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94. Pride fills the World with Harsh waters of strife are let forth; but their course cannot be foreseen; and he seldom fails of suffering most from the poisonous effect, who first allowed them to flow.

ness and Severity.

Ibid.

Let me advise you to view your character with an impartial eye; and to learn, from your own failings, to give that indulgence which in your turn you claim. 96. Gentleness best promoted by religious

It is pride which fills the world with so men harshness and severity. In the fultess of self-es imation, we forget what we are, we claim attentions to which we are not entitled. We are rigorous to offences, as it we had never offended; unfeeling to distress, as if we knew not what it was to sutter. From those airy regions of pride and folly, let us descend to our proper level. Let us survey the natural equality on which Providence has placed man with man, and reflect on the infirmities common to all. If the reflection on natural equality and mutual offences be insufficient to prompt humanity, let us at least consider what we are in the sight of God. Have we none of that forbearance to give one another, which we all so ea nestly entreat from Heaven? Can we look for clemency or gentleness from our Judge, when we are so backward to shew it to our own brethren?

Blair.

95. Violence and Contention often caused by Trifles and imaginary Mischiefs. Accustom yourselves, also, to reflect on the small moment of those things which are the usual incentives to violence and contention. In the ruffled and angry hour, we view every appearance through a false mediam. The most inconsiderable point of interest or honour, swells into a momentous object; and the slightest attack seems to threaten immediate ruin. But after passion or pride has subsided, we look round in vain for the mighty mischiefs we

dreaded the fabric which our disturbed imagination had reared, totally disappears. But though the cause of contention has dwindled away, its consequences remain. We have alienated a friend; we have embittered an enemy: we have sown the seeds of future suspicion, malevolence, or disgust. Suspend your violence, I beseech you, for a moment, when causes of discord occur. Anticipate that period of coolness, which, of itself, will soon arrive. Allow yourselves to think, how little you have any prospect of gaining by fierce contention; but how much of the true happiness of life you are certain of throwing away. Easily, and from the smallest chink, the bitter

Views.

But gentleness will, most of all, be promoted by frequent views of those great objects which our holy religion presents. Let the prospects of immortality fill your minds. Look upon this world as a state of passage. Consider yourselves as engaged in the pursuit of higher interests; as acting now, under the eye of God, an introductory part to a more important scene. Elevated by such sentiments, your minds will become calm and sedate. You will look down as from a superior station, on the petty disturbances of the world. They are the selfish, the sensual, and the vain, who are most subject to the impotence of passion. They are linked so closely to the world; by so many sides they touch every object, and every person around them, that they are perpetually hurt, and perpetually hurting others. But the spirit of true religion removes us to a proper distance from It leaves us sufficiently connected with the the grating objects of worldly contentions. world, for acting our part in it with propriety; but disengages us from it so far, as to weaken its power of disturbing our tranquillity. It inspires magnanimity; and magnanimity always breathes gentleness. It leads us to view the follies of men with pity, not with rancour; and to treat, with the mildness of a superior nature, what in little minds would call forth all the bitterness of passion. Ibid.

$97. Gentleness to be assumed, as the Ornament of every Age and Station; but to be distinguished from polished or affected Manners.

Aided by such considerations, let us cultivate that gentle wisdom which is, in so many respects, important both to our duty and our happiness. Let us assume it as the ornament of every age, and of every station. Let it temper the petulance of youth, and soften the moroseness of old age. Let it mitigate authority in those who rule, and promote deference among those who obey. I conclude with repeating the caution, not to mistake for true gentleness, that flimsy imitation of it, called polished manners, which often, among

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the men of the world, under a smooth pearance, conceals much asperity. Let yours be native gentleness of heart, flowing from the love of God, and the love of man. Unite this amiable spirit, with a proper zeal for all that is right, and just, Let piety be combined in your character with humanity. Let determined integrity dwell in a mild and gentle breast. A character thus supported, will command more real respect than can be procured by the most shining accomplishments, when separated from virtue. Blair.

98. The Stings of Poverty, Disease, and Violence, less pungent than those of guilty Passions

Assemble all the evils which poverty, disease, or violence can inflict, and their stings will be found, by far, less pungent than those which guilty passions dart into the heart. Amidst the ordinary calamities of the world, the mind can exert its powers, and suggest relief: and the mind is properly the man; the sufferer, and his sufferings, can be distinguished. But those disorders of passion, by seizing directly on the mind, attack human nature in its strong hold, and cut off its last resource. They penetrate to the very seat of sensation; and convert all the powers of thought into instruments of torture.

