Chapter 16
(4) The doctrine touching the platform or nature of good considereth it either simple or compared; either the kinds of good, or the degrees of good; in the latter whereof those infinite disputatious which were touching the supreme degree thereof, which they term felicity, beatitude, or the highest good, the doctrines concerning which were as the heathen divinity, are by the Christian faith discharged. And as Aristotle saith, “That young men may be happy, but not otherwise but by hope;” so we must all acknowledge our minority, and embrace the felicity which is by hope of the future world.
(5) Freed therefore and delivered from this doctrine of the philosopher’s heaven, whereby they feigned a higher elevation of man’s nature than was (for we see in what height of style Seneca writeth, _Vere magnum_, _habere fragilitatem hominis_, _securitatem Dei_), we may with more sobriety and truth receive the rest of their inquiries and labours. Wherein for the nature of good positive or simple, they have set it down excellently in describing the forms of virtue and duty, with their situations and postures; in distributing them into their kinds, parts, provinces, actions, and administrations, and the like: nay further, they have commended them to man’s nature and spirit with great quickness of argument and beauty of persuasions; yea, and fortified and entrenched them (as much as discourse can do) against corrupt and popular opinions. Again, for the degrees and comparative nature of good, they have also excellently handled it in their triplicity of good, in the comparisons between a contemplative and an active life, in the distinction between virtue with reluctation and virtue secured, in their encounters between honesty and profit, in their balancing of virtue with virtue, and the like; so as this part deserveth to be reported for excellently laboured.
(6) Notwithstanding, if before they had come to the popular and received notions of virtue and vice, pleasure and pain, and the rest, they had stayed a little longer upon the inquiry concerning the roots of good and evil, and the strings of those roots, they had given, in my opinion, a great light to that which followed; and specially if they had consulted with nature, they had made their doctrines less prolix and more profound: which being by them in part omitted and in part handled with much confusion, we will endeavour to resume and open in a more clear manner.
(7) There is formed in everything a double nature of good—the one, as everything is a total or substantive in itself; the other, as it is a part or member of a greater body; whereof the latter is in degree the greater and the worthier, because it tendeth to the conservation of a more general form. Therefore we see the iron in particular sympathy moveth to the loadstone; but yet if it exceed a certain quantity, it forsaketh the affection to the loadstone, and like a good patriot moveth to the earth, which is the region and country of massy bodies; so may we go forward, and see that water and massy bodies move to the centre of the earth; but rather than to suffer a divulsion in the continuance of nature, they will move upwards from the centre of the earth, forsaking their duty to the earth in regard of their duty to the world. This double nature of good, and the comparative thereof, is much more engraven upon man, if he degenerate not, unto whom the conservation of duty to the public ought to be much more precious than the conservation of life and being; according to that memorable speech of Pompeius Magnus, when being in commission of purveyance for a famine at Rome, and being dissuaded with great vehemency and instance by his friends about him, that he should not hazard himself to sea in an extremity of weather, he said only to them, _Necesse est ut eam_, _non ut vivam_. But it may be truly affirmed that there was never any philosophy, religion, or other discipline, which did so plainly and highly exalt the good which is communicative, and depress the good which is private and particular, as the Holy Faith; well declaring that it was the same God that gave the Christian law to men, who gave those laws of nature to inanimate creatures that we spake of before; for we read that the elected saints of God have wished themselves anathematised and razed out of the book of life, in an ecstasy of charity and infinite feeling of communion.
(8) This being set down and strongly planted, doth judge and determine most of the controversies wherein moral philosophy is conversant. For first, it decideth the question touching the preferment of the contemplative or active life, and decideth it against Aristotle. For all the reasons which he bringeth for the contemplative are private, and respecting the pleasure and dignity of a man’s self (in which respects no question the contemplative life hath the pre-eminence), not much unlike to that comparison which Pythagoras made for the gracing and magnifying of philosophy and contemplation, who being asked what he was, answered, “That if Hiero were ever at the Olympian games, he knew the manner, that some came to try their fortune for the prizes, and some came as merchants to utter their commodities, and some came to make good cheer and meet their friends, and some came to look on; and that he was one of them that came to look on.” But men must know, that in this theatre of man’s life it is reserved only for God and angels to be lookers on. Neither could the like question ever have been received in the Church, notwithstanding their _Pretiosa in oculis Domini mors sanctorum ejus_, by which place they would exalt their civil death and regular professions, but upon this defence, that the monastical life is not simple contemplative, but performeth the duty either of incessant prayers and supplications, which hath been truly esteemed as an office in the Church, or else of writing or taking instructions for writing concerning the law of God, as Moses did when he abode so long in the mount. And so we see Enoch, the seventh from Adam, who was the first contemplative and walked with God, yet did also endow the Church with prophecy, which Saint Jude citeth. But for contemplation which should be finished in itself, without casting beams upon society, assuredly divinity knoweth it not.
