honesty and virtue, but with a crafty design to promote and advance more effectually their own interests; and therefore the justice of the divine providence hath hid this truest point of wisdom from their eyes, that bad men might not be upon equal terms with the just and upright, and serve their own wicked designs by honest and lawful means. Indeed, if a man were only to deal in the world for a day, and should never have occasion to converse more with mankind, never more need their good opinion or good word, it were then no great matter (speaking as to the concernments of this world) if a man spent his reputation all at once, and ventured it at one throw: but if he be to continue in the world, and would have the advantage of conversation whilst he is in it, let him make use of truth and sincerity in all his words and actions; for nothing but this will last and hold out to the end all other arts will fail, but truth and integrity will carry a man through, and bear him out to the last. Spectator. 23. Rules for the Knowledge of One's Self. Hypocrisy, at the fashionable end of the town, is very different from that in the city. The modish hypocrite endeavours to appear more vicious than he really is; the other kind of hypocrite more virtuous. The former is afraid of every thing that has the shew of religion in it, and would be thought engaged in many criminal gallantries and amours, which he is not guilty of; the latter assumes a face of sanctity, and covers a multitude of vices ander a seeming religious deportment. But there is another kind of hypocrisy, which differs from both these, and which I intend to make the subject of this paper: I mean that hypocrisy, by which a man does not only deceive the world, but very often imposes on himself; that hypocrisy which conceals his own heart from him, and makes him believe he is more virtuous than he really is, and either not attend to his views, or mistake even his vices for virtues. It is this fatal hypocrisy and selfdeceit, which is taken notice of in these words: Who can understand his errors? 'cleanse thou me from my secret faults.' If the open professors of impiety deserve the utmost application and endeavours of moral writers, to recover them from vice and folly, how much more may those lay a claim to their care and compassion, who I would therefore propose the following In the first place, let them consider well, what are the characters which they bear among their enemies. Our friends very often flatter us as much as our own hearts. They either do not see our faults, or conceal them from us, or soften them by their representations, after such a manner, that we think them too trivial to be taken notice of. An adversary, on the contrary, makes a stricter search into us, discovers every flaw and imperfection in our tempers; and, though his malice may set them in too strong a light, it has generally some ground for what it advances. A friend exaggerates a man's virtues, an enemy inflames his crimes. A wise man should give a just attention to both of them, so far as they may tend to the improvement of the one, and the diminution of the other. Plutarch has written an essay on the benefits which a man may receive from his enemies; and among the good fruits of enmity, mentions this in particular, "that, by the reproaches which it casts upon us, we see the worst side of ourselves, and open our eyes to several blemishes and defects in our lives and conversations, which we should not have observed without the help of such ill-natured monitors." In order likewise to come to a true knowledge of ourselves, we should consider on the other hand, how far we may deserve the praises and approbations which D the the world bestow upon us; whether the actions they celebrate proceed from laudable and worthy motives; and how far we are really possessed of the virtues, which gain us applause among those with whom we converse. Such a reflection is absolutely necessary, if we consider how apt we are either to value or condemn ourselves by the opinion of others, and to sacrifice the report of our own hearts to the judgment of the world. : In the next place, that we may not deceive ourselves in a point of so much importance, we should not lay too great a stress on any supposed virtues we possess, that are of a doubtful nature and such we may esteem all those in which multitudes of men dissent from us, who are as good and wise as ourselves. We should always act with great cautiousness and circumspection, in points where it is not impossible that we may be deceived. Intemperate zeal, bigotry, and persecution, for any party or opinion, how praiseworthy soever they may appear to weak men of our own principles, produce infinite calamities among mankind, and are highly criminal in their own nature; and yet how many persons, eminent for piety, suffer such monstrous and absurd principles of action to take root in their minds under the colour of virtues? For my own part, I must own, I never yet knew any party so just and reasonable, that a man could follow it in its height and violence, and at the same time be innocent. our souls in such a solid and substantia virtue as will turn to account in that great day, when it must stand the test of infinite wisdom and justice. I shall conclude this essay with observ. ing, that the two kinds of hypocrisy I have here spoken of, namely, that of deceiving the world, and that of imposing on ourselves, are touched with wonderful beauty in the hundred thirty-ninth psalm. The folly of the first kind of hypocrisy is there set forth by reflections on God's omniscience and omnipresence, which are celebrated in as noble strains of poetry as any other I ever met with, either sacred or profane. The other kind of hypocrisy, whereby a man deceives himself, is intimated in the two last verses, where the Psalmist addresses himself to the great Searcher of hearts in that emphatical petition; "Try me, O God, and seek the ground of my heart; prove me and examine my "thoughts: look well if there be any way " of wickedness in me, and lead me in the "way everlasting." Spectator. 