no natural Affection towards an Offspring? Why do you, Epicurus, dissuade a wise Man from bringing up Children? Why are you afraid, that, upon their account, he may fall into Uneasinesses? Doth he fall into any for a Mouse, that feeds within his House? What is it to him, if a little Mouse bewails itself there? But Epicurus knew, that, if once a Child is born, it is no longer in our Power not to love and be solicitous for it. For the same reason, he says, a wise Man will not engage himself in public Business for he knew very well, what such an engagement would oblige him to do: for what should restrain any one from affairs, if we may behave among Men, as we would among a Swarm of Flies? §. 2. And doth He, who knows all this, dare to bid us not bring up Children? Not even a Sheep, or a Wolf, deserts its Offspring; and shall Man? What would you have? That we should be as silly as Sheep? Yet even these do not desert their Offspring. Or as savage as Wolves? Neither do these desert them. Pray, who would mind you, if he saw his Child fallen upon the ground, and crying? For my part, I am of opinion, that your Father and Mother, even if they could could have foreseen, that you would have been the Author of such Doctrines, would not, however, have thrown you away. * DIFFICULTIES are things that shew what Men are. For the future, on any Difficulty, remember, That God, like a Master of Exercise, has engaged you with a rough Antagonist For what End? That you may be a Conqueror, like one in the Olympic Games: and it cannot be without Toil. No Man, in my opinion, has a more advantageous Difficulty on his hands than you have; provided you will but use it, as an athletic Champion doth his * The Greek Word signifies, a Person who used to anoint the Body of the Combatants and prepare them, by proper Exercises, for the Olympic Games. Antagonist. Antagonist. We are now sending * a Spy to Rome: but no one ever sends a timorous Spy, who, when he only hears a Noise, or sees a Shadow, runs back, frighted out of his wits, and says; "The Enemy is just at hand." So now, So now, if you should come and tell us ; Things are in a fearful way at Rome: Death is terrible; Banishment, terrible; Calumny, terrible; Poverty, terrible : run, good People, the Enemy is at hand:" we will answer; Get you gone, and prophesy for yourself; our only Fault is, that we have sent such a Spy. Diogenes t was sent a Spy before you: but he told us other Tidings. He says, That Death is no Evil; for it is nothing base: that Defama *Probably, according to Mr. Upton's Conjecture, y should be σE. We send you. Wolfius imagines this Passage to allude to the Commotions after the Death of Nero: when there were many Competitors for the Empire; and every one was eager to take the Part of him who appeared to have the greatest Probability of Suc cess. + Diogenes, passing through the Camp of Philip, at the Time that he was on his March against the Greeks, was taken, and brought before the King; who, not knowing him, asked, if he was a Spy. Yes, certainly, Philip (answered the Philosopher), I am a Spy of your Inconsiderateness, and Folly, in risking your Kingdom and Person, without any Necessity, upon the Hazard of a single Hour. UPTON. The story is thus told by Plutarch; but is related something differently by other Authors. tion is only the noise of Madmen. And what account did this Spy give us of Pain? Of Pleasure? Of Poverty? He says, that, to be naked is better than a Purple Robe : to sleep upon the bare Ground the softest Bed: and gives a Proof of all he says, by his own Courage, Tranquillity, and Freedom; and, moreover, by a healthy and robust Body. There is no Enemy near, says he. All is profound Peace.-How so, Diogenes? Look upon me, says he. Am I hurt? Am I wounded? Have I run away from any one? This is such a Spy as he ought to be. But you come, and tell us one thing after another. Go back again, and examine things more exactly, and without Fear. §. 2. What shall I do, then? What do you do when you come out of a Ship? Do you take away the Rudder, or the Oars, along with you? What do you take, then? Your own, your Bottle, and your Bundle. So, in the present Case, if you will but remember what is your own, you will not claim what belongs to others Are you bid to put off your Consular Robe ?-Well: I am in my Equestrian. Put off that too.I have only my Coat.-Put off that too.— Well I am naked.-Still you raise my Envy. Then e'en take my whole Body. If I can throw off a paltry Body, am I any longer afraid of a Tyrant *? you §. 3. But such a one will not leave me his Heir. What, then, have I forgot, that none of these things is mine? How, then, do we call them mine? As a Bed, in an Inn. If the Landlord when he dies, leaves you the Beds; well and good: but, if to another, they will be his; and you will seek one elsewhere: and, consequently, if do not find one, you will sleep upon the Ground only sleep quiet, and snore soundly; and remember, that Tragedies have no other subjects, but the Rich, and Kings, and Tyrants. No poor Man fills any other place in one, than as part of the Chorus: whereas Kings begin, indeed, with Prosperity. "Crown the Palace with festive Garlands +."-But, then, about the third or fourth Act; Alas, Citheron! Why didst thou receive me!" Where are thy Crowns, Wretch; where is thy Diadem? Cannot thy Guards help thee? 66 Whenever you approach any of these then, remember, that you meet a Tragic The Translation follows Mr. Upton's Reading. Player; |