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 ESSAYS 
 
 AND 
 
 MEDITATIONS. 
 
C. Hansard, Primer, Fetcrborough-court, Fleet-street, London. 
 
ESSAYS: 
 
 ON 
 
 RETIREMENT FROM BUSINESS; 
 ON OLD AGE; 
 
 AND ON 
 
 THE EMPLOYMENT OF THE SOUL AFTER 
 DEATH; 
 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED 
 
 MEDITATIONS 
 
 ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, 
 
 RELIGIOUS AND MORAL. 
 
 by y 
 
 A PHYSICIAN. 
 
 THE FOURTH EDITION, 
 
 Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright : For the end 
 of that man is peace. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR F., C, AND J. RIVTNGTOK, 
 62, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD. 
 
 1812. 
 

 
ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 TO THE 
 
 PRESENT EDITION. 
 
 The little Volume, now again offered 
 to the notice of the public, has been for 
 some years scarce, and it should seem 
 almost for gotten. The Publishers trust 
 they shall receive the thanks of the 
 serious part of the Community, for res- 
 cuing from oblivion a Work in which 
 so much truly Christian Piety is to be 
 found. 
 
 November, 1812. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT, 
 
 PREFIXED TO THE THIRD EDI- 
 TION, PUBLISHED AT EDIN- 
 BURCxH, IN 1780. 
 
 XHE author of these Essays and 
 Meditations was a Layman, eminent 
 in his profession, and exemplary in 
 his life. After the most diligent 
 and successful practice of physic, 
 for more than twenty-six years, 
 (but long before the advance of 
 age, with its usual appendages, 
 had disabled him to continue that 
 practice) he resolved upon giving 
 up the hurry of business, that he 
 
Vlll 
 
 might find more leisure to mind 
 the important concerns of another 
 world, (or, as he was wont to ex- 
 press it) " to think of where he 
 was going." 
 
 That this resolution was delibe- 
 rately formed, upon serious con- 
 sideration of the duty, the diffi- 
 culties, and consequences of such 
 recess, appears, not only from the 
 first of those Essays, but from his 
 conduct afterwards ; for, in the 
 last ten years of his life, he de- 
 clined being employed as a phy- 
 sician, save only to them, whose 
 narrow circumstances forbid their 
 access to the best advice, and 
 proper medicines, both which they 
 were sure to find with him, at no 
 
expence.— How he spent this re- 
 tirement, may be concluded from 
 the following papers, now printed 
 from his own manuscript. — He left 
 no direct order for making them 
 public, only desired they might be 
 put into my hands in the event of 
 his death : But, as it has been 
 observed, that the works of some 
 laymen, (Paschal, Boyle, Nelson, 
 Addison, Forbes, &c.) on the side 
 of religion, have been more at- 
 tended to, and read with less pre- 
 judice, than those of many among 
 the clergy, to the same good pur- 
 pose ; I thought the publication of 
 them was a duty incumbent on me, 
 in an age when such assistances 
 are wanted. 
 
Had the self-denial of this ex- 
 cellent person allowed his name to 
 be prefixed to these papers, it 
 would have quickened the demand 
 for them, and rendered the pre- 
 fixing of this advertisement unne- 
 cessary by the 
 
 EDITOR. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Essay Page 
 
 I. On Retirement from Business, 1 
 
 II. On Old Age - - - 23 
 III. A Dream, or, On the Em- 
 ployment of the Soul 
 after Death - - 57 
 
 Meditation I. On the Day far 
 
 spent - - - 85 
 
 II. On the Examination of the 
 
 Heart - - - 89 
 
 III. Of Man's Interest in the 
 
 Perfections of the Deity 92 
 
 IV. Of the Vanity of Riches, 
 
 Honour, and Sensual 
 
 Pleasures, compared 
 
 with Piety and Virtue - 98 
 
 V. Of Time - - -105 
 
 VI. Of Friendship - - 110 
 
 VII. Of a Future State - - 114 
 
 VIII. Of conquering Ourselves 122 
 
IX. Of Repentance - -131 
 
 X. Of Heaven - - -141 
 
 XI. Of Prayer - - -145 
 
 XII. Of the Works of Creation 
 
 and Providence - - 155 
 
 XIII. Of several Vices which 
 
 Men are daily guilty of 161 
 
 XIV. Of Christianity - - 176 
 
ESSAYS, &c. 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 OF RETIREMENT FROM BUSINESS. 
 
 oOME authors have beautifully de- 
 scribed the charms of retirement, and 
 the happiness of those who are masters 
 of their own time, and can employ it in 
 works and contemplations, suitable to 
 the duty and dignity of a rational being', 
 who must give an account of his actions. 
 Others again, better acquainted with 
 the human heart, have declaimed warm- 
 ly against retirement, appealing to daily 
 experience, which shews, that all who 
 quitted business, soon had reason to re- 
 pent of their rashness, as having, in 
 effect, condemned themselves to perpe- 
 tual gloominess and melancholy. 
 
2 ESSAY I. 
 
 As those authors have viewed retire- 
 ment in different lights,, we need not 
 wonder that their sentiments about it 
 are so different. There is no doubt, 
 that most of those who did retire from 
 business,, seem to have been discontent- 
 ed in retirement, and would gladly re- 
 turn to their former employments, could 
 they return with decency ; but it is 
 equally certain, that such unsteady minds 
 had not previously considered how their 
 time was to be filled up, and their 
 thoughts employed in retirement, before 
 they determined to relinquish their re- 
 spective professions or occupations. 
 
 You please yourself, my dear friend, 
 (as perhaps all men in business do), 
 with the hopes of ease and recess in 
 some period of your life ; give me leave, 
 therefore, to offer my opinion of what 
 may be previously necessary to make 
 you happy in that situation. 
 
OF RETIREMENT. 6 
 
 No man ought to retire from business 
 while he has youth and vigour to pursue 
 it. If he retires through indolence, or 
 voluptuousness, besides hurting himself, 
 he is unjust to the community, which 
 cannot subsist comfortably without the 
 mutual labour and aid one of another : 
 and if he retires from a motive of reli- 
 gion toward God, he leaves half the task 
 unperformed for which he was sent into 
 the world, by being useless to his neigh- 
 bours. 
 
 On the other hand, an old man should 
 not, through covetousness, chuse to 
 sink * under the burden of his profes- 
 sion, rather than throw it aside ; but, 
 if his circumstances will give him leave, 
 should decently make his retreat from 
 the busy world, before his faculties are 
 impaired, and he becomes the subject 
 
 * Quintilian tells, with regret, concerning Do- 
 mitius Afer, malle eum deficere quam desinere. 
 
 B 2 
 
'* ESSAY I. 
 
 of censure or ridicule ; and especially, 
 before it be too late, to search and know 
 his own heart ; which is a lesson harder 
 to learn,, and more important, than per- 
 haps he may imagine. 
 
 A man's circumstances ought to be 
 independent before he pretends to quit 
 business, either by being master of a 
 large estate, which will enable him to 
 live in affluence ; or, by levelling his 
 mind to a moderate fortune, and by 
 having such an absolute command over 
 his appetites, that they shall not desire 
 any gratification but what he can in- 
 nocently and conveniently afford. 
 
 The masters of overgrown estates, 
 got in business, rarely know when they 
 have enough ; or, if ever they think of 
 a retreat, it is too commonly from a vain 
 affectation of spending in empty show, 
 and inhospitable grandeur, a small part 
 of what was amassed, perhaps, by ra- 
 
OF RETIREMENT. 5 
 
 pine or parsimony. Such undisciplined 
 minds can form no notion of a wise or 
 virtuous retirement. 
 
 A man of a moderate fortune (for it 
 is to such I write) has several things to 
 consider with respect to himself, and to 
 his connexions in life, before he ven- 
 tures on retirement. He ought, in the 
 first place,, to be so far acquainted with 
 his own heart, as to be fully satisfied 
 that no seeds of covetousness lurk there., 
 which may spring up to his disquiet ; 
 lest^ hy throwing himself out of an em- 
 ployment which added daily to his in- 
 come., his equanimity should stagger, 
 and he should become afraid of poverty, 
 after his gain has run into other chan- 
 nels, and his repentance will avail him 
 nothing. Let him never quit business 
 whose heart is tainted with avarice^ 
 otherwise he will become his family's 
 tormentor, and his own ; and his frantic 
 
6 ESSAY I. 
 
 terrors of imaginary wants will be sure 
 to poison every blessing that he pos- 
 sesses. 
 
 He must,, in the next place, take espe- 
 cial care not to retire on account of any 
 disgust or peevish humour, into which 
 he has been thrown by disappointments 
 or bad usage. If fretfulness should be 
 his inducement to quit business, he 
 must always continue on the fret, other- 
 wise he will lose his relish for retire- 
 ment. No wise man, surely, would 
 build any important resolution upon a 
 transient humour, which may soon 
 change, and leave him to reflect with 
 regret on his rash conduct, when per- 
 haps it is too late to rectify his error. 
 
 He must in the third place consider, 
 that it is not an easy matter to subdue 
 old and stubborn habits. A round of 
 business, in which an industrious man 
 has moved, from morning to night, for 
 
OF RETIREMENT. 7 
 
 many years, in which he knew how to 
 employ every hour of his time, and 
 often thought these hours too short ; 
 such an habitual round, I say, must at 
 last become natural to him. To be, 
 therefore, abruptly thrown out of it by 
 retirement, where every spring* of ac- 
 tion is altered or lost, must disconcert 
 him, and prove irksome. If a man has 
 not previously considered what he was 
 about to do ; if he has not gradually 
 weaned himself from his usual attach- 
 ments; and, above all, if he has not 
 steadily resolved to fill up, with some 
 new employment, every vacuity which 
 the loss of his former business must 
 make in his time, he will, like a fish 
 out of water, pant after his natural ele- 
 ment. Retirement will become like a 
 prison to him ; he 1 knows not how to 
 employ his thoughts; and his mind will 
 grow torpid through inaction. There 
 
8 ESSAY I. 
 
 is now no passion to rouse him,, no pre- 
 sent gain to allure him,, no variety to 
 engage his attention as formerly, and 
 no pleasing intercourse with persons 
 conversant in the same studies, or assi- 
 duous in the same pursuits, to soothe or 
 relieve him. Every moment therefore 
 feels tedious to him, and he falls insen- 
 sibly into a dejection of spirits, which, 
 by precluding the hopes of good, and 
 magnifying the apprehensions of evil, 
 renders him completely wretched. This 
 is a rock that some wise and good men 
 have struck on, though, by a little pre- 
 vious reflection, it might have been 
 easily avoided ; for I was well acquaint- 
 ed with an old man retired from busi- 
 ness, whose time was so regularly em- 
 ployed, that, when any unusual occur- 
 rence broke in upon his little scheme 
 (as he called it), he thought himself ob- 
 liged to quicken his diligence next day, 
 
OF RETIREMENT. 9 
 
 in order to recover the hours he had lost 
 by that interruption. 
 
 But besides judging deliberately of 
 his power over his own appetites, pas- 
 sions, and habits, a man must likewise 
 attend to his connexions in life. If he 
 has children, it is dangerous to quit bu- 
 siness, because, in case of unforeseen 
 misfortunes, they must be involved in 
 his difficulties, though they have not 
 his firmness to support them. If he has 
 a wife, he should never retire without 
 her deliberate approbation of his de- 
 sign, and without an equal disposition 
 in her to contentment and resignation 
 in all events : For suppose him to have 
 any humanity, her sufferings (should 
 any happen) must afflict him more than 
 his own, especially if he has prevailed 
 with her, against her inclination, to put 
 her patience to so severe a trial. Nay, 
 if a man has relations of merit who de- 
 
10 ESSAY r. 
 
 pend upon him, humanity requires (in 
 case his estate be not sufficient to main- 
 tain them and himself) that he should 
 defer his retirement, until he can settle 
 them in a rational way of maintaining 
 themselves by their own industry. 
 
 Lastly, with regard to one's old com- 
 panions and neighbours, it must be con- 
 sidered, that as interest is the strongest 
 band of union and good will among 
 men, so he, whose profession is any way 
 beneficial to his neighbours, will be sure 
 to possess their esteem ; but when once 
 he has relinquished that employment, 
 which was the source of the respect 
 paid him, he must expect to be slighted 
 by those whose interest alone induced 
 them to caress him. Such neglect may 
 at first, indeed, give some uneasiness to 
 a generous and disinterested mind ; but 
 that uneasiness will soon be removed, 
 when one reflects that it is no small 
 
OF RETIREMENT. H 
 
 pleasure to have an opportunity of dis- 
 tinguishing real from pretended friend- 
 ships ; and that the coldness of narrow 
 hearty which mind only their own par- 
 ticular interest, deserves rather to be 
 pitied than resented. 
 
 Let us now take a view of the other 
 side, and suppose that a man has been 
 guilty of no previous imprudence with 
 regard to his intended retreat, and that 
 he has laid down a proper plan for the 
 employment of his time. In such a 
 case, retirement should be a delightful 
 situation, at least to old age. A recess 
 from the fatigue, anxiety, dissipation, 
 and disappointments which attend busi- 
 ness, and which had so long prevented 
 his attention to things of still greater 
 moment ; an exemption from tempta- 
 tions to envy, fraud, flattery, dissimula- 
 tion, intemperance, and revenge ; and 
 in their stead, to enjoy a serenity of 
 
\2 ESSAY I. 
 
 mind, undisturbed by the false pursuits,, 
 impertinencies, insincerity, and snares 
 of a busy life ; and to have leisure for 
 recollection and amendment : if a man 
 has a just regard to the longest part of 
 his duration, such a change should make 
 him happy. 
 
 But though several vices may be 
 avoided by retirement, there still re- 
 main many to be conquered, which are 
 ready to intrude upon that state ; and 
 many virtues to be cultivated, sufficient 
 to give us full employment for every 
 day of our lives, if we carefully attend 
 * to them. 1 shall, for a specimen, name 
 only two of each sort: of the vices, 
 peevishness and sloth ; and of the vir- 
 . tues, resignation and beneficence. 
 
 Among the vices apt to haunt retire- 
 ment, is peevishness. When a man 
 stands no longer in need of his friends 
 towards carrying on his affairs with sue- 
 
OP RETIREMENT. 13 
 
 cess, he often loses that complaisance 
 which made him formerly agreeable, and 
 sometimes contracts a fretfulness and 
 moroseness of temper, which grow upon 
 him by indulgence. Instead of comply- 
 ing with others in their innocent humours 
 or amusements, he studies only to please 
 himself. He discovers a dogmatical 
 sufficiency, and a bluntness in his con- 
 versation and behaviour, which, increas- 
 ing by degrees, render him at last odious 
 to his former companions, and insup- 
 portable to his own family, where the 
 storm falls heaviest. But how ungene- 
 rous and indecent is it to indulge such a 
 habit ! Is it not both mean and impru- 
 dent to exasperate those who study to 
 please us ? Is there no gratitude due for 
 benefits we have received ? Do we cease 
 to be social creatures, because we have 
 quitted business? What true satisfac- 
 tion can remain to him whose rusticity 
 
14 ESSAY I. 
 
 has driven all his disinterested friends 
 away ? That soul must be savage indeed, 
 which feels no joy in pleasing others. 
 And though we should suppose a peevish 
 or morose man to be in other respects vir- 
 tuous ; yet still such a cynical virtue has 
 much fewer charms than that which is 
 attended with a mutual intercourse of 
 humanity and good humour, and gives a 
 relish to all our other blessings. 
 
 Another error ready to creep into our 
 retreat, is sloth. When a man thinks 
 that he has made a comfortable provision 
 for old age, and finds himself no longer 
 obliged to toil for his daily subsistence,, 
 he is apt to fall from his former hurry, 
 into the contrary extreme of sloth and 
 indolence, to rise late, and to lay exercise 
 aside. But to this conduct, without 
 calling in any moral consideration, we 
 need only oppose health ; for he who, 
 from much exercise in the course of his 
 
OF RETIREMENT. 15 
 
 business, sinks into laziness and indo- 
 lence, will most certainly impair his 
 health, and shorten his days. The 
 humours which were kept in circulation 
 by exercise, will stagnate and grow 
 acrimonious by sloth, and bring on such 
 complaints as must make his life miser- 
 able. Reason and experience verify this 
 observation, and he who thinks other- 
 wise, will soon be brought to conviction 
 by his distempers. 
 
 Of the virtues to be practised in re- 
 tirement, I have also named two, resig- 
 nation and beneficence ; each * of which 
 
 * Though resignation is amiable and useful in 
 every condition of life, it is more particularly so 
 in retirement ; because in case of unexpected 
 losses, you have no resource but in this virtue ; 
 whereas, while you continue in business, you may 
 repair your fortune by increasing your diligence. 
 
 Beneficence also should be more deeply rooted 
 in the heart, after a man has retreated, than it was 
 before, lest he should think the diminution of his 
 income, from laying down his employment, a good 
 
16 ESSAY I. 
 
 is difficult to be attained, and yet ex- 
 tremely conducive to happiness. It is 
 not easy to acquire a habit of resignation 
 to the divine will ; for when we have 
 formed our own schemes, as we imagine, 
 with prudence and caution, we conclude, 
 that they ought to succeed according to 
 our wishes; and, if they miscarry, we 
 are apt to murmur at the dispensations 
 of Providence, and think our fate hard ; 
 though it frequently happens that, had 
 they taken effect, we must inevitably 
 have been ruined. But can any thing 
 be more agreeable to right reason, more 
 becoming weak and ignorant creatures, 
 such as we are, or more conducive to 
 
 apology for diminishing his charity, which is no 
 apology at all ; for a man is obliged to do full as 
 much good in a voluntary retirement as he did in 
 business, and has no right to let his retreat injure 
 those who depend upon his assistance, how neces- 
 sary soever he may find it to deny himself some 
 gratifications. 
 
OF RETIREMENT. 17 
 
 our peace of mind, than an entire 
 resignation to the disposal of that Being, 
 who has infinite wisdom to contrive, 
 infinite power to execute, and infinite 
 goodness to direct whatever can relate 
 to our happiness. Most certain it is, 
 that he loses the highest felicity which 
 can be enjoyed on earth, who does 
 not, with a cheerful acquiescence, rely 
 on the supreme Being, and, with a 
 thankful heart, acknowledge his per- 
 petual mercies. 
 
 Beneficence likewise is a virtue diffi- 
 cult to be attained, because our sympathy 
 with people in distress is painful to us, 
 and the assistance we propose to give 
 them may cost us labour, time, or 
 money ; and the more extensive one's 
 charity is, the greater still is the trouble 
 and expence attending it. But the ex- 
 pediency of this virtue is manifest ; for 
 since we must have some intercourse with 
 c 
 
18 ESSAY I. 
 
 mankind as long as we live, and since 
 no man knows whether he may not him- 
 self stand in need of help before he 
 leaves the world, we cannot in justice 
 or decency expect kindness from others, 
 unless we are ready to shew kindness 
 in our turn. Love and be beloved, 
 is a maxim established by every man's 
 experience. And the great Father of 
 the universe, who knows that, of all his 
 creatures, we should be the most miser- 
 able without the reciprocal aid of one 
 another, has, for our own interest, com- 
 manded us to love our neighbours as 
 ourselves. 
 
