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view, to tell in general how the parts He, and may be able to give some loose description of here a mountain and there a plain, here a morass and there a river; woodland in one part and savannahs in another. Such su[>erficial ideas and observations as these he may collect in galloping over it; but the more useful observations of the soil, plants, animals, and inhabitants, with their several sorts and properties, must necessarily escape him; and it is seldom men ever discover the rich mines without some digging. Nature commonly lodges her treasures and jewels in rocky ground. If the matter be knotty, and the sense lies deep, the mind must stop and buckle to it, and stick upon it with labour and thought, and close contemplation, and not leave it until it has mastered the difficulty and got possession of truth. Hut here care must be taken to avoid the other extreme: a man must not stick at every useless nicety, and expect mysteries of science in every trivial question or scruple that he may raise. He that will stand to pick up and examine every pebble that comes in his way, is as unlikely to return enriched and laden with jewels, as the other that travelled full speed. Truths are not the better nor the worse for their obviousness or difficulty, but their value is to be measured by their usefulness and tendency. Insignificant observations should not take up any of our minutes ; and those that enlarge our view, and give light towards further and useful discoveries, should not be neglected, though they stop our course, and spend some of our time in a fixed attention.

There is another haste that does often, and will, mislead the mind, if it be left to itself and its own conduct. The understanding is naturally forward, not only to learn its knowledge by variety (which makes it skip over one to get speedily to another part of knowledge), but also eager to enlarge its views by running too fast into general observations and conclusions, without a due examination of particulars enough whereon to found those general axioms. This seems to enlarge their stock, but it is of fancies, not realities; such theories, built upon narrow foundations, stand but weakly, and if they fall not themselves, are at least very hardly to be supported against the assaults of opposition. And thus men, being too hasty to erect to themselves general notions and illgrounded theories, find themselves deceived in their stock of knowledge, when they come to examine their hastily assumed maxims themselves, or to have them attacked by others. General observations, drawn from particulars, are the jewels of knowledge, comprehending great store in a little room; but they are therefore to be made with the greater care and caution, lest, if we take counterfeit for true, our loss and shame will be the greater, when our stock comes to a severe scrutiny. One or two particulars may suggest hints of inquiry, and they do well who take those hints; but if they turn them into conclusions, and make them presently general rules, they are forward indeed; but it is only to impose on themselves by propositions assumed for truths without sufficient warrant. To make such observations, is, as has been already re* marked, to make the head a magazine of materials, which can hardly be called knowledge, or at least it is but like a collection of lumber not reduced to use or order; and he that makes everything an observation, has the same useless plenty, and much more falsehood mixed with it. The extremes on both sides are to be avoided ; and he will be able to give the best account of his studies, who keeps his understanding in the right mean between them.

[Pleasure and Pain.1]

The infinitely wise Author of our being, having given us the power over several parts of our bodies, to

move or keep them at rest, as we think fit; and also, by the motion of them, to move ourselves and contiguous bodies, in which consists all the actions of our body; having also given a power to our mind, in several instances, to choose amongst its ideas which ic will think on, and to pursue the inquiry of this or that subject with consideration and attention ; to excite us to these actions of thinking and motion that we are capable of, has been pleased to join to several thoughts, and several sensations, a perception of delight. If this were wholly separated from all our outward sensations and inward thoughts, we should have no reason to prefer one thought or action to another, negligence to attention, or motion to rest. And so we should neither stir our bodies, nor employ our minds; but let our thoughts (if 1 may so call it) run adrift, without any direction or design; and suffer the I ideas of our minds, like unregarded shadows, to make their appearances there, as it happened, without attending to them. In which state, man, however furnished with the faculties of understanding and will, would be a very idle inactive creature, and pass his time" only in a lazy lethargic dream. It has, therefore, pleased our wise Creator to annex to several objects, and the ideas which we receive from them, as also to several of our thoughts, a concomitant pleasure, and that in several objects to several degree*, that those faculties which he had endowed us with might not remain wholly idle and unemployed by us.

