IN the former conference SEBASTIAN having convinced PHILANDER of the great importance of religion, and the wisdom of making it as we11 the subject of social communication, as of retired meditations; accordingly, they two meet on purpose, this second time, to confer about it. But BIOPHILUS, a skeptical person, being in their company, at first diverts them from their design, by other discourse; until after a while, under the disguise of news, he is brought into this subject before he was aware: and then he puts them upon the proof of those principles, which they would have supposed. Upon this occasion, the foundations of religion are searched into, and particularly, that great point concerning a judgment to come: which being done, and BIOPHILUS thereby rendered somewhat more serious, they pursue their first intention, and discourse warmly and sensibly of another world, and of the necessary preparations for it.
PHILANDER. You see, SEBASTIAN, I am as good as my promise; and at this time so much better, as I have brought my neighbor BIOPHILUS along with me.
SEBASTIAN. I always took you for a man of your word, but now you have not only acquitted yourself, but obliged me.
BIOPHILUS. Your humble servant, good SEBASTIAN I know you are a studious person; yet I thought company would not be unacceptable to you at this season.
SEBAST. You are heartily welcome, Sir: I love my books well, but my friends better. Come, Gentlemen, will it please you to draw near the fire The weather is very sharp still.
PHIL. The cold continues; but, thanks be to GOD, the evenings are not so tedious since I saw you last.
BIOPH. How can that be, PHILANDER The weather, indeed, may change on a sudden, and become colder or warmer upon several accidents: but seeing the sun keeps his constant course, the interim of a few days can make no discernible difference in the length or shortness of the evenings.
PHIL. But here is a friend has taught me an art for that, a way to make time longer or shorter, at pleasure nay, (which perhaps will increase your wonder,) both these seeming contraries should be coincident. A man shall have more time to spend, and less to spare; more for his use and pleasure, and none to be a burthen to him.
BIOPH. Can art do that That is a noble skill indeed, (if it be possible,) to shorten a man's time, and yet prolong his life. Sure you speak riddles: however, I pray, make me a partaker of the mystery.
PHIL. There is no secret but this: Good company and profitable conversation, redeem time from folly and impertinency; and so we really live longer, and also spend the time pleasantly; and so our lives seem to be shorter.
BIOPH. That is pretty, I confess; but I had rather it had been literally true.
SEBAST. I believe BIOPHILUS remembers a proverbial saying they have in Italy to this purpose: 'He that would have a short Lent, let him borrow money to be repaid at Easter.' So he that forecasts the account which every man must one day make, how he has expended the time of this life, will not be apt to think the term of it to be over long. And he, on the other side, who improves his time as he ought, and has his accounts in readiness, will not think the day of reckoning too soon or sudden.
BIOPH. Very good again: but, nevertheless, with your pardon, gentlemen, I should argue quite the contrary from your premises. For, if there be a judgment to come, (as you are pleased to suppose,) and that a man must render an account of all his actions another day: This, methinks, should curdle all his delights; and the very thoughts of such a thing filling him with perpetual fears and solicitude about it, must needs make life very tedious to him. But if there be no such thing to be feared hereafter, then a man shall, in-effect, live a great while in a little time, when there is nothing to disturb his thoughts, to impeach his pleasures, or interrupt the enjoyment of himself.
PHIL. Yes, even in the case which you put, death will be sure to come shortly, and that will spoil his sport.
BIOPH. That is very true, and very sad. If therefore you would find out a remedy for that, you would do something to the purpose. But when you cannot but observe that there are several sorts of brute creatures that outlive mankind, continue longer in the world, and have as well a quicker sense of pleasure, as a more unlimited and uncontrollable enjoyment of it; if mankind, after all this, must be perpetually tormented too with suspicions of what may come after, they are doubly miserable, and under the hardest fate of all creatures.
SEBAST. That very thing which you now observe, is to me a very great argument of what you oppose. For upon those very considerations, viz., that the life of man in this world is shorter than that of other less considerable creatures, and that the pleasure thereof is interrupted also by the expectation of the future; upon those very grounds there is great reason to believe that there is another world, wherein he may have amends made him for whatever was amiss or defective here. For it is not credible with me, that such power and wisdom as are plainly displayed in the constitution of man, should be so utterly destitute of goodness, as to contrive things so ill, that the noblest being should be finally the most unfortunate.
To which I must add, that therefore the apprehension of a judgment to come, neither is, nor can be, mere matter of dread and horror, (as you seem to suppose,) but is either terrible or comfortable, respectively to men's preparations for it. I cannot wonder if the thoughts of it so fright and discompose evil men, that they could with all their hearts wish there was no such thing. But, most certainly, to wise and virtuous men, it is so far from being formidable, that contrariwise, the hope of it is the very joy of their hearts, the support of their spirits, their greatest security against all the cross accidents of this world, and, in a word, their port and sanctuary.
BIOPH. These are fine sayings, SEBASTIAN; but when it conies to the proof, I do not find men in love with dying; nor to have so comfortable an opinion of that other world you speak of, but that they could, with all their hearts, be content to quit their interest in the latter, so they might put off the former.
Indeed I have often observed men, when they have been past all hopes of life, to set a good face on the matter, and welcome the approach of death with seeming courage but in this juncture, let but a physician appear that gives them any hopes of recovery, they presently start back from the brink of another world, and smile upon the messenger that brings the good tidings of life. I cannot see, therefore, that men do indeed believe themselves in this matter.
SEBAST. There is no doubt, but some men may talk only, and set a good face upon that which they have no comfortable sense of: And no wonder if such men's courage fails them when they have most need of it. But this is no more reproach to true faith in God, than it is to generous courage, that now and then you shall see a huffing, swaggering hector, turn recreant when he is put to it in earnest. It is acknowledged to be very easy to vapor when no danger is near; but it requires real bravery to stand to it when a man is briskly encountered. Now, as you will not say there is no such thing as valor, because there are some cowards that pretend to it; so neither (I presume) will you think fit to suppose there is no faith, because there is some hypocrisy.
But, notwithstanding all, there are certainly, and have been, sundry persons in the world, who, though they have had the same natural affection to themselves, and to the present life, with others, yet have as heartily wished and longed for the great day as it was lawful for them to do.