66 $ 24. No Life pleasing to God, but that which is useful to Mankind. An Eastern Story. It pleased our mighty sovereign Abbas Carascan, from whom the kings of the earth derive honour and dominion, to set Mirza his servant over the province of Tauris. In the hand of Mirza, the balance of distribution was suspended with impartiality; and under his administraWe should likewise be very apprehen- tion the weak were protected, the learned sive of those actions, which proceed from received honour, and the diligent became natural constitution, favourite passions, par- rich: Mirza, therefore, was beheld by ticular education, or whatever promotes every eye with complacency, and every our worldly interest or advantage. In tongue pronounced blessings upon his these or the like cases, a man's judgment head. But it was observed that he derived is easily perverted, and a wrong bias hung no joy from the benefits which he difupon his mind. These are the inlets of fused; he became pensive and melanchoprejudice, the unguarded avenues of the ly; he spent his leisure in solitude; in his mind, by which a thousand errors and palace he sat motionless upon a sofa; and secret faults find admission, without being when he went out, his walk was slow, observed or taken notice of. A wise man and his eyes were fixed upon the ground: will suspect those actions to which he is he applied to the business of state with redirected by something besides reason, and luctance; and resolved to relinquish the always apprehend some concealed evil in toil of government, of which he could no every resolution that is of a disputable na- longer enjoy the reward. ture, when it is conformable to his particular temper, his age, or way of life, or when it favours his pleasure or his profit. There is nothing of greater importance to us, than thus diligently to sift our thoughts, and examine all these dark recesses of the mind, if we would establish He, therefore, obtained permission to approach the throne of our sovereign; and being asked what was his request, he made this reply: "May the Lord of the world "forgive the slave whom he has honour" ed, if Mirza presume again to lay the "bounty of Abbas at his feet. Thou hast 8 « given given me the dominion of a country, "fruitful as the gardens of Damascus; "and a city glorious above all others, ex"cept that only which reflects the splen"dour of thy presence. But the longest "life is a period scarce sufficient to pre"pare for death: all other business is vain "and trivial, as the toil of emmets in the "path of the traveller, under whose foot "they perish for ever; and all enjoyment "is unsubstantial and evanescent, as the "colours of the bow that appears in the "interval of a storm. Suffer me, there"fore, to prepare for the approach of "eternity; let me give up my soul to "meditation; let solitude and silence ac"quaint me with the mysteries of devo"tion; let me forget the world, and by "the world be forgotten, till the moment "arrives in which the veil of eternity shall "fall, and I shall be found at the bar of "the Almighty." Mirza then bowed himself to the earth, and stood silent. By the command of Abbas, it is recorded, that at these words he trembled upon the throne, at the footstool of which the world pays homage; he looked round upon his nobles; but every countenance was pale, and every eye was upon the earth. No man opened his mouth and the king first broke silence, after it had continued near an hour. 66 "Mirza, terror and doubt are come " upon me. I am alarmed as a man who suddenly perceives that he is near the "brink of a precipice, and is urged for"ward by an irresistible force: but yet I "know not whether my danger is a rea❝lity or a dream. I am as thou art, a "reptile of the earth: my life is a mo"ment, and eternity, in which days, and "years, and ages, are nothing, eternity is "before me, for which I also should pre"pare: but by whom then must the Faith"ful be governed? by those only, who have no fear of judgment? by those "only, whose life is brutal, because like "brutes they do not consider that they "shall die? Or who, indeed, are the "Faithful? Are the busy multitudes that "crowd the city, in a state of perdition? " and is the cell of the Dervise alone the gate of Paradise? To all, the life of a "Dervise is not possible: to all, there"fore, it cannot be a duty. Depart to "the house which has in this city been "prepared for thy residence: I will me"ditate the reason of thy request: and He who illuminates the mind of the 46 may "humble, enable me to determine with "wisdom." Mirza departed; and on the third day having received no command, he again requested an audience, and it was granted. When he entered the royal presence, his countenance appeared more cheerful; he drew a letter from his bosom, and having kissed it, he presented it with his right hand. "My Lord!" said he, "I have "learned by this letter, which I received "from Cosrou the Iman, who stands now "before thee, in what manner