self capable of. Again for a private person to take upon him to avenge an injury, (in any way besides having re course to lawful authority which is founded in the Divine) what is it less than assuming the authority of God himself, whose privilege it is to decide finally, either immediately, or by those whom he has authorised for that purpose?

Farther, let the effects of this unruly passion, carried to its utmost length, and indulged universally, be considered, that we may judge whether it be most for the good of the whole, that we conquer, or give way to it. Experience shows, that every passion and appetite indulged, would proceed to greater and greater lengths without end. Suppose then every man to lay the reins upon the neck of his fury, and give himself up to be driven by it without controul into all manner of madness and extravagance: The obvious consequence must be the destruction of the weaker by the stronger, till the world became a desert.

Whatever is right for one man to practice, is equally right for all, unless circumstances make a difference. If it be proper that one man indulge anger without a cause, no circumstance can make it improper that all do so. If it be proper that one man suffer his passion to hurry him on to abuse, or destroy an innocent person, it is proper that all do so, and that the world be made one vast scene of blood and desolation,

People ought to be very careful in the younger part of life, not to give way to passion; for all habits strengthen with years. And he, who in youth indulges an angry and fretful temper, by the time he comes into years, is likely to be unsufferable by his peevishness; which, though not so fatal and terrible as a furious temper, is more frequent. ly troublesome, and renders the person who gives way to it more thoroughly contemptible. The excessive strength of all our passions is owing to our neglect to curb them in time, before they become unconquerable.

When therefore you feel passion rising, instead of giving it vent in outrageous expressions, which will inflame both your own, and that of the person you are angry with, ac. custom yourself to call reflection to your assistance. Say to yourself, What is there in this affair of sufficient consequence to provoke me to expose myself? Had I not better drop the quarrel, if the offence were much more

attrocious, than be guilty of folly? If I have lost money, or honour, by this injurious person, must I lose by him my wits too? How would a Socrates, or a Phocian, have behaved on such an occasion? How did a greater thn either behave on an occasion of incomparably greater provocation, while he had it in his power to have struck his enemies dead with a word? True greatness appears in restraining, not giving a loose to passion.

Make a resolution for one day not to be put out of temper upon any account. If you can keep it one day, you may two; and so on. To keep you in mind of your resolution, you may wear a ring upon a particular finger, or use any other such contrivance. You may ac custom yourself never to say any thing peevish, without thinking it over as long as you could count six deliberately. After you have habituated yourself for some time to this practice, you will find it as unnatural to blunder out rash speeches, as you do now to deliberate before you speak.

Envy and malice are rather corruptions of natural passions, than the natural growth of the human heart. For the very least degree of them is wicked and unnatural as well as the greatest. Emulation, out of which arises envy, is one of the noblest exertions of a rational mind. To aspire to equal whatever is truly great in a fellow-creature, what can show more conspicuously true greatness of mind? What worthy mind was ever without this disposition? But to look with an evil eye upon, or to hate that excellence in another, which we cannot, or will not emulate, is the very disposition of an evil spirit: for it is hating a person for the very thing which ought to excite love and admiration.

Some of the other excesses we are apt to run into in indulging our passions have to plead for themselves, that the exertion of those passions is attended with a sensible pleasure. But anger, hatred, malice, envy, revenge, and all the irascible passions, the more strongly they operate, the greater the torment they produce. And it must be an extraordinary degree of virulence in a mind, that makes it choose to torture itself for the sake of exerting its spite against another. Which spite also, through the goodness of an over-ruling Providence, instead of hurting the

person attacked, most commonly recoils in vengeance upon him who has indulged in himself so devilish a tem

per.

The natural inclination we have to sympathise with our fellow-creatures, to make their case our own, and to suffer a sensible pain when we think of their misery or misfortune, was placed in us to draw us more effectually than reason alone would, to endeavour to relieve them. It is therefore evident, that this motion of the mind ought to be encouraged and strengthened in us, because we cannot be too much attached to our fellow-creatures, at the same time that we ought to act chiefly upon rational motives in endeavouring to relieve the distresses of our brethren of mankind.

Fear is a natural passion of the mind, and ought no more to be eradicated than any of the others. A reasonable caution against, and desire of avoiding whatever would prove in any degree hurtful, is the prudent motion of every rational created mind. The conduct of this passion con. sists in directing our fear, or caution, to proper objects. To fear poverty, or pain, or death, more than guilt; to dread the misery of an hour, or of a life, more than a future punishment for ages, is fearing a lesser evil more than a greater, choosing an extreme degree of misery for the sake of avoiding an inconsiderable one.