They know it is their duty to maintain the station God has set them in, until they have a fair dismission; but bating that consideration, I doubt not but many a good man would sue out his Quietus est, and gladly embrace an opportunity of bidding farewell to the world.
BIOPH. You say well: But how shall this case be decided Where may a man, find such a person as you speak of
SEBAST. Perhaps you have not heard any man sing his Nunc dimittis, or if you had, it may be, you would not have believed him to be in earnest: But what think you of ST. PAUL, who professes, a he desires to be dissolved, and to be with CHRIST " And particularly, (2 Tim. 4: 7,) he foresees a violent death approaching him, and upon that occasion, by way of contemplation, places himself, as it were, upon a promontory, where he could look backward and forward, and take a view of both worlds; and when he reflects upon that which he was leaving, he finds that he had discharged his part well and worthily whilst he was in it. " I have fought the good fight," says he, " I have finished my course, I have kept the faith." But then, when he looks forward, and takes a prospect of what was to come, here he triumphs and exults with joy: Henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which God the righteous judge shall give me."
Or what do you think of so many thousand martyrs; who have not only gone out of the world with smiles on their faces, and songs in their mouths, but have chosen death when they might have lived as freely, as happily, and as long, as other men They were not worn out with age, nor vexed and wearied with poverty, nor distracted by any disaster: they had as tender and sensible constitutions as other men, as much natural affection to themselves, and as sound reason to judge what was best; and yet despised the present life and world, in comparison of that to come.
BIOPH. Nay, as for those men of old, which you speak of, I cannot tell what to make of them , But I would fain see such a man now.
SEBAST. I make no question but I could direct you to such men now; but it may be you will not believe they despise death, because you see them yet living: however, what think you of the man that hash the bravery to- deny himself those profits and pleasures which other men allow themselves (so long as they see no infamy or external danger attend them.) What think you of the man that dares be virtuous in a lewd age, and in an evil company; and has the courage to confront a whole world with his example What think you of the man that sits so loose to the world, that he can bear prosperity without being supercilious, and adversity without being dejected that can be in want without repining, and can be liberal without upbraiding Such men as these are to be found in the present age: and wherever you find any such man, assure yourself, there is a person that believes himself, or rather, that believes in GOD, and has as real a persuasion of the world to come, as other men have of that which they see with their eyes, and touch with their fingers.
BIOPH. I believe there are some such men as you speak of; and I account them brave and worthy persons: But, gentlemen, let us waive this uncomfortable subject. Come, what good news is there stirring
PHIL, O Sir, that is a prohibited commodity you inquire for: neither of us deal in it.
BIOPH. Nay, truly, for my part, I wish it had been prohibited sooner; for there has been so much knavery and sophistication in it, that several well meaning men have been cheated of their peace, their loyalty, and almost out of their wits too by it.
But so long as we are not bound to believe all that we hear, we may hear what men talk of, for our diversion.
SEBAST. Hearing and telling of news seem to me to be just such another diversion as tippling is. And it is much the same thing, whether a man's head be full of vapors of proclamations. Wind in the brain makes men giddy, as well as wine; and men reel and stagger to and fro, as unseemly, by the impulse of uncertain rumors, as those that are intoxicated with the strongest liquors. Besides, just as he that knows not how to entertain himself at home, usually applies himself to the tavern, or the ale-house, for
his relief; so it is the custom of idle people, and such as are negligent of their own affairs, to busy themselves in matters that do not belong to them. And there is yet another thing worse than all this, namely, Whereas the tavern drunkard sleeps and evaporates his wine, and comes to himself again, the coffee-house drunkard scarcely ever dispels those vapors of news that have filled his crown.
But after all, now I think better of it, I have a very remarkable story to tell you: But you are so great a critic you will believe nothing, and therefore I had as good hold my peace.
BIOPH. Nay, good SEBASTIAN, let us have it. You are a person of good intelligence, if you will please to communicate.
SEBAST. It is so very strange and wonderful news, that I suspect your faith; but. yet it is such as puts me almost into an ecstasy every time I think upon it.
BIOPH. Do not tantalize us with expectation, whilst you raise the value of your story, nor tempt our fancies to anticipate it.
SEBAST. Why then it is the discovery and description of a certain country, which is (by relation) the very garden and paradise of the whole world, so transcendantly admirable, that Italy, Thessaly, or whatsoever you have seen or heard of, in all your life, is nothing to it.
BIOPH. Pugh! Who would have expected foreign news after such a preface And all but some Island of Pines, I warrant you! Or suppose it should he true, what can it be to us However, go on SEBASTIAN; perhaps it may afford us some diversion.
SEBAST. I presaged what entertainment my news would have with you. What can it be to us, say you Why, when you understand all, you will bless yourself that there is such a place in the world, which you may go to if you please, where you may find retreat from all troubles at home, and be happy beyond imagination: nay, let me tell you, you must, you will go to it, if you love yourself.
BIOPH. You speak at a strange rate, SEBASTIAN: a man would think you were either strangely imposed upon yourself, or else that you had veryy mean apprehensions of our discretion. But let it suffice to say, that, soberly speaking, there is no country upon the face of the earth that can deserve this encomium; besides, when all is said that can be said, every man's own home is his best country.
SEBAST. Why do not you. understand me This which I am speaking of, is or will be your. home too; at least if you will but take the pains to travel thither.
BIOPH.I marry, thank you for that; but I wist it is better to believe than to go look, in this case. What, change my native country! Transplant myself at these years! No, I am too old, and have taken too deep root where I am for that.
PHIL. Assure yourself, BIOPHILUS, there is something extraordinary that SEBASTIAN expresses himself thus. He is no hypochondriac, nor whimsical enthusiast, but a man of the dryest and best tempered understanding.
BIOPH. I have always thought no less, which raises my wonder now. Come, pray you, SEBASTIAN, tell us plainly what you have to say, upon good grounds, concerning this place which you are in rapture about. In the first place, let me ask you what is the name of this strange country
SEBAST. It is called Urania.
BIOPH. A romantic name! But, I pray you, in what longitude and latitude is it situate that a man may know where to find it, if he should have a mind to go thither.
