that their lofs would scarcely leave a blank in the immenfity of God's works. If then, not our globe only, but this whole fystem, be fo very diminutive, what is a kingdom or a country? What are a few lordfhips or the fo much admired patrimonies of those who are ftyled wealthy? When I measure them with my own little pittance, they fwell into proud and bloated dimenfions: but when I take the universe for my ftandard, how fcanty is their fize, how contemptible their figure! They trink into pompous nothings. SECTION XV. ADDISON. On the Power of Custom, and the uses to which it may be applied THERE is not a common faying, which has a better turn of fenfe in it, than what we often hear in the mouths of the vulgar, that "Custom is a fecond nature." It is indeed able to form the man anew; and give him inclinations and capacities altogether different from those he was born with. A perfon who is addicted to play or gaming, though he took but little delight in it at firft, by degrees contracts fo ftrong an inclination towards it, and gives himfelf up fo entirely to it, that it feems the only end of his being. The love of a retired or bufy life will grow upon a man infenfibly, as he is converfant in the one or the other, till he is utterly unqualified for relifhing that to which he has been for fome time difufed. 3 Nay, a man may smoke, or drink, or take fnuff, till he is unable to pafs away his time without it; not to mention how our delight in any particular ftudy, art or fcience, rifes and improves, in proportion to the application which we bestow upon it. Thus, what was at first an exercise, becomes at length an entertainment. Our employments are changed into diverfions. The mind grows fond of thofe actions it is accuftomed to; and it is drawn with reluctancy from those paths. in which it has been used to walk. it 4 If we attentively confider this property of human nature, may instruct us in very fine moralities. In the firft place, I would have no man difcouraged with that kind of life, or feries of action, in which the choice of others, or his own neceflities, may have engaged him. It may perhaps be very difagreeable to him, at first; but use and application will certainly render it not only less painful, but pleasing and satisfactory. In the second place, I would recommend to every one, the admirable precept, which Pythagoras is faid to have given to his difciples, and which that philofopher must have drawn from the obfervation I have enlarged upon: "Pitch upon that course of life which is the most excellent, and cuftom will render it the moft 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 prefent 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 most fenfual and irreligious man, to overlook thofe hardships and difficulties, which are apt to difcorage him from the profecution 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 fteadiness and refolution, will, in a little time, find that her " ways of pleasantness, and that all her paths are peace.' ways are To enforce this confideration, we may further obferve, that the practice of religion will not only be attended with that pleasure which naturally accompanies thofe actions to which we are habituated, but with thofe fupernumerary joys of heart, that rife from the confcioufnefs of fuch 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 obfervation, which we have made on the mind of man, to take particular care, when we are once fettled in a regular courfe of life, how we too frequently indulge ourselves in even the most innocent diverfions and entertainments ; fince the mind may infenfibly fall off from the relish of virtuous actions, and by degrees, exchange that pleasure which it takes in the performance of its duty, for delights of a much inferior and an unprofitable nature. The laft ufe which I fhall make of this remarkable property in human nature, of being delighted with thofe actions to which it is accustomed, is, to fhow how abfolutely neceffary 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 tafte that knowledge and perfection, which are to make us happy in the next. The feeds of thofe fpiritual joys and raptures, which are to rife up and flourish in the foul to all eternity, muft be.planted in it during this its prefent ftate of probation. In fhort, heaven is not to be looked upon only as the reward, but as the natural effect of a religious life. SECTION XVI. ADDISON. The Pleasures resulting from a proper Use of our Faculties. HAPPY that man, who, unembarraffed by vulgar cares, master of himfeli, his time, and fortune, spends his time in making himfelf wifer; and his fortune, in making others, (and therefore himfelf) happier; who, as the will and underftanding are the two ennobling faculties of the foul, thinks himfelf 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 himfelf with all the advantages to relifh folitude and enliven conversation; who when ferious, is not fullen; and when cheerful, not inifcreetly gay; whofe ambition is, not to be admired for a Falfe glare of greatnefs, but to be beloved for the gentle and ober luftre of his wifdom and goodness. The greatest minister of state has not more business to do, in a public capacity, than he, and indeed every other man, may ind, 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 bush, though not in fo glaring a manner : and when he fees im, he adores him with the tribute of a grateful heart. SEED. SECTION XVII. Description of Candour. TRUE candour is altogether different from that guarded, inoffenfive language, and that ftudied openness 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 those who inwardly are the most ready to think evil of others. That candour, which is a Chriftian virtue, confifts, not in fairnefs of fpeech, but in fairness of heart. It may want the blandifhment of external courtesy, but fupplies its place with humane and generous liberality, of fentiment. Its manners are unaffected, and its profeflions cordial. Exempt, on one hand, from the dark jealousy of a fufpicious mind, it is no lefs removed, on the other, from that eafy credulity which is impofed on by every fpecious 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 neceffary 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 fome 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 ene my. 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 worst. Where there is juft 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 thofe aggravations which the feverity of others adds to the crime. He liftens calmly to the apology of the offender, and readily adinits every extenuating circumftance, which equity can fug で geft. 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 refuse 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 funshine of charity and good nature; and not in that dark and fullen fhade which jealousy and party spirit throw over all characters.. SECTION XVIIL BLAIR. On the Imperfection of that Happiness which rests solely on THE vanity of human pleasures is a topic which might be embellished with the pomp of much defcription. But I fhall ftudiously avoid exaggeration, and only point out a threefold vanity in human life, which every impartial obferver cannot but admit; difappointment in purfuit, diffatisfaction in enjoyment, uncertainty in poffeffion. Firft, difappointment in purfuit. When we look around us on the world, we every where behold a bufy multitude, intent on the profecution of various defigns, which their wants or defires have fuggefted. We behold them employing every method which ingenuity can devife: fome the patience of induftry, fome the boldnefs of enterprife, others the dexterity of ftratagem, in order to compafs their ends. Of this inceffant ftir and activity, what is the fruit? In comparison of the crowd who have toiled in vain, how fmall is the number of the fuccefsful? Or rather where is the man who will declare, that in every point he has completed his plan, and attained his utmost with ? No extent of human abilities has been able to discover a path which, in any line of life, leads unerr ingly to fuccefs. "The race is not always to the fwift, nor the battle to the strong, nor riches to men of understanding.' We may form our plans with the moft profound fagacity, and |