PART 2:

 

INTRODUCTION.

 

 HAVING removed whatever might discourage or frustrate our endeavors after happiness, I am now to proceed to a more particular examination of the nature of it, and the ways and methods that lead to it. In which I am obliged, according to my general design, to treat of Life, Perfection, Indolence, and fruition; accordingly, I here begin with Life J and, dividing this book into three sections, I will, in the first, discourse of the true "notion of human life: In the second, of the right conduct or regulation of it: In the third, of the right husbanding human life, by prolonging and improving it.

 

SECTION 1:

 

OF THE TRUE NOTION OF LIFE.

 

CHAPTER 1:

 

 Life a great Blessing in itself; proves a great Evil to some. And why Happiness perfect only in Heaven.,

 

 THOUGH life renders us capable of pain as well as pleasure, yet has it ever been valued as the richest blessing; the love of it is the earliest and the strongest principle in us. Nor does this passion want the suffrage of the wisest and the greatest men, or the approbation of GOD; for one chief design of society and government is the protection of life; and GOD, who best understood the bent of human nature, has proposed, as the most powerful motive to obedience, a long life (I examine not now what it farther prefigured) under the Old Testament, and an eternal one under the New. And for all this there is plain reason; for life, if it be not, when rightly understood, happiness itself, yet is it surely the foundation of it; and the foundation in a building, if it be not as- beautiful as the- upper stories, yet is as necessary.

 

 But it is with life as with all other blessings: the right Use of it is our happiness; the abuse of it our misery. There is nothing in the nature of the thing that implies evil or trouble; nor has it any necessary and inevitable tendency to it. We must not therefore estimate a blessing by the mischief it occasions to such as pervert and abuse it. It is true, when all is saidj heaven is the proper region of happiness; there it dwells in its glory and majesty; but what then Because perfection does properly belong to heaven, is there no virtue upon earth Because all things are in their maturity there, shall we deny that there is any sweetness or beauty here Just so must we think of the happiness of this, in comparison of that of another world: it is here in its infancy. We slumber, and are scarce ever fully awake; we see little, comprehend less; and we move very feebly and unsteadily; but all this while we grow up to strength, we advance towards perfection; our joints grow firmer, our stature increases, - our understanding dawns towards day, and our affections are gradually animated with a more generous and lasting heat; so that all this while this infant state of happiness is pleasant and promising, and every step in the whole progress towards perfection, presents us with fresh beauties and delights. I will not therefore spend any more time, in endeavoring to prove life a valuable blessing, but rather proceed to show how every man may make it such to himself; which I think I cannot more compendiously do, than by stating the true notion of human life; for as our misery flows from the abuse, and our happiness from the right use of life, so does the abuse from false, and the right use from true notions of it.

 

CHAPTER 2:

 

Life what in a Natural Sense, what in a Moral. Life, Perfection, and Enjoyment, inseparably united. More particularly, Life consists not in Sloth, Sensuality, Worldliness, Devilishness; but in the Regulation of all our Actions according to right Reason.

 

 LIFE may be considered either in a natural or moral sense: in the former, what it is, is an inquiry very abstruse and intricate; like the Egyptian Nile, though its streams be visible to every eye, its source or fountain is concealed; or like grace, though we feel its energy, and taste its fruits, yet we cannot discover and define its essence: but to carry our discovery thus far, is accuracy enough in moral discourses, whose end is not speculation, but happiness.

 

 Life then, whatever it be in the fountain, as we can-discern it, is nothing else but that force and vigor which moves and acts the man; and to live, speaking in a natural-sense, is to exert the powers and faculties of nature: according to which account of life, it is capable of as many notions as. are the different offices it performs: it is knowledge in the understanding; and love and hate, with all their train of passions, in the heart or soul.

 

Now because all morality consists in the right use of those blessings which our great and bountiful Author confers upon us; therefore, in a moral sense, the true life of man is nothing else but a right use of our whole nature; an active employing it in due offices, a vigorous exercise of all our powers and faculties, if a manner suitable to the dignity and design, to the frame and constitution of our beings. To live then, in a moral sense, is to know and contemplate, to love and pursue that which is the true good of man: this is the life of die understanding, will, affections, and of the whole man; and: whatever acts of ours are not some way or other conversant about truth and goodness, are not properly acts of human life,, but deviations from it.

 

 And here I cannot but pause a, little, to admire the infinite wisdom and goodness of the almighty Architect, who has contrived an inseparable connection and necessary dependence between life, perfection, and fruition; every rational act, every right use of our natural powers and faculties, as it is of the essence of the moral life, so does it contribute to the improvement and perfection of our beings, and to the felicity of our state; for perfection is the result of such repeated acts, and pleasure of our entertaining ourselves with proper and agreeable objects. Happy man, to whom to live, 'improve, and enjoy, is the same thing; who cannot defeat GOD'S goodness and his own happiness, but by perverting his nature, and depraving his faculties; but by making an ill use, or none at all, of the favors and bounties of GOD.

 

 If we examine this notion of life more closely and distinctly, and resolve this general account of it into several particulars, we shall easily arrive at a fuller and clearer comprehension of it.

 

 1. It is evident from this account of life, that it does not consist in sloth; in the cohabitation of soul and body; in mere continuance in this world. SOLOMON indeed tells us, "Truly light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is to behold the sun." (Eccles. 11: 7.) But if we must call it pleasure, it is but a faint and low one, such as irrational creatures are capable of; it can never deserve the name of life: he that possesses vital powers and faculties, is in a capacity of life, but he only that exerts them, lives. To live, is not to spend or waste our time, but to employ it. It is a lamentable history of -life, when it can all be summed up in the few syllables of a funeral ring; he lived too, or rather, as it is wont to be expressed, he died such a day of the month, such a year of his age: for indeed he lived not at all; life is a mere dream, not only on the account of its shortness", but also of its night and lethargy, when stupid ignorance confines and dims the prospect, and sluggishness enfeebles all the powers of the mind. Vigor and activity, fruition and enjoyment, make up life: without these, life is but an imperfect embryo, a mingled twilight that never will be day; the images which the slothful form of things are faint and obscure, like pictures drawn in watery colors, and vanish as easy as those half sounds and imperfect forms which we take in between sleep and waking; all their passions move drowsily and heavily, and all their entertainments have no more relish than abortive fruit, which can never be ripened into sweetness or beauty. When I have observed any one thus wasting a whole life, without ever being once well awake in it, passing through the world like a heedless traveler, without making any reflections or observations, without any design or purpose beseeming a man: 

 

 Ah! Thought I, is this that creature for which this great theatre, the world, was made; for which it was adorned and enriched Is this the creature that is the epitome of the world, the top and glory of the visible creation, a little inferior to angels, and allied to GOD Is this machine acted by a wise and immortal spirit Ah! how much is this useless stupid thing sunk beneath the dignity and design of its nature! How far short is it fallen of the glory to which GOD had destined it! Shall this contemptible thing ever be admitted to eternal life, who has so wretchedly fooled away his temporal one No, surely, I could upon the first thought imagine his sluggish soul would vanish like those of the brutes; I could easily imagine that it could sleep, not as some fancy all souls do, to the resurrection, but to all eternity. But upon better consideration, I find this ignorant life is not so innocent as to deserve no worse a fate: For is it a small crime to live barren and unfruitful, endued with so many talents To frustrate the design of our creation To stifle all the seed of divine life and perfection To quench the grace and SPIRIT of GOD In a word, is it a small crime to be false and perfidious to GOD, unjust and injurious to man No, it cannot be; and therefore the slothful and wicked servant signify one and the same thing, and must undergo one and the same sentence. 2. Life cannot consist in sensuality, that is, in the mere gratification of our carnal appetites. The reasons of this assertion are evident from the general notion of life. For (1.) This is not the exercise of the whole nature, but a part of it, and that the inferior and ignobler too. (2.) It is not an employment suitable to the dignity of our nature. 

 

 (1.) Sensuality employs only the meaner part of us. The sensualist, though he seem fond of life, does foolishly contemn the better half of it; and as much a slave to pleasure as he is, he chooses to drink only the dregs, and lets the pure streams of sprightly and delicious life pass by untasted; for if there be a sensitive and rational soul, there must be a sensitive and rational life too, and one as much elevated above the other, as the principles they flow from. But whether this be so or no, does not import much; for it is plain, that life, whatever it be, is like-seed, which, according to the different soil it is sown in, produces fruit more or less luscious and beautiful; here it sprouts forth like the seven poor lean, there like the seven plump and rich ears of corn in PHARAOH'S dream; and should it by way of fiction be supposed, that one and the same soul did communicate life to men, beasts, and vegetables; however life in each would be equal in the dignity of its original, it would vastly differ in its effects and operations; so whether life in man flow from one or two distinct principles, it is evident that its price and dignity vary according to the different powers and faculties which it moves and animates: and by consequence, that life which displays itself in the acts of our rational part, will be as different from that which consists in sensation, and the motions of bodily appetites, as is the light that glitters in a diamond, from that which faintly imitates it in a pebble; the more numerous and the more exquisite our faculties, the vaster is the empire of life, and the more delicate and charming all its functions and operations. How evident is this in all the organs and senses of the body Let darkness invade the eye, and deafness the ear, and then within what narrow bounds is the bodily life reduced How few and ignoble are the vital acts and operations of the body How vile and contemptible are all the fruits or instances of a sensitive life If, then, there be no sense or organ of the body superfluous, can we think the rational soul itself can be so If there be no power, no capacity of a sensitive soul, by which life is not enlarged or enriched, must we not needs conclude, that to extinguish the immortal spirit within us, and, as it were, to discard all its powers and faculties, must needs be to impoverish, mutilate, and stifle it Since I have a soul as well as a body, since the one is as capable of conversing with GOD and heaven, with 'truth, and goodness, and perfection, as the other is of conversing with this world of visible objects; I cannot but conclude, that to be destitute of knowledge and faith, of hope and love, is more injurious to the true life of man, than to be deaf or blind; that stupidity or lethargy in the soul, such as renders it incapable of rational pleasure, is as inconsistent with the true life of man, as lethargy or a dead palsy in the body can be; and to be excluded from commerce with the invisible world, is as fatal to it, as to be debarred the visible one.

 

 From all this it is evident, that whether we consider life with respect to its excellence and dignity, or to its enlargement and extension, sensuality is extremely injurious to it in both respects: so far doth it debase and contract it, that I may boldly conclude, to place life in sensuality is to renounce the much more valuable and delightful part of it, to banish ourselves the much better world, and to rob ourselves of a thousand joys and pleasures which we might reap from the rational powers and faculties, that is, the noblest capacities and endowments of our nature. Though this be abundantly enough to evince, that life consists not in sensuality; yet this being of the highest importance to happiness, I will proceed to the second argument against it; that is,-

 

 (2.) It is not consonant to the dignity of human nature; or, which is all one, to the design of our beings, conspicuous in our frame and constitution. Who, that ever considered what sensuality was, how narrow the extent of sense, how mean and brutish the pleasure that terminates in it, what corruption and degeneracy it ends in, who, I say, that has ever considered these, and a thousand things more, can believe that sensuality is an employment worthy of a man Is this the business of a vast and comprehensive mind - Is this consistent with desires of immortality, with unquenchable thirst of truth, with a capacity of discovering spiritual excellencies, and moral beauties and perfections Was it for this we were endued with propensions to adore a Deity What can be as much as fancied, the use of wisdom, magnanimity, conscience, sagacity, foresight, and inquiries into future things and times, if sensuality had been the only employment designed man, how much more fit had we been formed for this end, if there had been in us no reason to check and control us; no conscience that could fill us with regret for the past, or fear for the future; no wisdom that could teach us that there were any thing above us; nor greatness of mind, that could reproach us for stooping to any thing below us

 

 It is almost superfluous to add, that life consists not in worldliness or devilishness: as to the former of these, by which I mean the cares and pursuits of the world, it is plain, that to employ our time and faculties in this alone, is not to live, but at best to provide for life. Necessity may sometimes subject us to the drudgery of the world, but a voluntary choice never should. I know no other difference between a mean fortune and a great one, than this, That the great on sets a man above those cares, which the mean one forces him to submit to; that the one puts us into the immediate possession of all the means and instruments of life, improvement, and fruition, and of leisure and opportunity to make use of them; but the latter obliges us to purchase these advantages with toil and sweat, solicitude and care. It is therefore an unpardonable willfulness or blindness, whenever that vassalage, which is the infelicity of the mean man, is the choice of the rich one. Nor is it a more pardonable error in any, who continue the drudgery and care when the necessity is over, and voluntarily suffer all the disadvantages of a narrow fortune, even when they have obtained a plentiful one; who never think it time to begin to live, or to enjoy the success of their cares and diligence. This is an absurdity as gross as his, who after he has ploughed and sowed, should refuse to reap; or his, who having, with much cost and labor, furnished out a plentiful table, should not at length find in his heart to eat.