 Besides, as we can make no recom- 
 pence to God for his continual favours 
 to us, we should shew our gratitude to 
 him by our kindness to his creatures, 
 and be glad, at his desire, and for his 
 sake, to do all the good we can to our 
 neighbour. 
 
OF RETIREMENT. 19 
 
 Having thus lightly touched upon a 
 few of the many virtues we ought to 
 cultivate, and the many errors we ought 
 to avoid in retirement, 1 shall only add 
 a very short sketch of the proper em- 
 ployment of every day, to prevent our 
 minds from growing torpid, our health 
 from being impaired, and our hours 
 from becoming tedious to us, through 
 inaction. 
 
 Let him who has retired from busi- 
 ness employ some thoughts every morn- 
 ing early in recollecting his past life, in 
 mending his heart, and in preparing 
 himself after such a manner as may give 
 him hopes of meeting with a gracious 
 reception at that awful tribunal, where, 
 by the course of nature, he must soon 
 appear. Let him, in the next place, do 
 something in his own profession, accord' 
 ing to his capacity, and the opportunities 
 of improvement which he has had., allow* 
 
20 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 ing no day to pass away without draw- 
 ing (in imitation of Apelles) at least one 
 line ; and let him always commit the 
 result of his thoughts to writing, that 
 he may have recourse to it when he 
 pleases, and not be obliged either to 
 redouble his labour, or lose what he 
 has acquired, when his memory may 
 chance to be impaired. Let him then 
 (if the weather will permit) ride * or 
 walk abroad to partake of those rural 
 pleasures which so greatly contribute to 
 health of body and vigour of mind. 
 What can gratify a man's senses or 
 reason more, than to view the various 
 productions of the fields, and to con- 
 template the wonderful contrivance of 
 Providence in their gradual increase, 
 
 * See the charming description which the 
 younger Pliny gives of the uninterrupted regula- 
 rity of Spurinna, whom he proposes for his model, 
 if ever he should arrive at old age. Epist. i. lib. 3. 
 
OP RETIREMENT. 21 
 
 from the opening seed to the perfect 
 plant ? What amazing variety of inimi- 
 table beauties does the florist discern in 
 the hyacinth, the tulip, the ranunculus, 
 auricula and polyanthus ; and in other 
 flowers of the different seasons. Or if 
 he chuses to raise his eye from those 
 smaller objects to the great works of 
 nature, what can fill the soul with a 
 more awful idea of the Author of our 
 being, and with a greater complacency 
 in his protection, than the magnificent 
 rirospects of hills, lawns, and rivers ; 
 mountains, seas, and forests ; with the 
 august view of the heavens ; most of 
 which one may behold from many de- 
 lightful spots in Great Britain. But if 
 he cannot go abroad, let him, withki 
 doors, employ himself in some bodily 
 exercise, of which a great variety may 
 be contrived. After this is done, he 
 may spend the remainder of the day in 
 
%% ESSAY I. 
 
 visiting and obliging his neighbours., or 
 in such innocent recreations and amuse- 
 ments as may be most agreeable to his 
 taste ; and then close the evening as he 
 began the morning. 
 
 In a word, let him be careful to keep 
 his mind fully and rationally employed 
 for the present, and his prospect serene 
 for the future. But, to prevent the 
 loss of that health which gives a relish 
 to all other enjoyments, let him not 
 neglect the practice of temperance and 
 daily exercise. 
 
23 
 
 ESSAY II. 
 
 OF OLD AGE. 
 
 Old Age may be distinguished into 
 three periods. The first may be called 
 vigorous or green old age, and may, 
 in good constitutions, be supposed to 
 extend from sixty to seventy. The 
 second may be called declining or 
 stooping old age, and may be supposed 
 to reach from seventy to fourscore. 
 And the third period, which (unless the 
 constitution is extraordinarily good) 
 may justly be termed decrepit or help- 
 less old age, creeps on from fourscore 
 to the conclusion of life. When there- 
 
34? ESSAY II. 
 
 ■* 
 
 fore we speak of the happiness or 
 dignity of old age, we generally take 
 in no more than the two periods from 
 sixty to fourscore : for (as we shall 
 observe in the sequel) to desire an ex- 
 treme old age, or immortality on earth, 
 in the present condition of human na- 
 ture, would be the most absurd wish 
 that ever was conceived ; and, if ob- 
 tained, the most pernicious. 
 
 How invaluable a blessing is a virtu- 
 ous, cheerful, and healthy old age, when 
 the judgment, arrived at full maturity, 
 displays more strength and beauty than 
 ever it did before ! But such a felicity 
 is not common ; and therefore some 
 of the ancients would not allow old 
 age to be any better * than a middle 
 state between health and sickness, while 
 
 * Equidem senectus nee omnino morbus est, 
 nee integra omnino sanitas. Galen de partib. art. 
 medic, cap. v. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 25 
 
 others called it the most odious * and 
 wretched period of human life. 
 
 How shall these different opinions be 
 reconciled ? The truth is, some con- 
 stitutions are naturally so infirm from 
 their infancy , that scarce could iEscula- 
 pius himself (to use Galen's phrasef) 
 keep them alive to threescore. If such 
 constitution should, by extreme care, 
 sometimes live to grow old, their age, 
 like their youth, must be subject to 
 many complaints, and may properly 
 enough be called a middle state be- 
 tween health and sickness. It is also 
 true, that accidental violence may render 
 age, as well as youth, unhappy. But 
 
 * Plerisque sic odiosa est senectus, ut onus se 
 iEtna gravius dicant sustinere. Gato apud Cicer. 
 de senect. 
 
 f Sunt enim, qui ab ipso ortu adeo improspero 
 sunt corporis statu, ut ne, si iEsculapium quidem 
 ipsum iis praefeceris, vel sexagesimum annum 
 videant. De san. tuend. lib. i. cap. 12. ver. Latin. 
 
26 ESSAY II. 
 
 when we consider old age singly, and 
 apart from those contingent circum- 
 stances, we shall find that the distress 
 incident to that period arises, for the 
 most part, from the fault of the man, 
 and not of his years ; and that the riot- 
 ousness or imprudence * of youth or 
 
 * One sort of imprudence, innocent indeed and 
 bewitching, but fatal to a tender constitution, is a 
 too eager and assiduous application to study. Pity 
 it is, that a vigorous mind should harass a delicate 
 body, and give it no respite, until worn out by 
 excessive fatigue, in a few years, it sinks under 
 the yoke, and (if I may use that expression) 
 crushes the mind in its fall ; whereas, in a mode- 
 rate pursuit of knowledge, both body and mind 
 might have continued cheerful and healthy to old 
 age. Thus fell, lamented by all that had the good 
 fortune to know him, * * * *, after he had broke 
 his constitution by studying fourteen hours of 
 almost every day for several years. He was in- 
 deed justly admired for his immense literature, 
 and for the candour and probity of his heart, 
 which was open and frank, without the least 
 tincture of ostentation or sufficiency. How warm 
 was his friendship, and how ready to communi- 
 
OF OLD AGE. 27 
 
 manhood (if Ihey do not destroy life 
 in its prime) commonly sow the seeds 
 V?hich gradually grow up and afflict 
 old age. Such afflictions,, therefore, 
 ought to be charged on the vices and 
 errors from which they sprung, and 
 not imputed as the necessary conse- 
 quence of age, which is often free 
 from them. 
 
 It is equally unjust to impute such 
 evils to what is called a man's hard fate 
 or misfortune * ; for, generally speak- 
 
 cate ! But why should a good man shorten his 
 days in the pursuit of any science ? A vain and 
 transient fame, after he is gone, will make him no 
 recompence. And when he shall mingle with 
 superior spirits, he will soon perceive how small, 
 comparatively, was all that treasure of knowledge 
 which he took so much pains to accumulate. 
 
 * Homer introduces Jupiter, complaining that 
 men accuse the gods for misfortunes which their 
 own folly h rings upon them : 
 
 totes C§otoi mrtoanr»i 9 &c Odyss. lib. I. 32. 
 
 Perverse 
 
28 ESSAY II. 
 
 ing, that is but a softer name for his 
 misconduct. In like manner, * pee- 
 vishness, avarice, and censoriousness, 
 with which age is reproached, should 
 be ascribed to men's bad morals, and 
 not to their years ; since we daily see 
 young persons who are fretful and co- 
 vetous, and old people who are com- 
 plaisant and generous to a high degree. 
 And though it must be allowed that 
 some old men, contrary to all the dic- 
 tates of reason and religion, persist in 
 these vices, it must be also confessed, 
 that the propensity towards them ap- 
 peared early in life, and did not com- 
 mence with its last stages. Let us sup- 
 
 Perverse mankind ! whose wills created free, 
 
 Charge all their woes on absolute decree ; 
 
 All to the dooming" gods their guilt translate, 
 
 And follies are miscall 'd the crimes of fate. Broom. 
 
 * duaerit, et inventis miser abstinet, et timet uti. 
 
 Difficilis, querulus 
 
 —censor, castigatorque minorum. Hor. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 29 
 
 pose an old man of good stamina., unhurt 
 by former excesses of any kind,, and train- 
 ed up in a virtuous course from which 
 he has rarely deviated ; can we call him 
 wretched ? * So far from it, that such a 
 man, by observing a few necessary 
 rules with regard to his health, may 
 enjoy a larger share of happiness than 
 ever he did before. Nay, some great 
 geniuses of antiquity went so far, as 
 to affirm that old men were particular 
 favourites of heaven. + 
 
 In Cicero's admirable treatise De 
 Senectute, we read of a multitude of 
 great men among the Romans, whose 
 age was highly useful to their country, 
 and pleasant to themselves. If we be- 
 
 * Profecto videtis, nefas esse dictu, miseram 
 fuisse talem senectutem. Cic. de senect. 
 
 ■\ 'AQt&votloi ti(aw<ti 'jroiXxior^eq owfywims, Iliad, 
 xxiii. lin. 788. 
 
 Th' immortal gods revere a good old man. 
 
30 ESSAY II. 
 
 lieve Cornaro (and there is no reason 
 to suspect his veracity), no period of life 
 could be more delightful than his age 
 was. But Cornaro, you will say, lived 
 over abstemiously and precisely, eating 
 and drinking by weight and measure, 
 which is a servitude too mean and 
 selfish to be undergone for the sake of 
 a transient life, that, with all our care, 
 cannot be stretched to any considerable 
 duration. I will allow, that Cornaro's 
 scrupulous regularity was well adapted 
 to his delicate and slender frame ; but 
 then his method of living is by no 
 means necessary, or proper to be imi- 
 tated by those of a more vigorous con- 
 stitution. The late excellent bishop of 
 Worcester, Doctor Hough, eat flesh 
 meat sufficient to satisfy his appetite ; 
 and drank some wine and strong 
 beer every day ; and yet lived in good 
 health and spirits, with the perfect use 
 
OF OLD AGE. 31 
 
 of all his limbs and senses,, to ninety 
 three,, and upwards. As to his mental 
 faculties, they seemed to be rather im- 
 proved than impaired by time. Dis- 
 tinguished as he was by the bene- 
 volence of his heart, he was no less 
 so by his polite accomplishments,, and 
 a peculiar elegance and dignity ap- 
 peared in all he did and said, to the 
 last moment of his amiable life. 
 
 How august and awful is the view 
 that Philologus * of Ravenna gives us 
 of several Venetian senators, every one 
 at least an hundred years old, who 
 frequently appeared in public together, 
 in his younger days; venerable with 
 their white locks and magnificent robes, 
 attracting almost the adoration of the 
 beholders. This was the lovely effect, 
 says our author, of moderation and tem- 
 
 * De vita homin. ultra centum viginti an. pro- 
 ducenda. 
 
32 ESSAY II. 
 
 perance, which he never expected to see 
 again, since luxury and avarice had un- 
 happily gained so great an ascendant, 
 that, in his latter days, scarcely did one 
 noble Venetian appear in public, who 
 had arrived to the age of ninety. 
 
 You will tell me, perhaps, that these 
 gentlemen, and the Romans extolled 
 by Cicero, were rich and powerful, 
 which made their age respectable ; but 
 how shall age and poverty be supported 
 together ? Cicero assures us that the 
 poet Ennius * supported himself under 
 both with great magnanimity. Virgil's 
 old Corcyrian + gardener was as happy 
 as a king. Many of the ancient phi- 
 losophers lived cheerfully under a load 
 
 * Ita ferebat duo, quae maxima putantur onera, 
 paupertatem et senectutem, ut eis pene delectari 
 videretur. Cic. de senect. 
 
 . -j- Regum aequabat opes animis. Geor. 4. lin. 
 132. 
 
OF OLD AGE. S3 
 
 of years and poverty, declaring 1 , that if 
 their wealth was small, their wants 
 were still smaller. And surely, it was 
 not owing to their riches or power, 
 that the first hermits,, who retired from 
 the world to avoid persecution, lived so 
 long and so serenely in their desarts. 
 
 Would you know these companions 
 of age, which make it happy in poverty 
 as well as in wealth, their names are 
 Virtue, useful Learning, and Health . To 
 possess virtue in old age, a man must 
 have been, from his infancy, trained 
 up in the constant practice thereof. 
 The neglect of early discipline is the 
 great and fatal error that so frequently 
 makes youth stubborn, manhood worth- 
 less, and age miserable. If parents (ac- 
 cording to the excellent advice of Mr. 
 Locke)* would accustom their children, 
 
 * See his book on Education, 
 D 
 
34 ESSAY II. 
 
 from their first dawn of reason, to 
 controul their appetites and passions, 
 and do always what is right, in spite 
 of their inclination to the contrary, a 
 short time would jmake them find the 
 road to virtue smooth and easy. And 
 if they would farther teach their children 
 this grand and important secret, viz. 
 That to learn early to contract * and 
 lessen their wants, would bestow more 
 real happiness and contentment than to 
 increase their riches ; such instructions 
 would lay the first and most solid foun- 
 dation for the future felicity of their 
 children. But when parents, through 
 indulgence or inadvertency, have neg- 
 lected proper discipline early, the 
 children themselves, as soon as they 
 are capable of reflection, should culti- 
 
 * Si ad liaturam vives, nunquam eris pauper ; 
 si ad opinio' lem, nunquam eris dives. Epicur. 
 apud Senec. opist. 16. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 35 
 
 vate temperance,, abstinence, and every 
 other virtue, which are indispensably 
 necessary to their present and future 
 happiness. 
 
 As to erudition, or useful learning, 
 the second concomitant of age that con- 
 tributes to render it happy : It must be 
 allowed, that youth is the proper time 
 to sow the seeds of learning at our 
 schools and universities; but age is 
 the season when its noblest fruits are 
 gathered, and when the want of it is 
 most sensibly felt and deplored. Dur- 
 ing the ardour of youth, or vigour of 
 manhood, the mind may find some en- 
 tertainment in the exercise and occu- 
 pation of the body; but when youth 
 and vigour are gone, reading becomes 
 a wonderful consolation to age. All 
 the treasures of the antients, in those 
 valuable branches of knowledge wherein 
 they excelled; all the subsequent' im« 
 d 2 
 
36 ESSAY II. 
 
 provements of the moderns,, in many 
 useful articles of the arts and sciences ; 
 the various achievements and customs 
 of mankind^ in the different ages and 
 nations of the earth ; their remarkable 
 virtues , vices, and examples : all these 
 are lost to the man of no erudition. 
 The noble entertainment arising from 
 such knowledge, to fill up the vacuities 
 of his time, which otherwise would be 
 gloomy and tedious, affords a plea- 
 sure * that neither riches nor honours 
 can bestow. How vile and pitiful, 
 therefore, is the disposition of those 
 parents, who^ by neglecting to give 
 their children a proper education, when 
 it is in their power, deprive them of 
 this inestimable source of consolation ! 
 
 * Est etiam quiete, et pure, et eleganter actae 
 aetatis placida ac lenis senectus, qualem accepimus 
 Platonis, qui uno et octogesimo aetatis anno scrip 
 bens mortuus est. Cic. de senectute. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 37 
 
 But when this happens to be the case,, 
 a man must endeavour to supply the 
 defect of education by his own industry, 
 which sometimes makes a wonderful 
 proficiency. 
 
 The third companion necessary to 
 make age comfortable., is health. This 
 is principally secured by an early habit 
 and daily practice of temperance ; 
 by an assiduous use of moderate ex- 
 ercise ; by carefully forbearing and 
 avoiding what they find from expe- 
 rience to disagree with them ; by re- 
 moving all impediments to the sound- 
 ness of their sleep ; by keeping the 
 necessary discharges of the body regular 
 with the help of art, when nature,, at 
 any time, fails in that office ; and,, lastly, 
 by making their company agreeable 
 to,, and courted by,, the young and 
 sprightly. 
 
 But allowing that these companions 
 
38 ESSAY II. 
 
 may attend us in our last stages, and 
 that old age, for the most part, is vir- 
 tuous, learned, and healthful ; yet still 
 there seem to be several grievances be- 
 longing to that period, which neither 
 nature nor art can redress. The an- 
 tients, as well as the moderns, differ in 
 their sentiments concerning old age. 
 Horace * has drawn a hideous picture 
 
 * Multa senem circumveniunt incommoda ; vel quod 
 Quaerit, et inventis miser abstinet, ac timet uti ; 
 Vel quod res omnes timide gelideque ministrat : 
 Dilator, spe lentus, iners, avidusque futuri, 
 Difficilis, querulus, laudator temporis acti 
 Se puero, censor castigatorque minorum. Hob. 
 
 Old men are only walking hospitals, 
 Where all defects and all diseases crowd : 
 Oppress'd with riches which they dare not use ; 
 In all their actions lazy, timid, cold ; 
 Hopeless, morose, full of delays and fears ; 
 But eager to protract a wretched life : 
 111 natur'd censors of the present age, 
 And fond of all the follies of the past. 
 
 Earl of Roscommon. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 39 
 
 of it ; but Cicero * a most amiable one. 
 Originals of both pictures are, no doubt, 
 still to be found ; but most, I hope, of 
 the amiable kind, especially where men's 
 own folly or vice has not been the cause 
 of their misfortune. 
 
 We shall here collect, into one point 
 of view, the most material grievances 
 with which old age is said to be op- 
 pressed, and examine whether or no 
 there is any reasonable foundation for 
 such complaints. 
 