Ibid.

to be the most genuine and true. In a state, therefore, where there is neither so much to be coveted on the one hand, nor to be dreaded on the other, as at first appears, how submissive ought we to be to the disposal of Providence! How temperate in our desires and pursuits! How much more attentive to preserve our virtue, and to improve our minds, than to gain the doubtful and equivocal advantages of worldly prosperity! Ibid.

f 100. The truest Misery arises from the Passions of Man in his present fallen and disturbed Condition.

From this train of observation, can one avoid reflecting upon the disorders in which human nature plainly appears at present to lie? We behold, in Haman, the picture of that misery, which arises from evil passions; of that unhappiness, which is incident to the highest prosperity; of that discontent, which is common to every state. Whether we consider him as a bad man, a

prosperous man, or simply as a man, in every light we behold reason too weak for passion. This is the source of the reigning evil; this is the root of the universal discase. The story of Haman only shews us, what human nature has too generally appeared to be in every age. Hence, when we read the history of nations, what do we read but the history of the follies and crimes of men? We may dignify those recorded transactions, by calling them the intrigues of statesmen, and the exploits of conquerors; but they are, in truth, no other than the efforts of discontent to escape from its misery, and the struggles of contending passions among unhappy men. The history of mankind has ever been a continued tragedy; the world, a great theatre, exhibiting the same repeated scene, of the follies of men shooting forth into guilt, and of their passions fermenting, by a quick process, into misery. Ibid.

$99. The Balance of Happiness equal. An extensive contemplation of human affairs, will lead us to this conclusion, that among the different conditions and ranks of men, the balance of happiness is preserved in a great measure equal; and that the high and the low, the rich and the poor, approach, in point of real enjoyment, much nearer to each other, than is commonly imagined. In the lot of man, mutual compensations, both of pleasure and of pain, universally take place. Providence never intended, that any state here should be either completely happy, or entirely miserable. If the feelings of plea- § sure are more numerous and more lively, in the higher departments of life, such also are those of pain. If greatness flatters our vanity, it multiplies our dangers. If opulence increases our gratifications, it increases, in the same proportion, our desires and demands. If the poor are confined to a more narrow circle, yet within that circle lie most of those natural satisfactions which, after all the refinements of art, are found

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101. Our Nature to be restored by using the Assistance of Revelation.

But can we believe, that the nature of

man

came forth in this state from the hands of its gracious Creator? Did he frame this world, and store it with inhabitants, solely that it might be replenished. with crimes and misfortunes?-In the moral, as well as in the natural world, we may plainly discern the signs of some violent contusion, which has shattered the ori

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ginal workmanship of the Almighty. Amidst this wreck of human nature, traces still remain which indicate its author. Those high powers of conscience and reason, that capacity for happiness, that ardor of enterprise, that glow of affection, which often break through the gloom of human vanity and guilt, are like the scattered columns, the broken arches, and defaced sculptures of some fallen temple, whose ancient splendour appears amidst its rins. So conspicuous in human nature are these characters, both of a high origin and of a degraded state, that, by many religious sects throughout the earth, they have been seen and confessed. A tradition seems to have pervaded almost all nations, that the human race had either, through some of fence, forfeited, or, through some misfortune, lost, that station of primæval honour, which they once possessed. But while, from this doctrine, ill understood, and involved in many fabulous tales, the nations wandering in Pagan darkness could draw no consequences that were just; while, totally ignorant of the nature of the disease, they sought in vain for the remedy; the same divine revelation, which has informed us in what manner our apostacy arose, from the abuse of our rational powers, has instructed us also how we may be restored to virtue and to happiness.

Let us, therefore, study to improve the assistance which this revelation affords, for the restoration of our nature, and the recovery of our felicity. With humble and grateful minds, let us apply to those medicinal springs which it hath opened, for curing the disorders of our hearts and passions. In this view, let us, with reverence, look up to that Divine Personage, who descended into the world, on purpose to be the light and the life of men who came, in the fulness of grace and truth, to repair the desolations of many generations, to restore order among the works of God, and to raise up a new earth, and new heavens, wherein righteousness should dwell for ever. Under his tuition let us put ourselves; and amidst the storms of passion to which we are here exposed, and the slippery paths which we are left to tread, Dever trust presumptuously to our own understanding. Thankful that a heavenly conductor vouchsafes his aid, let us earDestly pray, that from him may descend divine light to guide our steps, and divine strength to fortify our minds. Let us pray, that his grace may keep us from all

intemperate passions, and mistaken pursuits of pleasure, that whether it shall be his will, to give or to deny us earthly pros perity, he may bless us with a calm, a sound, and well-regulated mind; may give us moderation in success, and fortitude under disappointment; and may enable us so to take warning from the crimes and miseries of others, as to escape the snares of guilt. Blair.

