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Darkness and light divide the course of time, and oblivion shares with memory a great part even of our living beings; we slightly remember our felicities, and the smartest strokes of allliction leave but short smart upou vis. Sense endureth no extremitis, and sorrows destroy is or themselves. To weep into stones are fables. Afflictions induce callosities; miseries are slippery, or fall like show upon us, which, potwithstauding. is no unhappy stupidity. To be ignorant of evils to come, and forgetful of evils past, is a merciful provision in nature, whereby we digest the mixture of our few and evil days; and our delivered siinses not roasping into cutting remembrances, our sorrows are not kept ruw by the edge of repetitious. A great part of antiquity contented their hopes of subsistency, with a transmigration of their fouls- good way to continue th-ir memories, while, having the advantage of plural Foccersions, they couki not put act something remarkable in such variety of beings; aud, enjoying the faine of their parsed silves, make accumulation of glory unto their last durations. Oth-rs, rather than be lost in the uncomfortable night of pothing, were content tc r«cide into the common being and make one particle of the public sool of all things, which was no more than to return into their unknown and divine original again." Egyptian ing nuity was more unsatisfied, contriving their bodies in evest consistencies to attend the return of their souls. But all wus vanity, feeding the windl, and folly. The Egyptian inummies, which Cambyser or time huib spared, avarice pow conenneth. Mummy is become merelraudise; Mizraim cures wounds, and Pharaoh is sold for bulsams.
There is nothing strictly immortal bnt immortality. Whatever hath no beginning may be confident of no end, wbich is the peculiar of that necessary essence that cannot destroy itself. and the highest strain of omnipotency to be so powerfully constituted as not to suff-r even from the power of itself; all others have a dependent being. and within the reach of destruction. But the sufficiency of Christian immortality frustrates all earthly glory, and the quality of either state after death makes a folls of posthumous memory. God, who can only destroy our souls, and bath as: sured our resurrection, either of our bodies or names hath directly promised no duration; wherein there is so much of chance, that the boldest expectants have found unhappy frustration, and to hold long subsistence seems but u scape in oblivion, Bat man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes, and pompous in the grave, solemnisa ing nativities and deaths with equal lustre, nor omitting ceremonies of bruvery in the infamy of his nature.
Pyramids, arches, obelisks were but the Irregularities of vainglory, and wild enormities of ancient magnanimity. But the most magnanimous resolution reste in the Christian religion, which trampleth upon pride, and siis on the neck of ambition, buinbly pursuing that infallible perpetuity, unto which all others must diminish their diameters, and be poorly seen in angles of contingency.
Pious spirits, who passed their days in rapturcs of futurity, made little more of this world than the world that was before it, while they lay obscure in the chaos of pr-ordination and night of their fore-beings. And if any have been so happy as truly to understand Christian annibilation, ecstasles, exolution, liquefaction, transformation, the kiss of the sponse, gustation of God, and ingression into the divine shadow, they have already had a handsome anticipation of heaven; the glory of the world is snrely over, and the earth in ashes nito them,
To subsist in lasting monumenta, to live in their productions, to exist in their pamer, and predicament of chimeras, was large satisfaction unto old expectations, and made one part of their elysiums. But all this la nothing in the metaphysics of true belief. To live indeed is to be again ourselves, which being not only a hope but an evidence in noble believers, 'tis all one to lie in St. Innocent's churchyard, as in the pands of Egypt; ready to be anything in the ecstasy of being ever, and as content with six foot as the moles of Adrianus.
Light the Shadow of God. Light, that makes things seen, makes some thugs invisibl. Were it not for darkness, and the shadow of the earth, the noblest part of creation had reinained 1102641, and the stars in heaven as invisible as on the fourth day, when they were created above the horizon with the sun, and there was not an eye to behold them, The greatest mystery of religion is expressed by adumbration, and in the noblest part of Jewish types we fiud the cherubim shadowing the mercy-seat. Life itself is but the shadow of death, and soule departed but the shadows of the living. All things fall under this name. The sun itself is but the dark Simulachrum, and light but the shadow of God.
Study of God's Works. The world was made to be inhabited by beasts, but studied and contemplate by man; it is the debt of our reason we owi unto God, and the homage we pay for not being bearts; without this, the world is still as though it had not been, or as it was before the sixth day, when 18 yet there was not a creature that could conceive or say there was a world. The wisdom of God receives small honour from those vulgar heads that rudely stare about, and with a gross rusticity adinire his works; those highly inagnify him whose judicions inquiry into his uets, and deliberate research into his creatures, return the duty of a duvout and learned admiration.