 It is objected then, that age renders 
 the body feeble, + and unfit for great 
 actions. It deprives men of the plea- 
 
 * See Cicero's elegant treatise De Senectute. 
 
 f Reperio quatuor causas, cur senectus misera 
 videatur : unam, quod avocet a rebus agendis ; 
 alteram, quod corpus faciat infirmius; tertiam, 
 quod privet omnibus fere voluptatibus ; quartam, 
 quod haud procul absit a morte. Cic. de sen. 
 
40 ESSAY II. 
 
 sures * of youth. It exposes them to 
 sudden and various illnesses from cold, 
 heat, or other accidents. It is more 
 obnoxious to contempt and ridicule 
 than any other period. It stands often 
 single and lonely, without any sup- 
 port, bereaved of children, relations, 
 and friends ; having outlived the com- 
 panions of youth, and being unable for 
 new connections. Lastly, old age is 
 alarmed and disquieted with the appre- 
 hensions of approaching death. 
 
 As to the first objection; it is not 
 always true, that age renders men 
 unfit for great actions. Abraham was 
 eighty years old when he beat the four 
 kings near Damascus. Moses was 
 above an hundred f when he led the 
 
 * Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes, 
 Eripuere joeos, venerera, convivia, ludura. 
 
 Hor. epistolar. lib. 2. 
 
 f Deuter. xxxiv. 17. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 41 
 
 armies of Israel through the wilderness. 
 And Caleb, the son of Jephunneh, says 
 of himself, c< Forty * years old was I 
 " when Moses the servant of the Lord 
 c ' sent me to espy out the land ; and 
 <e now lo, I am at this day fourscore 
 <c and five years old, and yet I am as 
 cc strong at this day for war, both to go 
 ee out and to come in, as I was in the day 
 cc that Moses sent me." Besides, great 
 actions are not performed by extraor- 
 dinary strength of body, but by ex- 
 perience, wisdom, courage, and other 
 endowments belonging properly to the 
 mind. The champions of old, so re- 
 nowned for strength of sinews, with 
 their massy clubs, and seven-fold shields, 
 would at present make but a poor 
 figure in a battle, or at a siege, against 
 muskets and artillery ; and, even in 
 
 * See Josh. chap. xiv. 
 
42 ESSAY II. 
 
 ancient times, Cicero remarks, that 
 though Ajax was much more robust 
 than Nestor, yet the Grecian general 
 says nothing of the former, but avows, 
 that if he had ten such as Nestor * 
 in his army, he should soon demo- 
 lish Troy. The strength of old men 
 consists in their authority, prudence, 
 and capacity, to direct those who 
 are younger and more robust. It 
 would be endless to recount all the in- 
 stances recorded in history, of old men 
 who saved their country from ruin by 
 their courage, experience, and fore- 
 sight. Surely the architect who plans 
 the building, and directs the work, is 
 not less useful than he who hews the 
 stones, or tempers the mortar. Add 
 to this, that if old men have lost the 
 vigour and agility of youth, they have 
 
 * Vid. Homer's Iliad, lib. 2, lin. 370, et seq. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 43 
 
 also, generally speaking, lost their re- 
 lish for feats of activity; and do or 
 should take delight in the nobler and 
 more useful exercise of the understand- 
 ing, especially in the practice # of doing 
 good. 
 
 It is objected, in the second place, 
 that age is robbed of the pleasures of 
 youth. If by the pleasures of youth 
 you mean the gratification of voluptu- 
 ousness, it is no great unhappiness to 
 be deprived of such pleasures. The 
 eagerness of men to indulge themselves 
 in unlawful pleasures, has been at all 
 times, and in all nations > the strongest 
 
 P Aptissima omnino sunt arma senectutis, artes, 
 exercitationesque virtutum, quae in omni aetate 
 cultae, cum diu multumque vixeris, mirificos effe- 
 runt fructus ; non solum quia nusquam deserunt, 
 ne in extremo quidem tempore aetatis, verum 
 etiam quia conscientia bene actae vitae, multorum- 
 que benefactor urn recordatio, jucundissima est. 
 Cic. de senect. 
 
44 essay ir a 
 
 incitement to fraud and violence ; and 
 shall that period of life be reckoned the 
 most unfortunate, which has the least 
 relish for the cause of so much mischief, 
 and weans us from those appetites which 
 reason could not controul ? If stews 
 and bagnios are not frequented at that 
 time. of life, are not the loathsome and 
 painful diseases that attend lewdness al- 
 so avoided ? Is temperance an enemy to 
 happiness ? or has ever any man suf- 
 fered in his health, fortune, or reputa- 
 tion, on account of his sobriety ? Again, 
 if old people are secluded from the 
 pleasures of youth, they have pleasures 
 suited to their taste, which make them 
 ample amends. Planting, building, and 
 improvements in agriculture, supply 
 them with a perpetual source of enter- 
 tainment. Is not the reading of history, 
 poetry, natural and moral philosophy, 
 an inexhaustible fund of instruction 
 
OF OLD AGE. 45 
 
 and amusement ? And what shall I say 
 of the Sacred Scriptures^ where they 
 may find so many inimitable sublimities 
 and beauties,, both in the style and sen- 
 timent, that it is difficult to determine, 
 whether the intelligent scholar will be 
 more charmed with the prose of Moses 
 and the New Testament,* or with the 
 poetry f of Job., David, and Isaiah. 
 Have not old people the grandeur, 
 variety, and sweetness of rural scenes 
 and prospects to give them delight ? 
 And can they not do good, if they 
 please, which alone surpasses all the 
 gratifications of irregular appetites ? 
 
 The third argument, that, in an ad- 
 vanced age, every slight accident ex- 
 poses men to some sudden illness, comes 
 next to be considered. It is true, that 
 
 * See Blackwell's Sacred Classics, 
 f Vid. D, Lowth de poesi Hebraica. 
 
46 ESSAY II. 
 
 thoughtless old people are more liable 
 to inconveniences from any sudden 
 change- in diet, weather, and various 
 other incidents, than healthy young 
 people, because their strength is im- 
 paired;* but it is equally true, that 
 their greater experience and knowledge 
 should teach them to guard against 
 those inconveniences. If, for instance, 
 an old man, heated with exercise of any 
 kind, shall expose his body suddenly to 
 the cold air, or drink any small liquor 
 cold to quench his thirst, he will pro- 
 bably throw himself into some present 
 illness. But is there an old man on 
 earth, endowed with common sense, 
 who does not know from the sad expe- 
 rience of others, or his own, that he 
 endangers his health by committing so 
 gross an error ? In such a case, there- 
 
 * Accedunt anni, et tractari mollius aetas 
 Imbecilla volet. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 4? 
 
 fore,, we ought to call the sufferer rather 
 foolish than unfortunate. In short, we 
 shall find, upon a fair calculation, that 
 the giddiness and inexperience of our 
 early days render us obnoxious to seve- 
 ral illnesses, which the care and caution 
 of advanced life have taught us to pre- 
 vent; and that, upon a just balance, the 
 vigour and rashness of youth suffer more 
 from external accidents than the debility 
 and sedateness of age. 
 
 In answer to the fourth objection, 
 which alledges that old people are more 
 exposed to contempt and ridicule than 
 the younger sort, as their comeliness, 
 which once made them amiable, is lost, 
 and their strength is impaired, which 
 defended them from insults : I will 
 allow, that a wicked and debauched old 
 age does and ought to meet with con- 
 tempt and ridicule ; and, indeed, no 
 creature can be more despicable or in- 
 
48 ESSAY II. 
 
 famous, than a decrepit old fellow af- 
 fecting the vices of youth, and corrupt- 
 ing others by his nauseous gallantries, 
 and vile example. But, on the other 
 hand, it is well known, that an useful 
 and virtuous age never meets with any 
 reproach on account of wrinkles or loss 
 of strength ; so far from it, that an awe 
 or reverence for the decent and re- 
 spectable grey hairs of good old men 
 seem to be impressed by nature on the 
 minds of all nations. Surely it is no 
 mark of contempt shewn to age, that 
 the most intricate affairs of kingdoms 
 and commonwealths have generally been 
 intrusted to the management of men of 
 years and experience ; and the son of 
 Solomon did not pursue the road to 
 honour or safety, when he adhered to 
 the advice of his young men, and de- 
 spised the admonition of his father's 
 counsellors. 
 
OP OLD AGE. 49 
 
 As to the fifth objection, that age 
 stands frequently single and lonely, 
 without any support, bereaved of chil- 
 dren, relations, and friends, having out- 
 lived the companions of youth, and 
 being unable to form new connections : 
 I answer, in the first place, that such a 
 survivance comes very seasonably to 
 detach the mind from the cares and 
 concerns of this world, and dispose it 
 to follow, without reluctance, those 
 friends in whom we formerly took de- 
 light, into a state of felicity which is 
 never more to be interrupted. It is 
 also to be observed, that nature, by 
 reducing the passions of old people to 
 a less degree of violence than in youth, 
 and by reminding them that they shall 
 quickly follow their ancestors, enables 
 them to bear the loss of friends and re- 
 lations with more equanimity and re- 
 signation than is common among 
 
 E 
 
50 ESSAY II. 
 
 younger people. But to come more 
 closely to the objection : It cannot rea- 
 sonably be affirmed, that a healthy and 
 cheerful old age is unable to form new 
 or useful connections, because we see 
 every day, that the conversation and 
 friendship of a good humoured and 
 judicious old man is more coveted * and 
 courted, than those of any young person 
 endowed with the same qualities ; as 
 some improvement may be made from 
 the experience of age, with which youth 
 is absolutely unacquainted. Besides, 
 young people learn with more pleasure 
 from the old than from those of their 
 own standing. 
 
 To the last objection, that age is 
 
 * I was told by a physician, who had been in- 
 vited to dinner at Paris on purpose to see the 
 celebrated Fontenelle, that the conversation of 
 that amiable man, at ninety six, was sprightly and 
 entertaining to the highest degree. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 51 
 
 alarmed and disquieted with the appre- 
 hensions and terrors of approaching 
 death, or rather of that something after 
 death, the undiscovered country, from 
 whose bourn no traveller returns. Be- 
 fore I answer this objection, it will be 
 proper to observe, that nothing could 
 be more worthy of the divine wisdom 
 and goodness, than to plant a strong 
 desire of life in the human heart; for 
 otherwise any trifling disquietude, or 
 unaccountable delusion, might induce 
 men every day to destroy themselves. 
 From this innate principle, we see that 
 when life is in danger, both old and 
 young are alarmed. But I must say, 
 in answer to the objection now made, 
 that old people have much less reason 
 to be alarmed. For, supposing that, 
 after the expiration of the constitu« 
 tional period allotted to man by nature, 
 he could live some ages longer, hte 
 
 E 2 
 
52 essay ir. 
 
 miseries must increase to such a de- 
 gree, as would effectually restrain his 
 appetite for perpetuity of life., and make 
 him ashamed of the pleasing visions he 
 might at any time have formed to him- 
 self of immortality upon earth. The 
 truth of this will evidently appear from 
 the following consideration : The me- 
 chanism of the human body, upon which 
 the vigour of the external senses and 
 mental faculties depends, undergoes ne- 
 cessary and natural changes through 
 time. All the conduits and pipes grow 
 narrow and stiff, and the fluids must be 
 retarded and obstructed in their circu- 
 lation.* The consequences, with re- 
 gard to a man's outward form, are 
 shocking : Not the smallest trace of his 
 youthful comeliness, or reverend ap- 
 
 Gelidus tardante senecta 
 
 Sanguis hebet, frigentque effoetae in corpore vires. 
 
 Virg. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 53 
 
 pearance of his decent old age re- 
 mains : His face becomes withered and 
 furrowed,, he loses his teeth and his hair, 
 his eyes sink in their sockets., and he 
 appears wretched, ghastly, and hideous. 
 In the next place, these changes must 
 occasion inexpressible pain * and anxi- 
 ety that make life a perpetual torment. 
 But what is still more deplorable, the 
 memory and understanding must be 
 gradually impaired, and, after some 
 time, quite extinguished, by which our 
 old man becomes dead to all natural af- 
 
 * The reason of this is obvious : The blood 
 forcing its way from the heart, while the stiffened 
 arteries oppose its circulation ; the air, included 
 in man's aliment, expanding itself, and almost 
 bursting the intestinal tube, for want of that 
 power of digestion which formerly restrained it ; 
 these, and a thousand other struggles that neces- 
 sarily arise during the extreme debility of all the 
 organs of the body, must occasion inconceivable 
 languors, pain, and restlessness, if men were to 
 outlive the periods adapted by nature to their re- 
 spective constitutions. 
 
54 ESSAY II. 
 
 fection, and utterly deprived of the 
 benefit of conversation., and of reading", 
 that was his best, his last consolation. 
 His sight, hearing, taste, and other out- 
 ward senses, must decay and perish, 
 which cuts him off" from any possible 
 relish or attainment of the most lawful 
 and natural pleasures : So that, upon 
 the whole, our immortal would become 
 the most despicable, odious, and morti- 
 fying object in the whole creation ; and 
 Dean Swift * had reason to say, cc that 
 cc no tyrant, were he ever so cruel, could 
 ce invent a death to which our miser- 
 cc able old man would not run with 
 ee pleasure from such an immortality ;■' 
 And indeed God is very gracious in 
 the appointment of death for his relief. 
 
 * See Gulliver's voyage to Laputa, chap. x. 
 concerning the Strulbruggs or immortals, where 
 the author (if I may venture to give my opinion) 
 writes with more modesty and good sense, than 
 in any other chapter of his travels. 
 
OF OLD AGE. 55 
 
 Again , if, in defiance of those con- 
 sequences, our old man should still be 
 haunted with the terror of death, he 
 should with the strongest effort of his 
 reason, endeavour to conquer that ter- 
 ror, and make at least a virtue of ne- 
 cessity,, by bringing his mind to submit 
 cheerfully to that change, which he can 
 by no art evade ; and he should arm 
 himself with resolution for that combat, 
 in which every individual of the human 
 race must once, and but once, be en- 
 gaged. 
 
 Besides, every old man has a greater 
 number of his friends and relations, in 
 that undiscovered country, than he can 
 have on earth, and those whom he may 
 leave behind will quickly follow him ; 
 and shall he be afraid to join them 
 again ? Does he propose no satisfac- 
 tion in the society of those great and 
 good men, and those exalted ge- 
 
56 ESSAY II. 
 
 niuses,* of whom he has heard and 
 read so much, and so frequently ? 
 
 But above all, when we consider that 
 the same supreme and gracious Intelli- 
 gence governs the world of spirits, who 
 rules this earth, may we not, from his 
 experienced goodness, safely rely on 
 him for the security and happiness of 
 our future existence? This hope the 
 religion of nature f inspires. The 
 hopes of the Christian are still more sub- 
 lime, removing the doubts, and exalting 
 the joys of immortality. 
 
 * O praeclarum diem, cum ad illud divinorum 
 animorum concilium coetumque proficiscar: cum- 
 que ex hac turba et colluvione discedam. Cic. de 
 Senect. 
 
 f Quod si in hoc erro, quod animos hominum 
 immortales esse credam, libenter erro : nee mihi 
 hunc errorem, dum vivo, extorqueri volo. Cic. de 
 Senect. 
 
57 
 
 ESSAY III. 
 
 A DREAM ; OR VISIONARY REPRESENTATION 
 OF THE SOUL'S EMPLOYMENT AFTER 
 DEATH. 
 
 READING, last night, in the Uni- 
 versal History, an account of the great 
 care which the ancient Egyptians took 
 to have their bodies embalmed after 
 death, and of the immense charges they 
 were at to provide sumptuous reposi- 
 tories for them, where they should be 
 safe and entire for ages ; and consi- 
 dering that all this care and expence 
 arose from a notion they entertained, 
 of the soul's hovering about the body, 
 as long as any union of its parts sub- 
 sisted ; I was astonished, that a people, 
 so rational in other respects, should 
 
58 ESSAY III. 
 
 adopt such a senseless opinion ! A wor- 
 thy occupation,, truly, for an immortal 
 spirit, after its enlargement, to watch 
 a loathsome carcass for ages, which, 
 though formerly united with it, had in 
 death neither use nor beauty to make 
 its presence desirable. 
 
 How much more noble was the idea 
 of Socrates,* who told his friends, after 
 he had drunk the hemlock, that his 
 body, which they should presently see 
 dead, was no part of Socrates, who had 
 made his escape from it. But the 
 most sublime idea of a future state, and 
 most suitable to the dignity of man, 
 made after the image of the Creator, is 
 that which represents, not only the per- 
 fect refinement of the mind, but the 
 glorification also of the body, and the 
 final conjunction and immortality of 
 both. 
 
 * See Plato's Phaedo, 
 
A DREAM. 59 
 
 Musing thus upon the state of the 
 soul after its separation from the body, 
 the thought made so strong an impres- 
 sion on my mind, that it kept me awake 
 for some hours after I went to bed : be- 
 fore morning, however, I fell asleep, 
 and dreamed that I died suddenly, 
 without any previous pain or sickness. 
 No sooner was my soul dismissed from 
 its confinement, but methought I im- 
 mediately felt the happy effects of my 
 freedom. All my faculties were in- 
 larged, new thoughts sprung up in my 
 mind, new objects surrounded me, and 
 I was endowed with a new capacity to 
 apprehend them. Every thing about 
 me was so refined and exalted, be- 
 yond any thing I had ever imagined^ 
 that there are no words in any lan- 
 guage I know to express them. I 
 thought myself somewhat like a man 
 born blind, who having lived a long 
 
60 ESSAY III. 
 
 time in the world, and heard people 
 often talk of light and colours, had 
 formed strange notions of them in his 
 own imagination., comparing them to 
 different sounds and surfaces, but never 
 knew what they really were, until the 
 cataracts which shut out the light were 
 happily removed from his eyes. 
 
 While I stood anxious and doubtful, 
 whether my new existence had any 
 thing real in it, or was only an illusion, 
 I saw a man breaking out from an in- 
 numerable multitude, which was at a 
 distance, and coming toward me, and, 
 as he drew near, I knew him to be the 
 late *****. 
 
 I perceived you to be a little bewil- 
 dered, said he, and came, out of pure 
 friendship, to encourage you, at your 
 first and transient appearance in this 
 
 * One of the most benevolent men that ever 
 lived. 
 
A DREAM. 61 
 
 region. I am indeed so much engaged 
 at present, that I cannot shew you those 
 things that are most worthy of your 
 observation in this place,, but I have re- 
 commended you to guides equally will- 
 ing, and more able than myself, to give 
 you all the information you desire. Yon- 
 der they are, farewel. I sadly regretted 
 his departure, but my new conductors 
 were at hand : The one seemed to be 
 a youth of celestial beauty, and to have 
 a majesty in his air, and a gracefulness 
 in his motion, far above any person I 
 had ever beheld; but I was most de- 
 lighted with the compassionate kindness 
 which appeared in his countenance, and 
 which persuaded me that he was come 
 for my protection. I was going to 
 kneel before him, but, with a smile full 
 of tenderness, he hastily prevented me, 
 and said, See thou do it not, for I am 
 thy fellow servant, and only thy guar- 
 
62 ESSAY III. 
 
 dian angel. The other was an old man, 
 whose figure appeared mean at a dis- 
 tance, but venerable as he drew nearer. 
 An easy cheerfulness, familiarity, and 
 benevolence, conspicuous in his air and 
 address (which seemed, nevertheless, in 
 some degree to be contradicted by his 
 features)* so struck me, that I con- 
 cluded him to be Socrates, and thought 
 myself very happy in his company. 
 
