NTKD B^■ 
 
THE 
 
 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 OF THE S*«rf^ 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED, 
 
 A DISCOURSE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 DUCATION OF CHILDREN AND YOUTH. 
 BF ISAAC WATTS, B. B. 
 
 FROM THE LAST LONDON EDITIQIf. 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 PUBLISHED BY EVERT DUYCKINCKj 
 
 NO. 68 WATER-STREET. 
 1819, 
 
 V 
 
ui- 
 
 "2.6 
 
 IM 
 \l\^ 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 <•' Few books have been perused by me with greater plea- 
 sure than his Improvement of the Miiid ; of which the radi- 
 cal principles may indeed be found in Locke's Conduct of 
 ihe Understanding; but they are so expanded and ramified 
 by Watts> as to confer on him the merit of a work in the 
 highest degree useful and pleasing. Whoever nas the care 
 of instructing others may be charged with deficiency in his 
 duty if this book is not recommended," 
 
 Dr. Johnson's Life of Dr. Wafts. 
 
 
 y. k, J. Harper, Printers, 
 138 Fulton-Street. 
 
THE 
 
 I.IFE OF THE 
 
 REV. BR. ISAAC WATTS. 
 
 DTI. Isaac Wafts was born at Southampton, July 17, 
 1674. His father was the master of a boarding school in 
 that town, of very considerable reputation. He was a suf- 
 ferer for non-conformity, in the time of Charles II. and 
 when at one time in prison, his' wife, it is said, was seen 
 sitting on a stone near the prison door, suckling her soa 
 Isaac. 
 
 This soo was a remarkable instance o( early attention to 
 books ; he began to learn Latin at the age of four, probably 
 at home, and was afterwards taught Latin, GreeK' and He- 
 brew, by the Rev. John Pinhorn, master of the free-school 
 at Southampton, rector of All Saints, in the same place, 
 prebendary of Leckford, and vicar of Eling in the New 
 Forest. Thejiroficiency he made at this school, induced 
 some persons of property to raise a sum snflBcientto main- 
 tain him at one of the universities ; but his determination 
 was soon fixed to remain among the dissenters, with whom 
 his ancestors had long been connected. In 1690, he went 
 to an academy superintended by the Rev. Thomas Rowe, 
 where he had for his companions, Hughes the poet, and 
 Horte, afterwards archbishop of Tuam ; Mr. Samuel Say, 
 afterwards an eminent preacher among the dissenters, and 
 other persons of literary eminence. It is well known that 
 Dr. Watts stroye to wean Hughes from his attachment to 
 the stage. In 1693, he joined the congregation which was 
 under the care of Mr. Rowe, as a communicant. 
 
 His application at this academy was very intense, and 
 perhaps few young men have laid in a larger stock of vari- 
 ous knowledge. The late Pr. Gibbons was in possession 
 -of a large volume in his hand- writing, containing twenty- 
 two Latin dissertations upon curious and important subjects, 
 which were evidently written when at this academy ; and, 
 says Dr. Johnson, " show a degree of knowledge, both 
 philosophical and theological, such as very few attain by a 
 inuch longer course of study." His leisure hours seem to 
 
4 THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 have been very early occupied in poetical efforts, and par- 
 ticularly when, after leaving the academy in his twentieth 
 year, he went to reside with his father at Southampton, and 
 spent two years in reading, meditation and prayer, to fit 
 himself for the work of the ministry. 
 
 At the end of this time, he was invited By Sir John Har- 
 topp, to reside in his family at Stoke Newington, near Lon- 
 don, as tutor to his son. Here he remained about four or 
 five years, and on his birth day, 1698, preached his first ser- 
 mon, and was chosen assistant to Dr. Chauncy, minister of 
 the congregation at Marklane. About three years after, he 
 was appointed to succeed Dr. Chauncy, but had scarce en- 
 tered on this charge, when he was so interrupted by illness, 
 as to render an assistant necessary ; and, after an interval of 
 health, he was again seized by a fever, which left a weakness 
 that never wholly abated, and in a great measure checked 
 the usefulness of his public labours. 
 
 While in this afflicting situation, he was received into the 
 house of Sir Thomas Abuey, of Newington, Knight and Al- 
 derman of London, where he was entertained with the ut- 
 most tenderness, friendship, and liberality, for the space of 
 thirty-six years. Sir Thomas died about eight years after 
 Dr Watts became an inmate in his family, but he continued 
 with Lady Abney and her daughters to the end of his life. 
 Lady Abney died about a year after him, and the last of the 
 family, Mrs. Elizabeth Abney, in 1782. 
 
 " A coalition like this," says Dr. Johnson, "a state in 
 ■which the notions of patronage and dependence were over- 
 powered by the perception of reciprocal benefits, deserves a 
 particular memorial ; and I will not withhold from the read- 
 er Dr. Gibbon's representation, to which regard is to be paid 
 as to the narrative of one who writes what he knows, and 
 what is known likewise to multitudes besides." 
 
 The passage thus elegantly alluded to is as follows : " Our 
 next observations shall be made upon that remarkably kind 
 providence which brought the Doctor into Sir Thomas Ab- 
 iiey's family, and continued him there till his death, a period 
 of no less than thirty -six years. In the midst of his several 
 labours for the glory of God, and good of his generation, he 
 is seized with a most violent and threatening fever, which 
 leaves him oppressed with great weakness, and puts a stop, 
 at least to bis public services, for some years. In this dis- 
 tressing season, doubly so to his active and pious spirit, be is 
 invited to Sir Thomas Abney's family, nor ever removes 
 from it till he had finished his days. Here he enjoyed the 
 
REV. DR. ISAAC WATTS. 
 
 uninterrupted demonstrations of truest friendship. Here? 
 without any care of his own, he had every thing which could 
 contribute to the enjoyment of life, and favour the unwea- 
 ried pursuits of his studies. Here he dwelt in a family, 
 which, for piety, order, harmony, and every virtue, was a 
 house of God. Here he had the privilege of a country re- 
 cess, the fragrant bower, the spreading lawn, the flowery 
 garden, and other advantages, to sootli his mind, and aid his 
 restoration to health ; to yield him, whenever he chose them, 
 more grateful intervals for his laborious studies, and enable 
 him to return to them with redoubled vigour and delight. 
 Had it not been for this most happy event, he might, as to 
 outward view have feebly, it may be, painfully, dragged on 
 through many more years of languor and inability for public 
 service, and even for profitable study, or perhaps might have 
 sunk into his grave under the overwhelming load of infir- 
 mities in the midst of his days ; and thus the church and 
 world have been deprived of those many excellent sermons 
 and works which he drew up and published during his long 
 residence in this family. In a few years after his removing 
 thither. Sir Thomas Abneydies: but his amiable consort 
 survives, who shows the doctorthe same respect and friend- 
 ship as before, and most happily for him, and great numbers 
 besides ; for, as her riches were great, her generosity and 
 munificence were in full proportion : her thread of life wa,? 
 drawn out to a great age, even beyond that of the doctor's ; » 
 and thus this excellent man, through her kindness, and that 
 of her daughter, the present, (1780) Mrs. Elizabeth Abney, 
 who in a like degree esteemed and honoured him, enjoyed 
 all the benefits and felicities he experienced at his first en- 
 Irancft into this family, till his days were numbered and 
 linished, and, like a shock of corn in its season, he ascen- 
 ded into the regions of perfect and immortal life and joy." 
 In this retreat he wrote the whole, or nearly the whole, of 
 those works which have immortalized his name as a chris- 
 tian poet and philosopher. He occasioaally preached, and 
 in the pulpit, says Dr. .Johnson, though his low stature, 
 which very liUle exceeded five feet, graced him witU no 
 advantages of appearance, yet the gravity and propriety of 
 his utterance made his discourses very efficacious. Such 
 was his flow of thoughts, and such his promt umde of lan- 
 guage, that in the latter part of his life he did not precom- 
 pose his cursory sermons ; but having adjusted the heads, 
 and sketched out some particulars^ trusted for success to his 
 exttmporary powers. 
 
 A 3 
 
6 THE LIFE OF DR. WATTS, 
 
 He continued many years to study, and to preach, and to 
 do good by his instruction and example, fill atlast the iniirm- 
 ities oS age disabled hiai from the more laborious part of his 
 ministerial functions, aad being no longer capable of public 
 duty, he offered to remit the salary appendant to it, but his 
 congregation would not accept the resignation. His annua* 
 income did not exceed one hundred pounds, of which he al- 
 lowed one third to the poor. 
 
 His death was distinguished by steady faith, and compo- 
 sure, and deprived the world of his useful labours and exam- 
 ple, JNov. 25, 1748,in the seventy-fifth year of his age. He 
 expired in that house where his life had been prolonged and 
 made comfortable, by a long coii'inuaiice of kind and ten- 
 der attentions of which there are few examples. 
 
 Dr. Johnson's character of him, in that admirable life he 
 wrote for the English poets, may be received with confi- 
 dence. ''Few men have left such purity of character, or 
 such monuments of laborious piely. He has provided in- 
 struction for all ages, from those who are lisping their first 
 lessons, to the enlightened readers of Malbranche and Locke : 
 he has left neither corporeal nor spiritual nature unexamin- 
 ed : he has taught the art of reasoning, and the science 
 of the stars. His character, therefore, must be formed from 
 the multiplicity and diversity of his attainsnents. rather than 
 from any single performance ; for it would not be safe to 
 claim for him the highest rank in any single denomination 
 of literary dignity : yet perhaps there was nothing in which 
 he would not have excelled, if he had not divided his pow 
 ers to dilFcrent pursuits." 
 
 His entire works have been published in six volumes, 
 quarto, and more recently in octavo. With respect to (he 
 work now before the reader, its continued popularity would 
 be a sufficient test of i(s merit, were we not enabled to add 
 the opinion of the eminent critic already so frequently 
 quoted. "Few books," says Dr. Johnson, '-have been 
 perused by me with greater pleasure than his IMPROVE- 
 MENT OF THE MIND, of which the rational principles 
 may indeed be found in Locke's Conduct of the Understand- 
 ing ; but they are so expanded and ramified by Watts, as to 
 confer on him the merit of a work in the highest degree 
 useful and pleasing. WHOEVER HAS THE CARE OF 
 INSTRUCTING OTHERS, MAY BE CHARGED WITH 
 DEFICIENCY IN HIS DUTY, IF THIS BOOK IS NOT 
 RECOMMEND£p." 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 X HE present Treatise, if it may assume the honour of 
 that name, is made up of a variety of remarks and directions 
 for the improvement of the mind in useful knowledge. It 
 was collected from the observations v^'hich I had made on 
 my own studies, and on the temper and sentiments, the hu- 
 mour and conduct of other men in their pursuit of learning, 
 or in the affairs of life; and it has been considerably assist- 
 ed by occasional collections, in the course of my reading, 
 from many authors on different subjects. I confess, in far 
 the greatest part,] stand bound to answerfor the weaknesses 
 or defects that will be found in these papers, not being able 
 to point to other writers whence the twentieth part of them 
 are derived. 
 
 The work was composed at different times, and by slow 
 degrees. Now and then, indeed, it spread itself into 
 branches and leaves, like a plant in April, and advanced 
 seven or eight pages in a week : and sometimes it lay by 
 without growth, like a vegetable in the winter, and did not 
 increase half so much in the revolution of a year. 
 
 As these thoughts occurred to me iijreading or meditation, 
 or in my notices of the various appearances of things among 
 mankind, they were thrown under those heads which make 
 the present titles of the chapters, and were by degrees re- 
 duced to something like a method, such as the subject would 
 admit. 
 
 On these accounts, it is not to be expected that the same 
 accurate order should be observed, eitlier in the whoSe book, 
 or in the particular chapters thereof, which is necessary in 
 the system of any science whose scheme is projected at once. 
 A book which has been twenty years a writing may be in- 
 dulged in some variety of style and manner, though I hope 
 there will not be found any great difference of sentiment ; 
 
, 8 PREFACE. 
 
 for wherein I had improved in latter years, beyond wliat f 
 had first written , a few dashes and alterations have correct- 
 ed the mistakes : and if the candour of the reader will but 
 allow what is defective in one place to be supplied by addi- 
 tions froDi another, I hope there will be found a sufficient 
 reconciliation of what might seem, at first, to be scarce 
 consistent. 
 
 The language and dress of these sentiments is such as the 
 present temper of mind dictated, whether it were grave or 
 pleasant, severe or smiling. If there has been any thing ex- 
 pressed with too much severity, I suspect it will be found to 
 fall upon those sneering or daring writers of the age against 
 religion, and against the Christian scheme, who seem to 
 have left reason, or decency, or both, behind them, in some 
 of their writings. 
 
 The same apology of the length of years in composing 
 this book, may serve also to excuse a repetition of the same 
 sentiments which may happen to be found in different places 
 without the author's design ; but in other pages it was in- 
 tended, so that those rules, for the conduct of the under- 
 standing, which are most necessary, should he set in several 
 lights, that they might, with more frequency, and more 
 iorce, impress the soul. 1 shall be sufficiently satisfied with 
 the good humour and lenity of my readers, if they will 
 please to regard these papers as parcels of imperfect sketcl*- 
 es, which were designed by a sudden pencil, and in a thou- 
 sand leisure moments, to be, one day, collected into land- 
 scapes of some little prospects in the regions of learning, 
 and in the woild of common life, pointing out the fairest 
 and most fruitful spots, as well as the rocks, and wilderness- 
 es, and faithless morasses of the country. But I feel age ad- 
 vancing upon me ; and my health is insufficient to perfect 
 •what 1 had designed, to increase and amplify these remarks, 
 to confirm and improve these rules, and to illuminate the 
 several pages with a richer and more beautiful variety of 
 examples. The subject is almost endless ; and oew writers 
 in the present, and in the following ages, may still find suf- 
 ficient follies, weaknesses, and dangers, among mankind, 
 ,^ to be represented in such a manner as to guard youth against 
 ^*i^em. 
 
 These hints, such as they are, I hope, may be rendered 
 some way useful to persons in younger years, who will fa- 
 vour them with a perusal, and who would seek the cultiva- 
 tion of their own understandings in the early days of life, 
 k, Perhaps they may find gomethijig here which may wake a 
 
PREFACE. 9 
 
 latent genius and direct the studies of a willing 'mind. Per- 
 haps it may point out to a student, now and then, what may 
 employ the most useful labours of his thoughts, and accele- 
 rate his diligence in the most momentous inquiries. 
 Perhaps a sprightly youth might here meet with something 
 to guard or warn him against mistakes, and withhold him, at 
 other times, from those pursuits which are like to be fruitless 
 and disappointing. 
 
 Let it be observed also, that, in our age, sereral of the 
 ladies pursue science with success ; and others of them are 
 desirous of improving their reason, even in the common 
 affairs of life, as well as the men : yet the characters which 
 are here drawn occasionally are almost universally applied 
 to one sex ; but if any of the other shall find a character 
 which suits them, they may, by a small change of the ter- 
 mination, apply and assume it to themselves, and accept 
 the instruction, the admonition, or the applause which is de- 
 signed in it. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 PART ir. 
 
 JL HE author's name, which is prefixed to this book, ren- 
 ders it altogether needless for us to say any thing in order 
 to recommend it ; and we need not assure any judicious 
 reader, who has been conversant with Dr. Watt's writings, 
 that this is the genuine work of that excellent author ; for 
 he cannot fail of discerning the doctor's easy style and 
 beautiful manner of expression in every page. We esteem 
 it an honour done us by that truly great man, that he was 
 pleased, by his last will, to entrust us with his manuscripts 
 which he designed for the press : however he lived to pub- 
 lish several of those himself, after his will was made ; so 
 that not many remain to be published by us. Some indeejl 
 there are remaining which he did originally intend for the 
 press ; but his broken state of health did not permit him to 
 finish them, and they are left too imperfect to be ever pub- 
 lished. Of this sort, among others, is Tht larger Disco%irse 
 on Psalmody, which he gave notice of his intention to pub- 
 lish, in the preface tothe second edition of his Hymns, when 
 he withdrew the shorter essay on that subject, which was 
 annexed to the first edition. There are also among his 
 manuscripts, some tracts relating to a doctrinal controversy 
 which the doctor had been engaged in, but which the world 
 seems to be tired of: so that, most probably, this Second 
 part of the Improvement of the Mind, with the Discourse on 
 Education, and some Mdiiions to the Reliqua Juveniles, are 
 all the posthumous works of Dr. Watts that will ever be 
 printed. 
 
 As to this work in particular, a considerable part of it was 
 corrected for the press by the Doctor's own hand : and as 
 to the rest of it, he did not leave it so far unfinished as should, 
 in his own judgment, discourage the publishing it ; for he 
 has left this note in a paper along with it; "Though this 
 
m PREFACE. 
 
 book, or the second volume of the Improvement of the 
 Mind, is not so far finished as I could widi, yet I leave it 
 among the number of books , corrected for the press, for it is 
 very easy for any person of genius and science to finish it, 
 and publish it in a form sufficiently useful to the world." 
 The con-ections we have presumed to make are compara- 
 tively but few and trivial : and when now and then it was 
 thought necessary to add a line or two for the illustrdtion 
 of any passage, it is generally put in the form of a note at 
 the foot of the page. 
 
 It may perhaps be expected we should make some apolo- 
 gy for delaying the publishing of this book so long after the 
 author's death ; a book that has been so much expected and 
 so earnestly desired, as appears by several letters found in 
 the Doctor's study, from eminent persons and from learned 
 societies. There are various causes that have contributed 
 to the delay, which the world need not be informed of ; 
 but the remote distance of our habitations, and the multi- 
 plicity of business in which each of us is statedly engaged, 
 are circumstances pretty generally known, and which we 
 hope will be admitted in excuse for some part of the delay, 
 and some part the booksellers must answer for. However, 
 we are the less solicitous to apologise for not publishing 
 this book sooner, as we are satisfied it will be welcome now 
 it comes; and that those who, upon reading the first volume, 
 have so earnestly desired the second, \Vill not be disappoint- 
 ed when they read it. 
 
 We have only to add our most sincere wishes and pray- 
 ers, that a book so admirably suited to improve the minds of 
 men, especially of the rising generation, and to promote uni- 
 versal goodness, as this appears to be, maybe attended with 
 a blessing from on high. 
 
 D. JENNINGS. 
 P. DODDRIDGE. 
 
 .7u«e26, 1751. 
 
THE 
 
 IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Directions for the Attainment of useful Knowledge. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 No man is obliged to learn and know every thing ; this 
 can neither be sought nor required, for it is utterly 
 impossible ; yet all persons are under some obligation 
 to nnprove their own understanding, otherwise it will 
 be a barren desert, or a forest overgrown with weeds 
 and brambles. Universal ignorance or infinite errors 
 will overspread the mind which is utterly neglected and 
 lies without any cultivation. 
 
 Skill in the sciences is indeed the business and 
 profession but of a small part of mankind ; but there 
 are many others placed in such an exalted rank in the 
 world, as allows them much leisure and large oppor- 
 tunities to cultivate their reason and to beautify and 
 enrich their minds with various knowledge. Even the 
 lower orders of men have particular callings in life, 
 wherein they ought to acquire a just decree of skill, and 
 this is not to be done well without thinking and reason- 
 ing about them. 
 
 The common duties and benefits of society, which 
 belong to every man living, as we are social creatures, 
 and even our native and necessary relations to a family, 
 a neighbourhood, or a government, obhge all persons 
 whatsoever to use their reasoning powers upon a thou- 
 sand occasions ; every houi- of life calls for some regular 
 B 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 exerciso. of our judgment as to times and tiling, persons 
 and actions ; witliouta })rudent and discreet determina- 
 tion in matters before us, we sliall be plunged into per- 
 petual errors in our conduct. No\s^ that which should 
 always be practised, must at some time be learnt. 
 
 Besides every son and daughter of Adam has a most 
 important concern in the affairs of a life to come, and 
 therefore it is a matter of the highest moment for every 
 one to understand, to judge, and to reason right about 
 the things of religion. It is in vain for any to say, we 
 have no leisure or time for it. The daily intervals of 
 time, and vacancies from necessary labour, together 
 with the one day in seven in the Christian world, allow 
 sufficient time for this, if men v.ould but apply them- 
 selves to it with half so much zeal and diligence as they 
 do to the trifles and amusements of this life; and it 
 would turn to infinitely better account. 
 
 Thus it appears to be the ncccssai'v duty, and the in- 
 terest of every person living, to improve his under- 
 standing, to inform his judgment, to treasure u|) useful 
 knowledge, and to acquire the skill of good reasoning, 
 as far as his station, capacity, and circumstances furnish 
 him Avith proper means for it. Our mistakes in judg- 
 ment may plunge us into much folly and guilt in prac- 
 tipe. By acting without thought or reason, v/e dishon- 
 our the God that made us reasonable creatures, we of- 
 ten become injurious to our neighbours, kindred, or 
 friends, and we bring sin and misery upon ourselves : 
 For we are accountable to God our judge for every 
 part of our irregular and mistaken conduct, where he 
 hath given us sufficient advantages to guard against 
 those mistakes- 
 It is the design of Logic to give this improvement 
 to the mind, and to teach us the right use of reason in 
 the acquirement and communication of all useful know- 
 ledge; though the greatest part of writers on that 
 sub]ect have turned it into a composition of hard words, 
 trifles, and subtilities, for the mere use of the schools, 
 and that only to amuse the minds and the ears of men 
 with empty sounds, which flatter their vanity, and pufF 
 up their pride with a pompous and glittering show of 
 false learning ; and thus they have perverted the great 
 and valuable design of that science. 
 A few modern writers have endeavoured to recover 
 
IMPROVEMENT, fee. 15 
 
 the honour of Logic, since that excellent author of the 
 Art of Thir>king led the way. Among the rest, I have 
 presumed to make an attempt of the same kind, in a 
 treatise published several years ago, wherein it was my 
 constant aim to assist the reasoning powers of every 
 rank and order of men, as well as to keep an eye to 
 the best interest of the schools and the candidates of 
 true learning. There I have endeavoured to show the 
 mistakes we are exposed to in our conception, judg- 
 ment, and reasoning; and pointed to the various 
 springs of them. I have also laid down many general 
 and particular rules how to escape error, and attain 
 truth in matters of the civil and religious life, as well 
 as in the sciences. 
 
 But there are several other observations very perti- 
 nent to this purpose, which have not fallen so flirectly 
 under any of those heads of discourse, or at least they 
 would have swelled that treatise to an improper size ; 
 and therefore I have made a distinct collection of thenr 
 here out of various authors, as well as from my own ob- 
 servation, and set them down under the following heads. 
 
 The learned world, who have done so much unmer- 
 ited honour to that logical treatise, as to receive it into 
 our two flourishing IJniversities, may possibly admit 
 this as a second part or supplement to that treatise. 
 And I may venture to persuade myself, that if the com- 
 mon and the busy ranks^of mankind,as well as the scholar 
 and the gentleman, would but transcribe such rules in- 
 to their understanding, and practise them upon all oc- 
 casions, there would be much more truth and know- 
 ledge found among men ; and it is reasonable to hope 
 that justice, virtue, and goodness would attend as the 
 happy consequents. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 General Rules for the Improvement of Knowledge.'^ 
 
 I. Rule. 
 
 UeEPLY possess your mind with the vast import- 
 ance of a good judgment, and the rich and inestimable 
 
 * Though the most of these following rules, are chiefly addressed to those 
 whom their fortune or their BtatioB requires to addict themselves to th*- 
 
16 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 advantage of right reasoning. Review the instances 
 of your own misconduct in life ; think seriously with 
 yourselves how many follies and sorrows you had es- 
 caped, and how much guilt and misery you had pre- 
 vented, if from your early years you had but taken due 
 pains to judge aright concerning persons, times, and 
 things. This will awaken you with lively vigour to 
 address yourselves to the work of improving your rea- 
 soning powers, and seizing every opportunity and ad- 
 vantage for that end. 
 
 II. Rule. Consider the weakness, frailties, and mis- 
 takes of human nature in general, which arise from the 
 very constitution of a soul united to an animal body, and 
 subjected to many inconveniences thereby. Consider the 
 many additional vveaknesses,mistakes,anafrailties which 
 are derived from our apostacy and fall from a state of in- 
 nocence ; how much our powers of understanding are 
 yet more darkened, enfeebled, and imposed upon by 
 our senses, our fancies, and our unruly passions, £ic. 
 Consider the depth and difficulty of many truths, and 
 the flattering appearances of falsehood, whence arises 
 an infinite variety of dangers to which we are expo- 
 sed in our judgment of things. Read with greediness 
 those authors that treat of the doctrine of prejudi- 
 ces, prepossessions, and springs of error, on pur- 
 pose to make jour soul watchful on all sides, that it 
 suffer not itself as far as possible, to be imposed upon 
 by any of them. See more on this subject, Logic, 
 Part II. Chap. 3, and Part III. Chap. 3. 
 
 III. Rule. A slight view of things so momentous is 
 not sufficient. You should therefore contrive and prac- 
 tise some proper methods to acquaint yourself with 
 your own ignorance, and to impress your mind with a 
 deep and painful sense of the low and imperfect de- 
 grees of your present knowledge, that you may be in- 
 cited with labour and activity to pursue after greater 
 measures. Among others, you may find some such 
 methods as these successful. 
 
 1. Take a wide survey now and then, of the vast 
 and unlimited regions of learning. Let your meditations 
 
 particular improvement of their minds in g^reater degrees of Itnowledge; 
 yet every one who has leisure and opportunity to be acquainted with 
 such writings as these, may find something among them for their own 
 use. 
 
OF THE MIND. 17 
 
 run over the names of all the sciences, with their nu- 
 merous branches, and innumerable particular themes 
 of knowledge ; and then reflect how few of them you 
 are acquainted with in any tolerable degree. The most 
 learned of mortals will never have occasion to act over 
 agaiw, what is fabled of ALlexander the Great, that when 
 he had conquered what was called the Eastern World, 
 he wept for want of more worlds to conquer. The 
 worlds of science are immense and endless. 
 
 2. Think what a numberless variety of questions 
 and difficulties there are belonging even to that partic- 
 ular science in which you have made the greatest pro- 
 gress, and how few of them there are in which you 
 have arrived at a final and undoubted certainty ; ex- 
 cepting only those questions in the pure and simple 
 mathematics, whose theorems are demonstrable and 
 leave scarcely any doubt ; and yet even in the pursuit 
 of some few of these, mankind have been strangely 
 bewildered. 
 
 3. Spend a few thoughts sometimes on the puzzling 
 inquiries concerning vacuums and atoms, the doctrine of 
 infinities, indivisibles, and incommensurables in geom- 
 etry, wherein there appear some insolvable difficulties. 
 Do this on purpose to give you a more sensible impres- 
 sion of the poverty of your understanditi^, and the 
 imperfection of your knowledge. This will teach you 
 what a vain thing it is to fancy that you know all things ; 
 and Avill instruct you to think modestly of your present 
 attainments, when every dust of the earth and every 
 inch of empty space surmounts your understanding 
 and triumphs over your presumption. Arithmo had 
 been bred up to accounts all his life, and thought him- 
 self a complete master of numbers. But when he was 
 pushed hard to give the square root of the number, 
 2, he tried at it, and laboured long in millesimal fracW 
 tions, until he confessed there was no end of the in- ' 
 quiry ; and yet he learnt so much modesty by this 
 perplexing question, that he, was afraid to say it v^'as 
 an impossible thing. It is some good degree of im- 
 provement Avheu we are afraid to be positive. 
 
 4. Read the accounts ofthose vast treasures of know- 
 ledge which some of the dead have possessed, and soirK^, 
 of the living do possess. Read and be astonished at 
 the almost incredible advances which have been made 
 
 B 2 
 
18 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 in science. Acquaint yourselves with some persons 
 of learning, that by converse among them, and com- 
 paring yourselves with them, you may acquire a mean 
 opinion of your own attainments, and may be thereby 
 animated with new zeal, to equal them as far as possi- 
 ble, or to exceed ; thus'let your diligence be quickened 
 by a generous and laudable emulation. If Vanillus had 
 never met with Scitorio and Palydcs, he had never 
 imagined himself a mere novice in Philosophy, nor ever 
 set himself to study in good earnest. 
 
 Remember this, that if upon a few superficial ac- 
 quirements, you value, exalt, and swell yourself, as 
 though you were a man of learning already, you arc 
 thereby building a most unpassable barrier against all 
 improvement ; you will lie down and indulge idleness, 
 and rest yourself contented in the midst of deep and 
 sh-^mefid ignorance. Midti ad scientiam pervenisseiit 
 si se illuc pervenisse non putassent. 
 
 IV. Rule. Presume not too much upon a bright 
 genius, a ready wit, and good parts, for these without 
 labour and study will never make a man of knowledge 
 and wisdom. This has been an unhappy temptation 
 to persons of a vigorous and gay fancy to despise 
 learning and study. They have been acknowledged 
 to shine in an assembly, and sparkle in discourse upon 
 common topics, and thence they took it into their 
 heads to abandon reading and labour, and grow old in 
 ignorance ; but when they had lost the vivacities of 
 animal nature and yo'.ith, they becnne stupid and sot- 
 tish even to contempt and ridicule. Lucidas and 
 Scintillo are young men of this stamp ; they shine in 
 conversation, they spread their native riches before the 
 ignorant; they pride tliemselves in their own lively 
 images of fancj-^, and imagine themselves wise antl 
 'learned ; but they had best avoid the presence of the 
 skilful, and the test of reasoning ; and i would advise 
 tiiera once a day to think forward a little, what a 
 contemptible figure they will make in age. 
 
 The witty men sometimes have sense enough to 
 know the!'- own foible, and therefore they craftily shun 
 the attacks of argument, or bold!}'' pretend to despise 
 and renounce them ; because they are conscious of 
 their own ignorance, and inwardly confess their want 
 of acqiiaiiitance with the skill of reasoning. 
 
OF THE MIND. 19 
 
 V. Rule. As you are not to fancy yourself a learned 
 man, because you are blessed with a ready wit, so nei- 
 ther must you imagine that large and laborious read- 
 ing, and a strong memory, caa denominate you truly 
 wise. 
 
 What that excellent critic has determined when 
 he decided the question, whether wit or study makes 
 the best poet, may well be ajDplied to every sort of 
 learning : 
 
 Ego nee studium sine divite vena, 
 
 : Jfec rude quid prosit, vidto, ingenium: alteriussic 
 
 JlUeraposcit opemres, et conjurat amice. Hor. de Art. Poet. 
 
 THUS MADE ENGLISH : 
 
 Concerning poets, there has been contest, 
 
 Whether they're made by art or nature best! 
 
 But if I may presume in this affair, 
 
 Among the rest my judgment to declare, 
 
 No art without a genius will avail, 
 
 And parts without the help of art will fail : 
 
 But both ingredients jointly must unite, 
 
 Or verse willnevershine with a transcendent light. Oldham. 
 
 It is meditation and studious thought, it is the exercise 
 of your own reason and judgment upon all you read, 
 that gives good sense even to the best genius, and 
 affords your understanding the truest improvement. 
 ' A boy of strong memory may repeat a whole book of 
 Euclid, yet be no Geometrician ; for he may not be 
 able perhaps to demonstrate one single theorem. — 
 Memorino has learnt half the Bible by heart., and is 
 becoming a living concordance and a speaking index to 
 theological folios, and yet he understands little of di- 
 vinity. 
 
 A well furnished library and a capacious memory 
 are indeed of singular use towards the improvement 
 of the mind ; but if all your learning be nothing else 
 but a mere amassment of what others have written, 
 without a due penetration into their meanings, and 
 without a judicious choice and determination of your 
 own sentiments, I do not see what title your head has 
 to true learning above your shelves. Though you 
 have read Philosophy and Theology, Morals and 
 Metaphysics in abundance, and every other art and 
 science, yet if your memory is the only faculty em- 
 
£0 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 ployed, with the neglect of your reasoning powers^, 
 yon crfn justly claim no higher character than that of 
 a good historian of the sciences. 
 
 Here note. Many of the foregoing advices are more 
 peculiarly proper for thor^e whoarc conceited of their 
 abilities, and are ready to entertain a high opinion of 
 themselves. But a modest, humble youth, of a good 
 genius, should not suffer himself to be discouraged by 
 anj"^ of these considerations. They are designed only 
 as a spur to diligence, and a guard against vanity and 
 pride. 
 
 YI. Rule. Be not so weak as to imagine that a 
 life of learning is a life of htziness and ease. Dare not 
 give up yourself to any of the learned professions 
 unless you are resolved to labour hard at study, and 
 can make it your delight and the joy of your life, ac- 
 cording to tlie motto of our late Lord Chancellor 
 King, Labor ipse vohiptas. 
 
 It is no idle thing to be a scholar indeed. A man 
 much addicted to luxury and pleasure, recreation and 
 past time, should never pretend to devote himself en- 
 tirely to the sciences, unless his soul be so reformed and 
 refined that he can taste all these entertainments em- 
 inently i.i his closet, among his books and papers. So- 
 brino is a temperate man and a philosopher, and he 
 feedsupon partridge and pheasant, venison and ragouts, 
 and every delicacy,in a growing understanding, and a se- 
 rene and healthy soul, though he dines on a dish of sprouts 
 or turni»)s. Languinos loved his ease, and therefore chose 
 to be brought up a scholar; he had much indolence 
 in his temper, and as he never cared for study, befalls 
 under universal contempt in his profession, because he 
 had nothing but the gown and the name. 
 
 Vir. Rule. Let the hope of new discoveries, as well 
 as the satisfaction and pleasure of known truths, animate 
 your daily industry. Do not think learning in general 
 is arrived at its perfection, or that the knowledge of 
 any particular subject in any science cannot be im- 
 proved, merely because it has lain five hundred or a 
 thousand years without improvement. The present 
 age, by the blessing of God on the ingenuity and dili- 
 gence of men, has brought to hght such truths in natu- 
 ral philosophy, and such discoveries in the heavens and 
 the earth, as seemed to he beyond the reach of man. 
 
OF THE MIND. 21 
 
 But may there not be Sir Isaac Newtonsia every sci- 
 ence ? You should never despair therefore of finding 
 out that which has never yet been found, unless you 
 see something in the nature of it Avhich nmders it un- 
 searchable, and above the reach of our faculties. 
 
 Nor should a student in divinity imagine that our age 
 is arrived at a full understanding of every thin^^ which 
 can be known by the Scriptures. Ev;ery age since the 
 Reformation hath thrown some furthei- light on difficult 
 texts and paragraphs of the Bible, ijvhich have been 
 long obscured by the early rise of antichrist ; and since 
 there are at present many difficulties and darknesses 
 hanging about certain truths of the christian religion, 
 and since several of these relate to important doctnnes , 
 such as the Origin of Sin, the Fall of A.dam, the Person 
 of Christ, the Blessed Trinity, the Decrees of God, kc, 
 which do still embarrass the minds of honest and mqui- 
 ring readers, and which make work for noisy controver- 
 sy ; it is certain there are several things in the Bible 
 yet unknown and not sufficiently explained, and it is cer- 
 tain there is some way to solve these difficulties, and to 
 reconcile these seeming contradictions. And why may 
 not a sincere searcher of truth in the present age, by 
 labour, diligence, study and prayer, with the best use of 
 his reasoning powers, find out the proper solution of 
 those knots and perplexities which have hitherto been 
 unsolved, and which have afforded matter for angry 
 quarrelling ? Happy is every man who shall be favour- 
 ed of Heaven to give a helping hand towards the intro- 
 duction of the blessed age of light and love. 
 
 VIII. Rule. Do not hover always on the surface 
 of things, nor take up suddenly, with mere appearances ; 
 but penetrate into the depth of mitters, as far as your 
 time and circumstances allow, especially in those tilings 
 which relate to your own profession. Do not indulge 
 yourselves to judge of things by the first glimpse, or a 
 short and superficial view of them ; for this will fill the 
 mind with errors and prejudices, give it a wrong turn 
 and ill habit of thinking, and make much work for retrac- 
 tion. Subito is carried away with title pages, so that 
 he ventures to pronounce upon a large octavo at once, 
 and to recommend it wonderfully, when he has read 
 half the preface. Another volume of controversies of 
 equal size was discarded by him at once, because it 
 
23 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 pretended to treat of tiie Trinity, and yet he could 
 neither find the Avord essence nor subsistencies in the 
 twelve first pages ; but Subito changes his opinions of 
 men, and books, and thinks so often, that liobody re- 
 gards him. 
 
 As for those sciences or those parts of knowledge, 
 which either your profession, your leisure, your incli- 
 nation, or your incapacity, forbids you to pursue mth 
 much application, or to search far mto them, you must 
 be contented with an historical and superficial know- 
 ledge of them, and not pretend to form any judgments 
 of your own, on those subjects which you understand 
 Tery imperfectly. 
 
 IX. Rule. Once a day, especially in the early years 
 of life and study, call yourselves to an account what new 
 ideas, what new proposition or truth you have gained, 
 what further confirmation of known truths, and what 
 advances you have made in any part of knowledge ; 
 and let no day, if possible, pass away without some 
 intellectual gain ; such a course well pursued, must 
 certainly advance us in useful knowledge. It is a wise 
 proverb among the learned, borrowed from the lips 
 and practice of a celebrated painter, nulla dies sine linea; 
 let no day pass without one line at least ; and it was a 
 sacred rule amon^ the Pythagoreans, that they should 
 every evening thrice run over the actions and affairs of 
 the (lay, and examine what their conduct had been, what 
 they had done, or what they had neglected ; and they 
 assured their pupils that by this method they would 
 make a noble progress in the path of virtue. 
 
 Nor Jet soft slumber close your eyes, 
 
 Bofoi-e you've recollected thrice 
 
 The train of actions through the day : 
 
 Wliere have my feet chose out the way ? 
 What have I learnt, where'er I've been, 
 From all I've heard, from all I've seen f 
 What know I more that's worth the knowing ? 
 What have I done that's worth the doing ? 
 What have I sought that 1 should shun ? i 
 What duty have I left undone ; ^ 
 
 Or into what new follies run ? S 
 
 These sel f inquires are the road 
 That leads to virtue, and to God. 
 
OF THE MIISD. 23 
 
 I would be glad among a nation of Christians, to find 
 young men heartily engaged in the practice of what 
 this Heathen writer teaches. 
 
 X. Rule. Maintain a constant watch at all times 
 against a dogmatical spirit ; fix not your assent to anj^ 
 proposition m a 'firm and unalterable manner, till you 
 have some firm and unalterable ground for it, and till you 
 have arrived at some clear and sure evidence ; till you 
 have turned the proposition on all sides, and searched 
 the matter through and through, so that you cannot be 
 mistaken. And even where you may think j'ou have 
 full grounds of assurance, be not too early, nor too 
 frequent, in expressing this assurance in too peremptory 
 and positive a manner, remembering that human 
 nature is always liable to mistake in this corrupt and 
 feeble state. "A dogmatical spirit has manyinconve- 
 tiiences attending it : As 
 
 1. It stops the ear against all further reasoning upon 
 that subject, and shuts up the mind from all further 
 improvements of knowledge. If you have resolutely 
 fixed your opinion, though it be upon too slight and 
 insufficient grounds, yet you will stand determined to 
 renounce the strongest reason brought for the contrary 
 opinion, and grow obstinate against the force of the 
 clearest argument. Positivo is a man of this character, 
 and has often pronounced his assurance of the Cartesian 
 vortexes ; last year some further light broke in upon 
 his understanding, with uncontrollaUe force, by reading 
 something of mathematical philosophy ; yet having 
 asserted his former opinions in a most confident man- 
 ner, he is tempted now to wink a Httle against the truth, 
 or to prevaricate in his discourse upon that subject, lest, 
 by admitting conviction, he should expose himself to 
 the necessity of confessing his former folly and mis- 
 take ; and he has not humility enough for that 
 
 2. A dogmatical spirit naturally leads us to arrogance 
 of mind, and gives a 'man some airs in conversation, 
 which are too haughty and assuming. Audens is a 
 man of learning, and very good company, but his 
 infallible assurance renders his carriage sometimes 
 insupportable. 
 
 3. A dogmatical spirit inclines a man to be censori- 
 L>us of his neighbours. Every one of his own opinions 
 appear to him written as it were with sunbeams, and 
 
24 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 h6 grows angry that his neighbour does not see it in 
 the same Hght. He is tempted to disdain his corres- 
 pondents as men of a low and dark understanding, be- 
 cause they will not believe what he does. Furio goes 
 farther in this wild track, and charges those who refuse 
 his notions with wilful obstinacy and vile hypocrisy ; 
 he tells them boldly that they resist the truth and sin 
 against their consciences. 
 
 These are the men, that when they deal in contro- 
 versy delight in reproaches. They abound in tossing 
 about absurdity and stupidity among their brethren. 
 They cast the imputation of heresy and nonsense plen- | 
 tifully upon their antagonists ; and in matters of sacred 
 importance, they deal outtheir anathemas in abundance, 
 upon Christians better than themselves ; they denounce 
 damnation upon their neighbours, without either justice j 
 or mercy ; and when ihey pronounce sentence of di- j 
 vine wrath against supposed heretics, they add their I 
 own human fire and indignation. A dogmatist in reli- 
 gion is not a great way off from a bigot, and is in high | 
 danger of growing up to be a bloody persecutor. 
 
 XI. Rule. Though caution and slow assent will ! 
 guard you against frequent mistakes and retractions, 
 yet you should get humility and courage enough to 
 retract any mistake, and confess an error ; freouent 
 changes are tokens of levitj' in our first determinations ; 
 yet you should never be too proud to change your 
 opinion, nor frighted at the name of a changeling. 
 Learn to scorn those vulgar bugbears which confirm 
 foolish man in his own mistakes, for fear of being 
 charged with inconstancy. I confess it is better not 
 to judge, than to judge falsely, and it is wiser to with- 
 hold our assent till we see complete evidence ; but if 
 we have too suddenly given our assent, as the wisest 
 man does sometimes, if we have professed what we , 
 find afterwards to be false, we should never be ashamed 
 nor afraid to renounce a mistake. That is a noble 
 essay which is found among the occasional papers, to 
 encourage the world to practice retractions ; and I 
 would recommend it to the perusal of every scholar 
 and every Christian. 
 
 Xli. Rule. He that would raise his judgment 
 above the vulgar rank of mankind, and learn to pass a* 
 ust sentence on persons and things, mus ttake heed of a 
 
OP THE MIND. 25 
 
 fanciful temper of mind, and a iiumorous conduct in his 
 affairs. Fancy and humour early and constantly indul- 
 ged, may expect an old age overrun with follies. 
 
 The notion of a humorist is one that is greatly pleas- 
 ed, or greatly displeased with little things, who sets 
 his heart much upon matters of very small importance, 
 who has his will determined every day by trifles, his 
 action* seldom directed by the reason and nature of 
 things, and his passions frequently raised by things of 
 little moment. Where this practice is allowed, it 
 will insensibly warp the judgment to pronounce little 
 things great, and tempt you to lay a great weight 
 upon them. In short, this temper will incline you to 
 pass an unjust value on almost every thing that occurs ; 
 and every step you take in this path, is just so far out 
 of the way to wisdom. 
 
 XIIl^. Rule. For the same reason have a care of tri- 
 fling with things important and momentous, or of sport- 
 ing with things awful and sacred ; do not indulge a spirit 
 of ridicule, as some witty men do on all occasions and 
 subjects. This will as unhappily bias the judgment on 
 the other side, and incline you to pass a low esteem 
 on the most valuable objects. Whatsoever evil habit 
 we indulge in practice, it will insensibly obtain a power 
 over our understanding, md betray us into many errors, 
 Jocander is ready with his jest to answer every thing 
 that he hears ; he reads books in the same jovial hu- 
 mour, and has gotten the art of turning every thought 
 and sentence into merriment. How many awkward 
 and irregular judgments does this man pass upon sol- 
 emn subjects, even when he designs to be grave and in 
 earnest? His mirth and laughing humour is formed 
 into habit and temper, and leads his understanding 
 shamefully astray. You will see him wandering in 
 pursuit of a gay flying feather, and he is drawn by a 
 kind of IGNIS fatuus into bogs and mire, almost every 
 day of his life. 
 
 XIV. Rule. Ever maintain a virtuous and pious frame 
 of spirit ; for an indulgence of vicious inclinations deba- 
 ses the understanding, and perverts the judgment. 
 Whoredom and wine,and new wine, take away the heart 
 and soul, and reason of a man. Sensuality ruins the 
 better faculties of the mind ; an indulgence to appetite 
 and passion enfeebles the powers of reason, it makes 
 
26 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 the judgment weak and susceptive of every falsehood, 
 and especially of such mistakes as have a tendency 
 tov^^ards the gratification of the animal ; and it warps 
 the soul a side strangely from that steadfast honesty and 
 integrity that necessiarily helongs to the pursuit ot truth. 
 It is the virtuous man who is in a fair way to wisdom. 
 " God gives to those that are good in his sight, wisdom, 
 and knowledge, and joy." Ecc. ii. 26. 
 
 Piety towards God, as well as sobriety and virtue, 
 are necessary qualifications to make a truly wise and 
 judicious man. He that abandons religion must act in 
 such a contradiction to his own conscience and besi; 
 judgment, that he abuses and spoils the faculty itself. 
 It is thus in the nature of things, and it is thus by the 
 righteous judgment of God ; even the pretended sages 
 among the heathens, who did not like to retain God in 
 their knowledge, they v.ere given up to a reprobate 
 mind, uc vow ahiuy.Qv an undistinguishing or injudicious 
 mind, so that they judged inconsistently, and practised 
 mere absurdities, tol •j.-.-i ctr-iKovr-ji , Rom. i. ^8. 
 
 And it is the character of the slaves of antichrist, % 
 Thess. ii. 10. 8ic. that those "who receive not the love 
 of the truth, were exposed to the power of diabolical 
 sleights and lying wonders." When divine revelation 
 shines and blazes in the face of men with glorious evi- 
 dence, and they wink their eyes against it, the God of 
 this world is suffered to blind them even in the most 
 obvious, common, and sensible thmgs. The great God 
 of heaven, for this cause, sends them strong delusions 
 that they should believe a lie ; and the nonsense of 
 transubstantiation in the popish world, is a most glar- 
 ing accomplishment of this prophecy, beyond even 
 what could have been thought of or expected among 
 creatures who pretend to reason. 
 
 XV. Rule. Watch against the pride of your 
 own reason, and a vain conceit of your own intel- 
 lectual powers, with the neglect of divine aid and 
 blessing. Presume not upon great attainments in 
 knowledge by your own self-sufficiency ; those who 
 trust to their own understandings entirely , are pro- 
 nounced fools in the word of God ; and it is the wisest 
 of men gives them this character, " he that trustetli 
 in his own heart is a fool." Prov. xxviii. 26. And the 
 same divine writer advises us " to trust in the Lord with 
 
OF THE MIND. 27 
 
 Jill our heart, and not to lean to our own understandings, 
 nor to be wise in our OAvn eyes." Chap. iii. 5, 7. 
 
 Tiiosewho, witha neglect of religion, and dependence 
 on God, apply themselves to search out every article 
 in the things of God by the mere dint of their own 
 reason, have been suffered to run into wild excesses of 
 foolery, and strange extravagance of opinions. Every 
 one who pursues this vain course, and will not ask for 
 the conduct of God in the study of religion, has just 
 reason to f^ar he shall be left of God, and given up a 
 prey to a thousand prejudices ; that he shall be con- 
 signed over to the follies of his own heart, and pursue 
 his own temporal and eternal ruin. And even in com- 
 mon studies, we should, by humility and dependence, 
 engage the God of truth on our side. 
 
 XVI. Rule. Offer u{) therefore your daily requests 
 to God, the Father of lights, that he would bless all 
 your attempts and labours in reading, study, and con- 
 versation. Think with yourself, how easily and how 
 insensibly, by one turn of thought, he can lead you 
 into a large scene of useful ideas ; he can teach you to 
 lay hold on a clue w^hich may guide your thoughts with 
 safety and ease through all the difficulties of an intricate 
 subject. Think how easily the Author of your beings 
 can direct your motions by his providence, so that the 
 glance of an eye, or a word striking the ear, or a sud- 
 den turn of the fancy, shall conduct you to a train of 
 happy sentiments. By his secret and supreme meth- 
 od of government, he can draw you to read such a trea- 
 tise, or converse with such a person, who may give you 
 more light into some deep subject in an hour, than you 
 could obtain by a month of your own solitary labour. 
 
 Think with yourself, with how much ease the God 
 of spirits can cast into your minds some useful suggesr 
 tion, and give a happy turn to your own thoughts, for 
 the thoughts of those with Avhom you converse, whence 
 you may derive unspeakable light and satisfaction in a 
 matter that has long puzzled and entangled you ; he 
 can show you a ^^ path which the vulture's eye hath not 
 seen,'^ and lead you by some unknown gate or portal, 
 out of a wilderness and labyrinth of difficulties wherein 
 you have been long wanderiuj^. 
 
 Implore constantly his divine grace to point your in- 
 clination to proper studies, and to fix your heart there. 
 He can keep off temptations on the right hand and on 
 
28 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 the left, both by the course of his providence, and by 
 the secret and insensible intimations of his Spirit He 
 Qan guard your understandings from every evil influ- 
 ence of error, and secure you from the danger of evil 
 books and men, which might otherwise have a fatal 
 effect, and lead you into pernicious mistakes. 
 
 Nor let this sort of advice fall under the censure of 
 the godless and profane, as a mere piece of bigotry or 
 enthusiasm, derived from faith and the Bible ; for the 
 reasons which I have given to support this pious prac- 
 tice of invoking the blessing of God on our studies, are 
 derived from the light of nature as well as revelation. 
 He that made our souls, and is the Father of spirits, 
 shall he not be supposed to have a most friendly influ- 
 ence towards the instruction and government of them ? 
 The Author of our rational powers can involve them in 
 darkness when he pleases, by a sudden distemper, or 
 he can abandon them to wander into dark and foolish 
 opinions when they are filled with a vain conceit of 
 their own light. Efe expects to be acknowledged in the 
 common affairs of life, and he does as certainly expect 
 it in the superiour operations of the mind, and in the 
 search of knowledge and truth. The very heathens, 
 by the light of reason,wrere taught to say, " A Jove Prin- 
 ctpium MusoB." In works of learning they thought it 
 necessary to begin with God. Even the poets call 
 upon the muse as a goddess to assist them in their 
 compositions. 
 
 The first lines of Homer in his Iliad and Odyssey, 
 the first line of Musseus in his song of Hero and Le- 
 ander, the beginning of Hesiod in his poem of Weeks 
 and Days, and several others, furnish us with sufficient 
 examples of this kind ; nor does Ovid leave out this 
 piece of devotion as he begins his stories of the Met- 
 amorphosis. Christianity so much the more obliges 
 us by the precepts of Scripture to invoke the assistance 
 of the true God in all our labours of the mind, for the 
 improvement of ourselves and others. Bishof) Saun- 
 derson says, that study without prayer is atheism, as 
 well as that prayer without study is presumption. 
 And we are still more abundantly encouraged by the 
 testimony of those who have acknowledged from their 
 own experience, that sincere prayer was no hindrance 
 to their studies ; they have gotten more knowledge 
 sometimes upon their knees, than by their labour m 
 
OF THE MIND. 29 
 
 perHsing a variety of authors, and they have left this 
 observation for such as follow, Bene ordsse est bene stu- 
 duisse, Praying is the best studying. 
 
 To conclude, let industry and devotion join together, 
 and you need not doubt the happy success; Prov. ii. H, 
 " Incline thine ear unto wisdom, apply thine heart to 
 understanding ; cry after knowledge, and lift up thy 
 voice ; seek her as silver, and search for her as forbid- 
 den treasures : Then shalt thou understand the fear of 
 the Lord," &c. which is " the beginning of wisdom," 
 It is " the Lord who gives wisdom, even to the simple, 
 and out of his mouth cometh knowledge and unaei- 
 standing." 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Observation, Reading, Instruction by Lectures, Con- 
 versation, and Study, compared. 
 
 X HERE are five eminent means or methods where- 
 by the mind is improved in the knowledge of things; 
 and these are observation, reading, instruction by lec- 
 tures, conversation, and meditation, which last in a 
 most peculiar manner, is called study. Let us survey 
 the general definitions or description of them all. 
 
 I. Observation is the notice that we tiike of ail occur- 
 rences in human hfe, whether they are sensible or intel- 
 lectual, whether relating to persons or things, to our- 
 selves or others. It is this that furnishes us, even from 
 our infancy, with a rich variety of ideas and proposi- 
 tions, words and phrases ; it is by this we know that fire 
 v.'Ml burn, that the sun gives light, that a horse eats grass, 
 that an acorn produces an oak, that man is a being ca- 
 pable of reasoning and discourse, that o'ur judgment 
 IS weak, that our mistakes are many, that our sorrows 
 are great, that our bodies die and are carried to the 
 grave, and that one generation succeeds another. All 
 those things which we see, which we hear or feel, 
 which we perceive by sense or consciousness, or which 
 we know in a direct manner, with scarce any exercise 
 of our reflecting faculties or our reasoning powers, may 
 be included under the general name of observation. 
 
 When this observation relates to any thing that im- 
 mediately concerns ourselves, and of which we are 
 C 2 
 
so IMPROVEMENT 
 
 conscious, it may be called experience. So I am said 
 to know or experience that I have in myself a power 
 of thinking, fearing, loving, &c. That I have appetites 
 and passions working in me, and many personal oc- 
 currences have attended me in this life. 
 
 Observation therefore includes all that Mr. Locke 
 means by sensation and reflection. 
 
 Wiien we are searching out the nature or properties 
 of any being by various methods of trial ; or when we 
 apply some active powers, or set some causes to work, 
 to observe what effects they would produce, this sort 
 of observation is called experiment. So when I throw 
 a bullet into water, 1 find it sinks ; and when 1 throw the 
 same bullet into quicksilver, 1 see it swims ; but if I 
 beat out this bullet into a thin hollow shape like a dish, 
 then it will swim in the water too. So when 1 strike 
 two flints together, I find they produce fire ; when I 
 throw a seed into the earth, it grows up into a plant. 
 
 All these belong to the first method of knowledge, 
 which I shall call observation. 
 
 II. Reading is that means or metliod of knowledge, 
 wherebj^ " we acquaint ourselves Avith what other men 
 have written, or published to the world in their wri- 
 tings." These arts of reading and writing, are of infi- 
 nite advantage ; for by them we are made partakers of 
 the sentiments, observations, reasonings, and improve- 
 ments, of all the learned world, in the most remote 
 nations, and in former ages, almost from the beginning 
 of mankind. 
 
 III. Public or private lectures are such " verbal in- 
 structions as are given by a teacher while the learners 
 attend in silence." This is the way of learning reli- 
 gion from the pulpit, or of philosophy or theology 
 from the professor's chair, or of mathematics by a 
 teacher showing us various theorems or problems, i. 
 c. speculations or practices by demonstration and 
 operation, with all the instruments of art necessary to 
 those operations. 
 
 IV. Conversation is another method of improving 
 our minds, wherein " by mutual discourse and inquiry 
 we learn the sentiments of others, as well as commu- 
 nicate our sentiments to others in the same manner." 
 Sometimes indeed, though both parties speak by turns, 
 yet the advantage is only on one sid€ ; as, when a 
 
OF THE MIND. Si 
 
 teacher and a learner meet and discourse together; 
 but frequently the profit is mutual. Under this head 
 of conversation, we may also rank disputes of various 
 kinds. 
 
 V. Meditation or study includes all those " exercises 
 of the mind, whereby we render all the former meth- 
 ods useful, for our increase in true knowledge and wis- 
 dom." It is by meditation we come to confirm our 
 memory of things that pass through our thoughts in 
 the occurrences of life, m our own experiences, and in 
 the observations we make ; it is by meditation that we 
 draw various inferences, and establish in our minds 
 general principles of knowledge. It is by meditation 
 that we compare the various idpas which we derive 
 from our senses, or from the operations of our souls, 
 and join them in propositions. It is by meditation 
 that we fix in our memc^ry whatsoever we learn, and 
 form our own judgment of the truth or falsehood, 
 the strength or weakness of what others speak or 
 write. It is meditation or study that drav.s out 
 long chains of argument, and searches and finds deep 
 and difiicult truths, which before lay concealed in dark- 
 ness. 
 
 It would be a needless thing to prove that our own 
 solitary meditations, together with the few observa- 
 tions that the most part of mankind are capable of ma- 
 king, are not sufficient, of themselves, to lead us into 
 the attainment of any considerable proportion of know- 
 ledge, at least in an age so much improved as ours is, 
 withoutthe assistance of conversation and reading, and 
 other proper instructions that are to be attained in our 
 days. Yet each of these five methods have their peculiar 
 advantages, whereby they assist each other ; and their 
 peculiar defects, wiiich have need to be supplied by the 
 other's assistance. Let us trace over some of the par- 
 ticular advantages of each. 
 
 I. One method of improving the mind, is observation, 
 and the advantages of it are these : 
 
 i. It is owing to observation that our " mind is fur- 
 nished with the first simple and complex ideas." It is 
 this lays the ground work and foundation of all know- 
 ledge, and makes us capable of using a.nj of the other 
 methods for improving the mind ; for if we did not 
 attain a variety of sensible and intellectual ideas by 
 
1 
 
 32 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 the sensations of outward objects, by the consciousness i 
 of our own appetites and passions, pleasures and pains, 
 and by inAvard experience of tlie aclinj^s of our own 
 spirits, it would be impossible either for men or books 
 to teach us any thing. It is observation that must give 
 us our first ideas of things, as it includes in it sense and 
 consciousness. 
 
 2. All our knowledge derived from observatiOTi, 
 whether it be of single ideas or of propositions, is know- 
 ledge gotten at first hand. Hereby we see and know 
 things as they are, or as they appear to us ; w'e take 
 the impressions of them on our minds from the origi- 
 nal objects themselves, which give a clearer and stron- 
 ger conception of things ; these ideas are more lively, 
 and the propositions (at least in many cases) are much 
 more evident. Whereas v:hat knowledge v/e derive 
 from lectures, reading and conversation, is but the co- 
 py of other men's ideas, that k, the picture of a pic- 
 ture ; and it is one remove further from the original. 
 
 3. Another advantage of observation is, that we may 
 gain knowledge all the day long, and every moment of 
 our lives, and ever;^ moment of our existence we may 
 be adding something to our intellectual treasures 
 thereby, except only w hile we are asleep ; and even 
 then the remembrance of our dreaming will teach \js 
 some truths, and' lay a foundation for a better acquain- 
 tance with human nature, both in the powers and in 
 the frailties of it. 
 
 II. The next way of improving the mind is by read- 
 ing, and the advantages of it are such as these : 
 
 1. By reading we acquaint ourselves in a very exten- 
 sive manner " with the affairs, actions, and thoughts 
 of the living and the dead, in the most remote nations, 
 and most distant ages ;" and that with as much ease 
 ^s though they lived in our own age and nation. By 
 reading of books, we may learn something of all parts 
 of mankind ; whereas, by observation, we learn all 
 from ourselves, and only what comes within our own 
 direct cognizance ; by conversation we can only enjoy 
 the assistance of a very few persons, viz. those who are 
 near us, and live at the same time when we do, that is, 
 our neighbours and contemporaries; but our know- 
 ledge is much more narrowed still, if we confine our- 
 
OF THE MIND. 35 
 
 selves merely to our own solitary reasonings, without 
 much observation or reading. For then ail our im- 
 provement must arise only from our own inward pow- 
 ers and njeditations. 
 
 2. By reading we learn not only the actions and sen- 
 timents of different nations and ages, but we transfer 
 to ourselves the knowledge and improvements of the 
 " most learned men, the wisest and the best of man- 
 kind," when or wheresoever they lived : For though 
 many books have been written by weak and injudicious 
 persons, yet the most of those books which have ob- 
 tained great reputation in the world, are the products 
 of great and wise men in their several ages and na- 
 tions ; whereas we can obtain the conversation and in- 
 struction of those only who are within the reach of 
 our dwellings, or our acquaintance, whether they are 
 wise or unwise; and sometimes that narrclw spheVe 
 scarce affords any person of great eminence in wisdom 
 or learning, unless our insti-ucter happen to have this 
 character. And as for our own study and meditation, 
 even when we arrive at some good degrees of learning, 
 our advantage for further improvement in knowledge 
 by them is still far more contracted than what we may 
 derive from reading. 
 
 S. When we read good authors we learn " the best, 
 the most laboured, and most refined sentiments even 
 of those wise and learned men ;" for they have studi- 
 ed hard, and have committed to writing their maturest 
 thoughts, and the result of their long study and ex- 
 perience ; whereas by conversation, and in some lec- 
 tures, we obtain many times, only the present thoughts 
 of our tutors or friends, Avhich (though they may be 
 bright and useful) yet, at first perhaps, may be sudden 
 and indigested, and are mere hints which have risen to 
 no maturity. 
 
 4. It is another advantage of reading, that we may 
 " review what we have read ;" we may consult the 
 page again and again, and meditate on it at successive 
 seasons in our serenest and retired hours, having the 
 book alwaj^s at hand ; but what we obtain by conver- 
 sation and in lectures, is oftentimes lost again as soon 
 as the company breaks up, or at least when the day 
 vanishes ; unless we happen to have the talent of a 
 good memory, or quickly reth'e and note down what 
 
34 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 remarkables we have found in those discourses. And 
 for the same reason, and for the Avant of retiring and 
 writing;, many a learned man has lost several use- 
 ful meditations of his own, and could never recal th»m 
 again. 
 
 ill. The advantages of verbal instructions by public 
 or private lectures are these : 
 
 1. There is something more sprightly, more delight- 
 ful and entertaining in the living discourse of a wise, 
 learned, and well qualified teacher, than there is in the 
 silent and sedentary practice of roiading. The very 
 turn of voice, the good pronunciation, and the })olite 
 and alluring manner which some teachers have attained, 
 will engage the attention, keep the soul fixed, and con- 
 vey and insinuate into the mind the ideas of things in 
 a more lively and forcible way, than the mere reading 
 of books in the silence and retirement of the closet. 
 
 S. A tutor or instructer when he paraphrases and ex- 
 plains other authors, can " mark out the precise point 
 of difficulty or controversy," and unfold it. He can 
 show you which paragraphs are of greatest importance, 
 and which are of less moment. He can teach his hear- 
 ers what authors, or what parts of an author, are best 
 Avorth reading on any particular subject ; and thus save 
 his disciples ranch time and pains, by shortening the 
 labours of their closet and private studies. He can 
 show you what were the doctrines of the ancients in a 
 compendium, which perhaps would cost much labour 
 and the perusal of many books to attain. He can inform 
 you what new doctrines or sentiments are arising in the 
 world, before they come to be public ; as w^ell as ac- 
 quaint you with his own private thoughts, and his own 
 experiments and observations, which never were, and 
 perhaps never will he published to the Avorld, and yet 
 may be very valuable and useful. 
 
 S. A living instructer can convey to our senses those 
 notions with which he would furnish our minds, when 
 he teaches us natural philosophy, or most parts of 
 mathematical learning. He can make the experim.ent.s 
 before our eyes. He can describe figures and diagrams, 
 point to the lines and angles, and make out the demon- 
 stration in a more intelligible manner by sensible 
 means, Avhich cannot so w-ell be done by mere reading, 
 even though we should have the same figures lying in it 
 
OF THE3imD. s:, 
 
 book before our eyes A living teacher, therefore, is a 
 most necessary help in these studies. 
 
 I might add also, that even where the subject of dis- 
 course is moral, logical, or rhetorical, fee. and which 
 does not directly come under the notice of our serlses, 
 a tutor may explain his ideas by such familiar exam- 
 ples, and plain or simple similitudes, as seldom find 
 place in books and writings. 
 
 4. When an instructer in his lectures delivers any 
 matter of difficulty, or expresses himself in such a man- 
 ner as seems obscure, so that you do not take up his 
 ideas clearly or fully, you have opportunity, at least 
 when the lecture is finished, or at other proper seasons, 
 to inquire how such a sentence should be understood, 
 or how such adifficulty may be explained and removed. 
 If there be permission given to free converse with 
 the tutor, either in the midst of the lecture, or rather 
 at the end of it, concerning any doubts or difficulties 
 that occur to the hearer, this brings it very near to con- 
 versation or discourse. 
 
 IV. Conversation is the next method of iraprore- 
 ment, and it is attended Avith the following advantages : 
 1. When we converse familiarly with a learned 
 friend, we have his own help at hand to explain to us 
 every word and sentiment that seems obscure in his- 
 discourse, and to inform us of his whole meaning, so 
 that we are in much less danger of mistaking his sense : 
 whereas in books, whatsoever is really obscure, may 
 also abide always obscure without remedy, since the 
 author is not at hand, that we may inquire his sense. 
 
 If we mistake the meaning of our friend in conver- 
 sation, Ave are cjuickly set right again ; but in read- 
 ing we many times go on in the same mistake, and 
 are not capable of recovering ourselves from it. — 
 I Thence it comes to pass that we have so many con- 
 tests in all ages about the meaning of ancient authoj-s, 
 and especially the sacred writers. Happy should we 
 be, could we but converse with Moses, fsaiah, and St 
 Paul, and consult the prophets and apostles, wlien we 
 meet with a difficult text ! But that glorious conversa- 
 tion is reserved for the ages of future blessedness. 
 
 2. When we are discoursing upon any theme with a 
 f/riend, we may propose our doubts and objections 
 against his sentiments, and have them solved and an- 
 
5a IMPROVEMENT 
 
 swered at once. The difficulties that arise in our 
 minds may be removed by one enlightening word of 
 our correspondent ; whereas in reading, if a difficulty 
 or question arise in our thoughts which the author has 
 not happened to mention, we must be content without 
 a present answer or solution of it. Books cannot speak. 
 
 3. Not only the doubts which arise in the mind upon 
 any subject of discourse are easily proposed and solved 
 in conversation, but the very difficulties we meet with 
 in books and in our private studies, may find a relief by 
 friendly conference. We may pore upon a knotty point 
 in solitary meditation many months without a solution, 
 because perhaps we have gotten into a wrong tract of 
 thought; and our labour (while we are pursuing a false 
 scent) is not only useless and unsuccessful, but it leads 
 us perhaps into a long train of error, for want of being 
 corrected in the first step. But if we note down this 
 difficulty when we read it, we may propose it to an 
 ingenious correspondent when w^e see him ; we. may 
 be relieved in a moment, and find the difficulty vanish : 
 He beholds the object perhaps in a different view, sets 
 it before us in quite another light, leads us at once into 
 evidence and truth, and that with a delightful surprise. 
 
 4. Conversation calls out into light what has been 
 lodged in all the recesses and secret chambers of the 
 soul ; by occasional hints and incidents, it brings old 
 useful notions into remembrance ; it unfolds and dis- 
 plays the hidden treasiures of knowledge with which 
 reading, observation, and study, had before furnished 
 the mind. By mutual discourse the soul is awakened 
 and allured to bring forth its hoards of knowledge, and 
 it learns how to render them most useful to mankind. 
 A man of vast reading, without conversation, is like a 
 miser who lives only to himself. 
 
 5. In free and friendly conversation, our intellectual 
 |)0w^ers are more animated, and our spirits act with a 
 superior vigour in the quest and pursuit of unknown 
 truths. There is a sharpness and SHgacity of thought 
 that attends conversation, bej'ond w hat Ave find whilst 
 we are shut up reading and musing in our retirements. 
 Our souls may be serene in solitude, but not sparkling, 
 though perhaps we are employed in reading the works 
 of the brightest writers. Often has it'happened in free 
 discourse, that new thouglits are strangely struck out. 
 
OF THE MIND. 37 
 
 atid the seeds of truth sparkle and blaze through the 
 company, which in calm and silent reading would never 
 have been excited. By conversation you wiii both 
 give and receive this benefit ; as flints when put into 
 motion and striking against each other, produce living 
 fire on both sides, which would never have arisen from 
 the same hard materials in a state of rest. 
 
 6. In generous conversation, arnOngst ingenious and 
 learned men, we have a great advantage of proposing 
 our private opinions, and of bringing our own senti- 
 ments to the test, and learning in a more compendious 
 and safer way what the world will judge of them, 
 how mankind will receive them, what objections may 
 be raised against them, what defects there are in our 
 scheme, and how to correct our own mistakes ; wiiich 
 advantages are not so easy to be obtained by our own 
 private meditations ^ for the pleasure we take in our 
 own notions, and the passion of self love, as well a? 
 the narrowness of our views, tempt us to pass too 
 favourable an opinion on our own schemes ; whereas 
 the variety of genius in our several associates, wiii give 
 happy notices aow our opinions will stand in the view 
 of mankind. 
 
 T. It is also another considerable advantage of con-* 
 versation, that it furnishes the student with knowledge 
 of men and the affairs of life, as reading furnishes him 
 with book learning. A man who dwells all his days 
 among books, may have amassed together a vast heap 
 of notions, but he may be a mere scholar,which is a con- 
 temptible sort of character in the world. A hennit 
 who has been shut up in his cell in a collej^e,|has con- 
 tracted a sort of mould and rust upon his soul, and 
 all his airs of behaviour have a certain awkwardness in 
 them ; but these awkward airs are worn away by de- 
 grees in company ; the rust and the mould are filed and 
 brushed off by polite conversation. The scholar now 
 becomes a citizen or a gentleman, a neighbour and a 
 friend ; he learns how to dress his sentiments in the 
 .urest colours, as well as to set them in the strongest 
 ight. Thus he brings out his notions with honour, he 
 nakes some use of them in the world, and improves 
 he theory by the practice. 
 
 But before we proceed too far in finishing a bright 
 )iarj*o^«r bv cc^vcrsatjlon, we should cofi&ider' that 
 
S8 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 something else is necessary besides an acquaintance- 
 with men and books, and therefore I add, 
 
 V. Mere lectures, reading, and conversation without 
 thinking, are not sufficient to make a man of know- 
 ledge and wisdom. It is bur own thought and reflec- 
 tion, study and meditation, must attend all the other 
 methods of improvement, and perfect them. It car- 
 ries these advantages with it : 
 
 1. Though observation and instruction, reading and 
 conversation, may furnish us with many ideas of men 
 and things, yet it is our own meditation, and the labour 
 of our own thoughts that must form our judgment of 
 things. Our own thoughts should join or disjoin these 
 ideas in a proposition for ourselves ; it is our own 
 mind that must judge for ourselves concerning the 
 agreement or disagreement of ideas, and form propo- 
 sitions of truth out of them. Reading and conversation 
 may acquaint us with many truths, and with many ar- 
 guments to support them, but it is our own study and 
 reasoning that must determine whether these proposi- 
 tions are true, and whether these arguments are just 
 and solid. 
 
 It is confessed there are a thousand things which 
 our eyes have not seen, and which would never come 
 within the reach of our personal and immediate know- 
 ledge and observation, because of the distance of times 
 and places ; these must be known by consulting other 
 persons, and that is done either in their writings or in 
 their discourses. But after all, let this be a fixed point 
 with us, that it is our own reflection and judgment 
 must determine how far we should receive that which 
 books or men inform us of, and how far they are worthy 
 of our assent and credit. ^ 
 
 2. It is meditation and study that transfers and con- 
 veys the notions and sentiments of others to ourselves, 
 so as to make them properly our own. It is our own 
 judgment upon them as well as our memory of them, 
 that makes them become our own property. Itdoesas 
 it were concoct our intellectual food, and turns it into a 
 part of ourselves; just as a man may call his limbs and 
 his flesh hisown,whetherheborroAvedthe materials from 
 the ox or the sheep, from the lark or the lobster ; wheth- 
 er he derived it from corn or milk,the fruits of the trees^ 
 or the herbs and roots of the earth ; it is all now become 
 
or THE MIND. 39 
 
 one substance with himself, and he wields and manages 
 those muscles and limbs for his own proj)er purposes, 
 which once were the substance of other animaib or veg- 
 etables ; that very substance which last w^eek was gra- 
 zing in the field, or swimming in the sea, waving in the 
 milk pail, or growing in the garden, is now become part 
 of the man. 
 
 3. By study and meditation we improve the hints 
 that we have acquired by observation, conversation, 
 and reading; we take more time in thinking, and by 
 the labour of the mind we penetrate deeper into the 
 themes of knowledge, and carry our thoughts some- 
 times much farther on many siibjects, than M'e ever 
 met with, either in the books of the dead, or discour- 
 ses of the living. It is our own reasoning that draws 
 out one truth from ajiother, and forms a whole scheme 
 or science, from a feiv hints which we borrowed else- 
 where. 
 
 By a survey of these things,-w^ may jnstly concIude,that 
 he who spends all his time iu hearing lectures, or por- 
 ing upon books, without observation, riieditation,or con- 
 verse, will have but a mere historical knowledge of lear- 
 ning, and be able only to tell what others have known 
 or: said on the subject; he that lets all his time flow 
 away in conversation, without due observation, reading 
 or study, will gain but a slight and superficial knowledge, 
 which will be in danger of vanishing with the voice of , 
 the speaker ; and he that confines himself merely to *• 
 his closet, and his ov>'n narrow observation of things, 
 and is taught only by his own solitary thoughts, with- 
 out instruction by lectures, reading, or free conversa- 
 tion, will be in danger of a narrow spirit, a vain conceit 
 of himself, and an unreasonable contempt of others ; 
 and after all, he will obtain a very limited and imperfect 
 view and knowledge of things, and he will seldom learn 
 how to make that knowledge useful. 
 
 These five methods of improvement should, be pursu- 
 ed jointly, and go hand in hand, where our circumstan- 
 4:es are so happy as to find opportunity and'conveniency 
 to enjoy them all ; though 1 must give my opinion that 
 two of them, viz. reading and meditation,)sliouW em- 
 ploy much more of our time, than pubhc lectures or 
 conversation and discourse. As for observation, we 
 may be always acc^uiring knowledge that way, wheth- 
 er we are alone or m company. 
 
40 rMPROVEMENT 
 
 But it will be for our further improvement, if we ^ 
 over aii these five methods of obtaining knowledge more 
 distinctly and more at large, an^d see what special ad- 
 vances in useful science \\e may draw from them all. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Rules rekiLing to Observation. 
 
 Jl hough observation, in the strict sense of the word, 
 and as it is distinguished from meditation and study, is 
 the first means of improvemerit, and in its strictest sense 
 does not include in it any reasonings of the mind upon 
 the tilings Avhich we observe, or inferences drawn 
 from them ; yet the motions of the mind are feo exceed- 
 ing swift, that it is hardly possible for a thinking man to 
 gain experiences or observations, without making some 
 secret and short reflections upon them ; and therefore, 
 in giving a few directions concerning this method of im- 
 provement, I shall not so narrowly confine myself to 
 the first mere impression of objects on the mind by ob- 
 servation ; but include also some hints w hich relate to 
 the first, most easy, and obvious reflections or reason- 
 ings which arise from them. 
 
 I. Let the enlargement of your knowledge be one 
 constant view and design in life ; since there is no time 
 or place, no transactions, occurrences, or engagements 
 in life, which excludes us from this method of improv- 
 ing the mind. When we are alone, even in darkness 
 and silence, we may converse with our own hearts, ob- 
 serve the working of our own spirits, and reflect upon 
 the inward motions of our own passions in some of the 
 latest occurrences in lif<- : we may acquaint ourselves 
 with the powers and properties, the tendencies and in- 
 clinations of both body and spirit, and gain a more in- 
 timate knowledge of ourselves. When we are in com- 
 pany, we may discover something more of human na- 
 ture, of human passions and follies, and of human af- 
 fairs, vices and virtues, by conversing with mankind 
 and observing their conduct. T^or is there any thing 
 miore valuable than the knowledge of ourselves, and 
 the knowledge of men, except it be the knowledge of 
 God who made us, and our relation to him as our 
 Governor. 
 
 When we are in the house, or the city, wheresoever 
 
OF THE MIND. 41 
 
 we turn our eyes, we see the works of men ; when we 
 are abroad in the country, we behold more of the works 
 of God. The skies and the ground, above and beneath» 
 us, and the animal and vegetable world round about us, 
 may entertain our observation with ten thousand varie- 
 ties. 
 
 Endeavour therefore to derive some instruction, or 
 improvement of the mind from every thing which you 
 see or hear, from every thing which occurs in human 
 life, from every thing within you or without you. 
 
 Fetch down some knowledge from the clouds, the' 
 stars, the sun, the moon, and the revolutions of all the 
 planets ; dig and draw up some valuable meditations 
 from the depths of the earth, and search them through 
 the vast oceans of water ; extract some intellectual 
 improvements from the minerals and metals ; from the 
 wonders of nature amongthe vegetables and herbs, trees 
 and flowers. Learn some lessons from the birds and 
 the beasts, and the meanest insects. Read the wisdom of 
 God and his admirable contrivance in them all : read his 
 Almighty power, his rich and various goodness, in all 
 the works of his hands. 
 
 From the day and the night, the hours and the flying 
 minutes, learn a wise improvement of time, and be 
 watchful to seize every opportunity to increase in know- 
 ledge. 
 
 From the vicissitudes and revolutions of nations and 
 families, and from the various occurrences of the world, 
 learn the instability of mortal affairs, the uncertainty of 
 life, the certainty ofdeath. From a coffin and a funeral, 
 learn to meditate upon your own departure. 
 
 From the vices and follies of others, observe what is 
 hateful in them ; consider how such a practice looks in 
 anotherperson, and remember that it looks as ill or worse 
 in yourself. From the virtue of others, learn something 
 worthy of your imitation. 
 
 From tlie deformity, the distress, or calamity of 
 others, derive lessons of thankfulness to God, and hymns 
 of grateful praise to your Creator, Governor, and Bene- 
 factor, who has formed you in a better mould, and 
 guarded you from those evils. Learn also the sacred 
 lesson of contentment in your own estate, and com- 
 passion to your neighbour under his miseries. 
 
 From your natural powers, sensations, judgment, 
 D2 
 
4-2 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 memory, hands, feet, fcc. make this inference, that 
 they Wf-re not given you for nothing, but for some use- 
 ful employment to the honour of your Maker, and for 
 the good of your fellow-creatures, as -well as for your 
 own best interest nnd final happiness. 
 
 From the sorrows, the pains, the sicknesses and suf- 
 ferings that attend you, learn the evil of sin, and the im 
 pc-. u ciion of your present state. From your own sins 
 and follies, learn the patience of God toward you, and 
 the practice of humility toward God and man. 
 
 Thus from every appearance in nature, and from 
 ever J occurrence in life, you may derive natural, mor- 
 al, and religious observations to entertain your minds, 
 as well as rules of conduct in the affairs relating to this 
 life, and that which is to come. 
 
 II. Tn order to furnish the mind with a rich variety 
 of ideas, the laudable curiosity of j'oung people 
 should be indulged and gratified rather than discour- 
 aged. It is a very hopeful sign in young persons, to^ 
 see them curious in observing, and inquisitive in search- 
 ing into the greatest part of things that occur; nor 
 should such an inquiring temper be frowned into silence, 
 nor be rigorously restrainetl; but should rather be satis- 
 fied by proper answers given to all those queries. 
 
 For tnis reason also, where time and fortune allow it, 
 young people should be led into company at proper 
 seasons, should be carried abroad to see the fields and 
 the woods, and the rivers, the buildings, towns, and 
 cities distant from their own dwelling ; they should be 
 entertain*^d with the sight of strange birds, beasts, fishes, 
 insects, vegetables, and productions both of nature and 
 art of every kind, Avhether they are the products of 
 their own or foreign nations ; and in due time, where 
 Providence gives opportunity, they may travel under 
 a wise inspector or tutor to different parts of the world 
 for the same end, that they may bring home treasures 
 of useful knowledge. 
 
 in. Among all these observations, write down what is 
 most remarkable and uncommon ; reserve these re- 
 marks in store for proper occasions, and at proper sea- 
 sons take a review of them. Such a practice will give 
 you a habit of useful thinking; this will secure the 
 workings of your soul from running to waste, and by 
 thismej^na even youjr looser moments will turn to hap- 
 
OF THE MIND. 49 
 
 py account both here and hereafter. And whatever 
 useful observations hare been made, let them be at 
 least somejpart of the subject of your conversation a- 
 mong your friends at next meeting. 
 
 Let the circumstances or situations in life be what or 
 where they will, a man should never neglect this im- 
 provement which may be derived from observation. 
 Let him travel into the East or West Indies, and fulfil 
 the duties of the military or the mercantile life there; let 
 him rove through the earth or the seas for his own hu- 
 mour as a traveller, or pursue his diversions in what 
 part of the world he pleases as a gentleman ; let pros- 
 perous or adverse fortune call him to the most distant 
 parts of the globe; still let him carry on his knowledge 
 and the improvement of his soul bv wise obser- 
 vations. In due time, by this means, he may render 
 himself some way useful to the societies of mankind. 
 
 Theobaldi>'o, in his younger years, visited the for- 
 ests of Norway on the account of trade and timber, 
 and besides his proper observations of the growth of 
 trees on those northern mountains, he learned there was 
 a sort of people called Fins, in those confines which 
 border upon Sweden, whose habitation is in the woods ; 
 and he lived afterwards to give a good account of them, 
 and some of their customs, to the Royal Society, for 
 the improvement of natural knowledge. Pcteoli 
 was taken captive into Turkey in his youth, and travel- 
 led with his master in their holy pilgrimage to Mecca, 
 whereby he became more intelligent m the forms, cere- 
 monies, and fooleries of the Mahometan worship, than 
 perhaps, ever any Briton knew before; and by his 
 manuscripts we are more acquainted in this last centu- 
 ry with the Turkish sacreds than any one had ever in- 
 formed us. 
 
 IV. Let us keep our minds as free as possible from 
 passions and prejudices, for these will give a wrong 
 turn to our observations both on persons and things. 
 The eyes of a man in the jaundice make yellow ob- 
 servations on every thing ; and the soul tinctured with 
 any passion or prejudice, diffuses a false colour over 
 the real appearances of things, and disguises many of 
 the common occurrences of life; it never beholds 
 things in a true light, nor suffers them to appear as 
 they are. Whensoever, therefore, you would make 
 proper observations, let self, with all its influences, stand 
 
U IMPROVEMENT 
 
 aside as far as possible ; abstract your own interest and 
 your own concern from them, and bid all friendships 
 and enmities stand aloofand keep out ofthe way,inthe 
 observations that you make relating to persons and 
 things. ^ 
 
 If this rule were well obeyed, we should be much 
 better guarded against those common pieces of miscon- 
 duct in the observations of men, viz. the false judgments 
 of pride and envy. How ready is envy to mingle with 
 the notices which we take of other persons ? How 
 y often is mankind prone to put an ill sense upon the 
 '^ actions of their neighbours, to take a survey of them 
 in an evil position and in an unhappy light ? And by 
 this means Ave form a worse opinion of our neighbours 
 than they deserve ; while at the same time pride and 
 self flattery tempt us to make unjust observations on 
 ourselves m our own favour. In all the favourable 
 judgments we pass concerning ourselves, we should 
 allow a Ihtle abatement on this account. 
 
 V. In making your observations on persons, take 
 care of indulging that busy curiosity which is ever in- 
 quiring into private and domestic affairs, with an end- 
 less itch of learning the secret history of families. It 
 is but seldom that such a prying curiosity attains any 
 valuable ends : it often begets suspicions, jealousies, 
 and disturbances in households, and it is a frequent 
 temptation to persons to defame their neighbours. 
 Some persons cannot help telling what they know; 
 a busy body is most liable to become a tattler upon 
 every occasion. 
 
 VI. Let your observations, even of persons and their 
 conduct, be chiefly designed in order to lead you to a 
 better acquaintance with things, particularly with hu- 
 man nature ; — and to inform you what to imitate and 
 what to avoid, rather than to furnish out matter for the 
 evil passions of the mind, or the impertinencies of dis- 
 course, and reproaches of the tongue. 
 
 VII. Though it may be proper sometimes to make 
 your observations concerning persons as well as things, 
 the subject of your discourse in learned or useful con- 
 versation ; yet what remarks you make on particular 
 persons, especially to their disadvantage, should for 
 the most part lie hid in your own breast, till some just 
 and apparent occasion, some necessary call t>f Provi- 
 dence, leads yQU to speak to them. 
 
UF THE iVllISD. 45 
 
 If the character or conduct which you observe be 
 greatly culpable, it should so much the less be published. 
 You may treasure up such remarks of the follies, in- 
 decencies, or vices of your neighbours, as may be a 
 constant guard against your practice of the same, 
 without exposing the reputation of your neighbour on 
 that account. It is a good old rule, that our conver- 
 sation sbould rather be laid out on things than on per- 
 sons ; and this rule should generally be observed, un- 
 less names be concealed, wheresoever the faults or fol- 
 lies of mankind are our present them«. 
 
 Our late Archbishop Tillotson has written a smafl, 
 btjt excellent discourse on evil speaking, wherein he 
 admirably explains, limits, and applies that general 
 apostolic precept. Speak evil of no man. Titus hi. 2. 
 
 VHI. Be not too hasty to erect general theories from 
 a few particular observations, appearances, or experi- 
 jnents. This is what the logicians call a false induction. 
 When general observations are drawn from so many 
 particulars as to become certain and indubitable, these 
 <irejewels of knowledge, comprehending great treasure 
 in a little room, but they are tnerefore to be made witli 
 the greater care'and caution,lest errors become large and 
 diffusive, if we should mistake in these general notions. 
 
 A hasty determinjation of some universal principles, 
 without a due survey of all the particular cases which 
 maybe included in them, is the way to lay a trap for 
 our own understandings in their pursuit of any s^ect, 
 and we shall often be taken captives into mistakfe and 
 falsehood. Niveo in his youth observed, that on three 
 Christmas days together there fell a good quantity of 
 snow, and now hath writ it down in his Almanack as a 
 part of his wise remarks on the weather, that it will 
 always snow at Christmas. Euron, a young lad, took 
 notice ten times, that there was a sharp frost when the 
 wind was in the north east, therefore in the middle of 
 last July, he almost expected it should freeze, because 
 the weathercocks showed him a north east wind ; and 
 he was still more disappointed when he found it a very 
 sultry season. It is the same hasty judgment that hath 
 thrown scandal on a whole nation for the sake of some 
 culpable characters belonging to several particular na- 
 tives of that country ; whereas all the Frenchmen are 
 not gay and airy ; all the Italians arenot jealous and re- 
 vengeful ; nor are all the English overrun with the spleen . 
 
4% IMPROVEMENI^ 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of Books and Reading. 
 
 1. J. HE world is full of books, but there are multi-, 
 tudes which are so ill written, they were never worth 
 anj" man's reading ; and there are thousands more 
 which may be good in their kind, yet are worth nothing 
 when the month or year or occasion is past for which they 
 were written. Others may be valuable in themselves, 
 for some special purpose, or in some peculiar science, 
 but are not fit to be perused by any but those who are 
 engaged in that particular science or business. To what 
 use is it for a divine, or physician, or^a tradesman, to 
 read Over the huge volumes of reports of judged cases 
 in the law ? Or for a lawyer to learn Hebrew and read 
 the Rabbins ? It is of vast advantage for improvement 
 of knowledge and saving time, for a young man to 
 have the most proper books for his reading recom- 
 mended by a judicious friend. 
 
 II. Books of importance of any kind, and especially 
 complete treatises on any subject, should be first read 
 in a more general and cursory manner, to learn a little 
 what the treatise promises, and what you may ex- 
 pect from the writer's manner and skill. And for this 
 end I would advise always that the preface be read and 
 a survey taken of the table of contents, if there be one, 
 before the first survey of the book. By this means 
 you will not only be better fitted to give the book the 
 first reading, but j'ou will be much assisted in your 
 second perusal of it, which should be done with great- 
 er attention and deliberation, and you will learn with 
 more ease and readiness what the author pretends to 
 teach. In your reading, mark what is new or unknown 
 to you before, and review those chapters, pages, or 
 paragraphs. Unless a reader has an uncommon and 
 most retentive memory, I may venture to affirm, that 
 there is scarce any book or chapter worth reading once, 
 that is not worthy of a second perusal. At least to 
 take a careful review of all the lines or paragraphs 
 w^hich you marked, and make a recollection of the 
 sections which you thought truly valuable. 
 
 There is another reason also why I would choose to 
 take a superficial and cursory survey of a book, before 
 
OF THE MIND. 41 
 
 i sit down to read it, and dwell upon it with studious 
 attention ; and that is, there may he several difficulties 
 in it, which we cannot easily understand and conquer 
 at the first reading, for want of a fuller comprehension 
 of the author's whole scheme. And therefore, in such 
 treatises, we should not stay till we master every diffi- 
 culty at the first perusal ; for perhaps many of these 
 would appear to be solved when we have proceeded 
 further in that book, or would vanish of themselves 
 upon a second reading. 
 
 What we cannot reach and penetrate at first, may 
 be noted down as matter of after consideration and in- 
 quiry, if the pages that follow do not happen to strike 
 a complete light on those which went before. 
 
 III. If three or four persons agree to read the same 
 book, and each bring his own remarks upon it at some 
 set hours appointed for conversation, and they commu- 
 nicate mutually their sentiments on the subject, and 
 debate about it in a friendly manner, this practice will 
 render the reading any author more abundantly bene- 
 ficial to every one of tiiem. 
 
 IV. If several persons engaged in the same study, 
 take into their hands distinct treatises on one subject, 
 and appoint a season of communication once a week, 
 they may inform each other in a brief manner concern- 
 ing the sense, sentiments, and method of those several 
 authors, and thereby promote each other's improve- 
 ment, either by recommending the perusal of the 
 same book to their companions, or perhaps hj satisfy- 
 ing their inquiries concerning it by conversation, with- 
 out every one's perusing it. 
 
 V. Remember that your business in reading or in 
 conversation, especially on subjects of natural, moral, 
 or divine science, is not merely to know the opinion of 
 the author or speaker, for this is the mere knowledge 
 of history ; but ;^our chief business is to consider 
 whether their opinions are right or no, and to improve 
 jrour own solid knowledge on that subject by medita- 
 tion on the themes of their writings or discourse. 
 Deal freely with every author you read, and yield up 
 your assent only to evidence and just reasoning on the 
 subject. 
 
 Here I would be understood to speak only of human 
 authors, and not of the sacred and inspired writings. 
 
4? IMPROVEMENT 
 
 In these our business is only to find out the true sense, 
 and understand the true meaning of the paragraph and' 
 page, and our assent then is bound to follow when we 
 are before satisfied that the writing is divine. Yet I 
 might add also that even this is sufficient evidence to 
 demand our assent. 
 
 But in the composures of men remember you are a 
 man as well as they ; and it is not their reason but your |^ 
 own that is given to guide you Avhen you arrive at 
 years of discretion, of manly age and judgment. 
 
 VI. Let this therefore be your practice, especially 
 after you have ^one through one course of any science 
 in your academical studies ; if a writer on that subject 
 maintains the same sentiments as you do, yet if" he 
 does not explain his ideas or prove the positions well, 
 mark the faults or defects, and endeavour to do it bet- 
 ter, either in the margin of your book, or rather in 
 some papers of your own, or at least let it be done in 
 your private meditations. — As for instance : 
 
 Where the author is obscure, enlighten him; where 
 he is imperfect, supply his deficiencies ; where he is too 
 brief and concise, amplify a little, and set his notions 
 in a fairer view" ; where he is redundant, mark those 
 paragraphs to be retrenched ; when he trifles and grows 
 impertinent, abandon those passages or pages ; where 
 lie argues, observe whether his reasons be conclusive ; 
 if the conclusion be true, and yet the argument weak, 
 endeavour to confirm it by better proofs ; where he de- 
 rives or infers any propositions darkly or doubtfully, 
 make the justice of the inference appear, and add further 
 inferences or corollaries, if such occur to your mind ; 
 ivhere you suppose he is in a mistake, propose your 
 objections and correct his sentiments ; what he writes 
 so well as to approve itself to your judgment, both as 
 just and useful, treasure it up in your memory, and 
 count it a part of your intellectual gains. 
 
 Note. — Many of these same directions which I have 
 now given may be practised with regard to conversation, 
 as well as reading, in order to render it useful in the 
 most extensive and lasting manner. 
 
 Vil. Other things also of the like nature, may be 
 usefully practised with regard to the authors which you 
 read, viz. If the method of a book be irregular, re- 
 duce it into form by a little ^alysis of your own, or 
 
OF THE MIND. 4» 
 
 by hints in the margin ; if those things are heaped to- 
 gether which should be separated, you may wisely 
 distinguish and divide them ; if several things relating 
 to the same subject are scattered up and down sepa- 
 rately through the treatise, you may bring them all to 
 one view by references ; or if the matter of a book be 
 really valuable and deserving, you may throw it into a 
 better method, reduce it to a more logical scheme, or 
 abridge it into a lesser form ; all these practices will 
 iiave a tendency to advance your skill both in logic 
 and method, to improve your judgment in_ general, 
 and to give you a fuller survey of that subject in parLic- 
 iilar. When you have finished the treatise with pll 
 your observations upon it, recollect and determine 
 what real improvements you Have made by reading 
 that author. 
 
 VIII. If a book has no index to it, or good table of 
 contents, it is very useful to make one as you are read- 
 ing it ; not with that exactness as to include the 
 sense of every page and paragraph, which should be 
 done if you designed to print it; but it is sufficient in 
 your index to take notice only of those parts of the 
 book which are new to you, or which you think well 
 Avritten, and worthy of your remembr.ince or review. 
 
 Shall I be so free as to assure you my younger friends, 
 from my own experience, that these methods of read- 
 ing will cost some pains in the first years of your study, 
 and especially in the first authors which you peruse in 
 any science, or on any particular subject; but the profit 
 will richly compensate the pains. And in the following 
 years of life, after you have read a few valuable books 
 on any special subject in this manner, it will be very 
 easy to read others of the same kind, because you will 
 not usually find very much new matter in them wrhick 
 you have not already examined. 
 
 IX. If the writer be remarkable for any peculiar ex- 
 cellencies or defects in his style or manner of writing, 
 makejust observations upon this also ; and whatsoever 
 ornaments you find there, or whatsoever blemishes oc- 
 cur in the language or manner of the writer, you may 
 makejust remarks upon them. And remember, that 
 one book read over in this mannei-, with all this labori- 
 > "s meditation, will tend more to eurich yourtmder- 
 
50 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 standing than the skimming over the surface of twenty 
 authors. 
 
 X. By perusing books in the manner I have descri- 
 bed, you will make all j^our reading subservient, not only 
 to the enlargement of your treasures of knowledge, 
 but also to the improvement of your reasoning powers. 
 
 There are many who read with constancy and dili- 
 gence, and yet make no advances in true knowled^^e 
 by it. They are delighted with the notions which 
 they read or hear, as they would be with stories that 
 ai-e told, but they do not weigh them in their minds as 
 in a just balance, in order to determine their truth or 
 falsehood ; they make no observations upon them, or 
 inferences from them. Perhaps their eye slides over 
 the pages, or the words slide over their ears, and vanish! 
 like a rhapsody of evening tales, or the shadoAvs of a 
 cloud flying over a green field in a summer's day. 
 
 Or if they review them sufficiently, to fix them in 
 their remembrance, it is merely with the design to tell 
 the tale over again, and show what men of learning 
 they are. Thus they dream out their days in a course 
 of reading vvithout real advantage. As a man may be 
 eating all day, and for want of digestion is never nour- 
 ished; so these endless readers may cram themselves 
 in vain with intellectual food, and without real improve- 
 ment of their minds, for want of digesting it by proper 
 reflections. 
 
 XI. Be diligent therefore in observing these direc- 
 tions : Enter into the sense and arguments of the au- 
 thors j'^ou read, examine all their proofs, and then judge 
 of the truth or falsehood of their opinions ; and there- 
 by you shall not only gain a rich increase of your un- 
 derstanding, by those truths which the author teaches, 
 when you see them well supported, but you shall ac- 
 <}uire also by degrees, an habit of judging justly, and 
 of reasoning well, in imitation of the good writer 
 whose works you peruse. 
 
 This is laborious indeed, and the mind is backnvard 
 to undergo the fatigue of weighing every argument aiad 
 tracing every thing to its original. It is much less la- 
 bour to take all things upon trust; believing is much 
 
 easier than arguing. But when Studentio had once per- 
 suaded his mind to tie itself down ta this method AvhicU 
 
OF THE MIND. 51 
 
 I have prescribed, he sensibly gained an admirable fa- 
 cility to read, and judge of what be read, by his daily 
 practice of it, and the man made lar^e advances in the 
 pursuit of truth ; while Plumbinus and Plumeo made 
 less progress in knowledge, though they had read over 
 more folios. Plumeo skimmed over the pages like a 
 swallow over the flowery meads in May. Plumbinus 
 read every line and syllable, but did not give himself 
 the trouble of thinking and judging about them. They 
 both could boast in company of their great reading, for 
 they knew more titles and pages than Student!^, but 
 were far less acquainted with science. 
 
 I confess those whose reading is designed only to fit 
 them for much talk and little knowledge, may content 
 themselves to run over their authors in such a sudden 
 and trifling way ; they may devour libraries in this 
 manner, yet be poor reasoners at last,and have no solid 
 wisdom or true learning. The traveller who walks on 
 fair and softly in a course that points right, and exam- 
 ines every turning before he ventures . upon it ; will 
 come sooner and safer to his journey's end, than he 
 who runs through every lane he meets, though he gal- 
 lops full speed all the day. The man of much reading 
 and a large retentive memory, but without meditation, 
 may become in the sense of the world a knowing man ;. 
 and if he converses much with the ancients, he may 
 attain the.fame of learning too ; but he spends his days 
 afar off" from wisdom and true judgment, and possess- 
 es very little of the substantial riches of the mind. 
 
 XII. Never apply yourselvesrto read any human au- 
 thor with a determination beforehand either for or 
 against him, or with a settled resolution to believe or dis- 
 believe, to confirm or to oppose whatsoever he saith ; 
 but always read with a design to lay your mind open 
 to truth, and to embrace it wheresoever you find it, as 
 well as to reject every falsehood, though it appear un- 
 der ever so fair a disguise. How unhappy are those 
 men who seldom take an author into their hands but 
 they have determined before they begin wii ether they 
 will like or dislike him ! They have got some notion of 
 his name, his character, his party, or his principles, by gen- 
 eral conversation, or perhaps by some slight view of a 
 few pages; andhaving all their own opinionsadjusted be- 
 forehand, they read all that he writes with a preposses* 
 
5£ IMPROVEMENT 
 
 fiion either for or against liim. Unhappy those who hunt 
 and purvey for a party, and scrape togetiier out of 
 every author, all those thin^?, and those only, which 
 favour their own tenets, while they despise and neglect 
 all the rest. 
 
 XIII. Yet tiike this caution. I would not be under- 
 stood here as though I persuaded a person to live with- 
 out any settled principles at all, by which to judge of 
 men, and books, and things ; or tliat I would keep a 
 man always doubting about his foundations. The chief 
 things tliat I design in this advice are these three : 
 
 1. That after our most necessary and important 
 principles of science, prudence, and religion, are set- 
 tled upon good grounds, with regard to our present 
 *'onduct and our future hopes, we should read witha^iust 
 freedom of thought all those books which treat of such 
 subjects as may admit of doubt and reasonable dis- 
 pute. Nor should any of our opinions be so resolved 
 upon, especially in younger years, as never to hear or 
 bear an opposition to them. 
 
 2. When we peruse those authors who defend our 
 own settled sentiments, we should not take all their ar- 
 guings for just and solid; but we should make a wise 
 distinction between the corn and the chaff,between solid 
 reasoning and the mere superficial colours of it ; nor 
 should we readily swallow down all their lesser opin- 
 ions, because we agree with them in the greater. 
 
 3. That when we read those authors which oppose 
 our most certain and established principles, we should 
 be ready to reccrv^e any information from them in other 
 points, and not abandon at once every thing they say, 
 though w^e are well fixed in our opposition to their 
 main point of arguing. 
 
 Fas est, ct ab hosle doceri Vme. 
 
 Seize upon truth where'er 'tis found, 
 
 Amongst your friends, amongst yourfae% 
 
 On Chrislian or on Healhen ground ; 
 The flowers divhie where'er it grows : 
 Neglect the prickles, and assume the rose. 
 
 XIV. What I have said hitherto on this subject re- 
 lating to books and reading, must be chiefly understood 
 of that sort of books, and those hours of our reading 
 
OF THE MIND. 5& 
 
 and study, whereby we design to improve the intellect- 
 ual powers of the mind with natural, moral, or divine 
 knowledge. As for those treatises which are written 
 to direct or to enforce and persuade our practice, there 
 is one thing further necessary ; and that is, that when 
 Our consciences are convinced that these rules of pru- 
 dence or duty belong to us, and require our conformity 
 to them, we should then call ourselves to account, and 
 inquire seriously whether we have put them in prac- 
 tice or no ; we should dwell upon the arguments, and 
 impress the motives and methods of persuasion upon 
 our own hearts, till we feel the force and power of them 
 inclining us to the practice of the things which are 
 there recommended. 
 
 If folly or vice be represented in its open colours, or 
 its secret disguises, let us search our hearts, and review 
 our lives, and inquire how far we are criminal : Nor 
 should we ever think we have done with the treatise 
 till we feel ourselves in sorrow for our past misconduct, 
 and aspiring after a victory over those vices, or till we 
 find a cure of those follies begun to be wrought upon 
 our souls. 
 
 In all our studies and pursuits of knowledge, let us 
 remember that virtue and vice, sin and holiness, and 
 the confirmation of our hearta and lives to the duties 
 of true religion and morality, are things of far more 
 consequence than all the furniture of aur understanding, 
 and the richest treasures of mere speculative know- 
 ledge ; and that because they have a more immediate 
 and effectual influence upon our eternal felicity or eter- 
 nal sorrow. 
 
 XV. There is yet another sort of books, of which it 
 improper 1 should say something while I am treating 
 on this subject ; and these are, history, poesy, travels, 
 books of diversion or amusement; among which we 
 may reckon also, little common pamphlets, newspapers, 
 or such like ; for many of these I confess once read- 
 ing may be sufiicient, where there is a tolerable good 
 memory. 
 
 Or when several persons are in company, and one 
 
 reads to the rest such sort of writings, once hearing may 
 
 be sufficient, provided that every one be so attentive, 
 
 and so free, as to make their occasional remarks on 
 
 E 2 
 
;74 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 such lines or sentences, such periods or paraj^raphs, as 
 in their opinion deserve it. Now all those paragraphs 
 or sentiments deserve a remark, Avhich are new and 
 uncommon, are noble and excellent for the matter of 
 them, are sticjng and convincing for the argument con- 
 tained in thenn, are Beautiful and elegant for the lan- 
 guage or the manner, or any way worthy of a second 
 ehearsal ; and at the'requcst of any of the company, 
 let those paragraphs be read over again. 
 
 Such parts also of these writings as may happen to 
 be remarkably stupid and silly, false or mistaken, should 
 become subjects of an occasional criticism, made by 
 some of the comftany ; and this may give occasion to 
 the repetition of them for the confirmation of the 
 ceniure, for amusement or diversion. 
 
 Still let it be remembered, that where the historical 
 narration is of considerable moment, where the poesy, 
 oratory, fee. shines with some degree of perfection 
 and glory, a single reading is neither sufficient to satis- 
 fy a mind that has a true taste for this sort of writings, 
 nor can we make the fullest and best improvement of 
 them without proper reviews, and that in our retire- 
 ment as Avell as in company. Who is there that has 
 any gout for polite writings, that would be sufficiently 
 satisfied with hearing the beautiful pages of Steel or 
 Addison, the admiraf)le description of Virgil or Mil- 
 ton, or some of the finest poems of Pope, Young, or 
 Dryden, once read over to them, and then lay them by 
 for ever ? 
 
 XVI. Among these writings of the latter kind, we 
 may justly reckon short miscellaneous essays on all 
 manner of subjects; such as the Occasional Papers, 
 the Tatlers, the Spectators, and some other books that 
 have been compiled eut of the weekly and daily products 
 of the press, wherein are contained a great number of 
 bright thoughts, ingenious remarks, and admirable 
 observations, which have had a considerable share in 
 furnishing the present age with knowledge and polite- 
 ness. 
 
 I wish every paper among these writings could have 
 been recommended both as innocent and useful. I 
 ■wish every unseemly idea, and wanton expression had 
 been banished from amongst them, and every trifling 
 page had been excluded from the company of the rest 
 
OF THE MIND. 55 
 
 when they had been bound up in vohjmes. But it is not 
 to be expected, in so imperfect a state, that every page 
 or peice of such mixed public papers should be entirely 
 blameless and laudable. Yet m the main it must be 
 confessed, there is so much virtue, prudence, ingenuity, 
 and goodness in them, especially in eight volumes of 
 Spectators, there is such a reverence of things^ sacred, 
 so many valuable remarks for our conduct in life, that 
 they are not improper to lie in parlours, or summer 
 houses, or places of usual residence, to entertain our 
 thoughts in any moment of leisure, or vacjant hours 
 that occur. There is such a discovery of the follies, 
 iniquities, and fashionable vices of mankind contained 
 in them, that we may learn much of the humours and 
 madnesses of the age, and the public world, in our own 
 solitary retirement, without the danger of frequenting 
 vicious company, or receiving the mortal infection. 
 
 XVII. Among other books %vhich are proper and 
 requisite, in order to improve our knowledge in general, 
 iOr our acquaintance with any particular science, it is 
 necessary that we should be furnished with Vocabula- 
 ries and Dictionaries of several sorts, viz. of cx)mmon 
 words, idioms, and phrases, in order to explain their 
 sense; of technical'words orthe terms of art, to show 
 their use in arts and sciences ; of names of men, coun- 
 tries, towns, rivers, fcc. which are called historical 
 and geographical dictionaries, &c. These are to be con- 
 sulted and used upon every occasion ; and never let an 
 unknown word pass in your reading, without seeking 
 for its sense and meanmg in some of these writers. 
 
 If such books ar€ not at hand, you must supply the 
 want of them, as well as you can, by consulting such as 
 can inform you ; and it is useful to note down the mat- 
 ters of doubt and inquiry in some pocket book, and take 
 the first opportunity to get them resolved, either by 
 persons or books, when we meet with them. 
 