Ghosts. I believe that the whole frame of a beast doth perish, and is left in the same state after death as before it was materialed into lif; that the souls of men know neither contrary or corruption; that they subsist beyond the body, and outlive death by tbe privilege of iheir proper natures, and without a miracle; that the souls of the faithful, is they leave earth, take possession of heaven; that those apparitions and ghosts of d'parted persons are not the wandering souls of men, but the unquiet walks of devi's, prompting and suggesting us unto mischief, blood, and villainy. instilling and stealing into our heart; that the blessed spirits are not at rest in their gruves, but wander aolícitous of the affairs of the world; but that those phantasms appear often, and do frequent cemeteries, charnel-houses, and churches, it is because those are the dormitories of the dead, where the devil, like an insoleut champion, beholds with pride the spoils and tropbies of his victory over Adam.
Of Myself For my life it is a miracle of thirty years, which to relaie were not a history, but a piece of poetry, and would round to commou ears like a fable. For the world, I count it not an inn, but an hospital, and a place not to live, but to die in. The world that I regard is inyself; it is the microcosm of my own frame that I can cast mine eye on--for the other, I use it but like my globe, and turn it round sometimes for me recreation. ... The earth is a point not only in respect of the heavens above us, but of that heavenly and celestial part within us. That mass of flesh that circumscribes me, liinits not my mind. That surface that tells the heavens it hath an end, cannot persuade me I have any. . . . Whilst I study to find how I am a microcosm, or little world, I find myself something more than the great. There is surely a piece of divinity in is-something that was before the heavens, and owes no homage unto the eun. Nature tells me I am the image of God, as well as Scripture. He that understands not thus much, hath not his introduction or tirst leeson, and hath yet to begin the alphabet of man.
Charity. But to return from philosophy to charity: I hold not so narrow a conceit of this virtue as to conceive that to give alms is only to be charitable, or think a piece of liberality can comprehend the total of charity. Divinity hath wisely divided ihe acts thereof into inany branches, and hath taught us in this narrow way many pathe unto goodness; as many ways as we may do good, so many ware we muv la charitabl: ; There are infirmities, not only of body, but of soul and fortunes, which do rcquire the merciful hand of our abilities. I cannot contemn a man for ignorance, bui behold him with as much pity ay I do Lazarus. It is no greater charity to clothe his body, than apparel the nakedness of his soul. It is on honourab'e objet to see the rencong of other men wear our liverice, and their borrowed understandings do horrar to the bounty of ours. It is the cheap st way of benefic nc, and, liko the natural charity of the sun, illuminates another withont obscuring its :1f. To be rirred and caititi in this part of goodness, is the sorslidest pisce of covetousness, and more contemptible than pecuniary avarice. To this, as calling my of a scholar. I am obliced by the duty of my condition: I make not, therefor, my head a grave, but i treasure of knowledge; I intend no monopoly, but a community in learning; I study not for my own sake ouly, but for theirs that study not for themselves. I envy no mau that knows more than myself, but pity them that know less. I instruct no man as : 1 exercise of my knowledge, or with an intent rather to nourish and keep it alive in inin: own head, than beget and propagate it in his; and in the midst of all my end avogrs, there is but one thought that dejects me, that my acquired parts must perish rith inyself. nor can be levacied ainong my honoured friends. I cannot f!! 011, or contemn a man for an error, or conceive why a difference in opinion should divide an affection; for controversies disputes, and argumentations, both in philos phy and in divinity, it they meet with discreet and peaceable natures, do not infri go the laws of charity
SIR MATTIIEW HALE. Sir MATTHEW HIALE (1609-1676) not only acquired some repeaa tion is a literary man, but is celebrated as one of the most upr ght judges that ever sat upon the English bench. Both in his studies gud in the exercise of his profession be displayed uncommon industry, which was fivoured by his acquaintance with Selden, who esteemned him so higbly as to appoint him bis executor. Hale was a judge both in the time of the Commonwealth and under Charles Il. ; he was appointeil Chief-baron of the Exchequer in 1660, and Lord Chiefjustice of the King's Bench eleven years afterwards. In the former capacity, one of his must notable and least creditable acts was the condemnation of some persons accused of witchcraft at Bury St. Edmunds in 1661. Amidst the immorality of Charles II.'s reign, Sir Malthew Hale stands out wiil: peculiar lustre as an impartial, incorruptible, and determined administrator of justice. His works are various, but relate chiefly w natural philosophy, divinity, and law. His religious opinions were Calvinistic; and his chief' theological work, entitled "Contemplations, Moral and Divine,' retains considerable popularity. As a specimen of his style, we present part of a letter of advice to his children, written abou: the year 1602.