$ 102. The Happiness of every Man depends more upon the State of his own Mind, than upon any external Circum. stance whatever.

While we thus maintain a due dependence on God, let us also exert ourselves with care, in acting our own part. From the whole of what has been said, this important instruction arises, that the happiness of every man depends more upon the state of his own mind, than upon any one external circumstance; nay, more than upon all external things put together. We have seen, that inordinate passions are the great disturbers of life; and that unless we possess a good conscience, and a well-governed mind, discontent will blast every enjoyment, and the highest prosperity will prove only disguised misery. Fix then this conclusion in your minds, that the destruction of your virtue is the destruction of your peace. Keep thy heart with all diligence; govern it with the greatest care; for out of it are the issues of life. In no station, in no period, think yourselves secure from the dangers which spring from your passions. Every age, and every station, they beset; from youth to grey hairs, and from the peasant to the prince. Ibid.

$103. At first setting out in Life, beware

of seducing Appearances.

At your first setting out in life especially, when yet unacquainted with the world and its snares, when every pleasure enchants with its smile, and every object shines with the gloss of novelty; beware of the seducing appearances which surround you, and recollect what others have suffered from the power of headstrong desire. If you allow any passion, even though it be esteemed innocent, to acquire an absolute ascendant, your inward peace will be impaired. But if any which has the taint of guilt, take early possession of your mind, you may date from that moment the ruin of your tranquillity.-Nor

with the season of youth does the peril end. To the impetuosity of youthful desire, succeed the more sober, but no less dangerous attachments of advancing years; when the passions which are connected with interest and ambition begin their reign, and too frequently extend their malignant influence, even over those periods of life which ought to be most tranquil. From the first to the last of man's abode on earth, the discipline must never be relaxed, of guarding the heart from the dominion of passion. Eager passions, and violent desires, were not made for man. They exceed his sphere: they find no adequate objects on earth; and of course can be productive of nothing but misery. The certain consequence of indulging them is, that there shall come an evil day, when the anguish of disappointment shall drive us to acknowledge, that all which we enjoy availeth us nothing.

Blair.

$104. Enthusiasm less pernicious to the Mind, than Coldness and Indifference in Religion.

But whatever absurdities may arise from the fancied ardours of enthusiasm, they are much less pernicious than the contrary extreme of coldness and indifference in religion. The spirit of chivalry, though it led to many romantic enterprises, was nevertheless favourable to true courage, as it excited and nourished magnanimity and contempt of danger; which, though sometimes wasted in absurd undertakings, were of the greatest use on real and proper OCThe noblest energies of which we are capable, can scarcely be called out without some degree of enthusiasm, in whatever cause we are engaged; and those sometimes which tend to the exaltation of human nature, though they may often excite attempts beyond the human powers, will, however, prevent our stopping short of them, and losing, by careless indolence and self-desertion, the greatest part of that strength with which we really are endued.

casions.

How common is it for those who profess (and perhaps sincerely) to believe with entire persuasion the truth of the gospel, to declare that they do not pretend to frame their lives according to the purity of its moral precepts! "I hope," say they, "I am guilty of no great crimes: but the "customs of the world in these times will "not admit of a conduct agreeable either

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"to reason or revelation. I know the course of life I am in is wrong; I know "that I am engrossed by the world-that "I have no time for reflection, nor for the "practice of many duties which I ac

knowledge to be such. But I know not "how it is-I do not find that I can alter "my way of living."-Thus they coolly and contentedly give themselves up to a constant course of dissipation, and a ge neral worthlessness of character, which, I fear, is as little favourable to their happiness here or hereafter, as the occasional commission of crimes at which they would start and tremble. The habitual neglect of all that is most valuable and important, of children, friends, servants-of neighbours and dependents-of the poor-of Godand of their own minds, they consider as an excusable levity, and satisfy themselves with laying the blame on the manners of

the times.