Though a dastardly spirit is, generally speaking, a proof of baseness of mind, it does not therefore follow, that to dare to attempt any thing, however unreasonable or unjust, is true fortitude. A bully, a drunkard, or a lunatic, will attack what a wise man will avoid encountering with. For the natural or adventitious vivacity of temper in such persons, which is owing to bodily constitution, or intoxication by liquor, or to a preternatural flow of spirits hurrying them on, and reason being in them very weak, or altogether insufficient for restraining their impetuosity, it is no wonder if they run into the most extravagant and dangerous adventures, nor if they sometimes carry all before them. For the very notion that a person, or body of men, are resolute to a desperate degree, renders them much more formidable to a people who have not, or per haps cannot work themselves up to the same pitch. True courage is cool and deliberate, founded in a strong attach

ment to justice, truth, love of one's country, and of true glory; and is regulated and restrained by wisdom and goodness. True fortitude appears infinitely more glorious in the faithful martyr, who subdued by want and imprisonment, goes on without fear, but without pride, friendless and alone, and in the midst of the insulting crowd gives up his body to the devouring flames in honour of God and his truth, than in the blustering commander at the head of his thousands, who marches to battle, and, in confidence of the might of his arm already assures himself of victory; and yet the latter is immortilized by the venal strain of flattery, while the former is passed over in silence.

The loss of some good which we have either enjoyed or had reasonable hopes of attaining, or the arrival of some positive evil, is a reasonable subject of reasonable grief; and the concern of mind ought to be proportioned to the greatness of the loss, or the severity of the calamity which is come upon us. As for the afflictions of this present life, such as the loss of riches, of health, of the favor of the great, of the good opinion of our fellow-creatures, of friends or relations, by removal to distant places, or by death; these, and the like, being all temporary, we show our wisdom most by bearing them with patience, or even most of them with indifference, in consideration of the prospect we have, if we be virtuous, of having all such losses made up to us hereafter; of being hereafter possessed of the true and unfading riches; of having the integrity of our characters cleared before men and angels; of being restored to our valuable friends and relations, and united to them in a better and happier state, where they and we shall be fitter for true and exalted friendship, and where we shall no more fear a cruel separation.

There is but one just subject of great or lasting grief that I know of; it is the consideration of our guilt before God. That we ourselves, or others, should ever have offended the kindest and best of beings, whom we were, by all the ties of nature and reason, obliged to love, to obey, and to adore; this is a grief that will lie heavy upon every considerate mind: And till that happy day comes, when all tears are to be wiped away, and all griefs buried in oblivion, the thought of our own guilt, and that of our un

happy unthinking fellow-creatures, ought not for a long time to be out of our view. Nor there any degree of concern (inferior to what might disqualify us for the performance of the duties of life) too great for the occasion. Nor can any thing be imagined more absurd, than for a reasoning being to express more uneasiness about a trifling loss of affliction, which, like all temporal distresses, will, after a few years be to us, as if they had never been; at the same time that the consideration of those offences against the Majesty of heaven, which may have fatal ef fects upon their final state, raises no uneasiness in their minds. That a thinking creature (or rather a creature capable of thought) should fret for the loss of a mortal friend or relation, whom we always knew to be mortal, and be under no concern for his having alienated from himself by his wickedness, the favour of the most powerful, the most faithful, and the kindest friend. That a rational creature should bitterly lament the lost patronage of a prince, or peer, whose favour he knew to be uncertain and precarious, and give himself no trouble about his having forfeited the protection of Him, upon whom he depends for every moment's existence, and every degree of happiness he can enjoy in the present life, and through all eternity! Surely such grief is indulged with great impropriety!

While we live in the body, it is plainly necessary, that we bestow a reasonable attention upon the body, for provid ing whatever may be useful for its health and support. To think of eradicating, or destroying the appetites, would be making sure of the destruction of the body. The point we ought to have in view is, therefore, to conduct and regulate them so, as best to answer the wise ends, for which they were planted in our nature.

That every living creature should have in its make a strong desire to preserve life, was necessary. But in rational minds all natural instincts are to be under the controul of reason; the superior faculty to govern the inferior. It is evident, that there may be many cases, in which rectitude and propriety may require us to get over the instinctive love of life, as well as to conquer the influence of the other natural passions. Whoever loves life more than virtue, religion, or his country, is guilty of a gross absurd