 You are welcome, stranger, said he, 
 with his ancient cheerfulness, what do 
 you now think of the descriptions which 
 Homer, and our other Greek poets, 
 have given of the state of the dead ? 
 You are, no doubt, of opinion, that 
 their representations of the dead were 
 only allegories, invented to deter the 
 
 * See a remarkable print of Socrates in Me- 
 nage's Laertius, taken from an antique gem of 
 Antonius Augustinus. 
 
A DREAM. 63 
 
 living from vice,, and incite them to 
 virtue ; and allegories certainly they 
 were, continued he., partly obscure, and 
 partly absurd, and yet under such 
 poetical fictions were couched most of 
 our inducements to piety and virtue in 
 my younger days ; but God, of his 
 mercy, has accepted my endeavours 
 to please him through a Saviour whom 
 I knew not. I longed * for the mani- 
 festation of a messenger from heaven, 
 who should reveal the will of the Deity 
 to man ; but you Christians, who have 
 been blessed with such a messenger, 
 have generally made a perverse use of 
 his doctrine. True, said I, and may 
 the Almighty open the eyes and mend 
 the hearts of those that are yet to come : 
 But pray, good Socrates, may I be per- 
 mitted to ask how yon prodigious crowd 
 is employed? A multitude makes no 
 
 * See Plato's Alcibiades, ii. 
 
64 ESSAY III. 
 
 crowd here, said he, as it commonly 
 does on earth ; there is no pressing or 
 squeezing for place among us ; for as 
 our composition is pure and refined, 
 whenever any thing is to be seen or 
 heard, which naturally brings a multi- 
 tude together, we presently slip into a 
 theatre prepared to our hands, larger 
 or smaller as the occasion requires, and 
 every person glides swiftly into his pro- 
 per place, higher or lower in the 
 theatre; and, as we hear and see dis- 
 tinctly at a great distance, there is no 
 necessity to thrust ourselves near an ob- 
 ject, in order to view or understand it 
 more accurately. As to yonder mul- 
 titude, you shall know their business 
 presently, for we came at your friend's 
 request, on purpose to give you a ge- 
 neral idea of our common entertain- 
 ments in this place. Be wise, and you 
 shall see a great deal more hereafter. 
 
A DREAM. 65 
 
 We then drew near to one of these 
 theatres,, which to me appeared a more 
 magnificent and beautiful structure than 
 I had ever seen or read of before. The 
 body of the building, together with the 
 columns and decorations within and 
 without, seemed to be of the whitest 
 and most delicate marble, finished with 
 amazing art ; the seats and benches of 
 pure gold, and the area of the finest 
 emerald ; the whole illuminated with a 
 splendour and brightness which I am 
 not able to describe. Here an angel 
 of high rank was explaining to the spi- 
 rits lately arrived, the nature of the hu- 
 man mind, the beauty, extent, and ne- 
 cessity of virtue ; the reasons of the 
 soul's connection with the body, the 
 bands of their union ; and the certainty 
 of a resurrection. The audience lis- 
 tened with admiration and joy, and I was 
 so charmed with the entertainment, and 
 
 F 
 
66 ESSAY III. 
 
 so eager to understand the subject! he 
 "treated on, that I would have continued 
 there, had not my guides admonished 
 me to step further. 
 
 I shall conduct you next, said Socrates, 
 to an assembly which seldom meets, 
 but happens to be now sitting. It is a 
 rendezvous from all nations, of those 
 who made it their business on earth to 
 inquire with reverence into the works 
 of God, from the solar system and ec- 
 centric comet, down to the smallest 
 plant and minutest insect. It is not 
 here, continued he, as on earth, where 
 the human mind, from the narrowness 
 of its capacity, and the richness of the 
 works of creation, is obliged to confine 
 itself to one branch of knowledge. Here 
 the mind is so enlarged, that the former 
 study of an age is soOn acquired, and 
 yet the fulness, variety, and beauty to 
 be met with in every work of the AI- 
 
A DREAM, 67 
 
 mighty, are so inexhaustible, that they 
 will furnish new arguments of admira- 
 tion and praise to all eternity. This 
 assembly meets at stated times, in order 
 to communicate their discoveries one 
 to another. A genius practised in such 
 contemplations, either learns from a su- 
 perior spirit, the true nature and essence 
 of any substance which he desires to 
 know, or travels himself, in a very little 
 time, to any remote part of the universe, 
 to make discoveries on the spot. The 
 discovery that he has made (for there 
 is but one language here) is communi- 
 cated to the whole assembly, and every 
 member takes his turn ; while, at the 
 same time, a company of angels assists 
 to do honour to the assembly, and far- 
 ther elucidate, if desired, the facts re- 
 lated by each speaker : And upon every 
 new discovery, a shout of praise and 
 thanksgiving is sent up to Him whose 
 
 F 2 
 
68 ESSAY III. 
 
 power and wisdom are infinite. My 
 guides had been drawing near to this 
 assembly all the while that Socrates was 
 describing it ; and we came up at the 
 moment when a member,, who had at- 
 tended a comet in several directions/ 
 through different tracks of space, ex- 
 plained to the society the curve which 
 it described, and the cause by which its 
 motions were regulated in the various 
 parts of its rapid course; upon which 
 one of those joyful hallelujahs, men- 
 tioned before, was sung by the whole 
 company. The splendour and majesty 
 of this assembly so transported me, and 
 the sweetness of the music filled my 
 heart with such delight, that I attempted 
 to join in the chorus, but found my voice 
 too feeble for their exalted pitch. 
 
 Observe there, said Socrates, (point- 
 ing to a stately portico near this as- 
 sembly) a select company of contempla- 
 
A DREAM. 69 
 
 tive sages surrounding that graceful and 
 radiant seraph, who to their entire satis - 
 faction, and transcendent joy, unfolds 
 to them those mysteries of Providence 
 which they could not comprehend on 
 earth, and clears up every obscure step 
 of the divine oeconomy, with which 
 they desire to be made acquainted. 
 
 But do not imagine, from what you 
 have yet seen, that this region is de- 
 stined to bestow happiness only upon 
 the inquisitive and learned. Piety, 
 righteousness, and charity, practised on 
 earth are infinitely more regarded here 
 than science ; but at the same time I 
 must tell you, that all who are admitted 
 hither, whether male or female, old or 
 young, Grecian or Barbarian, (as we 
 Greeks used arrogantly to distinguish 
 mankind) become soon more knowing 
 than the most learned man on earth 
 ever was. For, as the different attain- 
 
70 ESSAY III. 
 
 merits of men among you arise,, for the 
 most part, from the different disposition 
 of their organs., and their different op- 
 portunities of improvement ; and as 
 the organs and opportunities of all here 
 are equally good, the only conspicuous 
 regard paid to human creatures in this 
 place, arises from the different degrees 
 of piety and virtue, which they acquired 
 in their state of probation ; and you 
 will find that they are ranked accord- 
 ingly, but still without raising any envy 
 or jealousy in those of inferior degree; 
 for every individual is conscious, that 
 he enjoys the greatest felicity he is ca- 
 pable of, and unspeakably more than he 
 deserved. 
 
 I must also inform you, that virtuous 
 friendships cultivated on earth are not 
 broke off here ; for though every crea- 
 ture you see loves you, and is wonder- 
 fully ready to oblige you, yet next to 
 
A DREAM. 71 
 
 the presence and favour of God, your 
 friends are the greatest delight of your 
 heart. Here are myriads of husbands 
 and wives, parents and children, rela- 
 tions, companions, and neighbours, ex- 
 pressing their minds in the highest 
 strains of gratitude and praise to the 
 Supreme Being; who, after all their 
 tedious care and solicitude on account 
 of each other, after all the vexations 
 and disappointments they met with in 
 the world, has at last admitted them into 
 those blessed mansions, from which 
 every sort of wickedness and distress is 
 banished for ever, and where they will 
 see each other happy, without interrup- 
 tion, and without end. 
 
 Your own eyes, said he, shall con- 
 firm the truth of what I have told you ; 
 and immediately he conducted me to 
 the summit of a high hill, where all 
 the great beauties of nature lay blend- 
 
72 ESSAY III. 
 
 ed together, in a charming wildness 
 around me, and where the whole re- 
 gion was full of people; but when I 
 fixed my eye on any particular pros- 
 pect, it appeared like an immense gar- 
 den laid out with a regular variety, 
 where the verdure of trees and lawns, 
 the beauty of flowers and fruits, the 
 brightness and motions of waters, and 
 the contrast of light and shade that ap- 
 peared through the whole, formed the 
 most delightful landscape I ever be- 
 held. 
 
 In yonder arbours, alcoves, and 
 walks, continued he, you have a view 
 of the relations and friends I mention- 
 ed, in conversation sweet and pleasing 
 beyond all human imagination. You 
 see also theatres, porticos, pavilions^ 
 temples, chapels, and oratories, of va- 
 rious materials, dimensions, and archi- 
 tecture, where larger and smajter com- 
 
A DREAM. 73 
 
 panies frequently meet to improve 
 themselves in every heavenly virtue, 
 to admire the works of creation and 
 providence,, and to adore the Author 
 of all their felicity ; at which times., 
 to their inexpressible joy, they are 
 admitted into as full a view of the trans- 
 cendent glory of the Almighty., and 
 as large a participation of his favour, 
 as their respective minds are at present 
 able to receive. Here Socrates paused 
 a moment, and I looked into two or 
 three of those temples and oratories, 
 where, with the utmost pleasure, I 
 beheld several of my departed friends, 
 whose lives were exemplary for piety 
 and goodness. Some of these, in loud 
 and melodious anthems, exalted the 
 name of their Creator, and some, in ex- 
 pressive silence mused his praise*, 
 
 * See the hymn at the conclusion of Thom- 
 son's Seasons. 
 
74 ESSAY III. 
 
 Their garments shone like light, a ra- 
 diant crown encompassed their heads,, 
 and their countenances discovered so 
 much satisfaction and benignity, that the 
 very sight of them was transporting. 
 Blessed society, cried I ! no wonder the 
 martyrs of old, and good men in all 
 ages, despised temporary afflictions for 
 the joy which was set before them. Bles- 
 sed indeed, said Socrates, and yet how 
 easily may that blessing be attained ! 
 What madness has possessed mankind, 
 that they could not all come to this 
 place, considering the rational and 
 advantageous conditions required of 
 them, the gracious encouragements given 
 them, and that none are finally ex- 
 eluded, but those perverse wretches, 
 who have contracted such deliberate 
 habits of malice and wickedness, with- 
 out repentance, that our conversation 
 and employment here would be disa- 
 
A DREAM. 75 
 
 greeable and irksome to them, sup- 
 pose they could be admitted. But 
 there is a very different abode appoint- 
 ed for miscreants, who took pleasure 
 in affronting the Deity, and injuring 
 their neighbour. 
 
 He then led me to the brink of a 
 dreadful precipice : Look down there, 
 said he, and view the habitation of mi- 
 sery, and listen to the groans of an- 
 guish. What the final result will be 
 with respect to these criminals, God 
 only knows, who punishes for the sake 
 of justice, example, and amendment, 
 and not through fear, anger, or re- 
 venge, as man often does. One thing 
 we are sure of, which is, that the 
 great Judge of the universe will finally 
 determine what is wisest, best, and fit- 
 test to be done with respect to all his 
 creatures, to the full conviction of every 
 rational being. 
 
76 ESSAY III. 
 
 I find that Christians daily offer up 
 this petition to the Deity, Thy kingdom 
 come, in a prayer taught them by him 
 who perfectly knew the will of heaven. 
 But how can God's blessed kingdom 
 of universal righteousness, charity, ho- 
 liness, and happiness come, while so 
 many myriads of reasonable creatures 
 continue disobedient and refractory ? 
 May not punishment, proportioned to 
 the heinousness of their crimes, and to 
 the malevolence of their dispositions, 
 together with some remote hope or 
 possibility of pardon, or some other 
 method contrived by infinite wisdom, 
 though unknown to us, at last produce 
 humiliation and amendment? Whereas 
 eternal and horrible despair can pro- 
 duce nothing but blasphemy, malice, 
 and distraction, which seem repugnant 
 to the ends of creation, and to that 
 order and beauty preserved in the go- 
 
A DREAM. 77 
 
 vernment of the universe. Does it be- 
 come weak and ignorant man to af- 
 firm., that there shall be no end of sin, 
 which is so hateful to God, whose pre- 
 rogative it is to bring order out of con- 
 fusion ? but my sight is too feeble to 
 penetrate so far into futurity. To the 
 wisdom, justice, and goodness of God, 
 therefore, I leave the fate of those 
 unhappy criminals to be determined. 
 But I perceive that such a dismal scene 
 shocks you ! This exalted spirit, con- 
 tinued he, (bowing respectfully to my 
 guardian angel, who accompanied us 
 all the while) can entertain you better. 
 
 The angel then taking me graciously 
 by the hand, said, I am glad to meet 
 you here in any shape, because I hope, 
 that what you see among us will give 
 you a just idea of the value and dignity 
 of the human mind, and evermore in- 
 duce you to pursue objects worthy of 
 
78 ESSAY III. 
 
 that image after which you was created. 
 How vain,, trifling', and transient, are the 
 honours, wealth, and pleasures of the 
 earth, compared with the transcendent 
 and endless happiness enjoyed here ! 
 The great privilege and glory of man, 
 his principal and almost only superiority 
 over the beasts of the field, consist in the 
 relation in which he stands towards God ; 
 in being made after his likeness, capable 
 to serve him, and to enjoy his presence 
 and favour for ever. The time will come, 
 when the righteous among mankind 
 shall be raised to the rank * in which 
 I now stand, and perhaps a great deal 
 higher, through the favour of the Al- 
 mighty, who is perpetually enlarging 
 our capacities, and drawing us nearer 
 to himself in every kind of felicity. My 
 endowments, at present, excel what 
 
 * See Spectator, No. 3. 
 
A D&EAM. 79 
 
 they were at my first production ; for 
 it is impossible to have so near a view 
 of the wisdom, goodness, and holiness 
 of God, as we enjoy in this place, 
 without receiving continual improve- 
 ments. You think your faculties greatly 
 refined by a cursory mingling with 
 the world of good spirits. How will 
 they be really exalted, if ever you 
 come to dwell in these regions, where 
 the source of all perfections is visible ? 
 How often have I pitied your folly, 
 when you have given way to your pas- 
 sions and appetites, and deviated from 
 your plain and known duty, which is 
 the only path that leads hither. I could, 
 and did frequently guard you from the 
 snares of men, and wicked spirits ; and, 
 in inanifest dangers, seconded the re- 
 monstrances of your own conscience, 
 by suggesting proper reasons against sin, 
 while yet your mind hesitated between 
 
80 . ESSAY III. 
 
 your duty to God and the allurements 
 of the world. But 1 had no orders to 
 over-rule your freedom, or defend you 
 from yourself, when you was perversely 
 determined to gratify your vicious in- 
 clinations. Come, nevertheless, (con- 
 tinued he, with an air of tenderness 
 and compassion) I will now conduct 
 you to yonder eminent temple, and will 
 there shew you as much of the external 
 majesty of the Almighty, as a dim- 
 sighted mortal can behold. And, as 
 we went along, he continued his gra- 
 cious discourse in the following manner. 
 O that men would sincerely endea- 
 vour to entertain a just conception of 
 the Deity, of his excellencies and per- 
 fections ; and would in all events re- 
 solve, to the utmost of their power, to 
 perform the plain and obvious duties 
 of loving God and their neighbour, 
 and never quit the road of righteousness 
 
A DREAM. 81 
 
 and holiness, to search for any other 
 by-paths to heaven : hereby they might 
 secure to themselves, through the merits 
 and intercession of the great Redeemer, 
 a joyful reception into this region of 
 light and truth, where their capacities 
 would soon be enlarged, all their mis- 
 takes rectified, and themselves made, 
 beyond imagination, happy. How much 
 wiser would such a conduct be, than to 
 wrangle and dispute concerning difficult 
 points, which they do not yet under- 
 stand, hating in the mean time and 
 persecuting their neighbours, because 
 they differ in opinion with them on 
 those abstruse speculations. There is 
 nothing more certain, than that the 
 supreme Being cannot make himself 
 less infinite than he is in every excel- 
 lence, in order to accommodate his 
 immensity to the narrow apprehension 
 of mankind, or make his conduct, in 
 
 G 
 
82 ESSAY III. 
 
 every instance,, obvious to the human 
 understanding. Why then should such 
 a weak., ignorant creature., as man^ 
 break through all the plain rules of 
 charity, swell with pride, and damn 
 and persecute his neighbours,, because, 
 in some high and intricate points, they 
 cannot think as he does ? O that they 
 would all rather strive, by a sincere and 
 humble practice of piety and virtue, to 
 arrive at this place, where their under- 
 standing will be wonderfully enlight- 
 ened, and all their doubts quickly re- 
 moved ! We, whose intellectual facul- 
 ties are far superior to those of man, 
 when we contemplate the divine nature 
 and perfections, and his government of 
 the universe, perpetually discover new 
 glories, and new matter of wonder 
 and adoration, and shall discover more 
 and more, to all eternity. Nay, (to 
 
A DREAM. 83 
 
 use the words * of one of your own 
 species), 
 
 Eternity is too short to utter all his praise. 
 
 As the angel had pronounced these 
 words, we found ourselves near the 
 temple, and I perceived innumerable 
 rays of a glorious light darting from 
 it, which far surpassed the sun in bright- 
 ness, and yet rather invigorated than 
 dazzled the sight. But when we ar- 
 rived at the outer gates, and the angel 
 was going to open one of them, con- 
 scious of my own unworthiness, and 
 afraid to appear in the presence of him 
 whose eyes are purer than to behold ini- 
 quity, I was struck with so great an awe 
 of the majesty and holiness of God, 
 that I immediately awaked, and found 
 my bed trembling under me. 
 
 * Addison's hymn in Spectator, No. 453. 
 
 Cr 2 
 
MEDITATIONS 
 
 ON 
 
 SEVERAL SUBJECTS. 
 
 MEDITATION I. 
 
 ON THE DAY FAR SPENT. 
 
