df^-1 » c^ « Tin?-//* K ' ■ Sr^lki ARMED FORCES MEDICAL LIBRARY Washington, D. C. '*■! F ^LO^ * • \ '/kfi^af^ d>Jk* «*-*€<_ ■w THE IMMORTAL MENTOR, OR, ^ MAN'S UNERRING GUIDE f TO A HEALTHY, WEALTHY, AND HAPPY LIFE. JN THREE PARTS. BY LEWIS CORNARO, Dr. FRANKLIN, AND Dr. SCOTT. " Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, " Lie in three words—health, peace, and competence. •• Blest health consists with temperance alone, " And peace, O virtue S peace is all thy own." Pope. CARLISLE, #V« PUBLISHED BV ALEXANDER MAGEE A.ND JOHN SCOTT. Printed at the Volunteer Office. 1815. CONTENTS. PART I. Page. Chapter I—Man's unerring Guide to a Long and Healthy Life. 5 II—The Method of Correcting a Bad Constitution 33 III—A Letter from Signior Lewis Cer- naro, to the Right Reverend Bar- bara, Patriarch of Aquileia • 45 IV—Of the Birth and Death of Man - 49 Appendix—Golden Rules of Health, selected from Hippocrates, Plutarch, and several other eminent Physicians and Philosophers - 63 PART II. Introduction 75 The Way to Wealth - 87 Advice to a Young Tradesman 100 PART III. Chap. I—A sure Guide to Happiness 107 II—On Social Love 177 THE IMMORTAL MENTOR, IT is an unhappiness into which the people of this age are fallen, that luxury is become fashionable and too generally preferred to frugality. Prodigality is now-a-days tricked up in the pompous titles of generosity and grandeur ; whilst blest frugality is too often branded as the badge of an avaricious and sordid spirit. This error has so far seduced us, as to prevail on many to renounce a frugal way of living, though taught by nature, and to indulge those excesses which serve only to abridge the number of our clays. We are grown old before we have been able to taste the pleasures of being young. And the time which ought to be the summer of our lives is often the be- gining of their winter. 2 6 IMMORTAL MENTOR. Oh unhappy Italy ! Dost thou not sec, that glut-. tony and excess rob thee, every year, of more inha- bitants than pestilence, war, and famine could have done ? Thy true plagues, are thy numerous luxu- ries in which thy deluded citizens indulge them- selves to an excess unworthy of the rational charac- ter, and utterly ruinous to their health. Put a stop to this fatal abuse,.for God's sake, for there is not, I am certain of it, a vice more abominable in the eyes of the Divine Majesty, nor any more destructive. How many have I seen cut off, in the flower of their dayfc by this unhappy custom of high feeding ! How many excellent friends has gluttony deprived me of, who, but for this accursed vice, might have been an ornament to the world, an honor to their country, end have afforded me as much joy in their lives, as I now feel concern at their deaths. In order, therefore, to put a stop to so great an evil, I have undertaken this little hook, and I at- tempt it the more readily, as many young gentlemen have requested it of me, moved thereto by seting their fathers d'op off' in the flower of their youth, and mc so sound and hearty at the age of eighty- one. They begged me to let th< m know by what means I attained to such excellent health and spirits at my time of life. I could not but think their cu- riosity very laudable, and "was willing to gratify IMMORTAL MENTOR. 7 them, and at the same time do some service to my countrymen, by declaring, in the first place, what led me to renounce intemperance and lead a tem- perate life ; secondly, by shewing the rules I ob- served ; and thirdly, what unspeakable satisfaction and advantage I derived from it; whence it may be very clearly seen how easy a thing it is for a wise man to escape all the curses of intemperance, and secure to himself the inestimable felicities of vigor- ous health and cheerful age. The first thing that led me to embrace a temper* ate life, was, the many and sore evils which I suffer- ed from the contrary course of living; my constitu- tion was naturally weakly and delicate, which ought in reason to have made me more regular and pru- dent, but being like most young men, too fond of what is usually called good eating and drinking, I gave the rein to my appetites. In a little time I be- gan to feel the ill effects of such intemperance ; for I had scarce attained to my thirty-fifth year, before I was attacked with a complication of disorders, such as head-achs, a sicks iiiach cholicky uneasiness, the gout,rhium tic p ins, lingering leve.s,aid con- tinual thirst; and though I was then but in the middle of my days, my constitution seemed so entirely ru- ined that 1 could hardly hope for any other termina- tion to my sufferings but death, 8 IMMORTAL MENTOR. The best physicians in Italy employed all their skl.l in my behalf, but to no effect. At last they told me, very candidly, that there was but one thing that could afford me a single ray of hope, but one medicine that could give a radical cure, viz. the immediate adoption of a temperate and regular life. They added moreover, that, now, I had no time to lose, that I must immediately, either chuse a regimen or death, and that if I deferred their advice much longer, it would be too late for ever to do it. This was a home thrust. I could not bear the thoughts of dying so soon, and being convinced of their abilities and experience, I thought the wisest course I could take, would be to follow their advice, how disagreeable soever it might seem. I then requested my physicians to tell me exact- ly after what manner I ought to govern myself? To this they replied, that I should always consider myself as an infirm person; eat nothing but what agreed with me, and that in small quantity. I then immediately entered on this new course of life, and, with so determined a resolution, that nothing has been since able to divert me from it. In a few days I perceived that this new way of living agreed very well with me ; and in less than a twelve-month I had the unspeakable happiness to find that all my IMMORTAL MENTOR. 9 late alarming symptoms were vanished, and, that I was perfectly restored to health. No sooner had I began to taste the sweets of this new resurrection, but I made many very pleasing reflections on the great advantage of temperance, and thought within myself, " if this virtue has had so divine an efficacy, as to cure me of such griev- ous disorders, surely it will help my badr constitu- tion and confirm my health." I therefore applied myself diligently to discover what kinds of food were properest for me, and made c! oice of such meats and drinks only as agreed with my constitu- tion, observing it as an inviolable law with myself, aluays te rise with an afifietite to eat mere if I pleas- ed. In a word, I entirely renounced intempe- rance, and made a vow to continue the remainder of my life under the same regimen I had observed : A happy resolution this ! The keeping of which entirely cured me of all my infirmities. I never before lived a year together, without falling once, at least, into some violent illness; but this nev? useful pursuit, such as, my devotions, my book, music, Sec. But to return.—Besides the two fuicgoing impor- tant rules about eating and drinking, that is, not to take of any thing, but as much as my stomach could easily digest, and to use those things only which agreed with me. I have very carefully a- ^roided 9.W extremes of heat and cold, excessive fa- tigue, interruption of my usual time of rest, late hours, and too close and intense thinking. I am likewise greatly indebted for the excellent health I enjoy, to that calm and temperate state in which I have been careful to keep my passions. The influence of the passions on the nerves, and health of our bodies, is so great, that none can pos- IMMORTAL MENTOR. 11 sibly be ignorant of it. He therefore who seriously wishes to enjoy good health, must, above all things, learn to conquer his passions, and keep them in subjection to reason. For let a man be never so temperate in diet, or regular in exercise, yet still some unhappy passion, if indulged to ex- cess, will prevail over all his regularity, and pre- vent the good effects of his temperance ; no words, therefore, can adequately express the wisdom of guarding against an influence so destructive. Fear, anger, grief, envy, hatred, malice, revenge and despair, are known by eternal experience, to weak* en the nerves, disorder the circulation, impair di- gestion, and often to bring on a long train of hyste- rical and hypochondriacal disorders ; and extreme sudden fright, has often occasioned immediate death. On the other hand, moderate joy, and all those affections of the mind which partake of its nature, as cheerfulness, contentment, hope, virtuous and mutual love, and courage in doing good, invigor- ate the nerves, give a healthy motion to the fluids, promote perspiration, and assist digestion; but violent anger (which differs from madness only in duration) throws the whole frame into tempest and convulsion, the countenance blackens, the eyes glare, the mouth foams, and in place of tCe most i« IMMORTAL MENTOK gentle and amrable, it makes a man the most fright- ful and terrible of all animals. The effects of this dreadful passion do not stop here ; it never fails t» create bilious, inflammatory, convulsive, and some times apoplectic disorders, and sudden death. Solomon was thoroughly sensible of the destruc- tive tendencies of ungoverned passions, and has* in many places, cautioned us against them. He emphatically styles " envy, a rottenness of the bones;" and says, that " wrath slayeth the angry man, and envy killeth the silly one*;" and, "that * The reader will I hope excuse me fov relating the fol- lowing' tragical anecdote, to confirm what the benevolent Cornaro has said on the baneful effects of envy, &c. In the city of York in England, there died some time ago a young lady by the name of D-----—n. For five years be- fore her death, she appeared to be lingering and melancho- ly. Her flesh withered away, her appetite decayed, her strength failed, her feet could no longer sustain her totter- ing emaciated body, and her dissolution seemed at hand. One day she called her intimate friends to her bed-side, and as well as she could, spoke to the following effect: " I know you all pity me, but alas ! I am not w orthy of your pity; for all my miseiv is entirely owing to the wickedness of my own heart. I have two sist>r< ; and I have all my life been unhappy, for no other reason but be- IMMORTAL MENTOR. IS the wicked shall not live out half their days.** For as violent gales of wind will soon wreck the strongest ships, so violent passions of hatred, anger, and sorrow, will soon destroy the best constitu- tions. However, I must confess to my shame, that I have not been at all times so much of a philosopher and Christian, as entirely to avoid these disorders : but I have reaped the benefit of knowing by my cause of their prosperity. When we were young, I could neither eat nor sleep in comfort, if they had either praise or pleasure. As soon as they were grown to be women, they married greatly to their advantage and satisfaction : this galled me to the very heart; and though I had several good offers, yet thinking them rather unequal to my sisters, I refused them, and then was inwardly vexed and distress J ed, for foar I should get no better. I never wanted for any thing, and might have been very happy, butfor this.wretch- ed temper. My sisters loved me tenderly, for 1 concealed from them as much as possible this odious passion, and yet never did anv poor wretch lead so miserable a life as I have done, for every blessing they enjoyed was a dagger to my heart. 'Tis this Envy, which, preying on my very vita'?, has ruined my hea'th, and is now carrying me down to the grave. Tray for me, that Gcd of his infinite mercy may for- give me this horrid sin ; and with my dying breath I conjure you all, to chcrk the first risings of a passion that has pror- cd so fatal t<» n»e." 14 IMMORTAL MENTOR. own repeated experience, that these malignant pas- sions have in general a far less pernicious eftectoo bodies that are rendered firm and vigorous by tem- perance, than on those that are corrupted and weak- ened by gluttony and excess. It was hard for me to avoid every extreme of heat and cold, and to live above all the occasions of trouble which attended the life of man ; but yet these things made no great impression on the state of my health, though I met with many instances of persons who sunk under less weight of body and mind. There was in our family a considerable lawsuit depending against some persons, whose might over- came our right. One of my brothers, and some of my relations, were so mortified and grieved on ac- count of the loss of this suit, that they actually died ef broken hearts I was as sensible as they cou'd be, ©f the great injustice done us, but thank God, so far from breaking my heart, it scarcely broke my re- pose. And I ascribe their sufferings and my safety, to the difference of our living. Intemperance and 9loth had so weakened their nerves, and broken their spirits, that they easily sunk under the weight of misfortune. While temperance and active life had so invigorated my constitution, as to make me hap- pily superior to the evils of this momentary life. lftnt«"^AT, MENTOR. 13 At seventy years of age, I had anotherexperiment • f ■ i's»luiness of my regimen. Some business of < onsequt nee caliiog me into the country, my eoach horses ran away with me ; I was overset and dragged a long way before they could stop the hor- ses. They took me out of the coach with my head battered, a leg and an arm out of joint, and truly in a very lamentable condition. As soon as they had brought me home, they sent for the physicians, who did noi expect I could live three days : however, I was soon cured, to the great astonishment of the physicians, and of all those who know me. I beg leave to relate one more anecdote, as an ad- ditional proof what an impenetrable shield temper- ance presents against the evils of life. About five years ago, I was over-persuaded to & thing, which had like to have cost me dear. My relations, whom I love, and who have a real tender- ness tor me ; my friends, with whom I was willing te comply in any thing that vras reasonable; lastly, my physicians, who were looked upon as the oracles of health, did all agree that I eat too little ; that the nourishment I took was not sufficient forcne of my years ; that I ought not only to support nature, but likewise to increase the vigor'of it, by eating a little more than I did. It was in vain for me to represent 16 IMMORTAL MENTOR. to them, that nature is content with a little ; that with this little I had enjoyed excellent health s© many yevirs; that to me the habit of it was become a second nature; and that it wai more agreeable to reason, that as I advanced in years and lost my strength, I should rather lessen than increate the quantity of my food, especially as the powers of the stomach must grow weaker from year to year. To strengthen my arguments, I urged those two natural and true proverbs; one, that he who would eat a great deal must cat but little ; that is, eating little makes a man live long, and, of course, he must eat a great deal. The other proverb was, that what w« leave, after making a hearty meal, does us more good than what we have eaten. But neither my proverbs ror arguments could silence their affec- tionate intreaties. Wherefore to please persons who were so dear to me, I consented to increase the quantity of food, but with two ounces only. So that, as before I had always taken but twelve ounces of solid food in the day, I now increased it to four- teen, and as before I. drank but fourteen ounces of wine in the day, I now increased it to sixteen. This increase had in eight days time such an effect on me, that from being remarkably cheerful and brisk, I began to be peevish and melancholy, and was constantly so stiangely disposed, that 1 nei- ther knew what to say to others, nor what to do IMMORTAL MLNT6R. 1/ with myself. On the twelfth day I was attacked with a most violent pain in my side, which held me twenty-two hours, and was followed by a violtnt fever which continued thirty-five days, without giv- ing me a mo nent's respite. However, God be praised, I recovered, though in my seventy-eighth year, an., in the coldest season of a very cold winter, and reduced to a mere skeleton ; and I am positive, that, next to God, I am most indebted to tempe- rance, for my recovery. O how great is the evil of intemperance, which could, in a few days bring on me so severe an illness, and how glorious are the virtues of temperance which could thus bear me up, and snat< h me from the jaws of death ! Wouid all men but live regulailyand temperately, there would not be a tenth of that sickness which now makes so many melancholy families, nor any occa- sion for a tenth part of those nauseous medicines, which they are now obliged to swallow in order to carry off those bad humors with which they have filed their bodies ^y over-eating and drinking. To say the truth, would every one of us but pay a be- coming attention to the quantity and quality of what he eats and drinks, and carefully observe the effects it has upon him, he would soon become his own physician ; and indeed the very best he could possi- bly have, for people's constitutions are as different as their faces; and it is impossible, in very impor- 3 18 IMMORTAL MENTOR. tant instances, for the most skilful physicians to tell a man of observation, what would agree with his constitution so well as he knows himself. I am willing to allow that a physician may be sometimes necessary ; and in cases of danger, the sooner the better. But for the bare purpose of preserving our- selves in good health, there needs no better physic than a temperate and regular life. Tt it a specific and natural medicine, which preserves the man, how tender soever his constitution be, and prolongs his life to above a hundred years, spares him the pain of a violent death, sends him quietly out of the w r d, when the radical moisture is quite spent, and which, in short, has all the properties that are fan- cied to be in potable gold, which a great many per- sons have sought after in vain. But alas! most men suffer themselves to be se- duced by the charms of a voluptuous life. They have not courage enough to deny their appetites ; and being over-persuaded by their inclinations so far, as to think they cannot give up the gratification of them, without abridging too much of their plea- sures, they devise arguments to persuade them- selves, that it is more eligible to live ten years less, than to be upon the restraint, and deprived of what- ever may gratify their appetites. Alas! they know not the value often years of healthy life, in an age IMMORTAL MENTOR. 19 when a man may enjoy the full use of his reason, and turn all his wisdom and experience to his own, and the advantage of the world. To instance only in the sciences. 'Tis certain that some of the most valuable books now extant, were written in those last ten years of their authors lives, which some men pretend to undervalue; let fools and villains un- dervalue life, the world would lose nothing by them, die when they will. But it is a loss indeed,- when wise and good men drop into the grave ; ten years of life to men of that character, might prove an in- estimable blessing to their families and country. Is such an one a priest only, in a little time he might become a bishop, and by living ten years longer, might render the most important services to the world by his active dissemination of virtue and pie- ty. Is he the aged parent of a family, then though no longer equal to the toils of younger years, yet by his venerable presence and matured counsels, I.e may contribute more to the harmony and happiness of his children, than all their labours put together. And so with all others, whether in church or state, army or navy, who are advanced in years, though not equal to the active exercises of youth, yet in consequence of their superior wisdom and experi- ences, their lives may he of more service to then- country, than the hv s of thousands of citizens. Some, I know, are to unreasonable as to say that it 30 iuMOUTAL MENTOR. is impossible to lead such, a regular life. To this I answer, Galen, that great physician, led such a I iff, and advised others to it as the best physic. l?laco, Cicero, I&ocrates, <\vi\ a great many famous :ncn of past and present times, have practised it. and thereby arrived to an extreme old age. You will tell me that Plato, as sober a man as he was, yet affirmed, that it is difficult for a man in public life to live so temperately, being often in the service of the state, exposed to the badness of wea« tlrer, to the fatigues of travelling, and to eat what- ever he can meet with. This cannot be denied ; but then I. maintain, that these things will never hasten a man's death, provided he accustoms him* self to a frugal way of living. There is no man, In what condition soever, but may keep from over- eating; and thereby happily prevent those disorders that are caused by excess. They who have the charge of public affairs committed to their trust, are more obliged to it than any others: where there is no glory to be got for their country, they ought not to sacrifice themselves : they should preserve themselves to serve it; and if they pursue my me- thod, it is certain they would ward off the distem- pers which heat and cold and fatigues might bring upon them; or should thev be disturbed with them it would be but very lightly. rM MORTAL MF.XTOR. 21 It may likewise be objected, that if one who w well, is dieted like one that is sick, he will be at a loss about the choice of his diet, when any distem- per comes upon him. To this I say, that nature, ever attentive to the preservation of her children, teaches us how we ought to govern ourselves in such a case. She begins by depriving us so entire- ly of our appetites, that we can eat little or nothing, At that time, whether the sick person has been so- ber or intemperate, no other food ought to be used, but such as is proper for his condition ; such as broth, jellies, cordials, barley-water, &c. When his recovery will permit him to use a more solid nour- ishment, he must take less than he was used to be- fore his sickness ; and notwithstanding the eager- ness of his appetite, he must take care of his sto- mach, till he is perfectly cured Should he do otherwise, he would overburden nature, and infalli- bly relapse into the danger he had escaped. But notwithstanding this, I dare aver, that he who leads a sober and regular life, will hardly ever be sick; or but seldom, and for a short time. This way of liv- ing preserves us from those bad humours which occasion onr infirmities, and by consequence heals us of all those distempers which they occasion. I do not pretend to say that every body must eat ex- actly as little as I do, or abstain from fruit, fish, and other things from which 1 abstain, because such 3* 22 IMMORT\L MENTOR. dishes disagree wiih me. They who are not disor- dered by such dishes, are under no obligation to abstain from them. But they are under the greatest obligations to feed moderately, even on the most innocent food, since an overloaded stomach cannot digest. It signifies nothing to tell me that there are seve- ral, who, though they live very irregularly, yet en- joy excellent health and spirits, and to as advanced an age, as those who live ever so soberly. For this argument is founded on such uncertainty and ha- zard, and oceurs so seldom, as to look more like a miracle than the regular work of nature. And t iose, who, on the credit of their youth and consti- tion, will pay any .regard to so idle an objection, may depend on it, that they are the betrayers and ruiners of their own health. And I can confidently and truly affirm, that an old man, even of a bad constitution, who leads a regular and sober life, is surer of a longer one, than a young man of the best constitution who lives disorderly, AH therefore who have a mind to live long and healthy, and die without sickness of body or mind, must immediately begin to live temperately, fop such a regularity keeps the humours of the bony mild and sweet, and suffers no gross fiery vapors to IMMORTAL MENTOR. & ascend from the stomach to the head ; hence the brain of him who lives in that manner enjoys such a constant serenity, that he is always perfectly master of himself. Happily freed from the tyranny of bodily appetites and passions, he easily soars above, to the ex.tlted and delightful contemplation of heavenly objects; by this means his mind becomes gradually enlightened with divine truth, and expands itself to the glorious enrapturing view of the Power, Wis- dom and Goodness of the Almighty—He then de- scends to nature, and acknowledges her for thu fair daughter of God, and views her varied charms with sentiments of admiration, joy, and gratitude, becom- ing the most favoured of all sublunary beings. He then clearly discerns, and generously laments the wretched fate of those who will not give themselves the trouble to subdue their passions; and those* three most ensnaring lusts, the lust of the flesh, the lust of honours, and the lust of riches, which all wise and good men have firmly opposed and con- quered, when they passed through this mortal state; for knowing such passions to be inconsistent with reason and happiness, they at once nobly broke through their snares, and applied themselves to virtue and good works, and so became men of good and sober lives. And when in process of time, and after a long series of years, they see the period of their days drawing nigh, they are neither grieved ?l iMMORT VL MFtfTOR. nor alarmed Ful. of acknowledgements tor the fa- vors alreauy received from God, they throw n.cm- scives into the arm of his future mercy. Tiny are not afraid of t osc dreadful punishments, which they deserve who have shortened their days by guilty intemperance. They die without com- plaining, sensible that they did not come into this World to stay for ever, but are pilgrims and travel- lers to a far better. Exulting in thi- faith, and with hopes big with immortality, they go down to the graVv- in a good old age, enriched with virtues and laden with honours. And they have the greater reason not to be de- ^ jected at the thought of death, as they know it will Slrtk be violent, feverish or painful. Their end is caHTh, and they expire, like a lamp when the oil is spent, without convulsion or agony, and so they pass gently away, without pain or sickness, from this earthly and corruptible, to that ctlestial and eternal life, whose happiness is the reward of the virtuous. O holy, happy, and thrice blessed temperance ? how worthy art thou of our highest esteem » and how infinitely art thou preferable to an irregular and disorderly life » Nay, wou-ld men but consider the effects and Consequences of both, they would IMMORTAL MENTOR. 25 immediately see, that there is as wide a difference between them, as there is betwixt light and dark- ness, heaven and hell. Some there are that tell us that old age is no blessing, that when a man is past seventy, his life is nothing but weakness, infirmity, and misery. But I can assure these gentlemen, they are mightily mistaken ; and that I find myself, old as I am, (which is much beyond what they speak of) to be the most pleasant and delightful stage of life. To prove that I have reason for what I say, they need only enquire how I spend my time, what are my usual employments ; and to hear the testimony of all that know me. They unanimously testify, that the life I lead, is not a dead and languishing life, but as happy a one as can be wished for in this world. They will tell you, that I am still so strong at fourscore and three, as ^to mount a horse without any help or advantage of situation ; that I cannot only go up a single flight of stairs, but climb a hill from bottom to top, afoot, and with the greatest ease ; that I am always merry, always pleased, always in humor; maintaining a happy peace in my own mind, the weetness-and serenity whereof appear at all times in my countenance. ~6 IMMORTAL MENTOR. Besides, they know thaf it is in my power to pass away the time very pleasantly ; having nothing to hinder me from tasting all the pleasures of an agreeable society, with several persons of parts and worth. When I am willing to be alone, I read good books, and sometimes fail t© writing ; seek- ing always an occasion of being useful to the public, and doing service to private persons, as far as pos- sible. I do all this without the least trouble ; and in such times as I set apart for these employments, I dwell in a house, which, besides its being situ- ated in the pleasantest part of Padua, may be look- ed on as the most convenient and agreeable man- sion in that city I there make me apartments pro- per for the winter and summer, which serve as a shelter to defend me from the extreme heat of the one, and the rigid coldness of the other. I walkout in my gardens, alpng my canals and walks ; where I always meet with some, little thing or other to do, which, at the same time, Employs and amuses me. I spend the months of Jpril, M'ty, September, and October, at my country-house, which is the finest situation imaginable : the air of it is goo', the avenues neat, the gardens magnificent, the v. • ters clear and plentiful; and this seat may well pass for an inchauled paia.ee. 1MMOKTAL MENTOR. 27 Somc'imcs T take a walk to my Villa, all whose streets ttrminatt at a large square ; in the midst of which is a pret'y m at church, and large enough for the bigness ol the paush. Through this Villa runs a rivulet; snd the coun- try about it is enriched with fruitful and welj. cul- tivated fields ; having at present a considerable number of inhabitants. This was not so for- mi rly : It was a marshy place, and the air so un- wholesome, that it was more pr< per for frogs and toads, than for men to dwell in. But on my drain. ingoffthe waters, the air mended, and people, icsortcdtoit so fast, as to render the place very populous ; so that I m.y, with truth, say, that I have here dedicated to the Lord, a church, altars, and hearts to worship him ; a circumstance this, which affords me infinite satisfaction as often as I reflect on it, It is with great satisfaction that I see the end of work of such importance to this state, I mean that of draining and improving so many large tracts of uncultivated ground, a work which I never ex- pected to have seen completed ; but, thank God,. I have lived to see it, and was even in person in these marshy places, along with the commissaries, for two months together, during the heats of sum- 58 IMMORTAL MENTOR. mer, without ever finding myself the worse for the fatigues I underwent. Of such wonderful efficacy is that temperate life which 1 constantly observe. If in discoursing on so important a subject as this, it be allowable to speak of tiifles, I might tell you, that at the age of fourscore and three, a temperate life had preset veel me in that spr ght- iiness of thought, and gaiety of humour, as to be *ble to compose a very entertaining comedy, high- ly moral and instructive, without shocking or dis- gusting the audience ; an evil too generally attend- ing our comedies, and which it is the duty, and will be the eternal honor of the magistracy to discountenance and suppress, sinse nothing has a more fatal tendency to corrupt the morals of youth, than such plays as abound with wanton allusions, and wicked sneers and scoffs on religion and ma- trimony. As an addition to my happiness, I see myself immortalized, as it were, by the great number of my descendants. I meet with, in my return home not only two or three, but eleven grand-children, all blest with high health, sweet dispositions, bright parts, and of promising hopes. I take a delight in playing with tl e little prattlers ; those w!