ciation of time. When they think of it, as the measure of their continuance on earth, they highly prize it, and with the greatest anxiety feek to lengthen it out. But when they view it in feparate parcels, they appear to hold it in contempt, and fquander it with inconfiderate profufion. While they complain that life is fhort, they are often wishing its different periods at an end. Covetous of every other poffeffion, of time only they are prodigal. They allow every idle man to be mafter of this property, and make every frivolous occupation welcome that can help them to confume it. Among those who are fo careless of time, it is not to be expected that order fhould be obferved in its diftribution. But, by this fatal neglect, how many materials of fevere and lafting regret are they laying up in ftore for themselves! The time which they fuffer to pafs away in the midst of confufion, bitter repentance feeks afterwards in vain to recall. What was omitted to be done at its proper moment, arifes to be the torment of fome future feafon. Manhood is difgraced by the coquences of neglected youth. Old age, oppreffed by cares. that belonged to a former period, labours under a burden, not its own. At the clofe of life, the dying man beholds with anguish that his days are finishing, when his preparation for eternity is hardly commenced. Such are the effects of a disorderly wafte of time, through not attending to its value. Every thing in the life of fuch perfons is mifplaced. Nothing is performed aright, from not being performed in due feafon.

But he who is orderly in the diftribution of his time, takes the proper method of escaping thofe manifold evils. He is juftly faid to redeem the time. By proper management he prolongs it. He lives much in little space; more in a few years than others do in many. He can live to God and his own foul, and at the fame time attend to all the lawful interests of the prefent world. He looks back on the past and provides for the future. He catches and arrefts the hours as they fly. They are marked down for ufeful purposes, and their memory remains. Whereas thofe hours fleet by the man of confufion, like a fhadow. His days and years are either blanks of which he has no remembrance, or they are filled up with fo confused and irregular a fucceffion of unfinished tranfactions, that though he remembers he has been bufy, yet he can give no account of the bufinefs which has employed him.

BLAIR.

SECTION IX.

The Dignity of Virtue amid corrupt Examples.

THE most excellent and honourable character which can adorn a man and a chriftian is acquired by refifting the torrent of vice, and adhering to the cause of God and virtue against a corrupted multitude. It will be found to hold in general, that they, who, in any of the great lines of life, have diftinguifhed themfelves for thinking pro-. foundly, and acting nobly, have defpifed popular preju dices ; and departed in feveral things from the common ways of the world. On no occafion is this more requifite for true honour, than where religion and morality are concerned. In times of prevailing licentioufnefs, to maintain unblemished virtue, and uncorrupted integrity; in a public or a private cause, to ftand firm by what is fair and just amidt discouragements and oppofition; defpifing groundless cenfure and reproach; disdaining all compliance with public manners, when they are vicious and unlawful; and never ashamed of the punctual discharge of every duty towards God and man; this is what fhows true greatnefs of fpirit, and will force approbation even. from the degenerate multitude themselves. "This is the

man," (their confcience will oblige them to acknowledge) "whom we are unable to bend to mean condefcenfions. We fee it in vain either to flatter or to threaten him; he refts on a principle within, which we cannot shake. To this man we may, on any occafion, fafely commit our caufe. He is incapable of betraying his trust, or deserting his friend, or denying his faith."

It is, accordingly, this fteady inflexible virtue, this regard to principle, fuperior to all cuftom and opinion, which peculiarly marked the characters of thofe in any age, who have fhone with diftinguished luftre; and has confecrated their memory to all pofterity. It was this that obtained to ancient Enoch the moft fingular teftimony of honour from Heaven. He continued to "walk with God," when the world apoftatized from him. He pleafed God, and was beloved of him; fo that living among finners, he was tranflated to heaven without feeing death; "Yea, fpeedily was he taken away, left wickedness fhould have entered his understanding, or deceit beguiled his foul." When Sodom could not furnish ten righteous men to fave it, Lot remain. ed unspotted amidst the contagion. He lived like an an

gel among fpirits of darkness; and the destroying flame was not permitted to go forth, till the good man was called away by a heavenly meffenger from his devoted city. When "all flesh had corrupted their way upon the earth," then lived Noah, a righteous man, and a preacher of righteoufnefs. He ftood alone, and was fcoffed by the profane crew. But they by the deluge were swept away; while on him, Providence conferred the immortal honour, of being the reftorer of a better race, and the father of a new world. Such examples as thefe, and fuch honours, conferred by God on them who withstood the multitude of evil doers, should often be present to our minds. Let us oppose them to the numbers of low and corrupt examples, which we behold around us; and when we are in hazard of being fwayed by fuch, let us fortify our virtue, by thinking of thofe who, in former times, fhone like ftars in the midst of furrounding darkness, and are now fhining in the kingdom of heaven, as the brightness of the firmament, forever and ever.

SECTION X.

BLAIR.

The Mortifications of Vice greater than thoje of Virtue.

