falfely called innocent amufement, and difgracing it by faults which would alarm fociety more though poffibly they might injure it lefs. Mrs. Chapone.

$105. Of the Difference between the Ex treme of Negligence and Rigour in Religion.

How amazing is the diftance between the extreme of negligence and felf-indulgence in fuch nominal Chriftians, and the oppofite excefs of rigour which fome have unhappily thought meritorious! between a Pafcal (who dreaded the influence of pleafure fo much, as to wear an iron, which he preffed into his fide whenever he found himself taking delight in any object of fenfe) and those who think life lent them only to be fquandered in fenfelefs diverfons, and the frivolous indulgence of vanity!-what a ftrange compofition is man! ever diverging from the right line -forgetting the true end of his being or widely mistaking the means that lead to it.

If it were indeed true that the Supreme Being had made it the condition of our future happiness, that we should spend the days of our pilgrimage here on earth in voluntary fuffering and mortification, and a continual oppofition to every inclination of nature, it would furely be worth while to conform even to thefe conditions, however rigorous and we fee, by numerous examples, that it is not more than human creatures are capable of, when fully perfuaded that their eternal interefts demand it. But if, in fact, the laws of God are no other than directions for the better enjoyment of our existence-if he has forbid us nothing that is not pernicious, and commanded nothing that is not highly advantageous to us-if, like a beneficent parent, he inflicts neither punishment nor conftraint unneceffarily, but makes our good the end of all his injunctions-it will then appear much more extraordinary that we fhould perverfely go on in conftant and acknowledged neglect of thofe injunc

tions.

Is there a fingle pleasure worthy of a rational being, which is not, within certain limitations, confiftent with religion and virtue ?-And are not the limits, within which we are permitted to enjoy them, the fame which are prescribed by reafon and nature, and which we cannot exceed without manifeft hurt to ourselves, or others?-It is not the life of a hermit that is enjoined us;

it is only the life of a rational being, formed for fociety, capable of continual improvement, and confequently of continual advancement in happiness.

Sir Charles and Lady Worthy are nei ther gloomy afcetics, nor frantic enthu fiafts; they married from affection on long acquaintance, and perfect efteem; they therefore enjoy the beft pleafures of the heart in the highest degree. They concur in a rational fcheme of life, which, whilst it makes them always chearful and happy, renders them the friends of human-kind, and the blefling of all around them. They do not defert their ftation in the world, nor deny themselves the proper and moderate use of their large fortune; though that portion of it, which is appropriated to the use of others, is that from which they derive their higheft gratifications. They spend four or five months of every year in London, where they keep up an intercourse of hofpitality and civility with many of the most refpectable perfons of their own, or of higher rank; but have endeavoured rather at a select than a numerous acquaintance; and as they never play at cards, this endeavour has the more eafily fucceeded. Three days in the week, from the hour of dinner, are given up to this intercourse with what may be called the world. Three more are spent in a family way, with a few intimate friends, whofe taftes are conformable to their own, and with whom the book and workingtable, or fometimes mufic, fupply the intervals of ufeful and agreeable converfation. In thefe parties their children are always prefent, and partake of the improvement that arifes from fuch fociety, or from the well-chosen pieces which are read aloud. The feventh day is always spent at home, after the due attendance on public worship; and is peculiarly appropriated to the religious inftruction of their children and fervants, or to other works of charity. As they keep regular hours, and rife early, and as Lady Worthy never pays or admits morning vifits, they have feven or eight hours in every day, free from all interruption from the world, in which the cultivation of their own minds, and thofe of their children, the due attention to health, to œconomy, and to the poor, are carried on in the most regular manner.

Thus, even in London, they contrive, without the appearance of quarrelling with the world, or of fhutting themselves up from it, to pass the greatest part of their

time in a reasonable and useful, as well as an agreeable manner. The rest of the year they spend at their family feat in the country, where the happy effects of their example, and of their affiduous attention to the good of all around them, are ftill more obfervable than in town. Their neighbours, their tenants, and the poor, for many miles about them, find in them a fure refource and comfort in calamity, and a ready affiftance to every scheme of honeft induftry. The young are inftructed at their expence, and under their direction, and rendered useful at the earliest period poffible; the aged and the fick have every comfort adminiftered that their ftate requires; the idle and diffolute are kept in awe by vigilant infpection; the quarrelfome are brought, by a sense of their own intereft, to live more quietly with their family and neighbours, and amicably to refer their difputes to Sir Charles's decision.

This amiable pair are not lefs highly prized by the genteel families of their neighbourhood, who are fure of finding in their house the most polite and chearful hofpitality, and in them a fund of good fenfe and good humour, with a conftant difpofition to promote every innocent plea fure. They are particularly the delight of all the young people, who confider them as their patrons and their oracles, to whom they always apply for advice and affiftance in any kind of diftrefs, or in any scheme of amufement.

