without casting back reflections upon himself; and whenever such reflection does occur, I believe it is most commonly an after thought, not so often the cause of mirth, as the consequence: vanity running on to a comparison of our own supposed perfections, which must rather abate the emotion than increase it, by finding other employ for the spirits: and we find, in fact, that it does make such abatement; every one sees the difference between a hearty laugh of real joy, and a scornful sneer, or a grin, expressing a claim to superiority; the laugh of contempt is a forced laugh, showing signs of gladness in the countenance, but not making the heart merry, and encouraged not so much to please ourselves, as to vex another.

Contempt being so apt to show itself in derision, hence the making a thing appear despicable and silly, has been called rendering it ridiculous. But ridiculous, although derived from the Latin word standing for laughter, does not always imply a quality of exciting even that affected laugh which is the expression of contempt: you shall see men with a very grave countenance go about to demonstrate the ridiculousness of a thing without ever raising mirth in themselves, or expecting to raise it in others: therefore ridiculous is not synonymous with comical or diverting, but rather coincides with absurd or foolish, and tends more to provoke your spleen than your laughter.

17. Upon this view of the nature and essence of wit and ridicule, it seems surprising to hear them recommended as methods proper for the discovery of truth, and offered as the surest test and touchstone to try the soundness of an opinion: for they tend to alarm the passions, they fill the mind with one single idea, barring her attention against all others, and produce their effects by their manner of placing objects, one setting them in a diverting, and the other in an offensive light. Whereas reason requires a calm and dispassionate situation of mind to form her judgments. aright; she wants the whole attention to look round upon every circumstance, and places her objects in all the lights wherein they are capable of standing. But the most surprising thing, is to find the greatest stress laid upon jest and derision by those who make the loudest pretences to freedom of thought: for liberty consists in a thorough exemption from all influence and constraint whatsoever, which may as well be thrown upon us by the allurements of wit and stings of ridicule, as by any other impulse: for they cast a prejudice upon the mind, that cramps and confines it within the narrow point of view they hold their objects in; and he that lies liable to be laughed out of his sentiments, is no more master of his thoughts, than if he were driven by the force of authority or example.

It has been alleged, in support of these methods of arguing, that disputants of all kind are observed to employ them, if they have talents that way, and fit opportunities offer for exerting them. But I desire it may be remembered, there are two sorts of argumentation, one by way of rhetoric, and the other by that of logic the former addresses the imagination, aims at working a persuasion there, and endeavors to interest the passions: the latter appeals directly to the understanding, proposes only conviction, rejects all kinds of artifice. Therefore, when we have fully satisfied ourselves of any matter upon a full and fair examination, and are only to persuade others who will not hear reason, being hindered by some prejudice or passion, it is allowable to use any contrivances likely to remove those obstacles: but when the business is to inquire into some doubtful point, and such are all to be esteemed during a debate with any sincere and judicious antagonist, none of the arts of persuasion ought to find admittance. I can allow jest and taunt to be useful engines of oratory, but can by no means think them proper instruments for reason to work with nor do we ever find them employed in the sciences, where understanding alone is concerned. Where is there purer, closer, or clearer reasoning than in the mathematics? but what room do they afford for merriment? Whoever demonstrated a problem in Euclid by ridicule ? or where will you find a joke in Sir Isaac Newton's Principia? The five mechanical powers, the properties of fluids, the courses of the planets, were not discovered nor explained by sallies of humor and raillery: and though the cycles and epicycles of the ancients are now become ridiculous by being grown out of fashion, they were first overthrown by serious argumentation from the phenomena of nature. Divination, astrology, magic, and the philosopher's stone, afford an ample field for humor and raillery; yet I believe no man who held them upon principle, was ever beat out of his notions by those weapons, without some solid argument convincing to his understanding.

18. Violence and turbulence constitute the essence of passion: the same emotions of soul, when too gentle to deserve that name, are styled Affections. It is not easy to ascertain the precise limits between passion and affection, the difference lying only in degree, nor indeed are they always accurately distinguished, either in discourse or writing; but, strictly speaking, passion is that which causes perturbation and disorder of spirits, throwing its own set of ideas forcibly upon the mind, and not leaving her master of her own motions; a situation very dangerous, as laying us open to every mischief, while the exercise of understanding, by which