 

 Life then consists not in the abundance of the things which a man possesses, much less in the vexation or toil ^of acquiring, securing, or increasing them, which is that I intend by worldliness; but least of all can life consist in devilishness; that is, wrath, strife, revenge, pride; this cannot be called the vigor and activity, but storm and agony of our nature; this is a state wherein the understanding is covered with the darkness of hell, that is, ignorance of good and evil; and the passions are but furies, unchained and let loose.

 

 Having thus, by resolving concerning life, that it consists not either in sloth or sensuality, worldliness or devilishness, pointed out those fatal errors which mislead men from the paths of peace and happiness; it is now time to show, in the last place, what it is wherein life does more immediately and particularly consist; that is, in a vigorous and active employment of the whole man, according to the rules and dictates of right reason.

 

 When I make reason the director and guide of human life, I no more mean to exclude the aid of revelation, and the SPIRIT of GOD, than when I affirm the eye to be the -guide of the body, I intend to deny the necessity of light to good eyes, or of spectacles to dim ones. The proposition thus guarded, will appear indisputable to any who shall consider the frame of man. That we are rational creatures, is a truth never hitherto controverted; and that reason is the sovereign faculty in us, appears from the universal appeal of all sides to its tribunal. 

 

 Not the VISCOUS and wise only, but the loose and the vicious plead the authority of reason in defense of their actions; as therefore it is plain, that life consists not in vital powers and faculties, but in the exercise and employment of them; so it is as plain, that in this we are not to follow the conduct of fancy or passion, but of reason. This is the right use of our natural gifts, which distinguishes man from beasts, and men from one another; the philosopher from the fool, and the saint from the sinner: in this consist the order and dignity of human nature, in this the beauty and tranquility of human life, and in this the inward joy and peace of the mind.

 

 This will be yet more manifest to whosoever will take the pains to inquire what the office of reason is. It is this which teaches us what rank we hold among the creatures of GOD, what station we fill in the world, what our relations and dependancies are, what the duty and what the hopes, what the benefit and what the pleasure, that result from each; it is this which prescribes all our powers and passions, their order, place, and work; it is this which distinguishes truth and falsehood, good and evil; it is this which fills us with the knowledge, and inflames us with the love, of our sovereign happiness, and judges of the way that leads to it; and, finally, it is this which teaches us to set a true value upon all inferior things, in proportion to their tendency either to promote or obstruct our sovereign good. Happy, therefore, is that life, where reason is the sovereign arbitrator of all our actions, and where all the powers of the soul are servants and instruments of reason: happy this life; for it can neither want pleasure to entertain it, nor business to employ it: happy the soul which thus lives; for it shall never want comfort to support it, hope to encourage it, nor crowns to reward it; for as it grows in wisdom and goodness, so must it in favor with GOD and man, and its peace and tranquillity, its joys and expectations, must receive a proportionable increase.

 

CHAPTER III,

 

Inferences drawn from the former Chapter. 1. To cultivate our Reason. 2. To renounce every Thing that opposes it, as Fancy, Passion, Example, Custom. 3. That it is possible to be happy in every State. 4. That a long Life is a great Blessing.

 

 From the notion of life thus stated, it is evident, First, That our business is to cultivate and improve reason: for this, as you have seen, is to be the guide and superintendent of all our powers and faculties, and the arbiter and judge of all our actions."If the light that is in you be darkness, how great is that darkness!" (Matt. 6: 23.) Vigor and action, if reason do not steer them, will but prove mischievous and fatal to us; diligence and industry themselves will only serve to corrupt our nature, and embroil our life; every deviation from, reason, is a deviation from our true perfection and happiness. The fool and the sinner do, in the language of the Scripture, signify the same thing. This is the true original of all those mischiefs which infest the world,-the neglect or contempt of right reason; it is this which makes our complaints so numerous and so bitter; it is this that makes us so weak and soft in adversity, so restless in prosperity itself; it is this creates all those disasters and disappointments which make us often quarrel at Providence: " The folly of man perverteth his way, and his heart fretteth against GOD." (Prov. xix. 3.) Well, therefore, did the Wise Man advise," Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom; and with all thy getting, get understanding." (Prov. 4: 7.)

 

 The necessity of this does easily appear, from the slightest reflection upon the work or office of reason, of which I have given a general account before, much more from the use of it in three great points:-1. The employing our faculties. 2. The enjoyment of good. And, 3. The bearing evil.

 

 The employing our faculties. The soul of man, like a fertile field, may produce either herbs or weeds; the faculties of it are capable of being the instruments of the greatest evil or the greatest good; the greatest good, if regulated and conducted by reason; the greatest evil, if led by any other principle. What is the imagination of a fool, but a shop, of toys and trinkets, where a thousand empty ideas flutter confusedly up and down What his memory, but a sink of sins and follies, of mean and shameful things and actions not a treasury of excellent truths, laid up like provision for time both of peace and war. What his heart, but the rendezvous of a thousand mutinous, violent, and dishonorable lusts, which rend and tear him, worse than the Devil in the Gospel the man possessed Nay, what is fancy and wit itself, if destitute of sound judgment and true reason, but I know not what sort of flashes, which dazzle, but do not guide; serve for amusement, rather than nourishment or delight And therefore the author is very well paid, if he be praised and starved, which is generally his fate. In a word, neither business nor diversion can have in them any thing truly useful or truly pleasing, if they be not conducted by right reason; and all the dispositions and faculties of our nature will be but either lost upon fooleries, or abused to our ruin.

 

 2. The use of reason is conspicuous in the fruition of good. Knowledge is like light shed upon the face of the world, which discovers all its various beauties and wondrous wealth; which, while darkness covered them, were as though they had not been. without reason we shall not be able to discern or value our own happiness, nor be sensible of our blessings, even though they crowd upon us; without this, our very enjoyments will prove fatal to our repose, and we shall meet gall and wormwood in the bottom of our draughts of pleasure;" for the turning away of the simple shall slay them, and the prosperity of fools shall destroy them." (Prov. 1: 32.)

 

 It requires no small philosophy, either to render business pleasant, or pleasure innocent; either to discharge those duties which a great birth or eminent station call men to, or employ that time which an ample fortune makes them entirely masters of; and to husband a life of ease and enjoyment to the best. Ah! how often have I seen the vigor of nature dissolved by pleasure, the edge and fineness of its parts blunted by sloth and softness! How often have I seen men rendered mean and contemptible by prosperity, for which they were not big enough! Whereas, had the mind been enriched with true wisdom, pleasure had refined and recruited nature, and power, honor, and plenty had only placed worth and greatness in a better light. This is true in its proportion from the lowest to the highest station. It requires reason to govern and enjoy prosperity; an obscure and narrow fortune is most convenient both to conceal and preserve a fool; for plenty and power, dignity and preferment, do but expose him to scorn and danger; and it were well if the poor creature could perish or suffer alone; but the mischief is, like a false and sandy foundation, he overthrows the designs and interests that are built upon him, and miserably betrays the confidence reposed in him. But how great so ever the use of reason be, as to the goods, it is no less as to the evils of this world; for,-

 

 3. Reason is the pilot of human life, and steers it steadily through wild and tempestuous seas, amidst the rocks and shelves of lust and fancy, fortune and folly, ignorance, error, and a thousand cheats and impostures. It is this alone that enables man to despise imaginary evils, and vanquish real ones; it arms the mind with true and lasting magnanimity, furnishes it with solid comforts, and teaches it to extract life and health, virtue and wisdom, out of the madness and mutability of men and fortune, like antidotes and cordials out of things poisonous and baneful in themselves.

 

 It is not now to be wondered at, after this account of the use of reason, if I have resolved it to be the great business of man to improve and cultivate it. Surely all the great men of the world, and all the inspired ones, have been of my opinion; for their chief, If not only design, ever was, either to obtain wisdom themselves, Or to propagate it amongst others; and it is evident, that GOD himself has ever carried on this one design of advancing wisdom amongst the sons of men. This is the preeminence of his law above those of men, that these restrain the actions, but those enlighten the mind; these punish offences, but those, by informing the judgment and strengthening the reason, prevent the commission of them, and direct and instigate him to the practice of virtue.

 

 This then is the great work that GOD and man invite us to, that we should make daily progress in knowledge and understanding;" that we should incline our ears to wisdom, and apply our hearts to understanding; that we might seek her as silver, and search for her as for hid treasures." And this is that which our nature and state invite us to; for our perfection and our pleasure, our repose and tranquility, in one word, our happiness, depends upon it.

 

 Secondly, It easily follows from the right notion of life, that we are to bid defiance to all those things which directly oppose, or secretly undermine the authority of reason, or any way obstruct the free exercise of its power; for it is to no purpose to labor to advance reason, if afterwards we refuse to be governed by it. Reason, if we do not live by it, will serve only to increase our shame and guilt. ST. PETER thinks it" better not to have known the way of righteousness, than after the knowledge of it, to turn from the holy commandment delivered unto us." (2 Pet. 2: 21.)

 

 To stifle the sparks of reason by negligence and sloth,- to choke the seeds of wisdom by a lazy and vicious education, is a great crime; but to desert and betray our reason, grown up to some maturity,-to hold it in captivity and fetters,-to defile and prostitute it, by compelling it to serve abominable passions; this sure must be a far greater degree of wickedness, and consequently must needs' expose the man to the scorn or pity of the wise and rational part of mankind, to the reproaches and confusion of his conscience, and to the wrath of GOD. Or if none of these mischiefs should attend the contempt of knowledge, yet there is one more of itself sufficient to make man miserable; it precipitates him into all the irregularities and wildnesses imaginable, nothing being so insolent and ungovernable, so savage and untameable, as those passions which are accustomed to overpower and master reason.

 

 It is from all this manifest, That whoever loves life, and would experience it a real blessing, must with all his power set himself to remove and defeat whatever may hinder his ready and entire submission to the dictates of reason. Now the things which enfeeble the strength of our reason, and baffle its authority, are such as these: Fancy, passion, example, custom; these we must ever combat, until we have reduced them within their bounds. Fancy surprises, passion overpowers, custom and example betray, our reason: we must therefore always oppose the giddiness of fancy, and the violence of passion, and guard our minds against the insinuation of custom and example: and to do this well, to do it successfully, is of greater importance than any work of our secular calling, than any attendance upon trade, or a temporal interest. This can only make us great, but that will make us wise; this can make us rich, but that will make us happy: this, therefore, must be the great business of life, To assert the majesty and sovereignty of reason, and never suffer it to be held captive and enthralled by any vicious principle, or impotent lust. Happy the man who succeeds in this! His conscience shall never reproach him, nor GOD condemn him; and though he may not always hit the next way, he shall never wholly miss of the way to happiness. Therefore from this notion of life,-

 

 Thirdly, We may infer the possibility of human happiness in every state. For since to live, is but to act regularly, to use and employ our powers and faculties rationally; and since life, perfection, and fruition, are one and the same thing, or else inseparably and intimately united, it is evident that no circumstances can destroy oui happiness, unless they destroy our reason; no condition can render us miserable, but that which can render it impossible for us to act rationally; that which obstructs our attainment of knowledge, or our liberty of acting conformable to it. Bust what circumstances can these be What condition can we fancy, wherein it shall be impossible for a Christian to know his sovereign good, and pursue it,-to learn his duty, and practice it; wherein it shall be impossible for him to search and contemplate-truth, to love and follow after righteousness and goodness, and to be meek and humble, modest and magnanimous, chaste and charitable, pure and devout; wherein, in one .word, it shall be impossible for him to live by faith, or, which is the same thing in my sense, by reason The fountains of truth and wisdom lie open to all who thirst after them; and GOD no more denies any his grace than his revelation. Which being so, it is evident, that as GOD has put it into the power of every man to act rationally, so- has he put it in every man's power to be happy; that human happiness is not precarious, or dependant on fortune, but ourselves; for life consists not in the abundance of things which a man possesses, but in the right use of them j and" better is a poor and wise child, than an old and foolish King." (Eccles. 4: 13.) For the good estate-of the mind consists not in foreign, but domestic possessions; not in the riches of fortune, but of grace and virtue; and fruition cannot subsist, either in the abuse of temporal things, or the depravation of our nature, but is the true cultivation and improvement of the one, and the-right use of the other.