SEBAST. I am not skilful in that kind of learning, neither do I remember -that it was told me, in those terms, how the country hes; but perhaps this may tend to your satisfaction: I am assured that they have no night, or darkness there, for the sun never goes off their horizon, nor are there any long evenings, and tedious nights, which we complain of in England. By this character, I suppose, you may guess at the latitude of the place.
BIOPH. Well, I will consider of that at leisure; in the mean time, tell us what is said to be the temper of the air.
SEBAST. O Sir, the air is sweet and temperate beyond compare: it is ether rather than air; there is neither violent heat nor cold, no distinction of summer and winter, and indeed no such thing, but a perpetual spring; so that flowers blossom, and fruits ripen all the year long: and by reason of this serenity and constancy of the air, the country is so healthful, that there is never any epidemical or. reigning disease, no man feeble and languishing; nay, not so much as wrinkles or grey hairs upon any man's head or face, insomuch that you would think the inhabitants were all absolutely immortal.
BIOPH. If that one thing alone be true, I warrant you the country wants no people.
SEBAST. O very populous; yet by reason of its prodigious fruitfulness it can never be overstocked, for it yields a fresh harvest of all kinds of fruits every month, and that a most abundant one, forasmuch as no weeds, nor thorns and briers, grow there, but only that which is good for the use of man; and all this is brought forth spontaneously, without the toil and labor of man.
They say also, there are no kinds of wild beasts there; either to affright and annoy the people, or to devour the fruits of the land; nay, not so much as any serpents, or other venomous creatures, or troublesome insects; and all this is owing to the clemency of the air, the peculiar nature of the soil, together with GOD'S blessing upon both.
BIOPH. I perceive a man may eat well, and when he has so done, may sleep in a whole skin there; , that I like, and I would to GOD it were not a romance which you give us. But go on, SEBASTIAN. What is the polity and government of the country.
SEBAST. The government is perfectly monarchical, and the Prince is absolute; yet all his subjects enjoy their liberty and property as securely and fully as in any commonwealth in the world.
There is no squabbling about privileges, no interfering between prerogative and immunities, dominion and common right. The King commands what he will, and the
people willingly obey him; for his wisdom and goodness moderate his will and power better than all the boundaries of written laws.
And this I am informed of too, that though there be several degrees of subjects, as there are amongst us; yet from hence arise no emulations amongst the nobility, nor any oppression of the commons. The people do not envy and murmur against the great ones; nor, on the other side, do they as greater fish devour the lesser.
BIOPH. A rare temper of government this! And not less admirable than that of the air you spoke of before. You amaze me strangely. But what are the staple commodities of the country.
SEBAST. As for that, you must know it is not with Urania as with most other countries; where usually one province abounds with what another wants, and the other needs what that can spare, and so there is a necessity of reciprocal intercourse between them, both to reheve their necessities mutually, and to discharge their superfluities. And herein, you know, he both the reason of trade, and the security of alliances between several countries in our parts of the world. But Urania being (as was wont to be said of Egypt) a country self-sufficient, depends not at all upon foreign commerce; and therefore, as it needs nothing from abroad, so consequently it sends out few or none of those commodities it abounds with, but rather invites foreigners to come over to them, and reside amongst them, and so to partake freely of the advantages of that happy land.
Yet I must tell you they have very great rarities in those, parts, and such as are exceedingly desired by all other people that understand the worth of them. As, in particular, to specify some few, which are not at all to be found any where else:
In the first place, they have the true Elixir Vito, a very precious balm, far beyond that of Gilead, that perfectly cures all diseases, both inward and outward, I had almost said, of body and mind. This operates without any pain to the patient; and in outward applications heals all kind of wounds, and leaves no scar or mark behind it.
They have also an admirable water, which so quickens all the senses, and peculiarly the sight, that a man by the help of it shall see farther than by a telescope, and pierce into the very secrets of nature.
The common food of the country is somewhat answerable to the description of manna, 'and hat h the peculiar taste which every man affects, and satisfies all the powers of nature. They have also a delicious wine, which, amongst other virtues, makes men forget all sorrows whatsoever; and this they usually drink in an amethyst cup, which preserves them from surfeits or intemperance, what proportion so ever they drink.
Amongst the rest, they have a sort of nitre, so very powerful and abstersive, that it takes away all spots, blemishes, and aspersions, and makes those that use it so very beautiful, that they ravish the eyes of beholders. It were endless to go about to enumerate the commodities of this country, which clearly outgoes the Holy Land, though it was said that in SOLOMON'S days, gold and silver were there as common as the stones of the street. And for proof of it, the inhabitants are so rich and prosperous, that there is not one poor man in the whole land; not one to be found that doth need, or will ask an alms. The hungry and naked, those grievous spectacles, too sadly common in most other places, are not to be seen there; of which amongst other causes, these are assigned, viz., There is no miser there, who hoards up what others should live upon; nor is there any wasteful glutton or epicure, who devours his own and other folks' portion too. In short, all desirable things are there in such abundance, that every man is as rich, as full, and as happy as he pleases.
BIOPH. If all this was possible to be true, which I have not faith enough to believe, yet the felicity of this country could not be-long-lived- for it will certainly derive upon itself the envy of all its neighbors; and the effect of that will be, that those who have the best iron 'will quickly become masters of this wealth.
SEBAST. Nay, BIOPHILUS, as for that there is no danger, for the country is altogether inaccessible, save only by one narrow way, and that is so well guarded, that to this day no enemy has ever had the confidence to assail it. And besides, all the inhabitants are in such perfect peace and amity one with another, and maintain so inviolably their allegiance towards their Sovereign, that as no foreigner has any encouragement to enterprise upon them by treachery, so neither can he, without mighty folly, think himself considerable enough to prevail by force against such an united strength.
And then, for their temper and carriage towards strangers, they are infinitely civil and obliging. They deride not other men's habit, or mien, or language, or customs, or complexion; but contrariwise, whensoever any such come amongst them, they welcome them heartily, treat them with all instances of hospitality, and by all possible obligations and endearments invite then to become one people with themselves.
BIOPH. This is a very strange relation as ever I heard in my life; but, in plain English, it is too good to be true. All this can amount to no more than to some Utopia, or new Atlantis. Pardon my freedom, good SEBASTIAN: I acknowledge you a wise and a learned gentleman, but in this particular story; somebody has abused your good nature; for it can be no better than a fiction.