life may "be best improved. I am enabled to "look back with pleasure, and forward "with hope; and I shall now rejoice still "to be the shadow of thy power at Tauris, "and to keep those honours which I so lately wished to resign." The king, 66 who had listened to Mirza with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, immediately gave the letter to Cosrou, and commanded that it should be read. The eyes of the court were at once turned upon the hoary sage; whose countenance was suffused with an honest blush; and it was not without some hesitation that he read these words: "To Mirza, whom the wisdom of Ab"bas our mighty Lord has honoured with "dominion, be everlasting health! When "I heard thy purpose to withdraw the "blessings of thy government from the "thousands of Tauris, my heart was "wounded with the arrow of affliction, "and my eyes became dim with sorrow. "But who shall speak before the king "when he is troubled; and who shall "boast of knowledge when he is distressed "by doubt? To thee will I relate the " events of my youth, which thou hast "renewed before me; and those truths "which they taught me, may the Prophet "multiply to thee! "Under the instruction of the physician "Aiuzar, I obtained an early knowledge "of his art. To those who were smitten "with disease, I could administer plants, "which the sun has impregnated with the "spirit of health. But the scenes of pain, "languor, and mortality, which were per 66 petually rising before me, made me of"ten tremble for myself. I saw the grave 66 open at my feet; I determined there"fore, to contemplate only the regions "beyond it, and to despise every acquisi"tion which I could not keep. I con"ceived an opinion, that as there was no "merit but in voluntary poverty, and "silent meditation, those who desired moD 2 "ney 66 ney were not proper objects of bounty; "and that by all who were proper objects "of bounty money was despised. I, "therefore, buried mine in the earth; "and renouncing society, I wandered "into a wild and sequestered part of the "country: my dwelling was a cave by "the side of a hill; I drank the running "water from the spring, and ate such "fruits and herbs as I could find. To "increase the austerity of my life, I fre"quently watched all night, sitting at the "entrance of the cave with my face to "the east, resigning myself to the secret "influences of the Prophet, and expecting "illuminations from above. One morn"ing, after my nocturnal vigil, just as I "perceived the horizon glow at the ap"proach of the sun, the power of sleep "became irresistible, and I sunk under it. "I imagined myself still sitting at the "entrance of my cell; that the dawn in"creased; and that as I looked earnestly "for the first beam of day, a dark spot "appeared to intercept it. I perceived "that it was in motion; it increased in "size as it drew near, and at length I dis"covered it to be an eagle. I still kept "my eye fixed steadfastly upon it, and saw "it alight at a small distance, where I "now descried a fox whose two fore-legs "appeared to be broken. Before this fox "the eagle laid part of a kid, which she "had brought in her talons, and then dis"appeared. When I awaked, I laid my "forehead upon the ground, and blessed "the Prophet for the instruction of the "morning. I reviewed my dream, and "said thus to myself: Cosrou, thou hast "done well to renounce the tumult, the "business and vanities of life: but thou "hast as yet only done it in part: thou "art still every day busied in the search "of food, thy mind is not wholly at rest, "neither is thy trust in Providence com"plete. What art thou taught by this vision? If thou hast seen an eagle com"missioned by Heaven to feed a fox that "is lame, shall not the hand of Heaven also supply thee with food; when that "which prevents thee from procuring it "for thyself, is not necessity but devotion? "I was now so confident of a miraculous supply, that I neglected to walk out for my repast, which, after the first day, I "expected with an impatience that left "me little power of attending to any other object: this impatience, however, I la"boured to suppress, and persisted in my "resolution; but my eyes at length began "to fail me, and my knees smote each "other; I threw myself backward, and "hoped my weakness would soon increase "to insensibility. But I was suddenly "roused by the voice of an invisible being, "who pronounced these words: Cosrou, I am the angel, who by the command of the Almighty have registered the thoughts of thy heart, which I am now commissioned to reprove. While thou wast attempting to become wise above that which is revealed, thy folly has perverted the instruction which was vouchsafed thee. Art thou disabled as the Fox? hast thou not rather the powers of the Eagle? Arise, let the Eagle be the object of thy emulation. To pain and sickness, be thou again the messenger of case and health. Virtue is not rest, but action. If thou dost good to man as an evidence of thy love to God, thy virtue will be exalted from moral to divine; and that happiness which is the pledge of Paradise, will be thy reward upon earth.' "At these words I was not less asto"nished than if a mountain had been "overturned at my fect. I humbled my"self in the dust; I returned to the city; "I dug up my treasure; I was liberal, yet I "became rich. My skill in restoring health "to the body gave me frequent opportu "nities of curing the diseases of the soul. "I put on the sacred vestments; I grew "eminent beyond my merit; and it was "the pleasure of the king that I should "stand before him. Now, therefore, be "not offended; I boast of no knowledge "that I have not received: As the sands "of the desert drink up the drops of rain, "or the dew of the morning, so do I also, "who am but dust, imbibe the instruc❝tions of the Prophet. Believe then that "it is he who tells thee, all knowledge "is profane, which terminates in thy"self; and by a life wasted in specula❝tion, little even of this can be gained. "When the gates of Paradise are thrown "open before thee, thy mind shall be ir"radiated in a moment; here thou canst « little more than pile error upon error; "there thou shalt build truth upon truth. "Wait, therefore, for the glorious vision; "and in the mean time emulate the Eagle. "Much is in thy power; and, therefore, "much is expected of thee. Though "the ALMIGHTY only can give virtue, " yet, as a prince, thou may'st stimulate "those to beneficence, who act from no "higher higher motive than immediate interest: "thou canst not produce the principle, "but may'st enforce the practice. The re"lief of the poor is equal, whether they "receive it from ostentation, or charity; "and the effect of example is the same, "whether it be intended to obtain the favour of God or man. Let thy virtue "be thus diffused; and if thou believest "with reverence, thou shalt be accepted "above. Farewell. May the smile of "Him who resides in the Heaven of Hea"vens be upon thee! and against thy “name, in the volume of His will, may "Happiness be written !" The king, whose doubts, like those of Mirza, were now removed, looked up with a smile that communicated the joy of his mind. He dismissed the prince to his government; and commanded these events to be recorded, to the end that posterity may know "that no life is pleasing to God, but that which is useful to Mankind." Adventurer. § 25. Providence proved from Animal Instinct. I must confess I am infinitely delighted with those speculations of nature which are to be made in a country life; and as my reading has very much lain among books of natural history, I cannot forbear recollecting, upon this occasion, the several remarks which I have met with in authors, and comparing them with what falls under my own observation; the arguments for Providence, drawn from the natural history of animals, being, in my opinion, demonstrative. The make of every kind of animal is different from that of every other kind; and yet there is not the least turn in the muscles or twist in the fibres of any one, which does not render them more proper for that particular animal's way of life, than any other cast or texture of them would have been. The most violent appetites in all creatures are lust and hunger: the first is a perpetual call upon them to propagate their kind; the latter to preserve themselves. It is astonishing to consider the different degrees of care that descend from the parent of the young, so far as is absolutely necessary for the leaving a posterity. Some creatures cast their eggs as chance directs them, and think of them no farther, as insects, and several kind of fish ; others, of a sicer frame, find out proper beds to deposit them in, and there leave them, as the serpent, the crocodile, and ostrich: others hatch their eggs and tend the birth, until it is able to shift for itself. What can we call the principle which directs every different kind of bird to observe a particular plan in the structure of its nest, and directs all of the same species to work after the same model? It cannot be imitation; for though you hatch a crow under a hen, and never let it see any of the works of its own kind, the nest it makes shall be the same, to the laying of a stick, with all the nests of the same species. cannot be reason; for were animals endued with it to as great a degree as a man, their buildings would be as different as ours, according to the different conveniencies that they would propose to themselves. It Is it not remarkable, that the same temper of weather which raises this general warmth in animals, should cover the trees with leaves, and the fields with grass, for their security and concealment, and produce such infinite swarms of insects for the support and sustenance of their respective broods? Is it not wonderful, that the love of the parent should be so violent while it lasts, and that it should last no longer than is necessary for the preservation of the young? The violence of this natural love is exemplified by a very barbarous experiment; which I shall quote at length, as I find it in an excellent author, and hope my readers will pardon the mentioning such an instance of cruelty, because there is nothing can so effectually shew the strength of that principle in animals of which I am here speaking. "A person, who was well skilled in dissections, opened a bitch, and "as she lay in the most exquisite torture, "offered her one of her young puppies, "which she immediately fell a licking; and "for the time seemed insensible of her "pain on the removal she kept her eye "fixed on it, and began a wailing sort of 66 cry, which seemed rather to proceed from "the loss of her young one, than the sense "of her own torments." But notwithstanding this natural love in brutes is much more violent and intense than in rational creatures, Providence has taken care that it should be no longer troublesome to the parent than it is useful to the young; for so soon as the wants of the latter cease, the mother withdraws her fondness, and leaves them to provide for themselves: and, what is a very remarkable circumstance |