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If a modern fady of fashion was to be time, I imagine her defence would run in called to account for the disposition of her this style: "I can't, you know, be out "of the world, nor act differently from "every body in it. The hours are every "where late--consequently I rise late.. I "have scarce breakfasted before morning "visits begin, or 'tis time to go to an "auction, or a concert, or to take a little "exercise for my health. Dressing my "hair is a long operation, but one can't with a head unlike every body appear "else. One must sometimes go to a play, "or an opera; though I own it hurries "one to death. Then what with neces"sary visits-the perpetual engagements "to card-parties at private houses-and " attendance on public assemblies, to "which all people of fashion subscribe, "the evenings, you see, are fully dispo "sed of. What time then can I possibly "have for what you call domestic duties? "You talk of the offices and enjoy"ments of friendship-alas! I have no

hours left for friends! I must see them "in a crowd, or not at all. As to culti"vating the friendship of my husband, we "are very civil when we meet: but we " are both too much engaged to spend "much time with each other. With re"gard to my daughters, I have given them "a French governess, and proper masters "I can do no more for them. You tell cc me, I should instruct my servants"but I have not time to inform myself, “much less can I undertake any thing of

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"that sort for them, or even be able to "guess what they do with themselves the greatest part of the twenty-four hours. "I go to church, if possible, once on a Sunday, and then some of my servants "attend me; and if they will not mind "what the preacher says, how can I help "it?-The_management of our fortune, " as far as I am concerned, I must leave "to the steward and housekeeper; for I "find I can barely snatch a quarter of an "hour just to look over the bill of fare "when I am to have company, that they "may not send up any thing frightful or “old-fashioned. As to the Christian duty " of charity, I assure you I am not ill. "natured; and (considering that the great "expense of being always drest for com"pany, with losses at cards, subscriptions, "and public spectacles, leave me very "little to dispose of,) I am ready enough "to give my money when I meet with a "miserable object. You say I should in"quire out such, inform myself thoroughly "of their cases, make an acquaintance "with the poor of my neighbourhood in "the country, and plan out the best "methods of relieving the unfortunate "and assisting the industrious. But this supposes much more time, and much "more money, than I have to bestow."have had hopes indeed that my summers "would have afforded me more leisure; "but we stay pretty late in town; then "we generally pass several weeks at one " or other of the water-drinking places; "where every moment is spent in public; "and, for the few months in which we "reside at our own seat, our house is « always full, with a succession of com"pany, to whose amusement one is obliged "to dedicate every hour of the day."

So here ends the account of that time which was given you to prepare and educate yourself for eternity?Yet you believe the immortality of the soul, and at future state of rewards and punishments. Ask your own heart what rewards you deserve, or what kind of felicity you are fitted to enjoy ?-Which of those faculties or affections, which heaven can be supposed to gratify, have you cultivated and improved?If, in that eternal world, the stores of knowledge should be laid before you, have you preserved that thirst of knowledge, or that taste for truth, which is now to be indulged with endless information?-If, in the society of saints and angels, the purest benevolence and

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most cordial love is to constitute your happiness, where is the heart which should enjoy this delightful intercourse of affection? Has your's been exercised and refined to a proper capacity of it during your state of discipline by the energies of generous friendship, by the meltings of parental fondness, or by that union of heart and soul, that mixed exertion of perfect friendship and ineffable tenderness, which approaches nearest to the full satisfaction of our nature, in the bands of conjugal love?-Alas! you scarce knew you had a heart, except when you felt it swell with pride, or flutter with vanity !— Has your piety and gratitude to the Source of all Good, been exercised and strengthened by constant acts of praise and thanksgiving? Was it nourished by frequent meditation, and silent recollection of all the wonders he had done for us, till it burst forth in fervent prayer?-I fear it was rather decency than devotion, that carried you once a week to the place of public worship-and for the rest of the week, your thoughts and time were so very differently filled up, that the idea of a Ruler of the universe could occur but seldom, and then, rather as an object of terror, than of hope and joy. How then shall a soul so dead to divine love, so lost to all but the most childish pursuits, be able to exalt and enlarge itself to a capacity of that bliss which we are allowed to hope for, in a more intimate perception of the divine presence, in contemplating more nearly the perfections of our Creator, and in pouring out before his throne our ardent gratitude, love, and adoration?-What kind of training is the life you have passed through for such an immortality?

And dare you look down with contempt on those whom strong temptation from natural passions, or a train of unfortunate circumstances, have sunk into the com. mission of what you call great crimes?Dare you speak peace to your own heart, because by different circumstances you have been preserved from them?-Far be it from me to wish to lessen the horror of crimes; but yet, as the temptations to these occur but seldom, whereas the temptations to neglect, and indifference towards our duty, for ever surround us, it may be necessary to awaken ourselves to calculation of the proportions between such habitual omission of all that is good, and the commission of more heinous acts of sin; between wasting our own life in

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