 XVIII. Be not satisfied with a mere knowledge of 
 the best authors that treat of any subject, instead of 
 acquainting yourselves thoroughly with the subject 
 itself. There is many a young student that is fond of 
 .enlarging his knowledge of books, and he contents 
 himself with the notice he has of their title page, which 
 is the attainment of a bookseller rather than a scholar. 
 Such persons are under a great temptation to practice 
 
&6 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 these two follies. (1.) To heap up a great num'ber of 
 books, at greater expense than most of them can bear, 
 and to furnish their libraries infinitely better than their 
 understandings. And (2.)when they have gotten such 
 rich treasures of knowledge upon their shelves, they 
 imagine themselves men of learning, and take a pride 
 in taking of the names of famous authors, and the sub- 
 jects of which they treat, without any real improvement 
 of their own minds in true science or wisdom. At best 
 their learning reaches no farther than the indexes and 
 tables of contents, while they know not how to judge 
 or reason concerning the matters contained in those 
 authors. 
 
 And indeed how many volumes of learning soever a 
 man possesses, he is still deplorably poor in his under- 
 standing, till he has made those several parts of learn- 
 ing his own property, by -reading and reasoning, by 
 judging for himself, and remembering what he has 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Judgment of Books^ 
 
 I. If we would form a judgment of a book which 
 we have not seen before, the first thing that offers is 
 the title page, and we may sometimes guess a little at 
 the import and design of a book thereby ; though it 
 must be confessed that titles are often deceitful, and 
 promise more than the book performs. The author's 
 name, if it be known in the world, may help us to con- 
 jecture at the performance a little more, and lead us to 
 guess in what manner it is done. A perusal of the 
 preface or introduction (which I before recommended) 
 may further assist our judgment ; and if there be an 
 index of the contents, it will give us still some advan- 
 cing light. 
 
 If we have not leisure or inclinatioq to read over the 
 book itself regularly, then by the titles of chapters we 
 may be directed to peruse several particular chapters 
 or sections, and observe whether there be any thing val- 
 uable or important in| them. We shall find theieby, 
 whether the author explains his ideas clearly, whether 
 he reasons strongly, whether he raethodizps w^ell, 
 
OP THE MIND. 57 
 
 ivUether his thoughts and sense be manly, and his man- 
 ner polite ; or, on the other hand, whether he be obscure, 
 weak, trifling and confused ; or Anally, whether the mat- 
 ter may not be solid and substantial, though the style 
 and manner be rude and disagreeable. 
 
 II. By having mn through several chapters and sec- 
 tions in this manner, we may generally judge whether 
 the treatise be worth a complete perusal or no. But 
 if by such an occasional survey of some chapters, our 
 expectation be utterly discouraged, w^e may well lay 
 aside that book ; for there is great probability he can 
 be but an indifferent writer on that subject, if he affords 
 but one prize to diverse blanks, and it ma}'^ be some 
 downright blots too. The piece can hardly be valuable, 
 if, in seven or eight chapters which we peruse, there 
 be but little truth, evidence, force of reasoning, beauty, 
 and ingenuity of thought, fee. mingled with much er- 
 ror, ignorance, impertinence, dulness, mean and com- 
 mon thoughts, inaccuracy, sophistry, railing, fcc. Life 
 is too short, and time is too precious, to read every 
 new book quite over, in order to find that it is not worth 
 reading. 
 
 III. There are some general mistakes which persons 
 are frequently guilty of in passing a judgment on the 
 books which they read. 
 
 One is this ; when a treatise is written but tolerably 
 well, we are ready to pass a favourable judgment of it, 
 and sometimes to exalt its character far beyond its 
 merit, if it agree with our own principles, and support 
 the opinions of our party. On the other hand, if the 
 author be of different sentiments, and espouse contrary 
 principlciS, we can find neither wit nor reason, good 
 sense or good language in it. Whereas, alas ! if our 
 opinions of things were certain and infallible truth, yet 
 a silly author may draw his pen in the defence of them, 
 and he may attack even gross errors with feeble and 
 ridiculous arguments. Truth in this world is not al- 
 ways attended and supported by the wisest and safest 
 methods ; and error, though it never can be maintained 
 by just reasoning, yet maybe artfully covered and de- 
 fended; an ingenious writer may put excellent colours 
 upon his own mistakes. Some Socinians who deny the 
 atonement of Christ, have written well, and with much 
 appearance of argument for their own unscriptural sen- 
 
58 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 timents, and some writers for the Trinity and satisfnc- 
 tion of Christ, have exposied themselves and the sacred 
 doctrine, by their feeble and foolish manner of hand- 
 liisg it. Books are never t^ be judged of merely by 
 their subject, or the opinion they represent, but by the 
 justness of their sentiments, the beautj' of their man- 
 ner, the force of their expression ; or the strength of 
 reason, and the ^veight of just and proper argument 
 which appears in them. 
 
 But this folly and weakness of trifling instead of ar";u- 
 ing does not happen to fall only to the share of Christian 
 writers ; there are some who liave taken the pen in hand 
 to support the deistical or antichristian scheme of our 
 days, who make big pretences to reason upon all occa- 
 sions, but seem to nave left it all behind them when 
 they are jesting with the Bible, and grinning at the 
 books which we call sacred. Some of these perform- 
 ances would -scarce have been thought tolerable if they 
 had not ;issaulted the Christian faith, though they are 
 now grown up to a place among the admired pens. I 
 much question whether several of the rhapsodies called 
 the Characteristics, would ever have survived the first 
 edition, if thoy had not discovered so strong a tincture 
 of infidelity, and now and then cast out a profane sneer 
 at our holy religion, i have sometimes indeed been ready 
 to wonder how a book in the main so loosely written, 
 should ever obtain so many readers among men of sense. 
 Surely they must be conscious in the perusal, that 
 sometimes a patrician may v/rite as idle as a man of 
 plebian rank, and trifle as much as an old schoolman, 
 though it is in another form. I am forced to say, there 
 are few books that ever I read, which made any pre- 
 tences to a g/eat genius, from which 1 derived so little 
 valuable knowledge as from these treatises. There is 
 indeed amongst them a Mvely pertness, a parade of 
 literature, and much of v.hat son.e folks nowadays call 
 politeness, but it is hard that we should be bound tp 
 admire all the reveriei of this author, under the penal- 
 ty of being unfashionable. 
 
 IV. Another mi^^take which some persons fall into is 
 this : When they read a freatise on a subject with which 
 they have but little acquaintance, they find almost every 
 thing new and strange to them, their understandings are 
 greatly entertained and improved by the occurence of 
 
OF THE MIND. 59 
 
 many things which were unknown to them before, 
 they admire the treatise, and commend the author at 
 once ; whereas if they had b\it attained a good degree 
 ofskiliinthat science, perhaps they would find that 
 tlie author had written very poorly, that neither his 
 sense or his method was just and proper, and that he 
 had nothing in him hut what was very common or 
 trivial in his discourses on that subject. 
 
 Hence it comes to pass that Cario and Faber, who 
 were both bred up to labour, and unacquainted with 
 the sciences, shall admire one of the weekly papers, or 
 a little pamphlet, that talks pertly on some critical or 
 learned theme, because the matter is all strange and 
 new to them, and they join to extol the writer to the 
 skies ; and for the same reason a young academic shall 
 dwell upon a Journal or an Observator that treats of 
 trade and politics in a dictatorial style, and shall be \/ 
 lavish in the praise of the author ; while at the samd 
 time persons well skilled in those diiTerent subjects 
 hear the impertinent tattle with a just contempt; for 
 they know hoAv weak and awkward many of those lit- 
 tle diminutive discourses are ; and that those very 
 papers of science, politics or trade, w hich were so 
 much admired by the ignorant, are perhaps but very 
 mean ji^formances ; though it must be also confessed 
 there are some excellent essays in those papers, and 
 that upon science as well as trade. 
 
 V. But there is a danger of mistake in our judgment 
 of books on the other hand also ; for when we have 
 made ourselves masters of any particular theme of 
 knowledge, and surveyed it long on all sides, there is 
 perhaps scarce any writer on that subject who much 
 c'utertains and pleases us afterwards, because we find 
 little or nothing new in him; and yet in a true judg- 
 ment perhaps his sentiments are most proper and just, 
 his explication clear, and his reasonings strong, and all 
 the parts of the discourse are well connected and set 
 in a happy light ; but we knew most of those thin.^s 
 before, and therefore they strike us not, and we are m 
 danger of discommending them. 
 
 Thus the learned and the unlearned have their seve- 
 ral distinct dangers and prejudices ready to attend them 
 in tiicir judgment of the writings of men. These 
 
m IMPROVEMENT 
 
 which I have mentioned are a specimen of them, and 
 indeed but a mere specimen ; for the prejudices that 
 warp our judgment aside iVom trutii are ahnost infinite 
 and endless. 
 
 YI. Yet 1 cannot forbear to point out two or three 
 more of these follies, that I may attempt something to- 
 wards the correction of them, or at least to guard 
 others against them. 
 
 There are some persons of a forward and lively tem- 
 per, and who are fond to intermeddle with all appear- 
 ances of knowledge, will give their judgment on a book 
 as soon as the title of it is mentioned, for they would 
 not willingly seem ignorant of any thing that others 
 know. And especially if they happen to have any 
 superior character or possessions of this world, they 
 fancy they have a right to talk freely upon every thing 
 that stirs or.appears, though they have no other pretence 
 to this freedom. Divito is worth forty thousand 
 pounds: Pelitulus is a fine young gentleman, who 
 sparkles in all the shining things of dress andequipage: 
 Aulinus is a small attendant on a minister of state, and 
 is at court almost every day. These three happened to 
 mp.et in a visit, where an excellent book of warm and 
 refined devotions lay in the window : What dull stuff 
 is here ? said Divito ; I never read so much nonsense 
 11 one page in my life, nor would I give a shilling for a 
 thousand such treatises. Aulinus, though a courtier, 
 and not used to speak roughly, yet would not allow 
 tliere was a line of good sense in the book, and pro- 
 nounced him a madman that wrote it in his secret re- 
 tirement, and declared him a fool that published it after 
 his death. Politulus had more manners than t.i> differ 
 from men of such rank and character, and therefore he 
 sneered at the devout expressions as he heard theni 
 read, and made the divine treatise a matter of scorn 
 and ridicule ; and yet it was well known that neither 
 this fine gentleman, nor the courtier, nor the man of 
 wealth, had a grain of devotion in them beyond their 
 horses that waited at their door with their gilded chari- 
 ots. But this is the way of the world ; blind men will 
 talk of the beauty of colours, and of the harmony or 
 disproportion of figures in painting ; the deaf will prate 
 of discords in music ; and those who have nothing to 
 do with religion will arraign the best treatise on divine 
 
OF THE MIND. gl 
 
 subjects, though they do not understand the very lan- 
 guage of the scripture, nor the common terms or phra- 
 ses used in Christianity. 
 
 VII. I might here name another; s«rt of judges, 
 who will set themselves up to decide in favour of an 
 author, or will pronounce him a mere blunderer, accor- 
 ding to the company they have kept, and the judgment 
 they have heard passed upon a book by others of their 
 own stamp or size, though they have no knowledge or 
 taste of the subject themselves. These with a fluent 
 and voluble tongue become mere echoes of the prai 
 ses or censures of other men. Sonillus happened 
 to be in the room where the three gentlemen just men- 
 tioned gave out their thoughts so freely upon an ad- 
 mirable book of devotion ; and two days afterwards he 
 met with some friends of his where this book was the 
 subject of conversation and praise. Sonillus wondered 
 at their dulness , and repeated the jests which he had 
 heard cast upon the weakness of the author.. His 
 knowledge of the book and his decision upon it was 
 all from hearsay, for he had never seen it, and if he had 
 read it through he had no manner of right to judge 
 about the things of religion, having no more knovvledge 
 or taste of any thin^; of inward piety, than a hedgehog 
 or a it)ear has of politeness. 
 
 When I had written these remarks, Probus, who 
 knew all the four gentlemen, wished they might have 
 an opportunity to read their own character as it is 
 represented here. Alas ! Probus, I fear it would do 
 them very_ little good, though it may guard others 
 against their folly, for there is never a one of them would 
 find theirown name in these characters if they read them, 
 though all their acquaintance would acknowledge the 
 features immediately, and see the persons almost alive 
 in the picture. 
 
 VIII. There is yet another mischievous principle 
 which prevails among some persons in passing a judg- 
 ment on the writings of others, and that is, when from 
 the secret stimulations of vanity, pride or envy, they 
 despise a valuable book, and throw contempt upon it 
 by wholesale ; and if you ask them the reason of their 
 severe censure, they will tell you perhaps that they 
 have found a mistake or two in it, or there are a few 
 sentiments or expressions not suited to their tooth ai?d 
 
 F 
 
62 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 humour. Bavius cries down an admirable treatise of. 
 philosophy, and says there is Atheism in it, because 
 there are a few sentences that seem to suppose brutes 
 to be mere machines. Under the same influence, Mo- 
 mus will not allow Paradise Lost to be a good poenij 
 because lie had read some flat and heavy lines in it, and 
 he thought Milton had too much honour done him. It 
 is a paltry humour that inclines a man to rail at any 
 human performance because it is notabsolutelyperfect. 
 Horace would give us a better example. 
 
 Sunt delida quihus nos ignovisse relimus^, 
 
 Nam neque chorda sonum reddit quam vult manus et mens, 
 
 JVec semper feriet quodcunque minabitur arcus : 
 
 Atque ubiplura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis 
 
 Offendar inaculis, quas aut incuriafudit, 
 
 Aut humana p arum cavil naiur a Hor. de. Art Poet. 
 
 THUS ENGLISHED. 
 
 Be not too rigidly censorious ; 
 
 A string may jar in the best master's hand, 
 
 And the most skilful archer miss his aim ; 
 
 So in a poem elegantly writ 
 
 1 will not quarrel with a small mistake, 
 
 Such as our nature's frailty may excuse.... i?oscom?won. 
 
 This noble translator of Horace, -whom 1 here cite, 
 has a very honourable opinion of Homer in the main, 
 yet he allows him to be justly censured for some gross- 
 er spots and blemishes in him. 
 
 For who without aversion ever look'd 
 On holy garbage, though by Homer cook'd 
 Whose railing heroes and whose wounded gods 
 Make some suspects he snores as well as nods. 
 
 Such wise and just distinctions ought to be made 
 when we pass a judgment on mortal things, but envy 
 condemns by wholesale. Envy is a cursed plant; 
 some fibres of it are rooted almost in every man's na- 
 ture, and it works in a sly and imperceptible manner, 
 and that even in some persons who in the main are 
 men of wisdom and piety. They know not how to 
 bear the praises that are given to an ingenious author, 
 especially if he be living and of their profession, and 
 therefore they will, if possible, find some blemish in 
 his writings, that they may nibble and bark at it. Ther 
 
OF THE MIND. 03 
 
 will endeavour to diminish the honour of the hest trea- 
 tise that has been written on any subject, ana to render 
 it useless by their censures, rather than suiier their envy 
 to lie asleep, and the little mistakes of that author to 
 pass unexposed. Perhaps the^ will commend the Avork 
 fn general with a pretended air of candour, but pass 
 so many sly and invidious remarks upon it afterwards, 
 as shall effectually destroy all their cold and formal 
 praises.* 
 
 IX. When a person feels g.ny thing of this invidious 
 humour working in him, he may by the following con- 
 siderations attempt the correction of it. Let him think 
 with himself how many are the beauties of such an 
 author whom he censures in comparison of his blem- 
 ishes, and remember that it is a much more honourable 
 and good natured thing to find out peculiar beauties 
 than faults : True and undisguised candour is a much 
 more amiable and divine talent than accusation. Let 
 him reflect again, what an easy matter it is to find a 
 mistake in all.human authors, who are necessarily falli- 
 ble and imperfect. 
 
 I confess where an author sets himself up to ridicule 
 divine writers and things sacred, and yet assumes an 
 air of sovereignty and dictatorship, to exalt and al- 
 most deify all the Pagan ancients, and cast his scorn up- 
 on all the moderns, especially if they do but savour of 
 miracles and the gospel, it is fit the admirers of this 
 author should know, that nature and these ancients are 
 not the same, though some writers always unite them. 
 Reason and nature never made these ancient Heathens 
 their standard, either of art or genius, of writing or he- 
 roism. Sir Richard Steele, in his little essay, called the 
 Christian Hero, has shown our Saviour and St. Paul 
 in a more glorious and transcendant light, than a Virgil 
 or a Homer could do for their Achilles JJlysses,or JEne- 
 as ; and I am persuaded, if Moses and David had not 
 been inspired writers, these very men would have 
 ranked them at least with Herodotus and Horace, if 
 not given them the superior place. 
 
 * I grant when wisdom itself censures a weak and foolish performance, 
 it will pass its severe sentence, and yet with an air;, of candour, if the 
 author has any^thing valuable in him: But envy will sometimes imitate 
 the same favourable airs, in order to make its false cavils appear more 
 just and credible, when it has a mind to snarl at some of the brightest 
 'performances of a human writer. 
 
64 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 But where an author has many beauties consistent with 
 virtue, piety and truth, let not little critics exalt them- 
 selves, and shower down their ill nature upOn him with- 
 out bounds or measure ; but rather stretch their own 
 powers of soul till they write a treatise superior to that 
 which they condemn. This is the noblest and surest 
 manner of suppressing what they censure. 
 
 A little wit, or a little learning, with a good degree 
 of vanity and ill nature, will teach a man to pour out 
 whole pages of remark, and reproach upon one real or 
 fancied mitstake of a great and good author ; and this 
 may be dressed up by the same talents, and made en- 
 tertaining enough to the world, who loves reproach 
 and scandal ; but if the remarker would but once make 
 this attempt, and try to outshine the author by writing 
 a better book on the same subject, he would soon be 
 convinced of his own insufficiency, and perhaps might 
 learn to judge more justly and favourable of the perfor- 
 mance of other men. A cobler or a shoemaker may 
 find some litlle fault with the latchet of a shoe that an 
 Apelles had painted,and perhaps with justice too ; when 
 the whole figure and portraiture in such as none but 
 Apelles could paint. Every poor low genius may cavil 
 at what the richest and the noblest hath performed ; 
 but it is a sign of envy and malice, added to the little- 
 ness and poverty of genius, when such a cavil becomes a 
 sufficient reason to pronounce at once against a bright 
 author, and a whole valuable treatise. 
 
 X. Another, and thata very frequent fault, in passing a 
 judgment upon books is this, thatpersonssp read thesame 
 praises or the same reproaches over a whole treatise, 
 and all the chapters in it, which are due only to some 
 of them. They judge as it were by wholesale, without 
 making a due 'distinction between the several parts or 
 sections of the performance ; and this is ready to lead 
 those who hear them talk into a dangerous mistake. 
 Florusis a great and just admirer of the late Archbishop 
 of Cambray, and mightily commends every thing he 
 has written, and will allow no blemish in him ; whereas 
 the writings of that excellent man are not all of a piece, 
 nor are those very books of his, which have a good 
 number of beautiful and valuable sentiments in them, 
 to be recommended throughout, or all at once with- 
 
OF THE MIND. 65 
 
 out distinction. There is his demonstration of the 
 existence and attributes of God, which has justly gained 
 an universal esteem for bringing down some new and 
 noble thoughts of the wisdom of the creation to the 
 understanding of the unlearned, and they are such as 
 well deserve the perusal of men of science, perhaps as 
 far as the 50th section ; but there are many of the fol- 
 lowing sections, which are very weakly written, and 
 some of them built upon an enthusiastical and mistaken 
 scheme, a kin to the peculiar opinions of father Male- 
 branche ; such as sec. 51, 58. Tiiat we know the finite, 
 only by the ideas of the infinite. Sec. 55, 60. That 
 the superior reason in man is God himself acting in 
 him. Sec. 61, 62. That the idea of unity cannot be 
 taken from creatures, but from God only ; and several 
 of his sections, from 65 to 68, upon the doctrine of lib- 
 erty, seem to be inconsistent. Again, toward the end 
 of his book, he spends more time and pains than are 
 needful, in refuting the Epicurean fancy of atoms 
 moving eternally through infinite changes which might 
 be done effectually in a much shorter and better way. 
 
 So in his Posthumous Essays, and his letters, there 
 are many admirable thoughts in practical and experi- 
 mental rehgion, and very beautiful and divine senti- 
 ments on devotion ; but sometimes in large paragraphs, 
 or in whole chapters together, you find him in the 
 clouds of mystic divinity, and he never descends within 
 the reach of common ideas or common sense. 
 
 But remember this also, that there are but few such 
 authors as this great man, who talks so very weakly 
 sometimes, and yet in other places is so much superior 
 to the greatest part of writers. 
 
 There are other instances of this kind, where men 
 of good sense in the main, set up for judges, but they 
 carry too many of their passions about them, and then, 
 like lovers, they are in rapture at the name of their 
 fair idol; they lavish out all their incense upon that 
 shrine, and cannot bear the thought of admitting a 
 blemish in them. 
 
 You shall hear Altisono not only admire Casimere 
 of Poland in his lyrics, as the utmost purity and per- 
 fection of Latin poesy, but he will allow nothing innim 
 to be extravagant or faulty, and will vindicate every 
 ,line ; nor can 1 much wonder at it when I have heard 
 F 2 
 
66 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 him pronounce Lucan the best of the ancient Latins, 
 and idolize his very weaknesses and mistakes. I will read- 
 ily acknowledge the Odes of Casimere to have more 
 spirit and force, more magnificence and fire in them, 
 and in twenty places arise to more dignity and beauty, 
 than I could ever meet with in any of our modern 
 poets ; yet I am afraid to say, that" Pala sutilise luce" 
 has dignity enough in it for a robe made for the Al- 
 niighty, Lib. 4. Od. 7. 1. 37 ; or that the Man of Virtue 
 in Od. 3. 1. 44. under the ruins of heaven and earth, 
 will bear up the fragments of the fallen worM with a 
 comely wound on his shoulders. 
 
 late ruenii 
 
 Sitbjiciens sua colla ccelo 
 Mundum dccoro vulnerefuldef : 
 Interque ccelifragmina. 
 
 Yet I must needs confess also, that it is hardly possi- 
 ble a man should rise to so exalted and sublime a vein 
 of poesy as Casimere, who is not in danger now and 
 then of such extravagancies ; but still they should not 
 be admired or defended, if we pretend to pass a just 
 judgment on the writings of the greatest men. 
 
 Milton is a noble genius, and the world agrees to con- 
 fess it ; his poem of Paradise Lost is a glorious perfor- 
 mance, and rivals the most famous pieces of antiquity ; 
 but that reader must be deeply prejudiced in favour of 
 the poet, who can imagine him equal to himself through 
 all that work. Neither the sublime sentiments, nor 
 dignity of numbers, nor force or beauty of expression, 
 are equally maintained, even in all those parts which- 
 require grandeur or beauty, force or harmony. I can- 
 not but consent to Mr. Dryden's opinion, though 1 
 will not use his words, that for some scores of lines 
 together, there is a coldness and flatness, and almost a 
 perfect absence of that spirit of poesy which breathes 
 and lives and flames in other pages. 
 
 XI. When you hear any person pretending to give 
 his judgment of a book, consider witn yourself whether 
 he be a capable judge, or whether he may not lie under 
 some unhappy bias or prejudice for or against it, or 
 whether he has made a sufficient inquiry to form his 
 justest sentiments upon it. 
 
 Though bp be a man of good sense, yet he isincapa-. 
 
OF THE MIND. 67 
 
 ble of passing a true judgment of a particular book, 
 if he be not well acquajnted with the subject of which 
 it treats, and the manner in which it is written, be it 
 verse or prose ; or if he hath not had an opportunity 
 or leisure to look sufficiently into the writing itself. 
 
 Again, though he be ever 'so capable of judging on all 
 other accounts, by the knowledge of the subject, and 
 of the book itself, yet you are to consider also, whether 
 there be any thing in the author, in his manner, in his 
 language, in his opinions, and his particular party, which 
 ■may warp the sentiments of him that judgeth, to think 
 well or ill of the treatise, and to pass too favourable or 
 too severe a sentence concerning it. 
 
 If you find that he is either an unfit judge because of 
 his ignorance, or because of his prejudices, his judgment 
 of that book should go for nothing. Philographo is a 
 good divine, an useful preacher, and an approved ex- 
 positor of scripture, but he never had a taste for any of 
 the polite learning of the age; he was fond of every' 
 thing that appeared in a devout dress, but all verse 
 was alike to nim. He told me last week there was a 
 very fine book of poems published on the three Chris- 
 tian graces. Faith, Hope, and Charity, and a most ele- 
 fant piece of oratory on the four last things, Death, 
 udgment. Heaven, and Hell. Do you think I shall buy 
 either of those books merely on Philographo's recom^ 
 mendation ? 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of limng Instructions and Lectures, of Teachers attd 
 Learners. 
 
 I. X HERE are a few persons of so penetrating a 
 genius, and so just a judgment, as to be. capable of 
 learning the arts and sciences without the assistance 
 of teachers. There is scarce any science so safely 
 and so speedily learned, even by the noblest genius 
 and the best books, without a tutor. His assistance is 
 absolutely necessary for most persons, and it is very 
 useful for all beginners. Books are a sort of dumb 
 teachers, they point out the way to learning ; but if 
 we labour under any doubt or mistake, they cannot 
 answer sudden questions, or explain present d.0Tabt$ 
 
68 IMPROVEMENT j 
 
 and difficulties ; this is properly the work of a living 
 instructer. 
 
 11. There are very few tutors who are sufficiently ! 
 furnished with such universal learning, as to sustain 
 all the parts and provinces of instruction. The sci- 
 ences are numerous, and many of them lie far wide of 
 each other ; and it is best to enjoy the in'^tructions of 
 two or three tutors at least, in order to run through the 
 w^hole encyclopcedia, or circle of sciences^ where it 
 may be obtained ; then we may expect that each will 
 teach the few parts of learning which are committed 
 to his care in greater perfection. But where this advan- 
 tage cannot be had with convenience, one great man 
 must supply the place of two or three common instruc- 
 ters. 
 
 III. It is not sufficient that instructers be competently 
 skilled in those sciences which they profess and teach ; 
 but they should have skill also in the art or method of 
 teaching, and patience in the practice of it. 
 
 It is a great happiness indeed, when persons, by a 
 spirit of party, or faction, or interest, or by purchase, 
 are set up for tutors, who have neither due knowledge 
 of science, nor skill in the way of communication. 
 And, alas ! there are others, who with their ignorance 
 and insufficiency, have self admiration and affrontery 
 enough to set up themselves ; and the poor pupils fare 
 accordingly, and grow lean in their understandings. 
 
 And let it be observed also, there are some very learn- 
 ed men, who know much themselves, but have not the 
 talent of communicating their own knoAvledge ; or else 
 they are lazy, and will take no pains at it. Either they 
 have an obscure and perplexed way of talking, or they 
 show their learning uselessly, and make a long peri- 
 phrasis on every word of the book they explain, or 
 they cannot condescend to young beginners, or they 
 run presently into the elevated parts of science, be- 
 cause it gives themselves greater pleasure, or they are 
 soon angry and impatient, and cannot bear with a few 
 impertinent questions of a young, inquisitive, and 
 sprightly genius ; or else they skim over a science in a 
 Tery slight and superficial survey, and never lead their 
 disciples into the depths of it. 
 
 IV. A good tutor should ha^Ke characters and quali- 
 fitations vei*y different from all these. He is such an 
 
OF THE MIND. 64 
 
 one as both can and will apply himself with diligence and 
 concern, and indefatii:;able patience to efiFect what he 
 undertakes ; to teach his disciples, and see that they 
 leani ; to adapt his way and method as near as may be 
 to the various dispositions, as well as to the capacities 
 of those Avhom he instructs, and to inquire often into 
 their progress and improvement. 
 
 And he should take particular care of his own tem- 
 per and conduct, that there may be nothing in him or 
 about him which may be of ill example ; nothing that 
 may savour of a haughty temper, or a mean and sordid 
 spirit ; nothing that may expose him to the aversion or 
 to the contempt of his scholars, or create a prejudice 
 in their minds against him and his instructions ; but if 
 possible, he should have so much of a natural candour 
 and sweetness mixed with all the improvements of 
 learning, as might convey knowledge into the minds of 
 his disciples with a sort of gentle insinuation and sov- 
 ereign delight, and may tempt them into the highest 
 improvements of their reason by a resistless and in- 
 sensible force. But I shall have occasion to say mor^ 
 on this subject when 1 come to speak more directly 
 of the methods of the communication of knowledge. 
 
 y. The learner should attend with constancy and 
 care on all the instructions of his tutor, and if he hap- 
 pens to be at any time unavoidably hindered, he must 
 endeavour to retrieve the loss by double industry for 
 the time to come. He should always recollect and 
 review his lectures, read over some 'other author or 
 authors upon the same subject, confer upon it with his 
 instructer or with his associates, and write down the 
 clearest result of his present thoughts, reasonings, and 
 inquiries, which he may have recourse to hereafter, 
 either to re-examine them and to apply them to proper 
 use, or to improve them further to his own advantage. 
 VI. A student should never satisfy himself with bare 
 attendance on the lectures of his tutor, unless he clear- 
 ly takes up bis sense and meaning, and understands 
 the things which he teaches. A young disciple should 
 behave himself so well as to gain the affection and the 
 ear of his instructer, that upon every occasion he may 
 with the utmost freedom ask questions, and talk over 
 hi-? own sentiments, his doubts and difficulties with 
 him, and in a humble and modest manner, desire the 
 solution of them. 
 
7t> IMPROVEMENT 
 
 VII. t.et the learner endeavour to maintain an honour* 
 able opinion of his instructer, and lieedf'uUy listen to 
 his instructions, as one willing to be led by a more ex- 
 perienced guide ; and though he is not bound to fall in 
 ivith every sentiment of his tutor, yet he should so far 
 comply with him as to resolve upon ajust consideration 
 of the matter, and try and examine it thoroughly with 
 an honest heart, before he presume to determine against 
 him. And then it should be done with great modesty, 
 with a humble jealousy of himself, and apparent un- 
 W'iliingnessto differ from his tutor if the force of argu- 
 ment and truth did not constrain him. 
 
 VIII. It is a frequent and growing folly in our age, 
 that pert young disciples soon fancy themselves wiser 
 than those who teach them ; at the first view, or upon 
 a very little thoug.it, they can discern the insignificancy, 
 weakness, and mistake of what their teacher asserts. 
 The youth of our day, by an early petulency, and pre- 
 tended liberty of thinking for themselves, dare 
 reject at once, and that with a sort of scorn, all those 
 sentiments and doctrines which their teachers have 
 determined, perhaps after long and repeated consider- 
 ation, after years of mature study, careful observation, 
 and much prudent experience. 
 
 IX. It is true, teachers and masters are not infallible, 
 nor are they always in the right ; and it must be ac- 
 knowledged, it is a matter of some difficulty for younger 
 minds to maintain ajust and solemn veneration for the 
 authority and advice of their parents, and the instruc- 
 tions of their tutors, and yet at the same time to secure 
 to themselves a just freedom in their OAvn thoughts. 
 We are sometimes too ready to imbibe all their senti- 
 ments without examination if we reverence and love 
 them ; or, on the other hand, if we take all freedom to 
 contest their opinions, we are sometimes tempted to 
 cast off that love and reverence to their persons which 
 God and nature dictate. Youth is ever in danger of 
 these two extremes. 
 
 X. But I think I may safely conclude thus : Though 
 the authority of a teacher must not absolutely deter- 
 mine the judgment of his pupil, yet yoimg and raw 
 and unexperienced learners should pay all proper defei'- 
 ^^nce that can be to the instructions of their parents 
 ^^nd teachers, short of absolute submission to their die- 
 
OF THE MIND- 71 
 
 tates. Yet still we must maintain this, that they should 
 never receive any opinion into their assent, whether it 
 be conformable or contrary to the tutor's mind, with- 
 out sufficient evidence of it first given to their own 
 reasoning powers. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of learning a Language. 
 
 L HE first thing required in reading an author, or in 
 hearing lectures of a tutor, is, that you well understand 
 the language in which thej^ write or speak. Living lan- 
 guages, or such as the native tongue of any nation in 
 the present age, are more easil}"^ .learned and taught by 
 a few rules and much familiar converse, joined to the 
 reading some proper authors. The dead languages are 
 such as cease to be spoken in any nation ; asd even 
 these are more easy to be taught, as far as may be, in 
 that method wherein living languages are best learned ; 
 i. e. partly by rule, and partly by rote or custom. And 
 it may not be improper in this place to mention a few 
 directions for that purpose. 
 
 I. Begin with the most necessary and most general 
 observations and rules which belong to that language, 
 compiled in the form of a grammar ; and these are but 
 few in most languages. The regular declensions and 
 variations of nouns and verbs should be early and tho- 
 roughly learned by heart, together with twenty or thirty 
 of the plainest and most necessary rules of syntax. 
 
 But let it be observed, that in almost all languages 
 some of the most common nouns and verbs have many 
 irregularities in them ; such are the common auxiliary 
 verbs to he and to have, to do and to he done, &,c. The 
 comparatives and superlatives of the words good^ had, 
 great, much, small. Utile, Uc. and these should be learn- 
 ed among the first rules and variations, because they 
 continually occur. 
 
 But as to other words which are less frequent, let but 
 few of the anomalies or irregularities of the tongue be 
 taught among the general rules to young beginners. 
 These will come in afterwards to be learned by advan- 
 ced scholars, in a way of notes on the rules, as in the 
 liatin grammar, called the Oxford gramnaai", or in Rud^ 
 
n IMPROVEMENT 
 
 diman's notes on his rudiments, he. Or they may i)« 
 learned by examples alone, when they do occur ; or 
 by a larger and more complete system of granmiar, 
 which descends to the more particular forms of speech ; 
 Co the heteroclite nouns of the Latin tongue which 
 are taught in the school book called (^ucb Genus, should 
 not be touched in the first learning of the rudiments of 
 that tongue. 
 
 II. As the grammar by which you learn any tongue 
 should be very short at first, so it must be written in a 
 tongue with which you are well acquainted, and which 
 is very familiar to you. Therefore I much prefer the 
 common English Accidence (as it is called) to any gram- 
 mar whatsoever, written in Latin for this encf. The 
 English Accidence has, doubtless, many faults ; but 
 those editions of it which were printed since the year 
 1728, under the correction of a learned professor, are 
 the best, or the English rudiments of the Latin tongue, 
 by that learned North Briton, Mr. Ruddiman, wMiich 
 are perhaps the most useful books of this kind wiiich 
 I am acquainted with ; especially because I would not 
 depart too far from the ancient and common forms of 
 teaching, which several good grammarians have done, 
 to the great detriment of such lads as have been re- 
 moved to other schools. 
 
 The tiresome and unreasonable method of learn- 
 ing the Latin tongue by a grammar with 
 Latin rules, would appear, even to those masters who 
 teach it so, in its proper colours of absurdity and 
 ridicule, if those very masters would attempt to learn 
 the Chinese or Arabic tongue, by a grammar written 
 in the Chinese or Arabic language. Mr. Clarke of 
 Hull, has said enough in a few pages of the preface to 
 his new grammar, 172,3, to make that practice appear 
 very irrational and improper; though he has said it in 
 so warm and angry a manner that it has kindled Mr. 
 Ruddiman to write' against him, and to say what can be 
 said to vindicate a practice which I think is utterly in- 
 defensible. 
 
 III. At the same time ,when you begin the rules, begin 
 also the practice. As for instance, when you decUoe 
 MUSA MU9-E, read and construe the same day, some 
 easy Latin author by the help of a tutor, or with some 
 English translation ; choooe such a book whose style m 
 
OF THE MIND. 73 
 
 simple, and the subject of discourse very plain, obvi- 
 ous and not hard to be understood ; many little books 
 have been composed with this view, as Cordcrius's 
 Colloquies, some of Erasmus's little writings, the pay- 
 ings of the wise men of Greece, Cato's Moral Distich- 
 es, and the rest which are collected at the end of 
 Mr. Ruddiman's English Grammar, or the Latin Tes- 
 tament of Castellio's translation, which is accounted 
 the purest I*atin, &:c. These are very proper upon this 
 occasion, together with JEsop's and Phaedrus's Fables, 
 and little stories, and the common and daily affairs of 
 domestic life, written in the Latin tongue. But let the 
 higher poets, and orators, and historians, and other 
 writers, whose language is more laboured, and whose 
 sense is more remote from common life, be rather kept 
 out of sight until there be some proficiency made in the 
 language. 
 
 It is strange that masters should teach children so 
 early TuUy's Epistles, or Orations, or the Poems of 
 Ovid, or Virgil, whose sense is oftentimes difficult to find, 
 because of the great transposition of the words ; and 
 when they have found the grammatical sense, they 
 have very little use of it, because they have scarce any 
 notion of the ideas and designs of the writer, it being so 
 remote from the knowledge of a child ; whereas, little 
 common stories and colloquies, and the rules of a child's 
 behaviour, and such obvious subjects, will much better 
 assist the memory of the words by their acquaintance 
 with the things. 
 
 IV. Here it may be useful also to appoint the learn- 
 er to get by heart the more common and useful words, 
 both nouns and adjectives, pronouns and verbs, out 
 of some well formed and judicious vocabulary. 
 This will furnish him with names for the most familiar 
 ideas, 
 
 V. As soon as ever the learner is capable, let the tu- 
 tor converse with him in the tongue which he is to 
 be learned, if it be a living language, or if it be Latin, 
 which is the living language of the learned world ; thus 
 he will aquaint himself a little with it by rote, as well 
 as by rule, and by living practice as well as by reading 
 the writings of the dead. For if a child of two years 
 old by this method learns to s})eak his mother tongue, 
 I am sure the same method will greatly assist and fa^ 
 
 G 
 
74 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 cilitate the learning of any other language to those who 
 are older. 
 
 VI. Let the chief lessons and the chief exercises of 
 schools V. c. where Latin is learned (at least for the 
 first year or more) be the nouns, verbs, and general 
 rules of syntax, together with a mere translation out 
 of some Latin author into English; and let scholars be 
 employed and examined by tlieir teacher, daily, in re- 
 ducing the words to their original or theme, to the first 
 case of nouns or first tense of verbs, and giving an ac- 
 count of their formations and changes, their syntax and 
 dependencies, which is called parsing. This is a most 
 useful exercise to lead boys into a complete and. 
 thorough knowledge of what they are doing. 
 
 The English translations which the learner has made, 
 should be well corrected by the master, and then they 
 should be translated back a^ain for the next day's ex- 
 ercise, by the child, into Latm, while the Latin author 
 is withheld from him ; but he should have the Latin 
 words given him in their first case and tense, and should 
 never be left to seek them bimself from a dictionary ; and 
 the nearer he translates it to the words of the author 
 whence he derives his English, the more should the child 
 be commended. Thus will he gain skill in two languages 
 at once. I think Mr. Clark has done good service to the 
 public by his translations of Latin books for this end. 
 
 But let the foolish custom of employing every silly 
 boy to make themes or declamations, and verses upon 
 moral subjects, in a strange tongue, before he under- 
 stands common sense, even in his own language, be 
 abandoned and cashiered for ever. 
 
 VII . As the learner improves let him acauaint him- 
 self with the anomalous words, the irregular declen- 
 sions of nouns and verbs, the more uncommon connex- 
 ions of words in syntax, and the exceptions to the 
 general rules of grammar ; but let them all be reduced, 
 as far as possible, to those several original and general 
 rules which he has learned, as the proper rank and 
 place to which they belong. 
 
 VIII. While he is doing this, it may be proper for 
 him to converse with authors which are a little more 
 difficult, with historians, orators, and poets, &,c. but let 
 his tutor inform him of the Roman or Greek customs 
 which occur therein. Let the lad then translate some 
 parts of them into his mother tongue, or into some 
 
OF THE MIND. 75 
 
 other well known language, and thence back again into 
 the original language of the author. But let the verse 
 be translated into prose, for poesy does not belong to 
 grammar. 
 
 IX. By this time he will be able to acquaint himself 
 with some of the special emphasis of speech, and the 
 peculiar idioms of the tongue. He should be taught 
 also the special beauties and ornaments of the lan- 
 guage ; and this may be done partly by the help of 
 authors who have collected su<jh idioms and cast them 
 into an easy method, and partly by the judicious re- 
 marks which his instructer may make upon the authors 
 which he reads, wheresoever such peculiarities of speech 
 or special elegancies occur. 
 
 X. Though the labour of learning all the lessons by 
 heart that are borrowed from poetical authors which 
 they construe, is an unjust and unnecessary imposition 
 upon the learner, yet he must take the pains to commit 
 to*memory the most necessary, if not all the common 
 rules of grammar, with an example or two under each 
 of them ; and some of the select and most useful peri-^ 
 ods or sentences in the Latin or Greek author which he 
 reads may be learnt by heart, together with some of 
 the choiser lessons out of their poets ; and sometimes 
 whole episodes out of heroic poems, &c. as well as 
 whole odes among the lyrics may deserve this honour. 
 
 XL Let this be always carefully observed, that the 
 learners perfectly understand the sense as well as the 
 language of all those rules, lessons, or paragraphs, which 
 they attempt to commit to memory. Let the teacher 
 possess them of their true meaning, and then the labour 
 will become easy and pleasant ; whereas to impose on 
 a child to get by heart a long scroll of unknown phra- 
 ses, or words without any ideas under them, is a piece 
 of useless tyranny, a cruel imposition, and a practice 
 fitter for a jackdaw or parrot, than for any thing that 
 wears the shape of a man. 
 
 XII. And here, 1 think, I have a fair occasion given 
 me to consider that question which has been often de- 
 bated in conversation, viz. Whether the teaching of .a 
 school full of boys to learn Latin bv the Heathen poets, 
 as Ovid in his Epistles, and the silly fables of his Met- 
 amorphoses, Horace, Juvenal, and Martial, in their im- 
 pure odes. Satires, Epigrams, &c. is so proper and 
 agreeable a practice in a Christian country. 
 
76 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 XIII. (1.) I grant the language and, style of those 
 men who wrote in their own native rongue, must be 
 more pure and perfect in some nice elegancies and pe- 
 culiarities, than modern writers of other nations who 
 have imitated them ; and it is owned also that the beau- 
 ties of their poesy may much excel ; but in either of 
 these things boys cannot be supposed to be much im- 
 proved or injured by one or the other. 
 
 XIV. (2.) It shall be confessed too, that modern poets, 
 in every living language, have brought into their works 
 so many words, epithets, phrases, and metaphors, from 
 the Heathen fables and stories of their gods and heroes, 
 that in order to understand these modern writers, it is 
 necessary to understand something of those ancient fol- 
 lies ; but it may be onswered, that a good dictionary, 
 or such a book as the Pantheon, or history of those 
 Gentile deities, may give sufficient information of those 
 stories, so far as they are necessary and useful to school 
 boys. 
 
 XV. (3.) I will grant yet further, that lads who are 
 designed to make great scholars or divines may, by 
 reading these Heathen poets, be taught better to under- 
 stand the writings of the ancient fathers against the 
 Heathen religion ; and they learn here what ridiculous 
 fooleries the Gentile nations believed as the articles of 
 their faith ; what wretched and foul idolatries they in- 
 dulged and practised as duties of religion, for want of 
 the light of divine revelation. But this perhaps 
 may be learnt as well either by the Pantheon, or some 
 other collection at school ; or after they have left the 
 school, they may read what their own inclinations lead 
 them to, and whatsoever of this kind may be really 
 useful for them. 
 
 XVI. But the great question is. Whether all these ad- 
 vantages which have been mentioned will compensate 
 for the long months and years that are wasted among 
 their incredible and trifling romances, their false ana 
 shameful stories of the gods and goddesses and their 
 amours, and of the lewd heroes and vicious poets of 
 the Heathen world? Can these idle and ridiculous 
 tales be of real and solid advantage in human life ? Do 
 they not too often defile the mind with vain, mischievous 
 and impure ideas ? Do they not stick long on the fan- 
 cy, and have an unhappy influence upon youth ? Do 
 they not tincture the imagination with folly and vice, 
 
OF THE MIND. 77 
 
 very early, and pervert it from all that is good and 
 holy ? 
 
 XVII. Upon the whole survey of things, it is my 
 opinion, that for almost all boys who learn this tongue, 
 it would be much safer to be taught Latin poesy (as 
 soon and as far as they can need it) from those excel- 
 lent translations of David's Psalms, which are given us 
 by Buchanan in the various measures of Horace ; and 
 the lower classes had better read Dr. Johnson's transla- 
 tion of these Psalms, another elegant writer of the Scots 
 nation, instead of Ovid's Epistles ; for he has turned 
 the same Psalms, perhaps with greater elegance, mto 
 elegiac verse, whereof the learned W. Benson, Esq. 
 has lately published a noble edition, and 1 hear that 
 these Psalms are honoured with an increasing use in the 
 schools of Holland and Scotland. A stanza or a coup- 
 let of these writers, would now and then stick upon 
 the minds of youth, and would furnish them infinitely- 
 better with pious and moral thoughts, and do some- 
 thing towards making them good men and Christians, 
 
 XVIII. A little book collected from the Psalms of 
 both these translators, Buchanan and Johnston, and a 
 fe%v other Christian poets, would be of excelleHt use 
 for schools to begin their instructions in Latin poesy ; 
 and I am well assured this would be richly sufficient for 
 all those in lower rank, who never design a learned 
 profession, and yet custom has foolishly bound them to 
 learn that language. 
 
 But lest it should be thought hard to cast Horace and 
 Virgil, Ovid and Juvenal, entirely out of the schools, I 
 add, if here and there a fetv lyric odes or pieces of satires, 
 or some episodes of heroic verse, with here and there 
 an epigram of Martial, all which shall be pure and clear 
 from the stains of vice and impiety, and which may 
 inspire the mind with noble sentiments, fire the fancy 
 with bright and warm ideas, or teach lessons of morality 
 and prudence, were chosen out of those ancient Roman 
 writers for the use of the schools, and were collected 
 and printed in one moderate volume, or two at the most, 
 it would be abundantly sufficient provision out of the 
 Roman poets for the instruction of boys in all that is ne- 
 cessary m that age of life. 
 
 Surely Juvenal himself would not have the face ta 
 vindicate the masters who teach bovs his 6th satire, and 
 G 2 
 
78 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 many paragraphs of several others, when he himseh 
 
 Jias charged us, 
 
 Jfildictuf(£dum, visque hcec limina tangat 
 
 Intra qucR puer est. Sat. 14. 
 
 Suffer no lewdness, nor indecent speech, 
 
 Th' apartment of the tender youth to reach Dryden. 
 
 Thus far in answer to the foregoing question. But 
 I retire ; for Mr. Clark, of Hull, in his treatise on Edu- 
 cation, and Mr. Phillips, preceptor to the Duke of Cum- 
 berland, have given more excellent directions for learn- 
 ing Latin. 
 
 XIX. When a language is learnt, if it be of any use 
 at all, it is a pity it should be forgotten a^ain. It is 
 proper, therefore, to tike all just opportunities to read 
 something frequently in that language, when other ne- 
 cessary and important studies will give you leave. As 
 in learning any tongue, dictionaries which contain words 
 and phrases should be always at hand, so they should be 
 ever kept within reach by persons who would remember 
 a tongue which they have learnt. Nor should we at any 
 time content ourselves with a doubtful guess at the sense 
 or meaning of any words which occur, but consult the 
 dictionary, which may give us certain information, and 
 thus secure us from mistake. It is mere sloth which < 
 makes us content ourselves ^^^th uncertain guesses ; and 
 indeed this is neither safe nor useful for persons who 
 would learn any language or science, or have a desire 
 to retain what they nave acquired. 
 
 XX. When you have learnt one or many languages 
 ever so perfectly, take heed of priding yourself in these 
 acquisitions ; they are but mere treasures of words, or 
 instruments of true and solid knowledge ; and whose 
 chief design is to lead us into an acquaintance with things, 
 or to enable us more easily to convey those ideas of that 
 knowledge to others. An acquaintance with the various 
 tongues is nothing else but a relief against the mischief 
 which the building of Babel introduced ; and were 1 
 master of as many languages as were spoken at Babel, I 
 should make but a poor pretence to true learning or. 
 knowledge, if I had not clear and distinct ideas, and 
 useful notions in my head, under the words which my 
 tongue could pronounce. Yet so unhappy a thing is 
 human nature, that this sort of knowledge of sounds and 
 
OF THE MIND. 79 
 
 syllables, is ready to puff up the mind with vanity, more 
 than the most valuable and solid improvements of it. 
 The pride of a grammarian or a critic, generally exceeds 
 that of a philosopher. 
 
 CHAP. vni. 
 
 Of inquiring into the Sense and Meaning of any Wri- 
 ter or Speaker^ and especially the Sense of the Sacred 
 Writings. 
 
 AT is a great unhappiness that there is such an ambi- 
 guity in words and forms of speech, that the same sen- 
 tence may be drawn into different significations ; where- 
 by it comes to pass, that it is difficult sometimes for 
 the reader exactly to hit upon the ideas which the 
 Avriter or speaker had in his mind. Some of the best 
 rules to direct us herein are such as these : 
 
 1. Be well acquainted with the tongue itself, or lan- 
 guage wherein the author's mind is expressed. Learn 
 not only the true meaning of each word, but the sense 
 which those words obtain when placed in such a par- 
 ticular situation and order. Acquaint yourself with 
 the peculiar power and emphasis of the several modes 
 of speech, and the various idioms of the tongue. The 
 secondary ideas .which custom has superadded to many 
 •words, should also be known, as well as the particular 
 and primary meaning of them, if we would understand 
 any writer. See Logic, Parti. Chap. 4. ^ S. 
 
 n. Consider the signification of those words and 
 phrases, more especially in the same nation, or near 
 the same age in which that writer lived, and in what 
 sense they are used by authors of the same nation, 
 opinion, sect, party, kc. 
 
 Upon this account we may learn to interpret several 
 phrases of the New Testament out of that version of 
 the Hebrew Bible into Greek, which is called the Sep- 
 tuagint ; for though that version be very imperfect and 
 defective in many things, yet it seems to me evident, 
 that the holy writers of the New Testament made use 
 of that version many times in their citation of texts out 
 of the Bible. 
 
 HI. Compar.e the words and phrases in one place of 
 an author with the same or kindred words and phrases 
 
30 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 used in other places of the same author, which are 
 general!}' called parallel places ; and as one expression 
 explains another which is like it, so sometimes a contra- 
 ry expression will explain its contrary. Remember 
 always, that a writer best interprets himself ; and 
 as we believe the Holy Spirit to be the supreme 
 agent in the writings of the Old Testament and the 
 New, he can best explain himself. Hence the the- 
 ological rule arises, that scripture is the best interpreter 
 of scripture ; and therefore Concordances, which show 
 us parallel places, are of excellent use for interpretation. 
 
 IV. Consider the subject of which the author is 
 treating, and by comparing other places where he 
 treats of the same subject, you may learn his sense 
 in the place which you are reading, though sometimes 
 the terms which he uses in those places may be very 
 different. 
 
 And on the other hand, if the author use the same 
 words where the subject of which he treats is not just 
 the same, you cannot learn his sense by comparing 
 those two places, though the mere words may seem 
 to agree ; for some authors, when they are treating of 
 a quite different subject, may use perhaps the same 
 words in a very different sense, as St. Paul does the 
 words faith, and law, and righteousness. 
 
 y. Observe the scope and design of the writer ; in- 
 quire into his aim and end in that book, or section, or 
 paragraph, which will help to explain particular senten- 
 ces ; for we suppose a wise and judicious writer directs 
 his expressions generally toward his designed end. 
 
 VI. When an author speaks of any subject occasion- 
 ally, let his sense be explained by those places where 
 he treats of it distinctly and professedly ; where he 
 treats of any subject in mystical or metaphorical terms, 
 explain them by other places where he treats of the 
 same subject in terms that are plain and literal ; where 
 he speaks in an oratorical, affecting, or persuasive way, 
 let this be explained by other places where he treats of 
 the same theme in a doctrinal or instructive way ; where 
 the author speaks more strictly, and particularly on any 
 theme, it will explain the mere loose and general ex- 
 pressions ; where he treats more largely, it will explain 
 the shorter hints and brief intimations ; and whereso- 
 ever he writes more obscurely, search out some more 
 
OF THE MIND. 81 
 
 perspicuous passages in the same writer, by which to 
 determine the sense of that obscurer language. 
 
 VII. Consider not only the person who is introduced 
 speaking, but the persons to whom the speech is direct- 
 ed, the circumstances of time and place, the temper 
 and spirit of the speaker, as well as the temper and 
 spirit of the hearers ; in order to interpret scripture 
 well, there needs a good acquaintance with the Jewish 
 customs, some knowledge of the ancient Roman and 
 Greek times and manners, which sometimes strike a 
 strange and surprising light upon passages which before 
 were very obscure. 
 
 VIII. In particular propositions, the sense of an au- 
 thor may be sometimes known by the inferences which 
 he draws from them ; and all those senses may be 
 excluded, which will not allow of that inference. 
 
 Note. This rule indeed is not always certain in read- 
 ing; and interpreting human authors, because they may 
 mistake in drawing their inferences ; but in explaining 
 scripture it is a sure rule ; for the sacred and inspired 
 writers always make just inferences from their own 
 propositions. Yet even in them we must take heed we 
 do not mistake an allusion for an inference, which is 
 many times introduced almost in the same manner. 
 
 IX. If it be a matter of controversy, the true sense 
 of the author is sometimes known by the objections 
 that are brought against it. So we may be well assured, 
 the Apostle speaks against our justification in the sight 
 of God by our own works of noliness, in the 3d, 4th, 
 and 5th chapters of the Epistle to the Romans, because 
 of the objection brought against him in the beginning of 
 the 6th chapter, viz. ' ffhat shall we say then ? Shall we 
 continue in sin that grace may abound V which objec- 
 tion could never have been raised, if he had been 
 proving our justification by our own works of right- 
 eousness. 
 
 X. In matters of dispute take heed of warping 
 the sense of the writer to your own opinion, by any la- 
 tent prejudices of self love and party spirit. It is this 
 reigning princijile of prejudice and party that has 
 given such a variety of senses both to the sacred writers 
 and others, which would never have come into the 
 mind of the reader, if he had not laboured under some 
 such prepQSsessions. 
 
82 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 XI. For the same reason take heed of the prejudices 
 of passion, mahce, envy, pride, or opposition to an au- \ 
 thor, whereby you may be easily tempted to put a false 
 and invidious sense upon his words. Lay aside tliere- ' 
 fore a carping spirit, and read even an adversary -with 
 attention and diUgence, with an honest design to find 
 out his true meaning ; do not snatch at little lapses and 
 appearances of mistake, in opposition t© his aeclared 
 and avowed meaning ; nor impute any sense or opinion 
 to him which he denies to be his opinion, unless it be 
 proved by the most plain and express language. 
 
 Lastly, Remember that you treat every author, wri- 
 ter, or speaker, just as you yourselves would be willing 
 to be treated by others, who are searching out the 
 meaning of what you write or speak; and maintain 
 upon your spirit an awful sense of the presence of God, 
 who is the judge of hearts, and will punish those who 
 by a base and dishonest turn of mind wilfully pervert 
 the meaning of the sacred writers, or even of common 
 authors, under the influence of culpable prejudices. 
 See Morels Logic, Part I. Chap. 6. ^ 3. " Directions 
 concerning the definition of Names. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Rules of Improvement by Conversation. 
 
 If we would improve our minds by conversation, it is 
 a great happiness to be acquainted with persons wiser 
 than ourselves. It is a piece of useful advice, therefore, 
 to get the favour of their conversation frequently, as far 
 as circumstances will allow ; and if they nappen to be 
 a little reserved, use all obliging methods to draw out 
 of them what may increase your own knowledge. 
 
 II. Whatsoever company you are in, waste not the 
 time in trifle and impertinence. If you spend some 
 hours amongst children, talk with them according to 
 their capacity ; mark the young buddings of infant 
 reason ; observe the different motions and distinct 
 workings of the animal and the mind, as far as you can 
 discern them ; take notice by what degrees the little 
 creature grows up to the use of his reasoning powers, 
 and what early prejudices beset and endanger his un- 
 derstanding. By this means you will learn how to 
 
OF THE MIND. 3S 
 
 address yourself to children for their benefit, and per- 
 haps you may derive some useful philosophemes or 
 theorems for your own entertainment. 
 
 III. If you happen to be in company with a merchant 
 or a sailor, a farmer or a mechanic, a milk-maid or a 
 spinster, lead them into a discourse of the matters of 
 their own peculiar province or profession ; for every 
 one knows, or should know his own business best, in 
 this sense a common mechanic is wiser than a philoso- 
 pher. By this means you may gain Some improvement 
 m knowledge from every one you meet. 
 
 IV. Confine not yourself always to one sort of 
 company, or to persons of the same party or opinion, 
 either in matters of learning, relij^ion, or the civil life, 
 lest if you should happen to be nursed up or educated 
 in early mistake, you should be confirmed and estab- 
 lished in the same mistake, by conversing only with 
 persons of the same sentiments. A free and general con- 
 versation with men of very various countries, and of dif- 
 ferent parties, opinions and practices, (so far as it may be 
 done safely) is of excellent use to undeceive us in many 
 wrong judgments which we majr have framed, and to 
 lead us into juster thoughts. It is said, when ihe King 
 of Siam, near China, first conversed with some Euro- 
 
 Eean merchants, who sought the favour of trading on 
 is coast, he inquired of them some of the common 
 appearances of summer and winter in their coun- 
 try ; and when they told him of water grooving so hard 
 in their rivers, that men and horses and laden carriages 
 passed over it, and that rain sometimes fell down as 
 white and as light as feathers, and sometimes almost 
 as hard as stones, he would not believe a word they 
 said ; for ice, snow, and hail, were names of things Ut- 
 terly unknown to him and to his subjects in that 
 hot climate ; he renounced all traffic with such shame- 
 ful liars, and would not suffer them to trade with his 
 people. See here the natural effects of gross igno- 
 rance. 
 
 Conversation with foreigners on various occasions 
 has a happy influence to enlarge our minds, and to set 
 them free from any errors and gross prejudices we 
 are ready to imbibe concerning them. Domicillus has 
 never travelled five miles from his mothers chimney, 
 and he imagines all outlandish men are papishes, and 
 
84 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 worship nothing but a cross. Tytirus, the shepherd, 
 was bred up all his life in the country, and never saw 
 Rome : he fancied it to be only a huge village, and 
 was therefore infinitely surprised to find such palaces, 
 such streets, such glittering treasures and gay magnifi- 
 cence, as his first journey to the city showed him, and 
 with wonder confesses his folly and mistake. So Vir- 
 gil introduces a poor shepherd : 
 
 Urbem quam dicunt Romam, Melib(ze, puiavi 
 Stultiis ego liuic noslroE, similem, quo scepe solemus 
 Past ores ovium teneros depelkrefcetus, ^c. 
 
 THUS ENGLISHED : 
 
 Fool that I was, I thought imperial Rome 
 
 Little market towns, where once a week we corae, 
 
 Aud thither drive our tender lambs from home. 
 
 Conversation would have given Tytirus a better no- 
 tion of Rome, though he had never happened to travel 
 thither. 
 
 V. In mixed company, among acquaintance and 
 strangers, endeavour to learn something from all. Be 
 swift to hear, but be cautious of your tongue, lest you 
 betray your ignorance, and perhaps offend some of 
 those who are present too. The scripture severely 
 censures those who speak evil of the things which 
 they know not. Acquaint yourself therefore some- 
 times with persons and parties which are far distant 
 from your common life and customs ; this is a way 
 whereby you may form a wiser opinion of men and 
 things. Prove alt things, and holdfast that which is 
 good, is a divine rule, and it comes from the Father of 
 light and truth. But young persons should practice it 
 indeed with due limitation, and under the eye of their 
 elders. 
 
 VI. Be not frightened or provoked at opinions dif- 
 ferent from your own. Some persons are so confident 
 they are in the right, that they will not come within the 
 hearing of any notions but their own ; they canton out 
 to themselves a little province in the intellectual world, 
 where they fancy the light shines, and all the rest is in 
 darkness. They never venture into the ocean of know- 
 ledge, nor survey the riches of other minds, which are 
 as solid, and as useful, and perhaps are finer gold than 
 
OF THE MIND. 85 
 
 Tvhat they ever possessed. Let not men imagine there 
 is no certain truth but in the sciences which they study, 
 and amongst that party in which they were born and 
 educated. 
 
 VII. Believe that it is possible to learn something 
 from persons much below yourself. We are all short 
 sighted creatures ; our views are also narrow and limi- 
 ted ; we often see but one side of a matter, and do not 
 extend our sight far and wide enough to reach every 
 thing that has a connexion with the thing we talk of; 
 we see but in part, and know but in part; therefore it is 
 no wonder we form no right conclusions, because we do 
 not survey the whole of any subject or argument. Ev- 
 en the proudest admirer of his own parts might find it 
 useful to consult with others, though of inferior capacity 
 and penetration. We have a different prospect of the 
 same thing, if I may so speak, according to the different 
 position of our understandings towards it ; a weaker 
 man may sometimes light on notions which have es- 
 caped a wiser, and which the wiser man might make a 
 happy use of, if he would condescend to take notice of 
 them. 
 
 VIII. It is of considerable advantage, when we are 
 pursuing any difficult point of knowledge, to have a 
 society of ingenious correspondents at hand, to whom 
 we may propose it ; for every man has something of a 
 different genius and a various turn of mind, whereby 
 the subject proposed will be shown in all its lights, it 
 will be represented in all its forms, and every side of 
 it be turned to view, that a juster judgment maybe 
 framed. 
 
 IX. To make conversation more valuable and use- 
 ful, whether it be in a designed or accidental visit, 
 among persons of the same or of different sexes, after 
 the necessary salutations are finished, and the stream of 
 common talk begins to hesitate, or runs flat and low, 
 let some one person take a book which may be agree- 
 able to the whole company, and by common consent 
 let him read in it ten lines, or a paragraph or two, or a 
 few pages, till some word or sentence gives an occasion 
 for any of the company to offer a thought or two rela- 
 ting to that subject. Interruption of the reader should 
 he no blame, for conversation is the business ; whether 
 
 H 
 
86 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 it be to confirm what the author says, or to improve it, to 
 enlarge uj)on or to correct it, to object against it, or to 
 ask any question that is akin to it, and let every one that 
 pleases add his opinion, ar^d promote the conversation. 
 When the discourse sinks again or diverts to trifles, let 
 him that reads pursue the page, and read on further 
 paragraphs or pages till some occasion be given by a 
 word or sentence for a new discourse to be started, and 
 that with the utmost ease and freedom. Such a meth- 
 od as this would prevent the hours of a visit fromr run- 
 ning all to waste ; and by this means, even among scho- 
 lars, they would seldom find occasion for that too just 
 and bitter reflection, ' I have lost my time in the com- 
 pany of the learned.' 
 
 By such a practice as this, young ladies may very 
 honourably and agreeably improve their hours ; while 
 one applies herself to reading, the others employ their 
 attention even among the various artifices of the needle ; 
 but let all of them make their occasional remarks or 
 inquiries. This will guard a great deal of that precious 
 time from modish trifling, impertinence or scandal, 
 which might otherwise aflbrd matter for painful repen- 
 tance. 
 
 Observe this rule in general^ whensoever it lies in 
 your power to lead the conversation, let it be directed' 
 to some profitable point of knowledge or practice, so 
 far as may be done with decency ; and let not the dis- 
 course and the hours be suffered to* run loose without 
 aim or design ; and when a subject is started, pass not 
 hastily to another, before you have brought the present 
 tlieme of discourse to some tolerable issue, or a joint 
 consent to drop it. 
 
 X. Attend with sincere diligence while any one of 
 the company is declaring his sense of the question 
 proposed ; hear the argument with patience, though 
 it differ ever so much from your sentiments, for you 
 yourself are very desirous to be heard Avith patience by 
 others who differ from you. Let not your thoughts 
 be active and busy all the while to find out something 
 to contradict, and by what means to oppose the speaker, 
 especially in matters that are not brought to an issue. 
 This is a frequent and unhappy temper and practice. 
 You should rather be intent and solicitous to take up 
 the mind and meaning of the speaker, zealous to seize 
 
OF THE MIND. 87 
 
 and approve all that is true in his discourse ; nor yet 
 should you want courage to oppose where it is necessa- 
 ry ; but let your modesty and patience, and a friendly 
 temper be as conspicuous as your zeal. 
 
 XL When a man speaks with much freedom and 
 ease, and gives his opinion in the plainest language of 
 common sense, do not presently imagine you shall 
 gain nothing by his company. Sometimes you will 
 tind a person, who, in his conversation or his writings, 
 delivers his thoughts in so plain, so easy, so familiar 
 and, perspicuous a manner, that you both understand 
 and assent to every thing he saith, as fast as you read 
 or hear it ; hereupon some hearers have been ready to 
 conclude in haste, ' Surely this man saith none but com- 
 mon things, I knew as much before, or, I could have 
 said all this myself.' This is a frequent mistake. Pel- 
 lucido was a very great genius ; when he spoke in the 
 senate, he was wont to convey his ideas in so simple 
 and happy a manner, as to instruct and convince every 
 hearer, and to enforce the conviction through the whole 
 illustrious assembly ; and that with so much evidence, 
 that you would have been ready to wonder that every 
 one who spoke had not said the same things; butPelluci- 
 do was the only man that could do it ; the only speaker 
 who had attained this art and honour. Such is the wri- 
 ter of whom Horace would say, 
 
 ■ Ut sibi quivis ; 
 
 Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret 
 Ausus idem. De Art. Poet. 
 
 Smoothe be your style, and plain and natural, 
 To strike the sons of Wappingor Whitehall. 
 While others think this easy to attain, i 
 
 Let them but try, and with their utmost pain, > 
 They'll sweat and strive to imitate in vaih. } 
 
 XII. If any thing seem dark in the discourse of your 
 companion, so that you have not a clear idea of what 
 is spoken, endeavour to obtain a clearer conception of 
 it by a decent manner of inquiry. Do not charge the 
 speaker with obscurity, either in his sense or his words, 
 but intreat his favour to relieve your own want of pene- 
 tration, or to add an enlightening word or two, that you 
 may take up his Avhole meaning. 
 
 If difficulties arise in your mind and constrain j^our 
 dissent to the things spoken, represent what objections 
 
88 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 some persons would be ready to make against the sen- 
 timents of the speaker, without telling him you oppose. 
 This manner of address carries something more modest 
 and obliging in it, than to appear to raise objections of 
 your own by Avay of contradiction to him that spoke. 
 
 XIII. When you are forced to differ from him who 
 delivers his sense on any point, yet agree as far as you 
 can, and represent how far you agree ; and if there be 
 any room for it, explain the words of the j^peaker in 
 such a sense to which you can in general assent, and 
 so agree with him ; or at least by a small fttidition or 
 alteration of his sentiments show your o^wp sense of 
 things. It is the practice and delight of a caimdheareijL i 
 to make it appear how unwilling he is to oK/f^ from / 
 him that speaks. Let the speaker know tha^rc is noth- . ' 
 ing but truth constrains you to oppose him, and let that/ 
 difference be always expressed in few, and civil, and 
 chosen words, such as give the least offence. 
 
 And be careful always to take Solomon's rule with 
 you, and let your correspondent fairly finish his speech 
 before you reply ; " for he that answereth a matter u- 
 before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him." 
 Prov. xviii. 13. 
 
 A little Avatchfulness, care, and practice, in younger 
 life, will render all these things more easy, familiar, 
 and natural to you, and will grow into habit. 
 
 XIV. As you should carry about with you a constant 
 and sincere sense of your own ignorance, so you should 
 not be afraid nor ashamed to confess this ignorance, by 
 taking all proper opportunities to ask and inquire for 
 farther information; whether it be the meaning of a 
 word, the nature of a thing, the reason of a proposi- 
 tion, the custom of a nation, k.c. never remain in ig- 
 *norance for want of asking. 
 
 Many a person had arrived at some considerable de- 
 gree of knowledge, if he had not been full of self con- 
 ceit, and imagined that he had known enough already, 
 or else was ashamed to let others know that he was 
 unacquainted with it. God and man are ready to teach 
 the meek, the humble, and the ignorant ; but he that 
 fancies himself to know any particular subject well, or 
 that will not venture to ask a question about it, such an 
 one will not put himself into the way of improvement 
 by inquiry and diligence. A fool may be wiser in his 
 
OF THE MIND. 89 
 
 own conceit than ten men who can render a reason, and *1 
 such an one is very likely to be an everlasting fool ; and \ 
 perhajDS also it is a silly shame which renders his folly ^ 
 incurable. 
 
 StultoTum incurata pudor rrvttlusulcera celat. 
 
 Hor.Epist. 16. Lib. 1. 
 
 IN ENGLISH THUS : 
 
 If fools have ulcers, and their pride conceal 'em, 
 They must have ulcers still, for none can heal 'em. 
 
 XV^. Be not too forward, especially in the younger 
 part of life, to determine any question in company 
 with an infallible and peremptory sentence, nor speak 
 with assuming airs and with a decisive tone of voice, 
 young man in the presence of his elders should 
 [rather hear and attend, and weigh the arguments 
 which are brought for the proof or refutation of 
 'any doubtful proposition, and when it is your turn to 
 ;peak, propose j^our thoughts rather in the way of in- 
 quiry. By this means your mind Avill be kept in a 
 iitter temper to receive truth, and you will be more 
 ready to correct and improve your own sentiments, 
 where you have not been too positive in affirming them. 
 But if you have magisterially decided the point, you 
 will iind a secret unwillingness to retract, though you 
 should feel an inward conviction that you were in the 
 wrong. 
 
 XVI. It is granted indeed, that a season may happen, 
 when some bold pretender to science may assume 
 haughty and positive airs to assert and vindicate a 
 gross and dangerous error, or to renounce and vilify 
 some very important truth; and if he has a popular- 
 talent of talking, and there be no remonstrance made 
 against him, the company may be tempted too easily 
 to give their assent to the impudence and infallibility 
 of the presumer. They may miagine a proposition so 
 much viliiied can never be true, and that a doctrine 
 which is so boldly censured, and renounced can never 
 be defended. Weak minds are too ready to persuade 
 themselves, that a man w^ould never talk with so much 
 assurance, unless he were certainly in the right, and 
 could well maintain and prove what he said. By this 
 means truth itself is in danger of being betrayed or lost, 
 if there be no opposition made to such a pretending 
 talker. 
 
60 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 Now, in such a case, even a wise and a modest nnan 
 ' may assume airs too, and repel insolence with its own 
 weapons. There is a time, as Solomon the wisest of men 
 . teaches us, when a fool should be answered according to 
 ^ his folly, lest he be wise in his own conceit, and lest 
 others too easily yeild up their faith and reason to his 
 imperious dictates. Courage and positivity are never 
 more necessary than on such an occasion. But it is 
 good to join some argument with them of real and con- 
 vincing force, and let it be strongly pronounced too. 
 
 When such a resistance is made, you shall find some 
 of these bold talkers will draw in their horns, when their 
 fierce and feeble pushes against truth and reason are re- M 
 pelled with pushing and confidence. It is pity indeed ■ 
 that truth should ever need such sort of defences ; but ^ 
 we know that a triumphant assurance hath sometimes 
 supported gross falsehoods, and a whole compan)^ have 
 been captivated to error, by this means, tHi^ome man 
 with equal assurance hath rescued them. It is a pity that ^ 
 any momentous point of doctrine should happen to 
 fall under such reproaches, and require such a mode of 
 vindication ; though if I happen to hear it, I ou^ht not 
 to turn my back, and to sneak off in silence, and leave 
 the truth to lie baflled, bleeding, and slain. Yetl must 
 confess, I should be glad to have no occasion ever given 
 me to fight with any man at this sort of weapons, even 
 though I should be so happy as to silence his insolence, 
 and to obtain an evident victory. 
 
 XVII. Be not fond of disputing every thing jiro and 
 con, nor indulge to show your talent of attacking and 
 defending. A logic which teaches nothing else is little 
 worth. This temper and practice will lead you just so 
 far out of the way of knowledge, and divert your honest 
 inquiry after the truth whieh is debated or sought. In 
 Set disputes, every straw is often laid hold on to support 
 our own cause ; every thing that can be done in any way 
 to give colour to our argument is advanced, and that per- 
 haps with vanity and ostentation. This puts the mind 
 out of a proper posture to seek and receive the truth. 
 
 XVIII, Do not bring a warm party spirit into a free 
 conversation, which is designed for mutual improvement 
 m the search of truth. Take heed of allowing yourself 
 in those self satisfied assurances which keep the door of 
 the understanding barred fast against the admission of 
 
OF THE MIND. 91 
 
 any new sentiments. Let your soul be ever ready to 
 hearken to furtherdiscoveries,from a constant and ruling 
 consciousness of our present fallible and imperfect state ; 
 and make itappearto your friends, thatit is no hard task 
 for you to learn and pronounce those little words, / was 
 mistaken, how bard soever it be for the bulk of mankind 
 to pronounce them. 
 
 'XIX. As you may sometimes raise inquiries for your 
 own instruction and iniprovement, and draw out the 
 learning, wisdom, and fine sentiments of your friends, 
 who perhaps may be too reserved or modest ; so at 
 other times, if you perceive a person unskilful in the 
 matter of debate, you may by questions aptly proposed 
 in the Socratic method, lead him into a clearer know- 
 ledge of the subject ; then you become his instructer 
 in such a manner as may not appear to make yourself 
 his superior. 
 
 XX. Take heed of affecting always to shine in com- 
 pany above the rest, and to display the riches of your 
 own understanding or your oratory, as though you 
 ■would render yourself admirable to all that are present. 
 This is seldom well taken in polite company ; much 
 less should you use such forms of speech as should in- 
 sinuate the ignorance or dulness of those with whom 
 you converse. 
 
 XXI. Though you should not affect to flourish in a 
 copious harangue and diffusive style in company, yet 
 neither should you rudely interrupt and reproach him 
 that happens to use it. But when he has done speak- 
 ing, reduce his sentiments into a more contracted form, 
 not with a show of correcting, but as one who is doubtful^ 
 •whether you hit upon his true sentiments or no. Thus 
 matters may be brought more easily from a wild confu- 
 sion into a single point, questions may be sooner deter- 
 mined, and dimculties more readily removed. 
 
 XXII. Be not so ready to charge ignorance, preju- 
 dice, and mistake upon others, as you are to suspect 
 yourself of it ; and m order to show how free you are 
 jrom prejudices, learn to bear contradiction with pa- 
 tience; let it be easy to you to hear your own opinion 
 strongly opposed, especially in matters which are 
 doubtful and disputable amongst men of sobriety and 
 yirtue. Give a patient hearing to arguments on all 
 
92 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 sides, otherwise you give the company occasion to sus^ 
 pect that it is not the evidence of truth has led you 
 into this opinion, but some lazy anticipation of judg- 
 ment; some beloved presumption, some long and rash 
 possession of a party scheme, in which you desire to 
 rest undisturbed. If your assent has been established 
 upon just and sufficient grounds, why should you be 
 afraid to let the truth be put to the trial of argu- 
 ment ? 
 
 XXIII. Banish utterly out of all conversation, and 
 especially out of all learned and intellectual conference, 
 every thing that tends to provoke passion, or raise a fire 
 in the blood. Let ho sharp language, no noisy exclama- 
 tion, no sarcasms or biting jests, be heard among you ; 
 no perverse or invidious consequences be drawn from 
 each other's opinions, and imputed to the person ; let 
 there be no wilful perversion of another's meaning ; 
 no sudden seizure of a la{)sed syllable to play upon it, 
 nor any abased construction of an innocent mistake ; 
 suffer not your tongue to insult a modest opponent that 
 begins to yield ; let there be no crowing or triumph, 
 even where there is evident victory on your side. 
 All these things are enemies to friendship, and the 
 ruin of free conversation. The impartial search of 
 truth requires all calmnesE, and serenity, all temper and 
 candour ; mutual instruction can never be attained in 
 the midst of passion, pride, and clamour, unless we 
 suppose in the midst of such a scene there is a 
 loud and penetrating lecture read by both sides 
 on the folly and shameful infirmities of human na- 
 t,ture. 
 
 XJCIV. Whensoever therefore any unhappy word 
 shall arise in company that might give you a reasona- 
 ble disgust, quash the rising resentment, be it ever so 
 just, and command your soul and your tongue into si- 
 lence, lest you cancel the hopes of all improvement for 
 that hour, and transform the learned conversation into 
 the mean and vulgar form of reproaches and railing. 
 The man who began to break the peace in such a so- 
 ciety, will fall under the shame and conviction of such 
 a silent reproof, if he has any thing ingenious about 
 him. If this should not be sufficient, let a grave ad- 
 monition, or a soft or gentle turn of wit, vnth an air 
 
OF THE MIND. 9S 
 
 of pleasantry, give the warm disputer an occasion to 
 stop the progress of his indecent fire, if not to retract 
 the indecency, and quench the flame. 
 
 XXV. Inure yourself to a candid and obliging man- 
 ner in all your conversation, and acquire the art of 
 pleasing address, even when you leach as well as when 
 you learn, and when you oppose as well as when you 
 assert or prove. This degree of politeness is not to be 
 attained without a diligent attention to such kind of 
 directions as are here laid down, and a frequent exer- 
 cise and practice of them 
 
 XXVI. If you would know what 'sort of compan- 
 ions you should select for the cultivation and advan- 
 tage of the mind, the general rule is, Choose such as 
 by their brightness of parts, and their diligence in stu- 
 dy, or by their superior advancement in learning, or pe- 
 culiar excellency m any art, science, or accomplishment, 
 divine or human, may be capable of administering to 
 your improvement ; and be sure to maintain and keep 
 some due regard to their moral character always, lest 
 while you wander in quest of intellectual gain, you fall 
 into the contagion of irreligion and vice. No wise 
 man would venture into a house infected with the 
 plague in order to see the finest collections of any vir- 
 luoso in Europe. 
 
 XXVII. Nor is it every sober person of your ac- 
 quaintance, no, nor every man of bright parts, or 
 rich in learning, that is fit to engage in free conversa- 
 tion for the inquiry after truth. £et a person have ev- 
 er so illustrious talents, yet he is not a proper associate 
 for such a purpose, if he lie under any of the following 
 infirmities : 
 
 (1.) If he be exceedingly reserved, and hath either 
 no inclination to discourse, or no tolerable capacity of 
 speech and language for the communication of his sen- 
 timents. 
 
 (2) If he be haughty and proud of his knowledge, 
 imperious in his airs, and is always fond of imposing 
 his^sentiment on all the company. 
 
 (3.) If he be positive and dogmatical in his own opin- 
 ions, and will dispute to the end ; if he will resist the 
 brightest evidence of truth rather than suffer himself 
 to be overcome, or yield to the plainest and strongest 
 reasonings. 
 
94 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 (4.) If he be one who always affects to outshine ajl 
 the company/' and delights to hear himself talk and 
 flourish upon a subject, and make long harangues, while 
 the rest must be all silent and attentive. 
 
 (5.) If he be a person of a whiffling and unsteady 
 turn of mind, who cannot keep close to a point of con- 
 troversy, but wanders from it perpetuallj^, and is al- 
 wa3'^s solicitous to say something, whether it be per- 
 tinent to the question or no. 
 
 (6.) If he be fretful and peevish, and given to resent- 
 ment upon all occasions ; if he knows not how to bear 
 contradiction, or is ready to take things in a wrong 
 sense ; if he be swift to feel a supposed offence, or to 
 imagine himself affronted, and then break out into a 
 sudden passion, or retain silent and sullen wrath. 
 
 (7.) It he affect wit on all occasions, and is full of 
 his conceits and puns, quirks or quibbles, jests and 
 repartees ; these may agreeably entertain and animate 
 an hour of mirth, but they have no place in the search 
 after truth. 
 
 (8.) If he carry always about him a sort of craft 
 and cunning, and disguise, and act rather like a spy 
 than a friend. Have a care of such an one as will make 
 an ill use of freedom in conversation, and immediately 
 charge heresy upon you, when you happen to differ 
 from those sentiments which authority or custom has 
 established. 
 
 In short, you should avoid the man in such select 
 conversation, who practices any thing that is unbecom- 
 ing the character of a sincere, free, and open searcher 
 after truth. 
 
 Now, though you may pay all the relative duties of 
 life to persons of these unhappy qualifications, and treat 
 them with decency and love, so far as religion and hu- 
 manity oblige you, yet take care of entering into a free 
 debate on matters of truth or falsehood in their com- 
 pany, and especially about the principles of religion- 
 I confess, if a person of such a temper, happens to 
 judge and talk well on such a subject, you may hear him 
 "with attention, and derive what profit you can from his 
 discourse ; but he is by no means to be chosen for a 
 free confe»-ence in matters of inquiry and knowitdge. 
 
 XXVIII. While I would persuade you to beware of 
 such persons, and abstain from too much freedom ^'f 
 
OF THE MIND, 95 
 
 discourse amongst them, it is very natural to infer that 
 you should watch against the working of these evil 
 qualities in your own breast, if you happen to be 
 tainted with any of them yourself. Men of learning 'J 
 and ingenuity will justly avoid your acquaintance, when \ 
 they find such an unhappy and unsociable temper pre- "^ 
 vailing in you. 
 
 XXIX. To conclude : When you retire from com- 
 pany, then converse Avith yourself in solitude, and in- 
 jjuire what you have learned for the improvement of 
 your understanding, or for the rectifying your inclbrta- 
 tion, for the increase of your virtues, or the ameliorat- 
 ing your conduct and behaviour in any future parte of 
 life. If you have seen some of your company candid, 
 modest and humble in their manner, wise and sagacious, 
 just and pious in their sentiments, polite and graceful, 
 as well as clear and strong in their expression, and uni- 
 vei-sally acceptable and lovely in their behaviour, en- 
 deavour to impress the idea of all these upon your mem- 
 ory, and treasure them up for your imitation. 
 
 XXX. If the laws of reason, decency, and civility, > 
 have not been well observed among your associates, 
 take notice of those defects foryour own improvement ; 
 and from every occurrence of this kind, remark some- 
 thing to imitate or to avoid, in elegant, polite and use- 
 ful conversation. Perhaps you will find that some 
 persons present have really displeased the company by 
 too excessive and visible a desire to please ; i. e. by 
 giving loose to servile flattery, or promiscuous praise ; 
 \vhile others were as ready to oppose and contradict 
 every thing that was said. Some have deserved just 
 censure for a morose and affected taciturnity, and others 
 have been anxious and careful lest their silence should 
 be interpreted a want of sense, and therefore they 
 have ventured to make speeches, though they^ had 
 nothing to say which was worth hearing. Perhaps 
 you will observe, that one Avas ingenious in his thoughts, 
 and bright in his language, but he was so top full of 
 himself, that he let it spill on all the company ; that he 
 spoke well indeed, but that he spoke too long, and did 
 not allow equal time or liberty to his associates. You 
 will remark, that another was full charged to let out 
 his words before his friend had done speaking, or im- 
 patient of the least opposition to any thing he said. 
 
96 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 You will remember that some persons have talked at 
 large, and with great confidence, of things %vhich they 
 understood not ; and others counted everything tedious 
 and intolerable that was spoken upon subjects out of 
 i V their sphere, and they would fain confine the conference 
 f entirely within the limits of their own narrow know- 
 ledge and study. The errors of conversation are al- 
 most infinite. 
 
 XXXI. By a review of such irregularities as these,' 
 you may learn to avoid those follies and pieces of ill 
 conduct which spoil good conversation, or make it less 
 agreeable and less useful ; and by degrees you will ac- 
 quire that delightful and easy manner of address and 
 behaviour in all useful correspondencies, which may- 
 render your company every where desired and beloved ; 
 and at the same time, among the best of your com- 
 panions, you may make the highest improvement in 
 your own intellectual acquisitions, that the discourse 
 of mortal creatures will allow, under all our disadvan- 
 tages in this sorry state of mortality. But there is a 
 day coming, when we shall be seized away from this 
 lower class m the school of knowledge, where we labour 
 under the many dangers and darknesses, the errors and 
 the incumbrances of flesh and blood ; and our conver- 
 sation shall be with angels and more illuminated spirits, 
 in the upper regions of the universe. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Of Disputes. 
 
 I. Under the general head of conversation for the 
 improvement of the mind, we may rank the practice of 
 disputing ; that is when two or more persons appear to 
 maintain difierent sentiments, and defend their own, or 
 oppose the other's opinion, in alternate discourse, by 
 some methods of argument. 
 
 il. As these disputes often arise in good earnest, 
 where the two contenders do really believe the differ- 
 ent propositions which they support ; so sometimes 
 they are appointed as mere trials of skill in academies 
 or schools, by the students ; sometimes they are prac- 
 tised, and that with apparent fervour in courts of judica- 
 ture by lawyers, ia order to gain the fees of their differ^ 
 
OF THE MIND. 97 
 
 ent clients, while both sides perhaps arc realljr of the 
 same sentiment with regard to the cause which is tried. 
 
 III. In common conversation, disputes are often 
 managed with^ifc^any forms of regularity or order, 
 and they turn to^ood or evil purposes, chiefly accor- 
 ding to the temper of the disputants. They may 
 sometimes be successful to search out truth, soriietimes 
 be effectual to maintain truth, and convince the mis- 
 taken, but at other times a dispute is a mere scene of 
 battle in wder to victory and vain triumph. 
 
 IV. There are some few general rules which should 
 be observed in all debates whatsoever, if we would 
 find out truth by them, or convince a friend of his error, 
 even though they be not managed according to any 
 settled form of disputation. And as there are almost 
 as many opinions and judgments of things as thers 
 are persons, so when several persons happen to meet 
 and confer together upon any subject, they are ready 
 to declare their different sentiments, and support them 
 by such reasonings as they are capable of. This is 
 called debating, or disputing, as is above described. 
 
 V. When persons begin a debate, they should always 
 take care that they are agreed in some general princi- 
 ples or propositions, which either more nearly or re- 
 motely affect the question in hand ; for otherwise they 
 have no foundation or hope of convincing each other ; 
 they must have some common ground to stand upon 
 while they maintain the contest. 
 
 When they find they agree in some remote proposi- 
 tion, then let them search farther, and inquire how 
 near they approach to each other's sentiments ; and 
 whatsoever propositions they agree in, let these lay a 
 foundation for the mutual hope of conviction. Hereby 
 you will be prevented from running at every turn to 
 some original and remote propositions and axioms, 
 which practice both entangles and prolongs a dispute. 
 As for instance, if there was a debate proposed between 
 a Protestant and a Papist, whether there be such a 
 place as purgatory ; let them remember that they both 
 agree in this point, that Christ has made satisfaction 
 or atonement for sin, and upon this ground let them 
 both stand, while they search out tlic controverted 
 doctrine of purgatory, by way of conference or debute. 
 
 VI. The question should be cleared from all doubt- 
 
98 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 ful terms and needless additions; and all things that 
 belon]^ to the question, should be expressed in plain and 
 intelligible language. This is so necessary a thing, 
 that without it, men will be expose^Wp such sorts of 
 ridiculous contests as was found on^lTay between the 
 two unlearned combatants, Sarto and Sutor, who as- 
 saulted and defended the doctrine of transubstantiation 
 with much Zealand violence ; but Latino happening to 
 come into their company, and inquiring the subject of 
 their dispute, asked each of them what he meant by 
 that long word transubstantiation. Sutor readily in- 
 formed him, that he understood bowing at the name of 
 Jesus ; but Sartor assured him that he meant nothing 
 but bowing at the high altar : " No wonder then," said 
 Latino, "that you cannot agree, when you neither 
 understand one another, nor the word about which you 
 contend."! tliink the whole family of the Sartors andSu- 
 tors would be wiser if they avoided such kind of debates 
 till they understood the terms better. But alas ! even 
 their wives carry on such conferences ; the other day 
 one was heard in the street explaining to her less 
 learned neighbour, the meaning of metaphysical sci- 
 ence ; and she assured her, that as physic was medicine 
 for the body, so metaphysics was medicine for the soul ; 
 upon this they went on to dispute the point, how far 
 the divine excelled the doctor. 
 
 Audilum admissi risuin lentatu amici ? . 
 Ridentem dioere verum quid vetat ? hor. 
 
 Can it be faulty to repeat 
 
 A dialogue that walk'd tfae street ? 
 
 Or can my gravest friends forbear 
 
 A laugh when such disputes they hear ? 
 
 VII. And not only the sense and meaning of the 
 words used in the question should be settled and ad- 
 justed between the disputants, but the precise point of 
 inquiry should be distinctly fixed ; the question in de- 
 bate should be limited precisely to its special extent, or 
 declared to be taken in its more general sense. As for 
 instance, if two men are contending whether civil gov- 
 ernment be of divine right or no; here it must be 
 observed, the question is not whether monaw^y in one 
 man, or a republic in multitudes of the jjeuple, or an 
 aristocracy in a few of the chiefs, is appointed of God 
 
OF THE MIND. 99 
 
 as necessary ; but whether civil government in its most 
 general sense, or in any |form whatsoever, is derived 
 from the will and appointment of God ? Again, the 
 point of inquirj^ should be limited further. Thus, the 
 question is not whether government comes from the 
 will of God by the light of divine revelation, for that 
 is granted ; but whether it be derived from the will of 
 God by the li^ht of reason too. This sort of specifica- 
 tion or limitation of the question, hinders and prevents 
 the disputers from wandering away from the precise 
 point of inc[uiry. 
 
 It is this trifling humour or dishonest artifice o^ 
 changing the question and wandering away from th^ 
 first point of debate, which gives endless length to dis- 
 putes, and causes both the disputants to part without 
 any satisfaction. And one chief occasion of it is this ; 
 when one of the combatants feels his cause run low and 
 fail, and is just'ready to be confuted and demolished, he 
 is tempted to step aside to avoid the blow, and betakes 
 him to a different question ; thus, if his. adversary be 
 not well aware of him, he begins to entrench himself 
 in a new fastness and holds out the siege with a new 
 artillerjr of thoughts and words. It is the pride of man % 
 which is the spring of this evil, and an unwillingness ^ 
 to yield up then* own opinions even to be overcome by 
 truth itself. 
 
 VIII. Keep this always therefore upon your mind as 
 an everlasting rule of conduct in your debates to find 
 out truth, that a resolute design, or even a warm affec- 
 tation of victory, is the bane of all real improvement, and 
 an effectual bar against the admission of the truth which 
 j'^u profess to seek. This works with a secret, but a 
 powerful and mischievous influence in every dispute, 
 unless we are much upon our guard. It appears in 
 frequent conversation ; every age, every sex, and each 
 party of mankind, are so fond of being in the right, 
 that they know not how to renounce this unhappy 
 preiudice, this vain love of victory. 
 
 When truth with bright evidence is ready to break 
 in upon a disputant, and to overcome his objections and 
 mistalies, how swift and ready is the mind to engage wit 
 and fancy, craft and subtility, to cloud and perplex and 
 puzzle the truth if possible I How eager is he to throw 
 in gome impertinent question to divert from the main 
 
100 IMPROVEBIEJNT 
 
 subject ! How swift to take hold of some occasional 
 word thereby to lead the discourse off from the point 
 in hand ! So much afraid is human nature of parting 
 with its errors, and being overcome by Ifuth. Just thus 
 a hunted hare calls up all the shifts that nature hath 
 taught her, she treads back her mazes, crosses and con- 
 founds her former track, and uses all possible methods 
 to divert the scent, when she is in danger of being sei- 
 zed and taken. Let puss practise what nature teaches ; 
 but could one imagine, that any rational being should 
 take such pains to avoid truth and to escape the im- 
 provement of its understanding ? 
 
 IX. When you come to a dispute in order to find 
 out truth, do not presume that you are certainly pos- 
 sessed of it beforehand. Enter the debate with a sin- 
 cere design of yielding to reason on which side soever 
 it appears. Use no subtle arts to cloud and entangle 
 the question ; hide not yourself in doubtful words and 
 phrases; do not affect little shifts and subterfuges to 
 avoid the force of an argument ; take a generous pleas- 
 ure to espy the first rising beams of truth, though it be 
 on the side of your opponent ; endeavour to remove 
 the little obscurities that hang about it, and suffer and 
 encourage it to break out into open and convincing 
 light ; that while your opponent perhaps may gain the 
 better of your reasonings, yet you yourself may triumph 
 over error, and I am sure that is a much more valuable 
 acquisition and victory. 
 
 X. Watch narrowly in every dispute, that your 
 opponent does not lead you unwardly to grant some 
 principle of the proposition, which will bring with it a 
 fatal consequence, and lead you insensibly into his sen- 
 timent, though it be far astray from the truth ; and by 
 this wrong step you will be," as it were, plunged into 
 dangerous errors before you are aware. Polonides in 
 free conversation, led Incauto to agree with him in 
 this plain proposition, that the blessed God has too 
 much justice m any case to punish* any being who is 
 id itself innocent; till he not only allowed it with an 
 lAthinking alacrity, but asserted it in most universal 
 and unguarded terms. A little after, Polonides came 
 in discourse to commend the virtues, the innocence, 
 
 * The word punish here signifies, to bring some natural jCvil upon a 
 person on account of moral evil done. 
 
OF THE MIND. 101 
 
 and the piety of our blessed Saviour ; and tl>ence in- 
 ferred, it was impossible that God should ever punish 
 so holy a person, who was never guilty of any crime ; 
 then incauto espied the snare, and found himself rob- 
 bed and defrauded of the great doctrine of the atone- 
 ment by the death of Christ, upon which he had 
 placed his immortal hopes, accoraing to the gospel. 
 
 This taught him to bethink himself what a danger- 
 ous concession he had made in so universal a manner, 
 that God would never punish any being who was inno- 
 cent, and he saw it needful to recal his words, or to 
 explain them better, by adding this restriction or hmi- 
 tation, viz. Unless this innocent being were some w ay 
 involved in another's sin, or stood as a voluntary surety 
 for the guilty; by this limitation, he secured the great 
 and blessed doctrine of the sacrifice of Christ for the 
 «ins of men, and learnt to be more cautious in his con- 
 cessions for time to come. 
 
 Two months ago, Fatalio had almost tempted his 
 friend Fidens to leave off prayer, and to abandon his 
 dependence on the Providence of God in the common 
 affairs of life, by obtaining of him a concession of the 
 like kind. Is it not evident to reason, says Fatalio, that 
 God's immense scheme of transactions in the universe, 
 was contrived and determined long before you and I 
 were born ? Can you imagine, my dear Fidens. that the 
 blessed God changes his origmal contrivances, and 
 makes new interruptions in the course of them, so often 
 as you and I want his aid, to prevent the little accidents 
 of life, or to guard us from them ? Can you suffer 
 yourself to be persuaded, that the great Creator of 
 this world takes care to support a bridge which was 
 quite rotten, and to make it stand firm a few minutes 
 longer till you had rode over it ? Or will he uphold a 
 falling tower while we two were passing by it, that such 
 worms as you and 1 are, might escape the ruin ? 
 
 But you say you prayed for his protection in the 
 morning, and he certainly hears prayer. I grant he 
 knows it, but are you so fond and weak, said he, as to 
 suppose that the universal Lord of all, had such a re- 
 gard to a word or two of your breath, as to niake 
 alterations in his own eternal scheme, uponthataccount? 
 Nor is there any other way whereby his providence 
 can preserve you in answer to prayer, but by creating 
 I ^ 
 
102 . IMPROVEMENT 
 
 such perpetual interruptions and changes in his own 
 conduct according to your daily behaviour. 
 
 I acknowledge, says Fidens, there is no other way 
 to secure the doctrine of divine providence, in all these 
 common affairs, and therefore I begin to doubt wheth- 
 er God does or ever will exert himself so particularly 
 in our little concerns. 
 
 Have a care, good Fidens, that you yield not too far ; 
 take heed lest you have granted too much to Fatalio. 
 Pray let me ask of you, could not the great God, who 
 grasijs and survt-ys all future and distant things in one 
 single view, could not he from the beginning, foresee 
 your morning prayer for his protection, and appoint all 
 second causes to concur for the support of that crazy 
 bridge ; or to make that old tower stand firm till you 
 had escaped the danger ? Or could not he cause alJ the 
 mediums to work, so as to make it fall before you came 
 near it? Can he not appoint all his own transactions 
 in the universe, and every event in the natural world, 
 in a way of perfect correspondence with his own 
 foreknowledge of all events, actions, and appearances of 
 the moral world in every part of it ? Can he not direct 
 every thing in nature, which is but his servant, to act 
 in perfect agreement with his eternal prescience of our 
 sins, or of our piety ? And hereby all the glory of 
 Providence, and our necessary dependence upon it by 
 faith and prayer, are as well secured, as if he interposed 
 to alter his own scheme every moment. 
 
 Let me ask again, did not ne in his own counsels or 
 decrees, appoint thunders, and lightnings, and earth- 
 quakes, to burn up and destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, 
 and turn them into a dead sea, just at the time when the 
 iniquities of those cities were raised to their supreme 
 height? Did he not ordain the fountains of the deep to 
 be hroken up, and overwhelming rains to fall down 
 from Heaven, just when a guilty world deserved to be 
 drowned ; while he took care for the security of right- 
 eous Noali, by an ark which would float on that very 
 deluge of waters ? Thus he can punish the criminal 
 when he pleases, and reward the devout worshipper 
 in the proper season, by his original and eternal schemes 
 of appointment, as well as if he interposed every mo- 
 ment anew. Take heed, Fidens, that you be not 
 tempted away by such sophism.s pf Fatalio, to with- 
 
OF THE MIND. 103 
 
 hold prayer from God, and to renounce your faith irt 
 his providence. 
 
 Remember this short and plain caution of the sub- 
 tile errors of men ; Let a snake but once thrust in his 
 ^head at some small unguarded fold of your garment, 
 and he will insensibly and unavoidably wind his whole 
 body into your bosom, and give you a pernicious 
 wound. 
 
 XI. On the other hand, when you have found your 
 opponent make any such concession as may turn to 
 your real advantage in maintaining the truth, be wise 
 and watchful to observe it, and make a happy improve- 
 mentof it. Rhapsodus has taken a great deal of pains 
 to detract from the honour of Christianity, by sly insin- 
 uations, that the sacred writers are perpetually promoting 
 virtue and piety by promises and threatenings ; whereas, 
 neither the fear of future punishment, nor the hope of 
 future reward, can possibly be called good affections, or 
 such as are the acknowledged springs and sources of 
 all actions truly good. He adds further, that this fear, 
 or this hope, cannot consist in reality with virtue or good- 
 ness, if it either stands as essential to any moral per- 
 formance, or as a considerable motive to any good 
 action ; and thus he would fain lead Christians to be 
 ashamed of the gospel of Christ, because oi^ its future 
 and eternal promises and threatenings, as being incon- 
 sistent with his notion of virtue ; for he supposes, that 
 virtue should be so beloved and practised for the sake 
 of its own, beauty and loveliness, that all other motives 
 arising from rewards or punishments, fear or hope, do 
 really take away just so much from the very nature of 
 virtue, as their influence reaches to ; and no part oi 
 those good practices are really valuable, but what arises 
 from the mere love of virtue itself, without any regard 
 to punishment or reward. 
 
 But observe, in two pages afterwards, he grants, that 
 this principle of fear of future punishment, and hope of 
 future reward, how mercenary and servile soever it 
 may be accounted, is yet in many circumstances a |;reat 
 advantage, security, and support to virtue ; especially 
 where there is danger of the violence of rage or lust, 
 or any counter working passion to controul and over- 
 come the good affections of the mind. 
 Now, the rule and practice of Christianity,or the gos- 
 
104 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 pel, as it is closely connected with future rewards and 
 punishmenls, may be well supported by this concession. 
 Pray, Rhapsodus, tell me, if every man in this present 
 life, by the violence, of some counter working passion, 
 may not have his good affections to virtue controlea^ 
 or overcome? May not, therefore, his eternal fears 
 and hopes be a great advantage, security, and support 
 to virtue in so dangerous a state and situation, as our 
 journey through this world towards a better? And 
 this is all that the defence of Christianity necessarily 
 requires. 
 
 And yet further, let me ask our rhapsodist, if you 
 have nothing else sir, but the beauty, and excellency, 
 and loveliness of virtue, to preach and flourish upon, 
 before such sorry and degenerate creatures, as the bulk 
 of mankind are, and you have no future rewards or pun- 
 ishments, with which to address their hopes and fears, 
 how many of these vicious wretches will you ever reclaim 
 from all their varieties of profaneness, intemperance,and 
 madness ? How many have you ever actually reclaim- 
 ed by this smooth, soft method, and these fine words ? 
 What has all that reasoning and rhetoric done, which 
 have been displayed by your predecessors, the Heathen 
 moralists, upon this excellency and beauty of virtue ? 
 What has it been able to do towards the reforming of 
 a sinful world ? Perhaps now and then, a man of better 
 natural mould, has been a little refined, and perhaps also, 
 there may have been here and there a man restrained 
 or recovered from injustice and knavery, from drunk- 
 enness, and lewdness, and vile debaucheries, by this 
 fair reasoning and philo«.ophv ; but have the passions 
 of revenge and envy, of ambition and pride, and the 
 inward secret vices of the mind, been mortified merely 
 by this philosophical language? Have any of these 
 men been made new creatures, men of real piety and 
 love to God ? 
 
 Go dress up all tiie virtues of human nature, in all 
 the beauties of your oratory, and declaim aloud on 
 the praise of social virtue, and the amiable qualities 
 of goodness, till your heart or your lungs ache, among 
 the looser beards of mankind, and you will ever 
 find as your Heathen fathers have done before, that 
 the wild passions and appetites of men are too violent 
 to be restrained by such mild and silken language. 
 
OF THE MIND. 105 
 
 You may as well build up a fence of straw and fea- 
 thers, to resist a cannon ball, or try to quench a flaming 
 grenado with a shell of fair water, as hope to succeed 
 m these attempts. But an eternal heaven, and an eternal 
 hell, carry divine force and power with them ; this doc- 
 trine from the mouth of Christian preachers, has begun 
 the reformation of multitudes ; this gospel has recover- 
 ed thousands amongthenationSjfrominiquity and death. 
 They have been awakened by these awful scenes to 
 begin religion, and afterwards, their virtue has impro- 
 ved itself into superior and more refined principles and 
 habits by divine grace, and risen to high and eminent 
 degrees, though not to a consummate state. The bless- 
 ed God knows human nature much better than Rhap- 
 sodus doth, and has throughout his word apjpointed a 
 more proper and more effectual method of adclress to it^ 
 by the passions of hope and fear, by punishments and 
 rewards. 
 
 If you read on four pages further in these writings, 
 you will find the author makes another concession. He 
 allows that the master of a family, using proper rewards 
 and gentle punishments towards his children, teaches 
 them goodness, and by this help instructs them in a 
 virtue, which afterwards they practise upon other 
 grounds, and Avithout thinking of a penalty or a bribe; 
 and this, savs he, is what we call a liberal education, 
 and a liberal service. 
 
 This new concession of that author may also be very 
 happily improved in favour of Christianity. What arc 
 the best of men in this life ? They are by no means per- 
 fect in virtue: we are all but children here under the great 
 Master of the family, and he is pleased, by hopes and 
 fears, by mercies and corrections, to instruct us in virtue, 
 and to conduct us onward towards the sublimer and 
 more perfect practice of it in the future world, where 
 it shall be performed, as in his own language, perhaps 
 without thinking of penalties and bribes. And since 
 he hath allowed that this conduct may be called a liberal 
 education and a liberal service, let Christianity then be 
 indulged the title of a liberal education also, and it is 
 admirably fitted for sueh frail and sinful creatures, while 
 they are training up towards the sublimer virtues of 
 the heavenly state. 
 
 XII. When you are engaged in a dispute with a per- 
 son of very different principles from yourself, and you 
 
106 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 cannot find any ready way to prevail with him to em- 
 brace the truth by principles which you both freely ac- 
 knowledge, you may fairly make use of his own prin- 
 ciples to show him hts mistake, and thus convince or 
 silence him from his own concessions. 
 
 If your opponent should be a Stoic philosopher, or 
 a Jew, you may pursue your argument in defence of 
 some Christian doctrine or duty against such a dispu- 
 tant, by axioms or laws borrowed either from Zeno or 
 Moses. And though you do not enter into the inauiry 
 how many of the lav>'s of Moses are abrogated, or 
 whether Zeno was right or wrong in his philosophy, yet 
 if from the principles and concession of your opponent, 
 you can support your argument for the gospel of Christ, 
 this has been always counted a fair treatment of an ad- 
 versary, and it is called argumentum ad honiinetn, or 
 ratio et concessis. St. Paul sometimes makes use of 
 this sort of disputation when he talks with Jews or 
 Heathen philosophers; and at least he silences if not 
 convinces them , which is sometimes necessary to be 
 done against an obstinate and clamorous adversary, 
 that just honour might be paid to truths which he knew 
 were divine, and that the only true doctrine of salvation 
 mi^ht be confirmed and propagated among sinful and 
 dying mett. 
 
 XIII. Yet great care must he taken lest your debates 
 break in upon your passions, and awaken them to take 
 
 Eart in the controversy. When the opponent pushes 
 ard, and gives just and mortal wounds to our opinions, 
 our passions are very apt to feel the strokes, and to rise 
 in resentment and defence. Self is so mingled with the 
 sentiments which we have chosen, and hassuch a tender 
 feeling of all the opposition which is made to them, that 
 personal brawls are very ready to come in as seconds, 
 to succeed and finish the dispute of opinions. Then 
 noise and clamour and folly appear in all their shapes, 
 and chase reason and truth out of sight. 
 
 How unhappy is the case of frail and wretched man- 
 kind in this dark and dusky state of strong passion and 
 glimmering reason ? How ready are we, when our pas- 
 sions are engaged in the dispute, to consider more Vthat 
 loads of nonsense and reproach we can lay upon our 
 opponent, than what reason and truth require in the 
 contrQversy itself. Dismal are the consequences man- 
 
OF THE MIND. 1^7 
 
 kind are too often involved in by this evil principle ; h 
 is this common and dangerous practice that carries the 
 heart aside from all that is fair and honest in our 
 search after truth, or the propagation of it in the world- 
 One would wish from one's very souj, tliat none of 
 the Christian fathers had been guilty of such follies as 
 these. 
 
 But St. Jerome fairly confesses this evil principle, in 
 his apology for himself to Pammachius, that he had not 
 so much regarded what was exactly to be spoken in 
 the controversy he had in hand, as what was fit to lay 
 a load on Jovinian. And indeed, I fear this was 
 the vile custom of many of the writers, even in the 
 church affairs, of those times. But it will be a double 
 scandal upon us in our more enlightened age, if we 
 will allow ourselves in a conduct so criminai and dis- 
 honest. Happy souls, which keep such a sacred do- 
 minion over their inferior and animal powers, and all 
 the influences of pride and secular interest, that the 
 sensitive tumults, or these vicious influences, never 
 rise to disturb the superior and better operations of the 
 reasoning mind ! 
 