<> are older I often set to sing and play for me on instru- IMMORTAL MENTOR. 29 uients or music—Call you this an infirm crazy old age, as they pretend, who say, that a man is but half alive after he is seventy ? They may believe me if they please, but really 1 would not exchange my serene cheerful old age, with any one of those young men, even of the best constitution, who give the loose to their appetites ; knowing as I do, that they are thereby subjecting themselves every mo- ment to disease and death. I remember all the follies of which I was guilty in 1117 younger days, and am perfectly sensible qf the many and great dangers they exposed me to I know with what violence young persons are car- ried away by the heat of their blood. They pre- sume on • heir strength, just as if they had taken a sure lease of their lives: and must gratify their appetites whatever it cost them, without consider- ing that they thereby feed those ill humours, which do most assuredly hasten the approach of sickness and death ; two evils, which of all others are the most unwelcome and terrible to the wicked. The first of these, sickness, is highly unwelcome, be- cause it effectually stops their career after this w rl 's business and pleasures, which being their sole delight and.happiness, must be inexpressibly 8 d a id mortilying. And the impatience and gloom of sickness is rendtre ; teniold ;uore insupportable 4 50 IMMORTAL MENTOR. to them, because it finds them utterly destitute of those pious affections, which alone cun soothe the severity of sickness and charm the pangs of pain. They had never cultivated an acquaintance with God, nor accustomed themselves to look up to him as to a merciful Father, who sends affliction to wean us from this scene of vanity. They had never, by prayers ano good works, endeavoured to secure his friendship, or cherish that love which would make his dispensations welcome. So that unblest with these divine consolations, the season o' sickness must be dark and melancholy indeed ; and besides all this, their hearts often sink within them at the prospect of death, that ghastly king of terrors, who comes to cut them off from all their dear delights in this world, and send their unwilling souls to suffer the punishment which their own guilty conscience tells them is due to their wicked lives. But from those two evils, so dreadful to many, blessed be God, I have but little to fear ; as fop Death, I have a joyful hope that that change, , come when it may, will be gloriously for the better; and besides, I trust, that He whose divine voice I have so long obeyed, will graciously support and comfort his aged servant in that trying hour. And for Sickness, I feel but little apprehension on IMMORTAL MENTOR. 31 that account, since by my divine medicine tempe- rance, I have removed all the causes of hlness; so that I am pretty sure I shall never be sick, ex- cept it be from some intent of Divine mercy, and then I hope I shall bear it without a murmur, and find it for my good. Nay, I have reason to think that my soul has so agreeable a dwelling in my body, finding nothing in it but peace and harmony between my reason and senses, that she is very well pleased with her present situation ; so that I trust I have still a great many years to live in health and in spirits, and enjoy this beautiful world, which is in- deed beautiful to those who know how to make it so, as I have done, and likewise expect (with God's as- sistance) to be able to do in the next. Now since a regular life is so happy, and its blessings so permanent and great, all I have still left to do, (since I cannot accomplish my wishes by force) is to beseech every man of sound understand- ing to embrace, with open arms, this most valuable treasure of a long and healthy life; a treasure which, as it far exceeds all the riches of this world, so it deserves above all things to be diligently sought after, and carefully preserved. This is that divine sobriety, so agreeable to Deity, the friend of nature, the daughter of reason, and the sister of all the v i'tues. From her, as from their proper root, spring 32 IMMORTAL MENTOR. life, health, cheerfulness, industry, learning, ^nd all those employments worthy of noble and generous minds She is the best friend and safest guardian of life; as well of the rich as of the poor; oftheold as of the young. She teaches the rich modesty ; the poor frugality ; men continence; women chastity; the old, how to ward off the attacks of death ; and bestows on youth, firmer and securer hopes of life. She preserves the senses clear, the body light, the understanding lively, the soul brisk, the memory tenacious, our motions free, and all our faculties in 5. pleasing and agreeable harmony. O most innocent and divine sobriety! the solo refreshment of nature, the nursing mother of life, the true physic of soul as well as of body. How ought men to praise thee for thy princely gifts, for thy incomparible blessings ! But as no man is able to write a sufficient panegyric on this rare and ex- cellent virtue, I shall put an end to this discourse, lest 1 should be charged with excess in dwelling so long on so pleasing a subject. Yet as numberless things may still be said of it, I leave off with an in- tention to set forth the rest of its praises at a more convenient opportunity. CHAPTER II. method of correcting a bad constitution^ I was born with a very choleric, hasty disposition; flew into a passion for the least trifle, huffed every body about me, and was so intolerably disagreeable, that many persons of gentle manners absolutely shunned my company. On discovering how great an injury I was doing myself, I at once resolved to make this vile temper give way to reason. I con- sidered that a man overcome by passion, must at times be no better than a madman, and that the only difference between a passionate man and a madman is, that the one has lost his reason fotever, and the other is deprived of il by fits only; but that in one of these, though never so short, he may do some deed of cruelty or death, that will ruin his charac- ter,, and destroy his peace./or ever. A sober life, by cooling the fever of the blood, contributed much to cure me of this phrenzy; and I am now become so moderate, and so much master of my passion, that nobody could perceive that it was born with me. 4* J4 IMMORTAL MENTOR. It is true indeed, the most temperate may some- times be indisposed, but then they have the plea- sure to think that it is not the effect of" their own vi- ces; that it will be but moderate in its degree, and of short continuance. Many have said to me, « How can you, when at a table covered with a dozen delicious dishes, content yourself with one dish, and that the plainest too at the table ? It must surely be a gvcat mortification to you, to see so many charming things before you, and yet scarcely taste them." This question has frequently been put to me, and with an air of sur- prize. I confess it has often made me unhappy; for it proves that such persons have got to such a pass, as to look on the gratification of their appetites as the highest happiness, not considering that the mind is properly the man, and that it is in the affec- tions of a virtuous and pious mind, a man is to look for the truest and highest happiness. When I sit down, with my eleven grand-children, to a table covered with various dainties, of which, for the sake of a light easy stomach, I may not, at times, chuse to partake, yet this is no mortification to me; en the contrary, I* often find myself most happy at these times. How can it otherwise than give me great delight, when I think of that goodness of God, which blesses the earth with such immense IMMORTAL MENTOR. #5 r.'ores of good things for the use of mankind ; 'and which, over and above all this goodness, has put me into the way of getting such an abundance of them for my dear grand-children; and besides, must it not make me very happy to think that I have gotten such a mastery over myself as never to abuse any of those good things, but am perfectly contented with such a portion of them as keeps me always in good health. O what a triumph of joy is this to my heart! What a sad thing it is that young people will not take instruction, nor get benefit from those who are older and wiser than themselves ' 1 may use, in this manner, the words okthe wise man: " I have seen arl things that are done under the sun." I know the pleasures of eating, and I know the joys of a virtuous mind, and can say from long experience, that one excelleth the other as far as light excel- leth darkness ; the one are the. pleasures of a mere animal> the other those of an angel. Some are so thoughtless as to say, that they had rather be afflicted twice or thrice ,a».year with the gout, and other distempers, than deny themselves the pleasure of eating and drinking to the full of such things as they like; that for their part they had rather eat and drink as they like,, though it should shorten their lives, that is, «* give them a short life and a merry one." It is really a surprising 36 IMMORT\L MENTOR. andaarf thing, so see reasonable creatures, so ready to swallow the most dangerous absurdities. For how, in the name of common sense, can the life of a glutton or a sot be a merry one ? If men could cat to excess, drink to silliness, and rust to sloth, and after all, suffer no other harm than the abridgement of ten or a dozen years of life, they might have some little excuse for calling it a merry life, though surely it rould appear so to none but persons of a sadly vitiated taste. But since an intemperate life will assuredly sow in our bodies the seeds of such diseases as will after a few short years of feverish pleasure, make life a burthen to us, with what face can any reasonable being call this a merry life ? O sacred and most bountiful Temperance ! how greatly am I indebted to thee for rescuing me from such fatal delusions; and for bringing me, through the divine benediction, to the enjoyment of so many felicities, and which, over and above all these favors Conferred on thine old m?n, hast so strengthened his stomach, that he has now a better relish for his dry bread, than he had formerly for the most exquisite dainties, so that, by eating little, my stomach is often craving after the manna, which I sometimes feast on with so much pleasure, that 1 should think I trespassed on the duty of temperance, did I not iMMORTAL MENTOR. 37 ;fcnow that one must eat to support life; and that one wnnot use a plainer or more natural diet. My spirits are not injured by what I eat, they are only revived and supported by it. I can, immedi- ately on rising from table, set myself to write or study, and never find that this application, though so hurtful to hearty feeders, does me any harm ; and, besides, I never find myself drowsy after din- ner, as a great many do;—the reason is, 1 Feed so temperately, as never to load my stomach nor oppress my nerves, so that I am always as light, active, and cheerful after meals as before. O thou vile wicked Intemperance, my sworn enemy, who art good for nothing but to murder those who follow thee ; how many of my dearest friends hast thou robbed me of, in consequence of their not be'ieving me \ But thou hast not been able to destroy me according to thy wicked intent and purpose. I am still alive in spite of thee, and have attained to such an age, as to sec around me eleven dear grand-chi dren, all of fine understandings and amiable dispositions, all given to learning and vir- tue ; all beautiful in their persons and lovely in their manners, whom, had I not abandoned thee thoa infamous source of corruption, I should never have kad the pleasure to behold. Nor should I enjoy ,38 IMMORT\L MENTOR. those beautiful and convenient apartments which I have built from the ground, with such highly im- proved gardens, as required no small time to attain their present pelfection. No, thou accursed hag, thy nature is to impoverish and destroy those wh« follow thee. How many wretched orphans have I seen embracing dunghills ; how many miserable mothers, with their helpless infants, crying for bread, while their deluded fathers, slaves to thy devouring lusts, were wasting their substance in rioting and drunkenness ! But thou art not content with consuming the sub- stance, thou wouldest destroy the very families of those who are so mad as to obey thee. The tem- perate poor man who labours hard all clay, can boast a numerous family of rosy cheeked children, while thy pampered slaves, sunk in ease and luxury, •ften languish without an heir to their ample for- tunes. But since thou art so pestilential a vice, as to poison and destroy the greatest part of mankind, I am determined to use my utmost endeavours to extirpate thee, at least in part. And I promise myself, that my dear grand-children will declare eternal war against thee, and following my example, will let the world see the blessedness of a temperate hfe, and so expose thee, O cruel intemperance ! IMMORTAL MENTOR. 39 fbr what thou really art, a most wicked, desperate, and mortal enemy of the children of men. It is really a very surprising and sad thing to sec persons grown to men's estate, and of fine wit, yet unable to govern their appetites, but tamely submitting to be dragged by them into such exces- ses of eating and drinking, as not only to ruin the best constitutions, and shorten their lives, but eclipse the lustre of the brightest parts, and bury themselves in utter contempt and uselessness. 0 what promising hopes have been shipwrecked, what immortal honors have been sacrificed at the shrine of low sensuality ! Happy, thrice happy, those who have early been inured to the habits of self-denial, and taught to consider the gratification of their appetites as the unfailing source of disease and death. Yc generous parents who long to see. your children adoined with virtue, and beloved as the benefactors of their kind ; O teach them the unspeakable worth oi self-government. Unsupport- ed by this, every advantage of education and oppor- tunity will avail them but little: though the history of ancient worthies, and the recital of their iliustri- eus deeds, may at times kindle up in tin r bosoms a flame of glorious emulation, yet ales ! this gl»w of coveted virtue, this fiusii oi promised honor, is 41 IMM6RTAL MENT6R. transient as a gleam of > spread and obscured by ality. inter sunshine; soon eveir the dark clouds oi scnstfr CHAPTER III. A LETTER JR0M SIGNIOR LEWIS CORNARO TO THE RIGHT REVEREND BARBARO, PATRIARCH 0* AqUlLEIA. My Lord, WHAT thanks do we not owe to the divine goodness, for this wonderful invention of writing, whereby we can easily communicate to our absent friends, whatever may afford them pleasure or im- provement I By means of this most welcome con- trivance, I shall now endeavour to entertain you with matters of the greatest moment. It is true in- deed, that what I have to tell you is no news,—but I never told it you at the age of ninety-one. Is it not a charming thing, that I am able to tell you, t it my health and strength are in so excellent a state, that, instead of diminishing with my age, they seein to increase as I grow old ? All my a< q tain- tance are surprised at it; but I, who know the 5 ,„ IMMORTAL MENTOR. cause of this singular happiness, do every where declare it. I endeavour, as much as in me lies, to convince all mankind, that a man may enjoy a pa- radise on earth even after the age of four score. Now my lord, I must tell you, that within these few days past, several learned Doctors of this Uni- versity came to be informed by me, of the method I take in my diet, having understood that I am still healthful and strong ; that I have my senses per- fect ; that my memory, my heart, my judgment, the tone of my voice, and my teeth, are all as sound as in my youth ; that I write seven or eight hours a day, and spend the rest of the day in walking out a-foot, and in taking all the innocent pleasures that ar allowed to a virtuous man ; even music itself, in which I bear my part. Ah, Sir J how sweet a voice would you perceive mine to be, were you to hear me, like another David, chant forth the praises of God to the sound of my Lyre ! You would certainly be surprised and charmed with the harmony which I make. Those gentlemen particularly admired, with what easiness I write on subjects that require both judg- ment and spirit- IMMORTAL MENTOR. 43 They told me, that I ought not to be looked on as an old man, since all my employments were such as were proper for a youth, and did by no means resemble the works of men advanced in years ; who are capable of doing nothing after fourscore, but loaded with infirmities and distempers, are perpe- tually languishing in pain, not half so cheerful, pleasant and happy as I am. Several physicians were so good as to prognosti- cate to me, ten years ago, that it was imposible for me to holdout three years longer; however, I still find myself less weak than ever, and am stronger this year than any that went before. This sort of miracle, and the many favours which I received from God, obliged them to tell me, that I brought along with mc at my birth, an extraordinary and special gift of nature ; and for the proof of their opinion, they employed all their rhetoric, and made. several elegant speeches on that head. It must be acknowledged, my Lord, that eloquence has a charming force on the mind of man, since it often persuades him to believe that which never was, and never could be. I was very much pleased to hear them discourse ; and could it be helped, since they were men of parts who harangued at that rate ? Bvt that which delighted me most, was to reflect, that age and experience may render a man wiser than 44 IMMORTAL MEN TO 1. all the colleges in the world can. And it was in '.ruth by their help, that I knew the error of that notion. To undeceive those gentlemen, and at the same time set them right, 1 replied, that their way of arguing was not just t that the favour 1 received was no special, but a general and universal one : that I was a man as well as others: that we all have judgment and reason, which the Creator has be- stowed on us to preserve our lives : that man, when young, being more subject to sense than reason, is too apt to give himself up to pleasure ; and that when arrived to thirty or forty years of age, lie ">;;ght to consider that if he has been so imprudent •is to lead, till that time, a disorderly life, it is now high time for him to take up and live tem- perately ; for he ought to remember, that though he has hitherto been held up by the vigour oi youth and a good constitution, yet he is now at the noon of life, and must bethink himself of going down to- wards the grave, with a heavy weight of years on his back, of which his frequent pains and infirmi- ties are certain forerunners; and that therefore, if he has not been so happy as to do it already, he ought now, immediately to change his course of life. I must confess it was not without great reluctance that I abandoned my luxurious way of living. I be- gan with praying to God, that he would grant me IMMORTAL MENTOR. 45 the gift of Temperance, well knowing that he al- ways hears our prayers with delight. Then, con- sidering, that when a man is about to undertake any thing of importance, he may greatly strengthen himself in it, by often looking forward to the great pleasures and advantages that he is to derive from it. Just as the husbandman takes comfort un- der his toils, by reflecting on the sweets of abun- dance ; and as the good christian gladdens in the service of God, when he thinks on the glory of that service, and the eternal joys that await him ; so I, in like manner, by seriously reflecting on the innu- merable pleasures and blessings of health, and be- seeching God to strengthen me in my good resolu- tions, immediately entered on a course of tempe- rance and regularity. And though it was at first highly disagreeable, yet I can truly say, that in a little time, the disagreeableness vanished, and I came to find great delight in it. Now on hearing my arguments, they all agreed that I had said nothing but what was reasonable : nay, the youngest amongst them told me, that he was willing to allow that these advantages might be common to all men, but was afraid, they were sel- dom attained ; and that I must be singularly favour- ed of Heaven to get above the delights of an easy life, and embrace one quite contrary to it; that he 5* IMMORTAL MEN TOW. did not look on it to be impossible, 9ince my prac- tice convinced him of the contrary, but however, it acemed to him to be very difficult. I replied it was a shame to relinquish a good un- dertaking on account of the difficulties that might attend it, and that the greater the difficulty, the more glory should wc acquire : that it is the will of the Creator, that every one should attain to a long life, because in his old age, he might be freed from the bitter fruits that were produced by sense, and might enjoy the good effects of his reason ; that when he has shaken hands with his vices, he is no longer a slave to the devil, and finds himself in a better condition of providing for the salvation o£ Uis soul : that God, whose goodness is infinite, has ordained that the man who comes to the end of his race, should end his life without any distemper, and 30 pass, by a sweet and easy death, to a life of im- mortality and glory, which I-expect. I hope 'said I to him) to die singing the praises of my Creator. Tho sad reflection, that we must one day cease to live, is no disturbance tome, though I easily per* ceive, that at my age, that day cannot be far off; nor am I afraid of the terrors of hell, because, bless- ed be God, I have long ago shaken hands with my sins, and put my trust in the mercy and merits of the blood of Jesus Christ. IMMORTAL MENTOR. 4r To this my young antagonist had nothing to say, only that he was resolved to lead a sober life, that he might live and die as happily as I hoped to do ; and that though hitherto he had wished to- be young v a ;ong time, yet now he desired to be quickly old, that he might enjoy the pleasures of such an admir- able age. Some sensual persons give out, that I have troubled myself to no purpose, in composing a treatise concerning temperance, and that I have lost my time in endeavouring to persuade men to the practice of that which is impossible. Now this surprises me the more, as these gentlemen must see that I had led a temperate life many years before I composed this treatise, and that I never should have put myself to the trouble of composing it, had not long experience convinced me, that it is a life Which any man may easily lead, who really wishes to be healthy and happy. And, besides the evidence of my own experience, I have the satisfaction to hear, that numbers on seeing my treatise have em- braced such a life, and enjoyed from it the very same blessings which I enjoy. Hence, I conclude, that no man of good sense will pay any regard to so frivolous an objection. The truth is, those gen- th nien who make this objection, are so unhappily wedded to the poor pleasure of eating and drinking, 4f 4MM0RTAL MENTOR, that they cannot think of moderating it, and as as excuse for themselves, they choose to talk at this extravagant rate. However, I pity these gentle- men with all my heart, though they deserve for {heir intemperance, to be tormented with a com- plication of distempers, and to be the victims of their passions a whole eternity. CHAPTER IV. IF THE BIRTH AND DEATH OF MAN. THAT I may not be deficient in that duty ot' charity, which all men owe to one another, or lose one moment of that pleasure which conscious use- fulness affords ; I again take up my pen. What I am going to say will be looked on as impossible, or incredible; but nothing is more certain, nor more worthily to be admired by all posterity. I am now ninety-five years of age, and find myself as healthy and brisk, as if I were but twenty-five. What ingratitude should I be guilty of, did I not return thanks to the Divine Goodness, for all his favors conferred upon me ? Most of your old men hav scarce arrived to sixty, but they find them- selves loaded with infirmities : they are melancho- ly, unhealthful ; always full of the frightful appre- sions of dying : they tremble day and night for fear of being within one foot of their graves; and are so strongiy possessed with the dread of it, that it 59 IMMORTAL MENTOR. is a hard matter to divert them from that doleful thought. Blessed be God, I am free from their ills and terrors. It is my opinion, that I ought not to abandon myself to that vain fear : this I will make appear by the sequel. Some there are, who bring along with them a strong constitution into the world, and live to old age : but it is generally (as already observed) an old age of sickness and sorrow ; for which they are to thank themselves ; because they mosv unreason- ably presume on the strength of their constitution ; and will not on any account, abate of that hearty feeding which they indulged in their younger days. Just as if they were to be as vigorous at fourscore as in the flower of their youth ; nay, they go about to justify this their imprudence, pretending that as we lose our health and vigor by growing old, we should endeavour to repair the loss, by increas- ing the quantity of our food, since it is by suste- nance that man is preserved. Bat in this they are dangerously mistaken ; for as the natural heat and strength of the stomach les- sen*, as a man grows in years, he should diminish the quantity of his meat and drink, common pru- dence requiring that a man should proportion his diet to his uigestive powers. IMMORTAL MENTOR. M This is a certain truth, that sharp sour humors on the stomach, proceed from a slow imperfect diges- tion ; and that but little good chyle can be made, when the stomach is filled with fresh food before it has carried off the former meal. It cannot, there- fore, be too frequency, nor too earnestly recom- mended, that as the natural heat decays by age, a man ought to abate the quantity of what he eats and drinks; nature requiring but very little for the healthy support of the life of nmn, especially that of an old man. Would my aged friends but attend to this single precept, which has been so signally ser- viceable to me, they would not be troubled with one twentieth of those infirmities which now harrass and make the ir lives so miserable. They would be light, active, and cheerful like me, who am now near my hundridth year. And those of them who were born with good constitutions, might live to the age of one hundred and twenty. Had I been blest with a robust constitution, I should in all probability, attain the same age But as I was born with feeble stamina, 1 shall not perhaps outlive an hundred. And this moral certainty of living to a great age, is, to be sure, a most p'easing and desirable attainment, and it is the prerogative of none but the temperate. For .11 those who vby immoderate eating and drink- i g lit -irbodirs with gross humours, can have nu reasonable assurance of Jiving a single day long- & IMMORTAL MENTOR. er: oppressed with food and swoln with superfluous humours,they are in continual danger of violent fits of the cholic, deadly strokes of the apoplexy, fatal attacks of the cholera morbus, burning fevers, and many such acute and violent diseases, whereby thousands are carried to their graves, who a lew hours before looked very hale and hearty. And this moral certainty Tof long life is built on such good grounds as seldom ever fail. For, generally speak- ing, Almighty God seems to have settled his works on the sure grounds of natural causes, and temper- ance is (by divine appointment} the natural cause of health and long life. Hence, it is next to impossi- ble, that he who leads a strictly temperate life, should breed any sickness or die of an unnatural death, before he attains to the years to which the natural strength of his constitution was to arrive. I know some persons are so weak as to excuse their wicked intemperance, by saying, that '»the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong," and that therefore, let them eat and drink as they please, they shall not die till their time comes. How scandalously do these men mis nderstand So- lomon and abuse truth ! How would it startle us to hear our friends say, " that let them sleep and play, as they please, they shall not be beggars till their t:me comes." IMMORTAL MENTOR. 