 

 From hence, lastly, it easily appears on what account length of days is a great blessing, whether considered in itself, or with respect to a future life.

 

 First in itself. If life did consist in earthliness, that isr the scraping and raking together sums of money, it is plain that life must be and flow with our fortune; and whenever the revolutions of times or trades should put a stop to the career of our success, and give a check to our further hopes and projects, we should have nothing else to do but to break off the thread of life; for what use could we make of the remains of our miserable days Or if life did consist in sensuality, we should have little reason to desire to survive our youth and strength; and length of days would be rather a burden than a blessing; for we should soon outlive our pleasures, and shrink and wither into dull, impotent, and contemptible things. But if my notion of life be true, the pleasures and joys of it must increase and multiply with our years, since reason ought day by day to advance to a more perfect maturity, and more absolute authority: " With the ancient is wisdom, and in length of days understanding." (Job 12: 12.) And" the paths of the righteous are like the shining light, that shineth more and more to the perfect day."

 

 A thorough experience of the emptiness and uncertainty of this world, with a longer and more intimate acquaintance with another, should possess the soul of this man with a magnanimity that nothing could shake, with, a tranquility that nothing could distui-b: the custom of doing good, together with the peace and delight that spring from the reflections on it, should make the current of his actions run smooth and calm; his observations on the changes of human affairs, the rise and declension of parties and causes, the secret springs - and wheels of the passions of the mind of man, together with the various arts of managing them, fill him with a sort of a divine foreknowledge, and entertain him with a wondrous prospect: and how happy must this man be, the absolute Master of this world, and the immediate heir of another! Which is the second thing.

 

 This is the only notion of life which can render it a blessing in reference to its influence upon another: none but rational pleasures, which are the antepast of heaven, can enkindle our thirst, or qualify us for the enjoyment of those above; nothing but the wise and rational employment of our faculties can prepare us for heaven.

 

 Nay further, if life had not this influence upon another world, length of-days would be an injury, not advantage to us; would only keep US from our heaven, and put off our happiness: but now, when every act of life perfects our nature, enlarges our capacity, and increases our appetite of glory; when every day that is added to life, by the production of some new fruit, does add new stars to our crowns of righteousness, and new treasures to our heavenly inheritance; it is evident, that a long life is a great blessing, not only on its own account, but also of that life which we expect hereafter. Blessed GOD, how conspicuous is thy goodness in this whole contrivance! How closely hast thou united virtue and happiness! And how natural is the ascent from a rational life here, to a glorious life hereafter!

 

SECTION 2:

 

OF THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF LIFE.

 

 THOUGH I will follow the received division of life into active and contemplative, yet I do not use the words of active and contemplative, strictly; but by the first I understand any sort of public life, and any sort of private one by the last; nor do I much concern myself, whether the life of a trader or artisan, be reducible under the one or the other; but accommodating myself to the nature of things, I will discourse, First, Of a^ Civil, Secondly, Of a Trading, and Thirdly, Of a Private, Life.

 

CHAPTER 1:

 

Of the Civil Life, or Active Life, of a Gentleman.

 

 BEFORE I go about to set down those rules which may render men of rank and fortune beloved, eminent, and happy in their station; I think it necessary to convince such of the obligations they lie under to be some way or other serviceable to the world; for it is in vain to talk of the knowledge and virtue necessary to adorn a civil life; to such as persuade themselves that they are born only to follow their own humor; and that it is the prerogative of their birth and fortune, to be idle, ignorant, and loose.

 

 Subset. 1: This then is the first thing I would fain make gentlemen sensible of, that they cannot, without impardonable guilt, fool away their life and fortune; and I think this would not be very hard to effect, if they would please to make but a slight reflection upon the arguments I here address to them. You owe more to GOD, and to your country, not to add to yourselves, though that be true too in a proper sense, than any others do. To GOD, to his Providence, you owe it, that you were born to those fortunes which others toil for; that you are the masters of that time, which others are forced to devote to their wants and necessities, and that you are placed at first in those advantageous heights, which others climb to by slow and tedious steps: your guilt therefore is greater than the mean man is capable of, while you invade the honor of that GOD, from whom alone you derive yours; while you dethrone him who has raised you, and employ all your power and treasure against that Being from whom you received them: no ingratitude, no treachery or baseness, is like that of a favorite and confident. And as you owe to GOD, so do you to your country, more than other men: you are they who should be the support and ornament of it; you are placed in higher orbs, not that, like meteors, your ominous blaze should be the gaze and terror of the multitude, but that, like stars, you might lighten and beautify, animate and impregnate, the inferior world; for you, like them, should have an" enlarged prospect, a swift and constant motion, a bountiful and benign influence. If your virtues do not more distinguish you from the crowd, than your fortunes, you are exposed, not

 

honored, by the eminence of your station; and you debauch and betray your poor country by your sin and folly, which your example, your wisdom, your courage, and your bounty, with all those other virtues which persons of your rank should shine with, should protect and enrich, and raise to the highest reputation of virtue and power. Miserable must that kingdom be, whose rich and great ones are as much more impudently wicked, as they are more fortunate, than other men; when they, whose example should awe the vicious, contribute not a little to corrupt the virtuous part of it, and to debauch the very genius and spirit of the nation. When they, who should be the patriots of their country, instead of being men of travel and reading, of abilities and experience, of honor and activity, are versed only in essence and perukes, game-houses and stews, and have so far lost the qualities of a gentleman, that they are meaner, falser, and cowardlier, than the lowest of the people; those must indeed be strange courts, counsels, parliaments, armies, which are filled and influenced by such as these: that must be a wretched state where men know no other politics, than what an inveterate aversion to religion and virtue suggests. But if your country move you not, consider yet what you owe yourselves. Idleness is both a reproach and a burden: for what can be more dishonorable than to be good for nothing; or more irksome to an active nature, such as man's is, than to have nothing to employ it 

 

 What can be more shameful, than for a wealthy, or well-born man, to be the pity or sport of his country, the inward scorn even of his domestics and neighbors And what can be a greater plague, than for one who is master of his whole time, and of an ample fortune, not to know how to employ the one or the other, but in such courses as tend to the disgrace of his family, the ruin of his country, and the damnation of his soul You ought too, to remember, that great fortunes generally mark men out for great troubles, as well as great enjoyments; and were there no other motive to a vigorous and active life but this one, that it fortifies the courage, and hardens the temper; this should be sufficient to any man, who will but consider to how many changes and revolutions a great fortune renders men obnoxious; so that when men had not yet entertained the opinion of the unlawfulness of self-murder, poison, as appears from LIVY'S reflection on MASANISSA'S present to his mistress, was a part of the domestic provision of the families of the great.

 

 The sum of all is, gifts of fortune, like those of grace or nature, as they capacitate and qualify, so do they oblige men to suitable duties; and Christianity expects increase proportionable to men's talents. Not idleness and luxury, not ignorance and debauchery, but knowledge and virtue, and a more eminent degree of service to GOD and man, ought to be the distinctive character of the rich and great: these are the abilities that constitute gentlemen truly great; that make them the props of a sinking state, or the glories of a flourishing one: this is that which the safety and glory of your country, and your own happiness and posterity, demand at your hands; and happy were it, if the laws and customs of our country, as one of the best constituted kingdoms and commonwealths, did exact virtue and industry with the greatest rigor, and punished idleness and riot with infamy, banishment, and death.

 

 Nor has one reason to complain, that to oblige the gentleman to an active and industrious life, is, to debase his quality, or to invade his liberty; much less to rob him of all the pleasures and advantages he is born to: on the contrary, an active virtue is the honor of a gentleman; this is the only solid foundation the love and esteem of his country can be built on; all other advantages of fortune do but adorn him as a pageant, to be the sport and gaze of the crowd; and all that have sense enough to distinguish between merit and fortune, will inwardly despise the fool and sluggard, whatever courtship and compliment they may make to the Esquire and landlord. And as business can be no " diminution of his honor, so neither can it be of his liberty: for, not to insist upon that great truth, that the service of virtue is the only freedom or liberty of man j not to mind you, that the business of men of wealth and birth is always a matter of choice, not necessity, they being ever in a condition to retire when they shall judge their privacy and leisure more valuable than their employments; this one single consideration cannot but silence this suggestion, that no man is less master of himself and his time, than the man that has an ample fortune and no business; for he is always exposed to the forms and impertinences, to the humors and sottishness, of a number of people, as idle and ignorant as himself: and I think there can be no servitude so wretched, as that to luxury and vanity, nor any confinement or attendance so tedious, as a compliance with the folly, with the trifling and looseness of the world:.' but business is at all times a comely excuse, and never fails of putting a man handsomely in possession of his liberty, and the disposal of his own time and actions.

 

 But of all the aspersions with which addresses of this kind are wont to be assaulted, there is none more palpably injurious than this, that to condemn a gentleman to business, is to rob him of his pleasure: for the truth is, it is business and employment that give gust and relish to pleasure; it is this that prevents the disease of pleasure, surfeit and satiety, " and makes diversion always new, and nature always vigorous. It is true indeed, a rational and manly employment, so raises and fortifies the mind, that it is above being a slave to sensual pleasure; and so entertains it, that it needs not make vicious pleasure a refuge against the dullness and nauseousness of life. But after all, there is one consideration more important still, which is, that the business of a gentleman, if discharged as it ought to be, is always attended with pleasure; and that a more sensible one than he can find in any thing else: for whether he protect the -oppressed, or oppose the violent and unjust by his power; whether he steer the ignorant and the simple to their harbor by his wisdom, or relieve the necessity of the poor by his wealth; whether he support a sinking friend, or raise a deserving creature; whether he assert the authority of laws, and maintain the rights of his country; in a word, whether he assist the public or the private, by his fortune, his abilities, or virtues; all these have something in them so great, so generous, that I cannot but think the opportunities and capacities of these, the highest privileges and prerogatives of a fortunate birth.

 

 It was the Sabbath, the rest of GOD, when he beheld all his works, that they were exceeding good; nor can I believe GOD took more pleasure in the creation, than he does in the preservation and government of the world: how pleasing, then, must be the reflections of these Godlike works For though this be not to create a new world, it is certainly to embellish, govern, and support, the old. There is little reason to imagine why the works of virtue should procure their authors less pleasure than those of fancy, wit, and learning, do theirs: Why the poet should feel a bigger joy arise from a witty poem; the painter from a well-finished piece; the architect from a well-contrived building; the scholar from a just and regular discourse; than a gentleman should from the happy and honorable effects of wisdom, courage, bounty, and magnanimity. These, sure, are the greater excellencies, and as the original is more noble, so is the issue too: for certainly to preserve the lives and fortunes of men is much more than to make them seem to live in imagery; to raise a family, is much more than to contrive and build a house; to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and disperse the clouds and sorrows of the afflicted, by a present and vigorous remedy, is much more than to treat the fancy of the soft and vain: and, in a word, actually to compose the divisions, allay the heats, govern the impetuosities, and restrain the exorbitant passions of men, by the force of laws, by the influence of example, and that authority and ascendant which the fortunes and abilities of the great ones give them over their inferiors, is, in my judgment, a much more signal service to GOD and man, than it can ever be to debate a controversy, or write an exhortation.

 

 Having thus demonstrated that persons of rank and fortune lie under many and strong obligations to activity, in their sphere, and confuted those objections which are commonly opposed against it, I will proceed to lay, before them, with all due respect, such rules as may guard them against that envy and danger, that toil and discontent, which usually accompany the motion of the great, as dirt or dust that of their chariots; and which, on the other side, may render their activity a great instrument of their felicity. For I would not that such as are the common patrons and benefactors of mankind, should meet with no other recompence but trouble and hazard; as if, like clouds, they could not refresh and impregnate the earth, unless they were themselves dissolved and wasted into showers: I would have every worthy action to be an accession to their greatness, and every honorable performance to carry with it a reward, which should not depend upon, the humor of the Prince, or levity of the people.