 XIV. These general directions are necessary, or at 
 least useful, in all debates %vhatsoever, whether they 
 arise in occasional conversation, or are appointed at 
 any certain time or place ; whether they are managed 
 with or without any formal rules to govern them. But 
 there are three sorts of disputation,*in which there are 
 some forms and orders observed, and which are distin- 
 guished by these three names, viz. Socraiic, Forensic, 
 and Academic, i. e. the disputes of the schools. 
 
 Concerning each of these it may not be improper to 
 discourse a little, and give a few particular directions or 
 remarks about them. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Tlic Socratical Way of Dispuiaiion, 
 
 1. X HIS method of dispute derives its name from 
 Socrates, by whom it was practised, and by other phi- 
 losophers in his age, long before Aristotle invented the 
 particular"! forms of syllogism in mood and figure, 
 which are now used in scholastic disputations. 
 
108 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 II. The Socratical way is managed by questions and 
 answers in such ;i manner as this, viz. If I would lead a 
 person into the belief of a heaven and a hell, or a future 
 state of rewards and punishments, 1 might begin in 
 some such manner of inquiry, and suppose the most 
 obvious and easy answers. 
 
 Qiiest. Docs not God govern the world ? 
 
 JIns. Surely he that made it governs it. 
 
 Quest. Is not God both a good and righteous gov- 
 ernor. 
 
 »4ns. Both these characters doubtless belong to him. 
 
 Quest. What is the true notion of a good and right- 
 eous Governor ? 
 
 ^7is. That he punishes the wicked and rewards the 
 good. 
 
 Quest. Are the good always rewarded in this life ? 
 
 w^ns. No surely, for many virtuous men are misera- 
 ble here, and greatly afflicted. 
 
 Quest. Are the wicked always punished in this life ? 
 
 •6!rts. No certainly, for many of them live without 
 sorrow, and some of the vilest of men are often raised 
 to great riches and honour. 
 
 Quest. Wherein then doth God make it appear that 
 he is good and righteous ? 
 
 Ans. 1 own there is but little appearance of it on 
 earth. 
 
 Quest Will there not be a time then when the tables 
 shah be turned, and the scene of things chan^^ed, since 
 God governs mankind righteously ? 
 
 Ans. Doubtless, there must be a proper time, where- 
 in God will make that goodness and that righteousness 
 to appear. 
 
 Quest. If this be not before their death, how can it 
 be done ? 
 
 Ans. I can think of no other way but by supposing 
 man to have some existence after this life. 
 
 Quest. Are you not convinced then that there must 
 be a state of reward and punishment after death ? 
 
 Jins. Yes, surely, 1 now see plainly that ihe goodness 
 and righteousness of God, as Governor of the world, 
 necessHrily reauire it. 
 
 HI. No'w the advantages of this method are very 
 considerable. 
 
 (I.) It represents the form of a dialogue or common 
 
OF THE MIND. 109 
 
 tonvcrsation, which is a much more easy, more pleas- 
 ant, and a more sprightly way of instruction, and more 
 fit to excite the attention, and sharpen the penetration 
 of the learner, tharif* solitary reading, or silent attention 
 to a lecture. Man being a sociable creature, delights 
 more in conversation, and learns better this way, if it 
 could always be wisely and hapj:)ily practised. 
 
 (2.) This method has something very obliging in it, 
 and carries a very humble and condescending air, when 
 he that instructs seems to be the inquirer, and seeks in- 
 formation from him who learns. 
 
 (3.) It leads the learner into the knowledge of truth 
 as it were by his own invention, which is a very pleas- 
 ing thing to human nature; and by questions perti- 
 nently and artificially proposed, it does as effectually 
 draw him on to discover his own mistakes, which he 
 is much more easily persuaded to relinquish when he 
 seems to have discovered them himself. 
 
 (4.) It is managed in a great measure in the form of the 
 most easy reasoning, always arising from something 
 asserted or known in the foregoing answer, and so pro- 
 ceeding to inquire something unknown in the following 
 question, which again makes way for the next answer. 
 Now such an exercise is ver}^ alluring and entertaining 
 to the understanding, while its own reasoning power§f 
 are all along employed ; and tlxat without labour or 
 difficulty, because the querist finds out and propose* 
 all the intermediate ideas or middle terms. 
 
 ly. There is a method very near akin to this, which 
 has much obtained of late, viz. writing controversies 
 by questions only, or confirming or refuting any position, 
 or persuading to or dehorting from any practice, by 
 the mere proposal of queries. The ajiswer to them is 
 supposed to be so plain and so necessary, that they are 
 not expressed, because the query itself carries a con- 
 vincing argument in it, and seems to determine what 
 the answer must be. 
 
 T. If Christian catechisms could be framed in thfe 
 manner of a Socratical dispute by question and answer, 
 it would wonderfully enlighten the minds of children, 
 and it would improve their intellectual and reasoning 
 powers, at the same time that it leads them into the 
 knowledge of religion ; and it is upon one account 
 well suited to the capacity of children ; for the questions 
 K. 
 
110 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 may be pretty numerous, and the querist must not 
 proceed too swiftly towards the determination of his 
 point proposed, tliat he may with more ease, with 
 orighter evidence, and with surer success, draw the 
 learner on to assent to those principles, step by step, 
 from whence the final conclusion will naturally arise. 
 The only inconvenience would be this, that if children 
 were to reason out all their way, entirely into the 
 knowledge of every part of their religion, it Avould 
 draw common catechisms into too large a volume for 
 their leisure, attention, or memory. 
 
 Yet those who explain their catechisms to them may, 
 by due application and forethought, instruct them m 
 this manner. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Of Forensic Disputes. 
 
 I. A HE Forum was a public place in Rome where 
 lawyers and orators made their speeches before the 
 proper judge in matters of property, or in criminal 
 cases, to accuse or excuse, to complain or defend ; 
 thence all sorts of disputations in public assemblies or 
 courts of justice, where several persons make their dis- 
 tinct speeches for or against any person or thing what- 
 soever, but more especially in civil matters, may come 
 under the name of Forensic Disputes. 
 
 II. This is practised not only in the courts of judi- 
 cature, where a single person sits to judge of the truth 
 or goodness of any cause, and to determine accordinjj 
 to the weight of reasons on either side ; but it is used 
 also in political senates or parliaments, ecclesiastical 
 synods, and assemblies of various kinds. 
 
 Jn these assemblies, generally one person is chosen 
 chairman, or moderator, not to give a determination to 
 the controversy, but chiefly to keep the several speak- 
 ■ ers to the rules of order and decency in their conduct ; 
 but the final determination of the cjuestions arises from 
 the majority of opinions or votes in the assembly, ac- 
 cording as they are or ought to be sv^ayed by the supe- 
 rior weight of reason appearing in the several speeche? 
 that are made. 
 
OF THE MIND. HI 
 
 Hi. The metdiod of proceeding is usually in some 
 such form as this. The first person who speaks when 
 the court is set, opens the case either more briefly or 
 at large, and proposes the case to thejudge or the chair- 
 map, or moderator of the assembly,^ and gives his own 
 reasons for his opinion in the case proposed. 
 
 IV. This person is succeeded by one, or perhaps two, 
 or several more, who paraphrase on the same subject, 
 and argue on the same side of the question ; they con- 
 firm what the first has spoken, and urge new reasons to 
 enforce the same ; then those who are of a different opin- 
 ion etand up and make their several speeches in a suc- 
 cession, opposing the cause which othershavemaintain- 
 ed, giving their reasons against it, and endeavouring to 
 refute the arguments whereby the first speakers have 
 supported it. 
 
 V. After this, one and another rises up to make their 
 replies, to vindicate or to condemn, to establish or to 
 confute what has been offered before, on each side of 
 tlie question ; till at last according to the rules, orders, 
 or customs of the court or assejxibly, the controversy- 
 is decided, either by a single judge, or the suffrage of 
 the assembly. 
 
 VI. Where the question or matter in debate consists 
 of several parts, after it is once opened by the first or 
 second speaker, sometimes those who follow take each 
 of them a particular part of the debate, according to 
 their inclination or their prior agreement, and apply 
 themselves to argue upon that single point only, that 
 so the whole complexion of the debate may not be 
 thrown into confusion by the variety of subjects, if 
 every speaker should handle all the subjects of debate,. 
 
 VII. Before the final sentence of determination is 
 given, it is usual to have the reasons and arguments 
 whicjpi have been offered on both sides, summed up 
 and represented in a more compendious manner ; and 
 this is done either by the appointed judge of the courts, 
 or the chairman, or some noted person in the assembly, 
 that so judgment may proceed upon the fullest survey 
 of the whole subject, that as far as possible in human 
 affairs, nothing may be done contrary to truth or 
 justice. 
 
 VIII. As this is a practice in which multitudes of 
 gentlemen, besides these of tlie learned professions, 
 
11£ DIPROVEMENT 
 
 msy be engaged, at least in their maturer years 'of life, 
 so it would be a very proper and useful thing to intro- 
 duce this ^•ustom into our academies, viz. to propose 
 cases, and let the students debate them in a Forensic 
 manner in the presence of their tutors. There was 
 something of this kind practised by the Roman youth 
 in their schools, in order to train them up' for orators, 
 both in the forum and in the senate. Perhaps Juvenal 
 gives some hints of it when he says, 
 
 et nos 
 
 Consilium dedimus Syll(B,privaiusutaUum 
 Dormiret Sat. 1. 
 
 Where with men-boys I strove to get renown, 
 
 Advisinj; Syii'a to a private gown, 
 That lie might sleep the sounder. 
 
 Sometimes these were assigned to the boys as single 
 subjects of a theme or declamation ; so the same poet 
 speaks sarcastically to Hannibal, 
 
 ;./ dentens, et saras curre per Alpes, ' 
 
 Vt puerisplaceasetdedamatiojias. Sal. 10. 
 
 Go climb the ru£:ged Alps, ambitious fool, 
 To please the boys, and be a theme at school. 
 
 See more of this matter in Kennet's antinuities of 
 Rome, in the second Essay on the Roman Education. 
 
 CHAP. XHI. 
 
 Of Academic or Scholastic Disputation. 
 
 X HE common methods in which disputes are mana- 
 ged in schools of learning are these, viz. 
 
 L The tutor appoints a question in some of the sci- 
 ences, to be debated amongst his students ; one of them 
 undertakes to affirm or deny the question, and defend 
 his assertion or negation, and to answer all objections 
 against ; he is called the respondent ; and the rest of the 
 students in the same class, or who pursue the same 
 science, are th.- opponents, who are appointed to dis- 
 pute or raise objections against the propositions thus 
 affirmed or denied. 
 
OF THE MIND. 113 
 
 II. Each of the students successively in their turn 
 becomes the rcspoiideifror the defender of that prop- 
 osition, while the rest oppuse it also successively in 
 their turns. ^ 
 
 III. It is the business of trie respondent to write a 
 thesis in Latin, or short discourse on the question pro- 
 posed ; and he either alfirms or denies the tjuestion ac- 
 cording to f!he opinion of the tutor, which is supposed 
 to be the truth, and he reads it at the beginning of the 
 dispute. 
 
 IV. In his discourse, (which h written with as great 
 accuracy as the youth is capable of) he explains tha 
 terms of the question, frees them from all ambiguity, 
 fixes their sense, declares the trye intent and meaning of 
 the qu€ stion itself, sepaJ|||^s it from other questions with 
 which it may have be^aBbrnplicated, and distinguishes 
 it from other questions which may happen to be akin to 
 it, and then pronounces in the rfegative or affirmative 
 concerning it. 
 
 V. When this is done, then i» the second part of his 
 discourse, he gives his own strongest arguments to con- 
 firm the proposition he has laid down, i. e. to vindicate 
 his own side of the question ; but he does not usually 
 proceed to represent the objections against it, and to 
 solve or answer them ; for it is ttie business of the 
 other students to raise objections in disputing. 
 
 VI. Note. In some schools the respondent is admitted 
 to talk largely upon the question, with many flourishes 
 and illustrations, to introduce great authorities from 
 ^ncienl and modern writings for the support of it, and 
 to scatter Latin reproaches in abundance on aH those 
 who are of a different sentiment. But this is not always 
 permitted, nor should it indeed be ever indulged, lest 
 it teach youth to reproach, instead of reasoning. 
 
 VH. When the respondent has read over his thesis 
 in the school, the junior student makes an objection, 
 and draws it ug in* the regular form of a syllogism ; the 
 respondent rejieats^the objection, and either dfenies the 
 major or minor proposition directly, or he distinguish- 
 es upoaiiome wora or phrase in the major or minor, 
 and shows in what sense the proposition may bt true, 
 but that sense does not affect the question ; and then 
 declares that in the sense which affctjts the pre.iy:t 
 
114 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 question, the proposition is not true, and consequently 
 he denies it. *^ 
 
 VIII. Then the opponent proceeds by another syl- 
 logism to vindicate the proposition that is denied ; again 
 the respondent answers Wy denying or distinguishing. 
 
 Thus the disputation goes on in a series of success- 
 ion of syllogisms and answers, till the objector is silen- 
 ced, and has no more to say. 
 
 IX. When he can go no further, the next student 
 begins to propose his objection, and then the third and 
 the fourth, even to the senior, who is the last opponent. 
 
 X. During this time, the tutor sits in the chair as pres- 
 ident or moderator, to see that the rules of disputation 
 and decency be observed on both sides ; and to admon- 
 ish each disputant of any irrejaalarity in their conduct. 
 Hift work is also to illustrate md explain the answer or 
 distinction of the respondenrKvhere it is obscure, to 
 strengthen it where it is weak, and to correct it where 
 it is false ; and when the respondent is pinched with a 
 strong objection, and is at a loss for an answer, the 
 moderator assists him, and suggests some answer to 
 the objection of the opponent, in defence of the ques- 
 tion, according to his own opinion or sentiment. 
 
 XI. In public disputes, where the opponents and 
 respondents choose their own side of the question, the 
 moderator's work is not to favour either disputant ; 
 but he only sits as president to see that the laws of dis- 
 putation be observed, and a decorum maintained. 
 
 XII. Now the laws of disputation relateeithertothe 
 opponent, or to the respondent, or to both. 
 
 The laws obliging the opponent are these : 
 
 1. That he must directly contradict the propositions 
 of the respondent, and not merely attack any of the 
 arguments whereby the respondent has supported 
 that proposition ; for it is one thing to confute a aingle 
 argument of the respondent, and another to confute 
 the thesis itself. 
 
 2. {Which is akin to the former.) He must contra- 
 dict or oppose the very sense and intention of the prop- 
 osition as the respondent has stated it, and nojLinerely 
 oppose the words of the thesis in any other sctUb ; for 
 this would be the way to plunge the dispute into am- 
 biguity and darkness, to talk beside the question, to 
 
OF THE MIND. 115 
 
 wrangje about words, and to attack a proposition differ- 
 ent from what the respondent has espoused, which is 
 called ignoratio eltncla. 
 
 3. He must propose his argumenta in a plain, short, 
 and syllogistic form, according to the rules of logic, 
 without flying to fallacies or sophisms ; and as far as 
 may be, he should use categorical syllogisms. 
 
 4. Though the respondent may be attacked either 
 upon a point of his own concession, which is called ar- 
 gumentum ex concessis, or by reducing him to an absur- 
 dity, which is called reductio ad ahsurdum, yet it is the 
 neatest, the most useful, and the best sort of disputa- 
 tion, where the opponent draws his objections from 
 the nature of the question itself. 
 
 5. Where the respondent denies any proposition, the 
 opponent, if he proceed, must directly vindicate and 
 confirm that proposition, i. e. he must ?nake that prop- 
 osition the conclusion of his next syllogism. 
 
 6. Where the respondent limits or distinguishes any 
 proposition, the opponent must directly prove his own 
 
 Eroposition in that sense, and according to that mem- 
 er of the distinction in which the respondent denied it. 
 XHl. The laws that oblige the respondent are these : 
 1. To repeat the argument of the opponent in the 
 very same words in wliich it was proposed, before he 
 attempts to answer it. 
 
 £. If the syllogism be false in the logical form of it, 
 he must discover the fault according to the rules of 
 logic. 
 
 3. If the argument does not directly and effectually 
 oppose his thesis, he must show this mistake, and make 
 it appear that his thesis is safe, even though the argu- 
 ment of the opponent be admitted ; or at least, that the 
 argument does only aim at it collaterally, or at a 
 distance, and not directly overthrow it, or conclude 
 against it. x 
 
 4. Where the matter of the opponent's objection is 
 faulty in any part of it, the respondent must grant what is 
 true in it, he must deny what is false, he must distinguish 
 or limit the proposition which is ambiguous or doubt- 
 ful ; and then granting the sense in which it is ti'ue, he 
 must deny the sense in which it is false. 
 
 5. If a hypothetic proposition be false, the respon* 
 
116 LMPROVEMENT 
 
 (lent must deny the consequence ; if a disjunctive, he 
 must deny the disjunction ; if a categoric or relative, 
 ]ae must simply deny it. 
 
 6. It is sometimeg allowed for the respondent to use 
 an indirect answer after he has answered directly ; and 
 he may also show how the opponent's argument may 
 be retorted against himself. 
 
 XIV. The laws that oblige both disputants are these : 
 
 1. Sometimes it is necessary there should be a men- 
 tion of certain general principles, in which they both 
 agree, relating to the question, that so they may not dis- 
 pute on those things which either are or ought to have 
 Deen first granted on both sides. 
 
 2. When the state of the controversy is well known, 
 and plainly determined and agreed, it must not be al- 
 tered by either dsputant in the course of the disputa- 
 tion ; and the respondent especially should keep a 
 watchful eye on the opponent, in this matter. 
 
 3. Let neither party invade the province of the other ; 
 especially let the respondent take heed that he does not 
 turn opponent, excei)t in retorting the argument upon 
 his adversary after a direct response ; and even this rs 
 allpwed only as an illustration or confirmation of his 
 own response. 
 
 4. Let each wait with jiatience till the other has done 
 speaking. It is a piece of rudeness to interrupt another 
 in his speech. 
 
 Yet though the disputants have not this liberty, the 
 moderator may do it, when either of the disputants 
 break the rules, and he may interpose so far as to keep 
 them in order. 
 
 XV. It must be confessed, there are some advanta- 
 ges to be attained by academical disputations. It gives 
 vigour and briskness to the mind thus exercised, and 
 relieves the languor of private study and meditation. 
 It sharpens the wit and all the inventive powers. It 
 makes the thoughts active, and sends them on all sides 
 to find arguments and answers both for opposition and 
 defence. It gives opportunity of viewing the subject 
 of discourse on all sides, and of learning what incon- 
 veniences, ditHculties, and objections, attend particu- 
 lar opinions. It furnishes the soul with various occa- 
 
 ' aions of starting such thought^ as otherwise would 
 
OF THE MIND. 117 
 
 never have come into the mind. It makes a student 
 more expert in attacking and refuting an error, as 
 well as in vindicating a truth. It instructs the scholar 
 in the various methods of warding off the force of ob- 
 jections, and of discovering and refelling the subtle 
 tricks of sophisters. It procures also a freedom and 
 readiness of speech, and raises the modest and diffident 
 genius to a due degree of courage. '' 
 
 XVI. But there are some very grievous inconvenien- 
 ces that may sometimes overbalance all these advanta- 
 ges. For many young students, by a constant habit 
 of disputing, grow impudent and audacious, proud and 
 disdainful, talkative and impertinent, and render them- 
 selves intolerable by an obstinate humor of maintai ning 
 whatever they have asserted, as well as by a spirit of 
 contradiction, opposing almost everything that they 
 hear. The disputation itself often awakens the passions 
 of ambition, emulation, and anger ; it carries away the 
 mind from that calm and sedate temper which is so 
 necessary to contemplate truth. 
 
 XVII. It is evident also, that by frequent exercises 
 of this sort, wherein opinions true and false are argued, 
 
 and refuted, on both sides, the mind of man 
 
 supported, 
 is led by ir 
 
 by insensible degrees to an uncertain and fluctuat- 
 ing temper, and falls into danger of a sceptical humour, 
 which never comes to an establishment in any doctrines. 
 Many persons by these means become much more ready 
 to oppose whatsoever is offered in searching out truth ; 
 they nardly wait till they have read or heard the sen- 
 timent of any person, before their heads are busily em- 
 ployed to seek out arguments against it. They grow 
 naturallj sharp in finding out difficulties ; and by indul- 
 ging this humour, they converse with the dark and 
 doubtful parts of a subject so long, till they almost ren- 
 der themselves incapable of receiving the full evidence 
 of a proposition and acknowledging the light of truth. 
 It has some tendency to make a youth a carping critic, 
 rather than a judicious man. 
 
 XVIII. 1 would add yet further, that in these dispu- 
 tations the respondent is generally appointed to main- 
 tain the supposed truth, that is, the tutor's opinion. But 
 all the opponents are busy and warmly engaged in find- 
 ing arguments against the truth. Now if a sprightly 
 
iia IMPROVEMENT 
 
 young genius happens to imagine his argument so WP.ll 
 as to puzzle and gravel the respondent, and perhaps to 
 perplex the moderator a little too, he is soon tempted t© 
 suppose his argument unanswerable, and the truth en- 
 tirely to lie on his side. The pleasure which he takes 
 in having found a sophism which has great appearances 
 of reason, and which he himself has managed with snch 
 success, becomes perhaps a strong prejudice to engage 
 his inward sentiments in favour of his argument, and in 
 opposition to the supposed truth. 
 
 XIX. Yet perhaps it may be possible to reduce scho- 
 lastic disputations under such a guard as may in some 
 measure prevent most of the abuses of them, and the 
 unhapjiy events that too often attend them ; for it is a 
 pity that an exercise which has some valuable benefits 
 attending it should be utterly thrown away, if it be 
 possible to secure young mindis against the abuse of it ; 
 for which purpose, some of these directions may seem 
 proper : 
 
 XX. General directions for scholastic disputes : 
 
 1. Never dispute upon mere trifles, things that are 
 utterly ciseless to be known, under a vain pretence of 
 sharpening the wit ; for the same advantage may be 
 derived from solid and useful subjects, and thus two 
 happy ends may be attained at once. Or if such dis- 
 putations are always thought dangerous in important 
 matters, let them be utterly abandoned. 
 
 £. Do not make infinite and unsearchable things the 
 matter of dispute, nor such propositions as are made 
 up of mere words without ideas, lest it lead young per- 
 sons into a most unhappy habit of talking without a 
 meaning, alid boldly to determine upon things that are 
 hardly within the reach of human capacity. 
 
 3. Let no obvious and known truths, or some of the 
 most plain and certain propositions be bandied about 
 in a disputation, for a mere trial of skill ; for he that 
 opposes them in this manner will be in danger of con- 
 tracting a habit of opposing all evidence, will acquire a 
 spirit of contradiction, and pride himself in the power 
 of resisting the brightest light, and fighting against the 
 strongest proofs ; this will insensibly injure the mind, 
 and tends greatly to an universal scepticism. 
 
 Upon tire whole, therefore, the most proper stibjects 
 
OF THE MIND. 119 
 
 of dispute seems to be, those questions \Yhich are not of 
 the very highest importance and certainty, nor of the 
 meanest and trifling kind ; but ratlier the intermediate 
 questions between these two ; and there is a large suf- 
 hciency of them in the sciences. But this I put as a 
 mere proposal, to be determined by the more learned 
 and prudent. 
 
 4. It wouldjbe well if every dispute could be so ordered 
 as to be a means of searching out truth, and not to gain 
 a triumph. Then each disputant might come to the 
 work without bias and prejudice, with a desire of truth, 
 and not with ambition of glory and victory. 
 
 Nor should the aim and design of the disputant be to 
 avoid artfully and escape the difficulties which the op- 
 ])onent offers, but to discuss them thoroughly, and solve 
 them fairly, if they are capable of being solved. 
 
 Again, let the opponent be solicitous not to darken 
 and confound the resbonses that are given him by fresh 
 subtilities ; but let him bethink himself whether they 
 are not a just answer to the objection, and be honestly 
 ready to perceive and accept them, and yield to them. 
 
 5. For this end let both the respondent and opponent 
 use the clearest and most distinct and expressive lan- 
 guage in which they can clothe their thoughts. Let 
 them seek and practise brevity and perspicuity on both 
 sides, without long declamations, tedious circumlocu- 
 tions, and rhetorical flourishes. 
 
 If there happen to be any doubt or obscurity on either 
 side, let neither the one nor the other ever refuse to give 
 a fair explication of the words they use. 
 
 6. They should not indulge ridicule, either of persons 
 or things, in their disputations. They should abstain 
 from all banter and jest, laughter and merriment. 
 These are things that break in upon that philosophical 
 gravity, sedateness and serenity of tempe»', which 
 ought to be observed in every search after truth. How- 
 ever an argument on some subjects may be sometimes 
 clothed with a little pleasantry, yet a jest or witticism 
 should never be used instead of an argument, nor should 
 it ever be suffered to pass for a real and solid proof. 
 
 But especially if the subject be sacred or divin^e, and 
 have nothing in it comical' or ridiculous, all ludicrous 
 turns, and jocose or comical airs, should be entirely 
 excluded, lest young minds become tinctured with a 
 
120 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 silly and profane sort of ridicule, and learn to jest and 
 trifle Avlth the awful solemnities of religion. 
 
 7. Nor should sarcasm and reproach, or insolent 
 language, ever be used amon^ fair disputants. Turn not 
 off from things to speak of persons. Leave all noisy 
 contests, all immodest clamours, brawling language, 
 and especially all personal scandal and scurrility to the 
 meanest part of the vulgar world. Let your manner 
 be all candour and gentleness, patient and ready to 
 hear, humblj'^ zealous to inform and be informed ; you 
 should be free and pleasant in every ansAver and beha- 
 viour, rather like well bred gentlemen in polite conver- 
 sation, than like noisy and contentious wranglers. 
 
 8. If the opponent sees victory to incline to his side> 
 let him be content to show the force of his argument 
 to the intelligent part of the company, without too 
 importunate and petulent demands of an answer, and 
 without insulting over his antagonist, or putting the 
 modesty of the respondent to the blush. Nor let the 
 respondent triumph over the opponent when he is silent 
 and replies no more. On which side soever victory 
 declares itself, let neither of them manage with sucn 
 unpleasing and insolent airs, as to awaken those evil 
 passions of pride, anger, shame, or resentment, on ei- 
 ther side, which alienate the mind from truth, render 
 it obstinate in the defence of an error, and never suffer 
 it to part Avith any of its old opinions. 
 
 In short, when truth evidently appears on either side, 
 let them learn to yield to convictien. When either 
 party is at a nonplus, let them confess the difficulty, 
 and desire present assistance, or further time and re- 
 tirement to consider of the matter, and not rack theip 
 present invention to find out httle shifts to avoid the 
 force and evidence of truth. 
 
 9. Might it not be a fairer practice, in order to attain, 
 the best ends of disputation, and to avoid some of the: 
 ill effects of it, if the opponents were sometimes engaged 
 on the side of truth, and produced their arguments in 
 opposition to error ? And what if the respondent was 
 appointed to support the error, and defend it as well 
 as he could, till he was forced to yield, at least to those 
 arguments of the opponents which appear to be really 
 just, strong, and unanswerable? 
 
 In this practice the thesis of the respondent should 
 
OF THE MIND. 121 
 
 I only be a fair stating of the question, with some of the 
 chief objections against the truth proposed and solved. 
 
 Perhaps this practice might not so easily be perverted 
 and abused to raise a cavilling, disputative, and sceptical 
 temper in tlie minds of youth. 
 
 I confess, iri this method which I now propose, there 
 would be one amiong the students, viz. the respondent, 
 always engaged in the sup,;ort of supposed error ; but 
 all the rest would be exercising their talents in arguing 
 for the supposed truth ; whereas, in the common 
 methods of disputation in the schools, especially where 
 the students are numerous, each single student is per- 
 petually employed to oppose the truth, and vindicate 
 error, except once in a long time, when it comes to his 
 turn to be respondent. 
 
 10. Upon the whole, it seems necessary that these 
 methods of disputation should be learnt in the schools^ 
 in order to teach students better to defend truth, and 
 to refute error, both in writing and conversation, where 
 the scholastic forms are utterly neglected. 
 
 But after all, the advantage which youth may gain 
 by disputation depends much on the tutor or modera- 
 tor ; he should manage with such prudence, both in 
 the disputation and at the end of it, as to make all the 
 disputants knoAv the very point of controversy wherein 
 it consists ; he should manifest the fallacy of sophistical 
 objections, and confirm the solid arguments and an- 
 swers. This might teach students how to make the 
 art of disputation useful for the searching out the truth 
 and the defence of it, that it may not be learned and 
 practised only as an art of wrangling, which reigned in 
 the schools several hundred years, and divested the 
 growing reason of youth of its best hopes and im- 
 provements. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Of Study, or Meditation. 
 
 I. It has been proved and established in some of the 
 foregoing chapters, that neither our own observations, 
 nor our reading the labours of the learned, nor the 
 attendance on the best lectures of instruction, nor en-i 
 joying the brightest conversation, can ever make a 
 I4 
 
U2 IMPROVEMEJST 
 
 man truly knowing and wise, without the labours of 
 his own reason in surveying, examining, and judging, i 
 concerning aJl subjects, upon the best evidence he can 
 acquire. A good genius, or sagacity of thought, a hap- 
 py judgunent, a capacious memory, and large oppor- 
 runities of observation and converse, will do much of 
 themselves toward the cultivation of the mind, where 
 they are wdl improved ; but where, to the advantage 
 of learned lectures, living instructions, and well chosen 
 books, diligence and study are superadded, this man 
 has all human aids concurring to raise him to a supe- 
 rior degree of wisdom and knowledge. 
 
 Under the preceeding heads of discourse, it has been 
 already declared how our own meditation and reflec- 
 tion should examine, cultivate, and improve, all other 
 methods and advantages of enric^iing the undei'stand- 
 ing. What remains in this chapter, is to give some 
 further occasional hints how to employ our own 
 thoughts, what sort of subjects we should meditate on, 
 and in what manner we should regulate our studies, 
 and how we may improve our judgment, so as in the 
 most effectual and compendious way to attain such 
 knowledge as may be most useful for every man in his 
 circumstances of life, and particularly for those of the 
 learned, professions. 
 
 II. The first direction for youth is this, learn be- 
 times to distinguish between words and things. Get 
 clear and plain ideas of the things you are set to study. 
 Do not content yourselves with mere words and names, 
 lest your laboured improvements only amass a heap of 
 unintelligible phrases, and you feed upon husks instead 
 of kernels. This rule is of unknown use in evdry sci- 
 ence. 
 
 But the greatest and most common danger, is in the 
 sacred science of theology, where settled terms and 
 phrases have been pronounced divine and orthoJox, 
 ■which jet have had no meaning in them. The scho- 
 lastic divinity would furnish us with numerous instan- 
 ces of this folly ; and yet for many ages, all truth and 
 all heresy have been determined' by such senseless 
 tests, and by words without ideas ; such Shibboleth's 
 as these have decided the secular fates of men ; and 
 bishoprics, or burning mitres, or faggots, have been 
 the rewards of different persons, according as they 
 
OF THE MIND. Iii3 
 
 pronounced these consecrated syllables, or not pro- 
 nounced tlifiin. To defend them was all piety, and 
 pomp, and triumph ; to despise them, to doubt or deny 
 them, was torture and death. A thousand thank offer- 
 ings are due to that Providence, which has delivered 
 our age and our nation from these absurd iniquities ! 
 O that every specimen and shadow of this madness 
 were banished from our schools and churches in every 
 shape ! 
 
 III. Let not young students apply themselves to 
 search out deep, dark, and abstruse matters, far above 
 their reach, or spend their labour in any peculiar sub- 
 jects, for which they have not the advantages of ne- 
 cessary antecedent learning, or books, or observations. 
 Let them not be too hasty to know things above their 
 present powers, nor plunge their incjuiries at once into 
 the depths of knowledge, nor begin to study any sci- 
 ence in the middle of it ; this will confound rather than 
 enlighten the understanding ; such practices may hap- 
 pen to discourage and jade the mind by an attempt 
 above its power, it may balk the understanding, and 
 create an aversion to future diligence, and perhaps by 
 despair may forbid the pursuit of that subject forever 
 afterwards ; as a limb overstrained by lifting a weij^ht 
 above its power^ may never recover its former agility 
 and vigour ; or if it does, the man may be frighted 
 from ever exerting its strength again. 
 
 IV. Nor yet let any student on the other hand, frijjht 
 himself at every turn with un surmountable difficulties, 
 nor imagine that the truth is wrapt up in impenetrable 
 darkness. These are formidable spectres which the 
 understanding raises sometimes to flatter its own lazi- 
 ness. Those things which, in a remote and confused 
 view, seem very obscure and perplexed, may be ap- 
 proached by gentle and regular steps, and may then 
 unfold and explain themselves at large to the eye. The 
 hardest problems in geometry, and the most intricate 
 schemes or diagrams, may be explicated and under- 
 stood step by step ; every great mathematician bears 
 a constant witness to this observation. 
 
 V. In learning any new thing, there should be as lit- 
 tle as {possible first proposed to the mind at once, and 
 that being understood and fully mastered, proceed then 
 to the next adjoining part yet unknown. This is a slow, 
 
Ui IMPROVEMENT 
 
 but safe and sure v/ay to arrive at knowledge. If the 
 mind apply itself at first to easier subjects, and things 
 near akin to what is already known, and then advance 
 to the more remote and knotty parts of knowledge by 
 slow degrees, it would be able in this manner to cope 
 with great difficulties, and prevail over them with a- 
 mazing and happy success. 
 
 Mathon happened to dip into the two last chapters 
 of a new book of geometry and mennsuration as so»n 
 as he saw it, and was frighted with the complicated 
 diagrams which he found there, about the frustums of 
 cones and pyramids, &c. and some deep demonstrations 
 among conic sections ; he shut the book again in des- 
 pair, and imagined none but a Sir Isaac Newton was 
 ever fit to read it. But his tutor happily persuaded 
 him to begin the first pages about lines and angles, and 
 he found such surprising pleasure in three weeks time 
 in the victories he daily obtained, that at last he became 
 one of the chief geometers of his age. 
 
 VI. Engage not the mind in the intense pursuit of 
 too many thmgs at once ; especially such as have no 
 relation to one another. This will be ready to distract 
 the understanding, and hinder it from attaining perfec- 
 tion in any one subject of study. Such a practice gives 
 a slight smattering of several sciences, without any solid 
 and substantial knowledge of them, and without any 
 real and valuable improvement ; and though two or 
 three sorts of study may be usually carried on at once, 
 to entertain the mind with variety, that it may not be 
 over tired with one sort of thoughts ; yet a multitude 
 of subjects will too much distract the attention, and 
 weaken the application of the mind to any one of them. 
 Where two or three sciences are pursued at the same 
 time, if one of them be dry, abstracted, and unpleasant, 
 as logic, metaphysics, law, languages, let another be 
 more entertaining and agreeable, to secure the mind 
 from weariness and aversion to study. Delight should 
 be intermingled with labour as far as possible, to allure 
 us to bear the fatigue of dry studies the better. Poe- 
 try, practical mathematics, history, &.c. are generally 
 esteemed entertaining studies, and may be happily used 
 for this purpose. Thus Avhile we relieve a dull and 
 heavy hour by some alluring employments of the 
 mind, our very diversions enrich our understandings, 
 and our pleasure is turned into profit. 
 
OF THE MIND. 125 
 
 VII. In the pursuit of every valuable subject of 
 knowledge, keep the end always in your eye, and beno^ 
 diverted from it by every petty trifle you meet with in 
 the way. Some persons have such a wandering genius, 
 that they are ready to pursue every incidental theme 
 or occasional idea, till th«y have lost sight of their 
 original subject. These are the men who, Avhen they 
 are engaged in conversation, prolong their story by 
 dwelling on every incident, and swell their narrative 
 with long parentheses, till they have lost their first 
 design ; like a man who is sent in quest of some great 
 treasure, but he steps aside to gather every flower he 
 finds, or stands still to dig up every shining pebble he 
 meets with in his way, till the treasure is forgotten and 
 never found. 
 
 VIII. Exert your care, skill, and diligence, about 
 every subject and every question in a just proportion 
 to the importance of it, together with "the danger and 
 bad consequences of ignorance or error therein. Many 
 excellent advantages flow from this one direction. 
 
 L This rule will teach you to be very careful in 
 gaining some general and fundamental truths in philoso- 
 phy, in religion, and in human life ; because they are 
 of the highest moment, and conduct our thoughts with 
 ease into a thousand inferior and particular propositions. 
 Such is that great principle in natural philosophy, the 
 doctrine of gravitation, or mutual tendency of all bodies 
 towards each other, which Sir Isaac Newton has so 
 well established, and from which he has drawn the 
 solution of a multitude of appearances in the heavenly 
 bodies as well as on earth. 
 
 Such is that golden principle of morality which our 
 blessed Lord has given us, " Do that to others which 
 you think ]ust and reasonable that others should do to 
 you ;" which is almost sufficient in itself to solve all 
 cases of conscience which lelate to our neighbour. 
 
 Such are those principles in religion, that a rational 
 creature is accountable to his Maker for all his actions ; 
 that the soul of man is immortal ; that there is a future 
 state of happiness and of misery depending on our 
 behaviour in the present life, on which all our religious 
 practices are built or supported. 
 
 We should be very curious in examining all proposi- 
 tions that pretend to this honour of being, general 
 Ij 2 ^ 
 
126 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 principles ; and we should not without just evidence ad- 
 mit into this rank mere matters of common fame, or 
 commonly received opinions ; no, nor the general de- 
 terminations of the learned, or the estabhshed articles 
 of any church ornation, Sic. for there are many learned 
 presumptions, many synodical and national mistakes, 
 many established falsehoods, as well as many vulgar 
 errors, wherein multitudes of men have followed one 
 another for whole ages almost blindfold. It is of great 
 importance for every manto be careful that these general 
 principles are just and true ; for one error may lead us 
 mto thousands', which will naturally follow, if once a 
 leading falsehood be admitted. 
 
 2. This rule will direct us to be more careful aboui 
 practical points than mere speculations, since they are 
 commonly of much greater use and consequence ; 
 therefore the speculations of algebra, the doctrine of 
 infinities, and the quadrature of curves in mathematical 
 learning, together with all the train of theorems in na- 
 tural philosophj', should by no means intrench upon 
 our studies of morality and virtue. Even in the science 
 of divinity itself, the sublimest speculations of it are not 
 of that worth and value, as the rules of duty towards 
 God and towards man. 
 
 3. In matters of practice we should be most careful 
 to fix our end right, and Avisely determine the scone at 
 which we aim ; because that is to direct us in the crioice 
 and use of all the means to attain it. If our end be 
 wrong, all our labour in the means will be vain, or per- 
 haps so much the more pernicious, as they are better 
 suited to attain that mistaken end. If mere sensible 
 pleasure, or human grandeur, or wealth, be our chief end, 
 we should choose means contrary to piety and virtue, 
 and proceed apace to vvard real misery. 
 
 4. This rule will engage our best powers and deepest 
 attention in the affairs of religion, and things that re- 
 late to a future world ; for those propositions which ex- 
 tend only to the interest of the present life, are but of 
 small importance when compared with those that have 
 influence upon our everlasting concerjuiients, 
 
 5. And even in the affairs of religion, if we walk by 
 the conduct of this rule, we shall be much more labori- 
 ous in our inq^uiries into the necessary and fundamental 
 articles of faith and practice than the lesser appendicea 
 
OP THE MIND. 127 
 
 of Christianity. The doctrines of repentance towards 
 God, faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, with love to men 
 and universal holiness, will employ our best and bright- 
 est hours and meditations ; while the mint, annise, and 
 cummin, the gestures, vestures, and fringes of religion, 
 will be regarded no further than they have a plain and 
 evident connexion with faith and love, with holiness 
 and peace. 
 
 6. This rule will make us solicitous not only to avoid 
 such errors, whose influence will spread wide into the 
 whole scheme of our own knowledge and practice, and 
 such mistakes whose influence would be yet more exten- 
 sive and injurious to others, as well as to ourselves ; per- 
 haps to many persons or many families ; to a whole 
 church, a town, a country,' or a kingdom. Upon this ac- 
 count, persons who are called to instruct others, who are 
 raised to any eminence either in church or state, ought 
 to be careful in settling their principles in matters rela- 
 ting to the civil, the moral, or the religious life, lest a 
 mistake of theirs should diffuse wide mischief, should 
 draw along with it most pernicious consequences, and 
 perhaps extend to following generations. 
 
 These are some of the advantages which arise from 
 the eighth rule, viz. Pursue every inquiry and study in 
 proportion to itsfeal value and importance. 
 
 IX. Have a care lest some beloved notion, or some 
 darling science, so far prevail over your mind, as to give 
 a sovereign tincture to all your other studies, and dis- 
 colour all your ideas ; like a person in the jaundice, 
 who spreads a yellow scene with his eyes over all the 
 objects which he meets. 1 have known a man of pe- 
 culiar skill in music, and much devoted to that science, 
 who found out a great resemblance of the Athanasian 
 doctrine of the Trinity in every single note, and he 
 thought it carried something of argument in it to prove 
 that doctrine. I have read of another, who accommo- 
 dated the seven days of the first week of creation to 
 seven notes of music, and thus the whole creation 
 become harmonious. 
 
 Under this influence, derived from mathematical stu- 
 dies, some have been tempted to cast all their logical, 
 their metaphysical, and their theological, and moral 
 learning into the method of mathematicians, and bring 
 every thing relating to the abstracted, or those prac- 
 
128 IMPROV^EMENT 
 
 fical sciences, under theorems, problems, postulates, 
 scholiums, corollaries, kc. whereas the matter ought 
 always to direct the method ; for all subjects or matters 
 of thought, cannot be moulded or subdued to one form. 
 Neither the rules for the conduct of the understanding, 
 nor the docliines nor the duties of religion and virtue, 
 can be exhibited naturally in figures and diagrams. 
 Things are so to be considered as they are in themselves ; 
 their natures are in flexible, and their natural relations 
 unalterable ; and therefore, in order to conceive them 
 aright, we must bring our undefstandings to things, and 
 not pretend to bend and strain things to comport with 
 Our lai^cies and forms. 
 
 X. Suifer not any beloved study to prejudice your 
 mind so far in favour of it as to despise all other learn- 
 ing. This is a fault of some little souls who have got a 
 smattering of astronomy, chemistry, metaphysics, his- 
 tory, Uc. and for want of a due acquaintance with 
 other sciences, make a scoff at them all in comparison of 
 their favourite science. Their understandings are hereby 
 cooped up in narrow bounds, so that they never Iook 
 abroad into other provinces of the intellectual world, 
 which are more beautiful perhaps, and more fruitful 
 than their own ; if they would search a little into other 
 sciences, they might not only find treasures of new 
 knowledge, but might be furnished also with rich hints 
 of thought, and glorious assistances to cultivate that 
 very province to which they have confined themselves. 
 Here I would always give some grains of allowance 
 to the sacred science of theology, which is incomparably 
 superior to all the rest, as it teaches us the knowledge 
 of God, and the way to his eternal favour. This is 
 that noble study which is every man's duty, and every 
 one who can be called a rational creature is capable of 
 it. This is that science which would truly enlarge the 
 minds of men, were it studied with that freedom, that 
 unbiassed love of truth, and that sacred charity which 
 it teaches ; and if it were not made, contrary to its own 
 nature, the occasion of strife, faction, malignity, a 
 narrow spirit and unreasonable impositions on the mind 
 and practice. Let this therefore stand always chief. 
 
 Xl. Let evcy particular study have due and proper 
 time assigned it, and let not a favourite science prevail 
 with you to lay out such hours upon it as ought to be 
 employe/dupon the more nectssary andmore iinportar/ 
 
OF THE MIND,. 129 
 
 aSairs or studies of your profession. When you have, 
 according to the best of your discretion, and according 
 to the circumstances of your Hfe, fixed proper hours 
 for particular studies, endeavour to keep to those rules ; 
 not, indeed with a superstitious preciseness, but with 
 some good degrees of a regular constancy. Order and 
 method in a course of study saves much time, and 
 mak:«s large improvements ; such a fixation of certain 
 hours will have a happy influence to secure you from 
 trifling and wasting away your minutes in impertinence. 
 
 XII. Do not apply yourself to any one study at one 
 time longer than the mind is capable of giving a close 
 attention to it without weariness or wandering. Do 
 not over fatigue the spirits at any time, lest the mind 
 he seized with a lassitude, and thereby be tempted to 
 nauseate and grow tired of a particular subject before 
 you have finished it. 
 
 XIII. In the beginning of your application to any new 
 subject be not too uneasy under present difficulties that 
 occur, nor too importunate and impatient for answers 
 and solutions to any questions that arise. Perhaps a 
 Kttle more study, a little further acquaintance with the 
 subject, a little time and experience, will solve those 
 difficulties, untie the knot, and make your doubts van* 
 ish ; especially if you ai*e under the instruction of a 
 tutor, he can inform you that your inquiries are perhaps 
 too early, and that you have not yet learned those 
 principles upon whicn the solution of such a difficulty 
 depends. 
 
 XIV. Do not expect to arrive at certainty in every 
 subject which you pursue. There are a hundred things 
 wherein we mortals in this dark and imperfect stat« 
 must be content with probabilily, where our best light 
 and reasonings will reach no further. We must balance 
 arguments as justly as we can, and where Ave cannot 
 find weight enough on either side to determine the 
 scale with sovereign force and assurance, we must con- 
 tent ourselves perhaps with a small preponderation. 
 This will give us a probable opinion, and those probabili- 
 ties are sufficient for the daily determination of a 
 thousand actions in human life, and many times even in 
 matters of religion. 
 
 It is admirably well expressed by a late writer, " When 
 there is a great strength of argument set before us, if 
 
S30 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 -vve will refuse to do what appears most fit for us, until ^ 
 every little objection be removed, wc shall never take 
 one wise resolution as long as we live." 
 
 Suppose 1 had been honestly and long searching 
 what religion I should choose, and yet I could not find 
 that the arguments in defence of Christianity arose to 
 complete certainty, but went only so far as to give me 
 a probable evidence of the truth of it ; though many 
 difficulties still remained, yet I should think myself 
 obliged to receive and practice that religion ; for the 
 'Godof nature and reason has bound us to assent, and act 
 according to the best evidence we have, even though k 
 be not absolute and complete ; and as he is our supreme 
 Judge his abounding goodness and equity will approve 
 and acquit the man whose conscience honestly and wil- 
 lingly seeks the best light, and obeys it as far as he can 
 discover it. 
 
 But in matters of great importance in religion, let 
 him join all due diligence with earnest and humble 
 prayer for divine aid in his inquiries ; such prayer and 
 such dihgence as eternal concerns require, and such as 
 he may plead with courage before the Judge of all. 
 
 XV. Endeavour to apply every speculative study, 
 as far as possible, to some practical use, that both 
 yourself and others may be the better for it. Inqui- 
 ries even in natural philosophy should not be mere 
 amusements, and much less in the affairs of religion. 
 Researches into the springs of natural bodies and their 
 motions should lead men to invent happy methods for 
 the ease and convenience of human life; or at least 
 they should be improved to awaken us to admire the 
 wondrous wisdom and contrivnnce of God our Cre- 
 ator, in all the works of nature. 
 
 If we pursue mathematical speculations, they will 
 inure us to attend closely to any subject, to seek and 
 ^ain clear ideas, to distinguish truth fi-om falsehood, to 
 judge justly, and to argue strongly ; and these studies 
 do more directly furnish us with all the various rules 
 of those useful arts of life, viz. measuring, building, 
 sailing, kc. 
 
 Even our inquiries and disputations about vacuum or 
 space, and atoms, about incommensurable quantities, 
 and infinite divisibility of matter, and eternal duration, 
 which seem to be purely speculative, will show us some 
 good practical lessons, will lead us to see the weakness 
 
OP THE MIND. m 
 
 of our nature, and should teach us humility in arguing 
 upon divine subjects and matters of sacred revelation. 
 This should guard us against rejecting any doctrine 
 which is expressly and evidently revealed, though we 
 cannot fully understand it. It is good sometimes to 
 lose and bewilder ourselves in such studies for this very 
 reason, and to attain this practical advjintage, this im- 
 provement in true modesty of spirit. 
 
 XVI. Though we should always be ready to change 
 our sentiments of things upon just conviction of their 
 falsehood, yet there is not the same necessity of chang- 
 ing our accustomed methods of reading, or study and 
 practice, even though we have not been led at first into 
 the happiest method. Our thoughts may be true, 
 though we may have hit upon an improper order of 
 thinking. Truth does not always depend upon the 
 most convenient method. There may be a certain 
 form and order in which we have lon^ accustomed our- 
 selves to range our ideas and notions, which may 
 be best for us now, though it was not originally best in 
 itself. The inconveniences of changing may be much 
 greater than the conveniences we could obtain by a 
 new method. 
 
 As for instance ; if a man in his younger days has 
 ranged all his sentiments in theology in the method of 
 Ames' Bledulla Theologiae, or Bishop Usher's body of 
 Divinity, it may be much more natural and easy for 
 him to continue to dispose all his further acquirements 
 in the same order, though perhaps neither of those 
 treatises are in themselves written in the most perfect 
 method. So when we have long fixed our cases of 
 shelves in a library, and ranged our books in any par- 
 ticular order, viz. according to their languages, or 
 according to their subjects, or according to the alpha- 
 betical names of the authors, &.c. we are perfectly well 
 acquainted with the or^er in which they now stand, 
 and we can find any particular book which we seek, or 
 add a new book which we have purchased with much 
 greater ease than we can do in finer cases of shelves, 
 where the books are ranged in any different manner 
 whatsoever ; any different position of the volumes 
 would be new, and strange, and troublesome to us, and 
 would not countervail the inconveniences of a change. 
 So if a man of forty j'ears old has been taught to 
 
im IMPROVEMENT 
 
 hold his pen awkwardly in his youth, and yet writes 
 sufficiently well for all the purposes of his station, it is 
 not worth while to teach him now the most accurate- 
 methods of handling that instrument ; for this would 
 create him more trouble without equal advantage, 
 and perhaps he might never attain to write better after 
 he has placed his hngers perfectly right with this new 
 accuracy. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Of Fixing the Attention. 
 
 A STUDENT should labour by all proper methods 
 to acquire a steady fixation of thought. Attention is a 
 verynecessary thing in order to improve our minds. The 
 evidence of truth does not always appear immediately, 
 nor strike the soul at first sight. It is by long attention 
 and inspection that we arrive at evidence, and it is for 
 want of it we judge falsely of many things. We make 
 haste to determine upon a slight and a sudden view, we 
 confirm our guesses which arise from a glance, we pass 
 a judgment while we have but a confused or obscure 
 perception, and thus plunge ourselves into mistakes. 
 This is like a man, who walking in a mist, or being at 
 a great distance from any visible object, (suppose a tree, 
 a man, a horse, or a church,) judges much amiss of the 
 figure and situation and colours of it, and sometimes 
 takes one for the other ; whereas if he would but 
 withhold his judgment till he come nearer to it, or to 
 stay till clearer light comes, and then Avould fix his eyes 
 longer upon it, he would secure himself from those 
 mistakes. 
 
 Now, in order to gain a greater facility of attention, 
 we may observe these rules : 
 
 I. Get a good liking to the study or knowledge you 
 would pursue. We may observe, that there is not 
 much difficulty in confiniiig the mind to contemptate 
 what we have a great desire to know ; and especially 
 if they are matters of sense, or ideas which paint 
 themselves upon the fancy. It is but acquiring an hear- 
 ty good will and resolution to search out and survey 
 the various {)roperties and part? of such objects, and 
 our attention will be engaged if there be any delight c-r 
 
OF THE MIND. 13$ 
 
 diversion in the study or contemplation of them. 
 Theiefore mathematical studies have a strange influence 
 towards fixing the attention of the mind, and giving a. 
 steadiness to a wandering disposition, hecause they deal 
 much in lines, figures, and numbers ; which affect and 
 please the sense and imagination. Histories have a 
 strong tendency the same way, for they engage the 
 soul by a variety of sensible occurences ; when it hath 
 begun it knows not how to leave off; it longs to know 
 the final event, through a natural curiosity that belongs 
 to mankind. Voyages and travels, and accounts of 
 strange countries and strange appearances, will assist in 
 this work. This sort of study detains the mind by the 
 perpetual occurrence and expectation of something new, 
 and that which may gratefully strike the imagination. 
 
 H. Sometimes we may make use of sensible things 
 and corporeal images for the illustration of those notions 
 which are more abstracted and intellectual. Therefore 
 diagrams greatly assist the mind in astronomy and 
 
 })hilosophy ; and the emblems of virtues and vices may 
 lappily teach children, and pleasingly impress those 
 useful moral ideas" on youn^ minds, which perhaps 
 might be conveyed to them with much more difficulty 
 by mere moral and abstracted discourses. 
 
 I confess, in this practice of representing moral sub- 
 jects by pictures, we should be cautious lest we so far 
 immerse the mind in corporeal images, as to render it 
 unfit to take in an abstracted and intellectual idea, or 
 cause it to form wrong conceptions of immaterial things. 
 This practice therefore, is rather to be used at first in 
 order to get a fixed habit of attention, and in some 
 cases only ; but it can never be our constant way and 
 method of pursuing all moral, abstracted, and spiritual 
 themes. 
 
 ni. Apply yourself to those studies, and read those 
 authors who draw out their subjects into a perpetual 
 chain of connected reasonings, wherein the following 
 parts of the discourse are naturally and easily derived 
 from those which go before. Several of the mathe- 
 matical sciences, if not all, are happily useful for this 
 purpose. This will render the labour of study delight- 
 ful to a rational, mind, and will fix the powers of the 
 understanding with strong attention to their proper 
 operations by the very pleasure of it. Labor ipse vo^ 
 M 
 
134 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 luptaSf is a happy proposition wheresoever it can be, 
 applied. 
 
 iV. Do not choose your constant place of study by 
 the finery of the prospects, or the most various and 
 entertaining scenes of sensible things. Too much light, 
 or a variety of objects which strike the eye, or the ear, 
 especially while they are ever in motion, or often chang- 
 ing, have a natural and powerful tendeucy to steal away 
 the mind too often, from its steady pursuit of any sub- 
 ject which we contemplate ; and thereby the soul gets 
 a habit of silly curiosity and impertinence, of trifling 
 and wandering. Vagerio thought himself furnished 
 with the best closet for his study among the beauties, 
 gaieties, and diversions of Kensington or Hampton 
 Court ; but after seven years professing to pursue learn- 
 ing, he was a mere novice still. 
 
 V. Be not in too much haste to come to the deter- 
 mination of a difficult or important point. Think it 
 worth your waiting to find out truth. Do not give 
 your assent up to either side of a question too soon, 
 merely on this account, that the study of it is long and 
 difficult. Rather be contented with ignorance for a sea- 
 son, and continue in suspense till your attention, and 
 meditation, and due labour, have found out sufficient 
 evidence on one side. Some are so fond to know a 
 great deal at once, and love to talk of things with free- 
 dom and boldness before they thoroughly understand 
 them, that they scarcely ever allow themselves atten- 
 tion enough to search the matter through and through. 
 
 VL Have a care of indulging the more sensual pas- 
 sions and appetites of animal nature ; they are great 
 enemies to attention. Let not the mind of a student 
 be under the influence of any warm affection to things 
 of sense when he comes to engage in the search of 
 truth or the improvement of his understanding. A 
 person under the power of love, or fear, or anger, great 
 pain, or deep sorrow, hath so little government of his 
 soul, that he cannot keep it attentive to the proper 
 subject of his meditation. The passions call away 
 the thoughts with incessant importunity towards 
 the object that excited them ; and if we indulge the 
 frequent rise and roving of passions, we shall thereby 
 procure an unsteady and inattentive habit of mind. 
 
 Yet this one exception must be admitted, viz If we 
 
OF THE MIND. 135 
 
 can be so iiappy as to engage any ]3assion of the soul on 
 tliG side of t!ie particular study which we are pursuing, 
 it may have great influence to fix the attention more 
 stron^ily to it. 
 
 Vli. It is therefore very useful to fix and engage 
 the mind in the pursuit of any study, by a consideration 
 of the divine pleasures of truth and knowledge, by a 
 aense of our duty to God, by a delight in the exercise of 
 our intellectual fcicultics, by the hope of future service 
 to our fellow creatures, and glorious advantage to our- 
 selves, both in this Avorld and that which is to come. 
 These thoughts, though they may move our affections, 
 yet they do it with a proper influence ; these will rather 
 assist and promote our attention than disturb or divert 
 it from the subject of our present and proper medita- 
 tions. A soul inspired with the fondest love of truth, 
 and the warmest aspirations after sincere felicity and 
 celestial beatitude, will keep all its powers attentive to 
 the incessant pursuit of them ; passion is then refined 
 and consecrated to its divinest purposes. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Of Enlarging the Capacity of the Mind. 
 
 X HERE are three things which in an especial manner 
 go to make up that amplitude or capacity of mind, which 
 is one of the noblest characters belonging to the under- 
 standing ; (1.) When the mind is ready to take in great 
 and sublime ideas without pain or difficulty. (£.) When 
 the mind is free to receive new and strange ideas, upon 
 just evidence, without great surprise or aversion. (3.) 
 'When the mind is able to conceive or survey many ideas 
 at once without confusion, and to form a true judgment 
 derived from that extensive survey. The person who 
 wants either of these characters, m^ in that respect be 
 said to have a mirrow genius. Let us diffuse our 
 meditations a little upon this subject. 
 
 I. That is an ample and capacious mind which isread^ 
 to take in vast and sublime ideas without pain or diffi- 
 culty. Persons who have never been used to converse 
 with any thing but the common, little, and obvious af- 
 fairs of life, have acquired a narrow or contracted habit 
 of soul, that they are not able to stretch their intellects 
 
13S IMPROVEMENT 
 
 wide enough to admit large and noble thoughts ; they 
 are ready to make their domestic, daily, and familiar 
 images of things, the measure of all that is, and all that 
 can be. 
 
 Talk to them of the vast dimensions of the planetary 
 worlds ; tell them that the star called Jupiter is a solid 
 globe, two hundred and twenty times bigger than our 
 earth ; that the sun is a vast globe of fire above a thou- 
 sand times bigger than Jupiter ; and that is t\vo hun- 
 dred and twenty thousand times bigger than the earth ; 
 that the distance from the earth to the sun is eighty- 
 one millions of miles ; and that a cannon bullet shot 
 froln the earth would not arrive at the nearest of the 
 fixed stars in some hundred of years ; they cannot bear 
 the belief of it, but hear all tJhese glorious labours of 
 astronomy as a mere idle romance. 
 
 Inform them of the amazing swiftness of the motion 
 of some of the smallest or the biggest bodies in nature ; 
 assure them, according to the best philosophy, that the 
 planet Venus, i. e. our morning or evening star, which 
 IS near as big as our earth,) though it seems to move 
 from its place but a few yards in a month, does really 
 fly seventy thousand miles in an hour ; tell them that 
 the rays of light shoot from the sun to our earth at the 
 rate of one hundred and eighty thousand miles in the 
 second of a minute ; they stand aghast at such sort of 
 talk, and beJieve it no more than the tales of giants fifty 
 yards high, and the rabbinical fables of Leviathan, who 
 every day swallows a fish of three miles long, and is 
 thus preparing himself to be the food and entertainment 
 of the blessed at the feast of Paradise. 
 
 These unenlarged souls are in the same manner dis- 
 gusted with the wonders which the miscroscope has 
 discovered concerning the shape, the limbs and motions 
 often thousand little animals, whose united bulk would 
 not equal a peppercorn ; they are ready to give the lie 
 to all the improvements of our senses by the invention 
 ofa variety of glasses, and will scarcely believe any thing 
 beyond the testimony of their naked eye, without the 
 assistance of art. 
 
 Now if we would attempt in a learned manner to 
 relieve the minds that labour under this defect : 
 
 (1.) It is useful to begin with some first principles of 
 geoiaetry, and lead them onward by degrees to the 
 
OF THE MIND- 137 
 
 doctrine of quantities which are incommensurable, or 
 v^hich will admit of no common measure, though it be 
 never so small. By this mean thej will see the neces- 
 sity of admitting the infinite divisibility of quantity or 
 matter. 
 
 This same doctrine may also be proved to their un- 
 der^andings, and almost to their senses, by some easier 
 arguments in a more obvious manner. As the very 
 opening and closing of a pair of compasses will evident- 
 ly prove, that if the smallest supposed part of matter 
 and quantity, be put between the j)oints, theie will be 
 still less and less distances or quantities all the way be- 
 tAveen the legs, till they come to the head or joint ; 
 wherefore there is no such thing possible as the smallest- 
 ({uantity. But a little acquaintance with true philoso- 
 phy and mathematical learning would soon teach them^ 
 that there are no limits either as to the extension of 
 space, or to the division of body, and would lead them 
 to believe there are bodies amazingly great or small be- 
 5'ond their present imagination. 
 
 (2.) It is proper also to acquaint them with the cir- 
 cumierence of our earth, which may be proved by very 
 easy principles of geometry, geography, and astronomy, 
 to be about twenty four thousand miles round, as it has 
 been actually found to have this dimension by mariners 
 who have sailed round it. Then let them be taught, 
 that in every twenty four hours, either the su»i and stars 
 must all move round this earth, or the earth must turn 
 round upon its own axis. If the earth itself revolves 
 thus, then each house or mountain near the equator, 
 must move at the rate of a thousand miles in an hour; 
 butif (as they generally suppose) the sun or stars mcve 
 round the earth, then (the circumference of their several 
 orbits or spheres being vastly greater than this earth) 
 they must have a motion prodigiously swifter than a 
 thousand miles an hour. Such a thought as this will 
 by degrees enlarge their minds ; and they will be taught, 
 even upon their own principle of the diurnal revolutions 
 of the heavens, to take in some of the vast dimensions 
 of the heavenly bodies, their spaces and motions. 
 
 (3.) To this should be added the use of telescopes, 
 
 to help them to see the distant wonders in the skies ; 
 
 and microscopes, which discover the minutest parts of 
 
 little animals^ and reveal some of the finer and mort 
 
 M 2 
 
IS8 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 curious works of nature. They should be acquainted 
 also with some other noble inventions of modern phi- 
 losophy, which have a great influence to enlarge the 
 human understanding, of which I shall take occasion 
 to speak more under the next head. 
 
 (4.) For the same purpose they may be invited to 
 read those parts of Milton's admirable poem entitled 
 Paradise Lost, where he describes the armies and 
 powers of angels, the wars and the senate of devils, 
 the creation of this earth, together with the descriptions 
 of, heaven, hell, and paradise. 
 
 It must be granted that poesy often deals in these 
 vast and sublime ideas. And even If the subject or 
 matter of the poem doth not require such amazing and 
 extensive thoughts, yet tropes and figures, which are 
 some of the main powers and beauties of poesy, do so 
 gloriously exalt the matter, as to give a sublime imagina- 
 tion its proper relish and delight. 
 
 So when a boar is chased in hunting, 
 
 His nostrils flames expire, 
 
 And his red eye balls roll with living fire. Dryden, 
 
 When Ulysses withholds and suppresses his resentment, 
 
 His Vv'rath comprest, 
 
 Recoiling, mutter'd thunder in his breast. Pope. 
 
 But especially where the subject is grand, the poet 
 fails not to represent it in all its "grandeur. 
 
 So when the supremacy of a God is described : 
 
 He sees with equal eye, as God of all, 
 
 A hero perish, or a sparrow fall ; 
 
 Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd ; 
 
 And now a bubble burst, and now a world. Pope. 
 
 These sorts of writing have a natural tendency to 
 enlarge the capacity of the mind, and make sublime 
 ideas familiar to it. And instead of running always 
 to the ancient Heathen poesy with this design, we may 
 with equal, if not superior advantage, apply ourselves 
 to converse with some of the best of our modern poets, 
 as well as with the writings of the prophets, and the 
 poetical parts of the Bible, viz. the book of Job and 
 the Psalms, in which sacred authors we shall find some- 
 times more sublime ideas, more glorious descriptions, 
 more elevated language, than the fondest critics have 
 
OF THE MIND. 139 
 
 ever found in any of the Heathen versifiers either of 
 Greece or Rome ; for the eastern writers use and allow 
 much stronger figures and tropes than the western. 
 
 Now there are many great and sacred advantages to 
 be derived from this sort of enlargviment of the rnind. 
 
 It will lead us into more exalted apprehensions of the 
 great God our Creator than ever we had before. It 
 will entertain our thoughts with holy wonder and 
 amazement, while we contemplate that Being who 
 created these various works of surprising greatness and 
 surprizing smallness ; who has dispbyed most incon- 
 ceivable wisdom in the contrivance .of oil the parts, 
 powers, and motions of these little animals, invisible 
 to the naked eye ; who has manifested a most divine 
 extent of knowledge, power, and greatness, in forminp:^ 
 moving, and managing the most extensive bulk of the 
 heavenly bodies, and in surveying and comprehending 
 all those immeasurable spaces in which they move. 
 Fancy, with all her images, is fatigued and overwhelmed 
 in following the planetary worlds through such immense 
 stages, such astonishing journies as these are, and 
 resigns its place to the pure intellect, which learns by 
 degrees to take in such ideas as these, and to adore its 
 Creator with new and sublime devotion. 
 
 And not only are We taught to form juster ideas of 
 the great God bj^ these methods, but this enlargement 
 of the mind carries ue on to nobler conceptions of his 
 intelligent creatures. The mind that deals only in 
 vulgar and common ideas, is ready to imagine the 
 nature and powers of man to come something too near 
 to God his Maker, becaufee we do not see or sensibly 
 converse with any beings superior to ourselves. But 
 when the soul has obtained a greater amplitude of 
 thought, it will not then immediately pronounce every 
 thing to be God which is above man. It then learns to 
 suppose there may be as many various ranks of beings 
 in the invisible world, in a constant gradation superior 
 us, as we ourselves are superior to all the ranks of be- 
 ings beneath us in this visible world ; even though we 
 descend downward far below the ant and the worm, 
 the snail and the oyster, to the least and to the dullest 
 animate atoms which are discovered to us by micros- 
 copes. 
 
 By this means we shall be able to suppose what pro- 
 digious power angels, whether good or bad, must bo 
 
140 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 furnished with, and prodigious knowledge, in order to 
 oversee the realms of Persia and Graecia of old, or if 
 any such superintended the affairs of Great Britain, 
 France, Ireland, Germany, &t,c. in our days: What 
 power and speed is necessary to destroy one hundred 
 and eighty live thousand armed men in one night in the 
 Assyrian camp of Sennacherib, and all the first born in 
 the land of Egypt in another, both which are attributed 
 to an angel. 
 
 By these steps we shall ascend to form more just 
 ideas of the knowledge and grandeur, the power and 
 glory, of the Man Jesus Christ, who is intimately uni- 
 ted to God, and is one with him. Doubtless he is fur- 
 nished with superior powers to all the angels in heaven, 
 because he is employed in superior work, and appointed 
 to be the sovereign Lord of all the visible and invisible 
 worlds. It is his human nature, in which the Godhead 
 dwells bodily, that is advanced to these honours and to 
 this empire ; and perhaps there is little or nothing in 
 the government of the kingdoms of nature and grace, 
 but what is transacted by the Man Jesus, inhabited by 
 the divine power and wisdom, and employed as a 
 medium or conscious instrument of this extensive gub- 
 emation. 
 
 II. I proceed now to consider the next thing where- 
 in the capacity or amplitude of the mind consists, and 
 that is, when the mind is free to receive new and strange 
 ideas and propositions upon just evidence, without any 
 great surprise or aversion. Those who confine them- 
 selves within the circle of their own hereditary ideas 
 and opinions, and who never give themselves leave so 
 much as to examine or believe any thing beside the 
 dictates of their own family, or sect, or party, are justly 
 charged with a narrowness of soul. Let us survey 
 some instances of this imperfection, and then direct to 
 the cure of it. 
 
 (1.) Persons who have been bred up all their days 
 vithin the smoke of their father's chimney, or within 
 the hmits of their native town and village, are surprised 
 at every new sight that appears, when they travel a 
 lew miles from Tiome. The plowman stands amazed 
 at the shops, the trade, the crowds of people, the mag- 
 nificent buildings, the pomp, and riches, and equipage 
 of the court and city^ and would hardly believe what 
 
OF THE MIND. 141 
 
 was told hitn before he saw it. On the other hand, 
 the coeknejr, travelling into the country, is surprised 
 at many actions of the quadruped and winged animals 
 in the field, and at many common practices of rural 
 aflairs. 
 
 If either of these happen to hear an account of the 
 familiar and daily customs of foreign countries, they 
 pronounce them at once indecent and ridiculous ; so 
 narrow are their understandings, and their thoughts 
 so confined, that they know not how to believe a.nj 
 thing wise and proper, besides what thej have been 
 taught to practice. 
 
 This narrowness of mind should be cured by hearing 
 and reading the accounts of different parts of the world, 
 and the histories of past ages, and of nations and coun* 
 tries distant from our own, especially the more polite 
 parts of fnankind. Nothing tends in this respect so 
 much to enlarge the mind as travelling, i. e. making a 
 visit to other towns, cities, or countries, besides those 
 in which we were born and educated ; and where our 
 condition of life does not grant us this privilege, we 
 must endeavour to supply tiie want of it by books. 
 
 (2.) It is the same narrowness of mind that awakens 
 the surprise and aversion of some persons, when they 
 hear of doctrines and schemes in human affairs, or in 
 religion, quite different from what they have embra- 
 ced. Perhaps they have been trained up from their 
 infancy in one set of notions, and their thoughts have 
 been confined to mie single tract both in the civil and 
 religious life, without ever hearing or knowing whaX 
 other opinions are current among mankind ; or at least 
 they have seen all other notions oesides their own rep- 
 resented in a false and malignant light, whereupon they 
 Judge and condemn at once every sentiment but what 
 their own party receives, and they think it a piece of 
 justice and truth to lay heavy censures upon the practice 
 of every different sect in Christianity or politics. 
 They have so rooted themselves in the opinions of 
 their party, that they cannot hear an objection with 
 patience, nor can they bear a vindication, or so much 
 as an apology, for any set of principles beside their 
 own ; all the rest is nonsense or heresy, folly or blas- 
 phemy. 
 
 This defect also is to be relieved by free conversation 
 with persons of different sentiments ; this will teach 
 
i4i IMPROVEMENT 
 
 as to bear with patience a defence of opiiiions contrary 
 to our own. If we are scholars, we should also read 
 the objections against our own tenets, and view the 
 principles of other parties, as they are represented in 
 their own autiiors, and not merely in the citations of 
 those who would confute them. AVe should take an 
 honest and unbiassed survey of the force of reasoning 
 on all sides, »nd bring all to the test of unprejudiced 
 reason and divine revelation. Note, this is not to be 
 done in a rash and self-sufficient manner, but with a 
 humble dependence on divine wisdom and grace, while 
 we walk among snares and dangers. 
 
 By such a IVv^e converse witn persons of different 
 spcts( especially those who differ only in particular forms 
 of Christianity, but agree in the great and necessary 
 doctrines of it,) we shall find that there are persons of 
 good sense and virtue, persons of piety and worth, 
 persons of much candour and goodness, who belong 
 to different parties and have imbibed sentirrients oppo- ' 
 site to each other. This will soften the roughness 
 of an unpolished soul, and enlarge the avenues of oui* 
 charity towards others, and incline us to receive them 
 into all the degrees of unity and affection, which the 
 T^ord of God requires. 
 
 (3.) I might borrow further illustrations, both of this 
 freeaorn and this aversion to receive new truths, from 
 modern astronomy and natural philosophy. How 
 much is the vulgar part of the world surprised, at the 
 tali: of the diurnal and annual revolutions of the 
 earth ! They have ever been taught by their senses and 
 their neighbours to imagine the earth stands fixed in 
 the centre of the universe, and that the sun, with all the 
 planets and fixed stars are whirled round this little 
 globe once in twenty four hours ; not considering that 
 such a diurnal motion, by reason of the distance of 
 some of those heavenly bodies, must hp almost infi- 
 nitely swifter and more inconceivable than any vvhich 
 the modern astronomers attribute to them. Tell these 
 persons that the sun is fixed in the centre, that the 
 earth with all the planets roll round the sun in their 
 several periods, and that the moon rolls round the earth 
 in a lesser circle, while together with the earth she is 
 carried round the sun ; they cannot admit a syllable of 
 this new and strange doctrine, and they pronounce it ut- 
 terly contrary to all sense and reason. 
 
OF THE MIND. 143 
 
 Acquaint them that there are four moons also perpet^ 
 ually rolling round the planet Jupiter, and carried along 
 with him in his periodical circuit round the sun, which 
 little moons were never known till the year 1610, Avhen 
 Galilio discovered them with his telescope; inform 
 them that Saturn has five moons of the same kind at- 
 tending him ; and that the body of that planet is encom- 
 passed with a broad, flat, circular ring, distant from the 
 ])lanet twenty one thousand miles, and twenty one 
 thousand miles broad ; they look upon these things as 
 tales and fancies, and will tell you that the glasses do 
 but delude j'our e3'^es with vain images ; and even when 
 they themselves consult their own eye sight in the use 
 of these tubes, the narrowness of their mind is such, 
 that, they will scarce believe their senses when they 
 dictate ideas so new and strange. 
 
 And if you proceed further, and attempt to lead them 
 into a belief that all these planetary worlds are habitable, 
 and it is probable they are replenished with ititellectual 
 beings dv/elling in bodies, they will deride the folly of 
 him that informs them ; for they^ resolve to believe there 
 are no habitable worlds but this earth, and no spifitS 
 dwelling in bodies besides mankind ; and it is well if 
 they do not fix the brand of heresy on the man who isV 
 leading them out of their long imprisonment and loos- 
 ing the fetters of their souls. 
 
 There are many other things relating to mechanical 
 experiments, and to the properties of the air, water> 
 fire, iron, the loadstone, and other minerals and metals^ 
 as well as the doctrine of the sensible qualities, viz, 
 colours, sounds, tastes, kc. which this rank of men 
 cannot believe tor want of a greater amplitude of 
 mind. 
 
 The best way to convince them, is by giving them 
 some acquaintance with the various experiments in 
 philosophy, and proving by ocular demonstration the 
 multiform and amazing operations of the air pump, the 
 loadstone, the chemical furnace, optical glasses, and 
 mechanical engines. By these means the understand- 
 ing will stretch itself by degrees, and when they have 
 found there are so many new and strange things that 
 are most evidently true, they will not be so forward tc 
 condemn every new proposition in any of the oth*;" 
 sdences, or inithe affairs of religioner civil lifec 
 
144 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 III. The capacity of the understanding includes yet 
 another qualification in it, and that is, an ability to 
 receive many ideas at once without confusion. The 
 ample mind takes a survey of several objects with 
 one glance, keeps them all within sight, and presents 
 to the soul, that they niay be compared together in 
 their mutual respects; it forms just judgments, and it 
 draws proper inferences from this coinparison, even to 
 a great length of argument, and a chain of demon- 
 strations. 
 
 The narrowness that belongs to human souls in gen- 
 eral, is a great imperfection and impediment to wisdom 
 and happiness. There are but few persons who can 
 contemplate or practice several things at once ; our 
 faculties are very limited, and while we are intent upon 
 one part or property of a subject, we have but a slight 
 glimpse of the rest, or we lose it out of sight. But it 
 is a sign of a large and capacious mind, if we can with 
 one single view take in a variety of objects ; or at least 
 when the mind can apply itself to several objects with 
 so su ift a succession, and in so few moments, as attains 
 almost the same ends as if it were all done in the same 
 instant. 
 
 This is a necessary qualification in order to great 
 knowledge and good judgment ; for there are several 
 things in human life, in religion, and in the sciences, 
 which have various circumstances, appendices, and re- 
 lations attending them ; and without a survey of all 
 those ideas which stand in connexion with, and relation 
 to each other, we are often in danger of passing a false 
 judgment on the subject proposed. It is for this reason 
 there are so numerous controversies found among the 
 learned and unlearned world, in matters of religion as 
 w^ell as in the affairs of civil government. The notions 
 of sin and duty to God and our fellow creatures ; of 
 law, justice, authority, and power ; of covenant, faith, 
 justification, redemption, imd grace ; of church, bishop, 
 presbyter, ordination, kc. contain in them such com- 
 plicated ideas, that when we are to judge of any thing 
 concerning them, it is hard to take into our view at 
 once all the attendants or consequents that must and 
 will be concerned in the determination of a single 
 question : and yet without a due attention to many, or 
 most of these, we are in danger of determining that 
 questicM amiss. 
 
OF THE MIND. 14^ 
 
 It is owing to the narrowness of our minds, that we 
 are exposed to the same peril in the matters of human 
 duty and prudence. In many things which we do, we 
 ought not only to consider the mere naked action it^ 
 self, butthe persons who act, the persons towards whom, 
 the time when, the place where, the manner how, the 
 end for which the action is done, together with the ef- 
 fects that must, or that may follow, and all other sur- 
 rounding circumstances ; these thing:s must necessarily 
 be taken into our view, in order to determine whether 
 the action, which is indifferent in itself, be either lawful 
 or unlawful, good or evil, wise or foolish, decent or in- 
 decent, proper or improper, as it is so circumstantiated. 
 
 Let me give a plain instance for the illustration of 
 this matter. Mario kills a dog, which, considered 
 merely in itself, seems to be an indifferent action ; now 
 the dog was Timon's, and not his own ; this makes it 
 look unlawful. But Timon bid him do it ; this gives ic 
 an appearance of lawfulness again. It was done at 
 church, and in time of divine service ; these circum- 
 stances added, cast on it an air of irreligion. But the 
 dog flew at Mario, and put him in danger of his life ; 
 this relieves the seeming impiety of the action. Yet 
 Mario might have escaped by flymg thence ; therefore 
 the action appears to be improper. But the dog was 
 known to be mad ; this further circumstance makes it 
 tilmost necessary that the dog should be slain, lest he 
 might worry the assembly, and do much mischief. 
 Yet again, Mario killed him with a pistol, which he 
 happened to have in his pocket, since yesterday's 
 journey, now hereby the whole congregation was ter- 
 rified and discomposed, and divine service was broken 
 off; this carries an appearance of great indecency and 
 impropriety in it ; but after all, when we consider a 
 further circumstance, that Mario being thus violently 
 assaulted by a mad dog, had no way of escape, and 
 had no other weapon about him, it seems to take away 
 all the colours of impropriety, indecency, or unlawful- 
 ness, and to allow that tne preservation of one or many 
 lives will justify the act as wise and good. Now all 
 these concurrent appendices of the action ought to be 
 purveyed, in order to pronounce with justice and truth 
 concerning it. 
 
 N 
 
146 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 There are a multitude of human actions in private 
 life, ill domestic affairs, in tratRc, in civil government, 
 in courts of justice, in schools of learning, kc. whiclt 
 have so many complicated circumstances, aspects, and 
 situations, with regard to time and place, persons and 
 things, that it is impossible for any one to pass a right 
 judgment concerning them, without entering into most 
 of.thesecircumstances, and surveying them extcHsively, 
 and comparing and balancing them all aright. 
 
 Whence, by the way, I may take occasion to say. 
 How many thousands are there who take upon them to 
 pass their censures on the personal and the domestic 
 actions of others, who pronounce boldly on the affairs 
 of the public, and determine the justice or madness, 
 the wisdom or folly of national administrations, of 
 peace and war, &.c. whom neither God nor men ever 
 qualified for such a post of judgment! They were not 
 capable of entering into the numerous concurring 
 springs of action, nor had they ever taken a survey of 
 the twentieth part of the circumstances which were 
 necessary for such judgments or censures. 
 
 It is the narrowness of our minds, as well as the 
 vices of the will, that oftentimes prevents us from 
 takinj5 a full view of all the complicated and concur- 
 ring appendices that belong to human actions ; thence 
 it comes to pass, that there is so little right judgment, 
 so little justice, j)rudence, or decency, practised among 
 the bulk of mankind ; thence arise inhnite reproaches 
 and censures, alike foolish and unrighteous. You see 
 therefore how needful and happy a thing it is to be 
 possessed of some measure of this amplitude of soul, 
 m order to make us very wise, or knowing, or just, or 
 prudent, or happy. 
 
 1 confess this sort of amplitude or capacity of mind 
 is in a great measure the gift of nature, for some are 
 born with much more capacious souls than others. 
 
 The genius of some persons is so poor and limited, 
 that they can hardly take in the connexion of two or 
 three propositions, unless it be in matters of sense, and 
 ivhich they have learnt by experience ; they are utterly 
 unfit for speculative studies ; it is hard for them to 
 discern the difference betwixt right and wrong in mat- 
 ters of reason, on any abstracted subjects; these ought 
 nsver to set up for scholars,, but apply themselves to 
 
OF THE MIND. 147 
 
 tliose arts and professions of life which are to be learneti 
 at an easier rate, by slow degrees, and daily experience. 
 Others have a soul a little more capacious, and they 
 can take in the connexion of a few propositions pretty 
 well ; but if the chain of consequences be a little prolix, 
 here they stick and are confounded. If persons of 
 this make ever devote themselves to science, they 
 should be well assured of a solid and strong constitution 
 of body, and well resolved to bear the fatigue of hard 
 labour and diligence in study ; if the iron be blunt, king 
 Solomon tells us we must put more strength. 
 
 But, in the third place, there are some of so bright 
 and hapf)y a genius, and so ample a mind, that they 
 can take in a long train of propositions, if not at once, 
 yet in a very few moments, and judge well concerning 
 the dependence of them. They' can survey a variety 
 of complicated ideas without fatigue or disturbance ; 
 aftd a number of truths offering themselves as it were 
 in one view to their understanding, doth not perpley 
 or confound them. This makes a great man. 
 
 Now, though there may be much owing to nature in 
 this case, yet experience assures us, that even a lower 
 degree of this capacity and extent of thought, may be 
 increased by diligence and application, by frequent 
 exercise, and the observation of such rules as these : 
 
 I. Labour by all xneans to gain an attentive and 
 patient temper of mind, a power of confining and 
 iixing your thoughts so long on any one appointed 
 Hubject^ till you have surveyed it on every side and in 
 <'very situation, and run through the several powers, 
 pnrts, properties, and relations, effects and consequences 
 of it. He whose thoughts are very fluttering and 
 wandering, and cannot be fixed attentively to a few- 
 ideas successively, will never be able to sdrvey manj'' 
 and various objects distinctly at once, but will certainly 
 be overwhelmed and confounded with the multiplicity 
 of them. The rules for fixing the attention m the 
 former chapter are proper to be consulted here. 
 
 II. Accustom yourself to clear and distinct ideas in 
 every thing you think of. Be not satisfied with obscure 
 and confused conceptions of things, especially where 
 clearer m:<y be obtained ; for one obscure or confused 
 idea, ^ especially if it be of great importance in the 
 question, intermingled with many clear ones, and 
 
148 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 |>laced in its variety of aspects towards Ibem, will fee 
 m danger of spreading confusion over the whole scene 
 of ideas, and thus may have an unhappy influence to 
 overwhelm the understanding with darkness, and per- 
 vert the judgment. A little black paint will shamefully 
 tincture and spoil twenty gay colours. 
 
 Consider yet further, that if you content yourself 
 frequently with words instead of ideas, or with clouch' 
 and confused notions of things, how^ impenetrable will 
 that darkness be, and how vast and endless that con- 
 fusion which must surround and involve the under- 
 standing, when many of these obscure and confused 
 ideas come to be set before the soul at once ? And how- 
 impossible will it be to form a clear and just judgment 
 about them? 
 
 JIL Use all diligence to acquire and treasure up a 
 large store of ideas and notions ; take every opportuni- 
 ty to add something to your stock, and by frequent 
 recollection fix them in your memory ; nothing tendi 
 to confirm and enlarge the memory like a frequent re- 
 view of its possessions. Then the brain being well 
 furnished with various traces,, signatures, and images, 
 will have a rich treasure always ready to be proposed, 
 or offered to the soul when it directs its thought towards 
 any particular subject. This will gradually give the 
 mind a faculty of surveying many objects at once ; as 
 a room that is richly adorned and hung round with a 
 great variety of pictures strikes the eye almost at once 
 with all that variety, especially if they have been well 
 surveyed one by one at first ; this snakes il habitual and 
 more easy to the inhabitants to take in many of those 
 painted scenes with a single glance or two. 
 
 Here note, that by acquiring a rich treasure of notions, 
 1 do not mean only single ideas, but also propositions, 
 observations, and experiences, with reasonings and ar- 
 guments upon the various subjects that occur among 
 natural and moral, common or sacred affairs ; that when 
 you are called to judge concerning any question, you 
 will have some principles of truth, some useful axioms, 
 and observations,, always ready at hand to direct and 
 assii;t your judgment. 
 
 IV. 'it is necessary that we should as far as possible 
 entertain and lay up our daily new ideas in a regular 
 order, and range the acqtvisitions of our souls under 
 
OF THE MIND. 149 
 
 proper heads, whetherof divinity, law, physics, mathe- 
 matics, morality, politics, trade, domestic life, civility, 
 decency, &;c. whether of cause, effect, substance, mode, 
 power, property, body, spirit, &c. We should inure 
 our minds to method and order continually ; and when 
 we take in any fresh ideas, occurrences, and observa- 
 tions, we should dispose of them in their proper places, 
 and see how they stand and agree with the rest of our 
 notions on the same subject; as a scholar would dis- 
 pose of a new book on a proper shelf among its ki ndred 
 authors ; or as an officer at the post house in London 
 disposes of every letter he takes in, placing it in the 
 box that belongs to the proper road or county. 
 
 In any of these cases, if things lay all in a heap, the 
 addition of any neAV object would increase the confu- 
 sion ; but method gives a speedy and short survej'^ of 
 them with ease and pleasure. Method i^ of admirable 
 advantage to keep our ideas from a confused mixture, 
 and to preserve them ready for every use. The science 
 of ontology which distributes all beings, and all the 
 affections of being, whether absolute or relative, under 
 proper classes, is of good service to keep our intellect- 
 ual acquisitions in such order as that tiic mind may 
 survey them at once. 
 
 V. As method is necessary for the improvement of 
 the mind, in order to make your treasure of ideas most 
 useful ; so in all your further pursuits of truth, and ac- 
 quirements of rational knowledge, observe a regular 
 progressive method. Begin with the rnost simple, easy, 
 and obvious ideas ; then by degrees join two, and three, 
 and more of them together ; thus the complicated ideas 
 growing up under your eye and observation, will not; 
 give the same confusion of thought as they would 
 do if they were all offered to the mind at once, 
 %vithout your observing the original and formation of 
 them. 
 
 An eminent example of this appears in the study of 
 arithmetic. If a scholar just admitted into the schoo! 
 observes his master performing an operation in the rule 
 of division, his head is at once disturbed and confound- 
 ed with the manifold comparisons of the numbers of 
 the divisor and dividend, and the multiplication of the 
 one and subtraction of it frOm the other ; but if he 
 begin regularly at addition, and so proceed by subtrac- 
 N 2 
 
150 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 lion and multiplication, he will then in a few weeks bfc 
 able to take an intelligent survey of all those operations 
 in division, and to practice them himself with ease and 
 pleasure, each of which at first seemed all intricacy and 
 confusion. 
 
 An illustration of the like nature may be borrowed 
 from geometry and algebra, and other mathematical 
 l)ractices. How easily docs an expert geometrician 
 with one glance of his eye take in a complicated dia- 
 gram made up of may fines and circles, angles and 
 arches ? How readily does he judge of it, whether the 
 demonstration designed by it be true or false? It 
 was by degrees he arrived at this stretch of under- 
 standing ; he began with a single line or a point ; he 
 joined two lines in an angle: he advanced to triangles 
 "and squares, polygons and circles ; thus the powers of 
 his understanding were stretched and augmented daily, 
 till by diligence and regular application, he acquired 
 this extensive faculty of mind. 
 
 Bat this advantage does not belong only to mathe- 
 matical learning. If we apply ourselves at first in any 
 science to clear and single ideas, and never hurry our- 
 selves on to the following and more complicalea parts 
 of knowledge, till we thoroughly understand the fore- 
 going, we may practice the same method of enlarging 
 the capacitjr of the soul with success in any one of the 
 sciences, or in the affairs of life and religion. 
 
 Beginning with A, B, C, and making syllables out 
 of letters, and words out of syllables, has been the 
 foundation of all that glorious superstructure of arts 
 and sciences which have enriched the^minds and libra- 
 ries of the learned world in several ages. These are 
 the first steps by which the ample and capacious souls 
 among mankind have arrived at that prodigious extent 
 of knowledge which reriiders them the wonder and glo- 
 ry of the nation where they live. Though Plato and 
 Cicero, Descartes and Mr.'Boyle, Mr. Locke and Sir 
 Isaac Newton, were doubtless favoured by nature with 
 a genius of uncommon amplitude, yetin their early years 
 and first attempts of science, this was but limited and 
 narrow in comparison of what they attained at last. 
 But how vast and capacious were those powers which 
 they afterwards acquired by patient attention and 
 watchful observation, by the pursuit of clear ideas and 
 a regular method of thinking ! 
 
OF THE MIND. I5i 
 
 VI. Another means of acquiring this amplitude and 
 capacity of mind, is a perusal of difficult entangled 
 questions, and of the solution of them in any science. 
 Speculative and casuistical divinity will furnish us with 
 many such cases and controversies. There are some 
 such difficulties in reconcilingseveral parts of the Epistles 
 of St. Paul, relating to the Jewish law and the Chris- 
 tian gospel, a happy solution whereof will require 
 such an extensive view of things, and the reading of 
 tliese happy solutions will enlarge this faculty in young- 
 er students. 
 
 In moral and political subjects, Puffendorf's Law of 
 Nature and Nations, and several determinations there- 
 in, will promote the same amplitude of mind. An at- 
 tendance on j)ublic trials and arguments in the civil 
 courts of justice, will be of good advantage for this 
 purpose ; and after a man has studied the general prin- 
 ciples of the law of nature and the laws of England in 
 proper books, the reading the reports of adjudged ca- 
 ses, collected by men of ^reat sagacity and judgment, 
 will richly improve his mmd toward acquiring this de- 
 sirable amplitude and extent of thought, and more 
 especially in persons of that profession. 
 
 CHAP, XVII. 
 
 Of Improving the Memory, 
 
 Memory is a distinct faculty of the mind of man, 
 very different from the perception, judgment, and rea- 
 sonmg, and its other powers. Then we are said to re- 
 member any thing, when the idea of it arises in the 
 mind with a consciousness at the same time that we 
 have had this idea before. Our memory is our natural 
 power of retaining what we learn,^and of recalling it on 
 every occasion. Therefore we can never be said to 
 remember any thing, whether it be ideas or proposi- 
 tions, words or things, notions or arguments, of 
 which we have not had some former idea or perception, 
 either by sense or imagination, thought or reflection : 
 but whatsoever we learn from observation, books, or 
 conversation, &lc. it must all be laid up and preseiTcd 
 in the memory, if we would make it really useful. 
 So necessary and so excellent a faculty is the memo- 
 
152 DIPR0VE3IE1NT 
 
 ry of man, that all other abilities of the mind borrow 
 from hence their beauty and perfection ; for the other 
 capacities of the soul are almost useless without this. 
 To what purpose are all our labours in knowledge and 
 wisdom, if we want memory to preserve and use what 
 we have acquired ? What signify all other intellectual or 
 spiritual improvements, if they are lost as soon as they 
 are obtained ? It is memory alone that, enriches the 
 mind, by preserving what our labour and industry daily 
 collect. In a word, there can be neither knowledge, 
 nor arts, nor sciences, without memory ; nor can there 
 be any improvement of mankind in virtue or morals, 
 or the practice of religion, without the assistance and 
 influence of this power. Without memory the soul of 
 man would be but a poor, destitute, naked being, 
 with an everlasting blank spread over it, except tlie 
 fleeting ideas of the present moment. 
 
 Memory is very useful to those who speak, as w^ell as 
 to those who learn. It assists the teacher and the ora- 
 tor, as well as the sch olar or the hearer. The best speech - 
 esandinstructionsare almost lost,ifthose who hear them 
 immediately forget them. And those who are called 
 to speak in public are much better heard and accepted, 
 when they can deliver their discourse by the help of a 
 lively genius and a ready memory, than when they 
 are forced to read all that they would communicate to 
 their hearers. Reading is certainly a heavier way of 
 the conveyance of our sentiments ; and there are Aery 
 few mere readers who have a felicity of penetrating the 
 soul, and awakening the passions of those who hear, 
 by such a grace and power of oratory, as the man who 
 seems to talk every word from his very heart, and pours 
 out the riches of his own knowledge upon the people 
 round about him by the help of a free and copious 
 memory. This gives life and spirit to every thing that 
 is spoken, and has a natural tendency to make a deepjer 
 impression on the minds of men ; it awakens the dullest 
 spirits, causes them to receive a discourse with more 
 affection and pleasure, and adds a singular §race and 
 excellency both to the person and his oration. 
 
 A good judgment and a good memory are very dif- 
 ferent qualifications. A person may have a very strong, 
 capacious, and retentive memory, where the judgment 
 is very poor and weak: as sometimes it happens in 
 
OF THE MINB. 15« 
 
 ihosn Avho are but one degree above an ideot, who have 
 rnanifested an aftiazing strength and extent of memory , 
 but h:ive hardly been able to join or disjoin two or thre<^ 
 ideas in a wise and happy manner, lo make a solid, ra- 
 tion m1 proposition. 
 
 There liave been instfinces of others who have had 
 but a very tolerable power of memory, yet their judg- 
 ment has been of a much superior degree, just and 
 wise, solid and excellent. 
 
 Yet it must be acknowledged that where a' happy 
 memory is found in any person, there is one good foun» 
 dation laid for a wise and just judgment of things, 
 wheresoever the natural genius has any thing of sa- 
 gacity and brightness to make a right use of it. A 
 good judgment must always in some measure depend 
 upon a survey and comparison of several things togeth- 
 er in the mind, and determining the truth of some 
 doubtful proposition by that survey and comparison. 
 tVhen the mind has, as it were, set all those various 
 objects present before it, which are necessary to form 
 a true proposition or judgment concerning any thing, 
 it then determines that such and such ideas are to be 
 joined or disjoined, to be affirmed or denied, and this in 
 a consistency and correspondence with all those other 
 ideas or propositions which in any way relate or belong 
 to the same subject. Now there can be no such com- 
 preliensive survey of many things without a tolerable 
 degree of memory ; it is by reviewing things past we 
 learn to judge of the future; and it happens sometimes 
 that if one needful or important'object or idea be absent, 
 the judgment concerning the thing inquired will there- 
 by become false or mistaken. 
 
 You will inquire then, how comes it to pass that there 
 are some persons who appear in the world of business, 
 as Avell as in the world of learning, to have a good 
 judgment, and have acquired the just character of 
 prudence and wisdom, and yet have neither a very 
 bright genius or sagacity of thought, nor a very happy 
 memory, so that they cannot set before their mindn 
 at once a large scene of ideas.in order to pass a judg- 
 ment? 
 
 Now we may learn from Penseroso some accounts of 
 this difficulty. You shall scarcely ever find this man 
 forward in judging and determining things proposed to 
 him,but he always takes time, and delays, and suspend?- 
 
154 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 and ponders things maturely, before he jiassps his 
 judgment ; then he practises a slow meditation, rumi- 
 nates on the subject, and thus perhaps in two or three 
 nights and days rouses and awakens those several ideas 
 one after another as he can, which are necessarj^ in 
 order to judge aright of the thing proposed, andmakes 
 them pass before his review in succession ; this hedolh 
 to relieve the want both of a quick sagacity of thought, 
 and of a ready memory and speedy recollectit)n ; 
 and this caution and practice lays the foundation of his 
 just judgment and wise conduct. He surveys well be- 
 fore'he judgoe- 
 
 Whence 1 cannot but take occasion to infer one good 
 rule of advice to persions of higher as well as lower 
 genius, and of large as well as narrow memories, viz. 
 That they do not too hastily pronounce concerning 
 matters of doubt or inquiry, where there is not an ur- 
 gent necessity of present action. The bright genius 
 is ready to be so forward as often betrays itself into 
 great errors in judgment, speech, and conduct, 
 without a continual guard upon itself, and using the 
 bridle of the tongue. And it is by this delay and pre- 
 caution that many a person of much lower natural 
 abilities shall often excel persons of the brightest genius 
 in. wisdom and prudence. 
 
 It is often found that a fine genius has but a feeble 
 memorj^, for where the genius is bright, and the imagi- 
 nation vivid, the power of memory may be too much 
 neglected, and lose its improvement. An active fancy 
 readily wanders over a multitude of objects, and is 
 continually entertaining itself witii new flying images ; 
 it runs through a number of new scenes or new pages 
 with pleasure, but without due attention, and seldom 
 suffers itself to dwell long enough upon any one of 
 them to make a deep impression thereof upon the mind, 
 and commit it to lasting rememf)rance. This is one 
 plain and obvious reason why there are some persons 
 of very bright parts and active spirits who have hut 
 short and narrow powers of remembrance ; for, < 
 having riches of their own, they are not solicitous to 
 borrow. 
 
 And, as such a quick and various fancy and invention 
 ma)' be some hindrance to the attention and memory, so 
 H mind of a good retentive ability, and which is Q\ev 
 
OF THE MIND. IT.5 
 
 crowding its memory with tilings which it learns and 
 reads continually, may prevent, restrain, and cramp, 
 the invention itself. The memory of Lectorides is 
 very ready upon all occasions to oflfer to his mind 
 something out of other men's writings or conversations, 
 and is presenting him Avith the thoughts of other persons 
 perpetually ; thus the man who had naturally a good 
 Ho wing invention, does not suffer himself to pursue his 
 own thoughts. Some persons who have been blessed 
 by nature with sagacity, and no contemptible genius, 
 have too often forbid the exercise of it, by tying 
 themselves down to the memory of the volumes they 
 have read, and the sentiments of other men contained 
 in them. 
 
 Where the memory has been almost constantly em- 
 ploying itself in scraping together new acquirements, 
 and where there has not been a judgment sufficient to 
 distinguish what things were fit to be recommended and 
 treasured up in the memory, and what things were idle, 
 useless, or needless, the mind has been filled with a 
 wretched heap and hotch potch of words or ideas, and 
 the soul may be said to have had large possessions, but 
 no true riches. 
 
 I have read in some of Mr. Milton's writings a very 
 beautiful simile, whereby he represents the books of 
 the Fathers, as they are called in the Christian church. 
 Whatsoever, saith he. Old Time with his huge drag 
 net has conveyed down to us along the stream of ages, 
 w hether it be shells or shell fish, jewels or pebbles, 
 sticks or straws, sea Aveeds or mud, these are the an- 
 cients, these are the fathers. The case is much the 
 same with the memorial possessions of the greatest 
 part of mankind. ^ A few useful things perhaps, mixed 
 and confounded Avith many trifles and all manner of rub- 
 bish, fillup theirnaemoriesand compose their intellectual 
 possessions. It is a great happiness therefore to distin- 
 guish things aright, and to lay up nothing in the memo- 
 ry but what has some just value in it, and is worthy to 
 be numbered as a part of our treasure. 
 
 Whatsoever improvements arise to the mind of irJaii 
 from the Avise exercise of his own reasoning powers, 
 these may be called his proper manufactures ; and 
 Avhatsoever he borrows from abroad, these may be 
 termed his foreign treasures; both together make a 
 wealthy and happy mind. 
 
156 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 How many excellent judgments and reasonings are 
 framed in the mind of a'man of wisdom and study in a 
 length of years? How many worthy and admirable 
 Htjtions has he been possessed of in life, both by his 
 own reasonings, and by his prudent and laborious con- 
 nexions in the course of his reading ? But, alas ! how 
 jnaoy thousands of them vanish away again and arc 
 lost in empty air, for want of a stronger and more re- 
 tentive memory ? When a young practitioner in the 
 law was once said to contest a poujt of debate with 
 that great lawyer in the last age. Sergeant Maynard, 
 he is reported to have answered nim, Alas ! young man, 
 1 have forgot much mpre law than ever thou hast learnt 
 or read. 
 
 What an unknown and unspeakable happiness would 
 it be to a man of judgment, and who is engaged in the 
 pursuit of knowledge, if he had but a power of stamp- 
 ing all his own best sentiments upon his memory m 
 some indelible characters ; and if he could but imprint 
 every valuable paragraph and sentiment of the most 
 excellent authors he has read upon his mind with thi^ 
 same speed and facility with which he read them? If 
 a man of good genius and sagacity could but retain 
 and survey all those numerous, those wise and beautiful 
 ideas at once which have ever passed through his 
 thoughts upon any one subject, how admirably would 
 he be furnished to pass a just judgment about all present 
 objects and occurrences? What a glorious entertainment 
 and pleasure would fill and felicitate his spirit, if he 
 could grasp all these in a single survey; as the skilful 
 eye of a painter runs over a nne and complicate piecii 
 of history wrought by the hand of Titian or a Raphael, 
 views the whole scene at once, and feeds himself with 
 the extensive delight ? But these are joys that do not 
 belong to mortality. 
 
 Thus far I have indulged some loose and unconnected 
 thoughts and remarks with regard to the different 
 powers of wit, memory, and judgment ; for it was 
 very difficult to throw them into a regular form or 
 method without more room. Let us now with more 
 regularity treat of the memory alone. 
 
 Though the memory be a natural faculty of the mind 
 of man, and belongs to spirits which are not incarnate, 
 yet it is greatly assisted or hindered, and mudi diveriified 
 
0F THE MIND. Ij7 
 
 by thf. brain Ojf the animal nature, to wiiich the soul is 
 united ia this present state. But what part ofthe brain 
 tliat is, wherein the images of things lie treasured up, 
 is very hard for us to determine with certainty. It is 
 most probable that those very fibres, pores, or traces of 
 the brain, which assist at th(vfirst idea or perception of 
 any object, are the same whicli assist also at the recol- 
 lection' of it ; and then it will follow that the memory, 
 has no special part of the brain devoted to its owri 
 service, but uses all those parts in general which sub- 
 serve our sensations, as well as our thinking and rea- 
 soning powers. 
 
 As the memory grows and improves in young persons 
 from their childhood, and decays in old age, so it may 
 be increased by art and labour, and proper exercise ; 
 or it may be injured or quite spoiled by sloth, or by a 
 disease, or a stroke on the head. There are some 
 reasonings on this subject which make it evident, that 
 the goodness of a memory depends in a great degree 
 upon the consistence and the temperature of that part 
 of the brain which is appointed to assist the exercise 
 of all our sensible and intellectual faculties. 
 
 So for instance, in children ; they perceive and forget 
 a hundred things in an hour; the brain is so soft that it 
 receives immediately all impressions like water or 
 liquid mud, and retains scarcely any of them ; all the 
 traces, forms, or images which are drawn there, are 
 immediately effaced or closed up again, as though you 
 wrote with your finger on the surface of a river, or on 
 a vessel of oil. 
 
 On the contrary in old<&«^, men have a very feeble 
 remembrance of things that were done of late ; i. e. the 
 same day, or week, or year ; the brain is grown so 
 hard that the present images or strokes make little or 
 no impression, and therefore they immediately vanish : 
 Frisco in his seventy-eighth year, will tell long stories 
 of things done when he was in the battle of the Boyne, 
 almost fifty years ago, and when he studied at Oxford, 
 seven years before ; for those impressions were made 
 when the brain was more susceptive of them ; they 
 have been deeply engraven at the proper season and 
 therefore they remain. But words or things which he 
 lately spoke or did, they are immediately forgottea, 
 
158 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 beciiuse the brain is now grown more dry and solid in 
 its consibtence, and receives not much more impression 
 than if y<m wrote with your finger on u floor of clay, 
 or a plastered wall. 
 
 But ill the middle stage of life, or it may be from 
 fifteen to ftfty years of age, the memorj^ is generally 
 in its happi(>.st state ; the brain easily receives and long 
 retains the images and traces which are impressed upon 
 it ; and the natural spirits are more active to ran^e 
 these httle infinite ijnknown figures of things in their 
 proper cells or cavities, to preserve and recollect them. 
 
 Whatsoever therefore keeps the brain in its best 
 temper and consistence, may be a help to preserve the 
 memory; but excess of wine or luxury of any kind, 
 as well as excess in the studies of learning or the busi- 
 ness of life, may overwhelm the memory, by over- 
 straining and weakening the fibres of the brain, over- 
 wasting the spirits, injuring the true consistence of that 
 tender substance, and confounding the images that are 
 laid up there. 
 
 A good memory has these several qualifications : (1.) 
 It is ready to receive and admit with great ease the 
 various ideas both of words and things which are 
 learned or taught. (2.) It is large and copious to treas- 
 ure up these ideas in great number and variety. [S.) It 
 is strong and durable to retain for a considerable time 
 those words or thoughts, which are committed to it, 
 (4.) It is faithful and active to suggest and recollect, upon 
 every proper occasion, all those words or thoughts 
 which have been recommended to its care, or treasured 
 up in it. ^<% 
 
 Now in every one of th^e qualifications, a memory 
 may be injured or may be improved ; yet I shall not 
 insist distinctly on these particulars, but only in general 
 propose a few rules or directions, whereby this noble 
 faculty of memory, in all its branches and qualifications, 
 may be preserved or assisted, and show what are the 
 practices that both by reason and experience have been 
 found of happy influence to this purpose. 
 
 There is one great and general direction which be- 
 longs to the improvement of other powers as well as of 
 the memory, and that is, to keep it always in due and 
 proper exercise. Many acts by degrees form a habit, 
 and thereby the ability or powf^r is stren^henerl an^ 
 
OF THE MIND. 159 
 
 made more ready to appear again in action. Our 
 memories should be used and inured from childhood to 
 bear a moderate quantity of knowledge let into them ear- 
 ly, and they will thereby become strong for use and ser- 
 vice. As any limb well and duly exercised, grows strong- 
 er, the nerves of the body are corroborated thereby. 
 Milo took up a calf, and iiaily carried it on his shoul- 
 ders ; as the calf grew, his strength grew also, and he at 
 last arrived at firmness of joints enough to bear the bull. 
 
 Our memories will be in a great measure moulded 
 and formed, improved or injured, according to the ex- 
 ercise of them, if we never use them, they will be al- 
 most lost. Those who are wont to converse or read 
 about a few things only, will retain but a few in their 
 memory. Those who are used to remember things 
 but for an hour, and charge their memories with it no 
 longer, will retain them but an hour before they vanish. 
 And let words be remembered as well as things, that so 
 Tou may acquire a copia verborum as well asrerum, and 
 be more ready to express your mind on all occasions. 
 
