tion, depends on the part they act-on

their conduct.

Let them be a supine, indolent race, averse to rational inquiries-to all serious application- let it be their business to divert themselves, to give a loose to fancy and appetite-let all their schemes be those of self-indulgence, and their life a round of vanity and sensuality; sad must be the condition of the nation to which they belong! throughout it must be disorder and confusion-it must have the worst to fear from its more powerful neighbours.

And as, in all countries, they who are distinguished by their rank or fortune, have their post, their duty, their task for the common good-as to discharge this requires many accomplishments, the attainment of which is matter of much attention and pains, requires an improved understanding, command of passions, an integrity and resolution, which only can be preserved by an habitual seriousness and redection as they cannot fail in their parts, cannot misemploy their leisure, and enfit themselves for, or be negligent in the service appointed them, but their country must suffer grievously in its most valuable interests; the diligence they should use, the little time they have to trifle away is evident: it is most evident under what obligations they are, not to abandon themselves to merely animal gratifications, and the pleasures of sense-to sloth and inacurity.

Nor is it only from the omission of what they ought to perform, that the public will in this case suffer, but from the example they set. An insensibility that they are to Eve to any useful purposes-a thoughtlessDess of their having any thing to mind but their humour and liking-a gross carelessness how their days pass, cannot appear among those of higher rank, but the infection will spread itself among those of a lower; these will desire to be as lazy and worthless as their superiors to have the same share of mirth and jollity to be of as little consequence to the public.

That this will be the case, is as certain, experience can make any thing. It has been, and is every where found, that where they, who have the wealth, and are therefore supposed, though very unreasonably, to have the sense of a nation, treat their time as of no account, only think of making it subservient to their excesses, their vanity, or their sports; the same wrong notions soon spread among their inferiors.

The populace, indeed, cannot be quite so dissolute they cannot be so immersed in sloth and sensuality, as the richer part of a nation, because their circumstances permit it not; their maintenance must cost them some care and pains, but they will take as little as they can-they will, as far as is in their power, have their fill of what their betters teach them to be the comforts of life, the enjoyments proper for reasonable creatures-they cannot debauch themselves in the more elegant and expensive ways, but they will in those which suit their education and condition-they can. not be wholly useless, but if they make themselves of any service, it shall only be because they are paid for it, because they cannot be supported without it.

And how can we expect that things should be otherwise? It is not, upon the lowest computation, one in a hundred who forms his manners upon the principles of reason. Example, customary practice govern us. And, as they, who are more especially dependent upon others, have it taught them, from their very infancy, to respect those on whom they depend-to observe them-to be directed by them; no wonder that they should be fond of imitating them, as far as their situation admits; no wonder that they should copy their fol lies, since that they can do most easily, and that most suits their natural depravity.

But to him, whose industry is his support, I would observe: he should not think, that, if they, who enjoy the plenty he wants, are prodigal of their time-misemploy it-waste it: their abuse of it will at all excuse his. He cannot possibly be igno rant how unfitting such a waste of time is

how much good it hinders-how much evil it occasions - and how much a greater sufferer he will be from it, than those who are in more plentiful circumstances.

And let it be considered, by both high and low, rich and poor, that there can be nothing so becoming them, there can be nothing that will give them so solid, so lasting a satisfaction, as to be employed in serving mankind- in furthering their happidess. What thought can we entertain more honourable with respect to God himself, than that "his mercy is over all his "works"-that his goodness is continually displaying itself through the whole extent of being-that the unthankful and the evil he not only forbears, but still seeks to awaken to a due acknowledgment of him-to a just sense of their true interest,

by persevering in his kindness towards them, by continuing to them the blessings they so ill deserve.

And if the consideration of the universal Creator as thus acting, be really that which makes him appear most amiable to us which affects us with the most profound veneration of him, and chiefly renders it pleasing to us to contemplate his other perfections; what worth do we evidence, how highly do we recommend ourselves, when employed either in qualifying ourselves for doing good, or in doing it-when we have the common advantage our constant pursuit-when we seek for pleasure in making ourselves of use, and feel happiness in the degree in which we communicate it?

III. What employment of our time the relation in which we stand to God suggests to us, I am next to shew.

Every one who reads this, I may justly suppose sensible that there is a nature superior to his own, and even possessed of the highest excellencies-that to it we owe our existence, owe the endowments, which place us at the head of all the creatures upon earth; owe whatever can make us desire to have our existence continued to us-that by his superior nature alone, many of our wants can be supplied-that on it we entirely depend-that from its favour. the whole of our increasing happiness can be expected.

