acknowledged to be good, he can look upon without desire, pass by, and be content without.  There is nobody, I think, so senseless as to deny that there is pleasure in knowledge:  and for the pleasures of sense, they have too many followers to let it be questioned whether men are taken with them or no.  Now, let one man place his satisfaction in sensual pleasures, another in the delight of knowledge:  though each of them cannot but confess, there is great pleasure in what the other pursues; yet, neither of them making the other’s delight a part of his happiness, their desires are not moved, but each is satisfied without what the other enjoys; and so his will is not determined to the pursuit of it.  But yet, as soon as the studious man’s hunger and thirst make him uneasy, he, whose will was never determined to any pursuit of good cheer, poignant sauces, delicious wine, by the pleasant taste he has found in them, is, by the uneasiness of hunger and thirst, presently determined to eating and drinking, though possibly with great indifferency, what wholesome food comes in his way.  And, on the other side, the epicure buckles to study, when shame, or the desire to recommend himself to his mistress, shall make him uneasy in the want of any sort of knowledge.  Thus, how much soever men are in earnest and constant in pursuit of happiness, yet they may have a clear view of good, great and confessed good, without being concerned for it, or moved by it, if they think they can make up their happiness without it.  Though as to pain, that they are always concerned for; they can feel no uneasiness without being moved.  And therefore, being uneasy in the want of whatever is judged necessary to their happiness, as soon as any good appears to make a part of their portion of happiness, they begin to desire it.

45.  Why the greatest Good is not always desired.`

This, I think, any one may observe in himself and others,—­That the greater visible good does not always raise men’s desires in proportion to the greatness it appears, and is acknowledged, to have:  though every little trouble moves us, and sets us on work to get rid of it.  The reason whereof is evident from the nature of our happiness and misery itself.  All present pain, whatever it be, makes a part of our present misery:  but all absent good does not at any time make a necessary part of our present happiness, nor the absence of it make a part of our misery.  If it did, we should be constantly and infinitely miserable; there being infinite degrees of happiness which are not in our possession.  All uneasiness therefore being removed, a moderate portion of good serve at present to content men; and a few degrees of pleasure in a succession of ordinary enjoyments, make up a happiness wherein they can be satisfied.  If this were not so, there could be no room for those indifferent and visibly trifling actions, to which our wills are so often determined, and wherein we voluntarily waste so much