 Yet there should be a caution given in some cases ; 
 the memory of a child, or any infirm person, should 
 never be overburdened ; for a limb or a joint may be 
 overstrained by being too much loaded, and its natural 
 power never be recovered. Teachers should wisely 
 kludge of the power and constitution of youth, and 
 impose no more on them than they are able to bear 
 with cheerfulness and improve'T»cnt. 
 
 And particularly they should take care that the 
 memory of the learner be not too much crowded with 
 a tumultuous heap or overbearing multitude of docu- 
 ments or ideas at one time : this is the way to remem- 
 ber nothing; one idea effaces another. An overgreedy 
 grasp does not retain the largest handful. But it is the 
 exercise of memory with a due moderation, that is one 
 general rule towards the improvement of it. 
 
 The particular rules are such as these : 
 
 1. Due attention and diligence to learn and know 
 things which we should commit to our remembrance, 
 is a rule of great necessity in this case. When the at- 
 tention is strongly fixed to any particular subject, all 
 that is said concerning it makes a deeper impression 
 upon the mind. There are some persons who complain 
 they cannot remember divine or human discourses 
 
160 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 ■which they hear, when in trutli their thoughts n\r: 
 wandering half the time, or they hear with such cold- 
 ness and indjfterence, and a trifling temper of spirit, that 
 it is no wonder the things which are read or spoken 
 make hut a slight impression on the brain, and get no 
 lirm footing in the seat of memory, but soon vanish 
 and are lost. 
 
 It is needful therefore if we would retain a long re- 
 membrance of the things wiiich we read or hear, that 
 we should engage our delight and pleasure in those 
 subjects, and use the other methods which are before 
 j)rescribed, in order to fw the attention. Sloth, indo- 
 lence, and idleness, will no more bless the mind with 
 intellectual riches, than they will fill the hand with gain, 
 the field with corn, or the purse with treasure. 
 
 Let it be added also, (hat not only the slothful and 
 the negligent deprive themselves of proper knowledge 
 for the furniture of their memory, but such as appear 
 to have active spirits, who are ever skimming over the 
 surface of things with a volatile temper, will fix nothing 
 in their mind. Vario will spend whole mornings m 
 running over loose and unconnected pages, and with 
 fresh curiosity is ever glancing over new words and 
 ideas that strike his present fancy ; he is fluttering «ver 
 a thousand objects of arts and science, and yet treasures 
 up but little knowledge. There must be the labour 
 and diligence of close attention to particular subject* 
 of thought and inquiry, which only can impress what 
 we read or think of upon the remembering faculty of 
 man. 
 
 2. Clear and distinct apprehensions of the things 
 which we commit to memory is necessary, in order to 
 make them stick and dwell there. If we would re- 
 member Avordsorlf^arn the names of persons or thing?, 
 w'e should have them recommended to our memory, by 
 :\ clear and distinct pronunciation, spelling, or writing. 
 If we would treasure up the ideas of things, notions, 
 propositions, arguments, and sciences, these should be 
 recommended also to our memory, by a clear and dis- 
 tinct perception of them. Faint, glimmering, and con- 
 fused ideas,! will vanish hke images seen in twilight. 
 Every thin^ Avhich we learn should be conveyed to the 
 understanding in the plainest expressions, without any 
 ambiguity, that we may not mistake Avhat we desire to 
 
OF THE MIND, IGf 
 
 remember. This is a general rule, whether we wouM 
 employ the memory about words or things, though it 
 must be confessed, that mere sounds and words are much 
 harder to get by heart, than the knowledge of things 
 and real images. 
 
 For this reason, take heed, (as I have often before 
 warned) that jou do not lake up with words instead of 
 thiings, nor mere sounds instead of real sentiments and 
 ideas. Many a lad forgets what has been taught him, 
 merely because he never well understood it ; he never 
 clearly and distinctly tookinthe meaning of those sounds 
 and r^yllables ivhich he was required to get by heart. 
 
 This is one true reason why boys make so poor a 
 proficiency in learning the Latin tongue, under masters 
 •who teach them by grammars and rules written in 
 Latiia, of vi/hich I have spoken before. And this is a 
 comrnon case with children when they learn their cate- 
 chisms in their early days. The language and the sen- 
 timents conveyed in those catechisms are far above the 
 undek'standing of youth of that age, and they have no 
 tolerable ideas under the Avords. This- makes the 
 answers much harder to be remembered, and in truth 
 they learn nothing but words without ideas ; andif they 
 are erer so perfect in repeating the words, yet they 
 know nothing of divinity. 
 
 And foi* this reason it is a necessary rule in teaching 
 children the principles of religion, that they should be 
 expressed in very plain, easy, and familiar words,brought 
 as low as possible down to their understandings, accor- 
 ding to their different ages and capacities ; and thereby 
 tiiey will obtain some useful knowledge when the words 
 are treasured up in their memory, because at the same 
 time they will treasure up those divine ideas too. 
 
 3. Method and regularity in the things we commit 
 to memory is necessary in order to make them take 
 more effectual possession of the mind, and abide there 
 long. As mucli as systematical learning is decried by 
 some vain and humorous triflers of the age, it is certainly 
 the happiest way to furnish the mind with a variety of 
 knowledge. 
 
 Whatsoever 5'ou would trust to your memory, 
 
 let it be disposed in a proper method, connected 
 
 well together, and referred to distinct and particular 
 
 heads or classes, both general and particular. An 
 
 02 
 
16S IMPROVEMENT 
 
 apothecary's boy will much sooner learn all the med- 
 icines in his master's shop when they are raaged in 
 boxes or on shelves according to their distinct natures, 
 whether herbs, drugs, or minerals, whether leaves or 
 roots, -whether chemical or galenical preparations, 
 whether simple or compound, kc. and when they are 
 placed in some order according to their nature, their 
 fluidity, or their consistence, k.c. in phials, bottles, galli- 
 pots, cases, drawers, &-c. So the genealogy of a family 
 IS more easily learnt when you begin at some great 
 grandfather as the root, and distinguish the stock, the 
 large boughs, the lesser branches, the twigs, and the 
 buds till you come down to the present infants of the 
 house. And indeed all sorts of arts and sciences, taught 
 in a method something of this kind, are more happily 
 committed to the mind or memory. 
 
 I might Live anotlier plain simile to confirm the/ruth 
 of this. \Vliat horse or carriage can take up and bear 
 away all the various, rude, and unwieldy loppings of a 
 branchy tree at once ? But if they are dividedyet ftrther, 
 so as to be laid close, and bounS up in a more uniform 
 manner into several faggots, perhaps those loppings 
 may be all carried at one single load or burden. 
 
 The mutual dependence of things on each otherhelps 
 the memorj^ of both. A wise connexion of the pjirts of 
 a discourse in a rational method, gives great advantage 
 to the reader or hearer in order to his remembrance of 
 it. Therefore many mathematical demonstrations in a 
 long train, may be remembered much better than a heap 
 of sentences which have no connexion. The book of 
 Proverbs, at least from the tenth chapter and onWa^d^j, 
 is much harder to remember than the book of Psalro.sj 
 for this reason ; and some Christians have told me that 
 they remember what is written in the epistle to the 
 Romans, and that to the Plebrews, much better than 
 many others of the sacred epistles, because there is 
 more exact method and connexion observed in them. 
 
 He that would leai n to remember a sermon which he 
 hears, should acquaint himself by degrees with the 
 method in which the several important parts of it are 
 delivered. It is a certain fault in a multitude of preach- 
 ers, that they utterly neglect method in their haran- 
 gues; or at least they refuse to render their method 
 visible and sensible to the hearer-. One v>ould ht\ 
 
OF THE MIND. 165 
 
 tempted to tliink it was for fear lest their auditors 
 should reraembe^* too much of their sermons, and pre- 
 vent their preaching them three or four times over ; 
 but I have candour enough to persuade myself that 
 the true reason is, they imagine it to be a more modish 
 way of preaching without particulars : lam sure it is 
 a much more useless one. Arid it would be of great 
 advantage both to the speaker and hearer, to have dis- 
 courses for the pulpit cast into a plain and easy method, 
 and the reasons or inferences ranged in a proper order, 
 and that under the words firsts secondly^ and thirdly^ 
 however they may be now fancied to sound unpolite 
 or unfashionable ; but Archbishop Tillotson did not 
 think so in his days. 
 
 4. A frequent review and careful repetition of' the 
 thmgs we would learn, and an abridgment of them 
 in a narrow compass for this end, has a great influence 
 to fix them in the memory ; therefore it is that the 
 rules of grammar, and useful examples of the variation 
 of words, and the peculiar forms of speech in any lan- 
 guage, are so often appointed by the master as lessons 
 for the scholar, to be frequently repeated ; and they 
 are contracted into tables for frequent review, that what 
 is not fixed in the mind at first, may be stumped upon 
 the memory by a perpetual survey and rehearsal. 
 
 Repetition is so very useful a practice, that Mnemoii, 
 even from his youth to his old age, never read a book 
 without making some small points, dashes, or hooks, in 
 the margm, to mark what parts of the discourse were 
 proper for a review, and when he came to the end of 
 the section or chapter, he always shut his book and 
 recollected all the sentiments or expressions he had 
 remarked, so that he could give a tolerable analysis and 
 abstract of every treatise he had read, just after he 
 had finished it. Thence he became so well furnished 
 with a rich variety of knowledge. 
 
 Even when a person is hearing a sermon or a lecture, 
 he may give his thoughts leave now and then to step 
 back so far as to recollect the several heads of it from 
 the beginning, two or three times before the lecture or 
 sermon is finished ; the omission or the loss of a sen- 
 tence or two among the amplifications is richly com- 
 pensated by preserving in tne mind the method and 
 order of the whole discourse in the most important 
 Ijranchesof it. 
 
164 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 If we would fix in the memory the discourses we 
 hear, or what we design to speak, let us abstract them 
 into brief compends, and review them often. Lawyers 
 and divines have need of such assistances ; they write 
 down short notes or hints of the principal heads of what 
 they desire to commit to their memory, in order to 
 preach or plead ; for such abstracts and epitomes may 
 be reviewed much sooner, and the several amplifying 
 sentiments or sentences will be more easily invented or 
 recollected in their proper places. The art of short 
 hand is of excellent use for this as. well as for other 
 purposes. It must be acknowledged, that those who 
 scarcely ever take a pen in their hand to write short 
 notes or hints of what they are to speak or learn^ who 
 never try to cast things into method, or to contract the 
 survey of them in order to commit them to their memo- 
 ry, had need to have a double degree of that natural 
 power of retaining and recollecting what they read or 
 hear, or intend to speak. 
 
 Do not plunge yourself into other business or studies, 
 amusements or recreations, immediately aftpr you have 
 attended upon instruction, if you can well avoid it. Get 
 lime if possible, to recollect the things you have heard, 
 that they may not be washed all away from the mind 
 by a torrent of other occurrences or engagements, nor 
 lost in the crowd or clamour of other loud and impor- 
 tant affairs. 
 
 Talking over the things which you have read with 
 your companions, on the first proper opjiortunity you 
 have for it, is a most useful manner of review o»- repeti- 
 tion, in order to fix them upon the mind. Teach them 
 your younger friends, in order to establish your own 
 knowledge, while you communicate it to them. The 
 animal powers of your tongue and of your ear, as well as 
 your intellectual faculties, will all join together to help 
 the memory. Hermitas studied hard in a remote corner 
 of the land, and in solitude, yet he became a very learn- 
 ed man. He seldom was so happy as to enjoy suitable 
 society at home, and therefore ne talked over to the 
 fields and the woods in the evening, what he had been 
 reading in the day, and found so considerable advantage 
 by this j)ractice, that he recommended it to all his 
 friends, since he could set his probadum to it for seven- 
 teen years. 
 
OF THE MIND. 165 
 
 .*>. Pleasure and delight in the tMr^gs^we learn, give 
 great assistance towards the re«iembra«ce of thehn. 
 Whatsoever therefore we desire that a child should 
 commit to bis memory, make it as pleasant to him as 
 possible ; endeavour to search his genius and his tem- 
 per ; and let him take in the instructions you give him, 
 or the lessons younppoint him, as far as may be, in a way 
 suited to his natural inclination. Fabeilus would never 
 learn any moral lessons till they were moulded into the 
 form of some fiction or fable like those of J*]sop, or till 
 they put on the appearance of a parable, like those where- 
 in our blessed Saviour taught the ignorant world. Then 
 he remembered well the emblematical instructions that 
 were given him, and learnt to practise the moral sense 
 and meaning of them. Young Spectorius was taught 
 virtue by setting before him a varietj' of examples of 
 the various good qualities in human life ; and he was 
 appointed daily to repeat some story of this kind out of 
 V alerius Maximus. The same lad was early instructed 
 to avoid the common vices and follies of youth in the. 
 same manner. This is akin to the method whereby the 
 Lacedsemonians trained up their children to hate drunk- 
 enness and intemperance, viz. by bringing a drunken 
 man into their company, and showing them what a 
 beast he had made of himself. Such visible and sensi- 
 ble forms of instruction will make long and useful im- 
 pressions upon the memory. 
 
 Children may be taught to remember many things 
 in a way of sport and play. Some young children 
 have learnt their letters and syllables, and the pronoun- 
 cing and spelling of words, by having them pasted or 
 written upon many little flat tablets or dies. Some 
 have been taught vocabularies of different languages, 
 having a word in one tongue Avritten on one side of 
 these tablets, and the same word in another tongue on 
 the other side of them. 
 
 There might be also many entertaining contrivances 
 for the instruction of children in several things relatini; 
 to geometry, geography, and astronomy, in such alluring 
 and illusory methods, which would make a most agree- 
 able, and lasting impression on their minds. 
 
 6. The memory of useful things may receive con- 
 siderable aid if tney are thrown into verse ; for the. 
 numbers, and measures, and rhyme, according to the 
 
166 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 poesy of different languages, have a considerable influ- 
 ence upon mankind, both to make them receive with 
 more ease the things proposed to their observation, 
 and preserve them longer in their remembrance. How 
 many are there of the common affairs of human life 
 Avhich have been taught in early years by the help of 
 J hyme, and have been like nails fastened in a sure place, 
 and rivited by daily use ? 
 
 So the number of the days of each month are en- 
 graven on the memory of thousands by these four lines : 
 
 Thirty days hath September, 
 April, June, and November ; 
 February twenty-eight alone, 
 And all the rest have thirty-one. 
 
 So lads have been taught frugality by surveying and 
 judging of their own expences by these three Imes : 
 
 Compute the pence but of one day's expence, 
 So many pounds and angels, groats, and pence, 
 Are spent in one whole year's circumference. 
 
 For the number of days in a year is three hundred 
 sixty-five, which number of pence makes one pound, 
 one angel, one groat, and one penny. 
 
 So have rules of health been prescribed in the book 
 called Schola Salernitani, and many a person has pre- 
 served himself doubtless from evening gluttony, and 
 the pains and diseases consequent upon it, by thes(; 
 two lines: 
 
 Ex magna arna stomadiojit maxima 'pana 
 n sis node lcvis,fU tibi c(zna hrtvis. 
 
 ENGLISHED: 
 
 To be easy all night, 
 Let your supper be light, 
 Orelse you'll complain 
 Of a stomach in pain. 
 
 And a hundred proverbial sentences in various lan- 
 j^uages are formea into rhyme or a verse, whereby 
 they are made to stick upon the memory of old anii 
 young. 
 
 It is from this principle that moral rules have been 
 cast into a poetic mould from all antiquity. So the 
 golden verses of the Pvthagoreans in Greek; Cato's 
 
OF THE MIND. 1G7 
 
 distichs De Morihiisin Latin ; Lilly's precepts to scho- 
 lars called Qui mihi^ with many others, and this has 
 been done with very good success. A line or two of 
 this kind recurring on the memory, have often guarded 
 youth from a temptation to vice and folly, as well as 
 put them in mind of their present duty. 
 
 It is for this reason also that the genders, declensions, 
 and variations, of nouns and verbs have been taught in 
 verse, by those who have complied with the prejudice 
 of long custom, to teach English children tlje Latin 
 tongue by rules written in Latin ; and, truly, those rude 
 heaps of words and terminations of an unknown 
 tongue would have never been so happily learnt by 
 heart, by a hundred thousand boys without this smooth- 
 ing artifice ; nor indeed do I know any thing else can 
 be said with good reason to excuse or relieve the obvi- 
 ous absurdities of this practice. 
 
 When you would remember new things or words, 
 endeavour to associate and connect them with some 
 words or things which you have well known before, 
 and which are fixed and established in your memory. 
 This association of ideas is of great importance and 
 force, and may be of excellent use in many instances of 
 human life. One idea which is familiar to the mind, 
 connected with others which are new and strange, wili 
 bring those new Ideas into easy remembrance. Maron- 
 ides had got the first hundred lines of Virgil's Mne'ifi 
 printed upon his memory so perfectly, that he knew 
 not only the order and number of every verse from 
 one to a hundred in perfection, but the order and num- 
 ber of every word in each verse also ; and bj' this 
 means he would undertake to remember two or three, 
 hundred names of persons or things by some rational 
 or fantastic connexion between some word in the verse, 
 and some letter, syllable, property, or accident of the 
 name or thing to be remembered, even though they 
 had been repeated but once or twice at most in hi's 
 hearing. Animatio practised much the same art of 
 memory, by getting the Latin names of twenty two 
 animals into his head according to the alphabet, viz. 
 asinuSjbasiliscus, canis, draco^ dephas, fehs, gryphus. 
 hircusjjuyenis, leo, mulus, noclua^ ovis, panther a, quad-- 
 rupes, rhinoceros^ simia, tauruSf ursus, riphias, hyc&nct. 
 or ymna,^ zibeita. Most of these he also divided into 
 
168 IMPKOVEMENT 
 
 four parts, viz. head and body, feet, fins or Avinj;^, and 
 tail, and by some arbitrary or chimerical attachment of 
 each of these to a word or thing which he desired to 
 remember, he committed them to the care of his memo- 
 ry, and that with good success. 
 
 It is also by tiiis association of ideas that we ma^^ heU 
 ter imprint any new idea upon the memory, by^joining | 
 witli it some circumstance of tiie time, place, company, 
 Sic. wherein we first observed, heard, or learnt it. If 
 we would recover an absent idea, it is useful to recol- 
 lect those circumstances of time, place, &,c. The sub- 
 stance will many times be recovered and brought to" the 
 thoughts by recollecting the shadow ; a man recurs to 
 our fancy by remembering bis garment, his size, or 
 stature, liis office, or employment, &:c. A beast, bird, 
 or fish, by its colour, figure, or motion, by the cage, 
 court yard, or cistern wherein it was kept. 
 
 To this head also we may refer that remembrance of 
 names and things which may be derived from our re- 
 collection of their likeness to other things which we 
 k'-now; either their resemblance in name, character, form, 
 accident, or any thing that belongs to them. An idea 
 or Avord which has been lost or forgotten, has often 
 been recovered by hitting upon some other kindred 
 word or idea, which has the nearest resemblance to 
 it, and that in the letters, syllables, or sound of the 
 )»ame, as woM as properties of the thing. 
 
 If we would remember Hippocrates, or Galen, or Par- 
 acelsus, think of a physician's name, beginning with H, 
 (y, or p. if we shall remember Ovidius Naso, we may 
 represent a man with a great nose ; if Plato, we may 
 thnik upon a person with large shoulders ; if Crispus, 
 we shall fancy another with curled hair; and so of 
 other things. 
 
 And sometimes a new or strange idea, may be fixed 
 in the memory, by considering its contrary or opposite*. 
 So if we cannot hit upon the word Gohath, the re- 
 membrance of David may recover it ; or the name 
 of a Trojan may be recovered by thinking of u 
 Greek, &'c. 
 
 7. In such cases, wherein it may be done, seek after 
 a local memory, or a remembrance of what you have 
 read by the side or page where it is written or printed ; 
 whether the right or left, whether at the top, the mid- 
 
OF THE MIND. 169 
 
 Uie, or the bottom ; whether at the beginning of a 
 -chapter or paragraph, or the end of it. It has been 
 some advantage, for this reason, to accustom one's 
 self to books of the same edition ; and it has been a 
 constant and special use to divines and private Cliris- 
 lians, to be furnished with several Bibles of the same 
 edition, that wheresover they are, whether in their 
 chamber, parlour, or study, in the younger or elder 
 years of life, they may find the chapters and verses 
 standing in the same parts of the page. 
 
 This IS also a great conveniency to be observed by 
 printers in the new editions of grammars, Psalips, Tes- 
 taments, &.C. to print every chapter, paragraph, br verse, 
 ill the same part of the page as the former, ^hat so it 
 may yield an happy assistance to those young learners, 
 Avho find, and even feel, the advantage of a local me 
 mory. 
 
 8. Let every thing we desire to remember be 
 fairly and distinctly written and divided into peri- 
 ods, with large characters in the beginning, for by 
 this means we shall the more readily imprint the 
 matter and words on our minds, and recollect them 
 with a glance, the more remarkable the writing appears 
 to the eye. This sense conveys the ideas to the fancy 
 better than any other ; and what we have seen is not so 
 soon forgotten as what we have only heard. What 
 Horace affirms of the mind or passions may be said 
 also of the memory. 
 
 Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem 
 Qimm quce sunt occulis suhjecta Jidelibus ,et quce 
 Ipse sibi tradit spectator . 
 
 APPLIED THUS IN ENG LISH .• 
 
 Sounds which address the ear are lost and die 
 In one short hour ; but that wliich strikes the eye 
 Livertong upon the mind ; the faithful sight 
 Engraves the knowledge with a beam of light. 
 
 For the assistance of weak memories, the first letters 
 or words of every period, in every page, may be writ- 
 ten in distinct colours ; yellow, green, red, black, fcc. 
 and if you observe the same order of colours in the 
 following sentences, it may be still the better. This 
 will make a great impri^ssion, and may much aid the 
 memory. 
 
 P 
 
iTO LMPROVEMEJXT 
 
 Under this head Ave may take notice of the advantage 
 tvhich the memory gains, by having the several objects 
 of our learning d.rawn out into schemes and Jables; 
 matters of mathematical science and natural philoso- 
 phy are not only let into the understanding, butpreserv- 
 ed in the memory by figures and diagrams. The situ- 
 ation of the several parts of the earth are better learnt 
 by one day's conversing with a map or sea chart, than 
 by mere reading the description of their situation a 
 hundred times over in books of geography. So the 
 constellations in astronomy, and their positions in 
 the heavens, are more easily remembered by hemis- 
 pheres of the stars well drawn. It is by having such 
 sort of memorials, figures, and t-ibles hung round our 
 studies, or places of residence or resort, that our memo- 
 ry of these things will be greatly assisted and improved, 
 as I have shown at large in the twentieth chapter of 
 the Use of the Sciences. 
 
 1 might add here also, that once writing over what 
 we design to remember, and giving due attention to 
 what we write, will fix it more in the mind than reading 
 it five times. And in the same manner, if we had a 
 plan of the naked lines of longitude and latitude, pro- 
 ,]ected on the meridian printed for this use, a learner 
 might more speedily advance himself in the knowledge 
 of geography by his own drawing the figures of all 
 the parts of the world upon it by imitation, than by- 
 many days survey of the map of the world so printed. 
 The same also may be said concerning the constellations 
 of heaven, drawn by the learner on a naked projection 
 of the circles of the sphere upon the plane of the 
 equator. 
 
 9. It has sometimes been the practice of men to im- 
 }3rint names or sentences on their memorj% by taking the 
 first letters of every word of that sentence, or of those 
 names, and making a new word out of them. So the 
 Tiame of the Maccabees is borrowed from the first letters 
 of the Hebrew words which make that sentence, Mi 
 Camoka Bealim Jehovah, i. e. who is like thee among 
 the gods ? Which was written on their banner§. Jesus 
 Christ our Saviour, hath been called a fish, in Greek 
 IXOYX, by the fathers, because these are the first let- 
 lers of those Greek words, Jesus Christ, God's Son, the 
 Saviour. So the word Vibgyor teaches us to rem.em- 
 
OF THE MIND. ifl 
 
 ber the order of fhe seven original colours, as they ap^ 
 pear bj' the sun beams cast through a prism on white 
 paper, or formed by the sun in a rainbow, accor- 
 ding to the different refrangibility of the rays, viz. 
 violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, and red. 
 
 In this manner the Hebrew grammarians teach their 
 students to remember the letters which change their 
 natural pronunciation by the inscription of R'dagesh, 
 by gathering these six letters, beth, gimel, daleth, caph, 
 pe, and thau, into the word Begadchepat ; and that 
 they might not forget the letters named Quiescent, viz. 
 a, h, V, and i, they are joined in the word ahevi. So the 
 universal and particular propositions in logic, are re- 
 membered by the words Barbara, celarent, Dani, ^r. 
 
 Other artificial helps to memory may be just men- 
 tioned here. 
 
 Dr. Grey, in his book called Memoria Technica, has 
 exchanged the figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, for some 
 consonants, b, d, t, f, 1, y, p, k, n, and some vowels, a, 
 e, i, o, u, and several dipthongs, and thereby formed, 
 words that denote numbers, which may be more easily 
 remembe/ed; and Mr. Lowe has improved his scheme, 
 #n a small pamphlet called Mnemonics delineated, 
 whereby in seven leaves, he has comprised almost an 
 infinity of things in science and in common life, and 
 reduced them to a sort of measure like Latin verse y 
 though the words may be supposed to be very barba- 
 rous, being such a mixture of vowels and consonants 
 as are very unfit for hariinon)^. 
 
 But after all, the very writers on this subject have 
 confessed, that several of these artificial helps of memo- 
 ry are so cumbersome as not to be suitable to every 
 temper or person ; nor are they of any use for the 
 delivery of a discourse by memory, nor of much ser- 
 vice in ],earnlng the sciences; but they may be some- 
 times practised for the assisting our remembrance of 
 certain sentences, numbers, and names. 
 
 CHAP. xvin. 
 
 - Of Determining a Qiicstion. 
 
 1> Vy HEN a subject is proposed to your thoughts, 
 consider whether it be knowable at all, or no ; and then 
 
172 liVlPROVEMENT 
 
 whether it be not above the reach of your inquiry and 
 knowledge in the present state ; and remember that it 
 is a great waste of time to busy yourselves too much 
 among unsearchables ; the chief use of these studies is 
 to keep the mind humble, by finding its own ignorance 
 and weakness. 
 
 II. Consider again whether the matter be worthy of 
 your inquiry at all ; and then, how far it may be worthy 
 of your present search and labour according to your 
 age, your time of life, your station in the world, your 
 capacity, your profession, your chief design and end. 
 There are many things worth inquiry to one man, 
 \vhichare not so to another; and there are things that 
 may deserve the study of the same pe4'son in one part 
 of life, which would be improper or impertinent at an-, 
 other. To read books of tlie art of preaching, or 
 disputes about church discipline, are proper for a theo- 
 logical student in the end of his academical studie??. 
 but not at the beginning of them. To pursue mathe- 
 matical studies very largely, may be useful for a pro- 
 fesser of philosophy, but not for a divine. 
 
 III. Consider whether the subject of your inquiry 
 be easy or difficult ; whether you have sufficient founda'* 
 tion or skill, furniture and advantages, for the pursuit of 
 it. It would be madness for a young statuary to 
 attempt at first to carve a Venus or a Mercury, and 
 especially without proper tools. And it is equally folly 
 for a man to pretend to make great improvements in 
 nattiral philosophy without due experiments. 
 
 IV. (Jonsider whether the subject be any ways use- 
 ful or no, before you engage in the study of it ; often 
 put this question to yourselves, Cui bono ? To what 
 purpose ? What end will it attain ? Is it for the glory 
 of God, for the good of men, for your own advantage, 
 for the removal of any natural or moral evil, for the 
 attai«unent of any natural or moral good ? Will the 
 |>rofit be ecjual to the labour ? There are many sub- 
 tile impertinencies learnt in the schools, many pain- 
 ful trifles even among the mathematical theorems and 
 problems, many difficiles nugce, or laborious follies of 
 various kinds, which some ingenious men have been 
 engaged in. A due reflection upon these things will 
 call the mind away from vain amusements, and save 
 much time. 
 
OF THE MIND. 17^ 
 
 V. Consider what tendency it Jias to make you wiser 
 and better, as well as to make you more learned ; and 
 those questions which tend to wisdom and prudence 
 in our conduct among men, as well as piety toward 
 God, are doubtless more important, and preferable be- 
 yond all those inquiries which only improve our 
 knowledge in mere speculations. 
 
 VI. If the question appear to be well worth your 
 diligent application, and you are furnished witfi the 
 necessary requisites to pursue it, then consider whether 
 it be drest up and entangled in more words than is 
 needful, and contain or include more complicated ideas 
 than is necessary ; and if so, endeavour to reduce it to 
 a greater simplicity and plainness, which will make the 
 inquiry and argument easier and plainer all the way. 
 
 VII. If it be stated in an improper, obscure, or irre- 
 gular form, it may be meliorated by changing the 
 phrase, or transposing the parts of it ; but be careful 
 always to keep the grand and important point of inqui- 
 ry the same in your new stating the c|uestion. Little 
 tricks and deceits of sophistry, by sliding in, or leaving 
 out such words as entirely change the question, should 
 be abandoned and renounced by all fair disputants and 
 honest searchers after truth. 
 
 The stating a question with clearness and justness 
 goes a great way many times toward the answering it. 
 The greatest part of true knowledge lies in a distinct 
 perception of things which are in themselves distinct ; 
 and some men give more light and knowledge by the 
 bare stating of the (juestion with perspicuity and justice, 
 than others by talking of it in gross confusion for whole 
 liours together. To state a question is but to separate 
 and disentangle the parts of it from one another, as well 
 as from every thing which doth not concern the ques- 
 tion,'and then to lay the disentangled parts of the ques- 
 tion in due order and method ; oftentimes without 
 more ado this'fully resolves the doubt, and shows the 
 mind where the truth lies, without argument or disfjute. 
 
 VIII. If the question relate to an axiom or first princi- 
 ple of truth, remember that a long train of consequences 
 may depend upon it, therefore it should not be suddenly 
 admitted or received. 
 
 It is not enough to determine the truth of a propo- 
 sition, much less to raise it to the honour of an axiom 
 ■ P S 
 
lU IMPROVEMENT 
 
 or first principle, to say, that it has been bfelieved 
 through many ages, that it has been received by many 
 nations, that it is ahnost universally acknowledged, or 
 nobody denies it, and that it is established by hiiman 
 laws, or that temporal penalties or approaches will attend 
 the disbelief of it. 
 
 IX. Nor is it enough to forbid any proposition the 
 title of an axiom, because it has been denied by some 
 persons, and doubted by others ; for some persons have 
 been unreasonably credulous, and others have been as 
 unreasonably sceptical. Then only should a proposi- 
 tion be called an axiom or a self-evident truth, when, 
 by a moderate attention to the subject and predicate, 
 their connexion appears in so plum a light, and so clear 
 an evidence, as needs no third idea, or middle term, to 
 prove them to be connected. 
 
 X. While 3'ou are in search after truth in questions 
 of a doubtful nature, or such as you have not yet tho- 
 roughly examined, keep up a just indifference to either 
 side of the question, if you would be led honestly into 
 the truth ; for a desire or inclination leaning to either 
 side, biases the judgment strangely ; whereas by this 
 indifference for every thing but truth, you will be excited 
 to examine ftiirly instead of presumin'g, and your assent 
 will be secured from going beyond your evidence. 
 
 XL For the most part people are bom to their opin- 
 ions, and never question the truth of what their family, 
 or their country, or their party profess. They clothe 
 their minds as they do their bodies, after the fashion in 
 vogue, nor one of a hundred ever examines their prin- 
 ciples. It is suspected of lukewarmness to suppose 
 examination necessary, and it will be charged as a ten- 
 tiency to apostacy if we go about to examine them. 
 Persons arn applauded for presuming they are in the 
 light, and (as Mr. Locke saith) he that considers and 
 inquires into the reason of things is counted a foe to 
 orthodoxy, because possibly he may deviate from some 
 of the received doctrines. And thus men without any 
 industry or acquisition of their own (lazy and idle as 
 they are) inherit local truths, i. e. the truths of that place 
 where they live, and are inured to assent without 
 evidence. , \ 
 
 This hath a long and unhappy influence ; for if a man 
 ran bring his mind onee to be positive and fierce for 
 
OF THE MIND. 17.5 
 
 "propositions whose evi<]ence he hath never examined, 
 and that in matters of the greatest concernment, he w.ill 
 naturally follow this short and easy way of judging 
 and believing in cases of less moment, and build all 
 his opinions upon insullicient grounds. 
 
 XII. In deteniiii]ing a ^ueption, especially when it is 
 a matter of difficulty and importance, do not take up 
 with partial examination, but turn your thoughts on all 
 sides, to gather in all the light you can toward the 
 solution of it. Take time, and use all the helps that are 
 to be attained before yoo fully determine, except only 
 where present necessity cf action Calls for speedy deter- 
 mination. 
 
 If you would know what may be called a partial ex- 
 amination, take these instances, viz. 
 
 When you examine an objeet of sense, or inquire iota 
 some matter of sensation at too great a distance from, 
 the object, or in an inconvenient sitiaation of it, or un- 
 der any indisposition of the organs, or any disguisei 
 whatsoever relating to the medium or the organ of the 
 object itself; or when you exjunine it by one sense on- 
 ly, where others might be employed ; or when you in- 
 quire into it by sense only, without the use of the un- 
 derstanding, and judgment, and reason. 
 
 If it be a question which is to be determined by rea- 
 son and argument, then your examination is partial, 
 when you turn the question only in one light, and do 
 rot turn it on all sides ; when you look upon it only h\ 
 its relations and aspects to one sort of ofejects, and not 
 to another ; when^ou consider only the advantages of 
 it, and the reasons for it, and neglect to think of the 
 jeasons against it, and never survey its inconveniences 
 too ; when you determine on a sudden, before you hava 
 given yourself a due time for weighing all circumstan- 
 ces, &:c. 
 
 Again, If it be a ijuestion of fact depending upon the 
 report or testimony of men, your examination is but 
 partial, when you inquire only what one man or a few 
 saVj and avoid the testimony of others; when you only 
 ask what those report who were not eye or ear 
 witnesses, and neglect those who saw and heard 
 it ; when you content yourself with mere loose andgen- 
 eral talk about it, and never enter into particulars ; or 
 when there are 9iany who deny the fact, and you n^vei+ 
 
17G IMPROVEMENT 
 
 concern yourself about their reasons for denywig ii^ ^ 
 but resolve to believe only those who affirm it. 
 
 There is yet further a fault in your partial examina- 
 tion of any question when you resolve to determine it 
 by natural reason only, where you might be assisted by 
 supernatural revelation ; or when you decide the point 
 by some word or sentence, or by some part of revela- 
 tion, without compafing it with other parts, which might 
 give further light and better help to determine the 
 meaning. 
 
 It is also a culpable partiality if you examine some 
 doubtful or pretended vision or revelation %vithout the 
 use of reason ; or without the use of that revelation, 
 •which is undoubted and sufficiently proved to be di- 
 vine. These are all instances of imperfect examina- 
 tion, and we should never determine a question by one 
 or two lights, where we may have the advantage of 
 three or four. 
 
 XIII. Take heed lest some darling notion, some fa- 
 Tourite hypothesis, some beloved doctrine, or some 
 common but unexamined opinion, be made a test of 
 the truth or falsehood of all other propositions about 
 ijie same subject. Dare not build much upon such a 
 notion or doctrine till it be very fully examined, accu- 
 jrately adjusted, and sufficiently confirmed. Some per- 
 sons, by indulging such a practice, have been led into 
 long ranks of error ; they have found themselves in- 
 volved in a train of mistakes, by taking up some petty 
 bypothesis or princiiJle, either in philosophy, politics, 
 or relieion, upon slight and insufficient grounds, and 
 establishing that as a test and rule by which to judge 
 of all other thing's. 
 
 XIV. For the same reason, have a care of suddenly 
 determining any one question on which the determi- 
 nation of any kmdred or parallel cases will easily or 
 naturally follow. Take heed of receiving any wrong 
 turn in your early judgment of things ; be watchful as 
 far as possible, against any false bias which may be 
 f;iven to the understanding, especially in younger years. 
 The indulgence of some one silly opinion, or the giving 
 credit to one foolish fable, lays the mind open to be 
 imposed upon by many. The ancient Romans were 
 taught to believe that Romulus and Remus, the foun- 
 ii^rs of their state and empire, were exposed in the 
 
OF THE MIND. 17T 
 
 woods, and nursed by a wolf: This story prepared 
 their minds for the reception of tales of the like nature 
 relating to other countries. Trogns Pompeius Avould 
 enforce the belief, that one of the ancient kings of 
 Spain was also nursed and suckled by a hart, from the 
 fable of Romulus and Remus. It was by the same in- 
 lluence they learned to give up their hopes and fears 
 to omens and soothsaying, when they were once per- 
 suaded that the greatness of their empire, and the glory 
 of Romulus their founder, were preaicted by the hap- 
 py omen of twelve, vultures appearing to him when 
 he sought where to build the city. They readily re- 
 ceived all the following legends of prodigies, auguries, 
 and prognostics, for many ages together, with which 
 Livy has furnished his huge history. 
 
 So the child who is once taught to believe any Oi^e 
 occurrence to be a good or evil omen, or any day of 
 the month or week to be lucky or unlucky, hath a wide 
 inroad made on the soundness of his understanding in 
 the following judgments of his life ; he lies ever open 
 to all the silly impressions, and idle tales of nurses, and 
 imbibes many a foolish story with greediness, which 
 he must unlearn again, if ever he becomes acquainted 
 with truth and wisdom. 
 
 XV. Have a care of interesting your warm and re- 
 ligious zeal in those matters which are not sufficiently 
 evident in themselves, or which are not fully and tho- 
 roughly examined and proved ; for this zeal, whether 
 right or wrong, when it is once engaged, will have a 
 powerful influence to establish your own minds in 
 those doctrines which are really doubtful, and to stop 
 up all the avenues of further light. This will bring 
 upon the soul a sort of sacred awe and dread of here- 
 sy ; with a divine concern to maintain whatever opinion 
 you have espoused as divine, though perhaps you have 
 espoused it j\'ithout any just evidence, and ought to have 
 renounced it as false and pernicious. 
 
 We ought to be zealous for the most important points 
 of our religion, and to contend earnestly for the faith 
 once delivered to the saints ; but we ought not to em- 
 ploy this sacred fervour of spirit in the service of any 
 article, till we have seen it made out with plain ant^ 
 strong conviction, that it is a necessary or important 
 point of faith or practice, and is either an evident die 
 
17 & IMPROVEMENT 
 
 fate of the ii.^ht of nature, or an assured article of reve- 
 lation. Zeal must not reign over the powers of our 
 understanding, hut ohey them : G<ni is the God of light 
 and truth, a God of reason and order, and he never rer 
 
 Suires mankind to use their natural faculties amiss for 
 le support of his cause. Even the most mysterious 
 and sublime doctrines of revelation are not to be be- 
 Iie\'ed without a just reason for it ; nor should our 
 pious affections beengajjjed in the defence of them, till 
 •we have plain and convincing proof that they are cer- 
 tainly revealed, though perhaps we may never in this 
 "world attain to sucii clear and distinct ideas of them as 
 ive desire. 
 
 XVI. As a warm zeal ought never to be ^mployd in 
 the ^defence of any revealed truth, till our reason be 
 well convinced of the revelation ; so neither should 
 •wit and banter, jest and ridicule, ever be indulged to 
 oppose or assault any doctrines of professed revelation, 
 till reason has proved they are not really revealed ; and 
 even then these methods should be used but very sel- 
 dom, and with the utmost caution and prudence. 
 Haillery and wit were never made to answer our in- 
 ouiries after truth, and to determine a question of ra- 
 tional controversy; though they may sometimes be 
 serviceable to expose to contempt those inconsistent 
 follies which have been first abundantly refuted by ar- 
 gument; they serve indeed only to cover nonsense 
 •with shame, -when reason has first proved it to be mere 
 nonsense. 
 
 It is therefore a silly and most unreasonabie test 
 "which some of our deists have introduced to judge of 
 divine revelation, viz. to try if it will hear ridicule and 
 laughter. They are effectually beaten in all their com- 
 bati at the weapons of men, that is, reason and argu- 
 ment ; and it would not be unjust (though it is a little 
 micourtly ) to say, that they would no w attack our religion 
 •with the talents of a vile animal ; that is, grin and gri- 
 mace. 
 
 I cannot think that a jester or a monkey, a droll or a 
 puppet, can be proper judges or deciders of contro- 
 versy. That which dresses up all things in disguise, is 
 not likely to lead us into any just sentiments about 
 them. I^lato or Socrates, C»sar or Alexander, might 
 have a fool's coat clapt upon any of them, and perhaps 
 in this disguise, neither the wisdom of the-one, nortiie 
 
OF THE MIND. 179 
 
 majesty of the other, would secure them from a sneer ; 
 this treatment would never inform us whether they 
 were kings or slaves, whether they were fools or phi- 
 losophers. The strongest reasoning, the best sense, and 
 the politest thoughts, may be set in a most ridiculous 
 light by tbisgiinning faculty ; the most obvious axioms 
 of eternal truth may be dressed in a very foolish form, 
 and wrapped up in artful absurdities by this talent ; but 
 they are truth and reason, and good sense still. Euclid, 
 with ail his demonstrations, might be so covered and. 
 overwhelmed with banter, that a beginner in the math- 
 ematics might be tempted to doubt whether his theo- 
 rems were true or no, and to imagine they could never* 
 be useful. So weaker minds might be easily prejudi- 
 ced against the noblest principle of truth and goodness - 
 and the younger part of ratinkind might be beat off 
 from the belief of the most serious, tlie most rational, 
 and important points, even of natural rehgion, by the> 
 impudent jests of a profane wit. The moral dqties of 
 the civil life, as well as the articles of Christianity, may 
 be painted over with the colours of folly, and exposed 
 upon a stage, so as to ruin all social and personal virtues 
 among the gay and thoughtless part of the world. 
 
 XYII. It should be observed also, that these very- 
 men cry out loudly against the use of all severe railing 
 and reproach in debates, and all penalties and persecu- 
 tions of the state, in order to convince the mmds and 
 consciences of men, and determine points of truth and 
 error. Now 1 renounce these penal and smarting meth- 
 ods of conviction as much as they do, and yet I think^ 
 still these are every whit as wise, as just, and as good 
 for this purpose, as banter and ridicule. Why should 
 public mockery in print, or a merry joke upon a stage, 
 be a better test of truth, than severe railing sarcasms, 
 and public persecutions and penalties ? Why should 
 more light be derived to the understanding, by a song of 
 scurrilous mirth, or a witty ballad, than there is by a 
 rude cudgel ? When a professor of any religion is set 
 up to be laughed at,! cannot see how this should help 
 us to judge of the truth of his faith any better than if 
 we were scourged. The jeers of a theatre, the pillory, , 
 and the whippmg post, are very near akin. When the ^ 
 person or his opinion is naade the jest of tiie inob= or"' 
 
180 DIPROVEMENT 
 
 his back the shambles of the executioner, 1 think there 
 is no more conviction in the one than in the other, 
 
 XVIII. Besides supposing it is but barely possibla 
 that the great God should reveal his mind and will to 
 men by miracle, vision, or inspiration, it is a piece of 
 contempt and profane insolence to treat any tolerable 
 or rational appearance of such a revelation with jest and 
 laughter, in order to find whether it be divine or not. 
 And yet if this be a proper test of revelation, it may 
 be properly applied to the true as well as the false, ia 
 order to distinguish it. Suppose a royal proclamation 
 Tvere sent to a distant part of the kingdom, and some of 
 the subjects should doubt whether it came from the 
 king or no: Is it possible that wit and ridicule should 
 ever decide the pouit? Or would the prince ever think 
 himself treated with just honour to have iiis proclama- 
 tion canvassed in this manner on a public stage, and 
 become the sport of buffoons, in order to determine 
 the question, whether it is the word of a king or no .•' 
 
 Let such sort of Avriters ^o on at th«ir dearest peril, 
 and sport themselves in their own deceivings ; let them 
 at their peril make a jest of the Bible, and treat the sa- 
 cred articles of Christianity with scoff and merriment : 
 but then let them lay aside" all their pretences to reason 
 as well as religion ; and as they expose themselves by 
 mch writings to the neglect and contempt of men, so 
 let them prepare to meet the majesty and indignation 
 of God without timely repentance. 
 
 XrX. In reading philosophical, moral, or religious 
 controversies, never raise your esteem of any opinion 
 by the assurance and zeal wherewith the author asserts 
 it, nor by the highest praises he bestows upon it ; nor 
 on the other hand, let your esteem of an opinion be 
 abated, nor j'^our aversion to it raised by the super- 
 cilious contempt cast upon it by a warm writer, nor by 
 the sovereign heirs with which he condemns it. Let 
 the force of argument alone influence yourassentor dis- 
 sent. Take cjire that your soul be not warped or biass- 
 ed on one side or the other, by any strains of flattering 
 or abusive language ; for there is no question whatsoev- 
 ^' er, but hath some such sort of defenders and opposers. 
 ^"^'^eave those WTiters to their own follies, who practice 
 i^^hus upon the weakness of their readers without argu,- 
 
OF THE MIND. 18t 
 
 ment; leave them to triumph in their own fancied 
 possessions and victories ; it is oftentimes found that 
 their possessions are but a heap of errors, and their 
 boasted victories are but overbearing noise and clamour 
 to silence the voice of truth. 
 
 In philosophy and religion, the bigots of all parties 
 are generally the most positive, and deal much in this 
 sort of argumetJt. Sometimes these are the Aveapons 
 of pride ; for a haughty man supposes all his ojjinions 
 to be infallible, and imagines the contrarj^ sentiments 
 are ever ridiculous, and not worthy: of notice. Some- 
 times these ways of talking are the mere arms of 
 ignorance: The men who use them know little of the 
 opposite side of the question, and therefci'e they exult 
 in their own vain pretences to UnowleAs^^jas though no 
 man of sense could oppose their op'nions. They rail 
 •^at an objection against thei.- own sentlmeiits, because 
 they can find no other answer <o it but railing. And 
 men of learning, by their exce=5sive vanity, have been 
 sometimes tempted into the same insoleat practice, as 
 well as the ignorant. 
 
 Yet let it be rem^emJtered too, that there are some 
 truths so plain and evident, that the opposition to them 
 h strange, unaccountalie, and almost monstrous ; and 
 in vindication of such truths, a writer af good sense 
 may sometimes be allowed to use a degree of assurance, 
 and pronounce theai strongly with an air of confidence, 
 while he defends them with reasons of convincing 
 force. 
 
 XX. Sometimes a question may be proposed which 
 h of so large and extensive a nature, and refers to such a 
 muJtituile of subjects, as ought not in justice to be 
 determined at once by a single argument or answer; as 
 if one should ask me. Are you a professeddisciple of the 
 Stoics or the Platonists ? Do you receive and assent to 
 the principles of Gassendus, Descartes, or Sir Isaac 
 Newton ? Have you chosen the hypothesis of Tycho 
 or Copernicus? Have you devoted yourself to the 
 sentiments of Arminius or Calvin ? Are your notions 
 Episcopal, Presbyterian, or Independent ? &c. I think 
 it may be very proper in such cases not to give an an= 
 swer in the gross, but rather to enter into a detail 
 «!)f particulars, and explain ones own sentiments. 
 
tm IMPROVEMENT 
 
 Perhaps there is no man, nor set of men, upon earfhr^ 
 whose sentiments I entirely follow. God has given me 
 reason to judge for myself, and though I may see sufEL- 
 cient ground to agree to the greatest part of the opin- 
 ions of one person or party, yet it does by no means 
 follow that 1 should receive them all. Truth does not 
 always go by the lump, nor does error tincture and 
 spoifall the articles of belief thxit some one party pro- 
 fessf's. 
 
 Since there are difficulties attend every scheme of 
 human knowledge, it is enough for me in the main 
 to incline to that side which has the fewest difficulties j 
 and I would endeavour, as far as possible, to correct the 
 mistakes or the harsh expressions of one party, by 
 softening and rtconcilin^ methods, by reducing the ex- 
 tremes, and by borrowing some of the best principles 
 or ph.rases from ano\her. Cicero was one of the great- 
 est men of antiquity, atxl gi\ ei? us an account of the 
 various opinions of phj'osophers in his age ; but he 
 himself was of the electic sect, and chose out of each 
 of them such positions as in Vjis wisest judgment came 
 Dearest to the truth. 
 
 XXI. When you are called in the course of life or 
 religionto judge and determine concerning any ques- 
 tion, and to affirm or deny it, take a full survey of the 
 objections against it, as well as of ibe argumer^s for it 
 as far as your time and circumstances admit, and see 
 on Avhich side the preponderation falls. If either the 
 objections against any proposition, or the arguments 
 foi- the defence of it, carry in them most urMioubted 
 evidence, and are plainly unanswerable, they will and 
 ought to constrain the* assent, though there may be 
 many setming probabilities on the other side, which at 
 first sight would flatter the iudgraent to favour it. But 
 where the reasons on both sides are very near of equal 
 weight, there suspension, or doubt is our duty, unless 
 in cases wherein present determination or practice is 
 required, and there we must act according to the present 
 appearingpreponderation of reasons. 
 
 XXTI. ni matters of moment and importance, it is 
 our dut)' indeed to seek after certain and conclusive 
 arguments, (if they can be fouiid) in order to determine 
 a .question ; but where the matter is of little conse- 
 
OF THE MIND. 183 
 
 quenceit IS not worth our labour to spend much time in 
 seeking after certainties ; it is sufficient here, if probable 
 reasons offer themselves. And even in matters of 
 greater inaportance, especially where daily practice is 
 necessary, and where we cannot attain any sufficient or 
 certain grounds to determine a question on either side, 
 we must then take up with such probable arguments 
 as we can arrive at. But this general nUe should be 
 observed, viz. to take heed that our assent be no strong- 
 er, or rise no higher in the degree -of it, than the proba- 
 h\e argument will support. 
 
 XXIIl. There are many things, even in religion, as 
 well as in philosophy and civil life, which we believe 
 tvith very different degrees of assent ; and this is or 
 should be always regulated according to the different 
 degrees of evidence which we enjoy ; and perhaps 
 there are a thousand gradations in our assent to the 
 things we believe, because there are thousands of cir- 
 cumstances relating to different questions, which in- 
 crease or diminish the evidence we have concerning 
 them, and that in matters both of reason and revelation. 
 
 1 believe there is a €fod, and that obedience is due to 
 him from every reasonable creature ; this I ani most 
 fully assured of, because 1 have the strongest evidence, 
 since it is the plain dictate both of reason and revela- 
 tion. 
 
 Again, I believe there is a future resurrection of the 
 dead, because scripture tells us so in the plainest terms, 
 though reason says nothing -of it. I believe also that 
 the same matter of our bodies which died (in part at 
 least) shall ad?e ; but 1 am not so fully assured of this 
 circumstance, because the revelation of it is not quite 
 so clear and express. Yet further I believe, that the 
 good men who were acquainted here on earth shall 
 know each other in heaven ; but my persuasion of it is 
 not absolutely certain, beeatise my assent to it arises 
 only from circumstantial reasonings of men upon what 
 Gocl has told us, and therefore my evidences are not 
 strong beyond a possibility of mistake. This direc- 
 tion cannot 1k'. too often repeated, that our assent ought 
 always to ke«p pace with our evidence; and our belief 
 of any proposition should never rise higher than the 
 proof, or evidence we have to support it, nor should 
 cKir faitli run faster than right reason can encourage it 
 
184 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 XXIV. Perhaps it will be objected here, why thca 
 does -our Saviour, in the histories of tho Gospel, sa 
 much commend a stren?; l'nith, and lay out both liis 
 miraculous benefits and his praises upon some of those 
 poor creatures of little reasoning, who professed ait 
 assured belief of his commission and power to heal 
 them ? 
 
 I answer, tlue tJod of nature has given every man 
 his own reason, to be the judge of evidence to him- 
 self, in particular, an-d to direct his assent in all things 
 about which he i;> called to Judge; and even the mat- 
 ters of revelation are to be believed by us, because our 
 reason pronounces the revelation to be true. There- 
 fore the great God will not, or cannot, in any instance, 
 require us to assent to any thing without reasonable or 
 sufficient evidence, nor to believe any proposition more 
 strongly than what our evidence for it will support. 
 We have therefore abundant ground to believe that 
 those persons of whom our Saviour requires such 
 strong faith, or whom he commends for their strong 
 faith, had as strong and certain evidence of his power 
 and commission from the credible and incontestible 
 reports they had heard of his miracles, which were 
 wrought on purpose to give evidence to his commis- 
 sion.* Now in such a case, both this strong faith and 
 the open profession of it, were very worthy of public 
 encouragement and praise from our Saviour, because 
 of the great and public opposition which the magis- 
 trates and the priests, and the doctors of the age, made 
 against Jesws, the man of Nazareth, when he appeared 
 as the Messiah. 
 
 And besides all this, it may be reasonably supposed, 
 with regard to some of those strong exercises of faith 
 which are required and commended, that these believ- 
 ers had some further hints of inward evidence and im- 
 mediate i-evelation from God himself; as when St. Pe- 
 
 * TVTien our Saviour gently reproves Thomas for his unbelief, (John 
 XX. 2d.) he does ii in these words: " Bfcniise thou bast seen me, Thom- 
 as, thou hast believed ; blessed iire ihej* who have not seen, and yet hnvc 
 belii-vcd," L e. "Blessetl are they who, "thou rrh they have not beeii favour- 
 ed with the evi<ienre of tlieir senses as thou ha'st been, yet have been 
 convinced by the reasonable and suffifient moral evidence of the well 
 grnanded re^>o' • of others, and hnvt^ believed in me upon that evidence." 
 Of tbis niorat evid<-nce Mr. Ditton writes exceedingly well in hi» book 
 of the Resurr^ctien of Cbriit. 
 
OF THE MIND. 185 
 
 ter confesses Christ to he the Son of God, Matt. xvl. 
 IQ, 17, our blessed Saviour commends him, saying, 
 " Blessed art thou Simon Barjona :" But he adds, 
 " Flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my 
 Father which is in heaven." 
 
 And the same may be said respecting the faith of 
 miracles, the exercise of which was sometimes required 
 of the disciples and others ; i. c. when by inward nnd 
 divine influences, God assured them such miracles 
 should be wrought, their obedience to and compliance 
 with these divine illuminations was expected a«<i com- 
 mended. Now this supernattu-al inspiration carried 
 sufficient evidence with it to them, as well as to the an- 
 cient prophets,though we who never felt it are not so 
 capable to judjje and distinguish it. 
 
 XXV. AVhathssaid before concernin^truth ordoctrines 
 may be also affirmed concerning duties ; the reason of 
 both is the same ; as the one are truths for our Sf»ecu- 
 lation, the others are truths for our practice. I)uties 
 which are expressly required in the plain languagie of 
 scripture, or dictated by the most evident reasoning 
 upon first principles, ought to bind our consciences 
 more than tnose which are but dubiously inferred, and 
 that only from occasional occurrences, incidents, and 
 circumstances ; as for instance, I am certain that I 
 ought to pray to God ; my conscience is bound to this, 
 because there are most evident commands for it to be 
 found in scripture, as weli as to be derived from reason. 
 1 believe also that 1 may pray to Go-1, either by a writ- 
 ten form, or without one, because neither reason nor 
 revelation expressly requires either, of these modes of 
 prayer at all times, or forbids the other. I cannot 
 therefore bind toy conscience to practise the one so as 
 utterly to renounce the other ; but F would practise 
 either of them as my reason and other circumstances 
 direct me. 
 
 Again, I believe that Christians ought to remember 
 the death of Christ by the symbols of bread and wine ; 
 and I believe there ought to be pastors in a Christian 
 church some way ordained or set apart to lead the 
 worship, and to bless and distribute these elements; 
 but the last of these practices is not so expressly direct- 
 ^, prescribed, and required in scripture as the former s 
 
186 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 and therefore I feel my conscience evidently bound t© 
 remember the death of Christ with some society of 
 Christians or other, since it is a most plain command, 
 tiiough their methods of ordaining a pastor be very 
 different from other men, or from my own opinion ; 
 or whether the person who distributes these elements 
 be only an occasional or a settled administrator; since 
 none of these things are plainly determined in scrip- 
 ture. I must not omit or neglect an express command, 
 because some unnecessary circumstances are dubious. 
 And I trust I shall receivf. approbation from the God 
 of nature, and from Jesus my Judge at the last day, if 
 I have endeavoured in this manner to believe and prac- 
 tice every thing in proportion to the degree of evidence 
 which God has ^iven me about it, or which he has pui 
 me into a capacity to seek and obtain in the age and 
 nation wherein I live. 
 
 Query. Whether the obstinate Deists, and Fatalists 
 of Great Britain, will find sufficient apology from 
 this principle ? But I leave them to venture the awful 
 experiment. 
 
 XXVI. We may observe these three rules, in judg- 
 ing of probabilities which are to be determined 
 by reason, relating either to things past, or things to 
 come. 
 
 1. That which agrees most Avith the constitution of 
 nature carries the greatest probability in it, where no 
 other circumstance appears to counterpoise it ; as, if 
 I let loose a greyhound within sight of a have upon a 
 large plain, there is great probability that the grey- 
 houna will seize her; that .a thousand sparrows will 
 
 fly away at the sight of a hawk among them. 
 
 2. That which is most conformable to the constant 
 observations of men, or to experiments frequently re- 
 peated, is most likely to be true ; as, that a winter will 
 not pass away in England without some frost and snow ; 
 that if you deal out great quantities of strong liquor to 
 the mob, there will be many drunk ; that a large assem- 
 bly of men will be of different opinions in any doubt- 
 ful point; that a thief will make his escape out of 
 prison, if the doors of it are unguarded at midnight. 
 
 3. In matters of fact, which are past or present, 
 where neither nature, nor observation, nor custom, 
 gives us any sufficieiit iuformation on either side of the 
 
OF THE MIND, 18T 
 
 -^jucstion, there we may derive a probability from the at- 
 testation of wise and honest men by word or writing, 
 or the concurring witnesses of multitudes who have 
 seen and known what they relate, &c. This testimony 
 in many cases will arise to the degree of moral certain- 
 ty. So we brieve that the plant tea grows in China ; 
 and that the Emperor of the Turks lives at Constanti- 
 nople ; that Julius Cajsar conquered France, and that 
 Jesus our Saviour lived and died in Judea ; that thous- 
 ands were converted to the Christian faith in a century 
 after the death of Christ; and that the books which 
 contain the religion are certain histories and epistles 
 which were written above athousand years ago. There 
 is an infinite variety of such propositions which can 
 admit of no reasonable doubt, though they are not 
 matters which are directly evident to our own senses, 
 or our mere reasoning pow ers. 
 
 XXVIl. When a point hath been well examinedj 
 and our own judgment settled upon just arguments 
 in our manly age, and after a large survey of the merits 
 of the cause, it would be a weakness for us always to 
 continue fluttering in suspense. We ought therefore to 
 stand firm in such well-established principles, and not 
 be tempted to change and alter for the sake of every 
 difficulty, and every occasional objection. We are not 
 to be carried about with every flying doctrine, like 
 children tossed to and fro, and wavering with the wind. 
 It is a good thing to have the heart established with 
 ^race, not with meats, that is, in the great doctrines of 
 the gospel of grace, and in Jesus Christ, who is the 
 same yesteixiay, to-day, and for ever ; but it is not so 
 necessary in the more minute matters of religion, such 
 as meats and drinks, forms and ceremonies, which are 
 of less importance, and for which scripture has not 
 given such express directions. This is the advice of 
 the great Apostle, Eph. iv. 14. Heb. xiii. 8, 9. 
 
 In short, those truths which are the springs of daily 
 practice should be settled as soon as we can with the 
 exercise of our best powers, after the state of manhood ; 
 but those things wherein we may possibly mistake^, 
 should never be so absolutely and finally established 
 and determined, as though we W6re infallible. If 1 he 
 Papists of Great Britain had maintained such a resolute 
 
188 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 establishment and as?urance in the days of King Henry 
 the VIII, or Queen Elizabeth, there never had been a 
 reformation ; nor would any Heathen have been con- 
 verted even under the ministry of St. Paul, if their 
 obstinate settlement in their idolatries had kept their 
 eyes shut against all further light. Yet this should not 
 liinder us from settling our most important principles 
 of faith and practice, where reason shines with its 
 clearest evidence, and the word of God plainly deter- 
 mines truth and duty. 
 
 XXVIII. But let us remember also, that though the 
 gospel be an infallible revelation, we are but fallible in- 
 terpreters, when we determine the sense even of some 
 important propositions written there ; and therefore, 
 though we seem to be established in the belief of any 
 particular sense of scripture, and though there may be^ 
 just calls of Providence to profess and subscribe it, 
 yet there is no need that we should resolve or promise, 
 subscribe or swear, neverto change our mind ; since it 
 is possible, in the nature and course of things, we may 
 meet with such a solid and substantial objection, as may 
 give us quite a different view of things from what we 
 once imagined, and may lay before us sufficient evidence 
 of the contrary. We may happen to find a fairer light 
 cast over the same scriptures, and see reason to alter 
 our sentiments even in some points of moment. Sic 
 stniio, sic sentiam, i. e. So I believe, and so I will be- 
 lieve, is the prison of the soul for life-time, and a bar 
 against all the improvements of the mind. To impose 
 such a profession on other men in matters not absolute- 
 ly necessary, and not absolutely certain, is a criminal 
 usurpation and tyranny over faith and conscience, 
 and none has power to require it but an infallible dic- 
 tator. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Of Inquiring into Causes and Effects. 
 
 oOME effects are found out by their causes^ and 
 some causes by their effects. Let us consider both 
 these. 
 
 1. When we are inquiring into the causes of any 
 particular effect or appearance, either in the world of 
 
OF THE MlNIh 189 
 
 nature, ot iu tlie civil or moral concerns of men, we 
 may follow this method : 
 
 1. Consider what etfects or appearances you have 
 known of :i kindred natare, and what have been the 
 C-Ttain aad real causes of them ; for like effects have 
 generally like causes, especially when they arc found 
 ill the same sort jf suijjects. 
 
 2. Consider what are tho several possible causes 
 which may produce such an effect; and find out by 
 some circumstances how many of those possible cau- 
 ses are excluded in this parlicular case ; thence proceed 
 by degrees to the pronahle causes, till a more close 
 attention and inspection shall exclude some of them 
 also, and lead you gradually to the real aiid certain 
 cause. 
 
 3. Consider Avhat things preceded such and event or 
 appearance, which might have any influence upon it; 
 and though we cannot certainly determine the cause 
 of any thing only from its going before the effect, yet 
 among the many forerunners, we may probably lijjht 
 upon the true cause by further and more particular m- 
 quiry. 
 
 4. Consider whether one cause be sufficient to pro^ 
 duce the effect, or whether it does not require a con- 
 currence of several causes ; and then endeavour as far 
 as possible to adjust the degrees of influence that 
 «ach cause might nave in producing the effect, and the 
 proper agency and influence of each t)f them therein. 
 
 So in natural philosophy, if I would find what are 
 the principles or causes of that sensation which we 
 call heat when I stand near the fire ; here I shall find 
 it is necessary that there be an agenjcy of the particles 
 of fire on my flesh, either immediately by themselves, 
 or at least by the intermediate air ; there must be a par- 
 ticular sort of motion and vellication imprest upon my 
 nei-ves ; there must be a derivation of that motion to 
 the brain ; and there must be ah attention of my soul 
 to this motion ; if either of these are wanting, the sen- 
 sation of heat will riot be produced. 
 
 So in the moral world, if I inquire into the revolu- 
 tion of a state or kingdom, perhaps I find it brought 
 about by the tyranny or folly of a prince, or by the 
 disaffection of his own subjects ; and this disaffection 
 and opposition may arise, either upon the account of 
 
IQO IMPROVEMENT 
 
 impositions in religion, or injuries relating to their civU. 
 rights; or the revolution may be eflected by the inva- 
 sion of a foreign army, or by the opposition of some 
 person at home or abroad, that lays claim to the gov- 
 ernment, Sec. or a hero who would guard the liberties 
 of the people ; or by many of these concurring togeth- 
 er ; then we must adjust the influences of each as 
 ■wisely as we can, and^not ascribe the whole event to one 
 of them alone. 
 
 II. When we are inquiring into the effects of any 
 particular cause or causes, we may follow this meth- 
 od : 
 
 1. Consider diligently the nature of every cause 
 apart, and observe what effect every part, or property 
 of it will tend to produce. 
 
 2. Consider the causes united together in their seve- 
 ral natures, and ways of operation ; inquire how far 
 the powers or properties of one will hinder or promote 
 the effects of tne other, and wisely balance the propor- 
 tions of their influence. 
 
 5. Consider what the subject is, in or upon which 
 the cause is to operate ; for the same cause on differ- 
 ent subjects will oftentimes produce different effects, as 
 the sun which softens wax, will harden clay. 
 
 4. Be frequent and diligent in making all proper 
 experiments, in setting such causes at work whose ef- 
 fects VfU desire to know, and putting together in an 
 orderly manner such things as are most likely to produce 
 some useful effects, according to the best surve}'^ you 
 can take of all the concurring causes and circumstances. 
 
 G. Observe carefully all the events which happen 
 cither by an occasional concurrence of various causes, 
 or by the industrious application of knowing men ; 
 and w hen you see any happy effect certainly produced, 
 and often repeated, treasure it up, together with the 
 known causes of it, amongst your improvements. 
 
 6. Take a just survey of all the circumstances which 
 attend the operation of any cause or causes, whereby 
 any special effect is produced, and find out as far as 
 possible how far any of those cirQumstances had a tea- 
 dency either to obstruct or promote, or change those 
 operations, and consequently how far the effect might 
 be influenced by them. 
 
 In this manner physicians practise and improve theii 
 
OF THE MIND. jgfl 
 
 ^kill. They consider the various known eSTects of partic- 
 ular herbs or dru^s, they meditate what will be the effects 
 of their composition, and whether the virtnes of the 
 t)ne will exalt or diminish the force of the other, or cor- 
 rect any of its innocent qualities. Then they observe 
 the native constitution, and the present temper or cir- 
 cumstances of the patient, and what is likely to be the 
 effect of such a medicine on such a patient. And in all 
 uncommon cases, they make wise and cautious expeH- 
 ments, and nicely observe the effects of particular 
 compound medicines on different constitutions, and in 
 different diseases ; and by these treasures of just obser- 
 vations, they grow up to an honourable degree of skill 
 in the art of healing. 
 
 So the preacher considers the doctrines and reasons, 
 precepts, promises and threatenings of the Word of 
 God, and what are the natural effects of them upon the 
 Juind ; he considers what is the natural tendency ot 
 such a virtue oi* such a vice ; he is well apprized that 
 the representation of some of these things may convince 
 t"he understanding, some may terrify the conscience, 
 some may allure the slothful, and some encourage the 
 desponding mind; he observes the temper of his hccir- 
 ers, or of any particular person that converses with 
 him about things sacred, and he judges what will be 
 the effects of each representation on such persons; he 
 reviews anti recollects what have been the effects of 
 some special parts and methods of his ministry ; and 
 by a careful survey of all these, he attains greater de- 
 grees of skill in his sacred employment. 
 
 JVote. — In all these cases we must distinguish those 
 causes and effects which are naturally and necessarily 
 connected with each other, from those which have only 
 an accidental or contingent connexion. Even in those 
 causes where the efiect is but contingent, we may 
 sometimes arrive at a very high degree of probability ; 
 yet we cannot arrive at such certainty as where the 
 causes operate by an evident and natural necessity, 
 and the effects necessarily follow the operation. 
 _ See more on this subject, Logic, J»art II. Chap. V. - 
 Sect. 7. 
 
19a IMPROVEMENT 
 
 CHAP. XX, 
 
 Of the Sciences J and their Use in particular Pro- 
 fessions, 
 
 1 . 1 HE best way to learn any science, is to begin with 
 a regular system, or a short and plain scheme of that 
 science, well drawn up into a narrow compass, omit- 
 ting the deeper and more abstruse parts of it, and that 
 also under the conduct and instruction of some skilful 
 teacher. S^'stems are necessary to give an eritire and 
 comprehensive view of the several parts of any science, 
 which may have a mutual influence towards the expli- 
 cation or proof of each other ; whereas, if a man deJils 
 always and only in essays and discourses on particular 
 parts of a science, he wMl nevrr obtain a distinct and 
 just idea of the whole, and may perhaps omit some im- 
 portant part of it, after seven years reading of such 
 occasional discourses. 
 
 For this reason, young students should apply them- 
 selves to their systems much more than pamphlets. 
 That man is never so fit to judge of particular subjects 
 relating to any science who has never taken a survey 
 of the whole. 
 
 It is the remark of an ingenious writer, should a bar- 
 barous Indian, who had never seen a palace? or a ship, 
 view their separate and disjointed parts, and observe the 
 pillars, doors, windows, cornices, and turrets of the 
 one, or the prow and stern, the ribs pnd masts, the 
 ropes and shrouds, the sails and tackle of the other, 
 he would be able to form but a ver/ lame and dark 
 idea of either of those excellent ani useful inventions. 
 In like manner, those who contemplate only the frag- 
 ments or pieces broken ott* from any Science, dispersed 
 in short unconnected discourses, and do not discern 
 their relation to each other, and how they may be 
 adapted, and by their union procure the delightful 
 symmetry of a regular^scheme, can never survey an en- 
 tire body of truth, but must always view it as deformed 
 and dismembered ; while their ideas, which must be ev- 
 er indistinct, and often repugnant, will lie in the brain 
 unsorted, and thrown together without order or cohe- 
 rence ; such is the knowledge of those men Who live up- 
 on the scraps tf th^ sciences. 
 
OF THE MINI). 19S 
 
 A youth of genius and lively imagination, of an ac- 
 tive and Ibrvvard spirit, may form Avilhin himself some 
 alluring scenes and pleasing schemes in the beginning 
 of a science, which are utterly inconsistent with some 
 of the necessary and substantial parts of it, which ap- 
 pear in the middle or the end. And if he never 
 read and pass through the whole, he takes up and is 
 satisfied with his own hasty pleasing schemes, and 
 treasures these errors up amongst his solid acquisitions ; 
 whereas his own labour and study farther pursued,, 
 would have shown him hrs early mistakes, and cm-ed 
 him of his self flattering delusions. 
 
 Hence it comes to pass, that we have so many half 
 scholars now a days, and there is so much confusion and 
 inconsistency in the notions and opinions of some 
 persons, because they devote their hours of study en- 
 tirely to short essays and pamphlets, and cast contempt 
 upon the systems, under a pretence of greater polite- 
 ness; whereas the true reason of this contempt of 
 systematical learning, is mere lavsiness and want of 
 jud;;meiit. 
 
 II. After we are grown well acquainted with a short 
 system or con)pendium of a science, which is written 
 in the plainest and most simple manner, it is then 
 proper to read a large regular treatise on that subject, 
 if we design a complete knowledge and cultivation of 
 it; and either while we are reading this larger system^ 
 or after we have done it, then occasional discourses and 
 essays upon the particular subjects and parts of that 
 science, may be read with the gre^atest profit ; for in these 
 essays we may often find very considerable corrections 
 and improvements of what these compends, or even 
 the larger systems may have taught us, mingled with 
 some mistakes. 
 
 And these corrections or improvements should be as 
 remarks adjoined by way of note or commentary in 
 their proper places, and superadded to the regular trea- 
 tise we have read. Then a studious and judicious re- 
 view of the whole will give us a tolerable acquaintance 
 with that science. 
 
 III. It is a great happiness to have such a tutor, or 
 such friends and companions at hand, who are able to 
 inform us what are the best books written on any sci- 
 ence, or any special part of it For want of this advan- 
 Pt 
 
104 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 tage, many h man has wasted his thne rn rnading ovef 
 perhaps some whole volumes, and learnt little more 
 by it than to know that those volumes were not worth 
 his reading. 
 
 , IV. As for the langu-ij^es, they are certainly best 
 learnt in the younger years of life. The memory is 
 then most empty and' unfurnished, and ready to re- 
 ceive new ideas continually. We find the children, in 
 two years time after they are born, learn to speak their 
 native tongue. 
 
 V. The mere abstracted sciences, whitth depend 
 more upon the understanding and judgment, and which 
 deal much in abstracted ideas, should not be imposetl 
 upon children too soon ; such are lop;ic, metaphysics, 
 ethics, politics, or the depths and difficulties of gram- 
 mar and criticism. Yet it must be confessed, fir^it the 
 rudiments of grammar are necessary, or at least very 
 convenient to be known, wheri a youth le^irns a new 
 language ; and some general easy principles and rules 
 of morality and divinity are needful, in order to teach 
 a child his duty to God and man; but to enter far into 
 abstracted reasonings on these subjects is beyond the 
 capacity of children. 
 
 VI. There are several of the sciences that will more 
 agreeably employ our younger years, and the general 
 parts of them may be easily taken in by boys. The 
 first principles and easier practices of arithmetic, geom- 
 etry, plain trigonometry, measuring heights, dej)!]!.^, 
 lengths, distances, fee. the rudiments of geography and 
 astronomy, together with something of mechanics, 
 may he easily conveyed into the minds of acute young 
 persons from nine or ten ynars old and u})w:uds.— ^ 
 These studies may be entertaining and useful to yoiuig 
 ladies as well as to gentlemen, and to all those who ant 
 bred up to the learned professions. The fair sex may 
 intermmgle those with the operations of the needle, 
 and the knowledge of domestic life. Boys may be 
 taught to join them with their rudiments of grammar, 
 and their labour in the languages. And evea those 
 who never learn any languaeje but their mother tongue, 
 may be taught these sciences with lasting benefit in 
 early days. 
 
 That this may be done with ease and advantage, 
 take these three rensons : 
 
OF THE MIND. ia5 
 
 (1.) Because they depend so much upon schemes and 
 numbers, images, lines, and figures, and sensible things, 
 liiat the imagination or fancy will greatly assist the 
 understanding, and render the knowledge of them 
 much more easy. 
 
 (£.) These studies are so pleasant, that they will 
 make the dry labour of learnmg words, phrases, and 
 languages, more tolerable to boys in a Latin school, 
 by this most agreeable mixture. The employment 
 of youth in these studies, will tempt them to neglect 
 many of the foolish plays of childhood, and they will 
 find sweeter entertainment for themselves and their 
 leisure hours, by a cultivation of these pretty pieces 
 of alluring knowledge. 
 
 (3.) The knowledge of these parts" of science are 
 both easy and worthy to be retained in the memory by 
 all children when they come to manly years, for they 
 are useful through all the parts of human life : They 
 tend to enlarge the understanding early, and to give a 
 various acquaintance with useful subjects by times. 
 And surely it is best, as far as possible, to train up chil- 
 dren in the knowledge of tnose things which they 
 should never forget, rather than to let them waste years 
 of life in trifles, or in hard words which are not worth 
 reroembering. 
 
 ' And here hy the way, I cannot but wonder that any 
 author in our age should have attempted to teach any 
 of the exploded physics of Descartes, or the nobler 
 inventions of Sir Isaac Newton in his hypothesis of 
 the heavenly bodies and their motions, in his doctrine 
 of light and colours, and other parts of his physiology, 
 or to instruct children in the knowledge of the theory 
 of the heavens, earth, and planets, without any figures 
 or diagrams. Is it possible to give a boy or a young la- 
 dy the clear, distinct, and proper apprehensions of these 
 things without lines and figures to describe them ? Does 
 not their understanding want the aid of fancy and im^- 
 ^es to convey stronger and juster ideas of them to the 
 inmost soul? Or do they imagine that youth can pene- 
 trate into all these beauties .and artifices of nature, 
 "without those which persons of matui'er age find ne- 
 cessary for that purpose ? I would not willingly name 
 the books, because some of the writers are said to be 
 gentleraen orexcelleHt acquirements. 
 
.106 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 VII. After we have first learnt and gone through any 
 -of those arts or sciences -which are to be explained by 
 diagrams, figures, and schemes, such as geometry, geog- 
 raphy, astronomy optics, mechanics, &:c. we may best 
 preserve them in memory, by having tho^e schemes and 
 figures in large sheets of paper, hanging always before 
 the eye in closets, parlours, halls, chambers, entries, 
 staircases, &lc. Thus the learned images will be per- 
 petually imprest on the brain, and will keep the learn- 
 ing that depends upon them alive and fresh in the mind 
 through the o:rowmg years of life ; the mere diagrams 
 and figures will ever recal to our thoughts those theo- 
 rems, problems, and corollorics which have been de- 
 monstrated by them. 
 
 It is incredible how much geography may be learnt 
 this way by the two terrestrial hemispheres, and by par- 
 ticular maps and charts of the coasts and countries of 
 the earth, happily disposed round about us. Thus we 
 may learn also the constellations, by just projections 
 of the celestial sphera, hung up in the same manner. 
 And I must confess, for the bulk of learners of astrono- 
 my, 1 like that projection of the stars best, which in- 
 cludes in it all the stars in our horizon, and therefore 
 it reaches to the 38^ degrees of southern latitude, 
 though its centre be the north nole. This gives us a 
 better view of the heavenly bodies as they appeaf 
 ever^ night to us ; and it may be made use of with a 
 little instruction, and with ease, to serve for a nocturnal, 
 and show the true hour of the night. 
 
 But reiB^mher, that if there be any colouring upoi> 
 these maps, or projections, it should be laid on so thin 
 as not to obscure or conceal any part of the lines, fig- 
 ures, or letters ; whereas most times they are daubed 
 so thick with gay and glaring colours, and hung up so 
 high above the reach of the eye that should survey and 
 read them, as though their only design were to make a 
 gaudy show upon the wall, and they hung there merrily 
 to cover the naked plaister or wainscot. Those scien- 
 ces which may be drawn out into tables may also be 
 thus hung up and disposed in proper places, such as 
 brief a'nstracts of history, chronclo^, tec. and indeed 
 the schemes of any of the arts or sciences may be ana- 
 Uzed in a sort of skeleton, and represented upon tables, 
 witli various dependencies ana connexions of the?r 
 
OF THE MIND. 1D7 
 
 several parts and subjects that belong to them. Mr° 
 Solomon Lowe has happily thrown the gjrammar of 
 several languages into such tables ; and a frequent re- 
 view of these abstracts and epitomes would tend much 
 to imprint them on the brain, when they have been 
 once well learned ; this would keep those learned tra- 
 ces always open, and assist the weakness of a labouring 
 nieraory. In this manner may a scheme of the scrip- 
 ture history be drawn out, and perpetuate those ideas 
 in the mind with which our daily reading furnishes us. 
 VIIL Every man who pretends to the character of 
 a scholar should attain some general and superficial 
 idea of most or allthe sciences; fbrthereisa certaincon- 
 nexion amongthe various parts of human knowledge, s& 
 that some notions borrowed from any one science may 
 assist our acquaintance with any other, either by way of 
 explication, illustration, or proof, though there are 
 some sciences conjoined by a much nearer affinity than 
 ethers. 
 
 IX. Let those parts of every science be chiefly studi- 
 ed at first, and reviewed afterwards, which have a 
 more direct tendency to assist our proper profession, as 
 men, or our general profession as Christians, always 
 observing what we ourselves have found most necessa- 
 ry and useful to us in the course of our lives. Age and 
 experience will ttach us to judge which of the 
 sciences, and which parts of them have been of great- 
 est use, and are most valuable : but in younger years 
 of life we are not sufficient judges of this matter^ 
 and therefore should seek advice from others who are 
 elder. 
 
 X. There are three learned professions among us, 
 viz. divinity, law, and medicine. Though every man 
 ■who pretends to be a scholar or a gentJeman, should so 
 far acquaint himself with a superficial scheme of all 
 the sciences, as not to stand amazed like a mere stran- 
 ger at the mention of the common subjects that belong 
 to them ; yet there is no necessity for every man of 
 learning to enter into their difficulties and deep recess- 
 es, nor to climb the heights to which some others have 
 an-iA-^ed. The knowledge of them in a proper measure 
 may be happily useful to every profession^ not only be- 
 cause all arts and sciences have a sort of communion 
 
 R 2 
 
198 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 and connexion with each other, but it is an angelic 
 pleasure to grow in knowledge, it is a matter of honour 
 and esteem, and renders a man more agreeable and 
 acceptable in ever} comJ>anJ^ 
 
 But let us survey several of them more particularly, 
 ■u'ith regard to the learned professions ; and first of the 
 mathematics. 
 
 XL Though I have so often commended mathe- 
 matical studies, and particularly the speculations of 
 arithmetic and geometry as a means to tix a wavering 
 mind, to beget an habit of attention, and to improve 
 the faculty of reason ; yet 1 would by no means be 
 understood to recommend to all a pursuit of these 
 sciences to those extensive lengths to which the mod- 
 erns have advanced them. This is neither necessary 
 nor proper for any students, but those few who shall 
 make these studies their chief profession and business 
 of life, or those gentlemen whose capacities and turn 
 of mind are suited to these studies, and have all manner 
 of advantage to improve in them. 
 
 The general principles of arithmetic, algebra, geom- 
 etry, and trigonometry, of geography, of modern as- 
 tronomy, mechanics, statics, and optics, have their 
 valuable and excellent uses, not only for the exercise 
 and improvement of the faculties of the mind, but the 
 subjects themselves are very well worth our knowledge 
 in a moderate degree, and are often made of admirable 
 service in human life. So much of these subjects as 
 Dr. Wells has given us in his three volumes, entitled, 
 " The Yoiing Gentleman^s Mathematics " is richly suffi- 
 cient for the greatest part of scholars or gent'enien ; 
 though perhaps there may be some single treatises, at 
 least on some of these suhjects, which may be better 
 written and more useful to be i)erused, than those of 
 that learned author. 
 
 But a penetration into the abstruse difficulties and 
 depths of modern algebra and fluxions, the various 
 methods of quadratures, the mensuration of all manner 
 of curves, and their mutual transformation, and twenty 
 other things tliat some modern mathematicians deal in^ 
 are not worth the labour of those w ho design either of 
 the three learned professions, divinity, law, or physic, 
 ;i< the buisness of life. This is the sentence of n con- 
 
OF THE MIND. 199 
 
 siderable man, viz. Dr. George Cheyne, who was a very 
 good proficient and writer on these subjects : Heaffirms, 
 that they are but barren and airy studies for a man 
 entirely to live upon, and that for a man to indulge and 
 riot in these exquisitely bewitching contemplations, is 
 only proper for public professors, or for gentlemen of 
 estates, who have a strong propensity this Way^ and 
 a genius fit to cultivate them. ; 
 
 But, says he, to own a great but grievous truth, tnx>ugli 
 they may quicken and sharpen the invention, strengthen 
 and extend the imagination, improve and refine the 
 reasoning faculties, and are of use both in the necessary 
 and the luxurious refinement of the mechanical arts ; 
 yet, having no tendency to rectify the will, to sweeten 
 the temper, or mend the heart, they often leave a 
 stiffness, a positiveness and sufficiency on weak minds, 
 which is much more pernicious to society, and to the 
 interests of the great end of our being, than all their 
 advantages can recompense. He adds further, con- 
 cerning the launching into the depth of these studies, 
 that they are apt to beget a secret and refined pride, 
 and over weening and over bearing vanity, the most 
 opposite teiTi{>er to the true spirit of the gospel. This 
 tempts them to presume on a kind of omniscience in 
 respect to their fellow creatures, who have not risen to 
 their elevation ; nor are they fit to be trusted in the 
 hands of any but those who have acquired a humble 
 heart, a lowly spirit, and a sob^r and teachable temper. 
 See Dr. Cheyne's preface to his Essay on Health and 
 Long Life. 
 
 Xn. Some of the practical parts of geometry, 
 astronomy, dialling, optics, statics, mechanics, &;c. may 
 be agreeable entertainments and amusements to stu- 
 dents in every profession, at leisure hours, if they enjoy 
 such circumstances of life as to furnish them with cori- 
 veniencies for this sort of improvement ; but let them 
 take great care lest they entrench upon more necessary 
 employments, and so fall under the charge and censure 
 of wasted time. 
 
 Yet I cannot help making this observation, that where 
 students, or indeed any young gentlemen, have in their 
 early years made themselves masters of a variety of 
 elegant problems in the mathematical circle of know- 
 ledge, and gained the most easy, neat, and entertaining: 
 
SOO IMPROVEMENT 
 
 experiments in natural philosophy, with some short and 
 agreeable speculations or practices in any other of the 
 art3 and sciences, they have hereby laid a foundation for 
 the esteem and love of mankind among those with 
 whom they converse, in higher or lower ranks of life ; 
 they have been often guarded by this means from the 
 temptation of indolent pleasures, and hiive secured both 
 their own hours and the hours of their companions from 
 running to waste in sauntering and trifles, and from a 
 Ihcusand impertinences in silly dialogues. Gaming 
 and drinking, and many criminal and foolish scenes of 
 talk and action, have been prevented by these innocent, 
 and improving elegancies of kno'vledge. 
 
 XIII. History is a necessary study in the supreme 
 place for gentlemen who deal in politics. The govern- 
 ment of nations, and distressful and desolating events 
 which have in all ages attended the mistakes of politi- 
 cians, should be ever present on their minds, to warn 
 them to avoid the like conduct. Geography and chro- 
 nology, which precisely inform us of the place and time 
 where such transactions or events happened, are the 
 f^yes of history, and of absolute necessity in some mea- 
 sure to attend it. 
 
 But history, so far as relates to the aflfairs of the 
 Bible, is as necessary to divines as to gentlemen of any 
 profession. It helps us to reconcile mnny difficulties in 
 e^cripture, and demonstrates a divine Providence. Dr, 
 Prideaux's connexion of the Old and New Testament is 
 an excellent treatise of this kind. 
 
 XIV. Among the smaller histories, biography or the 
 memoirs of the lives of great and good men, has a high 
 rank in my esteem, as worthy of the perusal of every 
 person who devotes himself to the study of divinity. 
 Therein we frequently find our holy religion reduced to 
 practice, and many parts of Christianity shining with a 
 transcendent and exemplary light. We learn there 
 how deeply sensible great and good men have been of 
 the ruins of human nature, by the first apostacy from 
 God, and how they have toiled and laboured, and turned 
 themselves on all sides, to seek a recovery, in vain, till 
 they have found the gospel of Christ an all sufficient 
 relief. We are there furnished with effectual and un- 
 answerable evidences that the religion of Jesus, with all 
 its selfdenials, virtues and devotions, is a very practica- 
 
OF THE MIND. eol 
 
 hie ih'in^i since it has been carried to such a degree of 
 honour by some wise and holy men. We have been 
 there assured, that the pleasures and satisfactions of the 
 Christian life, in its present practice and future hopes, 
 are not the mere raptures of fancy and enthusiasm, 
 when some of the strictest professors of reason have 
 added the sanction of tneir testimoiiy. 
 
 In short, the lives or memoirs of persons of piety, well 
 "written, have been of infinite and unspeakable advantage 
 to the disciples and professors of Christianity, and have 
 given us admirable instances and rules how to resist 
 -every temptation of a soothinj;; or frowning Avorld, 
 how to practise important and difficult duties, how to 
 loveGod above all, and to love our neighbour as ourselves, 
 to live by the faith of the Son of God, and to die in the 
 same -faith, in sure and certain hope of a resurrection to 
 eternal life. 
 
 XV. Remember that logic and ontology or meta- 
 physics are necessary sciences, though they have been 
 greatly abused by scholastic waiters, who have pro- 
 fessed to teach them in former ages. Not only all stu- 
 -dents, whether they design the profession of theology, 
 law or physic, but all gentlemen should at least acquire 
 a superficial knowledge of them. The introduction of 
 so many subtleties, nice distinctions, and insignificant 
 terms, without clear ideas, has brought a great part of 
 the logic and metaphysics of the schools into just con- 
 tempt. Their logic has appeared the mere art of 
 wrangling, and their metaphysics the skill of splitting 
 an hair, of distinguishing without a difference, and of 
 putting long hard names upon common things, and 
 sometimes upon a confused jumble of things, which 
 have no clear ideas belonging to them. 
 
 It is certain that an unknown heap of trifles and im- 
 pertinencles have been intermingled with those useful 
 parts of learning, upon which account many persons 
 in this polite age, have made it a part of their breeding v 
 to throvv a jest upon them ; and to rally them well has 
 been esteemed a more valuable talent than to under- 
 stand them. 
 
 But this is running into wide extremes ; nor ought 
 these parts of science to be abandoned by the wise, be- 
 cause some writers of former ages have played the fool 
 with them. True logic teaches us to use our reason 
 
£02 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 well, and brings a light into the understanding ; true 
 metaphysies, or ontology, casts a light upon all the 
 objects of thought and meditation, by ranging every be- 
 ing, with all the absolute and relative pei-fections and 
 properties, modes, and attendants of it, m proper ranks 
 or classes, and thereby it discovers the various relations^ 
 of things to each other, and what are their general or 
 special differences from each other, wherein a great 
 part of human knowledge consists. And by this means 
 It greately conduces to instruct us in method, or the 
 disposition of every thing into its proper rank or class 
 of beings, attributes, or actions. 
 
 XV4. If I were to say any thing of natural philoso- 
 phy, I would venture to lay down my sentiments thus : 
 1 think it must needs be very useful to a divine to 
 understand something of natural science. The mere 
 natural history of birds, beasts, and fishes, of insects, 
 trees, and plants, as well as of meteors, such as clouds, 
 thunders, lightnings, snow, hail, frost, &tc. in all their 
 common or uncommon appearances, may be of con- 
 siderable use to one who studies divinity, to give him 
 a wider and more delightful view of the works of God, 
 and to furnish him with lively and happy images and 
 iwetaphors drawn from the large volume of nature, to 
 display and represent the things of God and religion, 
 in the most beautiful and affecting colours. 
 
 And if the mere history of these things be useful for 
 this purpose, surely it will be of further advantage to 
 be led into the reasons, causes, and effects of these 
 natural objects and appearances, and to know the es- 
 tciblished laws of nature, matter and motion, whereby 
 the great God carries on his extensive works of provi- 
 dence from the creation to this day. 
 
 J confess the old Aristotelean scheme of this science 
 will teach us but very little that is worth knowing, about 
 these matters ; but the late writers, who have explain- 
 ed nature and its operations in a more sensible and 
 geometrical manner, are well worth the moderate stu- 
 dy of -a divine ; especially those who havp folloAved the 
 principles of that wonder of our age and nation, Sir Isaac 
 Newton. There is much pleasure and entertainment, as 
 well as real profit, to be derived from those admirable 
 improvements which have been advanced in natural phi- 
 losophy in late years, by the assistance of mathematical 
 
OF THE MIND. 203 
 
 learnin'g, as well as from the multitude of experiments 
 which have been made, and are still making in natural 
 subjects. 
 
 XVII. This is a science which indeed eminently be- 
 longs to the physician ; he ought to know all the parts 
 of human nature, what are the sound and healthy func- 
 tions of an animal body, and what are the distempers 
 and dangers which attend it ; he should also be furnish- 
 ed witii a large knowledge of plants and minerals, and 
 every thing which makes up the materia medica, or the 
 ingredients of which medicines are made ; and many 
 other things in natural philosophy, are subservient to 
 his profession, as \tell as the kindred art of surgery. 
 
 XVIII. Questions about the powers and operations 
 of nature may also sometimes come into the lawyers 
 cognizance, especially such as relate to assaults, wounds, 
 murders, &.c. I reinember I have read the trial of a 
 man for murder by ijrowning, wherein the judge on the 
 bench heard several arguments concerning the lungs 
 being filled or not filled with water, by inspiration or 
 expiration, fee. to a\! which he professed himself so 
 much a stranger, as did not do him any^great honour in 
 public. i 
 
 XIX. But I think no divine, who can obtain it, should 
 be utterly destitute of this knowledge. By the assis- 
 tance of this study, he will be better able to survey the 
 various monuments of creating wisdom in the heavens, 
 the earth, and the seas, vrith wonder and worship ; and by 
 the use of a moderate skill in this science, he may com- 
 municate so much of the astonishing works of God, in 
 the formation and government of this visible world, and 
 so far instruct many of his hearers, as may assist the 
 transfusion of the same idpas into their minds, and raise 
 them to the same delightful exercises of devotion. 
 
 O Lord, how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom hast 
 thou made them all ! They are sought out by all that 
 have pleasure in them. 
 
 Besides, it is worthy of the notice of every student in 
 theology, that he ought to have some acquaintance with 
 the principles of nature, that he may judge a little how 
 far they will go ; so that he may not be' imposed upon to 
 take every strange appearance in nature for a miracle, 
 that he may reason tne clearer upon this subject, that 
 he may better confirm the miracles of Moses and of 
 
204 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 Christ, nor yield up his faith to any pretences of prorfi* 
 gy and wonder, which are either the occasional and un- 
 common operations of the elements, or the crafty 
 sleights of men well skilled in philosophy and mechani- 
 cal operations to delude the simple. 
 
 XX. The knowledge also of animal nature, arid of 
 the rational soul of man, and the mutual influence of 
 these two ingredients of our comjiosilion upon each 
 other, is worthy the study of a diviio. It is of great 
 importance to persons of this character and office, to 
 juQge how far the animal powers have influence upon 
 such and sucli particular appearances and practices of 
 mankind ; how far the .-mpetites or passions of human 
 nature are owing to the flesh and blood, or to tiie mind ; 
 how far they may he moderated, and how far they ought 
 to be subdued ; and what are the ha]"piest methods of ob- 
 taining these ends. By this science jIso we may be better 
 informed how far these passions oi appetites are lawful, 
 and how far they are criminal, by considering how far 
 they are subiec*ted to the pow<irof the will, and how 
 far they may be changed, and corrected by our watch- 
 fulness, care anil diligence. 
 
 It comes also very properly under the cognizance of 
 this profession, to be able in somf measure to deternline 
 questions which may arise relatirg to real inspiration, or 
 prophesy, to wild enthusiasm, to fits of a convulsive kind, 
 to melancholy or phrenay, &tc. and what directions are 
 proper to be given concerning any appearances of this 
 nature. 
 
 XXI. Next to the Icnowletlgc of natural things, and ac- 
 quaintance with the human nature and constitution, 
 which is made u}> of soul and body, I think natural reli- 
 gion properly takes its place. This consists of these 
 two parts, viz. (l.) The speculative or contemplative, 
 which is the knowledge of (jod in his various perfections, 
 and in his relations to his rational creatures, so far as they 
 may be known by the light of nature, which heretofore 
 usipd to be called the second part of metaphysics. It in- 
 cludes also (2.| That which is practical or active, Avhich 
 is the knowleage of the several duties which arise from 
 our relation to Godj^and our relation to our fellow crea- 
 tures, and the proper conduct and government of our- 
 selves ; this has been used to be called ethics, or moral 
 
 'he knowledge of these things is proper for 
 
OF THE MIND. 205 
 
 all men of learning ; not only because it teaches them 
 to obtain just views of the several parts of revealed 
 religion and of Christianity, which are built upon them, 
 but l>ccause every branch of natural religion and of 
 moral duty is contained, and necessarily implied, in all 
 the revealed religions that ever God prescribed to the 
 world. We may well suspect that religion does not 
 come from God, which renounces any part or natural 
 duty. 
 
 Whether mankind live under the dispensation of the 
 patriarchs, or of Moses, or the prophets, or of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, still we are bound to know the one 
 true God, and to practise all that adoration and 
 reverence, all that love to him, that faith in his perfec- 
 tions, with that obedience and submission to his will, 
 which natural religion requires. We are still bound 
 to exercise that justice, truth and goodness towards 
 our neighbours, that restraint and moderation of out 
 own ^appetites and passions, and that regular behav- 
 iour towards ourselves and all our fellow creatures 
 around us, which moral philosophy teaches. There is 
 no sort of revealed religion that will dispense with these 
 natural obligations ; and a happy acquaintance with the 
 several appetites, inclinations, and passions of human 
 nature, and the best methods to rule and restrain, to 
 direct and govern them, are our constant business, and 
 ought to be our everlaating study. 
 
 Yet 1 would lay down this caution, viz. That since 
 students are instructed in the knowledge of the true 
 God in their lectures on Christianity, and since among 
 the Christian duties they are also taught all the moral 
 dictates of the light of nature, or a complete scheme of 
 ethics, there is no absolute necessity of learning these 
 two parts of natural religion, as distinct sciences, sepa- 
 rate and by themselves ; but still it is of great impor- 
 tance for a tutor, while he is reading to his pupils these 
 parts of the_ Christian religion, to give tnem notice 
 now far the light of nature or mere reason will instruct 
 us in these doctrines and duties, and how far we are 
 obliged to divine revelation and scripture, for clearing 
 up and establishing the firm foundations of the one, 
 for affording us superior motives and powers to prac- 
 tise the other, for raising them to more exalted degrees, 
 and building so glorious a superstructure upon them. 
 S 
 
206 IMPROVEMEIST 
 
 XXIII. The study of natural religion, viz. The 
 knowledge of God and the rules of virtue and piety as 
 far as they are discovered by the light of nature, is 
 needful indeed, to prove the truth of divine revelation 
 or scripture in the most effectual manner ; but after the 
 divine authority of scripture is established, that will 
 be a very sufficient spring from whence the bulk of 
 mankind may derive their knowledge of divinity, or 
 the Christian religion, in order to their own present 
 faith and practice, and their future and eternal happi- 
 ness. In this sense theology is a science necessary for 
 every one that hopes for the favour of God, and the 
 felicity of another world : and it is of infinitely more 
 importance than any of the arts and sciences which 
 belong to the learned professions here on earth. 
 
 XXIV. Perhaps it will be thought necessary I should 
 say something concerning the study of the civil law, or 
 the law of nature and nations. 
 
 If we should speak with great justness and propriety, 
 the civil law signifies the peculiar law of each state,, 
 country, or city ; but what we now a days usually 
 mean by the civil law, is a body of laws composed out 
 of the best of the Roman and Grecian laws, and which 
 was in the main received and observed through all the 
 Roman dominions for above twelve hundred years. 
 
 The Romans took the first grounds of this law from 
 what they call the twelve tables, Avhich were the abridg- 
 ments of the laws of Solon at Athens, and of the other 
 cities in Greece famous for knowledge and wisdom ; 
 to which they added their own ancient customs of the 
 city of Rome, and the laws which were made there. 
 These written laws were subject to various interpre- 
 tatifl-ns, whence controversies daily arising, they w^ere 
 determined by the judgment of the learned ; and these 
 determinations were what they first called Jus Civile. — 
 All this by degrees grew to a vast number of volumes ; 
 and therefore the Emperor Justinian commanded his 
 chancellor Tribonian to reduce them to a perfect 
 body, and this is called the body of the civil law. 
 
 XXV. But that which is of most importance for all 
 learned men to be acquainted with is the law of nature, 
 or the knowledge of right and wrong among mankind, 
 whether it be transacted between single persons or 
 communities, sa far as common reason and the light 
 
OF THE MIND. ^7 
 
 of nature dictate and direct. — This is what PulFendorfF 
 calls the hiw of nature and nations, as will appear if 
 you consult Sect. 3. Chap. III. of that most valuable 
 folio he has written on the subject ; which is well 
 worthy the study of every man of learning, particular- 
 ly lawyers and divines, together with other treatises 
 on the same theme. 
 
 If any question proposed relates to right, and proper- 
 ty, and justice between man and man, in any polite and 
 civilized country, though it must be adjudged chic^fly 
 according to the particular statutes and laws of that 
 country, yet the knowledge gf the law of nature will 
 ver)'^ considerably assist the lawyer and the civil judge 
 in the detetrmi nation thereof. And this knovvieilge 
 will be of great use to divines, not only in deciding of 
 cases of conscience among men, and answering any 
 difficult inquiries which may be proposed to them on 
 this subject, but it will greatly assist them also in their 
 studies relating to the law of God, and the performance 
 or violation thereof, the nature of duty and sin, rewards 
 and punishments. 
 
 XXVI. 1 have spoken something of the languages 
 before, but let me here resume the subject, and put in 
 a few thoughts about those studies which are wont to 
 be called philological ; such as history, languages, 
 grammar, rhetoric, poesy, and criticism. 
 
 An acquaintance with some of the learned languages 
 at least, is necessary for all the three learned professions. 
 
 XXVTI. The lawyers, who have the least nee^d of 
 foreign tongues, ought to undejstand Latin. During; 
 many ages past, very important matters in the law 
 were always vvriMen and managed in that language by 
 the lawyers, as prescriptions in medicine by the phy- 
 sicians, and citations of the scriptures in divinity were 
 always made in Latin by the divines. Prayers also 
 were ordained to be said publicly and privately in the 
 Roman tongue ; pater nosters and ave marias were 
 half the devotion of those ages. These cruel imposi- 
 tions upon the people would not suffer them to read in 
 their own mother tongue what was done, either to or 
 for their own souls, their bodies, or their estates. I am 
 ready to suspect this was all owing to the craft and 
 policy of tlie priesthood and church of Rome, which 
 ^n :leavoured to aggrandize theiDseives, and exalt theip 
 
208 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 own profession into a sovereign tyranny, and to make 
 mere slaves of the laity among mankind, by keeping 
 them in utter ignorance, darkness, and dependence. 
 And they were willing to compound the matter with 
 the physicians and the lawyers, and allow them a 
 small share in this tyranny over the po-iulace, to main- 
 tain their own supreme dominion over all. 
 
 But we thank God the woi-ld is growing something 
 wiser ; and of late years the British Parliament has 
 ]>een pleased to give relief from that bondage in mat- 
 ters relating to tlie law also, as in the age of the Refor- 
 mation we were delivered from saying our prayers in 
 J.atin, from being bound to read the word of God in a 
 tongue unknown to the people, and from living in ever- 
 lasting subjection to the clergy in matters of this life, 
 and the life to come. 
 
 But to return : There ure still so many forms of pro- 
 ceedings in judicature- and things called by Latin names 
 in the professions of the l^w, and so many barbarous 
 words with Latin terminations, that it is necessary 
 lawyers should understand this language. Some ac- 
 <juamtance also with the old French tongue is needful 
 ior the same persons and profession, since the tenures of 
 Lyttleton, which are a sort of Bible to the gentlemen 
 ot the long robe, were written in that language ; and 
 this tongue has been interwoven in some forms of the 
 English law, from the days of William the conqueror, 
 who came from Normandy to France. 
 
 XXVIII. Physicians should be skilled in the Greek 
 as well as ihe Latin, because their great master Hippo- 
 crates wrote in that tongue, and his writings arestiil of 
 p:ood value and use. A multitude of the names, both of 
 the parts of the body, of diseases, and of medicines, 
 are derived from the Greek language ; and there an-. 
 many excellent books of physic, both in the theoretical 
 and practical parts of it, which are delivered to the 
 world in the Roman tongue ; and of which that pro- 
 fession should not be ignorant. 
 
 XXIX. Such as intend the study of theology should 
 be \vell acquainted also with the Latin, because it has 
 been- for many hundred years the language of the 
 schools of learning ; their disputations are generally 
 limited to that language, and many and excellent books 
 of divinity must be entirely concealed from the slu* 
 
OF THE IVflND. S09 
 
 dents, unless they are acquainted with the Latin au- 
 thors. 
 
 But those that design the sacred profession of theo- 
 logy, should make it their labour of chief importance 
 to be very conversant with their Bibles, both in the Old 
 and New Testament ; and this requires some knowl- 
 edge of those original languages, Greek and Hebrew, 
 in which the scriptures were written. All that will pur- 
 sue these studies with honour, should be able to read 
 the Old Testament tolerably in the Hebrew tongue; 
 at least they should be so far acquainted with it, as to 
 find out the sense of a text by the help of a dictionary. 
 But scarce any man should be thought worthy the name 
 of a solid divine, or a skilful teacher of the gospel, in 
 these days of light and liberty, unless he has pretty 
 good knowledge of the .Greek, since all the important 
 points of the Christian religion are derived from the 
 New Testament, which was first Writtea in that lan- 
 guage. 
 
 XXX. As for the Syrinc and Arabic tongues, if one 
 divine in thirty, or in three hundred, travel far into 
 these regions, it is enough. A few learned men skilled 
 in these languages will make sufficient remarks upon 
 them for the service of the whole Christian world ; 
 which remarks may sometimes happen to be of use to 
 those divines who are unacquainted with them, in 
 reading the Bible. But the advantage of these tongues 
 is not of so great importance as it has been too often 
 represented. My reader will agree with me, when he 
 considers that the chief uses of them are these : 
 
 The Arabic is a language which has some kindred 
 and affinity to the Hebrew, and perhaps we may now 
 and then guess at the sense of some uncommon and 
 doubtful Hebrew word, which is found but once or 
 twice in the Bible, by its supposed affinity to the Arabic ; 
 but whatsoever conjectures may be made by some 
 kindred of a Hebrew word to an Arabic root, yet there 
 is no certainty to be gathered from it ; for even words 
 of the same language, which are undoubtedly derived 
 from the same theme or primitive, will give us but 
 very doubtful and sorry information concerning the 
 true sense of kindred words which spring from the 
 same theme. 
 
 S 3 
 
210 IMPROVEMEJNT 
 
 Let me give a plain instance or two of this uncertain' 
 t>': The word strages signifies slaughter; stratum is 
 Latin for a bed ; stramen is straw ; and slra^ulum is a 
 quilt or coverlet : They are all drawn and derived from 
 sternoy which signifies to throw down, to kill, or to 
 spread abroad. Let the critics tell me what certain 
 serue they could put upon either of these four words 
 by their mere cognation with each other, or their deri- 
 vation from one common verb. Again, who could tell 
 me the certain meaning and precise idea of the word 
 honest in English, and assure me that it signifies a man 
 of integrity, justice and jjrobity, though it be evidently 
 derived fron) honesius in Latin ? Whereas honestus 
 hath a very difl'erent idea, and signifies a man of some 
 figure in the world, or a man of honour. Let any man 
 judge then how little service toward explaining the He- 
 brew tongue can be furnished from all the language of 
 Arabia. Surely a great part of the iBng learned fatigues 
 and tiresome travels of men through this country, is 
 almost vain and useless to make the Hebrew Bible 
 better understood. 
 
