ariondas/full_text_dataset · Datasets at Hugging Face

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to kill those beasts that are more necessary and useful to mankind,
whereas the killing and tearing of so small and miserable an animal can
only attract the huntsman with a false show of pleasure, from which he
can reap but small advantage. They look on the desire of the bloodshed,
even of beasts, as a mark of a mind that is already corrupted with
cruelty, or that at least, by too frequent returns of so brutal a
pleasure, must degenerate into it.

"Thus though the rabble of mankind look upon these, and on innumerable
other things of the same nature, as pleasures, the Utopians, on the
contrary, observing that there is nothing in them truly pleasant,
conclude that they are not to be reckoned among pleasures; for though
these things may create some tickling in the senses (which seems to be a
true notion of pleasure), yet they imagine that this does not arise from
the thing itself, but from a depraved custom, which may so vitiate a
man's taste that bitter things may pass for sweet, as women with child
think pitch or tallow taste sweeter than honey; but as a man's sense,
when corrupted either by a disease or some ill habit, does not change the
nature of other things, so neither can it change the nature of pleasure.

"They reckon up several sorts of pleasures, which they call true ones;
some belong to the body, and others to the mind. The pleasures of the
mind lie in knowledge, and in that delight which the contemplation of
truth carries with it; to which they add the joyful reflections on a well-
spent life, and the assured hopes of a future happiness. They divide the
pleasures of the body into two sorts--the one is that which gives our
senses some real delight, and is performed either by recruiting Nature
and supplying those parts which feed the internal heat of life by eating
and drinking, or when Nature is eased of any surcharge that oppresses it,
when we are relieved from sudden pain, or that which arises from
satisfying the appetite which Nature has wisely given to lead us to the
propagation of the species. There is another kind of pleasure that
arises neither from our receiving what the body requires, nor its being
relieved when overcharged, and yet, by a secret unseen virtue, affects
the senses, raises the passions, and strikes the mind with generous
impressions--this is, the pleasure that arises from music. Another kind
of bodily pleasure is that which results from an undisturbed and vigorous
constitution of body, when life and active spirits seem to actuate every
part. This lively health, when entirely free from all mixture of pain,
of itself gives an inward pleasure, independent of all external objects
of delight; and though this pleasure does not so powerfully affect us,
nor act so strongly on the senses as some of the others, yet it may be
esteemed as the greatest of all pleasures; and almost all the Utopians
reckon it the foundation and basis of all the other joys of life, since
this alone makes the state of life easy and desirable, and when this is
wanting, a man is really capable of no other pleasure. They look upon
freedom from pain, if it does not rise from perfect health, to be a state
of stupidity rather than of pleasure. This subject has been very
narrowly canvassed among them, and it has been debated whether a firm and
entire health could be called a pleasure or not. Some have thought that
there was no pleasure but what was 'excited' by some sensible motion in
the body. But this opinion has been long ago excluded from among them;
so that now they almost universally agree that health is the greatest of
all bodily pleasures; and that as there is a pain in sickness which is as
opposite in its nature to pleasure as sickness itself is to health, so
they hold that health is accompanied with pleasure. And if any should
say that sickness is not really pain, but that it only carries pain along
with it, they look upon that as a fetch of subtlety that does not much
alter the matter. It is all one, in their opinion, whether it be said
that health is in itself a pleasure, or that it begets a pleasure, as
fire gives heat, so it be granted that all those whose health is entire
have a true pleasure in the enjoyment of it. And they reason thus:--'What
is the pleasure of eating, but that a man's health, which had been
weakened, does, with the assistance of food, drive away hunger, and so
recruiting itself, recovers its former vigour? And being thus refreshed
it finds a pleasure in that conflict; and if the conflict is pleasure,
the victory must yet breed a greater pleasure, except we fancy that it
becomes stupid as soon as it has obtained that which it pursued, and so
neither knows nor rejoices in its own welfare.' If it is said that
health cannot be felt, they absolutely deny it; for what man is in
health, that does not perceive it when he is awake? Is there any man
that is so dull and stupid as not to acknowledge that he feels a delight
in health? And what is delight but another name for pleasure?

"But, of all pleasures, they esteem those to be most valuable that lie in
the mind, the chief of which arise out of true virtue and the witness of
a good conscience. They account health the chief pleasure that belongs
to the body; for they think that the pleasure of eating and drinking, and
all the other delights of sense, are only so far desirable as they give
or maintain health; but they are not pleasant in themselves otherwise
than as they resist those impressions that our natural infirmities are
still making upon us. For as a wise man desires rather to avoid diseases
than to take physic, and to be freed from pain rather than to find ease
by remedies, so it is more desirable not to need this sort of pleasure
than to be obliged to indulge it. If any man imagines that there is a
real happiness in these enjoyments, he must then confess that he would be
the happiest of all men if he were to lead his life in perpetual hunger,
thirst, and itching, and, by consequence, in perpetual eating, drinking,
and scratching himself; which any one may easily see would be not only a
base, but a miserable, state of a life. These are, indeed, the lowest of
pleasures, and the least pure, for we can never relish them but when they
are mixed with the contrary pains. The pain of hunger must give us the
pleasure of eating, and here the pain out-balances the pleasure. And as
the pain is more vehement, so it lasts much longer; for as it begins
before the pleasure, so it does not cease but with the pleasure that
extinguishes it, and both expire together. They think, therefore, none
of those pleasures are to be valued any further than as they are
necessary; yet they rejoice in them, and with due gratitude acknowledge
the tenderness of the great Author of Nature, who has planted in us
appetites, by which those things that are necessary for our preservation

to kill those beasts that are more necessary and useful to mankind,

whereas the killing and tearing of so small and miserable an animal can

only attract the huntsman with a false show of pleasure, from which he

can reap but small advantage. They look on the desire of the bloodshed,

even of beasts, as a mark of a mind that is already corrupted with

cruelty, or that at least, by too frequent returns of so brutal a

pleasure, must degenerate into it.

