fund within himself whence to draw enjoyment, his only re fource is in things without. His hopes and fears all hang the world. He partakes in all its viciffitudes; and is moved and fhaken by every wind of fortune. This is to be, in the ftricteft fenfe, a flave to the world.

upon

One

-Religion and virtue, on the other hand, confer on the mind principles of noble independence. "The upright man is fatisfied from himfelf." He defpifes not the advantages of fortune, but he centres not his happiness in them. With a moderate fhare of them he can be contented; and contentment is felicity. Happy in his own integrity, conscious of the esteem of good men, repofing firm trust in the providence, and the promifes of God, he is exempted from fervile dependence on other things. He can wrap himself up in a good confcience, and look forward, without terror, to the change of the world. Let all things fhift around him as they please, he believes that, by the Divine ordination, they shall be made to work together in the iffue for his good: and therefore, having much to hope from God, and little to fear from the world, he can be eafy in every ftate. who poffeffes within himfelf fuch an establishment of mind, is truly free. But fhall I call that man free, who has nothing that is his own, no property affured; whofe very heart is not his own, but rendered the appendage of external things, and the fport of fortune? Is that man free, let his outward condition be ever fo fplendid, whom his imperious paffions detain at their call, whom they fend forth at their pleasure, to drudge and toil, and to beg his only enjoyment from the cafualties of the world? Is he free, who must flatter and lie to compafs his ends; who must bear with this man's caprice, and that man's fcorn; must profess friendship where he hates, and refpect where he contemns; who is not at liberty to appear in his own colours, nor to fpeak his own fentiments; who dares not be honeft, left he should be poor? Believe it, no chains bind to hard, no fetters are fo heavy, as those which faften the corrupted heart to this treacherous world; no dependence is more contemptible than that under which the voluptuous, the covetous, or the ambitious man lies to the means of pleasure, gain, or power. Yet this is the boasted liberty, which vice promifes;

at the fame time, avoid obferving the homage, which, even in fuch inftances, the world is constrained to pay to virtue. In order to render fociety agreeable, it is found neceffary to affume fomewhat, that may at leaft carry its appearance. Virtue is the univerf charm. Even its fhadow is courted, when the fubftance is anting. The imitation of its form has been reduced into an art; and, in the commerce of life, the first study of all who would either gain the esteem, or win the hearts of others, is to learn the speech, and adopt the manners, of candour, gentlenefs, and humanity. But that gentleness which is the characteristic of a good man, has, like every other virtue, its feat in the heart; and let me add, nothing except what flows from the heart, can render even external manners truly pleafing For no affumed behaviour can at all times hide the real character. In that unaffected civility which fprings from a gentle mind, there is a charm infinitely more powerful, than in all the ftudied manners of the most finished courtier.

True gentleness is founded on a fenfe of what we owe to HIM who made us, and to the common nature of which we all fhare. It arifes from reflection on our own failings and wants; and from juft views of the condition, and the duty of man. It is a native feeling, heightened and improved by principle. It is the heart which eafily relents; which feels for every thing that is human; and is backward and flow to inflict the leaft wound. It is affable in its addrefs, and mild in its demeanour; ever ready to oblige, and willing to be obliged by others; breathing habitual kindness towards friends, courtesy to ftrangers, long fuffering to enemies. It exercifes authority with moderation; adminifters reproof with tenderness; confers favours with eafe and modefty. It is unaffuming in opinion, and temperate in zeal. It contends not eagerly but trifles; flow to contradict, and ftill flower to blame; but prompt to allay diffention, and to restore peace. It neither intermeddles unneceffarily with the affairs, nor pries inquifitively into the fecrets of others. It delights above all things to alleviate diftrefs; and, if it cannot dry up the falling tear, to footh at least the grieving heart. Where it has not the power of being useful, it is never burthenfome. It feeks to please, rather than to shine and dazzle'; and con

ceals with care that fuperiority, either of talents, or of rank, which is oppreffive to those who are beneath it. In a word it is that fpirit and that tenor of manners, which the gospel of Chrift enjoins, when it commands us "to bear one another's burthens; to rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with thofe who weep; to pleafe every one his neighbour for his good to be kind and tender hearted; to be pitiful and courteous; to fupport the weak, and to be patient towards

all men."

BLAIR.

CHAP. VI.

PATHETIC PIECES.

SECTION I.

Trial and Execution of the Earl of Strafford, who fell a facrifice to the violence of the times, in the reign of Charles the first.