 WITH me the day is far spent,, and 
 the night is at hand. The great busi- 
 ness on which I was sent into the 
 world is scarce begun ; and yet I know 
 that I must and shall soon appear 
 before the tribunal of God, to give 
 an account of my behaviour. Awful 
 thought! What shall I do? I would 
 
86 MEDITATION I. 
 
 gladly return to thee, O my Father 
 and my God, and dedicate the remain- 
 ing part of my life to thy service. But 
 wilt thou accept the offer which I make 
 at the eleventh hour ? especially since 
 it was not through any want of the 
 strongest inducements to serve thee, 
 that I have so long continued to neg- 
 lect my duty, but because I was a 
 slave to my own unruly appetites and 
 passions, and stifled the witness of God 
 in my heart, which remonstrated against 
 my follies. I have no plea for my trans- 
 gressions, and therefore have reason to 
 dread thy displeasure. Shall 1 then de- 
 spair of the mercies of my God ? No ! 
 That I will never do, for though he slay 
 me, yet will I put my trust in him. 
 When I reflect on the time past of my 
 life, and review the part which I have 
 acted in the world, the retrospect is indeed 
 gloomy and comfortless. I tremble at 
 
ON THE DAY FAR SPENT. 87 
 
 the remembrance of my trespasses. The 
 frequency and guilt of them are dread- 
 ful to me. I have trespassed against 
 every obligation to gratitude., and have 
 employed the very favours which God 
 bestowed upon me, to purchase the fol- 
 lies of sin. On the other hand, when 
 I consider the relation in which I stand 
 to the great God and Father of all, 
 and view the part which he acts to- 
 wards his creatures, the prospect grows 
 clearer; I must not, I cannot despair. 
 He was pleased to create me after his 
 own image, to make me capable of serv- 
 ing him, of being admitted into his pre- 
 sence, and of enjoying his favours for 
 ever. His mercies have followed me 
 all the days of my life. He has sup- 
 ported me under a multitude of adver- 
 sities, any one of which might have 
 overwhelmed me, had not his goodness 
 interposed. He has even defended me 
 
88 MEDITATION I. 
 
 against myself, and protected me against 
 the natural consequences of my own 
 wickedness and folly. The conveni- 
 encies and comforts of life which I en- 
 joy, I owe all to his bounty. The 
 happy opportunity of recollection and 
 amendment,, which he has graciously 
 vouchsafed to bestow upon me, free 
 from the cares and dissipations of the 
 world, is a mercy for which my soul 
 desires to bless and praise him for ever. 
 But, above all, when I consider, that 
 God so loved the world, as to send his 
 own Son to redeem it, and to call sin- 
 ners to repentance and favour; this 
 amazing testimony of his condescension 
 and goodness is sufficient to revive the 
 most languid hope ! Why art thou, 
 therefore, cast down, O my soul, and 
 why art thou disquieted within me? 
 Hope thou in God, for I shall yet 
 praise him, who is the light of my 
 countenance, and my God, 
 
89 
 
 MEDITATION II 
 
 ON THE EXAMINATION OF THE HEART. 
 
 WHEN I examine my own heart, 
 I find that I have committed a mul- 
 titude of grievous sins, for which I 
 can make neither apology nor resti- 
 tution, and for which I am ashamed to 
 lift up my eyes unto God. And even 
 yet, while I am ashamed of my past of- 
 fences, I still find an undisciplined pro- 
 pensity in my heart to hesitate between 
 my duty to God and the delusions of 
 the world, and to extenuate faults, 
 which a sincere and upright soul would 
 condemn without any deliberation. I 
 find also in myself, on several occasions, 
 an impatience of contradiction, and a 
 
90 MEDITATION II. 
 
 peevishness which cannot be pleasing 
 to God or to my neighbour, and which 
 I would be glad to conquer. O most 
 merciful Father, how different is my 
 disposition from the meekness, humility, 
 and patience, of my Redeemer ! O 
 when shall I seriously and constantly en- 
 deavour to imitate his virtues ? Upon 
 the whole, in all my scrutiny, I find 
 myself guilty in the sight of God, and 
 have no hope left but in his goodness, 
 and in the merits and intercession of 
 my Redeemer. I will therefore throw 
 myself at his feet, for as his majesty is, 
 so is his mercy. Though I am but 
 dust and ashes, yet he is my Father, 
 and let him dispose of me as he pleases. 
 If his infinite goodness will fully and 
 freely pardon my transgressions for the 
 sake of my Redeemer, blessed be his 
 glorious name for ever, But if my sinsr 
 are so great, my repentance so insincere^ 
 
ON THE HEART. 91 
 
 that I must be punished for my amend- 
 ment ; even in that case, blessed be his 
 adorable name, and let his holy will be 
 done,, and let me submit with resigna- 
 tion and cheerfulness to his fatherly 
 corrections., and though he should slay 
 me, yet let me put my trust in him, 
 
92 
 
 MEDITATION III. 
 
 OF man's interest in the perfections of 
 
 THE DEITY. 
 
 OMNIPOTENCE is his shield ; un- 
 erring wisdom his guide ; boundless 
 goodness his present joy and future 
 hope ; infinite holiness and rectitude his 
 example to be imitated,, according to 
 his poor capacity, and a light to shew 
 him his own vileness : Infinite majesty 
 inspires him with awe and reverence ; 
 and infinite justice with righteousness 
 and obedience. Omniscience and om- 
 nipresence strike him with terror when 
 he does evil, and fill him with joy when 
 he does well. The relation of Creator 
 and Father engages him to love and 
 
A PRAYER. 98 
 
 adore: God's natural and moral go- 
 vernment of the worlds gives peace and 
 security to his mind, as it satisfies hinr, 
 that the divine providence can and 
 always will bring order out of con- 
 fusion. 
 
 A Prayer, formed upon the conside- 
 N ration of some of the attributes of 
 the Deity. 
 
 O GOD, who didst create man after 
 thy own image, vouchsafe to give me 
 right conceptions of thee, and to im- 
 print on my soul the awful considera- 
 tion of thy glorious attributes, so deeply, 
 that I may, at all times, be ashamed 
 and afraid to offend thee. Let me, with 
 joy and adoration, contemplate thy 
 amazing love, in sending thy Son into 
 the world to redeem lost man. Oh ! 
 that I could, in return, love the Lord 
 
94 MEDITATION III. 
 
 my God, with all my heart, with all 
 my soul, with all my strength, and with 
 all my mind; and shew the sincerity 
 of my love, by yielding a perfect obe- 
 dience to all thy commandments. 
 
 Stamp on my soul a deep impression 
 of thy goodness, which every creature 
 partakes of. O let me pay my tribute 
 of gratitude and praise for this thy in- 
 estimable goodness and beneficence as 
 long as I have any being : And let me 
 always endeavour to do good to my 
 fellow creatures, who stand in need of 
 my assistance, as far as my feeble power 
 reaches. 
 
 Let me perpetually bless thy wisdom, 
 which, in every dispensation of thy pro- 
 vidence, uniformly does what is fittest 
 and best, which brings order out of 
 confusion, and light out of darkness. 
 Surely, thy infinite wisdom challenges 
 my cheerful resignation to thy holy will 
 
A PRAYER, 95 
 
 at all times, and forbids my repining at 
 thy dispensations, upon any pretence 
 whatsoever. 
 
 Let me never forget thy omnipresence, 
 before which I continually stand, and 
 from which no privacy or darkness can 
 hide me. And since it is impossible to 
 flee from thy presence, O teach my soul 
 to take delight in thy vicinity, and avoid 
 every thought, word, and deed, that can 
 give thee offence. 
 
 Permit me to adore thy omnipotence, 
 which made the universe out of no- 
 thing, and supports it every moment. 
 And from the consideration of this at- 
 tribute, let me put my entire trust in 
 thee, and, being careful to do my duty, 
 let me cheerfully leave the event of 
 every thing that concerns me to thy 
 disposal. 
 
 Imprint upon my soul thy truth and 
 rectitude, which challenge from me a 
 
96 MEDITATION III. 
 
 thorough sincerity and uprightness of 
 heart, an aversion to hypocrisy, to all 
 intercourse with sin, and to every kind 
 of hesitating between God and mam- 
 mon. 
 
 Let me stand in continual awe of thy 
 justice, which will by no means clear 
 the guilty and impenitent, and which 
 warns me to sin no more, lest I should 
 be cut off amidst my provocations, and 
 have my portion with the wicked. 
 
 Let thy blessed Spirit enable me to 
 revere thy holiness, which is more pure 
 than that thou canst behold iniquity. 
 O ! when shall I learn to abhor myself, 
 and repent in dust and ashes for my 
 many transgressions ? Cleanse me, O 
 most holy God, from every pollution, 
 that thou may est not think me too vile 
 to be received among the number of 
 thy servants. 
 
 Give me, O God, an awful impres- 
 
A PRAYER. 97 
 
 sion of thy serenity and peace, which 
 pass all understanding! Clear my soul 
 from every confusion. Wean my heart 
 from all unreasonable attachments to 
 this world : and for the merits and in- 
 tercession of Jesus Christ, vouchsafe to 
 bestow upon me all those graces and 
 virtues that will secure me thy peace 
 and favour for ever. 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 MEDITATION IV. 
 
 OF THE VANITY OF RICHES, HONOUR, AND 
 SENSUAL PLEASURES, COMPARED WITH 
 PIETY AND VIRTUE. 
 
 I HERE is no secure or permanent 
 comfort in any thing but in thy favour, 
 O eternal God, who art the same to- 
 day, yesterday, and for ever, without 
 variableness or shadow of turning. 
 Every thing else which we possess, 
 is vain, fluctuating, and unsatisfactory. 
 Those things which men pursue with 
 the greatest eagerness, what solid and 
 lasting comfort can they bestow ? Are 
 not riches, honour, power, pleasure, and 
 friends, the principal objects which we 
 have in view, and court with the great- 
 est assiduity and earnestness ? Let us 
 
OF VANITY. 99 
 
 therefore examine them respectively, 
 and see what permanent satisfaction 
 any or all of them can afford. 
 
 Riches frequently take to themselves 
 wings and flee away, and leave the 
 owner much more unhappy than they 
 found him. Unfruitful season s, bad 
 money securities, controverted titles to 
 estates, losses by fire and water, false 
 friends, intemperance, profuseness, long 
 sickness, civil wars, and a hundred ac- 
 cidents besides, which we can neither 
 prevent nor remove, may deprive us of 
 riches. Have not I seen, with pity 
 and regret, several who were the boast 
 and envy of the cities where they lived, 
 come to poverty and contempt in a few 
 years ? Wealth is indeed a blessing, if 
 it is employed in a subserviency to vir- 
 tue, otherwise it is a snare and a curse. 
 Adored for ever be thy name, O most 
 gracious God, who, by means of my 
 h 2 
 
100 MEDITATION IV. 
 
 labour and industry, hast vouchsafed to 
 bestow upon me a competency of the 
 good things of this world. Enable me 
 to make a proper use of thy bounty, 
 and to consider, that as 1 received all 
 from thy gracious hand, so it is my 
 duty to employ what is still thy own, 
 according to thy desire. Preserve to 
 me, if it is thy blessed will, what thou 
 thyself hast been pleased to give me, 
 amidst all the dangers that surround 
 me ; but if thou shouldst think proper 
 to do otherwise, let me not only be 
 contented, but cheerful under thy dis- 
 pensations, and let me, in every event, 
 bless and praise thy holy name for ever. 
 As to honours, if they minister to 
 pride, and tempt to sin, the possessors 
 were much better without them. As 
 to that honour, particularly, which de- 
 pends on popular applause, there is no- 
 thing more inconstant, or less valuable : 
 
OF VANITY. 101 
 
 The voices which are loud for you to- 
 day may, through faction or envy, with- 
 out any fault of yours, be as clamorous 
 against you to-morrow. Of this there 
 have happened a thousand instances in 
 every country. And as to tides of nobi- 
 lity, if they are not accompanied with 
 merit, they make the owners more uni- 
 versally contemptible, since persons of 
 high quality are, by their station, more 
 conspicuous than their inferiors. O 
 my God, let me never covet any other 
 title of honour but that of being thy 
 faithful servant. 
 
 Power, unless it is hereditary, is gene- 
 rally obtained and supported by fraud, 
 faction, corruption, or violence, and 
 lasts no longer than those means sub- 
 sist ; and the hatred, envy, and re- 
 venge which commonly pursue it, sel- 
 dom fail at last to overtake and pull it 
 down. But suppose it hereditary, yet 
 
102 MEDITATION IV. 
 
 still the trouble which attends it, and 
 the bad use which is commonly made 
 of it, make it, for the most part, as sad 
 experience has demonstrated, a burden 
 and a snare,, rather than any real bene- 
 fit to the possessor. 
 
 Let us next enquire what solid com- 
 fort can arise from sensual pleasures. 
 Infamy and disease never fail to attend 
 them, unless they are constantly kept 
 in subjection to reason. And is it not 
 shameful to place our happiness in such 
 gratifications as put us directly upon a 
 level with the brutes ? O my God, let 
 thy grace enable me to keep my appe- 
 tites and passions always within the 
 bounds which thou hast prescribed. 
 
 Lastly, as to the friendship of great 
 men, a dependence upon them will be 
 sure to deceive you, unless you mean- 
 ly and perpetually sacrifice your peace 
 and virtue to their interest and caprice. 
 
OF VANITY. 103 
 
 It is notorious,, that an unguarded ex- 
 pression, a malicious misrepresentation 
 of any thing you say or do, or the 
 smallest mistake, is sufficient to make 
 them your enemies. And if it is a 
 tried friend, a relation, or child you 
 depend on, how soon may death snatch 
 them away, and blast all your hopes in 
 a moment ! Or if a virtuous wife, who 
 partakes your cares, who studies your 
 ease, and whose exemplary life makes 
 religion amiable ; if such a friend, I 
 say, is a real consolation, as no doubt 
 she is, how is your joy turned into 
 mourning, in case you survive her ! 
 What heart can conceive a distress equal 
 to the loss of such a companion ! And 
 who can describe the pangs of grief 
 that must attend every remembrance 
 of her ! Here, especially, a thorough 
 resignation to the will of God, the 
 hopes of his support, and the prospect 
 
104 MEDITATION IV. 
 
 of a happy meeting in heaven., must 
 come to your relief, or you are wretch- 
 ed indeed. How properly,, therefore, 
 do the Scriptures caution us against put- 
 ting our trust in princes, or in any child 
 of man, because there is no help in them. 
 O most merciful Father, wean my heart 
 from all the sinful pleasures of this world, 
 and from all reliance on wealth, power, 
 or friendship therein, but let my affec- 
 tion be wholly fixed on thee, and be 
 thou my friend, my guide, and my de- 
 pendence for ever. 
 
105 
 
 MEDITATION V, 
 
 OF TIME. 
 
 TlME is one of the greatest blessings 
 bestowed by the Almighty on his ra- 
 tional creatures, and yet we commonly 
 make a very bad use of it. In the 
 days of health and affluence we think it 
 too short, and cannot spare any part of it 
 from our pleasures to bestow upon our 
 duty. In the days of affliction,, indeed, 
 we think it abundantly long and tedi- 
 ous ; and then,, if at all, are most like- 
 ly to employ it well ; but, generally 
 speaking, we seem to be insensible of 
 its true value until we are ready to lose 
 it. That it may be of inestimable use 
 to us, we plainly perceive, when we 
 give ourselves leisure to think, for se- 
 
106 MEDITATION V. 
 
 veral reasons : First, Because our re- 
 flections upon it, when properly em- 
 ployed, never fail to make us happy. 
 How unspeakable a blessing is perpe- 
 tual duration to angels and saints, who 
 are conscious of having done their duty 
 to their gracious Master, and who enjoy 
 his love and favour throughout that du- 
 ration ! 2. Because, even in the declen- 
 sion of life, we may still redeem the 
 former time which we have mis-spent, 
 provided we make no tarrying to turn 
 to God, and put not off from day to day. 
 3. Because, after we have obstinately 
 persisted in abusing the whole of it al- 
 lotted us by the Creator to work out 
 aour own salvation, and when we stand 
 on the extremest verge of life, ready to 
 drop into another world, we would 
 give all the riches of the earth, if we 
 had them, to bring back a portion of 
 the time which we fatally misemploy- 
 
OF TIME. 107 
 
 ed, in order to reform our lives, and 
 screen ourselves from the punishment 
 due to our sins, when, alas,, it is too late. 
 How fatal a blindness, how perverse a 
 folly is it, therefore, not to lay hold of 
 this blessing, while it is yet in our power, 
 considering" that it flies from us every 
 moment, and is never to return again 
 for a second trial of our obedience. 
 When we stand on the brink of the 
 grave, we see things as they really are, 
 without any mask or false colouring. At 
 that awful period, power will have lost 
 its strength to protect, riches their value 
 to relieve, knowledge its voice to instruct, 
 and pleasures their charms to allure ; so 
 that the power which was not before 
 exerted to defend the helpless, the 
 wealth which never fed the poor, the 
 knowledge which never persuaded to 
 virtue, and the pleasures which arose 
 from vice, were wretchedly employed, 
 
108 MEDITATION V. 
 
 or madly pursued, and, at the gloomy 
 hour of death, can neither give hope, 
 peace, nor comfort. 
 
 How sweet, on the other hand, is the 
 reflection of those whose time has been 
 employed to good purpose, accord- 
 ing to their capacities and stations in 
 the world ! How happy is the prospect 
 of the great, whose power defended the 
 oppressed ; of the rich, whose wealth re- 
 lieved the indigent, and raised merit 
 from distress ; of the learned, whose 
 knowledge diffused a love of virtue and 
 piety ; and of every person who did all 
 the good, and prevented all the evil in 
 his power ? Their time and their talents 
 were wisely employed. Death does not 
 approach them like the king of terrors, 
 but like a friend, who comes to release 
 them from the vanity and sorrows of 
 this world, and to charm their minds 
 with a prospect of that everlasting peace 
 
OF TIME. 109 
 
 and joy, of which they will soon be put 
 in possession. Eternal God, Father and 
 Ruler of the universe, take me under 
 thy mighty protection, and enable me 
 for the remaining* part of my time, by 
 a constant practice of righteousness, 
 charity, and piety, to acquire such habits 
 of loving and serving thee, that the end 
 of my days may be the end of my af- 
 flictions, and the beginning of that se- 
 Tenity and joy which is the everlasting 
 portion of thy children, 
 
110 
 
 MEDITATION VI. 
 