Pain has the same efficacy and use to set us on work that pleasure has, wc being as ready to employ our faculties to avoid that, as to pursue this; only this is worth our consideration, * that pain is often produced by the same objects and ideas that produce pleasure in us.* This, their near conjunction, which makes us often feel pain in the sensations where we expected pleasure, gives us new occasion of admiring the wisdom and goodness of our Maker, who, designing the preservation of our b^ing, has annexed pain to the application of many things to our bodies, to warn us of the harm that they will do, and as advices to withdraw from them. But He, not designing our preservation barely, but the preservation of every part and organ in its perfection, hath, in many cases, annexed pain to those very ideas which delight us. Thus heat, that is very agreeable to us in one degree, by a little greater increase of it, proves no ordinary torment; and the most pleasant of all sensible objects, light itself, if there be too much of it, if increased beyond a due proportion to our eyes, causes a very painful sensation; which is wisely and favourably so ordered by nature, that when any object does, by the vehemency of its operation, disorder the instruments of sensation, whose structures cannot but be very nice and delicate, we might by the pain be warned to withdraw, before the organ be quite put out of order, and so be unfitted for its proper function for the future. The consideration of those objects that produce it may well persuade us, that this is the end or use of pain. For, though great light be insufferable to our eyes, yet the highest degree of darkness does not at all disease them; because that causing no disorderly motion in it, leaves that curious organ unharmed in its natural state. But yet excess of cold, aa well as heat, pains us, because it is equally destructive to that temper which is necessary to the preservation of life, and the exercise of the several functions of the body, and which consists in a moderate degree of warmth, or, if you please, a motion of the insensible parts of our bodies, confined within certain bounds.

Beyond all this, we may find another reason why God hath scattered up and down several degrees of pleasure and pain in all the things that environ and affect us, and blended them together in almost all that our thoughts and senses have to do with; that we, finding imperfection, dissatisfaction, and want of com- i I plete happiness in all the enjoyments which the crea! tures can afford us, might be led to seek it in the enjoyment of IIim 'with whom there is fulness of joy, and at whose right hand are pleasures for evermore.'

[Importance of Moral Education.'] Under whose care soever a child is put to be taught during the tender and flexible years of his life, this is certain, it should be one who thinks Latin and languages the least part of education; one who, knowing how much virtue and a well-tempered soul is to be preferred to any sort of learning or language, makes it his chief business to form the mind of his scholars, and give that a right disposition; which, if once got, though all the rest should be neglected, would in due time produce all the rest; and which, if it be not I got, and settled so as to keep out ill and vicious I habits—languages, and sciences, and all the other i accomplishments of education, will be to no purpose but to make the worse or more dangerous man.

{Fading of Ideas from the Mind."]

Ideas quickly fade, and often vanish quite out of the understanding, leaving no more footsteps or remaining characters of themselves than shadows do flying I over a 6eld of corn. * * The memory of some men is very tenacious, even to a miracle; but yet there seems to be a constant decay of all our ideas, even of those which are struck deepest, and in minds the | most retentive; so that if they be not sometimes reI newed by repeated exercise of the senses, or reflection ] on those kind of objects which at first occasioned j them, the print wears out, and at last there remains l nothing to be seen. Thus the ideas, as well as chil'dren of our youth, often die before us ; and our minds I represent to us those tombs to which we are approachj ing, where, though the brass and marble remain, yet I the inscriptions are effaced by time, and the imagery ! moulders away. Pictures drawn in our minds are j laid in fading colours, and, unless sometimes refreshed, vanish and disappear. How much the constitution ! of our bodies and the make of our animal spirits are concerned in this, and whether the temper of the brain make this difference, that in some it retains the characters drawn on it like marble, in others like freestone, and in others little better than sand, I shall not here inquire: though it may seem probable that the constitution of the body does sometimes influence the memory; since we oftentimes find a disease quite strip the mind of all its ideas, and the flames of a fever in a few days calcine all those images to dust and confusion, which seemed to be as lasting as if graved in marble.