THE HE Earl of Strafford defended himself against the accufations of the houfe of Commons, with all the prefence of mind, judgment, and fagacity, that could be expected from innocence and ability. His children were placed befide him, as he was thus defending his life, and the caufe of his royal master. After he had, in a long and eloquent speech, delivered without premeditation, confuted all the accufations of his enemies, he thus drew to a conclufion. "But, my Lords, I have troubled you too long: longer than I fhould have done, but for the fake of thefe dear pledges, which a faint in heaven has left me." Upon this he paufed; dropped a tear; looked upon his children; and proceeded." What I forfeit for myself is a trifle; that my indifcretions fhould reach my pofterity, wounds me to the heart. Pardon my infirmity. Something I fhould have added, but I am not able; and therefore I let it pafs. And now, my Lords, for myfell. I have long been taught, that the afflictions of this life are overpaid by that eternal weight of glory, which awaits the innocent. And fo, my Lords, even fo, with the utmost tranquility, I fubmit myfelf to your judgment, whether that judgment be life or death; not my will, but thine, O God, be done!"

équence and innocence induced thofe judges to pity, ere the most zealous to condemn him. The king himwent to the house of Lords, and spoke for fome time in his defence; but the fpirit of vengeance, which had been chained for eleven years, was now roufed; and nothing but his blood could give the people fatisfaction. He was condemned by both houfes of parliament; and nothing remained but for the king to give his confent to the bill of attainder. But in the prefent commotions, the confent of the king would very eafily be difpenfed with; and imminent danger might attend his refufal. Charles, however, who loved Strafford tenderly, hesitated, and feemed reluctant; trying every expedient to put off fo dreadful an office, as that of figning the warrant for his execution. While he

continued in this agitation of mind, and state of fufpenfe his doubts were at laft filenced by an act of great magnanimity in the condemned lord. He received a letter from that unfortunate nobleman, defiring that his life might be made a facrifice to obtain reconciliation between the king and his people: adding, that he was prepared to die; and that to a willing mind there could be no injury. This inftance of noble generofity was but ill repaid by his mafter, who complied with his requeft. He confented to fign the fatal bill by commiffion; and Strafford was beheaded on Tower-hill; behaving with all that compofed dignity of refolution, which was expected from his character.

SECTION II.

GOLDSMITH.

An eminent inftance of true fortitude of Mind.

ALL who have been distinguished as fervants of God, or benefactors of men ; all who, in perilous fituations, have acted their part with fuch honour as to render their names illuftrious through fucceeding ages, have been eminent for fortitude of mind. Of this we have one confpicuous exam-ple in the apoftle Paul, whom it will be inftructive for us to view in a remarkable occurrence of his life. After having long acted as the apoftle of the Gentiles, his miffion called him to go to Jerufalem, where he knew that he was to encounter the utmoft violence of his enemies. Juft before he fet fail, he called together the elders of his favourite church at Ephefus; and, in a pathetic fpeech, which does great

honour to his character, gave them his laft farewell. Deeply affected by their knowledge of the certain dangers to which he was expofing himself, all the affembly were filled with diftrefs, and melted into tears. The circumstances were fuch, as might have conveyed dejection ever into a refolute mind; and would have totally overwhelmed the feeble. "They all wept fore, and fell on Paul's neck, and kiffed him; forrowing most of all for the words which he spoke, that they should fee his face no more." What were then the fentiments, what was the language, of this great and good man? Hear the words which spoke his firm and undaunted mind. "Behold, I go bound in the spirit, to Jerufalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there; fave that the Holy Spirit witneffeth in every city, faying, that bonds and afflictions abide me. But none of thefe things move me; neither count I my life dear to myfelf, fo that I might finish my courfe with joy, and the miniftry which I have received of the Lord Jefus, to teftify the gofpel of the grace of God." There was uttered the voice, there breathed the fpirit of a brave and virtuous man. Such a man knows not what it is to fhrink from danger, when confcience points out his path. In that path he is determined to walk; let the confequences be what they may.

"I

This was the magnanimous behaviour of that great apoftle, when he had perfecution and diftrefs full in view. Attend now to the fentiments of the fame excellent man, when the time of his laft fuffering approached; and remark the majefty, and the eafe, with which he looked on death. am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the good fight. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness." How many years of life does fuch a dying moment overbalance? Who would not choose, in this manner, to go off the stage, with fuch a fong of triumph in his mouth, rather than prolong his existence thro' a wretched old age, ftained with fin and shame? BLAIR.

SECTION III.

The good Man's Comfort in Affliction.

THE religion of Chrift not only arms us with fortitude against the approach of evil; but, fuppofing evils to fall upon

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