alone we might help ourselves, remains suspended. Therefore, passion may be styled the fever of the mind, which disturbs and weakens, and cannot continue long, or return often, without pernicious consequences: but affection, like the steady beating of the pulse, actuates and invigorates, and keeps the mind continually alive. For we are every moment, while awake, pursuing or avoiding something or other; and indeed it is necessary we should be so, for were it possible to remain totally unaffected and unconcerned with anything, there would be no business for volition to do, but we must lie like logs, to receive whatever chance should throw upon us. It is our affections that lay the foundation of prudence, by prompting us to look forward to the future, that multiply our enjoyments beyond those of sensation or appetite, and find work for understanding by suggesting objects to contrive and provide for. Nor are any of them unserviceable, if properly directed, and kept within due moderation: cheerfulness preserves health, and renders the common scenes of life pleasurable: hope was esteemed of old, as we learn from the fable of Pandora's box, a salve to assuage the smart of all evils, and supplies the place of enjoyments when we have none actually in our power: caution helps to preserve the good things we have, and secure us against dangers: sensibility of the difference between good and bad usage urges us to apply the proper means for preventing injuries: decency keeps the world in order, nor could society or good manners subsist without it: reflection on cross accidents teaches us to provide against the like for the future: good nature and obligingness double our pleasures by making those of other people our own, and are the channels through which the benefits of society are chiefly conveyed: dislike to things or persons obnoxious secures us against catching contagion, or receiving mischief from them: desire, if not boisterous, furnishes us with constant employment, and gives a glee to everything we undertake and want, not rising to impatience, spurs us up to industry and vigilance, and holds us steady in pursuit of useful aims not presently attainable.

19. I said at the end of the last chapter, that the passions were only a stronger sort of habits acquired early in our childhood: from whence of course it follows, that habits must be feebler passions learned later, when the organs being grown tough, become less susceptible of new forms, but having once taken them, are less easy to be thrown out of them again. The force of passion seems to proceed from the wideness of the channels, and that vigorous pulsation wherewith they drive on the spirits contained in them that of habit from the stiffness of their coats, which will not

readily close, so as to turn the spirits from their accustomed track. Therefore passion does its work by vehemence and impetuosity, bearing down all opposition; it can only be mastered by a strong resolution, and that not without difficulty; but if you can stop the torrent it leaves you quiet. But habit prevails by perseverance and importunity; it does not bear you down by force, but steals upon you imperceptibly, or teazes and tires you into a compliance; it is easily restrained at any time with a little attention, but the moment you take off your eye it recoils again, and when grown inveterate, is extremely difficult to be totally eradicated. Our little motives are mostly introduced and the manner of our proceeding shaped by habit: it is that gives us dexterity and readiness in everything we do, and renders our thoughts and motions easy. We see how awkward and troublesome it is to consort with company, or pursue a method of conduct, or perform any work very different from what we have been used to. The tenor of our lives, and success of our endeavors, depends more upon habit than judgment: for what avails the knowing what is proper to be done, without an expertness and readiness to compass it? wherefore we cannot employ our understanding better than by enuring ourselves to such ways and practices as may prove beneficial, and carefully guarding against any others encroaching upon us for if understanding can gain over habit to her service, it will do her work more completely, and effectually, and pleasantly than she could herself. Passion grows feeble with age, but habit gathers strength old people can relinquish any fancy that comes into their heads, without much trouble, but none are harder to be put out of their ways; and in those few desires they have remaining, they show less of the eagerness of passion than the stubbornness of habit. But we take notice of their attachments to money, to command, and some other objects, and style them passions because they are few, and engross their whole attention for want of a competitor, not because of any violence, or impetuosity we discern in them. But as passion, affection, and habit, must have some matter to work upon, and the subjects giving rise to them, or recommended by them to our pursuit are infinitely various, it would be endless and perplexing to particularize them all: therefore I shall attempt to reduce them under a few general heads, and can think of none more proper than those four classes into which I had before proposed to distinguish our motives of action.

CHAP. XXII.

PLEASURE.

To Pleasure I might have joined Pain or Trouble, in the title of this chapter, but they being each of them respectively a species of satisfaction or uneasiness, may be treated of in the same manner, that is, both under the former. For as the one by repelling actuates us to almost the same motions as the other by attracting, what I shall observe concerning pleasure will serve equally for its reverse, unless where some particular occasion may require them to be considered distinctly.

Pleasure, like other satisfactions, when taken as a motive, must not be understood of the actual possession, but the prospect or idea of it: for motives do not prompt us to what we have already, which were needless, but to attain something we have not, or to preserve the continuance of something that would otherwise slip away from us. Yet as that idea rises from experience of the manner wherein things have affected us, we can only get acquainted with this species of motives by examining from what sources we derive our pleasures.

Nature gives us at first none other pleasures besides those of sensation and appetite, among which may be reckoned that soothing feel accompanying the free circulation of our blood and humors when in health and vigor, or the easy flow of spirits along the mental organs, when in contemplation or pursuit of anything engaging our attention and in these internal sensations perhaps may consist all the pleasures of imagination and reflection which we feel in seasons of joy, or hope, or desire, or other agreeable situations of mind. But however this be, certain it is that in process of time, when reflection has learnt its play, it supplies us with a considerable fund of entertainment: the pleasures of reading, of meditation, of conversation, of diversions, of advancement in knowledge, honor, or fortune, belong to the reflection rather than the senses, therefore are styled mental, as the others are bodily pleasures. And the former furnish much the greater share of our enjoyments in our riper years: for if any man will reflect on a day agreeably spent, he will find much less of it taken up in mere sensation than in some pursuit or variety of amusement that engaged his attention. Thus our pleasures, how much soever afterwards multiplied, take their rise from sensation alone, all others being derivative or translated from that original. To instance only in acquisitions of knowledge, which is common