5$ Solomon does indeed say, that " the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong;" but he must be no better than a madman, who thence infers, that it is not generally so. For the in- variable and eternal experience of mankind demon- strates, that ninety-nine times in an hundred, the race is to the swift, and the battle to the strong, bread to the industrious, and health to the tem- perate. But it is a matter of fact, and not to be denied, that though temperance has the divine efficacy to secure us from violent disease and unnatural death, yet it is not to be supposed to make a man immor- tal. It is impossible but that time, which effaces all things, should likewise destroy that most curious workmansnip of God, the human body : but it is man's privilege to end his days by a natural death, that is, without pain and agony, as they will see me, when the heat and strength of nature is quite ex- hausted. But I promise myself, that day is a pret- ty comfortable distance off yet, and 1 fancy I am not mistaken, because I am still healthy and brisk, relish all ! eat, sleep quietly, and find no defect in any of my senses. Besides, all the faculties of my mind are in the highest perfection ; my understanding clear and bripht as ever; my judgment sound ; my memory tenacious ; my spiiits good ; and my voice, the first 6 51 IMMORTAL MENTOR. thing that fails others, still so strong and sonorous, that every morning and evening, with my dear grand-children around me, I can address my pray- ers and chant the praises of the Almighty. O, how glorious this life of mine is like to be, replete with all the felicities which a man can enjoy on this side of the grave; and exempt from that sensual brutali- ty which age has enabled my better reason to ban- ish, and therewith all its bitter fruits, the extrava- gant passions and distressful perturbations of mind. Nor yet can the fears of death find room in my mind, as I have no licensed sinf, to cherish such gloomy thoughts : neither can the death of relations and friends give me any other grief than that of the first movement of nature, which cannot be avoided, but is of no long continuance. Still less am I liable to be cast down by the loss of worldly goods. I look on these things as the property of heaven ; I can thank him for the loan of so many comforts, and when his wisdom sees fit to withdraw them, I can look on their departure without mur- muring. This is the happiness of those only, who grow* old in the ways of temperance and virtue ; a happiness which seldom attends the most flourish" ing youth who live in vice. Such are all subject to a thousand disorders, both of body and mind, from which 1 am entirely f:ce: on the contrary, I enjoy a IMMORTAL MENTOR, 55 thousand pleasures, which are as pure as they are calm. The first of these is to do service to my country. O ! what a glorious amusement, in which I find in- finite delight, in showing my countrymen how to fortify this our dear city of Venice, in so excellent a manner, as to make her a famous republic, a rich and matchless city. Another amusement of mine is, that of showing this maid and queen of cities, in what manner she may always abound with provi- sions, by manuring untilled lands, draining marsh- es, and laying under water, and thereby fattening fields, which had all along been barren for want of moisture. My third amusement is in showing my native city, how, though already strong, she may be rendered much stronger ; and, though extreme- ly beautiful, may still increase in beauty ; though rich, may acquire more wealth, and may be made to enjoy better air, though her air is excellent. These three amusements, all arising from the idea of pub- lic utility, I enjoy in the highest degree. Another very great comfort I enjoy is, that having been de- fra ded wuen yonng, of a considerable estate, I have made ample amends for that loss, by dint of thought and industry, and without the least wron«- done to any person, have doubled my income, so that 1 am able not only to provide for my dear grand- IMMORTAL MENTOR. children, but to educate and assist many poor youth to begin the world. And I cannot help saying, I re- flect with more pleasure on what I lay out in that way, than in any other. Another very considerable addition to my happi- ness is, that what 1 have written from my own expe- rience, in order to recommend temperance, has been of great use to numbers, who loudly proclaim their obligations to me for that work, scveial of them having sent me word from foreign parts, that, under God, they are indebted to me for their lives. But that which makes me look on myself as one of the happiest of men, is, that I enjoy as it were, two sorts of lives ; the one terrestrial, which I possess in fact; the other celestial, which 1 possess in thought; and this thought is attended with unutter- able delight, being founded on such glorious ob- jects, which I am morally sure of obtaining, through the infinite goodness and mercy of God. Thus I enjoy this terrestrial life, partly through the beneficent influences of temperance and sobriety) ■virtues so pleasing to heaven ; and I enjoy, through cordial love of the same Divine Majesty, the celes- tial lite, by contemplating so often on the happiness thereof, that I can hardly think of any thing else, And I hold, that dying in the manner I expect, is not really death, but a passage of the soul from this IMMORTAL MENTOR, # earthly life, to a celestial, immortal, and infinitely perfect existence. And I am so charmed with the glorious elevation to which I think my soul is de- signed, that I can no longer stoop to those trifles, -.vhich, alas! charm and infatuate too great a part of mankind. The prospect of parting with my favour- ite enjoyments of this life, gives me but little con- cern ; on the contrary, I thank God, I often think of it with secret joy, since by that loss I am to gain a life incomparably more happy. O ! who then would be troubled, were he in my place ? what good man, hut must instantly throw off his load of worldly sorrow, and address his grateful homage to the Author of all this happiness ? How- ever, there is not a man on earth, who may not hopo for the like happiness, if he would but live as I do For indeed I am no angel, but only a man, a servant of God, to whom a good and temperate hTe is so pleasing, that even in this world he greatly rewards those who practise it. And whereas many embrace a holy and contem- plative life, teaching and preaching the great tiuths of religion, which is highly commendable., the chief employment of such being to lead men to the know- ledge and worship of God. O that they would like- wise betake themselves entirely to a regular and 58 IMMORTAL MENTOR* temperate life \ They would then be considered as saints indeed upon earth, as those primitive chris- tians were, who observed so constant a temperance, and who lived so long. By living like them, to the age of one hundred and twenty, they might make such a proficiency in holiness, and become so dear to God, as to do the greatest honour and service to the world; and they would besides, enjoy constant health and spirits, and be always happy within them- selves; whereas they are now too often infirm and melancholy. If indeed they are melancholy, be- cause they see God (after all his goodness) so un- gratefu.ly • equited ; or because they see men (not- Withstanding their innumerable obligations to love) yet hating and grieving at each other: such melan- choly is truly amiable and divine. But to be melancholy on any other account, is, to speak the truth, quite unnatural to good christians; such persons being the servants of God and heirs of immortality ; and it is still more unbecoming the ministers of religion, who ought to consider them* selves, as of all others, in the most important, ser- viceable, and delightful employment. I know, many of these gentlemen think that Go» does purposely bring those occasions of melancholy on them, that they may in this life do penance for IMMORTAL MENTOR. 59 their former sins ; but therein, as I think, they are much mistaken. I cannot conceive hew God, who loves mankind, can be delighted with their sufirr- ings. lie desires that mankind should be happy, both in this world and the next; he tells us so in a thousand places in his word, and we actually find that there is not a man on earth, who does not feel the good Spirit of God, forbidding and condemning those wicked courses, which would rob him of that happiness. No; it is the devil and sin which bring all the evils we suffer on our heads, and not God, who is our Creator and Fa her, and desires our hap- piness : his commands tend to no other purpose. And temperance wouid not be a virtue, if the bene- fit it does us by preserving us from distempers, were repugnant to the designs oi God in our old age. In short, if all religious people were strictly tem- perate and tioly, how beautiful, how glorious a scene should we then behold • Such numbers of Venerable old men as would create surprise. How many wise an! holy teachers to edify the people by their wholesome preachlg and good examples! How many sinners might receive benefit by their fervent intercessions! How many blessings might they shower upon the earth ; and not as now; eating and drinking so uitcmperately, as to inflame the Sft IMMORTAL MENTOR. blood and excite worldly passions, pride, amb'tion, and concupiscence, soiling the purity of theii minds, checking their growth in holiness, and in some un- guarded moment, betraying them into sins disgrace- ful to religion, and ruinous to their peace for life. Would they but feed temperately, and that chiefly xm vegetable food, they would as I do, soon find it most agreeable, (by the cool temperate humours it affords) the best friend to virtuous improvement, begetting gentle manners,'mild affections, purity of thought, heavenly mildness, quick relish for virtue, and delight in God. This was the life led by the holy fathers of old, who subsisted entirely on vege- tables, drinking nothing but pure water, and yet lived to an extreme old age, in good health and spi- rits, and always happy within themselves. And so may all in our days live, provided they would but mortify the lusts of a corruptible body, and devote themselves entirely to the exalted service ofGou ; for, this is indeed the privilege of every faithful christian as Jesus Christ left it, when he came down upon earth to shed his precious blood, in or- der to deliver us from the tyrannical servitude of the devil; and all through his immense goodness. To conclude, since length of days abounds with •o many blessings, and I am so happy as to have ar- rived at that state/1 find myself bound (in charity) IMMORTAL MENTOR. « to give testimony in favour of it, and solemnly as- sure all mankind, that I really enjoy a great deal more than what I now mention; and that 1 have no other motive in writing on this subject, than to en- gage them to practise, all their lives, those excel- lent virtues of temperance and sobriety, which will bring them, like me, to a happy old age. And therefore I never cease to raise my voice, crying out to you, my friends, may your days be many, that y u may long serv. God, and be fitter for the glory which he prepares for his children. » APPENDIX. GOLDEN RULES OF HEALTH, Selected from Hippocrates, Plutarch, and several other eminent physicians and philosophers. OF all the people on the face of the earth, the Americans are under the greatest obligations to live temperately. Formed for commerce, our country abounds with bays, rivers and creeks, the exhala- tions from which, give the air a dampness unfriend- ly to the springs of life. To counteract this infeli- city of climate, reason peaches us to adopt every measure that may give tone and vigor to the constitution. This precaution, however, at all times necessary, is peculiarly so in autumn, Gi IMMORTAL MENTOR. for then the body is relaxed by the intense heat of the dog-days, the air is filled with noxious vapours from putrid vegetables ; Nature herself wears a sickly, drooping aspect; the most ro'mst feel a dis- agreeable weariness and soreness of their flesh, a heaviness and sluggishness in motion, quick fever- ish flushings, and sudden chills darting along their n.rves, (all plain proofs of a sickly atmosphere, and tottering health.) Now, if ever, we need the aid of all-invigorating temperance, now keep the stomach light and vigorous by moderate feeding, the veins well stored with healthy blood, and the nerves full braced by manly exercise and comely cheerfulness. Be choice of your diet, fruit per- fectly ripe, vegetables thoroughly done, and meats of the easiest digestion, with a glass or two of ge- nerous wine at each meal, and all taken in such prudent moderation, as not to load but strengthen the constitution. For at this critical juncture, a single act of intemperance, which would scarcely be felt in the wholesome frosts of winter, -often turns the scale against nature, and brings on obsti- nate indigestion, load at stomach, loss of appetite, a furred tongue, yellowness of eyes, bitter taste in the mouth in the morning, bilious vomitings, agues, fevers, &c. which in spite of the best medicines, often wear a man away to a ghost. If blessed with a good constitution, he may perhaps crawl on to IMMORTAL MENTOR. &5 winter, and get braced up again by her friendly frosts; but if old or infirm, it is likely death will overtake him, before he can reach that city of re- fuge. " The giddy practice of throwing aside our win- ter clothes too early in the spring, and that of ex- posing our bodies, when overheated, to sudden cold, has destroyed more people, than famine, pes- tilence and sword."*— Sydenham. Those who, by any accident, have lost a mea!, (suppose their dinner^ ought not to eat a plentiful * I saw (says an American officer) thirteen grenadiers lying dead by a spring side, in consequence of drinking too freely of the cold water, while dripping with sweat in a hard day's march, in summer. And many a charming girl, wor- thy of a tenderer husband, has sunk into the icy embraces of death, by suddenly exposing her delicate frame, warm from the ball-room, to the cold air. And since "the uni- versal cause acts not by partial, but by general law9#' many a good soul, with more piety than prudence, turning out quite warm from a crowded preaching into the cold ai;- without cloak or surtout, has gone off in a galloping con- sumption to that happy world, where pain and sickness arc unknown. What a melanch»:y thing it is, that people can- not take care of their souls, without neglect.n.^theiT bodies, nor sak their salvation w .tluut rmuin^ then health ! 7 66 IMMORTAL MENTOR. supper; for it will lie heavy on their stomach, rnd they will have a more restless night than if they had both dined and supped heartily. He therefore, who has missed his dinner, should make a light supper of spoon victuals, rather than of any strong solid food. Hippocrates. Tfe who has taken a larger quantity of food than usual, and feels it heavy and troublesome on his stomach, will, if he is a wise man, go out and puke it Up immediately.* Hippocrates. And here I cannot omit mentioning a very ruin- ous error into which too many are fond of running, I mem, the frequent use of strong vomits and pur- gatives. A man evciy now and then feeds too free- ly on some favourite dish ; by such excess the sto- mach is weakened, the body filled with superfluous * The wise son of Sriach confirms this precept, and sr.)c, Eccles. xxxi. 21. " If thou hast been forced to eat, arise, j"o forth and puke, and thou shalt have rest." And most certain it is, (adds an ingenious physician) that hundreds and thousands have brought sickntss and iLv.'h on them- selves, by their ignorance or neglect of this rule. But at the same time people should carefully avoid a repetition of that excess, wh'.ch renders such an evacuation necessary, for frequent von.Uings do great'.y ten ! to weaken and d* str-y the tcr.c of ths stom^:Ii. IMMORTAL MENTOR. 47 humours, and he presently finds himself much out of sorts. The only medicine in this case, is mode- rate exercise, innocent amusement, and a little ab- stinence, this is nature's own prescription, as ap- pears by her taking away his appetite. But having long placed his happiness in eating and drinking, he cannot think of relinquishing a gratification so dear to him, and so sets himself to force an appefitc by drams, slings, elixir of vitriol, wine and bitters, pickles, sauces, &c. and on the credit of this artifi- cial appetite, feeds again as if he possessed the most vigorous health. He now finds himself entirely dis- ordered, general heaviness, frequent eructations, loss of appetite, disturbed slumbers, frightful dreams, bitter taste in the mouth, &c. He now complains of a foul stomach, or (in his own words) that his stomach is full of bile ; and immediately takes a dose of tartar emetic or a strong purgative, to cleanse out his stomach, and so prepare Tor ano- ther course of high living. Of all the Apollyonsor de- stroyers of nerves, health and life, this is the great- est ; and I have no sort of doubt on my own mifld but it has broken down more constitutions, brought on more distempers, and sent more people to an early grave, than all the vices of this bedlam wc rid put together. How much wiser would it be in this case to follow the advice of the celebrated Bcer- haave, i. e. to use a little abstinence, take mode- o8 IMMORTAL MENTOR. rate exercise, and thereby help nature to carry off her crudities and recover her springs. I have been often told.by a lady ol quality, whose circumstances obliged her to be a good oeconomist, and whose prudence and temperance preserved her health and senses unimpaired to a great age, that she had kept herself out of the hands of the physicians many years by this simple regimen. People in health should never force themselves to eat when they have no ap- petite ; Nature, the best judge in these matters, will never fail to let cs know the proper time of refreshment. To act contrary to this rule, will as- suredly weaken the powers of digestion, impair health and shorten life. Plutarch, " Let us beware of such food as tempts us to eat when we arc not hungry, and of such liquors as entice us to drink when wc are not thirsty." Socra- tes. It is i-eally surprising (says Plutarch) what bene- fit" men of letters would receive from reading aloud every day ; we ought therefore to make that exer- cise familiar to us, but it should not be done imme- diately after dinner, nor fatigue, for that error has proved hurtful to many. But though loud reading is a very healthy exercise, violent vociferation is highly dangerous ; it has in thousand? of instances IMMORTAL MENTOR. 69 burst tin tender blood vessels of the lungs, and brought on incurable consumptions.* « The world has long made a just distinction be- twixt men of learning, and wise men. Men of learning are often the weakest of men : they read and meditate incessantly, without allowing proper relaxation or refreshment to the body: and think that a frail machine can bear fatigue as well as an immortal spirit. This puts me in mind of what happened to the camel in the fable ; which, refus- ing though often pre-monished, to ease the ox in due time of a part of his load, was forced at last to * Would to God, all ministers of religion (I mention them because they are generally most wanting in this great article of prudence) would but attend to the advice of this eminent Philosopher. They wou'd, many of them, live much long- er, and consequently stand a good chance to be more useful men here on earth, and brighter saints in heaven. What can give greater pain to a man who has the prosperity of re- ligion at heart, than to see an amiable, pious young divine, [who promised great services to the worldj spitting up hia lungs, and dying of a consumption brought on by preaching ten minutes louder than he had need ! Since the world be- gan, no man ever spoke with half the energy which the in- terests of eternal souls deserve, but there is a wide differ- ence betwixt an instructive, moving, melting eloquence) and a loud, unmeaning monotony. 7* 79 IMMORTAL MENTOR. carry not only the ox's whole load, but the ox him- self also, when he died under his burden Thus it happens to the mind which has no compassion on the body, and will not listen to its complaints, nor give it any rest, until some sad distemper compels the mind to lay study and contemplation aside ; and to lie down, with the afflicted body, upon the bed of languishing and pain. Most wisely, therefore, does Plato admonish us to take the same care of our bodies as of our minds ; that like a well matched pair of horses to a chariot, each may draw his equal share of weight. And when the mind is most in- tent upon virtue and usefulness, the body should then be most cherished by prudence and temperance, that so it may be fully equal to such arduous and no- ble pursuits."—Plutarch. Nothing is more injurious to health than hard atudy at night; it is inverting the order of natuie and ruining the constitution. But most of all, it is improper to lie reading in jbed by cam'.le light; for it not only partakes of the usual inconveniences of night study, such as strain- ing the eye s, weakening the sight, fatiguing the mind, and wearing away the constitution, but is oft- times the cause of the saddest calamities ; thou- sands of elegant houses, with all their costly furni- IMMORTAL MENTOR. M ture, have been reduced to ashes by this very im- prudent practice. But how can giddy youth, hurried on by strong passions and app. tites, be prevented from running into those excesses, which may cut them off in the prim: of their days, or at lea^t hoard up diseases and remorse for oid age ? W hy, their passions and appetites must early be restrained by proper discip- line and example This important office must be done by their parents, whose first and greates^ care should be " to train up their children in the way they should go, that when they are old they may not depart from it." " O that parents (say* the excellent Mr. Locke) would carefully instil into their children that great principle of all virtue and worth, viz nobly to deny themselves every wrong desire, and steadily follow what reason dictates as best, though the appetite should lean the other way. We often see parents by humouring them when little, corrupt the prin- ciples of virtue in their children ; and wonder after- Wards to taste the bitter waters of their undutiful- ness or wickedness, when they themselves have contributed thereto. Why shouli we wonder that he who has been accustomed to have his will in every thing, when he was in coats, should desire and ?2 IMMOUTVL MIA'TOR. contend for it when he is in breeches? Youth is the golden season to inure the mind to the pr icti' e of virtue, on which their future health and respec- tability depen!, and without which it will be impossi- ble 10 deliver their constitutions, unbroken, to man- hood and old age. Vice is utterly inconsistent with health, which can never dwell with lewdness, .uxu- ry, sloth and violent passions. The life of the epi- cure and rake, is not only short, but miserable. It would shock the modest and compassionatt, to hear of those exquisite pains, and dreadful agonies, which profligate young persons suffer from their debaucheries, before they can even reach the friend- ly shelter of an untimely grave. Or it some few stop shoit in their career of riot, before they have quite destroyed the springs of life, yet those springs are generally rendered so feeble and crazy, by >he liberties which they have already taken, that they only support a gloomy, dispirited, dying life, tedi- ous to themselves, and troublesome to all around them; and (which is still more piti be) often transmit their complaints to an innocent unhappy offspring," PART II. THE WAY TO WEALTH, BY DOCTOR FRANKLIN, INTRODUCTION. " But for one end, one much neglected use, are " riches worth your care : " This noble end is—to shew the virtues in their " fairest light; ls To make humanity the minister of bounteous Pro- " vidence, ; Jnd teach the breast the generous luxury of doing « good.V Dr. Akmsthong. THERE is scarcely among the evils of life, any so generally dreaded as po- verty. Many other kinds of misery a man may easily forget, because they do not always force themselves upon his regards. But it is impossible to pass 76 IMMORTAL MENTOR. a day or an hour, in the company of men without seeing how much pover- ty is exposed to neglect and insult; and in its lowest state, to hunger and naked- ness; to injuries, against which, every passion is in arms ; and to wants, which nature, without the aids of religion, cannot-sustain. Of these calamities, mankind in ge- neral seem to be sensible. We hear on every side the noise of trade ; and see the streets thronged with number- less multitudes, whose faces a/e cloud- ed with anxiety, and whose steps are hurried by precipitation, from no other motive than the hope of gain. The whole world is put in motion hv the desire of that wealth, which i^ chiefly to be valued as it secures us from po- verty and its miseries. But there arc ^ '■ always tome whose passions or follies IMMORTAL MEXTOR. 77 lead them to a conduct widely different from the general practice of mankind. I mean the thoughtless and the negli- gent, who, from an excess of careless- ness, or the seductions of company, in- dulge habits of pleasure and expence • above their fortunes ; and thus mispend their time, or waste the inheritance of! their fathers, without ever seeming0 to reflect on the great sacrifice they are making, or the gulph to which they ap- proach, till poverty, like an unexpected winter, comes upon them with all its chilling calamities, and awakens them to a pungent sense of their folly and wretchedness. The young, and those of the most generous and unsuspecting tempers, often fall into this evil net, out of which they seldom escape without suffering injuries, which they painfully feel and seriously lament through life. 8 i*3 IMMORTAL MTNTCl:. No man had a heart more disposed to pi- ly, nor a head more able to counsel these unfortunates, than the sage Dr. Franklin, the friend of man, ard the great economist of America. His little work entitled, " The Way to Wealth," is universally considered as a master-piece, t on the art of making and preserving a fortune. But before, we give the reader a sight of this, we will exhibit to his view some of the many felicities of wealth, that on seeing how much happi- ness he may derive from it to himself, and how many services he may there- with confer on ethers, he may apply with vigour and perseverance to the means conclusive to so desirable an end. In the first place—Wealth always com- mands respect, unless its owner be an in- frmcus wretch indeed; and even in that deplorable ea^c, iflias the magic powers IMMORTAL MENTOR, 79 of charity, to cover and hide a mull dude of sins. It gives a man an air of conse- quence, and like true beauty, without any exertion of its own, wins the favour ofi all beholders. When the rich man goes into company, every body rise up to salute him : no features too hard to assume a smile ; no back so stiff but can afford a bowl He is placed in the uppermost seat at the table, and men covet to direct their conversation to him. The poor man speaketh, but no one regard- eth : the - rich openeth his mouth, and lo I silence is kept. What can be more pleasing to man than to see himself thus honoured by his friends ? But besides this satisfaction, which to the good, is very exquisite; it has a very happy moral effect on the mind. In a mind possessed of common sensibility, it must kindle the soft fire of *0 I>IMORTAL MENTOR. good humour, and good humour natu- rally inspires benevolence and affection. Whence we infer, that a rich man, who is prudent, stands a much fairer chance to be good humoured than the poor, whose poverty exposes them to such frequent slights and neglects. In the second place—Wealth places a man in a state which all must covet; a state of independence. To owe no man any thing ; to be able to go whither soever we please ; and to face any company without dread of dunning, is "a luxury too divine, even to be conceived by any who have not been haunted and hag ridden by creditors. Say, ye debtors, ye poorest of mankind, say, ye who can- not look at a creditor without confusion, nor hear the name of justice without a pang ; who startle at the sound of a shak- en leaf, as though the feet of the sheriff IMMORTAL MENTOR. 81 were at the door, and fly as the mur- derer flies from the avenger of blood, whose sorrowful days are wasted in me- ditating fruitless plans of payment, while your midnight slumbers are frightened by dreams of bankruptcy, and apparitions of merciless creditors, sales, and houseless children : say wherein is the life of a debtor better than the life of a dog. Are not the prospects of independence as reviving to your hearts, as the prospects of para- dise to souls that have long pined in purgatory ? But, on the other hand, never to go in debt; or, if accident shovild render a trifling debt necessary; to have at home more than enough to defray it; to receive a creditor with a smiling o countenance ; to delight his eyes with the promised gold, and to dismiss hint 8* 82 IMMORTAL MENTOH* charmed with our punctuality and ho- nour : Must not this, to a good man, afford a series of satisfactions, too com- plicated for detail, and too exquisite for description ? In the third place—Wealth enables us to enjoy the purest and sublimest pleasures that are to befiound on earth—the pleasures of doing good. To a tender parent, the interests of his Children are dea$± as the blood which feeds the fountain ofi life, When he looks at them, his boivels are moved within him, because he remembers the evils which await them ; lie considers that ignorance leaves- them an easy prey to the irafity and ciuel; and that want betrays them to dishonesty and J'alsehuod. Happy the parent who pos- sesses wealth ; he places befiore his children the lamp of knowledge, and they ptrcewe IMMORTAL MENT0R. 83 the snares ofi the at tfid; he surrounds them with the blessings of competence, and they despise the gains of iniquity. He has sisters and brethren, perhaps, poor in world- ly good a, but whom he loves as his oxen soul; and young relatives, whose little strong embraces, kindle all the parent within him. Is there on earth a happi- ness equal to that which he feels in supply- ing their wants ; giving them education, and thus leading them, as by the hand, to usefulness ana honour ? To welcome the weeping xvidow; to pro- vide j or her a place of rest; to dry up her tears; tofieed and < ducate her little orphans, and to put them in a way to gain an honest livelihood. To take by the handpooryoung trades- men ; to Lend them money; to set them up, and thus to enable them to be very usejul te •U IMMORTAL MENTOR. the community, and to make comfortable livings for themselves. To build in the neighbourhoods of the poor, places of public worship, where the people may learn the knowledge oj God, and the happiness oj a good life. To assist in providing houses where the sick and aged poor, it ho are not able to work for themselves, may be taken in, and have medicines and physicians to cure their sicknesses, and food and clothing to make the ramainder of their days haj)py. To feel for a tenant's misfortunes, and to abate something of his rent in a bad sea- son. To silence the excuses of a poor debtor with a " Well, well; don't be uneasy on account of this trifle; I know you are an honest man, and I am willing to IMMORTAL MENTOR. 85 wait till you can make it convenient to pay me." These are some of the numberless luxu- ries of beneficence whiih wealth enables a good man to enjoy. If you would enjoy them, listen to the instructions of Dr. Franklin, and let the words of his mouth sink deep into your heart. Despise them not fur their simplicity ; for simple and un- learned is the multitude to which they are addressed. THE WAY TO WEALTH. COURTEOUS BFADER, I have heard, that nothing gives en author so great pleasure, as to find his works respectfully quoted by others. Judge, then, how much I must have been gratified by an incident I am going to re- late to you. I stopped m horse, 1 tclv, where a great number of people were collected at an auction of merchant's goods. The hour of the sale rot be- ing come, they were conversing on the badness of the times ; and one of the company called to a plain, oilman, with white locks, "Pray, father Abra- l.r.m, what think you of the times ? Will not these hcr.vy taxes quite ruin the counti y ? How shall we be ever ;j.blc to p.n-them? What would you 88 IMMORTAL MENTOR. advise us to?''—Father Abraham stood up, and re- plied, " If you would have my advice, I will give it you in short; " for a word to the wise is enough, as Poor Richard says." They joined in desiring him to speak his mind, and gathering round him, he proceeded as follows : "Friends, says he, the taxes are, indeed, very heavy ; and, if those laid on by the government, were the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge them ; but we have many others, and much more gi ievous to some of us We arc taxed twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by our pride, and four times as much by our folly ; and from these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, and something may be done for us; God helps them that help themselves," as Poor Richard says. I. " It would be thought a hard government that should tax its people one-tenth pirt of their time, to be employed in its service : but idleness taxes ma- ny of us much more ; sloth, by bringing on diseases, absolutely shortens life. " Sloth, like rust, con- sumes faster than labour wears, while the used key *,is always bright," as Poor Richard siys. " But dost thou loye life, then do not squander time, for IMMORTAL MENTOR. 