by detraction and calumny, soothing and flattering people) to be below thee, and unworthy of thee; thou thinkest thyself obliged, and art peremptorily resolved to observe strict rules of justice, of humanity, of charity, to speak as thou meanest, to do as thou wouldest be done to, to wrong no man anywise, to consider and tender the case of other men as thine own: thy designs are honest and moderate, conducible to (or at least consistent with) the public good, injurious or hurtful to no man; thou carriest on thy designs by fair ways, by a modest care and harmless diligence; nor canst be drawn to use any other, how seemingly needful soever, which do savor of fraud, violence, any sort of wrong or baseness: thou hast an honest pride and haughtiness of mind, which will not let thee condescend to use those sly tricks, crooked ways and shifts, which commonly are the compendious and most effectual ways of accomplishing designs here thou art, in fine, (like Helvidius Priscus,) in thy dealings and proceedings, pervicax recti, wilfully and peevishly honest: such an one perhaps thou art, and such is thy way; and canst thou hope to be any body, or get anything here? shall such a superstitious fop, such a conscientious simpleton, such a bashful sneaksby, so fantastic a philosopher pretend to any thing here? No: thou art here piscis in arido, quite out of thy element; this world is not for thee to thrive in.

This world is for worldlings to possess and enjoy: it was, say the Rabbins, made for the presumptuous; and although God did not altogether design it for them, yet men have almost made it so they are best qualified to thrive in it, who can lustily bustle and scramble; who can fiercely swagger and huff; who can fawn; who can wind and wriggle like a serpent; who can finely cog and gloze; who can neatly shuffle and juggle; who can shrewdly overreach and undermine others; those slippery wily artists, who can veer any whither with any wind; those men of impregnable confidence, who can insist on any pretences; who can be indefatigably and irresistibly urgent, nor will be repulsed or baffled by any means; those who have a temper so lax and supple, that they can bend it to any compliance advantageous to them; who have a spirit so limber, that they can stretch it any whither; who have face enough, and conscience little enough to do any thing; who have no

certain principles, but such as will sort with their interests; no rules but such Lesbian and leaden ones, that easily may be accommodated to their purposes; whose designs all tend to their own private advantage, without any regard to the public, or to the good of others; who can use any means conducible to such designs, boggling at nothing which serveth their purpose; not caring what they say, be it true or false; what they do, be it right or wrong, so it seem profitable: this is called wisdom, prudence, dexterity, ability, knowlege of men and of the world, and I know not what beside; in the Scripture, the wisdom of the world, and of the flesh, craft, guile, deceit, κυβεία, &c. For such persons it is to flourish in this world: • Behold, these,' saith the psalmist, are the ungodly, who prosper in the world, and who increase in riches; they are not in trouble as other men, neither are they plagued like other men; their eyes stand out with fatness, they have more than heart could wish:' they it is who love the world, who seek it, who study and labor for it, who spend all their time, and employ all their care about it; and is it not fit they should have it? Is it not a pity they should miss it? Is it not natural that they who sow to the flesh, should reap from the flesh?' Should not they who use the proper means obtain the end? Should not they arrive at the place, who proceed in the direct road thither?

But for thee, who canst not find in thy heart to use the means, why dost thou hope to compass the end, or grieve for not attaining it? Why dost thou blend and jumble such inconsistencies together, as the eager desires of this, and the hopes of another world? It becometh not such a gallant to whine and pule. If thou wilt be brave, be brave indeed; singly and thoroughly; be not a double-hearted mongrel; think not of satisfying thy mind, and driving on other interests together; of enjoying the conceit of being an honest man, with the design of being a rich or great man; of arriving to the happiness of the other world, and attaining prosperity in this. Wouldest thou enjoy both these? what conscience is there in that? Leave rather this world unto those who are more fit for it, who seem better to deserve it, who venture so much, and take such pains for it; do not go to rob them of this slender reward, but with

BAR.

VOL. III.

