that kind of life, or series of action, in which the choice of others, or his own necefsities, may have engaged him. It may perhaps be very disagreeable to him, at firft; but use and application will certainly render it not only lefs painful, but pleafing and fatisfactory.

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In the fecond place, I would recommend to every one, the admirable precept, which Pythagoras is faid to have given to his difciples, and which that philofopher muft have drawn from the obfervation I have enlarged upon: Pitch upon that courfe of life which is the most excellent, and cuftom will render it the most delightful." Men, whofe circumftances will permit them to choose their own way of life, are inexcufable if they do not pursue that which their judgment tells them is the moft laudable. The voice of reafon is more to be regarded, than the bent of any present inclination; fince, by the rule above mentioned, inclination will at length come over to reafon, though we can never force reafon to comply with inclination.

In the third place, this obfervation may teach the moft fenfual and irreligious man, to overlook those hardfhips and difficulties, which are apt to difcourage him from the prosecution of a virtuous life. "The Gods," faid Hefiod, "have placed labour before virtue; the way to her is at firft rough and difficult, but grows more smooth and eafy the farther we advance in it.” The man who proceeds in it with fteadinefs and refolution, will, in a little time, find that "her ways are ways of pleasantnefs, and that all her paths are peace."

To enforce this confideration, we may further obferve, that the practice of religion will not only be

attended with that pleasure, which naturally accompa nies those actions to which we are habituated, but with those fupernumerary joys of heart, that rife from the consciousness of such a pleasure; from the fatisfaction of acting up to the dictates of reafon; and from the profpect of a happy immortality.

In the fourth place, we may learn from this obferva tion, which we have made on the mind of man, to take particular care, when we are once fettled in a regular course of life, how we too frequently indulge ourselves in even the most innocent diverfions and entertainments; fince the mind may insensibly fall off from the relish of virtuous actions, and, by degrees, exchange that pleafure which it takes in the performance of its duty, for delights of a much inferior and an unprofitable

nature.

The laft ufe which I fall make of this remarkable property in human nature, of being delighted with thofe actions to which it is accustomed, is, to show how abfolutely necefsary it is for us to gain habits of virtue in this life, if we would enjoy the pleasures of the next. The ftate of blifs, we call Heaven, will not be capable of affecting thofe minds which are not thus qualified for it: we muft in this world, gain a relish of truth and virtue, if we would be able to taste that knowledge and perfection, which are to make us happy in the next. The feeds of those spiritual joys and raptures, which are to rife up and flourish in the foul to all eternity, must be planted in it during this its present state of probation. In fhort, heaven is not to be looked upon only as the reward, but as the natural effect, of a religious life.

ADDISON.

SECTION XVI.

The Pleafures refulting from a proper Ufe of our Faculties.

HAPPY that man, who, unembarrassed by vulgar cares, master of himself, his time, and fortune, fpends his time in making himself wifer; and his fortune, in making others (and therefore himself) happier: who, as the will and understanding are the two ennobling faculties of the foul, thinks himself not complete, till his understanding is beautified with the valuable furniture of knowledge, as well as his will enriched with every virtue: who has furnished himself with all the advantages to relish folitude and enliven conversation ; who when ferious, is not fullen; and when cheerful, not indifcreetly gay; whofe ambition is, not to be admired for a falfe glare of greatnefs, but to be beloved for the gentle and fober luftre of his wifdom and goodnefs. The greatest minister of state has not more bufinefs to do, in a public capacity, than he, and indeed every other man, may find, in the retired and ftill fcenes of life. Even in his private walks, every thing that is vifible convinces him there is present a Being invifible. Aided by natural philofophy, he reads plain legible traces of the Divinity in every thing he meets: he fees the Deity in every tree, as well as Mofes did in the burning bufh, though not in fo glaring a manner and when he fees him, he adores him with the tribute of a grateful heart.

SEED.

SECTION XVII.

Defcription of Candour.

TRUE candour is altogether different from that guarded, inoffenfive language, and that ftudied opennefs of behaviour, which we fo frequently meet with among men of the world. Smiling, very often, is the afpect, and fmooth are the words, of thofe who inwardly are the most ready to think evil of others. That candour which is a Chriftian virtue, confifts, not in fairness of fpeech, but in fairnefs of heart. It may want the blandifliment of external courtesy, but fupplies its place with humane and generous liberality of fentiment. Its manners are unaffected, and its profefsions cordial. Exempt, on one hand, from the dark jealoufy of a fufpicious mind, it is no lefs removed, on the other, from that eafy credulity which is imposed on by every specious pretence. It is perfectly confiftent with extensive knowledge of the world, and with due attention to our own fafety. In that various intercourse, which we are obliged to carry on with perfons of every different character, fufpicion, to a certain degree, is a necefsary guard. It is only when it exceeds the bounds of prudent caution, that it degenerates into vice. There is a proper mean between undiftinguishing credulity, and univerfal jealoufy, which a found understanding difcerns, and which the man of candour ftudies to preferve.

He makes allowance for the mixture of evil with good, which is to be found in every human character. He expects none to be faultlefs; and he is unwilling

to believe that there is any without some commendable quality. In the midft of many defects, he can difcover a virtue. Under the influence of perfonal refentment, he can be juft to the merit of an enemy. He never lends an open ear to thofe defamatory reports and dark fuggeftions, which, among the tribes of the cenforious, circulate with fo much rapidity, and meet with fuch ready acceptance. He is not hafty to judge, and he requires full evidence before he will condemn As long as an action can be afcribed to different motives, he holds it as no mark of fagacity to impute it always to the worft. Where there is just ground for doubt, he keeps his judgment undecided; and, during the period of fufpenfe, leans to the most charitable conftruction which an action can bear. When he must condemn, he condemns with regret; and without those aggravations which the feverity of others adds to the crime. He liftens calmly to the apology of the offender, and readily admits every extenuating circumftance which equity can fuggeft. How much foever he may blame the principles of any fect or party, he never confounds, under one general cenfure, all who belong to that party or fect. He charges them not with fuch confequences of their tenets, as they refufe and difavow. From one wrong opinion, he does not infer the fubverfion of all found principles; nor from one bad action, conclude that all regard to confcience is overthrown. When he "beholds the mote in his brother's eye," he remembers "the beam in his own." He commiferates human frailty; and judges of others according to the principles, by which he would think it reasonable that they fhould judge of him. In a word, he views men and actions in the clear funfhine

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