riety of its Works, the Regularity of its Motions, and the Harmony of Providence; and let him feriously pronounce how little is his real Knowledge, how great his Ignorance. Let him take a Prospect of the vaft Dimensions of those astonishing Heaps of Matter that lie within the Reach of his Senfes; let him confider the ftupendous Motions that agitate the vaft Mass of Matter, and whirl about the numberlefs immense Bodies that take their Courses through the unmeafurable Space; and carry his Thoughts into that Immenfity, where Imagination itself can find no Limits: Let him confider that infinite Duration which is before and after him, and, finding his own Life included in it, let him obferve the little Scantling of it that falls to his Share. Let him thence carry his Thoughts into the intellectual World, that infinite Number of good and evil Spirits, with all their feveral Orders, Ranks, and Claffes, who have their diftinct Offices and Habitations in the feveral Centers of Light and Darkness; let him confider the vast Multitude of the Dead in their several Receptacles and Mansions, who, though dead to us, are now more alive and active than when they were united to thefe mortal Bodies: Let him add to these all the living Inhabitants of this earthly Globe, how few there be that know him, that think of him, or have any thing to do with him, and then return to himself, and confider what Rank he holds in the univerfal System, what is his Strength, his Power, his Knowledge; above all, let him contemplate the incomprchenfible Attributes of him who made all thofe Creatures; who is always prefent to every one of them, fupports and governs them; fees at once into the Minds of fuch an infinite Variety

of free Agents, and directs their Thoughts and Paffions to carry on his Designs in the Management of the Whole, yet without offering any Violence to their free Agency; inftead of dwelling upon his own fcanty Portion of Knowledge, Wifdom, and Power, and comparing it with fome of his inferior Fellow Creatures, let him draw the Comparison between himself and his Creator; and if, after this Survey, he can find any Occafion for Vanity, Boafting, or Self-conceit, he must be either an obftinately blind, or a contemptibly filly, Creature.

But fuppofing the most that can be fuppofed, that our Knowledge were as perfect as our Rank and Nature can require, there would ftill be as little Room for Vanity and Boafting. The Perfection of our Nature confifts not in the Soundness or Extent of our Understanding; all the Knowledge and Learning in the World, if it tends not to humble the natural Pride of our Hearts, to teach us the Knowledge of ourselves, to purify our Affections, to mend the Heart, and make us better Men, if it does not tend to promote in us, Humility, Devotion, and Charity, though we could talk with the Tongues of Men and of Angels, we should be but as founding Brafs and tinkling Cymbals. The Devil, doubtlefs, knows more than the most learned, or perhaps, than all the learned Men in the World, and yet is the most miferable of all Beings. The immenfe Capacity, the mighty Powers, the extenfive Views, and fiery Perceptions of his angelic Nature, whilft feparate from the meek Light and Love of God, are to him an infinite Fund of Anguish, an Abyfs of Mifery and Defpair. No; the Perfection of our Nature is a pure Heart en

lightened

lightened by Faith, and animated by Charity; and it is really a mortifying Thought, to confider, how feldom a clear rational Head, and an honest upright Heart meet together. I have often reflected, with Grief and Pity, upon feveral eminent Characters, both among the Living and the Dead; Perfons bleffed with fuperior Talents, great intellectual Abilities, Men that could reafon, compute, and infer, and draw rational Conclufions, who yet employed them to no better Purpose than to contrive and execute the bafe ungenerous Defigns of a covetous, proud, ambitious Heart; who, whilft they were capable of advifing and affifting the Helplefs, the Ignorant, and Unknowing, in the fraudulent Ways of this crooked World, yet have not Honefty enough to advise you for your Intereft, if they could mislead you, in order to improve their own, and make your Ignorance and Credulity a Step to their own Promotion, and the Advancement of their Fortunes. Hence you too often fee, in almost all Societies, even of learned Men (I wish I could except the most facred!) from the Conclave, down to the Governors of a petty GrammarSchool, as much Artifice, Intrigue, Chicane, and

as in a poor little Country Corporation. In fhort, we may pronounce, as the Apoftle did upon another Occafion, All Men feck their Own. All that Sincerity, Generofity, Charity, and public Spirit, which are infeparable from great and noble Minds, are buried under the low Views, the fordid Defigns, the selfish ambitious Schemes, of corrupt ungenerous Hearts. There is nothing more frequent, nor more to be lamented, than to fee the greatest Patrons, Ecclefiaftical as well as Civil, betrayed by their too great Confidence in the treacherous Profeffions and

Pretences

Pretences of selfish and designing Favourites, into fuch unworthy Promotions, as their own generous Hearts, if not deceived, would abhor; whilft Men of equal or fuperior Merit, are neglected or difcouraged, for fear they fhould ftand in the way, and obftruct the covetous or ambitious Views of the reigning Fa

vourite.

I am led into this Way of Thinking, by the Remembrance of my own particular Sufferings, which, though I have long ago forgiven, I shall never forget. Give me leave to tell you my own Story, which I fhall make as fhort as I can. At my first setting out from the University to try my Fortune among other Adventurers in the great Lottery of the World, I had the good Fortune to be well recommended to three eminent Perfons in Town. They quickly agreed to present me to a certain great Minister and Patron, who received me in a Manner, as much exceeding my Expectations as my Defert, and difmiffed me with ftrong Affurances of his Favour. A favourite Domeftic, who was a kind of Premier in the Family, who really wanted nothing but an honest Heart to make him truly a Great Man, congratulated me upon the kind Reception I had met with, and promised to improve every Opportunity of promoting my Interest. I departed, well fatisfied that my Fortune was made, that I had nothing more to do but to qualify myself for future Favours, by endeavouring to deserve them. Accordingly, I retired to my Studies, and was, in my own Imagination, poffeffed of every thing that could make my future Life happy: It was not long before a Vacancy happened, which my Friends immediately concluded would just answer my reasonable Expectations, and determined to wait upon his Lordship,

and

and beg it for me. They were received by my worthy Friend, who had promised to be my Advocate, and were told, that his Lordfhip was at prefent engaged, but he would watch a proper Opportunity of recommending me in such a Manner, that he could fcarce doubt of Succefs. Upon the firft Information, I haftened to Town, to wait upon my Patron, and acknowledge his Favour; but, to my great Surprize, I found it had been given away, the Day before, to another, upon the fole Recommendation of my very worthy and learned Friend, upon whofe Affurances I had fo heartily depended. However, I rallied up all the Philofophy I was Mafter of, and, like the Honeft Man in the Oxford Fefts, determined, fince I could not get a Place in Town, to take one in the Stage-Coach, and leave the treacherous and cunning Seekers of this World to fcramble and divide its Favours among them. Accordingly I retired to my little Patrimony, where I have lain many Years buried among the Ignorant and the Merry, the Noify and the Loud; neglected and forgotten by all, but Him that made me. I am fo much a Philofopher and a Chriftian, as freely to forgive my very worthy Friend for falling into the Ways of the fashionable World, in which his Ambition tempted him, and his Talents enabled him, to appear to Advantage; but had I been in his Cafe, and he in mine, I think I could never have forgiven myself such treacherous inhuman Behaviour to an open-hearted, undefigning Perfon, whom I had encouraged to depend upon my Affiftance, only that I might have an Opportunity to difappoint and betray him.

I