Sir Charles and Lady Worthy are feldom without fome friends in the house with them during their stay in the country; but, as their methods are known, they are never broken in upon by their guests, who do not expect to fee them till dinner-time, except at the hour of prayer and of breakfaft. In their private walks or rides, they ufually vifit the cottages of the labouring poor, with all of whom they are perfonally acquainted; and by the fweetnefs and friendliness of their manner, as well as by their beneficent actions, they fo entirely poffefs the hearts of these people, that they are made the confidants of all their family grievances, and the cafuifts to fettle all their fcruples of confcience or difficulties in conduct. By this method of converfing freely with them, they find out their different characters and capacities, and often dicover and apply to their own benefit, as well as that of the perfon they diftin

guifh, talents, which would otherwise have been for ever loft to the public.

From this flight sketch of their manner of living, can it be thought that the practice of virtue costs them any great facrifices? Do they appear to be the fervants of a hard mafter?-It is true, they have not the amufement of gaming, nor do they curfe themfelves in bitterness of foul, for lofing the fortune Providence had beftowed upon them: they are not continually in public places, nor ftifled in crowded affemblies; nor are their hours confumed in an infipid interchange of unmeaning chat with hundreds of fine people who are perfectly indifferent to them; but then, in return, the Being whom they ferve indulges them in the best pleasures of love, of friendship, of parental and family affection, of divine beneficence, and a piety, which chiefly confifts in joyful acts of love and praise !-not to mention the delights they derive from a taste uncorrupted and ftill alive to natural pleafures; from the beauties of nature, and from cultivating thofe beauties joined with utility in the fcenes around them; and above all, from that flow of fpirits, which a life of activity, and the conftant exertion of right affections, naturally produce. Compare their countenances with those of the wretched flaves of the world, who are hourly complaining of fatigue, of listleffnefs, diftafte, and vapours; and who, with faded cheeks and worn out conftitutions, ftill continue to haunt the scenes where once their vanity found gratification, but where they now meet only with mortification and difguft; then tell me, which has chofen the happier plan, admitting for a moment that no future penalty was an nexed to a wrong choice? Listen to the character that is given of Sir Charles Worthy and his Lady, wherever they are named, and then tell me, whether even your idol, the world, is not more favourable to them than to you.

Perhaps it is vain to think of recalling thofe whom long habits, and the established tyranny of pride and vanity, have almost precluded from a poffibility of imitating fuch patterns, and in whom the very defire of amendment is extinguished; but for those who are now entering on the stage of life, and who have their parts to choose, how earnestly could I wish for the spirit of perfuafion-for fuch a warning voice" as fhould make itself heard amidst all the gay

gay butle that furrounds them! it should cry to them without ceafing, not to be led away by the crowd of fools, without knowing whither they are going-not to exchange real happiness for the empty name of pleasure-not to prefer fashion to im mortality-and, not to fancy it poffible for them to be innocent, and at the fame time ufelefs. Mrs. Chapone.

$106. Virtue Man's true Intereft.

I find myself exifting upon a little fpot, furrounded every way by an immenfe unknown expanfion-Where am I? What fort of place do I inhabit? Is it exactly accommodated, in every inftance, to my convenience? Is there no excefs of cold, none of heat, to offend me? Am I never annoyed by animals, either of my own kind, or a different? Is every thing fubfervient to me, as though I had ordered all myfelf?-No-nothing like it-the far theft from it poflible.-The world appears not, then, originally made for the private convenience of me alone -It does not.But is it not pollible fo to accommodate it, by my own particular induftry? If to accommodate man and beaft, heaven and earth, if this be beyond me, 'tis not poffible-What confequence then follows? or can there be any other than this-IfI feek an intereft of my own, detached from that of others, I feek an interest which is chimerical, and can never have existence?

How then mult I determine? Have I no intereft at all?-If I have not, I am a fool for ftaying here. 'Tis a fmoky houfe; and the fooner out of it the better.-But why no intereft?-Can I be contented with none, but one feparate and detached? Is a focial intereft, joined with others, fuch an abfurdity as not to be admitted?-The bee, the beaver, and the tribes of herding animals, are enow to convince me, that the thing is fomewhere at leaft poffible. How, then, am I affured that 'tis not equally true of man-Admit it; and what follows? If fo, then honour and juftice are my intereft; then the whole train of moral virtues are my intereft; without fome portion of which, not even thieves can maintain fociety.

But, farther fill-I ftop not here-I perfue this focial intereft, as far as I can trace my feveral relations. I pafs from my own ftock, my own neighbourhood, my own nation, to the whole race of mankind, as difperfed throughout the earth.