{History.]

The stories of Alexander and Caesar, farther than they instruct us in the art of living well, and furnish us with observations of wisdom and prudence, arc not one jot to be preferred to the history of Robin Hood, or the Seven Wise Masters. I do not deny but history is very useful, and very instructive of human life; but if it be studied only for the reputation of being a historian, it is a very empty thing; and he that can tell all the particulars of Herodotus and Plutarch, Curtius and Livy, without making any other use of them, may be an ignorant man with a cood memory, and with all his pains hath only filled his head with Christmas tales. And, which is worse, the greatest part of history being made up of wars and conquests, and their style, especially the Romans, speaking of valour as the chief if not the only virtue, we are in danger to be misled by the general current and business of history; and, looking on Alexander and Cic*ar, and such-like heroes, as the highest instances of human greatness, because they each of them

caused the death of several hundred thousand men, and the ruin of a much greater number, overran a great part of the earth, and killed the inhabitants to possess themselves of their countries—we are apt to make butchery and rapine the chief marks and very essence of human greatness. And if civil history he a great dealer of it, and to many readers thus useless, curious and difficult inquirings in antiquity are much more so; and the exact dimensions of the Colossus, or figure of the Capitol, the ceremonies of the Greek and Roman marriages, or who it was that first coined money; these, I confess, set a man well off in the world, especially amongst the learned, but sot him very little on in his way. * *

I shall only add one word, and then conclude: and that is, that whereas in the beginning 1 cut off history from our study as a useless part, as certainly it is where it is read only as a tale that is told; here, on the other side, 1 recommend it to one who hath wall settled in his mind the principles of morality, and knows how to make a judgment on the actions of men, as one of the most useful studies he can apply himself to. There he shall see a picture of the world and the nature of mankind, and so learn to think of men as they are. There he shall see the rise of opinions, and find from what slight and sometimes shameful occasions some of them have taken their rise, which yet afterwards have had great authority, and passed almost for sacred in the world, and borne down all before them. There also one may learn great and useful instructions of prudence, and be warned against the cheats and rogueries of the world, with many more advantages which I shall not here enumerate.

[Orthodoxy and Heresy.]

The great division among Christians is about opinions. Kvcry sect has its set of them, and that is called Orthodoxy; and he that professes his assent to them, though with an implicit faith, and without examining, is orthodox, and in the way to salvation. But if he examines, and thereupon questions any one of them, he is presently suspected of heresy; and if he oppose them or hold the contrary, he is presently condemned as in a damnable error, and in the sure way to perdition. Of this one may say, that there is nor can be nothing more wrong. For he that examines, and upon a fair examination embraces an error for a truth, has done his duty more than he who embraces the profession (for the truths themselves he does not embrace) of the truth without having examined whether it be true or no. And he that has done his duty according to the best of his ability, is certainly more in the way to heaven than he who has done nothing of it. For if it be our duty to search after truth, he certainly that has searched after it, though he has not found it, in some points has paid a more acceptable obedience to the will of his Maker than he that has not searched at all, but professes to have found truth, when he has neither searched nor found it. For he that takes up the opinions of any church in the lump, without examining them, has truly neither searched after nor found truth, but has only found those that he thinks have found truth, and so receives what they say with an implicit faith, and so pays them the homage that is due only to God, who cannot be deceived, nor deceive. In this way the several churches (in which, as one may observe, opinions are preferred to life, and orthodoxy is that which they are concerned for, and not morals) put the terms of salvation on that which the Author of our salvation does not put them in. The believing of a collection of certain propositions, which are called and esteemed fundamental artkles, because it has pleased the compilers to put them into their confession of faith, is made the condition of salvation.

[Disputation.]

One should not dispute with a man who, either through stupidity or shamelessness, denies plain and visible truths.

[Liberty.]

I*et your will lead whither necessity would drive, and y«u will always preserve your liberty.

[Opposition to Xew Doctrines.']