From what we thus know of God and ourselves, there must arise certain duties towards him, the performance of which will have its demand on our time. His perfections require our highest veneration; this cannot be exercised or preserved without our serious attention to and recollection of them. His mercies demand our most humble and grateful acknowledgments: proper acts of thanksgiving are therefore what we should be blameable to omit; they daily become us, and should be made with all the solemnity and fervour, that suit the kindness vouchsafed us, and the majesty of him to whom we address ourselves. A

due sense of our weakness and wants is a constant admonition to us to look up to that Being whose power and goodness are infinite, and to cherish such dispositions as are most likely to recommend us to him; hence it is evident what stress we should lay upon those awful invocations of the divine interposition in our favour, and upon that devout confession of our unworthiness of it, which have a natural tendency to keep the Deity present to our remembrance, and to purify our hearts.

Public acknowledgments of the goodness of God, and application for his blessings, contribute to give a whole community suitable apprehensions of him; and these, if it be my duty to entertain, it is equally my duty to propagate; both as the regard I pay the divine excellencies is hereby fitly expressed, and as the same advantage, that I receive from such apprehensions, will be received by all whom they affect in the same manner with me. Hence it is clearly our duty to join in the public worship-to promote by our regular attendance upon it, a like regularity in others.

These observations will, I hope, be thought sufficient proofs; that, from the relation we bear to God, a certain portion of our time is his claim-ought to be set apart for meditation upon him, for prayer to him, and for such other exercise of our reason as more immediately respects him, and suits our obligations towards him. Dean Bolton.

$150. On the Employment of Time.

ESSAY THE THIRD.

Since all things are uncertain, favour 'yourself.' Where have I met with it? Whosesoever the advice is, it proceeds upon a supposition absolutely false, That there is an uncertainty in all things: and were the supposition true, the inference would be wrong: did we allow, that there was such an uncertainty in all things, it would be wrongly concluded from thence, that we should favour ourselves.

7

First, there is not the uncertainty here supposed. With regard to those things which call us to thoughts very different from that of favouring ourselves-which should withdraw our attention from our own will, our own liking-which suggest to us quite other considerations than of taking our ease, and indulging our appetites-which should make the animal life the least of our concern-which should render us only solicitous to purify ourselves, and be useful to our fellow-creatares; with regard to these things, I say, we have either absolute certainty, or the highest degree of probability.

To have produced so much beauty and order, as every where discover themselves, intelligence was not only requisite, but great wisdom and power. The beneficial efects naturally resulting from the things thus beautifully formed and orderly disposed, demonstrate the goodness, as well as the wisdom and power of their author. That the benefits he designed, should constantly take place, must, as he is a good being, be agreeable to his will; and whatever hinders their taking effect, must be disagreeable to it.

We cannot have a surer mark of what pleases him, than its being productive of happiness; and whatever has misery accompanying it, carries with it the clearest proof of its displeasing him.

A virtuous practice greatly furthering the happiness of mankind, must be pleasing to their Maker; a vicious one must displease him, as it necessarily obstructs their happiness.

If from any accidental indisposition of things, as from the number of the criminal, virtue should here miss its reward, there is great likelihood that it will else where receive it; and, if vice, by a like accident, should, in particular instances, not carry with it those marks of its offending the Governor of the world, which it in most cases bears, there is the highest probability that it will have its punishment in some future state. There is that probability in favour of virtue, not only from what our reasonings on the justice and goodness of God induce us to think it has to expect from him, but also from the visible manner in which he signifies his approbation of it. He has impressed a sense of its worth on the minds of all mankind he has made satisfaction inseparable from a conformity to it-he has appointed many advantages in the ordi

nary course of things, its attendants: which seem concurring assurances, that to whatsoever disadvantages it may now, occasionally, expose us, they will be at length fully recompensed. And there is the probability I have mentioned, that the guilty will not be always without a punishment adequate to their crimes, not only from the apprehensions we may fitly entertain of a just Governor of the universe; but also, from the manner in which he, to the notice of all men, expresses his abhorrence of vice: annexing to many crimes immediate inconveniences -giving others a very short respite from the severest distress, the painfullest diseases-allowing none to have our reason and conscience on their side, to be approved by us in our hours of seriousness and calm reflection.