On Conversation. DEAR CHILDREN-I thank God I came well to Farrington this day, about five o'rock. And as I bave some leisure time at my inn, I cannot spesid it more to my CW satistaction and your benetit, than, by a letter, to give you some good counsel. Th: subject chill concerning your speech; because much of the good or evil that h falls persons arises from the well or ill managing of their conversation. When I hav: leisure aud opportunity, I shall give you my directions on other ruljects.
Nver sprak anything for a truth which you know or believe to be fullse. Lying iş a great sin ayuivet God, who gave 118 a tongue to speak the truth, and not talsehool. It is a ut at offence against humanity itself ; for, where there is no revurd to truth, there can be no safe society between inan and man. And it is an injury to the spraker; for, besides the disgrace which it brings upon him. it occasions so much bisenes of mind, that he can scarcely tell truth, or avoid lying, even when he has no color of recessity for it; and, in time, he comes to much a pass, that as other people cuonot bicy.heep ake truth, so he hims f scarcely knows when he tells a fulsca hool. As you must be cartul not to lie, so you must avoid coming near it. You must not eqnivocite, nor epukanything positively for which you have no anthority but r port, or conjectur', or opinion.
B: not too earnest, loud, or violent in your conversation. Silence your opponent with reison. not with noise. Be careful not to interrupt another wh n bois fpinking; hear him ont, and you will understand him the better, and be able to give him th: batt’r answer. Consider before you speak, especially when the business is of momcut; weigh this s'use of what you mean to uiter, and the expressions you in
tend to use, that they may be significant, pertinent, and inoffensive. Inconsiderate persons do not think till they speak; or they speak, and then think.
Some men excel in husbandry, coine in gardening, some in mathematics. In conversation, learn, as near as you can, where the skill or excellence of any person lies; pnt tuim upon talking on that stbject, observe what he saya, keep it in your memory, or coinmit it to writing By this means you will glean the worih and knowleig of everybody you couverne wiih; and at an easy rate, acquire what may be of use to you on inany occasions.
When you are in company with light, vain, impertinent persons, let the observing of their failings make you the more cautious both in your couversation with them and in your general behaviour, that you may avoid their errors.
If a inan, whose integrity you do not very well know, makes yon great and extraordinary professions, do not give much credit to him. Probably, you will find that he aims at something bosides kindness to you, and that when he has served his turn, or been disappointed, his regard for you will grow cool.
B'ware also of him who Hatters you, and commends you to your face, or to one who, he thinks, will tell you of it; inost probably he has either deceived and abosed yoll, or meaus to do so. Remember the table of the fox commending the singing of the crow, who had something in her mouth which the fox wanted.
Be careful that you do not commend yourselves. It is a sigu that your reputation is small and sinking, if your own tongue must praise you; and it is falsoino and unpleasing to others to hear such commendations.
Sprak well of the absint whenever you have a suitable opportunity. Never speak ill of them, or of anyboly, unless you are sure they deserve it, and unless it is necessary for their amendment, or for the safety and benetit of others.
Avoid, in your ordinary communications, not only oaths, but all imprecations and earnest protestations. Forbar ecofling and jesting at the condition or natural defects of any person. Such ofteuces leave a deep impressiou; and they often cost a man deur.
Nevir utter any profane speeches, nor make a jist of any Scripture expressions. When you pronounce the name of God or of Christ, or repeat any passages or words of Holy Scripture, do it with riverence and seriousness, and not lightly for that is • taking the vame of God in vain. If you hear of any unseemly expresions used in riligious excreíses, do not publish them; endeavour to forget them; or, if you mention them at all. Jet it be with pity and corrow, not witli di rision or reproach.