The imputation of novelty is a terrible charge amongst those who judge of men's heads, as they do j of their perukes, by the fashion, and can allow none to be right but the received doctrines. Truth scarce ever yet carried it by vote anywhere at its first apjvearance: new opinions are always suspected, and usually opposed, without any other reason but because they are not already common. But truth, like gold, is not the less so for being newly brought out of the mine. It is trial and examination must give it price, and not any antique fashion: and though it be not yet current by the public stamp, yet it may, for all that, be as old as nature, and is certainly not the less geuuine.

[Duty of Preserving Health.]

If by gaining knowledge we destroy our health, we labour for a thing that will be useless in our hands; and if, by harassing our bodies (though with a design to render ourselves more useful), we deprive ourselves of the abilities and opportunities of doing that good we might have done with a meaner talent, which God thought sufficient for us, by having denied us the strength to improve it to that pitch which men of stronger constitutions can attain to, we rob God of so much service, and our neighbour of all that help which, in a state of health, with moderate knowledge, we might have been able to perform. He that sinks his vessel by overloading it, though it be with gold, and silver, and precious stones, will give his owner but an ill account of his voyage.

[Toleration of Other Bfen's Opinions.']

Since, therefore, it is unavoidable to the greatest part of men, if not all, to have several opinions, without certain and indubitable proofs of their truth; and it carries too great an imputation of ignorance, lightness, or folly, for men to quit and renounce their former tenets presently upon the offer of an argument, which they cannot immediately answer, and show the insufficiency of: it would, mcthinks, become all men to maintain peace, and the common offices of humanity and friendship, in the diversity of opinions: since we cannot reasonably expect that any one should readily and obsequiously quit his own opinion, and embrace ours with a blind resignation to an authority, which the understanding of man acknowledges not. For however it may often mistake, it can own no other guide but reason, nor blindly submit to the will and dictates of another. If he you would bring over to your sentiments be one that examines before he assents, you must give him leave at his leisure to go over the account again, and, recalling what is out of his mind, examine all the particulars, to see on which side the advantage lies: and if he will not think our arguments of weight enough to engage

, him anew iu so much pains, it is but what we often do ourselves in the like coses, and we should take it

i amiss if others should prescribe to us what points we should study. And if he be one who takes his opinions uj>on trust, how can we imagine that he should renounce those tenets which time and custom have so

settled in his mind, that he thinks them self-evident, and of an unquestionable certainty; or which he takes | to be impressions he has received from God himself, or from men sent by him? How can we expect, I say, that opinions thus settled should be given up to the arguments or authority of a stranger or adversary, especially if there be any suspicion of interest or design, as there never fails to be where men find themselves ill treated i We should do well to commiserate our mutual ignorance, and endeavour to remove it j in all the gentle and fair ways of information ; and not instantly treat others ill, as obstinate and perTerse, because they will not renounce their own and receive our opinions, or at least those we would force! upon them, when it is more than probable that we are no less obstinate in not embracing some of theirs. For where is the man that has incontestable evidence of the truth of all that he holds, or of the falsehood of all he condemns; or can say that he has examined to the bottom all his own, or other men's opinions! The necessity of believing without knowledge, nay, often upon very slight grounds, in this fleeting state of action and blindness we are in, should make us more busy and careful to inform ourselves than constrain others. At least those who have not thoroughly examined to the bottom all their own tenets, must confess they are unlit to prescribe to others; and are unreasonable in imposing that as truth on other men's belief which they themselves have not searched into, nor weighed the arguments of probability on which they should receive or reject it. Those who have fairly and truly examined, and are thereby got past doubt in all the doctrines they profess and govern themselves by, would have a juster pretence to require others to follow them: but these are so few in number, and find so little reason to be magisterial in then opinions, that nothing insolent and imperious is to be expected from them: and there is reason to think, that if men were better instructed themselves, they would be less imposing on others.

THE HONOURABLE ROBERT BOYLE.

