BOOK

VI.

DIALOGUES.

CHA P. I.

ON HAPPINESS.

T was at a time, when a certain friend, whom I highly

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value, was my gueft. We had been fitting together,entertaining ourselves with Shakespear. Among many of his characters, we had looked into that of Wolfey. How foon, fays my friend, does the Cardinal in difgrace abjure that happiness, which he was lately fo fond of? Scarcely out of office, but he begins to exclaim,

Vain pomp and glory of the world! I hate ye. So true is it, that our fentiments ever vary with the season ; and that in adverfity we are of one mind, in profperity, of another. As for his mean opinion, faid I, of human happiness, it is a truth, which fmall reflection might have taught him long before. There feems little need of diftrefs to inform us of this. I rather commend the feeming wifdom of that eaftern monarch, who in the affluence of profperity, when he was proving every pleasure, was yet fo fenfible of their empti

nefs,

nefs, their infufficiency to make him happy, that he proclaimed a reward to the man, who fhould invent a new delight. The reward indeed was proclaimed, but the delight was not to be found. If by delight, faid he, you mean fome good; fomething conducing to real happiness; it might have been found perhaps, and yet not hit the monarch's fancy. Is that, faid I, poffible? It is poffible, replied he, though it had been the fovereign good itfelf. And indeed what wonder? Is it probable that fuch a mortal as an eaftern monarch; fuch a pampered, flattered, idle mortal, should have attention, or capacity for a fubje& fo delicate? A fubject, enough to exercise the fubtleft and most acute?

WHAT then is it you efteem, faid I, the fovereign good to be? It should feem, by your reprefentation, to be fomething very uncommon. Afk me not the question, faid he, you know not where it will carry us. Its general idea indeed is eafy and plain; but the detail of particulars is perplexed and long; paffions and opinions for ever thwart us ; a paradox appears in almoft every advance. Befides, did our inquiries fucceed ever fo happily, the very subject itself is always enough to give me pain. That, replied I, feems a paradox indeed. It is not, faid he, from any prejudice, which I have conceived again ft it; for to man I esteem it the nobleft in the world. Nor is it for being a fubject, to which my genius does not lead me; for no fubject at all times has more employed my attention. But the truth is, I can scarce ever think of it, but an unlucky story still occurs to my mind. A certain ftar-gazer, with his telescope was "once viewing the moon; and defcribing her feas, her moun❝tains, and her territories. Says a clown to his compani

on, Let him spy what he pleases; we are as near to the <moon, as he and all his brethren." So fares it, alas!

Book VI. with thefe our moral fpeculations. Practice too often creeps, where theory can foar. The philofopher proves as weak, as thofe whom he most contemns. A mortifying thought to fuch as well attend it. Too mortifying, replied I, to be long dwelt on. Give us rather your general idea of the fovereign good. This is easy from your own account, however intricate the detail.

THUS then, faid he, fince you are fo urgent, it is thus that I conceive it. The Sovereign Good is that, the poffeffion of which renders us happy. And how, faid I, do we poffefs it? Is it fenfual, or intellectual? There you are entering faid he, upon the detail. This is beyond your question. Not a small advance, faid I, to indulge poor curiofity? Will you raife me a thirst, and be so cruel not to allay it? It is not, replied he, of my raifing, but your own. Befides I am not certain, fhould I attempt to proceed, whether you will admit fuch authorities as it is poffible I may vouch. That, faid I, must be determined by their weight and character. Suppofe, faid he, it should be mankind; the whole human race. Would you not think it fomething strange, to feek of thofe concerning Good, who purfue it a thousand ways, and many of them contradictory ? I confefs, faid I, it seems fo. And yet continued he, were there a point, in which such diffentients ever agreed, this agreement would be no mean argument in favour of its truth and juftnefs. But where, replied I, is this agreement to be found.

He answered me by afking, what if it should appear, that there were certain original characteristics and preconceptions of good, which were natural, uniform and common to all men; which all recognized in their various pursuits ; and that the difference lay only in the applying them to particulars?

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ticulars? This requires, faid I, to be illuftrated. As if, continued he, a company of travellers, in fome wide foreft, were all intending for one city, but each by a rout peculiar to himself. The roads indeed would be various, and many perhaps false; but all who travelled, would have one end in view. It is evident, faid I, they would. So fares it then, added he, with mankind in the purfuit of good. The ways indeed are many, but what they feek is one.

FOR inftance: Did you ever hear of any, who in pursuit of their good were for living the life of a bird, an infect, or a fish. None. And why not? It would be inconfiftent, anfwered I, with their nature. You fee then, faid he, they all agree in this; that what they purfue, ought to be confiftent, and agreeable to their proper nature. So ought it, faid I, undoubtedly. If fo, continued he, one pre-conception is discovered, which is common to good in general: It is, that all good is fuppofed fomething agreeable to nature. This indeed, replied I, feems to be agreed on all hands.

BUT again, faid he, Is there a man scarcely to be found of a temper fo truly mortified, as to acquiefce in the lowek, and shortest neceffaries of life? Who aims not, if he be able, at something farther, fomething better? I replied, scarcely one. Do not multitudes pursue, said he, infinite objects of defire, acknowledged, every one of them, to be in no respect neceffaries? Exquifite viands, delicious wines, fplendid apparel, curious gardens; magnificent apartments adorned with pictures and fculptures; mufic and poetry, and the whole tribe of elegant arts? It is evident, faid 1. If it be, continued he, it should feem that they all confidered the chief or Sovereign Good, not to be that, which conduces to bare existence or mere being; for to this the neceffaries alone are adequate. I replied they were. But if not this, it must

be fomewhat conducive to that, which is superior to mere being. It must. And what, continued he, can this be, but well-being, under the various fhapes, in which differing opinions paint it? Or can you fuggeft any thing else? I replied, I could not. Mark here, then, continued he, another pre-conception, in which they all agree; the Sovereign Good is fomewhat conducive, not to mere being, but to well-being. I replied, it had fo appeared.

AGAIN, continued he. What labour, what expence, to procure thofe rarities, which our own poor country is unable to afford us! How is the world ranfacked to its utmost verges, and luxury and arts imported from every quarter! Nay more: How do we baffle nature herfelf; invert her order; seek the vegetables of spring in the rigours of winter, and winter's ice during the heats of fummer! I replied, we did. And what disappointment, what remorfe, when endeavours fail? It is true. If this then be evident, faid he, it would feem, that whatever we defire as our Chief and Sovereign Good, is fomething which, as far as possible, we would accommodate to all places and times. I answered, So it appeared. See then, faid he, another of its characte ristics, another pre-conception.

BUT farther ftill; What contefts for wealth! What fcrambling for property! What perils in the pursuit! What folicitude in the maintenance! And why all this? To what purpose, what end? Or is not the reafon plain? Is it not that wealth may continually procure us, whatever we fancy good; and make that perpetual, which would otherwife be tranfient? I replied, it seemed fo. Is it not farther defired, as fupplying us from ourfelves; when without it, we must be beholden to the benevolence of others, and

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depend