 

 Subsect. 2. The rules to be observed by the gentleman in a public station, or in order to the happiness of a Civil Life, are, 1. He must be endued with knowledge. 2. With virtues proper for his rank and station. 3. He ought to be constant, resolved, and vigorous, throughout the whole conduct and course of his life and affairs. 4. His time ought not to be so wholly taken up in business, as not to leave vacancies for religion, meditation, and friendship.

 

 1. He must be endued with knowledge. There is no fortune that knowledge better becomes, or that stands more in need of it, than a gentleman's; without it, an estate is rather cumbersome than useful, and the ignorant owner must be the tool of another's ambition or interest, the prey of a menial servant, or the property of an imperious wife, or wanton child; or, which is worse, of some crafty retainer, who grows impudent with the favor, rich with the spoils, both of the honor and fortune of his master: the without it. The confidence of other wretched projectors seems to me modesty, compared to the shamelessness of such men as obtrude themselves upon affairs of a public nature, unstudied, unversed in things of men, that is, totally unqualified; which whoever considers the difficulty of managing them well, or the mischievous consequences of miscarrying in them, must confess. Let the gentleman therefore study the laws of the realm; its changes and revolutions in their causes, progress, and effects; its natural and political strengths and weaknesses, defects and excellencies; together with its foreign interests, relation, and dependencies: nor let him be wholly ignorant of the frame and policy of other kingdoms, though he ought to be best versed in our own. He must travel abroad, but dwell at home; for I would have him have a veneration, not superstition, for the laws and customs of his own country: I doubt the wisdom of our own nation is not great enough td justify the neglect, much less the contempt, of that of foreign ones. And because what they call the law of nature, is only the law of right reason, in those great precepts of it which seem immutable and inviolable, and the same in all times and places, he ought not to be a stranger to this, lest, being ignorant of the true grounds of human society, and of the nature and obligation of particular laws, every new emergency, or deviation from the common road, discover his insufficiency; for it is a miserable thing to see how, through the weakness of some, and the subtlety of others, laws which should be the fences and bulwarks of the people, are often made their chains and fetters; and those public and solemn ties which were designed to strengthen the constitution, become the most fatal engines of undermining and subverting it.

 

 After all, that I may not seem to be treating rather of speculation than action, and to have proposed such knowledge, as if I were recommending rather a life of study than of business, I must put you in mind, that the design of this sort of learning ought to make men wise, not subtle; judicious, not disputative; that curiosity or diligence, in matters minute or subtle, has more in it of amusement than use, and that to lay the foundation too deep and broad, does seldom quit the cost; and, in a word, it seems to me to be in policy as in religion, he is the most prudent who best understands the particular laws of his particular station, as he is the most religious who is best learned, not in the universal scheme of theology, but in the regulation of his own affections, and the conduct of his own life.

 

 But in vain does he study things who knows not men; for man is the instrument of power and policy, and whoever knows how to manage and gain an ascendant over him, is the most considerable in his country, and able to do the greatest mischief, or the greatest good. But when I talk of knowing men, I mean not only such a knowledge of particular persons as may instruct you what to hope, or what to fear from them; what employments or trusts they are fit or unfit for; and, in a word, who are proper or improper instruments in different affairs, times, and circumstances; but also the knowledge of human nature; to be thoroughly read in all the springs and resorts of human actions, in all the various passions and diseases of the mind of man, with all their causes and cures, and to be able to distinguish the genuine and natural, from the acquired and artificial person. And because not single persons only, but times and ages, nations, cities, and lesser bodies and societies, have their particular temper and genius, these must not be neglected neither. This is the knowledge, which, together with a dexterous application, of it, is the very life and soul of true policy; but after all, both with respect to the public, and a man's own good, that ought to be a rule for the man of business which ST. PAUL prescribes for a Bishop: "Let him first learn to rule his own house well." He that will be truly wise, should know himself first, ere he goes about to know the world; and begin the practice of his politics in his own family, and in the due administration of his domestic affairs, in which, if he cannot succeed, I must confess I cannot see what encouragement either Prince or people can have to confide in such a one; for the disorders of a private fortune are very ominous presages of a mal-admin-istration of public trust. Nor can I see what can induce such a man to undertake it, but the mere hopes of repairing his private dilapidations with the stones and timber of the public.

 

 But after all, how necessary soever I account knowledge in a gentleman engaged in an active station, yet I cannot but observe, that whether we regard the public or the private, wickedness has ever been more fatal to both than ignorance; and all trusts have suffered more in the hands of the false and the base, than of the unfit and insufficient. Therefore,-

 

 2. The gentleman ought to be enriched with virtues, especially those which become his rank and station. Knowledge is but the seed of virtue, and like that it only rots and putrefies, if it grow not up into excellent habits, and bring forth fruits of virtuous actions. There is scarce any station which does not require a particular virtue, either to discharge or adorn it: one patience, another courage, a third vigilance; there being scarce any office or business which is not liable to some particular inconveniences and temptations: but it being impossible for me to prosecute all these, I will only insist on two or three which are essential to all true greatness, and, if I am not much mistaken, to a happy and prosperous despatch of all affairs; I am sure to the security and felicity of the public and private: these are integrity, magnanimity, humanity. By integrity I mean two things,-justice and truth: the first to regulate our actions, the second our words. Nor do I take justice in a beggarly sense, as if the gentleman had acquitted himself well enough, if there were any plausible pretence to excuse a violation or omission of a duty; as if he were to regard more what the law could compel, than what honor did oblige him to: and by honor, I mean the testimony of his own conscience, both concerning his impartial inquiries after the right, and sincerity in pursuing it; for I would not have him appear to do right, rather out of the fear of infamy, than love of virtue.

 

 The word of a gentleman ought to be fixed and im-moveable as fate, sacred and inviolable as the altar. Contracts, and evidences, and seals, and oaths, were devised to tie fools, and knaves, and cowards: honor and conscience are the more firm and sacred ties of gentlemen. Nor must this honor extend only to private dealings, but much more to public; in which, how noble is it to see integrity triumphing over interest and passion! To see a great man preferring truth and justice to the menaces of Princes, and readily quitting all interest, and all parties, to support the public safety and honor, or fall with it. But as heroic as I would have a gentleman be, I would not have him led or imposed upon by empty noise and names. If he love a good name, much more a good conscience; for I would have him as judicious as resolved, as bright and luminous as brave and inflexible. I admire not an integrity that bids defiance to prudence and right reason; I love a steady faith and immoveable justice, but not romance and fancy; I would have a great man not insensible of a difference between loyalty and slavery, between tyranny and anarchy; and in the same manner he must be able to distinguish between a serpentine subtlety, a stupid insufficiency, and want of necessary address and dexterity. 

 

 Without such a competency of knowledge, all will be folly, not integrity; vanity, not constancy. As there is an integrity in action, so is there in speech too, which seems not to consist in bare truth only, but also in an ingenuous openness and freedom; cloudiness and ambiguity being rather fit to disguise ignorance or design, than to express the sentiments of a wise or an upright mind. Yet in words, as well as deeds, there is an extreme: though frankness and openness in conversation, like free and a generous air. 

 

 The next virtue beseeming a gentleman is magnanimity. By which I do not mean an empty humor, but solid greatness of mind, which ought to discover itself in every instance of his life. I say in every instance; for I count it not enough to bear disappointments with moderation, unless he bear his success so too; I count it not enough to encounter dangers with courage, unless he encounter his pleasures with as great; and, in a word, there ought to be something even in his entertainments, as well as in his business, that may speak the strength, and wealth, and self-sufficiency of his mind. You will easily conclude this with me, if you allow these two or three things to be essential to true greatness of mind: An invincible courage and resolution, a rational and generous activity, and an enlarged and public spirit; which you cannot but allow, unless you think the coward and slave, the sluggard or sot, the sordid and selfish, may be reckoned among the magnanimous. But what principle, what foundation, is able to support so mighty a weight Natural courage may make a man brave danger, or if that will not, ambition may, while it presents him with a more formidable evil if he turn his back upon the other; but what shall make the man modest and humble in his triumphs, who was gallant and daring in fight 

 

 Passion and revenge may make men firm and fierce in their contests; but what can make a man forgive, when he is in a condition to revenge an injury The lust of power, and honor, and wealth, that is, self-love, may render a man active and industrious; but what is it that can prevail with him to sacrifice his own interest, and his family's, to public good Nothing but religion. This then is the only basis on which magnanimity can stand. This, as it will secure us against errors, so will it against the inconstancy and injustice of the world; this will minister sufficient motives to generous actions, when we meet nothing but discouragements from all things else; this, if it will not make a public employment honorable, will always make it safe; this, if it cannot render retirement pleasant, in all the changes of times and humors, will preserve a man steady and calm in himself.

 

 But whilst I recommend magnanimity, I must not forget that there are follies and vices which often usurp its name. I never thought the love of our country implied a neglect, much less a contempt, of our private fortune; that a vain confidence or presumption in provoking dangers ought to pass for courage; nor do I think that a violent intrusion into business, or an indiscreet entangling a man's self in much, or engaging in any that is foreign and impertinent, deserves the name of industry and activity; or pride, stiffness, and savageness, the name of firmness and constancy; for I would have magnanimity rather lovely than haughty, rather revered than dreaded. Therefore,- Humanity is the next virtue to be aimed at. Nothing can be more fitly joined with magnanimity, than compassion; with courage, than tenderness; nor with the felicity of a great fortune, than charity or bounty. I cannot think that there is a truer character of greatness, than to be a sanctuary to the injured, a patron to virtue, a counselor to those that err, and a support to the afflicted, the needy, and defenseless. In these things consist the life and substance of humanity j the ornamental part of it is affability or courteousness.

 

 The art of behavior lies in a narrow compass; the whole skill of it consisting in obliging; which he shall never miss who has once possessed his soul with tenderness and goodness: for then every word, every action, together with the whole air of deportment, will be animated with a resistless sweetness, and will be nothing else but the portraiture and expression of those excellent dispositions. By this means too, the deportment will be natural, not artificial; and though it be generally kind, it will be more particularly so, where it meets with a more moving occasion. To which if it be added, that the carriage of a gentleman, ought to be humble, but not popular; courteous, but hot cheap; you will decline all the considerable errors to which affability is obnoxious.

 

 It was the custom of the ancients to deliver their instruction in short and plain sentences, without a labored exhortation, or passionate enforcement. And certainly there is such a commanding authority in the dictates of truth and wisdom, such a majesty and loveliness in solid virtues, that did the simplicity and probity obtain in these, which is supposed to have done in those times, advice of this sort would easily make its way to the hearts of men, without the assistance of any motives. But I dare not be either so confident of my own performance, or of the times, as not to think it necessary to close the advice of these paragraphs with some arguments and motives to these virtues.

 

 Shall I make use here of the topics of religion Shall I invite you to integrity and magnanimity, from the omniscience and providence of GOD Shall I put you in mind how little sordidness, falsehood, and fear, how little pride and insolence, can become the principles and persuasions of a Christian, concerning the emptiness of this world, or the lasting glory of another Shall I press you to humanity, to meekness, and humility, by calling to your remembrance the life of JESUS, your frailty and mortality; and, what is worse, your sins and follies Shall I show you how mutable and inconstant your fortune is; and if it were not, how inconsiderable a distinction this makes between you and persons of lower rank And that they stand at least upon the same level with you, in respect of the substantial and solid interests of human nature, that is, the favor of GOD, virtue, grace, and glory Alas! I am afraid you have generally but little relish of this sort of arguments.

 

 But have you as little value for your country, as religion Are you as little moved by the ruin of this, as the corruption of that Behold your country, once formidable abroad, and well compact within; ah! Now what reproach does it" not suffer abroad what convulsions at home Its wealth has neither service nor defence in it; its numbers are without courage, and its forces have nothing of strength or terror in them. Why all this It bleeds in your factions and divisions; it reels and staggers under your softness and luxury; it is betrayed by your falsehood and cowardice. Ah! that its reformation might begin where its degeneracy has, and that it might recover by your virtues, the honor it has lost and forfeited by your vices! Pardon me; I do not here suppose that there fire none exempt from this accusation; that in the body of the nobility and gentry there are not, even in this degenerate age, some instances of a true English courage and integrity: I only wish, that there were more, that there were enough to atone for the rest, and to prop this declining State. Nor is it a petulant humor, but a zeal for your honor particularly, as well as that of the nation, that now acts me; for give me leave to put you in mind at length, that your honor, your interest, and your happiness, depend upon your integrity, magnanimity, and humanity; nor is it possible that the one should survive without the other.