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tion of his principles, how truly he had pointed out the means of enlarging human knowledge. The eminent man of whom we speak was the son of Richard Boyle, Earl of Cork, at whose mansion of Lismore he was born in the year 1627. After studying at Eton college and Geneva, and travelling through Italy, he returned to England in 1044. Being in easy circumstances, and endowed with uncommon activity of mind, he forthw ith applied

J himself to those studies and ex[>erinients in chemistry and natural philosophy which continued to

1 engage his attention throughout the remainder of his life. During the civil war, some ingenious men

j began to hold weekly meetings at Oxford, for the

'cultivation of what was then termed 'the new philosophy,' first at the lodgings of l)r Wilkins (as already stated in our account of that divine), and subsequently, for the most part, at the residence of Boyle. These scientific persons, with others who afterwards joined them, were incorporated by Charles II., in 1662, under the title of the Royal Society. Boyle, after settling in London in 16C8, was one of the most active members, and many of his treatises originally appeared in the Society's ' Philosophical Transactions.' The works of this industrious man (who died in 1691), are so numerous, that they occupy six thick quarto volumes. They consist chiefly of accounts of his experimental researches in chemistry and natural philosophy, particularly with respect to the mechanical and chemical properties of the air. The latter subject was one in which he felt much interest; and by means of the air-pump, the construction of which he materially improved, he succeeded in making many valuable pneumatic discoveries. Theology likewise being a favourite subject, he published various works, both in defence of Christianity, and in explanation of the benefits accruing to religion from the study of the divine attributes as displayed in the material world. So earnest was he in the cause of Christianity, that he not only devoted much time and money in contributing to its propagation in foreign parts, but, by a codicil to his will, made provision for the delivery of eight sermons yearly in London by sonic learned divine, 'for proving the Christian religion against notorious infidels, namely, atheists, theists, pagans, Jews, and Mahometans; not descending lower to any controversies that are among Christians themselves.' We learn from his biographers, that in 1G60 he was solicited by Lord Clarendon to adopt the clerical profession, in order that the church might have the support of those eminent abilities and virtues by which he was distinguished. Two considerations, however, induced him to withhold compliance. In the first place, he regarded himself as more likely to advance religion by his writings in the character of a layman, than if he were in the more interested position of one of the clergy—whose preaching there was a general tendency to look upon as the remunerated exercise of a profession. And secondly, he felt the obligations, importance, and difficulties of the pastoral care to be so great, that he wanted the confidence to undertake it j 'especially,' says Bishop Burnet, 'not having felt within himself an inward motion to it by the Holy Ghost; and the first question that is put to those who come to be initiated into the service of the

! church, relating to that motion, he, who had not felt it, thought he durst not make the step, lest otherwise he should have lied to the Holy Ghost, so solemnly and seriously did he ju<1ge of sacred matters.' He valued religion chiefly for its practical influence in improving the moral character of men, and had a decided aversion to controversy on abstract doctriual points. His disapprobation of severities

and persecution on account of religious belief was very strong ; ' and I have seldom,' says Burnet, ' observed him to speak with more heat and indignation than when that came in his way.'

The titles of those works of Boyle which are most likely to attract the general reader, are Considerations on lite Usefulness of Experimental Philosophy; Considerations on the Style of the Holy Scriptures; A Free Discourse against Customary Sweating; Consideration about the Recottcilableness of Reastm and Religion, and the Possibility of a Insurrection; A Discourse of Things above Reason; A Discourse of the High Veneration Man's Intellect owes to God, particularly for his }Visdom and Power; A Disquisition into the Final Causes of Natural Things; The Christian Virtuoso, showing that, by being addicted to Experimental Philosophy, a man is rawer assisted than indisposed to be a good Christian; and A Treatise of Seraphic Love. Republished, in 1665, Occasional Reflections on Several Subjects, mostly written in early life, and which Swift has ridiculed in his 'Pious Meditation on a Broomstick.' The comparative want of taste and of sound judgment displayed in this portion of Boyle's writings, is doubtless to be ascribed to the immature age at which it was composed, and the circumstance that it was not originally intended for the public eye. The occasions of these devout'Reflections' are such as the following:—' Upon his horse stumbling in a very fair way;' 'Upon his distilling spirit of roses in a limbick;'' Upon two very miserable beggars begging together by the highway 'Upon the sight of a windmill standing still;'' Ui>on his paring of a rare summer apple;' 'Upon his coach's being stopped in a narrow lane;' 'Upon my spaniel's fetching me my glove;' 'Upon the taking up his horses from grass, and giving them oats before they were to be ridden a journey.'

