aversion to it. Whether it be the thing or action itself, or some discouraging circumstances that may attend it; or some disagreeable consequences that may possibly flow from it; or your supposed unfitness for it at present. Why, all these things may be only imaginary. And to neglect a plain and positive duty upon such considerations, shows that you are governed by appearances more than realities, by fancy more than reason, and by inclination more than conscience.

But let fancy muster up all the discouraging circumstances, and set them in the most formidable light, to bar your way to a supposed duty; for instance, It is very difficult, I want capacity; at least am so indisposed to it at present, that I shall make nothing of it; and then it will be attended with danger to my person, reputation, or peace; and the opposition I am like to meet with is great, &c.' But after all, is the call of Providence clear? is the thing a plain duty; such as reason, conscience, and scripture, your office, character, or personal engagements call upon you to discharge? If so, all the aforesaid objections are vain and delusive; and you have nothing to do but to summon your courage, and in dependence on divine help, to set about the business immediately and in good earnest, and in the best and wisest manner you can; and you may depend upon it, you will find the greatest difficulty to lie only in the first attempt; these frightful appearances to be all visionary, the mere figments of fancy, turning lambs into lions, and molehills into mountains ;-and that nothing but sloth, folly, and self-indulgence thus set your

imagination on work to deter you from a plain duty. Your heart would deceive, but you have found out the cheat; and do not be imposed upon 5.

Again, suppose the thing done; consider how it will look then. Take a view of it as past; and whatever pains it may cost you, think whether it will not be abundantly recompensed by the inward peace and pleasure which arise from a consciousness of having acted right. It certainly will. And the difficulties you now dread will enhance your future satisfaction 6. But think again how you will bear the reflections of your own mind if you wilfully neglect a plain and necessary duty; whether this will not occasion you much more trouble than all the pains you might be at in performing it. And a wise man will always determine himself by the end; or by such a retrospective view of things considered as past.

Again, on the other hand, if you find a strong propension to any particular action, examine that with the like impartiality. Perhaps it is what neither your reason nor conscience can fully approve. And yet every motive to it is strongly urged, and every objection against it slighted. Sense and appetite grow importunate and clamorous, and want to lead, while reason remonstrates in vain. But turn not aside from that faithful and friendly monitor, whilst with a low,

5 The wise and prudent conquer difficulties
By daring to attempt them. Sloth and folly
Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and danger,
And make the' impossibility they fear.

6

Rowe.

forsan et hæc olim meminisse juvabit.

Virg.

still voice, she addresses you in this soft but earnest language:- Hear me, I beseech you, but this one word more. The action is indeed out of character; what I shall never approve. The pleasure of it is a great deal overrated; you will certainly be disappointed. It is a false appearance that now deceives you. And what will you think of yourself when it is past, and you come to reflect seriously on the matter. Believe it, you will then wish you had taken me for your counsellor, instead of those enemies of mine, your lusts and passions, which have so often misled you, though you know I never did.'

Such short recollections as these, and a little leisure to take a view of the nature and consequences of things or actions, before we reject or approve them, will prevent much false judgment and bad conduct; and by degrees wear off the prejudices which fancy has affixed in the mind either for or against any particular action; teach us to distinguish between things and their appearances; strip them of those false colours that so often deceive us; correct the sallies of the imagination, and leave the reins in the hand of

reason.

Before I dismiss this head, I must observe that some of our strongest prejudices arise from an excessive self-esteem, or too great a complacency in our own good sense and understanding. Philautus in every thing shows himself well satisfied with his own wisdom: which makes him very impatient of contradiction, and gives him a distaste to all who shall presume to oppose their judgment to his in any thing. He had rather persevere in a mistake than retract it, lest his

judgment should suffer; not considering that his ingenuity and good sense suffer much more by such obstinacy. The fulness of his self-sufficiency makes him blind to those imperfections which every one can see in him but himself. So that, however wise, sincere, and friendly, however gentle and seasonable your remonstrance may be, he takes it immediately to proceed from ill nature or ignorance in you, but from no fault in him.

Seneca, I remember, tells us a remarkable story, which very well illustrates this matter. Writing to his friend Lucilius,' My wife' (says he) keeps Harpastes in her house still, who; you know, is a sort of family fool, and no small incumbrance upon us. For my part, I am far from taking any pleasure in such prodigies. If I have a mind to divert myself with a fool, I have not far to go for one; I can laugh at myself. This silly girl, all on a sudden, lost her eyesight; and (which perhaps may seem incredible, but it is very true) she does not know she is blind; but is every now and then desiring her governess to lead her abroad, saying the house is dark.-Now what we laugh at in this poor creature, you may observe happens to us all. No man knows that he is covetous or insatiable. Yet with this difference; the blind seek somebody to lead them, but we are content to wander without a guide.

-But why do we thus deceive ourselves? The disease is not without us, but fixed deep within. And therefore is the cure so difficult, because we do not know that we are sick.'

CHAP. X.

THE NECESSITY AND MEANS OF KNOWING OUR NATURAL TEMPER.

9. ANOTHER very important branch of selfknowledge is the knowledge of those governing passions or dispositions of the mind which generally form what we call a man's natural temper.

The difference of natural tempers seems to be chiefly owing to the different degrees of influence the several passions have upon the mind; e. g. If the passions are eager and soon raised, we say the man is of a warm temper: if more sluggish and slowly raised, he is of a cool temper: according as anger, malice, or ambition prevail, he is of a fierce, churlish, or haughty temper; the influence of the softer passions of love, pity, and benevolence forms a sweet, sympathising, and courteous temper; and when all the passions are duly poised, and the milder and pleasing ones prevail, they make what is commonly called a quiet, goodnatured man.

So that it is the prevalence or predominance of any particular passion which gives the turn or tincture to a man's temper, by which he is distinguished, and for which he is loved or esteemed, or shunned and despised by others.

Now what this is, those we converse with are soon sensible of. They presently see the fault of our temper, and order their behaviour accordingly. If they are wise and well mannered, they will avoid striking the string which they know will jar and raise a discord within us. If they