in a few years, and even at its first setting out, have made fo confiderable a progrefs, and which will be ftill receiving an increafe of perfection, and confequently an increase of happiness! The consciousness of fuch a being spreads a perpetual diffufion of joy through the foul of a virtuous man, and makes him look upon himself every moment as more happy than he knows how to conceive,

The fecond fource of chearfulness to a good mind is, its confideration of that Being on whom we have our dependence, and in whom, though we behold him as yet but in the first faint difcoveries of his perfections, we see every thing that we can imagine as great, glorious, or amiable, We find ourselves every where upheld by his goodness, and furrounded with an immensity of love and mercy. In short, we depend upon a Being, whofe power qualifies him to make us happy by an infinity of means, whofe goodness and truth engage him to make those happy who defire it of him, and whofe unchangeableness ⚫ will fecure us in this happiness to all eternity.

Such confiderations, which every one fhould perpetually cherish in his thoughts, will banish from us all that secret heaviness of heart which unthinking men are fubject to when they lie under no real affliction, all that anguifh which we may feel from any evil that actually oppreffes us, to which may likewise add those little cracklings of mirth and folly, that are apter to betray virtue than fupport it; and establish in us fuch an even and chearful temper, as makes us pleafing to ourselves, to those with whom we converse, and to him whom we are made to please. Spectator.

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§ 21. On the Advantages of a chearful Temper.

Chearfulness is, in the firft place, the beft promoter of health. Repinings and fecret murmurs of heart give imperceptible ftrokes to thofe delicate fibres of which the vital parts are compofed, and wear out the machine infenfibly; not to mention thofe violent ferments which they ftir up in the blood, and thofe irregular disturbed motions, which they raife in the animal fpirits. I fcarce remember, in my own obfervation, to have met with many old men, or with fuch, who (to ufe our English phrafe) wear well, that had not at least a certain indolence in their humour, if not

a more than ordinary gaiety and chearful nefs of heart. The truth of it is, health and chearfulness mutually beget each other; with this difference, that we feldom meet with a great degree of health which is not attended with a certain chearfulness, but very often fee chearfulness where there is no great degree of health.

Chearfulness bears the fame friendly regard to the mind as to the body: it banishes all anxious care and difcontent, foothes and compofes the paffions, and keeps the foul in a perpetual calm. But having already touched on this last confìderation, I fhall here take notice, that the world in which we are placed, is filled with innumerable objects that are proper to raise and keep alive this happy temper

of mind.

If we confider the world in its fubferviency to man, one would think it was made for our ufe; but if we confider it in its natural beauty and harmony, one would be apt to conclude it was made for our pleasure. The fun, which is as the great foul of the universe, and produces all the neceffaries of life, has a particular influence in chearing the mind of man, and making the heart glad.

Thofe feveral living creatures which are made for our fervice or fuftenance, at the fame time either fill the woods with their mufic, furnifh us with game, or raife pleafing ideas in us by the delightfulness of their appearance. Fountains, lakes, and rivers, are as refreshing to the imagina tion, as to the foil through which they pafs.

There are writers of great diftinction, who have made it an argument for Providence, that the whole earth is covered with green, rather than with any other colour, as being fuch a right mixture of light and fhade, that it comforts and ftrengthens the eye inftead of weakening or grieving it. For this reafon, feveral painters have a green cloth hanging near them, to eafe the eye upon, after too great an application to their colouring. A famous modern philofopher accounts for it in the following manner: All colours that are more luminous, overpower and diffipate the animal spirits which are employed in fight; on the contrary, thofe that are more obfcure do not give the animal spirits a fufficient exercife; whereas, the rays that produce in us the idea of green, fall upon the eye in fuch a due proportion,

that

that they give the animal spirits their proper play, and, by keeping up the struggle in a juft balance, excite a very pleafing and agreeable fenfation. Let the caufe be what it will, the effect is certain; for which reason, the poets afcribe to this particular colour the epithet of chearful.

To confider further this double end in the works of nature, and how they are, at the fame time, both useful and entertaining, we find that the most important parts in the vegetable world are thofe which are the most beautiful. These are the feeds by which the several races of plants are propagated and continued, and which are always lodged in flowers or bloffoms. Nature feems to hide her principal defign, and to be industrious in making the earth gay and delightful, while fhe is carrying on her great work, and intent upon her own prefervation. The husbandman, after the fame manner, is employed in laying out the whole country into a kind of garden or landskip, and making every thing smile about him, whilft, in reality, he thinks of nothing but of the harveft, and increase which is to arise from it.

