fouls, when they are difembodied, or placed in glorified bodies, will by this faculty, in whatever part of fpace they refide, be always fenfible of the divine prefence. We, who have this veil of flesh ftanding between us and the world of fpirits, must be content to know the fpirit of God is present with us by the effects which he produceth in us. Our outward fenfes are too grofs to apprehend him; we may however talte and fee how gracious he is, by his influence upon our minds, by thofe virtuous thoughts which he awakens in us, by thofe fecret comforts and refreshments which he conveys into our fouls, and by those ravishing joys and inward fatisfactions which are perpetually fpringing up, and diffufing themselves among all the thoughts of good men. He is lodged in our very effence, and is as a foul within the foul, to irradiate its understanding, rectify its will, purify its paffions, and enliven all the powers of man. How happy therefore is an intellectual being, who by prayer and meditation, by virtue and good works, opens this communication between God and his own foul! Though the whole creation frowns upon him, and all nature looks black about him, he has his light and fupport within him, that are able to cheer his mind, and bear him up in the midft of all thofe horrors which encompass him. He knows that his helper is at hand, and is always nearer to him than any thing elfe can be, which is capable of annoying or terrifying him. In the midft of calumny or contempt, he attends to that Being who whispers better things within his foul, and whom he looks upon as his defender, his glory, and the lifter-up of his head. In his deepeft folitude and retirement, he knows that he is in company with the greateft of beings; and perceives within himself fuch real fenfations | of his prefence, as are more delightful than any thing that can be met with in the converfation of his creatures. Even in the hour of death, he confiders the pains of his diffolution to be nothing elfe but the breaking down of that partition, which stands betwixt his foul, and the fight of that being who is always prefent with him, and is about to manifest itself to him in fulness of joy. If we would be thus happy, and thus fenfible of our Maker's prefence, from the fecret effects of his mercy and goodness, we must keep fuch a watch over all our thoughts, that in the language of the scripture, his foul may have pleasure in us. We must take care not to grieve his holy fpirit, and endeavour to make the meditations of our hearts always acceptable in his fight, that he may delight thus to refide and dwell in us. The light of nature could direct Seneca to this doctrine, in a very remarkable paffage among his epiftles: Sacer incest in nobis fpiritus, bonorum malorumque cuftos et obfervator; et quemadmodum nos illum tra&amus, ita et ille nos. There is a holy fpirit refiding in us, who watches and obferves both good and evil men, and will treat us after the fame manner that we treat him.' But I fhall conclude this difcourfe with those more emphatical words in divine revelation; If a man love me, he will keep my words; and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.' Spectator. fecret joys that can arife in the heart of a reasonable creature. I confidered those feveral proofs drawn, Firft, from the nature of the foul itself, and particularly its immateriality; which, though not abfolutely neceffary to the eternity of its duration, has, I think, been evinced to almoft a demonftration. Secondly, from its paffions and fentiments, as particularly from its love of existence, its terror of annihilation, and its hopes of immortality, with that fecret fatisfaction which it finds in the practice of virtue, and that uneafinefs which follows in it upon the commiffion of vice. Thirdly, from the nature of the Supreme Being, whofe juftice, goodness, wisdom, and veracity, are all concerned in this point. drop at once into a state of annihilation. But can we believe a thinking being, that is in a perpetual progrefs of improvements, and travelling on from perfection to perfection, after having juft looked abroad into the works of its Creator, and made a few discoveries of his infinite goodness, wisdom, and power, must perish at her first fetting out, and in the very beginning of her enquiries? A man, confidered in his prefent state, feems only fent into the world to propagate his kind. He provides himfelf with a fucceffor, and immediately quits his post to make room for him. -Hæres Hæredem alterius, velut unda fupervenit undam. -Heir crowds heir, as in a rolling flood But among these and other excellent arguments for the immortality of the foul, there is one drawn from the perpetual progrefs of He doth not feem born to enjoy life, but the foul to its perfection, without a poffibili- to deliver it down to others. This is not ty of ever arriving at it; which is a hint that furprifing to confider in animals, which are Í do not remember to have feen opened and formed for our use, and can finish their bufiimproved by others who have written on this nefs in a fhort life. The filk-worm, after fubject, though it feems to me to carry a very having fpun her task, lays her eggs and dies. great weight with it. How can it enter into But a man can never have taken in his full the thoughts of man, that the foul, which is measure of knowledge, has not time to fubdue capable of fuch iminense perfections, and of his paffions, eftablish his foul in virtue, and receiving new improvements to all eternity, come up to the perfection of his nature, thall fall away into nothing almost as foon as before he is hurried off the ftage. Would an it is created? Are fuch abilities made for no infinitely wife being make fuch glorious crcapurpofe? A brute arrives at a point of per-tures for fo mean a purpofe? Can he delight fection that he can never pafs: in a few years he has all the endowments he is capable of; and were he to live ten thousand more, would be the fame thing he is at prefent. Were a human foul thus at a ftand in her accomplishments, were her faculties to be full blown, and incapable of farther enlargements, I could imagine it might fall away infenfibly, and in the production of fuch abortive intelligences, fuch fhort-lived reasonable beings? Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted? capacities that are never to be gratified? How can we find that wisdom which fhines through all his works, in the formation of man, without looking on this world as only a nursery for the next, and beB 5 lievin lieving that the feveral generations of rational creatures, which rife up and disappear in fuch quick fucceffions, are only to receive their first rudiments of existence here, and afterwards to be transplanted into a more friendly climate, where they may spread and flourish to all eternity? to it, and fhine forth in the fame degree of glory. With what aftonishment and veneration may we look into our own fouls, where there are fuch hidden ftores of virtue and knowledge, fuch inexhaufted fources of perfection! We know not yet what we shall be, nor will it ever enter into the heart of man to conceive the glory that will be always in referve for him. The foul, confidered with its Creator, is like one of those mathematical lines that may draw nearer to another for all eternity without a poffibility of touching it: and can there be a thought fo tranfporting as to confider ourselves in these perpetual approaches to him, who is not only the standard of perfection, but of happiness! Spectator. There is not, in my opinion, a more pleafing and triumphant confideration in religion, than this of the perpetual progrefs which the foul makes towards the perfection of its nature, without ever arriving at a period in it. To look upon the foul as going on from strength to strength, to confider that The is to fhine for ever with new acceffions of glory, and brighten to all eternity; that the will ftill be adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge; carries in it fomething wonderfully agreeable to that ambition which § is natural to the mind of man. Nay, it must be a profpect pleafing to God himself, to fee his creation for ever beautifying in his eyes, and drawing nearer to him, by greater degrees of refemblance. Methinks this fingle confideration, of the progrefs of a finite fpirit to perfection, will be fufficient to extinguifh all envy in inferior natures, and all contempt in fuperior. That cherubim, which now appears as a God to a human foul, knows very well that the period will come about in eternity, when the human foul fhall be as perfect as he himself now is: nay, when the fhall look down upon that degree of perfection as much as the now falls fhort of it. It is true, the higher nature ftill advances, and by that means preferves his diftance and fuperiority in the fcale of being; but he knows that, how high foever the ftation is of which he ftands poffeffed at prefent, the inferior nature will at length mount up 5. The Duty of Children to their Parents I am the happy father of a very towardly fon, in whom I do not only fee my life, but alfo my manner of life renewed. It would be extremely beneficial to fociety, if you would frequently refume fubjects which ferve to bind thefe fort of relations fafter, and endear the ties of blood with those of good-will, protection, obfervance, indulgence, and ve neration. I would, methinks, have this done after an uncommon method; and do not think any one, who is not capable of writing a good play, fit to undertake a work wherein there will neceffarily occur fo many fecret inftincts and biaffes of human nature, which would pafs unobferved by common eyes. I thank Heaven I have no outrages offence against my own excellent parents to anfwer for; but when I am now and then alone, and look back upon my paft life, from my earlieft infancy to this time, there are many faults which I committed that did not appear to me, even until I myself became a father. I had cult a task in the father; and deference, not until then a notion of the yearnings of amidft the impulfe of gay defires, appears unheart, which a man has when he fees his reasonable to the fon. There are fo few who child do a laudable thing, or the fudden damp can grow old with a good grace, and yet which feizes him when he fears he will act fewer who can come flow enough into the fomething unworthy. It is not to be ima- world, that a father, were he to be actuated gined what a remorfe touched me for a long by his defires, and a fon, were he to confult train of childish negligences of my mother, himfelf only, could neither of them behave when I faw my wife the other day look out himself as he ought to the other. But when of the window, and turn as pale as afhes reafon interpofes against inftinct, where it upon fecing my younger boy fliding upon the would carry either out of the interefts of the ice. Thefe flight intimations will give you other, there arifes that happiest intercourse of to understand, that there are numberlefs little good offices between thofe deareft relations of crimes, which children take no notice of human life. The father, according to the while they are doing, which, upon reflection, opportunities which are offered to him, is when they fhall themfelves become fathers, throwing