Virtue is, evidently, preserved and promoted by frequent consideration-by diligence and application-by the denial of our appetites-by the restraint of our inclinations-by a constant watchfulness over our passions-by cherishing in ourselves sentiments of humanity and benevolence. Vice is, as manifestly, produced, and confirmed by inattentionby supineness and carelessness-by fa vouring our appetites-by consulting rather what we are disposed to, than what is best for us, rather what inclination, than what reason suggests-by an attachment to the satisfaction of the present moment, to our immediate profit or convenience-by adopting narrow, selfish principles.

no

Thus it will appear, that there is by

means an uncertainty in all things. Most certain it is from whence virtue has its security and improvement. Equally certain is it how we become bad, and how we are made worse. Virtue has, in the nature of things, a reward of which it cannot be deprived, and vice as sure a punishment. All those accidents which obstruct either the advantages suiting a virtuous practice, or the sufferings that a vicious one ought to feel, may fitly carry our thoughts to some future state, when each will have its full desert from that Being, who has so clearly expressed as well his approbation of virtue, as his abhorrence of vice; and whose goodness, wisdom and power, as they admit of demonstration, so they cannot but be believed to concur in bestowing those rewards and punishments, which will be most for the

welfare

welfare of the noblest part of the creation, the intelligent part of it.

But if there were the uncertainty that is not; the right consequence would not be, Favour yourself; it would be, Secure yourself: Provide against the worst. Let your present enjoyments be directed by the influence they may have on your future happiness: consider the whole possible extent of your existence, and forego the satisfaction of a few moments, rather than hazard the loss of a good that may continue for endless ages.

Such seem the proper inferences in this case; and the security of ourselves is very unlikely to be effected by favouring our selves the result of this, in a remoter period, may, with the highest degree of probability, be conjectured from what is, every day, experienced.

Bear and forbear, is the lesson for him who merely seeks to give his present life all the comfort in his power. Great inconveniences we cannot even here avoid, but by submitting to lesser.

Freedom from pain is the price of the enjoyments we deny ourselves; and strength of body purchased by the exercise that so severely fatigues it.

To what sleepless nights would he be condemned, whose ease throughout the day was to have no interruption? How little relish should we have of our food, were we to know nothing of the disquiet of hunger? The man who would most taste the gratifications of sense, must be the most sparing in his application to them; thence it is they not only are heightened, but continued to It seems the condition of our being, that we should have no pleasure gratisthat we should pay for each, before or after its enjoyment. To decline whatever we could be less pleased with, is the surest way to increase both the number of our sufferings, and their weight.

us.

What can be more precarious than the continuance of human life? Who in his twentieth year acknowledges not, how uncertain it is whether he shall see his fortieth? Yet no one of common prudence seeks barely to crowd as much satisfaction into his life, as can consist with his reaching that period: there is no prudent man but denies himself many things, in hopes of attaining a much longer term.

We must unusually fail in the love of our children, if we would not pursue their welfare, in the same way by which we

judge our own best consulted. But where is the advocate for "Favour yourself, "since all things are uncertain," who, if discretion makes any part of his character, governs himself by that principle in their education-who does not restrain them in a thousand instances? while yet the uneasiness it gives, and the tears it costs them, may probably never find that very small recompense, which must be the utmost he can propose from it. I say, this recompense may, probably, never be found; a late eminent mathematician having, upon an exact calculation, observed, that one half of those that are born, are dead in seventeen years' time.

ge.

Some claim to a public spirit, to a love of their country, we find made by the nerality of us, even in this very profligate age. But from him, whose rule it is to favour himself, the public can have nothing to expect. Were this the prevailing principle among us, 'tis obvious how little regard would be shewn to the common welfare.

All of the learned professions would re gulate their application, by its subservi ency to their maintenance, and think they had nothing so much to study, as how to make their fortune.

Soldier and sailor would have no notion of any honour distinct from their advan tage of any obligation they could be under, when their pay might be safe, to endanger their persons.

The people would judge none so fit to represent them, as they who had been at the greatest expense in corrupting them; and the representatives of the people would see no reason why the whole of what was to be gained should go to their constituents.

In short, nothing but supineness and sloth-an attachment to their ease, and the gratification of their senses-low, unmanly views-pursuits throughout the most selfish and sordid could prevail, among all orders and degrees of men, in any country, where the received doctrine was, favour yourself.

Hence certainly is it, that not only the better constituted governments, but even the nations of a less refined policy, have encouraged so much an indifference to the scanty portion of life here allotted us-to the continuance, the ease, the conveniences of it; exciting, by various methods, each member of the community, to have chiefly at heart the public interest-to be ever di