SEBAST. You do not ordinarily think a man bound to warrant the news he tells you, but you used to be contented to take it as he has it; and I am sure you will not allow me to prescribe to you what you shall believe. However, I assure you, upon the word of a gentleman and a Christian, I have not devised it of my own head, but am as well satisfied of the truth of the relation I have made to you, as it is possible for me to be of any thing which I have not seen with my eyes; and I am very confident I have as good grounds for my persuasion, as it is fit for a discreet man to require in such a case.
BIOPH. I wish you could satisfy me as well. I pray therefore let us know what probabilities you go upon in this matter.
SEBAST. I had this strange relation (as you esteem it) from one that came from the place, and was an eye-witness of what he reported, and therefore could not be deceived himself in what he related. And then, his quality was such, as that he could have no interest to impose upon me therein; for he was no less a man than the only son of the great Monarch of the country; and he came as ambassador extraordinary from the King, his father, on purpose to invite and incline our people to participate of that happy region, and of all the admirable advantages aforesaid; and assured us, that all which came should be free denizens of Urania.
BIOPH. Aye, good SEBASTIAN, he told you so; but how are you sure he was not an impostor, and designed to put tricks upon you and our good-natured countrymen.
SEBAST. As for that, his very person and mien spike for him; both which were so august and grand, as that no mean man could bear out the port he used. Besides this, he came not in a clancular way, but made his public entry; and his train and equipage were grave and majestic, like himself, far beyond the empty pomp and pageantry of a counterfeit. His commission and letters credential also, were publicly seen, read, and allowed; and they were sealed with such a seal, as no wit of man could imitate or counterfeit.
And unto all this, I have seen the map or chart of the country, I have perused the digest of the laws of the kingdom, these eyes have read the records of their history, and with this mouth I have tasted the delicious fruits of the land. What would you have more to justify the matter of fact
BIOPH. What would I have more Why, I think you venture too great a stock in one bottom. I would not trust to any one man, whatsoever he were, in a relation of this nature; I should require to see and speak with many about it, before I would believe it.
SEBAST. You say well. But can you think it reasonable, to require that so great a Prince should send many ambassadors on such an errand, when he aims not at his own greatness, or the accommodating of his own affairs, nor has any heed of our alliance or assistance, but merely designs our benefit Or can you expect that he should send every day fresh envoys: and that not only to whole countries, but to every individual person too No, BIOPHILUS, it was an instance of wonderful goodness that such a Prince should send one ambassador on such an errand; and admirable charity and self denial in him that undertook and performed it.
BIOPH. You speak reason, I must acknowledge, in that particular; but yet I can never believe, that if there were any such country as your intelligence amounts to, it should he undiscovered until now. What! DRAKE, CAVENDISH, COLUMBUS, DAVIS, none of them, in all their travels, take notice of such a place; nor give the least intimation of it until now
SEBAST. That is no such strange thing as you make it, if you call to mind how long a time it was before the world would believe there were Antipodes; and yet it-is plain, that so long one full half of the world was unknown to the other. Or, if you remember that time was, (and that not an ignorant one- neither,) when the Roman empire was thought to embrace the whole earth, which, as now we are certain, took not in one fifth, perhaps not one tenth of it. Do not you know that Hercules's Pillars were accounted the boundaries -of human travels, and that, for a great many ages, both the torrid and the frigid zones (as they are called) were esteemed uninhabitable Besides, you know it is not very long since those vast tracts of land, the West Indies, were first discovered. And, to say no more, I pray how many ages passed over the beads of man kind before this our native country of Britain, as consider-` able as it is, came into any knowledge or consideration with the rest of the world Think it not strange, therefore, if Urania was so late discovered.
BIOPH. But that which I principally intend to say was this: You afford me matter of great wonder, that you should be so much concerned for a place very newly discovered; (if it be discovered;) but especially, that you should believe so many strange things of it, before any one person has gone from hence, and returned hither again, to confirm those reports of it.
SEBAST. I know no way to make a man believe, that has no mind to it; yet I will give you all the satisfaction I am able.- You must know, therefore, that this country has not been wholly undiscovered until now; for, I myself leave seen a book of great authority and antiquity, which, though somewhat obscurely and figuratively written, yet pointed at such a place, and in some measure described it too, to him that attentively read and considered it. And besides, there are credible relations concerning certain persons, that have made very fortunate voyages thither.
But as to that you object, that no man has gone from hence thither, and returned again to us, to bring us the tidings,-you will easily satisfy yourself therein, if you consider what I intimated before, viz., That those who once get thither, can have no inclination to make a change so much to their disadvantage, as it must needs be for them to return hither again. Besides, though they say the passage is not long thither, yet it is no common road; and therefore very few will (at least unnecessarily) undertake it.
PHIL. But if it be an untraced path, how shall a man find. the way thither, if he have a mind to go
SEBAST. O PHILANDER! there is no great difficulty in that, if a man be well resolved on the business; for besides a chart, and very punctual instructions which the ambassador left behind him for that purpose, when he was amongst us, there are skilful and faithful guides and pilots, who freely offer their service, and will not fail, with GOD's blessing, to land us safe there.
PHIL. I cannot tell what BIOPHILUS thinks of this business; but for my part, SEBASTIAN, I am so ravished with your relation, that if there be such a place in the world, I will find it out, by GOD's help. I thank GOD I am no malcontent, either with my native country, or my private fortunes; yet I see no reason we should, like mushrooms, live and die upon the- same spot; especially if we may thus much mend ourselves by the change. I am a citizen of the world, and that shall he my country where I can fare best.
But will you go with me, SEBASTIAN Then 1: shall not be only out of all doubt of the truth of your narrative, but I shall with much more cheerfulness change my country, when I do not change my friend, nor forego your company.
SEBAST. By GOD's grace I will go with you; and to assure you- of my intentions, I will now acquaint you that I have been this good while setting things in order, and making preparations for the voyage.