(9) It decideth also the controversies between Zeno and Socrates, and their schools and successions, on the one side, who placed felicity in virtue simply or attended, the actions and exercises whereof do chiefly embrace and concern society; and on the other side, the Cyrenaics and Epicureans, who placed it in pleasure, and made virtue (as it is used in some comedies of errors, wherein the mistress and the maid change habits) to be but as a servant, without which pleasure cannot be served and attended; and the reformed school of the Epicureans, which placed it in serenity of mind and freedom from perturbation; as if they would have deposed Jupiter again, and restored Saturn and the first age, when there was no summer nor winter, spring nor autumn, but all after one air and season; and Herillus, which placed felicity in extinguishment of the disputes of the mind, making no fixed nature of good and evil, esteeming things according to the clearness of the desires, or the reluctation; which opinion was revived in the heresy of the Anabaptists, measuring things according to the motions of the spirit, and the constancy or wavering of belief; all which are manifest to tend to private repose and contentment, and not to point of society.
(10) It censureth also the philosophy of Epictetus, which presupposeth that felicity must be placed in those things which are in our power, lest we be liable to fortune and disturbance; as if it were not a thing much more happy to fail in good and virtuous ends for the public, than to obtain all that we can wish to ourselves in our proper fortune: as Consalvo said to his soldiers, showing them Naples, and protesting he had rather die one foot forwards, than to have his life secured for long by one foot of retreat. Whereunto the wisdom of that heavenly leader hath signed, who hath affirmed that “a good conscience is a continual feast;” showing plainly that the conscience of good intentions, howsoever succeeding, is a more continual joy to nature than all the provision which can be made for security and repose.
(11) It censureth likewise that abuse of philosophy which grew general about the time of Epictetus, in converting it into an occupation or profession; as if the purpose had been, not to resist and extinguish perturbations, but to fly and avoid the causes of them, and to shape a particular kind and course of life to that end; introducing such a health of mind, as was that health of body of which Aristotle speaketh of Herodicus, who did nothing all his life long but intend his health; whereas if men refer themselves to duties of society, as that health of body is best which is ablest to endure all alterations and extremities, so likewise that health of mind is most proper which can go through the greatest temptations and perturbations. So as Diogenes’ opinion is to be accepted, who commended not them which abstained, but them which sustained, and could refrain their mind _in præcipitio_, and could give unto the mind (as is used in horsemanship) the shortest stop or turn.
(12) Lastly, it censureth the tenderness and want of application in some of the most ancient and reverend philosophers and philosophical men, that did retire too easily from civil business, for avoiding of indignities and perturbations; whereas the resolution of men truly moral ought to be such as the same Consalvo said the honour of a soldier should be, _e telâ crassiore_, and not so fine as that everything should catch in it and endanger it.
XXI. (1) To resume private or particular good, it falleth into the division of good active and passive; for this difference of good (not unlike to that which amongst the Romans was expressed in the familiar or household terms of _promus_ and _condus_) is formed also in all things, and is best disclosed in the two several appetites in creatures; the one to preserve or continue themselves, and the other to dilate or multiply themselves, whereof the latter seemeth to be the worthier; for in nature the heavens, which are the more worthy, are the agent, and the earth, which is the less worthy, is the patient. In the pleasures of living creatures, that of generation is greater than that of food. In divine doctrine, _beatius est dare quam accipere_. And in life, there is no man’s spirit so soft, but esteemeth the effecting of somewhat that he hath fixed in his desire, more than sensuality, which priority of the active good is much upheld by the consideration of our estate to be mortal and exposed to fortune. For if we might have a perpetuity and certainty in our pleasures, the state of them would advance their price. But when we see it is but _magni æstimamus mori tardius_, and _ne glorieris de crastino_, _nescis partum diei_, it maketh us to desire to have somewhat secured and exempted from time, which are only our deeds and works; as it is said, _Opera eorum sequuntur eos_. The pre-eminence likewise of this active good is upheld by the affection which is natural in man towards variety and proceeding, which in the pleasures of the sense, which is the principal part of passive good, can have no great latitude. _Cogita quamdiu eadem feceris_; _cibus_, _somnus_, _ludus per hunc circulum curritur_; _mori velle non tantum fortis_, _aut miser_, _aut prudens_, _sed etiam fastidiosus potest_. But in enterprises, pursuits, and purposes of life, there is much variety; whereof men are sensible with pleasure in their inceptions, progressions, recoils, reintegrations, approaches and attainings to their ends. So as it was well said, _Vita sine proposito languida et vaga est_. Neither hath this active good an identity with the good of society, though in some cases it hath an incidence into it. For although it do many times bring forth acts of beneficence, yet it is with a respect private to a man’s own power, glory, amplification, continuance; as appeareth plainly, when it findeth a contrary subject. For that gigantine state of mind which possesseth the troublers of the world, such as was Lucius Sylla and infinite other in smaller model, who would have all men happy or unhappy as they were their friends or enemies, and would give form to the world, according to their own humours (which is the true theomachy), pretendeth and aspireth to active good, though it recedeth furthest from good of society, which we have determined to be the greater.
