To keep by policy what Henry got? Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham, A was! How France and Frenci men might be kept in awe? Anu shail these labours and these honours die? SHAKESPEARE. BOOK VI. DIALOGUES. CHAP. I. ON HAPPINESS. IT was at a time, when a certain Friend, whom I highly value, was my guest. We had been sitting together, entertaining ourselves with Shakspeare. Among many of his characters, we halbooked into that of Wolsey. How soon, savs my friend, does the cardinal in disgrace abjure tile happiness, which he was lately so 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 sentiments ever vary with the season; and that in adversity we are of one mind, in prosperity of another. As for his mean opinion, said 1, of human happiness it is a truth which small reflection might have taught him long before There seems little need of distress to inform us of this. I rather commend the seeming wisdom of that eastern monarch, who in the affluence of prosperity, when he was proving every pleasure, was yet so sensible of their emptiness, their insufficiency to make him happy, that he proclaimed a reward to the man who should invent a new delight. The reward indeed was proclaimed, but the delight was not to be found. If by delight, he said, you mean some good; some. thing conducing to real happiness; it might have been found, pernaps, and yet not hit the monarch's fancy. farcy. Is that. said. prssible? It is possible, replice he, though it had been the sovereign good it selt. And indeed what wonder? Is it probable that such a mortal as an Eastern monarch; such a pam. pered, flattered, idle mortal, should have attention or capacity for a subject so delicate? A subject erough to exercise the subtlest and most acure? Ask What then is it you esteem. said 1. the sovereign good to be? It should seem by your repre⚫ sentation, to be something very uncommon. me not the question, said he, you know not where it will carry us. Its ger eral idea indeed is easy and plain but the detail of particulars is perplexed and long passions and opinions for ever thwart us; a paradox a pears in almost every advance Be ides, did our inquiries succeed ever so happily, the very subject in elt is always enough to give me pain. Thar, teple I, se: ms a paradox indeed, It is not, said he, fr: many prejudice, which I have conceived against it: ter o man I esteem it the noblest in the world. Nor is it fi for being a subject to which my genius does not leas me; for no subject at all times ha more employee my attention. But the truth is, 66 1 can scarce ever thnk of it, but an unfortunate story occurs to my mind A certain star-azer, with his telescope was once viewing the moon ; "2nd describing her seas, her mountains, her terri❝tories Says a down to his con panion, Let him 68 spy what he pleases; we are as near to the moon as be and all his brethren." So fares it alas ! with these our moral speculations. Practice too often creeps, where theory can soar The philosopher proves as weak as those whom he most contemns. A mortifying thought to such as well attend to it. Toon.ortifying, replied I, to be long dwelt on Give us rather, you general idea or the sovereign good. This is east from your own' account, however intri cate the detail Thus then, said he, since you are so urgent, it is thus that I conceive it. The Sovereign Good is that that, the possession of which renders us happy. And how, said I, do we possess it? Is it sensual, or intellectual? There you are entering, said he, upca the detail. This is beyond your question. Not a small advance, said I, to indulge poor curiosity? Will you raise me a thirst, and be so cruel not to allay it? It is not, replied he, of my raising, but your own. Besides, I am not certain, should I attempt to proceed, whether you will admit such authorities as it is possible I may vouch. That, said I, must be determined by their weight and character. Suppose, said he, it should be mankind; the whole human race. Would you not think it something strange, to seek of those concerning Good, who pursue it a thousand ways, and many of them contradictory? I confess, said I, it seems so. And yet, continued he, were there a point, in which such dissentients ever agreed, this agreement would be no mean argument in favour of its truth and justness. But where, replied I, is this argument to be found? He answered me by asking, 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 recog nized in their various pursuits; and that the diffe rence lay only in the applying them to particulars? This requires, said I, to be illustrated. As if, continued he, a company of travellers, in some wide forest, 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, said I, they would. So fares it then, added he, with mankind in the pursuit of Good. The ways indeed are many, but what they seek is One. For instance; Did you ever hear of any, who in pursuit of their good were for living the life of a bird, an insect, or a fish? None. And why not? It would be inconsistent, answered I, with their nature, You see then, said he, they all agree in this; that what they pursue, ought to be consistent, and agreeable to R their their proper nature. So ought it, said I, undoubtedly. If so, continued he, one preconception is discovered, which is common to good in general: It is, that all good is supposed something agreeable to na. ture. This indeed, replied 1, seems to be agreed on all hands. But again, said he, Is there a man scarcely to be found of a temper so truly mortified, as to acquiesce in the lowest and shortest necessaries of life? Who aims not, if he be able, at something farther, something better? I replied scarcely one. Do not mul nudes pursue, said he, infinite objects of desire, acknowledged every one of them, to be in no respect necessary? Exquisite viands, delicious wines, splendid apparel, curious gardens, magnificent apartments adorned with pictures and sculpture; music and poetry, and the whole tribe of elegant arts? It is evident, said I. If it be, continued he, it should seem that they will consider the chief or Sovereign Good, not to be that which conduces to bare existence or mere being; for to this the necessaries alone are adequate. I replied they were. But if not this, it must be somewhat conducive to that, which is su perior to mere being. It must, and what, continued he, can this be, but well being, under various shapes, in which different opinions paint it? or can you sug gest any thing else? I replied, I could not. Mark here, then, continued Le, another pre-conception, in which they all agree; the Sovereign Good is somev bat conducive, not to mere being, but to well being. I replied, it had so appeared. Again, continued he. What labour, what expense, to procure those rarities, which our own poor country is unable to afford us! How is the world ransacked to its utmost verges, and luxury and arts imported from every quarter! Nay, more: How do we baffle nature herself; invert her order; seek the vegetables of spring in the rigours of winter, and winter's ice, during the heats of summer? I replied, we did. And what disappointment, what remorse, when |