The works of Boyle upon natural theology take the lead among the excellent treatises on that subject by which the literature of our country is adorned.

His style is clear and precise, but he is apt to prolong hiB sentences until they become insufferably tedious. Owing to the haste with which many of his pieces were sent to the press, their deficiency of method is such, as, in conjunction with the prolixity of their style, to render the perusal of them a somewhat disagreeable task. The following specimens, gathered from different treatises, are the most interesting we have been able to find:—

\_Tke Study of Natural Philosop/iy favourable to Religion.]

The first advantage that our experimental philosopher, as such, hath towards being a Christian, is, that his course of studies conduceth much to settle in his mind a firm belief of the existence, and divers of the chief attributes, of God j which belief is, in the order of things, the first principle of that natural religion which itself is pre-required to revealed religion in general, and consequently to that in particular which I is embraced by Christians.

That the consideration of the vastness, beauty, and regular motions of the heavenly bodies, the excellent structure of animals and plant*, betides a multitude of other phenomena of nature, and the subserviency of most of these to man, may justly induce him, as a rational creature, to conclude that this vast, beautiful, orderly, and (in a word) many ways admirable system of things, that we call the world, was framed by an author supremely powerful, wise, and good, can scarce be denied by mi intelligent and unprejudiced coneiderer. And this is strongly confirmed by experience, which witnesseth, that in almost all ages and countries the generality of philosophers and coutempla- i tiTe men were persuaded of the existence of a Deity, by the consideration of the phenomena of the universe, whose fabric and conduct, they rationally concluded, could not be deservedly ascribed cither to blind chance, or to any other cause than a divine Being.

Hut though it be true 'that God hath not left himself without witness,' even to perfunctory considered, by stamping upon divers of the more obvious parts of his workmanship such conspicuous impressions of his attributes, that a moderate degree of understanding and attention may suffice to make men acknowledge his being, yet 1 scruple not to think that assent very much inferior to the belief that the same objects are fitted to produce in a heedful and intelligent contemplator of them. For the works of God are so worthy of their author, that, besides the impresses of his wisdom and goodness that are left, as it were, upon their surfaces, there are a great many more curious and excellent tokens and effects of divine artifice in the hidden and innermost recesses of them; and these are not to be discovered by the perfunctory looks of oscitant and unskilful beholders; but require, as well as deserve, the most attentive and prying inspection of ! inquisitive and well-instructed considerers. And sometimes in one creature there may be I know not 'how many admirable things, that escape a vulgar eye, and yet may be clearly discerned by that of a true I naturalist, who brings with him, besides a more than i common curiosity and attention, a competent knowI ledge of anatomy, optics, cosmography, mechanics, and chemistry. But treating elsewhere purposely of this subject, it may here suffice to say, that God has couched so many things in his visible works, that the clearer light a man has, the more he niay discover of their unobvious exquisiteness, and the more clearly i and distinctly he may discern those qualities that lie more obvious. And the more wonderful things he discovers in the works of nature, the more auxiliary proofs he meets with to establish and enforce the argument, drawn from the universe and its parts, to evince that there is a God ; which is a proposition of that vast weight and importance, that it ought to endear everything to us that is able to confirm it, and afford us new motives to acknowledge and adore the divine Author of things. * •