Am I not related to them all by the

mutual aids of commerce, by the general intercourse of arts and letters, by that common nature of which we all participate?

Again-I must have food and cloathing.-Without a proper genial warmth, I inftantly perish.-Am I not related, in this view, to the very earth itself? to the diftant fun, from whofe beams I derive vigour to that ftupendous course and order of the infinite hoft of heaven, by which the times and feafons ever uniformly pass on? Were this order once confounded, I could not probably furvive a moment; fo abfolutely do I depend on this common general welfare.-What, then, have I to do, but to enlarge virtue into piety? Not only honour and juftice, and what I owe to man, is my intereft; but gratitude alfo, acquiefence, refignation, adoration, and all I owe to this great polity, and its greater governor our common parent.

$107. On Gratitude.

Harris.

There is not a more pleafing exercise of the mind, than gratitude.

It is accompanied with fuch inward fatisfaction, that the duty is fufficiently rewarded by the performance. It is not like the practice of many other virtues, difficult and painful, but attended with so much pleasure, that were there no pofitive command which enjoined it, nor any recompence laid up for it hereafter-a generous mind would indulge in it, for the natural gratification that accompanies it.

If gratitude is due from man to manhow much more from man to his Maker?

The Supreme Being does not only confer upon us thofe bounties which proceed more immediately from his hand, but even thofe benefits which are conveyed to us by others. Every bleffing we enjoy, by what means foever it may be derived upon us, is the gift of Him who is the great Author of good, and Father of mercies.

If gratitude, when exerted towards one another, naturally produces a very pleafing fenfation in the mind of a grateful man; it exalts the foul into rapture, when it is employed on this great object of gratitude, on this beneficent Being, who has given us every thing we already poffefs, and from whom we expect every thing we yet hope for.

Most of the works of the Pagan poets were either direct hymns of their deities, or tended indirectly to the celebration of

their refpective attributes and perfections. Thofe who are acquainted with the works of the Greek and Latin poets which are ftill extant, will, upon reflection, find this obfervation fo true, that I fhall not enlarge Lpon it. One would wonder that more of our Chriftian poets have not turned their thoughts this way, especially if we confider, that our idea of the Supreme Being, is not only infinitely more great and noble than could poffibly enter into the heart of a heathen, but filled with every thing that can raise the imagination, and give an opportunity for the fublimeft thoughts and conceptions.

Plutarch tells us of a heathen who was finging an hymn to Diana, in which he celebrated her for her delight in human facrifices, and other inftances of cruelty and revenge; upon which a poet who was prefent at this piece of devotion, and feems to have had a truer idea of the divine nature, told the votary, by way of reproof, that in recompence for his hymn, he heartily wished he might have a daughter of the fame temper with the goddess he celebrated. It was indeed impoffible to write the praises of one of thofe falfe deities, according to the Pagan creed, without a mixture of impertinence and abfurdity.

The Jews, who before the time of Chriftianity were the only people who had the knowledge of the true God, have fet the Christian world an example how they cught to employ this divine talent, of which I am fpeaking. As that nation produced men of great genius, without confidering them as infpired writers, they have tranfmitted to us many hymns and divine cdes, which excel thofe that are delivered down to us by the ancient Greeks and Romans, in the poetry as much as in the subject to which it is confecrated. This, I think, might be cafily thewn, if there were occafion for it.

but fuch was the abftraction of his mind, that his eye did not immediately take cognizance of its object. In the moment of recollection he started as from a dream, he covered his face in confufion, and bowed himself to the ground. "Son of affliction," faid Omar, "who art thou, and what is thy distress ?" " My name," replied the ftranger, "is Haffan, and I am a native of this city: the Angel of adverfity has laid his hand upon me, and the wretch whom thine eye compaflionates, thou canst not deliver." "To deliver thee," faid Omar, "belongs to Him only, from whom we fhould receive with humility both good and evil: yet hide not thy life from me; for the burthen which I cannot remove, I may at least enable thee to fuftain." Haffan fixed his eyes upon the ground, and remained fome time filent; then fetching a deep figh, he looked up at the hermit, and thus complied with his requeft.

It is now fix years fince our mighty lord the Caliph Almalic, whofe memory be bleffed, firft came privately to worship in the temple of the holy city. The bleffing which he petitioned of the prophet, as the prophet's vicegerent, he was diligent to difpenfe: in the intervals of his devotion, therefore, he went about the city relieving diftrefs and reftraining oppreffion: the widow fmiled under his protection, and the weakness of age and infancy was fuftained by his bounty. I, who dreaded no evil but fickness, and expected no good beyond the reward of my labour, was finging at my work, when Almalic entered my dwelling. He looked round with a fmile of complacency; perceiving that though it was mean it was neat, and though I was poor I appeared to be con

tent.