 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 THE comforts arising from the good 
 offices of true friendship are so highly 
 valuable, above all that riches or power 
 can bestow,, that the very mimicry of 
 friendship is one of the greatest favours 
 which wealth or grandeur can confer on 
 those who possess them. It is not alto- 
 gether for their own sake that riches 
 and power are so much esteemed,, but 
 chiefly for the subserviency of those 
 friends and partisans which they are 
 supposed to procure. And, if you take 
 away these friendships,, (false and incon- 
 stant as they generally are) riches be- 
 come useless, and power vanishes. A 
 true virtuous friend has many amiable 
 
OF FRIENDSHIP. Ill 
 
 qualities, which, in a low degree, faintly 
 resemble the attributes of the Deity; 
 reason wherewith to advise, love to 
 cherish, compassion to pity, wisdom to 
 prevent your wants, and sometimes 
 power to relieve them ; together with 
 integrity and truth to remove all &us> 
 picion of deceit and self-interest. In 
 short, the benefits accruing from real 
 friendship are inestimable : tc A true 
 tc friend, says the son of Sirach, is a 
 " strong defence, and he that has found 
 cc such a one has found a treasure, 
 tc Nothing can countervail a faithful 
 cc friend> and his excellency is invalua- 
 " ble. A faithful friend is a medicine 
 " of life, and they that fear the Lord 
 " shall find him." 
 
 Suppose a man to be thrown upon a 
 desolate island ; and let a superior being 
 approach him with a friend in one hand, 
 aaad all the riches of the earth in the 
 
112 MEDITATION VI. 
 
 other,, and give the man leave to chuse 
 which of the two he most desired. 
 Would he hesitate a moment to chuse 
 the friend ? Of what use could riches 
 be in his present situation ? Is there not 
 something intrinsic in friendship, an in- 
 separable blessing, useful at all times, 
 and in all places, which power and 
 riches, destitute of friends, cannot be- 
 stow r 
 
 Our first parent had all the beauties 
 of the creation to contemplate, all the 
 animals under his jurisdiction, and all 
 the pleasures of paradise to enjoy. But 
 when a true friend was presented to 
 him, he was so transported with the gift, 
 that he seemed to neglect all the other 
 favours he had received. We hope, 
 even at the hour of death, soon to meet 
 a virtuous friend who has gone before 
 us, or whom we leave behind us in this 
 world ; whereas riches and power (ex- 
 
OP FRIENDSHIP. 113 
 
 eept so far as we have made a virtuous 
 use of them) are then to depart from 
 us for ever. . 
 
 I bless and magnify thy holy name, 
 O my gracious God, for those faithful 
 and upright friends with which thou 
 hast condescended to favour me. Let 
 their good example excite me to love 
 and serve thee. And^ O Lord, if it be 
 consistent with thy wisdom and justice, 
 let our friendship, begun through thy 
 mercy here, be cultivated and perpetu- 
 ated to all eternity. 
 
114 
 
 MEDITATION VII 
 
 OF A FUTURE STATE, 
 
 iyyvs, s$h Q£ovti£b<m. ARISTOT. 
 
 WE are in this world so surrounded 
 with objects, which continually strike 
 one or other of our senses, that we 
 find it a difficult task to withdraw our 
 attention from them, and meditate on 
 things at a distance. But surely, 
 when things at a distance are so 
 very interesting, as our eternal happi- 
 ness or misery must be, and when we 
 are absolutely certain, that this distant 
 thing will soon be present with every 
 individual of us who is now alive, it is 
 an unaccountable infatuation never to 
 
OP A FUTURE STATE. 115 
 
 think of our future condition. If a 
 world to come seldom excites our fear 
 or hope,, because of its imagined dis- 
 tance, it should, at least, employ our 
 reason and reflection, because of its 
 certainty. But why should not even 
 a distant prospect of heaven animate 
 and exalt our hope ? To a person who 
 attends to the natural consequences of 
 the universal practice of virtue in any 
 society, what can appear more amiable 
 or more to be desired than the felicity 
 of heaven ? 
 
 To be admitted into the company of 
 angels and saints, eminent in virtue and 
 piety, among whom benevolence to 
 their fellow creatures discovers itself 
 in every action; where, from a pure 
 principle of benignity, there is this only 
 emulation, who shall most advance the 
 happiness of others ; where those who 
 are full of knowledge inform them 
 I 2 
 
116 MEDITATION VII. 
 
 that have less,, displaying the wisdom, 
 the goodness, the power, and holiness 
 of God, to the joy and admiration of 
 those whom they instruct ; where an 
 universal example of rectitude and pu- 
 rity admits no temptation to vice ; but, 
 on the contrary, daily improvements 
 are made in the knowledge of them- 
 selves and of their duty, of the works 
 of creation and providence, of God's 
 natural and moral government of the 
 world, subjects equally charming and 
 inexhaustible ; and, above all, where 
 the irradiations of God's spirit discover 
 his infinite holiness, glory, and goodness 
 to every individual, in proportion as that 
 individual is fit to receive such improv- 
 ing communications : This, indeed, is 
 joy unspeakable, which eye has not 
 seen, nor ear heard, nor entered into 
 the heart of man to conceive. 
 
 View the condition of man in this 
 
OF A FUTURE STATE. 117 
 
 world, and consider whether his conti- 
 nuance here can be any more than a 
 small portion of his existence, and then 
 say, whether any other object, besides 
 piety and virtue, is worthy of his ear- 
 nest pursuit ? If, from seventy years, the 
 common boundary of old age, you de- 
 duct the time spent in the thoughtlessness 
 of childhood, in the follies of youth, in 
 the cares and anxieties of manhood, in 
 the pains and infirmities of old age, in 
 sleep, necessary recreations, dressing and 
 refreshments of the body ; how much, 
 or rather how little, will remain for the 
 exercise of our mental faculties, which 
 alone distinguish us from the brute cre- 
 ation ? Would the wise Creator have en- 
 dowed us with a reasonable soul, to be 
 annihilated after such a short period of 
 reflection ? 
 
 Besides, if we attend to the common 
 calamities of human life, why should 
 
118 MEDITATION VII. 
 
 we imagine, that a gracious God would 
 send man into the world to suffer so 
 much., and then to be utterly de- 
 stroyed? The evils we are subject to 
 from natural distempers, from accidental 
 hurts, from our own vice and folly, and 
 from the violence and wickedness of 
 others, are innumerable; in so much, 
 that all writers, ancient and modern, 
 sacred and prophane, philosophers, his- 
 torians, and poets, agree in lamenting 
 the afflictions of mankind. To mention 
 but a few instances of the most extra- 
 ordinary of these calamities : The uni- 
 versal deluge, the plague of Athens, the 
 destruction of Jerusalem, the persecu- 
 tions and wars on account of religion, 
 the irruptions of barbarous nations into 
 the more civilized countries of Europe, 
 the late earthquake of Lisbon, and the 
 present war in Germany ! How can we 
 reconcile these horrid scenes with the 
 
OF A FUTURE STATE. 119 
 
 power,, wisdom, and goodness of God 
 in his government of the world, if man 
 was created only to endure such shock- 
 ing miseries, and then to vanish into 
 nothing ? It has been calculated by emi- 
 nent mathematicians,* that half the 
 human race dies before seventeen. If 
 therefore this life is but the beginning 
 of our existence, and scarce long enough 
 to discipline and qualify us for the en- 
 joyment of the remaining part, what 
 folly, what madness is it to waste the 
 present period in any pursuit which will 
 be destructive to us when it comes to a 
 close ! Sensual pleasures unlawfully gra- 
 tified, and riches or power badly em- 
 ployed, will obstruct our future felicity. 
 Nothing but piety and virtue can qualify 
 us for happiness in the yet invisible part 
 
 * See Halley's tables, calculated from the bills 
 of mortality in Silesia, and the rules laid down for 
 estimating the chances of the duration of lives. 
 
ISO MEDITATION VII. 
 
 of our duration : Nothing else is worth 
 our attention., and whatever stands in 
 opposition to them should be rejected 
 with abhorrence. We must look upon 
 ourselves as individuals only of the great 
 system of the universe, unuer the go- 
 vernment of one supreme and perfect 
 Being-. We must, as far as lies in our 
 power, aim at the prosperity of the whole, 
 without ever attempting to rob another 
 member of the community of any part 
 of his convenience in this life, in order 
 to appropriate that convenience to our- 
 selves. In short, we must sincerely en- 
 deavour to do our duty, according to 
 the plain and known laws of God, and 
 habituate our minds here to partake of 
 the pure and virtuous pleasures of that 
 society, into which we desire to be ad- 
 mitted hereafter, and, with a humble 
 submission to the divine will, rather be 
 pleased than terrified at the prospect or 
 approach of our removal. 
 
OF A FUTURE STATE. 121 
 
 Almighty and most merciful Father, 
 author of my life and all my comforts,, 
 who hast vouchsafed to create me after 
 thine own image, and to make me capa- 
 ble of enjoying thy presence and favour 
 for ever, let me not deface that image 
 by sin and rebellion against thee. En- 
 able me to keep my affections and ap- 
 petites perpetually under the govern- 
 ment of reason,, and let piety and virtue 
 prevail over every opposition to them 
 in my soul, during this present state of 
 trial. And, since the struggle cannot 
 now continue long, let me enter the lists 
 against every corruption of my heart, 
 with resolution and perseverance, wait- 
 ing cheerfully for that blessed day, when 
 the tumult of my passions shall subside 
 in peace, and temptations to levity or 
 vice shall delude no longer. 
 
12% 
 
 MEDITATION VIII. 
 
 OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 
 
 TO conquer ourselves, or to bridle 
 and check every appetite and passion 
 that arise in our minds in opposition 
 to reason, is a noble victory, and 
 worthy to be obtained, at the expence 
 of any labour or trouble which it may 
 cost us. Human life, in this world, is 
 properly called a warfare : Our appe- 
 tites and passions, or the brutal part of 
 our composition, are perpetually rebel- 
 ling against our reason, sometimes as- 
 saulting it with open violence, and some- 
 times surprising it by snares too artfully 
 laid to be avoided. 
 
 To view the numbers and strength 
 of the enemy drawn up against reason., 
 
OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 123 
 
 to bring it under subjection, is indeed 
 terrible. Furious anger, fierce lust, 
 brutal intemperance, rancorous envy, 
 cruel covetousness, barbarous revenge, 
 indecent pride, dark treachery, and all 
 the horrid train of corruption that dwells 
 in an undisciplined heart; all these in 
 their turns advancing against reason, 
 constitute a strong and dreadful band of 
 adversaries, which must be opposed with 
 the most firm and resolute courage. 
 Reason indeed has its auxiliaries ; con- 
 science, the witness of God within the 
 soul, perpetually declaring for it against 
 every kind of known wickedness ; dis- 
 grace and shame, together with the re- 
 straint of human laws, to withstand vio- 
 lence and fraud ; sad examples of dis- 
 eases and poverty, to check lust and in- 
 temperance ; a moral sense of benevo- 
 lence and humanity, to resist covetous- 
 ness,, anger, and malice ; and that peace 
 
124r MEDITATION VIII. 
 
 of mind, and unspeakable complacency, 
 which always attend beneficence, to op- 
 pose envy and revenge. But, alas, with 
 all these resources, reason has generally 
 proved too weak for its adversaries, in 
 so much, that the wisest observers of 
 human nature have pronounced the ma- 
 jority * among mankind to be wicked, 
 while only a few exalted + spirits, after 
 a long and resolute struggle, have been 
 able to conquer their appetites and pas- 
 sions, and bring them under a thorough 
 subjection to reason. 
 
 This was almost universally the case 
 of the world before the appearance of 
 Christ ; nor need we wonder at it, 
 since the best cultivated spirits among 
 the heathens were dubious of the im- 
 mortality of the soul. Socrates himself 
 
 * nx«ove$ xclxou Bias. 
 
 + Pauci quos ardens evexit ad aethera 
 
 virtus. Virg, 
 
OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 135 
 
 discourses with great uncertainty about 
 it just before his death : And this uni- 
 versal uncertainty made some of the 
 brightest geniuses of antiquity treat the 
 rewards and punishments of a future 
 life as mere fables;* for if the soul, 
 said they, did not subsist after death, 
 how should it be affected with rewards 
 and punishments? Or, if its existence 
 was at best but dubious, wherein con- 
 sisted men's encouragement to virtue ? 
 And how should a hard race be run 
 with vigour, for a prize which no man 
 was sure of obtaining, suppose he had 
 conquered? But blessed be the God 
 of all mercies, the case is now much 
 mended, if men would be just to them- 
 selves. The Saviour of the world, who 
 knew the necessity of righteousness, 
 in order to be happy, knew also our 
 
 * Mox te premet nox,fabulaeque manes, 
 
 Et dpmus exilis Plutonia. Hoe. 
 
126 MEDITATION VIII. 
 
 frailty and temptations to sin., and has 
 therefore given greater encourage- 
 ments^ and proposed more powerful 
 motives and inducements to the prac- 
 tice of virtue than the world ever 
 heard of before; and thereby has 
 added a weight to the scale of reason,, 
 which ought to preponderate against 
 every opposition. If you ask what 
 these motives and encouragements 
 are ? I answer, in the first place. 
 That our Redeemer has ascertained 
 the immortality of the soul, which 
 he .alone could do, who came from 
 the Father of spirits, who perfectly 
 knew the nature of the soul of man, 
 and the purposes for which it was 
 created. Secondly, He has discovered 
 the necessity which the soul is to un- 
 dergo, to habituate itself to the love 
 and practice of virtue, in order to qua- 
 lify it for admission into that abode of 
 
OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 127 
 
 purity and holiness, where nothing un- 
 clean can ever enter; and, indeed, 
 where no spirit, continuing wicked or 
 impure, would ever be happy, or re- 
 lish the enjoyments of that blessed so- 
 ciety, suppose it could enter. Nor can 
 I possibly conceive, what well grounded 
 hope, or prospect, a sinner can enter- 
 tain of future happiness, without believ- 
 ing in the merits and satisfaction of 
 Christ. He stands, without doubt, 
 guilty of many transgressions, for which 
 he can neither make any excuse to 
 God, nor any restitution to the party 
 offended. And therefore, as he can 
 make no atonement, how can he ex- 
 pect forgiveness ? Whereas the Chris- 
 tian has a positive promise from God, 
 through the merits and mediation of 
 Jesus Christ, of forgiveness and recon- 
 ciliation, provided he will repent of the 
 evil of his ways, and sincerely resolve 
 
128 MEDITATION VIII. 
 
 to do his duty for the future. Thirdly, 
 He has given us a most gracious assu- 
 rance, that the holy Spirit of God shall 
 effectually assist all who sincerely en- 
 deavour to do their duty ; and shall 
 either preserve them from temptation, 
 or support and deliver them when they 
 are tempted. And fourthly, He has 
 suffered death on the cross, to vindicate 
 the honour of God's laws, to shew the 
 odiousness of sin, to obtain pardon for 
 the sincere penitent, and restore him 
 to the favour of the Deity. 
 
 With this assistance and encourage- 
 ment, therefore, we may conquer** our 
 passions, if we endeavour it in good 
 earnest, and we have none to blame 
 but ourselves for any misery brought 
 upon us by our vices. What can a 
 wicked man now plead in his own 
 justification, when he appears before 
 the impartial tribunal of the righteous 
 
OF CONQUERING OURSELVES. 129 
 
 Judge of the universe ? Will he dare 
 to affirm, that as often as his conscience 
 remonstrated against his inclination to 
 sin, so often, at that instant, he earnest- 
 ly intreated of God, for Christ's sa^e, 
 to assist him with his holy Spirit to con- 
 quer the corrupt propensity of his 
 heart ? Ah no ! for then the Father of 
 mercies would have granted his re- 
 quest. 
 
 Almighty and most gracious God, 
 who, of thy infinite mercy, hast sent 
 thy Son into the world, to bring life 
 and immortality to the clearest light, to 
 redeem lost man, and to assure him of 
 the assistance of thy holy Spirit, under 
 every trial and temptation, while he is 
 sincerely determined to do his duty, 
 and art ready, at his earnest request, 
 to strengthen him in the practice of 
 every virtue : Since thou hast done so 
 much for us, O let our stubborn hearts 
 & 
 
130 MEDITATION VIII. 
 
 be softened by such a profusion of fa- 
 vours ; let us, under thy protection^ 
 struggle vigorously against every appe- 
 tite and passion, that would draw us 
 aside from piety and virtue ; and let us 
 not basely betray ourselves, and court 
 our own ruin, while thou graciously 
 desirest that we should repent, amend,, 
 and be for ever happy . 
 
131 
 
 MEDITATION IX 
 
 OF REPENTANCE. 
 
 WE are commanded to repent of our 
 past sins, and amend our lives, if we 
 expect admittance in the kingdom of 
 God, which may be truly and literally 
 said to be near to every individual now 
 living upon earth, because the day of 
 death will quickly overtake every one of 
 us, and fix our doom for ever. 
 
 The word repentance is, in the origi- 
 nal Greek of the New Testament, called 
 ptrocvoia, which signifies a thorough 
 change of mind. When a sinner, 
 therefore, is commanded to repent, 
 the meaning is, that whereas hitherto 
 he has gone on in a course of wicked- 
 ness, he must now change his mind 
 
 K2 
 
132 MEDITATION IX. 
 
 entirely ; he must be sensible of and 
 grieved for his former errors,, and must, 
 during the time to come of his life., 
 proceed in a new and contrary course 
 of righteousness. 
 
 The necessity of this change of mind 
 will evidently appear, if we reflect on 
 the infinite holiness of God ; on the pu- 
 rity and piety of angels ; on the sanctity 
 and benevolence of the spirits of good 
 men , who inhabit the regions of bliss and 
 immortality. How absurd and unna- 
 tural must it be to imagine, that crea- 
 tures immersed in sensuality and volup- 
 tuousness^ tainted with envy, hatred, 
 and malice, habituated to pride, covet- 
 ousness, and lying, or delighted with 
 the practice of fraud, cruelty, and re- 
 venge, should be admitted citizens of 
 the new Jerusalem, wherein dwelleth 
 righteousness, and into which any thing 
 that dejlleth shall in no ways enter ! 
 
OF REPENTANCE. 133 
 
 But suppose sinners should be admitted, 
 without a sincere reformation of mind, 
 what must be the consequence ? If we 
 seriously consider the refined pleasures 
 and transcendent joys of those blessed 
 regions, which consist in conversing and 
 having an intimacy with angels and 
 blessed spirits, full of knowledge, bene- 
 volence, purity, and integrity ; and in 
 being received into the presence^ God, 
 to contemplate his perfections, and to 
 imitate them in a manner adapted to our 
 faculties, in holiness, goodness, and 
 truth ; how can we imagine it possible, 
 that an unreformed sinner should be 
 properly qualified to partake of or de- 
 light in such entertainments ? 
 