To be told that an eye is the organ of sight, and that this is performed by that faculty of the mind which, from its function, is called visive, will give a man but a sorry account of the instruments and manner of vision itself, or of the knowledge of that Opificer who, as the Scripture speaks, 'formed the eye.' And he that can take up with this easy theory of vision, will not think it necessary to take the pains to dissect the eyes of animals, nor study the books of mathematicians, to understand vision; and accordingly will have but mean thoughts of the contrivance of the organ, and the skill of the artificer, in comparison of the ideas that will be suggested of both of them to him that, being profoundly skilled in anatomy and optics, by their help takes asunder the several coats, humours, and muscles, of which that exquisite dioptrical instrument consists; and-having separately considered the figure, size, consistence, texture, diaphaneity or opacity, situation, and connection of each of them, and their coaptation in the whole eye, shall discover, by the help of the laws of optics, how admirably this little orpin is fitted to receive the incident beams of light, and dispose them in the best manner possible for completing the lively representation of the almost infinitely various objects of sight. * * It is not by a slight survey, but by a diligent and skilful scrutiny of the works of (iod, that a man must be, by a rational and affective conviction, engaged to acknowledge with the prophet, that the Author of nature is 'wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working.'

Xijkction upon a Lanthorn and Candle, carried by on a Windy Night.

As there are few controversies more important, so there are not many that have been more curiously and warmly disputed, than the question, whether a public or a private life be preferable! But perhap* this may be much of the nature of the other question, whether a married life or single ought rather to be chosen 1 that being best determinable by the circumstances of particular cases. For though, indefinitely speaking, one of the two may have advantages above the other, yet they are not so great but that special circumstances may make either of them the more eligible to particular persons. They that find themselves furnished with abilities to serve their generation in a public capacity, and virtue great enough to resist the temptations to which such a condition is usually exposed, may not only be allowed to embrace such an employment, but obliged to seek it. But he whose parts are too mean to qualify him to govern others, and perhaps to enable him to govern himself, or manage his own private concerns, or whose graces are so weak, that it is less to his virtues, or to his ability of resisting, than to his care of shunning the occasions of sin, that he owes his escaping the guilt of it, had better deny himself some opportunities of good, than expose himself to probable temptations. For there is such a kind of difference betwixt virtue shaded by a private and shining forth in a public life, as there is betwixt a candle carried aloft in the open air, and inclosed in a lanthom; in the former place it gives more light, but in the latter it is in less danger to be blown out.

Upon the tight of Hoses and Tulips growing near one

another. \

It is so uncommon a thing to see tulips last till roses come to be blown, that the seeing them in this i garden grow together, as it deserves my notice, Bo | methinks it should suggest to me some reflection or other on it. And perhaps it may not be an improper one to compare the difference betwixt these two kinds of flowers to the disparity which I have often observed betwixt the fates of those young ladies that are only very handsome, and those that have a less degree of beauty, recompensed by the accession of wit, discretion, and virtue: for tulips, whilst they are fresh, do indeed, by the lustre and vividness of their colours, more delight the eye than roses; but then they do not alone quickly fade, but, as soon as they have lost that freshness and gaudiness that solely endeared them, they degenerate into things not only undesirable, but distasteful; whereas roses, besides the moderate beauty they disclose to the eye (which is sufficient to please, though not to charm it), do not only keep their colour longer than tulips, but, when that decays, retain a perfumed odour, and divers useful qualities and virtues that survive the spring, and recommend them all the year. Thus those unadvised young ladies, that, because nature has given them beauty enough, despise all other qualities, and even that regular diet which is ordinarily requisite to make beauty itself lasting, not only are wont to decay betimes, but, as soon as they have lost that youthful freshness that alone endeared them, quickly pass from being objects of wonder and love, to be so of pity, if not of scom; whereas those that were as solicitous to enrich their minds as to adorn their faces, may not only with a mediocrity of beauty be very desirable whilst that lasts, but, notwithstanding the recess of that and youth, may, by the fragrancy of their reputation, and those virtues and ornaments of the mind that time does but improve, be always sufficiently endeared to those that have merit enough to discern and value such excel

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