We may further obferve how Providence has taken care to keep up this chearfulness in the mind of man, by having formed it after fuch a manner, as to make it capable of conceiving delight from feveral objects which feem to have very little ufe in them; as from the wildness of rocks and deferts, and the like grotefque parts of nature. Those who are verfed in philofophy may ftill carry this confideration higher, by obferving, that if matter had appeared to us endowed only with thofe real qualities which it actually poffeffes, it would have made but a very joylefs and uncomfortable figure; and why has Providence given it a power of producing in us fuch imaginary qualities, as taftes and colours, founds and fmells, heat and cold, but that man, while he is converfant in the lower stations of nature, might have his mind cheared and delighted with agreeable fenfations? In fhort, the whole univerfe is a kind of theatre filled with objects that either raife in us pleasure, amufement, or admiration.

The reader's own thoughts will fuggeft to him the viciffitude of day and night, the change of feafons, with all that variety of fcenes which diverfify the face of nature, and fill the mind with a perpetual fucceffion of beautiful and pleafing images.

I fhall not here mention the feveral en

tertainments of art, with the pleafures of friendship, books, converfation, and other accidental diverfions of life, because I would only take notice of fuch incitements to a chearful temper, as offer themselves to perfons of all ranks and conditions, and which may fufficiently fhew us, that Providence did not defign this world should be filled with murmurs and repinings, or that the heart of man fhould be involved in gloom and melancholy.

I the more inculcate this chearfulness of temper, as it is a virtue in which our countrymen are observed to be more deficient than any other nation. Melancholy is a kind of demon that haunts our island, and often conveys herself to us in an eafterly wind. A celebrated French novelist, in oppofition to those who begin their romances with a flowery feafon of the year, enters on his story thus: In the gloomy • month of November, when the people of England hang and drown themselves, a • difconfolate lover walked out into the fields,' &c.

Every one ought to fence against the temper of his climate or conftitution, and frequently to indulge in himself those confiderations which may give him a ferenity of mind, and enable him to bear up chearfully against thofe little evils and misfortunes which are common to human mature, and which, by a right improvement of them, will produce a fatiety of joy, and an unin terrupted happiness.

At the fame time that I would engage my reader to confider the world in its most agreeable lights, I muft own there are many evils which naturally fpring up amidst the entertainments that are provided for us; but thefe, if rightly confidered, fhould be far from overcafting the mind with forrow, or destroying that chearfulness of temper which I have been recommending. This interfperfion of evil with good, and pain with pleafure, in the works of nature, is very truly afcribed by Mr. Locke, in his Effay upon Human Understanding, to a moral reafon, in the following words:

Beyond all this, we may find another reason why God hath scattered up and down feveral degrees of pleasure and pain, in all the things that environ and affect us, and blended them together, in almost all that our thoughts and fenfes have to do with; that we, finding imperfection, diffatisfaction, and want of complete happiness in all the enjoyments which the creatures can afford us, might

§ 22. On Truth and Sincerity. Truth and reality have all the advantages of appearance, and many more. If the fhew of any thing be good for any thing, I am fure fincerity is better: for why does any man diffemble, or feem to be that which he is not, but because he thinks it good to have fuch a quality as he pretends to? for to counterfeit and diffemble, is to put on the appearance of some real excellency. Now the best way in the world for a man to feem to be any thing, is really to be what we would feem to be. Befides, that it is many times as troublesome to make good the pretence of a good quality, as to have it; and if a man have it not, it is ten to one but he is difcovered to want it, and then all his pains and labour to seem to have it is loft. There is fomething unnatural in painting, which a skilful eye will easily discern from native beauty and complexion.