"Thus though the rabble of mankind look upon these, and on innumerable

other things of the same nature, as pleasures, the Utopians, on the

contrary, observing that there is nothing in them truly pleasant,

conclude that they are not to be reckoned among pleasures; for though

these things may create some tickling in the senses (which seems to be a

true notion of pleasure), yet they imagine that this does not arise from

the thing itself, but from a depraved custom, which may so vitiate a

man's taste that bitter things may pass for sweet, as women with child

think pitch or tallow taste sweeter than honey; but as a man's sense,

when corrupted either by a disease or some ill habit, does not change the

nature of other things, so neither can it change the nature of pleasure.

"They reckon up several sorts of pleasures, which they call true ones;

some belong to the body, and others to the mind. The pleasures of the

mind lie in knowledge, and in that delight which the contemplation of

truth carries with it; to which they add the joyful reflections on a well-

spent life, and the assured hopes of a future happiness. They divide the

pleasures of the body into two sorts--the one is that which gives our

senses some real delight, and is performed either by recruiting Nature

and supplying those parts which feed the internal heat of life by eating

and drinking, or when Nature is eased of any surcharge that oppresses it,

when we are relieved from sudden pain, or that which arises from

satisfying the appetite which Nature has wisely given to lead us to the

propagation of the species. There is another kind of pleasure that

arises neither from our receiving what the body requires, nor its being

relieved when overcharged, and yet, by a secret unseen virtue, affects

the senses, raises the passions, and strikes the mind with generous

impressions--this is, the pleasure that arises from music. Another kind

of bodily pleasure is that which results from an undisturbed and vigorous

constitution of body, when life and active spirits seem to actuate every

part. This lively health, when entirely free from all mixture of pain,

of itself gives an inward pleasure, independent of all external objects

of delight; and though this pleasure does not so powerfully affect us,

nor act so strongly on the senses as some of the others, yet it may be

esteemed as the greatest of all pleasures; and almost all the Utopians

reckon it the foundation and basis of all the other joys of life, since

this alone makes the state of life easy and desirable, and when this is

wanting, a man is really capable of no other pleasure. They look upon

freedom from pain, if it does not rise from perfect health, to be a state

of stupidity rather than of pleasure. This subject has been very

narrowly canvassed among them, and it has been debated whether a firm and

entire health could be called a pleasure or not. Some have thought that

there was no pleasure but what was 'excited' by some sensible motion in

the body. But this opinion has been long ago excluded from among them;

so that now they almost universally agree that health is the greatest of

all bodily pleasures; and that as there is a pain in sickness which is as

opposite in its nature to pleasure as sickness itself is to health, so

they hold that health is accompanied with pleasure. And if any should

say that sickness is not really pain, but that it only carries pain along

with it, they look upon that as a fetch of subtlety that does not much

alter the matter. It is all one, in their opinion, whether it be said

that health is in itself a pleasure, or that it begets a pleasure, as

fire gives heat, so it be granted that all those whose health is entire

have a true pleasure in the enjoyment of it. And they reason thus:--'What

is the pleasure of eating, but that a man's health, which had been

weakened, does, with the assistance of food, drive away hunger, and so

recruiting itself, recovers its former vigour? And being thus refreshed

it finds a pleasure in that conflict; and if the conflict is pleasure,

the victory must yet breed a greater pleasure, except we fancy that it

becomes stupid as soon as it has obtained that which it pursued, and so

neither knows nor rejoices in its own welfare.' If it is said that

health cannot be felt, they absolutely deny it; for what man is in

health, that does not perceive it when he is awake? Is there any man

that is so dull and stupid as not to acknowledge that he feels a delight

in health? And what is delight but another name for pleasure?

"But, of all pleasures, they esteem those to be most valuable that lie in

the mind, the chief of which arise out of true virtue and the witness of

a good conscience. They account health the chief pleasure that belongs

to the body; for they think that the pleasure of eating and drinking, and

all the other delights of sense, are only so far desirable as they give

or maintain health; but they are not pleasant in themselves otherwise

than as they resist those impressions that our natural infirmities are

still making upon us. For as a wise man desires rather to avoid diseases

than to take physic, and to be freed from pain rather than to find ease

by remedies, so it is more desirable not to need this sort of pleasure

than to be obliged to indulge it. If any man imagines that there is a

real happiness in these enjoyments, he must then confess that he would be

the happiest of all men if he were to lead his life in perpetual hunger,

thirst, and itching, and, by consequence, in perpetual eating, drinking,

and scratching himself; which any one may easily see would be not only a

base, but a miserable, state of a life. These are, indeed, the lowest of

pleasures, and the least pure, for we can never relish them but when they

are mixed with the contrary pains. The pain of hunger must give us the

pleasure of eating, and here the pain out-balances the pleasure. And as

the pain is more vehement, so it lasts much longer; for as it begins

before the pleasure, so it does not cease but with the pleasure that

extinguishes it, and both expire together. They think, therefore, none

of those pleasures are to be valued any further than as they are

necessary; yet they rejoice in them, and with due gratitude acknowledge

the tenderness of the great Author of Nature, who has planted in us

appetites, by which those things that are necessary for our preservation