THOUGH NO condition of human life is free from uneafinefs, yet it must be allowed, that the uneafiness belonging to a finful courfe, is far greater, than what attends a courfe of well doing. If we are weary of the labours of virtue, we may be affured, that the world, whenever we try the exchange, will lay upon us a much heavier load. It is the outfide only, of a licentious life, which is gay and fmiling. Within, it conceals toil, and trouble, and deadly forrow. For vice poifons human happiness in the fpring, by introducing diforder into the heart. Thofe paffions which it seems to indulge, it only feeds with imperfect gratifications: and thereby ftrengthens them for preying, in the end, on their unhappy victims. It is a great mistake to imagine, that the pain of felf denial is confined to virtue. He who follows the world, as much as he who follows Chrift, muft "take up his crofs;" and to him, affuredly, it will prove a more oppreffive burden. Vice allows all our paffions to range uncontrolled; and where each claims to be fuperior, it is impoffible to gratify all. The predominant defire can only be indulged at the expenfe of its rival. No mortifications which virtue exacts are more fevere than those, which

ambition impofes upon the love of eafe, pride upon intereft, and covetousnefs upon vanity. Self denial, therefore, belongs, in common, to vice and virtue; but with this remarkable difference, that the paffions which virtue requires us to mortify, it tends to weaken; whereas, those which vice obliges us to deny, it, at the fame time, ftrengthens. The one diminishes the pain of felf denial, by moderating the demand of paffion; the other increases it, by rendering thofe demands imperious and violent. What diftreffes, that occur in the calm life of virtue, can be compared to thofe tortures, which remorfe of confcience inflicts on the wicked; to thofe fevere humiliations, arifing from guilt combined with misfortunes, which fink them to the duft ; to thofe violent agitations of fhame and difappointment, which fometimes drive them to the most fatal extremities, and make them abhor their exiftence? How often, in the midst of thofe difaftrous fituations, into which their crimes have brought them, have they execrated the feductions of vice; and, with bitter regret, looked back to the day on which they first forfook the path of innocence!

SECTION XI.

On Contentment.

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BLAIR.

CONTENTMENT produces, in fome meafure, all thofe effects which the alchymift ufually afcribes to what he calls the philofopher's ftone and if it does not bring riches, it does the fame thing by banifhing the defire of them. If it cannot remove the difquietudes arifing from a man's mind, body, or fortune, it makes him eafy under them. It has indeed a kindly influence on the foul of man, in respect of every being to whom he ftands related. It extinguishes all murmur, repining, and ingratitude, towards that Being who has allotted him his part to act in this world. It deftroys all inordinate ambition, and every tendency to corruption, with regard to the community wherein he is placed. It gives fweetnefs to his converfation, and a perpetual ferenity to all his thoughts.

Among the many methods which might be made use of for acquiring this virtue, I fhall mention only the two following. First of all, a man fhould always confider how much he has more than he wants and fecondly, how much more unhappy he might be than he really is.

Firit, a man fhould always confider how much he has more than he wants. I am wonderfully pleafed with the

reply which Ariftippus made to one, who condoled with him, upon the lofs of a farm : "Why," said he, "I have three farms ftill, and you have but one; fo that I ought rather to be afflicted for you than you for me." On the contrary, foolish men are more apt to confider what they have loft, than what they poffefs; and to fix their eyes upon those who are richer than themselves, rather than on those who are under greater difficulties. All the real pleasures and conveniences of life lie in a narrow compass; but it is the humour of mankind to be always looking forward; and ftraining after one who has got the start of them in wealth and honour. For this reason, as none can be properly called rich, who have not more than they want, there are few rich men in any of the politer nations, but among the middle fort of people, who keep their wishes within their fortunes, and have more wealth than they know how to enjoy. Perfons of a higher rank live in a kind of fplendid poverty; and are perpetually wanting, because, inftead of acquiefcing in the folid pleasures of life, they endeavour to outvie one another in fhadows and appearances. Men of fenfe have at all times beheld, with a great deal of mirth, this filly game that is playing over their heads; and, by contracting their defires, they enjoy all that fecret fatisfaction which others are always in queft of. The truth is, this ridiculous chafe after imaginary pleasures cannot be fufficiently expofed, as it is the great fource of those evils which generally undo a nation. Let a man's eftate be what it may, he is a poor man, if he does not live within it; and naturally fets himfelf to fale to any one that can give him his price. When Pittacus, after the death of his brother, who had left him a good eftate, was offered a great fum of money by the king of Lydia, he thanked him for his kindness; but told him, he had more already by half than he knew what to do with. In fhort, content is equivalent to wealth, and luxury to poverty; or, to give the thought a more agreeable turn, "Content is natural wealth," fays Socrates to which I fhall add, luxury is artificial poverty. I fhall therefore recommend to the consideration of thofe, who are always aiming at fuperfluous and imaginary enjoyments, and who will not be at the trouble of contracting their defires, an excellent faying of Bion the philofopher, namely, "That no man has fo much care, as he who endeavours after the most happiness.”

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