 As for the Syriac language, it is granted there may 
 be some small advantiige drawn from the knowledge 
 of it, because there is a very ancient translation of the 
 New Testament in that tongue ; and perhaps this may 
 sometimes give a proper and apposite meannigto a diffi- 
 cult and doubtful text, and a fair hint for recovering the 
 true meaning of the scripture from the perverse glosses 
 of other writers. But there are several commentators 
 and lexicographers who have been acquainted with the 
 Syriac lani^uage, and have ^iven us the chief of these 
 hints in their writings on scripture. 
 
 And after all, since none of these assistances caa 
 yield us a sufficient proof of a true interpretation, and 
 give us the certain sense of a text, who would be per- 
 suaded to waste any great number of his better^ hours 
 in such dry studies, and in labours of so little profit ? 
 
 XXXI. The Chaldean language indeed is much 
 nearer to the Hebrew, and it is proper for a divine to 
 have some acquaintance with it, because there arc 
 several verses or chapters of Ezra and Daniel which 
 are written in that language ; and the old^ Jewish tar- 
 
 §ums or commentaries, which are written in the Chal- 
 ean tongue, may sometimes happen to cast a little 
 light upon a doubtful scripture of the QW Testament. 
 
OF THE MIND, Ml 
 
 But it roust be still owned, that the knowledge of 
 these «!astern tongues does not deserve to be magnified 
 to such a degree as sonie of the proficients in them hava 
 indulged ; uherein they have carried matters beyond 
 all reason and justice, since scarce any of the most 
 important subjects of the gospel of Christ, and the 
 way of salvation, can gain any advantage from them. 
 
 XXXII. The art of grammar comes now to be men- 
 tioned. It is a distinct thing from the mere knowledge 
 of the languages ; for all mankind are taught from their 
 infancy^ to speak their mother tongue, by a natural 
 imitation of their mothers and nurses, and those who are 
 round about them, without any knowledge of the art 
 of grammar, and the various observations and rules that 
 relate to it. Grammar indeed is nothing else but rules and 
 observations drawn from the common speech of man- 
 kind in their several languages ; and it teaches us to speak 
 and pronounce, to spell and write with propriety and 
 exactness, according to th^ custom of those in every 
 nation, who are or were supposed to speak and write 
 their own languages best : Now it is a shame for a man 
 to pretend to science and study in any of the three learn- 
 ed professions, who is not in some measure acquainted 
 witn the propriety of those languages with which h© 
 ought to be conversant in his daily studies, and more 
 especially in such as he may sometimes be called upoa 
 to write as well as read. 
 
 XXXIII. Next to grammar we proceed to consider 
 rhetoric. 
 
 Wow rhetoric in general is the art of persuading^ 
 which may be distisguished into these three parts, viz. (l .) 
 Conveying the sense of the speaker to the understands 
 ing of the hearers in the clearest and most intelligible 
 manner by the plainest expressions ; and the most lively 
 and striking representations of it, so that the mind may- 
 be thoroughly convinced of the thing proposed. (2.) 
 Persuading the will efiectually to choose or refuse the 
 thing suggested and represented. (S.) Raising the pas*- 
 sions in the most vivid and forcible manner, so as to 
 set all the soul and every power of nature at work, to 
 pursue or avoid the thing in debate. 
 
 To attain this end, there is not only a great deal of 
 art necessary in the represeRtation ef matters to th^ 
 
S12 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 auditory, but also in the disposition or method of intro- 
 diicinj; these particular representations, together Avith 
 the reasons which might convince, and the various 
 methods which might persuade and prevail upon the 
 hearers. There are certain seasons wherein a violent 
 torrent of oration, in a disguised and conct-aU d method, 
 may be niore etiectual than all the nice forms of logic 
 and reasoning. The figures of interrogation and ex- 
 clamation have sometimes a large place and happy 
 effect ivt this sort of discourse, and no figure of speech 
 should be wanting here, where the speaker has art 
 enough happily to introduce it. 
 
 There are many remarks and rules laid down by the 
 teachers of this art, to improve a young genius into 
 those glorious talents whereby Tuliy and Demosthenes 
 acquired that amazing influence and success in th«?ir 
 own age and nition, and that immortal fame through 
 all nations and ages. And it is with great advantage 
 these rules may be perused and learned. But a happy 
 genius, a lively imagination, and warm passions, togeth- 
 er with a due degree of knowledge and skill in the sub- 
 jects to be debated, and a perpetual perusal of the wri- 
 tings of the best orators, and hearing the best speakers, 
 will do more to make an orator than all the rules of art in 
 the world, without these natural talents, and this careful 
 imitation of the most approved and happiest orators. 
 
 XXXIV. JNow you will presently suppose that plead- 
 ers at the bar have great need of this art of rhetoric; 
 but it has been a just doubt, whether pleading in our 
 British courts of justice, before a skilful judge, should 
 admit of any other aid from rhetoric than tnat which 
 teaches to open a cause clearly, and spread it in the 
 most perspicuous, complete, and impartial manner be- 
 fore tne eyes of him that judges ; for impartial justice 
 being the thing which is sought, there should be no 
 artifices used, no eloquence or powers of language em- 
 ployed to persuade the will, or work upon the passions, 
 lest the decisive sentence of the judge should be biassed 
 or warped into injustice. For this reason, Mr. Locke 
 would banish all pleaders in the law for fees out of 
 liis government of Carolina, in his posthumous works, 
 though perhaps that great man might possibly be too 
 severe in so universal a censure of the profession. 
 
 XXXV. But the case is very different with regard to 
 
01*' TIIE MIND. &l^ 
 
 divines ; the eloquence of the pulf)it, beyond all contro- 
 versy, has a much larger extent. 
 
 Their business is not to plead a caiise of right and 
 wrong before a wise and skilful judge, but to address 
 all the ranks of mankind, the high and low, the wise 
 and unwise, the sober and the vicious, and persuade 
 them all to pursue and persevere in virtue with regard 
 to themselves, in justice and goodness with regard to 
 their neighbours, and piety tdvvards God. These are 
 aftairs of everlasting importance, and most of the per- 
 sons to whom, these addresses are made, are not wise 
 and skilful judges, but are influenced and drawn strong- 
 ly to the contrary side by their own sinful appetites and 
 passions, and bribed or biassed by the corrupt customs 
 of the world. 
 
 There is therefore a necessfty not only of a clear 
 and faithful representation of things to men, in order 
 to convince their reason and judgment, but of all the 
 skill and force of persuasion addressed to the will and 
 the passions. So Tully addressed the whole senate of 
 Rome, and Demosthenes the Athenian people, among 
 whom were capacities and inclinations of infinite 
 variety ; and therefore they made use of all the light- 
 ning and thunder, all the entreaties and terrors, all the 
 soothing elegancies and the flowery beauties of lan- 
 guage which their art could furnish them with. Divines 
 in the pulpit have much the same sort of hearers, and 
 therefore they should imitate those ancient examples. 
 The understanding indeed ought to be first convinced 
 by the plainest and strongest force of reasoning ; but 
 when this is done, all the powerful motives should be 
 used, which have anyjirst influence upon human nature, 
 all the springs of passion should be touched, to awaken 
 the stupid^ and the thoughtless into consideration, to 
 penetrate and melt the hardest heart, to persuade 
 the unwilling, to excite the lazy, to reclaim the obstinate, 
 and reform the vicious part of mankind, as well as to 
 encourage those who are humble and pious, and to 
 support their practice and their hope. The tribes of 
 men are sunk into so fatal a degeneracy and dreadful 
 distance from God, and from all tnat is holy and happy, 
 that. hI! the eloquence which a preacher is master of, 
 should be employed in order to recover the world 
 from its shameful ruin and wretchedness by the gospel 
 
214 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 of our blessed Saviour, and restore it to virtue and' 
 piety, to God and happiness, by the divitje powef 
 of tliis gospei. O may such glorious masttnts of sa- 
 cred oratory never be wanting in the pui])its of Chris- 
 tendom ! 
 
 XXXVI. Sliall I noAv speak something of my senti- 
 ments concerning poesy ? 
 
 As for books of poesy, whether in the learned or in 
 the modern languages, they are of great use to be read 
 at hours of leisure, by all persons that make any pre- 
 tence to good education or learning, and that for seve- 
 ral reasons. 
 
 1. Because there are many couplets or stanzas written 
 in poetic measures, which contain a varietj'^ of morals 
 or rules of practice, relating to the common prudentials 
 of mankind, as well as to matters of religion, and the 
 poetic numbers (or rhyme, if there be any) add very 
 considerable force to the memory. 
 
 Besides, many an elegant or admirable sentiment or 
 desciiption of things, which are found among the 
 poets, are worth committing to memory, and the par- 
 ticular measures of verse greatly assist us in recollect- 
 ing such excellent passages, which might sometimes 
 raise our conversation from low and grovelling sub- 
 jects. 
 
 2. In heroic verse, but especially in the grander 
 lyrics, there are sometimes such noble elevations of 
 tnought and passion, as illuminate all things around 
 us, and convey to the soul most exalted and magnifi- 
 cent images and sublime sentiments ; these furnish us 
 "with glorious spnngs and mediums to raise and aggran- 
 dize our conceptions, to warm our souls, to awaken the 
 better passions, and to elevate them even to a divine 
 pitch, and that for devotional purposes. It is the lyric 
 ode which has shown to the world some of the happi- 
 est exam])les of this kind, and I cannot say but this 
 part of poesy has been my favourite amusement 
 above all others. 
 
 And for this reason it is, that I have never thought 
 the heroic poems, Greek, Latin, or English, which have 
 obtained the highest fame in the world, are sufficiently 
 diversified, exalted or animated, for want of the inter- 
 spersion of now and then an elegiac or a lyric ode. 
 This might have been done with great and beautiful 
 
OF THE MIND. 215 
 
 propriety, where the poet has introduced a song at a 
 feast, or the joys of a victory, or the the soliloquies of 
 divine satisfaction, or the pensive and despairing ago- 
 nies of distressing sorrow. Why should that which is 
 called the most glorious form of poesy be bound down 
 and confined to such a long and endless uniformity of 
 measures, when it should kindle or melt the soul, 
 swell or sink it into all the various and transporting 
 changes of which human nature is capable ? 
 
 Cowley, in his unfinished fragment of the Davideis, 
 has shown us this way to improvement ; and whatever 
 blemishes may be found in other parts of that heroic 
 essay, this beauty and glory of it ought to be preserved 
 for imitation. 1 am well assured, that if Homer and 
 Virgil had happened to practise it, it w^ould have been 
 renowned and glorified, by every critic, I am greatly 
 mistaken, if this wise mixture of numbers could not 
 be a further reach of perfection than they have ever 
 attained to without it ; let it be remembered, that it is 
 not nature and strict reason, but a weak and awful 
 reverence for antiquity, and the vogue of fallible men, 
 that has established those Greek and Roman writings 
 as absolute and complete patterns. In several ages 
 there have been some men of learning who have very 
 justly disputed this glory, and have pointed to many 
 of their mistakes. 
 
 5. But still there is another end of reading poesy, and 
 perhaps the most considerable advantage to be obtained 
 from it by the bulk of mankind, and that is, to furnish 
 our tongues with the richest and most polite variety 
 of phrases and w^ords upon all occasions of life or re- 
 ligion. He that whites well in verse, will often find a 
 necessity to send his thoughts in search through all the 
 treasure of W'ords that express any one idea in the same 
 language, that so he may comport with the measures, 
 nr rhyme of the verse which he writes, or with his 
 own most beautiful and vivid sentiments of the thing 
 he describes. Now by much reading of this kind, we 
 5hall insensibly acquire the habit and skill of diversify- 
 ing our phrases upon all occasions, and of expressing 
 3ur ideas in the most proper and beautiful language, 
 whether we write or speak of the things of God or 
 men. 
 
^16 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 It is pity that some of these harmonious writers 
 have ever indulged any thing uncleanly or impure to 
 deiile their paper and abuse the ears of their readers, 
 or to offend against the rules of the nicest virtue and 
 politeness, hut still among the writings of Mr. Dryden, 
 Mr. Pope, and Dr. Young, as well as others, there is h 
 sufficient choice in our own language, wherein we shall 
 not find any indecency to shock the most modest tongue 
 or ear. 
 
 Perhaps there has hardly been a writer in any nation, 
 and 1 may dare to affirm there is none in ours, has a 
 richer and happier talent of painting to the life, or has 
 ever discovered such a large and inexhausted variety 
 of description as the celebrated Mr. Pope. If you 
 read his translations of Homer's Iliad, you will iind 
 almost all the terms or phrases in our tongue that are 
 needful to express any thing that is grand or magnifi- 
 cent; but if you peruse his Odyssey, which descends 
 much more into common life, there is scarce any use- 
 ful subject of discourse or thought, or any ordinary 
 occurrences which he has not cultivated and dressed 
 in the most proper language ; and yet still he has enno- 
 bled and enlivened even the lower subjects with the 
 brightest and most agreeable ornaments. 
 
 1 should add here also, that if the same author had 
 more frequently employed his genius upon divine 
 themes, his short poem on the Messiah, part of his let- 
 ters between Abelard and Eloisa, with tnat ode on the 
 <lying Christian, &lc. sxifficiently assure us, that his 
 pen would have honourably imitated some of the 
 tender scenes of penitential sorrow, as well as the 
 sublimer odes of the Hebrew Psalmist, and perhaps 
 discovered to us in a better manner than any other 
 translation has done, how great a poet sat upon the 
 throne of Israel. 
 
 4. After all that 1 have said, there is yet ia further 
 use of reading poesv, and that is, yvhen the mind has 
 been fatigued with studies of a more laborious 
 kind, or when it is any ways unfit for the pursuit of 
 more difficult subjects^ it may be, as it were, unbent, 
 and repose itself a while on the flowery meadows 
 where the muses dwell. It is a very sensible r«lief 
 to the soul when it is over tired, to amuse itself with 
 fhe numbers and beautiful sentiments of the poets. 
 
OF THE MmD. £17 
 
 and in a little time this agreeable amusement may re«- 
 cover the languid spirits to activity and more impor- 
 '•^tant service. ' 
 
 XXXVIL All this I propose to the world as my 
 best observations about reading of verse. But if the 
 question were offered to me, Shall a student, of a 
 bright genius, never divert himBelf with writing poesy ? 
 I would answer. Yes, w^hen he cannot possibly help it; 
 a lower genius, in mature years, would heartily wisii 
 that he had spent much more time in reading the best 
 authors of this kind, and employed much fewer hours 
 in writing. But it must be confessed, or supposed at 
 least, ihat there maj"^ be seasons when it is hardly possi- 
 ble for a poetic soul to restrain the fancy or quench the 
 flame ; when it is hard to suppress the exuberant flow 
 of lofty sentiments, and prevent the imagination from 
 this sort of style or language ; and that is tlie only 
 season, i think, wherein this inclination should be in- 
 dulged ; especially by persons who have dovoted them- 
 selves to professions of a different kind ; and one 
 reason is, because what they write in tliat hour, is 
 more likely to carry in it some appearance above 
 nature, some happy imitation of the dictates of the 
 muse.* 
 
 XXXTIIL There are other things besides history, 
 grammar and languages, rhetoric and poesy, whicii 
 have been included under the name of philological 
 knowledge; such as, an acquaintance with the notions, 
 customs, manners, tempers, po'il)', &c. of the variou3 
 nations of the earth, or the distinct sects and tribes of 
 mankind. This is necessary, in order to understand 
 history the better ; and every man who is a lawyer or 
 a gentleman, ought to obtain some acquaintance with 
 these things, without which he c:in never ivad history 
 to any great advantage, nor can he maintain his own 
 station and character in life with honour and dignity 
 without some insight into them. 
 
 XXXIX. Students in divii^ity ought to seek a lar- 
 ger acquaintance with the Jewish laws,poHty,cn^tom.s, 
 &c. in order to understand many passages of the Old 
 Testament and New, and to vindicate the sacred wri- 
 
 * The Muse, in ibe ancient heathen sense is f opposed to be a f,ofidess-, 
 l^ut, in ihe philosophic sense, it can mean no more than a bright 
 genius, with a warm anU sticng imagination, ekvatcd to an uncojumsn 
 degree. 
 
 T 
 
ai8 IMPROVEMENT, kc. 
 
 ters from the reproaches of Infidels. An acquaintance 
 also with many of the Roman and Grecian affairs is 
 needful to explain several texts of scripture in the New 
 Testament, to lead sincere inquirers into the true and 
 genuine sense of the Evangelists and Apostles, and 
 to guard their writings from the unreasonable cavils of 
 men. 
 
 XL. The art of criticism is reckoned by some as a 
 distinct part of philology ; but in truth it is nothing else 
 than a more exact and accurate knowledge or skill in 
 the other parts of it, and a readiness to apply that 
 knowledge upon all occasions, in order to judge well 
 of what relates to these subjects, to explain what is 
 obscure in the authors which we read, to supply what 
 is defective, and amend what is erroneous in manu- 
 scripts or ancient copies, to correct the mistakes of au- 
 thors and editors in the sense or the words, to reconcile 
 the controversies of the learned ; and by these means 
 to spread a juster knowledge of these things among 
 the inquisitive part of mankind. 
 
 Every man who pretends to the learned professions, 
 if he doth not arise to be a critic himself in philological 
 matters, he should be frequently conversing with those 
 books, whether dictionaries, paraphrasts, commenta- 
 tors, or other critics which may relieve any difficulties 
 he meets with, and give him a more exact acquaintance 
 with those studies which he pursues. 
 
 And whensoever any person is arrived to such a 
 degree of knowledge in these things as to furnish him 
 well for the practice of criticism, let him take great 
 care that pride and vanity, contempt of others, with 
 inward wrath and insolence, do not mingle themselves 
 with his remarks and censures. Let him remember 
 the common frailties of human nature, and the mis- 
 takes to which the wisest man is so^ etimes liable, 
 that he may practise this art with due modesty and 
 candour. 
 
 END OF PART 1 
 
IMPROYEMENT OF THE MIND. 
 
 PART II, 
 
 COMMUNICATION OF USEFUL KNOWLEDGE. 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 J. HE chief design of the former part of this bo6k is 
 to lead us into proper methods for the improvement of 
 our own knowledge : let us now consider what are the 
 best means of improving the minds of others, and of 
 communicating to them the knowledge which we have 
 acquired. If the treasures of the mind should be 
 hoarded up and concealed, they would profit none be- 
 sides the possessor, and even his advantage by the pos- 
 session would be poor and narrow in comparison of 
 what the (same treasures w'ould yield, both to himself 
 and to the world, by a free communication and diffusion 
 of them. Large quantities of knowledge acquired and 
 reserved by one man, Uke heaps of g6ld and silver, 
 would contract a sort of rust and disagreeable aspect, 
 by lying in everlasting secrecy and silence ; bi.it they 
 are burnished and glitter by perpetual circulation 
 through the tribes of mankind. 
 
 The two chief ways of conveying" knowledge to 
 others, are that of verbal instruction to our disciples, 
 or by writing and publishing our thoughts to the world. 
 
 Here, therefore, I shall propose some observations 
 which relate to the conveyance of knowledge to others, 
 byM-egular lectures of verbal instruction, or by conver- 
 sation : I shall represent several of the chief prejudices 
 of which learners are in danger, v^ith directions to guard 
 against them ; and then mention some of tne easiest and 
 
Hi 
 
 220 IM'PROVEMENT 
 
 most efTectual ways of convincing persons of their min 
 t;:k;'S, and of dealing with their understanding, when 
 they labour under tlie power of prejudice. I shall after- 
 Tvard.-? add, by way of appendix, an essay written many 
 yoa;3 ago, on the subject of Educatl'tn, Avhen 1 design- 
 ed a more complete treatise of it. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Midhods of Tcachingj and Reading Lectures. 
 
 E that h.vs learned any thing tlioronshly, in a clear 
 and n^ethodicnl manner, and has attain^^l a distinct 
 perception and an ample survey of the whole subject, 
 }S senertijy best prepared to teich the same snliject 
 in r, clear and easy method ; for having acquired a large 
 and distinct idea of it, and made it familiar to himself 
 by frequent meditation, reading, and occasional dis- 
 course, he is supposed to see it on all sides, to grasp it, 
 with all its appendices and relations, in one survey, and 
 is better able to represcntit to the learner in all its views, 
 with all its properties, relations and consequences. He 
 knows which view or side of the subject to hold jwit 
 first to his disciple, and how to propose to his under- 
 standing that part of it which is easiest to apprehend ; 
 and also knows how to set it in such a light, as is most 
 likely to allure and to assist his further inquiry. 
 
 But it is not every one who is a great soliolar that 
 always becomes the happiest teaciier, even though h« 
 may have a clear conception, and a methoxJical as well 
 as aj extensive survey of the branches of any science. 
 He must also be well acquainted with v/ords, as well as 
 ideas, in a proper variety, that when his disciple does 
 not take in the ideas in one form of expr/;ssion, he may 
 change the phrase into sever<il forms, till ;it last he 
 hits tlie understanding of his scholar, and enlightens it 
 in the just idea of truth. 
 
 Besidtvs this, a tutor should he a person of a happy 
 and condescending temper, who has patience to bea'r 
 with a slowness of perception, or want of sagacity in 
 some learners. He should also have much candour of 
 soul, to pass a gentle censure on. their impertinences, 
 and to pity them in their mistakes, and use every mild 
 iind engaging metliod for insinuating knowledge iiHo 
 
OF THE MIN£). 221 
 
 those "who are willing and diligent in seeking truth, as 
 ■well as reclaiming those who are wandering into error. 
 But of this I have spoken somewhat already in a chap- 
 ter of the former part, and shall have occasion to express 
 something more of it shortly. 
 
 A very pretty and useful way to lead a person into 
 the knowledge of any particular truth is, by question 
 and answer, which is the Socratical method of dispu- 
 tation, and therefore I refer the reader to that chapter 
 or section which treats of it. On this account, dialogues 
 are used as a polite and pleasant method of leading 
 gentlemen and ladies into some of the sciences, who 
 seek not the most accurate and methodical treasure of 
 learning. 
 
 But the most usual and perhaps the most excellent 
 way of instructing students in any of the sciences is, 
 by reading lectures, as tutors in the academy do to 
 their pupil§. 
 
 The first work is to choose a book well written, 
 wliich contains a short scheme or abstract of that sci- 
 ence ; or at least it should not be a very copious and 
 diffusive treatise. Or, if the tutor knows not arty such 
 book alrea-dy written, he should draw up an abstract of 
 that science himself, containing the most substantial 
 and important parts of it, disposed in such a method 
 as he best approves. 
 
 Let a chapter or section of this be read daily by the 
 learner, on which the tutor shall paraphrase in this 
 manner, namely : 
 
 He should explain both words and ideas more large- 
 ly ; and especially what is dark and difficult should be 
 opened and illustrated, partly by various forms of 
 speech, and partly by apt similitudes and examples. 
 Where the sense of the author is dubious, it must also 
 be fixed and determined. 
 
 Where the arguments are strong and cogent, they 
 should be enforced by some further paraphrase, and 
 the truth of the inferences should be made plainly to 
 appear. Wherq the arguments are weak and insufficient, 
 they should be either confirmed or rejected as useless ; 
 and new arguments, if need be, should be added to 
 support that doctrine. 
 
 What is treated very concisely in the author should 
 he amplified, and where several things are laid closely 
 T 2 
 
222 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 together, they must be taken to pieces and opened by 
 parts. X 
 
 Where the tutor differs from the author which he 
 reads, he should gently point out and confute his mis- 
 takes. 
 
 Where the method and order of the book is just and 
 happy, it should be pursued and commended ; where 
 it is defective and irregular, it should be corrected. 
 
 The most necessary, the most remarkable and useful 
 parts *)f that treatise, or of that science, should be 
 peculiarly recommended to the learners, and pressed 
 upon them, that they would retain it in memory ; and 
 what is more unnecessary or superfluous should be 
 distinguished, lest the learner should spend too much 
 time in the more needless parts of a science. 
 
 Tile various ends, uses and services of that science, 
 or of any part of it, should be also declared and exem- 
 plified as far as the tutor hath opportunity and furni- 
 ture to do it ; particularly in mathematics and natural 
 philosophy. 
 
 And if there be any thing remarkably beautiful or 
 defective in the style of the writer, it is proper for the 
 tutor to make a just remark upon it. 
 
 While he is reading and explaining any particular 
 treatise to his pupils, he may compare the different 
 editions of the same book, or different writers upon 
 the same subject ; he should inform them where that 
 subject is treated by other authors, which they may 
 peruse, and lead his disciples thereby to a further eluci- 
 dation, confirmation, or improvement of that theme of 
 discourse in which he is instructing them. 
 
 It is alluring and agreeable to the learner also, now 
 and then to be entertmned with some historical re- 
 marks, or any occurrences ot useful stories which the 
 tutor has met with, relating to the several parts of such 
 a science, provided he does not put off his pupils merely 
 with such stories, and neglect to give them a solid and 
 rational information of the theme in hand. Teachers 
 should endeavour, as far as possible, to join profit and 
 pleasure together, and mingle delight with their in- 
 structions ; but at the same time they must take heed, 
 that they do not merely amuse the ears, and gratify 
 the fancy ©f their disciples, without enriching their 
 minds. 
 
OF THE MIND; 229 
 
 In reading lectures of instruction, let the teacher be 
 very solicitous that the learners take up his meaning, 
 and therefore he should frequently inquire, whether 
 he expresses himself intelligibly, whether they under- 
 stand nis sense and take in all his ideas, as he endeav- 
 ours to convey them in his own forms of speech. 
 
 It is necessary that he who instructs others, should 
 use the most proper style for the conveyance of his 
 ideas easily into the minds of those who hear him ; 
 and though in teaching the sciences, a person is not 
 confined to the same rules by which we must govern 
 our language in conversation, for he must necessarily 
 make use of many terms of art, and hard words, yet 
 he should never use them merely to show his learning, 
 nor atfect sounding language without necessity ; a cau- 
 tion which we shall soon further inculcate. 
 
 I think it very convenient and proper, if not abso- 
 lutely necessary, that when a tutor reads a following 
 If cture to his pupils, he should run over the foregoing 
 lecture in questions proposed to them, and by this 
 means acquaint himself with their daily proficiencj\* 
 It is vain for the learner to object, surely we are not school 
 boys, to say our lessons again ; we came to be taught, 
 and not to be catechised and examined. But alas ! 
 how is it possible for a teacher to proceed in his in- 
 structions if he knows not how far the learner takes in 
 and remembers what he has been taught? 
 
 Besides I must generally believe it is sloth or idleness, 
 it is real ignorance, incapacity, or unreasonable pride, 
 that makes a learner refuse to give his teacher an ac- 
 count how far he has profited by his last instructions. 
 For want of this constant examination, young gentle- 
 men have spent some idle and useless years, even under 
 the daily labours and inspection of a learned teacher ; 
 and they have returned from the academy without the 
 gain of any one science, and even with the shameful 
 loss of their classical learning, that is the knowledge of 
 
 ' * This precaution, Ihouofh never to be neglected, is of especial impor- 
 tance when a pupil is entering on any new branch of learning", where il 
 is absolutely necessary the fundamental definitions and principles should 
 not only be clearly understood, but should be rendered verj' familiar to 
 the mind ; and probably most tutors have found young persons sadly 
 beivilde red as they have gone on in their lectures, for want of a little 
 more patience and ciare in this respect. 
 
2£4 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 Greek and Latin, which they had learnt in the grammar 
 school. 
 
 Let the teacher always accommodate himself to the 
 j^enius, temper, and capacity of his disciples, and prac- 
 tise various methods of prudence to allure, persuade, 
 and assist everyone of them in their pursuit of knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 Where the scholar has less sagacit}'', let the teacher 
 enlarge his illustrations ; let him search and find out 
 where the learner sticks, what is the difficulty ; and 
 thus let him help the labouring intellect. 
 
 Where the learner manifests forward genius, and a 
 sprightly curiosity by frequent inquiries ; let the teach- 
 er oblige such an inquisitive soul by satisfying those 
 questions as far as may be done by decency and con- 
 veniency ; and where these inquiries are unseasonable, 
 let him not silence the 5'oung inquirer with a magiste- 
 rial rebuff, but with much candour and gentleness post- 
 pone those questions, and rt'fer them to a proper iiour. 
 
 Curiosity is a useful spring of knowledge, it should 
 be encouraged in children, and awakened by frequent 
 and familiar methods of talking with them. It should 
 be indulged in youth, but not without a prudent mod-* 
 eration. In those who have too much, it should be 
 limited by a wise and gentle restraint or delay, lest by 
 wandering after ever}'^ thing, they learn nothing to 
 perfection. In those who have too little, it should he 
 excited, lest they grow stupid, narrow spirited, self- 
 satisfied, and never attain a treasure of ideas, or an ap- 
 titude of understanding. 
 
 Let not the teacher demand or expect things too 
 sublime and difficult from the humble, modest, and 
 fearful disciple ; and where such an one gives a just and 
 happy answer, even to plain and easy questions, let 
 him have words of commendation and love ready for 
 him. Let him encourage every spark of kindling light, 
 till it grow up to bright evidence and confirmed knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 Where he finds a lad pert, positive, and presuminj^, 
 let the tutor take every just occasion to show him his 
 error ; let him set the absurdity in complete light before 
 him, and convince him, by a full demonstration of his 
 mistake, till he sees and feels it, and learns to be mod- 
 est and humble. 
 
OF THE MIND. £25 
 
 A teacher should not only ol)serve the diiferent spirit 
 and hilniour among his scfiolars, but he should watch 
 the various efforts of their reason, and growth of their 
 imderstandinj^. He should practice in his young nur- 
 sery of learuingas a skilful j^ardener does in his veget- 
 able dominions, and apply prudent methods of culti- 
 vation to every plant. Let him with a discreet and 
 gentle hand nip or }-)runii the irregular shoots, let him 
 guard and encourage the tender buddings of the under- 
 standing, till they be raised to a blossom, and let him 
 kindly cherish tho younger fruits. 
 
 Tlie tutor should take every occasion to instil knowl- 
 edge into his disciples, and make use of every occur- 
 rence in life, to raise some profitable conversation upon 
 k : He should frequently inquire something of his 
 disciples that may set their young reason to work, and 
 teach tiiera how to form inferences and to draw One 
 pn)position out of another. 
 
 Reason being that faculty of mind Avhich he has to 
 deal with in his pupil, let him endeavour by all proper 
 and familiar methods to call it into exercise, and to en- 
 large the powers of it. He should take frequent oppor- 
 tunities to show them when an idea is clear or confused^ 
 when the pro]x)sition js evident or doubtful, and when 
 an argument is feeble or strong ; and by this means 
 their minds will be so formed, that whatsoever he 
 proposes, with evidence and strength of reason, they 
 will readily receive. 
 
 When any uncommon appearances arise in the natu- 
 ral, moral, or political world, he should invite and in-r 
 struct them to make their remarks on it, and give them 
 the best reflections of his Own, for the improvement of 
 iheir minds. 
 
 He should by all means make it appear that he loves 
 his pupHs, and that he seeks nothing so much as their 
 increase of knowledge, and their growth in a]l valuable 
 acquirements ; this will engage their affection to his 
 person, and procure a just attention to his lectures. 
 
 And indeed there is but little hope that a teacher 
 should obtain any success in his instructions, unless 
 those that hear him have some good degree of es- 
 teem and respect for his person and character. And 
 here I cannot but take notice by the way, that it is a 
 jQ^afeter of infinite and- unspeakable injury to the people 
 
!226 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 of any town or parish, where the minister lies under 
 contempt. If he has procured it hy his own conduct, 
 he is doubly crimin;il, because of the injury he does to 
 the souls of them that hear him ; but if this contempt 
 and reproach be cast upon him by the wicked, malicious, 
 and unjust censures of men, they must bear all the ill 
 consequences of receiving no good by his labours, and 
 will be accountable hereafter to the great and divine 
 judge of* all. 
 
 It would be very necessary to add, in this place, if 
 tutors wei-e not well apprized of it hr-fore, that siijce 
 learners are obliged to seek a divine blessing on iheir 
 studies, by fervent prayer to the God of all wisdom, 
 their tutors should go before them in this pious prac- 
 tice, and make daily addresses to heaven for the success 
 of their instructions. 
 
 CHAP. 11. 
 
 Of an Instructive Style. 
 
 X HE most necessary and most useful character of a 
 style fit for instruction is, that it be*plain, perspicuous, 
 and easy. And here I shall first point out all those 
 errors in a style, which diminish or destroj^ the per- 
 spixiuity of it, and then mention a few directions how 
 to obtain a perspicuous and easy style. 
 
 The errors of style which must be avoided by teach- 
 ers, are these that follow : 
 
 I. The use of many foreign words, which are not 
 sufficiently naturalized and mingled with the language 
 which we speak or write. It is true, that in teaching 
 the sciences in English, we must sometimes use words 
 borrowed from the Greek and Latin, for we have not 
 in English, names for a variety of subjects which be- 
 long to learning ; but when a man affects, upon all occa- 
 sions, to bring in long sounding words from the ancient 
 languages without necessity, and mingles French and 
 other outlandish terms and phrases, where plain Eng- 
 lish would serve as well, he betrays a vain and foolish 
 genius, unbecoming a teacher. 
 
 II. Avoid a fantastic learned style, borrowed from 
 the various sciences, where the subject and matter do 
 not require the use of them. Do not alTect terms of 
 
OF THE MIND. ^27 
 
 art on every Occasion, nor seek to show your learning 
 by sounding words and dark phrases ; this is properly 
 called pedantry. 
 
 Young preachers, just come from the schools, are 
 often tempted to fill their sermons with logical and 
 metaphysical terms in explaining their text, and feed 
 their hearers with sonorous words of vanity. This 
 scholastic language, perhaps, may flatter their own am- 
 bition, and raise a wonderment at their learning, among 
 the staring multitude, without any manner of influence 
 toward the instruction of the ignorant, or the reforma- 
 tion of the immoral or impious ; these terms of art are 
 but the tools of an artificer, by which his work is 
 wrought in private ; but the tools ought not to appear 
 in the finished workmanship. 
 
 There are some persons so fond of geometry, that 
 they bring in lines and circles, tangents and parabolas, 
 theorems, problems and postulates, upon all occasions. 
 Others who have dealt in astronomy borrow even their 
 nouns and their verbs, in their common discourse, from 
 the stars and planets ; instead of saying Jacob had 
 twelve sons, they tell you, Jacob had as many sons 
 as there are signs in the zodiac. If they describe an 
 inconstant person, they make a planet of him, and 
 set him forth in all his appearances, direct, retro- 
 grade and stationary. If a candle be set behind a 
 screen, they call it eclipsed ; and tell jou fine stories of 
 the orbit and the revolutions, the radii and the limb, or 
 circumference of a cart-wheel. 
 
 Others again dress up their sense in chemical lan- 
 guage ; extracts and oils, salts and essences, exalt and 
 invigorate their discourses ; a great wit with them, is a 
 sublimated spirit ; and a blockhead is a ca'jyut mortuum. 
 A certain doctor in his bill, swells in his own idea, 
 when he tells the town, that he has been counsellor to 
 the counsellors of several kings and princes, that he 
 has arrived at the knowledge of the green, black, and 
 golden dragon, known only to magicians and hermetic 
 philosophers. It would be well if the quacks alone 
 had a patent for this language. 
 
 III. There are some fine affected words, that are 
 used only at court, and some peculiar phrases that are 
 sounding or gaudy, and belong only to the theatre j 
 these should not come into the lectures of instruction,: 
 
228 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 the language of poets has too much of metaphor in it 
 to lead mankind into clear and distinct ideas of Ihings; 
 the business of poesy is to strike the soul Avith a glaring 
 light, and to urge the passions into a flame by splendid 
 shows, by stiong images, and a pathetic vehemence of 
 style ; but it is another sort of speech that is best suited 
 to lead the calm inquirer into just conceptions of things. 
 
 IV. There is a mean vulgar style, borrowed from the 
 lower ranks of mankind, the basest characters and 
 meanest affairs of life ;this is also to be avoided ; fur it 
 should he supposed, that persons of liberal education 
 have not been bred up within the hearing of such lan- 
 guage, and consequently, they cannot understand it ; be- 
 sides, tliatit would create very offensive ideas, should we 
 borrow even similies for illustration from the scullery, 
 the dunghill, and the jakes. 
 
 V. An obscure and mysterious manner of expression 
 and cloudy language is to be avoided. Some pej-sons 
 bave been led by education, or by some foolisli prejudi- 
 ces, into a dark and unintelligible way of thinking and 
 speaking, and this continues with them all iheirlives, 
 and clouds and confourids their i.deas. Perhaps some 
 of these may have been blessed with a great and com- 
 prehensive genius, with sublime natural parts, and a 
 torrent of ideas flowing in upon them ; yet for want of 
 clearness in the manner of their conception and- l«»n- 
 guage, they sometimes drown their own subject of dis- 
 course, and overwhelm their argument in darkness and 
 perplexity. Such preachers as have read much of the 
 mystical divinity of the Papists, and imitated their man- 
 ner of expression, have manj-^ times buried a fine under- 
 standing under the obscurity ot such a style. 
 
 VI. A long and tedious style is very improper for a 
 teacher ; for this also lessens the perspicuity of it. Some 
 learned writers are never satisfied, unless they fill up 
 every sentence with a great number of ideas and senti- 
 ments; they swell their propositions to an enormous size 
 by explications, exceptions, and precautions, lest they 
 should be mistaken, and crowd them all into the same 
 period ; they involve and darken their discourse by many 
 parentheses, and prolong their sentences to a tiresome 
 extent, beyond the reach of a common comprehension ; 
 such sort of writers or speakers may be rich in know- 
 ledge, but they are seldom fit to communicate it. Hr 
 
OF THE MIND. ££9 
 
 that would gain a happy talent for the instruction of 
 others, must know how to disentangle and divide his 
 thoughts, if too many of them are ready to crowd into 
 one paragraph ; and let him rather speak three senten- 
 ces distinctly and perspicuously, which the hearer re- 
 ceives at once with his ears and his soul, than crowd all 
 the thought into one sentence, which the hearer has 
 forgot before he can understand it. 
 
 But this leads ttie to the next thing I proposed, which 
 was to mention some methods, whereby such a perspi- 
 cuity of style may be obtained as is proper for instruc- 
 tion. 
 
 1. Accustom yourself to read those authors wiio 
 think and write with great clearness and evidence ; such 
 as convey their ideas into your undei*standing as fast as 
 your eye or tongue can run over their sentences; this 
 will imprint upon the mind an habit of imitation ; we 
 shall learn the style with which we are very conversant, 
 and practise it with ease and success. 
 
 2. Get a distinct and comprehensive knowledge of the 
 subject which you treat of; survey it on all sides, and 
 make yourself perfect master of it ; then you will have 
 all the sentiments that relate to it in your view and 
 under your command ; and your tongue will very easily 
 clothe those ideas with words, which your mmd has 
 first made so familiar and easy to itself. 
 
 Scribendi rede sapere est et principium etfons : 
 Verba(^ut provisam rem non invila sequenlur 
 
 Ilor. de Arte Poeiicd 
 
 Good teachhig from good knowledge springs j 
 Words will make haste to follow things. 
 
 S. Be well skilled in the language which you speak ; 
 acquaint yourself with all the idioms and special 
 ])hrases of it, which are necessary to convey the need- 
 ful ideas on the subject of which you treat, in the most 
 various and most easy manner to the understanding of 
 the hearer ; the variation of a phrase in several forms, 
 is of admirable use to instruct ; it is like turning all sides 
 of the subject to view ; and if the learner happen not 
 to take in the ideas in one form of speech, probably 
 another may be successful for that end. 
 
 Upon this account I have always thought it a useful 
 manner of instruction, which is used in some Latin 
 U 
 
230 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 schools, which they call variation. Take some plain 
 sentence in the English tongue, and turn it into many 
 forms in Latin ; as for instance, a wolf let into the sheep 
 fold will devour the sheep : if you let a wolf into the fold, 
 the sheep Avill be devoured : tlie wolf will devour the 
 sheep, if the sheep fold he left open ; if the fold be not 
 shut carefully, the wolf will devour the sheep : the sheep 
 will be devoured by the wdlf, ifit find the-way into the 
 fold open : there is no defence of the sheep from the 
 w^olf, unless it be kept out of the fold : a slaughter will be 
 made among the sheep, if the wolf can get into the fold. 
 Thus by turning the active voice of verbs into the pas- 
 sive, and the nominative case of nouns into the accusa- 
 tive, and altering the connexion of short sentences by 
 different adverbs or conjunctions, and by ablative cases 
 with a preposition brought ini-tead of the nominative, 
 or by participles sometimes put instead of the verbs, 
 the negation of, and the contrary, instead of the asser- 
 tion of the thing first proposed, a ^reat variety of forms 
 of speech will be created, which shall express the same 
 sense. 
 
 4. Acquire a variety of words, a copia verb&rum; let 
 your memory be rich in synonimous terms, or words 
 expressing the same thing; this will not only attain the 
 same happy effect, with the variation of phrases in the 
 foregoing direction, but it will add a beauty also to 
 your style, by securing you from an appearance of 
 tautology, or repeating the same words too often, 
 which sometimes may disgust the ear of the learner. 
 
 5. Learn the art of shortening your sentences, by 
 dividing a long complicated period into two or three 
 small ones. When others connect and join two or 
 three sentences in one, by relative pronouns, as which, 
 whereof, wherein, whereto, fcc. and by pirentheses 
 frequently inserted ; do you rather divide them into 
 distinct periods, or at least if they must be united, let 
 it be done rather by conjunctions and copulatives, that 
 they may appear like distinct sentences, and give less 
 confusion to the hearer or reader. 
 
 I know no method so effectually to learn what I mean, 
 as to take now and then a page of an author, who is 
 guilty of such a long involved parenthetical style, and 
 translate it into plainer English by dividing the ideas or 
 the sentences asunder, and multiplying the periods, till 
 
OF THE BIIIND. ;ii31 
 
 the language become smooth and easy, and intelligible 
 at first reading. 
 
 6. Talk frequently to young and ignorant persons, 
 upon subjects which are knevz and unknown to them, 
 and be diligent to inquire whether they understand you 
 or no ; this will put you upon changing your phrases 
 and forms of speech in a variety, till you can hit their 
 capacity, and convey your ideas into their understand- 
 ing. 
 
 CHAP. HI. 
 
 Of convincing other Persons of any Truth ; or deliver- 
 ing them from errors and mistakes. 
 
 W HEN we are arrived at a just and rational estab- 
 lishment in an opinion, whether it relate to religion or 
 common life, we are naturally desirous of bringing all 
 the world into our sentiments ; and this proceeds from 
 the affectation and pride of superior influence upon the 
 judgment of ourfellow creatures, much more frequently 
 than it does from a sense of duty, or a love of truth ; 
 60 vicious and corrupt is human nature. Yet there is 
 such a thing to be found, as an honest and sincere de- 
 light in propagating truth ; arising from a dutiful regard 
 to the honours of our Maker, and an hearty love to 
 mankind. Now, if we would be successful in our at- 
 tempts to convince men of their errors, and to promote 
 the truth, let us divest ourselves as far as possible of that 
 pride and affectation which I mentioned before, and 
 seek to acquire that disinterested love to men, and zeal 
 for the truth, which will naturally lead us into the best 
 methods to promote it. And here the following direc- 
 tions may be useful. 
 
 1. If you would convince a person of his mistake, 
 "choose a proper place, a happy hour, and the fittest 
 concurrent circumstances for this purpose." Do not 
 unseasonably set upon him when he is engaged in the 
 midst of other affairs, but when his soul is at liberty, 
 and at leisure to hear and attend. Accost him not up- 
 on that subject, when his spirit is ruffled or discompo- 
 sed with any occurrences of life, and especially when 
 he has heated his passions in the defence of a contrary 
 opinion ; but rather seize a golden opportunity, when 
 
232 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 some occurrences of life may cast a favourable aspect 
 upon the truth of which you would convince him, or 
 ■which may throw some dark and unhappy colour or 
 consequence upon that error from which you would 
 fain deliver him. There are in life some moUissima 
 tempora fandi, some very agreeable moments of ad- 
 dressing a person, which, if rightly managed, may 
 render your attempts much more successful, and his 
 conviction easy and pleasant. 
 
 2. Make it appear by your whole conduct to the 
 person you would teach, that you mean him well, that 
 your design is not to triumph over his opinion, nor to 
 expose his ignorance or his incapacity of defending 
 what he asserts. Let him see that it is not your aim to 
 advance your own character, as a disputant, nor to set 
 yourself up for an instructerof mankind ; but that you 
 love him, and seek his true interest ; and do not only 
 assure him of this in words, when you are entering 
 on an argument with him, but let the whole of 
 your conduct to him at all times, demonstrate your 
 real friendship for hira. Truth and argument come 
 with particular force from the mouth of one whom we 
 trrst and love. 
 
 3. The softest and gentlest address to the erroneous 
 is the best way to convince them of their mistake. 
 Sometimes it is necessary to represent to your oppo- 
 nent, that he is not far off from the truth, and that yoa 
 would fain draw him a little nearer to it ; commend 
 and establish whatever he says that is just and true, as 
 our blessed Saviour treated the young scribe, when he 
 answered well concerning the two great command- 
 ments : " Thou art not far.'''' says our Lord, "/rem the 
 kingdom of heaven^ Mark. xii. 34. Imitate the mild- 
 ness and conduct of the blessed Jesus. 
 
 Come as near to your opponent as you can in all 
 your propositions, and yield to him as much as you 
 dare, in a consistence with truth and justice. 
 
 It is a very great and fatal mistake, in persons 
 who attempt to convince and reconcile others to their 
 party, when they make the •difference appear as wide as 
 possible: this is shocking to any person who is to he 
 convinced; be will choose rather to keep ard iiiaintain 
 his own opinions, if he cannot come into yours 
 withotit renouncing and abandoning every thing that 
 
OF THE MIND, 23S 
 
 he believed before. Human nature must be flattered 
 a little, as well as reasoned with, that so the argument 
 may be able to come at his understanding, which other- 
 wise will be thrust off at a distance. If you charge 
 a man with nonsense and absurdities, with 'heresy and 
 self-contradiction, you take a very wrong step toward 
 convincing him. 
 
 Remember that error is not to be rooted out of the 
 mind of man by reproaches and railing, by flashes of 
 wit, and biting jests, by loud exclamations or sharp 
 ridicule. Long declamations and triumph over our 
 neighbour's mistakes, will not prove the way to con- 
 vince him ; these are signs either of a bad cause, or 
 of want of arguments, or capacity for the defence of 
 a good one. 
 
 4. Set therefore a constant watch over yourself, lest 
 you grow warm in dispute before j^ou are aware. The 
 passions never clear the understanding, but raise dark- 
 ness, clouds, and confusion in the soul : human nature 
 is like water which has mud atthe bottom of it ; it may 
 be clear while it is calm and undisturbed, and the ideas, , 
 . like pebbles, appear bright at the bottom ; but when 
 once it is stirred and moved by passion, the mud rises 
 uppermost, and spreads confusion ard darkness over 
 all the ideas; you cannot set things in so just and 
 BO clear a light before the eyes of your neighbour, 
 while your own conceptions are clouded with heat and 
 passion. 
 
 Besides, when your own spirits are a little disturbed, 
 and your wrath is awakened, this naturally kindles the 
 same fire in your correspondent, and prevents him 
 from taking in your ideas were they ever so clear; 
 for his passions are engaged all on a sudden for the 
 defence of his own mistakes, and they combat as 
 fiercely as yours do, which perhaps may be awakened 
 on the side of truth. 
 
 To provoke a person whom you would convince, 
 not only rouses his anger, and sets it against your doc- 
 trine, but it directs its resentment against your person, 
 .•\s well as against all your instructions and arguments. 
 5rou must treat an opponent like a friend, if you would 
 persuade him to learn any thing from you ; and this is 
 one great reason why there is so little success on either 
 U £ 
 
234 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 side between two disputants or controversial writers, 
 because tliey are so ready to interest their passions in 
 the subject of contest, and thereby to prevent the mu- 
 tual light that might be given and received on either 
 side ; ambition, indignfition, and a professed zeal, reign 
 on both sides : victory is the point designed, w hile 
 truth is pretended ; and truth oftentimes perishes in 
 the fray, or retires from the field of battle: the com- 
 batants end just where they began, their understand- 
 ings hold fast the same opinions, perhaps with this 
 disadvantage, that they are a little more obstinate and 
 rooted in them, without fresh reason ; and they gen- 
 erally come off with the loss of temper and charity. 
 
 5. Neither attempt nor hope to convince a person of 
 his mistake by any penal methods or severe 
 usage. There is no light brought into the mind by all 
 the fire and sword, and bloody persecutions that were 
 ever introduced into the world. One w ould think both 
 the princes, the priests, and the people, the learned and 
 the unlearned, the great and the mean should have all 
 by this time seen the folly and madness of seeking to 
 propagate the truth by the laws of cruelty : we compel 
 a beast to the yoke by blow s, because the ox and the 
 ass have no understanding ; but intellectual powers are 
 not to be fettered and compelled at this rate. Men 
 cannot believe what they will, nor change their religion 
 and their sentiments as they please : they may be made 
 hypocrites by the forms of severity, and constrained to 
 profess what they do not believe ; they may be forced 
 to comply with external practices and ceremonies con- 
 trary to their ow n consciences ; but this can never 
 please God, nor profit men. 
 
 6. In order to convince another, you should always 
 make choice of those arguments that are best suited to 
 his understanding and capacity, his genius and temper, 
 his state, station, and circumstances. If I were to per- 
 suade a ploughman of the truth of any form of church 
 government, it should not be attempted by the use of 
 Greek and Latm fathers, but from the word of God, 
 the light of nature, and the common reason of things. 
 
 7. Arguments should always be proposed in such a 
 manner as may lead the mind onward to perceive the 
 truth in a clear and agreeable light, as well as to con- 
 
OF THE MIND. 235 
 
 strain the assent by the power of reasoning. Clear 
 ideas, in many cases, are as useful toward conviction as 
 a well-formed and unanswerable syllogism, 
 
 8. Allow the person you desire to instruct, a reasona- 
 ble time to enter into the force of your arguments. 
 When you have declared your own sentiments in the 
 brightest manner of illustration, and enforced them 
 with the most convincing arguments, you are not to 
 suppose that your friend should immediately be con- 
 vinced and receive the truth : habitude in a particular 
 way of thinking, as well as in most other things, obtains 
 the force of nature ; and you cannot expect to wean a 
 man from his accustomed errors but by slow degrees, 
 and by his own assistance ; entreat him, therefore not to 
 iud^e on a sudden, nor determine against you at once ; 
 but that he would please to review your scheme, reflect 
 upon your arguments with all the impartiality he is 
 capable of, and take time to think these over again at 
 large ; at least, that he would be disposed to hear 
 you speak yet ifurther on this subject, without pain or 
 aversion. 
 
 Address him therefore in an obliging manner, and 
 say, I am not so fond as to think I have placed the 
 subject in such lights as to throw you on a sudden into 
 a new track of thinking, or to make you immediatel}' 
 lay aside your present opinions or designs ; all that I 
 hope is, that sonie hint or other which 1 have given is 
 capable of being improved by you to your own convic- 
 tion, or possibly it may lead you to such a train of 
 reasoning, as in time to effect a change in your thoughts. 
 Which hint leads me to add, 
 
 9. Labour as much as possible to make the person 
 you would teach his own instructer. Human nature 
 may be allured, by a secret pleasure and pride in its 
 own reasoning, to seem to find out by itself the ver}^ 
 thing that you would teach ; and there are some per- 
 sons that have so much of this natural bias toward 
 self, rooted in them, that they can never be convinced 
 of a mistake by the plainest and strongest arguments 
 to the contrary, though the demonstration glare in their 
 faces ; but they may be tempted, by such gentle in- 
 sinuations, to follow a track of thought which you 
 propose, till they have wound themselves out of their 
 9wn error, and led themselves hereby into your owa 
 
236 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 opinion, if you do but let it appear tliattliey are under 
 tlieir own guidance rather than yours. And perhaps 
 theie is nothing which shows more dexterity of ad- 
 dress than this secret influence over the minds of 
 others, which they do not discern even while they fol- 
 low it. 
 
 10. if you can gain the main point in question, be 
 not very solicitous about the nicety with which it shall 
 be expressed. Mankind is so vain a thing, that it is 
 not willing to derive from another; and though it can- 
 not have every thing from itself, yet it would seem at 
 least to mingle something of its own with what it 
 derives elsewtiere ; therefore when you have set your 
 sentiment in the fullest light, and proved it in the most 
 eifectual manner, an opponent will bring in some frivo- 
 lous and useless distinction, on purpose to change the 
 form of words in the question, and acknowledge 
 that he receives your pro[)osition in such a sense, 
 and in such a manner <»f expn!ssi<m, though he cannot 
 receive it in your terms and phrase?. V'anillus will con- 
 fess he is now convinced that a man who behaves well 
 in the state ought not to be punished for his religion, 
 but yet he will consent to allow an universal toleration 
 of nil religions Avhich do not injure the state, which is 
 the proposition I had b^en proving. Well, let Vanillus, 
 therefore, use his own language: 1 am glad he is con- 
 vinced of the truth, he shall have leave to dress it in his 
 own way. 
 
 To these directions I shall add two remarks in the 
 conclusion of this chapter, which would not so proper- 
 ly fall under the preceding directions. 
 
 J. Remark. When you have laboured to instruct a 
 person in some controverted truth, and yet he retains 
 some prejudice against it, so that be doth not yield to 
 the convincing force of your argrmients, you may 
 sometimes have happy success in convincing him of 
 that truth, by setting him to read a weak author who 
 writes against it : a young reader will find such pleasure 
 in being able to answer the arguments of the opposer, 
 that he will drop his former prejudices against the 
 truth, and yield to the power and evidence of j^our 
 reason. I confess this looks like setting up one preju- 
 dice to overthrow another ; but where prejudices can- 
 iiot be fairly removed by the dint of reason, the wisest 
 
OF THE MIND. 257 
 
 and the best of teachers will sometimes find it necessa- 
 ry to make a way for. reason and truth to take place^ 
 by this contrast of prejudices. 
 
 11. Remark. When our design is to convince a 
 whole family or community of persons of any mistake, 
 and to lead them into any truth, we may justly suppose 
 there are various reigning prejudices among them ; and 
 therefore it is not so safe to attem])t, nor so easy to 
 effect it, by addressing the whole number at once. 
 Such a method has been often found to raiije a sud- 
 den alarm and has produced a violent opposition even 
 to the most fair, pious, and useful proposal ; so t'lat he 
 who made the motion could never carry his point. 
 
 We must therefore first make as sure as we can of 
 the most intelligent and learned, at least the most 
 leading persons amongst them, by addressing them 
 apart prudently, and offering proper reasons, till they 
 are convinced and engaged on the side of truth ; and 
 these may with more success apply themselves to 
 others of the same community : yet the original pro- 
 poser should not neglect to make a distinct application 
 to all the rest, so far as circumstances admit. 
 
 Where a thing is to be determined by a numbee of 
 votes, he should labour to secure a good majority ; and 
 then take care that the most proper persons should 
 move and argue the matter in public, lest it be quash- 
 ed in the very first proposal by some prejudice against 
 the proposer. 
 
 So unhap{>ily are our circumstances situated in this 
 world, that if truth, and justice, and goodness, could 
 put on human forms, and descend from heaven to pro- 
 pose the most divine and useful doctrines, and bringvvilh 
 them the clearest evidence, and publish them at once 
 to a multitude whose prejudices are engaged against 
 them, the proposal would be vain and fruitless, and 
 neither convince nor persuade ; so necessary is it to join 
 art and dexterity together with the force of reason, to 
 convince mankind of truth, unless we came furnished 
 with miracles or omnipotence to create a conviction.^" 
 
 * The conduct of Christ and his Apostles, armed as thpy v.-p.re with 
 supernatural powers, in the ertiduHl open'nsrs of truths, al'ainst whicli 
 the minds of their disciples were stroni^ly pVejudiced, may ncit only se- 
 cure such an address from the imputation of dishonest craft, lut may 
 deriionstrate the expediency, and in some cases of the necessity of at- 
 tending to it " 
 
£38 IMPROVEMJLNT 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of Authoriiy. Of the Abuse of it ; and of its real and 
 proper Use and Service. 
 
 X HE influence which other persons have upon our 
 opinions is usually called authority. The power of it 
 is so great and widely extensive, that there is scarce 
 any person in the woild entirely free from the impres- 
 sions of jt, even after their utmost watchfulness and 
 care to avoid it. Our parents and tutors, yea, our 
 very nurses, determine a multitude of our sentiments ; 
 our friends, our neighbours, the custom of the country 
 w'hei-e we dwell, and the established opinions of man- 
 kiiMl, form our belief; the great, the wise, the pious, the 
 learned, and the ancient, the king, the priest, and the 
 philosopher, are characters of mighty efficacy to per- 
 suade us to receive what they dictate. These may be 
 ranked under different heads of prejudice ; but they 
 an; all of a kindred nature, and may be reduced to this 
 one spring or head of authority. 
 
 h have treated of these particularly in Logic, Part H. 
 Chapter HI. Section 4 ; j'^et a few other remarks oc- 
 curring among my papers, I thought it not improper to 
 let them find a place here. 
 
 Cicero was well acquainted with the unhaj^py influ- 
 ences of authority, and complains of it in his first book 
 De J\aiurd Deorum: "In disputes and controversies 
 (says he) it is not so much the author or patrons of ant* 
 opinion, as the weight and force of argument, which 
 would influence the mind. The authority of those 
 w ho teach is a frequent hindrance to those who learn, 
 hecau::;e they utterly neglect to exercise their own 
 judgment, taking for granted whatsoever others whom 
 they reverence have judged for them. I can by no 
 means approve what we learn from the Pythagoreans, 
 that if any thing; asserted in disputation was questioned 
 they were wont to answer. Ipse dixit, that is, He him- 
 self said so, meaning Pythagoras. So far did pre- 
 judice prevail, that authority without reason was 
 sufficient to determine disputes and to establish truth." 
 
 All human authority, though it be ever so ancient, 
 though it hatli had universal sovereignty, and swayed 
 
OF THE MJND. 239 
 
 ajl the learned and the vulgar world for some thousands 
 of years, yet has no certain and undoubted claim to 
 truth ; nor is it any violaiion of good manners to enter 
 a caveat with due decency against its pretended 
 dominion. What is there among all the sciences, 
 that has been longer established, and more universally- 
 received, ever since the days of Aristotle, and perhaps 
 for ages before he lived, than this, that all heavy bodies 
 7vhatsoever tend toward the centrjt of the earth ! 'But Sir 
 Isaac NewtQn has found, that those bulky and weighty 
 bodies, the earth and all the planets, tend toward the 
 centre of the sun, whereby the authority of near three 
 thousand years or more is not only called in question, 
 but actually refuted and renounced. 
 
 Again : Was ever any thing more universally agreed 
 among the nation of the poets and critics, than that 
 Homer and Virgil are inimitable writers of heroic 
 poems ? and whoever presumed to attack their writ- 
 ings, or their reputation, was either condemned for his 
 malice, or derided for his folly. These ancient authors 
 have been supposed to derive peculiar advantages to 
 aggrandize their verses from the heathen theology, and 
 that variety of appearances in which they could repre- 
 sent their gods, and mingle them with the affairs of 
 men. Yet within these few years. Sir Richard Black- 
 more (whose prefaces are universally esteemed superior 
 in their kind to any of his poems) has ventured to pro- 
 nounce some noble truths in that excellent preface to 
 his poem called Alfred, and has bravely demonstrated 
 there, beyond all possible exception, that both Virgil 
 'and Homer are often guilty of very gross blunders, in- 
 decencies, and shameful improprieties ; and that they 
 were so far from deriving any advantage from the rab- 
 ble of heathen gods, that their theology almost una- 
 voidably exposed them to many of those blunders ; 
 and that it is not possible upon the foot of gentile su- 
 perstition to write a perfect epic poem: whereas the 
 sacred religion of the Bible would furnish a poem with 
 much more just and glorious scenes, and a nobler ma- 
 chinery. 
 
 Mr. Dennis also had made it appear in his essays 
 some years before, that there were no images so sub- 
 lime in the brightest of the heathen writers, as those 
 with which we are furnished in the poetic parts of the 
 
240 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 holj'^ scripture ; and Rajiin, the French critic, dared t« 
 proft'ss the same sentiments, notwithstanding the 
 world of poets and critics had so universally and unan- 
 imously exalted the heathen writers to the sovereignty 
 for so many ages. If we would find out the truth in 
 many cases, we must dare to deviate from the long- 
 heaten track, and venture to think with a just and un- 
 biassed liberty. 
 
 Though it be necessary to guard against the evil in- 
 fluences of authority, and the prejudices derived 
 thence, because it has introduced thousands of errors 
 and mischiefs into the world, yet there are three emi- 
 nent and remarkable cases wherein authority, or the 
 sentiments of other persons, must or will determine the 
 judgments and practice of mankind. 
 
 1. Parents are appointed to judge for their children 
 in their younger years, and to instruct them what they 
 should believe, and what they should practise in the 
 civil and religious life. This is a dictate of nature, and 
 doubtless it would have been so in a state of inno- 
 cence. It is impossible that children should be capa- 
 ble of judging for themselves before their minds are 
 furnished with a competent number of ideas, before 
 they are acquainted with any principles and rules of 
 just judgment, and before their reason is grown up to 
 any degrees of maturity, and proper exercises upon 
 such subjects. 
 
 I will riot say that a child ought to believe nonsense 
 and impossibility because his father bids him ; for so 
 far as the impossibility appears, he cannot believe it : 
 nor will I say he ought to assent to all the false opinions 
 of his parents, or to practise idolatry and murder, or 
 miscbief, at their command ; yet a child knows not 
 any better way to find out what he should believe, and 
 wbat he should practise, before he can possibly jud^e 
 for himself, than to run to his parents and receive their 
 sentiments and their directions. 
 
 You will say this is hard indeed, that the child of a 
 heathen idolator, or a cruel cannibal, is laid under a 
 sort of necessity by nature of sinning against the light 
 of nature ; 1 grant it is hard indeed, but it is only 
 owing to our original fall and apostacy ; the law of 
 nature continues as it was in innocence, namely, That 
 a parent should judge for his child ; but if the parent 
 
OF THE MIND. 241 
 
 jtidges ill, the child is greatly exposed hy it, through 
 that universal disorder that is brought into the >vorid 
 by the sin of Adam our common father ; and from the 
 equity and goodness of God, we mav reasonably infer, 
 that the great Judge of all will do right : be will balance 
 the ignorance and incapacity of the child with the 
 crimibal nature of the offence in those puerile instances, 
 and will not punish beyond just d^nneiit. 
 
 Besides, what could God, as a Creator, do better for 
 children in their minority, than to commit them to the 
 care and instruction of parents? None are supposed to 
 be so much concerned for the happiness of children as 
 their parents are ; therefore it is the safest step to hap- 
 piness, according to the original law of creation, tc fol- 
 low their directions, their parents' reason acting for 
 them before they have reason of their own in proper 
 exercise ; nor indeed is there any better general rule 
 in our fallen state by which children are capable of 
 being governed, though in many particular cases it 
 may lead them far astray from virtue and happiness. 
 
 If children by Providence be cast under some hap- 
 pier instructions, contrary to their parents' erroneous 
 opinions, 1 cannot say it is the duty of such children 
 to follow «rror when they discern it to be error, be- 
 cause their father believes it ; what I said before is to 
 be interpreted only of those that are under the imme- 
 diate care and education of their parents, and not yet 
 arrived at years capable of exammation. I know not 
 how th«se can be freed from receiving the dictates of 
 parental authority in 'their youngest years, except by 
 immediate or divine inspiration. 
 
 It is hard to say at what exact time of life the child 
 is exempted from the sovereignty of parental dictates. 
 Perhaps it is much juster to suppose that this sovereignty 
 diminishes by degrees, as the child grows in under- 
 standing and capacity, and is more and more capable of 
 exerting his own intellectual powers, than to limit this 
 matter by rnonths and years. 
 
 When childhood and youth are so far expired that 
 the reasoning faculties are grown up to any just meas- 
 ure of maturity, it is certain that persons ought to begin 
 to inquire into the reasons of their own faith and prac- 
 tice in all the affairs of life and religion : but as reason 
 does not arrive at this power and self-sufficiency in any 
 
242 . IMPROVEMENT 
 
 single moment of time, so there is no single moment 
 ■when a child should at once cast off all its former beliefs 
 and practices ; but by degrees, and in slow succession, 
 he should examine them, as opportunity and advantage 
 may oiFer, and either confirm, or doubt of, or change 
 them, according to the leadings of conscience and rea- 
 son, with all its best advantages of information. 
 
 When WQ. are arrived at manly age, there is no per- 
 son on earth, no set or society of men whatsoever, 
 that have power and authority given them by God, the 
 creator and governor of the world, absolutely to dic- 
 tate to others their opinions or practices in the moral 
 and religious life. God has ^iven every man reason to 
 judge foi- himself, in higher or m lower degrees. Where 
 less is given, less will be required. But we are justly 
 chargeable with criminal slcth, and misimprovement 
 of the talei«its with w-hich our Creator has entrusted us, 
 if w^e take all things for granted, which others assert, 
 and believe and practise all things which they dictate, 
 without due examination. 
 
 11. Another case wherein authority must govern our 
 assent, is in mnny matters of fact. Here we may and 
 ought to he determined by the declarations or narra- 
 tives of other men ; though I must confess this is usual- 
 ly c;'Hed testimony rather than authority. It is upon 
 this foot, that every son or daughter among mankind 
 are required to believe that such and such persons are 
 their parents, for they can never be informed of it, but 
 by the dictates of others. It is by testimony, that we 
 are to believe the laws of our country, and to pay all 
 proper deference to the prince, and to magistrates in 
 subordinate degrees of authority, though we did not 
 actually see them chosen, crowned, or invested with 
 their title and character. It is by testimony that we 
 are necessitated to believe there is such a city as Can- 
 terbury, or York, though perhaps we have never been 
 at either ; that there are such persons as Papists at 
 Pari<» :ind Rome, and that there are many sottish and 
 cruel tenets in their religion. It is by testnnony we be- 
 lieve that Christianity and the books of the bible have 
 been faithfully delivered down to us through many 
 generations ; that there was such a person as Christ 
 our Saviour, that he wrought miracles, and died on the 
 ccoss, that he ro«e again and ascended to heavers. 
 
OF THE MIND. 243 
 
 The authoritv or testimony of men, if they are wise 
 and honest, if they ha.d full opportunities and capacities 
 of knowing the truth, and are free from all suspicion of 
 deceit in relating it, ought to sway our assent ; especial- 
 ly when multitudes concur in the same testimony, and 
 when there are many other attending circumstances 
 that raise the proposition which they dictate to the 
 degree of moral certainty. 
 
 But in this very case, even in matters of fact, and 
 affairs of history, we should not too easily give in to all 
 the dictates of tradition, and the pompous pretences 
 to the testimony of men, till we have, fairly examined 
 the several things which are necessary to make up a 
 credible testimony, and to lay a just foundation for our 
 belief. There are and have 'been, so many falsehoods 
 imposed upon mankind, with specious pretences of eye 
 and ear witnesses, that should make us wisely cautious 
 and justly suspicious of reports, where the concurrent 
 signs of truth do not fairly appear, and especially where 
 the matter is of considerable importance. And the 
 less probable the fact testified is m itself, the greater 
 evidence may we justly demand of the veracity of that 
 testimony on which it claims to be admitted. 
 
 HI. The last case wherein authority must govern 
 us is, when we are called to believe what persons under 
 inspiration have dictated to us. This is not pripj.riy 
 the authority of men, but of God himself; and we 
 are obliged to believe what that authority asserts, 
 though our reason at present may not be able any other 
 way, to discover the certainty or evidence of the prop- 
 osition ; it is enough if our faculty of reason, in its best 
 exercise, can discover the divine authority whicri has 
 proposed it. Where doctrines of divine revelation ;ire 
 plainly published, together with sufficient proofs of 
 their revelation, all mankind are bound to receive them, 
 though they cannot perfectly understand them ; for we 
 know that God is true, and cannot dictate falsehood. 
 
 But if these pretended dictates are directly contrary 
 to the natund faculties of understanding and reason, 
 which^God has given us, we may be well assured these 
 dictates were never revealed to us by God himself. 
 When persons are really influenced by authority to 
 believe pretended mjsteritss, in plain opposition to 
 
244 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 reason, and j^et pretend reason for what they believer 
 this is but a vain amusement. 
 
 There is no reason whatsoever, that can prove or es- 
 tablish any authority so firmly, as to give it power to 
 dictate in matters of belief, wliat is contrary to all the 
 dictates of our reasonable nature. God himself has 
 never ^iven us any such revelations ; and 1 think it may 
 be said, with reverence, he neither can nor will do it, 
 unless n»i chanj^e our faculties from what they are at 
 pres^^nt. To tell us we must believe a proposition 
 which i« plainly contrary to reason, is to tell us that we 
 must believe two ideas are joined, while, (if we attend 
 to reason) we plainly see and know them to be dis- 
 joined. 
 
 What could ever have established the nonsense of 
 tra:isubstantiation in the world, if men had been fixed 
 i:. litis great truth, that Gud gives no revelation con- 
 tr dictory to our own reason? Things may be above 
 our reason, that is, reason may have but obscure ideas 
 of them, or reason may not see the connexion of these 
 ideas, or may not know at present the certain and ex- 
 gict manner of reconciling such propositions either with 
 one another, or with other rational truths, as I have 
 explained in some of my logical papers : but when 
 tlv :y stand directly and plainly against all sense and. 
 reason, as transubstantiation does, no divine authority 
 can ba pretended to enforce their belief, and human 
 authority is impudent to pretend to it. Yet this human 
 authority, in the Popish countries, has prevailed over 
 miliio:is of souls, because they have abandoned their 
 reasoi) they have given up the glory of human nature 
 to be tiampled upon by knaves, and so reduced them- 
 selves to the condition of brutes. 
 
 It is by this amusement of authority (says a certain 
 author) that the horse is taught to obey the words of 
 command, a dog to fetch and carry, and a man to be- 
 lieve inconsistencies and impossibilities. Whips and 
 dungeons, fire and the gibbet, and the solemn ter- 
 rors of eternal misery after this life, will persuade 
 weak minds to believe against their senses, and in direct 
 contradiction to all their reasoning powers. A pan-ot 
 is taught to tell lies with much more ease and more 
 gentle usage; bu^t none of all these creatures would 
 
OF THE MIND. S45 
 
 5erve their masters at the oxpence oftlielr liberty, had 
 tiiey but knowledge, and the just use of reason. 
 
 1 have mentioned three cases, wherein mankind must 
 or will be determined in their sentiments by autiiority : 
 that is, the case of children in their minoritj^, in regard 
 .to the command?^ ol their parents ; the case of all men 
 with regard to universal, complete and sufficient testi- 
 mony, of matter of fact ; and the case of every person, 
 •with rej^ard to the authority of divine revelation, and of 
 men divinely inspired ; and under each of these 1 have 
 given such limitations and cautions as Tvere necessary. 
 
 I proceed now to mention some other casss, where- 
 in we ought to pay a great deference to the authority 
 and sentiments of others, though we are not absolutely 
 concluded and determined by their opinions. 
 
 1. When we begin to pass out of our minority, and 
 to judge for ourselves in iwatters of the civil and reli- 
 gious iife, .we ought to pay very great deference to the 
 sentiments of our parents, who in the time of our mi- 
 nority were our natural guides and directors in these 
 matters. So in matters of science, an ignorant and un- 
 experienced youth should pay great deference to the 
 opinions of his instructers ; and though he may justly 
 suspend his judgment in matters which his tutors dic- 
 tate, till he perceive sufficient evidence for them ; yet 
 neither parents nor tutors should be directly opposed 
 without great and most evident reasons, such as con- 
 strain the understanding or conscience of those con- 
 cerned. 
 
 2. Persons of years and long experience of iiuman 
 affairs, when they give advice in matters of prudence 
 or civil conduct, ought to have a considerable deference 
 paid to their authority by those that are young and 
 have not seen the world, for it is most probable that the 
 elder people are in the right. 
 
 S. In the affairs of practical godliness, there should 
 be much deference given to persons of long standing in 
 virtue and piety. I confess in the particular forms and 
 ceremonies of religion, there may be as much bigotry 
 and superstition amongst the old as the young ; but in 
 questions of inw^ard religion and pure devotion,or virtue, 
 a man who has been long engaged in the sincere prac- 
 tice of those things, is justly presumed to know more 
 X 2 
 
24ft IIMPllOVEMENT 
 
 than a youth with all his ungoverned passions, appetites, 
 and prejudices ahout him. 
 
 4. Men in their several professions and arts, in 
 >vhich they have been educated, and in which they have 
 employed themselves all their days, must L.e supposed 
 t'» have greater knowledge and skill than others, and 
 therefore there is due respect to be paid to their judg- 
 ment in those matters. 
 
 5. In matters of fact, where there is not sufficient 
 testimony to constrain our assent, yet there ought to be 
 due deference paid to the narratives of persons wise and 
 sober, according to the degrees of their honesty, skill, 
 and opportunity to acquaint themselves therewith. 
 
 I confess, in many of these cases, where the proposi- 
 tion is a mere matter of speculation, and doth not ne- 
 cessarily draw practice along with it, we may delay 
 our assent till better evidence appear ; but where the 
 matter is of a practical nature, and requires us to act 
 one way or another, we ought to pay much deference 
 to authority or testimony, and follow such probabilities 
 where we have no certainty ; for this is the best light 
 we have ; and surely it is better to follow such sort of 
 guidance, where we can have no better, than to wander 
 and fluctuate in absolute uncertainty. It is not reason- 
 able to. put out our candle and sit still in the dark, be- 
 cause we have not the light of sun beams. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Of Treating and Managing the Prejudices of Men* 
 
 If we had nothing but the reason of men to deal with, 
 and that reason were pure and uncorrupted, it would 
 then be a matter of no great skill or labour to convince 
 another person of common mistakes, or to persuade 
 him to assent to plain and obvious truths. But, alas ! 
 mankind stand wrapped round in errors, and intrenched 
 in prejudices ; and every one of their opinions is sup- 
 ported and guarded by something else beside reason, 
 A young bright genius, who has furnished himself with 
 a variety of truths and strong arguments, but is yet un- 
 
 * For the nature and rauses of prpjudices. and for the preventing or 
 curing them iu ouisehes, see the Doctor's System of Lugin, Part II. 
 Cbap, III. Qi the springs of faJse judgment, or the doctrine of prejudice?'. 
 
OF THE MIND. 247 
 
 •acquainted with the world, goes forth from the schools 
 like a knight-errant, presuming hravely to vanquish the 
 follies of men, and to scatter light and truth through 
 ali his acquaintance. But he meets with huge giants and 
 ch;mfed castlesi, strong prepossessions of mind, habits, 
 customs, educations, aijthority, interest, together with 
 all the various passions of men, armed and obstinate to 
 defend their old opinions ; and he is strangely disap- 
 pointed in his generous attempts. He finds now that 
 he must not trust merely to the sharpness of his steef, 
 and to the strength of his arm, but he must manage 
 the weapons of his reason with much dexterity and 
 artifice, with skill and address, or he shall never be able 
 to subdue errors, and to convince mankind. 
 
 Where prejudices are strong, there are these several 
 methods to be practised, in order to convince persons 
 of their mistakes, and make a way for truth to enter 
 into their minds. 
 
 I. By avoiding the power and influence of the preju- 
 dice, without any direct attack upon it: and this is 
 done, by choosing all the slow, softened distant meth- 
 ods of proposing your own sentiments, and your argu- 
 ments for them, and by degrees leading the person step 
 by step into those truths which his prejudices would 
 not bear if they were proposed all at once. 
 
 Perhaps your neighbour is under the influence of 
 superstition and bigotry, in the simplicity of his soul ; 
 you must not immediately run upon him with violence, 
 and show him the absurdity or folly of his own opinions, 
 though you might be able to set them in a glaring light ! 
 but you must rather begin at a distance, and establish 
 his assent to some familiar and easy propositions, which 
 have a tendency to refute his mistakes, and to confirm 
 the truth, and then silently obsf-rve what impression 
 this mak<^s upon him, and proceed by slow degrees as 
 he is able to bear; and you must carry on the work, 
 perhaps at distant seasons of conversation. The ten- 
 der or diseased eye cannot bear a deluge of light at 
 once. 
 
 Therefore we are not to consider our arguments 
 merely according to our own notions of then- force, 
 and from thence expect the immediate conviction of 
 others ; but we should regard how they are likely to 
 be received by the persons we converse with ; and \ht^ 
 
248 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 manage our reasoning as the nurse j^ives a child drink 
 by slow degrees, lest the infant should be ehoaked and 
 return it all back again, if poured in too hastily. If 
 your wine be ever so good, and you are ever so fiber;; * 
 in bestowing it on your neighbour, yet if his bottle, 
 into which you attempt to pour it with freedom, has a 
 narrow mouth, you will sooner overset the bottle than 
 fill it with wine. 
 
 Overhastiness and vehemence in arguing is oftentnnrs 
 the effect of pride ; it blunts the poignancy of the ar- 
 gument, breaks its force, and disappoints the pnd. If 
 you were to convince a person of the falsehood of the 
 doctrine of transubstantiation, and you take up the 
 consecrated bread before him and say, " You may see, 
 and taste, and feel, this is nothing but bread, therefore 
 •whilst you assert that God commands you to believe 
 it is not bread, you must wickedly accuse God of com- 
 manding you to tell a lie." 'This sort of language 
 would only raise the indignation of the person against 
 you, instead of making any impressions upon him. He 
 "will not so much as think at all on the argument you 
 have brought, but he rages at you as a profane wretch, 
 setting up your own sense and reason above sacred 
 authority ; so that though what you affirm is a truth of 
 great evidence, yet you lose the benefit of your whole 
 argument by an ill mana^ment, and the unseasonable 
 use of it. 
 
 II. We may expressly allow and indulge those pro- 
 ^Tudices for a season, which seem to stand against the 
 truth, and endeavour to introduce the truth by degrees, 
 ■while those prejudices are expressly allowed, till by de- 
 grees the advancing truth may of itself wear out the 
 prejudice. Thus God himself dealt with his own ppo- 
 ple the Jews after the resurrection of Christ ; for 
 though from the following days of Pentecost, when 
 the gospel wasproclaimed and confirmed at Jerusalem, 
 the Jewish ceremonies began to be void and ineffectu- 
 al for any divine purpose, yet the Jews who received 
 Christ the Messiah, were permitted to circumcise their 
 children, and to practise many Levitical forms, till that 
 constitution which then waxed old should in time van- 
 ish away. 
 
 Where the preiudices of mankind cannot be conquer- 
 ed'at once, but they will rise up in arms against the 
 
OF THE MIND. 249 
 
 evidence of truth, we must make some allowances, and 
 "V'ield to them for the present, as far as we can safely do 
 it without real injury to truth ; and if we would have any 
 success in our endeavours to convince the world, we 
 must practise this complaisance for the benefit of man- 
 kind. 
 
 Take a student Avho has deeply imbibed the princi- 
 ples of the peripatetics, and imagines certain immaterial 
 Dcrngs, called substantial forms, to inhabit every herb, 
 flower, mineral, metal, fire, water, fcc. and to be the 
 sprin;^ of all its properties and operations ; or take a 
 Flytonist who believes an ardma mundi, an universal 
 soul of the world to pervade all bodies, to act in and 
 by them according to their nature, and indeed to give 
 them their nature and their special powers ; perhaps it 
 may be very hard to convince these persons by argu- 
 ments, and constrain them to yield up these fancies. 
 Well then let the one believe his universal soul, and the 
 other go on with his notion of substantial forms, and at 
 the same time teach them how, by certain original 
 laws of motion, and the various sizes, shapes and situ- 
 ations of the parts of matter, allowing a continued divine 
 concourse in and with all, the several appearances ia 
 nature may be solved, and the variety of effects pro- 
 duced, according to the corpuscular philosophy, im- 
 proved by Descartes, Mr. Boyle, and Sir Isaac New- 
 ton ; and when thejr have attained a degree of skill in 
 this science, they will see these airy notions of theirs, 
 these imaginary powers to be so useless and unnecessa- 
 ry, that they will drop them of their own accord ; the 
 peripatetic forms will vanish from the mind like a 
 dream, and the Platonic soul of the world will expire. 
 
 Or suppose a young philosopher under a powerful 
 persuasion, that there is nothing but what has three 
 dimensions, length, breadth, and thickness, and conse- 
 quently that every finite being has a figure or shape 
 (for shape is but the terra and boundary of dimension :) 
 suppose this person through the long prejudiceB of 
 sense and imagination, cannot be easily brough: to 
 Cfjnceive of a spirit or a thinking being without Btiupe 
 and dimensions ; let him then continue to conceive a 
 spirit with dimensions ; but be sure in all his concep- 
 tions to retain the idea of cogitation, or a power of 
 thinking, and thus proceed to plilosophize upon th& 
 
t50 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 subject. Perhaps in a little time he will find, that 
 len^h, breadth, and shape, have no share in any ol ihc 
 actions of a spirit ; and that he can manifest all the pro- 
 perties and relations of such a being, with all its ope- 
 rations of sensation, volition, k.c. to be as well per- 
 formed without the use of this suppos^ shape, or 
 these dimensions; and that all these operations and 
 these attributes may be ascribed to a spirit, considered 
 merely as a power of thinking. And when he further 
 conceives that God, the infinite Spirit, is an almighty, 
 self-existing, thinking power, without shape and dimen- 
 sions of length, breadth, and depth, he may iben sup- 
 pose the human spirit may be an inferior self-subsist- 
 ing power of thought ; and he may be inclined to drop 
 the idea of dimension and figure by degrees, when he 
 sees and is convinced they do nothing towaids think- 
 ing, nor are they necessary to assist or explain the 
 operations or properties of a spirit. 
 
 I may give another instance of the same practice, 
 where there is a prejudicate fondness of particular 
 ivords and phrases. Suppose a man is educated in an 
 unhapny form of speech, whereby he explains some 
 great doctrine of the gospel, and by the means of this 
 phrase he has imbibed a very false idea of that doc- 
 trine, yet he is so bigotted to his form of words, that 
 he imagines if those words are omitted the doctrine is 
 lost. Now, if I cannot possibly persuade him to part 
 with his improper terms, I will indulge them a little, 
 and try to explain them in a scriptural sense, rather 
 than let him go on in his mistaken ideas. 
 
 Credonius believes that Christ descended into hell : 
 I think the word heU, as now commonly understood, is 
 very improper here ; but since the bulk of Christians, 
 and Credonins among them, will by no means part 
 with the word out of their English creed, 1 will explain 
 the %vord hell to signify the state of the dead, or the 
 separate state of souls ; and thus lead my friend 
 into more just ideas of the truth, namely, that the soul 
 of Christ existed three days in the state of separation 
 from his body, or was in the invisible world, wi)ich 
 might originally be called hell in English as well as 
 hades in Greek. 
 
 Anilla has been bred a Papist all her days, and though 
 she does BOt know much of religion, yet siie resolves 
 
OF THE MIND. 251 
 
 never to part from the Roman Catholic faith, and is 
 obstinately bent against a change. Now I cannot 
 think it unlawful to teach her the true Christian, that is, 
 the Protestant religion, out of the epistle to the Ro- 
 mans, and show her that the same doctrine is con- 
 tained in the Catholic Epistles of St. Peter, James, 
 and Jude: and thus let her live and die a good Chris- 
 tian, in the belief of the religion I teach her out of the 
 IVew Testament, while she imagines she is a Roman 
 Catholic still, because she finds the doctrine she is 
 taught in the Catholic Epistles, and in that to tlie Ro- 
 mans. 
 
 1 grant it is most proper there should he different 
 words (as far as possible) applied to different ideas ; and 
 this rule should never be dispensed with, if we had to 
 do only with the reason of mankind ; but their various 
 prejudices and zeal for some party-phrases sometimes 
 make it necessary that we should lead them into truth 
 under the covert of their own beloved forms of speech, 
 rather than permit them to live and die obstinate and 
 unconvincible in any dangerous mistake : whereas an 
 attempt to deprive them of their old established words, 
 would raise such a tumult within them, as to render 
 their conviction hopeless. 
 
 III. Sometimes we may make use of the very pre- 
 judices under which a person labours, in order to 
 convince him of some particular truth, and argue with 
 him upon his own professed principles as though 
 they were true. This is called argumentum ad homi- 
 nem, and is another way of dealing with the prejudices 
 of men. 
 
 Suppose a Jew lies sick of a fever, and is forbidden 
 flesh by his physician ; but hearing that rabbits were 
 provided for the dinner of the family, desired earnestly 
 to eat of them ; and suppose he became impatient 
 because his physician did not permit him, and he in- 
 sisted upon it, that it could do him no hurt ; surely 
 rather than let him persist in that fancy and that desire, 
 to the danger of his life, I would tell him that these 
 animals were strangled, which sort of food was for- 
 bidden by the Jewish law, though 1 myself may believe 
 that law is now abolished. 
 
 In the same manner was Tenerilla persuaded to let Da- 
 mon, her husband, prosecute a thiefi' who broke op^ 
 
25£ IMPROVEMENT 
 
 their house on Sund.iy. At first she ahliorrcd tht 
 thoughts of it, :.ad refused it utterly, because, if the 
 thief were condemned, accordinj* to tlio English law, 
 he must be hanged; where (said she) the law of God 
 in the writiii3;s of Moses does not appoint death to he 
 the punishment of such criminals, nut tells us tliat a 
 thief shall be sold for his theft, Exod. xxii. i5. But 
 when Damon could no otherwise convince her that 
 the thief ought to be prosecuted, he put her in mind 
 that the theft was committed on a Sunday mor- 
 ninrr ; now the same law of Moses requires ihat the 
 Sahi) ith-breaker shall surely be put to death, Exod. 
 xx\i. 15. Numb. xv. 35. This argument prevailed 
 with Teuerilla, and she consented to the prosecution. 
 
 Encrates used the same means of conviction when 
 he saw a Mahometan drink wine to excess, and heard 
 him maintain the lawfulness and pleasure of drunken- 
 ness: Encrates reminded him, that his own prophet Ma- 
 homet had uttei ly forbidden all wine to his followers ; 
 and the good man restrained his vicious appetite; bj-- 
 his superstition, when he could no otherwise convince 
 him that drunkenness was unlawful, nor withhold him 
 from excess. 
 
 Where we find any person obstinately persisting in a 
 mistake in opposition to all reason, especially if the mis- 
 take be very injurious or pernicious, and we know this 
 person wiH hearken to the sentiment or autlioriiy 
 of som favourite name, it is needful sometimes to urge 
 the opinion and .authority of that favourite person, 
 since that is likely to be regarded much more than 
 reason. I confess I am almost ashamed to speak 
 of using any influence of authority, while I would 
 teach the ;irt of reasoning. But in some cases it is 
 better that poor, silly, perverse, obstinate creatures, 
 should be persuaded to judge and act right by a 
 veneration for the sense of others, than to be left 
 to waivier in pernicious errors, and continue deaf 
 to all argument, and blind to all evidence. They 
 are but cnildren of a larger size ; and since they per- 
 sist all their lives in their minority, and reject all true 
 reasoning, surely we may try to persuaiie them to 
 practise what is for tlieir owi interest by sucii childish 
 reasons as they will hearken to; we may overawe 
 them from pursuing their own ruin by the terrors of a 
 
OF THE MIND. 253 
 
 sokmn shadow, or allure them by a sugar-plum to 
 their own happiness. 
 
 But, after all, we must conclude, that wheresoever it 
 can be done it is best to remove and root out those 
 prejudices which obstruct the entrance of truth into 
 the mind, rather than to paliate, humour, or indulge 
 them ; and sometimes this must necessarily be done, 
 before you can make a person part with some beloved 
 error, and lead him into better sentiments. 
 
 Suppose you would convince a gamester that " Gam- 
 ing is not a lawful calling, or business of hfe, to main- 
 tain one's self by it," and you make use of this argu- 
 ment, namely, "that which doth not admit us to ask the 
 blessing of God, that we may get gain by it, cannot be 
 a lawful employment; but we cannot ask the blessing 
 of God on gaming," &:c. The minor is proved thus : 
 " We cannot pray that our neighbour may lose: this 
 is contrary to the rule of seekingour neighbour's welfare, 
 and loving him as ourselves : this is wishing mischief to 
 our neighbour. But in gaming we can gain but just so 
 much as our neighbour loses : therefore in gaming, we 
 cannot pray for the blessing of God that we may gain 
 by it." 
 
 Perhaps the gamester shrugs and winces, turns and 
 twists the argument every way, but he cannot fairly an- 
 swer it ; yet he will patch up an answer to satisfy him- 
 self, and will never 5aeld to the conviction, because he 
 feels so much of the sweet influence of gaming, either 
 towards the gratification of his avarice, or the support of 
 his expenses. Thus he is under a strong prejudice in 
 favour of it, and is not easily convinced. 
 
 Your first work therefore, must be to lead him by de- 
 grees to separate the thoughts of his own interest from 
 the argument, and show him that our own temporal 
 interests, our livelihood, or our loss, have nothing to 
 do to determine this point, in opposition to the plain 
 reason of things, and that he ought to put these 
 considerations t[uite out of the question, if he would 
 be honest and sincere in his search after truth or duty ; 
 and that he must be contented to hearken to the voice 
 of reason and truth, even though it should run counter 
 to his secular interest. When this is done, then an ar- 
 gument may carry some weight or force with it toward 
 his conviction. 
 
 Y 
 
v}54 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 In like manner, if the question were, Whether Ma- 
 (rissa ought to expose herself and her other children to 
 poverty and misery, in order to sujiport the extrava- 
 gancies of a favourite son? Perhaps the mother will 
 hear no argument against it ; she feels uo conviction in 
 the most cogent reasonings; so close do her fond pre- 
 judices stick to her heart. The first business here is to 
 remove this prejudice. Ask her therefore, Whether it 
 is not a parent s duty to love all her children, so as to 
 provide for their welfare? Whether duty to God and 
 her family ought not to regulate her love to a favourite ? 
 Whether her neighbour Fioris did well in dressing up 
 her daughters with expensive gaudery, and neglecting 
 the education of her son till she saw his ruin ? Perhaps 
 by this method she may be biought to see, thatfjarticu- 
 lar fondness for one child should have no weight or 
 force in determining the judgment in opposition to 
 plain duty; and she may then give herself up to con- 
 viction in her own case, and to the evidence of truth; 
 and thus correct her mistaken practice. 
 
 Suppose yoa would convert Rominda from popery, 
 and you set all the absurdities, errors, and superstitions 
 of that church before her in the most glaring evidence ; 
 she holds them fast stiil, and cannot part with them, for 
 she hath a most sacred reverence for the faith and the 
 church of her ancestors, and cannot imagine that they 
 were in the wrong. The first labour must be, therefore, 
 to convinceher that her ancestors were fallible creatures; 
 that we may part with their faith without any dishon- 
 our done to them ; that all persons must choose their 
 religion for themselves ; that we must answer for our- 
 selves in the great day of judgment, and not we for our 
 parents, nor they for us; that Christianity itself had 
 never been received by hor ancestors in this nation, 
 if they had persisted always in the religion of their 
 parents, for they were all heathens. And when she has 
 hy these methods of reasoning been persuaded, that 
 she is not bound always to cleave to the religion of her 
 parents, she may then receive an easier conviction of 
 the errors of Rome. 
 
 But, perhaps, of all these different methods of curing 
 prejudices, none can be practised with greater pleasure 
 to a wise and good man, or with greater success, where 
 
OF THE MIND. £5& 
 
 success is most desirable, tiian attempting to turn the 
 attention of well meaning people from some. point in 
 which prejudice prevails, to some other of greater im- 
 portance, and fixing their thoughts and heart on some 
 great truth which they allow, and which leads unto 
 consequences contrary to some other notion which 
 they espouse and retain. By this means they may be 
 led to forget their errors, while attentive to opposite 
 truth ; and in proportion to the degree in which their 
 minds open, and their tempers grow more generous 
 and virtuous, may be induced to resign it. And surely 
 nothing can give a benevolent mind more satisfaction, 
 than to improve his neighbour in knowledge and in 
 goodnes at the same time. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of Instruction by Preaching. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Wisdom better than Learning in the Pulpit. 
 
 X YRO is a young preacher, just come from the 
 schools of logic and divinity, and advanced to the pul- 
 pit ; he was counted a smart youngster in the academy 
 for analysing a proposition, and is full, even to the brim, 
 with the terras of his art and learning When he has 
 read his text, after a short flourish of introduction, he 
 tells you in how many senses the chief word is taken, 
 first among Greek heathen writers, and then in the New 
 Testament ; he cites all the chapters and verses exactly, 
 and endeavours to make you understand many a text, 
 before he lets you know fully what he means by his 
 own. He finds these things at large in the critics, which 
 he has consulted, where this sort of work is necessary 
 and beautiful, and therefore he imagines it will become 
 his sermon well. Then he informs you, very learnedly, 
 of the various false expositions which have been given by 
 divines and commentators ©n this part of the scripture, 
 
256 IMPROVEiMENT 
 
 and it may be the reasons of each of them too ; and he 
 refutes them with much zeal and contempt. Having 
 thus cleared his way, he fixes upon the exposition 
 which his judgment best approves, and dwells gener- 
 ally five or ten minutes upon the arguments to confirm 
 it ; and this he does not only in texts of darkness and 
 difficulty, but even when scarcely a child could doubt 
 of his meaning. 
 
 This gramm.itical exercise being performed, he ap- 
 plies himself to his logic ; the text is divided and sub- 
 divided into many little pieces ; he points you precisely 
 tt> the subject and predicate, brings you acquainted 
 tvith the agent and the object, shows you all the prop- 
 erties and the accidents tliat attend it, and would fam 
 make you understand the matter and the form of it, 
 as well as he does himself. When he has thus done, 
 two thirds of the hour is spent, and his hearers arc 
 quite tired ; then he begins to draw near to his doctrine, 
 or grand theme of discourse ; and having told the audi- 
 ence with great formality and exactness what it is, and 
 how he intends to manage it, he names yon one or two 
 |)articulars under the first general head ; and by this 
 time finds it necessary to add, " He intended indeed 
 to have been larger in the illustration of his subject, 
 and he should have given you some reasons for tne 
 doctiine, but he is sorry that he is prevented ; and 
 then he designed also to have brought it down to the 
 conscience of every man by a warm address, but his 
 time being gone, he must break off." He hurries over 
 a hint or two, which should have been wrought up into 
 exhortation or instruction, but all in great haste, and 
 thus concludes his work. The obstinate and the care- 
 less sinner goes away unawakened, unconvinced, and 
 the mourning soul departs uncomforted : The unbe- 
 liever is not led to faith in the gospel, nor the immoral 
 wretch to hate, or forsake his iijiquities ; the hypocrite 
 and the man of sincerity are both unedified, because 
 the preacher had not time. In short he hath finished 
 his work, and hath done nothing. 
 
 When I hear this man preach, it brings to my re- 
 membrance the account which I have heard con- 
 cerning the Czar of Muscovy, the first time that his 
 army besieged a town in Livonia : He was then just 
 
OF THE MIND. £57 
 
 come from his travels in Great Britain, wliere be and 
 his ministers of state had learned the mathematics of 
 an old acquaintance of mine : the Czar took great care 
 to begin the siege in form ; he drew all his lints of cir- 
 cumvallation and contravallation according to the rules 
 of art ; but he was so tedious and so exact in these 
 mathematical performances, that the season was spent, 
 he was forced to break up the siege, and retire without 
 any execution done upon the town. 
 
 Krgates is another sort of preacher, a workman that 
 need not be ashamed. He had in his younger days but 
 few of these learned vanities, and age and experience 
 have now worn them all off: He preaches like a man 
 who watches for our souls, as one that must give an 
 account ; he passes over lesser matters with speed, and 
 pursues his great design ; namely, to save himself, and 
 them that hear him, 1 Tim. iv.- 16. And by following 
 this advice of St. Paul, he happily complies with that 
 great and natural rule of Horace, always to make haste 
 towards the most valuable end : 
 
 Semftr ad eventumfestinat 
 
 He never affects to choose a very obscure text, lest 
 he should waste too much of the hour in explaining the 
 literal sense of it ; he reserves all those obscurities till 
 they come in course at his seasons of public exposition ; 
 for it is his opinion, that preaching the gospel for the 
 salvation of men, carries in it a little different idea from 
 a learned and critical exposition of the difficult texts of 
 scripture. 
 
 He knows well how to use his logic in his composi- 
 tions ; but he calls no part of the words by their logical 
 name, if there be any vulgar name that answers it ; rea- 
 ding and meditation have furnished him with extensive 
 views of his subject, and his own good sense hath taught 
 him to give sufficient reasons for every thing he asserts ; 
 but he never uses one of them till a proof be needfuK 
 He is acquainted with the mistaken flosses of expositors ; 
 but he thinks it needless to acquaint his hearers with 
 them, unless there be evident danger that they might 
 run into the same mistake. He understands well what 
 liis subject is not, as well as what it is : but when he 
 Y 2 
 
258 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 would explain it to you, he never says first, negatively, 
 unless some remarkable error beat hand, and which 
 his hearei-s may easily fall into ior want of such a cau- 
 tion. 
 
 Thus in five or ten minutes at the most, he makes 
 his way plain to the proposition or theme on which 
 he designs to discourse ; and being so wise as to know 
 well what to say and what to leave out, he proportions 
 every part of his work to his time ; he enlarges a little 
 upon the subject by way of illustration, till the truth be- 
 come evident and intelligible to the weakest of his hear- 
 ers ; then he confirms the point with a few convincing 
 arguments, where the matter requires it, and makes 
 haste to turn the doctrine into use and improvement. 
 Thus the ignorant are instructed, and the growing Chris- 
 tians are established and improved ; the stupid sinner is 
 loudly awakened, and the mourning soul receives conso- 
 lation ; the unbeliever is led to trust in Chi'ist and his 
 gospel, and the impenitent and immoral are convinced 
 and softened, are melted and reformed. The inward 
 voice of the Holy Spirit joins with the voice of the minis- 
 ter ; the good man and the hypocrite have their proper 
 portions assigned them, and the work of the Lora pros- 
 pers in his hand. 
 
 This is the usual course and manner of his ministry . — 
 This method being natural, plain, and easy, he casts 
 many of his discourses into this form ; but he is no slave 
 to forms and methods of any kind ; he makes the nature 
 of his subject and the necessity of his hearers, the great 
 rule to direct him what method he shall choose in eve- 
 ry sermon that he may the better enlighten, convince 
 and persuade. Ergates well knows, that where the sub- 
 ject itself is entirely practical, he has no need of the for- 
 mality of long uses and exhortations ; he knows that 
 Eractice is the chief design of doctrine ; therefore he 
 estows most of his labour upon this part of his office, 
 and intermingles much of the pathetic under evei-y par- 
 ticular ; yet he wisely observes the special dangers of 
 his flock, and the errors of the time he lives in ; and 
 now and then, though very seldom, he thinks it neces- 
 sary to spend almost a whole discourse in mere doctrinal 
 iutlcles. Upon such an occasion, he thinks it proper to 
 take up a little larger part of his hour in explaining and 
 
OF THE BUND. 25^ 
 
 confinning the sense of his text, and brings it down to 
 the understanding of a child. 
 
 At another time, perhaps, he particularly designs to 
 entertain the few learned and polite among his auditors ; 
 and that with this view, that he may ingratiate his dis- 
 courses with their ears, and may so far gratify their cu- 
 riosity in this part of his sermon, as to give an easier en- 
 trance for the more plain, necessary, and important 
 parts of it into their hearts. Then he aims at, and he 
 reaches the sublime, and furnishes out an entertainment 
 for the finest taste ; but he scarce ever finishes his ser- 
 mon without compassion to the unlearned, and an ad- 
 dress that may reach their consciences with words of 
 salvation. 
 
 I have observed him sometimes, after a learned dis- 
 course, come down from the pulpit as a man ashamed 
 and quite out of countenance ; he has blushed and com- 
 plained to his intimate friends, lest he should be thought to 
 have preached himself and not Christ Jesus his Lord: he 
 has been ready to wish he had entertained the audience 
 in a more unlearned manner, and on a more vulgar sub- 
 ject, lest the servants, and the labourers, and tradesmen 
 there, should reap no advantage to their souls, and the 
 important hour of worship should be lost as to their im~ 
 provement. Well he knows, and keeps it on his heart, 
 that the middle and lower ranks of mankind, and people 
 of an unlettered character, make up the greater part of 
 the assembly ; therefore he is ever seeking how to adapt 
 his thoughts and language, and far the greatest part of 
 all his ministrations, to the instruction and profit of per- 
 sons of common rank and capacity ; it is in the midst 
 of these that he hopes to fina his triumph, his joy and 
 crown in the last ?great day ; for not many wise, not 
 many noble are called. 
 
 There is so much spirit and beauty in his common 
 conversation, that it is sought and desired bj^ the inge-^ 
 nious men of his age ; but he carries a severe guard of 
 piety always about him, that tempers the pleasant air 
 of his discourse, even in his brightest and freest hours ; 
 and before he leaves the place (if possible) he will leave 
 something of the savour of heaven there; in the parlour 
 he carries oh the design of the pulpit, but in so elegant 
 a manner that it charms the company, and gives not the. 
 least occasion for censure. 
 
J>60 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 His polite acquaintance will sometimes rally him for 
 talking so plainly in his sermons, and sinking his good 
 sense to so low a level ; but Ergates is bold to tell the 
 gayest of them, " Our public business my friend, is 
 chiefly with the weak and ignorant ; that is, the bulk of 
 mankind ; the poor receive the gospel ; the mechanics and 
 day labourers, the women and children of my assembly, 
 have souls to be saved : I will imitate my blessed Re- 
 deemer in preaching the gospel to the poor ; and learn of 
 St. Paul to become all things to all men, that I may ivin 
 souls, and lead many sinners to heaven by repentencCj 
 faith, and holiness. 
 
 SECTION. II. 
 
 A Branching Sermo7i, 
 
 1 HAVE always thought it a mistake in a preacher to 
 mince his text or his subject too small by a great num- 
 ber of subdivisions, for it occasions great confusion of 
 the understandings of the unlearned. "Where a man 
 divides his matter into more general, less general, special, 
 and more particular heads, he is under a necessity some- 
 times of saying^ '5%, or secondly, two or three times 
 together, which the learned may observe ; but the great- 
 er part of the auditory, not knowing the analysis, can- 
 not so much as take it into their minds, and much less 
 treasure up in their memories in a just and regularorder; 
 and when such hearers are desired to give some account 
 of the sermon, they throw the thirdlys and secondlys 
 into heaps, and make very confused work in a rehearsal, 
 by intermingling the general and the special heads. In 
 writing a large discourse this is much more tolerable ;* 
 but in preaching it is less profitable, and more intricate 
 and offensive. 
 
 It is as vain an affectation also to draw out a long rank 
 of particulars in the same sermon under any one gene- 
 ral, and run up the number of them to eighteenthly, or 
 seven and twentietMy. Men that take delight in this sort 
 
 * Especially as words may be used to number the geLerals. and figures 
 of different kinds and forms, to marshal the primary and secondary ranlcs 
 of particulars under them. 
 
OF THE MIND. S6l 
 
 »f work, will cut out all their sense into shreds ; and ev- 
 ery tiling that they can say upon any topic shall make a 
 new particular. 
 
 This sort of folly and mistaken conduct appears 
 weekly in Polyramus's lectures, and renders all his 
 discourses lean and insipid. Whether it proceed from 
 a mere barrenness of thought, and a native dryness 
 of soul, that he is not able to vary his matter, and to 
 amplify beyond the formal topics of an analysis, or 
 whether it arises from affectation of such a way of talk^ 
 ing, is hard to say ; but it is certain that the chief part 
 of his auditory are not overmuch profited or pleased. 
 When I sit under his preaching, I fancy myself brought 
 into the valley of Ezekiel's vision : it was full of bones, 
 and behold there were very many in the valley, and 
 lo, they were very dry, Ezek. xxxvii. 1, £. 
 
 It isthe variety of enlargement upon a few proper 
 heads that clothes the dry bones Avith flesh, and ani- 
 mates them with blood and spirits ; it is this that co^ 
 lours the di'5course, makes it warm and strong, and 
 renders the divine propositions bright and persuasive ; 
 it is this brings down the doctrine or the duty to the 
 understanding or conscience of the whole auditory, 
 and commands the natural affections into the interest 
 of the gospel. In short, it is this that, under the influ- 
 ence of the Holy Spirit, gives life and force, beauty 
 and success to a sermon, and provides food for souls. 
 A single rose bush or a dwarf pear, with all their leaves, 
 flowers and fruit about them, have more beauty and spi- 
 rit in themselves, and yield more food and pleasure to 
 mankind, than the innumerable branches, boughs and 
 twigs of a lo.^g hedge of thorns. The fruit will feed the 
 hungry, and the flower will refresh the fainting; which 
 is more than can be said of the thickest oak in Bashan, 
 when it has lost its vital juice ; it may spread its limbs 
 indeed far and wide, but they are naked, withered, 
 and saplesf!. 
 
4U2 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 The Harangue. 
 
 As it not possible to forsake one extreme without run- 
 nine into !i worse? Is there no medium between a sermon 
 made up of sixty dry pailiculars, and a long loose de- 
 clamation witbout any distinction of tbe parts of it? 
 Must tbe preacber divide bis works by the breaks of a 
 minute watch, or let it run on incessantly lo tbe last 
 word, like tbe flowin;^ stream of tbe hour glass that 
 measures bis divinity ? Surely Fluvio preaches as 
 Ihougb he kr)ew no medium ; and baving taken a dis- 
 gust heretofore at one of Polyramus's lectures, be re- 
 solved his own discourses should bave no distinction 
 of particulars in tb« m. His language tlinvs smootbly 
 in a long conni'xion of periculs, ^md glides over tbe ear 
 like a rivulet of oil over polished marble, .md like tbat 
 too, leaves no trace behind it. Tbe attention is detain- 
 ed in a geuil.'. pU-asure, and (to say tbe best tiling 
 possible of it) tbi^ bearer is sootbed into sometbing like 
 divme di'ligbt ; but he can {^ive tbe inquiring friend 
 scarci'Iy any accoinit what it was tbat pleased him. 
 He retains a faint idea of the swcetn<^ss, but has for- 
 gotten tbe sense. 
 