 Shall it be said, that the Almighty 
 will himself change their minds instan- 
 taneously, and make habitual sinners 
 become holy in a moment, without any 
 previous repentance ? We do not dis- 
 
134 MEDITATION IX. 
 
 pute the omnipotence of God, or that 
 he can from stones raise up children to 
 Abraham. But if it be probable that 
 God ever will, by an act of power,, 
 change an impenitent sinner into a saint, 
 why are we desired to work out our sal- 
 vation with fear and trembling f Why 
 are we commanded by God to be holy, 
 for he is holy? Why are we told the 
 soul that sinneth, he shall die f And 
 why have we catalogues given us in Scrip- 
 ture, of sins which are expressly de- 
 clared to exclude men from the kingdom 
 of heaven ? In short, if men may com* 
 mit what wickedness they please/ and 
 God will nevertheless make them holy 
 in an instant, without any previous re- 
 pentance, it will follow, that all those 
 precepts which recommend the practice 
 of piety and virtue, are at best useless, 
 and might very well be spared. 
 
 It was the opinion of the heathen 
 
OF REPENTANCE. 135 
 
 philosophers, that the joys of the Ely- 
 sian fields consisted principally in men's 
 diverting themselves with the same 
 amusements, and in partaking- of the 
 same entertainments, which gave them 
 the highest pleasure* in this world. 
 And Mohammed's paradise differs very 
 little from the Pagan Elysium. But 
 how gross soever these notions be, they 
 plainly intimate, that it was natural to 
 imagine, that the habits with which 
 men left this world, should remain with 
 them in the next, and according as these 
 habits were virtuous or criminal, should 
 there become their torment or felicity. 
 And though the joys of heaven, which 
 the Christian religion has revealed, are 
 infinitely more pure, refined, and per- 
 fect, than those which the heathens or 
 
 ■quae gratia curruum 
 
 Armorumque fuit vivis, quae cura nitentes 
 
 Pascere equos, eadem sequitur tellure repostos. Virg, 
 
136 MEDITATION IX. 
 
 Mohammedans have imagined, yet still 
 our religion teaches us, that we must 
 be initiated into these joys on earth., be- 
 fore we can possess or relish them in 
 heaven ; that is, we must endeavour to 
 practise holiness, righteousness, charity, 
 and every other virtue here, before we 
 can hope to take delight in the practice 
 of them hereafter, since, in the perfec- 
 tion, and universality of piety and vir- 
 tue, the pleasures of those happy man- 
 sions do in a great measure consist. 
 From this we plainly perceive, that the 
 commandment which enjoins us repen- 
 tance, (like all the other commandments 
 of God) is calculated purely for our own 
 benefit, because, without this obedi- 
 ence, we exclude ourselves from that 
 felicity which Christ has purchased for 
 us, and which is offered to us on the 
 conditions of the gospel. 
 
 But farther, repentance is not only 
 
OF REPENTANCE. 137 
 
 calculated for our benefit, we have also 
 great encouragement to the practice of 
 it, by the earnest invitation which our 
 merciful Father gives us to return to 
 him from the error of our ways ; (e Cast 
 (C away all your transgressions, and 
 " make you a new heart and a new 
 <c spirit, for I have no pleasure in the 
 " death of him that dieth, says the Lord 
 tc God, wherefore turn yourselves and 
 cc live." Again, ff If the wicked man 
 cc will turn from all his sins that he has 
 " committed, and keep all my statutes, 
 <e he shall surely live, and his transgres- 
 te sions that he has committed shall not 
 " be mentioned unto him." Add to this 
 the declaration made in the gospel, that 
 there is joy in heaven over a sinner that 
 repenteth. And also the example of 
 the prodigal son : Both which are 
 amazing instances of the goodness and 
 compassion of our heavenly Father,, and, 
 
138 MEDITATION IX. 
 
 to a mind susceptible of gratitude, an 
 irresistible inducement to repentance. 
 
 Merciful God ! shall we be such des- 
 perate enemies to ourselves, and so fa- 
 tally negligent of our own happiness, as 
 to slight this commandment, of chang- 
 ing our heedless and vicious course of 
 life, and returning to thee, while yet it 
 is in our power to rescue ourselves from 
 everlasting misery ? 
 
 And now to bring this doctrine of 
 repentance home to myself: What have 
 I to plead in excuse for my sins, and for 
 my backwardness to repent and amend ? 
 How often hast thou, my Father and my 
 God, by heaping thy favours upon me, 
 invited me to taste and see that thou 
 art gracious ! while at the same time, 
 the stubbornness of my passions and ap- 
 petites, and the allurements of sin, have 
 made me cold and backward in thy 
 service! I should probably have pe- 
 
OP REPENTANCE. ' 139 
 
 rished in the foolish indulgence of these 
 appetites and passions, if thou, of thy 
 infinite compassion, hadst not been 
 pleased to spare me, until age and reflec- 
 tion have, in some measure, abated their 
 power over my reason. And shall I, to 
 the last, make a bad use of all thy fa- 
 vours ? Shall I now, instead of the mad 
 pranks and follies of youth, adopt the 
 crafty and over-reaching sins of age ? 
 Forsake me not, O my gracious Lord, 
 when I am old and grey-headed. I 
 have been estranged from thee too long, 
 let me now draw near to thee with a 
 fixed resolution, never to depart from 
 my duty for the future. Let shame 
 and grief, for my former transgressions, 
 possess my soul with an abhorrence 
 against every deviation from my duty in 
 time coming. Let the remembrance of 
 thy mercies inspire my soul with grati- 
 tude to thee, my great benefactor ; and 
 
140 MEDITATION IX. 
 
 let my hope, through Christ, of thy ac- 
 ceptance of my service, (miserable as it 
 is, and wretched, alas ! as the offerings 
 of a frail heart are still likely to be) de- 
 termine my soul to serve thee, if not 
 perfectly, yet, at least, sincerely , during 
 the short remainder of my continuance 
 m a vain and vicious world. 
 
141 
 
 MEDITATION X, 
 
 OF HEAVEN. 
 
 THOUGH the Almighty is present 
 every where, and is not far from any 
 of us, as in him we live, move, and 
 have our being, yet his operations on 
 earth are invisible to mortal eyes. ec Be- 
 st hold I go forward, but he is not there ; 
 ce and backward, but I cannot perceive 
 " him : On the left hand, where he does 
 fC work, but I cannot behold him : he 
 <e hideth himself on the right hand, that 
 rc I cannot see him."* Heaven is the 
 place where he displays his glory, and 
 manifests himself openly to his servants. 
 It will also be the final and everlasting 
 
 * Job xxiii. 8, 9. 
 
142 MEDITATION X, 
 
 abode of just men made perfect, where 
 their joys will be complete beyond the 
 utmost extent of their hopes or wishes. 
 Those blessed souls which adhered to 
 the commandments of God,, in spite of 
 all the temptations and snares of a 
 wicked world, and ran with patience 
 the race that was set before them, are 
 there, through the merits and interces- 
 sion of the Redeemer of mankind, re- 
 warded with everlasting felicity and 
 glory. O wretched and foolish heart ! 
 wilt thou forfeit this prospect of happi- 
 ness for the sake of gratifying an unruly 
 appetite, a corrupt passion, or an ill- 
 judged affection, for any thing that this 
 transitory life can afford ? Can any so- 
 ciety be equal to that of angels ? Can 
 any felicity be conceived so great, as 
 that of being admitted into the presence 
 and fav6ur of God ? And (to speak of 
 joys less sublime and more familiar to 
 
OP HEAVEN. 143 
 
 our narrow apprehensions) what charms 
 will it not add to the heavenly mansions,, 
 to enjoy the innocent and entertain- 
 ing conversation of those great men., 
 who in all ages have made themselves 
 renowned for virtue., genius,, and know- 
 ledge ? especially as those extraordinary 
 qualities are then discovered pure and 
 unmixed with vice or error. What a 
 heightening it is to this entertainment, 
 that envy, hatred, and malice, so detest- 
 able and mischievous on earth, are now 
 no more ; and that their place is sup- 
 plied by love, sincerity, and universal be- 
 neficence. Here poverty, sickness, and 
 pain are unknown, where prosperity, 
 vigour, and ease reign for ever ! Mo- 
 roseness and peevishness are excluded, 
 while cheerfulness and complacency 
 adorn every mind. Fraud, falsehood, 
 and oppression are all strangers, in a 
 region where goodness, justice and up- 
 
144 MEDITATION X. 
 
 Tightness dwell in every heart; where 
 joy smiles in every eye,, and glory crowns 
 every head ; and where (in the intervals 
 of praise, adoration, and thanksgiving, 
 offered to the majesty of the Supreme 
 Being) a free and familiar conversation 
 with angels, saints, and ever blessed 
 friends, enlarges, ennobles arid exalts 
 the soul. 
 
145 
 
 MEDITATION XL 
 
 OF PRAYER. 
 
 WHEN we consider our natural 
 dependence on God, who created us, 
 who preserves us, who supplies all 
 our wants here, and from whom 
 alone we expect happiness hereafter, 
 there cannot be a more valuable pri- 
 vilege conferred upon us than to have 
 daily and hourly access to this great 
 and gracious Being, to be permitted to 
 lay all our complaints before him, and 
 to offer our supplications to him for re- 
 lief. But, happily for us, we are not 
 only permitted, we are also invited and 
 exhorted to pray to him, and assured, 
 that he who seeketh shall find, and that 
 to him who knocketh it shall be opened. 
 x. 
 
146 MEDITATION XI. 
 
 That it is our highest honour, and 
 the greatest mercy that can be shewed 
 us., to be thus required to address God, 
 we shall easily apprehend, if, on the 
 one hand, we consider his infinite wis- 
 dom, power, and goodness, and, on the 
 other hand, our own weakness, igno- 
 rance, and wretchedness ; that we are 
 the lowest of all the rational creation, 
 and that by sin we have made ourselves 
 miserable, and poor, and blind, and 
 naked. 
 
 But why should we pray, since God 
 knows our wants before we ask, and our 
 ignorance in asking, and since his good- 
 ness is infinite towards his creatures, 
 and ready to supply all their necessities ? 
 I answer, 1st, Because God commands 
 us to pray, and what are we, that we 
 should dispute his orders ? 2nd, To pray 
 shews that we are sensible of our wants 
 and of our dependence, which should 
 
OF PRAYER. 147 
 
 make us more earnest in asking assistance, 
 and more thankful when it is obtained. 
 
 What is prayer ? Prayer is a devout 
 lifting up of our souls to God in faith 
 and hope, to implore his blessing, and 
 comprehends adoration, confession, pe- 
 tition, and thanksgiving. 
 
 As to adoration, what can be more 
 reasonable or becoming our condition 
 than to adore him to whom we owe all 
 our comforts; that Eternal Being of 
 infinite wisdom, power, and goodness, 
 from whom we derive our existence, 
 and upon whom alone we depend for 
 every good thing that we either enjoy 
 or expect. The thought is boundless ! 
 For whether we contemplate the inef- 
 fable perfection of the Deity, or our 
 own pitiable indigence, a thousand rea- 
 sons crowd in upon us which engage 
 us to thank, to praise, and to adore our 
 Friend, our Father, and our God, 
 
 l 2 
 
148 MEDITATION XI. 
 
 A second part of prayer is confession. 
 How can we expect forgiveness of our 
 sins, unless we are sensible of them ? 
 And if we are sensible that we have of- 
 fended., our next step is to be sorry for 
 them,, to take shame to ourselves, to 
 confess our trespasses ingenuously be- 
 fore our Master whom we have offend- 
 ed, to implore his pardon, for the sake 
 of our Redeemer, and resolve, with the 
 * assistance of his Holy Spirit, to sin no 
 more. Since he who knows our frailty 
 has been graciously pleased to accept 
 of our repentance, instead of unsinning 
 obedience, which is not in our power, 
 shall we endeavour to hide those sins 
 of which we are determined to repent ? 
 No surely ; we must acknowledge our 
 faults before we can be in a disposition 
 to amend. It is true, that God, in 
 whose presence we commit all our wick- 
 edness, knows them perfectly without 
 our confession ; but it is also true, that 
 
OF PRAYER. 149 
 
 God requires our acknowledgment,, not 
 to inform him of our guilt, but to testify 
 our contrition, and our desire to re- 
 turn from a course of unrighteousness 
 and misery., into the road of virtue and 
 happiness. 
 
 Prayer, in the third place, compre- 
 hends petition, according to that excel- 
 lent pattern set before us by our Lord, 
 in which there are four petitions : 1 . 
 Give us this day our daily bread. 2. 
 Forgive us our trespasses. 3. Lead us 
 not into temptation. 4. Deliver us from 
 evil. The reasonableness and necessity 
 of these petitions are obvious to the 
 slightest consideration. 1. Give us this 
 day our daily bread. There is no man, 
 from the king who sits on the throne, 
 to the beggar who lies in the street, but 
 stands in need of preferring this peti- 
 tion. Suppose a man ever so rich, he 
 cannot eat his silver or gold, or clothe 
 
150 MEDITATION XI. 
 
 himself with his woods or fields; and 
 unless the Almighty vouchsafes to crown 
 the year with his blessing, there will 
 neither be bread to eat, nor wool nor 
 flax to clothe the greatest among man- 
 kind. Lamentable, therefore, is the 
 vanity of that fool who fancies himself 
 independent on God in any respect, since 
 the highest and haughtiest man on earth 
 (however his pride and ignorance may 
 prompt him to think otherwise), de- 
 pends on God for his daily subsistence, 
 as much as the beasts of the field, and 
 the fishes of the sea, who all wait upon 
 him, that he may give them their meat 
 in due season. 
 
 The second petition, Forgive us our 
 trespasses, is not less necessary to be pre- 
 ferred. As, on the one hand, we sin 
 daily against God, and the imaginations 
 of our hearts are evil continually ; and 
 since, on the other hand, God is holy^ 
 
OF PRAYER. 151 
 
 and hates sin ; it follows,, that we must 
 be either punished for our iniquities., 
 or obtain forgiveness of them on the 
 conditions proposed in the gospel. 
 
 As to the third petition., Lead us not 
 into temptation. When we reflect on 
 our situation in this world,, and the 
 many obstructions we meet with in the 
 road to virtue, we have great reason to 
 watch and pray, that we enter not into 
 temptation. We find, from sad expe- 
 rience, that the enticements of the world 
 from without are laying continual snares 
 for us, to make us prefer pleasure, pro- 
 fit, or power, to our duty ; while our 
 appetites and passions from within are 
 ready to betray, and give us up to their ' 
 delusion. What can a wretch do there- 
 fore who is destitute of God's assistance 
 to protect him from such powerful ad- 
 versaries ? Is he not like a ship in a tem- 
 pest without a pilot, ready to be dashed 
 
152 MEDITATION XL 
 
 to pieces by the first rock or bank that 
 comes in his way ? 
 
 The fourth petition., Deliver us from 
 evil, is also indispensably required to be 
 offered up in our daily prayers. What 
 a dreadful number of moral and na- 
 tural evils do continually surround usj, 
 which we can neither foresee nor pre- 
 vent. And where can we be secure 
 from their attacks, but under the pro- 
 tection of that Being of infinite goodness 
 and power, who is able and willing to 
 assist us if we make him our sole de- 
 pendence ? 
 
 In the last place, prayer comprehends 
 thanksgiving. If food and raiment, 
 health and liberty, the use of reason, 
 the sense of religion, the prospect of 
 felicity and every blessing which we 
 enjoy here, or hope for hereafter, can 
 fill our hearts with gratitude to the source 
 from which we derive them all, ought 
 
OF PRAYER. 153 
 
 we not to bless and magnify the glorious 
 name of God, and to have his praise per- 
 petually in our hearts and mouths ? 
 
 O most holy and merciful God, slow 
 to anger, and of great kindness, I have 
 sinned, what shall I say unto thee, O 
 thou preserver of men. If thou wilt 
 contend with me, I cannot answer one 
 of a thousand. I am ashamed to lift up 
 my face unto thee. Have mercy upon 
 me, O God, according to thy great 
 goodness, according to the multitude of 
 thy mercies, do away mine iniquities. 
 And let the sufferings of thy beloved 
 Son atone for my trespasses. Lead me, 
 for my Redeemer's sake, O lead me in 
 the way everlasting. Teach me to do 
 the thing that pleases thee, for thou art 
 my God. Guide me with thy counsel 
 here, and after that receive me with 
 mercy. Forsake me not when I am 
 old and grey headed, but conduct me, 
 
154 MEDITATION XI. 
 
 by thy holy Spirit,, through the few steps 
 which yet remain of my passage to that 
 eternal peace, where temptation, sin, 
 sorrow and death are unknown. Let 
 thy kingdom of universal righteousness, 
 charity, holiness and happiness come; 
 and let thy blessed will be done in earth 
 as it is in heaven. Be gracious to all 
 in distress, O Father of the universe, 
 and let every knee bow to thee, every 
 tongue confess to thee, and every heart 
 adore thee, and let the earth be full of 
 the knowledge and praise of the Lord^ 
 as the waters cover the sea. 
 
155 
 
 MEDITATION XII. 
 
 OF THE WORKS OF CREATION AND 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 IT is impossible to observe what passes 
 in the natural or moral world, without 
 acknowledging the wonderful power 
 and wisdom of God in the creation of 
 the one, and the government of the 
 other. Why does the sun move annually 
 in the ecliptic, and not in the equator ? 
 Is it not to give thereby a comfortable 
 vicissitude of cold and heat, of winter 
 and summer to the earth ; and, by that 
 means, to bestow food and health on all 
 its inhabitants ? For winter,* though 
 it seems desolating to the inattentive, is 
 
 * See Essay on the Theory of Agriculture. 
 
156 MEDITATION XII. 
 
 nevertheless happily employed,, in re- 
 plenishing the soil with materials for 
 vegetation,, necessary to the productions 
 of the following seasons,, which, by their 
 gradual heat, bring the fruits of the 
 earth to their proper growth and ripe- 
 ness. Why is the ocean agitated with 
 a never ceasing flux and reflux ? Is it 
 not to prevent its waters from stagnat- 
 ing and growing putrid, and thereby 
 destroying not only all the living crea- 
 tures within it, but also all that are near 
 it, as far as the noisome stench, and pes- 
 tiferous infection, could extend ? What 
 rolls the earth every day on its axis? 
 The merciful appointment of God, in 
 order to apply its several parts, succes- 
 sively, to the enlivening rays of the sun, 
 which cherish all its inhabitants, and 
 produce such an endless variety of pro- 
 visions for their subsistence. Why do 
 the fixed stars seem, like so many suns, to 
 
OF THE WORKS OF CREATION. 157 
 
 animate their respective systems through 
 the immense bounds of space? Do they 
 not set forth to every discerning eye, 
 the infinite power,, glory, and omnipre- 
 sence of the Creator ? And do not the 
 respective inhabitants of these systems 
 seem all to partake of his fatherly good- 
 ness ? But to describe worthily the ma- 
 jesty and wisdom of the Almighty in his 
 works, great or small, is above the reach 
 of the human mind; as we see, that 
 every year, and every day, for ages past, 
 have to the diligent enquirer disco- 
 vered new beauties in them all ; and will, 
 for ages to come, still discover new 
 beauties and wonders, until the enquiry 
 ceases, or time shall be no more. For, 
 are they not all contrived with such 
 amazing powers and springs of action, 
 so properly adjusted to their respective 
 natures, that they must for ever declare 
 the incomprehensible wisdom of the 
 
158 MEDITATION XII. 
 
 Maker, and perpetually raise the admi- 
 ration of all diligent and judicious ob- 
 servers ? 
 
