(Book III. dew-drop on the grafs. Is it inherent in the structure of the human frame? No:-Strip off the scarf-skin to the thickness of a fish's fcale; and the charming fair grows hideous to behold. A fudden fright alarms her; a fit of fickness attacks her; the rofes fly from her cheeks; her eyes lofe their fire; fhe looks haggard, pale, and ghaftly. Even in all the blooming pride of beauty, what is the human frame? A mass of corruption, and disease covered over with a fair skin. When the animating fpirit flies, and leaves the lovely tabernacle behind, how foon does horror fucceed to admiration! How do we haften to hide out of fight the loathfome remains of beauty! Open the charnel-house in which, a very little while ago, the celebrated toaft was laid. Who can now bear to look on that face, fhrivelled, and black, and loathfome, which used to be the delight of every youthful gazer? Who could now touch, with one finger, her, whofe very fteps the enamoured youth would have kiffed? Can the lover himself go near, without ftopping his nofe at her, who used to breathe all the perfumes of the fpring? If beauty is a fubje& for boafting, what is matter of mortification?

The accomplishments of the mind are likewife two, knowledge and virtue. Is there any reason to be proud of the poor attainments we can in the present state gain in knowledge, of which the perfection is, To know our own weakness? Is that an accomplishment to be boafted of, which a blow on the head, or a week's illness will deftroy? As to our attainments in virtue, or religion, to be proud on thofe accounts, would be to be proud of what we did not poffefs: for pride would annihilate all our virtues, and render our religion vain. If our virtue and religion be not founded in humility, they are falfe and fophifticate; confequently of no value. And who would be proud of what is of no value?

The pride of riches is yet more monftrous than any of the others. To turn the good gift of Providence into vanity and wantonnefs; to value one's felf upon what is altogether foreign and accidental, and makes no part of merit, as not being the inherent qualification either of body or mind, nor any way valuable or honourable

honourable, but according as we use it: What can be conceived more remote from common fenfe, unless we reflect on the folly of those who take occafion to value themselves on their birth, and are proud that they can trace back a great many fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers, whofe virtues and vices belongedwholly to themfelves, and are gone with them? It is amazing to think how poor a pretence is thought fufficient to fupport human folly. The family of the cottager is as ancient as that of the lord of the manor, if it could be traced. And in every family there have been fcoundrels, as well as heroes, and more of the former than the latter.

As pride was the introduction to all the evil that we know of in the moral world, fo humility is the only foundation, upon which the ftructure of virtue can be raifed. A fubmiffive, tractable temper is alone capable of being formed to obedience. A mind puffed up with felf-opinion, cannot bring itself to liften to advice, or to yield to juft authority. The wife man endeavours to attain fuch a knowledge of himself, that he may neither, on one hand, act a part unworthy of himself, nor, on the other, forget his prefent humble station, and presume on any thought or action unfuitable to it.

Before we can hope to go any great length in the due regulation of our paffions or inclinations, we muft refolve carefully to ftudy, and thoroughly to mafter, that moft ufeful of all fciences, felf-knowledge.

It is not in fchools, in univerfities, or in the voluminous works of the learned, that we muft fearch for this moft important branch of knowledge. He, who would know himself, muft fearch carefully his own heart, muft ftudy diligently his own character. He mult above all things ftudy the peculiar weakneffes of his nature. In order to find out thefe, he ought to recollect often what particular follies have moft frequently drawn him into difficulties and diftreffes. If he finds, that he has been often engaged in quarrels, and difputes, he may conclude, that the paffion of anger is too powerful in him, and wants to be brought under fubjection. If he recollects various inftances of his behaving in a

lewd

lewd, an intemperate, an envious, or a malicious manner, and that he has often had occafion to blame himfelf for a behaviour which has brought upon him the reflections of the fober and regular part of people; it is evident, where the fault lies, and what is to be corrected. But confcience, and the facred rule of life contained in holy fcripture, are more certain tefts by which to try one's character, than the general opinion of mankind.

Nothing is more common, than for a perfon's weaknefs to be known to every body but himself. Let a man therefore fet his own conduct at a distance from himself, and view it with the fame eye as he may fuppose a stranger regards it; or with the fame as he himfelf views that of another perfon. Let one endeavour to find out fome perfon, whose behaviour and character comes the nearest to his own; and in that view himself as in a mirror. And as there is generally fome refemblance between the characters of thofe, who keep up a long friendship, a man may, generally fpeaking, fee his own likeness in that of his friend.

