We are not made for sensual pleasures, but for them of the mind, or rational pleasures.
Ifa we consider our frame, we shall find that the end of man is not to seek after merely sensual pleasures; but, on the contrary, he is made to raise his mind above them, and to receive more<160> satisfaction from nobly despising them, than from enjoying them in the way of ordinary appetite. It is not only greater, but it is pleasanter because it is greater to contemn all pomp, pageantry, and sensuality, than to possess the means of them. Virtue, in its original signification, means strength of mind, or such firmness as is able to withstand all temptation, whether from the side of enchanting pleasure, or from terrifying pain, rather than contradict our natural sense of what is fit and becoming; and there is not only a pleasure arising from the conscience of such strength of mind upon reflexion which is ineffable, but there is a divine satisfaction in every act of such fortitude.
The virtuous pursuit alone can gratify our natural desire of power and dominion engrafted in us for that purpose.
Some of the ancients divided virtue thus defined into two principal parts or branches,a “Being able to deny ourselves any sensible pleasure, if reason or our moral sense forbid the indulgence: being able to withhold from the fairest promises of pleasure, till we have fully considered their pretensions, and what our moral conscience says of the fitness or unfitness of the pursuit. And being able, on the other hand, to endure with magnanimity any pain rather than counteract our sense of honour, esteem and true merit.” And man, instead of being made for voluptuousness, is made for those virtues, sustinence and abstinence. In exerting these he feels more sincere delight, than in wallowing in sensuality; because he is made to love power. We cannot have these virtues in perfection, but as all other perfections and habits<161> are acquired, but we are made to attain to them by exercise and application. Virtue is, and must be, in the nature of things, a progress. But tho’ it be a progress, a study, a struggle, a violent struggle, in like manner as getting to perfection in any science or art is; yet it is a pleasant exercise, a pleasant struggle in every step. Man is made for exercise, for making acquisitions by labour and industry. And therefore exercise is necessary to the welfare and pleasant feeling, so to speak, both of body and mind. And this is the exercise for which man is best fitted, and in which he feels the highest pleasure, even the vigorous efforts of his mind to improve his rational powers, to keep his sensitive appetites in due subjection to reason, or to obtain the mastership and command of them, and of himself. Virtue is therefore at the same time, that it is asserted to be man’s pleasantest employment, very justly represented by the ancients as a warfare, as a striving for victory, as contending after perfection, and mounting up towards it. It indeed chiefly consists in conquering our sensual concupiscences; and in submitting them to the rule and government of reason: but it does not follow from this, that virtue is not happiness. This brave warfare is at once our honour and our happiness; For thus alone can the natural greatness of the human mind, or its ardent desire of power, dominion and independency be satisfied. It is true, virtue is not so delightful in its first steps, as it becomes in proportion as it improves. We must distinguish here in the same manner as with regard to any science or art: as there the first elements are harsh and only afford pleasure to students, because they know they must ascend by degrees to perfection; and that the science, when once they have made any considerable advances in it, will well reward their labour and become easier, and that they are suitably employing<162> their time and talents: so is it likewise in the first steps of virtue, especially if one has bad habits and long indulged, impetuous, passions to grapple with and conquer. But virtue, like science or art, becomes more pleasant as one improves or proceeds in it. When one is become master of his passions, and virtuous inclinations are become, as it were, the bent of the soul, then all goes smoothly and equally on; and in the mean time the gradual advancement recompenses all the labour it requires, because the mind feels itself greaten, feels itself suitably employed, and feels its power and dominion increase. We have already mentioned some good effects of the greatness of our mind, with relation to knowledge; but herein chiefly does its usefulness consist, that it moves us to seek after true strength of mind; and no power, no dominion affords satisfaction to the mind of man equal to that power over ourselves and our appetites, to excite us to endeavour after which the desire of greatness was implanted in us. It is because the natural desire of power must be satisfied in some manner that other power is sought; and it is because this true power, the sweetest and pleasantest of all power, is not earnestly contended for, that the mind, if it is not employed in the pursuit of some false species of power, preys upon itself, frets and sours; and becomes at last quite languid and insensible, or quite cankered and insupportable. But the mind gradually greatning and expanding itself, as it advances in the dominion which virtue gives, is ever pleased and happy; for thus a natural and essential appetite of our nature is gratified, even the desire of power, (principatus,60 as Cicero calls it).a The extensive power <163> to which inward independence and self-command is absolutely requisite.
Some other considerations on the same subject, taken from ancient authors.
Let me subjoin to all this, in order to illustrate a point of the greatest importance in the philosophy of our nature, the three following considerations, all of which are likewise urged by ancient authors with a beauty and force of expression I am not able to approach.
Virtue saves and delivers from many evils, it brings no pains along with it; it is the only support under accidental calamities, and frequently brings good from them, and converts them into real benefits to ourselves and others. Its enjoyments never fade or become insipid, but on the contrary wax more pleasant and delightful by use and practice. And as true virtue knows no reward, but in the exercises and fruitions of more improved and exalted virtue, so it is pregnant with the most comfortable, joyous hopes.
I. Virtue saves from many terrible evils, the natural concomitants or followers of vice. Ignorance is full of doubts and fears, from which knowledge of nature, or of the real connexions of things, delivers: for he who encreaseth in knowledge, increaseth in strength; the wise man is strong; he is steady and immoveable, but the ignorant are weak and feeble, a reed shaken with every wind. And it is the calm undisturbed empire of reason over the appetites that saves from inward riot and tumult, and preserves the mind in that serene chearful state, without which it is impossible to relish any pleasure in the happiest circumstances of outward enjoyment: that chearful estate which is health to<164> the heart, and marrow to the bones. For nothing can please the man who is displeased with himself; and the vicious person cannot bear to see his own image. What vice is not either painful in the immediate exercise, or brings suffering after it, or is in both these respects a great evil and mischief, as well as base and unworthy: for abstracting from the ill consciousness which the vicious mind, ever self-condemned, cannot escape or fly from, does not envy torture the mind, emaciate the body, and render one contemptible, or rather hateful, as a common enemy, which he must necessarily be considered to be? Does not avarice cark and corrode with the vile double cares of hoarding and guarding, starve the body, and eat up the soul?a Does not intemperance and sensuality surfeit, sicken, and at last destroy the very sense of pleasure, and load the body with wearisome, fatiguing pains? Are not anger