D

content see them to enjoy the fruits of their labor and hazard: be thou satisfied with the consequences of thy virtuous resolutions and proceedings: if it be worth thy while to live innocently, modestly, and conscientiously, do it, and be satisfied; spoil not thine expectations by repining at the want of those things, which thy circumstances render incompatible with them : follow effectually the holy patriarchs and Apostles, who without regret forsook all, and cheerfully went thither, whither conscience and duty called them: if thou art not willing to do so, why dost thou pretend to the same principles, or hope for the like rewards? But, leaving the consideration of the world as man hath made it, consider that this world is not, in its nature or design, a place of perfect ease and convenience, of pure delight and satisfaction. What is this world but a region of tumult and trouble; a theatre of vanity and disasters; the kingdom of care, of fear, of grief and pain; of satiety, of disappointment, of regret and repentance? we came not hither to do our will, or enjoy our pleasure; we are not born to make laws for ourselves, or to pick our condition here: no, this world is a place of banishment from our first country, and the original felicity we were designed to; this life is a state of travel toward another better country, and seat of rest; and well it is in such cases, (well it is, I say, for us, as exiles and travellers,) if we can find any tolerable accommodation, if we can make any hard shift: it should not be strange to us, if in this our peregrination we do meet with rough passages, foul ways, hard lodging, scant or coarse fare; if we complain of such things, we do not surely consider where we are, whence we came, whither we are going; we forget that we are the sons of Adam, the heirs of sin and sorrow, who have forfeited our rest and joy on earth; we consider not how unavoidable the effects are of that fatal condemnation and curse which followed our first transgression; we mind not that the perfection and purity of the blessings we have lost is not to be found on this side the celestial paradise. This world is purposely made somewhat unpleasant to us, lest we should overmuch delight in it, be unwilling to part with it, wish to set up our rest here, and say, Bonum est esse hic, ' It is good for us to be here.'

This life is a state of probation and exercise, like to that

(which prefigured and represented it) of God's people in the wilderness, wherein God leadeth us through many difficulties and hazards, in many wants and hardships, to humble and prove us,' in order to the fitting us for another more happy

state.

No temptation therefore (or affliction) can seize on us, but such as is human ;' that is, such as is natural and proper to men: it is the consideration which St. Paul useth, to comfort and support us in troubles; and a plainly good one it is for seeing man, as Eliphaz saith, is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward;' that nothing is more natural to any thing than trouble is to us; if we are displeased therewith, we are in effect displeased that we are men; it implieth that we gladly would put off our nature, and cease to be ourselves; we grieve that we are come to live in this world; and as well might we be vexed that we are not angels, or that we are not yet in heaven, which is the only place exempt from inconveniences and troubles, where alone there is no sorrow, no clamor, no pain.'

It hath always been, and it will ever be, an universal complaint and lamentation, that the life of man and trouble are individual companions, continually and closely sticking one to the other; that life and misery are but several names of the same thing; that our state here is nothing else but a combination of various evils, (made up of cares, of labors, of dangers, of disappointments, of discords, of disquiets, of diseases, of manifold pains and sorrows;) that all ages, from wailing infancy to querulous decrepitness, and all conditions, from the careful sceptre to the painful spade, are fraught with many great inconveniences peculiar to each of them; that all the face of the earth is overspread with mischiefs as with a general and perpetual deluge; that nothing perfectly sound, nothing safe, nothing stable, nothing serene is here to be found this with one sad voice all mankind resoundeth; this our poets are ever moanfully singing, this our philosophers do gravely inculcate; this the experience of all times loudly proclaimeth: for what are all histories but continual registers of the evils incident to men? what do they all describe, but wars and slaughters, mutinies and seditions, tumults and confusions, devastations and ruins? What do they tell us, but of men furiously striving together, circum

venting, spoiling, destroying one other? what do we daily hear reported, but cruel broils, bloody battles, and tragical events; great numbers of men slain, wounded, hurried into captivity; cities sacked and rased, countries harassed and depopulated, kingdoms and commonwealths overturned? what do we see before us but men carking, toiling, bickering; some worn out with labor, some pining away for want, some groaning under pain? And amidst so many common miseries and misfortunes, in so generally confused and dismal a state of things, is it not ridiculously absurd for us, doth it not argue in us a prodigious fondness of self-love, heinously to resent, or impatiently to bemoan our particular and private crosses? May not reasonably that expostulation of Jeremy to Baruch reach us? The Lord saith thus, Behold, that which I have built I will break down; and that which I have planted I will pluck up, even this whole land. And seekest thou great things for thyself? seek them not; for behold I will bring evil on all flesh.'

4. Again, if we more closely and particularly survey the states of other men, (of our brethren everywhere, of our neighbors all about us,) and compare our case with theirs, our condition hardly can appear to us so bad but that we have many consorts and associates therein; many as ill, many far worse bestead than ourselves. How many of our brethren in the world may we observe conflicting with extreme penury and distress; how many undergoing continual hard drudgeries to maintain their lives; how many sorely pinched with hunger and cold; how many tortured with grievous sickness; how many oppressed with debt; how many shut up under close restraint; how many detained in horrible slavery; how many by the wasting rage of war rifled of their goods, driven from their homes, dispossessed of all comfortable subsistence? How many, in fine, passing their lives in all the inconveniences of rude, beggarly, sordid, and savage barbarism? And who of us have, in any measure, tasted of these, or of the like calamities? Yet are these sufferers, all of them, the same in nature with us; many of them (as reason, as humility, as charity do oblige us to believe) deserve as well, divers of them much better than ourselves: what reason then can we have to conceive our case so hard, or to complain thereof? Were we the only persons exposed to trou