down bleffings on the fon, and the they will look upon with the utmost forrow fon endeavouring to appear the worthy offand contrition, that they did not regard, be- fpring of fuch a father. It is after this manfore those whom they offended were to be no ner that Camillus and his first-born dwell tomore feen. How many thousands things do I gether. Camillus enjoys a pleasing and indoremember, which would have highly pleafed lent old age,inwhich paffion is fubdued and reamy father, and I omitted for no other reafon fon exalted. He waits the day of his diffolubut that I thought what he propofed the tion with a refignation mixed with delight,and effect of humour and old age, which I am the fon fears the acceffion of his father's fortune now convinced had reafon and good fenfe in with diffidence, left he should not enjoy or beit! I cannot now go into the parlour to him, come it as well as his predeceffor. Add to and make his heart glad with an account of a this, that the father knows he leaves a matter which was of no confequence, but friend to the children of his friends, an caly that I told it and acted in it. The good landlord to his tenants, and an agreeable comman and woman are long fince in their panion to his acquaintance. He believes his graves, who ufed to fit and plot the welfare fon's behaviour will make him frequently reof us their children, while, perhaps, we were membered, but never wanted. This comfometimes laughing at the old folks at an- merce is fo well cemented, that without the other end of the houfe. The truth of it is, pomp of faying, Son, be a friend to fuch a were we merely to follow nature in thefe one when I am gone; Camillus knows, begreat duties of life, though we have a strong ing in his favour is direction enough to the intinet towards the performing of them, we grateful youth who is to fucceed him, without fhould be on both fides very deficient. Age the admonition of his mentioning it. Thefe is fo unwelcome to the generality of mankind, gentlemen are honoured in all their neighand growth towards manhood fo defirable bourhood, and the fame effect which the court to all, that refignation to decay is too diffi-es on the manners of a kingdom, their cha B 6 racters racters have on all who live within the in- | long and tedious. We are for lengthening fluence of them. My fon and I are not of fortune to communicate our good actions or intentions to fo many as thefe gentlemen do; but I will be bold to fay, my fon has, by the applause and approbation which his behaviour towards me has gained him, occafioned that many an old man, befides myfelf, has rejoiced. Other men's children follow the example of mine; and I have the inexpreffible happiness of overhearing our neighbours, as we ride by, point to their children, and fay, with a voice of joy, "There they go." Spectator. § 6. The Importance of Time, and the proper Methods of pending it. We all of us complain of the shortnefs of time, faith Seneca, and yet have much more than we know what to do with. Our lives, fays he, are spent either in doing nothing at all, or d ing nothing to the purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do. We are always complaining our days are few, and acting as though there would be no end of them. That noble philofopher has defcribed our inconfiftency with ourselves in this particular by all thofe various turns of expreflion and thought which are peculiar in his writings. I often confider mankind as wholly inconfiftent with itself, in a point that bears fome affinity to the former. Though we feem grieved at the fhortnefs of life in general, we are withing every period of it at an end. The minor longs to be at age, then to be a man of bufinefs, then to make up an eftate, then to arrive at honours, then to retire. Thus, although the whole of life is allowed by every one to be short, the feveral divifions of it appear our fpan in general, but would fain contract the parts of which it is compofed. The ufurer would be very well fatisfied to have all the time annihilated that lies between the prefent moment and the next quarter-day. The po litician would be contented to loofe three years in his life, could he place things in the pofture which he fancies they will ftand in after fuch a revolution of time. The lover would be glad to strike out of his existence all the moments that are to pafs away before the happy meeting. Thus, as fast as our time runs, we fhould be very glad, in moft parts of our lives, that it ran much fafter than it does. Several hours of the day hang upon our hands; nay, we wish away whole years, and travel through time, as through a country filled with many wild and empty waftes which we would fain hurry over, that we may arrive at those feveral little fettlements or imaginary points of reft which are difperfed up and down in it. Ifwe divide the life of most men into twenty parts, we thall find that at least nineteen of them are mere gaps and chasms, which are neither filled with pleasure nor business. I do not however include in this calculation the life of thofe men who are in a perpetuał hurry of affairs, but of thofe only who are not always engaged in fcenes of actions; and I hope I fhall not do an unacceptable piece of service to thefe perfons, if I point out to them certain methods for the filling up their cmpty spaces of life. The methods I shall propofe to them are as follow: The first is the exercife of virtue, in the moft general acceptation of the word. That particular scheme which comprehends the focial virtues, may give employment to the most induftrious temper, and find a man bufinefs more than the moft active ftation of life. |