 Nor are the wisdom and goodness of 
 God less conspicuous in his moral go- 
 vernment of the world, than in its first 
 production. Having made man capable 
 of happiness, he has given him all 
 imaginable encouragement to attain 
 that happiness. He has enabled every 
 soul clearly to discern the essential and 
 eternal difference between moral good 
 and evil. He has endowed him with 
 freedom of will, to chuse the one, and 
 refuse the other. He has promised end- 
 less felicity to those who will pursue a 
 course of virtue, and has denounced 
 perpetual misery to such as will persist 
 in wickedness. The precepts which 
 we are commanded to observe and 
 practise, all naturally tend to promote 
 our peace and satisfaction here, as well 
 
OF THE WORRS OF CREATION. 159 
 
 us our endless beatitude hereafter. He 
 has comforted man under his natural 
 frailties and infirmities, by accepting 
 repentance and amendment, instead of 
 unsinning obedience, for the sake of 
 the atonement made for sin by the Re- 
 deemer of the universe. He has pro- 
 mised the aid of his Spirit to those who 
 sincerely endeavour to serve him. He 
 exhorts them to offer up their prayers 
 to him for a daily supply of all their 
 wants, with assurance, that he will ef- 
 fectually relieve them, by doing always 
 what will tend most to the advantage 
 of the sincere and upright petitioner. 
 Add to this, that he has planted con- 
 science in the soul, to sting man with 
 remorse upon committing wickedness, 
 but to give serenity, peace, and joy to 
 him who has performed his duty. 
 
 Lastly, as to a particular providence 
 over individuals, a slight attention to 
 
160 MEDITATION XII. 
 
 what happens, either to one's self, or 
 one's acquaintance, every day, cannot 
 fail to exhibit many signal proofs of 
 God's immediate care over every single 
 creature in the universe, and of the truth 
 of what the gospel declares, that he 
 clothes the grass of the field, and not a 
 sparrow is forgotten before him. What 
 others have observed, I know not ; but 
 as to myself, so many and so various 
 have been the mercies, which in every 
 period of my life, I received from my 
 gracious God, that I have not words 
 sufficient to express my thankfulness. 
 
161 
 
 MEDITATION XIII. 
 
 CONCERNING SEVERAL VICES OF WHICH MEN 
 ARE DAILY GUILTY, WITHOUT ATTENDING 
 TO THE HEINOUSNESS OF THEM. 
 
 SOME of these vices are uncleanness, 
 covetousness, anger, calumny, revenge, 
 envy, pride, lying, intemperance, loss 
 of time, neglect of duty, repining at 
 the dispensations of Providence, fret- 
 fulness, ingratitude, deceiving in small 
 things, and a heart not upright with 
 God : All which I shall briefly consider 
 in the order here laid down. 
 
 In committing uncleanness, you mul- 
 tiply sin, by insnaring the innocent ; and 
 when once you have debauched and 
 ruined them, it is out of your power to 
 
 M 
 
162 MEDITATION XIII. 
 
 reclaim them., or make them sufficient 
 reparation for the guilt into which you 
 have drawn them. Thus you bring an 
 accumulated guilt upon your own head, 
 for which you stand accountable to the 
 great Judge of the universe. In what 
 manner can you atone for that multi- 
 plication of sin ? Let us suppose that by 
 repentance and amendment, you should 
 obtain pardon for yourself, yet the other 
 party may persist in vice, to which you 
 pointed the way ; and would it not make 
 your heart tremble, and fill you with 
 terror and amazement, to reflect, that 
 for a momentary gratification, you have 
 been the cause of infinite misery to a 
 creature, made after the image of God, 
 which might have continued innocent, 
 had not your fatal temptation inter- 
 vened ? 
 
 Covetousness is idolatry, by which you 
 affront the Almighty, because you give 
 
OF VICE. 163 
 
 that attention, and pay that assiduous 
 service to mammon, which is due to 
 God only. It is also frequently pro- 
 ductive of great distress to your neigh- 
 bour, for which you must make him 
 reparation, or expect to be proportion- 
 ably punished, whether you have got 
 possession of his substance, either by 
 fraud, or by violence. And should it 
 not make the heart of the covetous man 
 tremble, to think how he is represented 
 by the holy Spirit who calls him the 
 covetous whom God abhorreth ! 
 
 Wrath is like an unruly horse, which 
 you must curb and keep in with a 
 strong bridle, for if once you give him 
 his head, he may run away with you 
 to your destruction. Or, it is like fire, 
 from which you must keep at a distance, 
 for if it once seizes upon you, it may 
 burn you to ashes. Be cautious there- 
 fore, and when you first perceive your 
 m 2 
 
164 MEDITATION XIII. 
 
 choler or indignation to be moved, flee 
 and make your escape to God for pro- 
 tection, and implore his aid, that it may 
 not fasten upon you suddenly. Your 
 own reason, if you will consult it, Avill 
 teach you the necessity of this caution 
 and retreat. Since, therefore, you know 
 the consequence, check your passion by 
 all means possible, and parry the danger. 
 
 Calumny is both foolish and wicked, 
 it does no good to the re viler, nor works 
 any reformation in the reviled. This 
 sin proceeds most frequently from ma- 
 lice, which is odious to the Deity; so 
 that, in committing it, you offend the 
 great Lord and Father of the universe, 
 without doing the least good, either to 
 yourself, or to another. 
 
 Revenge is inconsistent with peace 
 here, or happiness hereafter. In con- 
 triving the means of executing venge- 
 ance, you lose your inward satisfaction 
 
OF VICE. 165 
 
 and tranquillity of mind; and in re- 
 solving not to forgive your enemies,, 
 according to God's positive command, 
 you forfeit your claim to that pardon 
 of your own trespasses, which is pro- 
 mised to those only who forgive the in- 
 juries done to themselves. Is there any 
 degree of wisdom in this behaviour ? 
 You will not forgive an hundred pence 
 to your fellow servant, but execute your 
 revenge, and take him by the throat, 
 until he pays the debt, regardless, at the 
 same time, of the ten thousand talents 
 you owe to your Master, who, at your 
 humble request, would have compassion 
 on you, if your unrelenting cruelty to 
 another had not obstructed his mercy. 
 
 Envy is both an impious and au- 
 dacious vice. To be dissatisfied with 
 the distribution that the wise Father of 
 the universe makes of the good things 
 of this world, which are all his own 
 
166 MEDITATION XIII. 
 
 property, and which, for excellent rea- 
 sons, he dispenses to different persons,, 
 in various proportions, looks like calling 
 him to account for his government, as 
 if frail man could have ordered things 
 better, and made a more equitable par- 
 tition. Shocking blasphemy! What im- 
 piety and impudence is this ! and yet 
 to envy our neighbour for the favours 
 which God has bestowed upon him, is 
 to arraign Providence as partial to him, 
 and regardless of our extraordinary 
 merit, of which we ourselves entertain 
 a high and groundless opinion. 
 
 Pride is a silly unnatural vice, and 
 was not made for man who sprang from 
 the dust. What has he to be proud of? 
 Is birth, beauty, or bodily strength, a 
 just cause for pride ? As to birth, is it 
 not more honourable to work out one's 
 own dignity, and derive his esteem in 
 the world from virtue and merits than to 
 
OF VICE. 167 
 
 be the degenerate offspring of an illus- 
 trious family ? The triumph of strength 
 or beauty is but of a short duration, and 
 gives no ground for pride. A sharp fit 
 of sickness will soon demolish both ; or, 
 should they escape such a stroke., the 
 course of a few years will be sure to 
 complete their ruin. Have we any 
 greater reason to be proud of our in- 
 tellectual faculties,, which are equally 
 liable with our bodies to decay, and 
 even to perish by a thousand accidents ? 
 If a man has good moral qualities,, these 
 surely ought not to swell his pride ; for 
 whoever seriously examines his own 
 heart, and the past actions of his life, 
 will, in the progress of that examina- 
 tion., find much greater cause for shame 
 and confusion of face., than for pride 
 and arrogance. 
 
 Lying is an infamous debasing sin, 
 that brings shame and reproach upon 
 
168 MEDITATION XIII. 
 
 the liar ; and acts in direct opposition 
 to the plain purpose of God,, in giving 
 the use of speech to man,, which was, 
 that thereby he might communicate his 
 real and genuine thoughts to his neigh- 
 bour. If a lie is told on purpose to de- 
 ceive, the guilt is doubled, by the con- 
 junction of fraud with falsehood. If 
 it proceeds from vanity, to magnify 
 one's self, it rarely answers the purpose 
 of the liar, because a custom of lying 
 sinks a man into a contemptible wretch, 
 and all that he affirms goes for nothing. 
 In short, it is a vile unmanly vice, in- 
 troducing confusion (as far as the in- 
 fluence of the liar reaches) into the 
 moral government of the world, odious 
 to God, and among men particularly 
 disgraceful. 
 
 Intemperance comprehends every ex- 
 cess in eating or drinking, and in in- 
 dulging our appetites or passions, which 
 
OF VICE. 169 
 
 in any measure disorders the mind or 
 body, or renders either of them unfit to 
 serve God., our neighbours, or ourselves. 
 The pleasure of eating or drinking lasts 
 no longer than until our natural appe- 
 tite for them is satisfied, which is always 
 within the bounds of moderation ; but 
 to eat or drink more than answers the 
 purpose of refreshment, is a brutal in- 
 dulgence that wastes the good creatures 
 of God, exposes us to distempers and 
 infamy, and plainly proves us unwor- 
 thy of that reason by which we are dis- 
 tinguished from the brute creation ; 
 and all excesses of different kinds are 
 equally pernicious. 
 
 Loss of time is a fatal error. This 
 world is our state of trial. If we em- 
 ploy our continuance here as we ought 
 to do, we shall meet with a gracious re- 
 ception hereafter ; but if we mis-spend 
 and trifle it away, there is no calling the 
 
170 MEDITATION XIII. 
 
 time back again ; we shall have cause 
 for ever to lament that we have not 
 made a better use of it. When a man 
 is near his end, and ready to appear be- 
 fore the tribunal of God, to give an ac- 
 count of his actions, what would he not 
 give for a reprieve of a few days of 
 health, to prepare himself, by serious re- 
 pentance and amendment, for such an 
 appearance ? Why will he therefore, un- 
 happily, lose his time, while yet he has 
 it in his power to work out his own sal- 
 vation with fear and trembling ? 
 
 To neglect our duty of praise and 
 adoration to God is an ungrateful and 
 foolish sin. Our whole dependence is 
 upon him, our whole subsistence is from 
 him, and if he should withdraw his pro- 
 tection but for a moment, we are un- 
 done. He requires not all our atten- 
 tion, or all our time, but only that our 
 hearts should be sincere and upright in 
 
OP VICE. 171 
 
 our attachment to him. And, if we 
 have any true sense of his goodness, 
 and of our own wants and weakness, 
 \ye ought to rejoice in the privilege of 
 being permitted to adore his perfec- 
 tions, and to implore his protection and 
 mercy. 
 
 To repine at the dispensations of 
 Providence is a complicated sin, more 
 enormous than is commonly imagined, 
 1 . It includes pride, and a high conceit 
 of our own merit, as if we thought our- 
 selves overlooked or neglected, while 
 those we fancy our inferiors are more 
 regarded. 2. It censures the wisdom 
 and justice of God in the government 
 of the worlds as if he was partial in his 
 distributions, and did not pay a suffi- 
 cient regard to persons of our import- 
 ance. Detestable vanity ! 3. It argues 
 a fretful, discontented, ungrateful spirit^ 
 a frame of mind which excludes peace 
 
Yi% MEDITATION XIII. 
 
 and contentment wherever it has taken 
 possession : So that this sin of repining 
 comprehends pride,, audaciousness, im- 
 piety, ingratitude, and a peevishness in- 
 consistent with any degree of felicity. 
 
 Fretfulness is also a heinous compli- 
 cated guilt. It is a mixture of pride 
 and impatience. We think ourselves 
 such curiosities, that every thing should 
 be subservient to our humours ; and 
 when any thing happens to obstruct our 
 profit or pleasure, our indignation is pre- 
 sently raised, be the obstruction ever so 
 harmless, and we treat it with scorn 
 and insolence. Did the great God, 
 who sees our folly and madness, treat 
 us, as we do our fellow creatures, with 
 contempt and disdain, what miserable 
 unhappy wretches must we be ? And 
 how dare we take the liberty to insult 
 or abuse persons much more valuable, 
 perhaps, in the sight of God than our- 
 selves ? 
 
OF VICE. 173 
 
 Ingratitude is reckoned such an odi- 
 ous vice, even among sinful creatures 
 like ourselves, that he who is guilty of 
 it is thought capable of any wickedness. 
 But what is our ingratitude to man, 
 compared with our ingratitude to the 
 Almighty? To desert from, or rebel 
 against him, from whom we have our 
 being, and every blessing we enjoy, is 
 a most deplorable infatuation. Ought 
 not a generous mind rather to suffer 
 any affliction, than run the risk of wil- 
 fully offending so much condescension 
 and goodness, which is still ready to re- 
 ceive men upon their repentance and 
 amendment, notwithstanding their for- 
 mer baseness and unthankfulness ? 
 
 To deceive in small things shews a 
 corrupt heart; and he who will give 
 himself the liberty to deceive in small 
 matters, would undoubtedly deceive in 
 the greatest,, because they bring more 
 
174 MEDITATION XIII, 
 
 gain, if he were not afraid that great 
 frauds would be more carefully enquired 
 into, and sooner discovered, to his con- 
 fusion and ruin. For, as he is not in- 
 fluenced by any principle of regard to 
 God, who sees all he does, but only by 
 the fear of shame and temporary pu- 
 nishment, he is full as guilty who cheats 
 in a trifle, as he who defrauds in a mat- 
 ter of great consequence. All the dif- 
 ference seems to be, that the loss is not 
 so great to the person injured, but still 
 the badness of heart in the deceiver is 
 equally unjustifiable. 
 
 A heart not upright with God, is a 
 heart divided between God and mam- 
 mon : A heart which, like the Roman 
 senate under Tiberius, would add Christ 
 to the number of their gods, but would 
 worship all their other false deities at 
 the same time. He is called a jealous 
 God, and requires the whole heart, 
 
OF TICE. , 175 
 
 and surely a heart fixed on any idol is 
 not worth his acceptance. 
 
 A thousand reasons, if* we were capa- 
 ble of reflecting wisely, would deter- 
 mine us to serve and worship him alone, 
 with sincerity and faithfulness ; and let 
 us not deceive ourselves, he will not be 
 mocked, and can never be pleased with 
 partial service. O my gracious God, 
 let me never hesitate between my duty 
 to thee and the delusion of my appe- 
 tites and passions ; let my heart be ho- 
 nest, pure, and constant, in an univer- 
 sal obedience and resignation to thy 
 holy will all the days of my life. 
 
176 
 
 MEDITATION XIV. 
 
 OF CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 FOR my part,, I see in the Christian 
 system such evident marks of truth, 
 probity, and goodness, and such proofs 
 of the approbation of the Deity, that I 
 must believe it came from heaven. 
 
 In the first place, the attributes of 
 the Almighty, as they are plainly set 
 forth in this system, and the sincerity 
 with which man is directed to worship 
 him in spirit and in truth, are worthy 
 of the Ruler of the universe ; which, so 
 far as I know, cannot be said of any 
 other religion. Besides, the precepts 
 given in the gospel for the conduct 
 of our lives, have all of them a natu- 
 ral tendency to secure our peace and 
 
OF CHRISTIANITY . 177 
 
 happiness throughout the whole dura- 
 tion of our existence. 
 
 In the next place, the many bene- 
 ficent miracles performed publicly by 
 Jesus Christ and his apostles, in con- 
 firmation of their mission, are, to my 
 apprehension, a sure testimony of the 
 approbation of God, without whose im- 
 mediate power they could not be per- 
 formed. But especially the resurrec- 
 tion of our Lord (which is proved by a 
 stronger and fuller evidence than per- 
 haps any matter of fact ever was) is 
 a demonstration that he was sent by God ; 
 for sure, no man will say, that the Al- 
 mighty would enter into a collusion with 
 an impostor, and exert his omnipotence 
 to give sanction to a lie. 
 
 Again, our Saviour's prediction of 
 his own death and resurrection ; of the 
 descent of the Holy Ghost ; of the con- 
 version of the Gentiles ; of the calami- 
 
 N 
 
178 MEDITATION XIV. 
 
 ties of the Jews,, the total destruction of 
 their city, temple, and government ; 
 which we know at this day to have been 
 all completely verified, were, at the time 
 they happened, an irresistible, and still 
 continue a permanent demonstration 
 of his divine mission. Lastly, I can see 
 no worldly interest, or selfish views of 
 riches, honour, pleasure, or power, pur- 
 sued by Jesus Christ, or his apostles, or 
 by the primitive Christians ; but, on the 
 contrary, I find them meekly and pati- 
 ently suffering' all manner of hardships 
 and cruelties for the sake of truth, and 
 for the benefit of mankind. 
 
 O most gracious God, as I am guilty 
 of many grievous sins, for which I have 
 no excuse to plead, and can make no 
 restitution, what hope of pardon can 
 I entertain but through the merits of 
 Christ, and upon the conditions of the 
 gospel ? I owed unsinning obedience to 
 
OF CHRISTIANITY. 179 
 
 my Maker,, but that law I have broken, 
 and thereby forfeited my claim to his 
 favour. Without mercy I must be for 
 ever miserable ; but where shall I find 
 that mercy ? I perceive, by the Christian 
 system, O my God, that thou hast sent 
 thy Son to the world, to offer his life 
 a sacrifice for sin, and to reconcile man 
 to thee : For this revelation of thy will, 
 and for the inestimable benefit thereby 
 accruing to mankind, I humbly desire 
 to magnify and adore thy name for 
 ever. I desire also to embrace the con- 
 ditions of the gospel, to live soberly, 
 righteously, and godly in this world, to 
 the utmost of my power, and to rely on 
 the satisfaction made by my Redeemer 
 for that mercy which I myself could 
 never merit. O let all my past sins, for 
 which I sincerely ask thy pardon, be 
 washed away by the blood of the Lamb 
 of God, and give me the aid of thy 
 
180 MEDITATION XIV. 
 
 blessed Spirit,, to root out of my heart 
 all sinful and corrupt affections., and to 
 implant, in their room, all those devout 
 and pious dispositions that become the 
 worshippers of the holy Jesus. Lord 
 Jesus, receive my spirit, and let me 
 meet with a gracious reception at thy 
 tribunal. 
 
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