(2) To resume passive good, it receiveth a subdivision of conservative and effective. For let us take a brief review of that which we have said: we have spoken first of the good of society, the intention whereof embraceth the form of human nature, whereof we are members and portions, and not our own proper and individual form; we have spoken of active good, and supposed it as a part of private and particular good. And rightly, for there is impressed upon all things a triple desire or appetite proceeding from love to themselves: one of preserving and continuing their form; another of advancing and perfecting their form; and a third of multiplying and extending their form upon other things: whereof the multiplying, or signature of it upon other things, is that which we handled by the name of active good. So as there remaineth the conserving of it, and perfecting or raising of it, which latter is the highest degree of passive good. For to preserve in state is the less, to preserve with advancement is the greater. So in man,
“Igneus est ollis vigor, et cælestis origo.”
His approach or assumption to divine or angelical nature is the perfection of his form; the error or false imitation of which good is that which is the tempest of human life; while man, upon the instinct of an advancement, formal and essential, is carried to seek an advancement local. For as those which are sick, and find no remedy, do tumble up and down and change place, as if by a remove local they could obtain a remove internal, so is it with men in ambition, when failing of the mean to exalt their nature, they are in a perpetual estuation to exalt their place. So then passive good is, as was said, either conservative or perfective.
(3) To resume the good of conservation or comfort, which consisteth in the fruition of that which is agreeable to our natures; it seemeth to be most pure and natural of pleasures, but yet the softest and lowest. And this also receiveth a difference, which hath neither been well judged of, nor well inquired; for the good of fruition or contentment is placed either in the sincereness of the fruition, or in the quickness and vigour of it; the one superinduced by equality, the other by vicissitude; the one having less mixture of evil, the other more impression of good. Whether of these is the greater good is a question controverted; but whether man’s nature may not be capable of both is a question not inquired.
(4) The former question being debated between Socrates and a sophist, Socrates placing felicity in an equal and constant peace of mind, and the sophist in much desiring and much enjoying, they fell from argument to ill words: the sophist saying that Socrates’ felicity was the felicity of a block or stone; and Socrates saying that the sophist’s felicity was the felicity of one that had the itch, who did nothing but itch and scratch. And both these opinions do not want their supports. For the opinion of Socrates is much upheld by the general consent even of the epicures themselves, that virtue beareth a great part in felicity; and if so, certain it is, that virtue hath more use in clearing perturbations then in compassing desires. The sophist’s opinion is much favoured by the assertion we last spake of, that good of advancement is greater than good of simple preservation; because every obtaining a desire hath a show of advancement, as motion though in a circle hath a show of progression.
(5) But the second question, decided the true way, maketh the former superfluous. For can it be doubted, but that there are some who take more pleasure in enjoying pleasures than some other, and yet, nevertheless, are less troubled with the loss or leaving of them? So as this same, _Non uti ut non appetas_, _non appetere ut non metuas_, _sunt animi pusilli et diffidentis_. And it seemeth to me that most of the doctrines of the philosophers are more fearful and cautious than the nature of things requireth. So have they increased the fear of death in offering to cure it. For when they would have a man’s whole life to be but a discipline or preparation to die, they must needs make men think that it is a terrible enemy, against whom there is no end of preparing. Better saith the poet:—
“Qui finem vitæ extremum inter munera ponat Naturæ.”