89 that is the stuff life is made of," as Poor Richard says. How much more than is necessary do we spend in sleep ? forgetting that " The sleeping fox catches no poultry, and that there will be sleeping; enough in the grave," as Poor Richard says. " If time be of all things the most precious, wast- ing time must be," as Poor Richard says, " the greatest prodigality ;" since, as he elsewhere tells us, " Lost time is never found again ; and what we call time enough always proves little enough :" Let us then up and be doing, and doing to the purpose ; so by diligence shall we do more with less perplex- ity. " Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all easy ; and, he that riseth late, must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night; while laziness travels so slowly, that poverty soon overtakes him. Drive thy business, let not that drive thee; and early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise," as Poor Richard says. " So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times ? We may make these times better, if we bestir ourselves. " Industry need not wish, and he that lives upon hope will die fasting. There are no gains without pains ; then, help hands for I have no lands," or if I have they a,re smartly taxed. " He 9 90 IMMORTAL MENTOR. that hath a trade, hath an estate ; and he that hatha calling, hath an office of profit and honour," as Poor Richard says ; but then the trade must be worked at, and the calling well followed, or neither the estate or the office will enable us to pay our tax- es. II we are industrious, we will never starve ; for at the working man's house, hunger looks in, but dares not enter." Nor will the bailiff or the consta- ble enter, for " Industry pays debts, while despair increaseth them." What, though you have found no treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a legacy, "Diligence is the mother of good luck, and God gives all things to industry. Then plough deep, while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep." Work while it is called to-day, for you know not how much you may be hindred to- morrow. « One to-day is worth two tomorrows," as Poor Richard says , and further, " Never leave that till tomorrow which you can do to-day." If you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good master should catch yon idle ? Arc you then your own master ? be ashamed to catch yourself idle, when there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, your relations, and your country. Han- dle your tools without mittens : remember, that « The cat in gloves catches no mice," as Poor Rich- ard says. It is true, there is much to be dore, and, pei Laps, you ars weak handed ; but stick to it stead- IMMORTAL MENTOR. [91 ily, and you will see great effects ; for " Constant dropping wears away stones ; and by diligence and patience the mouse ate in two the cable ; and little strokes fell great c::ks." " Methinks I hear some of you say/' Must a man afford himself no leisure ?'' I will teil thee my friend what Poot Richard says : '«Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure; and, since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour." Leisure is time tor doing something useful; this leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy man never ; for, " A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things. Many, without labour uoud live by their wits only, but they break for want of stock;" whereas industry gives comfort, and. plenty, and rts- pect. "F.y pleasures, and they will follow you, l'he diligent spim;ir has a large shift; and now I liuve a sheep and a cow, every body bids me good moirow." II. " But with our industry, we must likewise be steady, settled, and carelul, and oversee our own af- irtirs with our own eyes, and not trust too much i.o others ; lbr, as Poor Richard says, " I never saw an oft removed tree, Nor yet an oft removed family, Tint throve sp veil as those that settle! b- "' 92 IMMORTAL MENTOR. And again, « Three removes is as bad as a fire ;* and again, « Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee ;" and again, " If you would have your business done, go ; if not, send." And again, " lie that by the plough would thrive, Himself must either hold or drive." And again, "The eye.of a master will do more work than both his hands; and again, » Want of care do us more damage than want of knowledge ; and again, " Not to oversee workmen, is to leave them your purse open." Trusting too much to others care is the ruin of many ; for, " in the affairs of this world, men are saved, not by faith, but by the want of it;" but a man's own care is profitable ; for, " If you would have a faithful servant, and one that you like, serve yourself. A little neglect may breed great mischief; for want of a nail the shoe was lost; and for want of a shoe the horse was lost; and for want of a horse the rider v. as lost," be- ing overtaken and slain by the enemy ; all fur want of a little care about a horse-shoe nail.'' III. " So much for industry, my friends, and at- tention to one's own business ; but to these we must add frugality, if we would make our industry more certainly successful. A man may, if he knows not how to sa.ve as he gets, « keep his nose all his life IMMORTAL llilli TOK. 93 t^tl.s grindstone,- and die not worth a groat a* last. A fat kitchen makes a lean will;" and <: Mrny an estate i» spent in the getting, Since women for tea foiso-k spinning' and knitting, And mCn for punch forsook hewing' and splitting." If you would be wealthy, think of saving, as well as of getting. The Indies have not made Spain rich, because her outgoes are greater than her incomes." " Away, then, with your expensive follies, and you will then not have so much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable families; for " Women and wine, game and deceit, Makes the wealth small, and the want great." And further, " What maintains one vice, would bring up two children " You may think, perhaps, that a little tea, or a little punch now and then, diet a little more costly, cloaths a little finer, and a lit- tle entertainment now and then, can be no great matter ; but remember " many a little makes a muckle." Beware of little expenses; "A small leak will s:nk a great ship,''' as Poor Ri. hard says ; and again, "Who dainties love, shall beggars prove ?"' and moreover, tl Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them.*" Here you are got together to this sale cf fineries and nick-nacks. You call them goods ; but if you do not take care, they will prove 9* 94 IMMORTAL MLNTOk. evils to some of you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and, perhaps, they may for less than they cost; but, if you have no occasion lor them, tliey must be dear to you. Remember what Poor Richard says, " Buy what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries." And again, " At a great pennyworth pause a while :" he means that perhaps the cheapness is apparent oniy, and not real; or the bargain, by straitening thee in thy bu- siness, may do thee more harm than jrood. For in another place he says, " Many have been ruined by buying good pennyworths." Again, "It is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of repentance ;" and yet this foily is practised every day at auctions, for want of minding the Almanack. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, have gone with a hungry belly, and half starved their families ; « silks and satins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire," as Poor Richard says. These are not the necessaries of life, they can scarcely be called the convenie.icies : and yet only because they look pre* ty, how many want to have them ? By these and other extravagancies, the genteel are reduced to po- verty, and forced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but who, thro' industry and fru- gality, have maintained their standing; in which case it appears plainly, that " a ploughman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his kn«es," as IMMOiiTAL MENTOR. 95 Poor Richard says. Perhaps they have had a small estate left them, which they knew not the getting of: they think " It is day, and will never be night:" that tittle to be spent out of so much is not worth minding; but always taking -<»ct of the meal-tub, and never putting in, sooi) cr ;:.cs to the bottom," as Poor Richard says ; and en, "When the well is dry, they know the worth of water " But this they might have known before, if they had taken his advice. " If you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some ; for he that goes a bor- rowing goes a sorrowing," as Poor Richard says ; and, indeed, so does he that lends to such people, when he goes to get in again. Poor Dick lai thev advises, and says, " Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse ; Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse." and again, " Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a great deal more saucy " When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten more, that your ap- pearance maybe all of a piece ; but Poor Dick says, " It is easier to suppress the first desire, than to sa- tisfy all that follow it:" And it is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as for the frog to swell, in order to equal the ox. «' Vessels large may venture more, But little boats should keep near shore*" *.: -i:i.\::-itTAL mentok. It if, however, a foiN soon punished; for, a&Poor Jachard says, " Pride that dines r:i vanity, mj>>» on contempt ; Pride breakfasted with Plenty, dined v.ith r-jv^rty, and supped with Infamy." And, af- ter all, of what use is this puide of appearance for which so much is risked, so mm h is suffered ? It cannot promote health, nor ease pain ; it makes no .increase of merit in the person, it creates envy, it hastens misfortune. " But what madness must it be to run in debt for these superfluities ? We are offered, by the terms of this sale, sx months credit; and that, perhaps, has induced some ol us to attend it, because we can- not spare the ready money, and hope now to be fine without it. But, ah ! think what you do when you run in debt; you give to another p >wer over your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor ; you will be in fear when y ju speak to him ; you will make poor pitiful sneaking excuses, and by degrees, come to lose your veracity, and sink into base downright lying ; for, " The second vice is lying, the first is running in debt," as Poor Richard says ; and again to the same purpose, " Lying rides upon Debt's back :" whereas a free American cught not to be ashamed, nor afraid to see or speak to any man living. But poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. IMMORTAL MENT6R. 97 " It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright." What would you think of that nation, or of that go- vernment, who should issue an edict, foi bidding you to dress like a gentleman or gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude ? Would you not say, that you were free, have a right to dress as you please, and that such an edict would be a breach of your privileges, and such a government tyranni- cal ? And yet v ou are about to put yourself under that tyranny when you run in debt for such dress J Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to de- prive you of your liberty, by confining you in gaol for life, or by selling you for a servant, if you should not be able to pay him : when you have got your bargain, you may perhaps think little of payment : but as Poor Richard says, "Creditors have better memories than debtors, creditors are a superstitious sect, great observers of set days and times." The day comes round before you are aware, and the de- mand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it ; or, if you beavyour debt in mind, the term, which at first seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short: Time v/ill seem to have added wings to his heeh as well as his shoulders. Those have a short Lent, who owe money to be paid at Easter." At present, perhaps, you may think your- 91 IMMORTAL MENTOR. selves in thriving circumstances, and that you cn< bear a little extravagance without injury ; but " For aire and want save while.you may, No morning sun lasts a whole day." Gain may be temporary and uncertain, but ever, while you live, expence is constant and uncertain; and, " It is easier to build two chimneys, than to keep one in fuel," as Poor Richard says : So, -'Rather go to bed supperless, than me in debt. '• Get what you can, and what you get hold, 'i'is the stone that will turn all your lead into gold." And when you have got the philosopher's stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad times, or the difficulty of paying taxes, IV. "T.iis doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom : but, after all, do not depend too much up- on your own industry and frugality, and prudence, though excellent things ; for they may ail be blast- ed, v/i-.hout the blessing of Heaven ; and therefore, aikthat blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at pre-ent seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember, Job suffered, and was Afterwards prosperous, " And now to conclude, "Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other," as Poor IMMORTAL MENTOR. 99 Richard says, and scarce in that ; for, it is true, " We may give advice, but we cannot give con- duct :" However renumber this, "They that will not be counselled cannot be helped;" and further, that "If you will not hear Reason, she will surely rap your knuckles," as Poor Richard says. Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it, and approved the doctrine, and im- mediately practised the contrary, just as if it had been a common sermon; for the auction opened, and they began to buy extravagantly. I found the good man had thoroughly studied my Almanacks, and digested all I had clropt on those topics during the course of twenty-five years. The frequent mention he made of me must have tired any one else ; but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, though I was conscious, that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own, which he ascribed to me ; but rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense cf all ages and nations. However, I resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and, though I had at first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away, resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt clothe same, thy profit will be as great as mine. I am, as ever, thine to serve thee. RICHARD SAUNDERS. ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. REMEMBER that time is money. He that can earn ten shillings a day by his labour, and goes abroad, or sits idle one half of that day, though he spends but sixpence during his diversion or idleness, ought not to reckon that the only expense ; he has really spent, or rather thrown away, five shillings besides. Remember that credit is money. If a man lets his money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the interest, or so much as I can make of it dur- ing that time. This amounts to a considerable sum when a man has good and large credit, and jna,kes good use of it. 10 1»~ IMMORTAL MLXTOU. Remember that money is of a prolific gener- ating nature. Money can beget money, anil its offspring can beget more, and so son. Five shil- lings turned is six , turned again, it is seven and three pence ; and so on till it becomes an hundred pounds. The more there is of it, the more it pro- duces, every turning, so that the profits rise quicker and quicker. He that kills a breeding sow, de-. stroys all her offspring to the thousandth genera- tion. He that murders a crown, destroys all that it might have produced, even scores cf pounds. Remember that six poun■..: a year is but a groat a day. For this little sum, which may be daily waist- ed either in time or expense, unperceivid, a nun of credit may, on his own security, have the constant possession and use of an hundred pounds. So much in stock, briskly turned by an industrious man, pro- duces great advtT.ta^, Eem;;ir.i):r this saying, " The good paymaster is lord of another man's pnrr-e." He that -s known to pay punctually and exactly to the time he ;>romises, may at any time, and on any occasion, raise all the money his friends can spare. This is ■sometimes of * great u::c. After industry and frugality, nothing contributes more to raising youn" men ir. the work!, than punctuality and justice in all their dealings : IMMORTAL MENTOR. 103 therefore never keep borrowed money an hour be- yond the time you promised, lest a disappointment shut your friends purse for ever. The must trifling actions that affect a man's cre- dit are to be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or nii.e at night, heard by a, creditor, makes him easy six months longer ; but f he sees you at a billiard table, or hears your voice at a tavern, when you should be at work, hs sends fur his rnoimy the next day*, demands "it beiore he can receive it in a lump. It shews, besides, tint you are mindful of what you owe ; it makes you appear a careful, as well as honest man, and that still increases your credit. Beware of thinking all your own that you possesSj rmi of living accordingly. It is a mistake that many people who have*- credit fall into. To prevent this, keep an exact account, for some time, both of your expenses and your income. If you take the pains at first to mention particulr.ro, it will have this good efl'oct ; you will discover how wonderfully small trifling expenses mount up to large sums, and will discern what might have been, and may for the fu- ture be saved, without occasioning any great incon- venience. 104 IMMORTAL Mt.NlOtt. In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is us phi.i as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two words, industy and frugality ; that is, waste neither lime nor money, but make the best use of Loth. "Without indusuy and frugality nothing will do, and with them every thing. He that gets all he can honestly, and saves all he gets, (necessary ex- pences excepted) will certainly become rich ; if that Being who governs the world, to whom all should look for a blessing upon their honest endeavours, doth not, in his wise providence, otherwise deter- mine. AN OLD TRADESMAN. PART III. A SURE GUID4 TO HAPPINESS, BY DOCTOR SCOTT. 10* sa A SURE GUIDE TO HAPPINESS. " Oh Happiness! our beings end and aim, " Good, Pleasure, ease, content; whate'er thy name, *' That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh, " For which we bear to live, or dare to die. " Plant of celestial seed, if dropt below, " Say in what favour'd soil thou deign'st to grow." Pope. IF there be any truth fully ascertained by reason and revelation, it is this, That " Man is not but to 6e happy." Surely the mighty author of our being 108 IMMORTAL MENTOR. can have no selfish view in our creation. His hap- piness is too immense and too secure to receive in- crease, or to suffer diminution from any thing wc can do. " Can a man profit his Maker, or what need hath the Almighty qf our services .?" A more important question claims our regard. Wherein consists the happiness of Man ? In order to answer this, we must remember, that man is composed of two natures, an animal and a rational, each of which is blest with capacities of enjoyment, and must have its correspondent ob- jects of gratification before man can be happy, Hitherto we have considered him in the first of these, inhis animal capacity : We have placed before us, a creature of noble shape erect and fair, formed of nerves and fibres, and endued with appetites and feelings. Though this his animal nature be infinitely infe. rior to his rational, yet since the happiness of the latter cannot be complete, while the former is des- titute of its proper goods, we have devoted the two preceding books to the best interests of his animal nature. We have taken the liberty to send him to Old Cornaro and Dr. Franklin, to hear their IMMORTAL MEXTOfi. 109 excellent lectures on health and competence, which all allow to be two very choice ingredients in the cup of happiness. Nay, some entertain so high an opinion of these, as to declare, that if Cornaro and Franklin could insure a quantum sufficit. of them, they would be content, and ask no better happiness than what they could extract from these. But let it be remembered that this is not the lan- guage of the wise, but of the slothful, and of such as are pushed for money, who frequently experienc- ing the painfulness of being dunned, and sometimes tasting the sweets of ease and pleasure, are ready to conclude, that if they had but money enough ; Oh if they had tout money enough to retire from the fatigues and vexations of business, and to spend de- licious days and nights in all the varied joys of feast- ed sense, how blest as the immortal gods they would be! And truly, if man was but a more elegant sort of beast, and capable of no higher pleasures than those of sense, these Mahometan dreamers might be more than half in the right. In that case health and competence might very well serve our turn ; as with the one we might purchase, and with the other enjf.y all the happiness of which we were ca- pable. But since God has been so good as to raise 110 IMMORTAL MF.NTOR. us many degrees above mere animal nature ; since he has together with bodies, given us iminoital minds, endowed with faculties and affections capa- ble of angelic joys, it follows very delightfully, U at anothe-r guess bi'.l of fare must be made out for ts, than that which would serve Epicurean hogs. Those gentlemen who are so fond of stinting themselves to mere bodily pleasures, wouuldo \\ ell to re.nembcr, that every rank of animated injure must h avc its proper gratifications or be miserable. Furnish earth and water to a plant, and it shall look green, and flourish like a cedar in Lebanon ; but give nothing but this to a horse, and he shall pre- sently perish for want of nutriment. Again, give grass and water to a horse, and he shall look plump as pampered speculation ; but confine a man to gr.»ss and water, and you shall soon write hie jacet on his tomb. Thus every link in the great chain of being has its respective capacities and enjoyments. Man is favoured with these in a degree of perfection above all the creatures that we have seen. lie pos- sesses, harmoniously blended in himsr.-lf, the vari- ous excellencies of two different natures : together with a relish for all the pleasures of the most pet feet animal, he can boast capacities equal to the sublime delights of celestial spirits ; now to suppose that so exalted, I ha.d almost said so divine a creature IMMORTAL METs'TOil. Ill as thio, can be satisfied with enjoyments that belong to the poorest and meanest part of his nature, were afar greater absurdity, than to suppose that an ani- mal of the most delicate taste and sense, can be con- tent with earth and water, the simple nutriment of a plant. Accordingly we find that experience has ever evinced the mistake of those, who have expected, that sensual goods alone could make tftm happy. This is not a novel opinion, but seems to have been a favourite notion of some in the d:ys cf King So- lomon, who resolved to examine the truth or false- hood of it. Never man enjoyed equal opportuni- ties ; he had gold and silver as the stones in the val- lies for abundance ; and in wisdom he far exceeded all the sages of the East- The whele force of his wisdom and wealth he determined to employ on the experiment. <» Behold ("said he) I will get me down and make me great works, and build me houses, and plant me vineyards, and make me gar- dens and pools of water. 1 will get me men siiigers and woir.cn singers, and all the delights of the sons of men ; and whatever mine eyes desire I will not keep from them." When every thing is thus plan- ned i>y himself, and executed according to his direc- tion, surely he is arrived to the accomplishment of liis wishes, and has ascended to the summit of all 112 IMMORTAL MENTOR. human happiness. The poor, who are taken with fine shows, would conclude so : Solomon certainly knows best; let us ask*him, What does he soy ? " Lo| I looked on all the works that mine hands had wrought, and on the labour that I had laboured to do, and behold all was vanity and vexation of spi- rit, and there was no profit under the sun." Well, gentlemen, you, I mean who think that if you had but an abundance of riches, and health to enjoy them, you could not fail to be happy. What do you think of having against you such a formidable case in point as this ? Are you not beginning to suspect that you may have been under a mistake all this time ? Sup- press not the friendly suspicion : Instead of repin- ing, you should rejoice to find that you have been in error. Have you not abundant cause of joy, that riches and health uith all their springs and streams of pleasure, are not alone sufficient to quench your thirst of happiness, nor able to fill up the vast capa- cities of your nature ? After conquering one world, Alexander sat down and wept, that he had not ano- ther into which he could push his victories : But, thank God, we have not his cause of complaint. For after having pushed our conquests through all those regions of innocent enjoyment which be- long to our animal nature, we can enter upon the IMMORTAL MENTOR. 113 far wider provinces of reason and affection, and possess ourselves of all the sublime pleasures of angels, i. e. the pleasures of knowledge, imagina- tion, virtue, friendship and love. When asked, therefore, Wherein consists the true happiness of man ? We readily answer, that as the happiness of a mere animal consists in exercising its appetites on such goods as as are suited to its nature and ca- pable of gratifying all its senses ; so the true happi- ness of man consists in exercising his faculties on such objects as are suited to his rational nature, and capable of delighting his soul through all her vari- ous affections. But where is that infinite good ?' Who is that wondrous being that can feast the facul- ties, and satisfy the desires of an immortal mind ? Tis God ; and he alone in whose ineffable perfec- tions the whole world of rationals will find enough, and more than enough, to employ their admiration and delight through eternal ages. Accordingly we find that Christ, when asked what a man should do to be truly happy, replied, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy mind ; and thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." In this admirable reply, which for sublimity of piety and philanthrope, and for profound wisdom 11 li-i IMMORTAL MENTOR. and philosophy, deserves everlasting veneration, we learn three very important lessons. I. That the chief good or true happiness of man consists in hia mind. II. In the affections of his mind. And III. In those affections directed to worthy objects. I. He who was perfectly acquainted with our na- ture, places the' supreme happiness of man in his mind. How strange soever it may seem, yet most certain it is, that this ever was, and still is a new doctrine to the bulk of mankind. For not only the numerous sect of ancient Epicureans, and sensual Mahometans, but the generality of Christians to this day, place the seat of happiness in the body. Talk to them about the pleasures of the under- standing, or the still sublimer pleasures of devo- tion, and your words seem not to be^nderstood; but shift the subject, and talk about the pleasures of inheriting large estates, of living at ease and faring sumptuously every day, and immediately you per- ceive, by their smiling countenances and ieady con- versation, that you have awakened their favourite ideas, and that these are the things which lie near est to their hearts. That the goods of the body constitute some small part of man's happiness, and that therefore they IMMORTAL MENTOR. 11 o ejglit to be valued, and, as far as conscience and a regard to higher interests will permit, should be sought after, is evident. Bui that these goods and pleasures of the body, constitute man's >upreme happiness, is one of the most degrading, danmablo errors, that ever was broached. No man who understands the dignity of his immortal part, and who entertains a proper love for himself and his fellow men, can hear such a proposition without abhorrence and indignation. What! shall happi- ness which all so vehemently desire, and so hearti- ly pray for, both for themselves and for others ; shall happiness, the. bare hope of which revives the heart, ana does good like u medicine ; which gives strength to the weak, and courage to the fearful; which animates us through life ; nor deserts us in death— Shall this./bttctes* wish, this sweetest expec- tation of ail men, consist merely in the goods and :ieasures of \\vz body. Consider, thou cruel mur- derer of thyself; thou barbarous assassin of human kind, how few ever attain those pleasures to which :hou stupidly confinest the happiness of man ; how iewcr still ever enjoy them, and how soon death will snatch them out of the hands of those who are so fortunate \ Reflect what unnumbered millions arc boin to no better inheritance than poverty and, bond- age, and who, instead of being caressed in the soft lap of case and pic•.'.;• ur-.