 

 (1.) Your honor. The whole world is possessed in favor of these virtues; and however it has fared with some other, these have ever been in vogue, not amongst the best only, but worst of mankind. Some have openly defended intemperance and incontinence, but I think none ever yet in earnest, undertook the patronage of cowardice, perfidiousness, inhumanity, or insolence. I have never yet met with any, who have not thought it scandalous and reproachful to find less faith, less honor, less goodness, or, if you please, more cowardice, falsehood, and sordidness, in his LORDship, or his worship, than in a groom or lackey. Nor did I ever find, that lands, and scutcheons, and honorable ancestors, were looked upon as mitigations, but rather aggravations, of such baseness and degeneracy: nor could any man ever think it a commendation to be the sink and sewers of a noble family, the ruin of an ancient, and once stately pile, or the lees and dregs of a rich liquor since drawn off, and evaporated. 

 

 (2.) Your interest depends on these virtues. If you want these, I see not what you can possess, that can either gain you the favor of the Prince, or the esteem of the people. This sure is the reason why these virtues have ever been in such credit in the world, because their influence is so necessary, so universally serviceable, whether to the public, or to friends and dependants. That integrity which cant give others ground to rely upon you, that generosity and magnanimity which raise their hopes and expectations, naturally give you an authority and ascendant over them, and you become the master of their lives and fortunes^ whilst they promise themselves the protection or improvement of them from your virtues. To these then, you must owe the patronage and confidence of those above you; the dependence, love, and esteem of those below you; without which, what can you enjoy truly great and considerable You are impotent and contemptible as ploughmen and sailors, when solitary and abandoned; your retinue and dependence, your friends and admirers, make you powerful: in short, a man of birth and fortune that is perfidious, cowardly, selfish, and proud, has not, in my judgment, or deserves not to have, half the interest an honest yeoman, or plain dealing tradesman, has in city or country; for what confidence can be placed in such a one Will he be tender of the honor of his country, or his friend, who has no sense of his own Or will he ever be a good patron or friend, who is ready to sacrifice all to his avarice Nor is it a matter of small importance, that reputation founded in virtue, surmounts all sorts of, difficulties, and crowns all undertakings with success; and since men are naturally backward when they are jealous and distrustful, but prompt and forward where they are secure and confident; it has ever been observed, that integrity (if not destitute of competent prudence) has in despatch of affairs out-stripped craft and subtlety. 

 

 But the weightiest consideration of all is, that these virtues, if they be not the surest foundation of greatness, are doubtless of happiness; for they will make a man find a tranquillity in his mind, when he cannot in fortune. The conscience of a man's uprightness will alleviate the toil of business, and sweeten the harshness of disappointments, and give him a humble confidence before GOD, when the ingratitude of man, or the iniquity of times, robs him of all other reward.

 

Having thus given an account of these two things, wherein consists the sufficiency of a man of business, that is, -knowledge and virtue, I will proceed to the consideration of the third rule.

 

 (3.) The gentleman ought to be constant, resolved, and vigorous in his motion. Constancy and vigor, whether in the acquisition of knowledge, or improvement of virtue, or management of affairs, are of the greatest importance. I ever pi efer a strong before a fine edge; industry and resolution, before wit and parts. He that makes a daily progress, how slow so ever it be, will in time reach his stage. Vast bodies and mighty armies, by constant marches, have traveled through those unknown regions, which a single person would almost despair of compassing in his lifetime. To what a height does the tree raise its head, though its root fix in the heart of the earth Because though it grow slowly, and even imperceptibly, yet it grows constantly, and receives some accession every moment. This rule, as I insinuated before, is applicable to knowledge, virtue, and business. To knowledge: To what would not an ingenious person, furnished with all aids of science, advance his prospect, if he used but moderate industry, and proceeded regularly What could there be in any science, which were either of any use or any certainty, that could escape him And other things ought not to stop him; they may be his diversion, but ought not to be his study. I believe there are but few natures but are capable, if not of eminent accomplishment, yet of such improvement as may render them considerable and useful, if they would apply themselves to the study of knowledge with any tolerable vigor, or exert their vigor with any regularity and uniformity; it is owing to laziness and wantonness, that the slow and heavy attain not to such abilities as might make them show tolerably well: and it is to the same that the quick and witty owe their want of solidity and judgment, while they discover only enough to make the world justly condemn them, as wanting to themselves' and their country; being bad stewards of an improvable estate: ill masters of good parts.

 

 Nor is constancy less serviceable in the pursuit of virtue, than of knowledge. Virtue, when acquired, is confessed by all, to be easy and delightful; but to acquire it, this is the difficulty; but it is such a one as constancy and courage would easily vanquish.

 

Let us suppose man infected in his nature, and, what is worse, overrun by vicious habits; yet even then, the same care, watchfulness, and discipline, that cure a chronical distemper of the body, would heal an habitual disease of the mind; and one may reform and enrich a degenerate mind with as little pains as it will cost to recover a decayed estate.

 

 But let me return to my main subject, that is, the conduct of civil business. Here, I am sure, a uniform constancy and regular vigor is exacted by all. I have seldom observed men of great ability do great things without great diligence and resolution. I am sure I have seen them miscarry foully, when persons of lower talents have succeeded very well. Nay, the truth is, vigor and resolution are such noble characters, that whoever appears endued with them, can never himself miscarry, though his designs sometimes may; he generally appears a great man, even in the most unfortunate accidents, and makes 111 success itself attest his sufficiency. But commonly difficulties give way to the diligence and resolution of great men; and if to-day will not, to-morrow will, smile upon their enterprises. There are lucky minutes, when what before had wind and tide against it, moves with the stream.

 

 Whither will not he then carry his point, who never lets .slip the lucky moment through negligence, and never fails through cowardice, or laziness, to urge and push on his good success

 

 But how much so ever vigor and constancy be commended, as most serviceable to success in business, as one of the greatest perfections that man is capable of, and the best instrument of attaining all others, yet we must not forget, that the strength of our nature is soon broken if it be always strained, and the finest parts are soon tired, if they be incessantly employed; that man has a design to carry on, far nobler and more important than this of civil business; and that, so far at least, the pleasures of life are to be mingled with its toils and troubles, as to enable us the better to undergo them. Therefore,

 

 4. The gentleman's time ought not to be-so wholly taken tip in business, as not to leave vacancies for religion, meditation, friendship, and diversion. They are two extremes, fatal to happiness, to have no business at all, or so much as leaves no room for books or friends, for meditation or necessary diversion: for this makes Jife very barren and very dull; it makes business mere drudgery, and places the great man in a more toilsome condition than the mean one. Nor is this the only evil of an uninterrupted pursuit of worldly business; but what is worse, it extinguishes all relish of heavenly things, and instead of the courage and peace, with which religion inspires men, it leaves them without any rational support or comfort, either consuming with perplexed and anxious thoughts about the event of .things* or hardened into a neglect, if not contempt, of religion, proposing to themselves no other or higher end of life, than the acquitting themselves well in the station they are in, and ascribing the issue of affairs to no other providence than such as they are daily wont to employ about them.

 

 When I demand a vacant time for religion, it must not be supposed that I do not look upon religion as the first and greatest business of life; it being in vain to gain the whole world for him who loses his soul, or to be intent in advancing the peace and welfare of the public, for him whose mind is filled with disorder and guilt. I therefore suppose all the actions of the day so conducted, as to become instances of Christian virtue. I suppose justice and integrity, courage and bounty, patience and gentleness, mingling themselves in the discharge of every civil business. And then, the religion for which I demand some vacant moments, is that of public and private devotion, without which it is impossible for the great man either to preserve reputation without, or peace within. Public devotion is not only an act of worship due to GOD, but in a gentleman, a testimony of the honor which he has for the community which he is of, and an expression of chanty towards those who are influenced by his example. Nor is his private devotion less necessary than public, not only because public without private degenerates in formality, into a mere show without the power of godliness; nor yet because every man's reputation flows first from his domestics, who can have no great veneration for him who appears to have none for his GOD; but especially, because every man has particular wants and particular obligations, and none more than the great one; and therefore, must offer up to GOD his particular petitions and prayers. I cannot therefore tell how to think, that he who does not begin and close the day with prayers to GOD, can believe there is one; he that does not invoke Providence, seems to defy it; and he who sacrificeth not to GOD, sacrifices only to his own nets.

 

 As to meditation, it is so essential a part of religion, and so indispensable a preparative for devotion, that I should not have placed it here by itself, did I not extend its design something further. Meditation is that act, which, of all others, does most delight and nourish the mind, which, of all others, is most fit to raise and strengthen it. In other actions, we seem to move mechanically; in this alone, rationally. In all other, our reason seems confined and fetted by, I know not what prescriptions, customs, and

 

circumstances; in this alone, it seems to enjoy its native freedom with delight, stretching and dilating itself. In all other things, the mind seems to be impressed and moulded by the matter and business about which it is conversant; but in this, it gives what forms and circumstances it pleases to both: in this it has a kind of creative power, and I know not what sort of despotic sovereignty. In a word, he who is ignorant of the force of meditation, is a stranger to the truest pleasures of human life. The use of meditation consists either in reflection or preparation, as regarding alike yesterday and to-morrow. It is highly necessary that he look back upon his day past, who lies under so many temptations to waste it, that he whose actions are of so much greater importancce than those of private men, and fall unavoidably under a more general and severe censure, do the more carefully scan them over. Nor is preparation less necessary than reflection, for this gives order to your affairs, and forms the mind into a fit and just disposition; it prevents surprises, removes difficulties, and gives beauty and steadiness to your whole conduct.

 

 As to friendship and diversion, I shall speak but a word of them here. It is a hard matter for great men to have sincere friends, but this being a purchase of so great a .value, deserves they should lay out all their art and interest upon it. For besides the advantages of friendship in every condition, that it clears our notions, corrects our errors, confirms our virtues, enlarges our joys, and lessens our troubles; it is to men in an eminent station more peculiarly necessary, both as the ornament and support of their fortune.

 

 As to diversion, it ever must be such as may consist with the dignity of the person, such as may not lessen his character, or waste his time; such as may refresh and recruit nature, and from which he may return to his business with new vigor and new appetite, and it were very well, if diversions were so wisely contrived, that they might at once delight and improve the mind: I should therefore think that physic or husbandry, music, architecture, and such like, might be proper entertainments of vacant hours: but if the health of the body, as well as pleasure of the mind, be aimed at in diversion, it were well to have always ready some wise friends, by whose help and conversation, the time you bestow upon the health of the body, may not be utterly lost to the mind. - J

 

CHAPTER 2:

 

Of this Trading Life:-Subsect. 1. Rules relating to Success in Trade. Subsect. 2. Rules relating to his Religion.

 

 MY latter years have been spent mostly among the trading part of mankind, and I have received many obligations from them; and"I think myself bound to do them this right, to let the world know, that I have found more honor and gratitude, more clearness and integrity amongst this sort of men, than I ever could amongst others, whose quality and education raised my expectations higher: it will be therefore, no small satisfaction to me, if any endeavors of mine can render them any service.

 

 There is no condition of life free from temptations and difficulties, and therefore neither this of trades. The evils they are subject to may be reduced to two heads: Their miscarrying in trade, or in religion. I will therefore begin with such rules as may serve to prevent the former, and proceed to such as concern the latter.

 

 If we trace the ruin of such as fail or break, back to its original, we shall find it, generally, to be either idleness, or pride. Idleness, the parent of all sottish vices; pride, the parent of expensive follies, and ruinous projects. I will therefore lay down these two rules, as the foundation of the Trader's secular prosperity: 1. That he must be diligent and industrious: 2. That he must not be above his profession.

 

 1. He must be diligent and industrious. You seem born for industry; and though some pretend to be sent into the world only to enjoy a fortune; it is plain you are first to raise one; and though there may be some fortunate men in the world, that seem to thrive rather by chance than virtue, yet, in the ordinary methods of Providence, diligence and industry are the highway to wealth and plenty. And I know not with what confidence men can promise themselves the blessing and favor of GOD on any other terms. He has made nothing to be idle and useless: the heavenly bodies never cease to yield their light and influence, nor the terrestrial ones their fruit. We ourselves, subsist by a continual motion; and should our blood and spirits grow dull and sluggish, our life must needs expire with their activity." Man is born to labor as the sparks fly upward;" our capacities and endowments destine.and urge us to it, the necessities and wants of this needy state (in which nature, how kind soever it was to the golden age, does not furnish us with any thing, without art and industry) exact and demand it, and the laws of human society oblige us to it; for it is but fit that every one should contribute for the entertainment of the public, and that he should not, like a drone, be feasted and maintained by the labor and travel of others.