So have they sought to make men’s minds too uniform and harmonical, by not breaking them sufficiently to contrary motions; the reasons whereof I suppose to be, because they themselves were men dedicated to a private, free, and unapplied course of life. For as we see, upon the lute or like instrument, a ground, though it be sweet and have show of many changes, yet breaketh not the hand to such strange and hard stops and passages, as a set song or voluntary; much after the same manner was the diversity between a philosophical and civil life. And, therefore, men are to imitate the wisdom of jewellers: who, if there be a grain, or a cloud, or an ice which may be ground forth without taking too much of the stone, they help it; but if it should lessen and abate the stone too much, they will not meddle with it: so ought men so to procure serenity as they destroy not magnanimity.
(6) Having therefore deduced the good of man which is private and particular, as far as seemeth fit, we will now return to that good of man which respecteth and beholdeth society, which we may term duty; because the term of duty is more proper to a mind well framed and disposed towards others, as the term of virtue is applied to a mind well formed and composed in itself; though neither can a man understand virtue without some relation to society, nor duty without an inward disposition. This part may seem at first to pertain to science civil and politic; but not if it be well observed. For it concerneth the regiment and government of every man over himself, and not over others. And as in architecture the direction of framing the posts, beams, and other parts of building, is not the same with the manner of joining them and erecting the building; and in mechanicals, the direction how to frame an instrument or engine is not the same with the manner of setting it on work and employing it; and yet, nevertheless, in expressing of the one you incidently express the aptness towards the other; so the doctrine of conjugation of men in society differeth from that of their conformity thereunto.
(7) This part of duty is subdivided into two parts: the common duty of every man, as a man or member of a state; the other, the respective or special duty of every man in his profession, vocation, and place. The first of these is extant and well laboured, as hath been said. The second likewise I may report rather dispersed than deficient; which manner of dispersed writing in this kind of argument I acknowledge to be best. For who can take upon him to write of the proper duty, virtue, challenge, and right of every several vocation, profession, and place? For although sometimes a looker on may see more than a gamester, and there be a proverb more arrogant than sound, “That the vale best discovereth the hill;” yet there is small doubt but that men can write best and most really and materially in their own professions; and that the writing of speculative men of active matter for the most part doth seem to men of experience, as Phormio’s argument of the wars seemed to Hannibal, to be but dreams and dotage. Only there is one vice which accompanieth them that write in their own professions, that they magnify them in excess. But generally it were to be wished (as that which would make learning indeed solid and fruitful) that active men would or could become writers.
(8) In which kind I cannot but mention, _honoris causa_, your Majesty’s excellent book touching the duty of a king; a work richly compounded of divinity, morality, and policy, with great aspersion of all other arts; and being in some opinion one of the most sound and healthful writings that I have read: not distempered in the heat of invention, nor in the coldness of negligence; not sick of dizziness, as those are who leese themselves in their order, nor of convulsions, as those which cramp in matters impertinent; not savouring of perfumes and paintings, as those do who seek to please the reader more than nature beareth; and chiefly well disposed in the spirits thereof, being agreeable to truth and apt for action; and far removed from that natural infirmity, whereunto I noted those that write in their own professions to be subject—which is, that they exalt it above measure. For your Majesty hath truly described, not a king of Assyria or Persia in their extern glory, but a Moses or a David, pastors of their people. Neither can I ever leese out of my remembrance what I heard your Majesty in the same sacred spirit of government deliver in a great cause of judicature, which was, “That kings ruled by their laws, as God did by the laws of nature; and ought as rarely to put in use their supreme prerogative as God doth His power of working miracles.” And yet notwithstanding in your book of a free monarchy, you do well give men to understand, that you know the plenitude of the power and right of a king, as well as the circle of his office and duty. Thus have I presumed to allege this excellent writing of your Majesty, as a prime or eminent example of tractates concerning special and respective duties; wherein I should have said as much, if it had been written a thousand years since. Neither am I moved with certain courtly decencies, which esteem it flattery to praise in presence. No, it is flattery to praise in absence—that is, when either the virtue is absent, or the occasion is absent; and so the praise is not natural, but forced, either in truth or in time. But let Cicero be read in his oration _pro Marcello_, which is nothing but an excellent table of Cæsar’s virtue, and made to his face; besides the example of many other excellent persons, wiser a great deal than such observers; and we will never doubt, upon a full occasion, to give just praises to present or absent.