It will be of great confequence to you to know what character is drawn of you by your enemy, especially if you find feveral agree in the fame. Enemies will help you, more than friends, in difcovering your faults; for they will aggravate what your friends will leffen.

Attend carefully to the general train of your thoughts. Obferve what fubjects rife ofteneft, and abide longest in your mind, and what you dwell upon with the greatest delight. You will by that find out what paffion, or appetite, has the afcendant, and ought to be fubdued. It is from the fulness of the heart that the mouth fpeaks. And from a man's eager manner of talking on certain favourite fubjects, every one, who fpends an hour in his company, finds out his prevailing paffion, while he himself perhaps is, all his life, wholly ignorant of it. Laftly, whoever means in earneft to come at the true knowledge of his own weakneffes, let him liften, with the most facred attention, to every motion of confcience. There is more meaning in her fofteft whifper, than in the loudeft applaufe of the unthinking multitude.

Ano

Another direction of the utmoft confequence to our fetting about the due regulation of our paffions, and indeed to our behaving in general in a manner suitable to the true dignity of our nature, is, That we reverence ourselves.

The effect, which a juft and habitual fenfe of the grandeur and importance of our nature, and the high elevation we are formed capable of, would have upon us, is, To infpire us with fentiments worthy of ourfelves, and fuitable to the gracious defigns of the Author of our being. This is very confiftent with that humility which becomes us fo well in our prefent condition. Humility is commendable: Bafenefs odious. Did men habitually confider themselves as formed for immortality, they would not fo generally fet their whole hearts upon the prefent life. Did they conftantly keep in mind their heavenly Original, and the end of their creation, they could not thus fink their very fouls into earth.

Did

they often reflect upon the worth of immortal minds, they would not think of fatisfying them with the grofs and fordid objects of fenfe. Did they confider themfelves as intended for companions of angels and archangels, they would not, by indulging carnal appetite, debase themselves to the level of the brutes. Did they duly reverence themselves as beings formed for the contemplation and fruition of infinite Perfection, they would think it beneath them to place their happiness in the enjoyment of any thing created.

One general rule carefully attended to, and the judgment of our own confciences according to it faithfully followed, would make the whole conduct of the paffions and appetites clear, and would prevent our falling into any error in indulging or fuppreffing them. The rule is, To confider what good purpofe is to be gained by the exertion of every active power of the mind; and to take care, that in the conduct of every paffion and appetite, we have that end fingly, and nothing else in view.

I will therefore proceed to fhew, in a particular manner, how this rule is to be applied in the regulation of

thofe

thofe of our paffions and appetites, which have important effects upon our moral characters.

That motion of the mind, which we call Love, or Defire, tends naturally to draw and engage us to whatever is either in its own nature truly amiable and excellent, or which our prefent ftate renders it neceffary that the fhould be engaged to. There is no danger of our loving God, or virtue, or defiring our own real happiness too much. For thefe are proper and worthy objects of the best affections of every rational being throughout the whole of its existence. The inclination we find in ourselves toward fuch objects, is the pure effect of our having clear and rational apprehenfions of their real, internal excellence; not of any factitious or arbitrary tafte implanted in our minds, or any arbitrary fitnefs in fuch objects to gain our affections. No rational unprejudiced mind in the universe ever had, or can have, juft apprehenfions of the Divine perfections, and of the excellence of virtue, that has not admired and loved them. And the clearer the apprehenfions, the fronger must be the affection.

To mix and confound together all the motions of the mind, and to range them all indifcriminately under one head, is reducing the whole philofophy of Human Nature to a mere jumble. Hunger or thirft, for example, are no more to be confidered under the head of felflove, than anatomy under that of aftronomy. The pure difinterefted love of virtue is no more to be called a factitious or arbitrary inclination, as the mutual defires of the fexes undoubtedly is, than gravitation is to be called folidity or extenfion. The bodily appetites, improperly fo called, are plainly factitious and temporary: for we can conceive of a living, conscious, rational being, who has not fo much as an idea of them; nay, the time will come, when they will be wholly forgot by at leaft Jome of our own fpecies. But is it poffible to conceive of a living, confcious, rational being, who, if left to itself free and uncorrupted, fhould be able to avoid loving virtue, or could be indifferent to goodness, as foon as it became an object of its perception? Again, the fitnefs between the appetite and the object is in fome

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