PHIL. But how shall we dispose of our estates here And what commodities had we best to furnish ourselves with, to carry over with us
SEBAST. As for the disposal of our present fortunes, there are very sure returns betwixt this country and that; for the Prince himself will be your security, if you put your effects into such, hands as he has appointed. But as for merchandise to carry with us, there will be no need of that; for the country which we have in our eye is so gloriously rich and plentiful, the Prince is so noble and benign, and all the inhabitants so kind and charitable, that we shall be sure, as soon as ever we come there, to be furnished, gratis, with all that our hearts can wish; and, moreover, if we should put ourselves to the trouble of transporting our baggage with us, it would not only incumber us in our journey, but would also be such mere trash and lumber when you come there, that we should be ashamed of it, and ourselves too, for setting such a value upon it.
But there is another thing, and much more material, which I must needs tell you of, in order to our more favorable reception when we come there; and that is, we must beforehand quite alter our habit and garb, and not so much as smell of the earth we came from. Amongst other things we must disuse ourselves from onions and garlic, and from flesh too, that-we may the easier accord with the diet of the country; and we must refine our spirits, that we may be fit to breathe in that pure air; and having so done, there needs no more but to carry with us great minds and large souls, to qualify us, both for the, Society and enjoyments there.
PHIL. Thank you, dear fellow traveler, (for so I will henceforth style you,) for these instructions: I will use the best of my endeavors to be fitted accordingly. But is there any thing else that I need to be advised in.
SEBAST. O yes; there is one thing more which I doubt you do not think of; and I am somewhat afraid lest the mention of it should discourage you; but it must be, and there is no avoiding it.
PHIL. By all means let_ me know what it is, Sir. Mistrust not my courage or constancy: I will stick at nothing that crosses my way to Urania.
SEBAST. You remember I have intimated to you already, that when we come at the country we design, we shall be immortal, we can never die afterwards; but we must die beforehand, or we shall never come thither. This is the pinch of the business: What think you of it now, PHILANDER
PHIL. Never the worse for that, fellow-traveler. But what a dream have I been in all this while I thought verily you had spoken historical truth of some rare earthly country: but now my eyes are open, and I perceive you mean heaven: that is the Urania you have all this while amused us with. Now, I can unriddle the whole business: I have now a clew to guide me through the maze of your discourse, and can decipher all the figures you have used. I am sure it is heaven only can answer the character you have given: that is the place where there is no pain, sickness, nor death; there is no night_ nor darkness, but a perpetual day; there is to be found the true balsam that cures all the distempers and wounds, both of body and mind; there are to be had all the other rarities which you have mentioned; JESUS CHRIST is the ambassador from ALMIGHTY GOD, that invites us thither. All is plain and easy now. How dull was I; that I could not understand you sooner
BIOPH. And have you drolled with us all this while, SEBASTIAN Have you wheedled me back again into the subject I declined Is your famous Urania in another world I thought your news was impossible to be true, and now you as good as confess it.
SEBAST. By your pardon, BIOPHILUS, have I done you any wrong You asked for news, and I have told you good and true news; news of more importance, and more comfortable, than any the coffee-house affords: a great truth of "a kingdom that cagnot be shaken;" a kingdom wherein there is righteousness and justice, unity and joy, love and good will, everlasting peace, and' everlasting life; a state of that felicity, that it is able to make us weary of this world, and to render the time of our life tedious to us, till we come to the enjoyment of it; in a word, that is sufficient to make all the ways of virtue seem easy and delectable, and even death itself desirable in the way thither.
What think you of it, PHILANDER, now you understand what country it is I persuaded you to Doth your mind hold for the voyage Will you go on with your preparations for it, as we were discoursing before Will you venture to shoot the gulf, that you may arrive at it
PHIL. Yes, fellow-traveler, I hold my resolution. For though I find I was mistaken in the particular, yet not in the general; it was an earthly paradise that I had in my thoughts, and I had no other apprehensions of your design; and therein BIOPHILUS was more in the right than I, who was confident there could be no such country in this world as you described. But I heartily thank you for the deception; you-have cheated us into our own advantage. And now that I understand you, I do not change my course, though I change my port: I hope I shall not be so absurd as to be more in earnest for an earthly country than for a heavenly.
Who would not gladly be at everlasting rest, and in an unchangeable condition We are but pilgrims and strangers in this world; but there we shall be at home, and in our Father's house. Here we are continually tossed with winds and seas, tormented betwixt hopes and fears; and shall be safe as upon a rock; stable and settled as the mountains.
Who can choose but wish to live for ever, and would not be contented to die once, that he might be out of the reach of chance or danger for ever after Everlasting life! what an ocean of joy and felicity is contained in it! Surely he doth not love himself, or doth not understand himself, who would not gladly leave an uncertain, troublesome, quarrelsome, foolish, disputing, suspicious, envious world, upon far easier terms than the attainment of it. But to live with the ever blessed JESUS, to spend eternity in the society of good and wise, kind and peaceable men, to enter into everlasting friendships, inviolable peace, unchangeable felicity; I am transported with the thoughts of it!
When once I had the happiness to take notice of a poor man, blind from his mother's womb, who never had seen the sun, nor 'could have any notion of beauty or colors, nor any of that variety of delightful objects which the eye and light entertain us with; when afterwards, I say, by a strange cure, this poor man had his eyes opened, and found a crowd of new delights press in upon him, he thought himself surrounded with miracles, and was almost distracted with wonder. And certainly no less, but a great deal more will our surprise be, when we come to heaven; where, probably, we shall have new powers opened, which shall discover such glories to us aswe were not capable of perceiving before, if they had been presented to us: but most certainly we shall have then new objects of delight to entertain those powers we have, and those transcendant to all we ever had experience of before.
When we' shall come to heaven, our spiritual Canaan, to the enjoyment of a happiness of GOD's preparing, who path all the ingredients of felicity in his power, and infinite wisdom to contrive and compound them, and unspeakable goodness to bestow them; and who, as the Scripture expresses it, has, from the beginning of the world been designing and preparing such a system of joy and felicity, as may at once both most delight his creatures, and display all his attributes: When, I say, we shall observe' the strange change between a narrow, stingy, necessitous, - unquiet, sickly, peevish, and contentious world, which we have left behind us, and the settlement and peace,, plenty and glory, of that we enter upon; it will not be easy for us (without larger minds than we have now) to know how to behave ourselves; we shall be apt to be oppressed with wonder, and, if it were possible, to die with excess of joy.