-, arc driven through life by 116 IMMORTAL MENTOR. the scourge of cruel tyrants, or more cruel wants ! hard put to it to get a little bread, and sometimes never get it, at least not comfortably ; but fiom va- rious causes, eat it all their lives long in bitterness of soul! And of those seemingly happy ones who possess all the goods of the body, How few enjoy them without alloy ? How many, by abusing these blessings, contract diseases which render fleeting life one continued scene of sorrow and suffering ? And in those apparently fortunate cases, where the greatest abundance ol sensual goods accompanied with health and power of enjoyment; yet, alas.' how soon does enjoyment consume the little good which they contained, and leave the wealthy glutton to languish under indifference, to fret through disap- pointment, and to sigh for something else ? Cast your eyes on that pale bloated figure. It is the Emperor Heliogabalus, corrupted by the brutal- izing sophistry of Epicures, i. e. that the pleasures of the body constitute man's only happiness, he re- solved to be happy to some purpose. All Italy was taxed ; all Asia robbed to support his luxury ; every region of the earth was explored ; every element ransacked to furnish his table. All that bounteous nature bestows of rare and delicious among her birds, beasts, fishes, fruits and spices; and all these prepared by the nicest hand of cookery, were IMMORTAL MENTOR. fr7 served up to feast and delight his appetites. Surely, if luxurious ease and delicious fare were happiness, IMiogabalus must have been blest indeed. Tho discontent visible in his countenance proves the re- verse. Could you ask him, he would tell you that his pleasures are at best but vain, and too frequently vexatious. Sometimes he was mortified, because, through defect of appetite, he could not enjoy his delicious morsels. At other times, tempted by their luscious flavour, he fed to an excess, which brought on him a variety of painful and loathsome diseases. And at all times it was matter of grief to him, that the pleasures of eating and drinking should soon be over. This circumstance caused one of the Roman emperors to quarrel with his own constitution, and to wish in ail the rage of disappointed pleasure, that he had the stomach of a horse, that he might enjoy the satisfaction of eating ten times as much as its present scanty capacities would allow. And another emperor, for the same swinish reason, preferred his petition to the Gods, that they would grant him a neck as long as that of a crane, vainly hoping, that he should thereby the longer enjoy the dear pleasure of swallowing. But granting the sensuality an utter exemption from all the ills and vexations of gluttony ; that his coveted dainties are ajl served up in the most invit- 11* 118 IMMORTAL MENTOR. ing style of perfection ; that his fruits are lusiously ripe and fresh ; his meats tender and delicious.y fla- voured; his cookery the most exquisite in the world, and his wines equal to the nectar of Jove. And granting too that he has an appetite to season, and health to enjoy all these dainties, yet alas ! how boon must the season of enjoyment be over with him for ever ! Old age will presently steal on him ; his nerves must soon grow hard and dull, and lose their delicate edge and sensibility, and then, though he may sit down, yet can he not enjoy his dainty mor- sels. Behold, I am now (said the rich old Barzillai) .'ourscore years old, and can I discern what is savo- ry ? Can I taste what I eat or what I drink : or can I hear the voice of singing men and singing women ? After this humiliating period, what sad dishonours will sickness and death soon bring upon the body, the gluttons pampered pride \ His cheeks once so plump and rosy, are now pale and emaciated. His skin, formerly so smooth and po- lished, is now deformed with wrinkles. His body once straight and erect, is now crooked and bent with years. His limbs, late so nimble and active, are n^w stiff and scarcely able to move. And-he who forty years ago possessed all the bloom and vigour of fuil formed manhood, is now shrunk away LMMORT\L MENTOK. 119 K to mere skin and bone, and experiences all the ' helplcsness of a second childhood. Supported on his crutches or cane, he attempts to move, but it is with difficulty and pain. liis knees knock against each other through weakness. His hands tremble, and his whole body shakes as with an ague. In a little time his infirmities prevail; his body, though but the shadow of his former self, is now to) heavy for his exhausted strength. In a low faultering voice, be begs to be led to his bed, and there lies down never more to rise. Nature now sinks apace ; his heart labours ; his breast heaves; his breathing becomes slurt and quick; his eyes are hollow and sunk ; his voice grows hoarse; he rattles in the throat; his limbs wax cold ; his teeth turn black; he foams at the mouth ; a feeble convulsion shakes his frame, and, with a deep groan, his unwilling spirit takes her leave. Immediately putrefaction and worms begin their losthsome office ; and in a little time, this pamper- ed, idolized flesh, returns to the dust of which it was formed. Who can contemplate this picture, and not be- wail with tears of blood, the madness of those who expect their only happiness from such a vile body ! O how infinitely superior to these miserable dtnu- tfw IMMORTAL Mr.NlOK. sions is the Heaven descended philosophy of Jesus Christ J In mat divine religion, the body, instead of being exalted as the teat of happiness, is deprc- ciatedas the principal cause of our misery, being, as the poet expresses it, not only a no:st of pain and bag of corruption, bui the most fruitful source ot our sins and sorrows. Christ seldom mentions the body, except to expose its comparative worthless- ness, and to caution us against its defiling lusts. In every part of the sacred volume, you hear his voice exclaiming with all the earnestness of paren- tial affection : " Woe be to him that trustetb, in the bo ly, arid maketh flesh his hope, for wherein is it to be relied on ? Its origin is but dust, its beauty is but a flower, its ife but a vapour, and its duration but a moment. Pain and weariness accompany it while living, corruption and worms seize on it when dead. O let not thine heart decline to its lusts, and yield not to its enticements, for they have cast down many wounded ; yea, many strong men have been slain by them ; their way is the way to hell, going down by the chambers of death. But though in the body thou canst find no true content, yet Link of thy soul and rejoice, for she is more pre- cious than silver, yea much fine gold is not to be compared unto,her. Her beginning is from the breath of the Almighty, and her duration is as the days of eternity. She was made but a little lower IMMORTAL MENTOR. 121 than the angels, and heaven was prepared of old for the place of her habitation. Wouldst thou be happy, deck her with the jewels of piety, and cloath her with virtue as wiih a garment; then shall the lamp of the Almighty shine into thy heart, and joy shall be thy constant companion. When thou walk- est by the way, thy foot shall not stumble; and when thou liest down thy sleep shall be sweet. In the day of thy sickness thou shalt not be afraid, and when death cometh upon thee, thou shalt laugh him to scorn; for the Lord of hosts is thy friend, and underneath thee are the everlasting arms. He shall say unto thee, fear not, thou worm Jacob, for I am with thee ; be not dismayed for I am thy God. Then shall he strip off thee the vile rags of morta- lity, and cloath thee with the garments of salvation. He shall wipe from thine eyes the tear of sorrow, and anoint thy face with the oil of gladness. He shall conduct thee into his own city, the city of the living God, and unto the general assembly of angels, and spirits of just men made perfect. He shall give thee to drink with them of his rivers of pleasure, and to feast on joys at his right hand forever more." Thus splendid are the honour, and felicities of which the soul of man is capable. These are ;h." eternal goods to which Christ intreats us to aspire-; 122 IMMORTAL MriNTOK. and for the sake of which, he bids us despise the low unsatisfactory pleasures of a dying body. What divine goodness, what perfect wisdom, &rfc blended in that philosophy, which enjoins us to seek our happiness in the mind and not in the body. In that part of our nature which exalts us to GoJ, and not in that which depresses us to the brute. In that part of us which will live forever, and not in that which is daily in danger of dropping into the grave. In that papt of us which can enjoy the noble plea- sures of tl.e glorious one in Heaven, and not in that whose few pleasures are in common with the crea- tures of the stalls and styes. But our divine Philosopher places the supreme happiness of man, not only in the mind, as we have just seen, but II. In the affections of the mind, This also will appear to many as a strange aaying. It must expect to combat, not only the prejudices of coarse Epicures, but the more serious doubts of many who seem to be more refined and rational in their schemes of happiness. Many, even of those, who disdaining a vile body, sunk their happiness in the immcM'tal mind, have never yet dreamed that it IM.MORTAL MU.NTOR. 123 Consists in the affections, but have sought it rather in the improvements of the understanding. Observ- ing the great respect that is paid to men of learning^ and remembering the high entertainment which they themselves have derived from the conversation of such men, they conclude that learning must be the brightest ornament and highest happiness of human nature. In their estimation, the man whose com- prehensive mind takes a wide survey of the work? of God, and of the inventions of men ; who soa^sin- to the Heavens, and calls the stars byname ; calcu- lates eclipses, and foretells comets; who thence goes down into the depths of the sea, and explains the causes of its ceaseless motions ; who traverses the boundless regions of the earth, knows all their kingdoms, with the glory of them ; who speaks vari- ous languages, fathoms the depths of arts and scien- ces, understands the history of nations, the laws and government of all people. This, in their estimation, s the truly happy man. In a mind thus richly fur nished,he possesses (as they suppose) the materials of an enjoyment, of which nothing can ever deprive him. Far be it from me to speak disrespectfully of learning, for certainly learning or wisdom is the pia ■mater, or first attribute of God himself, and the vast circumference within which lies all the happiness 124 IMMORTAL MENTOK thathumanor angelic minds can enjoy. But this I say, that ail the learning in the world, if separated from the affections, can never make us truly happy : And that these splendid attainments in science were never intended to form the supreme happiness of man, is evident, because the bulk of mankind are not capable of becoming great scholars and philoso- phers. Alas! what numbers, after all the pains that have been taken with them, never learn even to read their mother tongue with propriety ! How many, who afier a seven year's apprenticeship, and a whole life's employment, never learn to fit on a handsome boot or shoe • Many born with genius equal to the attainment of learning, are constrained to live and die in ignorance, for want of means to de- fray the expense of education ; while others are obliged to stop in the middle of-their career, and to give up the fond hopes of knowledge, because of a constitution too delicate to bear the fatigues of study. But granting to the lover of learning, every advantage of genius, constitution and fortune, that ever fell to the lot of the most favored of mankind, what mighty acquisitions can be made by him whose genius is, at best, but dulness, and whose days arc but a moment! When he considers the secrets of art, so multiplied and mysterious, he sits down in desp. r. When he contemplates the works of God, so infinite and unsearchable, the spirit fair '.s within tMMO:>TAL MRXTOR. 126 him, and he seems to himself, but as a feather float- ing oh the surface of a mighty ocean, whose won- ders he can never explore. And were he asked for the sum of his learning, he would, if honest, take up the lamentation of the old philosopher, and reply, that after the vain toils of threescore years, he has learned to know that he knows nothing. But admitting that he has acquired that Stock of learning on which vain mortals are so adventurous as to set up for masters and doctors. Admitting that he his learned languages, studied arts and sciences, Sec. &c. What is there in all this to make him hap- py, or to satisfy the desires of an immortal mind ? As to languages, what folly to dream as some do, of great wisdom and honour to be found in learning them ! For, what is language but words or sounds by which we communicate our thoughts to one ano- ther ? If these words or sounds had the power like charms, to brighten oir wits, or better our hearts, this language-mongery would be a noble specula- tion ; but, alas ! instead of making us wiser, these learned languages often make us greater fools. For, allowing, that after an expense of five years, and of at least as many hundred pounds, a young man has learned enough to give his horse a Latin or Greek name ; What mighty advantages does he derive from this pretty art of nick-naming God's creatures' 12 126 IMMORTAL MENTOR. Does it teach him any new ideas relat'nc to the na- ture and qualities of a horse ? Or can it furnish him one useful receipt in farriery, or a single rule for the better management and choice of that noble ani- mal? Evidently, therefore, the summum bonum, or chief good of man, does not consist in dead languages. And as to systems of human learning^ from which some fondly expect unfailing pleasure and eternal honour, what are they, frequently, but systems of human error, monuments of the pride of man, who, impatient to be thought ignorant of any thing, bold- ly seizes fancy for fact, and conjecture for evidence, and with these fairy workmen, presently run up vast Babels of philosophy, vainly so called. A whole lifetime is hardly sufficient to understand these pompous errors j and scarcely are they understood, before they are exploded to make room for some other set of notions, equally vain and perishable. But, admitting that we have turned our studies to the noblest of human sciences, sciences founded on truth, and promising much entertainment and useful knowledge ; yet, alas ! full soon shall experience prove the truth, of the remark made by Solomon, th. t (i In much learning is much irouble ; and he * IMMORTAL MENTOR. 127 who increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow." See I how enviously, sharp thorns and briars shoot up among the sweet flowers which we expected to gather. To make any considerable progress in sci- ences, we must renounce some of the freedom and amusements of life ; this is mortifying ; confine- ment is wearisome ; hard study fatigues the brain ; intense thinking sours the temper ; slow progress is disheartening ; doubts are vexatious ; and pre- sently darkness and thick clouds gather over the path of science, and forbids us to proceed any far- ther. Surely man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain. But supposing that we could understand all hu- man sciences in the most perfect degree, how very short lived would be the pleasures arising from them • When first made, and fresh on the mind, the discoveries of truth are highly gratifying to cu- riosity, but in a short time they become familiar, and thence almost insipid. Hence we often see learned men as discontented and peevish as others ; a plain proof that human learning opens no spring of lasting happiness in the mind. Indeed, so far from producing this very desirable effect, it frequently nurses passions the most unfriendly to his happi- ness, both in this world and the next. The brighter talents and superior fame of a rival wit, often pierce fc$ IMMORTAL MENTOR. his heart with the keenest pangs of envy; success puffs him up with pride, and renders him insuffera- bly disagreeable ; disappointment fires him with rage, or sinks him into despondency : While the flash of an unguarded witticism often loses him a valuable friend, or creates a mortal enemy. But al- lowing that he were the greatest scholar and orator of the age, or could harangue on any subject, with all the force of argument and charms of eloquence : that whenever he appeared, the impatient crowds repaired to hear the magic of his enchanting tongue: that princes were his patrons, and the great ones of the earth his admirers ; yet how vain and treacher- ous a good would all this be ! How utterly unwor- thy to be coveted as the chief good of man ! For yet but a few fleeting years, and the cold hand of age will be on him, and then, alas ! all these fine talents and blooming honours, shall perish as the lovely flower perishes when touched by the killing frosts of winter. His wit shall sparkle no more ; nor shall his fancy charm us with the splendor of its imag.es, nor his mind astonish us with the vastness of her conceptions ; his memory must then give up all her precious treasures ; and dumb forever will be that tongue whose eloquence, like sweetest mu- sic, soothed each listening ear, and led in triumph r!1 the obedient passions^ IMMORTAL MENTOR. 129 And are* such fading accomplishments as these, fit food for -an immortal soul that was born fo" Heaven ? But although this acknowledged vanity and vexa- tion ol human learning, sufficiently proves the sad mistake of those who make an idol of it; yet let us not, on the other hand, run into the equal error of such as trample it under their feet as vain and worth- ',<:ss altogether. Along with its dross, it contains much useful metal, for the sake of which we may well afford to toil. Even the languages, though the hast necessary of all human learning, are not entirely without their uses. We may chance to fall in with a poor foreign- er who has not broken English enough to tell us his wants. We may get honest bread by interpreting, translating, er teaching languages. Or should it be our foitune to stand behind a counter, we may, with the help of a little bad trench, sell a great deal of good merchandize. We may likewise find much pleasure in reading the enchanting works of foreign poets, historians, &c. and this effect may lead to one still more valuable ; it may inspire us with senti- ments of friendship for the nation to which these excellent men belong, and ti.ua happily moderate that resentment, w.neh, under certain circum.sia.n- 130 IMMORTAL MENTOR. ces we might.feel against them. These effects, in a very comfortable degree, I have myself experi- enced. I have found, that my passions, kindling in- to pain from the blows struck our unoffending coun- try, by the British, have been considerably calmed by recollecting, that these our injurers, are the chil- dren of the same once glorious island which gave to us and to all mankjnd, a Milton, a Newton, a Locke, a Barrow, ..nd other unequalled lights of philosophy and divinity, whose friendly splendours have contri- buted so happily to repel the coming clouds of "chaos and old night," and to establish the empire of reason and pure religion. Hitherto we have endeavoured to point out the mistake of those, (a numerous race) who look for happiness among sensual pleasures, and in human learning. Two other orders of candidates, equally numerous, and, as I think, equally mistaken, present themselves,—I mean the hardy sons of avarice and ambition. The first of these, the miser, blesses God ; wonders how people can be so weak as to throw away their time and money on book learning and silly pleasures. He has juster notions of things. Gold is with him the one thing needful. He rises early, late takes rest, and eats the bread of careful- ness and toil, in- order to join house to house and IMMORTAL MENTOR. 131 field to field, and thus to remove himself far from all dread of want. But of wealth it may be said, happiness is not here. Gold, it is true, is the quintessence of lands, houses, soft cloathing, sumptuous fare, and of every other pleasure that flesh and blood is heir to. But evident it is to reason, that all the treasures on earth can ne- ver satisfy an immortal soul: And Scripture asserts, that "A man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.'' And whose ex- perience doth not witness it ? Wc call the rich happy 1 Alas J could we but see* their anxious cares, their inward restlessness, the miseries of de- sires delayed or disappointed, winch sometimes at- tend even the most fortunate ; could we know their constant fears of losing, and their thirst for more, which suffers them not to enjoy their present gains; could we follow one who is " making haste to be rich,'' through all his toils and labours, his weary days and sleepless nights, and all his var'.ous vexa- tions, we should be fully convinced of the truth of this, that he who increaseth riches, inert as And then the same love that inflicted this whole- some chastisement repeats the complaint. O my brethren, see nere the design and end of all God's chastisements J " Yet have ye not returned to met,y These are the views in which the divine lover is taught to contemplate the afflictive dispensations of his God ; not as the messengers of his wrath, but as the ministers of his mercy, and the great means of wisdom and virtue. Such views ol God's adorable government, impart the most sensible consolation to every pious heart. They place the compassions of the universal Father, in the most endearing light. And these afflictions, which human follies render ne- cessary; instead of estranging, do but the more closely attach -a good man to his God. "Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shallfrv.it I.- IMMORTAL MENTOR. 159 in (he vine ; the labour of the olive shalLfail, and the fields shall yield no meat : yea, though the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet, will I rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my saluation" But a supreme love of God adds unspeakably to the happiness of life, b cause it raises us superior to the dread of di a 1. To form a tolerable idea of the m gnitude of this blessing, let us visit the death bed of him who is about to depart without love or hope in his God. Behold him arrested by the strong arm of death, and stretched out hopeless and despairing on that last bed from which he is to raise no more. Art has done its all ; the mortal malady mocks the power of medicine, and hastens with resistless impetuosity to execute its dreadful errand. See the thick gloom that covers his ghastly countenance, and the wildntss and horror that glare on his rolling eye-balls! Whither now is fled that giddy thoughtlessness which marked his mad career through life ? Where now are his scoffs, his sneers, his pleasantries on religion ? Where are his boon companions who joined him in his dull profanity, and who applauded the keenness of his satire and the brillancy of his wit ? Alas ! such scenes these are not for them. To cheer the drooping spirits of wretchedness, and to ad mi- 160 IMMORTAL MENTOR. nister consolation to a dying friend is no employment of theirs. In far different scenes they are now for- getting their no longer entertaining friend, and their present alarming thoughts. Unhappy man! wherever he turns his eyes, he sees none but subjects of sorrow and distress. For- saken by those whom l.c fondly called his friends; cut off from all the p'easures and cheerful pursuits of men, abandoned to the horrors of a dying chamber, with no sensations but those of a tortured body ; no comforter but a guilty conscience, and no society but such as fills his troubled mind with shame and remorse; a weeping wife whom he has injured; children whose best interests he has neglected; ser- vants whom he had treated with cruelty ; and neigh- bours with whom he had long lived at shameful vari- ance—Whither shall he look for help i If he look backw. rd, he sees nothing but scenes of horror, a precious life misspent, an immortal soul neglected; and, O insupportable thought! his clay of trial at out to set forever. If he looks up to Heaven for mercy, comcious guilt depresses his spiiits and over- whelms him with despair. Ah ! what mortal scene can well be conceived more fraught with wretched- ness ! Shuddering, he stands upon the brink, afraid to die, and yet, alas ! unable to live. IMMORTAL MENTOR. 161 '«»In that dread moment, how the frantic soul raves round the walls of her clay tenement ; runs to each. avenue and shrieks for help, but shrieks in vain ; how wishfully she looks on all she's leaving, now no longer hers .' a little longer, yet a little longer: O .' might she stay to wash away her crimes and ft her for her passage! Mournful sight ! her very eyes weep blood; and every groan she heaves with horror; but the foe, like a staunch murderer, steady to his pur- pose, pursues her close through every lane of life, nor misses once the truck, but presses on, till forced at last to the tremendous verge—at once she sinks.'' BLAIR. This, or very similar to this, is often the end of him who has lived without God in the world. But turning from so distressing a scene, to its happy opposite, let us view the man who loves his God, and who enamoured with its beauty, and sen- sible of its blessed effects, has lived a life of piety and virtue. Let us behold him when about to leave this world of sorrow and suffering and to wing his way to that which is far better. Lo \ the time is come that Israel, the lover of God, must die. The last sickness has seized his feeble frame. He perceives that the all conquering foe is at hand, but marks his ap- proach without dismay. He is not afraid of death 15 162 IMMORTAL MENTOR. because he fears God, " and he who fears God has nothing else to fear." He is not afraid of death, because it has long beea his care to make a friend (the almighty and everlast- ing Jehovah), who shall stand by him in that awful hour. He is not afraid of death, because he loves God above all things ; and to him, to die, is to go to see and live with God. Is the poor hireling afraid of the earning, which is to refresh him with repose, and to rejoice him with his reward ? Is the soldier, covered with scars and tired of Wars alarms, afraid to hear the cry of victory ? O no! de- lightful sound, sweeter than music to his longing ear; it is the signal to return to his native country, and to resign the din and danger of war for the sweets and safety of long coveted peace. Even so, to the good Christian this world is the fitl 1 of hard, though glorious warfare. In the ser- vice, and under the eye of God, he is now fighting against the armies of his own fleshly lusts, and of his own malignant passions. Ever and anon, he hears the voice of his great Captain—Ftr&evrrt ■and thou shalt conquer; endure unto the end and IMMORTAL MENTOR. 163 thou shalt be crowned. To him therefore the day of death is welcome as the last day of his toils and dangers. He is now going to exchange a long con- flicting war for the blessings of everlasting peace: having fought the good fight, he is about to receive h:s wages, eveneternul life, and to put on a crown of glory that shall never fade away. Sure that serene look, beaming all the sweetness of love and hope, bespeaks the already half formed seraph ; and the heaven, almost opened on his placid countenance, gives glorious evidence of his intended journey. Soon bidding farewell forever to these realms of woe, and haunts of malignant beings, he shall join the blessed society of angels and spirits of just men made perfect. There he shall see health blooming eternal on each immortal face, friendship smiting on every glorified countenance, and a perfection of love forming a paradise of happiness, unknown and unconceived by us who have dwelt in the tents of hatred. But, above all, the sweetest motives to resigna- tion in death, he is now going to see him, whom of- tentimes with trembling joy, he has longed to see, even his Goa, his first, his last, his only friend, the author of his being and of all his mercies. Shortly shall he see his glorious faee unclouded with a frown, and hear from hi* ambrosial lips the laa- 164 IMMORTAL MENTOR. guage of approbation and affection—« Well dorft good and faithful servant." Praising God for advancing him to such an height of honor, and for setting before him such an eternity of happiness: Praising God for all the loving kind- nesses that have accompanied him through life, and especially for that greatest of all, the grace that brought him to repentance and a good life: earnestly exhorting his friends to that love of God, which now not only supports, but enables him even to triumph in this dying hour, an hour so alarming to the fears of nature: rejoicing in a sense of the pardon of his sins, and exulting in the hopes of the glory to be re- vealed, he breathes out his soul with these victori- ous words,—<{ Into thy handB, O God, I commend my spirit." Well may his friends, edified by such an example, cry out with weeping joy,—" Who can count the rewards of wisdom, or number the fourth part of the Messings of virtue ? Let us die the death of the righteous, and let our latter end be like theirs." But divine love not only renders life pleasant, and death peaceful, but it accompanies us into heaven, and there gives us to enjoy the most exquisite plea- sures, that God himself can confer on happy souls : IMMORTAL MENTOR. 165 For there we shall always live in the presence of God, the great fountain of all loveliness and glory, and shall love him with ten thousand times more ardour than we now do, or even can imagine; for the longer we behold, the more we shall know him, and the more we know, the better we shall love him; and so through everlasting ages, bur love shall be extending and enrapturing itself with his infinite beauty and loveliness. Now love is the sweetest and happiest of all passions, and it is merely by accident that it is accompanied with any disquieting or pain- ful feelings. Either the person beloved is absent, which corrodes it w-th unquiet desire, or he is un- happy, or unkind, which embitters it with grief; or he is fickle and inconstant, which inflames it with rage and jealousy ; but, separated from a 1 these disagreeable accidents, and it is all pure delight and joy. But in heaven, our love of God will In've none of these disquieting circumstances attending it; for there he will never be absent from us, but will be contin lally entertaining our amorous minds with the prospect of his infinite beauties. There we shall al- ways feel his love to us in the most sensible and en- dearing effects, even in the glory of that crown which he will set upon our heads, and in the ravish- ing sweetness of those joys which he will infuse into' 15* 166 IMMORTAL MENTOR. our hearts. There we shall experience the conti- nuation of his love in the continued fruition of all that an everlasting heaven means, and be convinced, as well by the perpetuity of his goodness to us, as well as by the immutability of his nature, that he Is an unchangeable lover. And there we shall find him a most happy being, happy beyond the vastest wish- es of our love; so that we shall not only delight in him, as he is infinitely lovely, but rejoice and tri. umph in him too as he is infinitely happy. For love unites the interests, as well as the hearts of lovers, and gives to each, the joys and felicities of the other. So that in that blessed state we shall share in the felicity of God proportionably to the degree of our love to him: For the more we love him, the more we shall still espouse his happy interest; and the more we are interested in his happiness, the hap- pier we must be, and the more wc must enjoy of it, Thus love gives us a real possession and enjoyment of God ; it makes us copartners with him in him- self, derives his happiness upon us, and makes it as really ours as his. So that God's happiness is, as it were, the common bank and treasury of all divine lovers, in which they have every one a share, and of which, proportionably to the degrees of their love to him, they do all draw and participate to all eternity. And could they but love him as much as he deserves, that is infinitely, they would be as infinitely blessed IMMORTAL MENTOR. 