 Tell me, Fluvic*, is this tbe most effectual way to 
 instruct ignorant creatures in tbe several articles of 
 faith, and the various duties of the christian life? AVill 
 such a long uniform flow of language imprint all the 
 distinct parts of Christian knowb dge on tbe mind, in 
 their best form and order? D(» you find such a g« ntle 
 and gliding stream of words most povserful to call up 
 the so«ds of sinners fr(nn their dangerous or fatal leth- 
 argy ? Will this indob'ut and moveless species of ora- 
 tory, make a thoughtless \>reteh attend to matters of 
 infinite m.»ment ? Can a long purjing sound a\v;tken a 
 sleepy conscience, and give a perishing s=inn*T just no- 
 tices of bis dreadful hazard? Can it furnish bis u»)der- 
 standing and iiis memory with all the awful and tre- 
 mendous topics of onr religion, when it scarce ever 
 leaves any distinct impression of one of th<m oi- his 
 90ul ? Can you make the arrow wound where it will 
 
OF THE MIND. j263 
 
 not stick ? Where all the discourse vanishes from our 
 remembrancf, can you suppose the soul to be profited 
 or enriched ? When you brush over the closed eyelids 
 with a feather, did you ever find it give light to the 
 blind ? Have any of your soft harangues, your continu- 
 ed threads of silken eloquence ever raised the dead? 
 I fear your whole aim is, to talk over the appointed 
 number of minutes upon the subject, or to practise a 
 little upon the gentler passions, without any concern 
 how to give the understanding its due improvement, 
 or to furnish the memory with any lasting treasure, or 
 to make a knowing and a religious Christian. 
 
 Ask old Wheatfield the rich farmer, ask Plowdown 
 your neighbour, or any of his family, who have sat all 
 their lives under your ministry, what they know of the 
 common truths of religion, or of the snecial articles of 
 Christianity ? Desire them to tell you what the gospel is, 
 or what is salvation ? What are their duties toward God, 
 or what they mean by religion ? Who is Jesus Christ, or 
 what is the meaning of his atonement, or redemption 
 by his blood? Perhaps you will tell me yourself, that you 
 have very seldom entertained them with these subjects. 
 Well, inquire of them what is heaven ? Which is the 
 way to obtain it, or what hope they have of dwelling 
 there ? Entreat them to tell you, wherein they have pro- 
 fited as to holiness of heart and life, or fitness for death. 
 They will soon make it appear by their awkward an- 
 swers, that they understood very little of all your fine 
 discourses, and those of your predecessors, and have 
 made but wretched improvement of forty years atten- 
 dance at church. They have now and then been pleased, 
 perhaps, with the music of your voice, as with the sound 
 of a sweet instrument, and they mistook that for devo- 
 tion ; but their heads are dark still, and their hearts 
 earthly ; they are mere heathens witli a Christian 
 name, and knowlittlemore of God than their yokes ol 
 oxen. In short, Polyramus's auditors have some con 
 fusion in their knowledge, but Fluvio's hearers have 
 scarce any knowledge at all. 
 
 But you will tell me your discourses are not all made 
 up of harangue ; your design is sometimes to inforni 
 the mind by a train of well connected reasonings, and 
 that all your paragraphs in their long order prove and 
 support each other ; and tliough you do not distinguish 
 
J64 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 your discourse into particulars, yet you have kept some 
 invisible method all the vray, and by some artificial . 
 gradations, you have brought down your sermon to the ] 
 concluding sentence. i 
 
 It may be so sometimes, and I will acknowledge it ; j 
 but believe me, Fluvio, this artificial and invisible meth- 
 od carries darkness with it instead of light ; nor is it by 
 any means a proper way to instruct the vulgar, that is, 
 the bulk of your auditory ; their souls are not capable 
 of so wide a stretch as to take in the whole chain of 
 your long connected consequences ; you talk reason 
 and religion to them in vain, if you do not make the 
 argument so short as to come within their grasp, and 
 give a frequent rest for their thoughts ; you must break 
 the bread of life into pieces to feed children w ith it, 
 and part your discourses into distinct propositions, to 
 give the ignorant a plain schame of any one doctrine, 
 and enable them to comprehend or retain it. 
 
 Everyday gives us experiments to confirm what 1 
 say, and to encourage ministers to divide their sermons 
 into several distinct heads of discourse, Myrtilla, a 
 little creature of nine years old, was at church twice 
 yesterday ; in the morning the preacher entertained 
 his audience with a running oration, and the child 
 could give her parents no other account of itj but that 
 he talked smoothly and sweetly about virtue and hea- 
 ven. It was Ergates's lot to fulfil the service of the 
 afternoon; he is an excellent preacher both for the 
 wise and unwise. In the Evening, Myrtilla very pret- 
 tily entertained her mother with a repetition of the 
 most considerable parts of the sermon ; for, " Here," 
 said she, " 1 can fix my thoughts upon first, secondly, 
 and thirdly, upon the doctrine, the reasons, and the 
 inferences ; and 1 know what I must try to remember, 
 and repeat it when my frtends shall ask me : but as 
 for the morning sermon, I could do nothing but hear it, 
 for I could not tell what 1 should get by heart." 
 
 This manner of talking in a loose harangue, has not 
 only injured our pulpits, but it makes the several es- 
 says and treatises that are written nowadays, less ca- 
 pable of improving the knowledge, or enriching the 
 memory of the reader. 
 
 I will easily grant, that where the whole discourse 
 reaches not beyond a few pages, there is no necessity 
 
OF THE MIND. tGb 
 
 of the formal proposal of the several parts, before you 
 handle each of them distinctly, nor is there need of 
 such a set method ; the unlearned and narrow under- 
 standing can take an easy view of the whole, without 
 the author's pointing to the several parts. But where 
 the essay Is prolonged to a greater extent, confusion 
 grows upon the reader almost at every page, without 
 some scheme or method of successive heads in the dis- 
 course, to direct the mind and aid the memory. 
 
 If it be answered here, that neither such treatises 
 nor sermons are a mere heap, for there is a just method 
 observed in the composure, and the subjects are ranged 
 in a proper order ; it is easy to reply, that this method 
 is so concealed, that a common hearer or reader can 
 never find it ; and you must suppose every one that 
 peruses such a book, and much more that attends 
 such a discourse, to have some good knowledge of the 
 art of logic, before he can distinguish the various parts 
 and branches, the connexions and transitions of it. 
 To an unlearned eye or ear, it appears a mere heap 
 of good things without any method, form or order; 
 and if you tell your young friends they should get it into 
 their heads and hearts, they know not how to set about 
 it. ^ 
 
 If weinquire, how it comesto |)ass that our modern in- 
 genious writers should affect this manner ; I know no 
 juster reason to give for it, than a humorous and wan- 
 toa contempt of the customs and practices of our fore- 
 fathers ; a sensible .disg;ust taken at some of their mis- 
 takes and ill conduct, at first tempted a vain generation 
 into the contrary extreme near sixty years ago ; and 
 now, even to this day, it continues too much in fashion, 
 so that the wise as well as the weak, are ashamed to 
 oppose it, and are borne down with the current. 
 
 Our fathers formed their sermons much upon the 
 model of ddcfrine, reason, and use ; and perhaps there 
 is no one method of more universal servrce, and more 
 easily applicable to most subjects, though it be not ne- 
 cessary or proper in every discourse ; but the very names 
 of doctrine and use are become nowadays such stale 
 and old-fashioned things, that a modish preacher is 
 quite ashamed of them ; nor can a modish hearer bear 
 the sound of those syllables ; a direct and distinct ad- 
 
-266 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 dress to the consciences of saints and sinners must not 
 be named or mentioned, tliough these terms are scrip- 
 tural, lest it should be hissed out of the church like the 
 garb of a round head or a puritan. 
 
 Some of our fathers have multiplied their particulars, 
 under one single head of discourse, and run up the tale 
 of them to sixteen or seventeen. Culpable indeed, and 
 too numerous ! But in opposition to this extreme, we 
 are almost ashamed in our age to say thirdly, and all 
 fourthlys and fifthlys are very unfashionable words. 
 
 Our fathers made too great account of the sciences 
 of logic and metaphysics, and the formalities of defini- 
 tion and division, syllogism and method, when they 
 brought them so often into the pulpit ; but we hold 
 those arts so much in contempt and defiance, that we 
 had rather talk a whole hour without order and without 
 edification, than be suspected of using logic or method 
 in our discourses. 
 
 Some of our fathers neglected politeness perhaps 
 too much, and indulged a coarseness of style, and a 
 rough or awkward pronunciation ; but we have such a 
 value for elegancy, and so nice a taste for what we call 
 polite, that we dare not s})oil the cadence of a period 
 to quote a text of scripture in it, nor disturb the harmo- 
 ny of our sentences, to number or to name tlie heads ot 
 our discourse. And for this reason, I have heard it 
 hinted, that the name of Christ has been banished out 
 of polite sermons, because it is a monosyllable of so 
 many consonants, and so harsh a sound. 
 
 But, after all, our fathers, with all their defects, and 
 with all their weaknesses, preached the gospel of Christ 
 to the sensible instruction of whole parishes, to the 
 conversion of sinners from the errors of their way, and 
 the salvation of multitudes of souls. But it has been 
 the late complaint of Dr. Edwards, and other worthy 
 sons of the established church, that in too many pulpits 
 nowadays there are only heard some smooth cfeclama- 
 tion, while the hearers that were ignorant of the gospel 
 abide still without knowledge, and the profane sinners 
 are profane still. O that divine grace woidd descend 
 and reform what is amiss in all the sanctuaries of the 
 nation !* 
 
 * It appear* by the date, at the bottom of this paper :a MMS. that it 
 was written in the year I7l8. The first, suid perhaps the second section 
 
OF THE MIND. 2&7 
 
 CHAP. VH. 
 
 Of Writing Books for the Public. 
 
 IN the explication and distinction of words and things 
 by definition and description, in the division of things 
 into their several parts, and in the distribution of things 
 into their several kinds, be sure to observe a just medi- 
 um. We must not always explain and distinguish, de- 
 fine, divide, and distribute, nor must we always omit it ; 
 sometimes it is useless and impertinent, sometimes it is 
 proper and^iecessary. There is confusion brought into 
 our argument and discourse by too many, or by too 
 few of these. One author plunges his reader into the 
 midst of things without due explication of them ; an- 
 other jumbles together without distinction all those 
 ideas which have any likeness ; a third is fond of ex- 
 plaining every word, and coining distinctions between 
 ideas which have little cr no diflference ; but each of 
 these runs into extremes ; for all t|iese practices are 
 equal hinderances to clear, just, and useful knowledge. 
 It is not a long train of rules, but observation and good 
 judgment, can teach us when to explain, define and 
 divide, and when to omit it. 
 
 In the beginning of a treatise it is proper and necessary 
 sometimes to premise some praecognita or general prin- 
 ciples, which may serve for an introduction to the sub- 
 ject in hand, and give light and strength to the following 
 discourse ; but it is ridiculous under a pretence of 
 such introductions or prefaces to wander to the most 
 remote or distant themes, which have no near or neces- 
 sary connexion with the thing in hand, this serves for 
 no other purpose but to make a gaudy show of learning. 
 Thelre was a jjrofessor of divinity, who began an ana- 
 lytical exposition of the Epistle to the Romans, with 
 such praecognita as these ; first he showed the excel- 
 lence of man above other creatures, who was ahle to 
 
 of it may seem now to be grown in a great measure out of date 5 but 
 whether the third is nolrat least as seasonable now as ever, may deserve 
 serious consideration. The author, since this was drawn np, hath de- 
 livered his sentiments more fully in the first part of that excellent piepe 
 entitled, An Humble Attempt for the Revival of Religion, &c- 
 
268 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 declare the sense of his mind, by arbitraiy signs ; then h6 
 harang;ued upon the origin of speech ; after that be 
 told of the wonderful invention of writing, and inqui- 
 red into the author of that art which taught us to paint 
 sounds : When he had given us the various opinions of 
 the learned on this point, and distributed w riting into 
 its several kinds, and laid down definitions of them all, 
 at last he came to speak of epistolary writing, and dis- 
 tinguished epistles into familiar, private, public, recom- 
 mendatory credentials, and what not ? Thence he 
 descended to speak of the superscription, subscription, 
 &c. and some lectures were finished before he came to 
 the first verse of St. Paul's epiftle ; the auditors being 
 half starved and tired with expectation, dropped away 
 one by one, so that the professor had scarce any hear- 
 ers to attend the college, or the lectures which he had 
 promised on that part of scripture. 
 
 The rules which Horace has given in his Art of Poe- 
 try, would instruct many a preacher and professor of 
 theology, if they would but attend to them. He informs 
 us that a wise author, such as Homer, w ho writes a 
 poem of the Trojan war, would not begin a long and 
 far distant story of Jupiter, in the form of a swan, im- 
 pregnating Leda with a double egg ; from one part 
 whereof Helen was hatched, who was married to 
 Menelaus a Greek general, and then stolen from him 
 by Paris, son of Priym, king of Troy, which awakened 
 tne resentment of the Greeks against the Trojans. 
 
 JVcc gemmo bellum Trojanum or ditur ab ovo. 
 
 But the writer, says he, makes all proper haste to the 
 event of things, and does not drag on slowly, perpetu- 
 ally turning aside from his point, and catching at every 
 incident to prolong his story, as though he wanted 
 matter to furnish out his tale. 
 
 Semper ad eventum festinat. 
 
 Though I must confess I cannot think that Homer 
 has always followed this rule in either of his tw o fa- 
 mous epic poems : But Horace does not hear what I 
 Slay. There is also another rule near akin to the former. 
 
OF THE MIND. <i>69 
 
 As a writer or speaker should not wander from his 
 subject, to fetch in foreign mattcrr from afar, so neither 
 should he amass together, and drag in all that can be 
 said, even on his appointed theme of discourse ; but he 
 should consider what is his chief design, what is the 
 end he hath in view, and then to make every part of his 
 discourse subserve that design. If he keeps his great 
 end always in his eye, he will pass hastily over those 
 parts or appendages' of his subject, which have no evi- 
 d'^nt connexion with his design, or he will entirely omit 
 them, and hasten continually towards his intended 
 mark ; employing his time, his study and labour chiefly, 
 on that part of his subject which is most necessary to 
 attain his present and proper end. 
 
 This might be illustrated by a multitude of examples ; 
 but an author who would hear them together on such 
 an occasion, might be in danger of becoming himself 
 an example of the impertinence he is cautioning others 
 to avoid. 
 
 After you have finished any discourse which you 
 design for the public, it would be always best, if other 
 circumstances would permit, to let it sleep sometime 
 before you expose it to the world, that so you may 
 have opportunity to review it with the indifference of a 
 stranger, and to make the whole of it pass under a new 
 and just examination ; for no man can judge so justly 
 of his own work, while the pleasure of his invention 
 and performance is fresh, and has engaged his self-love 
 too much on the side of what he has newly finished. 
 
 If .in author would send a discourse into the world, 
 which should be most universally approved, he should 
 consult persons of very different genius, sentiment and 
 party, and endeavour to learn their opinions of it. In 
 the world it will certainly meet with all these. Set it 
 therefore to view amongst several of your acquaintance 
 first, who may survey the argument on all sides, and 
 one may happen to suggest a correction whith is entirely 
 neglected by others ; and be sure to yield yourself to 
 the dictates of true criticism, and just censure, where- 
 soever you meet with them ; nor let a fondness for 
 what you have written, blind your eyes against the dis- 
 covery of your own mistakes. 
 Z 2 
 
^70 IMPR0VE3IENT 
 
 When an author desires a friend to revise his work, 
 it is too frequent a practice to disallow almost every 
 correction which a judicious friend shall make; he 
 apologizes for this word, and the other expression ; he 
 vindicates this sentence, and gives his reasons for another 
 paragraph, and scarcely ever submits to correction ; 
 and thus utterly discourages the freedom that a true 
 friend would take, in pointing out our mistakes. Such 
 writers who are so full of themselves, may go on to 
 tidmire their own incorrect performances, and expose 
 their works and their follies to the world without pity.* 
 
 Horace, in his Art of Poetry, talks admirably well on 
 this subject : 
 
 Quintilio si quid recilares, corrige, sodeSf 
 
 Hoc, aiebat, el hoc; melius te posse iiegares 
 
 Bis terquc expertumfrustra ; delere jtidebat, 
 
 Et male tornatos incudi redder e versus. 
 
 Si defendere delictum, quam verlere, malles ; 
 
 Nulla ultra verbum,aut operam insumebatinanem, 
 
 Qiwi sine ravali teque et tua solus amares. 
 
 Let good Qiiintilius all your lines revise. 
 
 And bo will freely say, mend this audtbis : 
 
 Sir, 1 have often try'd,and try'd again, 
 
 I'm sure I can't do better, 'tis in vain ; 
 
 Then blot out every word, or try once more> 
 
 And file these ill tun'd verses o'er and o'er : 
 
 But if you seem in love with your own thought, 
 
 More eager to defend than mend your fault, 
 
 He says no more but lets the fop go on, 
 
 And, rival free, admire his lovely own. Creech. 
 
 If you have not the advantage of friends to survey 
 your writings, then read them over yourself, and all 
 the way consider what will be the sentence and judg- 
 ment of all the various characters of mankind upon 
 them ; think what one of your own party would say, 
 or what would be the sense of an adversary ; imagine 
 
 * To cut off such chicanery, it may perhaps be the most expedient for 
 a person consulted, on such an occasion, to note down on distinct paper, 
 with proper references, the advised alterations, referring it to the autbpr^ 
 to make such use of them as he, on due deliberation, shall think fit. 
 
OF THE MIND. 271 
 
 what a curious or a malicious man, Vihat a captious or 
 an envious critic, what a vulg;ar or a learned reader 
 would object, either to the matter, the manner, or the 
 style ; and be sure and think with yourself what )^ou 
 yourself could say against your own writing, if you 
 were of a different opinion, or a stanger to the writer ; 
 and by these means you will obtain some hints where- 
 by to correct and improve your own work, and to 
 guard it better against the censures of the public, as 
 well as to render it more useful to that part of man- 
 kind for whom you chiefly design it. 
 
 CHAP. vni. 
 
 Of Writing and Reading Cantroversies. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of Writing Controversies. 
 
 AVhEN a person of good sense writes on any con- 
 troverted subject, he will generally bring the strongest 
 arguments that are usually to be found for the support 
 of his opinion ; and when that is done, he will repre- 
 sent the most powerful objections against it, in a fair 
 and candid manner, giving them their full force, and at 
 last will put in such an answer to those objections, as 
 he thinks will dissipate and dissolve the force of them ; 
 and herein the reader will generally find a full view of 
 the controversy, together with the main strength of 
 argument on both sides. 
 
 When a good writer has set forth his own opinion 
 at large, and vindicated it with its fairest and strongest 
 proofs, he shall be attacked by some pen on the other 
 side of the question ; and if his opponent be a wise and 
 sensible writer, he will show the best reasons Avhy the 
 former opinions cannot be true ; that is, he will draw 
 out the objections against them in their fullest array, 
 in order to destroy what he supposes a mistaken opin- 
 ion ; and here we may reasonably suppose that an op- 
 ponent will draw up his objections against the supposed 
 
272 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 error in a brighter light, and with stronger evideuc«* 
 than the ftrst writer did, who propounded his opinion, 
 which was contrary to those objections. 
 
 If, in the third place, the first, writer answers his op- 
 ponent with care and diligence, and maintains his own 
 point against the objections which were raised in the 
 best manner ; the reader may then generally presume, 
 that in these three pieces he has a complete view of 
 the controversy, together with the most solid and 
 powerful arguments on both sides of the debate. 
 
 But when a fourth, and fifth, and sixth volume ap- 
 pear, in rejoinders and replies, we cannot reasonably 
 expect any great degrees of light to be derived from 
 them ; or that much further evidences for truth should 
 be found in them ; and it is sufficiently evident from 
 daily experience, that many mischiefs attend this pro- 
 longation of controversies among men of learning, 
 which for the most pttrt do injury to the truth, either 
 by turning the attention of the reader quite away from 
 the original point to other matters, or by covering the 
 truth with a multitude of occasional incidents and per- 
 plexities which serve to bewilder rather than guide a 
 faithful inquirer. 
 
 Sometimes, in these latter volumes, the writers on 
 both sides will hang upon little words and occasional 
 expressions, of their opponent, in order to expose 
 them, which have no necessary connexion with the 
 grand point in view, and which have nothing to do with 
 the debated truth. 
 
 Sometimes they will spend many a page in vindica- 
 ting their own character, or their own little senten- 
 ces or accidental expressions, from the remarks of 
 their opponent, in which expressions or remarks the 
 briginal truth has no concern. 
 
 And sometimes again you shall find even writers of 
 ^ood sense, who have happened to express themselves 
 m an improper and indefensible manner, led away by 
 the fondness of self love to justify those expressions, 
 and vindicate those little lapses they Avere guilty of, 
 rather than they will condescend to correct those 
 little mistakes, or recall those improper expressions. 
 O that we would put oflf our pride, our self sufiiciency, 
 and our infallibility, when we enter into a debate of 
 
OF THE MIND. n^ 
 
 truth ! But if the writer be guilty of mingling these 
 things with his grand argument, happy will that reader 
 be who has judgment enough to distinguish them, and 
 to neglect every thing that does not belong to the 
 original theme proposed and disputed. 
 
 fet here it may be proper to put in one exception tO 
 this general observation or remark, namely, when the 
 second writer attacks only a particular or collateral 
 opinion, which was maintained by the first, then the 
 fourth writing may be supposed to"^ contain a necessary 
 part of the complete force of the argument, as well as 
 the second and third, because the first writing only 
 occasionally or collaterally mentioned that sentiment, 
 which the second attacks and opposes, and, in such a 
 case, the second maybe esteemed as the first treatise 
 on that controversy. It would take up too much time 
 should we mention instances of this kind, which might 
 be pointed to in most of our controversial writers, and 
 it might be invidious to enter into the detail.* 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of Reading Controversies. 
 
 W HEN we take a book into our hands, wherein any 
 doctrine or opinion is printed in a way of argument, we 
 are too often satisfied and determined beforehand 
 whether it be right or wrong; and if we are on the 
 writer's side, we are generally tempted to take his argu- 
 ments for solid and substantial ; and thus our own for- 
 
 * Upon this it may be remarked farther, that there is a certain spirit 
 of modesty and of benevolence which never fail to adorn a writer on such 
 occasions, and which generally does him much more service in the judg- 
 ment of wise and sensible men, than any poig^nanc)' of satire, with which 
 he might be able to animate his productions •, and as this always appears 
 amiable, so it is peculiarly charming when ihe opponent shows that pert- 
 nessand petulancy which is so very coinmnn on such occasions. When 
 a writer, instead of pursuing with eager resentment the antagonist that 
 has given him such provocation, calmly attends to the main question in 
 debate, with a noble negligence of those liltle advantages which ill nature 
 and ill manners always give, he acquires a glory far superior to any tro- 
 phies which wit can raise. And it is highly probable, that the solid in- 
 struction his pages may contain, will give a continuance to his writings 
 far beyond what tracts of peevish controversy are to expect, of which the 
 much greater part are borne away into oblivion by the wind they raise, 
 or burned in their own flames. 
 
^74 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 mer sentiment is established more powerfully, without 
 a sincere search after truth. 
 
 If we are on the other side of the question, we then 
 take it for granted, that there is nothing of force in 
 these arguments, and we are satisfied with a short sur- 
 vey of the book, and are soon persuaded to pronounce 
 mistake, weakness, and insufficiency concerning it. 
 Multitudes of common readers, who are fallen into any 
 error, when they are directed and advised to read a 
 treatise that would set them right, read it with a sort 
 of disgust which they have before entertained; they 
 skim lightly over the arguments, they neglect or despise 
 the force ot them, and keep their own conclusions firm 
 in their assent, and thus maintain their error in the 
 midst of light, and grow incapable of conviction. 
 
 But if we would indeed act like sincere searchers pf 
 the truth, we should survey every argument with a 
 careful and unbiassed mind, whether it agree with our 
 former opinion or no ; we should give every reasoning 
 its full force, and weigh it in our sedatest judgment. 
 Now the best way to try what force there is in the 
 arguments which are brought against our own opinions, 
 is to sit down and endeavour to give a solid answer, 
 one by one, to every argument that the author brings 
 to support his own doctnne ; and in this attempt, if we 
 find there some arguments which we are not able to 
 answer fairly to our own minds, we should then begin 
 to bethink ourselves, whether we have not been hither- 
 to in a mistake, and whether the defender of the con- 
 trary sentiments may not be in the right. Such a 
 method as this will effectually forbid us to pronounce 
 at once against those doctrines, and those writers, 
 which are contrary to our sentiments ; and we shall 
 endeavour to find solid arguments to refute their posi- 
 tions, before we entirely establish ourselves in a con- 
 trary opinion. 
 
 Volatilis had given himself up to the conversation of 
 the free thinkers of our age upon all subjects ; and 
 being pleased with the wit and appearance of argument 
 in some of our modern deists, had too easily deserted 
 the christian faith, and gone over to the camp of the 
 infidels. Among other books which were recom- 
 mended to him, to reduce him to the faith of the gos- 
 
OF THE MIND. S75 
 
 pel, he had Mr. John Reynolds' Three Letters to a 
 Veist put into his hands, and was particularly desired to 
 . peruse the third of them with the utmost care, as being 
 an unanswerable defence of the truth of Christianity. 
 He took it in hand, and, after having given it a short 
 survey, he told his friend, he saw nothing in it but the 
 common arguments which we all use to support the 
 religion in which we have been educated, but they 
 wrought no conviction in him ; nor did he see sufficient 
 reason to believe that the gospel of Christ was not a 
 piece of enthusiasm, or a mere imposture. 
 
 Upon this, the friend who recommended Mr. Rey- 
 nolds' Three Letters to his study, being confident of the 
 force of truth which lay there, entreated of Volatilis 
 that he would set himself down with diligence, and try 
 to answer Mr. Reynolds' Third Letter in vindication 
 of the gospel ; and that he would show, under every 
 head, how the several steps which were taken in the 
 propagation of the Christian religion, might be the 
 natural effects of imposture or enthusiasm, and conse- 
 quently, that it deserves no credit among men. 
 
 Volatilis undertook the work, and after he had en- 
 tered a little way into it, found himself so bewildered, 
 and his arguments to prove the apostles either enthusi- 
 asts or impostors so muddled, so perplexed, and so incbn- 
 clusivcj that, by a diligent review of this Letter to the 
 Deists, at last he acknowledged himself fully convinced 
 that the religion of Jesus was divine ; for that Chris- 
 tian author had made it appear, it was impossible that 
 that doctrine should have been pl-opagated in the world 
 by simplicity or folly, by fraud or falsehood ; and ac- 
 cordin}i;ly, he resigned his soul up to the gospel of the 
 blessed Jesus. 
 
 I fear there have been multitudes of such unbelievers 
 as Volatilis; and he himself has confessed to me, that 
 even his most rational friends would be constrained to 
 yield to the evidence of the Christian doctrine, if they 
 woijld honestly try the same method. 
 
DISCOURSE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN and YOUTH. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Of the Importance of Education, and the Design of this 
 Discourse, with a Plan of it. 
 
 X HE children of the present age, are the hope of the 
 age to come. We who are now acting our several 
 parts in the busy scenes of life, are hastening off the 
 stage apace ; months and days are sweeping us away 
 from the business and the surface of this earth, and con- 
 tinually laj^ing some of us to sleep under ground. The 
 circle of thirty years will plant another generation in our 
 room ; another set of mortals will be the chief actors 
 in all the greater and lesseraffairs of this life, and will fill 
 the world with blessings, or with mischiefs, when our 
 heads lie low in the dust. 
 
 Shall' we not then consider with ourselves, What can 
 we do now to prevent those mischiefs, and to entail 
 blessings on our successors ? What shall we do to secure 
 wisdom, goodness, and religion, amongst the next gen- 
 eration of men ? Have we any concern for the glory of 
 God in the rising age ? Any solicitude for the propaga- 
 tion of virtucand happiness to those who shall stand up 
 in our stead ? Let us then hearken to the voicfc of God 
 and Solomon, and we shall learn how this may be done ; 
 the ail \yise God, and the wisest of men, join to givie us 
 this advice ; " Train up a child in the way he shouldgo, 
 and when he is old he unll not depart from it.^^ T^e 
 sense of it may be expressed more at large in this prop- 
 osition, namely, Let children have a good educatioa 
 
OF THE MIND. 277 
 
 given them in the younger parts of life, and this is the 
 most likely way to establish them in virtue and piety in 
 their elder years. 
 
 In this discourse, I shall not enter into any inquiries 
 about the management of children in the two or three 
 first years of their life; I leave that tender age entirely 
 to the care of the mother and the nurse ; yet not with- 
 out a wish that some wiser and happier pen would give 
 advice or friendly notice to nurses and mothers, of what 
 they ought to avoid and what they ought to do in those 
 early seasons ; and indeed, they may do much to- 
 wards the future welfare of those young buds and 
 blossoms, those lesser pieces of human nature, which 
 are their proper charge. Some of the seeds of virtue 
 and goodness may be conveyed almost into their very 
 constitution betimes, by the pious prudence of those 
 who have the conduct of them ; and some forward 
 vices may be nipped in the very bud ; which in three 
 years time might gain too firm a root in their heart and 
 practice, and may not easily be plucked up by all 
 the following care of their teachers. 
 
 But 1 begin with children when they can walk and talk, 
 when they have learned their mother tongue, when 
 they begin to give some more evident discoveries of 
 their intellectual powers, and are more manifestly ca- 
 pable of having their minds formed and moulded into 
 knowledge, virtue and pieiy. 
 
 Now the first and most universal ingredient which en- 
 ters into the education of children, is an instruction of 
 thf m in those things which are necessary and useful for 
 them in their rank and station, and that with regard to 
 this world and the world to come. 
 
 I limit these instt^uctions, (especially such as relate to 
 this world) by the station and rank of life in which 
 children are born and placed by the providence of God. 
 Persons of better circumstances in the world should 
 give their sons and their daughters a much larger share 
 of knowledge, and a richer variety of instruction than 
 meaner persons can or ought. But since every child 
 that is born into this world hath a body and a soul, since 
 its happiness or misery in this world and the next, de- 
 pends very much upon its instructions and knowledge. 
 It hatha right to be taught by its parents, according to 
 A a 
 
^n IMPROVEMENT 
 
 their best ability, so much as is necessary for its well 
 being, both in soul and body, here and hereafter. 
 
 It is true that the great uod our Creator hath made 
 us reasonable creatures ; we are by nature capable of 
 learning a million of objects ; but as the soul comes into 
 the world, it is unfurnished with knowledge ; we are 
 born ignorant of every good and useful thing ; we know 
 not God, we know not ourselves, we know not what is 
 our duty and our interest, nor where lies our danger ; 
 and, if left entirely to ourselves, should probably grow 
 up like the brutes of the earth ; we should trifle awaj' 
 the brightest seasons of hfe in a thousand crimes and 
 follies, and endure the fatigues and burdens of it, sur- 
 rounded with a thousand miseries ; and at last we should 
 perish and die without knowledge or hope, if we had no 
 mstructers. 
 
 All our other powers of nature, such as the will and 
 the various affections, the senses, the appetites, and the 
 limbs, would become wild instruments of madness and 
 mischief, if not governed by the understanding ; and the 
 understanding itself would run into a thousand errors, 
 dreadful and pernicious, and would employ all the other 
 powers in mischief and madness, if it hath not the 
 nappioess to be instructed in the things of God and men. 
 And who is there among all our fellow creatures so 
 much obliged to bestow this instruction on us, as the 
 persons who, by Divine Providence, have been the in- 
 struments to bnng us into life and being ? It is their duty 
 to give their young offspring this benefit of instruction, 
 as far as they are able ; or at least to provide such in 
 structers for them, and to put the children under their 
 care. 
 
 Here let us therefore inquire what are the several 
 things in which children should be instructed ? And 
 upon a due survey, we shall find the most important 
 things which children ought to learn and know are these 
 which follow. 
 
SECTION I. 
 
 Of Instructing Children in Religion. 
 
 Religion, in all the parts of it, both what they are 
 to believe, and what they are to practise, is most ne- 
 cessary to be taught. I mention this in the first place 
 not only because it is a matter of the highest imjjor- 
 tance, and of most universal concern to all mankind, 
 but because it may be taught even in those very early 
 years of life. As soon as children begin to know almost 
 any thing, and to exercise their reason about matters 
 that lie within the reach of their knowledge, they may 
 be brought to know so much of religion as is necessary 
 for their age and state. For instance, 
 
 I. Young children may be taught that there is a God, 
 a great and Almighty God, who made them, and who 
 gives them every good thing. That he sees them every 
 where, though they cannot see him ; and that he takes 
 notice of all their behaviour. 
 
 £. They must be told what they should do, and what 
 they should avoid, in order to please God. They should 
 be taught in general to know the difference between 
 good and evil. They mny learn that it is their duty to 
 fear, love, and worship God, to pray to him for what 
 they want, and to praise him for what they enjoy ; to 
 obey their parents, to speak truth, and to be honest 
 and friendly to all mankind : and to set a guard upon 
 their own appetites and passions. And that to neglect 
 these things, or do any thing contrary to them, is smful 
 in the sight of God. 
 
 ^ S. Their consciences are capable of receiving convic- 
 tion when they have neglected these duties, or broken 
 the commands of God, or of their parents ; and they 
 may be made sensible that the great and holy God, who 
 loves the righteous, and bestovvs blessings upon them, 
 is angry with those who have broken his commands and 
 sinned against him ; and therefore that they themselves 
 are become subject to his dispkasure. 
 
280 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 4. They may be told that there is another world 
 after this ; and that their souls do not die when their 
 bodies die ; that they shall be taken up into heaven, 
 which is a state of pleasure and happiness, if they have 
 been good and holy in this world ; but if they have 
 been wicked childr-'n, they must go down to hell, which 
 is a state of misery and torment. 
 
 5. You may also inform them, that though their 
 bodies die and are buried, yet God can and will raise 
 them to life''again ; and that their body and soul togeth- 
 er must be made happy or miserable according to their * 
 behaviour in this life. 
 
 6. They may be taught, that there is no way for such 
 sinful creatures as we are to be received into God's favour, 
 but for the sake of Jesus Christ the Son of God, who 
 came down from heaven into our world, and lived a 
 life of pure and perfect holiness, and suffered death to 
 reconcile sinners to the great and holy God, who is of- 
 fended by the sins of men, and now lives in heaven to 
 plead for mercy for them ; and that as this Jesus 
 Christ is the only reconciler between God and man, so 
 all their hope must be placed in him. 
 
 7. They may be taught that their very natures are 
 sinful ; they may be convinced that they are inclined 
 naturally to do evil ; and thev should be informed, that 
 it is the holy spirit of God who must cure the evil tem- • 
 per of their own spirits, and make them holy and fit to 
 dwell with God in heaven. 
 
 8. They should als6 be instructed to pray to God, 
 that for the sake of Jesus Christ, the great Mediator 
 or Reconciler, he would pardon their sins past, and help 
 them by his Spirit to love and serve him with zeal and 
 faithfulness, for the time to come: that he would 
 bestow all necessary blessings upon them in this world, 
 and bring them safe at last to his heavenly kingdom. 
 
 9. In the last place they should be informed, that our 
 blessed Saviour has appointed two ordinances to be 
 observed by all his followers to the end of the world, 
 which are usually called sacraments. 
 
 The one is baptism, wherein persons are to be washed 
 with water, in the name of the Father, the Son, and 
 the Holy Spirit, to signify their bein^ ^iven up to Christ, 
 as his disciples, or professors of Christianity ; and as aa 
 
OF THE MIND. Ul 
 
 emblem of that purity of heart and life, which, as such, 
 they must aim at, and endeavour after. 
 
 The other is the Lord's supper, wherein bread is bro- 
 ken and wine is poured out, and distributed, to be eaten 
 and drank by Christians in remembrance of the body 
 of Christ, which was put to a bloody death, as a sac- 
 rifice to obtain pardon for the sins of men. 
 
 The first of these, namely, baptism, is but once to be 
 administered to any person ; but the last, namely, the 
 Lord's supper, is to be frequently performed, to keep 
 us always in mind of the death of Christ, till he comes 
 again from heaven to judge the world. 
 
 This is the sum ani substance of the Christian reli- 
 gion, drawn out into a very few plain articles ; and I 
 think a child of a common capacity, who is arrived at 
 three or four years of age, may be taught some part of 
 these arcicles, and may learn to understand them all at 
 seven, or eight, or nine, at least so far as is needful, for 
 all his own exercises of devotion and piety. As his age 
 increases, he may be instructed more at large in the 
 principles and practices of our holy religion, as I shall 
 show more particularly in the third section. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 The Exercise and Improvement of their JVatural Powers, 
 
 AXAVING mentioned religion as the principal thing 
 in which children should be instructed, I proceed to say, 
 in the second place, that children should be taught the 
 true use, the exercise and improvement of their natural 
 powers ; and we may for order sake distinguish these 
 into the powers of the body and those of the mind ; 
 now though nature gives these powers and faculties, yet 
 it is a good education that must instruct us in the exer- 
 cise and improvement of them ; otherwise, like an un- 
 cultivated field, they will be ever barren and fruitless, or 
 produce weeds and briars, instead of herbs and corn. 
 
 Among the powers of the mind which are to be thus 
 cultivated, we may reckon the understanding, the mem- 
 ory, the judgment, the faculty of reasoning, and the 
 conscience. 
 
 Aa2 
 
282 rMPROVEMENT 
 
 Persuade them to value their understanding as a noble 
 faculty, and allure them to seek after the enrichment 
 of it with a variety of knowledge. Let no day escape 
 without adding some new ideas to their understanding, 
 and giving their young unfurnished minds some further 
 notion of things. 
 
 Almost every thing is new to a child, and novelty 
 will entice them onward to new acquisitions ; show 
 them the birds, the beasts, the fishes and insects, trees, 
 herds, fruits, and all the several parts and properties of 
 the vegetable and the animal world ; teach them to ob- 
 serve the various occurences in nature and providence, 
 the sun, moon, and stars, the day and night, summer 
 and winter, the clouds and the sky, the hail, snow and 
 ice, winds, tire, water, earth, air, fields, woods, moun- 
 tains, rivers, &lc. Teach them that the great God made 
 all these things, and that his providence governs them 
 all. Acquaint a child also with domestic affairs so far 
 as is needful, and with the things that belong to the civil 
 and the military life, the church and the state, with the 
 works of God and the works of men. A thousand ob- 
 jects that strike their eyes, their ears, and all their senses, 
 will furnish out new matter for their curiosity and your 
 instructions. 
 
 There are some books which are published in the 
 world, wherein a child may be delightfully led into the 
 knowledge of a great number of these things by pictures, 
 or figures of birds, beasts, &lc. well graven, with their 
 names under them. This Avill much assist the labour 
 of the teacher, and add to the pleasure of the children 
 in their daily learning. 
 
 You who instruct them should allure their young cu- 
 riosity to ask many questions, encourage them in it, and 
 gratify their inquiries, by giving them the best and most 
 satisfactory answers you can frame, and accommodate 
 all your language to their capacity. 
 
 Give them, as far as possible, clear ideas of things, 
 and teach them how to distinguish one thing from 
 another by their different appearances, by their different 
 properties, and by their diflierent effects. Show them 
 how far some things agree with others, and how far they 
 differ from them j and above all things teach them, as for 
 
OF THE MIND. 28S 
 
 as their young understandings will admit, to distinguish 
 between appearances and realities, between truth and 
 falsehood, between good and evil, between trifles and 
 things of importance ; for these are the most valuable 
 pieces of knowledge and distinction which can be lodg- 
 ed in the young understandings of children. 
 
 2, The memory is another faculty of the soul, which 
 should be cultivated and improved ; endeavour care- 
 fully to impress on their minds things of worth and 
 value. Such are, short and useful and entertaining 
 stories, which carry in them some virtue recommended, 
 some vice ridiculed or punished ; various human and di- 
 vine truths, rules of piety and virtue, precepts of pru- 
 dence, &:c. Repeat these things often to them by day 
 and by night ; teach them these things in verse and in 
 prose ; rehearse them in their ears at all proper seasons, 
 and take occasion to make them repeat these things to 
 you. 
 
 Be solicitous to know what it is they learn when they 
 are out of your sight, and take good care that their 
 memories be not charged with trifles and idle trumpery. 
 The memory is a noble repository or cabinet of the soul ; 
 it should not be filled with rubbish and lumber. Silly 
 tales and foolish songs, the conundrums of nurses, and 
 the dull rhymes that are sung to lull children asleep, or 
 to sooth a fro ward humour, should be generally forbid to 
 entertain those children where a good education is de- 
 signed. Something more innocent, more solid and more 
 profitable, may be invented, instead of these fooleries. 
 If it were possible, let a very few things be lodged in the 
 memory of children which they need to' forget w hen 
 they are men. 
 
 The way to strengthen and improve the memory is 
 to put it upon daily exercise. 1 do not mean that young 
 children should be kept so close to their book as to be 
 crammed with lessons all the day long, and made to 
 receive and sustain a heavy load every hour. The pow- 
 ers of the soul, (especially such as act in close concert 
 with the body, and are so much aided by the brain) 
 may be overburdened and injured as well as the limbs; 
 the mind may be perplexed'and confounded, the head 
 may be overstrained and weakened, and the health 
 impaired in those tender years of life, by an excessive 
 imposition on the memory ; the teachers of children 
 
ii84 IMPROVEMEINT 
 
 should have some prudence, to distinguish their age 
 and their several capacities ; they should know how to 
 avoid extremes. 
 
 But in general it may be said, that the powers of the 
 mind as well as those of the body, grow stronger by a 
 constant and moderate exercise. Every day let the 
 memory of a child be entrusted with something new ; 
 every day let some lesson be learned ; and every Lord's 
 day at least, even in their youngest years, let them 
 learn by heart some one text of scripture, (chiefly that 
 on which the minister preaches :) this will grow up in 
 time to a considerable treasure of scriptural knowledge, 
 which will be of unspeakable use to them in the chris- 
 tian life. I have known children, who from their early 
 years have been constantly trained up and taught to 
 remember a few sentences of a sermon besides the 
 text, and by this means have grown up by degrees to 
 know all the distinct parts and branches of a discourse, 
 and in time to write down half the sermon after they 
 came home, to their own consolation, and the improve- 
 ment of their friends ; whereas those who have been 
 never taught to use their memories in their younger 
 parts of life, loose every thing from their thoughts, 
 when it is passed oft' from their ears, and come home 
 from noble and edifying discourses, pleased (it may be) 
 with transient sound, and commending the preacher, 
 but uninstructed, unimproved', without any growth in 
 knowledge or piety. 
 
 3. The judgment is another natural power of the 
 mind, which should be exercised and improved in chil- 
 dren. They should be taught to pass no judgment on 
 inen or things rashly or suddenly, but to withhold their 
 judgment till they see sufficient reason to determine 
 them. To this end, show them, in little common in- 
 stances, how often they are deceived when they judge 
 on a sudden, without due consideration, and how often 
 they are forced to change their opinions. Put them in 
 mind how soon they have found themselves mistaken, 
 when they have given their opinion too hastily. This 
 will make them cautious, and afraid of being so rash, 
 either in praising one thing, or in condemning another. 
 
 Teach them to judge, not merely by outward show 
 und appearance, but by searching things to the bottom, 
 
OF THE MIND. £85 
 
 ibonvince them that every man who hath fine clothes 
 is not rich, and that every man who talks hard words is 
 not wise or learned ; and that every one who wears a 
 red coat is not a soldier ; nor is every person good hu- 
 moured whospeaiis very comphusant things in compa- 
 ny. Take frequent occasion to show them how fre- 
 "quently they will be mistaken if they judge immediate- 
 ly by outward appearances of things. 
 
 Tell them that they must not judge of things by 
 custom, nor by the common opinions of the multitude, 
 nor by the practices of the rich and the great ; for all 
 these things may deceive them ; but that they must 
 judge of things merely by reason, except in matters of 
 religion, and there they must judge rather by scripture, 
 or the word of God. Let them know, that customs 
 change and alter, and the customs of one age or of one 
 nation differ greatly from those of another ; but that 
 the nature and reason of things is still the same, and 
 that scripture is the constant and unchangeable rule of 
 our religion. 
 
 To confirm this, let them be informed that it was the 
 custom of our ancestors in England, and it is now the 
 custom in France and Spain, to say their prayers in 
 Latin, and to worship images ; but it is a sinful cuistom, 
 though all the multitudes of the common people agree 
 in it, and though the great and rich practise it also. 
 Nor is our present custom in Great Britain, of praying 
 in English, and worshipping no images, to be esteemed 
 the right way of worship, because it is the custom of 
 the nation, but because it is agreeable to the word of 
 God, which forbids us to worship images, or to pray 
 in an unknown tongue. Take every occasion t0;guard 
 them against prejudices and passing a judgment on 
 men or things upon insufficient grounds. 
 ^ 4. The reasoning powers of the mind should be cul- 
 tivated and improved in children. This is very near 
 akin to the former, and therefore I shall be very brief 
 here. 
 
 Whensoever children give you their opinion of any 
 thing, ask them to give you also, the reason why thev 
 are of that opinion ; whensoever they desire or wish 
 for anything, or show an aversion to it, inquire what is 
 the reason of their desire or aversion ; when they have 
 done any thing of their own will, ask them the reason 
 
286 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 why they did it. And when you do any thing that is 
 for their ^ood, show them the reason why you did it, 
 and convince them that it was fit and necessary to 
 be done though perhaps it was not so pleasing to them. 
 
 By calling their young reason thus into exercise, you 
 will teach them wisdom betimes ; you will awaken 
 manly thoughts within them, and so lead them to a 
 rational and manly conduct in their childish years ; 
 by this means also you will always have a handle to take 
 hold of, in order to persuade them to their duty, and to 
 save them from mischief. But if their reasoning powers 
 be neglected, you will train them up like the horse and 
 the mole who have no understanding ; they will grow 
 like brutes in the shape of men, and reason will have 
 but little power over them in the following parts of 
 life. 
 
 5. Conscience is another natural power of the soul, 
 wherein the principles of virtue and rules of duty to God 
 and man are to be laid up : It is something within us 
 that calls us to account for our faults, and by which we 
 pass a judgment concerning ourselves and all our ac- 
 tions. 
 
 Children have a conscience within them., and it should 
 be awfikened early to its duty. They should be taught 
 to reflect aud look back upon their own behaviour, to 
 call themselves often to account, to compare their deeds 
 with those good rules and principles laid up in their 
 minds, and to see how far they have complied with 
 them, and how far they have neglected them. Parents 
 should teach their children to pay a religious respect to 
 the inward dictates of virtue within them, to examine 
 their actions continually by the light of their own con- 
 sciences, and to rejoice when they can approve them- 
 selves to their own minds that they have acted well 
 according to the best of their knowledge ; they ought 
 also to attend to the inward reproofs of conscience, and 
 mourn, and be ashamed, and repent, when they have 
 sinned against their light. It is of admirable use to- 
 ward all the practices of religion and every virtue, to 
 have a conscience well stored with good principles, and 
 to be always kept tender and watchful ; it is proper 
 that children should learn to reverence and obey this 
 inward monitor betimes, that every wilful sin may give 
 
OF THE MIND. 287 
 
 their conscience a sensible pain and uneasiness, and that 
 they may be disposed to sacrifice every thing else to 
 consideration of conscience, and to endure any ex- 
 tremities rather Ihan act contrary to it. 
 
 I proceed in the next place to consider the several 
 powers of the body, which ou^ht to be regulated and 
 managed by the due instruction of children in their 
 younger years. Now, as the God of nature has givea 
 children eyes and tongues, and feet, and arms, and 
 hands, it is expedient that parents should teach their 
 children the proper use of them. 
 
 1. The God of nature has given them eyes, let their 
 parents teach them to use these eyes aright. Would 
 It be amiss in me here to give a hint or two of this 
 kind ? May not children be warned against a staring 
 look, against stretching their eyelids into a glare of 
 Tvildness ? May they not be forbid to look aside on any 
 object in a squinting manner, when their faces are 
 turned another way ? Should they not be instructed to 
 look directly with their faces turned to the thing they 
 look at ? May they not be taught with due courage to 
 look in the face of the person they speak to, yet with 
 an humble, modest aspect,^ as befits a child ? A becom- 
 ing courage and a becoming modesty dwell much in 
 the eye. 
 
 Some children should be often admonished to lay 
 aside a gloomy and frowning look, a scowling air, an 
 uneasy and forbidding aspect. They should be taught 
 to smooth the ruffles of their brow, and put on a lively, 
 pleasing and cheerful countenance among their friends ; 
 some there are who have all these graces by nature, but 
 those who have them not may be corrected and soften- 
 ed by the care of parents in their younger years.* 
 
 2. Let parents teach their children to use their 
 tongues properly and agreeably; not only to speak, 
 but to pronounce their words plain and distinct. Let 
 
 * It may here be recollected by^the way, that a. gloominess of aspect- 
 does not always arise from a malignity of temper, but sometimes from 
 fear of displeasing and incurring reproof-, and is therefore often to be 
 removed by speaking kindly to children, and encouraging them with ex- 
 pressions of candour and tenderness. To know how in such cases to di- 
 vert a child, and make him cheerful and happy in the compacy of a pa- 
 rent, is none of the least important caies of education. 
 
£88 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 them be iustnicted to keep due and proper distances be- 
 tween their word- and sentences, and not speak in swift 
 hurry, with a tumalt of syllables and clutter upon their 
 lips, which w-ill sound like a foreign o;ibberish, and 
 never be understood. Nor should they drawl out their 
 words in a slow long tone, which is ♦-.qually ungraceful 
 and disagreeable. There are two other common faults 
 in speaking, and where they are found they should be 
 corrected early in children. 
 
 The one is lisping, which is a pronunciation of the 
 letter S or Z, or C, before E and I, as though it were 
 TH. Thus instead of spice they cry ihpithe, instead of 
 cease they say theathe. This may be cured by teaching 
 them to pronounce a few such words as these, where 
 the sound of the letter S prevails, with their teeth shut 
 close ; and by forbidding them to put their tongue be- 
 tween their teeth at any time, except when tk is to be 
 pronounced. 
 
 The other fault is stammering, which I suppose may 
 be commonly prevented or cured by teaching children 
 not to speak much, and to speak slow always; and 
 they should be warned against all anger or hastiness, 
 or eagerness of spirit, for such a temper will throw out 
 their words faster than the organs of speech can ac- 
 commodate themselves to form the syllables, and thus 
 bring a hurry and confusion into their speech ; and Ihey 
 should also gain a good degree of courage or becoming 
 assurance, and not speak with much concern or fear ; 
 for fear will stop the organs of speech, and hinder the 
 formation of words. 
 
 But 1 insist no longer on the use of the tongue in speak- 
 ing. . 
 
 3. As God bath given them feet, let parents teach 
 Them to stand firm and strong, and to walk in a becom- 
 ing and decent manner, without waddling from side to 
 side, without turning either or both their feet inward 
 without little jerks in their motion, or long strides, or 
 any of those awkwardnesses which continue with many 
 persons to old age, for want of having these irregularities 
 corrected when they were youtig. Children should be 
 indulged in their sports, sometimes in runnijig swiftly, 
 and in leaping, where there is no danger, in order to 
 exercise their limbs, and make them pliant and nimb)^, 
 strong and active, on all occasions. 
 
OF THE MIND. 289 
 
 As to their arms and hands, they were formed not 
 to lie folded in their bosom, but to be engaged in some 
 useful work ; and sometimes, with due moderation, ia 
 robust and hardy exercise and toil ; not so as to over- 
 strain their joints, but to acquire firmness of strength by 
 exercise. 
 
 And more especially those who are to get their bread 
 by their hands, should be inured to toilsome and vigorous 
 labours almost from their infancy ; they should be ac- 
 customed to work in heat and cold, and to bear rougher 
 exercises and fatigues of the body, that they may be fit 
 to endure hardships, and go through those difficulties 
 which their station of life may call them to, without any 
 injury or inconvenience. And it is desirable, that the 
 sons of all families should be in some degree inured to 
 such difficulties as these, which men of all ranks are 
 sometimes called to encounter. 
 
 If some fond and tender mothers had brought up their 
 children in this hardy manner, they had not now, in all 
 human probability, been mourning over their graves. In 
 their younger years they would scarcely let them set the 
 sole of their foot to the ground, nor suffer the wind to 
 blow upon them ; thus they grew up in a state of ten- 
 derness and infirmity, sickly and feeble creatures ; a sud- 
 den heat or a cold seized them ; their natures, which 
 were never accustomed to bear hardship, were unable 
 to resist the enemj^ ; a fever kindled in their blood, or 
 a catarrh or cough injured their lungs, and early buried 
 their parents' hopes in the dust. 
 
 Thus have I finished the second general head of in- 
 struction, that is, children should be instructed to exer- 
 cise and improve their natural powers both of mind and 
 body ; and this is one necessary part of a good educa- 
 tion, which parents and other teachers, should attend to 
 betimes. 
 
 Bb 
 
29Q mPROVEMENT 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Self Govermnent, 
 
 (children should be instructed in the art of self 
 government. They should be taught, as fjir as possible, 
 to govern their thoughts ; to use their wills to be de- 
 termined by the liglil of their understandings, and not 
 by headstrong and foolish humour ; they should learn to 
 keep the lower powers of nature under the command of 
 their reason ; they should be instructed to regulate their 
 senses, their imagination, their appetites, and their pas- 
 sions. Let it be observed, that 1 speak of these things 
 in this place, not as a part of religion, though they are 
 an important part of it, but give it as a direction exceed^ 
 ingly useful to all the purposes of human life in this 
 world. 
 
 1. Their thoughts and fancies should be brought un- 
 der early government. Children should be taught, as 
 far as possible, to keep their thoughts and attention fixed 
 upon what is their proper business ; and to withhold 
 them from roving and wandering away from the work 
 in which they are engaged. Matiy children have sucii 
 wild fluttering fancies, that they will not be easily con- 
 fined to fix upon one object for any considerable time; 
 every flying feather, every motion of any person or 
 thing that is near them, every sound or noise, or shadow, 
 calls them away from their duty. — When they should 
 employ their eyes on their book, or their work,'t,hey will 
 be gazmg at every thing besides their task ; they must 
 rise often to the window to see what passes abroad, 
 when their business lies within. 
 
 This volatile humour, if not gently altered, and wise- 
 ly corrected, in early years, will have an unhappy influ- 
 ence to hinder them for ever from attaining any great 
 excellence in whatsoever business they undertake. 
 Children should be taught therefore to call in their 
 wandering thoughts, and bind them to the work in hand, 
 till they have gone through it and finished it. 
 
 Yet this sort of wandering folly should not be chas- 
 tised severely in young children, nor should it be sub^ 
 
OF THE MIND. m% 
 
 (Ined with violence, by too closo and rigorous a con- 
 ijnt'ment to many long hours of labour or study, in 
 that early and tender part of life ; such conduct might 
 lireak or overwhelm an active and s])rightTy genius, 
 and destroy all those seeds of curiosity which promise 
 Wei' for maturer years ; but proper and agreeable me- 
 thods should be used to persuade and incline the ^oung 
 learner to attend to his present employment. It is far 
 better to iix the thoughts to dut)^ by allurement than by 
 severity ; but some way or other it ought to be endeav- 
 oured, at least in a good degree. 
 
 This fixi^dness of the mind and active powers, is not 
 only of great service to attain useful knowledge, or to 
 learn any business in common life, but it is of consider- 
 able advantage in religion, in attendance on divine wor- 
 ship, either prayer, preaching, or meditation ; where 
 the mind is subject to a thousand distractions, for want 
 of being taught'to fix the attention in younger years. 
 
 Persons who have well learned the art of governing 
 their thoughts, can pursue a train of thinking while they 
 walk through the streets of London, nor will all the 
 noise and hurry of that busy place break the thread of 
 their meditations. A happy attainment this, and a fe- 
 licity which hut few arrive at! 
 
 2. Children should be also instructed to govern their 
 inclinations and wishes, and to determine their wills and 
 their choice of things, not by humour and wild fancj% 
 but by the dictates of reason. Some persons even m 
 their mature 3'ears, can give no other account why they 
 choose and determine to do this or that, but because 
 they have a fancy for it, and they will do it. I will be- 
 cause I will, serves instead of all other reasons. And in 
 the same manner they manage their refusal or dislike of 
 any thing. I hate to do this thing ; I will not go to this 
 place, nor do that work ; lam resolved against it; and 
 all from mere humour. This is a conduct very unbe- 
 coming a reasonable creature; and this folly should be 
 corrected betimes in our early parts of life, since God has 
 given us understatiding and reason to be the guide of 
 our resolutions, and to direct our choice and all our ac- 
 tions. 
 
 3. Appetite is another thing which should be put un- 
 der strict government, and children should be taught 
 
29£ IMPROVEMENT 
 
 betimes to restrain it. That of the taste is the first thing 
 that gets the ascendent in our younger years, and a 
 guard should he set upon it early. What an unbecom- 
 ing thing it is for children to be craving after e\ery dish 
 that comes to a tabic ! And this they will generally do, 
 if they have never been taught to bridle their craving. 
 They must eat of all the pickles and sauces, and high 
 seasoned meats, and gorge themselves Avith a medley 
 of inconsistent dainties ; and without any restraint, lest 
 little master should be froward, or Icstlittle miss should 
 grow out of humour with her dinner. How often do 
 they make a foul inroad on their health by excess of eat- 
 ing, being tempted farther than nature reauires by 
 every luscious bit which is w^ithin their signt! How 
 frequently doth this indulgence vitiate their stomachs, 
 ruin their constitution, weaken the springs of nature, and 
 destroy the powers of animal life betimes ! How many 
 graves are filled, and funeral vaults crowded, with little 
 carcases, which have been brought to untimely death 
 "by the foolish fondness of a parent or a nurse, giving the 
 young creatures leave to eat every thing they desire ! 
 Or if they happen by strength of constitution, to survive 
 this pestilence, how often do they grow" up young glut- 
 tons, and place their happiness jn the satir^faclion of the 
 taste ! They are deaf to all the rules of virtue and abstir 
 nence all their Hves, because they were never taught to 
 deny themselves when they were young. O ! it is a 
 mean and shameful thing to be a slave to our taste, and 
 to let this brutal appetite subdue reason and govern the 
 man. But if appetites must be gratified in the child, 
 they will grow strong in the years of youth, and a thou- 
 sand to one but they overpower the man also. 
 
 Let but fond parents humour their little offspring, 
 and indulge their children to sip wine frequently, and 
 they will generally grow up to the love of it long before 
 nature needs it; and by this means they will imagine 
 drams are daily necessary for their support, by that 
 time they are arrived at the age of man or woman. 
 Thus nature is soon burnt up, and life pays for the 
 deadly draught ! The foundation of much g'luttony and 
 drunkenness, of many diseases that arise from intem- 
 perance, and of many an untimely death, is laid in the 
 nursery. 
 
OF THE MIND. 299 
 
 A.n excess of niceness in pleasing the palate is a fool- 
 ish and dangerous humour, which should never be en- 
 couraged by parents, since the plainest food is most 
 liealthtnl for all persons, but especially for children : 
 and in this respect they should be under the conduct 
 of their elders, and notahvays choose for themselves. 
 This conduct and discipline will train them up to virtue 
 and self denial, to temperance and frugality, to a relish 
 of plain and wholesome food, to the pleasures of active 
 health, and to a firm and cheerful old age. 
 
 The indulgence of a nice appetite in children, is not 
 only the reason why they are so often sick, but at the 
 same time it makes them sobumourish and squeamish, 
 that they can scarce be persuaded to swallow a medi- 
 cine which is necessary for their recovery. What a 
 long, tedious, and tiresome business is it to wait on some 
 children whole hours together, while all the soft persua- 
 sions and flatteries of a mother cannot prevail with 
 them to take a nauseous spoonful, or a bitter bolus, 
 though their life may seem to depend on it ! They 
 Iiave been taught to make an idol of their taste, and 
 even in the view and peril of death they can scarce be 
 persuaded to affront their idol, and displease their pal- 
 ate with a bitter draught, or even a pill which disgusts 
 it. 
 
 There are other appetites, if I may so call them, be- 
 side that of the taste, which children are ready to in- 
 dulge too far, if not limited and corrected by the wis- 
 dom of their parents. Their eyes are never satisfied 
 with seeing, nor their ears with hearing. Some youni^ 
 persons cannot hear of a fine show, but they must needs 
 see it ; nor can they be told of a concert of music, but 
 they must needs hear it, though it create an expense 
 beyond their circumstances, and may endanger their 
 health or their virtue. 
 
 1 confess freely, that I would recommend the sight 
 of uncommon things in nature or art, in government, 
 civil or military, to the curiosity of youth. If some 
 strange wild beasts or birds are to be shown, if lions 
 and eagles, ostriches and elephants, pehcans and rhino- 
 ceroses, are brought into our land ; if an ingenious 
 model of Solomon s temple, or some nice and admira-* 
 ble clock work, engines, or moving pictures, &ic. be 
 B h 2 
 
^M IMPROVEMENT 
 
 made a spectacle to the ingenious : if a king be crowd- 
 ed, or a public triumph proceed through the streets ; 
 when an army is reviewed by a prince, when an em- 
 bassador maiies a pubhc entry, or when there is a public 
 trial of criminals before a judge — I will readily allow 
 those sights are worthy the attendance of the younger 
 parts of mankind, once at least, where it may be done 
 With safety, and without too great hazard or expense. 
 Most of these are things which are not often repeated, 
 and it is fit that the curiosity of the eyes should be so 
 far gratified, as to give people, once in their lives, an 
 opportunity of knowing what these things are, that 
 their minds may be furnished with useful ideas of the 
 world, of nature or art, and with some notion of the 
 great and uncommon scenes and appearances of the 
 civil life. But for children to haunt every public spec- 
 tacle, to attend with constancy every lord mayor's 
 show, to seize every opportunity of repeating these 
 sights, suflfering nothing to escape them that may please 
 their senses, and this too often without any regard to 
 their religion, their virtue, or their health ; this is a 
 vanity which ought to be restrained by those to wliom 
 God and nature hath committed the care of their in- 
 struction, and who have a just and natural authority 
 over them. But of this, and some other subjects akin 
 to it, I may have occasion to speak more in the follow- 
 ing parts of this discourse, when 1 professedly treat on 
 the article of restraint. 
 
 Thus I have shown how the appetites and inclinations 
 of children should be put under discipline, and how they 
 may be taught self government in this respect. 
 
 4. Ttie passions or affections are the last things which 
 I shall mention ; these appear very early in chihlren to 
 want a regulation and government. They love and hate 
 too rashly, and with too much vehemence ; they grieve 
 and rejoice too violently, and on a sudden, and that for 
 mere trifles ; their hopes and fears, their desires and 
 their aversions, are presently raised to too high a pitch, 
 and upon very slight and insufficient grounds. It be- 
 comes a wise parent to watch over these young emo- 
 tions of their souls, and put in a word of prudent cau- 
 tion, as often as they observe these irregularities. 
 
 Let children be taught early, that the little things for 
 
OF THE MIND. £9il 
 
 which they are so zealous, for which they grieve or 
 rejoice so impetuously, are not worthy of these affec- 
 tions of their souls ; show them the folly of being so 
 fond of these triiies, and of vexing and growing fretful 
 for the loss of them. Inform them what a liappiness 
 it is to have few desires and few aversions, for this will 
 preserve them from a multitude of sorrows, and keep 
 their temper always serene and calm ; persuade thcnl 
 never to raise their hopes very high of things in this 
 world, and then they will never rat^et with great disap- 
 pointnif-nts. Teach them moderation in all the work- 
 ings of their spirits ; and inform them that their passions 
 should never be laid out thus on objects which do not 
 deserve them, nor rise higher than the occasion requires. 
 
 Teach bashful and timorous children, that they need 
 be ashamed of nothing but what is evil ; that they 
 should fear God in the first place, and serve him, and 
 then they need not be afraid of men, or of any thing 
 that threatens mischief to them ; for the Almighty 
 God will be their friend and defence. Engage their 
 fear and their love in the first place on God, the most 
 proper and supreme object of them ; let their hopes, 
 then- joys and their sorrows, as soon as possible, be tinc- 
 tured with religion ; set their young anections at work 
 on the most needful and important objects of them in 
 early life, and this will have a sweet and powerful influ- 
 ence on the better regulation of them with regard to 
 All sensible things. 
 
 Above all, let them know that they must govern their 
 anger, and not let it break out on every slight occasion. 
 It is anger that is eminently called passion among 
 children, and in the language of common life. This 
 therefore should eminently have a constant guard set 
 upon it. Show them how unreasonable and unmanly a 
 thing it is to take fire at every little provocation ? 
 how honourable and glorious to forgive an injury; how 
 much like God, and like the best of men. * Let them 
 know what Solomon would inform them, that tJie pa- 
 tient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit ; that he 
 who is slow to anger, is better than the mighty ; and 
 that he that ruleth his spirit is better than he that ta- 
 keth a city. Teach them to put away their little 
 quarrels and resentments, and to forget and bury them 
 
am IMPROVEMENT 
 
 in love. Let them be put in mind that though anger 
 may happen to rise a little in a good man, yet it rests 
 and abides only in the bosom of a fool ; and therefore 
 they should never grow sullen, nor let the sun go down 
 upon their wrath. 
 
 The occasions of childish resentment, and the risings 
 of anger, are ready to return often, and therefore they 
 should often have such warnings given them, and such 
 instructions repeated. Tell them how lovely a thing it 
 is to be meek and free from passionj and how much 
 such children are beloved of all. Instruct them how 
 much it tends to their own peace, to suffer nothing to 
 ruffle or discompose them 5 and when their little hearts 
 are ready to swell and grow big within them, and their 
 wrath takes sudden fire, put in some pretty soft word 
 to cure the return of this inward swelling, to quench thei 
 new flame that is kindling in their bosom, and to as- 
 suage the rising storm. Teach them by degrees to get 
 an habitual conquest over thisdisorder of naturejn youth, 
 and you will lay a foundation for their deliverance from 
 a thousand mischiefs in the following years and events 
 ^flife. 
 
 This shall suffice for the third head of instruction, 
 which relates to self-government: I have dwelt the 
 longer upon it, because it is of so great and evident im- 
 portance towards the ease and happiness of life, as well 
 as so considerable a part of religion ; and men can 
 hardly ever get so successful a victory over themselves, 
 Unless they begin when they are cliildren. 
 
OF THE MIND, 297 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 The Common Arts of Reading and Writing. 
 
 X HE next thing that I shall mention as a matter of 
 instruction for children, is the cotnmon arts of reading", 
 spelling, and writing. 
 
 Writing is almost a divine art, whereby thoughts may 
 be communicated without a voice, and understood 
 without hearing; to these I would add some small 
 knowledge of arithmetic and accounts, asthe practice 
 of it is in a manner so universal in our age, that it does 
 almost necessarily belong to a tolerable education. 
 
 The knowledge of letters is one of the greatest bless- 
 ings that ever God bestowed on the children of men ; 
 by this means mankind are enabled to preserve the 
 memory of things done in their own times, and to lay 
 up a rich treasure of knowledge for all succeeding 
 generations. 
 
 By the art of reading, we learn a thousand things 
 which our eyes can never see, and which our own 
 thoughts would never have reached to ; we are instruc- 
 ted by books in the wisdom of ancient ages ; we learn 
 what our ancestors have said and done, and enjoy the 
 benefit of the wise and judicious remarks which they 
 have made through the" whole course of life, without 
 the fatigue of their long and painful experiments. By 
 this means children may be led, in a great measure, into 
 the wisdom of old age. It is by Ihe art of reading 
 that we can sit at home, and acquaint ourselves with 
 what has been done in the distant parts of the world. 
 The histories and the customs of all ages and all na- 
 tions are brought, as it were, to our doors. By this art 
 we are let into the knowledge of the affairs of the Jews, 
 the Greeks, and the Romans ; their wars, their laws, 
 and their reli^on ; and we can tell what they did in 
 the nations of Europe, Asia, and Africa, above a thou- 
 sand years ago. 
 
 But the greatest blessing that w^e derive from reading, 
 is the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, wherein God 
 has conveyed down to us the discoveries of his wisdom, 
 
298 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 power, and grace, through many past ages : and where- 
 by we attain the knowledge of Christ, and of the way j 
 of salvation, by a Mediator. 
 
 It must he con'"essed, that in former age«?, before 
 printing was invented, the art of reading was not so ' 
 common, even in polite nations, because books were 
 much more costly, since they must be all written with 
 a pen, and were therefore hardly to be obtained by the 
 bulk of mankind : But since the providence of God has 
 brought printing into the world, and knowledge is so 
 plentifully diffused through our nation, at so cheap a 
 rate, it is a pity that any children should be born and 
 brought up in civilized states without the skill of reading ; 
 and especially since by this means every one may see 
 with his own* eyes what God requires of him in order 
 to eternal happiness. 
 
 The art of writing is also exceedingly useful, and is 
 now grown so very common, that the greatest part of 
 children may attain it at an easy rate ; by this means we 
 communicate our thoughts and all our affairs to our 
 friends at ever so great a distance ; we tell them our 
 wants, our sorrows, and our joys, and interest them in 
 our concerns as tliough they were near us. We main- 
 tain correspoiidence and traffic with persons in distant 
 nations, and tiie wealth and grandeur of all nations is 
 maintained by this means. By the art of writing, we 
 treasure up ail things that concern us in a safe reposi- 
 tOi\v, and as ofti^n as we please, by consulting our pa- 
 per records, we renew our remembrance of things that 
 relate to this life or the life to come ; and why should 
 any of the children of men be debarred from this pri- 
 vilege, if it may be attained at a cheap and easy rate, 
 without enti'e'.ichiog upon other duties of life, and 
 without omitting any morenecebsary business that may 
 belont; to their station ? 
 
 I might add here also, true spelling is such a part of 
 knowledge as children ougijt to be acquainted with, 
 since it is a matter of shame and ridicule in so polite an 
 age as ours, when persons who have loared to handle 
 the pen cannot write three or four words together 
 without a mistake or blunder ; and when they put let- 
 ters together in such an awkward and ignorant manner. 
 
OF THE MIND. 299 
 
 tliat it is hard to make sense of them, or to teli what 
 they mean. 
 
 Arithmetic, or the art of numbers, is, as was observ- 
 ed before, to be reckoned also a necessary part of a 
 good education. Without some degrees of this know- 
 ledge, there is indeed no traffic among men. And es- 
 pecially is it more needful at present, since the world 
 deals much more upon trust and credit than it did in 
 fi>rraer times ; and therefore the art of keeping accounts 
 is made, in some measure, necessary to persons, even 
 in meaner stations of life, below the rank of merchants 
 or great traders. A little knowledge of the art of ac- 
 counts, is also needful, in some degree, in order to take 
 a true fKU'vey, and make a just judgment of the com- 
 mon expences of a person or a family, but this part of 
 Jearning in the various degrees of it, is more or less use- 
 ful and needful, according to the different stations and 
 businesses for whichtchiidren are designed. 
 
 As thf> sons of a family should be educated in the 
 knowledge of writing, reading, spelling and accounts, 
 so neither should the daughters be trained up without 
 them. Reading is as needful for one sex as the other ; 
 nor should j^irls be forbid to handle the pen, or to cast up 
 a few figures, since it may be very mucn for their advan- 
 tage in almost all circumstances of life, except in the 
 very lowest rank of servitude or hard labour. And 1 
 beg leave here to entreat the female youth, especially 
 those of better circumstances in the world, to maintain 
 their skill in writing which they have already learned, 
 by taking every occasion to exercise it ; and I would 
 fain persuade them to take pains in acquainting them- 
 selves with true spelling, the want of which is one 
 rcMson why many of them are ashamed to write ; and 
 they are not ashamed to own and declare this, as though 
 it were a just and sufficient excuse for neglecting and 
 posing the use of the pen. 
 
SOO IMPROVEMENT 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Of Trade or Employment. 
 
 M.N a good education it is required also tliat children, in 
 the common ranks of life, be brought up to the know- 
 ledge of some proper business or employment for their 
 lives ; some trade or traffic, artifice or manufacture, by 
 which they may support their exf)enc.es, and procure 
 for themselves the necessaries of life, and by which 
 they may be enabled to provide for their families in 
 due time. In some of the eastern nations, even persons 
 of high rank are obliged to be educated in some em- 
 ployment or profession ; and perhaps that practice has 
 many advantages in it; it engages their younger years 
 in labour and diligence, and secures from the mischiev- 
 ous effects of sloth, idleness, vanity, and a thousand 
 temptations. 
 
 In our nation I confess it is a custom to educate the 
 children of noblemen, and the eldest sons of the gentry 
 to no proper business or profession, but only to an ac- 
 quaintance with someof the ornaments and accomplish- 
 ments of life, which I shall mention immediately. But 
 perhaps it would be far happier for some families, if 
 the sons were brought up to business, and kept to the 
 practice of it, than to have them exposed to the per- 
 nicious inconveniences of a sauntering and idle life, and 
 the more violent impulse of all the corrupt inclinations 
 of youth. 
 
 However, it is certain that the far greater part of 
 mankind must bring up their children some, to some 
 regular business or profession, whereby they may suig- 
 tain their lives and support a family, and become useful 
 members to the state. Now in the choice of such a 
 profession or employment for children many things are 
 to be consulted. 
 
 (I.) The circumstances and estate of the parent; 
 whether it will reach to place out the child as an ap- 
 prentice, to provide for him materials for his business 
 or trade, ana to support him till he shall be able to 
 maintain himself by his profession. Sometimes the 
 
OF THE MIND. 501 
 
 ambition of the parent and the child hath fixed on a 
 trade far above their circumstances ; in consequence of 
 which the child hath been exposed to many inconveni- 
 ences, and the parents to many sorrows. 
 
 (2.) The capacity and talents of the child must also 
 be considered. If it be a profession of hard labour 
 hath the child a healthy and firm constitution, and 
 strength of body equal to the work ? If it be a profes- 
 sion that requires the exercise of fancy, skill and judg- 
 ment, or much study and contrivance, then the ques- 
 tion will be, hath the lad a genius capable of thinking 
 well, a bright imagination, a solid judgment? Is he able 
 to endure such an application of mind as is necessary 
 for the employment? 
 
 (3.) The temper and inclination of the child must be 
 brought into this consultation, in order to determine a 
 proper business for Ufe. If the daily labour and busi- 
 ness of a man be not agreeable to him, he can never 
 hope to manage it with any great advantage or success, 
 I knew a bricklayer who professed that he had always 
 an aversion to the smell of mortar ; and I was ac- 
 quainted once with a lad who began to learn Greek 
 at school, but he complained it did not agree with his 
 constitution. I think the first of these ought to have 
 been brought up to work in glass or timber, or any 
 thing rather than bricks ; as for the other (to my best 
 remembrance) he was wisely disposed of to a calling 
 wherein he had nothing to do with Greek. 
 
 And here I would beg leave to desire, that none 
 might be encourai^ed to pursue any of the learned pro- 
 fessions, that is, divinity, law, or physic, who have not 
 the si^ns of a good genius, wlio are not patient of long 
 attention and close application to study ; who have not 
 a peculiar delight in that profession which they choose 
 and withal a pretty finn constitution of body ; for 
 much study is a weariness to the flesh, and vigour of 
 nature is sooner impaired by laborious thoughtful ness, 
 than by the labour of the limbs. 
 
 (4.) It should be also the solicitous and constant 
 care of parents, when they place out their children int 
 the world, to seek out masters for them who profess 
 serious religion, who practise all moral virtues, and 
 keep good order and good hours in their family. The 
 
302 niPROVEMENT 
 
 neglect of this concern has been the ruin of a thousand 
 youths in our days ; and notwithstanding the sensible 
 tnischief arising from this negligence, yet there is stiil 
 too little care taken in a matter of so great import- 
 ance.* 
 
 Thus much for this part of the education of sons. 
 But you will say then, w hat business of life must daugh- 
 ters be brought up to ? I must confess, when I have 
 seen so many of this sex who have lived well in the 
 time of their childhood, grievously exposed to many 
 hardships and poverty on the death of their parents, I 
 have often wished there were more of the callings or 
 employments of life peculiarly appropriated to women, 
 and that they were regularly educated in them, that 
 there might be a better provision made for their sup- 
 port. What if all the garments which are worn by 
 women were so limited and restrained in the manu- 
 facture of them, that they should all be made only by 
 their own sex? This would go a great way toward re- 
 lief in this case : and what if some of the easier labours 
 of life were reserved for them only ? But this is not 
 my province. 
 
 However it may be as to this matter, it is the cus- 
 tom of the nation, and indeed it hath been the custom 
 of most nations, and ages, to educate daughters in the 
 knowledge of things that relate to the affairs of the 
 household, to spin and to use the needle, both for mak» 
 ing garments, and for the ornaments of embroidery ; 
 they have been generally employed in the preparation 
 of food, in the regular disposal of the affairs of the 
 house, for the conveniences and accommodations of 
 human litV;, in the furniture of the rooms and the ele- 
 gancies of entertainment. " Sarah made ready three 
 measures of meal and kneaded it, and made cakes 
 upon the hearth. Gen. xviii. 6. And the women of 
 Israel that were wise hearted did spin with their hands 
 both blue, purple, scarlet, and fine linen for the taber- 
 
 * This danger arises in a great degree from the immoderate love of plea- 
 sure that so oreneraily prevails, and leads masters into parlies and en- 
 gagements, especially on the Lord's day; which not only occasions the 
 neglect of religious instruction and family prayer on the evening of it, 
 but sets an example to servants which they think themselves authorized 
 to folio\\', tboa^'u i; be jeneraily to their own destruction. 
 
OF THE MIND, SQS 
 
 wacle. Exod. xxxv. 25. Women shall bake your bread. 
 JLev. xxvi. 16. Women sew pillows and make ker- 
 chiefs." Ezek. xiii. 18. which words, though perhaps 
 they are a metaphor in that text, yet denote the office 
 or work of women. " And Dorcas maa(i coats and 
 garments foi- the poor." Acts ix. 36, 39. I might cite 
 many ancient Heathen authors to prove the same 
 thing among the Greeks and Romans, if it were need- 
 ful. 
 
 Some of these things are the constant labours and 
 cares of women in our day, whereby they maintain 
 themselves ; the most laborious parts of them belong 
 to the poor. And it is the opinion of the best judges, 
 that even in superior and wealthy circumstances, 
 every daughter should be so far instructed in them, as 
 to know when they are performed aright, that the ser- 
 vants may not usurp too much power, and impose on 
 the ignorance of the mistress. Nature and Providence 
 seem to have designed these offices for the sex in all 
 ages and in all nations, because, while the men are en- 
 gaged in harder and more robust labours, and are often 
 called abroad on business, the women are more gene- 
 rally accustomed to keep house and dwell at home ; 
 and the word of God, as well as the custom of human 
 )ife, recommends it. Titus ii. 5. 1 Tim. v. 14. 
 
 ^ SECTION VI. 
 
 Rules of Prudence. 
 
 All children should have some instruction given 
 them in the conduct of human life, some necessary 
 rules of prudence, by which they may regulate th.e 
 management of their own affairs, 'and their behaviour 
 towards their fellow creatures. Where all other sorts 
 of knowledge are conferred upon children, if this be 
 wanting, they make but a contemptible figure in the 
 world, and plunge themselves into many inconveniences. 
 Some of these rules of prudence are of a general 
 natwre, ?ind necessary at all times, and upon all occa- 
 sions ; others are more particular, and are proper to be 
 used according to the various occurrences of life. 
 
304 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 If I were to inquire what are the foundations of hu- 
 man prudence, I should rank them under these three 
 heads : 
 
 1. A knowledge of ourselves. Here every on6 
 fhould be taught to consider within himself, what is my 
 temper and natural inclinations ? What are my most 
 powerful appetites and my prevailing passions ? What 
 are my chief talents and capacities, if 1 have any at 
 all ? What are the weaknesses and follies to which I 
 am most liable, especially in the days of youth ? What 
 are the temptations and dangers that attend me ? What 
 are my circumstances in the Avorld, and what my vari- 
 ous relations to mankind round about me ? What are 
 my constant and what my occasional duties? What 
 are the inward or outward advantages that attend me, 
 or the disadvantages under which 1 labour. A wise, 
 a just survey of all these things, and keeping them al- 
 ways in mind, will be of unspeakable use to us in the 
 conduct of life, that we may set our chief guard upon 
 our weak side, and where our greatest dangers lie ; that 
 we may employ our talents aright, and seize all advan- 
 tages to improve them for the best purpose, and 
 proceed in the shortest way to piety, usefulness and 
 peace. 
 
 2. ^he knowledge of mankind is also necessary to 
 -acquTre prudence. And here young persons should 
 not only be taught Avhat is the general nature and ca- 
 pacity, the virtues and the vices, and the follies of pian- 
 Kind ; but they should be informed also, or at least 
 should be taught to observe more particularly, what 
 are the peculiar tempors, appetites, passions, powers, 
 good and evil qualities, of the persons with whom they 
 have most to do in the world ; that they may learn to 
 behave wisely with regard to others, and that they may 
 make a proper improvement of all the brighter and 
 darker characters which they observe amongst men, 
 both for their own advantage and for the benefit of 
 their fellow creatures. This may have a happy influ- 
 ence to lead them to avoid the vices and follies which 
 have plunged others into mischief, to imitate the virtues 
 of those who have behaved well in life, and to secure 
 themselves from any dangers and miseries as well as 
 to pity the weaknesses and sorrows of mankind, and 
 
OF THE MIND. 805 
 
 S. The knowledge of the things of the world, and 
 the various affairs of human life, must be included as 
 one of the chief foundations of prudence. It would 
 be endless to run over particulars of this kind ; but in 
 a special manner young persons should apply them- 
 selves to know those things which most nearly concern 
 therti, and which have the most immediate relation to 
 their own business and duty, to their own interest and 
 welfare ; and it is a valuable part of wisdom to net,lect 
 other things, and not to waste our time and spirits in 
 them, when they stand in any competition with our 
 proper and most important work, whether Ave considei* 
 ourselves as men or as christians. 
 
 Solomon tells us, Eccles. iii. 1, 17, and viii. 5, 6. 
 There is both time and judgment for every work, and 
 for every purpose under the heaven ; and that a wise 
 man's heart discerneth both time and judgment ; that 
 is, he judgeth well concerning what is to be done, and 
 the time when to do it ; and therefore the misery of 
 man is great upon him, becausp he knows not this time 
 and judgment, he doth neither discern what is proper to 
 be done, nor the proper season of doing it. Prudence 
 consists in judging well what is to be said, and what is 
 to be done, on every new occasion ; when to lie still. 
 ^nd when to be active ; when to keep silence, and Avhen 
 to speak ; what to avoid, and what to pursue ; how to 
 act in every difficulty ; what means to make use of to 
 compass such an end ; how to behave in every circum- 
 stance of life, and in all companies ; how to gain the 
 favour of mankind in order to promote our own hap- 
 piness, and to do the most service to God and the most 
 good to men, according to that station we possess, and 
 those opportunities which we enjoy. 
 
 For this purpose there is no better book than the 
 Proverbs of Solomon. Several of the first chapters 
 seem to be written for young men, under the name of 
 Solomon's son ; and all the rest of them should be 
 made familiar to youth by their frequent converse with 
 them, and treasuring them up in their head and heart. 
 
 Among human writings of this kind, perhaps the 
 
 book called Ecclesiasticus, though it be among the 
 
 apocryphal writings, is equal to the best ot the 
 
 aocients. And among the moderns, I know not a bet- 
 
 C c 2 
 
306 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 ter collection than the little book of Directions, Coun- 
 cils and Advices, lately published by Dr. Fuller for the 
 use of his son ; though I could wish he had rendered 
 it more universally acceptable to all readers, by avoid- 
 ing some severities on the other sex ; and that he had 
 spared his little railleries on the name of saints, though 
 those offensive sentences are but few. 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 The Ornamtnts and Accomplishments of Life. 
 
 JL HE last part of instruction which 1 included in tho 
 idea of a good education, is an instruction of youth in 
 some of the useful ornaments and accomplishments of 
 life. 
 
 It has been the custom of our nation, for persons of 
 the middle and the lower ranks of life, who design 
 their children for trades and manufactures, to send them 
 to the Latin and Greek schools. There they wear out 
 four or tive years in learning a number of strange 
 words, that will be of very little use to them in all the 
 following affairs of their station ; and this very learning 
 also generally taught in a very tiresome and most irra- 
 tional method, wheathey are forced to learn Latin by 
 grammar rules written in that unknown tongue. When 
 they leave the school, they usually forget what they 
 have learned, and the chief advantage they gain by it 
 to spell and pronounce hard words better when they 
 meet them in English ; whereas this skill of spelling 
 might be attained in a far shorter time, and at an easier 
 rate, by other methods,* and much of life might be 
 saved and improved lo better purposes. 
 
 As for the sons of those who enjoy more plentiful 
 circumstances in the world, they may be instructed in 
 the Latin and Greek languages for several valuable 
 ends in their station ; and especially those who design 
 the learned professions ought thoroughly to understand 
 them ; and such as pursue the study of divinity must 
 be acquainted also with Hebrew and Chaldec, that 
 they may read the Old Testament in its original lan- 
 guage, 33 well as the New. 
 
 * See my Art of Reading and Writing, Chap. x\. 
 
OF THE MINI>. m 
 
 The French is now a days also esteemed an accom- 
 plishment to both sexes. U they hare time enough, 
 which they know not how to employ better, and a good 
 memory, I would not forbid it. There are several good 
 books written in that language, which are not unworthy 
 of our perusal ; and there are many words now intro- 
 duced in the English language, borrowed and derived 
 from thence, as well as from the Latin and Greek ; sf» 
 that it may not be improper for an English gentleman 
 to learn those tongues, that he may understand his own 
 the better. I add also, that if persons have much ac- 
 quaintance with the French nation, or have occasion to 
 converse with foreigners at court or in the city, or if 
 they design to travel abroad, the French is a necessary 
 tongue, because it is so much spoken in Europe, and 
 especially in courts. But otherwise there are so many 
 of the valuable writings of French authors perpetually 
 translated into English, that it is a needless thing to go 
 through much difficulty, or take much pains in attaining 
 it. I am inclined to believe, that, except in the cases 
 above mentioned, few have found the profit answer the 
 labour. As for those persons who are bred up to traf- 
 fic with other nations, they must necessarily learn the 
 language of those nations : and this I reckon not among 
 their accomplishments, but consider it as rather a part 
 of their proper business in life. 
 
 In short it is a thing of far greater value and impor- 
 tance, that youth should be perfectly well skilled in 
 reading, writing, and speaking their native tongue, in a 
 proper, a polite, and graceful manner, than in toiling 
 among foreign languages. It is of more worth and ad- 
 vantage to gentlemen and ladies to have an exact knowl- 
 edge of what is decent, just and elegant in English, than 
 to ^^e a critic in foreign tongues. The very knowledge 
 of foreign words should be improved to this purpose ; 
 and in order to obtain this accomplishment, they should 
 frequently converse with those persons and books 
 which are esteemed polite and elegant in their kind. 
 
 Thus far concerning the knowledge of words. But 
 the knowledge of things is of much more importance. 
 
 1. The young gentry of both sexes should be a little 
 acquainted with logic, that they may learn to obtain 
 clear ideas ; to judge byreason and the nature of things ; 
 
508 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 to banish the prejudices ofinfcincy, custom, and humouf ;* 
 to argue ch)sely and justly on an}' subject, and to cast 
 their thoughts and affairs into a proper and easy method* 
 
 2. Several parts of mathematical learning are also 
 accessary ornaments of the mind, and not without real 
 advantage ; and many of these are so agreeable to the 
 fancy, tRat youth will be entertained and pleased in ac- 
 quiring the knowledge of them. 
 
 Besides the common skill in accounts which is need- 
 ful for a trader, there is a variety of pretty and useful 
 rules and practices in arithmetic, to which a gentleman 
 should be no stranger; and if his genius lie that way, a 
 little insij^ht into algebra would be no disadvantage to 
 him. It is fit that young people of any figure in the 
 world, should see some of the springs and clues whereby 
 skilful men, by plain rules of reason, trace out the most 
 deep, distant and hidden questions ; and Avhereby they 
 find certain answers to those inquiries ; which at first 
 view seem to lie without the ken of mankind, and be- 
 yond the reach of human knowledge. It was for want 
 of a little more general acquaintance with mathemat- 
 ical learning in the world, that a good algebraist and a 
 geometrician were counted conjurers a century ago, and 
 people applied to them to seek for lost horses and stolen 
 goods 
 
 They should know something of geometrj- , so far at 
 least as to understand the names of the various .lines 
 and angles, surfaces and solids ; toknow what is meant 
 by a right line or a curve, a right angle or an oblique, 
 whether acute or obtuse ; how the quantity of angles is 
 jneasured, what is a circle, a semicircle, an arch, a ijiiad- 
 rant, a degree and minute, adiameterand radius ? What 
 we mean by a triangle, a square, a parallelogram, a pol- 
 ygon, a cube, a pyi-amid, a prism, a cone, an elipsiri, an 
 oval, an hyperbola, a parabola, &lc. and to know some 
 of the most general properties of angles, triangles, 
 squares, circles, cic. The world is now grow n so learned 
 in mathematicHi science, that this sort of lang;uage is 
 often used in co* nion writings and in conversation, far 
 beyond what it v as in the days of our fathers. And 
 besides, without some knoivlecige of this kind, we can- 
 not make aoy further progress towards an acquaintance 
 with the arts of surveying, measuring, geography and 
 
OF THE MIND. SOV 
 
 astronomy, which are so entertauihig and so useful an 
 accomplishment to persons of a polite education. 
 
 Geography and astronomy are exceedingly delight- 
 ful studies. The knowu^dge of the lines and circles of 
 the globes of heaven and earth, is counted so necessary 
 in our age, that no person of either sex is now esteemed 
 to have hadan elegant education withoutit Even trades- 
 men and the actOLS in common life, should in my opin- 
 ion, in their younger years, learn something of these 
 sciences, instead of vainly wearing out seven years of 
 drudgery in Greek and Latin. 
 
 It is of considerable advantage as well as delight for 
 mankind to know a little of the earth on which they 
 dwell, and of the stars and vskies that surround them on 
 all sides. It is almost necessary for young persons who 
 pretend to any thing of instruction and schooling above 
 the lowest rank of people, to get a little acquaintance 
 with the several parts of the land and the sea, that they 
 may know in what quarter of the world the chief cities 
 ana countries are situated ; that at the mention of the 
 ■word Copenhagen, they may not grossly blunder and 
 expose themselves, as a certain gentleman once did by ^ 
 supposing it to be the name of some Dutch commander. 
 Without this knowledge we cannot" read any history 
 with profit, nor so much as understand any common 
 newspapers. 
 
 It is necessary also to know something of the heaveD- 
 ly bodies, and their various motions and periods of rev- 
 olution, that we may understand the accounts of time in 
 past ages, and the histories of ancient nations, as well as 
 know the reasons of day and night, summer and winter, 
 and the various appearances ;rnd places of the moon 
 and other planets. Then we shall not be terrified at 
 every eclipse, nor presage, and foretel public desolation 
 at the sight of a comet; ac shall see the sun covered 
 with darkness, and the full moon deprived of her light, 
 without forboding imaginations that the government is 
 in danger, or that the world is come to an end. This 
 will not only increase rational knowledge, and guard us 
 against foolish and ridiculous fears, but it will amuse 
 the mind most agreeably ; and it has a most happy ten- 
 dency to raise in our thoughts the noblest and most 
 
810 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 magnificent ideas of God by llie survey of his works, in 
 tlieir surprising gnindcur and divine artifice. 
 
 3. Natural philosophy, at least in the more general 
 principles and foundations of it, should be infused into 
 the minds of youth. This is a vt-ry bright ornament of 
 our rational natures, which are inclined to be inquisitive 
 into th;', causes and reasons of things. A course of phi- 
 Josophical experiments is now frequently attended by 
 the ladies as well as g, ntlenien, with no small plea- 
 sure and improvonent. God and religion may be better 
 known, and clearer ideas may be obtained of the 
 amazing wisdom of our Creator, and of the glories 
 of the life come, as well as of the things of this 
 life, by the rational learning and the knowledge of na- 
 ture that is now so much in vogue. If I were to recom- 
 mend a book or two on this subject, which may usefully 
 be read by the ladies as well as the gentlemen, I know 
 none better than Mr. Ray's Wisdom of God in the 
 Creation, Dr. Derham's Discoiuses on the same sub- 
 ject, the archbishop of Cambray's Treatise on the 
 Existence of God, at least to the fiftieth section, Ni- 
 cuinteit's Religious Philosoph«.r, and Dr. Mather's 
 Christian Philosopher. These things will enlarge and 
 refine the understanding, imi^rove the judgment, and 
 bring the faculty of reasoning into a juster exercise, evert 
 upon all manner of subjects. 
 
 . 4. History is another accomplishment of youth and 
 ornament of education. The narratives of the various 
 occurrences in nations, as well as in the lives of particu- 
 lar persons, slide into younger minds with pleasure. 
 These will furnish the soul in time with a treasure of 
 knowledge w hence to derive useful observations, infer- 
 ences and rules of conduct. These will enable us to 
 gratify our acquaintancf, by rehearsing such narratives 
 at proper seasons, and render our own company agree- 
 able and useful to mankind. 
 
 5. Nor can our education be called completely elegant 
 without something of poesy, in so very polite an age as 
 this. 
 
 While I mention some knowledge of poesy as a pro- 
 per ornament of youth, 1 would not be understood as 
 though I recommended verse making to every young 
 gentleman and lady. It is an old proverb, that poets 
 
OF THE MIND. 311 
 
 are boni, and not made. And though I have been too 
 far betrayed, by an unguarded inclination, into at- 
 tempts of this kind, in some of my former years, yet, 
 while I sometimes repent of bavini^ laid out so many 
 days and hours of a short life in writing verses, I will 
 not encourage others to practice it, unless they are blest 
 with a brighter genius, and find an insuperable bent and " 
 bias of soul that way ; and even then let it be a diver- 
 sion, and not a business. 
 
 The thing, therefore, which I here recommend to 
 persons of a polite education, is some acquaintance 
 with good verse. To read it in the best authors, to 
 learn to know, and taste, and feel a fine stanza, as well 
 as hear it, and to treasure up at>me of the richest 
 sentiments and expressions of the most admired wri- 
 ters is all that I mean in this advice. 
 
 Nor is this a mere amusement or useless embroidery 
 of the mind: It brightens and animates the fancy witri 
 a thousand beautiful images : itenriches the soul with 
 many great and sublime sentiments and refined ideas ; 
 it fills the memory with a noble variety of language, 
 and furnishes the tongue with speech and expression 
 suited to every subject. It teaches the art of describing 
 well, and of painting every thing to the life, and dress- 
 ing up all the pleasmg and the frightful scenes of na- 
 ture and providence, vice and virtue, in their proper 
 charms and horrors. It assists us in the art of persua- 
 sion ; it leads us into a pathetic manner of speech and 
 w^riting, and adds life and beauty to conversation. 
 
 Howoften have we been enabled to gild a gloomy hour 
 of life, and to soften a rough and painful occurrence, by 
 meditating and repeating the lines of some great poet ? 
 Between the colours and the harmony that belong to 
 verse, our senses and our souls are sometimes sweetly 
 entertained in a solitary retirement ; and sometimes Ave 
 entertain our friends agreeably, we regale them as with 
 music and painting at once, and gladden the whole 
 company. 
 
 But poetry hath still some sublimer powers. It 
 raisesour dying religion to a heavenly degree,andkindles 
 a flame of holy love and joy in the heart. If the memory 
 be well stored with devout songs, we shall never be at 
 loss for diviae meditation j we may exalt the praises 
 
.il£ IMPROVEMErS^T 
 
 of God and our Saviour at all times, and feel our souls 
 borne up as on the Avings of angels, fiir above this 
 dusky globe of earth, till we have lost all its flattering 
 vanities and its painful vexations. Poesy was first 
 designed for the service of religion, and dedicated to 
 the temple. Moses and David made divine and illustri- 
 luis use of it. The royal psalmist is raised on the 
 "wings of inspiration and sacred verse, far above the 
 level of the Jewish ceremonies and shadows, and con- 
 verses with heavenly things, and sheds abroad the glo- 
 ries of the future Messiah, amidst the raptures of his 
 sublime and inimitable poesy. 
 
 But it is time to descend and mention somfe of the ac- 
 complishments of animal nature. The first of this kind 
 and perhaps the nearest to poesy is the art of singing. A 
 most charming gift of the God of nature, and designed 
 for the solace of our sorrows and the improvement of 
 our joys. Those young persons w ho are blest with a 
 musical ear and voice, should have some instruction 
 bestowed on them, that they may acquire this delight- 
 ful skill. I am sorry that the' greatest part of our 
 songs, whereby young gentlemen and ladies are taught 
 to practice this art, are of the amorous kind, and some 
 of them polluted too. Will no happy genius lend a 
 helping hand to rescue music from all its defilements, 
 and to furnish the tongue with a nobler and more refi- 
 ned melody ? But singing must not be named alone. 
 
 Various harmony both of the wind and string were 
 once in use in divine worship, and that by divine ap-^ 
 pointment. It is certain then that the use of these 
 instruments in common life is no unlawful practice, 
 though the New Testament has not ordained the use 
 of it in evangelical worship. But if the voice be 
 happily capable of this art, it is preferable to all instru- 
 ments fashioned and composed by man; this is an or- 
 gan formed and tuned by God himself. It is most 
 easily kept in exercise, the skill is retained longest, and 
 the pleasure transcends all the rest. Where an ode of 
 Doble and seraphic composure is set throughout to music, 
 and sung bj' an artful voice, while the spirit at the same 
 time enjoys a devout temper, the joys of the soul and 
 the sense are unitr.d, and it approaches to the scriptural 
 ideas of the celestial state. Happy the youth wh?« 
 
OP THE MIND. 31S 
 
 kas a bright and harmonious constitution, with a pious 
 turn of soul, a cheerful spirit and a relish of sacred 
 melod)' ! He takes a frequent flight above this lower 
 world, beyond the regions of sense and time ; he joins 
 the concert of the heavenly inhabitants, and seems to 
 anticipate the business and the blessedness of eternity. 
 
 Shall I be allowed after this to mention drawing and 
 painting as. agreeable amusements for polite youth ? 
 "Where the genius leads that way, it is a noble diversion, 
 and improves the mind. Nature has her share in this, 
 as well as in poesy ; where nature inclines, let polite 
 vouth be taught to sketch a little on paper; let them 
 have at least some taste of these arts, some capacity of 
 being pleased with a curious draught, a noble paintmg,. 
 an elegant statue, and fine resemblances of nature. 
 This is an ingenious and a graceful acqiiirement. Mr. 
 Richardson's Essay on the Theory of Painting, is the 
 best book that [ know on that subject, and suratient to 
 give a young gentleman a general knowledge of the art. 
 
 Shall I now name the art of fencing, and of riding the 
 managed horse, as an accomplishment for gentlemen ? 
 These are exercises of a healthy kind, and may be 
 useful in life. Shall I speak of dancing, as a modish 
 accomplishment of both sexes ? I confess I know n© 
 evil in it. This also is a healthful exercise, and it gives 
 young persons a decent manner of appearance in com- 
 pany. It may be profitable to some good purposes, if 
 jt be well guarded against all the abuses and tempta- 
 tions that ma^ attend it. It was used of old in sacred 
 and civil rejoicings, 1 Sam. xviii. 6. 2 Sam.vi. 14. Exod. 
 XV. "20, 21 . It is certainly an advantage to have the body 
 formed early to graceful motion, to which theart of dan- 
 cing may have contributed. But where it is much belov- 
 ed and indulged, it has most sensible dangers, especially 
 mixed dancing. It leads youth too often and too early 
 mto company ; it may create too much forwardness 
 and assurance in the sex whose chief glory is their 
 modesty ; it may kindle vain and vicious inclinations, 
 and raise in young minds too great a fondness for the 
 excessive gaieties and licentious pleasures of the age.. 
 In all these aflfairs a wise parent will keep a v/atchful 
 eye upon the child, while he indulges it in these grati- 
 fications of youth and inclination i a wise pturent will 
 D d 
 
S14 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 daily observe whether the son, or the little daughter 
 begin to be too much charmed with any of the gay 
 ornaments and amusements of life ; and with a prudent 
 and sacred solicitude, will take care lest any of them 
 intrench on the more necessary, and more important 
 duties of life and religion. And according to this view 
 of things, the parent's hand will either give a looser 
 reign to the pursuit of these exercises ; or will manage 
 the propensities of the child with a needful and becom- 
 ing restraint. 
 
 But among all the accomplishments of youth, there 
 is none preferable to a decent and agreeable behaviour 
 among men, a modest freedom of speech, a soft and 
 elegant manner of address, a graceful and lovely de- 
 portment, a cheerful gravity and good humour, with a 
 mind appearing ever serene under the ruffling acci- 
 dents of human life ; add to this a pleasing solemnity 
 and reverence when the discourse turns upon any thing 
 sacred and divine, a becoming neglect of injuries, a 
 hatred of calumny and slander, a habit of speaking 
 well of others, a pleasing benevolence and readiness to 
 do good to mankind, and special compassion to the 
 miserable ; with an air and countenance, in a natural 
 and unaffected manner, expressive of all these excel- 
 lent qualifications. 
 
 Some of these, I own, are to be numbered among 
 the duties and virtues, rather than among the orna- 
 ments of mankind ; but they must be confessed to be 
 ornaments as well as virtues. They are graces in the 
 eyes of man as well as of God. These will be- 
 speak the affection of all that know us, and engage even 
 an ill natured world betimes in our favour. These 
 will enable the youth of both sexes, who are so 
 happy as to attain them, to enter upon the stage of 
 life with approbation and love, to pass through the world 
 with ease, as far as ease may be expected in so degen- 
 erate and unhappy a state of things ; to finish the 
 scenes of action on earth with applause, and to leave 
 behind them the monument of a ^ood name, when 
 their bodies sleep in the dust, and their souls dwell with 
 God. 
 
OF THE MIND. S15 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 i^ Guard against evil Infiuences from Persons and 
 Things. 
 
 XT belongs also to a good education, that children be 
 guarded and secured, as far as possible, from all evil 
 influences and unhappy impressions, which they may 
 be exposed to receive both from persons and thinjjs. I 
 shall sufficiently explain this direction by particular 
 instances. 
 
 Let not nurses or servants be suffered to fill their 
 minds with siily tales, and with senseless rhymes, many 
 of which are so absurd and ridiculous, that they will not 
 bear to be represented in a grave discourse. Tne imagi- 
 nation of young creatures is hereby flattered and deceiv- 
 ed ; their reason is grossly abused and imposed upon ; 
 and by this means they are trained up to be amused 
 with follies and nonsense, rather than to exercise 
 their understanding, which is the glory of human 
 nature. 
 
 Let not any persons that are near them terrify their 
 tender minds with dismal stories of witches and ghosts, 
 of devils and evil spirits, or faries and bugbears in the 
 dark. This hath had a most mischievous effect on 
 some children, and hath fixed in their constitutions such 
 a rooted slavery and fear, that they have scarcely dared 
 to be left alone all their lives, especially in the night. 
 These stories have made such a deep and frightful im- 
 pression on their tender fancies, that it hath enervated 
 their souls, it hath broken their spirits early, it hath 
 grown up with them and mingled with their religion, 
 it hath laid a w^-etched foundation for melancholy and 
 distracting sorrows. Let these sort of informations be 
 reserved for their firmer years, and let them not be told 
 in their hearing, till they can better judge what truth or 
 reality there is in th^m, and be made sensible how 
 much is owing to romance and fiction. 
 
 Nor let their little hearts be frightened at three or 
 four years old with shocking and bloody histories, with 
 massacres and martyrdoms, with cuttings and burnings, 
 "with the images of horrible and barbarous murders, 
 
516 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 with racks and redhot pincers, with engines of torment 
 and cruelty, with manghd limbs, and carcases drenched 
 in gore. It is time enough, when tlieir spirits are grown 
 a little firmer, to acquaint them with these madnesses 
 and miseries of human nature. There is no need that 
 the history of the holy confessors and martyrs should 
 be set before their thoughts so early, in all their most 
 ghastly shapes and colours. These things, when they 
 are a little older, may be of excellent use to discover 
 to them the wicked and bloody principles of perse- 
 cution, both among the heathens and the papists ; and 
 to teach them the power of the grace of Christ, in 
 supporting these poor sufferers under all the torments 
 which they sustained for the love of God and the truth. 
 Let their ears be ever kept from all immodest stories, 
 and from wanton songs ; from riddles and puns with 
 double meanings and foul intentions; let them not be 
 suffered to read wanton jests or amorous romances ; 
 and due care should be taken to remove all books out 
 of their way that may defile their imagination, orteach 
 them the language, or the sentiments of impurity, 
 Nor let their eyes be entertained with lewd and un- 
 clean pictures, and images of thintr;s or actions that 
 are not fit to be exposed. These things indeed have 
 too often an unhappy influence to corrupt the fancy 
 and tne manners ; antl in liper ye irs have been the oc- 
 casion of numberless mischiefs ; but especially they 
 should be kept faraway from the sight and heiring 
 of children, lest too deep and dangerous impcesisions 
 be made m tliose early years of life. Noihi.ig 
 but what is chaste, pure, 'and innocent, should come 
 within the reach of their eyes and ears. Even the 
 common necessities and actions of nature, should 
 be always expressed before them in the most modest 
 forms of speech that our mother tongue can furnish us 
 with. In this respect, as the po*^t says, children should 
 be treated with great reverence. 
 
 Maxima debelur pueris revereniia. 
 
 It is confessed that hooks of anatomy, and other 
 parts of necessary science, are proper ti> be written ; 
 and these may be consulted by persons who are grown 
 up to a due age, especially by those whose profi^ssion re- 
 
OF THE MIND. 517 
 
 i^uires it. There is also some necessity of foul narra- 
 tives, where foul crimes are committed, and ought to 
 be publicly exposed and brought to justice and punish- 
 ment. As the affairs of mankind stand, these things 
 cannot always be avoided ; but there is no manner of 
 necessity that children should read them, or rash 
 unguarded youth. 
 
