relieved the Diftreffed by fome well-placed SERM. X. Act of Charity; whether the Consciousness of having made an human Heart to fing for Joy, and the Bleffing of him that was ready to perish come upon him, did not impart a more liberal, manly, and unallayed Complacency, than all the cheating Blandishments and Allurements of Senfe. The latter are the Pleasures of the Brute; whereas the former are the Pleasures of the Man, shall I say? rather of good Angels, nay even of God, who, wanting nothing himself, supplies the Wants of every other Being. And what can more tranfport, what can more ennoble the Soul, than to be so temperate, as to have as few Wants as poffible in ourselves; and yet fo charitable as to do as much Good as poffible to others? A remarkable Inftance of this difinterested Virtue, and the fuperior Satisfaction that attends great and worthy Actions, we have in the generous Scipio, who, in the Bloom of Youth, returned his fair Captive, a Mafter-piece of Beauty, to her future Husband and Parents, whom Conqueft gave him an abfolute Right to, in the Opinion of the Heathen World. When he refufed a confiderable Sum of Gold, which was offered

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SERM. X. by the Parents; and when at last confenting to accept of it, at their repeated Inftances, he delivered it as a Part of her Dowry to her Spoufe; I defire to know, whether the Commendations, which his own Heart gave him, feconded with the Praises of an Hufband and Parents delivered from their jealous Apprehenfions, did not inspire him with a greater Exultation of Delight, than the Poffeffion of an injured Woman could have afforded. Their Praises were the fincere Tribute of grateful Hearts, and flowed from the Fulness of their Souls; and Nothing could be more acceptable to Scipio's ingenuous Mind, except the Consciousness of the Beauty of his own Action; whereas the Thoughts of wounding the Honour of a noble Family, and the Peace of aged Parents, must have dafhed his Enjoyments, and rendered them distasteful. This delicate Sentiment of Scipio was attended with much truer and more folid Satisfaction, than any fenfual Gratification could have been; it was the Pleasure of Reason, which will bear repeating in the Mind, and improves upon Reflection.

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On the contrary, where the grofs Affec- SERM. X. tions take Place, they leave little Room for Virtue; they tarnish the Luftre of the best Actions, and make a Man uneafy and difsatisfied with himself. For he that is good by Halves, labours under a perpetual Discord of Life; he is agitated alternately by Sentiments of unlawful Pleasure and Piety, and paffeth his Life in a perpetual Round of following and condemning the fame Things. On the one Hand, the Remainders of Virtue and Confcience embitter the Sweets of Vice; and, on the other Hand, the Practice of Vice palls the Relish of Virtue and spiritual Delights. He is neither Brute enough to indulge his Appetites without Remorfe, nor Man enough to govern them. Hence he is at perpetual Variance with himfelf, having juft Religion enough to make him uneafy, but not enough to make him happy.

A Man that is divided between Piety and Sin, is like One that lives on the Confines of two mighty contending States; his Breaft is a conftant Seat of War; and he is fometimes under the Dominion of Virtue, and sometimes under the Tyranny of Vice: whereas a Perfon of advanced Piety, VOL. I.

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like

SERM. X. like One that lives in the inmoft Part of

the Country, enjoys a fecure and unmolefted Situation of Soul.

Thus does Uneafiness haunt the Man, that, like a Perfon ftruck with the dead Palfy, is Part dead and Part alive; and thus it will disquiet him, 'till his Confcience becomes feared as it were with a hot Iron, and he thinks there is no Difference between Good and Evil; and to be perfuaded of this, is as difficult as to believe there is no God.

But to take a right Eftimate of a Man of Pleasure, we fhould view him in the last Stage of Life. Good God! how contemptible does he appear to the World, and I dare fay, even to himself, when he has no more that Sprightlinefs and outward Form, which raised the Admiration of the Unthinking; nor that Virtue and Knowledge, which is neceffary to gain the Esteem of the Wife. When young (however inconfiderate and inconfiderable in himself) he might be fancied for a pert Stupidity and a sprightly Impertinence; fome bright Sentence in Favour of Infidelity, or Piece of Ridicule in Contempt of Religion, might meet with the Applaufe of his ingenious Ac

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Acquaintance, who would be apt enough SERM. X. to ftare upon him with a foolish Face of Praife. But the Gaiety of Youth being gone off, he must wear out the Remainder of his Days undistinguished and neglected: not daring to be alone; abhorring his own Company; listless and uneafy at the prefent, he has no Pleasure in reflecting upon what is paft, nor in the Profpect of any Thing to

come.

t If he has an ample Fortune, Riches, it is true, may command an infipid Complaifance; a formal Homage and ceremonious Profeffions of Refpect: and teach a fervile World to speak a Language foreign to their Hearts. But where true Merit is wanting, Riches can never procure an affectionate Esteem, an undiffembled Love, the Tribute which Virtue alone can either expect or deserve.

Hence it is that Men of this Stamp are continually complaining, that the Times are much altered for the worse; because the Sprightliness of their Youth represented every Thing in the most engaging Light, and when People are pleafed with themfelves, they are apt to be fo with all around them; the Face of Nature brightens up, and

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