It is hard to perfonate and act a part long; for where truth is not at the bottom, nature will always be endeavouring to return, and will peep out and betray herself one time or other. Therefore, if any man think it convenient to feem good, let him be fo indeed, and then his goodnefs will appear to every body's fatisfaction; fo that, upon all accounts, fincerity is true wifdom. Particularly as to the affairs of this world, integrity hath many advantages over all the fine and artificial ways of diffimulation and deceit; it is much the plainer and eafier, much the fafer and more fecure way of dealing in the world; it has lefs of trouble and difficulty, of entanglement and perplexity, of danger and hazard in it; it is the fhorteft and nearest way to our end, carrying us thither in a ftrait line, and will hold out and last longeft. The arts of deceit and cunning do continually grow weaker and less effectual and ferviceable to them that use them; whereas integrity gains ftrength by ufe; and the more and longer any man practi feth it, the greater fervice it does him, by confirming his reputation, and encouraging thofe with whom he hath to do to repofe the greatest trust and confidence in him, which is an unspeakable advantage in the bufinefs and affairs of life.

Truth is always confiftent with itself,

and needs nothing to help it out; it is always near at hand, and fits upon our lips, and is ready to drop out before we are aware; whereas a lie is troublesome, and fets a man's invention upon the rack, and one trick needs a great many more to make it good. It is like building upon a false foundation, which continually stands in need of props to fhore it up, and proves at last more chargeable than to have raised a fubftantial building at firft upon a true and folid foundation; for fincerity is firm and fubftantial, and there is nothing hollow or unfound in it, and because it is plain and open, fears no discovery; of which the crafty man is always in danger, and when he thinks he walks in the dark, all his pretences are so transparent, that he that runs may read them; he is the laft man that finds himself to be found out, and whilft he takes it for granted that he makes fools of others, he renders himself ridiculous.

In

Add to all this, that fincerity is the most compendious wisdom, and an excellent inftrument for the speedy dispatch of bufinefs; it creates confidence in those we have to deal with, faves the labour of many inquiries, and brings things to an issue in few words; it is like travelling in a plain beaten road, which commonly brings a man fooner to his journey's end than bye-ways, in which men often lofe themselves. a word, whatsoever convenience may be thought to be in falfhood and diffimulation, it is foon over; but, the inconvenience of it is perpetual, because it brings a man under an everlafting jealoufy and fufpicion, fo that he is not believed when he speaks truth, nor trufted perhaps when he means honeftly. When a man has once forfeited the reputation of his integrity, he is fet faft, and nothing will then ferve his turn, neither truth nor falfhood.

And I have often thought that God hath, in his great wisdom, hid from men of false and dishoneft minds the wonderful advantages of truth and integrity to the profperity even of our worldly affairs; thefe men are fo blinded by their covetousness and ambition, that they cannot look beyond a prefent advantage, nor forbear to feize upon it, though by ways never fo indirect; they cannot fee fo far as to the remote confequences of a fteady integrity, and the vaft benefit and advantages which it will bring a man at laft. Were but this fort of men wife and clear-fighted enough to difcern this, they would be honest out of very knavery, not out of any love to

honesty

Spectator.

§ 23. Rules for the Knowledge of One's Self.

Hypocrify, at the fashionable end of the town, is very different from that in the city. The modifh hypocrite endeavours to appear more vicious than he really is; the other kind of hypocrite more virtuous. The former is afraid of every thing that has the fhew of religion in it, and would be thought engaged in many criminal gallantries and amours, which he is not guilty of; the latter affumes a face of fanctity, and covers a multitude of vices under a feeming religious deportment.

But there is another kind of hypocrify, which differs from both these, and which I intend to make the fubject of this paper: I mean that hypocrify, by which a man does not only deceive the world, but very often impofes on himself; that hypocrify which conceals his own heart from him, and makes him believe he is more virtuous than he really is, and either not attend to his vices, or mistake even his vices for virtues. It is this fatal hypocrify and felfdeceit, which is taken notice of in thefe words, Who can understand his errors? ⚫ cleanse thou me from my fecret faults.'

If the open profeffors of impiety deferve the utmost application and endeavours of moral writers, to recover them from vice and folly, how much more may thofe lay

a claim to their care and compaffion, who are walking in the paths of death, while they fancy themfelves engaged in a courfe of virtue! I fhall therefore endeavour to lay down fome rules for the difcovery of thofe vices that lurk in the fecret corners of the foul; and to fhew my reader thole methods, by which he may arrive at a true and impartial knowledge of himself. The ufual means prefcribed for this purpofe, are to examine ourselves by the rules which are laid down for our direction in facred writ, and to compare our lives with the life of that perfon who acted up to the perfection of human nature, and is the ftanding example, as well as the great guide and inftru&tor, of those who receive his doctrines. Though these two heads cannot be too much infifted upon, I fhall but just mention them, fince they have been handled by many great and eminent writers.