SEBAST. You speak sensibly, dear PHILANDER. You seem to have gone up to mount Nebo, and to have fed your eyes with the prospect of the Holy Land: But have you considered the difficulties of the way,' as well as the happiness of the journey's end Will you not repent, and bethink of turning back when you encounter difficulty or danger Will not death affright you when it appears in all its dismal pomp Will you not shrink when you shall come to be stripped naked of all your worldly habiliments Will you not have a lingering after your old accommodations,-your fine house, rich furniture, pleasant garden, sprightly wines, or any other pleasures and entertainments of the body
PHIL. No, no, SEBASTIAN; I will go to heaven,-whatever come of it. What can discourage a man when heaven is at stake If the journey put me to a little trouble, there is rest at the end of it. What is it to exercise a little patience, when a man shall be crowned at last Who would not run, strive, do, or suffer any thing, and venture all upon such a wager
Shall I be solicitous for my estate and worldly accommodations, when I know, whether I go to heaven or no, I must shortly leave them all behind me And surely if they cannot save me from death, they ought not to hinder me of eternal life.
Or, shall I hanker after onions and garlic, and the flesh-pots of Egypt, as you called the pleasures of the body, which will certainly forsake me, if I do not forsake them first No; I have counted the cost; there is nothing shall discourage me, by the grace of Go n; I will go to heaven. But, I pray, let us not part company; let us go to heaven together.
SEBAST. With all my heart, dear friend; for though I doubt we must not expect much company with us, yet perfect solitude is somewhat uncomfortable; and there are great advantages of society: for, if any body should be so absurd as to laugh at us on our journey, we can the better despise them. If either of us should happen to be heavy and weary in our way, we may animate and quicken one another; if any difficulty befall, that may be too hard for one of us, by our united strength we may be able to encounter and remove it; if either of us should swerve a little out of the narrow way, towards the right hand, or towards the left, the other may recall and rectify him. Besides, the great additional comfort it will be when we come to our journey's end, not- only that we see one another happy, and enjoy one another's society; but especially when we reflect upon the good service we have done one another, in bringing each other thither; -we shall have our joys redoubled by the reflection, and feel not only our own shares, but that also of each other.
PHIL: Happily thought of, fellow traveler; but will not BIOPHILUS go with us too What say you, Sir
BIOPH. You are honest gentlemen, and my good friends But, what romances do you make! what castles do you build in the air! and what shadows do you feed yourselves withal! You talk of heaven as confidently as if you had traveled a hundred times through all the regions of it; or rather, indeed, as if you had visited the world in the moon. But when; all is done, did ever you, or any body else, see such a place as heaven Leave these enthusiastical whimsies, and talk like men: speak of something that is certain and visible, and do not forego substance for shadows, certainties for uncertainties.
PHIL. Good neighbor, in requital of the caution you give us, assure yourself we have the same senses that to you have, and only wish you had the same faith 'that we have. We are not willing to part with certainties for uncertainties; for if heaven be not certain, nothing else is. - And "as for the things of this world, they are so far from it, that nothing is more certain than that we must part with them shortly whether we will or no. But as for the other world, we know whom we have believed.
BIOPH. I tell you all is but dream and fancy; there is no proof in the world for it. All you have to say is, that men must believe: as if you should say, shut your eyes and see; you persuade a man to find the way to heaven blindfold. No; give me good proof, or I will not stir a foot: with me, seeing is believing.
PHIL. Remember yourself, good neighbor: Are not you a Christian Do you not believe that JESUS CHRIST came from heaven on purpose to show us the way thither And did not he confirm his report by undeniable miracles Besides, do you not see all wise men provide for another world; and that generally good men, when they come to die, are ravished with joy in contemplation of it, as if they really saw heaven open to receive them
BIOPH. Whether or no I believe as much as you do, yet I believe this one thing instead of all the rest, that we are born to be cheated: for, what with the illusions of our own melancholy fancies, what by the prejudices of our education, what by the authority of unaccountable tradition, and what by the designs of politicians, it is a hard matter to know what else to believe.
PHIL. Indeed, BIOPHILUS, I am both sorry and ashamed to hear you talk at this rate. And I do not wonder now, that you were so desirous to decline this sort of discourse when we fell upon it. You seem not only to reject Christianity, but all religion in general; and upon those terms you will be as little fit for this world, as for that which is to come.
For, what a sad creature is a man of no religion at all What state or civil government will be able to endure him, whom no oaths can fasten upon How can, there be any civil society with him, that can neither trust, nor be trusted What security can such a man give, that he shall not disturb the state, violate the person of his Prince, falsify his trust, betray his friend, cut his neighbor's throat, if he be under the awe of no God, the expectation of no rewards nor punishments in another world What security can there be, I say, in dealing with such a man what sincerity in his friendship, what safety in his neighborhood For all these depend upon the reverence of religion; which. he that is wholly destitute of, must needs be a wolf's head; the pest and vermin of human society.
Do not, therefore, dear BIOPHIILUS, at once both stifle your own conscience, and affront the common sense and reason of mankind. Do not, under the pretence of being more witty than other men, reason yourself into brutality; and whilst you grow overwise in your own eyes, be the, most fatally mistaken, and lost for ever.
Let not the opinion you have, that other men are under prejudices, prejudice you against arguments for believing. Come, deal ingenuously, and open your breast: propound the grounds of your suspicions, the objections you have against religion; and though I cannot promise you that I will answer them all to your satisfaction, yet I doubt not but there is one that will.
BIOPH. Look you, Gentlemen, you put me into a great strait;. for if I do not disclose my mind to you, I shall seem disingenuous; and, on the other side, if I do discover my sentiments, it is probable that my creed will fall so many articles short of yours, that we shall break into some heats, and endanger the continuance of our neighborly conversation. However, since it seems to be your desire, I will be plain with you.
Now, in the first place, that you may not think me a perfect sceptic, I declare to you that I acknowledge the Being of a GOD; and that not only because the generality of mankind, and even EPICURUS himself, owned so much, but because it is not conceivable how the world should be without one; for no wit or reason of man can evince to me, how any thing should begin to be, without some necessary and eternal existent to begin the motion, and to bring it into being; or, which is the same thing in effect, there can be no second cause if there be no First.