 For some of the reasons before mentioned, there 
 should be a wise conduct in showing children what 
 parts of the bible they should read ; for though the 
 wordof God expresseth all things with due decency, yet 
 there are some things, which have been found necessary 
 to be spoken of in scripture, both in the laws of Mo- 
 ses, and in the representation of the wickedness of the 
 Gentiles, in the New Testament, in which adult persons 
 have been concerned, which there is no necessity for 
 children to read or hear, and they may be passed over 
 or omitted among them. The Jews were wont to with- 
 hold Solomon's Songs from their children till they 
 were thirty years old ; and the late pious and prudent 
 bishop Tillotson, in a manuscript which I have seen, 
 wishes that those parts of the bible, wherein there are 
 some of the affairs of mankind expressed too naturally, 
 as he calls it, were omitted in the public lessons of the 
 church : I think they may as well be excepted also out 
 of the common lessons of children, and out of the daily 
 course of reading in famil}'^ worship. 
 
 Let parents take as much care as they can in the 
 choice of companions and playfellows for their sons 
 and daughters. It would be a happy thing if children, 
 who are bred up in schools, could be secured from the 
 company and evil influence of other children, who 
 curse and swear, who take the name of God in vain, 
 and use filthy and unclean language. Masters and 
 mistresses should be very watchful and strict in their 
 inquiries into the behaviour of their scholars of both 
 sexes when they are out of their sight, that if it were 
 possible, there might not be one among them whose lips 
 are impure or profane ; for one diseased sheep may 
 infect the whole flock. However, where children 
 find such immorality practised by any of tiieir fel- 
 lows, they should be taught to show their utmost ab- 
 horrence of it, and speedily forsake such pernicious 
 company. 
 
 D d 2 
 
I^li IMPROVEMENT 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 A Guard set on the Sports and Diversions of Chit- 
 dren. 
 
 As parents should take care to have their children 
 employed in proper learning and business, so they 
 should not think it beneath them to concern themselves 
 a little about their sports and recreations. Human na- 
 ture, especially in younger years cannot be constantly 
 kept intent on work, learning or labour. There must 
 be some intervals of pleasure to give a loose to the 
 mind, and to refresh the natural spirits. Too long 
 and intense confinement to one thing is ready to 
 overtire the spirits of youth, and to weaken the springs 
 of activity by excessive fatigue. It is an old simile on 
 this occasion, and a very just one, that a bow kept al- 
 ways bent will grow feeble and lose its force. The al- 
 ternate successions of business and diversion, preserve 
 the body and soul of children in the happiest temper; 
 and learning is more closely pursued, and work better 
 done, after some agreeable relaxations. The young 
 creatures apply themselves to their business with 
 new vigour after the enjo5'^ment of some pleasurable re- 
 lease. 
 
 I confess, it would be of considerable advantage, if 
 the various parts of learning and business in which 
 children are employed, were so happily contrived, that 
 one might be, as it were, a relaxation or diversion, when 
 the mind is tired with the other ; and if children have 
 a taste and relish of reading and improvement of the 
 mind, there is a rich variety of entertainment to be 
 found in books of poetry, history, accounts of the 
 wonders of art and nature, as well as ingenious practi- 
 ces in mechanical and mathematical affairs. It is hap- 
 piest indeed, where this relish is the gift of nature; yet 
 children may be trained up, by wise and alluring me- 
 thods, to delight in knowledge, and to choose such sort 
 of recreations, especially in winter nights and rainy sea- 
 sons, when they cannot enjoy the more active diver- 
 sions abroad. Yet besides these; some other sorts of 
 
OF THE MIND. SIS 
 
 sports will generally be found necessary for children of 
 almost all dispositions. 
 
 And their sports ought to be such as are in some 
 measure chosen by themselves, that they may be mat- 
 ter of delight ; yet still under the regulation of the 
 eye and prudence of a parent. No sort of play should 
 be permitted, wherein sacred things become a matter 
 of jest or merriment. No sport should be indulged 
 wherein foul language, ill names, or scandal are practi- 
 sed ; wherein there is any violation of modesty, or of 
 the rules of decency and cleanliness. Nothing must be 
 suflered wherein there is any breach of the moral pre- 
 cepts of the law of God ; wherein cozening or cheating, 
 falsehood or lying, are practised or allowed. They 
 should be conhned to honesty, justice, truth and goodr 
 ness, even in their very play. 
 
 They should not be permitted to use such sporting 
 as^may tend to discompose their spirits, disorder their 
 nature, injure their flesh, prejudice their health, break 
 their limbs, or do mishief to themselves, or each other. 
 This should rather be the play of dogs, or horses, thaa 
 of children. 
 
 Nor should they ever be allow^ed to practice those 
 diversions that carry an idea of barbarity and cruelty in 
 them, though it be but to brute creatures, they should 
 not set up cocks to be banged with cudgels thrown at 
 them about Shrove tide ; nor delight in giving a tedious 
 lingering death to a young litter of dogs or cats, that 
 may be appointed to be destroyed or drowned, lest 
 they multiply too much in a house, nor should they 
 take pleasure in pricking, cutting or mangling young 
 birds which thej^ have caught, nor using any savage 
 and bloody practices, towards any creatures whatsoev- 
 er, lest their hearts grow hard and unrelenting, and 
 they learn in time to practise these cruelties on their 
 own kind, and to murder and torture their fellow mor- 
 tals, or at least to be indifferent to their pain and distress, 
 so as to occasion it without remorse. 
 
 They should never be suffered to game for money, 
 nor even for their own toys or play things, if they are 
 costly and expensive : many sore inconveniences in 
 riper years arige from such indulgencies. And indeed no 
 
sm IMPROVEMENT 
 
 recreations should be accounted lawfu], but those in 
 which they can with courage recommend themselves 
 to Gud and desire his blessing upon them. 
 
 Those children who are kept pretty close to learning 
 in a school, should be directed to pursue their recrea- 
 tions, as much as may be, in the open air ; and to exer- 
 cise their limbs with vigour ana activity, that their 
 growth and health may not be impaired by study, and 
 too much confinement to a book. But in very foul 
 weather, or in long winter evenings, as I hinted before, 
 they may be taught to seek such diversions as may at 
 once refresh and improve their minds. 
 
 For want of this in some families, the game of 
 drawghts and chess are practised, and some other little 
 sports upon a chess board, without any stakes or aim at 
 gain, beyond the mere pleasure of victory. In other 
 houses cards and dice are introduced, for want of better 
 recreations. The former of these, namely, draughts 
 and chess, are innocent enough, and may wear off a 
 heavy hour, when the mind or body are unfit for busi- 
 ness ; the latter have had the general censure of our 
 wise and pious fathers, and there have been most unhap- 
 py effects attending them ; and indeed, these games are 
 seldom used without depositing too much money at 
 the stake ; and this tends to engage the passions with 
 greater vehemence than the nature of a recreation 
 can require, or should admit. But I leave it to those 
 who are more skilful in casuistic divinity, to prove 
 them absolutely unlawful in the very nature of the 
 game. 
 
 However that be, I have often earnestly wished, that 
 instead of these games, there were some more profita- 
 ble sports invented for a long evening, for a dull hour, or 
 a rainy season ; and I am well assured, that if some in- 
 genious mind, which is well skilled in mathematical 
 learning and in games, would but take pains to contrive 
 some such diversions, there might be a much better 
 account given of the hours of leisure and remission of 
 business by persons of both sexes, and of all ages, than 
 can be at present, for want of such useful and improv- 
 ing recreations. 
 
 What if cards and dice should be proved to be ever 
 so lawful in themselves, yet there might be various in- 
 
OF THE MIND. 521 
 
 ventions, of much more advantage to knowledge and 
 virtui^, placed in the room of them. May not some lit- 
 tle tablets of pasteboard be made, in imitation of 
 cards, which might teach the unlearned several parts 
 of grammar, philosophy, geometry, geography, astron- 
 omy, kc. 
 
 What if on one side of these tablets or charts, a 
 town or city were named and described, and on the 
 other side, the country, province and kingdom where 
 that town stands, with some geographical or historical 
 remark on it ; and whosoever in play draws the chart 
 with the town on it, should be obliged to tell the coun* 
 try where it stands, and the remark on it ? 
 
 What if on one side were a geometrical figure, and oi^ 
 the other the demonstration of some property belong- 
 ing to it ? 
 
 What if one side bore the name or figure of any 
 piece of money, and the other all the multiplies of it 
 oy the nine digits, or as far as twelve ? This would be 
 useful for children brought up to a trade? 
 
 What if the figure of some plant, animal, engine or 
 any thing else in the worl i of nature or art, were print- 
 ed on one side, and on the name of the thing, 
 which should be required to be spelt right by yojung 
 scholars when they see the figure, in order to teach 
 them the art of spelling. And if to this were added 
 some beautiful expression or description of the thing, 
 taken out of our best English poets, to be repeated 
 by him who draws the chart which has the ligure 
 oifi it ? 
 
 Or if on one side were a word in English, and on the 
 other the same thing expressed in Latin, Greek, or 
 French, for such who learn those languages? 
 
 Or if single names of famous men and women were 
 on one side, and the reverse contained the history, or 
 some short account of those persons whose names 
 were so famous ? 
 
 What if in a sheet of paper or a two penny book, 
 were written a hundred proverbs or wise sayings, col- 
 lected out of moralists, ancient and modern, relating to 
 all the virtues and vices ; and a collection of the most 
 eminent examples of these virtues and vices were su- 
 peradded ; and if one or more solid bodies of wood, 
 
S2£ IMPROVEMENT 
 
 of sixteen, twenty or thirty two flat sides were formed, 
 with the name of one virtue or vica inscribed on each 
 side ; and by the rolling of this many sided toy, the 
 uppermost word or name should be an'indication what 
 proverb or what example to require ? 
 
 There have been I confess, several sorts of cards in- 
 vented with proverbs, with various learned figures and 
 mathematical devices upon them ; but, as far as 1 can 
 learn, these have been but mere pictures and ornaments 
 to thp hearts and diamonds ; these learned devices and 
 figures have had no share in the game ; the cards are 
 used like common cards still, without any manner of 
 improvement of any of the gamesters in these sciences. 
 But Avhat I propose is a contrivance to render these 
 words or figures, or sentences, the very implements or 
 engines of the sport itself, without so much as the form 
 of any spade, or club, or heart, or diamond drawn upon 
 the chart or tablet. 
 
 Some of these exercises and diversions, if happily 
 contrived, may not only be fit to entertain children in 
 their younger years, but may usefully amuse them 
 whet) they are grown up toward manly age. 
 
 For my part 1 own myself to be so much unskilled 
 in the various games used among us, that I am not fit 
 to contrive, nor capable of inventing such useful pas- 
 time. But 1 wish some of the sons of ingenuity had 
 science and virtue so much at heart, as to attempt such 
 a service to mankind. And parents should seek some 
 sort of delightful employments or recreations for the 
 leisure hours of their sons and their daughters, 
 when they are in the stage of 5-outh, that they may 
 be the more easily withheld from those diversions of 
 the present age which are so fashionable and yet so 
 dangerous. 
 
 Among these dangerous and modish diversions, I 
 cannot forbear to mention midnight assemblies, play- 
 houses, gaming tables, and masquerades. Let parents 
 who would willingly see their children walking in the 
 paths of piety and virtue, endeavour to guard their in- 
 clinations from these enticing amusements. The reli- 
 gion and conscience of many a well inclined youth 
 have been exposed to greatand imminent danger among 
 those scenes of vanity and folly, to say no worse. My 
 
OF THE MIND. 323 
 
 business is not to rail at them, though some of my 
 readers will hardly forgive me that 1 deal with them 
 so tenderly, and give them names of so soft a sound. 
 But this must be confessed, that if persons of piety 
 frequent them, they too much risk their character and 
 their innocence, and expose their virtue and, their piety 
 to too great and needless temptations ; or at least by 
 giving the sanction of their presence at such places, and 
 on such occasions, they make themselves accessary to 
 the ruin of those who may b6 less fortified against their 
 ensnaring tendency. 
 
 Yet some of these diversions and amusements are 
 so charming to many a young thoughtless creature, 
 that no risk is thought too great to run, if they may 
 but please their ears and their eyes, and gratify their 
 idle and vain inclinations. Hence these houses of 
 pleasure are filled and frequented ; hence the theatres 
 are crowded and gaming tables attended by multitudes 
 of youths whose parents ^ave enjoyed the blessing of 
 a stricter education ; and though their estate can scarce- 
 ly support their irregular expense, yet they gratify their 
 children in these hazardous recreations, and take no 
 pains to cure them of this pernicious folly. 
 
 But the children of our age will pertly reply, " What, 
 must we live like nobody ? Must we turn old Puritans 
 again ? Must we look like fools in company, where 
 there is scarcely any discourse but of plays, operas, 
 and masquerades, or cards, dice, and midnight assem- 
 blies ? And pray what sin is there in any of them ?" 
 
 To this 1 answer, that 1 am very sorry to find that 
 the children of religious parents choose and delight in 
 company where these things are the chief subject of 
 conversation. I fear, lest God and virtue, and the im- 
 portant things of another world are utterly banished 
 out of such a visiting room, where these discourses 
 are the chief entertainment, and there is little place 
 found for any profitable conversation, even about the 
 most useful and valuable affairs of this life. 
 
 But, light as these pert questions are, I will consider 
 them one after another. lou say first, " Must we look 
 like old puritans ? Must we live like nobody ?" No, my 
 friends, I am not persuading you to return to the habit 
 and guise of your ancestors, nor to transact yourvisists, 
 
3U IMPROVEMENT 
 
 nor to model your diversions, by the pattern of four- 
 score years ago. Tiiere is a certain fasliion and appear- 
 ance of things that helong to every age ; modes of con- 
 versation and forms of bihaviour art- vmt changing 
 in lliis hfe ; and it is no improper thing for persons, 
 according to their rank and figure in life, to conform 
 themselves to the present customs as far as they arc 
 innocent, and have no evil influence upon morality or 
 religion. But where any unhappy customs prevail 
 in the world thit make an inroad upon your piety, 
 that endanger your virtue, that break the good 
 order of religious families, and are usually or always 
 attended with some mischievous consequences, sure- 
 ly in these instances it is better to look like a Puritan 
 and stand almost alone, «^han to follow the multitude in 
 a road that leads to iniquity and mischief. A Puritan 
 or a Separatist from the vain and dangerous courses of 
 a vicious world, is to this day a name of lasting glory, 
 though the enemies of God and of your ancestors may 
 cast It upon them in a way of reproach. There arc 
 some thmp in which you must dare to be singular, if 
 you wouldi be Christians, and especially in a corrupt 
 and degenerate age. A sense of the love of God secu- 
 red to your hearts, and an inward peace of conscierjce, 
 will infinitely countervail the enmity of the world, and 
 overbalance the reproaches of an ungodly generation. 
 
 Besides, if the families that profess religion, and de- 
 sire to preserve piety among them, and to transmit it 
 down to their children's children, would but heartily ioia 
 together, in a resolved abstinence from these hazardous 
 diversions, there would be no need of any one of you to 
 stand alone, and your appearance on the side of virtue 
 would not be singular. Vou might animate and sup- 
 port one another with public courage, and having God 
 and virtue on your side, you might in some measure 
 bear down the eflfrontery and ridicule of an age of vice 
 and sensuality ; an age wherein comedies and mas- 
 querades, gaming tables and midnight assemblies, are 
 become the modish diversions. 
 
 But still it mav be said, what sin is there in any of 
 them ? Bear with me then, while I take them in order, 
 oneafter another, and briefly give my opinion concer- 
 ning each of them» 
 
OF THE MIND. 325 
 
 1. Let us begin with the playhouse. It is granted 
 ihat a dramatic representation of the affairs of human 
 life, is by no means sinful in itself: lam inclined to 
 think that valuable compositions might be made of this 
 kind, such as might entertain a virtuous audience with 
 innocent delight, and even with some real profit. Such 
 have been written in French, and have in pmes past, 
 been acted with applause. But it is too well knowH 
 that the comedies which appear on our stage, and most 
 of the tragedies too, have no design to set religion or 
 virtue in the best light, nor to render vice odious to the 
 spectators. In many of them piety makes a ridiculous 
 figure and virtue is drest in the habit of folly ; the sacred 
 name of God is frequently taken in vain, if not blasphe- 
 med ; and the man of flagrant vice is the fine gentleman 
 and the poet's favourite, who musti)e rewarded at the 
 end of the play. 
 
 Besides, there is nothing will pass in our theatres 
 that has not a mixture of some amorous intrigue ; lewd- 
 ness itself reigns and riots in some of their scenes ; so- 
 briety is put quite out of countenance, and modesty is 
 in certain danger there ; the youth of serious religion 
 that ventures sometimes into this infected air, finds his 
 antidotes too weak to resist the contagion. Th© plea- 
 sures of the closet and devout retirement are suspended 
 first, and then utterly vanquished by the overpowering 
 influence of the last comedy ; the fancy is all over defi- 
 led, the vain images rise uppermost in the soul and pol- 
 lute the feeble attempts of devotion, till by degrees, 
 secret religion is lost and forgotten ; and in a little time 
 the play house has got so much the mastery of con- 
 science that the young christian goes to bed after the 
 evening drama with as much satisfaction and ease as he 
 used to do after evening prayer. 
 
 If there have been found two or three plays which 
 have been tolerably free from lewd and profane mix^ '■ 
 tures, there are some scores or hundreds that have i 
 many hateful passages in them, for which no excuse. '-;, 
 can be made. And when all the charming powers of i 
 poesy and music are joined with the gayest scenes and : 
 entertainments, to assault the senses and the soul at \ 
 once, and to drive out virtue from the possession of the | 
 heart, it is to be feared that it will not long keep its place 
 E e 
 
Si6 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 and power there. What a prophet of their own says 
 of a court, may with much more truth and justice Be 
 said of the theatre ; 
 
 It is a golden, but a fa til circle, 
 Upon whose magic skirts a thousand devils 
 in crystal forms sit tempting innocence, 
 An9 beckon early virtue from its centre. 
 
 Another of the poets of the town, who made no 
 great pretences to virtue, and who well knew the quali- 
 ties of the theatre, and its mischievous influence, writes 
 thus of it : 
 
 It w*>uld be endless to trace all the vice 
 
 That from the playhouse takes immediate rise, 
 
 It is the unexhausted magazine 
 
 That stocks the land with vanity and sin. 
 
 By flourishing so long, 
 
 Numbers have been undone, both old and young ; 
 
 And many hundred souls are now unblest, 
 
 Which else had died in peace, and found eternal rest. 
 
 As for any of my friends who are not yet convinced 
 of th^ justice of these censures, I intreat them to read 
 what Mr. Collier, Mr. Bedford, and Mr. Lane have 
 written on this subject : And though 1 would by no 
 means justify and support every remark they have 
 made, yet I think every reader who has a modest and 
 
 KioHs soul, and has the cause of God and virtue near 
 is heart, will be a little afraid to give his presence there, 
 lest he should seem to encourage such incentives to in- 
 iquity and profaneness ; or if he should go thither 
 once, merely to see and know what it is, I would per- 
 suade myself he will not make it his practice, or fre- 
 quent that house of infection. 
 
 But you will say, " There is some advantage to be 
 gained by these entertainments ; there is a deal of fine 
 language in them, and fashionable airs of conversation; 
 there are many of the fooleries of life exposed in the 
 theatre, which suit not a more solemn place ; and com- 
 edies will teach us to know the world, and to avoid the 
 ridicule of the age." 
 B«t let my younger frieuds, who arc so willing to im- 
 
OF THE MIND. Z^t 
 
 prove in their knowledge of the world and politeness 
 remember, that whatsoever may be gotten, there is 
 much more to be lost among these perilous and enti- 
 cing scenes of vanity ; the risk of their virtue and 
 serious religion can never be recompenced by the learn- . 
 ing a few fine speeches and modish airs, or the correc- VL 
 tion of some awkward and unfashionable piece of^ 
 behaviour. This is to plunge headlong into the sea, 
 that I may wash ofi" a little dirt from my coat, or to 
 venture on poison in order to cure a pimple. 
 
 Besides, most or all of these ends might be attained 
 by reading some few of the best of them in private ; 
 though 1 confess, I am cautious how I recommend this 
 practice, because I think that almost all these dramatic 
 composures in our age have some dangerous mixtures 
 in them. Those volumes of short essays which are 
 entitled the Spectator, will give a sufficient knowledge 
 «f the ways of the world, and cure us of a hundred 
 little follies, without the danger that there is in reading 
 of plays ; though even in those very volumes, I could 
 heartily wish tnat here and there a leaf were left out, 
 wherein the ^vriter speaks too favourably of the stage, 
 and now and then, though rarely, introduces a sentence 
 that would raise a blush m the face of strict virtue. 
 
 2. The next forbidden diversion is the masquerade. 
 By all the descriptions that I haveheai*d of it, it seems 
 to be a very low piece of foolery,- fitted for children 
 and for persons of a little and trifling geni^s^ who can 
 entertain themselves at blind man's buC And as the 
 entertainment is much meaner than that of the theatre, 
 so it is something more hazardous to virtue and inna- 
 cence. It does not so much as pretend to any such im- 
 provement of the mind as the theatre professes ; while 
 it lays a more dreadful snare to modesty, and has made 
 too often a dismal inroad on the morals of those that 
 frequent it. Could I but persuade persons to read what 
 the Right Reverend the late Lord Bishop of London 
 has published in his sermon for the reformation of 
 manners, I am ready to think that all those who profess 
 virtue would refrain their feet far from it, and not come 
 Bear the doors of the house. His words are these : 
 
 " Amongst the various engines contrived by a corrupt 
 generation to support vice and profaneness, and keep 
 
328 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 them in countenance, I must particularly take notice of 
 masquerades, as they deprive virtue and religion of their 
 last refuge, I mean shame; which keeps multitudes 
 of sinners within the bounds of decency, after they 
 have broken through all the ties of principle and con- 
 science. But this invention sets them free ftom that 
 tie also ; being neither better npr worse than an oppor- 
 tunity to say and do there, what virtue, decency, and 
 good manners will not permit to be said or done in any 
 other place. If persons of either sex will frequent 
 lewd and profane plays, or openly join themselves to 
 loose and atheistical assemblies of any kind, they have 
 their reward, they are sure to be marked and branded 
 by all good men, as persons of corrupt minds and 
 vicious inclinations, who have abandoned religion and 
 all pretences to it, and given themselves over to luxury 
 and profaneness. And as bad as the world* is, this is a 
 very heavy load upon the characters of men ; and in 
 spite of all the endeavours of vice to bear up and keep 
 itself in countenance, it sinks them by degrees, into 
 infamy and contempt. But this pernicious invention 
 intrenches vice and profaneness against all the assaults 
 and impressions of shame; ana whatever lewdness 
 may be concerted, whatever luxury, immodesty, or 
 extravagance may be committed in word or deed, no 
 one's reputation is at stake, no one's character is respon- 
 sible for it. A circumstance of such terrible conse- 
 quence to virtue and good manners, that if masquer- 
 ades shall ever be revived, as Ave heartily hope they 
 will not, all serious christians within these two great and 
 popuioup cities will be nearly concerned to lay it to 
 heart, and diligently bestir themselves in cautioning 
 their friends and neighbours against such fatal snares. 
 Particularly all who have the government and education 
 of youth, ought to take the greatest care to keep them 
 out of tne way of this dangerous temptation, and then 
 to labour against the spreading of it. 
 
 " I cannot forbear to add, that all religious consider- 
 ations apart, this is a diversion that no true Englishman 
 ought to be fond of, when he remembers, that it was 
 brought in among us by an ambassador of a neighbour- 
 ing nation in the last reign, while his master was in 
 measures to enslave us ; and indeed there is not a moi?c 
 
OF THE MINO. M^ 
 
 effectual way to enslave a people, than first to dispirit 
 and enfeeble them by licentiousness and efFeminacy." 
 Thus far the right reverend author, whose zeal for the 
 suppression of all these tempting machineries has been 
 so conspicuous and honourable. 
 
 3. The third place of dangerous resort is the gamings 
 table. Many young gentlemen have been there bub-^ 
 bled and cheated of large sums of money, which were 
 given them by their parents to support them honoura- 
 bly in their stations. In such sort of shops, young 
 ladies are tempted to squander away too lar^e a share 
 of their yearly allowance, if not of the provision which 
 their parents have made for their whole lives. It is a 
 fatal snare to both sexes ; if they win, they are allured 
 still onward, while, according to their language, luck 
 runs on their side ; if they loose, they are tempted to 
 another and another cast of the die, and enticed on still 
 to fresh games, by a delusive hope that fortune will 
 turn, aad they shall recover all that they have lost, lu 
 the midst of these scenes their passions rise shame- 
 fully, a greedy desire of gain makes them warm and 
 eciger, and new losses plunge them sometimes into 
 vexation and fury, till the soul is quite beat off from its 
 guard, and virtue and reason have no manner of com- 
 mand over them. 
 
 My worthy friend Mr. Neal, in his reformation 
 sermon, has taken occasion not only to inform us, that . 
 merchants and tradesmen mix themselves at these 
 tables with men of desperate fortunes, and throw the 
 dice for their estates ; but in a very decent and soft 
 manner of address, he has inquired whether public 
 gaming in virtuous ladies be not a little out of character r 
 Whether it does not draw them into mixed company, 
 and give them an air of boldness, which is perfectly in- 
 consistent with that modesty which is the ornament of 
 the fair sex ? Whether it does not engage them in an 
 habit of idleness and of keeping ill hours ? Whether 
 their passions are not sometimes disordered ? And 
 whether the losses they sustain have not a tendency to 
 breed ill blood in their families and between their near- 
 est relations ? It has been often observed, that " gaming 
 in a lady has usually been attended with loss of repu- 
 tation, and sometimes of that which is still more valua- 
 E e 2 
 
830 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 ble, her virtue and honour." Thus far proceeds this 
 useful sermon. 
 
 JNow, if these be the dismal and frequent consequen- 
 ces of the gamiog tables, the loss of a little money is 
 one of the least injuries you sustain by it. But what 
 if you should still come off gainers ? Is this the way 
 that God has taught or allowed us to procure the ne- 
 cessary comforts of life ? Is this a sort of labour or 
 traffic on which you can ask the blessing of heaven ? 
 Can you lift up your face to God, and pray that he 
 woulH succeed the cast of the die, the drawing of the 
 lot, or the dealing out of the cards, so as to mcrease 
 your gain, while it is the very sense and language of 
 the prayer that your neighbour may sustain so much 
 loss ? This is a sad and guilty circumstance which 
 belongs to gaming, that one can gain nothing but what 
 another loses ; and consequently we cannot ask a bles- 
 sing upon ourselves, but at the same time we pray for a 
 blast upon our neighbour. 
 
 Will you hope to excuse it by saying, that ray neigh- 
 bour consents to this blast, or this loss, by entering into 
 the game, and there is no injury where there is consent ? 
 I answer, that though he consents to lose condition- 
 ally, and upon a venturous hope of gain, yet he is not 
 willing to sustain the loss absolutely ; but when either 
 chance or his neighbour's skill in the game has deter- 
 . miued against him, then he is consti'ained to lose and 
 does it unwillingly, so that he still sustains it as a loss, 
 or misfortune, or evil. Now if you ask a blessing from 
 heaven on this way of your gettirig money you ask rather 
 absolutely that your neighbour may sustain a loss, with- 
 out any regard to the condition of his hope of gain. 
 
 Your wish and prayer is directly that you may get, 
 and he may lose ; you cannot wish this good to your- 
 self, but you wish the contrary evil to him : and there- 
 fore 1 think gaming for gain cannot be consistent with 
 the laws of Christ, which certainly forbid us to wish evil 
 to our neighbour. 
 
 And if you cannot so much as in thought ask God's 
 blessing on this, as you certainly may on such recrea- 
 tions as have an evident tendency innocently to exer- 
 cise the body, and relax the mind, it seems your con- 
 science secretly condems it, and there is an additional 
 proof of its bejDg evil to you. 
 
OF THE MIND. 331 
 
 All the justest writers of morality, and the best cas- 
 liists, have generally, if not universally, determined 
 against these methods of gain. Whatsoever game may 
 be indulged as lawful, it is still a recreation, and not as 
 a calling or business of life ; and therefore no larger 
 sums ought to be risked or ventured in this manner, than 
 what may be lawfully laid out by any persons for their 
 present recreation, according to their different circum- 
 stances in the world. 
 
 Besides all this, think of the loss of time, and the waste 
 of life that is continually made by some who frequent 
 these gaming places. Think how it calls away many 
 a youth from their proper buisness, and tempts them 
 to throw away what is not their own, and to risk the 
 substance as well as the displeasure of their parents or 
 their master, at all the uncertain hazards of a dice box. 
 ReaH the pages which Mr. Neal has employed on this 
 theme, in the sermon just now cited ; read Avhat Mr, 
 Dorrin^ton has written several years ago, on this subject 
 of gaming ; I wish such discourses were fresh in print, 
 and put into the hands of every one who lies under 
 this temptation. 
 
 4. The midnight assemblies are the last which I shall 
 mention of those modish and hazardous diversions, 
 wherein youth are drawn away to too much vanity, 
 and plunged into the sensual gaieties of life ; and that at 
 those hours, part of which should be devoted to the 
 jreligion of the family, or the closet, and partly to the 
 •nightly repose of nature. It is acknowledged to be pro- 
 per and needful that young people should be indulged 
 jn some recreations, agreeable to their age and suitable 
 to the condition in which Providence has placed them. 
 But I would ask, whether the great and only valuable 
 end of recreation is to be expected from these midnight 
 -assemblies, namely to relieve us from the fatigues of hfe, 
 .andtoexhlleratethespirits, so as thereby to fit us for 
 the duties of life and religion ? Now are these the pro- 
 per means to fit us for the duties of either kind ? Per- 
 haps it will*be said, that dancing which is practised in 
 those assemblies, is an exercise conducive to health, and 
 therefore a means of fitting us for the duties of life. 
 But may not the unseasonableness of the midnight hour 
 
332 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 prevent and overbalance the benefit that might other- 
 ■wise be supposed to arise from the exercise ? Is it likely 
 that natural health should be promoted or preserved,, 
 by changing the seasons and order of nature, and by 
 alloting th«>se hours to exercise which God and nature 
 have ordained to rest ? Is the returning home after five 
 or six hours dancing, through the cold and damp of the 
 midnight air, a proper means of preserving health ? Or 
 rather is it not more likely to impair and destroy it ? 
 Have not these fatal effects been too often felt? Have 
 there not been sacrifices of human life offered to this 
 midnight idol ? Have there been no fair young martyrs 
 to this unseasonable folly ? Are there not some of its 
 slaves who are become feeble, labouring under sore dis- 
 eases, and some of them fallen asleep in death? Have 
 not their music and their dancing, instead of natural rest 
 in their beds, brought them down to a long silence in 
 the grave and an untimely rest in a bed of dust ? Those 
 amiable pieces of human nature, w^ho were lately the 
 joy and hope of their too indulgent parents, are now the 
 bitterness of their hearts ; and those very exercises from 
 whence they hoped the continuance of their joy, as the 
 supposed means of confirming their children's health, 
 are become an everlasting spring of their mourning. 
 
 And as those midnight recreations are badly suited 
 to fit us for the duties of the civil life, so they are worse 
 suited to fit us for, or rather, they are more apparently 
 opposite to the duties of religion. The religion of the 
 closet is neglected, the beautiful regularity and order of 
 the family is broken ; and when the night has been tur- 
 ned into day, a good part of the next day is lu ned into 
 night, while the duties of the morning, both to God and 
 man, are unperformed. Those who have frequented 
 these assemblies know all this, and are my witnesses to 
 the truth of it. Nay, the very practice itself at those 
 unseasonable hours, tells all the world how much they 
 prefer these dangerous amusements to the worship- ©f 
 God in the evening and in the morning, ai^d to all the 
 conveniencies and decorum of family government. Be- 
 sides, if I speak to christians, have you not found that the 
 indul^enceof this sort of diversions, which are usually 
 practised in those unseasonable assemblies, leads the 
 mind away insensibly from God and religion, gives a van- 
 
6¥ 'THE MIND. 555 
 
 ity to the spirit, and greatly abates the spiritual and hea- 
 venly temper which sliould belong to Christians ? Hath 
 it not taken away the savour of godliness and tincture of 
 piety from some younger minds ? And do elder Chris- 
 tians never suffer by it ? Let it be further considered 
 what sort of company you mingle with at those midnight 
 assemblies. Are they most frequented by the wise and 
 pious, or by the more vain and vicious part of mankind ? 
 Do they tend to fill your mind with the most improving 
 notions, and your ears and your lips with the most prop- 
 er conversation ? Do you that frequent them never find 
 your piety in danger there? Does strict religion and 
 prayer relish so well with you afterthose gaudy nights of , 
 mirth and folly ? And do you then , when you join in those 
 assemblies, practice the commands of God, to abstain 
 from all appearance of evil and to shun the paths of 
 temptation ? Can you pray for a blessing on your attend- 
 ace on these midnight meetings? Or can you hope to 
 run into the midst of those sparks and living coals, and 
 yet not be burned, nor so much as have your garments 
 singed ? Are riot parents very generally sensible, that 
 there are dangerous snares to youth in those gay diver- 
 sions ? And therefore the mother will herself go along 
 with her young offspring, to take caie of them and to 
 watch over them ; and perhaps there is scarcely any 
 place or time which more wants the watchful eye of a 
 superior. But here let me ask, is this all the reason why 
 the mother attends those scenes of vanity ? Has she no 
 relish for them herself? Has she no gay humours of her 
 own to be gratified, which she disguises, and covers 
 with the pretence of parental solicitude for the virtue 
 and honour of her offspring ? Are there no mothers 
 who freely lead their children into those perilous places, 
 where soul and body are in danger, and are really their 
 tempters, under a colour of being their guardians? 
 
 You will plead perhaps, that some of these things arc 
 proper for the improvement of young people in good 
 oreeding and politeness. They must be brought into 
 company to see the world and to learn how to behave 
 with becoming decency. Well, suppose these assem- 
 blies to be academies of politeness, and that young peo- 
 ple attend there upon lecturesof good breeding. Isthere 
 no other time so fit as midnight to polish the youth of 
 
334 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 both sexes and to breed them well ? May not an hour 
 or two be appointed at more proper seasons by select 
 companies, tor mutual conversation and innocent de- 
 light ? Can there be no genteel recreations enjoyed, no 
 lessons of behaviour taught by day light ? Can no meth- 
 od of improvement in good breeding be contrived and 
 appointed, which shall be more secure from temptations 
 and inconveniences ? Are there none which are more 
 harmless, more innocent, of better reputation among 
 persons of strict piety, and which make less inroads on 
 the duties of life, both solitary and social, civil and 
 religious. 
 
 Shall I inquire once more, What is done at many of 
 those midnight assemblies before the dance is begun, or 
 when it is ended, and what is the entertainment of those 
 who are not engaged in dancing ? Are they not active 
 in gaming? Are not cards the business of the hour? Are 
 not children educated by these means in the love of ga- 
 ming ? And do they not hereby get such a relish of it 
 as proves afterwards pt^rnicious to them? Now if ga- 
 ming be not a practice fit to be encouraged, what en- 
 couragement do those assemblies deserve where gaming 
 is one of the chief diversions or bu -ine s ? 
 
 But it is time to put an end lo this sort of discourse. 
 I beg pardon of my readers lor having drawn it out to 
 so great a length ; for I have said too much on this sub- 
 ject for those who have no inclination to these criminal 
 and dangerous diversions ; and wish I may have said 
 enough to do good to those who have. 
 
 Upon the whole, 1 conclude, it is the duty of parents 
 who would give their children a good education, to see 
 to it, that children in their younger years do not indulge 
 such recreations as may spoil all the good effects of the 
 pious instructions, the prayers and care of their parents. 
 Otherwise, if you encourage them in such recreations, 
 you are building; up these vanities of mind, and those 
 vicious inclinations, with one hand, which you labour 
 to prevent or to destroy with the othejr. 
 
OP THE MINIX SS3' 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 Of the Proper De^ees of Liberty and restraint in the 
 Education oj a Son, illustrated by Example, 
 
 oO weak and unhappy is human nature that it is ever 
 ready to run into extremes; and when we wbuld reeover 
 ourselves from an excess on the right hand, we know 
 not where to stop till we are got to an excess on the 
 left. Instances of this kind are innumerable in all the 
 afiFairs of human life ; but it is hardly more remarkable 
 in any thing than in the strict and severe education of 
 our fathers a century ago, and in the most profuse 
 and unlimited liberty that is indulged to children in our 
 age. 
 
 In those days the sons were bred up to learning by 
 terrible discipline ; every Greek and Latin author they 
 conversed with was attended with one or many new 
 scourges, to drive them into acquaintance with him, 
 and not the least misdemeanor in life could escape the 
 lash, as though the father would prove his daily love to 
 his son by never sparing his rod : Prov. xiii. 24. Now 
 a daysyounginaster must be treated with afoolish fond- 
 ness, till he is grown to the size of man ; and let his 
 faults be ever so heinous, and his obstinacy ever so great, 
 yet the preceptor must not let him hear the name of 
 the rod, lest the child should be frightened or hurt ; 
 the advice of the wisest of men is utterly forgotten 
 when he tells us, that " Due eon'tdion shall drive out 
 the folly that is bound up in the heart of a child ;" Prov. 
 xxii. 15. Or else they boldly reverse his divine council, 
 Prov. xiii. 24, as though they would make the rule of 
 their practice, a direct contradiction to the words of 
 Solomon, namely. He that spareth the rodloveth his son, 
 but he that hateth him chastens him betimes. 
 
 In that day many children were kept in a most ser- 
 vile subjection, and not suffered to sit down, or to speak, 
 in the presence of their father, till they were come to 
 
S36 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 the age of one and twenty. The least degree of frec- 
 doni wasesteeoied a bold presumption, and incurred a 
 sharp reproof. J\ow they are made familiar compan- 
 ions to their parents, almost from the very nursery ; 
 and therefore they will hardly bear a check or a reproof 
 at their hand. 
 
 In the beginning of the last century, and so onward 
 to the middle of it, the children were usually obliged 
 to believe what their parents and their masters taught 
 them, whether they were principles of science or arti- 
 cles of faith and practice ; they were tied down almost 
 every punctilio, as though it were necessary to salvation ; 
 they were not suffered to examine or inquire whether 
 their teachers were in the right, and scarcely knew upon 
 what grounds they were to assent to the things that 
 were taught them : for it was a maxim of all teachers, 
 that the learner must believe : Disceniem opertet credere. 
 Then an ipse dixit, or Aristotle said so, was a sufficient 
 proof of any proposition in the colleges ; and for a 
 man of five and twenty to be a Christian and a Protest- 
 ant, a Dissenter or a Churchman, it was almost reason 
 enough to say that his father was so. But in this cen- 
 tury, when the doctrine of a just and reasonable liberty 
 is Better known, too many of the present youth break 
 all the bonds of nature and duty, and run into the wild- 
 est degrees of looseness both in belief and practice. 
 They slight the religion which their parents have 
 taught them, that they may appear to have chosen a 
 religion for themselves, and when they have made a 
 creed or belief of their own, or rather borrowed some 
 scraps of infidelity from their vain companions and 
 equals, they find pretences enough to cast off all other 
 creeds at once, as well as the councils and customs of 
 their religious predecessors. 
 
 "The practices of our fathers, say they, were 
 precise and foolish, and shall be no rule for our conduct ; 
 the articles of their faith were absurd and mysterious, 
 but we will believe nothing <»f mystery, lest our faith 
 should be as ridiculous as theirs." In their younger 
 years, and before their reason is half grown, they pre- 
 tend to examine the sublimest doctrines of Christianity ; 
 and a raw and half witted boy, shall commence an 
 infidel, because he cannot comprehend some ©f the 
 
OP THE MIND. S37 
 
 glorious truths of the gospel ; and laughs at his elders 
 and ancestors, for believin;;; what they could not com- 
 prehend. 
 
 The child now a days forgets that his parent is 
 obliged, by all the laws of God and nature, to train him 
 up in his own religion, till he coraes to the proper age 
 of discretion to judge for himself; he forgets, or he 
 will not know, that the parent is instructed with the 
 care of the souls of his young offspring by the very laws 
 of nature, as well as by the revealed covenants of in- 
 nocency and of grace. The son now a days forgets the 
 obligations he is under to honour and obey the persons 
 who gave him birth ; he pays no regard to the doctrines 
 which led on his ancestors to the love of God and 
 man ; whereas doctrines that have such influence claim 
 at least some degrees of attention, and especially from 
 a son who has been trained up in them, and beheld the 
 effect of them in the piety of his parents ; nor will the 
 very light of nature suffer him to depart from them, but 
 upon the clearest judgment of his own mature reason, 
 a thorough and impartial search into the subject, the 
 loud inward dictates of his conscience, and the full 
 evidence of his parents' mistake. 
 
 So wanton and licentious a spirit has possessed some 
 of the youth of the nation, that they never think they 
 have freed themselves from the prejudices of their ed- 
 ucation, tin they have thrown off almost all the yokes 
 of restraint, that were laid upon them by God or man. 
 Some take a petulant pride in laying aside the holy 
 scriptures, for the same reason that Timothy was ad- 
 vised to continue in them ; and that is, because They 
 have learned and known them from their very childhood : 
 2 Tim. iii. 15. And some perhaps have been laughed 
 out of their Christianity, lest it should be said that 
 their mothers and their nurses had made them chris- 
 tians. 
 
 Heretofore the sons were scarce suffered to be absent 
 from home an hour without express leave, till they, 
 were arrived at the age of man, nor daughters till they 
 were married : Now, both sexes take an unbounded h- 
 cense of roving where they please, and from a dozen 
 years old they forget to ask leave to wander or to visit 
 where their fancies lead them : At first, the parent gives 
 F f 
 
S38 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 a loose and winks at it, and then the child claims it as 
 his due for ever. » 
 
 In short the last age taught mankind to believe that 
 they were mere children, and treated them as such, till 
 they were near thirty years old ; but the pre3ent gives 
 them leave to fancy themselves complete men and wo- 
 men at twelve or fifteen ; and they accordingly judge 
 and manage for themselves entirely, and too often 
 despise all advice of their elders. 
 
 JNow, though it be sufficiently evident that both these 
 are extremes of liberty or restraint, yet if we judge by 
 the reason of things, or by experience and success, 
 surely the ancient education is to be preferred before 
 the present, and of the two should rather be chosen. 
 
 If we would determine this by reason, it is easy to 
 see that a father of fifty or sixty years old is fitter to 
 judge for his son, at four and twenty, in matters 
 of importance, than a boy of fifteen is to judge for 
 himself. 
 
 Or, if we would decide the matter by experience, 
 it is plain enough that the posterity of the former, 
 generation, whc are the ft\thers and the grandfathers of 
 the present, had more of serious religion and true vir- 
 tue amongst them, than there is any hope or prospect 
 of amongst the greatest part of their children and 
 grandchildren. And if I would use a bold metaphor, 
 I might venture to say with truth, the last century has 
 brought forth more solid fruits of goodness, than the 
 present can yet show in blossoms ; and in my opinion, 
 this is much owing to the neglect of the pruning knife. 
 
 But, after all, is there no medium between these two 
 extremes, excess of confinement and excess of liberty ? 
 May not young understandings be allowed to shoot and 
 spread themselves a little, without growing rank and 
 rampant ? May not children be kept in a due and gentle 
 subjection to their parents, without putting yokes of 
 bondage on them ? Is there no reasonable restraint of 
 the wild opinions and violent inclinations of youth» 
 without making chains for the understanding, and 
 throwing fetters on the soul ? May not the young gen- 
 tleman begin to act like a man without forgetting that 
 he is a son ; and maintain the full liberty of his own 
 judgment, without insoleace and contempt of the 
 
OP THE MIND. 339 
 
 opinions of his elders ? May not he who is bred up a 
 Protestent and a Christian, judge freely for himself, 
 "without the prejudices of his education, and yet contin- "^ 
 ue a Christian and a Protestent still ? Is it not possible 
 for the parent to indulge, and the child to enjoy a just 
 liberty, and yet neither encourage nor practise a wild 
 licentiousness ? 
 
 Yes, surely ; and there have been happy instances in 
 the last age, and there are some in this, both of parents 
 and children that have learned to tread this middle 
 path, and found wisdom and virtue in it, piety and 
 peace. Agathus has bred his sons up under such 
 discipline, as renders them both proper examples to 
 the world. 
 
 Eugenioisjust out of his minority, and in the twenty 
 second year of his age practises the man with all that 
 virtue and decency which makes his father's acquaint- 
 ance covet his company : and indeed they may learn 
 by his discourse the art of good reasoning, as well as 
 the [)recepts of piety from his example. He is an en- 
 tertaining companion to the young gentlemen his 
 «quals ; and yet divines and philosophers take a pleas- 
 ure to have Eugenio amongst them. He is carressed 
 by his superiors in honour and years ; and though he 
 is released from the discipline of parental education, 
 yet treats the lady his mother with all that affectionate 
 duty that could be desired or demanded of him ten 
 years ago ; his father is content to see his own youth 
 outshined by his son, and confesses that Eugenio 
 already promises greater things than Agathus ciid at 
 thirty. 
 
 If you ask whence these happy qualities arise, I grant 
 there was some foundation for them in the very make 
 of his nature ; there was something of a complexion- 
 al virtue mingled with his frame ; but it is much more 
 owing to the wise conduct of his parents, from his very 
 infancy, and the blessing of divine grace attending 
 their labours, their prayers, and their hopes. 
 
 He was trained up from the very cradle to all the 
 duties of infant virtue, by the allurements of love and 
 reward suited to his age ; and never was driven to 
 practise any thing by a frown or a hasty word where it 
 was possible for kinder affections to work the same 
 effect by indulgence and delay. 
 
S40 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 As fast as his reasoning powers began to appear and 
 exert themselves, they were conducted in an easy track 
 of thought to find out and observe the reasonableness 
 of every part of his duty, and the lovely character of 
 a child obedient to reason and to his parents' will ; 
 while every departure from duty was shown to be so 
 contrary to reason, as laid an early foundation for con- 
 science to work upon ; conscience began here to as- 
 sume its office, and to manifest its authority in dictates, 
 and reproofs, and reflections of mind, peaceful or pain- 
 ful, according to his behaviour. When his parents 
 observed this inward monitor to awake his soul, they 
 could better trust him out of their sight. 
 
 "When he became capable of conceiving of an al- 
 mighty and invisible Being, who made this world and 
 every creature in it, he was taught to pay all due re- 
 gard to this God his make:r ; and from the authority 
 and love of his father on earth, he was led to form right 
 ideas, as far as childhood permitted, of the power, 
 government and goodness of the universal and supreme 
 Father of all in heaven. 
 
 He was informed why punishment was due to an 
 offence against God or his parents, that his fear might 
 become an useful passion to awaken or guard his virtue ; 
 but he was instructed at the same time, that where he 
 heartily repented of a fault, and returned to his duty 
 with due diligence, there was forgiveness to be obtain r 
 ed both of God and man. 
 
 When at any time a friend interceded for him to his 
 ftither, after he had been guilty of a fault, he was here- 
 by directed into the doctrine of Jesus, the Mediator 
 between God and man ; and thus he knew him as an 
 Intercessor, before he could well understand the notion 
 of his sacrifice,and atonement. 
 
 In his younger years he passed but twice under the 
 correction of the rod ; once for a fit of obstinacy and 
 persisting in a falsehood ; then he was given up to a 
 severe chastisement, and it dispelled and cured the 
 sullen humour for ever ; and once for the contempt of his 
 mother's authority he endured the -scourge again, and 
 he wanted it no more. 
 
 He was enticed sometimes to the love of letters, by 
 making his lesson a reward of some domestic duty ; and 
 
eF THE MIND. 341 
 
 5a permissslon to pursue some parts of learning was the 
 appointed recompence of his diligence and improve- 
 ment in others. 
 
 • There was nothing required of his memory but what 
 "xvas first, as far as possible, let into his understanding, 
 and by proper iniages and representations suited to his 
 years, he was taught to form some conception of the 
 things described, before he was bid to learn the words 
 by heart Thus he was freed from the danger of treas- 
 uring up the cant and jargon of mere names, instead of 
 the riches of solid knowledge. 
 
 Where any abstruse and difficult notions occurred in 
 his course of learning, his preceptor postponed them 
 till he had gone through that subject in a more super- 
 ficial way ; for this purpose he passed twice through 
 all the sciences ; and to make the doctrines of Chris- 
 tianity easy to him in his childhood, he had two or 
 three catechisms composed by his tutor, each of them 
 suited to his more early or more improved capacity, 
 till at twelve years old he was thought fit to learn that 
 public form, which is more universally taught and ap- 
 proved. 
 
 As he was inured to reasoning from his childhood, 
 so he was instructed to prove every thing, according to 
 the nature of the subject, by natural or moral argu 
 ments, as far as his years would admit ; and thus he 
 drew much of his early knowledge from reason, or 
 from revelation, by the force of his judgment, and not 
 merely from his teachers by the strength of his me- 
 mory. 
 
 His parents were persuaded indeed that they ought 
 to teach him the principles of virtue while he was a 
 child ; and the most important truths of religion, both 
 natural and revealed, before he was capable of deriving 
 them from the fund of his own reason ; or of framing 
 a religion for himself out of so large a book as the 
 Bible. They thought themselves under the obligation 
 of that divine command, " train up a child in the way 
 that he should g*©, and when he is old he will not depart 
 Jrom ity Prov. xxii. 6. And therefore from a child 
 they made him acquainted with the holy scriptures, 
 persuaded him to believe that they were given by the 
 inspiration of God, before it was possible for him to 
 F f £ 
 
342 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 take in the arguments from reason, history, tradition, 
 &c. which must be joined together to confirm the 
 sacred canon, and prove the several books of the Bible 
 to be divine. Thus, like Timothy, he con/inwer/ in (he 
 things which ht had learned , and had been assured of, 
 knowing of whom he had learned them, SL Tim. iii. 14, 
 15, 16. Vet as his years advanced, they thought it 
 requisite to show him the solid and rational foundations 
 of his faith, that his hope might be built upon the 
 authority of God and not of men. 
 
 Thus the apostles and prophets were made his early 
 companions ; and being instructed in the proofs of the 
 Christian religion, and the divine original of his Bible, 
 he pays a more constant and sacred regard to it, since 
 his judgment and reason assure him that it is the word 
 of trod, than when he was a child and believed it 
 because his mother told him so. He reads the scrip- 
 tures daily now, not like the lessons of his infancy, but 
 asthe infallible rule of his faith and practice: He searches 
 them every day in his closet, not to confirm any articles 
 or doctrines that he is resolved to believe, but, as the 
 noble Bereans did, to examine and try whether those 
 doctrines and articles ought to be believed or not, which 
 he was taught in the nursery. 
 
 After he arrived at fifteen, he was suffered to admit 
 nothing into his full assent, till hi& tnind saw the 
 rational evidence of the proposition itself ; or at least 
 till he felt the power of those reasons which obliged 
 him to assent upon moral evidence and testimony, 
 where the evidences of sense or of reason were not to 
 be expected. He knew that he was not to hope for 
 mathematical proofs that there is a Pope at Rome, that 
 the Turks have dominion over Judea, that St. Paul 
 wrote an epistle to the Romans, that Christ was cruci- 
 fied without the gates of Jerusalem, and that in three 
 days time he rose from the dead ; and yet that there is 
 just and reasonable evidence to enforce and support 
 the belief of all these. Where truths uere too sublime 
 for present comprehension, he would nrver admit them 
 as a part of his faith, till he saw full evidence of a speak- 
 ing God, and a divine revelation. 
 
 His tutor never imposed any thing on him with a 
 magisterial air, but by way of advice recommended to 
 
OF THE MIND. 348 
 
 iiim such studies and such methods of improvement as 
 his experience had long approved ; he gave frequent 
 hints of the danger of some opinions, and the fatal 
 consequences of some modish and mistaken principles. 
 He let him know generally what sentiments he himself 
 embraced among the divided opinions of the age ; and 
 what clear and comprehensive knowledge, what satis- 
 faction of judgment, serenity of mind, and peace of 
 conscience were to be found in the principles which he 
 had chosen ; but he exhorted his pupil still to choose 
 wisely for himself, and led him onward in the sciences, 
 and in common and sacred affairs, to frame his own 
 sentiments by just rules of reasoning ; though Eugenic 
 did not superstitiously confine his belief to the opinions 
 of his inslructer, yet he could not but love the man that 
 indulged him in such a liberty of thought, and gave 
 him such an admirable clue, by which he let himself 
 into the secrets of knowledge, human and divine ; thus, 
 under the happy and insensible influences of so pru- 
 dent a supervisor, he traced the paths of learning, and 
 enjoyed the unspeakable pleasure of being his own 
 teacher, and of framing his opinions himself. By this 
 means he began early to use his reason with freedom, 
 and to judge for himself, without a servile submission to 
 the authority of others ; and yet to pay a just and 
 solenm deference to persons of age and experience, and 
 particularly to those who were the proper and appoint- 
 ed guides of his youth, and who led him on so gently 
 in tlie paths of knowledge. 
 
 He loves to call himself by the honourable name of a 
 christian ; and though his particular sentiments ap- 
 proach much nearer to the opinions of some parties 
 than to others, yet he likes not to be called by the 
 name of any party, for he is wise and bold enough to. 
 be a bigot to none. He practices a noble and an ex- 
 tensive charity to those that, in lesser matters, differ 
 widely from him, if they do but maintain the most 
 essential and necessary parts of Christianity ; nor does 
 he seclude them from his communion, nor withhold 
 himself from theirs ; but as the providence of God 
 gives him just occasions, he eats and drinks with them 
 at the table of their common Lord, provided always 
 
344 fMPROVEMENT 
 
 that they impose nothing upon his practice contrary t* | 
 his conscience. i 
 
 Yet his cliarity has its limits too; for he hardly 
 knows how to worship the Son of God in the most 
 solemn ordinance of communion, with those that 
 esteem him but a mere man ; nor can he join with an 
 assembly of professed Socinians to commemorate the 
 death of Christ, who deny it to be a proper atonement 
 for the sins of men. 
 
 He dares to believe the doctrines of original sin, the 
 satisfaction of Christ, the influences of the blessed 
 Spirit, and other despised truths of the gospel ; and 
 this not because his ancestors believed them, but 
 because he cannot avoid the evidence of them in 
 scripture. And if in some few points of less importance 
 he takes leave to differ from the sentiments of his 
 elders, it is with such a becoming modesty, that con- 
 vinces his father how unwilling he is to dissent from 
 him ; and yet he maintains his opinion with such an 
 appearance of argument, and such an honest concern 
 for truth and piety, that makes it plain to his friends, 
 that he is under the strong constraint of an inward 
 conviction. Thus though he has perhaps some new ap- 
 prehensions of things, yet he is by no means led into 
 them by a licentious humour of opposing his teachers, 
 nor a wanton pride of free thinking. 
 
 He was not kept a stranger to the errors and follies of 
 mankind, nor was he let loose amongst them, either in 
 books or company, without a guard and a guide. His 
 preceptor let him know the gross mistakes and iniquities 
 of men, ancient and modern, but inlaid him with pro- 
 per principles of truth and virtue, and furnished iiim 
 Avith such rules of judgment, as led him more easily to 
 distinguish between good and bad ; and thus lie was 
 secured against the infection and the poison, both of 
 the living and the dead. 
 
 He had earl}"- cautions given him to avoid the ban- 
 tering tribe of mortals, and was instructed to distinguish 
 a jest from an argument, so that a loud laugh at his 
 reiigion never puts him nor his faith out of countenance. 
 He is ever ready to render a reason of his Christian 
 hope, and to defend his creed ; but he scorns to enter 
 the list with such a disputant that has no artillej*y but 
 
OF THE MIND. 540 
 
 -squtb and flash, no arguments but grimace and ridicule. 
 Thus he supports the character of a Christian with 
 honour; he confines his faith to his Bible, and his 
 practice to all the rules of piety ; and yet thinks as 
 freely as that vain herd of Atheists and Deists, who 
 arrogate the name of Freethinkers to themselves. 
 
 You will inquire, perhaps, how he came to attain so 
 manly a conduct in life at so early an age, and how 
 every thing of the boy was worn off so soon. Truly, 
 besides other influences, it is much owing to the happy 
 management of Eraste, that was the name of the lady, 
 his mother ; she was frecjuently in the nursery, and 
 inspired sentiments into his childhood, becoming riper 
 years. When there was company in, the parlour with 
 whom she could use such a freedom, she brought her 
 son in among them, not to entertain them with his own 
 noise, and tattle, and impertinence, but to hear their 
 discourse, and sometimes to answer a little question or 
 two they might ask him. When he was grown up to a 
 youth, he was often admitted into the room with his 
 father's acquaintance, and was indulged the liberty to 
 ask and inquire on subjects that seemed to be above 
 his years; he was encouraged to speak a sentence or 
 two of his own thoughts, and thus to learn and practise 
 a modest assurance. But when the company was gone, 
 he was approved and praised if he had behaved well, 
 or received kind hints of admonition that he might 
 know when he had been too silent, and when too for- 
 ward to speak. Thus by enjoying the advantage of 
 society above the level of his own age and Understand- 
 ing, he was always aspiring to imitation : and the ex- 
 cesses and defects of his conduct were daily noticed 
 and cured. 
 
 His curiosity was gratified abroad with new sights 
 and scenes, as often as his parents could do it with 
 convenience, that he might not stare and wonder at 
 every strange object or occurrence; but he was made 
 patient of restraint and disappointment, when he 
 seemed to indulge an excessive desire of any needless 
 diversion. If he sought any criminal pleasures, or 
 diversions attended with great danger and inconven- 
 ience, the pursuit of them was absolutely forbidden : 
 but it was done in so kind a manner, as made the guile 
 
346 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 or peril of them appear in the strongest light, and 
 thereby they were rendered hateful or formidable; 
 rather than the objects of wish or desire. 
 
 When Eugenio first began to go abroad in the world, 
 his companions were recommended to him by the 
 prudence of his parents ; or if he chose them himself, 
 it was still within the reach of his tutor's observation, 
 or the notice of his father's eye ; nor was he suffered 
 to run loose into promiscuous company, till it appeared 
 that his mind was furnished with steady principles of 
 virtue ; till he had knowledge enough to defend those 
 principles, and to repel the assaults that might be made 
 upon his faith. And for this reason, till he was twenty 
 years old, he gave account to his superiors how he 
 spent the day, whensoever he Avas absent from them ; 
 though they did not at that age require that he should 
 ask formal leave for a few hours excursion. 
 
 Yet it was hardly thought fit to trust him to his own 
 conduct for whole days together, lest he should meet 
 with temptations too hard for his virtue , till he had 
 gained resolution enough to say NO boldly, and to 
 maintain an obstinate refusal of perriicious pleasures. 
 He was told beforehand how the profane and lewd 
 would use all the arts of address, and how subtilly they 
 would practise upon his good humour with powerful 
 and tempting importunities. This set him ever upon 
 his guard, and though he carried his sweetness of tem- 
 per always about with him, yet he learned to conceal 
 it wheresoever it was neither proper nor safe to appear. 
 By a little converse in the world, he found that it was 
 necessary to be positive, bold, and immoveable in 
 rejecting every proposal which might endanger his 
 character or his morals ; especially as he soon became 
 sensible that a soft and cold denial gave courage to new 
 attacks, and left him liable to be teased with fresh so- 
 licitations. He laid down this therefore for a constant 
 rule, that where his reason had determined any prac- 
 tice to be either plainly sinful or utterly inexpedient, he 
 would give so firm a denial, upon the principles of 
 virtue and religion, as should for ever discourage any 
 further solicitations. This gave him the character of a 
 inan of resolute virtue, even among the rakes of the 
 time ; nor iivas he ever esteemed the less on this ac- 
 
OF THE MIND. 547 
 
 count. At first indeed he thought it a happy victory 
 which he had gained over himself, when he could defy 
 the shame of the world, and resolve to be a Christian in 
 the face of vice and infidelity : He found the shortest 
 way to conquer this foolish shame, was to renounce it 
 at once ; then it was easy to practise singularity amidst 
 a profane multitude. And when he began to get cour- 
 age enough to profess resolute piety without a blush, 
 in the midst of such company as this, Agathus and 
 Eraste then permitted their son to travel abroad, and 
 to see more of the world, under the protection of their 
 daily prayers. His first tour was through the neigh- 
 bouring counties of England ; he afterwards enlarged 
 the circuit of his travels, till he .had visited foreign 
 nations and learned the value of his own.' 
 
 in short, the restraints of his younger j'ears were 
 tempered with so much liberty, and managed with such 
 prudence and tenderness, and these bonds of discipline 
 were so gradually loosened, as fast as he grew wise 
 enough to govern himself, that Eugenio always carried 
 about with him an inward conviction of the great love 
 and wisdom of his parents, and his tutor. The humours 
 of the child now and then felt some reluctance against 
 the pious discipline of his elders ; but now he has arrived 
 to manhood, there is nothing he looks back upon with 
 greater satisfaction than the steps of their conduct, and 
 the instances of his own submission. He often recounts 
 these things with pleasure, as some of the chief favours of 
 heaven, whereby he was guarded through all the dan- 
 gers and follies of youth and childhood, and effectually 
 kept, through divine grace operating by these happy 
 means, from a thousand sorrows, and perhaps from 
 everlasting ruin. 
 
 Though he has been released some years from the 
 strictness of paternal government, yet he still makes 
 his parents his chosen friends ; and though they cease 
 to practise authority upon him and absolute command, 
 yet he pays the utmost deference to their councils, and 
 to the first notice of their inclinations. You shall never 
 find him resisting and debating against their desires and 
 propensities in little common things of life, which are 
 indifferent in themselves ; he thinks it carries in it toa 
 much contempt of those whom Qod and nature require 
 
348 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 him to hononr. In those instances of practice which 
 they utterly forbid in their family, he bears so tender a 
 regard to their peace, that he will scarcely ever allow 
 himself in them, even when he cannot see sufficient 
 reason to pronounce them unlawful. — Nor does he pay 
 this regard to his parents alone ; but denies himself in 
 some gratifications which he esteems innocent, out of 
 regard to wliat he accounts the mistaken judgment of 
 some pious persons with whom he converses and wor- 
 ships. They are weak, perhaps, in their austerities ; 
 hut St. Paul has taught him that the strong ought to 
 bear with tlie infirmities of the w eak, and not to please 
 themselves to the offence of the church of God. This 
 he observed to be the constant practice of Agathns and 
 Eraste ; and he maintains a great regard to the exam- 
 ples of so much piety and goodness, even though his 
 reason does not lead him always to embrace their opin- 
 ions. Whensoever he enters into any important action 
 of life, he takes a filial pleasure to seek advice from his 
 worthy parents ; and it is uneasy to him to attempt any- 
 thing. of moment without it. He does not indeed uni- 
 versally practise all their sentiments ; but he gains their 
 consent to follow his own reason and choice. 
 
 Some of the wild young gentlemen of the age may 
 happen to laugh at him for being so much a boy still, 
 and for showing such subjection to the old folks, as they 
 call them ; with a scornful smile they bid him " break 
 off his leading-strings and cast away his yokes of bon- 
 dage." But for the most part he observes, that the 
 same persons shake off all yokes at once ; and at once 
 break the bonds of nature, duty, and religion ; they 
 pay but little regard to their superior in heaven, any 
 more than to those on earth ; and have forgot God and 
 their parents together. " Nor will I ever be moved, says 
 he, with the reproaches of those who make a jest of 
 things sacred as well as civil, and treat their mother 
 and their Maker with the same contempt." 
 
OF THE MIND. 349 
 
 SECTION XI. 
 
 Of tilt proper Degrees of Liberty and Restraint in the 
 Education of Daughters, illustrated by Examples. 
 
 JLT is necessary that youth should be laid under some 
 restraint. When our inclinations are violent, and our 
 judgment weak, it was a wise provision of God our 
 Creator that we should be under the cowduct of those 
 who were born before us ; and that we should be bound 
 to obey them who have an innate solicitude for our 
 happiness, and are much fitter to judge for our advan- 
 tage than we ourselves can be in that early part of life, 
 
 But it may be said, liberty is so glorious a blessing, 
 that surely it O'lght not utterly to be taken away from 
 the young, lest their spirits be cramped and enslaved, 
 and the growth of their souls so stinted by a narrow 
 and severe Restraint, that they act all their lives like chil- 
 dren under age. Or, sometimes a too rigid confine- 
 ment will have the contrary eflect, and make the impa- 
 tience of youth break out beyond all bounds as soon 
 as ever they get the first relish of freedom. 
 
 But O ! how exceedingly difficult it is to hit the mid-i,.!^ 
 die way ! How hard for parents to manage their own ^ 
 authority with so much gentleness, and to regulate the 
 liberties of their children with so wise a discipline, as to 
 fall into neither extreme, nor give unhappy occasion for \ 
 censure ! Though 1 have spoken my opinion freely, j 
 that it is safer to err on the side of restraint than of ex- / 
 cessive indulgence. 
 
 Antigone hadanexcellentmother, but she died young: 
 Antigone, with her elder sister, from their very infancy 
 were placed under a grandmother's care. The good 
 old gentlewoman trained them up precisely in the 
 forms she herself was educated, when the modes of 
 breeding had, it must be confessed, too much narrow- 
 ness and austerity. She gave them all the good instruc- 
 tions she had received from her ancestors, and would 
 scarcely ever suffer them to be out of her sight. She 
 saw the eldest well married at five and twenty, and set- 
 tled in a course of virtue and religion ; she found her zeal 
 
350 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 and pious care attended with success in several of her 
 posterity, and she departed this life in peace. 
 
 But unhappy Antigone took a different turn ; she 
 was let loose into the world with all her possessions and 
 powers in her own hand ; and, falling into vain com- 
 pany, she got such a taste of unbounded liberty and 
 modish vices, that she could never reflect upon themeth- 
 od of her own education without angry remarks or ridi- 
 cule. 
 
 AVhen she came to have children of her own she still 
 retained the resentment which she had conceived at the 
 conduct of her grandmother, and therefore resolved 
 that her daughters should be brought up in the other 
 extreme. 
 
 " In my younger times, said she, we were kept hard 
 to the labour of the needle, and spent six hours a day 
 at it, as though I were to get my bread by my fingers' 
 ends ; but a little of that business shall serve these chil- 
 dren, for their father has left them good fortunes of 
 their own. 
 
 " We were not suffered to read any thing but the Bi- 
 ble and sermon books ; but I shall teach mine politer 
 lessons out of plays and romances, that they may be 
 acquainted with the world betimes. 
 
 " My eldest sister was scarcely ever allowed to speak 
 in company till she was married, and it was a tiresome 
 length of years before that day came. The old proverb 
 ran thus : A maiden must be seen and not heard ; but 
 I hope my little daughters will not be dumb. 
 
 " We were always confined to dwell at home, unless 
 some extraordinary occasion called us abroad, perhaps 
 once in a month, or twice in a summer. We were 
 taught to play the good housewife in the kitchen and 
 the pastery, and were well instructed in the conduct of 
 the broom and the duster : but we knew nothmg of the 
 modes of the court and the diversions of the town. I 
 should be ashamed to see these young creatures that 
 are under my care so awkward in company at four- 
 teen as I was at four and twenty." 
 
 And thus Antigone brought up her young family of 
 daughters agreeable to her own loose notions ; for she 
 had formed her sentiments of education merely from 
 the aversioa she had conceived to the way of her elders. 
 
OF THE MIND. 351 
 
 and chose the very reverse of their conduct for her rule 
 because their piety and wisdom had a little allay of rig- 
 our and stiffness attending them. 
 
 The young things, under their mother's eye, could 
 manage the tea-table at ten years' old, when they could 
 hardly read a chapter in the New Testament. At 
 fourteen they learned the airs of the world ; they gad 
 abroad at their pleasure, and will hardly suffer Anti- 
 gone to direct them, or to go with them ; they despise the 
 old woman betimes, for they can visit without her atten- 
 dance, and prattle abundantly without her prompting. 
 
 She led or sent them to the play-house twice or 
 thrice in a week, where a great part of their natural 
 modesty is worn off and forgotten : Modesty, the guard 
 of youthful virtue ! they can talk love stories out of 
 Cleopatra ; they are well practised already in the arts 
 of scandal ; and for want of better furniture of mind, 
 emptiness and impertinence, ribands and fashions, gay 
 gentlemen and wanton songs, ever dwell upon their 
 tongues. They have been taught so little to set a guard 
 upon themselves, that their virtue is much suspected. 
 But (be that as it will) they are seized and married before 
 sixteen, being tempted away to bind themselves for life 
 to a laced coat and fashionable wig. Thus children set 
 up at once to govern a family : but so ignorant in all 
 those concerns, that from the garret to the kitchen 
 the whole house is entirely ruled by the humour of the 
 servants, because the young mistress knows not how 
 to instruct or correct them. There is neither religiori 
 nor prudence among them, at home or abroad. Thus 
 they make haste to ruin and misery in this world, witn- 
 out thought or hope of the world to come, and the 
 heaven or the hell that awaits us there. 
 
 Antigone sees her own mistake too late : and though 
 she has not so just a sense or horror of their loose and 
 profane life as would become her years, yet is vexed 
 to see herself neglected so soon, and scorned by her 
 own children ; but she confesses with a sigh, that she 
 has led them the way by laughing so often at her good 
 old grandmother. 
 
 How much wiser is Phronissa in the education that 
 she gives her daughters, who maintains a happy me- 
 dium between the severity of the last age, and the wild 
 
352 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 license of this! She manages her conduct towards 
 them with such an admirable felicity, that though she 
 confines them within the sacred limits of virtue and 
 religion, they have not a wish beyond the libertiei? 
 "which they daily enjoy. 
 
 Phronissa, when her daughters were little children, 
 usf^d to spend some hours daily in the nursery, and 
 taught the young creatures to recite many a pretty pas- 
 sage out of the Bible, before they were capable of read- 
 ing it themselves ; yet at six years old they read the 
 scriptures with ease^ and then they rejoiced to find 
 the same stories in Genesis and in the Gospels which 
 their mother had taught them before. As their years 
 advanced they were admitted into the best conversa- 
 tion, and had such books put into their hands as might 
 acquaint them with the rules of prudence and piety in 
 an easy and familiar way : the reading the lives of 
 eminent persons, who were examples of this kind, 
 was one of the daily methods she used, at once to 
 instruct and entertain them. By such means, and oth- 
 ers which she wisely adapted to their advanced age, 
 they had all the knowledge bestowed upon them 
 that could be supposed proper for women, and that 
 might render their character honourable and useful in 
 the world. 
 
 As for plays and romances, they were ever brei up 
 in a just apprehension of the danger and mischief of 
 them : C^ollier's View of the Stage was early put into 
 their closets, that they might learn there the hideous 
 immorality and profaneness of the English comedies : 
 and by the way, he forbids us to hope from our tragi- 
 cal poets a much safer entertainment. There they 
 might read enough to forbid their attendance on the 
 playhouse ; and see the poison exposed without danger 
 of the infection. The servants that waited on them, 
 and the books that were left within their reach, were 
 such as never corrupted their minds with impure words 
 or images. 
 
 Long has Phronissa known that domestic virtues are 
 the business and the honour of our sex. Nature and 
 history a^ree to assure her that the conduct of the 
 liousehold is committed to the women, and the pre- 
 cepts and examples of scripture confirm it. She edu- 
 
OF THE MIND. S53 
 
 cated her daughters therefore in constant acquaintance 
 with all family affairs, and they knew betimes what be= 
 longed to the provisions of the table, and the furniture 
 of every room. Though her circumstances were con- 
 siderable in the world, yet by her own example she 
 made her children know, that a frequent visit to the 
 kitchen was not beneath their state, nor the common 
 menial affairs t6o mean for their notice, that they might 
 be able hereafter to manage their own house, and hot 
 be directed, imposed upon, and perhaps ridiculed, by 
 their own servants. 
 
 They were initiated early in the science of the nee- 
 dle, and were bred up skilful in all the plain and the 
 flowery arts of it ; but it was never made a task nor a 
 toil to them ; nor did they waste their hours in those 
 nice and tedious works which cost our female ances- 
 tors seven years of their life, and stitches without 
 number. To render this exercise pleasant, one of 
 them always entertained the company with some use- 
 ful author, while the rest v.'ere at work ; every one had 
 freedom and encouragement to start what question she 
 pleased, and to make any remarks on the present sub- 
 ject; that reading, working, and conversation, might 
 fill up the hour with variety and delight. Thus while 
 their hands were making garments for themselves or 
 for the poor, their minds were enriched with treasures 
 of human and divine knowledge. 
 
 At proper se»si||s the young ladies were instructed 
 in the gayer accomplishments of their age ; but they 
 were taught to esteem the song and the dance some 
 of their meanest talents, because they are often forgot- 
 ten in advanced years, and add but little to the virtue, 
 the honour, or the happiness of life. 
 
 Phronissa herself was sprightly and active, and she 
 abhorred a slothful and lazy humour ; therefore she 
 constantly found out same inviting and agreeable em- 
 ployment for her daughters, that thej^ might hate 
 idleness as a mischievous vice, and be trained up to an 
 active and useful life. Yet she perpetually insinuated 
 the superior delights of the closet, and tempted them 
 by all divine methods to the love of devout retirement. 
 Whensoever she seemed to distinguish them by any 
 peculiar favours, it was generally upon some new indi- 
 G g £ 
 
firA IMPROVEMENT 
 
 cation of caily piety, or some young practice of a self 
 denying virtue. 
 
 They were tauglit to receive visits in forms agreeable 
 to the age ; and though they knew the modes of dress 
 sufficiently to secure them from any thing awkward or 
 unfashionable, yet their minds were so well furnished 
 ivith richer vanet}^, that they had no need to run to 
 those poor and trivial topics, to exclude silence and 
 dulncssfrom the drawiiiK-room. They would not give 
 such an affront to the understandings of the ladies their 
 visitants, as to treat them with such meanness and im- 
 pertinence : therefore all this sort of conversation, was 
 reserved almost entirely, for the minutes appointed 
 to the milliner and the tire- woman. 
 
 Here I must publish it to their honour, to provoke 
 the sex to imitation, that though they comported with 
 the fashion in all their ornaments, so far as the fashion 
 was modest and could approve itself to reason or 
 religion, yet Phronissa would not suffer their younger 
 judgments to be so far imposed on by custom, as that 
 the mode should be entirely the measure of all decency 
 to them. She knew there was such a thing as natural 
 harmon}'^ and agieeablcness: in the beauties of colour 
 and figure, her delicacy of taste Avas exquisite : and 
 where the mode run counter to nature, though she in- 
 dulged her daughters to follow it in some innocent in- 
 stances, because she loved not to be remarkably sin- 
 gular in things of indifference, yet sj||; took care always 
 to teach them to distinguish gay Tolly and extrava- 
 gance from natural decencies, both in furniture and in 
 dress : Their rank in the world was eminent ; but they 
 never appeared the first, nor the highest in any new- 
 fangled forms of attire. By her wise examples and 
 instructions she had formed their minds, as to be able 
 to see garments more gaudy, or even more modish 
 than their own, without envy or wishes. They could 
 bear to find a trimming set a little awry, or the plait of 
 a garment ill-disposed, without making the whole house 
 and the day uneasy, and the sun and heavens smile 
 upon them in vain. 
 
 Phronissa taught <^hem the happy art of managing a 
 visit with some useful improvement of the hour, and 
 without offence. If a word of scandal occurred m 
 
OF THE MIND. 355 
 
 company, it was soon diverted or suppressed. The 
 children were charged to speak well of their neighbours^ 
 as far as truth would adraitj and to be silent as to 
 any thing further : but when the poor or the deformed 
 were mentioned in discourse, the aged, the lame, or the 
 blind, those objects were handled with the utmost ten- 
 derness : nothing could displease Phronissa more than 
 to hear a jest thrown upon natural infirmities: she 
 thought there was something sacred in misery, and it 
 was not to be touched with a rude hand. All reproach 
 and satire of this kind was for ever banished where she 
 came ; and if ever raillery was indulged, vice and wil- 
 ful folly were the constant subjects of it. 
 
 Persons of distinguished characters she always dis- 
 tinguished in her respect, and trained up her family to 
 pay the same civilities. — Whensoever she named her 
 own parents, it was with high veneration and love ; and 
 thereby she naturally led her children to give due hon- 
 our to all their superior relatives. 
 
 Though it be the fashion of the age to laugh at the 
 priesthood in all forms, and to teach every boy to scoff 
 at a minister, Phronissa paid double honours to them 
 who laboured in the word and doctrine, where there 
 personal behaviour upheld the dignity of their office ; 
 for she was persuaded St. Paul was a better director 
 than the gay gentlemen of the mode. 1 Tim. v. 17. 
 Besides, she wisely considered, that a contempt of 
 their persons would necessarily bring with it a con- 
 tempt of all their ministrations ; and then she might 
 carry her daughters to church as much as she pleased, 
 but preaching and praying, and all sacred things, would 
 grow despicable and useless when they had first learned 
 to make a jest of the preacher. 
 
 But are these young ladies always confined at home ? 
 Are they never suffered to see the world? Yes, and 
 sometimes without the guard of a mother too ; though 
 Phronissa is so well beloved by her children that they 
 would very seldom choose to go without her. Their 
 souls are inlaid betimes with the principles of virtue and 
 prudence ; these are their constant guard ; nor do they 
 ever wish to make a visit where their mother has rea- 
 son to suspect their safety. 
 
 They have freedom given them in all the common 
 
S5$ IMPROVEMENT, &c. 
 
 affairs of life to choose for themselves ; but thfey take 
 pleasure, for the most part, in referring the choice back 
 again to their elders. JPhronissa has managed the res- 
 traint of their younger years with so much reason and 
 love, that they have seemed all their lives to know 
 nothing but liberty ; and admonition of their parents 
 meets with cheerful compliance, and is never debated. 
 
 A wish or desire has the same power over them now, 
 as a command had in their infancy and childhood ; for 
 the command w^as ever dressfd in the softest lan- 
 gtiage of authority, and this '^ »de every act ofobedience 
 a delight, till it became an habitual pleasure. 
 
 In short, they have been educated with such discre- 
 tion, tenderness, and piety, as have laid a foundation to 
 make them happy and useful in the rising age; tiieir 
 parents wifh pleasure v'w.w the gi owing prospect, and 
 retur'i daiiy thanks to Almighty God, whose blessing 
 h'^H attended their watchful cares, and hasthusfarans- 
 wered their most fervent devotions. 
 
REMNANTS OF TIME, 
 
 EMPLOYED IN 
 
 PROSE AND VERSE: 
 OR, 
 
 SHORT ESSAYS AND COMPOSURES, 
 
 ON 
 VARIOUS SUBJECTS, 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Dr. Watts* s Opinion about publishing these Papers, ap- 
 pears in the following Advertisement, prefixed to them 
 by himself. 
 
 THESE papers were written at several seasons and 
 intervals of leisure, and on various occasions, arising 
 through the greatest part of my life. Many of them 
 were designed to be published among the Reliquce Ju' 
 veniles ; but, for some reason or other, not worth pre- 
 sent notice, were laid by at that time. Whether I shall 
 ever publish them 1 know not, though far the greatest 
 part of them have long stood corrected among my manu- 
 scripts; nor do I suppose many of them inferior to those 
 Essays and remarks ef this kind, which have before 
 appeared in the world with some acceptance. If they 
 are not published in my life-time, my worthy friends, 
 who have the care of my papers, may leave out what 
 they please. 
 
 July 3, 1740. I. W, 
 
KEMNANTS OF TIME, 
 
 EMPLOYED IN 
 
 PROSE AND VERSE, &lc. 
 
 I. Justice and Grace, 
 
 JNeVER was there any hour since the creation of all 
 things, nor ever will be until the last conflagration, 
 wherein the holy God so remarkably displayed his 
 justice and his grace, as that hour which saw our Lord 
 Jesus Christ hanging upon the cross, forsaken of his 
 Father and expiring. W hat a dreadful glory was given 
 to vindictive justice when the great and terrible God 
 made the soul of his own Son a painful sacrifice for 
 sin ! What an amazing instance of grace, that he 
 should redeem such worthless sinners as we are from 
 the vengeance, by exposing his beloved Son to itt 
 When I view the severity or the compassion of that 
 hour, my thoughts are lost in astonishment : it is not 
 for me, it is not for Paul or Apollos, it is not for th^ 
 tongue of men or angels, to say which was greatest, 
 the compassion or the severity. Humble adoration 
 becomes us best, and a thankful acceptance of the par- 
 don that was purchased at so dear a rate. 
 
 Next to this, I know not a more eminent display of 
 terror and mercy, than the dying hour of a pious but 
 desponding Christian, under the tumultuous and dis= 
 quieting temptations of the devil. 
 
 See withm those curtains a person of faith and 
 
 serious piety, but of a melancholy constitution, and 
 
 expecting death. While his flesh is tortured with sharp 
 
 agonies, and terribly convulsedj a ghastly horrgr sits on 
 
 H h 
 
362 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 his countenance, and he groans under extreme anguish. 
 Behold the man, a lavourite of heaven, a child of Hght, 
 assaulted with the darts of hell, and his soul surrounded 
 xvith thick darkness : all his sins stand in dreadful array 
 before him, and threaten him with the execution of ail 
 the curses in the Bihle. Thougli he loves God with all 
 liis heart, he is in the dark, he knows it not, nor can he 
 believe that God has any love for him ; and though he 
 cannot utterly let go his hold of his Saviour and the 
 gospel, yet in his own apprehension he is abandoned 
 both of the Father and the Son. In every new pang 
 that he feels, his own fears persuade him, that the 
 gates of hell are now opening upon him, he hangs ho- 
 vering over the burning pit, and at the last gasp of life, 
 when he seems to be sinking into eternal death, he 
 quits the body with all its sad circumstances, and feels 
 himself safe in the arms of his Saviour, and in the 
 pre:^er)ce of his God. 
 
 What amazing transport ! What agreeable siu-prise ! 
 not to be utt^ired by the words of our scanty mortal 
 l;ingurn!;e, nor conceived but by the person who feels it. 
 The body indeed %vhich was the habitation of so pious 
 a spirit, is demolished at once : behold the lifeless car- 
 case ; it makes haste to putrefaction. — The released 
 soul, in ecstacy, feels and surveys its own happiness, 
 appears before the throne, is acknowledged there as 
 one of the sons of God, and invested with the glories 
 of the upper world. Sorrows and sins, guilt, fetters 
 and darkness vanish for ever: It exults in liberty and 
 light, and dsvells for ever under the smiles of God. 
 
 What was it could provoke the wise and gracious 
 God to permit the wicked spirit to vex one of his own 
 children at tills rate, and to deal so severely with the 
 man whom he loves ? To expose that soul to exquisite 
 anguish in the ilesh which he designed the same day to 
 make a partner with blessed spirits ! To express in one 
 hour so much terror and so much mercy ? 
 
 St. Paul will give a short and plain answer to thi?! 
 inquiry. Rom. viii. 10: '' The body is dead because of 
 sin. but the snirit is life because of righteousness. Hence 
 that anguisn, those agonies and convulsions in the 
 sinful flesh that must die, and these will be felt in some 
 measure by the partner spirit ; though that spirit being 
 
OF THE M1N0. S6& 
 
 vested with divine righteousness, or justified in the 
 sight of God, shall survive these agonies in a peaceful 
 immortality. Though the sufferings of the son of God 
 have redeemed it from an everlasting hell, jet it be- 
 comes the oftended majesty of heaven sometimes to 
 give sensible instances what misery the pardoned 
 sinner has deserved ; and the moment, he receives 6im 
 into full blessedness may, on some accounts, be the 
 fittest to make a display of all his terror, that the soul 
 may have the full taste of felicitj^, and pay ihe highest 
 houours to recovering grace. The demolition of the 
 earthly tabernacle with all the pangs and the groans 
 that attend it, are a shadow of that vengeance which 
 was due even to the best of saints ; it is fit we should 
 see the picture of vindictive justice before we are taken 
 into the arms of eternal mercy. 
 
 Besides, there may be another reason that renders 
 the dying hour of this man more dreadful too : Perhaps 
 he had walked un watchfully before God, and had 
 given too much indulgence to some congenical iniquity, 
 some vice that easily beset him ; new it becomes the 
 great God to write his own hatred of sin in deep and 
 piercing characters, sometimes on his rwn children, 
 that he may let the world know that he is of purer eyes 
 than to behold iniquity any where without resentment. 
 The man had " built much hay and stubble upon the 
 divine foundation of Christ Jesus, and it was proper 
 that he should be saved so as by fire :" 1 Cor. iii. 15. 
 
 Will the Papist therefore attempt to support the 
 structure of his pUrgatory upon such a text as this ? 
 An useless structure, and a vain atten pt ! That place 
 was erected by the superstitious fancy of men, to purge 
 out the sins of a dead man by his own sufferings, and to 
 make him fit for heaven in times hereafter ; as though 
 the atoning blood of Christ were not sufficient for 
 complete pardon, or the sanctifying work of the Spirit 
 were imperfect even after death. Whereas the design 
 of God in some such instances of terror is chiefly to 
 give now and then an example to survivors in this life, 
 how highly he is displeased with sin, and to discourage 
 his own people from an indulgence of the works of 
 the flesh. Now this end could not be attained by all 
 the pains of their pretended purgatory, even though it 
 
364 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 were a real place of torment, because it is so invisible 
 and unknown. 
 
 But whatsoever sorrows the dying Christian sustains 
 in the wise administration of Providence, it is by no 
 jneans to make compensation to God for sin ; the ato- 
 ning work of Christ is complete still, and the sanctify- 
 ing work of the Spirit perfect as soon as the soul is 
 dismissed from earth ; therefore it has an entrance into 
 full blessedness, such as becomes a God infinite in 
 mercy to bestow on a penitent sinner, presented before 
 the throne in the name and r'ghteousness of his own 
 Son. "W^e are complete in him :^^ Col. ii. 10. By him 
 made perfectly acceptable to God at our death, we are 
 filled with all grace, and introduced into complete glory. 
 
 II. Death of a Young Son. In a Letter to a Fi-iend. 
 
 IVlADAM, it has been the delight and practice of the 
 pious in all ages to talk iu the words of scripture, and 
 in the language of their God ; the images of that book 
 are bright and beautiful; and where they happily cor- 
 respond with ;my present providence, there is a certain 
 divine pleasure in the parallel. The Jews have ever 
 ust'd it as a fashionable style, and it has always been 
 the custom of Christians in the most religious times 
 till iniquity and profaneness called it cant and fanati- 
 cism. Tile Evangelists and the Apostles ha<ve justified 
 the practice ; those later inspired authors have often 
 indulged it. even where the Prophet, or first writer of 
 the text, had quite another subject in view ; and though 
 an allusion to the words of scripture will by no means 
 stand iri the place of a proper exposition, yet it carries 
 something divine and effecting in it ; and by this means 
 it may shine in a sermon or a familiar epistle, and 
 makes a pleasing similitude. Accept then a few hints 
 of consolation from a part of scripture, which, by an 
 easy turn of thought, may be applied to your case. 
 
 Rev. xii. 1. "A woman clothed with the sun, and 
 the moon under her feet ; v. 2. Being with child, 
 travailed in birth ; v. 5. And she brought forth a man- 
 child, and it was caught up to God and his throne ; v. 6. 
 And the woman had a place prepared of God in thft 
 wilderness ; v. 14. To be nourished for a time and 
 
OF THE MTND. 365 
 
 times ; v. 9. But the great dragon that was cast out 
 of heaven, the old serpent called the devil and Satan,. 
 V. 13, Persecuted the woman; v. 15. And cast out of 
 his mouth v/ater as a flood, v. 17. And went to make 
 war with the remnant of her seed." 
 Thus far the words of scripture. — 
 Now, Madam, if you have put on Christ, and are 
 dothed by faith with the Sun of Righteousness; if 
 you are drestin the shining graces of heaven, and have 
 the pale and changing glories of this world under your 
 feet ; then you may be assured that the child you have 
 brought forth is not lost, but is caught up to God and 
 his throne by virtue of that extensive covenant which 
 includes sincere Christians and their offspring together. 
 Mourn not therefore for»your son, who is with God, 
 but rather for yourself, who are yet in the wilderness of 
 this world, where the old serpent has so much power; 
 where he will persecute you with the flood of his temp- 
 tations, if possible to carry you away with them : But 
 I trust God has prepared a place for your safety, even 
 his church, his gospel, and his own everlasting arms. 
 
 Yet shall the serpent make war with the remnant of 
 your seed ; your little daughter that remains in the 
 wilderness must go through this war, and be exposed 
 to these temptations. O turn your tears for your son 
 into pity and prayer for yourself and your daughter, 
 that ye may never be carried away by these floods ; 
 but when the times are past which God has appointed 
 for your abode and nourishment in the wilderness, you 
 may rejoice to find yourself with < 11 your offspring in 
 everlasting safety before the throne of God. Amen. 
 So prays your affectionate, &:c» 
 May ^,17 id, 1. W. 
 
 III. Hecdhen Poesy Christianized. 17S6. 
 
 XT is a piece of ancient and sacred history which Moses 
 informs us of, that when the tribes of Israel departed 
 from the land of Egypt, they borrowed of their neigh- 
 bours gold and jewels, by the appointment of God, for 
 the decoration of their sacrifices and solemn worship, 
 when they should arrive at the appointed place in the 
 H h 2 ' 
 
366 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 wilderness. God himself taught his people how the 
 richest of metals which had ever been abused to the 
 worship of idols, might be purified by the fire, and being 
 melted up into a new form, might be consecrated to 
 the service of the living God, and add to the magnifi- 
 cence and grandeur of his tabernacle and temple. 
 Such are some of the poetical writings of the ancient 
 Heathens ; they have a great deal of native beauty arid 
 lustre in them ; and through some happy turn given 
 them by the pen of a Christian poet, may be transfor- 
 med into divine meditations, ana may assist the devout 
 and pious soul in several parts of the Christian life and 
 worship. 
 
 Amongst all the rest of the Pagan writers I know 
 none so fit for this service as the Odes of Horace, as 
 Tile a sinner as he was. Their manner of composure 
 comes nearer the spirit and force of the Psalms of David 
 than any other ; and as we take the devotions of the 
 Jewish King, and bring them into our Christian church- 
 es, by changing the scene and the chronology, and 
 superadding some of the glories of the gospel, so may 
 the representation ofsomeof the heathen virtues, by a 
 little more labour, be changed into Christian graces, or 
 at least into the image of them, so far as human power 
 can reach. One day musing on this subject, 1 made an 
 experiment on the two last stanzas of Ode 29, Book HI. 
 
 J^on meum est, si mugiat Africis 
 Malusprocellis, ad miser as preces 
 Decurere, et voiis jiacisci-, 
 JVe CypricB Tyri(zque merces 
 Jiddant avaro divitias mari. 
 Tunc me biremis prasidio scaphcE, 
 Tutum per JEgeos tumult us 
 Aura feret, geminusque Pollux. 
 
 IV The British Fisherman. 
 
 Let Spain's proud traders when the mast 
 Bends groaning to Ihe stormy blast, 
 Run to their beads with wretched plaints,. 
 And vow and bargain with their saints. 
 Lest Turkish silks or Tyran wares 
 Sink in the drowning ship ; 
 
OF THE MIND. SG7 
 
 Or the rich dust Peru prepares 
 Defraud their long projection cares, 
 And add new treasures to the greedy deep. 
 
 II. 
 
 My little skiff that skims the shores. 
 
 With half a sail and two short oars, 
 
 Provides me food in gentler waves : 
 
 But if they gape in watery graves, 
 
 I trust the eternal power, whose hand 
 Has swell'd the storm so high, 
 To waft my boat and me to land, 
 Or give some angel swift command 
 
 To bear the drowning sailor to the sky, 
 
 V. Redemption. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE mighty frame of glorious grace, 
 That brightest monument of praise 
 That e're the God of love design'd, 
 Employs and fills my labouring mind. 
 
 If. 
 
 Begin, my muse, the heav'uly song, 
 A burden for an angel's tongue : 
 When Gabriel sounds these awful IhingS; 
 He tunes and summons all his strings. 
 
 III. 
 
 Proclaim inimitable love : 
 Jesus, the Lord of worlds above, 
 Puts off the beams of bright array, 
 And veils the God in mortal clay. 
 
 IV. 
 
 What black reproach defil'd his name, 
 When with our sin he took our shame ! 
 The power whom kneeling angels blest, 
 Is made the impious rabble's jest. 
 
 V. 
 He that distributes crowns and thrones, 
 Hangs on a tree, and bleeds and groan.s ; 
 
368 IMPROVEMENI^ 
 
 The Prince of life resigus his breath. 
 The king of glory bows to death. 
 
 VI. 
 
 But see the woiiders of his pow'r, 
 He (riuniphs in his dying hour ; 
 And whilst by Satan's rao;e he fell, 
 He dash'd the rising hopes of hell. 
 
 VII. 
 Thus were the hosts of death subdu'd, 
 And sin was drown'd in Jesus' blood ; 
 Then he arose, and reigns above, 
 And conquers sinners by his love. 
 
 If I could pursue all the wondrous achievements of a dy- 
 ing and a rising Saviour in verse, as fast and as far as my 
 thoughts sometinjes attempt to trace then); I should lengthen 
 this Ode to manv stanzas, and yet at last 1 should lose both 
 my thoughts and my verse amongst the unknown wonder'' 
 of his glory, and the ages of eternity. 
 
 Who shall fulfil this boundless song ? 
 
 What vain pretender dares .'' 
 The theme surmounts an angel's tongue- 
 
 And Gabriel's harp despairs.* 
 
 VI . — Complaint and Hope under great Pain . 1 73(>. 
 
 I. 
 LORD, I am pain'd ; but I resign 
 
 To thy superior will : 
 'Tis grace, 'tis wisdom all divine 
 
 Appoints the pains I leel. 
 
 IT. 
 
 Dark are thy ways of providence, 
 W*hiist those that love thee groan : 
 
 ■'• In this Ode tliere are three or four lines taken from Mr. Stonnet's 
 Saci-amentai Hymns -, for when I found they expressed my thougJjt and 
 design in proper and beautiful language, I chose raiher to borrow and 
 acknowledge the debt, than to labour hard for worse lines, that 1 might 
 iiave the poor pleasure of calling them my own. 
 
t)F THE MIND. SCO 
 
 Tby reasons He conceal'd from sense; 
 Mysterious and unknown. 
 
 III. 
 
 Yet nature may have leave to speak, 
 
 And plead before her God, 
 Lest the o'erburden'd heart should bre«k 
 
 Beneath thy heavy rod. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Will nothing but such daily pain 
 
 Secure my soul from hell ? 
 Canst thou not make my health attain 
 
 Thy kind designs as well .? 
 
 V. 
 
 How shall my tongue proclaim thy grace 
 
 While thus at home confin'd .'' 
 What can I write, while painful flesh 
 
 Hangs heavy on the mind ? 
 
 VI. 
 
 These groans, and sighs, and flowing tears ; 
 
 Give my poor spirit ease, 
 While every groan my father hears, 
 
 And ev'ry tear he sees. 
 
 VJI. 
 Is not some smiling hour at hand, 
 
 With peace upon its wings ? 
 Give it, God ! thy swift cGmmand, 
 
 With all the joys it brings. 
 
 VII. — On an Elegy writttnhy the Right Honeurable the Conn: 
 ttss of Hertford, on the Death of Mrs. Roxve. 1737. 
 
 STRUCK with the sight of Philomela's urn, 
 Eusebia weeps, and calls her muse to mourn ,; 
 While from her lips the tuneful sorrows felL 
 The groves confess a rising Philomel. 
 
870 LMPROVEMENf 
 
 VIII. — Dr. Young's admirable Description of the Peacock, en- 
 larged. 
 
 VIEW next the Peacock : What bright glories run 
 From plume to plume, and vary in the sun ? 
 Proudly he boasts, then to the heavenly ray, 
 Gives all his colours, and adorns the day. 
 Was it thy pencil, Job, divinely bold, 
 Drest his rich form in azure, green, and gold ? 
 Thy hand his crest with starry radiance crown'd, ) 
 
 Or spread his sweepy irain ? His train disdains the ground, / 
 And kindles living lamps through all the spacious round. ; 
 Mark with what conscious state the bird displays 
 His native gems, and 'midst the waving blaze 
 On the slow step of majesty he moves, 
 Asserts his honours, and demands his loves. 
 
 IX. Vanity inscribed on all Tilings. 
 
 X IME, like a long flowing stream, makes haste into 
 eternity and is for ever lost and swallowed up there ; and, 
 while it is hastening to its period, it sweeps away all 
 things with it which are not immortal. There is a limit 
 appoi.ited by Providence to the duration of all the plea- 
 sant and desirable scenes of life, to all the works of'the 
 hands of men, with all the glories and excellencies of 
 animal nature, and all that is made of flesh and blood. 
 Let us not doat upon any thing here below, for heaven 
 hath inscribed vanity upon it. The moment is hasten- 
 ing when the decree of heaven shall be uttered, and Pro- 
 vidence shall pronounce upon every glory of the earth, 
 " Its time shall be no longer^ 
 
 What is that stately building, that princely palace, 
 ■which now entertains and amuses our sight with ranks 
 of marble columns, and wide spreading arches, that gay 
 edifice which enriches our imagination with a thousand 
 royal ornaments, and a profusion of costly and glit- 
 tering furniture ? Time and all its circling hours, with 
 a swift wing are brushing away : decay steals upon it 
 insensibljr, and a few years hence it shall lie in moul- 
 dering ruin and desolation. Unhappy possessor, if he 
 have no better inheritance I 
 
OF THE MIND. 371 
 
 What are those fine and elegant gardens, those delight- 
 ful walks, those gentle ascents and soft declining hopes, 
 which raise and sink the eye by turns to a thousand 
 vegetable pleasures ? How lovely are those sweet bor- 
 ders, and those growing varieties of bloom and fruitj 
 which recal lost paradise to mind ! Those lovely par- 
 terres which regale the sense with vital fragrancy, and 
 make glad the sight by their refreshing verdure and 
 intermingled flowery beauties! The scythe of time is 
 passing over them all ; they wither, they die away, 
 they drop and vanish into duvst ; their duration is short ; 
 a few months deface all their yearly glories, and with- 
 in a few years, perhaps all these rising terras walks, these 
 gentle verging declivities, shall lose all order and ele- 
 gance, and become a rugged heap of ruins ; those well 
 distinguished borders and parterres shall be levelled in 
 confusion, and^thrown into common earth again, for the 
 ox and the ass to graze upon. Unhappy man, who 
 possesses this agreeable spot of ground, if he have no 
 paradise more durable than this-! 
 
 And no wonder that these labours of the hands of 
 men should perish, when even the works of God are 
 perishable ! 
 
 . What are the^e visible heavens, those lower skies, 
 and this globe of the earth ? They are indeed the glori- 
 ous workmanship of the Almighty. But they are wax- 
 ing old, and waiting their perioi too, when the angel 
 shall pronounce upon them that time shall be no more. 
 The heavens shall be folded up as a vesture, the ele- 
 ments of the lower world shall melt with a fervent heat, 
 and the earth, and ail the works thereof, shall be burnt 
 with fire. May the unruinable world be but my por- 
 tion, and the heaven of heavens my inheritance, which 
 is built for an eternal mansion for the sons of God: 
 These buildings shall outlive time and nature, and ex- 
 ist through unknown ages of felicity ! 
 
 What have we mortals to be proud of in our present 
 state, when every human glory is so fugitive and fad- 
 i ng ? Let the brightest and the best of us say to ourselves, 
 that we are but dust and vanity. 
 
 Is m)'- body formed upon a graceful model ? Are my 
 limbs well turned, and ray complexion better coloured 
 than my neighbour!s ? Beauty even in perfection, is of 
 
37)2 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 the shortest date : A few years will inform me that 'lis 
 bloom vanishes, its flower withers, its lustre grows 
 dim, its duration shall be no longer ; and, if life be 
 prolonged, yet the pride and glory of it is for ever lost 
 in age and wrinkles ; or perhaps our vanity meets a 
 speedier fate. Death and the grave, with a sovereign 
 and irresistible command, summon the brightest as 
 well as the coarset pieces of human nature, to lie down 
 early in their cold embraces ; and at last they must all 
 mix together, amongst worms and corruption. 
 
 ^sop the deformed, and Helena the fair, are lost and 
 imdistinguished in common earth. Nature, in its gaj'- 
 est bloom, is but a painted vanity. 
 
 Are my nerves Avell strung and vigorous ? Is my ac- 
 tivity and strength far superior to my neighbour's in the 
 days of youth ? But youth hath its appointed limit: age 
 steals upon it, unstrings the nerves, and makes the force 
 of nature languish into infirmity and feebleness. Samp- 
 son and Goliath would have lost their boasted advan- 
 tages of stature and their braAvny limbs, in the course 
 of half a century, though the one had esc<'>ped the sling 
 of David, and the other the vengance of his own hands 
 in the ruin of Dagon's temple. Man, in his best estate, 
 is a flying shadow, and vanity. 
 
 Even those nobler powers of human life, which seem 
 to have something angelical in them, I mean the powers 
 of wit and fancy, ga]/^ imagination, and capacious mem- 
 ory, they are all subject to the same laws of decay and 
 death. What though they can raise and animate beau- 
 tiful scenes in a moment, and, in imitation of creating 
 power, can spread bright appearances and new worlds 
 before the senses and the souls of their friends ? What 
 though they can entertain the better part of mankind, 
 the refined and polite world, with high delight and rap- 
 ture ? These scenes of rapturous delight grow flat and 
 old by a frequent review, and the very powers that 
 raised them grow feeble apace. What though they can 
 raise immortal applause and fame to their possessors ? 
 It is but the immortality of an empty name, a mere 
 succession of the breath of men, and it is a short sort 
 of immortality too, which must die and perish when 
 this world perishes. A poor shadow of duration in- 
 deed, while the real period of these powers is hastening 
 
OF THE MIND. 373 
 
 every day ; they languish and die as fast as animal na- 
 ture, which has a large share in them, makes haste to its 
 decay ; and the time of their exercise shall shortly be 
 no more. 
 
 In vain the aged poet or the painter would call up the 
 muse and genius of their youth, and summon all the arts 
 of their imagination, to spread and dress out some vis- 
 ionary scene ; in vain the elegant orator would recal the 
 bold and masterly figures, and all those flowery images 
 which give ardour, grace, and dignity to his younger 
 composures, and charmed every ear ; they are gone, 
 they are fled beyond the reach of the owner's call ; their 
 time is past, they are vanished and lost beyond all hope 
 of recovery. 
 
 The God of nature has pronounced an impassable pe- 
 riod upon all the powers, and pleasures, and glories of 
 this mortal state. Let us then be afraid to make any of 
 them our boast or our happiness, but point our affec- 
 tions to those diviner objects, whose nature is everlast- 
 ing ; let us seek those religious attainments, and those 
 new created powers of a sanctified mind, concerning 
 which it shall never be pronounced, that their time shall 
 be no longer. 
 
 O msLj every one of us be humbly content at the call 
 of heaven, to part with all that is pleasing or magnificent 
 here on earth ; let us resign even these agreeable tal- 
 ents when the God of nature demands ; and when the 
 hour arrives that shall close our eyes to all visible things, 
 and lay our fleshly structure in the dust, let us yield up 
 our whole selves to the hands of our Creator, who shall 
 reserve our spirits with himself; and while we cheerful- 
 ly give up all that was mortal to the grave, we may lie 
 down full of the joyful hope of a rising immortality. 
 New and unlvnown powers and glories, brighter flames 
 of imagination, richer scenes of wit and fancy, and di- 
 viner talents are preparing for us when we shall awake 
 from the dust, and the mind itself, shall have its faculties 
 in a sublime state of improvement. These shall make 
 us equal, if not isuperior to angels, for we arc nearer 
 akin to the Son of God than they are, and thprefore we 
 shall be made more like. him. 
 I i 
 
374 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 X. The rake reformed in the House of Mournin^i 
 
 £ LORINO was young and idle ; he gave himself up 
 to all the diversions of the town, and roved wild among 
 the pleasures of sense ; nor did he confine himself with- 
 in the limits of virtue, or withhold his heart from any 
 forbidden joy. Often hath he been heard to ridicule 
 marriage, and affirm that no man can mourn heartily 
 for a dead wife ; for then he hath leave by the law to 
 choose a new companion, to riot in all the gayer scenes 
 of a new courtship, and perhaps to advance his for- 
 tune too. 
 
 When he heard of the death of Serena, " Well, said 
 he, " I will ^o visit my friend Lucius, and rally him a 
 little on this occasion." He went the next day, in all 
 the wantonness of his heart, to fulfil his design, inhu- 
 man and barbarous as it was, and to sport with solemn 
 sorrow. But when Lucius appeared, the man of gaiety 
 was strangely surprised ; he saw such a sincere and in- 
 imitable distress sitting on his countenance, and discov- 
 ering itself in every air and action, that he dropt his 
 cruel purpose, his soul began to melt, and he assumed 
 the comforter. 
 
 Florino's methods of consolation were all drawn from 
 two topics : some from fate and necessity, advising an 
 heroic indolence about unavoidable events, which arc 
 past and cannot be reversed ; and some were derived 
 from the various amusements of life which call the soul 
 abroad, and divide and scatter the thoughts, and suffer 
 not the mind to attend to its inward anguish. " Come, 
 Lucius," said he, " come, smooth your brows a little, 
 and brighten up for an hour or two. Come along with 
 me to a concert this evening, where you shall hear 
 some of the best pieces of music that were ever com- 
 posed, and performed by some of the best hands that 
 ever touched an instrument. To-morrow I will wait on 
 you to the play, or if you please to the new opera, where 
 the scenes are so surprising and gay, they would almost 
 tempt an old hermit from his beloved cell, and call 
 back his years to three-and-twenty. Come, my friend, 
 what have the living to do with the dead ? Do but 
 forget your grievances a little, and they will die too ; 
 tome, shake off the spleen, divert your heart with 
 
OF THE MIND. 875 
 
 the entertainments of wit and melody, and call away 
 3rour fancy from these gloomy and useless contempla- 
 tions." Thus he ran on in his own way of talking, and 
 opened to his mourning friend the best springs of com- 
 fort that he was acquainted with. 
 
 Lucius endured this prattle as long as he was able to 
 endure it, but it had no manner of influence to staunch 
 the bleeding wound, or to abate his smarting sorrows. 
 His pain waxed more intense by such sort of applica- 
 tions, and the grief soon grew too unruly to contain 
 itself. 
 
