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oufly conceal'd them, to the detriment of the Buyer? Where is the Merchant that has never against his Confcience extoll'd his Wares beyond their Worth, to make them go off the better?

Decio, a Man of great Figure, that had large Commiffions for Sugar from several Parts beyond Sea, treats about a confiderable parcel of that Commodity with Alcander an Eminent West-India Merchant; both understood the Market very well, but could not agree: Decio was a Man of Substance, and thought no body ought to buy cheaper than himself; Alcander was the fame, and not wanting Money, stood for his Price. Whilst they were driving their Bargain at a Tavern near the Exchange, Alcander's Man brought his Master a Letter from the WestIndies, that inform'd him of a much greater quantity of Sugars coming for England than was expected. Alcander now wish'd for nothing more than to fell at Decio's Price, before the News was publick; but being a cunning Fox, that he might not feem too precipitant, nor yet lose his Customer, he drops the Discourse they were upon, and putting on a Jovial Humour, commends the Agreeableness of the Weather, from whence falling upon the Delight he took in his Gardens, invites Decio to go along with him to his Country House, that was not above Twelve Miles from London. It was in the Month of May, May, and as it happen'd upon a Saturday in the Afternoon: Decio, who was a single Man, and would have no Business in Town before. Tuesday, accepts of the other's Civility, and away they go in Alcander's Coach. Decio was splendidly entertain'd that Night and the Day following; the Monday Morning, to get himself an Appetite, he goes to take the Air upon a Pad of Alcander's, and coming back meets with a Gentleman of his Acquaintance, who tells him News was come the Night before that the Barbadoes Fleet was destroy'd by a Storm, and adds, that before he came out it had been confirm'd at Lloyd's Coffee House, where it was thought Sugars would rise 25 per Cent. by Change time. Decio returns to his Friend, and immediately refumes the Discourse they had broke off at the Tavern: Alcander, who thinking himself sure of his Chap, did not design to have moved it till after Dinner, was very glad to see himself so happily prevented; but how defirous foever he was to fell, the other was yet more eager to buy; yet both of them afraid of one another, for a confiderable time counterfeited all the Indifference imaginable; 'till at last Decio fired with what he had heard, thought Delays might prove dangerous, and throwing a Guinea upon the Table, struck the Bargain at Alcander's Price. The next Day they went to London; the News prov'd E 2 true,

true, and Decio got Five Hundred Pounds by his Sugars. Alcander, whilst he had strove to over-reach the other, was paid in his own Coin: yet all this is called fair dealing; but I am fure neither of them would have defired to be done by, as they did to each other.

(C.) The Soldiers that were forc'd to fight,
If they furviv'd, got Honour by't.
Page 6. Line 11.

be thought

O unaccountable is the Defire to So well of in Men, that tho' they are dragg'd into the War against their Will, and some of them for their Crimes, and are compell'd to fight with Threats, and often Blows, yet they would be esteem'd for what they would have avoided, if it had been in their Power: Whereas if Reason in Man was of equal weight with his Pride, he could never be pleas'd with Praifes, which he is confcious he don't deferve.

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By Honour, in its proper and genuine • Signification, we mean nothing else but the good Opinion of others, which is counted more or lefs Substantial, the more or less Noise or Bustle there is made about the demonstration of it; and when we say the Sovereign vereign is the Fountain of Honour, it fignifies that he has the Power, by Titles or Ceremonies, or both together, to stamp a Mark upon whom he pleases, that shall be as current as his Coin, and procure the Owner the good Opinion of every Body, whether he deserves it

or not.

The Reverse of Honour is Dishonour, or Ignominy, which consists in the bad Opinion and Contempt of others; and as the first is counted a Reward for good Actions, so this is esteem'd a Punishment for bad ones; and the more or less publick or heinous the manner is in which this Contempt of others is shewn, the more or less the Person so suffering is degraded by it. This Ignominy is likewife called Shame, from the effect it produces; for tho' the Good and Evil of Honour and Dishonour are imaginary, yet there is a Reality in Shame, as it signifies a Paffion, that has its proper Symptons, over-rules our Reafon, and requires as much Labour and Selfdenial to be subdued, as any of the reft; and since the most important Actions of Life often are regulated according to the Influence this Passion has upon us, a thorough Understanding of it must help to illustrate the Notions the World has of Honour and Ignominy. I shall therefore defcribe it at large.

First, to define the Paffion of Shame, I think it may be call'd a forrowful Reflection on our own Unworthiness, proceeding from an AppreE3 benfion

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benfion that others either do, or might, if they knew all, defervedly despise us. The only Objection of weight that can be rais'd against this Definition is, that innocent Virgins are often asham'd, and blush when they are guilty of no Crime, and can give no manner of Reafon for this Frailty: And that Men are often asham'd for others, for, or with whom, they have neither Friendship or Affinity, and consequently that there may be a thousand Instances of Shame given, to which the Words of the Definition are not applicable. To answer this, I would have it first confider'd, that the Modesty of Women is the Result of Custom and Education, by which all unfashionable Denudations and filthy Expressions are render'd frightful and abominable to them, and that notwithstanding this, the most Virtuous Young Woman alive will often, in spite of her Teeth, have Thoughts and confus'd Ideas of Things arife in her Imagination, which she would not reveal to some People for a Thousand Worlds. Then, I say, that when obscene Words are spoken in the prefence of an unexperienc'd Virgin, she is afraid that some Body will reckon her to understand what they mean, and confequently that she understands this, and that, and several things which she defires to be thought ignorant of. The reflecting on this, and that Thoughts are forming to her Disadvantage, brings upon her that Paffion which we call Shame; and what

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