But then, beyond this you must pardon me; for, to deal sincerely with you, I do not think that this GOD minds or troubles himself about the world after he had made it much less do I see any sufficient ground for that which PHILANDER has been talking so warmly about; namely, a world to come. And for eternal life, (which men speak such great things of,) I profess I look upon it as a' flat impossibility; forasmuch as I see men die, but see no foundation for a belief, that there is any life or existence out of a body:
There are some other points, that I withhold my assent from; but because you have challenged me to a rational debate, therefore, to put the business between us to an issue, I will insist but upon one point, and that shall be the same which we fell into by chance at our first coming together; namely, Whether there be such a thing as a general judgment, where men's actions shall be reviewed and censured after this life. Prove me but this one point sufficiently, and I will grant you all the rest.
SEBAST. What proof do you require of this Why should not the testimony of the Holy Scriptures satisfy you.
BIOPH. Excuse me there, SEBASTIAN; I am not to be borne down by authority, but convinced by reason. If you will do any good upon me, you must deal with me as a Philosopher, not a bigoted person.
SEBAST. By your favor, it is not to impose upon you, to give you divine authority for proof. I hope GOD may be believed upon his own word; especially in a business of this nature, which depends so much upon the determination of his will: for who can tell GOD's mind better than himself 'I Who knows the mind of man, but the Spirit of a man which is in him " And who can pretend to declare what Gob will do, unless he be pleased to reveal his intentions But if he declare he will judge the world, we may be sure it shall be done.
BIOPH. Aye, but that is the question. How shall I be assured that GOD has any such intentions, or has made any such declaration
SEBAST. That which we call by the name of Holy Scripture, is nothing else but a collection of such declarations of the mind of the Divine Majesty, as he has thought fit, from time to time, to make to the sons of men. And those books, which are so called, have been reverenced by wise men in all ages upon that account, as such: All imaginable care has been taken to preserve the ln from corruption or depravation; and several of the best of men have exposed their lives, rather than consent to the destruction of them. Now, why should you call in question the authority -of these books, which you cannot do without impeaching the wisdom of the most able, and the sincerity of the most honest, of men; and upon the same terms you derogate from the faith of all mankind, and must (if you will be impartial) abrogate the credit of all the old records in the world. Forasmuch as (besides all other considerations) these sacred records, I mean the books of the Old and New Testament, bear an irrefragable testimony to each other; and, as a pair of indentures, justify one another. Which you will easily be convinced of, if you consider, that these two volumes were written in several very remote ages, and, consequently, by persons that could hold no correspondence one with another; and were in the custody of those that were of such contrary interests and opinions, that it was impossible they either would or could conspire together to put a cheat upon the world in them. Now if, notwithstanding, these two books (in the circumstances aforesaid) shall verify one another, , so as that whatsoever the Old Testament promises, the New Testament performs; what the one foretold, the other represents the accomplishment of; what ground is there, or can there be, to suspect the truth of them For if several witnesses, and those of several countries, and of contrary interests, such as never saw the faces of one another before, and therefore neither would nor could combine together and contrive their story, and especially being examined apart too, shall, notwithstanding, jump in the same matter of fact, and circumstances also, there is no man so abounding in his own sense, but will allow their evidence to be good and substantial; then much more is there very good ground to believe those books which have all these advantages, and several other which I will insist upon.
BIOPH. These are pretty things which you say; but this is not that kind of proof I expected from you. If this be all the satisfaction you can give me, I am where I was.
SEBAST. No, BIOPHILUS, this is. not all I have to say; but I thought fit to remonstrate to you the sufficiency of this kind of proof in itself, which men of your way are apt to make so slight of; and thence to convince you, that those men that take up with this alone, are not so soft and credulous people as you are wont to represent them.
But what if I had no other proof but this, I do not find that you are able to reply any thing to it. Besides, if this way of probation were far less considerable than it is, yet you know any evidence will serve against none; and the meanest arguments will carry a cause, when there is nothing to be said on the other side. If you could but pretend to prove, on your part, that there were no such thing as a judgment to come, you had then some reason to be strict in your demands of proof from me, of what I assert: But in a true balance, the least grain will cast the scale when there is nothing against it.
Now, besides the unequal balance of nothing against something, be it never so small, do but consider what strange -imprudence it is to adventure so great a stake, as all your interest in another world amounts to, upon a mere Non putaram. For, what if such a thing should happen to prove true at last, what will become of you then
Wise men are: wont to value, not only. certainties, but also probabilities, and even contingencies also. Now, seeing it is not impossible but such a thing may be, and it is of infinite consequence if it should be, there is all the wisdom in the world to be provided for it. You will say, it may not be: But that is all that infidelity itself can enable you to say: and then sure it is far safer to suppose that it may be, for no hurt can come of that; but the danger is unspeakable on the other side, if it should prove to be true. In a word, in such a case as this is, it is a wise man's part rather to believe upon slight evidence, than to disbelieve upon great presumptions.
BIOPH. I am beholden to you for the friendly caution you give me: But it is your reasons I expect at this time, and not your advice.
SEBAST. Those you shall have presently; and do not think I decline the proof I promised, because I proceed thus gradually with you: the true reason whereof is, because I would rather your own prudence should incline you to believe, than that my arguments should press you to it; and I much more desire that you should be safe, than that I should have the glory of a victory. It is only your concern that we go upon; have therefore a little patience, that we may rightly understand one another; and since you have refused Scripture proof, give me leave to ask you particularly, what kind of proof you expect of this matter under our consideration.
In the first place, I hope you do not require sensible evidence of a day of judgment. You were saying even now, that no man had seen heaven, and therefore you did not believe it. Possibly, those words slipped from you unadvisedly. However, it is (you know) a thing future which we are now debating about; and sensible proof cannot be required of that, without flat contradiction. It is as if a man should desire to see that which confessedly is not to be seen; and that a thing should be that is not; or be, and not be, at the same time. You know you cannot have sensible evidence to day, that the sun will rise tomorrow: In short, neither of any thing past, nor future; but only of that which is present.
BIOPH. Well, we are agreed for that. I did, I confess, speak of seeing heaven, but there was no contradiction in that; because if there be any such place, it is supposed to be constantly existent, and therefore may be visible: yet I do not expect to see the judgment until the time comes; because futures are not to be seen, but foreseen. Go on therefore, and give me rational evidence, and it shall suffice.