 Lucius then asked leave to retire a little : Florino fol- 
 lowed him softly at a distance to the door of his closet, 
 ■where indeed he observed not any of the rules of civil- 
 ity or just decency, butplaced himself near enough to lis- 
 ten how the passion took its vent ; and there he heard 
 the distressed Lucius mourning over Serena's death in 
 such language as this : 
 
 What did Florino talk about ? Necessity and Fate ? 
 Alas ! this is my misery, that so painful an event cannot 
 be reversed, that the divine will has made it fate, there 
 is a necessity of my enduring it. 
 
 Plays, and music, and operas ! What poor trifles arc 
 these to give ease to a wounded heart ! To a heart that 
 has lost its choicest half! A heart that lies bleeding in 
 deep anguish under such a keen parting stroke, and the 
 
 long, long absence of my Serena ! She is gone. The 
 
 desire of mine eyes and the delight of my soul is gone. 
 The first of earthly comforts, and the best of mor- 
 tal blessings. She is gone, and she has taken with 
 
 her all that was pleasant, all that could brighten the 
 gloomy hours of life, that could soften the cares, and 
 relieve the burdens of it. — She is gone, and the best 
 portion and joy of my life is departed. Will she never 
 return, never come back and bless my eyes again ? No — 
 never, never ! — She will no more come back to visit this 
 wretched world, and to dry these weeping eyes. That 
 best portion of my life, that dearest blessing is gone, 
 and will return no more, Sorrows in long succession 
 await me while I live ; all my future days are marked 
 out for grief and darkness ! Let the man who feels no 
 inward pain at the loss of such a partner, dress his 
 dwelling in black shades and dismal formalities : Let 
 
576 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 him draw the curtains of darkness around him, and 
 teach his chambers a fashionable mourning ; but real 
 anguish of heart needs none of these modish and dis- 
 sembled sorrows. My soul is hung round wirh dark 
 images in all her apartments, and every scene is sincere 
 lamentation and death. 
 
 1 thought once 1 had some pretences to the courage 
 of a man : but this is a season of untried distress : — I 
 now shudder at a thought, 1 start at shadows, my 
 spirits are sunk, and horror has taken hold of me. I 
 feel passions in me that were unknown before ; love 
 has Its own proper grief and its peculiar anguish. 
 Mourning love has those agonies and those sinkings of 
 spirit which are known only to bereaved and virtuous 
 lovers. 
 
 I stalk about like a ghost, in musing silence, till "the 
 gathering sorrow grows too big for the heart, and bursts 
 out into Aveak and unmanly wailings. Strange and 
 overwhelming stroke indeed ! It has melted all the 
 man within me down to softness ; my nature is gone 
 back to childhood again ; I would maintain the dignity 
 of my age and my sex, but these eyes rebel and betray 
 me ; the eyelids are full, they overflow ;~the drops of 
 love and grief tiickle down my cheeks, and plough the 
 furrows of age there before their time. 
 
 How often in a day are those sluices opened afresh ! 
 The sight of every friend that knew her calls up my 
 weakness, and betrays my frailty. I am quite ash;im- 
 ed of myself. "What shall I do ? Is there nothing of 
 manhood left about my heart? I will resist the passion, 
 I will struggle with nature, I will grow indolent and 
 forbid my tears. Alas ! poor feeble wretch that I 
 am ! in vain I struggle ; in vain 1 resist: Tive assumed 
 indolence vanishes : the real passion works within, it 
 swells and bears down all before it : the torrent rises 
 and prevails hourly, and nature will have its way. 
 Even the Son of God, when he became man, was 
 found weeping at the tomb of a darling friend. Laza- 
 rus died I and Jesus wept ! 
 
 O my soul, what shall I do to relieve this heart-ache 
 How shall I cure this painful sensibility ? Is there no 
 opiate will reach it.^ Whither shall I go to leave mj 
 sorrows behind me ? I wander from one room to an^ 
 
OF THE MIND. 377 
 
 other, and wherever I go I still seem to seek her, but 
 I miss her still. My imagination flatters me with her 
 lovely image, and tempts me to doubt, is she dead 
 indeed ? My fond imagination would fain forget her 
 death-bed, and impose upon my hope that I shall find 
 her somewhere. I visit her apartment, I steal into her 
 closet : In days past when I have missed her in the 
 parlour, how often have I found the dear creature in 
 thatheloved corner of the house, that sweet place of 
 divine retirement and converse with heaven ! But 
 even that closet is empty now. I go thither, and I 
 retire in disappointment and confusion. 
 
 Methinks I should meet her in some of her walks, 
 in some of her family cares, or her innocent amuse- 
 ments : I should see her face, methinks I should hear 
 
 her voice, and exchange a tender word or two. 
 
 Ah, foolish rovings of a distressed or disquieted fancy ! 
 jEvery room is empty and silent ; closet, parlours, 
 chambers, all empty, all silent ; and that very silence 
 and emptiness proclaim my sorrows : Even emptiness 
 and deep silence join to confess the painful loss. 
 
 Shall 1 try then to put her quite out of my thoughts, 
 since she will come no more within the reach of my 
 senses ? Shall I loosen the fair picture, and drop it from 
 my heart, since the fairer original is for ever gone ? Go, 
 then, fair picture, go from my bosom, and appear to my 
 soul no more. Hard word ! but it must be done : Go, 
 depart thou dearest form ; thou most lovely of images, 
 go from my heart ; thy presence is now too painful in 
 that tender part of me. O unhappy word ! Thy 
 presence painful ! A dismal change indeed ! When 
 thou wert wont to arise and show thyself there, graces 
 and joys were wont to arise and show themselves ; 
 graces and joys went always with her ; nor did her 
 image ever appear without them, till that dark and 
 bitter day that spread the vail of death over h«r : But 
 her image, drest in that gloomy vail, hath lost all the 
 attendant joys and graces. Let her picture vanish 
 from my soul then, since it has lost those endearing 
 attendants ; let it vanish away into forgetfulness, for 
 death has robbed it of every grace and every joy. 
 
 Yet stay a little there, tempting image, let' me once 
 more survey thee ; stay a little moment, and let m© 
 lis 
 
378 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 take one last glance, one solemn farewell. Is there not 
 something in the resemblance of her too lovely still to 
 have it quite banished from my heart ? Can 1 set my 
 soul at work to try to forget her ? Can I deal so un- 
 kindly with one who Avould never have forgotten me? 
 Can my soul live without her image on it ? Is it not 
 stamped there too deep ever to be effaced ? 
 
 Metbinks 1 feel all my heartstrings wrapt around her, 
 and groAv so fast to that dear picture in my fanc^, they 
 seem to be rooted thore. To be divided from it is to 
 die. Why should I then pusue so vain and fruitless 
 an attempt? AVhat ! forget myself, forget my life! 
 IVo ; it cannot be ; nor can I bear to think of such a 
 rude and cruel treatment of an image so much deserv- 
 ing and so much beloved. — Neither passion nor reason 
 permits me to forget her, nor is it within my power. 
 She is present to almost all my thoughts ; she is with 
 me in all my motions : grief has arrows with her name 
 upon them that stick as fast and as deep as those of 
 love ; they cleave to my vitals wheresoever I go, but 
 with a quicker sensation and a keener pain. Alas ! it is 
 love and grief together that have shot all their arrows 
 into my hf^art, and filled every vein with acute anguish 
 and long distress. 
 
 Whither then shall I fly to find solace and ease ? I can- 
 not depart from myself ; I cannot abandon these ten- 
 der and smarting sensations. Shall I quit the house 
 and all the apartments of it which renew her dear 
 memory ? Shall 1 rove in these open fields which lie 
 near my dAvelling, and spread wide their pleasing 
 verdure ? Shall I give my soul a loose to all nature 
 that smiles around me, or shnll I confine my daily 
 walk to this shady and delightful garden ? Oh, no : 
 neither of these will relieve my anguish. Serena has 
 too often blessed me with her company, both in this 
 garden, and in these fields. Her very name seems 
 written on every tree : 1 shall think of her, and fancy 
 I see her in every step I take. Here she pressed the 
 ;i;rass with her feet ; here she gathered violets and roses 
 and refreshing herbs, and gave the lovely collection of 
 sweetness into my hand. But, alas ! the sweetest 
 violet and the fairest rose is fallen, is withered, and is 
 no more. Farewell then, ye fields and gardens, with 
 
6F THE MIND. 573 
 
 all your varieties of green and flowery joys ! Ye are all a 
 desert, a barren wilderness, since Serena has for ever 
 left you, and will be seen there no more. 
 
 But can friends do nothing to comfort a mourner ? 
 Come, my wise friends, surround me, and divert my 
 cares with your agreeable conversation. Can books 
 afford no relief ? Come, my books, ye volumes of 
 knowledge, ye labours of the learned dead ; come, fill 
 up my hours with some soothing amusement. I call 
 my better friends about me. I fly to the heroes and 
 the philosophers of ancient ages, to employ my soul 
 among ihem. But, alas ! neither learning nor books 
 amuse me, nor green and smiling prospects of nature 
 delight me, nor convereation with my wisest and best 
 friends can entertain me in these dark and melancholy 
 hours. Solitude, solitude, in some unseen corner, 
 some lonely grotto overgrown with shades ; this is my 
 dearest choice ! Let me dwell in my beloved solitude, 
 where none shall come near me ; midnight and soli- 
 tude are the most pleasing things to a man who is 
 weary of day-light, and of all the scenes of this visible 
 and busy world. I would eat and drink and dwell 
 alone ; though this lonesome humour soothes and 
 gratifies the painful passion, and gives me up to the 
 tyranny of my sharpest sorrows. Strange mixture 
 that I am made of ! 1 mourn and grieve even to death, 
 and yet f seem fond of nothing but grief and mourning. 
 
 Wo is me ! Is there nothing on earth can divert, 
 nothing relieve me ? Then let my thoughts ascend to 
 paradise and heaven, there I shall find her better part ; 
 and grief must not enter there. From this hour take 
 a new turn, O my soul, and never think of Serena but 
 as shining and rejoicing among the spirits of the blest, 
 and in the presence of her God. Rise often in holy 
 meditation to the celestial world, and betake thyself to 
 more intense piety. Devotion has wings that will bear 
 thee high above the tumults and passions of lower 
 life : devotion will direct and speed thy flight to a 
 country of brighter scenes. 
 
 Shake off this earthliness of mind, this durt of 
 mortality that hangs about thee ; rise upward often m 
 an hour, and dwell much in those regions whither thy 
 devout partner is gone : thy better half is safely arrived 
 
M9 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 there, and that world knows nothing but joy and love. 
 She is gone ; the prophets and the apostles and the 
 best of departed souls have marked out her way to 
 heaven : bear witness, ye apostles and holy prophets, 
 ye best of departed souls, bear witness, that 1 am 
 seeking to follow her in the appointed moment. Let 
 the wheels of nature and time roll on apace in their 
 destined way. Let suns and moons arise and set 
 apace, and light a lonesome traveller onward to his 
 home. Blessed Jesus, be thou my hving leader : 
 Virtue and the track of Serena's feet be my daily and 
 delightful path. The track leads upward to the regions 
 of love and joy. How can I dare to wander from the 
 
 Eath of virtue, lest I lose that beloved track ! Remem- 
 er, () my soul, her footsteps are found in no other 
 road ! 
 
 If my love to virtue should ever fail me, the steps of 
 my vSerena would mark out my way, and help to secure 
 me from wandering. O may the kind influences of 
 heaven descend from above, and establish and guard 
 my pious resolutions ? May the divine powers of reli- 
 gion be my continual strength, and the hope of eternal 
 things my never-failing support, till I be dismissed from 
 this prison of the flesh, and called to ascend to the spi- 
 rits of the just made perfect : till I bid adieu to all that 
 is not immortal, and go to dwell with my God and my 
 adored Saviour: There shall I find my lost Serena again, 
 and share with her the unutterable joys of paradise. 
 
 Here Lucius threw himself on the couch, and lay 
 silent in profound meditation. 
 
 When Florino had heard all this mournful rhapsody 
 he retired and stole away in secret, for he was now 
 utterly ashamed of his first barbarous design : he felt a 
 sort of strange sympathy of sorrow, such as he never 
 knew before ; and with it some sparks of virtue began 
 to kindle in his bosom. Ashe mused, the fire burnt 
 within, and at last it made its way to his lips, and ven- 
 ted itself: " Well (said he) I have learnt two excellent 
 lessons to-day, and I hope I shall never forget them. 
 There must be some vast and unknown pleasure in a 
 virtuous love, beyond all the madness of wild and tran- 
 sient amours ; otherwise, the loss of the object could 
 never have wrought such deep and unfeigned wo ia 
 
OF THE MIND. 381 
 
 a soul so firm and manly as that of Lucius. 1 begia 
 now to believe what Milton sung ; — though I alway« 
 read the lines before as mere poesy and fable. 
 
 " Hail, wedded love, mysterious law, true source 
 
 Of human offspring, sole propriety 
 
 In paradise, of all things common else : 
 
 By thee adulterous lust was drivn from men, 
 
 Among the bestial herds to range ; by thee, 
 
 Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 
 
 Relations dear, and all the charities 
 
 Of father, son, and brother, first were known : 
 
 Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets. 
 
 Here love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
 
 His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 
 
 Reigns here and revels ; not in the bought smile 
 
 Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd. 
 
 Casual amourg, mixt dance, or wanton mask. 
 
 Or midnight ball, &c. 
 
 " Blessed poet ! that could so happily unite love anS 
 virtue, and draw so beautiful a scene of real felicity, 
 which till this day I always thought was merely roman- 
 tic and visionary ! Lucius has taught me to under- 
 stand these lines, for he has felt them ; and methinks 
 while I repeat them now, 1 feel a strange new sensa- 
 tion. I am convinced the blind poet saw deeper into 
 nature and truth than I could have imsgined. There is, 
 there is such a thing as a union of virtuous souls, where 
 happiness is only found. I find some glimmerings of 
 fsacred light rising upon me, some unknown pantings 
 within after such a partner and such a life. 
 
 " Nor is the other lesson which I have learnt at all 
 inferior to this ; but in truth it is of higher and more 
 durable importance. I confess, since I was nineteen 
 years old, I never thought virtue and religion had been 
 good for any thing, but to tie up children from mischief, 
 and frighten fools : but now I find, by the conduct of 
 my friend Lucius, that as the sweetest and sincerest joys 
 of life are derived from virtue, so the most distressing 
 sorrows may find a just relief in religion and sincere 
 piety. Hear me, tlwu almighty Maker of my frame, 
 pity and assist a returning wanderer : and O may thy 
 
88£ IMPROVEMENT 
 
 hand stamp these lessons upon my soul iu everlasting; 
 characters !" 
 
 XI. Thou hast received Gifts for Mc7i. Psa. Ixviii. 18. 
 
 Jesus the Mediator emptied himself for our sakes,. 
 when he descended to earth in order to die for us, andi 
 by his death to subdue our enemies. Now the Father 
 has filled him agjiin at his ascent into heaven with 
 every glory and every blessing, with all authority and 
 power to bestow blessings, graces, and glories on the 
 sons of men. " It pleased the Father that in him all' 
 fullness should dwell. All power in heaven and earth > 
 was given into his hands." Col. i. 19. Matt, xxviii. 18. 
 And when he received the power he distributed the 
 blessings. See Acts ii. 33. Being by the right hand of 
 God exalted, and having received of the Father the 
 promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this, 
 which ye now see and hear. He hath shed abroad 
 miracles and graces in abundance amongst the inhabi- 
 tants of the lower world. 
 
 The triumphs of majesty must have some mercy in 
 them, and ensigns of victory must be interwoven with 
 signal displays of bounty and grace. When he led 
 captivity captive, he received gifts for men. Our con- 
 quering'Redeemer was not so elevated with the pomp of 
 his triumphs over the angels, his captive enemies, as to 
 forget the captives that he released among the children 
 of Adam. He received many donatives from his 
 Father on high, to shower down among them upon his 
 coronation day, that illustrious day, when " He that in 
 righteousness had made war and conquered, received 
 on his own head many crowns." Rev. xlx. 11,12. 
 
 He that could take so much pleasure on earth in his 
 labours of love, takes more delight in heaven in the 
 distributions of grace. This is the sweetest part of his 
 triumph, and the most visible among men, even the 
 gifts of the Spirit, that he sent down after his ascen- 
 sion. It was necessary that his grace should have some 
 ' share of the glory of that day. 
 
 What was said of the great day of deliverance, when 
 the Jews obtained victory over their designed murder- 
 ers, may be applied with"^ honour to the day when our 
 
OF THE MIND. S8S 
 
 liOrd ascended to heaven, and celebrated his triumph 
 over the spirits of darkness. "This was a good day 
 for Israel, for all the saints ; a day w hen Jesus rested from 
 his enemies, and a month which was turned unto him 
 from sorrow to joj^ and from mourning into a day of 
 gladness. This was a day of receiving portions for his 
 brethren, and of sending gifts to the poor." Esther 
 
 ix. 22. , T T^ . 
 
 Jesus our King is the Prince of power, and the Prince 
 of peace ; he solemnized his victory with acts of mer- 
 cy, and begun his reign with gifts of grace. He led 
 Satan the arch traitor bound at his chariot wheels, and 
 scattered donatives of pardon and life among the sons 
 of Adam that had been seduced into the great rebellion. 
 
 It is another pleasant meditation on this text, " That 
 God the Father had not given away all his gifts to men, 
 even when he gave them his only begotten Son ;" for 
 since that time he hath given his Son more gifts to be 
 distributed among them. Learn hence the unwearied 
 love of God, the inexhausted stores of divine mercy. 
 John iv. 10. Christ is called the gift of God. And 2 
 Cor. ix. 15. The unspeakable gift. He gave his own. 
 Son out of his bosom, and gave him up to death for us. 
 His Son that was nearest his heart, his Son the delight 
 of his soul and dariing of his eternal enjoyment; and 
 yet he is not weary of giving. O the imnneasurable 
 treasures of grace! O the unlimited bounties of our 
 God ! Stand amazed, O heavens, and let the earth lie 
 low in thankfulness and wonder, and every holy soul 
 adore this surprising love ! 
 
 Our meditations may take another step, and see here 
 the divine condescension to human weakness : how a 
 giving God stoops to the capacity of receiving creatures, 
 and betows the richest blessings on us in a sweet and 
 alluring manner of conveyance. When he gave his 
 Son to us, he first arrayed him in flesh and blood, that 
 the glories of the Deity might not affright us, nor his 
 terror make us afraid. When he proceeds to confer on 
 us further gifts, he puts them into the hands of his Son, 
 dwelling in our nature, that we might have easy access 
 to him without fear, and receive gifts from him as a de- 
 lightful medium, by whom a God of infinite purity hath 
 a mind to confer favours on sinful man. 
 
384 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 He has put all grace into those hands whence we 
 ourselves would choose to fetch it. If a God of shining 
 holiness and burning justice should appear like himself 
 and call to as guilty wretches, and hold forth his hand, 
 here are gifts, here are pardons, here are salvations for 
 you, we should be ready to say with Job xiii. 21. 
 " Withdraw thine hand far from me, and let not thy 
 dread make me afraid." But here we sinners come to 
 a man, to one that has worn our flesh and blood, that 
 is our brother, and of our own composition ; we come 
 with courage to him that looks like one of us, to receive 
 the gifts of a holy God, and the terrors of his holiness 
 sink us not, nor doth the fire of his justice devour us. 
 O ray soul, bow down and worship tliatGod who stoops 
 so low to thee, and has found such a mild and gentle 
 method of conferring his heavenly favours on thee ! J 
 
 XII. The Gift of the Spirit. ^ 
 
 fV HAT is dearer to God the Father than his only 
 Son ? And what diviner blessing has he to bestow up- 
 on men than his holy Spirit ? Yet has he given his Son 
 for us, and by the hands of his Son he confers his bles- 
 sed Spirit on us. "Jesus having received of the Fa- 
 ther the promise of the Spirit, shed it forth on men." 
 Acts ii. S3. 
 
 How the wonderous doctrine of the blessed Trinity 
 shines through the whole of our religion, and sheds a 
 glory upon every part of it ! Here is God the Father, a 
 king of infinite riches and glory has constituted his be- 
 loved Son the high treasurer of heaven, and the holy 
 Spirit is the divine and inestimable treasure. What 
 amazing doctrines of sacred love are written in our 
 Bibles! What mysteries of mercy, Avhat miracles of 
 glory are these ! Our boldest desires and most raised 
 hopes, durst never aim at such blessings ; there is noth- 
 ing in all nature that can lead us to a thought of such 
 grace. 
 
 The Spirit was given by the Father to the Son for 
 men ; for rebellious and sinful men, to make favourites 
 and saints of them : this was the noble gift the Son 
 received when he ascended on high," Psa. Ixviii. 18. 
 And he distributed it to grace his triumph. 
 
OF THE MIND. 1$85 
 
 Was it not a divine honour which Jesus our Lord 
 displayed on that day, when the tongues of fire sat on 
 his twelve apostles? When he sent his ambassadors to 
 every nation to address them in their own language, to 
 notify his accession to the throne of heaven, and to 
 demand subjection to his government ? When he con- 
 ferred power upon his envoys to reverse the laws of 
 nature and imitate creation ? To give eyes to the blind, 
 and to raise the dead ? All this was done by the Spirit 
 which he sent down upon them in ,the days of Pen- 
 tecost. 
 
 But is this Spirit given to none but his apostles and 
 the prime ministers in his kingdom? Was that rich treas- 
 ure exhausted in the first ages of the gospel, and none 
 left for us ? God forbid ! Every one of his subjects has 
 the same favour bestowed upon them, though not in the 
 same degree : every humble and holy soul in our day, 
 every true C hristian is possessed of his Spirit, for " he that 
 has not the Spirit of Christ is none of his." Rom. viii. 
 9. And wherever this Spirit is, it works miracles too : 
 it changes the sinner to a saint, it opens bis blind eyes ; 
 it new creates his nature ; it raises the dead to a divine 
 life, and teaches Egypt and Assyria and the British 
 isles to speak the language of Canaan, It is this gift of 
 the Spirit which the Son sends down to us continually 
 from the Father, that is the original and spring of all 
 these strange blessings. 
 
 The Father has a heart of large bounty to the poor 
 ruined race of Adam ; the Son has a hand fit to be almo- 
 ner to the king of glory ; and the Spirit is the rich 
 alms. This blessed donative has enriched ten thousand 
 souls already, and there remains enough to enrich ten 
 thousand worlds. 
 
 The Father, what a glorious giver ! the Son, what a 
 glorious medium of communication ! and the Spirit, 
 what a glorious gift ! We blush and adore while we 
 partake of such immense favours, and gratitude is even 
 overwhelmed with Avonder. 
 
 O let our spirits rejoice in this blessed article of our 
 religion ! And may all the temptations that we meet 
 with from men of reason, never, never baffle so sweet 
 a faith I 
 
 K k 
 
386 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 XIII. The Day of Grace. 
 
 IF you ask the opinion of some divines concerning the 
 day ot" grace, they will tell you, it signifies that partic- 
 ular season of a man's life, when the Spirit of God by 
 co.jvictions and good motions stirs him up to seek after 
 salvation, and gives him sufficient grace to convert him ; 
 and all this while it was possible for him to be saved, 
 and it was within the reach of his power to make this 
 grtce effectual: But this is determined to a certain 
 though unknown day, which if a man passes *vit.hout 
 being converted, then his salvation becomes impossible. 
 Now, though I would not choose to borrow all my sen- 
 timents in the chief doctrines of the gospel from the 
 sermons of a bishop, published on the terms of salva- 
 tion, yet against this scheme I may venture to use an 
 argument taken from that book. 
 
 Let us suppose, that it was declared in the gospel, 
 that there was a certain number of sins, or a certain 
 period of time, beyond which God would not pardon ; 
 and not any particular number, or time, was specified, 
 to the world: yet still most men (it is too justly to he 
 feared) would first be led to hope to commit many skis 
 with a flattering persuasion, that they should not come 
 to that number, or arrive at that period : and then, 
 when the habit was become strong, they would be fixed 
 by despair in this opinion, that being probably got past 
 that number of sins, and that period of grace, they h'ad 
 even as good continue in their sins, as their inclination 
 powerfully directs them : they would go on in great 
 wickedness and say, there is no hope. And thus we 
 see, that even his supposition which seems to take niost 
 care of the cause of holiness, leaves it not only in a 
 naked and unguarded, but in a very desperate con- 
 dition. 
 
 Concerning a day of grace thus much may be said^ 
 and this is all that I can understand by it, viz. That in 
 the life of a man, there are particular seasons when he 
 en]oys more of the outward means of grace, or advan- 
 tages for the good of his soul, than at other times ; that 
 is, more constant opportunities of hearing the word, a 
 
OP THE MIND. 887 
 
 teiore useful and affecting ministry, better company, 
 warmer admonitions, and plainer warnings by divine 
 providence; more leisure and conveniences for read- 
 ing, meditation, and prayer ; or, if all this continue all 
 his life-time, yet there are seasons when the Spirit of 
 Ood, by his common operations, does more powerfully 
 convince of sin, and stir up the conscience to duty, and 
 impress his word with more force upon the heart : but 
 being opposed and resisted he is grieved and departs, 
 his workings grow daily fewer and feebler, or it may 
 be he retires at once and leaves the soul in a stupid 
 frame, and returns no more. 
 
 Yet we could not say heretofore that the Spirit of 
 ^od, in his former operations, gave him a full and prox- 
 imate sufficiency of inward converting grace before, 
 since it proved so insufficient in the event, and ineffec- 
 tual : nor can we say now that his day of grace is 
 quite past and gone ; because the Spirit of God, who 
 is sovereisjn in mercj'^, may return again. 
 
 Yet it is a very good motive to urge upon delaying 
 sinners, that it is a daring and dangerous pifce of 
 impiety and rebellion to quench the motions of the 
 Holy Spirit ; lest he depart grieved, and never return 
 again ; lest he never give them so fair an opportunity 
 for conversation, never bring them so near again to the 
 Jsingdom of heaven. 
 
 XIV^ God and Mature unsearchable. 
 
 JtlOW poor and imperfect a creature is man ! How 
 unequal his knowledge of things! How large and 
 almost immensely diffusive his acquaintance with 
 some parts of nature, but how exceedingly limited 
 and narrow in others ! — The man of learning who has 
 the highest temptations to pride, has also the most 
 powerful motives to humility. 
 
 Man can measure the heavens, tell how many miles 
 the planet Venus is distant from Jupiter, and how far 
 the earth from the sun. He has found out with cer- 
 tainty the periods of their revolutions, and the hour of 
 their eclipses: he can adjust the affairs of the plane- 
 tary world to a moment, their vast variety of appear- 
 ances, with all thdr prodigious circuits. But this great 
 
^88 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 artist man is puzzled at a worm or a fly, a graia of 
 sand or a drop of water ; there is not the least atom in 
 the whole creation, but has questions about it un- 
 searchable to human nature ; no, nor the least part of 
 empty space, but sets all the wisest philosophers at 
 variance, when they attempt to tell what it is, or 
 whether it be any thmg or nothing. 
 
 This sort of talk, my neighbours will say, is a 
 jBourish of wit to teach us to undervalue our reason, a 
 mere rant of rhetoric, an hyperbole of reproach to 
 our understanding ; but while 1 leave it to astronomers 
 to confirm what 1 have said concerning the vast extent 
 of their acquaintance with the heavens, 1 shall make 
 it appear even to demonstration, that our knowledge 
 of the things on earth, is as mean as I have expressed, 
 in the literal and proper sense. 
 
 There is not the least grain of sand on the shore, nor 
 the least atom in the whole creation, but has questions 
 about it unsearchable by human .nature. 
 
 This atom may be divided into millions of millions 
 of pieces, and after all this the least part of it will be 
 infinitely divisible. The infinite divisibility of matter 
 is so often proved and so universally granted by all 
 modern philosophers, that I need not stand to prove it 
 here ; yet that my unlearned readers may see and 
 believe, I will set down a plain vulgar demonstration or 
 two of this matter. 
 
 I. It is certain, that if matter be not infinitely divisi- 
 ble, then there is, or may be so small a part of matter 
 which cannot be divided further ; now take this suppo- 
 sed smallest part, this fancied atom, and put it between 
 the points of a pair of compasses, maae of stiff and 
 inflexible matter, it is evident that the legs of the 
 compasses in less and less degrees will be divided 
 asunder, quite to the centre ; and from the points to 
 the centre there is room for still less and less pieces of 
 matter to be put between the legs. Therefore that 
 very supposed atom may be conceived to be divided 
 still further into less parts, and consequently it was not 
 indivisible. 
 
 II. If there be any indivisible part of matter, the 
 shape of it must be spherical, or a perfect globe, where- 
 in every part of the surface is equally distant from th« 
 
OP THE MIND. S89 
 
 centre ; for if you suppose it of any other shape, then 
 some parts of it will be farther from its centre than 
 otlier parts ; and all these longer parts may be shortened 
 or p.jr<'d off till every part be equally short, or equally 
 distant from the centre; that is till it be reduced to a globe. 
 Ki>w, from the centre of this globe to the surface, the 
 pans of it are but half so long as from any part of the 
 surface to its opposite part ; and therefore this globe 
 may be still divided into two hemisjpheres or semicircles, 
 which are not the smallest parts ot matter that can be, 
 becaurse they are not of a spherical figure, as in the 
 beginning of the argument. 
 
 And then, by a repetition of the same reasoning, those 
 little semicircles or half globes, by paring off the parts 
 which are farthest from their centre, may be reduced 
 to smaller globes again, and those smaller globes again 
 divided in halves as before } there is no end of these 
 divisions, and therefore matter is infinitely divisible. 
 
 To carry on this argument yet further, to the sur- 
 prise of my unlearned readers ; let us take notice, 
 that all matter has three dimensions in it, namely, 
 length, breadth, and depth ; now every part of matter, 
 every grain, of sand, is infinitely divisible as to each of 
 these dimensions ; that is, every part which results 
 from an infinite division of the length of it, may be yet 
 again infinitely divided according to its breadth } thus 
 the division of this grain of sand becomes infinitely 
 infinite. And yet stUl it may be further infinitely 
 divided, according to the depth or thickness of it ; thus 
 the divisibility of matter swells beyond all imagination, 
 and is more than infinitely infinite, and that with resist- 
 less evidence and astonishment to the eye of reason. 
 
 Go, now, vain man, and find fault with any part of 
 the creation of God, and play the foolish critic on 
 his works of providence ; go and censure the justice of 
 his conduct toward Adam or any of his children, or 
 blame the wisdom of his institutions in the dispensa- 
 tions cf his grace ; monstrous arrogance, and proud 
 impiety ! Rather go first and learn what an atom is, 
 or the meanest part of the dust of this vast creation 
 which God has made. It has something of infinity in 
 it ; it confounds thee in perplexing darkness, and 
 reaches far beyond all the little stretch of thv boasted 
 K k 2 
 
S90 IMFROVEMENT 
 
 powers of reasoning. Be dumb in silence, O vain 
 creature ! at the foot of this infinite and eternal Being, 
 nor pretend to measure his steps, to censure his mo- 
 tions, and direct his conduct till thou art better able to 
 give an account of the dust which he has put under 
 the feet of the meanest of his slaves. 
 
 XY. The Diamond painlecL 
 
 How wide and unhappy a miistake it is, when Chris- 
 tians endeavour to adorn their pure divine worship by 
 the mixture of it with ceremonies of human invention. 
 The symbolical ordinances of the gospel have a noble 
 simplicity h^ them ; their materials ^ire water, bread, 
 and wine, three of the most necessary and valuabJe 
 things in luunan life : and their mystic sense is plain, 
 natural and easy. By water we are cleansed when we 
 have been defiled ; so by the grace of the Holj Spirit 
 we are purified from sin, which pollutes our soul?, in 
 the sight of God. By Ivread we are fed when we are 
 iiungry and nourished into strength for service ; by 
 wine we are refreshed and revived when thirsty 
 and fainting ; so from the body of Christ, which was 
 feroken as an atoning sacrifice^ and his blood which 
 was poured out for us, we derive our spiritual life 
 and strength. The application -of these symbols is 
 most simple and natural also ; we are commanded to 
 wash with the water, to eat the bread, and to drink the 
 wine ; most proper representations of our participation 
 of these benefits. 
 
 Thus much of figures and emblems did the alwise 
 God think proper to appoint and continue in his church, 
 when he brake the yoke of Jewish bondage, and abol- 
 ished a multitude of rites and ceremonies of his own 
 ancient appointment. How plain, how natural, how 
 glorious, how divine, are these two Christian institu- 
 tions, baptism and the Lord's supper, if surveyed and 
 practised in their original simplicity ! but they are 
 debased by the addition of any fantastic ornaments. 
 
 What think ye of all the gaudy trappings and goldetr 
 winery that is mingled wUh the Christian worship, Hy 
 
OP THE MINB. S9t 
 
 the imaginations of men in the church of Rome ? 
 Are they not hke so many spots and blemishes cast 
 upon a fair jewel bjr some foolish painter ? Let the 
 colours be ever so sprightly and glowing, and the lustre 
 of the paint ever so rich, yet if you place them on g. 
 diamond they are spots and blemishes still. Is not 
 this a just emblem to represent all the gay airs, and 
 rich, glittering accoutrements wherewith the church of 
 Rome hath surrounded her devotion, and her public 
 religion ? 
 
 The reformers of our worship in the church of 
 England were much of this mind, for they boldly pass 
 this censure on many of the popish ceremonies, that 
 they entered into the church by indiscreet devotion, 
 and zeal without knowledge : they blinded the people 
 and obscured the glory of God, and are worthy to be 
 cutaway and clean rejected: that they did more con- 
 found and darken than declare and set forth Christ's 
 benefits unto us, and reduced us again to a ceremonial 
 law, like that of Moses, and to the bondage of figures 
 and shadows: this is their sentence and judgment con- 
 cerning many of the Romish rites, in the preface to 
 the book of common prayer. Happy had it been for 
 Great-Britain, if they had thought so concerning all of 
 them, since they had all the same or a worse original, 
 and they all tend to the same unhappy end ! However, 
 let others take their liberty of colouring all their jewels 
 with what greens, and purples, and scarlets they 
 please ; but for my own part, I like a diamond iesst 
 that has no paint upon it. 
 
 XVI. Bills of Exchange. iT05. 
 
 W HEN a rich merchant, who dwells in a foreign land 
 afar off, commits his treasure to the hands of a banker, 
 k is to be drawn out into smaller suras by his servants 
 or his friends here at home, as their necessities shall 
 require ; and he furnishes them with bills of exchange 
 drawn upon his banker or treasurer, which are paid 
 fa«nourably to the person who oflfers the bill, according 
 
^S IMPROVEMENT 
 
 to the lime when the words of the bill appoint the pay- 
 ment. 
 
 Is it not possible to draw a l)€aut!ful allegory h*nce, 
 to represent th«' cotjduct of the blessed God, in his 
 promises of grace, without debasing so divine a subject? 
 
 God the Father, the spring and fountain of all gracCj 
 dwells in regions of light and holiness inaccessible, too 
 far off for us to converse with him, or receive supplies 
 from him in an immediate way : but he has sent the 
 Son to dwell in human nature, and constituted him 
 treasurer of all his blessings, that we might derive per- 
 petual supplies from his band : he has entrusted him 
 with all the riches of grace and glory ; he has laid up 
 infinite stores of love, wisdom, strength, pardon, peace, 
 and consolation, in the hands of his Son for this very 
 purpose, to be drawn out thence as fast as the neces- 
 sities of his saints require. " It pleased the Father that 
 in him should all fullness dwdl. He has received gifts 
 for men." Col. i. 19. Psal. Ixviii. 18. 
 
 Now all the promises in the Bible are so many bills of 
 exchange drawn by God the Father in heaven, upon 
 his Son Jesus Christ, and payable to ev^ery pious bear- 
 er ; that is, to every one that comes to the mercy seat, 
 and offers the promise for acceptance, and pleads it in 
 a way of obedient faith and prayer. Jesus, the high 
 treasurer of heaven, knows every letter of his Father's 
 hand writing, and can never be imposed upon by a for- 
 ged note ; he will ever put due honour upon his Father's 
 bills ; be accepts them all, for " all the promises in him 
 
 ieptj 
 payment. 
 
 If you apply to the blessed Jesus,-and offer him a bill 
 of the largest sum, a promise of the biggest blessings, he 
 will never say, " I have not so much of my Father^ s trea- 
 sure in my hand.^* For he hath received all things. 
 John iii. 35. " The Father loveth the Son, and hath gi- 
 ven all things into his hand" And may I not venture tf> 
 aayy this vA-nole treasure is made over to the saints ? 
 " All things are yours." 1 Cor. iii. 22. And they are 
 parcelled out into bills of promise, and notes und^.r the 
 Father's hand. So the whole treasure of a nation 
 
6P THE MIND. ZQ$ 
 
 sometimes consists in credit and in promissory notes 
 more than in present sums of gold and silver. 
 
 Some of these divine bills are payable at sight, and we 
 receive the sum as soon as we offer the bill : (viz.) Those 
 that must supply our present wants ; such as, " Call 
 upon me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee, and 
 thou shalt glorify me :" Psa. 1. 15. and there have been 
 many examples of such speedy payment. Psa. cviii. S. 
 ** In the day when 1 cried^ thou answeredst me, and 
 strengthenedst me with strength in my souL^^ 
 
 Some are only payable in general at a distant time, 
 and that is left to the discretion of Christ, the treasurer,^ 
 namely, " *^s the day is, so thy strength shall be." Deut . 
 xxxiii. 25. And we need never fear trusting him long ; 
 for this bank, in the hands of Christ, can never fail ; 
 *\for in him divelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily." 
 Col. ii. 9. And Eph. iii. 8, we are told of the unsearch- 
 able riches of Christ. 
 
 Sometimes Christ may put us off with a general kind 
 answer, or give us a note under his hand payable at de- 
 mand in several parcels, instead of a full payment all at 
 once: thus he dealt with his dear friend and servant 
 Paul, in 2 Cor. xii. 9. Doubtless, Paul, in his seeking 
 the Lord thrice, for the removal of his thorn in the flesh, 
 had pleaded several lar^e promises of God, had offered 
 those divine bills to Christ for acceptance and payment ; 
 but, instead of this, our Lord^ives him a note under 
 his own hand, which ran in this language, " My grace 
 is suflicient for thee." And if we had but the faith which 
 that blessed apostle had, we might live upon this hope : 
 this would be as good as present payment ; for, if he 
 delay to give the full sum, it is only because he sees we 
 have not need of it at present : he knows our neces- 
 sities better than we do ourselves ; he will not trust us 
 with too much at once in our own hands ; but he pays 
 us those bills when he sees the fittest, and we have often 
 found it so, and confessed his faithfulness. 
 
 At other times he pays us, but not in the same kind 
 of mercy which is mentioned in the promise, yet in 
 something more useful and valuable. If the promise 
 mention a temporal blessing, he may give us a spiritual 
 one: if it express ease, he may give us patience: and 
 thus his Father's bills are always honoured, and we' 
 
5S4 IMPROVEMEMT 
 
 have no reason to complain. So the banker may dis- 
 charge a bill of an hundred pounds, not with money, but 
 with such goods and merchandise as may yield us two 
 hundred, and we gladly confess the bill is well paid. 
 
 Some of these promises, these bills of heavenly 
 treasure, are not made payable till the heur of our 
 death ; as, " Blessed are those servants whom when the 
 Lord comes he shall Jind loatching^ kc." Luke xii. 87. 
 " He that endureth to the end the same shall be saved.''* 
 Matt. xxiv. 13. " Be thou faithful to the death^ and 1 
 will give thee a croivn of life. Rev. ii. 10. 
 
 Others are not due till the day of resurrection, as, 
 " Them ivho sleep in Jesus ivill God bring with him.'''* 
 1 Thess. iv. 14. " / will redeem them from deathJ* 
 Hosv xiii. 14. Col. iil. 4. " fVhen Christ, who is our 
 life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in 
 glory.'''' Phil. iii. 21. ^^ He shall change our vile body, 
 ihatit may be fashioned like unto his glorious body." 
 1 Pet. v. 4. " ^nd when the chief Shepherd shall ap- 
 pear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not 
 away." 
 
 Now, when the great day shall come, in which our 
 liord Jesus Christ shall give up his mediatorial king- 
 dom to the Father, and render an account of all his 
 stewardship, how fair will his books appear! how just 
 a balance will stand at the foot of all his accounts ! 
 Then shall he show in what manner he has fulfilled the 
 promises to the saints, and present to the Father all the 
 bills that he has received and discharged ; while all the 
 saints shall with one voice attest it, to the honour of the 
 high Treasurer of heaven, that he has not failed in 
 payment, even to the smallest farthing. 
 
 XVII. JVie Saints unknown in this Wbrld. 
 
 Out 
 
 of the millions of mankind that spread over 
 
 the earth in every age, the great God has been pleased 
 to take some into his own family, has given them a 
 heavenly and divine nature, and made them his sons 
 and his daughters. But he has set no outward mark of 
 ^lory upon them ; there is nothing in their figure or in 
 
OF THE MIND. S9$ 
 
 their countenance to distinguish them from the rabble 
 of mankind. And it is fit that they should be in some 
 measure unknown among their fellow mortals : their 
 character and dignity is too sacred and sublime to be 
 made public here an earth, where the circumstances 
 that attend them are generally so mean and despicable. 
 Divine wisdom has appointed the other world for the 
 place of their discoverj^ ; there they shall appear like 
 themselves, in state, equipage, and array, becoming the 
 children of God, and heirs of heaven. 
 
 Their blessed Lord himself, who is God's first born 
 Son, was a mere stranger, and unknown among men ; 
 he laid aside the rays of divinity and the form of a God 
 when he came down to dwell with men, and he took 
 upon him the form of a servant. He wore no divine 
 majesty on his face ; no sparks of Godhead beaming from 
 bis eyes ; no glaring evidence of his high dignity in all 
 his outward appearance. Therefore the world knoweth 
 us not, because it knew him not. But he shall be 
 known and adored when he comes in the glory of his 
 Father, with legions of angels ; and we know, that 
 when he shall appear we siiall be like him. The life 
 of the saints is hidden with Christ in God. But when 
 Christ, who is their life, shall appear, they also shall 
 appear with him in glory. 1 John iii. 1,2 ; Col. iii. S, 4, 
 In tliat daj'^ they shall stand forth before the whole crea- 
 tion in fair evidence ; they shall shine in distinguished 
 light, and appear vested in their own undoubted honours. 
 But here it seems proper there should be something of 
 a cloud upon them, both upon the account of the men 
 of this world, and upon their own account too, as w ell 
 as in conformity to Christ Jesus their Lord. 
 
 First, upon their own account, because the present 
 state of a Christian is a state of trial. We are not to 
 walk by sight, as the saints above and angels do ; they 
 know they are possessed of life and blessedness, fo'r 
 they see God himself near them, Christ in the midst 
 of them, and glory all around them. Our w'ork is to 
 live by faith ; and therefore God has not made either 
 his love to us or his grace in us so obvious and apparent 
 to ourselves as that every Christian, even the weak and 
 the UHwatchful, should be fully assured of this salvation. 
 He has not appointed the principle ©f life within us to 
 
396 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 sparkle in so divine a manner as to be always self-evi- 
 dent to the best of Christians ; much less to the luke- 
 warm and the backslider. It is fit that it should not be 
 too sensibly manifest, because it is so sensibly imper- 
 fect, that we might examine ourselves whether we are 
 in the faith, and prove ourselves whether Christ, as a 
 principle of life, dwell in us or no. £Cor. xiii. 5. — 
 While so many snares, and sins, and dangers, attend 
 us, and mingle with our spiritual life, there will be 
 something of darkness ready to rise and obscure it, 
 thatfeo we may maintain a holy jealousy and solicitude 
 about our own state, that we 'may search with dili- 
 gence t^ find whether we have a divine life or no, and 
 be called and urged often to look inwards. 
 
 This degree of remaining darkness and the doubtful 
 state of a slothful Christian, is sometimes of great use 
 to spur him onward in his race of holiness, and quicken 
 him to aspire after the highest measures of the spiritu- 
 al life ; that when its acts are more vigorous it may 
 shine with the brightest evidence, and give the soul of 
 the believer full satisfaction and joy. It serves also to 
 awaken the drowsy; Christian to keep a holy watch over 
 his heart and practice, lest sin and temptation make a 
 foul inroad upon his divine life, spread still a thicker 
 cloud over his best hopes, and break the peace of his 
 conscience. Though the principle of grace be not al- 
 ways self evident, yet we are required to give diligence 
 to make and to keep it sure. £ Pet. i. 10. And as it 
 was proper that every little seed of grace should not 
 shine with self-sufficient and constant evidence, on the 
 account of the Christian himself; so, secondly, it was 
 fit that their state and dignity should not be too obvious 
 to the men of the world, that they might neither 
 adore nor destroy the saints. A principle of supersti- 
 tion might tempt some weaker souls to pay extrava- 
 gant honours to the Christian, if he caiTied heaven in 
 is face, and it were visible in his countenance that he 
 ■was a son of God. On the other hand the malicious 
 and perverse part of mankind might imitate the rage 
 of Satan, and attempt the sooner to destroy the saint. 
 This was the case of the blessed Paul. When he 
 had wrought a miracle at Lystra, and appeared with 
 something divine about him, when he had healed the 
 
OF THE MINB. «95 
 
 3crippleby a mere word of command, the people cried 
 out with exalted voices, *' The gods are come down to 
 us in the likeness of men :" immediately they made a 
 Mercury of Bt. Paul, they turned Barnabas into Jupi- 
 ter, and the priests brought oxen and garlands to ttie 
 gates to have done sacrifice to them : this was the hu- 
 mour of the superstitious Gentiles. But in several of 
 the Jews, their malice and envy wrought a very differ- 
 ent effect ; for they persuaded the people into fury, so 
 that they stoned the blessed apostle, and drew him out 
 of the city for dead. Acts xiv. 
 
 Thus it fared with our Lord Jesus Christ himself in 
 the days of his flesh : for the most part he lived un- 
 known amon^ men ; he did not cry nor make his voice 
 to be heard in the streets ; but when he discovered 
 himself to them on any special occasion, the people 
 ran into different extremes. Once, when the charac- 
 ters of the Messiah appeared with evidence upon him, 
 they Vk'ould have raised him to a throne, and made an 
 earthly king of him. John vi. 15. At another time, 
 when his holy conduct did not suit their humour, they 
 were ^^ filled with tvrath, and led him to the brow of a hill 
 io cast him down headlong.'''' Luke iv. 29. Therefore 
 our blessed Lord did not walk through the streets and 
 tell the world he was the Messiah ; but by degrees he 
 let the characters of his mission appear upon him, and 
 discovered himself in wisdom, as his disciples and the 
 world could bear it, and as his Father had appointed. 
 
 Let us imitate our blessed Lord, and copy after so 
 divine a pattern ; let our works bear a bright and grow- 
 ing witness to our inward and real Christianity. This 
 is such a gentle sort of evidence, that, though it may 
 work conviction in the hearts of spectators, yet it doCvS 
 not strike the sense witJi so glaring a light as to dazzle 
 the %veaker sort who behold it into superstitious folly r 
 nor does it give such provocation to the envy of the 
 malicious, as if the saints had borne the sign of their 
 high dignity in some more surprising manner in their 
 figure or countenance. 
 
 I might add also, there is something in this sort of 
 evidence of their saintship that carries more true hon- 
 our in it, than if some heavenly name had been writtes 
 ' L 1 
 
^98 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 in their forehead, or their skin had shone like the ftiofr 
 of Moses, when he came down from the mount. It is 
 -a more sublime glory for a prince to be found among 
 the vulgar in undistinguished raiment, aryi by his su- 
 perior conduct and shining virtues to force the world 
 to confess that he is the son of a king, than to walk 
 through the rabble with ensigns of royalty, and de- 
 mand honour from them by the mere blaze of his or- 
 aaments. 
 
 XVIII. Praise waiteth for Thee. God in Sion. 
 Psalm Ixv. 1. 
 
 And does praise wait for God in the congregation of 
 his saints ! Surely it doth not use to be so. Mercy 
 uses to be beforehand with us, and the Lord waiteth 
 to be gracious. Mercy is wont to be ready in the 
 hands of God before praise is ready on the tongues of 
 men ; and we are sure he waited on us to show his 
 grace long before we had any songs ready for him, or 
 anv thought of praising him. 
 
 Yet sometimes it is so in this lower world ; holy souls 
 may be waiting at the throne of grace with their prais- 
 es ready to ascend as soon as mercy appears : mercy 
 may be silent for a season, and then praise for a season 
 is silent too. This is the original language of the 
 psalm, and this the state of things when the psalmist 
 wrote ; " Praise is silent for Uiee in Zion.''^ When the 
 church of God under trouble has been long seeking 
 any particular blessing or deliverance, and God's ap- 
 pointed hour of salvation is not yet come, then the 
 songs of the church are silent ; yet she stands watching 
 and waiting for the desired moment, that she may 
 meet the salvation with praise. 
 
 But why should God suffer praise to be silent at all 
 in Zion ? Is not the church the habitation of his prais- 
 es ? Yes ; but it is the house of prayer too: prayer 
 and patience must have their proper exercise. If 
 praise were never silent on earth, where would there 
 
OF THE MIND. 5n 
 
 fee any room for prayer to speak ? when would there 
 be any season for the grace of patience to show itself ?" 
 God loves prayer as well as praise : his Hovereignty is- 
 honoured by humble waiting, as well as his goodness 
 by holy gratitude and joy. If praise be silent, then 
 le*t prayer be more fervent. The absent Saviour loves 
 t(» hear the voice of his beloved ; the lips of the 
 church must never be quite silent, though they are not 
 always employed in hallelujahs. 
 
 Praise is the sweetest part of divine worship ; it is a 
 short heaven here on earth. God lets our praises be 
 silent sometimes, to teach us that this is not a state of 
 complete blessedness. After the great day of decis- 
 ion, praise shall be continual and unceasing, when there 
 shall be no more sighing for the saints, no more death, 
 no more pain. Then churches shall want ordinances 
 no more; nor saints abstain from the bread of life. 
 Jesus, their everlasting pastor, shall feed them in pas- 
 tures ever green, and from the tree of life, and lead 
 them to the fountains of joy, and the streams where 
 eternal pleasures run. O may our souls wait with joy- 
 ful hope for that day, and our praises shall not be si- 
 lent. 
 
 Yet it is not with the church as it is with the world, 
 when praise is silent in both. It is ever silent among 
 the wicked ; because they are forgetful of God, their 
 maker : it is only silent among the saints for a season^ 
 when their God seems to frown and hide himself, and 
 as it were to forget his people. 
 
 Besides, let us consider that all praise is not silent 
 there. Daily incense arises before God in his temple, 
 though particular thank offerings wait till particular 
 mercies are received. Praise for all the greatest mer- 
 cies, namely, for redeeming grace, for electing love, 
 for the sanctifying spirit, is never silent in Zion. 
 Psalm Ixxxiv. 4. " Blessed are they that dioell in thine 
 house ; theif tvill be still praising thee.'''' But praise for 
 some special favours may be silent for a season, as well 
 as that large revenue of praise that shall grow due at 
 tlie accomplishment of all the promises and the con- 
 summation Qf blessedness. 
 
40a IMPROVEMENT 
 
 Again, the praises of God are silent in the worlil 
 without any design of breaking forth ; but the silence 
 of the church longs to be lost in joyful songs of thanks- 
 giving. It is like an engine charged nith praise, that 
 wants only the warm touch of mercy to make it shine 
 with the glories of heavenly worship, and sound aloud 
 the name of the God of heaven. 
 
 Sometimes God is as well pleased that praise should 
 wait with humble silence, as that it should speak. It 
 shows a well disposed frame and temper of soul that 
 longs to honour God. The hearts of his saints are 
 instruments of music to the Lord ; he has formed 
 their souls for his glory, and turned their heartstrings 
 to his own praise. Now he loves to see them keep 
 still in tune, though he does not always play his own 
 praises upon them ; he neither wants our services nor 
 our songs, for his own perfections are an everlasting 
 harmony to himself, without the slender notes that we 
 can sound. 
 
 We may make this sweet remark at last, that Zion, 
 on earth shall bejoincd to Jerusalem above ; the family 
 below shall be joined to the upper house, for they have 
 learned the work of heaven ; their hearts are tuned to 
 praise : they want only such harps as angels have to 
 bring glory down, and make a heaven on this earth. 
 In 1 Chron. xi. 4, we are told that David took Zion 
 from the Jebusites, and built it round about, and added 
 it to Jerusalem. So shall Jesus, the true David, the 
 king of saints, take this earthly Zion from the powers 
 of this wicked world, and shall build and adorn it 
 around with glory and strength, with perfect beauty 
 and complete grace, and add it to the Jerusalem which 
 is above. Look upward, O souls, who are full of 
 praises, and are even impatient to speak the glories of 
 your God ! look to Jerusalem nbove, where praise is 
 constant and never ceasing, and rejoice to think that 
 you shall be made inhabitants of that city, and united 
 to the glorious church. It is your chief pleasure here 
 to be praising your God ; and it is the chief pleasure 
 of your fellow saints on high, where happiness fs 
 perfect, praise is perfect too, and never silent. 
 
OF THE MIND. i@4 
 
 It is the chief delight of happy souls there to run 
 over the glories of their God, and tell one another joy- 
 fully, and humbly tell their God, what a .wise, what a 
 holy, what an almighty and all-gracious' God he is. 
 Every breath of praise is a new gale of pleasure there; 
 it is sweet breathing, in air perfumed with praises; 
 and this climate is most agreeable to your new nature 
 and your constitution, you that are members and parts 
 of Zion ; and you shall be translated thither to your 
 kindred souls. In heaven the river of pleasure springs 
 from God's right hand, because Jesus, the Saviour, sits 
 there. It is a river that makes glad the city of God ; 
 and every stream, as it flows along the golden streets, 
 murmurs swe^ praises to the fountain. 
 
 But heaven and the state of glory are not yet com- 
 plete : the church waits above for many promises that 
 are not yet fulfilled, and future blessings that are yet 
 unknown. The work of grace is not finished till the 
 great resurrection-day ; and heaven itself, in all tlie 
 blissful regions of it, waits for such praises as the ear of 
 men or angels has never yet heard. 
 
 While the whole church of God on earth is in a state 
 of imperfection and trial, a state of sins and sorrows, 
 praise waits in all the sanctuaries below, and in Zion 
 above too. The souls in glory wait for complete sal- 
 vation, and the redemption of their bodies from the 
 grave. On the harps of angels praise sits waiting ; 
 and it waits also on the tongue of Jesus, the intercessor. 
 His prayers shall one day change all at once into 
 praises, and lift the praises of angels, and of embodied 
 saints, to higher notes than ever yet they knew. O 
 the voices ani the songs, the joys, the raptures of that 
 moment, of that day, of that eternity, when such 
 a multitude of praises shall burst out'at once, that 
 have been waiting long in that Zion, and shall 
 become an everlasting praise ! when Jesus, the Son 
 of God, the Mediator, shall lead the worship, and 
 the praises that have been growing these seventeen 
 hundred years on his tongue shall break forth and 
 spread themselves abroad, and all the creation shall 
 hear, and all echo to his song, Glory to God in the 
 highest ! This is what we wait and hope for, and long; 
 'to bear a part in those pleasures and those praises. 
 
 » L 1 .^ 
 
4sf IMPROVEMENT 
 
 XIX. Job xxuu 3. O that I knew ivhere Imightjindhitrhr 
 
 Among all the various kinds and orders of God's 
 intellectual creation, there is not one that uses this 
 language besides a mourning saint in this lower world. 
 As for all other spirits, whether dweilinj^ in flesh or not, 
 tlieir wishes are expressed in a very different manner^ 
 nor do they seek and long to find an absent God. 
 
 If we ascend up to heaven, and inquire there what 
 are llie wishes of those bles.ied spirits, we shall find that 
 then* enjoyments are so glorious, and thSir satisfactions 
 1-ise so high in the immediate presence of God among 
 them, that they have nothing of this nature left to wish 
 for : they know that their God is with them ; and all 
 their wish is, what they are assured to enjoy, that this 
 God will be with them forever 
 
 If we descend to the regions of hell, where God 
 reigns in vengeance, we shall hear those unhappy 
 spirits groaning out many a fruitless wish. " O that I 
 knew where I raij;ht avoid him, that I might get out of 
 his sight, out of his nolic^> and reach for ever ! I feel his 
 dreadful presence; and O that it were possible for me 
 to be utterly absent from him, and to find a place 
 where God is not !" 
 
 If we take the wings of the morning, and fly to the 
 utmost part of the eastern or the >vestern world, we 
 shall find the language of those ignorant heathens, " O 
 that I knew where f might find food, and plenty, and 
 all sensual delights !" but tht;y send not a wish after the 
 great God, though he has been so many ages absent 
 from them and their fathers. He is unknown to them, 
 and they have no desires working in them after an un- 
 known God. 
 
 If we tarry at home and survey the bulk of man- 
 kind around us, the voice of their wishes sounds much 
 the same as that of the he;rthen world, " O that 1 knew 
 where I might find trade and merchandize, riches and 
 honours, corn, wine, and oil, the necessaries or the 
 superfluous luxuries of life !" but God is not in all thehr 
 
©P THE MIND. 403 
 
 thoughts. If they frequent the temples, and attend 
 the seasons of worship : they are well enough satisfied 
 with outward forms, without the sight of God in them. 
 There is no natural man that with a sincere longing of 
 soul cries out, " O that I knew where to find him I" 
 
 As for the children of God, that live in the light of 
 their Father's countenance, they walk with him daily 
 and hourly ; they behold him near them by the eye of 
 faith, and they feel the sweet influences of his gracious 
 presence; their highest ambition and their dearest 
 wishes are, " O, that he might abide for ever with me^ 
 and keep me for ever near to himself !" 
 
 The words of this scripture, therefore, can only be 
 the language of a saint on earth in distress and dark- 
 ness, when God, who was wont to visit him with di- 
 vine communications, and to meet him in his addresset* 
 to the throne of grace, has withdrawn himself for a 
 season, and left the soul to grapple with many difficul- 
 ties alone. 
 
 This was the case of that holy man whose sorrows 
 and complaints have furnished out almost a whole book 
 of scripture, and supplied the saints in all succeeding 
 ages with the forms and speeches of pious mourning. 
 It is the voice of a sacred impatience that Job here 
 utters, " O that 1 knew where 1 might find him !" and 
 by a plain paraphrase we may learn both the meaning 
 and the reason of such language, and be taught, by his 
 example, to lament after an absent God. 
 
 Let us suppose the saint, therefore, pouring out his 
 soul in such sort of expressions as these ; in which I 
 shall not entirely confine myself to the darkness of the 
 patriarchal dispensation under which Job lived, but in- 
 <lulge the language of the New Testament, and person- 
 ate a mourning Christian. 
 
 Time was when 1 had a God near mc, and upon, 
 every new distress and difiiculty I made him my pre- 
 sent refuge ; I was wont to call upon him in an hour 
 of darkness, and he shone upon my path with divine 
 light. He has often taught me to read my duty in his 
 providences, or in his word, or by some secret hints of 
 his own Spirit, even while I have been kneeling at the 
 throne of grace ; but now X find not my usual sign? 
 
404 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 and tokens. My Guide and my Counsellor is with- 
 drawn ; " O that I knew where I might find him !" 
 
 He was once my kind assistant in every duty, and 
 my support under every burden : I have found the 
 grace of my Lord sufficient for me in my sharpest 
 conflicts; his strength has appeared in my weakness. 
 When my spiritual enemies have beset me round, he- 
 has scattered them before me, or subdued them under 
 me ; and being held up by his everlasting arms, 1 have 
 stood my ground, and borne up my head under the 
 weight of heavy sorrows : but am now attacked on 
 all sides ; my soul wrestles hard with sins and tempta- 
 tions, and I find no assistance, no victory ; 1 sink under 
 my present sorrows ; for my God, my strength, and 
 my comforter, is absent and afar off; " O that I knew 
 where I mi^ht find him !" 
 
 My God was wont to deal with me as a compas- 
 sionate friend ; when Satan has accused, he has justi- 
 fied. He has shown me the all-sulficient sacrifice of 
 his Son ; and that spotless righteousness of his, which 
 has answered all thr demands of his own holy law, 
 and cancelled all the charges of guilt that the devil or 
 my own conscience could bring against me. He has 
 taught me by faith to put my soul under the sprink- 
 lings of this sacred blood, and to wrap around me the 
 robe of this divine righteousness; he himself has ar- 
 rayed me in garments of salvation. But now the army 
 of my sins rises up before me, and overwhelms my 
 spirit with many terrors ; Satan, the accuser, urges on 
 the charge, and my Saviour and his righteousness are, 
 as it were, hidden from me. " O that 1 knew where I 
 might find him !" 
 
 Many a censure have I borne from men, and had my 
 reputation assaulted and my_good name blackened with 
 many a scandal. But when man reproached me, God 
 has undertaken my cause, and made my righteousness 
 shine as the light, and my innocence as the noon day ; 
 I could then pnur out my soul before him, tell him all 
 my sorrows in flowing language, and feel sweet relief; 
 but, now, alas ! troubles and reproaches are multiplied 
 upon me, and he does not seem to take my part ; my 
 spirit is bound and shut up, and 1 am cut off from 
 
OP THE BIIND. 4m 
 
 that free converse, that humble, holy intimacy, which 
 1 once enjoyed with my God ; I cry out of wrong, but 
 I am not heard : I cry aloud, but there is no judgment. 
 Will he not help me to pray ? will he not' hear my 
 groans and requests? Hath God forgotten to be gra- 
 cious ? Yet 1 would seek his face still, and " O' th^it X 
 knew where I might find him !" 
 
 Often have 1 seen him in his own ordinances, in the 
 
 Elace of public worship ; I have seen his power and 
 is glory in the sanctuary : I have found him in secret 
 corners, and my meditation of him has been exceeding 
 sweet. In dark retirements he has smiled on my soul, 
 and has often given me reviving light. I have found 
 him in his works, and I have had a fairer sight of him 
 in his word ; I can name the places, the pleasant lines m 
 my Bible, and say, " I have seen the face of my God 
 here :'* But now the Bible itself is like a sealed bookj 
 or like a strange language which I cannot understand; 
 I hear not the voice of mj^ God speaking to me there; 
 I go forward to his promises, and read what he will 
 do for his people, but I perceive him not ; backward, 
 to his past providences, or to my own experiences, and 
 review what he has done, but there is a aarkness there 
 too : I turn to my left hand, among his works of na- 
 ture, but I do not see him ; I seek him on my right 
 hand, among bis works of grace, but still he hides him- 
 self that I cannot behold him : v. 8, 9. " I wander in 
 the night and inquire after him ; I watch for him more 
 than they that watch for the morning ; I say, more 
 than they that watch for the morning ; " O that I knew 
 where I might find him 1" 
 
 And it is no wonder that I am so impatient under 
 the painful sense of his present distance from me, and 
 so importunate for his return ; for I have known the 
 dreadtul case of utter distance from him in a state of 
 nature and sin, and I have tasted something of the 
 pleasure of being brought nigh by grace, and now I 
 dread every thing that looks like that old distance, that 
 estrangement ; I would fain renew those divine plea- 
 sures of a returning and a reconciled God : " O that J 
 vlcnew where 1 might find him !" 
 
40^ IMPROVEMENT 
 
 Besides, 1 bethink myself and say, " What shall 1* 
 do without my God !" for I find all creatures utterly 
 insufficient to relieve and help me ; and I have knov^m 
 something of God's all-sufficiency ; he hath been my 
 helper in six troubles, and in seven, he is my only hope : 
 when creatures stand aloof from me, and each of them 
 say " There is no help in me," wliither should 1 go 
 then but to mv God ? " O that I knew where I might 
 find him !" * 
 
 I have been so much used to live upon him, and 
 found his divine aids and influences so necessary to 
 my life and my peace, that I sink and die at his ab- 
 sence. 1 feel within myself a sort of heavenly instinct 
 that 1 want his presence, and cannot live without him. 
 1 know he stands in no need of me, for he gives to all 
 his creatures life, and breath, and being ; but I need 
 his counsels and his comforts, his strength and his love : 
 my soul is touched with such a divine influence, that 
 it cannot rest while God withdraws, as the needle 
 trembles and hunts after the hidden loadstone. If my 
 God retire and hide himself, he will forgive a creature 
 that loves him so well as to follow hard after him 
 without ceasing, and is impatient and restless till he 
 search him out ; " O that I knew where I might find 
 him !" 
 
 Though God is pleased to depart from me for a sea- 
 son, yet 1 cannot let go all my nope ; he hides himself 
 from my soul, yet I dare net think him an enemy, but 
 only a concealed friend : if I could get near him, even 
 to his seat, I know I should find it a mercy-seat, though 
 perhaps judgment may sit there too. It is a throne of 
 grace, says a Christian, because Jesus is there v. ith the 
 blood of atonement ; and having such an high j)riest 
 over the house of God, and such a new and living 
 way of access by the blood of Christ, I will seek after 
 him and address, myself to him: 1 will confess mine 
 iniquities before him, and be sorry for my sins, which 
 may have beclouded or eclipsed my heavenly sun, and 
 hid his face from me ; 1 fear 1 have grieved his blessed 
 Spirit, and provoked him to withdraw his kind influ- 
 ences of light, strength, and comfort ; nor will I cease 
 grieving for his absence till he return again. 
 
OF THE MIND, 407 
 
 Come, O eternal Spirit, come and visit my poor dark 
 and disconsolate soul ; come and awaken all my pow- 
 ers to follow hard after my Father and my God. Come, 
 invigorate my faith, and lead me to the Mediator, the 
 blessed Jesus ; come, ojpen to me the promises, and let 
 me into the covenant of his unchangeable love, ratified 
 'and sealed with blood. If ever 1 find my God again, 
 it is there I know I must find him ; Christ is the only 
 way to' the Father. It is by the interest of his Son I 
 shall get near to him, even to his seat ; then will I 
 pour out all my woes and my wants in his sight ; 1 
 will order ray cause before him, and fill my mouth 
 with arguments. Will he plead against me with his 
 great power ? No ; but he will put strength in me, aad 
 assist and suffer me to prevail with him. 
 
 Then, when I have found him whom my soul loveth, 
 I will hold him fast, and not let him go : I will charge 
 all the powers and passions of my nature not to yield to 
 one sinful practice, nor provoke him to depart ; for he 
 is my everlasting and my almighty Friend. 
 
 Then, though I should have a thousand enemies set 
 themselves against me, I would not be afraid ; yea, 
 thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 
 I will fear no evil, for 1 have found my God, and my 
 God is with me. 
 
408 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 XX. The Figure of a Cheruh. 
 
 A CHERUB is a name used in scripture to denote 
 eoiiae angelic power or powers under the figure of some 
 strange animal : the plural number in the Hebrew is 
 cherubim, which signifies cherubs, and I know not how 
 our translators of the bible came so often to speak of 
 cherubims, adding an s to the Hebrew plural number 
 instead of the English plural, namely, cherubs. Per- 
 haps some writers learned using the word cherubim in 
 Latin instead of cherubi, might lead them into this 
 grammatical irregularity. 
 
 The Jews themselves greatly differ about the form 
 or figure of a cherub. Josephus in his Antiquities, 
 book iii. chap. 6. tells us, That cherubs are fiying ani- 
 mals, like to none that were ever seen by man, and 
 whose form no man knoweth. Abenezra, a learned 
 Jew, supposes it to be a general name extending itself 
 to all forms or figures, though in the writings of Moses 
 he supposes it to come nearer the figure of a young 
 man or boy. 
 
 Some have imagined that the mere face of a boy with 
 wings is sufficient to describe a cherub, and accordingly 
 such figures are wrought into the ornaments of buildings 
 and curtains, kc. but I know no just ground for tliis 
 imagination, except it be that those on the ark were 
 beaten out of the same mass of gold which made the 
 mercy-seat : and it must be confessed this sort of figure 
 is more easy to be thus formed than any tall shape Avith 
 a body and feet. Exod. xxv. 10. and xxxvii. 7. 
 
 It is generally represented in scripture like some 
 strange living creature with one or more faces, having 
 both wings and feet : when it has four faces, they are 
 borrowed from a man, an ox, a lion, and an eagle : the 
 wings are desc 'ibed as very large, and the feet, when they 
 are particularly described, are like those of an ox or 
 calf: but whether the whole figure be more like that of 
 an ox, or of a man, the learned are not agreed. This is 
 
OF THE MIND. 4e9 
 
 certain, that the several scriptures wherein cherubs are 
 mentioned, can hardly be reconciled without supposing 
 them represented in diflferent forms, sometimes nearer 
 to one of those forms, and sometimes to the other. If 
 therefore, after all our searches, we cannot come to a 
 full determination, we must be content to acknowledge 
 ou? ignorance, though, perhaps, by diligent inquiry, we 
 may come pretty near to the truth. 
 
 If we consult the derivation of the word, it seems to 
 come from charab^ which, in the Chaldee, Syriac, and 
 Arabic languages, signifies to " plough," which is the 
 known work of oxen. This favours the sentiment of 
 those who describe it as a flying ox. 
 
 They tell us that cherub in Arabic, is " a ship that car- 
 ries merchandise," and that a cherub is a chariot of 
 God, appointed to carry the Shecinah^ gr bright glory, 
 which is the symbol of God's presen# ; and therefore 
 God is said to ride upon a cherub. Ps. xviii. II, jirchab 
 al cherub, he rode on a cherub : and Psalm civ. 3. it is 
 said he maketh the clouds his chariot, rechub ; so that 
 by the transposition of a letter, which is frequent with 
 tlie Hebrews, it seems to signify a chariot: and in 1 
 Chron. xxviii, 18, the cherubs upon the ark are called 
 " the chariots of the cherubims," and the whole figure in 
 Ezekiel's vision had wheels all about it as a chariot, and 
 yet it is sometimes called the cherub in the singular, and 
 sometimes cherubim or cherubs. 
 
 All this is true ; but in a chariot there are generally 
 «ome animals represented as moving, drawing, or car- 
 rying it. And thjugh in Ezekiel's vision it is a living 
 or animated chariot, with living wheels which had the 
 spirit of the animals in them, Ezek. i. 20, yet there are 
 winged animals to move it, or to move with it. The 
 whole is composed of four living creatures which had 
 faces, and wings, and feet, and hands, joined together 
 in a living machine with wheels, and the God of glory 
 rode upon it. But let us proceed and consider several 
 scriptures more particularly, and in order. 
 
 The first place where we fiod the name mentioned, is 
 
 Gen. iii. ult. " God placed cherubs and ajlaming sword 
 
 to guard the way to the tree of life." This does not seem 
 
 to mean a chariot or chariots, but Uving creatures: if 
 
 Mm 
 
410 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 they were in the shape of men, then a flaming sword 13 
 waving in their hands. If in the form of flying oxen, 
 then with flames about them, flashing out Hke a sword 
 from their eyes, nostrils, or mouth. Perhaps the bra- 
 'zen-footed bulls, breathing out flames, which guarded 
 the golden fleece in Cholchis, may be derived hence 
 by the fabulous Greeks ; 
 
 " AdamanteisVulcanum naribus efflant ^ripedes 
 
 " Tauri." Ovid. 
 
 Or, as the Greeks were wont to compound and divide 
 stories at pleasure, these bulls might keep the gardens 
 of the Hesperides, where golden apples grew, that is, by 
 the fabling inteifh-et-.ition, the fruit of the tree of life ; 
 though generally, I confess, a dragon is made the guar- 
 dian of them, which wild fable might arise from the 
 serpent being there, Gen. iii 1 ; for stories taken from 
 the Bible are variously mangled and confounded by the 
 Heathens. 
 
 Some have supposed indeed these cherubs and fla- 
 ming sword are only a flaming division visible, made of 
 burning pitch and such materials, and that this was kin- 
 dled in the borders of that ground to guard it from men, 
 and that it is attributed to angels after the Jewish man- 
 ner : others think it the divine Shecinah itself, guarding 
 the passage to the tree of life, and clierubs are added 
 by Moses, to represent God's being attended with in- 
 visible angels. But neither of these two last suppositions 
 carry probability with them, because the word cherub 
 is never used in narratives for mere invisible powers, 
 nor for visible inanimate beings ; but it always signifies 
 some visible figure of one animated being or more 
 Joined together, though it is designed to denote these 
 Invisible angelic powers. 
 
 The next scripture where it is mentioned is Exod.. 
 XXV. 18. Among the orders given to Moses for making 
 the ark and the mercy-seat, with the two cherubs to 
 fOver it with their wings, one at one end and the other 
 
OF THE MIND. 411 
 
 at the other end: ver. 19, £0.* And whatsoever figure 
 belonged to these cherubs "which is so much unknown 
 to us, it w^as certainly a common idea and well known 
 figure to the Jews in that day ; for Moses doth not con- 
 cern himself to give any particular description of them, 
 as he does almost of every thing else, ana yet the Jew- 
 ish artificers made them right. 
 
 Some think that these tv/o cherubs on the ark were 
 in the shape of flying oxen, or something near to that 
 figure, and that for these reasons : 
 
 1. Because both^their faces looked towards one anoth- 
 er, and yet both faces downward towards the mercy- 
 seat, Exod. XXV. 20. and xxxvii. 9 ; which posture and 
 description is well suited to an ox, but not so happily 
 adapted to the figure and aspect of the face of a man. 
 
 2. Because the same face which is called the face of 
 an ox, Ezek. i. 10. is called the face of a cherub, Ezek. 
 X. 14 ; and thus a cherub's face is actually and expressly 
 distinguished from that of a man, and determined to be 
 the face of an ox. 
 
 3. Because God is said to ride upon a cherub, Psalm 
 xviii. 10. Though this be a metaphorical expression to 
 describe the grandeur and majesty of God, yet the 
 metaphor must be del ived from some correspondent 
 sensible figure : now the figure of a winged ox, or, at 
 least, of a chariot carried or drawn by winged oxen, is a 
 much fitter vehicle to ride upon in glory, and in majesty 
 and terror, than the figure of a man. 
 
 4. Aaron's calf is reasonably supposed to be a cherub, 
 for neither he nor his abettors can well be imagined so 
 foolish as to make the figure of a mere calf, as some 
 would have it, or of the Eg5'^ptian god Apis, who was 
 worshipped under the form of an ox, when it was made 
 
 * The cherubs in Solomon's temple stand in another situation, 1 Kings 
 vi. 23, for they are placed side by side, so that their four wings reached 
 the whole length of the most holy place. But these seem to be made as 
 some further attendants on the Shecinah or divine glory, besides the two 
 cherul^ which were on the mercy-seat ; for it was the very same ark which 
 Moses made that was introduced into Solomon's temple, 1 Kings viii. 6 ; 
 and the cherubs on it were beaten out of the same mass of gold which 
 made the mercy-seat or covering of the ark, Exod. xxxvii. 7, 8 ; so that 
 it is most likely those ancient cherubs continued there still, and Solomon's 
 were additional attendants in the most holy pla.ce, of a much larger size 
 and overshadowing those on the mercy-seat. " 
 
Am IMPROVEMENT 
 
 an idol for the Israelites to adore, since the Egyptra«|: 
 e<>di, as well as men, partook of the vengeance of the 
 God of Israel for the oppression of his people. Numb, 
 xxxiii. 4. 
 
 It is therefore much more credible that Aaron's calf 
 w;isdesis;ned as a visible symbol of the presence of the 
 God of Israel, even that very God who released them 
 from th(!ir Egyptian masters. The proclnmation made 
 b«'fore t!)is imai^e was this, " These are Ihij ^ods, O Israel, 
 who broHs^ht thee out of the land of Egrjp't. Kxnd. xxxii. 
 
 4. It would be contrary to all reason to represent the 
 E5yptian gods as bringing Isreal from Egypt, for then 
 they would have been kinder to the Israelites, who were 
 strangers, than they were to their own worshippers, 
 the EgyiJtians. Besides, it was a feast to Jehovah, the 
 God of Israel, which they celebrated. Exodus xxxii. 
 
 5. and therefore it is more likely that Aaron's calf was 
 some symbol of the presence of the God of Israel ; and 
 that it might be the figure of a cherub, on or over which 
 they would suppose the divine Shecinah or glory of 
 God to sit; for so it appeared on the ark when it was 
 made, and so it appeared in Ezekiel's visions, Ezek. i, 
 £6 — 28. and X. 18, 19. So David describes it, Psalm xviii. 
 10, when the God of Israel rode on a cherub. 
 
 Shall it be said, that Aaron had not yet received the 
 order for making the cherubs on the ark, and therefore 
 could not know the figures ? But I answer, that cherubs 
 ■were well known to the Jews of that age, as I hinted 
 before, since Moses gives no description of them to 
 instruct the artificers : they were known of old probably 
 to the patriarchs and to mankind, as emblems of divine 
 majesty and terror, guarding the way to the tree of 
 life'. Gen. iii. 24 ; and some have supposed that Aaron 
 ■with his sons and seventy elders saw God in the mount, 
 Exod. xxiv. 10. riding on a cherub, as in Ezek. i. j-ince 
 the other part of that description of God in Exodus rs 
 much like that in Ezekiel i. 26, and x. 1. But I proceed 
 to another argument to prove chirubs to be flying dxen. 
 
 5. Another reason why a cherub is PUj>po?ea to be a 
 winged ox, is this: Jeroboam, the king of Israel, is 
 tnost reasonably supposed to imitate the worship of 
 Jerusalem, when he set up golden calves at Dan and 
 
OF THE MIND. 415 
 
 Bethel, and thus to represent God dwelling between 
 the cherubs on the mercy-seat, that the other tribes of 
 Israel might have the same worship as the Jews at Je- 
 rusalem, and that the ten tribes might not be inclined 
 to go up to Jerusalem to worship, and be in danger of 
 returning to their king llehoboam again : for it is hardly 
 to be supposed, that Jeroboam should so soon persuade 
 all the ten tribes into such gross idolatry as to worship 
 mere calves, though the scriptures calls them so, as 
 usually it does all idols by some word of contempt. 
 
 This idolatry, or worshipping a mere calf, would have 
 been too plain and too gross to be imposed upon thepeo- 
 
 51e at first, and that so soon after their separation irom 
 udah and Jerusalem, this being so expressly contrary 
 to the second command ; "Thou shall not make unto 
 thyself any graven image, nor the likeness of any thin^ 
 that is in heaven, or earth, or the water, fcc." Now if 
 we suppose a cherub to be the figure of a winged ox, or 
 any other winged (igun?, with the face and feet of an 
 ox superadded, it will not be the likeness or image of 
 any tninr, in heaven, earth, or water, and consequently 
 Jeroboam might persuade the people that this was 
 not plaluly forbidden ; nay, more, that it was ordered 
 by Moses in the tabernacle, and such figures were in 
 the temple. 
 
 Let it be further added, that when the worship of 
 Baal was introduced into Israel by Ahab, it seems to 
 be a diiferent idol from the calves ^»t Dan and Bethel, 
 and yet it was something akin to it. The image of 
 Baal was the image of a heifer, as we are told in the 
 first chapter of Tobit, ver. 5. and it is evident that 
 Baal is sometimes used in the masculine, and some- 
 times in the feminine. See 1 Kings xvi. 31. in the 
 septuogint; 1 Kings xix. 18. and the citation of the 
 text in Rom. xi. 4. But if Baal was a common 
 heifer, it is probable these calves of Jeroboam were 
 something different ; for it is plain from many scrip- 
 tures, that Baal was an idol of the Cnnaanites, which 
 Ahab worshipped when both king and people had 
 grown l)old m their idolatry: but the (talves were 
 designed by Jeroboam, for symbols of the presence of 
 Jehovah the God of Israel, and therefore probably 
 thov were not common calves, but cherubs, or wipg- 
 31 m 2 
 
<14 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 ed oxen, or a figure near akin to those in the temple oX 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 6. It is further added, as another reason, that though 
 the tribe of Judah imitated Israel in all their other 
 shapes of idolatry, yet they never imitated Jeroboam's 
 «alves: now what reason can be given for this, unless 
 it be because the Jews are supposed to have had the 
 yery originals at Jerusalem, that is, the cherubs upon 
 the mercy-seat in the form of flying calves or oxen. 
 
 These arguments seem to carry great weight with 
 them, yet others have supposed the cherub to he a 
 winged man, because it is described often with one face 
 at least as a man, and also with hands in scripture. 
 Some of the Jews say, it is a young man in beauty and 
 vigour, because it has been generally taken for granted 
 that the cherubs represent angels, which are God's at- 
 tendants, w hose vigour and beauty are ever fresh and 
 immortal, and angels, they say, always appear under 
 the figure of men : and they suppose that in this form 
 multitudes of them were wrought in the curtains 
 and vail and ail the parts of the tabernacle and tem- 
 ple, as imitating the presence of angels where God 
 dwells. 
 
 It is granted that cherubs represent angelic powers, 
 attending on the great God, but whether the form of a 
 winded man were wrought on the curtains or vail is 
 yet in doubt: and whether this argument be sufficient 
 to outweigh all that is said in favour of the shape of 
 winged oxen, let the reader judge. 
 
 This I think is remarkable, that though angels are al- 
 ways introduced speaking as men with a voice, and 
 seraphs also speak, as Isa. vi. 3, 6, 7, yet I do not find 
 that cherubs ever spoke ; and when Ezekiel tells us in so 
 distinguishing a manner, they had the hands of a man 
 under their wings, Ezek. i. B, it looks as if all the rest 
 of their parts were not exactly those of a man, but of 
 a creature which is not so much designed to perform 
 rational or human offices, since it appears ihere, and in 
 other places, as some kind of living vehicle or divine 
 equipage, rather than as a rational attendant on the 
 ^majesty of God, exercising its intellectual powers. 
 
 Perhaps we have not any place of scripture from 
 
OF THE MIND. M 
 
 ,which we can derive the complete figure of a cherub 
 better than the first, and tenth, and forty-first chapters 
 of Ezekiel ; for all the four animals in Ezekiel's vision, 
 which are mentioned, Ezek. i. 5, and x. 14, are several 
 times called cherubs. 
 
 If we ioquire what their body or general figure was. 
 the prophet says, it was the figure or likeness of a mam, 
 Ezek. i. 5. But each of them had four faces, and each 
 had four wings, ver. 6. Their legs were straight, prob- 
 ably like the four legs of a calf or ox, oi- like that of a 
 man ; and their feet were cloven as an ox's foot, ver. 7. 
 Under their wings they had the hands of a man on their 
 four sides, ver. 8. . 
 
 Each of them had the face of a man before, and 
 this stood in the middle between the face of a lion on 
 the right side, and the face of an ox or a calf on the 
 left side ; and the face of an eagle perhaps was placed 
 in the middle above them or behind, though it is not 
 expressly said it was behind, or above ; but it is proba- 
 ble the fpur faces looked four different wa;^s. 
 
 But here it must be observed, that what is called the 
 face of an ox, Ezek. i. 10. is called the face of a cherub,- 
 supposing them the same. Ezek. x. 14. A cherub, ha&' 
 also the feet of a calf or ox, as before mentioned. So 
 that a cherub appears, upon the whole^ to be nearer to 
 the figures of a winged ox and a man with wings, than 
 to any other creature, for it has the hands, body, and 
 face of a man ; and it has also the face and feet of an ox : 
 it has nothing of a lion but the face, and that is not al- 
 ways mentioned : it has indeed the wings of an eagle 
 always, but an eagle's face is mentioned as one part of 
 a cherub no where else but in this vision. 
 
 Note. — ^This vision does not describe whether each 
 of those animals had four feet or two ; but it is probable 
 they had but too feet, because it is said, they had the 
 likeness of a man, that is, the figure of his body. 
 
 It is plain they had four wings, ver. 6, two of their 
 wings were stretched upward as for flight, and two 
 covered their bodies, that is, the lower part of tlieir 
 body, for which decency requires a covering.' It is 
 very t:idiculous, therefore, to describe them, a§ §ome 
 
41S IMPROVEMENT 
 
 painters do like naked boys with little wings on their 
 shoulders only. 
 
 In these four various faces, the various properties of 
 angels seem to be represented, namely. The understan- 
 dhif^jand beauty of a man, the obedience and labour, or 
 diligence of an ox, the courage and strength of a lion, 
 logf^her with the sharp sight and swiftness of an eagle 
 in fulfilling tlie commands of God, and in administering 
 his providence. 
 
 It may not be improper also to take notice here, that 
 these four creatures, namely, a man, a lion, an ox, and 
 an eagle, are unanimously reported by the Jews, though 
 not with sufficient proof, to have been wrought upon 
 the standards of the four leading tribes of tlie camp 
 of Israel, as they are ranged JNumb. ii. namely, a 
 lion the standard ofJudah, a man the standard of Reu- 
 ben, an ox the standard of Ephraim, and an eagle the 
 standajd ofDan. And these also were the figures of 
 the four living creatures, in Greek which ought not to be 
 translated beasts, Rev. iv. 6, which are before the throne 
 of God, who had each of them six wings, and were full 
 of eyes, and are ever engaged in divine worship. I'hese 
 figures in these several places may denote, that where- 
 everGodis, the creatures that attend him, whether 
 they be men or angels, should be furnished with these 
 qualifications, namely, understanding, obedience, cour- 
 age, and swiftness. 
 
 But let us proceed to search out, wiiatissaid yet fur- 
 ther concerning a cherub in scripture. 
 
 In Ezek. xli. 19, 25. The inner part of Ezekiel's 
 temple was adorned with intermingled cherubs and 
 palm-trees, carved on the walls and doors. Here every 
 cherub had two faces, namely, that of a man and that 
 of a lion ; but as they are called cherubs, w^e may still 
 conclude their feet were the feet of a calf or ox. And 
 why may not Solomon's temple be adorned with the 
 ^ame sort of cherubs and palm-trees, 1 Kings vi. 29, that 
 is, with the faces of a man and a lion, and the feet of an 
 ox, though their faces are not expressly mentioned in 
 that place. 
 
 Solomon's ten lavers for the temple had their several 
 luases adorned in, the border between the ledges, with 
 
OF THE MIND. 41? 
 
 lions, oxen, and cherubs, 1 Kines vii. 29 ; so that here 
 a cherub seems to be mentioned instead of the face of 
 a man, and to be distinguished from an ox, though in 
 Ezekiel's vision, chap. i. andx. the face of a cherub is 
 phiinly tlie same with the face of an ox. Yet on the 
 plates of the ledges were cherubims, lions, and palm- 
 trees, 1 Kings vii. 36, where neither the face of an ox nor 
 man is mentioned. 
 
 Perhaps these differences may in some measure be 
 reconciled, if we observe that these cherubs which ador- 
 ned the walls of Ezekiel's visionary temple, and of 
 Solomon's real temple, and the borders of the brazen 
 lavers, are only graven or carved upon the flat or plane, 
 or at least, with some little protuberance above the flat, 
 which the Italians call Basso Relievo : and then that 
 figure which would have had all four faces visible if it 
 had stood forth by itself as a real animal, or a statute, 
 namely, that of a man, a lion, an ox, and an eagle, can 
 have but two faces visible, or three at the most, when 
 figured upon a plane or flat surface; the other one or 
 two being hid behind : and thus the cherubs may be in 
 all these places the sara(> four-faced animals, and yet 
 only two or three of their faces appear, according to 
 their designed situation and the art of perspective. 
 A.nd perhaps Solomon might diversify these figures 
 for the sake of variety in different parts of the sacred 
 works.* 
 
 Upon the whole, what if we should conclude a cherub 
 to be most usually figured with a body like a man with 
 four wings, two whereof are stretched for flight, and tw(!)» 
 covering the lower parts ; with the feet of an ox or 
 calf ; with the head of a man or an ox, whatever other 
 faces were joined to it, whether lions or eagles, or 
 whether it liad any other face or no. It is more likely 
 
 * It is the opinion of some learned men that Ezekiel's temple was but a 
 kind of repetition of the pattern of the same temple which God gave to 
 David, and by which Solomon built his temple. And that this pattern 
 was given to Ezekrel that he might show it to the Jews, if they were pious 
 and obedient, to animate them to hope for another temple in" their own 
 land, and to instruct them in the building of it when they should be re- 
 leased from Babylon, Ezek. xl. 4, and xliJi. 10, 11 *, since it was supposed 
 none remained who could remember so much of their oW temple as t<> 
 glTe particular directions for the building of it,. 
 
418 IMPROVEJVIENT 
 
 there was but one sort efface belonging to each of the 
 two cherubs on the mercy-seat, because it is said, their 
 faces look towards one another ; but whether this was 
 the face of an ox or a man is not yet absolutely deter- 
 mined. 
 
 I think we may allow Jeroboam to be supposed to 
 imitate these cherubs which were on the mercy-seat, 
 in his idolatrous worship ; and though they had not the 
 perfect shape of a calf, yet they might be called calves 
 m scripture language, by way of reproach and contempt, 
 becaube they had the feet of a calf if not the head also. 
 
 Jt is evident that Aaron's idol, which was called the 
 golden calf, had more of the resemblance of an ox or 
 calf than of a man, because the Israelites are said to 
 change then- glory, that is, their God, into the similitude 
 of an ox that eateth grass, Psalm cvi. 19, £0, which 
 would hardly have been thus expressed if the idol had 
 nothing of a calf but its feet. 
 
 If any will iuiagine that in Psalm xviii. where God is 
 said to ride upon a cherub, the grandeur and terror of 
 the appearance may require the whole figure of a flying 
 ox, rather than of a flying man, or rather of aflj/ing ani- 
 mal with all these four faces, I will not oppose it, since 
 it is plain from this whole account, that a cherub is de- 
 scribed sometimes more hke a winged ox, and some- 
 times more like a winged man with feet like oxen or 
 calves. But where it is represented complete in all its 
 various forms united, as in the first and tenth chapters 
 of Ezekiel, it seems to be the body of a winged man 
 with calves' feet, and with four faces, namely, that of a 
 man, an ox, a lion, and an eagle ; and thus it is always 
 designed to represent the various properties of angels, 
 which are attendants on the blessed God, more per- 
 fectly than any one of these creatures could do alone. 
 Perhaps when the Jewish nation shall be converted 
 and become behevers in Christ, there may be such a 
 new effusion of the Spirit on men, or such a happy dis- 
 covery some way made of the darker parts of the Mo- 
 saic (Economy, and the writings of the prophets, as may 
 show us more of the resemblance which God designed 
 between the types of the law in the temple and priest- 
 hood, and their antitypes in the gospel, than has evetr 
 
OF THE MIND. 419 
 
 yet appeared ; and among other things the form of a 
 cherub, as an attendance of angehc beings on the 
 majesty of God in the holy of hoUes, may appear more 
 conspicuously in its original truth and glory. 
 
 ■ XXL The Author's solemn Address to the great and 
 ever blessed God, on a Review of what he had written 
 in the Trinitarian Controversy, prefixed hy him to 
 some Pieces on that Subject^ which it was not judged 
 necessary to publish. 
 
 Righteous art thou, O I.ord, when I plead 
 with thee ; yet I may talk with thee concerning thy 
 judgments. Permit me, O my God and Father, to 
 plead with thee concerning the revelations of thy nature 
 and thy grace, which are made in thy gospel ; and let 
 me do it with all that humble reverence, and that holy 
 awe of thy Majesty, which becomes a creature in the 
 presence of his God. 
 
 Hast thou not, OLord God Almighty ! hast thou not 
 transacted thy divine and ir/iportant aftairs among men 
 by thy Son, Jesus Christ, and by thy Holy Spirit ? And 
 hast thou not ordained that men should transact their 
 highest and most momentous concerns with thee by 
 thy Son and by thy Spirit? Hast thou not by the 
 mouth of thy Son, Jesus, required all that profess his 
 religion, to be washed with water, in the name of the 
 Father, and the Son, and the holy Ghost ? Is it not my 
 duty, then, to inquire, who or what are these sacrecl 
 names, and what they signify ? Must I not know thee, 
 the only true God, and Jesus Christ, thy Son, whom 
 thou hast sent, that I may fulfil all my respective duties 
 toward thyself and thy Son, in hope of eternal life ? 
 Hath not thy Son himself appealed to thee in his last 
 prayer, that eternal life depends upon this knowl- 
 edge? And since thou hast made so much use of thy 
 Holy Spirit in our religion, must I not have some 
 knowledge of this thy Spirit also, that I may pay thee 
 
420 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 all these honours thou requircst from this divine reve 
 lation ? 
 
 Hist thou not ascribed divine names, and titles, and 
 characters to thy Son and thy Holy Spirit, in thy word, 
 as well as assumed them to thyself? And hast thou not 
 appointed to them such glorious offices as cannot be 
 executed Avithout something of diAinity or true god- 
 head in them ? And yet art not thou, and thou alone, 
 the true God? How shall a poor weak creature be able 
 to adjust and reconcile these clashing ideas, and to un- 
 derstand this mystery? Or must 1 believe and act 
 blindfold, without understanding ? 
 
 Holy Father, thou kno west how firmly I believe, with 
 all my soul, whatsoever thou hast plainly written and 
 revealed in thy word. I believe thee to be the only 
 true God, the supreme of beings, self-sufficient for thine 
 own existence, and for all thy infinite affairs and trans- 
 actions among creatures. I believe thy Son, Jesus 
 Christ, to be all-sufficient for the glorious woik of 
 mediation between God and man, to which thou hast 
 appointed him. I belinve he is a man in whom dwells 
 all the fulness of the Godhead bodilv. I believe he is 
 one with God ; he is God manifested in the flesh ; and 
 that the man Jesus is so closely and inseparably united 
 with the true and eternal Godhead as to become one 
 person, even as the human soul and body makes one 
 man. I believe that this illustrious person is hereby 
 possessed of divine dignity, sufficient to make full 
 atonement for the sins of men, by his sufferings and 
 death, even though sin be accounted an infinite evil ; 
 and that he hath all-sufficient power to raise himself 
 from the dead, to ascend to heaven, and fulfil the 
 blessed works for which thou hast exalted him, and to 
 govern and judge the world in thine appointed time. 
 
 I believe also thy blessed Spirit hath almighty power 
 and influence to do all thy will ; to instruct men effec- 
 tually in divine truths; to change the hearts of fallen 
 mankind from sin to holinsss ; to carry on thy Avork of 
 illumination, sanctification, and consolation, on all the 
 souls of all thy children, and to bring them safe to the 
 heavenly world. I yield myself up joyfully and thank- 
 fully to this method of thy salvation, as it is revealed 
 
OP THE MIND. 421 
 
 fji thy gospel. But I acknowledge my darkness still. 
 I want to have this wonderful doctrine, of the all-suffi- 
 ciency of thy Son and thy Spirit for these divine works, 
 made a little plainer. May not thy humlSle creature be 
 permitted to know what share they can have in thy 
 deity ? Is it vain and sinful curiosity, to desire to have 
 this article set in such a light as may not diminish the 
 eternal glory of the unity of the true God, nor of the 
 supremacy of thee, the Father of all ? 
 
 Hadst ttiou informed me, gracious Father, in any 
 place of thy word, that this divine doctrine is not to be 
 understood by men, and yet they were required to 
 believe it, I would have subdued all my curiosity to 
 faith, and submitted my wandering and doubtful ima- 
 ginations as far as it was possible, to the holy and wise 
 determinations of thy w^ord. But I cannot find thou 
 hast any where forbid me to understand it, or to make 
 these inquiries. My conscience is the best natural 
 light thou hast put within me ; and since thou hast given 
 me the scriptures, my own conscience bids me search 
 the scriptures, to find out truth and eternal life : it bids 
 me try all things, and hold fast that which is good. 
 And thy own word, by the same expressions, encoura- 
 ges this holy practice. I have, therefore, been long 
 searching into this divine doctrine, that I may pay thee 
 due honour with understanding. Surely I ought to 
 know the God whom I worship, whether he be one 
 pure and simple being, or whether thou art a threefold 
 Deity, consisting of the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Spirit. 
 
 Dear and blessed God, hadst thou been pleased, in 
 any one plain scripture, to have informed me which of 
 the different opinions about the holy Trinity, among 
 the contending parties of Christians, had been true, 
 thou knowest with how much zeal, satisfaction, and 
 joy, my unbiassed heart would have opened*itself to 
 receive and embracevthe divine discovery. Hadst thou 
 told me plainly, in any single text, that the Father, 
 Son, and Holy Spirit, are three real, distinct persons 
 in thy divine nature, I had never sufl'ered myself to be 
 bewildered in so many doubts, nor embarrassed with 
 SO many strong fears of assenting to the mere inven- 
 
422 IMPROVEMENT 
 
 tions of men, instead of divine doctrine ; but I should, 
 have humbly and immediately accepted thy word, so 
 far as it was possible for me to understand it, as the 
 only rule of my faitli ; or, hadst thou been pleased so 
 to express and include this proposition in the several 
 scattered parts of thy book, from whence my reason 
 and conscience might with ease find out, and with 
 certainty infer this doctrine, I should have joyfully 
 employed all my reasoning pow ers, with their utmost 
 skill and activity, to have found out this inference, and 
 ingrafted it into' my soul. 
 
 Thou hast taught me, holy Father, by the prophets, 
 that the way of holiness, in the times of the gospel, or 
 under the kingdom of the Messiah, shall be a highway, 
 a plain and easy path ; so that the wayfaring man or 
 the stranger, though a fool, shall not err therem. And 
 thou hast called the poor and the ignorant, the mean 
 and foolish things of this world, to the knowledge of 
 thyself and thy Son, and taught them to receive and 
 partake of the salvation which thou hast provided. 
 But how can such weak creatures ever take in so 
 strange, so difficult, and so pbstruse a doctrine as this ; 
 in the explication and defelice whereof multitudes of 
 men, even men of learning and piety, have lost them- 
 selves in infinite subtilities of dispute and endless 
 mazes of darkness ? And can this strange and perplex- 
 ing notion, of three real and distinct persons going to 
 make up one true God, be so necessary imd so impor- 
 tant a part of that Christian doctrine which, in the Old 
 Testament and the New, is represented as so plain and 
 so easy, even to the meanest understandings ? 
 
 Othou searcher of hearts, who knowest all things, I 
 appeal to thee concerning the sincerity of my inquiries 
 into these discoveries of thy word. Thou knowesi aie, 
 thou hast seen me, and hast tried my heart towards 
 thee : if there be any lurking hypocrisy in my heart, 
 and secret bias towards any thing but truth, uncover it, 
 O Father of lights, and banish it from my soul for ever^ 
 If thine eye discover the least spark of criminal preju- 
 dice in any corner of my soul, extinguish it utterly,- 
 that I may not be led astray from the truth, in matters 
 
 ^1 
 
OF THE MIND. 42S 
 
 of such importance, by the least glance oi" error or 
 mistake. 
 
 Thou art witness, O my God, with what diligence, 
 with what constancy and care, I have read and search- 
 ed thy holy word ; now early and late, by night and 
 by day, I have been making these inquiries. How 
 fervently have 1 been seeking thee on my bended 
 knees, and directing my humble addresses to thee to 
 enlighten my darkoess, and to show me the meaning of 
 thy word, that I may learn what I must believe, and what 
 I must practise with regard to this doctrine, in order to 
 please thee and obtain eternal life ! 
 
 Great God, who seest all things, thou hast beheld 
 what busy temptations have been often fluttering 
 about my heart to call it oflf from these laborious and 
 difficult inquiries, and to give up thy word and thy 
 gospel as an unintelUgible book, and betake myself to 
 the light of nature and reason: but thou hast been 
 pleased, by thy divine power, to scatter these tempta- 
 tions, and fix my heart and my hope again upon that 
 Saviour and that eternal life which thou hast revealed 
 in thy word, and proposed therein to our knowledge 
 and our acceptance. Blessed be the name of my God, 
 who has not suffered me to abandon the gospel of his 
 Son, Jesus ! and blessed be that holy Spirit that has 
 kept me attentive to the truth delivered in thy gospel, 
 and inclined me to wait longer in my^earch of these 
 divine truths, under the hope of thy ^acious illumina- 
 tion. 
 
 1 humbly call thee to witness, O my God, what a holy 
 jealousy, 1 ever wear about my heart, lest I should do 
 the slightest dishonour to thy supreme Majesty, in any 
 of nay inquiries or determinations. Thou seest what a 
 religious fear, and what a tender solicitude I maintain 
 on my soul, lest 1 should think or speak any thing to 
 dihiinish the grandeurs and honours of thy Son Jesus, 
 my dear Mediator, to whom I owe my everlasting 
 hopes. Thou knowest how much afraid I am of 
 speaking one word which may be construed into a 
 neglect of thy blessed Spirit, from whom I hope 1 am 
 imy receiving happy influences of light and strength. 
 
4£4 IMPROYEMENT 
 
 Guard all the motions of my mind, O Almighty ©o^ 
 against every thing that borders upon thf se dangers^ 
 Forbid my thoughts to indulge, and forbid my pen to 
 write, one word that should sink those grana ideaa 
 which belong to thyself, or thy Son, or thy holy Spirit, 
 Forbid it, O my God, that ever I should be so unhappy 
 as to unglorify my Father, my Saviour, or my Sancti- 
 fier, in any of my. sentiments op expressions, concern- 
 ing them. 
 
 Blessed and faithful God, hast thou not promised, 
 that the meek thou wilt guide in judgment, the meek 
 thou wilt teach thy way ? Hast thou not told us, by 
 Isaiah, thy prophet, that thou wilt brine the blind by a 
 way which they knew not, and wilt lead them in paths 
 which they have not known ? Hast thou not informed 
 us, by the prophet Hosea, that if we follow on to know 
 the Lord, thpn we shall know him ? Hath not thy Son, 
 our Saviour, assured us, that our Heavenly Father wilj 
 give his Holy Spirit to them who ask him ? And is he 
 not appointed to guide us into all truth ? Have I not 
 sought the gracious guidance of thy good Spirit con- 
 tinually ? Am I not truly sensible of my own darkness 
 and weakness, my dangerous prejudices on every side, 
 and my utter insufficiency for my own conduct? Wilt 
 thou leave such a poor creature, bewildered among a 
 thousand perplexities which are raised by the various 
 opinions and contrivances of men to explain thy divine 
 truth ? 
 
 Help me. Heavenly Father, for I am quite tired and 
 weary of these human explainings, so various and 
 uncertain. When wilt thou explain it to me thyself, O 
 my God, by the secret and certain dictates of thy Spirit, 
 according to the intimations of thy word ? nor let any 
 pride of reason, nor any affectation of novelty, nor 
 any criminal bias whatsoever, turn my heart aside 
 from hearkening to these divine dictates of thy word 
 and thy Spirit. Suffer not any of my native corrup- 
 tions, nor the vanity of my imagination, to cast a mist 
 over my eyes, while I am searching after the knowledge 
 of thy mind and will, for my eternal salvation ! 
 
 I intreat, O most merciful Father, that thou wilt not 
 mSev the remnant of my short life to be wagted ii?i 
 
OF THE MIND. 4 25 
 
 such endless wanderings in quest of thee and thy Son, 
 Jesus, as great part of ray past days have been ; but 
 let my sincere endeavours to know thee, in ali the w.iys 
 whereby thou hast discovered thyself in thy word, he 
 crowned with such success, that my soul, being estab- 
 lished in every needful truth by the Holy Spirit, I may 
 spend my remaining life accoi-di:ii^ to the rules of thy 
 gospel : and may, with all the bo;y and happy creation, 
 ascribe glory and honour, wisdom and power, to thee, 
 who sittest upon the throne, and to the Lamb, for ever 
 and for ever. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 W\>W»»VW\/WW\VVX/V»/VVW 
 
 James k John Harper, Printers, 
 138 Fulton-Street. 
 
 WVVWV\(^VWVWW\'W*VW 
 
 N nS 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 
 PART I. 
 
 XIFE of the Author . . ^^ 
 
 Pii tace, ]'ar' I 
 
 Prelace, i'ai 1 11 ---..--.. ..] 
 The liurouucaun ----- .-..i 
 
 Ciiapier 1. Ge;i>;ial rules for the improvement of knowledge - j 
 
 Chap. 11. five methods of improving-, described and compared, viz. 
 Observation, reaaing, insiruciion oy lectures, conversation, and 
 stuUy,withtlieir several atlvantages anciuefects - - - - J 
 Cliap. 111. Of observation, either by the senses or the mind - - >■ 
 Chap. IV. Of reading anu booh>, with di. ections leiaiing thereto 
 Chap. V. The jucigmeni of boolts, both ai>probaiii<r ana censure 
 Chap. VI. Ofiiviiiginstructior.saudieciures,of lea. jiersaiid learners - < 
 Chap. VTl. ul learning a language;, pari.culariy ibc Latin 
 Chap. Vlll. 01 inquu'ing into the sense and meaning ot auj writer 
 
 or speaker, whether human or divine 
 
 Chap. IX. C't C0iiveisa:iun and profiting by it, ana of persons- lit or 
 
 unfit for tree converse - - 
 
 Chaj^i. X. Of liisputes, ana general rules relating to ihem 
 Chap. Al. Of Sociatical disputation, by question and answer - - 1 
 Chap. XII. Of forensic disputes in courts ol justice or public assem- 
 blies 1 
 
 Chap. XIII. Of academic or scholastic disputes, and the rules of them, 
 
 and iiow far they may be useful .---.-- 1 
 Chap. AiV. Of study, or meditation, and the final determination of 
 
 things by our own juugmeni 1 
 
 Chap. XV. Of fixing lixC attention 1 
 
 Chap. XVI. Of enlarging the capacity of the mind - - - - 1 
 Chap. XVli. Of theuieinoiy, and the improvement thereof - • 1 
 Chap. XVIII. 01 aeterminiug a question j several cautions about it ; 
 cf reason and revelation-, of argument and ridicule 5 of assent only 
 in proportion to evidence, ic - ' ^ ' ' ' ' "7 
 Chap. XIX Of inquiring into causes and elfects - - - - I 
 Chap. XiL. Of the sciences, and their uses in particular professions - 1 
 
 PART II. 
 
 THE Introduction - - - " ,." " " ' ' ' ^ 
 
 Chapter I. Aleihod of teaching, and reading lectures - - - 2 
 
 Chau. II. Of an instructive style - - - - - - - 2 
 
 Chap. Ill- Ot convincing of truth, or delivering Irom error - - ^ 
 
 Chap. IV. The use and abuse of authority S 
 
 Chap. V. Of managing the prejudices of men S 
 
 Chap. VI. Of instruction by preaching ^ 
 
 Ciiap. VII. Of writing books for the pubhc ^ 
 
 ^hap. VIII. Of writing and reading controversies - - - - i 
 
 A discourse on the education of children 2 
 
 E^ays and composures on various subjects : ! : " ' *»