I would therefore propofe the following methods to the confideration of such as would find out their fecret faults, and make a true estimate of themselves.

In the first place, let them confider well, what are the characters which they bear among their enemies. Our friends very often flatter us as much as our own hearts. They either do not fee our faults, or conceal them from us, or foften them by their reprefentations, after fuch a manner, that we think them too trivial to be taken notice of. An adverfary, on the contrary, makes a ftricter fearch into us, difcovers every flaw and imperfection in our tempers; and, though his malice may fet them in too ftrong a light, it has generally fome ground for what it advances. A friend exaggerates a man's virtues, an enemy inflames his crimes. A wife man fhould give a juft attention to both of them, fo far as they may tend to the improvement of the one, and the diminution of the other. Plutarch has written an effay on the benefits which a man may receive from his enemies; and among the good fruits of enmity, mentions this in particular, "that, by the reproaches which it cafts upon us, we fee the worst fide of ourselves, and open our eyes to feveral blemishes and defects in our lives and converfations, which we fhould not have obferved without the help of fuch ill-natured monitors."

the world bestow upon us; whether the actions they celebrate proceed from laudable and worthy motives; and how far we are really poffeffed of the virtues, which gain us applaufe among thofe with whom we converfe. Such a reflection is abfolutely neceffary, if we confider how apt we are either to value or condemn ourselves by the opinion of others, and to facrifice the report of our own hearts to the judgment of the world.

In the next place, that we may not deceive ourselves in a point of fo much importance, we should not lay too great a ftrefs on any fuppofed virtues we poffefs, that are of a doubtful nature and fuch we may efteem all thofe in which multitudes of men diffent from us, who are as good and wife as ourselves. We should always act with great cautiousness and circumfpection, in points where it is not impoffible that we may be deceived. Intemperate zeal, bigotry, and perfecution, for any party or opinion, how praife-worthy foever they may appear to weak men of our own principles, produce infinite calamities among mankind, and are highly criminal in their own nature; and yet how many perfons, eminent for piety, fuffer fuch monftrous and abfurd principles of action to take root in their minds under the colour of virtues? For my own part, I must own, I never yet knew any party fo juft and reasonable, that a man could follow it in its height and violence, and at the fame time be innocent.

We fhould likewife be very apprehenfive of those actions, which proceed from natural conftitution, favourite paffions, particular education, or whatever promotes our worldly intereft or advantage. In thefe or the like cafes, a man's judgment is eafily perverted, and a wrong bias hung upon his mind. These are the inlets of prejudice, the unguarded avenues of the mind, by which a thousand errors and fecret faults find admifion, without being obferved or taken notice of. A wife man will fufpect thofe actions to which he is directed by fomething befides reafon, and always apprehend fome concealed evil in every refolution that is of a difputable nature, when it is conformable to his particular temper, his age, or way of life, or when it favours his pleasure or his profit.

There is nothing of greater importance to us, than thus diligently to fift our thoughts, and examine all thefe dark recefes of the mind, if we would establish

§ 24. No Life pleafing to God, but that avhich is ufeful to Mankind. An Eaftern Story.

It pleafed our mighty fovereign Abbas Carafcan, from whom the kings of the earth derive honour and dominion, to fet Mirza his fervant over the province of Tauris. In the hand of Mirza, the balance of diftribution was fufpended with impartiality; and under his administration the weak were protected, the learned received honour, and the diligent became rich: Mirza, therefore, was beheld by every eye with complacency, and every tongue pronounced bleffings upon his head. But it was obferved that he derived no joy from the benefits which he diffused; he became penfive and melancholy; he spent his leifure in folitude; in his palace he fat motionless upon a fofa; and when he went out, his walk was flow, and his eyes were fixed upon the ground: he applied to the bufinefs of ftate with reluctance; and refolved to relinquish the toil of government,. of which he could no longer enjoy the re-. ward.

He, therefore, obtained permiffion to approach the throne of our fovereign; and being asked what was his request, he made. this reply: "May the Lord of the world

forgive the flave whom he has honour-. "ed, if Mirza prefume again to lay the bounty of Abbas at his feet. Thou haft