16? and happv as he is: For then aH his happiness would be theirs, and they would have the same delightful sense and feeling ot it, as if it were all transplanted into their own bosoms. Gud,u»ertf te being an in- finitely lovely, infinitely ioving, and infinitely happy being, when wc come to dwell forever in his blessed presence, our love to him can be productive of none but sweet and vavishing emotions; for the immense perfections it will then find in its object, must ne- cessarily refine it from all those fears and jealousies, those griefs and displeasures that are mingled with our earthly loves, and render it a most pure delight and complacency. So that when thus refined and grown up to the perfection of the heavenly state, it will be all heaven, it will be an eternal paradise of de- lights within us, a living spring whence rivers of pleasures will flow for evermore. These, O man, are some of the golden fnrts t*at grow upon the tree of divine love. Happy, there- fore, is the man, beyond all expression ot words, beyond all conception of fancy, happy is he who ob- taineth this angelic virtue ! " For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies, and all the things that thou canst desire are not to be compared 188 IMMORTAL MENTOR. unto her. She is a trv e of life to them that lay hold Hpon her, and happy is every one that retaineth her." Since a supreme love of Grd is the only true wealth of an immortal mind, O ! with what dili- gence should we apply ourselves to obtain it ! Wc are all ready enough to acknowledge out obliga- tions to God, and to own that it is our duty to love him, but still complain of the difficulty that attends it. But let us remember that this difficulty is chargeable upon ourselves, and is the effect of our own shameful inconsideration. Taken up with the little cares of life, we neglect and forget God *, hence it is not surprising that we do not love him.— Would we but often think of him, what he is in himself, and contemplate h m in the full blaze of his wonderful and amiable perfections,' we should be overwhelmed with delightful admiration of him, and easily take up the most exalted esteem and friend- ship for him. And were we but frequently to con- sider him, what he is lou-, how infinitely conde- scending, generous and good, we should soon feel our hearts melting into all the tenderness of love and gratitude. We, none of us think it hard to love the tender mother that brought us into the world, tie fond father who supplies our wants, or the attentive teacher who instructs us in useful and ornamental IMMORTAL MENTOR. 169 knowledge ; ah ! why then should we think it hard to love our God ? Did we but reflect, we should soon perceive that he is really and truly our mother, our father and our teacher ; and that those whom we honour as such, are, properly speaking, only the in- struments of his goodness to us. Sylvia arrived to the years of maturity, receives the addresses of a young and accomplished lover. Sylvia blushes and likes him. Yo thful modesty causes her to hesitate a while, yet, unable to resist so much merit, she at length yields to the impulse of a virtuous passion and marries. In due season she becomes a mother. Now, what has Sylvia hitherto done for her child ? The whole is the work of God. When he laid the foundations of the heavens and the earth, he had this child in view, and disposed, from so remote a period, a long chain of events, which were to terminate in his nativity. The time being come for the opening of this bud, he was pleased to place it in Sylvia's womb, and took care himself to cherish and unfold it. That this child should love and honour his mother is what he certainly ought to do, for she has suffered, if not for his sake, at least through him, the inconvc- niencies of pregnancy, and the pains of child-birth. But let him carry his grateful acknowledgements iro IMMORTAL MENTOR. still higher, and not imitate those superstitious idol- aters, who, seeing the earth yearly covered wiih corn, fruits and pastures, stupioly worshipped this blind instrument of the bounties of their Sovereign Lord, without ever thinking to praise the powerful arm from whence it derives its fruitfulncss. Charles loves his father Eugenis. Charles does well; but what has Eugenis done for Charles l Eu- genis has not, it is true, resembled that proud pa- rent who beggars the rest of his children in order to swell the fortune of an elder brother. Nor is he like that stern tyrannical father who never looks at his children but with fury, never speaks to them but in a passion, never instructs them but by threats, and corrects them like a butcher and a murderer. Nor yet does he act like Florimond, that unnatural father, who lives like a stranger in his own house; goes in and out, drinks, games, and saunters; mean- while his neglected children grow up to the years of maturity; happy indeed if of themselves inclinable to virtue, they make any attainments in useful knowledge and accomplishments, or think of settling in the world ; for as to his part, he never troubles his head about them. No, far unlike ihese, Eugenis is the best of parents ; he spares no pains nor ex- pense to render his son Charles an ornament and a Wessing to his> country. He accustoms him by times IMMORTAL MENTOR. VTl to a temperate diet, furnishes him with decent appa- rel, and charges the ablest masters with his instruc- tion ; he carefully teaches him his relation to God, and his obligations to that best of beings ; and, at the same time, by pre< ept and example, endeavours to inspire him with the love of justice, honour and in- dustry. These are, to be sure, the dearest expres- sions of a father's lcve, and hard and detestable in- deed would be Charles' bosom, if he could refuse to love such a parent; but let him remember, that all this comes ultimately from God j for we should al- ways ascend to this original of blessings. When Eu- genis watched for his son's preservation, it was God who preserved him ; when he took care to instruct him, it was God who opened his understanding; and when he entertained him with the charms of virtue, it was God who excited him to love it. " The labourer digs the mine ; the philosopher directs the work ; but neither of them lurnish tfae gold which it contains.'1 But what heart so heard as to resist the golden shafts of love, especially when convng trom a friend that is far superior to us ? If some good and migh- ty prince were to invite us to his court, and to treat us with all the tenderness of parental affection, should we not find it a very easy thing to love him ? 172 IMMORTAL MENTOR. Now, has not this been the conduct of God our Maker? When we lay in all the obscurity of din-t, he sent a message of love, and called us into life, not the life of fluttering insects, but of infant immor- tals. For us, and for our sakes, he built this vast World ; he covered it with the canopy of the heavens, and stored it with good things innummerable. At his command the sun rises to gladden us with the golden day ; and the moon with silver beams to cheer the darkness of the night. He waters the hills from his secret chambers, and bids the clouds pour down their fattening showers upon the earth. Thus he covers our tables with bread to renew our strength, and with wine that makes glad our hearts. But he has not only compassed us round, like so many fortunate islands, with a vast ocean of good things for our bodies ; but he has likewise inspired us with immortal minds, and has endued them with the high capacities oi knowledge and love, whereby, as on golden ladders, we may ascend to the perfec- tion and happiness of celestial beings. And to gra- tify these our noble capacities, he has prepared for us a glorious heaven, and has furnished it with all the pleasures and delights that heavenly spirits can desire or enjoy Besides all this, he has sent his own sjn from heaven to reveal to us the way thither, IMMORTAL MENTOR. 173 and to encourage us to return into it by dying for our sins, and thereby obtaining for us a public grant and charter of mercy and pardon, on condition of our return : and, as if all this were too little, he hath sent his spirit to us in the room of his son, to reside amongst us, and, as his vicegerent, to carry on this vast design of his love to us, to excite and persuade us to return into the way leading to heaven, and to assist us all along in our good travels thither. Such wonderful care has he taken not to be defeated of this his kind intention to make us everlastingly hap- py. " O that men would therefore love the Lord for his goodness, and declare the wonders that he doth for the children of men." That these dear pledges of God's love may inspire our hearts with suitable returns of gratitude, we should often reflect on them, and spread them be- fore our minds in all their endearing circumstances. We should frequently set our cold and frozen affec- tions before these melting flames of his love, and never cease fanning the smoaking flax until we feel the heavenly fire beginning to kindle in our bosoms. And, while we are seeking *his Israel of great price, let us, as we hope for success, guard our in. nocence, as the trembling miser guards his hoarded gold. The bosom that burns with impure desires, 16 174 IMMORTAL MENTOR. or that is corroded with malignant passions, finds no delight in God. No, that is a happiness reserved only for the pure in heart, and for him who knows how to pity an offending brother. And, together with our own exertions, we should often implore the aid of ail assisting heaven. To him, who alone knows its inestimable worth, let our fer- vent prayers be constantly ascending. " Father of life and lcve, thou God supreme, O teach our hearts to love thee : For to whom, O Lord, shall we give our hearts but to thee ? Thou alone hast generously created them ; thou alone hasl infi- nitely deserved them; and thou alone canst com- pletely and eternally satisfy them." These prescriptions, faithfully observed, will soon produce in our hearts that love, whose joy passeth all understanding, that love, possessed of which, the poorest slave is passing rich; while without it, the sceptered monarch walks but in splendid poverty. He who loves God is the alone wise, dignified and happy man. For he loves the only good that is wor- thy the affections of an immortal mind. He loves a friend who alone possesses almighty power to pro- tect him, uneiring wisdom to counsel him, and inn- IMMORTAL MENTOR. 175 nite love to bless him. He loves an immortal friend who can never die and forsake him, and an unchange- able friend who will never requite his love with ne- glect. His love of God sweetens every duty, and makes the yoke of obedience to sit light. It heightens the smile of prosperity, and cheers the gloom of adver- sity. Blessings aie doubly dear coming from such a friend; and afflictions not unwelcome, when look- ed on as tokens of his no less tender love. Under the languors of sickness he remembers, not without sacred comfort, that the end of his sufferings is at hand; and even when this earthly tabernacle of his flesh is pulling down, he is not disconsolate ; he re- joices in the hope of that glorious house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. There, far re- moved from all the miseries of this mortal life, ad- vanced into the presence of him who made him, and accompanied by millions of loving and blessed spi- rits, he shall enjoy a happiness as far exceeding his expectations as his deserts:—" A happiness which eye hath not seen nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive.'! t / CHAPTER II. ON SOCIAL LOVE. This only can the bliss bestow, Immortal souls should prove, From one short word all pleasures flow, That blessed word is—love. Proud. THE first fruits of a creature's love are due to God, as to his Creator and the author of all his good; the second are due to men, as to his brethren and fellow sharers in the bounties of their common pa- rent. Having in the preceding chapter, demon- strated the importance of loving God, proceed we in this to consider the beauty and blessedness oi social love. To be caressed and beloved by all around us, is one of the dearest wishes of the human heart. It is a natural, it is a laudable wish. Great pains have 178 LMMORTAL MENTOR. been taken, and infinite expence incurred to attain this coveted honor, and yet the greater pari never attain it, merely through defect of love on their own part. Let beautjy, wit, gold, &c. boast and do all they can, yet will it be found in the end, that " In spite of all the dull mistaken elves, " They who would make us love, must love, themselves." Love is the universal charm. It possesses a beau- ty that wins and ravishes every heart. A single spark of it in generosity of dealing excites our ad- miration; a glimpse of it in courteous behaviour secures to a man our esteem, and sweetly endears him to us. How charming is the countenance that is brightened by the smiles of love J How sweet the voice that is tuned by the melody of Jove • How gladdening to the heart, the beams that sparkle from the eye of love J Indeed love, or goodness, which is but another name, is the only amiable thing in na- ture. Power and wealth may be respected, wit and beauty may be admired, but if separated from good- ness, they neither deserve nor can command our love: For the worst and most wretched of beings possess them in a very high degree. The prince of darkness has more power, and tyrannizes over more slaves by far than the Great Turk. One devil may have more wit than all the Achitophels in the IMMORTAL MENTOR. 179 world, and yet, with all his wit, he is very odious and miserable. Anu such, in proportion, is every one who partakes in his accursed disposition of ha- tred and malice. See how Pandorus is beloved and caressed. Is it because of his honesty ? Fhis vutue only gains our our esteem, but does not captivate the heart. Is it because he is beneficent and friendly ? Many who are so fond of his company have no need of his assist- ance. Is it because he is gay, humorous, and enter- taining? This would render him agreeable, only when gaiety is seasonab.e. No, he is more beloved than any other man in the world, only because he is the most affectionate man in it. He seems to live but to please, to oblige, and to serve his friends. II he find out what will please you, he prevents your de- sires, and does it with such an air of cheerfulness, that, while he has no other view than to oblige you, he seems to follow nothing but his own choice and inclinations. This charming complaisance of Pan- dorus was not learned in the school of the world; but is the rich fruit of his genuine benevolence. Hence it renders him equally endearing and equally agree- able, at all times, and to all ranks. He is not a sy- cophant to the great, and scornful or negligent of the poor ; he does not treat you to-day as a dear friend, and to-morrow knows you not, but uniformly his 18* IMMORTAL MENTOR. looks and manners are those of the man who con- siders both the rich and the poor as his brethren. If you love like Fandorus, and like him take a plea- sure in contributing to the haprincss of others,! will answer for the friendship of all who know you ; this is a perfection that will engage people at ak times, in all places, and on all occasions. But love not only renders us thus dear and desira- ble to others ; but it sheds the sunshine of sweetest peacevover our own minds. It delivers us from the tyranny of all those bad passions which make us mi- serable. Like a golden curb it checks the fierceness of anger, that dangerous storm and hurricane of the soul. A man can hardly be incensed against those whom he tenderly loves: an accidental neglect, a hasty word, a small unkindness, will not agitate a loving spirit,much less work it up tohztefxilfire-cycd fury. It banishes envy, that severely just vice which ne- ver fails to punish itself; for it is impossible to re- pine at the wealth or prosperity, at the virtue or fame of him whom we cordially love. It excludes revenge, that cruel canker of the heart; for who can indulge bitter resentments, or form dark designs of evil against him whom he tenderly loves, and in whose good he heartily delights ? IMMORTAL MENTOR. 181 It subdues ambition and avarice, those aspiring painful passions. For who could domineer over those whom he loves, and whose honour he tenders as his own ? Who could extort from and-impoverish those whom he earnestly wishes and would gladly see to prosper. A competence will seem like abundance to him who lives as among brethren, taking himself but for one among the rest, and can as ill endure to see them want as himself. It is in the prevalence of such bad passions as ihese, that human misery chiefly consists. Love is their only sovereign antidote. It alone subdues and expels their fatal poison, and thus restores health and happiness to our long tortured bosoms. Love, like a celestial queen, walks before, meekness and gentleness follow as her eldest daughters, while joy and peace, with all the sister graces, make up the immortal retinue. But love preserves us not only from our own, but from the malignant passions of others. Like sweet music, it has power to sooth the savage breast, to melt hearts of flint, and to tame the fiercest spirits. Its mild and serene countenance, its soft and gentle spirit, its courteous and obliging manners, its fair dealing, its endearing conversation, its readiness to do good services to any man, is the only charm un- m IMMORTAL MENTOR. der heaven to disarm the bad passkns of men, ard to guard our person from assault, our interest lrom da- mage, and our reputation lrom slandei. For who can be so unnatural as to hate the nun who loves us and is ever ready to do us good ? What wretch, what demon, can find in his heart to be a foe to him who is.a warm friend to all ? The vilest sinner cannot be so vile, so destitute of goodness. " 11 you love those who love you what reward have you, do not even sinners the same ?'' Of this wonderful power of love, to convert foes into friends, we have many pleasing examples in ho- ly writ. Esau was a rough man, and exceedingly angry with his brother Jacob, and yet how easily did Jacob's meek and affectionate behaviour over- come him ! " Esau rank to meet Jacob, and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept." Saul was possessed with a furious envy and spite against David. Yet what acknowledgemonts did David's generous dealing extort from him ? " Is this thy voice my son David ? Thou art more righteous than I, for thou hast rewarded me good, whereas I have rewarded thee evil; behold 1 have played the fool, and erred exceedingly." IMMORTAl MENTOR. 183 Though gratitude is not so common a virtue as it ought to be, yet the remembrance of his former kindnesses often surrounds a good man in distress, with many warm friends and generous comforters. Is he in danger, who will not defend him ? I^he falling, who will not uphold him ! Is he slandered, who will not vindicate him ? Love disposes us to put to their proper uses every blessing that may fall to our lot; while, without it, the most splendid advantages that we could desire, the largest fortunes and brightest parts, will become vain and fruitless, if not pernicious and destructive to us. For, what is our reason worth if it serve only to contrive little sorry designs for ourselves ? What is wit good for, if it be spent only in making sport, or creating mischief? What signifies wealth, if it be uselessly hoarded up, or vainly thrown away on the lusts of one poor worm ? What is our credit but a mere puff of air, if we do not give it substance by making it an engine of doing good J What is our virtue itself, if buried in obscurity it yield no be- nefit to others by the lustre of its example, or by its real influence ? If these advantages minister, only to our own particular pleasure or profit, how mean and inconsiderable they appear ! But under the management of love, sec what 184 IMMORTAL MENTOR. worth and importance they assume. Our wealth becomes the bank from which the weeping widow, the indigent young tradesman, and the helpless or- phan, draw the supply of their wants. Our wit is employed to expose the defi rmities of vice, and to paint virtue in her loveliest colours. Our knowledge is applied to instruct the ignorant, to admonish the guilty, and to comfort the wretched. Thus love enables us to lay out our talents in so excellent a manner as to secure those inestimable blessings— the love of God, the friendship of mankind, and the exquisite pleasures of doing good. How great then is the worth of love, since without it the goods even of the wealthiest are but temporal and transient, such as too often prove dangerous snares and baneful poi- sons; and are at best but impertinent baubles. Love gives worth to all our apparent virtues, in- somuch, that without it no quality of the heart, no action of life is valuable in itself or pleasing to God. Without love, what is courage, but the boldness of a lion or the fierceness of a tyger ? What is meek- ness but the softness of a woman, or the weak- ness of a chile? ? What is politeness, but the gri- mace of a monkey, or the fooleries of a fop ? What is justice, but passion or policy ? What is wisdom but craft and subtilitv ? Without love, and what is faith but dry opinion ? What is hope but blind pre- IMMORTAL MENTOR. vk sumption ? What is almsgiving but ostentation 1 Wnat is martyrdom but stubborness ? What is de- votion but a mockery of God ? What is any prac- tice, how specious soever in itself, or beneficial to others, but the effect of selfishness and pride ? " Though I have faith so that I could remove moun- tains, and have not love, I am nothing. Though I give all my goods to feed the poor, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing." But love sanctifies every action, and converts all that we do into virtue. It is true bravery indeed, when a man, out of love to his neighbour, and a hearty desire to promote his good, encounters dan- gers and difficulties. It is genuine meekness, when a man out of love, and unwillingness to hurt his neighbour, patiently puts up with injuries. It is politeness indeed, when cordial affection expresses its It in civil language, respectful manners, and obliging actions. It is excellent justice, when a man regarding his neighbour's case as his own, does to him as he wou'd have it done to himself. It is admirable wisdom, which studies to promote our neighbour's welfare. It is a noble faith, which, working by love, produces the rich fruits of obedi- ence. It is a solid hope, which is grounded on that everlasting basis of love which never fails. It is a sincere alms, which not only the hand but the heart 17 186 IMMORTAL Mi-.NTOR. reaches out. It is an acceptable sacrifice, which is kindled by the holy fire of love. It is an hallowed devotion which is offered up from a heart pure und benevolent like the Being whom it adores. Love is a grand instrument of our happiness, be- cause it alone renders sweet and pleasant all the du- ties which we owe to our neighbour. All agree, that the second great business of men in this life is to learn to love one another. And since the con- stant performance of kind and generous services to each other, tends most effectually to fan the flame of love, our Heavenly Father is perpetually calling on us to perform those good offices to our brethren. He commands " the stiong to bear the burdens of the weak, the rich to abound in good works to the poor, the poor to be cheerfully obliging to the rich," and all of us to exercise meekness, gentleness, hospitali- ty, justice, honour, truth, Sec. Such sentiments and works of beneficence and love, make a considerable part of our duties, duties that occur eveiy day and hour of our lives. To perform these with alacrity and pleasure must add greatly to our happiness, be- cause, since they occur so frequentb , if we have but the art to turn them into pleasures, our whole life must be one continued round of pleasure. Whereas, on the contrary, if we take no delight in them, we {stand a fair chance to lead very uneasy lives ; as we IMMORTAL MENTOR. 18/ shall be continually called on by duties which we cannot perform without reluctance, nor yet neglect without much vexation and regret. Would we luve this, our field of trial, to become a garden of pleasantness ? Let us love. Love is the great wondet-worker. It converts duties into delights, and penances into pleasures. Are you wealthy ? In making you so, heaven kindly intend- ed for you the joy ol acting as the friend and bene- factor of the poor. That you may be sensible how essential love is to the cheerful discharge of the du- ties of beneficence, turn your eyes towards Dives : In him you behold one of tiie wealthiest of the sons Qf fortune. His cellars, his bams, his coffers, are all bursting out with abundance ; but his heart' has not one spark of love. Alas ! the sad consequences of his backing this one thing needful. Hence, tioi gh possessed of wealth sufficient to enable him. like the good angel of his neighborhood, to scatter bless- ings around him on at least fifty needy families ; he loses the joy, and they the benefit of such noble charities. Destitute of love, Dives takes no delight, even in feeding the hungry, in cioathing the naked, or in soothing the sorrows of sickness and poverty. Unhappy Dives ! Works of love which blessed an- gels prefer to their nectar and ambrosia, are set be- fore thee, but tnou hast no relish for them, Dives 188 IMMORTAL MENTOR keeps a splendid table, has vast apartments, rich fur- niture, costly jewels, a large number of seivants, and sumptuous equipages ; and that is enough for him; his poor childish fancy has no idea of any thing superior. But see the noble and excellent Demophilus. Demophilus possesses an estate not inferior to that of Dives ; but his estate, though ample, is not half so ample as his heart. Demophilus denies himself all the pomps and superfluities of life, in order that he may swell the tide of his liberality to the poor. It were an endless, though pleasing task, to relate how many friendless little children he has educated, how many poor young tradesmen he has set up in good business; and how many helpless old persons, pro- vided for by his bounty, are now spending the even- ing of their days in peace and comfort. Every day is to Demophilus a day of happiness, because it h spent in offices of kindness to those whom love has taught him to view in the endearing light of rela- tions; and, in serving whom, he acts with all the alacrity of a brother. Thus love employs him in such good works as yield the purest pleasures v. hile he is engaged in them, and the remembrance of which will be a well of sweetest waters springing up in jus bosom to eternal life. IMMORTAL MENTOR. 189 Are you a poor man ? You will find love to b« equally essential to your happiness. Love will not only preserve you from all the pangs of envy and discontent; those infernal vipers which prey on the vital* of too many of our poor brethren ! But it will enable you to look with the joy of a brother on the superior prosperity of your neighbour. It will in- spire you with that sublimest devotion, prayers for your wealthy nsighbour, that he may be sensible of the blessings he possesses in possessing wealth and p>wer, that he may be thankful for them, and put them to such good use as at once to please the su- preme giver, to win the gratitude of the poor, and to fill his own heart with joy. Are you in debt to your neighbour'. Then it near* ly concerns you to love him. I will not indeed say, that if you do not love, you will never pay your debts, for a sense of honor may incline you, as it does many who are destitute of love, to be honest; but this I will say, that if you love your neighbour, you will pay him with much more certainty and satisfaction than you otherwise could. If you love your neigh- bour, you will not be able to run in debt to him, when you foresee that you can never pay him. A certain lawyer—a case in point—made appli- cation to a certain hairdresser, for a wig. The ge- nerous tradesman, who was just about to sit down to dinner, invited his customer to take pot-luck with ir* 199 IMMORTAL MENTOR. him. After having made a plentiful repast- and emp- tied the second bowl, " Now Sir," said the benevo- lentshaver, addressing his guest, " I'll make you as handsome a wig as ever graced the head of a coun- sellor."—" No, that you shall not."—" Hie ! what's the matter ? " Did you not come to bespeak a wig ?" —« True, 1 did, but I have altered my mind. You are so clever a fellow that I have a great liking for you, and this makes me scorn to take an advantage of you: For were you to make me a wig, I do not know that I should ever be able to pay you for it ?* —What a generous thing must love be, since a few feathers of it only could thus bear a man up above a dishonest action ! Would to God, that not only law- yers, but that all men also had more of it! To the man whn loves not, the payment of his debts is often a great penance. Avaro owes 500 guineas—500 guineas! Avaro had as lieve it were 500 drops of his heart's blood. To-morrow is the day of payment; a sad day to Avaro! Avaro goes with a heavy heart to his strong box to take one or more view of his dear good guineas. He takes them up in his hands; he hugs them to his breast:— " Sweet precious gold, and must I part with you ! Dear delight of my eyes and joy of my heart, must I to-morrow resign you for ever •" Avaro sighs piteously, and locking them op again in his box. IMMORTAL MENTOR. 191 joes out groaning like one who follows his first born to the grave. Now turn your eyes to a very different character; I mean Benevolus. It is love only that makes the difference. Benevolus owes a sum of money to his neighbour Agathos. Benevolus possesses not only that delicate sense of honc;ur, and that nice regard to reputation, those laudable motives to duty which animate all men of honour; but he feels some of a sweeter and still stronger nature. Benevolus loves his neighbour Agathos ; hence he takes an interest in his welfare. Agathos, in lending this money, ' shewed a confidence in Benevolus. Benevolus is eager to evince that it is well founded. Agathos by this time may be wanting his money—Benevolns feels an anxiety to replace it. Benevolus has reason to believe that it would be a pleasure to Agathos to receive it—he accordingly hastens to give him that pleasure. " I once, said the charmmg Pulcheria, owed a neighbouring woman a sum: On going to her house to pay it, I met one of her daughters, whose dress showed a tattered wardrobe—my heart rejoiced that the supply of her wants was at hand ; and had I, con- tinued the lovely girl, been in sufficient circumstan- ces, nothing would have m*de me happier thtui te 192 IMMORTAL MENTOR. have owed ten times as much."