 

 And so far, lastly, is Christianity from abrogating the law of nature, that it earnestly enforces it: " Let ours learn to maintain good works for necessary uses, that they be not unfruitful;" that is, that they be not a shame and burden to themselves and families, to the commonwealth or Christian profession. Propose not then,^ (I address myself here to beginners,) propose not to exempt yourselves from that universal law of labor to which the whole creation is subjected; you especially, who lie under more immediate and particular obligations to it.

 

 It is an unaccountable folly fax one, who is to make his fortune in the world, to apply himself to trade, rather as a diversion than business, and to design it only as a support for sloth and luxury: it is madness in any one to propose to be master of his time, ere he be master of his trade, and to indulge his pleasures before he has made provision to defray the expense of them. And yet this, I doubt, is too general a practice; whereas, would young men consider the matter aright, they would find that they do but make their troubles and vexations endless, by indulging their ease and laziness.

 

 2. The trader must not be above his calling. Pride and vanity are generally sworn enemies, both to the content and prosperity of traders. They either tempt him to despise and neglect his trade, or put him upon expenses which it cannot maintain, and engage him in bold or hazardous projects. These I would fain reform; and methinks a few sober reflections should here prevail: what, can it be sense to make a show abroad at the expense of your content and peace at home.' Is it not much better to be modest and safe, to be humble and at ease, than to suffer daily anxieties and perplexities, and to have your mind always upon the rack, how to answer the importunities of pride and vanity It is worse yet, when a short piece of pageantry ends in perpetual infamy, when this impotent humor is nourished by robbery and injustice, by fraud and cheats. I must confess, I am amazed to think that any one should be pleased by a false and fatal grandeur, upheld only by wrong, and resolving in a moment into indelible shame and irretrievable ruin. For my part, I should in this case look upon bravery, not as the mark of greatness, but ornament of a sacrifice; not as the pomp of a triumph, but a funeral. As to those who scorn their profession, I have but this to say, Let them find out a more thriving one before they leave the old one; before they desert the profession they were bred to for its meanness, let them make sure of a more honorable employment, or else the scorn they load their trade with, will be .want of sense, not greatness of spirit; a lazy pride, not a generous ambition; and if so, I am sure there is no profession so mean as that of sloth and looseness.

 

 Subsect. 2. The second sort of rules are such as concern the Religion of the Trader or Artisan; for it is to little purpose that he thrive in his secular, if he run out in his Christian, calling. Therefore, 1. He must be sure that his calling be lawful. 2. That it be carried on with truth, justice, and charity. 3. That his attendance on the business of this world, do not extinguish his concern for a better. 4. That he propose to himself proper and rational ends of trading.

 

 1. He must be sure that his calling be lawful; that is, such as is neither forbidden by any law of GOD, or the magistrate, nor does in its own nature minister to vice. But that I may not perplex men's minds with unnecessary scruples, you must know some things minister to sin directly and necessarily, others only accidentally, not by the intention of the artist or trader, but the abuse of others. 

 

 The former sort of trades are unlawful in themselves, and no pretence can sanctify the use of them; he that directly ministers to a sin, communicates in the guilt of it, as he that purveys for the lust of others, partakes of the sin of the adulterer and fornicator; but those which minister not immediately, but accidentally, are yet in themselves lawful; nor shall the trader communicate in those abuses to which the lusts and vanities of otheis prostitute them: thus taverns are not unlawful, because abused by intemperance; nor are all shops of clothing to be shut, because thence people furnish themselves with such things as inflame their immodesty and pride: the reason is plainly this, because the sin may be separated from the trade: that wine, whose full draughts are by some made use of to the defacing reason, and enkindling lust, may as well refresh the weary, and delight the moderate. The inconvenience would be insufferable, if every profession which did but indirectly and casually administer to vice, were therefore sinful: the courts of justice must be laid aside, because, often the bar and bench have contributed to openness and rob in form of law: the pulpit must be for ever silenced, because men have sometimes sown the seeds of sedition. Yet here it must be confessed, that the more or less tendency any trade has to the promoting vice, it is in the same proportion the more or less eligible. And that it imports men, who love their peace and happiness more than gain, not to debauch their callings by prostituting them to extravagancies and exorbitances, and projecting profit from the intemperances and sins, that is, the ruin of others; for it is not sufficient to the peace and comfort of a man's mind, that his calling be innocent, if his conduct of it be not so too.

 

 2. Trade ought to be managed with truth, justice, and charity; for without these it is only a more cleanly art of cheating, or oppression; sins which I doubt can receive but little excuse or mitigation, from the custom and practice of them: without these, trade cannot be regular and easy, nor gain comfortable and delightful; since no man can have any confidence in the protection of GOD, when the methods of his thriving are such as merit vengeance, aot a blessing. Nor can I see any thing that can betray men into lying and knavery, but the want of true sense, as well as true faith; since though many have enriched themselves, yet it is evident the wealth which is more regularly purchased, is more pleasant and lasting; and that honest and equitable dealing is the surest, if not the speediest way to wealth. Nor are there, I believe, many instances of men, who, if they understood their business, have ever suffered much by their integrity in dealing; it being very hard to imagine, that a trader should be a loser by those virtues which advance credit and reputation: but however this be, I am not now inquiring after wealth, but happiness, to the obtainment of which I am very positive, that the observation of these measures is indispensable, since the contrary must needs pervert the mind, and entangle life; and as they extinguish in the soul all sparks of honor and greatness, so must they its courage and confidence, tranquillity and peace, which can result from nothing but the due moderation of our affections, and the conscience of our integrity.

 

 3. The trader's attendance on his calling, must not discharge him from his attendance on religion. It is true, that the duty of every one's secular calling is a part of religion; but this ought to be well understood, that so neither a veneration for ^religion breed a neglect of your callings, nor an overfond opinion of the merit of industry in your calling, as if all virtue were comprised in it, breed a contempt of religion. It is fit therefore to put you in mind, that arts and trades have not in themselves any direct or immediate tendency, either to the improvement of reason, or the production of virtue; they minister to the necessities of this world, not the glories of another. Nor are they so much the works of a rational and spiritual, as of a mortal and indigent, being. From whence it follows, that though they are necessary to the present state of things, yet can they deserve to employ you no longer than either the public benefit, or private convenience, requires it; and that you are then only wisely taken up about these, when neither your endowments, nor fortunes, capacitate you for a life more immediately and directly serviceable to the purposes of reason and revelation. Finally, that the works of a secular profession are then only acceptable sacrifices to GOD, when consecrated by wise principles and virtues, cleaving to and mingling with them. Do not therefore think, that a pretence of business can cancel your obligations to the duties of Christianity.

 

 If a man could fancy, which I never can, business and religion incompatible, it is evident which were to be preferred; since if the will of GOD were so, it is much better to be starved than to be damned: but without carrying the matter so far, it is plain, that virtue and religion, with a competency, render men abundantly more happy than wealth can do, if attended with the neglect or contempt of either: it is the riches of the mind that makes men great and happy; the ignorant and irreligious can never be either. Let no man, therefore, think that he suffers any damage, if foundation for their industry to build on, and leaves them under an obligation to business and employment. And is not this enough To what purpose should men toil, cark, and pinch, to make their families rich and great, that is, lazy and wanton to leave behind them an estate which their own example proves more than necessary For most of those that do so, have made little use of it themselves. Mistake me not; I do not think it unlawful to be rich, or to leave one's family so; but I think it foolish and unlawful too, to sacrifice the peace of one's mind, and the ease of one's life, to. the lust of riches: I think it silly and vicious, to raise a family by meanness and sordidness, or to lay the foundation of children's greatness, in one's own infamy. You may receive temporal good things with gratitude, and enjoy them with moderation; but if you dote upon them, you violate the vow of your baptism, and virtually renounce your faith: for would not this be to forget, that Heaven were your kingdom and country; and Earth the place of your exile, or at best, pilgrimage

 

 This is a lesson that can never be too often inculcated, not only on the account of that violent opposition it is almost every where encountered with; but also the vast importance it is of, to the quiet and contentment of a trading life. This one thing is the philosophy the trader should be ever studying, the wisdom he should be daily pursuing; that is, a true and just moderation of his desires of wealth. Did man know how to bound his desires by the necessities or conveniences of life; could he regulate his appetites by the modesty and moderation of Christianity, not by custom and fancy; I am confident this one thing would rescue him from the greater part of the evils and encumbrances which infest human life. Vanity and ambition, envy and emulation, wantonness and fancy, create most of those difficulties and necessities which stain the beauty, disturb the peace and order, and destroy the pleasures of life. When men's desires and aims are toa big fof their callings, they are unavoidably plunged into discontent and doubtful projects; and if they sink not finally into ruin, they cannot beheld up but by such an anxious and restless prosecution of the world, as looks rather like hurry or distraction, than trade or employment. I can therefore never think a tradesman happy, till he has modesty enough to find content in a moderate and easy trade; till he understands what are the bounds which his nature and his station set him; and though he know how to enjoy a great fortune, does never want one; has sense enough to use it, and virtue enough not to let his happiness depend upon it.

 

 (2.) A charitable succor and relief of others. It is confessed by all, that men are born, not for themselves only, but for other's too; and GOD, the dispenser of temporal wealth, commands" such as are rich in this world, to be rich in good works too: " but it is always to be provided, that justice first take place, and then charity. This direction therefore supposes the trader's accounts to stand fair; it supposes him to have discharged the duties which he owes to his relatives and dependants, or else to have none. I will not insist on the obligation or pleasure of charity; I will not press you to it by the interest of your present or future happiness: for the truth is, to do right to the trading world, there is no rank or order of men in the kingdom that is more sensible of the duty of charity, or more inclined and disposed to it; none that give more eminent proofs of it while living, or leave more glorious monuments of it behind them.

 

 One thing only I will take upon me to recommend to you; that is, the advice of SOLOMON: " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest: " that is, whatever good you design to do, do it speedily, and as much as in you lies, be your own executors. How often are excellent purposes strangled in the birth, by an unexpected death How frequently are they perverted by the corruption or negligence of those to' whose inspection they are committed Besides, this way you shall reap the fruit of your own plantations; you will enjoy the satisfaction resulting from the beauty and good contrivance of the foundations you have laid, or you will bfe able to supply the defects, or correct the errors, of your model, and prevent those future miscarriages which such designs are liable to. Though all this be very much, yet it is but the least part of what you will reap from being yourselves the executors of your own bounty; you will be sure that you dedicate it to charity, not to vanity; that you are building alms-houses for the living, not tombs and pyramids for the dead; you will escape the common cheat and imposture the rich put upon themselves, while they entangle themselves in covetousness all their lives, under pretence of designing mighty things after death.

 

 (3.) The tradesman ought to propose to himself a timely retreat; 1: e., if the necessities of this indigent state will give way to it. It is natural to finish business ere we finish life; to lay down our burden ere we fall under the weight of it; and quit troublesome employments, before the bungling discharge of them proclaim the decay of our parts and strength, and the increase of our avarice and ambition: nay, the very continuance of the same cares for the world, which looked before like prudence, will, in old age, be reckoned sin and folly. To trade, is but to make provision for life; and therefore since common sense will tell us that we must not be always providing for life, and never live; it is plain, men ought, if they may, at length bleak off their trade, or at least so contract it, that it may be rather diversion than travail. As SOLOMON sends us to the ants to learn industry, so might he to learn wisdom. too: the enjoyment of their treasure in the winter, being no less an instance of the one, than their labor in laying it up in the summer, of the other.

 

 If these motives seem light, there is another of more weight behind, that is, the consideration of your eternal interest. It is highly necessary to leave the world, before you be torn from it; and to acquaint yourselves more -familiarly with another world, before you pass into 'it for ever. Certainly it requires some time to prepare the soul for death" and judgment; and that man will be very unfit for either, who is carried from the counter to the grave, and from the entanglement of secular cares^ to the tribunal of GOD. But besides the benefits which you will find in retirement, the prospect of it has many in it: the hopes of a Sabbatic year in life, will ease the weight of those that precede it; and a design of retreating from trade and business, will be apt to induce men to pass their first years with more moderation and abstinence, that they may the sooner provide the means of an easy or honorable retirement.