As his habit was that of a pilgrim, I haftened to receive him with fuch hofpitality as was in my power; and my chearfulness was rather increased than reftrained by his prefence. After he had accepted fome coffee, he asked me many queftions; and though by my anfwers I always endeavoured to excite him to mirth, yet I perceived that he grew thoughtful, and eyed me with a placid but fixed attention. I fufpected that he had fome knowledge of me, and therefore enquired his country and his name. "Haifan," faid he, I have raised thy curiofity, and it fhall be fatisfied; he who now talks with thee, is Almalic, the fovereign of the faithful, whofe feat is the throne of Me

G

dina,

dina, and whofe commiffion is from above." Thefe words ftruck me dumb with aftonishment, though I had fome doubt of their truth: but Almalic, throwing back his garment, discovered the peculiarity of his veft, and put the royal fignet upon his finger. I then started up, and was about to proftrate myself before him, but he prevented me: "Haffan," faid he, "forbear; thou art greater than I, and from thee I have at once derived humility and wifdom." I answered, "Mock not thy fervant, who is but as a worm before thee: life and death are in thy hand, and happinefs and mifery are the daughters of thy will." "Haflan," he replied, “I can no otherwife give life or happinefs, than by not taking them away: thou art thyfelf beyond the reach of my bounty, and poffeffed of felicity which I can neither communicate nor obtain. My influence over others, fills my bofom with perpetual folicitude and anxiety; and yet my influence over others extends only to their vices, whether I would reward or punifh. By the bow-ftring, I can reprefs violence and fraud; and by the delegation of power, I can transfer the infatiable wishes of avarice and ambition from one object to another: but with respect to virtue, I am impotent; if I could reward it, I would reward it in thee. Thou art content, and haft therefore neither avarice nor ambition: to exalt thee, would deftroy the fimplicity of thy life, and diminish that happiness which I have no power either to encreafe or to continue."

He then rofe up, and commanding me not to difclofe his fecret, departed.

As foon as I recovered from the confufion and aftonishment in which the Caliph left me, I began to regret that my behaviour had intercepted his bounty; and accufed that chearfulness of folly, which was the concomitant of poverty and labour. I now repined at the obfcurity of my ftation, which my former infenfibility had perpetuated: I neglected my Jabour, because I defpifed the reward; I Spent the day in idleness, forming romantic projects to recover the advantages which I had loft: and at night, inftead of lofing myself in that sweet and refreshing fleep, from which I used to rife with new health, chearfulness, and vigour, I dreamt of fplendid habits and a numerous retinue, of gardens, palaces, eunuchs, and women, and waked only to regret the illufions that had vanished. My health was at

length impaired by the inquietude of my mind; I fold all my moveables for fubfiftence; and referved only a mattrass, upon which I fometimes lay from one night to another.

In the firft moon of the following year, the Caliph came again to Mecca, with the fame fecrecy, and for the fame purposes. He was willing once more to fee the man, whom he confidered as deriving felicity from himself. But he found me, not finging at my work, ruddy with health, vivid with chearfulness; but pale and dejected, fitting on the ground, and chewing opium, which contributed to fubftitute the phantoms of imagination for the realities of greatnefs. He entered with a kind of joyful impatience in his countenance, which, the moment he beheld me, was changed to a mixture of wonder and pity. I had often wished for another opportunity to addrefs the Caliph; yet I was confounded at his prefence, and, throwing myself at his feet, I laid my hand upon my head, and was speechless. 66 "Haffan," faid he, "what canft thou have loft, whofe wealth was the labour of thine own hand; and what can have made thee fad, the fpring of whofe joy was in thy own bofom? What evil hath befallen thee? Speak, and if I can remove it, thou art happy." I was now encouraged to look up, and I replied, "Let my Lord forgive the prefumption of his fervant, who rather than utter a falfehood, would be dumb for ever. I am become wretched by the lofs of that which I never poffeffed: thou haft raifed wishes, which indeed I am not worthy thou shouldft fatisfy; but why fhould it be thought, that he who was happy in obfcurity and indigence, would not have been rendered more happy by eminence and wealth ?"

When I had finished this fpeech, Almalic ftood fome moments in fufpenfe, and I continued proftrate before him. "Haffan," faid he, " I perceive, not with indignation but regret, that I mistook thy character; I now difcover avarice and ambition in thy heart, which lay torpid only because their objects were too remote to roufe them. I cannot therefore inveft thee with authority, because I would not fubje& my people to oppreffion; and becaufe I would not be compelled to punish thee for crimes which I firft enabled thee to commit. But as I have taken from thee that which I cannot restore, I will at leaft gratify the wishes that I excited, lest

thy