—O for more 1< vr ! more love \ Without this, there cr.:; I* n- t only no pleasure, but indeed, no steadiness in the payment of.debts. Great stress, I know, has been kid on what is called a sense of honour ; but a man of mere honour is an unsafe debtor. In those corrupted e oun- tries where the laws nwdjaxhions are not very deci- dedly in favour of justice, men of honour have been found to sit perfectly easy under the weight of their debts. Misochristis is a man of honor; but he lives in a country where it happens not to be the fashion for raen of honour to pay their debts under three or four years. Misochristis, you see, is surrounded by a crowd of creditors, who are importunate with him for their money. He had often avoided them before, by making his servants deny him; but unfortunately that stratagem would not answer to day, for they popped in upon him before his usual hour of rising. He at first determined not to stir out of his chamber; but they as obstinately resolved not to stir until he made his appearance. He then ordered his servant to tell them he was indisposed and could speak to nobody ; but the news of his indisposition did not in the least soften them—see him they would Where- on he sent word that he would surrender, and imme- diately comes to a parley. IMMORTAL MENTOR. 193 " How now, gentlemen," says he, « can't a person be sick in his own house ? Give me leave to tell you, you don't behave handsomely." " What have you to say, Mr. Rhedon ? You made me a coach, I fancy, about three years ago—and have I not paid you twenty pistoles on account ? You are indeed, vastly to be pitied! Go, go—don't be the least afraid of your money—nobody loses any thing by me. See there is an honest man who has been my baker for six years; he knows how to behave him- self to a person of my distinction—he has had gieat patience, and he shall not be a sufferer by it. Mr. Rhedon, your servant-—I have something to say to these gentlemen—you can call again.'' « My good friend, Artopolus, I have really a re- regard for you ; You serve me extremely well. How do you manage to make such good bread as you send me ? 'Tis excellent; there can be no fault found with such bread. Let me see what it is I owe you ? Two thousand three hundred and forty-six iivres—That's just what I owe you.—Well, I shall not examine your account ; I don't question but it is right. Two thousand three hundred and odd Iivres. \ shall be able to pay you—Well, MrT Artopolus, the first money I receive siiall be yuurs. You shall not be at the trouble of coming fur it; 'tis nut tea- 194 IMMORTAL MENTOR. sonable you should;—why man'tis you who keep int alive. " So, here is my wine merchant ■•—I have longed for an opportunity, ray friend, to take you to tc^k. You know full well, Mr. Vinter, that you have a plea- sure in poisoning me With your wine. What the devil is it you put into it ? 1 cannot drink three bottles but it deprives me of my understanding ; and .yet money you want—Go about your business —go ; people who expect to be paid never serve their customers in that manner. You shall have no money till every body else is paid, if it were only to teach you to sell good wine. "As for you, Monsieur Guillaumet, I am quite ashamed to have been so long without paying you. I am sensible of a 1 the complaints you have against me. You have cloathed me and my whole family these five years, and I have not as yet paid you a sous. I promised to pay you towards the end of the last year, but I disappointed you.—Is not that all you have to say to mc ? You know me very well, Monsieur Guillaumet; do you imagine I could be so cruel as to let you be all this time out of your mo- ney, alter you had disbursed such considerable sums for my use, if my tenants did but pay me ? I must -be a great villain if I could behave al.er that man IMMORTAL MENTOR. 195 r.er : But they will pay me by and by, and then you sha'.i h.tve your money.—Your servant,—Give me leave to speak to that gentlewoman. * » Good morrow, Mrs. Pernelle, I suppose you are come to demand your money for the thiiiy pieces of linen which I had of you two years ago ? Well, I cannot pay you very soon. You see what a number of people I have promised already. But you can afford to wait a little. You are well to pass!"— " No, sir, you arc mistaken, my circumstai c?s are very indifferent."—" O.:, so mu'-.h the worse, my good mistress : when people cannot afford to givC credit, they should never pretend to sell. " As to the rest of you, my good friends," says Misochristis, addressing himself to those creditors who had not as yet received audience : " I fancy I don't owe you any great matters. You see I am en- deavouring to regu .it( my affairs. Give me a little more time ; and if 1 can do no better at present, I " will at least look over and settle your accounts."' As soon as Misochristis had finished these words, he flew from them like lightning, leaving his credit- ors so astonished at his impudence, that he was quite out of their hearing before they had recollected themselves sufficiently to make him a reply. tff5 IMMORTVL MF.NTOR. B^i* if men of honour have been bad paymasters, be iuse punc uality was unfashionable, they have btvn found equally so in tho*e happy play times, when their good old master, the law, fell drowsy,, and took no notice oi his pupils' actions. Young Adrastus, hard run for money, determines lo try his friends. He goes to Agathocles, and in the bated breaih and whispering humbleness of a borrower, begs the loan of a thousand guineas.—A good round sum ! But the benevolent Agathocles, a stranger to suspicion, grants the loan. Adrastus pockets the money and rides off, the happiest man in the world. For three years the good Agathocles got nothing from Adrastus but empty promises and sorrowful details of disappointments and losses. At "* length a war breaks out, and the country wanting money, the press is converted into a mint, and paper dollars are struck off by the ream. These the le- gislator pronounces to be of equal value with gold and silver, and threatens trouble to the tory that shall r< fuse them as such. " Hurra lor us debtors,'' is now the cry. Blessed times • Whole caravans of honest m« n are now in motion to pay their debts. Adrastus joins the happy throng; and taking a wit- ness will him, waits on the good old Agathocles, wnose generous loan of a thousand guineas, he pays IMMORTAL MENTOR. 197 off with half a quire of paper currency—woith abov.i forty pounds. Alas ! poor honour ! when severed from the love of God, and of man, what art thou but an empty name ! Had Adrastus loved his God, could he thus have despised that golden precept which enjoins him to do unto others as he would that others should do unto him ?—Had Adrastus loved the generous Aga- thocles, could he have thus requited him evil for good—could he have thus repayed the noblest friendship with the basest ingratitude ?—Let the following true story reply. A young gentleman,"whom we shall call Leander, had the good fortune to be born of parents, who well knew that happiness consists rather in the good qualities of the heart, than in the rich contents of the strong box. He was therefore early taught to look on the love of God and of his neighbour, as the best wealth that man or angel can possess. His progress in virtue was equal to the fondest expecta- tions of his parents. Truth, honour and goodness, shone so conspicuously in all his conduct, that to love him, one needed but to know him. At the age of three and twenty he lost his father; and possessing but a very small fortune,he resolved to go into trade. Leander had five or six mercantile friends, each of 18 198 IMMORTAL MENTOR. whom throwing in a couple of hundred pounds worth ot goods, made him up a pretty assortment. With great alacrity he entered upon his new employment; but, as it would seem, merely to evince the error of those, parents, who think that religion alone is suf- ficient to make their children happy. His father had taken great pains to fit him for heaven ; but had not sufficiently instructed him to make his way good here on earth. He had scarcely ever told Leander, that though it be happiness to love, it is still virtue to be prudent; and, that to mingle the harmlessness of the dove with the wisdom of the serpent, and to take heed J of men, even while he loves them, are command- ments of the Great Teacher himself. He had hard- ly ever mentioned to Leander, the importance of re- ceipts, vouchers, and written contracts ; nor related to him the many sad instances of unsuspecting good- ness snared and ruined by insidious villainy ; and how often, for want of receipts, the best men have been compelled to a second payment of debts that have kept their noses to the grindstone half thek lives after. No; but to consider all men as the chil- dren of God, and co-heirs of glory; to love them as himself, and to think evil of no man—these wert the only sentiments which Leander was taught: These he carried with him behind the counter. Leander was soon found out to be a fine young man 1 every body admired his goods, and wished to buy if they IMMORTAL MENTOR. 199 could but have a little credit. Leander anticipated every wish, and credited every body. In a very short time, out of a thousand pounds worth of goods, he had not a remnant left. His rivals were fit to burst with spleen and envy at such prodigious sales; while his friends ascribed such singular success to divine interposition. At the ap- pointed time his creditors demanded their money. The too credulous Leander was not prepared to pay. Unable to wait longer, they seized on his little patri- mony, and threw him into prison. Cruel parents, w.io thus expose your children uncovered by the shield of prudence, to the fiery darts of fraud and villany ! O remember, that the want of prudence is too often, even in the best men, succeeded by the want of virtue ; and that in many instances, the devil himself asks not an abler advocate for vice than pov- erty. Happily for Leander, his virtue was of full growth, and of a good constitution. He did not, as thousands have done, curse that easiness of nature, that benevolence of sentiment, which had duped and betrayed him; he did not vow eternal war against his species, and resolve to practise in future the same arts which had wrought his ruin. No ' fraud and injustice now appeared to him hateful as the hags of hell. While, by contrast, his love of virtue was exalte.I to adoration. To have deceived, though 200 IMMORTAL MENTOR. unintentionally, and thence to have injured his pat- trons, caused Leander much grief; but it was grief unembittered by the gall of guilt. To have discov- ered such a want of virtue and humanity among men excited emotions, but they were those of compas- sion, not of resentment. Still his prayers and beno- valence went up before God. After fifty days confine- ment, the still virtuous Leander was discharged f.om prison, and from all legal obligation to pay his former debts. He then went round again among his debtors, many of whom, affected by his pathetic re- monstiances, discharged their accounts. With this money, purchasing a small assortment of goods, l.e entered a second time into trade, and with becoming caution. At the expiration of five years, having sa- ved enough for that purpose, he hastened up to the ic ,v:i lo pay off his former debts, and'to evince the divinity of that love, which cannot be happy while it owes any man any thing. He called together his former creditors to a tavern, where, by his orders, a handsome dinner was prepared for them. With the utmost cordiality he received them, and w ithout hav- ing as yet gratified their curiosity as to the occasion ol the meeting, he politely pressed them to sit down to dine. Every man in turning up his plate, beheld in a heap of shining gold, the full amount, principal and interest, of his former claim against Leander. IMMORTAL MENTOR. 201 " Lord \ who's the happy man that may To thy blest courts repair J Not stranger-like to visit them, Rut to inhabit there. Tis lie who to his vows and trust, Has ever firmly stood ; And tho' he promise to his loss, He makes his promise good." We have been copious on this part of our subject, for a very plain reason :—-The payment of our debts is a duty which occurs so frequently, that whatever tends to make it a pleasure, must consequently add greatly to our happiness—and we have abundantly shewn it is love, and love alone, that can make hon- esty at all times a pleasure. But there are many other duties of equal import- ance to our own, and to the happiness of society ; to the cheerful performance of which, love is as indis- pensably necessary. This man's avarice may claim a part of our estate ; or that man's unprovoked rage may insult our person, or slander our name; now to bear all this with temper, and to negociate so dis- creetly with these our ungenerous neigbours, as to disarm their passions, and to make an honourable and lasting peace, is certainly a most desirable event; but it is an event whi .h nothing but almigh- ty love can accomplish. And through defect of this 202 IMMORTAL MENTOR. love, how frequently have we seen the Slightest encroachments, or provocations to stir up such hor- rid passions in the bosoms of neighbours, and hurry them into such khameful excesses of injury and re- venge, as have ended in the destruction of each oth- er's souls, bodies, and estates ! Let the real history of goodman Gruff and his neighbour Grub, elucidate this melancholy truth. These tW men, whose fortunes were ample, lived near neighbours to each other—so near, that their lands, unmoved by the passion of their owners, lay and slept together in the most friendly embraces. That good being who had thus appointed their lots together in the same pleasant places, had unques- tionably intended, that they should learn from their own experience, how happy a thing it is for breth- ren to dwell together in unity. But alas ] the hap- py ways of peace they knew not; for they were both s rangers to love: and by natural consequence, both prcud, selfish, irascible and vindictive. On a resurvey of his plantation, goodman Gruff found that his neighbour Grub had about two acres and a quar- ter of his ground in possession. No sooner than he made this important discovery, than he sent orders to Mr. Grub, and not in the most IMMORTAL MENTOR. 203 gentle terms, instantly to remove his fences from that spot of ground, or he should adopt measures to compel him From no friend on earth, would Mr. Grub have brooked such a message ; but from Gruff it was altogether insupportable. A reply, such as pride and hatred could dictate, was immediately made. A lawsuit of course, commenced. This produced the effect that usually attends law- suits,—" a death unto friendship, and a new birth unto hatred." Every expence incurred in the course of the suit inflamed their mutual hatred ; for they never failed to set down these expences to the ac- count of each other's roguery : They never deigned to salute, or to exchange a word; and, if accident at any time threw them into the same company, they cast such eyes of death on one another, and were so pointedly brutal in their manners, as to shock all who were not lost to humanity. To be threatened with the loss of two acres of land, or to have that much withheld, though each possessed many more than they could cultivate, was enough in such sor- did souls, to awaken the most deadly passions. These were soon communicated to the rest of their families. The wives and daughters, could not, even at church, treat each other with common civ'Uty; and the sons often disgraced themselves in bloody battles. Nor was this all, for their poor unoffending 30-1 IMMORTAL MENTOR. cattle, their hogs and horses, who, poor t/.irgs .' knew not the right leg from the left, were made to feel the sad effects of this unnatural strife : For, if carelessly waneiering in quest of grass or roots, their homely fare, they happened in luckless hour, to stray within the hostile lines, straight a troop of angry slaves, with worrying clogs and furious stones at- tacked them : or slily taking and loading them wi'h yokes, doomed them to waste full many a day in woe and pain. " Cursed be their anger, for it was fierce, and their wrath, for it was cruel. O my soul.' come not thou into their secret, unto their assembly; mine honor, be not thou united !"—.Jacob. "l Thus we see men, though born to walk with an- gels high in salvation, and the climes of bliss, act- ing, because destitute of love, just as if they were candidates for the society of infernal spiiits! A stranger to the origin of this shameful con- test, would reasonably have supposed, from the fury with which it was conducted, that the actors in it, expected some signal advantages from it. " Sure- ly," would he have said, " vast fields of fertile earth with mighty forests, and flocks and herds, with heaps of golden treasure, must depend on this im- IMMORTAL MENTOK. 2&J portant suit." But what would have been his as- tonishment, on finding, that the dear bought pur- chase of two acres of poor land, was the whole ex- tent of their hopes ! " Verily, man without love is as the wild ass's colt, and stupid as the beast that perisheth." But to return to our litigious farmers, whom we left just engaged in a s it, Gruff aganst Grub, for two acres and a quarter of land, held and cultivated by the latter, but found by a re-survey to belong to the former. The case seemed sufficiently simple, and, as was generally thought, would soon be knock- ed off the doquet, and with but small damages. But being found, as generally happens, much more com- plicated than it had at first appeared ; it was kept so Jong in the different courts in which it had the for- tune to be tried, that goodman Gruff was often heard to say, that •' though he had gained his suit, yet, through loss of time, neglect of business, tavern charges, and extra fees to lawyers, he had expend- ed at least one hundred lialf-joes." While poor Grub, obliged to carry on so long a suit with mo- ives borrowed on an exorbitant premium, incurred a debt which cost him the whole tract, together with ihe two acres and a quarter which he had so obsti- nately defended. ,»J6 IMMORTAL MEM OR. " Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." Had these unfortunate men but loved, they might have lived happy. Like good Job's children, " they would have gone and feasted in their houses each man his day, and sent and called for his neighbour to eat and drink with him " And then having his heart warmed and expanded with generous love, had good- man Gruff discovered that his neighbour held un- knowingly an acre or tvro of his land, he would have scorned to notice it. Ask the benevolent old Ralph, whether he would thus have threatened and persecuted his neighbour Paul for a couple of acres ? Observe how he shakes his venerable locks, and, with a countenance strong- ly marking his abhorrence of such a thought, thus replies:— " No, my friend, two acres of land should never have set me and my neighbour Paul at variance. Forty years have we lived near each other, and, thank God, it has been forty years of peace and friendship. Paul appears to me now like a brother; and the affection that I have for him, gives me a double enjoyment of what I have, because of the pleasure I find in, communicating of it to him. If I IMMORTALMENTOR. 207 take a hive, he is sure to receive a plate of the choicest comb. If I kill a fat mutton, the best quar- ter is sent to him. His company heightens my joys, his counsel and assistance lessen the weight of my sorrows. Together we enjoy the good things of this life, and together we often converse about the happiness of that better life to come. Now, shall I mar all this sweet heavenly peace, and plunge my- self into hellish hatred and strife, by quarrelling with my good friend Paul on account of two acres of ground ? No, no, no; sooner than see that hated day, let these eyes be closed for ever; and let my grey hairs go down with joy to the grave ? Take two acres of land from Paul ? O how gladly would I give him a thousand !" But supposing, Father Ralph, that instead of the gentle Paul, it had been your destiny to dwell in the neighborhood of the churlish Mr. Gruff, how would you have relished his orders to relinquish two acres of your land ? -* Why, I would nave endeavoured an accommo- dation, by proposing a reference of our matter to some of our well informed and impartial neighbors " But, what if he had replied, that since by the late variation of the compass, the limits of the tract were 2C8 IMMORTAL MENTOR. so enlarged as to take in those two acres of yours, he claimed thtm by virtue of the law, and would have nothing to do with arbitrators ? " What would I have done ? Why, I would have pitied him— from the bottom of my heart would I h; ve pitied him for such a sentiment. »And on taking my leave, would fn.ve addressed him such words as t lese :—Neighbour Gruff, the good for whieh you seem so ready to contend, deserves not to be put i» the scale against the numerous evils of a law-suit. Let famished seamen quarrel and fight for morsel of bread, or draw lots for each others lives, but for us who live in a land so thickly strewed with the bless- ings of heaven, that we need but stretch forth the hand of industry and we shall gather abundance — for us to go to law for a slip of ground, were a re- reproach to us, both as men and as Christians. I feel, neighbour Gruff, that Jove and peace are the great- est blessings of life, and well knowing that law-suits are no friend to those, but, on the conrar.y, their most mortal enemies, I wish never to have any thing to do with law-suits—I mean on such trifling occa- sions. " Therefore, for the sake of God, the lover of peace, and for our mutual good, I cheerfully compli- ment you with these two acres for whirh you are so ready to go to law with me. And I think my heart IMMORTAL MENTOR. £09 gives me comfortable assurance that I shall never want them.'' " Blessed are the peace makers, for they shall be called the children of God." " Love adds greatly to the happiness of man, be- cause it puts us in possession and gives us the en- joyment of every thing that is good and desirable in this life. By it, we may without greedy avarice, or its cares or drudgeries, swim in tides of wealth. Without proud ambition or any of its difficulties and dangers, we may ascend to the highest seat of ho- nors : without sordid voluptuousness, or its diseases and disgust, we may bask in the lap of true plea- sures ; without its pride, luxury or sloth, or any of its snares and temptations, we may feast at the table of prosperity. We may pluck the richest fruits of science and learning, without the pain of laborious study : and we may taste the sweets of virtue and goodness without their toils. For, are not all these things ours, if we make them so, by finding much delight and satisfaction in them ? Does not our neighbour's wealth enrich us, if we are happy in his possessing and using it ? Does not his preferment advance us, if our spirit rises with it into a cordial complacency ? Does not his pleasure delight us, if 19 210 IMMORTAL MENTOR. we are pleased with his enjoyment of it ? Does not his prosperity bless us, il our hearts exult and tri- umph in it? This is the true philosopher's stone, the divine magic of love which conveys all things into our hands, giving us a possession and use in them of which nothing can deprive us. By virtue of this, fas Paul justly observes) " Be- ing sorrowful, yet we always rejoice ; huving nothing we yet possess all things." Neither is this property in our neighbour's goods merely imaginary, but real and substantial; indeed, far more real to the true lover of men, than it is generally to the real owners of them. For how is property in things otherwise to be considered than by the satisfaction which they yield to the presumed owner ? And if the benevo- lent man find this satisfaction in them, and in a high degree, why are they not truly his ? May not the tree, with some degree of propriety, be called yours if you can pluck and enjoy its f« uits at pleasure ? Nay, does not the property more truly belong to you if you equally enjoy the benefit, without partaking *he trouble and expense which fall on the legal own- ei ? A loving >: an can therefore never be poor or miserable, except all the world should come to dis- tress or want, for while his neighlx w has anything he will enjey it—" ri jotting ybith those who rejoice? Immortal men"tor. 211 But love not only advances us to the highest pitch of happiness attainable in this life, but like a true friend, it will accompany us into heaven, and there complete our felicity, by exalting us to the society of" angels and spirits of just men made perfect.'' Among all the nations of the earth, the pleasing persuasion has prevailed, that the souls of good men shall pass away after death into brighter climes than these, where, assembled in the sweetest society, they shall enjoy pleasures which were never permit- ted them lo taste in this vale of tears. The strongest and dearest sentiment of nature, is confirmed by revelation, which assures us, that hea- ven, the city of the eternal King, is inhabited by a great multitude, which no man can number, compo- sed of all the wise and good that ever existed in the universe of God; and who, now separated from eve- ry infirmity, dwell together in the dearest amiiy and peace. Desirable indeed, must an access to such a society appear to us, who dwell in those abodes ol hail hu- manity, whose passions are so much at variance with our repose ! This man wounds us by a mortify- ing neglect, that insults us with scorn and contempt, A thir J envies our felicity—a fourth inhumanly tre- 212 IMMORTAL MENTOR. duces our good name ; and a fifth goes to law with us for our estate. While those few who love us, of- ten add to our uneasiness by their follies or vices. Who would not abandon such a wretched society as this, and gladly go to mingle with those blessed and happy friends who can no more be miserable them- selves, nor render us so ? Where every countenance will shine upon us with smiles of undissembled af- fection; and every eye beam unutterable love?— where mighty angels will be as endearingly attentive to us, as fondest brethren : while heavenly sages do pour forth the treasures of their wisdom to entertain us, though the feeblest of saints? But, alas ! is it for us whose hearts are defiled, and who drink in iniquity like water, to be numbered with these children of God, and to have our lot among such saints ? Yes it is. For though the precious gold of Ophir could not purchase such precious ho- nours for us ; and though rocks of pre>ffered dia- monds would not be received iB exchange; yet there is a power, a secret charm, that can open for us the everlasting doors, and admit us into those courts of glory. That charm is Love, which, by exercising every odious passion, and adorning us with its own celestial graces, will secure our welcome, and ren- der us dear to every saint in paradise. And were it not for love, which thus refines our nature, and trans- IMMORTAL MENTOR. €f3 forms us into angels of light, never could we mingle in the society of those heavenly lovers. " Birds of a feather flock together."—As gentle doves, who delight in mutual caresses, fly on wings of terror, from those birds whose fiery eyes threaten hateful strife ; so angels of love must retire with as natural an abhorrence, from the so< iety of dark and malignant spirits. Between no two things in nature, does there exist so irreconcileable an opposition, as between love and hatred. Water and oil—fire and snow, may, by the powerful arts of chemistry, be taught to forget their native antipathies, and to rush together into friendly embraces : But by no arts can tender hearted love be brought to look with compla- cency on any appearance of hatred and misery. And the more ardent our love, the more exquisite will be our distress, at the view of such scenes. Philander, whose life is a series of beneficence that reflects honour on human nature, was, during the earlier part of his days, strangely fond of that most vulgar practice, boxing. But happening to read Dr. Blair's sermon on gentleness, he was brought to see so clearly, the beanty and blessedness of a benevo- lent spirit, that he has ever since cultivated it as the brightest o-nament, and highest happiness of his life. Philander often now observes to his friends, that 214 IMMORTAL MENTOR. nothing surprises him more than the difference which he finds between the feelings, of the present and past periods of his life. That formerly, when a stranger to love, the sight of a battle was matter of fun to him ; and a broken head, or a bloody nose, a mere bagatelle, quite a trifle. But that now, were he compelled to see two men striving in battle, and with furious countenances and eyes darting hatred, inflicting furious blows on each other, he verily be- lieves it would harrow up his soul and fill him with insupportable horror. And such, I am confident, would be the feelings of every truly benevolent heart. Now, if we who were but babes in love, and whose hearts still retain much of their former hardness and insensibility, are, notwithstanding, so shocked at the sight of bad passions ; how much more would the blessed angels, those pure spirits of love, be shock- ed at the sight of such things ? Hence, it clearly ap- pears, that were God to throw open the gates of heaven, and to invite us to enter with all our pride, haughtiness, scorn, envy and hatred about us ; so far from being welcome to the angels, we should turn their heaven into hell. It wouid grieve their gener- ous bosoms, to see us so completely damned j and it would equally shock their feelings to see us so per- fectly loathsome and abominable ; and they would, no doubt, prefer their joint petitions to God, for per- mission to retire into some other part of his dorai- IMMORTAl MENTOR. 