SEBAST. But there is another thing I desire to be resolved of, namely, What measure or degree of rational evidence you will be satisfied with The reason of my
inquiry is this: Some men there are, who pretend to a readiness to believe upon just grounds; but when it comes to trial, they are humorsome and captious; they will require such evidence as the nature of the thing cannot admit of; (even supposing it to be true;) they expect such proof as shall leave no room for cavil and exception, such as a man can find no evasion from. Now I must tell you, this is very hard and unreasonable in any case whatsoever; forasmuch as the wit of man is fitter to pull down, than to build up and it is the easiest thing in the world to find shifts and cavils, insomuch that be must believe very little indeed, that will admit of nothing which some slight objection or other may be made against.
Therefore, all that you can justly expect in the present case, is, that there be sufficient ground given you for a discreet choice; and overweight enough in one scale to incline the judgment of a prudent man so far, that he shall see it more reasonable that he believe, than that he do not. This is the just standard of prudence, and this is the principle that wise men govern themselves by in weighty affairs. And, indeed, if no man should determine himself to the pursuit of a business, until there were no objection, no excuse, color, or pretence, to the contrary; all the noblest projections, and most necessary undertakings of mankind, would be nipped and blasted in the bud.
BIOPH. In truth, I do not see but that your demand is reasonable; and I must yield to you in this particular also.
SEBAST. Then I ask no more.
PHIL. Yes, SEBASTIAN, let me put you in mind of one thing more; which is, that BIOPHILUS will promise you to hold the scales even; otherwise, an overweight in either of them will not be discernible. My meaning is, that he agree to be sincerely indifferent, and willing to believe on the one side, as well as the other: for I have found by my own experience, that whilst a man retains a partial fondness for an opinion, it is not all the arguments in the world that can beat him out of it; he will see all that which makes for him as through a magnifying glass; and all that which is against him, seems little and despicable. But. when a man comes to this pass, that he is content one side should be true as well as the other, then (and not till then) the best reason will carry it. Therefore, unless you premise this, you will strive against the stream, and dispute in vain.
SEBAST. Thank you heartily for that, PHILANDER. It is very true, BIOPHILUS, that if you oppose prejudice against the discourse I am to make to you, that will be armor of proof against all the arguments that can be brought; and then we had as good stay here, as go farther and lose our labor.
But why should you not lean as far towards the doctrine which I am asserting, as towards the contrary Nay, why should you not look upon it as greatly your interest, that there should be another world, and a Judgment at the end of this It is certain, you and all of us must die; there is no peradventure in that; and it were a most dismal thing to think of it, if death put an utter end to a man, so that all his comforts and all his hopes expire with him. And I wonder, in my heart, how any man can think of death with any patience upon those terms; and that it doth not make him sullen and melancholy all the days of his life. You will say, he must yield to necessity: but that is a remedy worse than the disease, (if it be possible,) to seek a cure for death in desperation. To tell me there is a necessity of dying, is only to tell me there is no help in the case; which is the very thing I complain of.
And this consideration is so much the more sharp and cutting, by how much the more man's life has been pleasant and comfortable. As for a man that has all his lifetime been oppressed with calamities, pinched with poverty, covered with obloquy, or afflicted with pain, it may seem easy to him -to die, that so he might have that rest in the grave, which he could not have above ground. But for him that has good treatment in the world, pleasant accommodation, tempting fortunes and enjoyments; for such a man to think of death, which will spoil him of all his ornaments, and level him with the dust; that will interrupt all his delights, put an end to all his designs, and draw a dark veil over all his glories: I say, if such a man has nothing to comfort him against death, if there be no life after this, but a man must for ever forsake, and be forsaken of all his felicities, I cannot see how he can possibly avoid an unspeakable abhorrence of it. Nay, that is not all; for, methinks it should render all his present enjoyments, not only insipid and loathsome, but even a torment to him.
Now, why should any man resist the only remedy in this case, against the sum of all calamities; which is, the hopes of another life Why should he be willing to die as the beast dies, and to abandon himself to the grave, to rottenness, and oblivion It were certainly better never to have been born, than both to live in perpetual fear of dying, and being dead, to be as if a man had never lived: better never to have tasted the sweets of life, than to be only tantalized; and by the time he begins to live, to begin to die; and then be eternally deprived of what he just had a sight of.
Nay, farther yet; if a man had lived only like a beast, it had been no great matter to die like a beast: if, I say, a man looked no farther than his fodder, had no sense of any thing but eating and, drinking, and had a soul in him, that served only for salt to keep the body from putrefaction, so that he never looked about him, made no improvement of himself, and had no designs in his head, it were less matter if he returned to the earth, which (like a mole) he did nothing but root in and turn over, whilst he was upon it. But for a man of an active soul, of improved parts, of reason, and wisdom, and usefulness, to be smothered in the grave; so that all his notions and discoveries, all his arts and sciences, nay, all his virtues, all his hopes and designs shall be abruptly broken off, and buried in oblivion; this is so sad a thing, that it is able to discourage all study and industry, all care and culture of a man's life: for why should I strive to live like a man, if I must die like a beast Why should I take pains to know, when, I by increasing knowledge, I should but increase my sorrow ' forasmuch as the more I know, the more I shall feel myself miserable; and, indeed, become guilty of my own torment. So that if there were no hopes after this present life, it would be a more advisable course for a man to abandon himself to the most dark and squalid barbarism, than to wear out himself in the quest of knowledge; and better never to apply himself to any study, or to bestow any pains or cost upon himself; nay, indeed, if it were possible, it were desirable never to know anything, or to think at all.
For why should a man put a cheat upon himself Why should he take, not only unprofitable, but vexatious pains In a word, why should he not so live, as he must die To all which, add, that if there were indeed no other world, and if there be any man that can find in his heart to be fond of living upon these terms, he must of necessity be a pitiable slave whilst he continues here: the perpetual fears of death cramping him, and keeping him in continual bondage, that he shall not have the spirit or courage to dare to do any brave action; but, contrariwise, he will-be unavoidably tempted to be a wretched coward, and base fellow; and become a sordid parasite, to flatter and humor every body, merely upon the account of self-preservation.