I have little further to add at this time but my wish and command that yon will rememb r the former counsels that I have frequently given you. Begin aud end the day with private pray r; read the Scriptures often an eeriously; be attentive to the public worship of God.' Keep yourselves in some useful employment: for idlenes3 is the nursery of vuio and sinful thoughts, which corrupt the inind, and disorder the life. Be kind and loving to one another. Honour your minister. Be not bitter nor harsh to my servilnts. B respectful to all. Bear iny absence patiently and cheerfully. Beluve as if I were present among you and saw you. Remember, yon have a greater Father than I am, who always, and in all places, by holds you, and knows your hearts and thoughts. Study to requite iny love and care for yon with dutifulnede, onervance, and obedience; and account it an honour that you have an opportunity, by your attention, faithfulness, and industry, to pay some part of that debt which, hy ihe laws of nature and of gratitude, you owe to me. Be frugal in my family, but let ther: b2 no want; and provid. conveniently for the poor,
I pray God to fill your hearts with his grace, fear, and lov, and to let you see the comfort and advantage of serving hiin; and that his blessing, and presence, und direction, may be with you, and over you all.-I am your ever loving father.
Joun EARLE (1601-1665), a native of York, bishop of Worcester, and afterwards of Salisbury, was a very successful miscellaneous writer. He was a man of great learning and eloquence, extremely agreeable and facetions in conversation, and of such excellent moral and religious qualities, that-in the language of Waiton-Where had lived since the death of Richard Hooker no man'whom God had blessed with more innocent wisdom, more sanctified learning, or a inore pious, peaceable, primitive temper.' He was at one period chaplain and tutor to Prince Charles, with whom he went into exile uring the Civil War, after being deprived of his whole property for his adberence to the royal cause. His principal work is entitled
Microcosmography, or a piece of the World Discovered, in Essays and Characters,' published about 1628, and often reprinted; it is a valuable store house of particulars illustrative of the manners of the times. Among the characters drawn are those of an antiquary, a carrier, a player, a pot-poet, a university dun, and a clown. We shall give the last
The Cloun. The plain country fellow is one that manures his ground well, but lets himself lie fallow and untilled. He has reason enough to do his business, and not enough to be idle or melancholy. He seems to have the punishment of Nebuchadnezzar, for his conversation is among beasts, and his talons none of the shortest, only he eats rot krass, because he loves not sallets. His hand guides the plough, and the plough his ihonghts, and his ditch and land-mark is the very mound of big meditatious. He expostulates with his oxen very understandingly, and speaks gee and ree better tham English. His mind is not much distracted with objects; but if a good fat cow come in his way, he stands dumb and astonished, and though his haste be never so great, will fix here half an hour's contemplation. His habitation is some poor thatched roor, distinguished from his baru by the lo pholes that let out smoke, which the rain had long since washed througlis but for the double ceiling of bacon on the inside, which has bung there from his grandsire's time, and is yet to make rashers for posterity. llis dinner is his other work, for he sweats at it as much as at his labour; he is a terrible fastener on a piece of beef, and you may hope to strive the guard off cooner. His religion is a part of his copyhold, which he takes from his landlord, and refers it wholly to his discretion : yet if he give him leave, he is a good Christian, to bis power (ihat is), comes to church in his best clothes, and sits there with his neighbours, where he is capable only of two prayers, for rain and fair weather. He apprenends God's blessings only in a good year or a fat pasture, and never praises him but on good ground. Sunday he esteems a day to make merry in, and thinks a bagpipe as esaential to it as evening-prayer, where he walks very solemnly after service with his hands coupled behind him, and censures the dancing of his parish. His compliment with his neighbour is a good thump on the back, and his salutation coinmonly soine blant curee. He thinks nothing to be vices but pride an ill-han bandry, from which he will gravely dissuade the youth, and has soine thrifty hobuail proverbs to clont his discourse. He is a niggurd all the week, except only marketday, where. if his coru sell well he thinks he may be drunk with a good conscience. He is usible of no calamity but the burning a stuck of corn, or the overflowing of a meadow, and thinks Noah's flood the greatest plague that ever was. not because it drowned the world, but spoiled the grass. For death he is never troubled, and if he get in but bis harvest before, let it come when it will, he cares not.
Among those clerical adherents of the king, who, like Bishop Earle, were despoiled of their goods by the parliament, was Petek HEYLIN (1600–1662), born near Oxford. This industrious writer, who figures at once as a geographer, a divine, a poet, and an bistorian, composed not fewer than thirty-seven publications, of which one of the most celebrated is his Microcosmus, or a Description of the Great World,' first printed in 1621. Among his other works are ‘A.