Cleo. That only shows the turpitude of our inclinations. But men may say what they please: Every motion in a free agent, which he does not approve of, is either convulsive, or it is not his; I speak of those that are subject to the will. When two things are left to a person’s choice, it is a demonstration that he thinks that most eligible which he chooses, how contradictory, impertinent, or pernicious soever his reason for choosing it may be: Without this, there could be no voluntary suicide; and it would be injustice to punish men for their crimes.
Hor. I believe every body endeavours to be pleased; but it is inconceivable that creatures of the same species should differ so much from one another, as men do in their notions of pleasure; and that some of them should take delight in what is the greatest aversion to others: All aim at happiness; but the question is, Where is it to be found?
Cleo. It is with complete felicity in this world, as it is with the philosopher’s stone: Both have been sought after many different ways, by wise men as well as fools, though neither of them has been obtained hitherto: But in searching after either, diligent inquirers have often stumbled by chance on useful discoveries of things they did not look for, and which human sagacity, labouring with design à priori, never would have detected. Multitudes of our species may, in any habitable part of the globe, assist one another in a common defence, and be raised into a politic body, in which men shall live comfortably together for many centuries, without being acquainted with a thousand things, that if known, would every one of them be instrumental to render the happiness of the public more complete, according to the common notions men have of happiness. In one part of the world, we have found great and flourishing nations that knew nothing of ships; and in others, traffic by sea had been in use above two thousand years, and navigation had received innumerable improvements, before they knew how to sail by the help of the loadstone: It would be ridiculous to allege this piece of knowledge, either as a reason why man first chose to go to sea, or as an argument to prove his natural capacity for maritime affairs. To raise a garden, it is necessary that we should have a soil and a climate fit for that purpose. When we have these, we want nothing besides patience, but the seeds of vegetables and proper culture. Fine walks and canals, statues, summer-houses, fountains, and cascades, are great improvements on the delights of nature; but they are not essential to the existence of a garden. All nations must have had mean beginnings; and it is in those, the infancy of them, that the sociableness of man is as conspicuous as it can be ever after. Man is called a sociable creature chiefly for two reasons: First, because it is commonly imagined that he is naturally more fond and desirous of society, than any other creature. Secondly, because it is manifest, that associating in men turns to better account than it possibly could do in other animals, if they were to attempt it.
Hor. But why do you say of the first, that it is commonly imagined; is it not true then?
Cleo. I have a very good reason for this caution. All men born in society, are certainly more desirous of it than any other animal; but whether man be naturally so, that is a question: But, if he was, it is no excellency, nothing to brag of: The love man has for his ease and security, and his perpetual desire of meliorating his condition, must be sufficient motives to make him fond of society, concerning the necessitous and helpless condition of his nature.
Hor. Do not you fall into the same error, which, you say, Hobbes has been guilty of, when you talk of man’s necessitous and helpless condition?
Cleo. Not at all; I speak of men and women full grown; and the more extensive their knowledge is, the higher their quality, and the greater their possessions are, the more necessitous and helpless they are in their nature. A nobleman of twenty-five or thirty thousand pounds a-year, that has three or four coaches and six, and above fifty people to serve him, is in his person considered singly, abstract from what he possesses, more necessitous than an obscure man that has but fifty pounds a-year, and is used to walk a-foot; so a lady, who never stuck a pin in herself, and is dressed and undressed from head to foot like a jointed baby by her woman, and the assistance of another maid or two, is a more helpless creature than doll the diary-maid, who, all the winter long, dresses herself in the dark in less time than the other bestows in placing of her patches.
Hor. But is the desire of meliorating our condition which you named, so general, that no man is without it?
Cleo. Not one that can be called a sociable creature; and I believe this to be as much a characteristic of our species as any can be named: For there is not a man in the world, educated in society, who, if he could compass it by wishing, would not have something added to, taken from, or altered in his person, possessions, circumstances, or any part of the society he belongs to. This is what is not to be perceived in any creature but man; whose great industry in supplying what he calls his wants, could never have been known so well as it is, if it had not been for the unreasonableness, as well as multiplicity of his desires. From all which, it is manifest, that the most civilized people stand most in need of society, and consequently, none less than savages. The second reason for which I said man was called sociable, is, that associating together turned to better account in our species than it would do in any other, if they were to try it. To find out the reason of this, we must search into human nature for such qualifications as we excel all other animals in, and which the generality of men are endued with, taught or untaught: But in doing this, we should neglect nothing that is observable in them, from their most early youth to their extreme old age.
Hor. I cannot see why you use this precaution, of taking in the whole age of man; would it not be sufficient to mind those qualifications which he is possessed of, when he is come to the height of maturity, or his greatest perfection?