 

 These rules, well observed, would free the trading life from all the great evils and inconveniences it is subject to. Business would be, not the curse, but the blessing, of mankind; and trade would be as innocent, if not as pleasant, as ADAM'S husbandry in his garden: 'for thus industry would be without drudgery, and care without anxiety; commerce would be carried on without any mean artifice, without tormenting designs, or vexatious disappointments. What need would there be of shifts and equivocations, of fraud and circumvention, if every man had faith enough to -believe, that GOD'S blessing upon his industry were the only way to grow truly rich I mean to get, if not so much as he would, yet as much as would be good for him What temptation would a man lie under to bondage and drudgery, or to perplexity and anxiety, if he could contain his desires within those narrow bounds which nature and his station have prescribed him What fears could disquiet the mind, which were formed into an entire resignation to, and dependence upon, GOD Or how could the v world ensnare that soul which allots a proper time for public religion, and private meditation In a word, these rules being followed, men would not only avoid the common rocks on which the happiness and fortune of the trader generally dash, but also attain the end of this sort of active life; they would get estates in their younger years, and enjoy them in their riper. Nay,no portion of life would want its proper and seasonabte enjoyments: they would in the midst of business preserve their innocence; and when they retired from it, they would perfect that religion which they could before but begin.

 

CHAPTER 3:

 

Of a Contemplative Life.

 

 I DO not calculate this discourse for students, to be persons under no direction but their own; for such and make their retreat from the world, tired and sated with it;' for those, -whose inclination or fortune casts them upon a quiet and private life: to these, I offer myself a companion j I would enter with them into their privacies, and assist them to pass their hours with true pleasure and innocence. I would inspire them, if I could, with wise and excellent thoughts; I would engage them in the most necessary and most delightful business, and guard them against those evils and follies which are apt to insinuate into the most solitary life.

 

 I must, in the next place, observe, that the life of mart must neither be wholly contemplative, nor wholly active; for as action and business, without any meditation, is apt to alienate the mind from GOD, to corrupt all that is great and truly wise in it, and wed it wholly to the world; so I doubt a life spent wholly in contemplation, without any mixture of action, will prove fruitless and unprofitable; and men condemned to utter solitude, like the trees and shrubs of the wilderness, would grow wild and savage, luxuriant in leaves, but their fruit, if they brought forth any, sour ami small. They forget the nature and the duty of man, and talk not seraphically, but fantastically, whoever persuade him to give up himself entirely to contemplation: man is yet a mixed and compound being; when he "becomes- all spirit, let him be all thought: he is yet a citizen of this world, though he be destined for another; let him not forget that there are virtues becoming him as such; let him live by intuition, when he comes into the perfect light, and enters into the beatific presence; in the mean time, let man content himself with human virtue, in this low probationary state. I proceed to discourse of these three things:-1. The reasons and ends of a contemplative life. 2. The necessary qualifications for it. And, 3. The due regulations of it.

 

 1. Of the reasons and ends of a contemplative life. (1.) Some propose to themselves ease and enjoyment, as the great end of their retirement. Now though this may be a mean project, little becoming the excellence of our Christian profession, yet I cannot but acknowledge, it seems to me an absurd thing, to wear out life in a continual hurry or drudgery; and I cannot but think it reasonable, that men should one time or other allow ease to the body, and quiet to the mind; should set both free from their servitude to the world, and eat the fruit of their travail and care: but though this be true, yet if men quit the business, only to give themselves up to the pleasures of the world; if they exchange their anxiety and toil for luxury and sensuality, and instead of being industrious and thriving traders, become idle, or, which is worse, loose and riotous country gentlemen; this, I must confess, is a miserable change; this is but to profane retirement, abuse plenty, and waste that precious time of which God has made them masters. This, in a word, is not for a man to quit his slavery, but to exchange masters: for as to the interest of another life, and the true end of this, it is much the same thing, whether a man be a servant to pleasure and sloth, or to covetous-ness and ambition.

 

 The sum is plainly this: It is undoubtedly lawful for such as have been long toiled in the pursuit of the world, to retire and enjoy themselves and their friends: but if by enjoyment be understood only the gratification of the humor by outward pleasures". I must affirm, that it is too mean, too low, to be the chief end of a retreat: and if, which is worse, by enjoyment be meant, growing fat with good eating and drinking, or, as it were, rank and rotten through ease and sloth, I deny this to be the enjoyment of a man, much less of a Christian. The enjoyment of a private life ought to consist in peace and order, in harmony and exaltation, in a holy calm and serenity, in which, as in a clear day, from the top of some advantageous height, we enjoy an enlarged and delightful prospect. When we look backwards, we behold a wide sea, covered with a vast number of all sorts of vessels, tossed up and down at the mercy of winds and waves, some few seem to make out with a steady course, but are immediately encountered with cross winds and storms, a very few indeed return in triumph homewards, and of these, some miscarry almost in sight of port. Of all the rest, a great part, with much toil and difficulty, scarcely live in stress of seas and weather; but the far greater part suffer wreck, and scatter their miserable ruins on every coast. When we look forward, we discover a rich and secure country, filled with all the marks of joy and victory. The enjoyment then of the retired, is to consist in the pleasant reflections they make on their escape out of a tempestuous world; in the intercourse they maintain with that above; in a calm and leisurely survey of all the various and wondrous works of GOD, the works of grace and nature; and lastly, in a familiar acquaintance with themselves, and the daily practice of pleasing and perfect virtues.

 

 (2.) One end of retirement may be self-defense, or preservation. An active life is a state of war, and the world is an hostile country. Snares and ambushes are laid every where for us, and ever and anon, temptations, worldly and fleshly lusts, which " war against the soul," endeavor either to court and betray us, or to drive and force us to death and ruin. Therefore, if we be conscious to ourselves of our own weakness, v/e have reason not to expose ourselves to dangers, which we have not courage nor strength enough to vanquish: and to choose retirement, not as a state of perfection, but safety. The measures of grace, the strength of reason, and the inclinations of nature, are very different in different men: whoever, therefore, upon the best survey he can make of his own forces, and after some, not insincere, trials, finds himself no match for the world, unable to countermine its policies, and oppose its power, such a one, if he can, may, nay, I believe ought, to retire from the world, as from the face of a too potent enemy. For though an active life be in itself more serviceable to mankind, yet in this case we may prefer a contemplative one as the securer; and this is not to prefer ease before spiritual industry, but before a rash presumption, and a fatal overthrow.

 

 (3.) Another end of retirement may be, to render us more beneficial to the world. The different talents of different persons, seem to mark them out to different sorts of life. There are, if I may so speak, active and contemplative gifts, and it is a great felicity for any one to be able to know himself so well, as to discern what the GOD of nature has designed him for: some, who are a disgrace to a public station, would be an ornament to a private one; many who act but awkwardly, think very wisely and accurately; and some, who do but expose themselves in business, would pass very well in retirement, and prove excellent examples of innocence and virtue, and wonderfully oblige by their good nature, sweetness, and charity, all such as should live within the reach of their influence. None are wont more earnestly to covet retirement, than such as are naturally addicted to learning. Men too plain, or too great for a crafty world, too generous and tender for a bustling, vexatious one; these are the men, who when they are masters of their wishes, seem more particularly obliged to dedicate themselves to some eminent service of the public. These must not bury their talents, but ripen them in quiet and retirement. Like guardian angels, they should procure the honor and happiness of the places, which they seldom or never appear to; and withdrawing only, not to avoid the service, but the foolery of the world, they must ever maintain an active charity for those they leave behind, caught and entangled in it. But though this direction more immediately concerns such- as these, that is, men of parts, yet sure there are none utterly exempt from this obligation of procuring the public good in their proportion. Who is there so destitute of the gifts of grace, nature, or fortune, as to have no mite to cast into the public treasury He that dares not attempt the enlightening or reforming the world, can yet advise and comfort his ignorant and afflicted neighbor; he who cannot give advice, may yet give alms, which very often is as solid and substantial a. benefit; and he that cannot do this, can yet never be excused from offering up daily prayers for the peace and welfare of his country, for the preservation and edification of the Church, for the conversion of sinners; nay, he may proceed to what particularities he shall see fit or necessary, both in his petitions and thanksgivings, and from these intercessions both the public and private may, for aught I know, reap more true and valuable benefit, than from the works and labors of the learned, or from the alms and bounty of the rich. To conclude, he that leads the most private life, and is of the poorest endowments, can yet never be supposed utterly incapable of rendering any the least service to others: since the single example of virtue and integrity, and the warmth of a pious and edifying conversation, are of the greatest use. Some way or other, therefore, the most solitary life ouo-ht to serve the public, that so retirement may not minister to wantonness and sloth, but piety and virtue; and the world may not lose a member, but enjoy its service in its proper place, and most effectual manner. But,

 

 (4.) The main end of retirement from the world should be,'to dedicate ourselves more entirely to GOD. It was to this end that the Prophets, and the Essenes amongst the Jews, and many devout and excellent persons amongst the Christians, have chosen solitude and deserts. I mean not uninhabited places; (for that, if it were so, was an excess and extravagance;) but calm and silent retreats from " the noise and 'impertinence, from the hurry and distraction, of much business and much acquaintance: here a man seems to have little else to do, but to praise GOD and improve himself; to correct and subdue whatever he feels amiss in himself; to perfect and augment his graces; and to dress and adorn his soul for the festival solemnities of another world. Now he seems to have nothing to do, but to begin his hallelujahs; to advance into the confines of heaven by faith and devotion; and from the heights of meditation, to survey as from the next advantageous hill, the riches and the pleasures of that Canaan which he shall shortly enter into. And by this method, as he shall enlarge his appetite and capacity of happiness, so shall he enlarge his share in it: by this method he shall adorn religion, and represent it to the world as most lovely and most useful; he shall experience it to be unspeakably delightful in itself: he shall render the world more easy to him, and heaven more desirable; and when he comes to the banks of Jordan, which parts this world from the other, he shall find the streams of it divided to make him way; that is, the troubles and terrors of it dissipated; and he shall pass through it full of humble gratitude for the blessings of this past life, and ravishing hopes of those of the future.

 

 2.I go on to the qualifications which fit men for a retired life: and these are, I think, three:-(I.) A plentiful, or at least, competent fortune. (2.) A mild and humble disposition; or, at least, a quiet and composed mind. (3.) A good understanding.

 

(1.) A plentiful fortune. It is true, that a competency is sufficient to render a retired life easy; and when any one betakes himself to it as a refuge, or sanctuary, against. the hostilities of temptation, this is abundantly enough; but where a contemplative life is a matter of choice, a plentiful fortune is of great use, and a great ornament: it will make the example of a man's virtue shine with a clearer lustre, and greater authority: it will enable him to do many works of charity, which shall have much delight in'them, without toil or disturbance; it will furnish, him with all useful means of public and private devotion, and with whatever is necessary to enable him to pass away the time both delightfully and rationally. By a plentiful fortune, I do not mean a great one: this is more commonly burdensome, than useful to a private life, and more apt to encumber it, than promote the true ends of it. In my retirement, I would have decency and order, but not state and show; I would have comely plenty, but not a toilsome affluence: for the business of solitude is to raise the mind, not to entangle and enslave it. But the measures of this wealth must finally be determined by every man's own bosom; for it ought to be proportioned to the temper and genius, to the capacities and abilities of the person who retires, and to the more immediate design and ends of his retirement. And after all, there is no greater stress to be laid upon this qualification than this,-It is convenient, but not essential: though a wise man may make an excellent use of it, it is not so absolutely necessary, but that he "may be happy without it, both in public and private. For,-

 

 (2.) The pleasure and success of retirement depend" much more on a man's temper; that it be calm and quiet, that it be meek and humble. And if it be not naturally so, it must be made so; for a proud and ambitious, a restless and turbulent person, will in vain seek for that rest in sequestering himself from the world, which is to be found only in the subduing of his passions. He that is fond of esteem, he that is at the disposal of fancy and humor, and is not able to shake off the yoke of fashions and customs, will find much to torment him, but nothing to improve or delight him, in his retirement: but on the other hand, the meek and humble man will find his garden a paradise, and his solitude a conversing with GOD: he will enjoy the present, without any further prospect or ambition; meditate without any distraction; worship and praise GOD as if he had no other business; and do all the good he can in his little sphere, as if it were the only pleasure of the life he had chosen. It is one of the great privileges of retirement, to 'be able to neglect imaginary good, and pursue that only which is substantial; to be the masters of our time and actions, and to model life by our own reason, not the fancies and humors of others. It is the great advantage of retirement, that a man has all the pleasure his soul desires within his own reach,-that all the world that is grateful to him, is to be found within the verge of his private abode. He, therefore, whose mind gads abroad, and hankers after foreign pleasures,-who is tainted with envy or emulation,-who hunts after esteem, and is discomposed by the fancy and censures of others, muddies the pure stream, corrupts the true relish of a retired life. This, therefore, ought to be the first endeavor of him who seeks happiness in a retreat: To free his mind from all those busy or ambitious passions which will disturb his repose, and corrupt his taste; and to reduce it-to its native purity and simplicity, in which it will be able to relish the blessing of true liberty, of easy and innocent pleasures, of true and artless friendship, of regular and undisturbed devotion, and finally, of calm and elevated meditation.