21t nions, where, far removed from such e'isquietir.g scenes, they might renew their joys in rente n plat- ing the beauty of each others virtues, and n rejoicing in the greatness of the ir nutuai biiss. V. ould we therefore gain a welcome admission into those blest abodes, where angels and the youngest sons of light, spend their blissful days in joys unknown to mortal sense—Let us Love. This is the darling attribute of God; " For God is love" And this is the grace that gives to ministering spirits all their surpassing joys and glories. Washed in this heavenly Jordan, the foulest leper becomes fresher than the new born babe. Bathed in this divine Bethesda, the blackest heart and most malevolent spirit becomes whiter than snow. Mark the glorious change. His eyes, lately glaring with infernal fires, now emit the soft- est beams of benevolence. His cheeks, once pale with envy, now bloom with the rosy red of joy. His countenance, e'er while dark with angry passions, now wear the opening radiance of friendship. His voice, lately broken discordant with rage, is now sweeter than music ; his heart, once the den of poi- sonous adders, is now the abode of gentlest affection; and he who some time ago was the terror or hatred of all who knew him, is now become the delight of each eye and joy of every heart. His admiring friends, view him with transport as a dear monument of the mighty power of love ; while holy angels 316 IMMORTAL MENTOR. welcome him with swe< test symj 1 onics, and fi'l the eternal regions wit., acclamations ol joy. »• lie I.e. Id, this our brother was lost, but is found, he was diad, but is alive." And though on our first entrance into the company of blessed angels, we cannot be half so loving and lovely as they are, yet will not this diminish their af- tion lor us ; for, clearly perceiving, that though but babes, we yet possess the fair features and precious qualities of godlike souls, they will cordially love and tenderly embrace us, as their younger brethren and as infant angels. While meeting with no cruel obstructions to our love, as in this world, but on the contrary, finding ourselves beloved and caressed by each saint and angel, we shall daily become more grateful and affectionate, and consequently more love- ly in the eyes, and more dear to the heaits, of those blessed people. And now, what words can express, what fancy can conceive the various and exquisite pleasures, that we may expect to meet with, in so wise, so alhaccomplished and endearing a society ? If the conversation of great and good natured wits, be so highly entertaining, that men of taste would give any thing to spend an evening with a party of such ; how much more desirable must it be to spend an eternity in the company of angels ? For, as in point of knowledge, wit, and eloquence, they must be IMMORTAL MENTOR- 217 far superior to the brightest geniuses of our world, and incomparably more affectionate, they cannot but make the most delightful company. From the vast stores of their wisdom and experience, they can ea- sily draw an almost infinite variety of the most en- tertaining topics, on which such good and gentle spirits, will not fail to converse in the most free and endearing manner. Then, what a heavenly conver- sation must theirs be, whose scope is the most glo- rious knowledge, and its law the most perfect friendship ? Who would not willingly leave a childish, fro- ward and ill-natured world, for the blessed society of those wise friends and perfect lovers ? And what a felicity must it be to spend an eternity, in such a noble conversation ? Where we shall hear the deep philosophy of heaven communicated with mutual freedom, in the wise and amiable discourses of an- gels, and of glorified spirits, who, without any re- serve or affectation of mystery, without passion or peevish contention for victory, do freely philoso- phize and impart the treasures of each other's know- ledge ? For since all saints there are great philoso- phers, and all philosophers perfectly saints, we may conclude, that knowledge and goodness, wisdom and love, will be most charmingly intermixed throughout all their conversation, and render it de- 218 IMMORTAL MEXTOR. lightful in the highest degree. When therefore we shall leave this vain and unsociable world, and on our landing on the shores of eternity, shall be met by all our good old friends, who are gone to heaven before us, and who now with infinite joy for our safe arrival, receive and conduct us into the splen- did society of all the good and generous souls, who ever lived in the world: when we shall be familiar friends with angels and archangels; and all the shining courtiers of heaven shall call us brethren, and welcome us into their glorious society, with all the tender endearments and caresses, of those hea- venly lovers, O how will ail these mighty honors and joys, swell our bosoms with titles of transport almost too big to bear ! But love not only renders us thus happy, by adorning us with such graces as give us a hearty welcome to the society, and joys of angels; but, O godlike power of charity ! it even enables us to make all their joys our own- It is a natural property of love, when sincere, to unite so closely the hearts of lovers, as to make their interests common, and thus to render the joys of the one, the joys of the other. Every man carries in his own bosom a pivof of this delightful truth. Do not the virtues of a dear brother, give us as ex- IMMORTAL MENTOR. 219 quisitc joy, as if we ourselves were adorned with them ? Have not the high commendations bestow- ed on a beloved sister thrilled through our hearts, in as pure streams of pleasure as if we ourselves had been the honored subject of them ? Now, if love, which is a native of heaven, produces, even in the cold soil of the human heart, such deliciaus fruits ofjty at the sight of our neighbour's happiness, how much more copious and exquisite must be its growth and flavour, when restored to heaven, it en- joys all the energies of its native soil and climate ? If therefore, while hereon earth, we make such pro- gress in brotherly love, as to uclish our neighbour's happiness as our own, " heartily rejoicing with him When he rejoices;'' we may rest assured, that on go- ing to heaven, and entering into the society of bless- ed angels, we shall find the joys of congratulating love, far superior to what we ever experienced in this world. With what sacred delight shall our hearts overflow, when, on opening our eyes in those blissful mansions, we behold around us, such bright bands of glorious beings ? The sight of these love- ly and happy people, will open new springs of joy -n ou • bosoms. With what wonder, love, and praise, shall we contemplate that hand which drew such magnificent scenes: these streets paved with gold, these gorgeous palaces hewn from di.mond quar- ries, these walls flaming with the stones of heaven. 220 IMMORTAL MENTOR. these rivers flowing with liquid silver, these fields decked with immortal flowers, these sacred shades formed by the trees of God; and which, after having clothed these regions in such godlike splendors, raised up so many myriads of glorious beings to in- habit them forever ? There, among those favoured spirits, we shall meet with none of those melancholy scenes which here so often embitter our lives. Here, the strong pains and cries of those whom we love, often wring our hearts and call tears of bitter- est sorrow from our eyes; but there, God shall wipe all team from our eyes ; and pain and sickness are unknown. Here, the pale cheek, the hollow eye, and trembling voice of languishing friends, often sic- ken our hearts, and press our spirits to the earth ; but there, health blooms with freshest roses on each immortal cheek, and imparts a vigor that shall nev- er know decay. Here, we often behold our dear- est relatives struggling in the agonies of death, and hear, with stupifying grief, their last expiring groans ; but there, among those holy angels, death never shewed his ghastly countenance, and their glorified bodies are deathless as the eternal Jeho- vah." Now what 'words can express the joys of those blessed people, who love each other with a tenderness unknown to mortal hosoms, and whose love is continually feasted with the view of each other's happiness, a happiness which no time can IMMORTAL MENTOR. 381 terminate, and which neither man nor devil can im- pair 1 For perfect lovers have all their joys and gricfi* in common between them; but the heavenly lovers having no griefs among them, do only com- municate their joys to one another. And where they love so perfectly as they do in heaven, there can be no such thing as a private or particular hap- piness, but every one must have a share in that of every one, and consequently in this, their mutual communication of joys, every one's happiness, will by his friendship to every one, be multiplied into as many happinesses as there are saints and angels in heaven ; and thus, every joy, of every member of the church triumphant, runs round the whole body, in an eternal circulation. For that blessed body be- ing all composed of consenting hearts, that, like per- fect unisons, are tuned up to the same key, when any one is touched, every one echoes, and resounds the same note : and while they thus mutually strike upon each other, and all are affected with every one's joys, it is impossible, but, that in a state where there is nothing but joy, there should be a continual concert of ravishing harmony among them. For such is their dear concern for one another, that eve- ry one's joy not only pays to, but receives tribute from every one : so that when any one blessed spi- rit rejoices, his joy goes roun I the whole society, and then a 1 their rejoicings in his joy, re flow upon, 20 382 IMMORTAL MENTOR. and swell and multiply it; and so as they thus cor- dially borrow each other's joys, they always pay them back with interest, and by thus reciprocating, do everlastingly increase them. And now, what un- speakable rejoicing and congratulations will there be among us, when we shall pass all heaven over, through ten thousand millions of blessed beings, and meet none but such as we most dearly love, and are as dearly beloved by ? especially when we shaH find no defect either of goodness, or happiness in them, nor they in us, to damp our mutual joy and delight, but every one shall be what every one wish- es him—a perfect and blessed friend. What eternal thanks do we not owe to the author of all good, for giving us souls that are capable of ascending to the society of these glorious beings, and of participating forever in their exalted de- lights ? And how must it inflame our gratitude to him for appointing love to be the golden road lead- ing to those celestial regions, and for employing so many arguments, and taking, if we may thus speak, so much pains-to persuade us to walk in it ? For, take all the laws of God, whether written on hearts of flesh, or tables of stone, or on softer leaves of evangelic paper, and cast them up—What is their amount? Love.—Love is the bond of perfection. Love is the fulfilling of the law. He hath shewed LVIMORTALMENTOR. ihee, O man » what is good, and what doth the Lord' thy God require of thee but to love him, thy Parent God, with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as thy- self. And as God has thus enjoined love, so has he disposed every thing in an order the most favoura- ble to the production of it. For who is this neighbour whom we are enjoined to leve ? Is he some vile inferior creature whom it were hard, if not impossible to love ? No, he is, on the contrary, a most noble being,and descended from the greatest family in the universe. He is no less a personage, than a young prince, a son of the Great King eternal, whom he is not only allowed but even commanded to csdl his father. If some young nobleman clothed in silks and broad-cloths, scented with rich perfumes, and richly equipaged, were to call at our houses, we should instantly be impressed with sentiments of respect, and good will for him, and readily invite him to the hospitalities of our tables. But what are silver and gold ? what are siiks and broad-cloths ? Avhat are fine horses and servants ? in comparison ol that immortal soul which this neighbour possesses, and those eternal beauties of which his soul is capable ? know, that he was made but \ few degrees lower than the angels, and 24 IMMORTAL MENTOR. that God, the true judge of merit, has, on account of the rich excellencies of his nature, treated this world, with alt the goodly brightness of heaven, and all the costly furniture of earth, to serve him. " Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands ; thou hast put all things under his feet.'' He possesses a soul capable of so exceedingly great and eternal a weight of glory, that rather than he should be deprived of it forever by sin, God him- self came down on earth to expiate it, and by his own most perfect and amiable life and lessons, to allure him back to love and heaven. God has adopted him as his son, and made him a free denizen of his hca- v?nly city; and has appointed his own gloiiuiib angels to wait on him, as on the heir of salvation and candidate for eternal glory. Can we then tiiink it hard to love him whom God thus loves and thus de- lights to honour ? But if it be easy to love a person of eminent digni- ty and excellence, it becomes easier and pleasanter still to love him, if he be a near kinsman and friend.' Well, this is truly the case betwixt our neighbour and us. He is our near relation— our brother—bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh. God kindly rais- IMMORTAL MENTOR. 2*6' ed "him up to be unto us a companion and -a help- mate, to lighten our burdens, and to multiply our comforts, and, like dear children walking in love, to enjoy together the rich fruits of our mutual indus- try, rejoicing in the present bounties of our common parent, and exulting in the hopes of better yet toe come. And as if all these tender and endearing circum- stances were not sufficient, God himself has put forth his hand, and touchod our hearts with sentiments of good will towards each other. These native sentiments of love, these dear re- mains of love, these dear remains of God's own image, originally stamped on our minds, appear very visible in ail, even in those unfortunates, whose hard lot and corrupting companions have done much to stifle them. Take you poorest of men \ who gleans precarious and scanty bread, by hard and humble toil. His^ouv looks and crabbed manners give room to suppose that he is a misanthrope, an utter strangerto natural affection ; but the slightest experiment will soon discover what tender sympathies unite him to his kind. •20* Si'6 IMMORTAL MENTOR. You need not tell him of flourishing cities, with all their gay inhabitants, swallowed up by the de- vouring sword, or ruthless flames, while mourning millions loaded with chains, are driven far from their native homes to make room for new masters. No; such horrid tragedies are not necessary to touch the springs of his compassion. Let him but hear the song of Chevy Chase, or the tender ballad of the Babes in the Wood; or carry him to the theatre, and let him hear, though but in a play, in mere fiction, the story of poor Barnwell, let him behold that unfor- tunate young man, who set out in life adorned with comely virtues, and the darling of all who knew him; but soon alas { too soon arrested, by a beautious har- lot, he falls an easy prey to her wiles, is stript of all his virtues and honours, and betrayed into crimes for which he dies on the ignominious gallows.—'Tis enough, this simple tale of woe calls up all Lis feel- ings of generous distress, and bathes his cheeks in floods of sympathetic tears. Does not this our ready disposition to suffer with our suffering neighbour, and to weep with him when he weeps, plainly prove how much God has done to make it easy for us to love one another. To this he has added another charming evidence, I mean the inexpressible joy which he infuses into our hearts on doing works of love to the necessitous. IMMORTAL MENTOR. 227 « Pray sir," said a young Virginian to his friend, " on what act of your life do you reflect with the greatest complacency ?" " W hy sir," replied the other. " happening to hear that an old slave of my father's was sick, I went up to his quarter to see him. On enquiry, I found, that in consequence Of his ex- treme age, and inability to render further services in the crop, he was cruelly neglected by the overseer, and often made to suffer for a meal of victuals. Blushing to find that this was the principal cause of his present indisposition, 1 instantly returned, and taking a negro lad, carried up a Hitch of bacon, a loaf of bread, and,a peck of meal. On seeing the present which I had brought him, his half-famished nature revived, and a sudden gush of tears trickled down his cheeks. Lifting up his eyes, he gave me such a look of gratitude and love, as pierced my very soul, and kindled a pleasure, which time, instead of diminishing, does but increase !" The pleasures which we find in eating and drink- ing, we gratefully consider as given by the Creator, to attach us to those refreshments so neceesary to life. With equal wisdom and gratitude, let us re- member that the heartfelt delight which accompa- nies and succeeds our deeds of love, were meant to allure us to cherish that divine affection which is better than Ife. 8W IMMORTVL MENTOR. F'T the same benevolent purpose, the author of our beiug is pleased to exert on us the whole force of another powerful spring of action ; 1 mean interest. Our dearest interests in this world are best promot- ed, by maintaining a loving correspondence with our neighbours. So uncertain is our condition, so liable are we all to the changes and chances of this mortal life, that no man can tell how som he may owe his v^ry life an I !br;unt to the gratitude of% poor neigh- bour or slave who h.v s him. How many accounts h-»ve we heard of poor negroes, whose love for a good master has made t lien bravely to step in be- twixt him and danger ; sometimes, like faithful spa- niels, plunging in, and drawing him out of deep waters, where he was in the very act of drowning ? Sometimes, like salamanders, rushing upon and ex- tinguishing furious fires, that were destroying Ms houses, and perhaps half the labours of his Hie ? And sometimes, like Hectors, "fighting who desper- ate courage in his defence, when attacked, and in danger of being severely beaten -and killed by his enemies ? But love not only thus marshals-on army with ban. ners around us for our safety ; it also pours a sweet sunshine of peace and harmony over our days. St. Paul, who was a much safer guide in matters-of IMMORTAL MENTOR. 229 iciigiou, than Mr. Paine, advises us to " walk in love with our neighbours, if we would lead a quiet and peaceable life." For as men naturally perceive a fra- grance in the lose, and a sweetness in the honey- comb ; so naturally do.they discern a heavenly charm and beauty in love. Adorned therefore with the friendly dispositions, the lair dealings, and gentle manners of this divine passion, we shall not fail to find favour in the eyes of our neighbours, and to be beloved and caressed by them. Hence we walk among them as among brothers, in every face we see a friendly smile, at every house a heaity welcome, never devising any mischief against them, we never dream of their devising any against us. Our hearts aie now at rest, our countenances are serene, our voices melodious, our manners mild, our sleep sw eet, and our whole life quiet and peaceable : And, as a blessed consequence of all this, together with the highest enjoyment of the present life, we are in the best frame of mind to prepare ourselves for that which is to come. Happily freed from the.anxiety and vexation of all bad passions, we profitably con- template our numberless obligations to love God and one another, and thus, in the multitude of our good thoughts, daily grow in virtue and piety. But all this goodly Canaan, this land of love, flow- ing with richest milk and honey of peace, is snatch- 230 IMMORTAL MENTOR. ed from our eyes by the demon-hand of hatred, and nought appears in its place but a land of darkness and of death, whose streams are of gall, and us iron*, of bitter ashes. By over-reaching a neighbour in a bargain (which we shall be too apt to do if we love him not,) we make him our enemy. Perhaps he has the spirit to tell us of our baseness to our faces, or to talk of it be- hind our backs. This fires our bosoms with odious and painful passions. Challenges or law-suits, wiih all their ignominious vexations, hurtlul, and ohen fatal consequences ensue. Or by treating him with unreasonable severity (a thing very feasible if we love him not), we inflame his resentment to such a height, that not content with stabbing our reputation, he threatens our pro- perly and lives. Our curses now multiply thick and fast upon our heads. We can no longer sleep in qui- et, from dread of having our houses fired over our heads. We are actually afraid (the memory of those who read may help them to instances) to stir out, or, like the people in the neighbourhood of hostile In- dians, must make our visits with pistols in out pockets and carabines in our hands. Thus, through defect of love, we are often drag* IMMORTAL MENTOR. SSI ged upon the stage against our wills, and there made to act parts in tragedies, which neither become nor please us. Our thoughts taken off from delightful subjects, are turned to solicitous cares of self pre- servation and defence. Our minds are discomposed by vexatious passions. Our credit is blasted by false reports and slanderous defamations. Our hearts are kept continually boiling with choler, our faces over- clouded with discontent, our ears filled with discor- dant noises of contradiction, clamour and reproach; and our whole frame of body and soul distempered with the worst of passions. In the mean time our natural rest is disturbed, our necessary business is hindered, our hippiness in this life is wretched and lo^t, and the great concerns of heaven and eternal glory are entirely laid aside. O how much better it is to walk in the smooth and flowery paths of love, than thus to wander in the rugged ways of hatred, overgrown with briars, and beset with snares; to sail gently down the course of life on the silver cur- rent of friendship, than to be tossed on the troubled sea of contention; to behold the lovely face of hea- ven smiling with a cheerful serenity, than to see it frowning with clouds or raging with storms ! How much a peaceful state resembles heaven, into which no strife nor clamour ever enter, but where blessed souls converse together in perfect love, and perpetu- al concord! And how a condition of enmity resem- 232 IMMORTAL MENTOR. bleshcll, that black and dismal region of dark ha- tred, fiery wrath, and horrible tumult! How like a paradise the world would be flourishing in joy and rest, if men would but cheerfully conspire in love, and generously contribute to each other's good : and how like a savage wildness it now is, when as wild beasts, they vex and persecute, worry and devour each other. And to conclude, let us remember, that " Love shall never fail,'' and that, the man of love " shall be had in everlasting remembrance, and his memory shall be blessed." No spices can so embalm a mm, no monument can so preserve hii name, as works of love. The renown of power, of wit, and of learn- ing, may rest on the mind? of men with some admi- ration; but the remembrance of love reigns in their hearts with sincerest affection, there erecting tro- phies triumphant over death and oblivion. The good man's very dust is fragrant, and his grave venerable. His name is never mentioned without the tribute of a sigh, and loud acclamations of praise. And even when he is gone hence, and no more seen, he remains visible in the footsteps and fruits of his goodness.— The poor man beholds him in the comfortable sub- sistence which he yet receives from his bounty— The sick man feels him in the refreshments which IMMORTAL MENTOR. 233 he yet enjoys from his charity. He survives in the hearts of the afflicted, who still remember the ser- vices which he rendered them so cheerfully. And his weeping friends dry up their tears when they think of his virtues, the rich fruits of which they do not doubt, he is now enjoying in a better world. His memory shall likewise endure forever; in the favour of God, and in those glorious rewards which he will bestow upon him for his love to his brethren. God will not forget fiis labour of love, but raise him up after the short slumbers of the grave, to receive that unfading crown, and that precious pearl of eternal life :—." Well done, good and faithful servant—I was hungry and you gave me food—I was thirsty and you gave me drink—naked was I and you clothed me— sick and in prison and you visited me, enter now into the joy of your lord." Thus, when all the flashes of sensual pleasure are quite extinct; when all the flowers of secular glory are withered away ; when all earthly treasures are buried in darkness ; when this world with all its fa- shions are utterly vanished and gone, the good man's state will still be firm and flourishing, and his right- eousness shall endure forever. If then you would be happy indeed—happy in ev- ery condition, and in the discharge of every duty;— 21 234 IMM0RTALMENT01L happy in life and in death—happy in this world and in that which is to come: learn to love. " This having learnt, thou hast attained the sum of wisdom. Hope no higher, though all the stars thou knowest by name, and all the etherial powers; the secrets of the deep—the works of nature, or works of God, in heaven, earth, air, or sea—and all the riches of this world enjoyedst, and all that rule one empire. Only add deeds to thy knowledge an- swerable. Add faith, add virtue, patience, temper- ance.—add love, the soul of all the rest; then shalt thou not be loath to leave this world, but shalt inhe- rit a world that's happier far." MILTON. PINTS SUBSCRIBERS NAMES. CbMBERLAND COUNTY Sam. A Anderson David Armstrong Wm. Auld Samuei Adams. Anthony Black (2) \\ iiliam Brune:* Thomas Branyan. Peter Briner Henry Uriner Henry Burkholder George Black Nathan Buoy John Butler Wiliiam Boor John Boner. I3aiah Corl, esq. Stephen Cisna, sen. Hugh Clark John Coihoon Jolin Cieigh, esq. Robert Clark, esq. James Crockett Margaret Crockett John Connelley David Cockley Catharine Cope Samuel Coiwell John Cooper M. Carothers James Clark, esq. Evan Davis James Davis Robert Douds Samuel Doulin John Davidson. William Evving John Elliott Wm. Eagin Thomas Evans Ralph Ewing. Abraham Fullwiler John P. Farmer Jacob Ferree William Ferguson Joseph Galbraith John H. Goard Jas. Galbraith Joseph Grubb. John Hunter James Hunter J. Huggins David Holliday William Hays Wm. Hendrix John Harper. Stephen Johnston Jos. Jones. Bastian Kulin Matthew Kyle Daniel Kablc John King Robert Keltey. William Line, esq. Patrick Laverty. George Monroe, David Moreland Esq John Moreland Jonn Mojie, jr» Ja . Morrison A M'Callister Jane IVi'Kinstry Jane M'Ennelly William Mil'er Jjhn M'Caslin H. C. Maitheus Major Andrew Mateer Thomas Purdy James Piper.' SUBSCRIBERS NAMES. Simue." M. Ross Henry Ross ^earight Ramsay M.rgarct Rodgcrs Jonathan Ross Josiah Body George Suoop, esq. Abraham Seaver Jacob Smith Henry Still Jacob St.ugh Archibald Sidle Philip Snell. Thomas Trimble John Topley. Moses Watson,.esq. Ad.un Weibly John Wormley Thomas Wallace John Waggoner John Watsbougher Col John Weisc George Wi'son Matthew Woodburn James Wilson, esq. David Wolf CARLISLE Frederick Albright John Carnan, jr William Alexander Jimes Armstrong Jos. Anderson Edward A;mor Samuel Armor John Armstrong Matthew Armor. Charles Bell Jacob Bishop Margaret Biggs John Bell Moses Bullock, esq. John Boden, esq. Isaac Bell Andrew Boden, esq. H. H Brackenridge S. W. Brandeberry Charles Bovard, esq. A. Brackenridge Esq Claudius Berard James Boyd Matthew Brown. Mary Coffman Elizabeth Cowfer Ja,cob Crever, jr. John Carothers, jr. Francis Conner Jas. Crever, jr. Stephen Cisna, jr. Jacob Cart P. Coulson James Carmont John Carens S. Carr. Elisha Doyle Michael Dipplc James Elliott Joseph Eagin John Elliot, esq George D Foulk Thomas Fought Frederick Fogle Charles Fair Henry Funk Daniel Fisher J imes F Gallahcr Ann Grayson Wm Glenn Abraham Henwood Robert Hutchison SUBSCRIBERS NAMES. Wm Hamilton John Hanes Henry Hamilton Bernard Hendel Thomas Hagan John Hays John Hippie George Kline, Jr Jacob Keigley, Jr William Kline William Keith Jonathan Kitsmi.ler John Lemon Archibald Loudon, (24) Robert Laird David Leanigh James Lamberton, Esq George Lyon William Logan Rev James M'Cann Jane M'Cown Richard Miles William M'Ctinc Isaac MCord John M'Ginnis, jr Robert MCoy, Esq John Mu'lay Geoige Metzgar Mary M'Williams Margaret Morrison Patrick Maloney Jeremiah M Her Mary Noble Samuel Neidigh John Officer SHIPPE Mathew Adams • William Brindle Moses Briner JohnCriswell John Phillips William Price Henry W Peterson John Peters George Phillips George Pattison, Esq Philip Quigley Hugh Reed Elizabeth Reisinger Willi rr Ramsey, Esq Henry Reehm Stevrett Ramsey Hugh Reed Samuel Ramsey Samuel Reed Geoi ge D Rine Jacob Squier Parker Simmeson Daniel Sullivan Samuel Smith John Smith George Smith Simon Smith George Sponsler John Sponsler • William J Thompson James Taylor Richard Taylor William B Underwood, 2 Nicholas Ulrick Joseph Willis Henry Westfall William Woods Phillip Weaver Ann White XSBURG. John Colwell John Clark John M Connelly Samuel Carlisle SUBSCRIBERS NAMES. James Delaney Samuel Elsroth Lieut. W. Gallop Robert Hamill John Heap, j r Christian Hobble Rev. Richard Hunt Samuel Jackson George Lande Joseph Lemier John M'Clay, esq Ann MCandless Andrew Moncsmilh Jonn MCairell Thompson Piper James Piper Robert Peebles George Reyno.ds William Richard Geoige Smith Robeit Stewart Joseph Wolf NEWVILLE. Henry Cratzer George Riefsnyder Elizabeth Davidson James Elliott John Heap, Esq John Kinsiey George Leyttle Robert M-Guffia John Mathers Elizabeth Patton Abraham Riclsnyder Daniel Riefsnyder William "Kuetgers James Shannon James Woodburn Peter Wolf Thomas Wallace BIG SPRLVG Thomas Mathers Elias M Ceiland William M-Calla Capt. James Piper Joseph M. Rell James Smith Samuel Walker Jacob Atkinson William Duncan, Esq William Duffield Andrew Davidson Ezekiel Kilgore Robert MFarlane James Montgomery ERA.YKLIjY COU.YTY. Thomas Bard John Logan James Clark, jr. John Dodd John W. Far lane Christian F. Goll Jacob Goyer Jeremiah Hamilton, esq William Hunter Philip Honbaker Joseph Holland George Long, M. D. Samuel Lidy William M'Clelland John M>C!elland James M'Clelland John MlCoy William M'Coy Josias M'Kinnie John MkCollough SUBSCRIBERS NAMES. Capt. Wm. T. M'Kinstry James Speei' John Rodman Divid Scanes James W. Scott James Thompson John T. Smith Gen. Thomas Waddle David Smith C^pt. William Wilson Barbara Steele Christian Weise CHAMBER SBURG. Jacob Frymyer Michael Neff Philip Hutcheson Samuel Weaver GREEJYCASTLE. William H. Brotherton Chailes Hortman L eut. John E. Ciarke Abraham Hortman Hugh Davidson George Manly CAMPBL ES TO TVJV. Jabob Brindle Joseph Keefer Christian Beck Thomas Lucas George Eaker John Porter James Edwards Jacob Watson Abraham Falck (9) James Wilson Joseph Forbes Jacob Wcrtz William Houlstone LOUDOJVTOW.Y. Robert Carson Randolph Wooden Thomas Scott MERCERSBURG. Henry Barns William Hunter Nathan Brownson William Harrison. James Buchanan, esq Augustine P. M'Neai Samuel B. Craig Hannah L. Magaw John Crunbough Milliam M-Kinstry James Clark, jr William M'Coy William Craig Nancy Maxwell Hugh Cowan Jesse Magaw, M. D. Thomas Carson Charles Petett J.uie Dick John Steele Patrick Duffy John Sherer Jeremiah Evans William P. Sterre't Peter Elliott Geoige Spangler Frederick F. Gryer James Thompson Thomas Hamilton Isaac Taylor SUBSCRIBERS NAMES. James Tippens Solomon Weiser Samuel E. Vandyke Richard Wilson HUNTINGDON Robert Allison Jacob Miller James Barbour Wraz Maize Jacob Brenensman John M'Kernan Mark Batman David Newingham Thomas Blair, Esq Wiliiam Oroison, Esq Patrick Goven, Esq William R Smith, Ebq Lt George Getz Richard Smith, Esq John Hildebrand Benjamin R Stevens, Esq Doctor John A Henderson Samuel Steele, Esq John Henderson William Simpsons, Esq William Jackson Peter Swoke Thomas Montgomery, James Simpson John M-Cahan Ma] Gen. Wm. Steel John Miller, Esq Abraham Vantrus John M'Connell William Wilson Alexander M'Connell, Esq J"-nn Whitaker John Mdgee, Lewistown William S Williams Doctor Alexander Richie, Waterford John Fiely, York County Ebenezer Magee, Belfonte, (30) John Morrison, Esq Huntingdon County, (55) William Patton, Pennsylvania Furnace James E M'Murtrie, Petersburgh George Snively, Morrison's Cove v, Peter Baker ^ Divid Williams, Mifflin County Joseph Adams, Shavers Creek . . John Shade do . ■ William Reed do Matthew Atkinson do Robert Ross, Wood Cock Valley John Patton, Esq do Maxwell Kmkead, Esq Yellow Springs Alexander Nesbet, Williamsburgh Thomas H Stewart, Alexandria James Morrison i Med-. Hu" wz Ji7d C.I ., W