He that resigns the world, is in a constant possession of a serene mind, but he who follows the pleasures of it, meets with nothing but remorse and confusion. The temperate man's pleasures are durable, because they are regular; and all his life is calm and serene, because it is innocent. How wretched is it to consider the care and cost laid out upon luxury and show, and the general neglect of those shining habits of the mind, which should set us off in real and solid excellencies. When pleasure is predominant, all virtues are of course excluded. If sensuality is pleasure, beasts are happier than men; but human felicity is lodged in the soul, not in the flesh. Would you or would you not, with pleasure live? "Tis virtue can alone the blessing give; With ardent spirit her alone pursue, And with contempt all other pleasures view. The pleasure of virtue, of charity, and of learning, is true and lasting pleasure. The man whose heart is replete with pure and unaffected piety, who looks upon the Father of nature in that just and amiable light, which all his works reflect upon him, cannot fail of tasting the sublimest pleasure, contemplating the stupendous and innumerable effects of infinite goodness. Whether he looks abroad on the natural or the moral world, his reflections must still be attended with delight; and the sense of his own unworthiness, so far from lessening, will increase his pleasure, while it places the forbearing indulgence of his Creator in a still more interesting point of view. Here his mind may dwell upon the present, look back to the past, or stretch forward into futurity with equal satisfaction and, the more he indulges contemplation, the higher will his delight arise. Such a disposition as this, seems to be the most secure foundation on which the fabric of pleasure can be built. The contemplation of the beauties of the universe, the cordial enjoyments of friendship, the tender delights of love, and the rational pleasures of religion, are open to all; and they are, all of them, capable of giving that real happiness contended for. These being the only fountains from which true pleasure springs, it is no wonder that many should be impelled to say, they have not yet found it, and should still cry out, "Who will show us any good." They seek it every way but the true way. They want a heart for devotion, humanity, friendship, and love; and a taste for whatever is truly beautiful and admirable. P 2 PRIDE. EVERY man, however little, makes a figure in his own eyes. Pride, by a great mistake, is commonly taken for a greatness of soul; as if the soul was to be ennobled by vice: For that pride is one of the most enormous of vices, I think no reasonable man can dispute: It is the base offspring of weakness, imperfection, and ignorance: since, were we not weak and imperfect creatures, we should not be destitute of knowledge of ourselves; and had we that knowledge, it were impossible we should be proud, but, on the contrary, true humility is a certain mark of a bright reason, and elevated soul, as being the natural consequences of them. When we come to have our minds cleared by reason from those thick mists that our disorderly passions throw about them; when we come to discern more perfectly, and consider more nearly the immense power and goodness, the infinite glory and duration of God; and to make a comparison between these perfections of his, and our own frailty and weakness, and the shortness and uncertainty of our beings, we should humble ourselves even into the very dust before him.Titles, riches, and fine houses, signify no more to the making of one man better than another, than the finer saddle to the making the better horse. And it truly shows a poor spirit, for one man to take these paltry advantages of another; it must be intrinsic worth in any creature, that must give it the preference to another. If he is ambitious to excel his fellows, let it be in something that belongs to himself; something that demonstrates him to be a better creature. Let him contend in virtue, which alone is capable to put a great difference between man and man; and whoever gains the advantage there, has reason to value it, though it will never make him proud. Of all the causes which conspire to blind What wants in blood and spirits, swell'd with wind; Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, And fills up all the mighty void of sense. If once right reason drives that cloud away, Truth breaks upon us with résistless day. Trust not yourselves, but your defects to know, Make use of ev'ry friend and ev'ry foe. He who thinks no man above him but for his virtue, none below him but for his vice, can never be obsequious in a wrong place. That is a mean and despicable kind of pride, that measures worth by the gifts of fortune, the greatest portion of which is too often in the hands of the least deserving. None are so invincible as your half-witted people, who know just enough to excite their pride, but not so much as to cure their igno rance. The little soul that converses no higher than the looking glass, and a fantastic dress, may help to make up the show of the world; but cannot be reckoned among the rational inhabitants of it. If they who affect an outward show, knew how many deride their trivial taste, they would be ashamed of themselves, and grow wiser; and bestow their superfluities in helping the needy, and befriending the neglected. Proud men never have friends; neither in prosperity, because they know no body; nor in adversity because then nobody knows them. By ignorance is pride increas'd, Those most assume who know the least; Their own false balance gives them weight, But every other finds them light. Men of fine parts, they say, are proud; I answer, dull people are seldom so, and both act upon an appearance of reason. Pride and modesty are sometimes found to unite togeth |