 

 (3.) A good understanding is a necessary qualification for retirement. It requires no little prudence to guard ourselves against those evils or impertinencies which will be apt to insinuate themselves into our solitude: decently to decline business, acquaintance, ceremonies, which will rob us of our time and liberty, and obstruct us in all the wise ends we propose to ourselves, is a matter of no ordinary dexterity and address. Nor does it require less understanding to preserve the peace and order of a private family; and yet it is in vain to shun the infection that is abroad, if more fatal and stubborn maladies reign at home.

 

 Further, the family of the contemplative man ought not only to give him no disturbances, but, if possible, it ought to be moulded and composed to his own humor, and animated by inclinations alike to his. Nay, after all, let us suppose the man so entirely sequestered, as to be utterly disengaged from all other interests but his own, to have no dependence upon any other's motion, to have none but himself to regard, no other to improve; even here I cannot tell whether so absolute a liberty do not need the greater wisdom to moderate and govern it, and whether it do not require a larger capacity to find a proper and wise employment, for one whose fortune has tied him to none at all. They are no ordinary endowments, which will enable one loose from all business, to spend his time profitably and pleasantly; and yet if he do not, he will be liable to the worst of evils; he will dissolve and putrefy in sloth, or else turn sour and savage, churlish and brutish, through ignorance, disgust, and discontent; nauseated with a life that affords him nothing new, nothing taking.

 

 ' But the book of nature lies open to him!' It is true, but he cannot read it: it is not every vulgar eye that discerns the delicate touches of a skilful pencil, the curious and subtle mixtures of light and shade in a well-drawn piece; it is not every spectator can judge of the beauty, strength, and convenience of a well-contrived building.

 

'But his cabinet may be well furnished!' It is true: but if he has no genius for eloquence, no ear for the music of wit and fancy, no judgment for history, no comprehension for arts or sciences; what is a cabinet to him, though furnished ever so well, either for use or rarity It is only fit to be shown, or to sleep in; for after all the cost and skill laid out upon it, the couch is the best furniture in it.

 

 ' But there is friendship!' There is; the name indeed there is, but the thing is too divine: a low and groveling soul, a dull and impenetrable temper, cannot discern the charms, nor taste the sweets of friendship. What is that familiarity which is incapable of tenderness or passion What is that conversation which is incapable of variety, or depth of wit, or judgment

 

 'But there is religion, there is devotion, a boundless field of profit and delight!' It is true; and the principles of this are plain and strong, able to move the man of lowest capacity to decline evil, follow his calling, and do good in proportion to his sense and ability. But as to seraphic, "contemplative religion, for this to be the life and business of man, it requires a vast capacity, raised and refined notions, and little less than real enthusiasm; I mean, a truly divine impetus or ardour impressed or enkindled in the soul by the exuberant influxes of the blessed SPIRIT. In a word, he who in his retreat is entirely master of himself and time, had need of talents to employ him, to find him business and pleasure, and to enable him to reap benefit from the one, and to preserve his innocence in the other. And without this degree of understanding, a solitary life must be very dull and barren; nor can 1: think of any cure for this, but to increase a man's task and business, in proportion to the defect of his understanding, that so employment may fill those vacuities which contemplation never can. This puts me in mind to advance on to the third thing proposed, viz:-

 

 3. The regulations of a contemplative life, which regard the time, the place, or the exercise and employment of retirement.

 

 (1.) As to time. Though contemplation, more or less, ought to enter into every part of our lives, yet the most seasonable time of giving ourselves up to it, is the evening of life, the declension of our age. We have then had our fill of the world, and shall not be likely to hanker after it; we have seen the emptiness of it, and shall be more likely to fix upon solid good; we shall value our peace and calm the more, after we have been long to used by storms. Besides, we shall set ourselves more seriously to the meditation of death and judgment, when we are come within view of them; and shall be apt to examine the intrinsic good and evil of things with more impartiality, when the heats of youth and the boilings of our passions are cooled; and finally, this is a seasonable time to correct and repair the errors of the past life, and to state our accounts for the last audit.

 

 But though I thus prefer age, as most fit for a retired life, I do not dissuade the younger from it, provided it be virtue, not softness, the love of another world, not a cowardly declining the duties of this, which prompts them to it. Otherwise, it were sure much better that the younger sort should be taken up by business; nay, should contend even with the cares, troubles, and difficulties of the world, rather than make choice of retirement to be the scene of a voluptuous, lazy, and unprofitable life: for in the one case something is every day learned, something done; in the other, nothing. In the one, the man lives neither dishonorable to himself, nor unuseful to his country; but in the other, he rots and consumes away ingloriously and unprofitably.

 

 (2.) As to place. Solitude has ever been deemed a friend to meditation, and retirement from the world very serviceable to a conversation with heaven; and this opinion is much strengthened by the practice of the Prophets, and devout persons in the best times. without question, a private retreat affords many conveniences and advantages to a contemplative life: leisure and silence settle and compose the thoughts, and the mind augments its strength and vigor by rest, and collection within itself; and in this state of serenity, it is most fit to reflect upon itself, or enter into a survey of the rest and peace of glorified spirits, and examine the grounds of its own hopes. By retirement we may disengage ourselves from those things which are apt either to soften or disturb us, and to breed in us either vanity or vexation; and I cannot tell, but the fineness of the air, the openness of prospect, and regularity and moderation of diet, rest, and exercise, may have that influence upon our bodies as to prepare them to be the fitter instruments of the mind. To all this we may add, that the variety, beauty, and use of all the works of nature, insensibly raise in us an admiration of the divine wisdom, and invite us to adore his power and goodness, But all this notwithstanding, it must ever be remembered, that retirement does not so much consist in solitude of place, as in freedom from secular business and troubles, from {.he allurements, distractions, and vexations of the world. If we put these off", we may find retirement enough- ia the most populous city; but if we carry these with us into the country, we shall reap little benefit from change of place or air; and under the retirement, we shall be persecuted with all the evils with which vanity, disorder, and distraction, are wont to disquiet an active and busy life. This being rightly understood, the nature of oin circumstances ought to govern us in choosing the place of our retreat, but especially a regard to those duties wherein we propose to spend the bigger portion of our time.

 

 (3.) The exercise and employment of a contemplative life is now to be considered: and here these several things offer themselves immediately: Business, friendship, and meditation, as comprising all the several acts of a contemplative life.

 

 [1.] Business. I have before said, that a life of mere contemplation is above the nature and state of man. And when I consider how few are capable of any long or regular contemplations, I am apt to think that the wisest way for most is, not to free themselves from all temporal engagements, but only from such as will disturb the peace and order of a retired life. And yet I could wish that their growth and improvement in knowledge and goodness, might be their main business and employment. So many indeed are our errors and sins, so frail, tender, and weak our virtue, that to correct the one and confirm the other, is business enough, and may of itself take up the whole of life. If we pursue diligently all the methods of the improvement of life, we shall need no other employments to spend our time. He that, besides a constant attendance upon public devotion, bestows some time each day on bewailing his sins, and blessing GOD for his mercies; on examining his present state, and establishing his future hopes; he that spends each day but a few thoughts on GOD, and JESUS CHRIST his Redeemer, on the vanity and uncertainty of all things in this world, but religion; or, finally, on death and judgment, and withal on the various arts by which sin is wont to cheat and surprise him, will, I believe, find but few hours to wake; especially when it is considered how much time the necessities of nature, and the indispensable duties we owe to relatives, take up.

 

 And this calls to my mind the vigilance and industry we owe to the happiness of others, as well as to our own. There are a great many offices of charity, to which humanity and our Christian profession oblige us. 

 

 The peace of the neighborhood, the preservation of the laws, the promoting public piety, the instruction of the ignorant, the relief of the needy, the comfort of the afflicted, the protection of the injured; these, and such like occasions, will never be wanting to rouse our zeal, and employ our charity; and these are works which will turn to as good, if not a better account in the life to come, than solitary virtue. Ajid certainly they turn to excellent account in this; for when the retired man doth cultivate the neighborhood, and sow it with his charity, he seems but to plant and water his own garden, or plough and sow his own fields; and while he renders them more rich, gay, and fertile, himself reaps the pleasure and the profit, enjoys the prospect, and feasts on the fruit. Just so it is in this piece of spiritual husbandry; he who imparts wisdom and instruction to another, purifies and exalts his own mind; he that scatters the expressions of his bounty and charity, feels his soul warm and delighted, and finds his virtue enlarged. For it is with grace as it is with nature: the exercise of each, breeds both strength and pleasure. To all which you may add, that no man consults more effectually the interest and pleasure of his retirement, than he who most zealously studies the support and improvement of his neighborhood.

 

 It is here very needful to put those I am discoursing to in mind to take care, that whilst they shun the trouble and business of the world, they suffer not themselves to be entangled in impertinences of their own creating; that they mind and pursue the main end, that is, increase in virtue, and be at all times ready to sacrifice matters of less moment to this their great interest; lest fancy and humor, or something worse, usurp the place of reason, as it does too often-happen, in a life of absolute and uncontroulable liberty.

 

 [2.] As to friendship. The distinction between acquaintance and friends is ever good, but never more proper or necessary than here; for retirement, as it signifies sequestering ourselves from company, is to be understood with discretion. And the plain rule here, as in all other cases, is, to avoid extremes; as a crowd, so solitariness, seems not to minister either to the improvement of the mind, or to the peace and calm of life. The one robs us of our time; the other leaves us so much, that to many it becomes burdensome. The one makes us \rain, trifling; or, it may be, worse, sensual; the other dull and slow; or, it may be, morose and savage. The skill of a contemplative man is not to decline all company, but provide himself of good. The Prophets themselves had their Colleges; and they in the first times, who left the cities, did yet associate themselves with one another. Indeed, as I take it, in this kind of life we have the fullest enjoyment, and the best service of our friends; the purest delight and the truest edification, being best promoted in the contemplative life by friendship: and therefore friendship is no more to be banished from the gardens and retirements of the contemplative, than from the tables and enjoyments of the active.

 

 Lastly, Devotion. Prayer and meditation are the remaining parts of the ascetic life; and indeed these ought to be his great employment. A life in the world may be a life of business, but a retired one ought to be a life of prayer and meditation. Nor indeed can it be well otherwise, unless we have proposed to ourselves some false ends of retirement; for these are not only the duties, but the pleasures of the private life. In these the soul is enlightened, enlarged, raised, ravished; in these it soars up to heaven, and looks down upon earth; in these it possesses stability and security, peace and rest, in the midst of a frail unstable nature, and a restless and tumultuous world; in these all.the passions of the soul are exercised with a most tender delight, sorrow, fear, or reverence -t love, hope, joy, reign here without either check or satiety.

 

 O blessed life! Wherein, sequestered from the world, I enjoy all that it has in it of pure, of true, or natural. Ah, that I could once break loose from those obligations that hang upon me, and enter into thy peace and tranquillity. I would plunge myself into all thy rational delights; I would lose myself to this contemptible world, and, forgetting those shadows and appearances, and at best but faint and weak reflections of good which flutter here about me, I would abandon myself entirely to the joys of the SPIRIT, and the elevations of contemplation. Let others enjoy honor, wealth, and power; let me enjoy myself, truth, and GOD. Leathers enjoy the flatteries of sense, and the cheats of fancy give me the health of a sprightly mind, the calm and serenity of a silent retreat, with the pleasure and security which the divine presence breeds in it. Let others, finally, depend on fortune; me only, on GOD and myself.