become a suitor unto us; Let me alone*, (as if he were holden,) was the reply to Moses when he was importuned by him. Certainly, it was because God saw it to be absolutely necessary for his children, that he would not leave it in the power of man to take it from them. Rome's empire, in all her ten persecutions, could not deprive Christians of this. This, they could make use of in the dark without a tongue, and in the midst of all their enemies, while their tormentors stood and watched them. Load a man with chains, let him lie upon the rack, and leave him but a live heart; and prayer shall dwell there out of the tyrant's reach, and comfort him. And doubtless it speaks God's heaviest judgment, when men are seared up by a spirit which cannot pray. Who can conceive any thing more miserable than a Judas or a Spira, both shut out from prayer? It deprives the soul of hope; and then is despair let in, with that immortal worm, the terrors of eternal guilt. He gives himself up to perdition, who neglects to give himself to prayer. Man is never so independent, but every minute he must need his God. And if he makes himself a stranger, can he expect to be heard as a friend? Other sacrifices of the law have sometimes met with a check; but this from a sincere heart, is an offering which is ever pleasing: and importunity does not give offence. If it prevailed upon the unjust judge, will not the most righteous God be gained upon by it? And indeed, what is it that can send us away empty, but our own sins? For if it carry us not safely

* Deut. ix. 14; Exod. xxxii. 10.

through all the roads of danger, the fault is in ourselves, not it. Like a faithful companion, when friends, wealth, health, honour, and life, are leaving us, this holds us by the hand and leads us to overlook the shades of death. When speech is gone, it lifts up hands and eyes; and instead of language, groans.

THE VIRTUOUS MAN IS A WONDER.

THAT fire is of an unusual composition, which can burn in water and so must his temper be, which can remain unsullied and retain its brightness while encompassed by corruption, and courted by those temptations which every where (like the ambient air) encircle him. When the handsome courtesan Theodata vaunted to Socrates, how much she was to be esteemed before him, because she could gain many proselytes from him, but he none at all, from her; he replied, it was no wonder; for she led men down the easy and descending road of vice, while he compelled them to the thorny and ascending path of virtue. Virtue dwells at the head of a river; to which we cannot get, but by rowing against the current. He that walks through a large field, has only a narrow path to guide him right in the way; and on both sides, what a wide room has he to wander in! What latitude can bound a profane wit, or a lascivious fancy? The loose tongue lets fly at all; while the sober David sets a watch on his lips, and examines all his language ere it passes. Every virtue has two vices, which close her up in curious limits; and if she swerve, though never so little, she suddenly steps

1

into error. Life may be compared to the passage between Scylla and Charybdis; if we miss the channel, our bark is soon wrecked. Religion, hath superstition and profaneness: fortitude, hath fear and rashness: liberality, avarice and prodigality: justice, rigour and partiality; and so the like in others: which has made some to define virtue to be nothing else but, a medium between two extremes. The truth is, the track of virtue is a nice way; it is walking upon an edge. And were there not a star within, which guides and shoots its rays of comfort, naturę would hardly take the pains to be virtuous. Virtue is a war wherein a man must be perpetual sentinel. It is an obelisk, which, though founded in the earth, hath a spire which reaches to Heaven. Like the palm-tree, though it has pleasant fruit, it is hard to come at; for the stem is not easy to climb. Vir bonus, citò in nec fieri, nec intelligi potest: nam ille, alter fortasse tanquam Phoenix, anno quingentesimo nascitur. A good man is neither quickly made, nor easily understood: for, like the Phoenix,, he is born but once in five hundred years. And this was Seneca's opinion. To which that of Ausonius is not unlike:

Vir bonus et sapiens, qualem vix repperit illum
Millibus è multis hominum, consultus Apollo.

Eid. 16.

Amongst many thousands, learn'd Apollo can,
Thus wise and good, scarce find one single man.

Virtue is exercised, in sufferings and difficulties. It is a Scæva's shield, thronged with the arrows of the enemy.

Imperia dura tolle, quid virtus erit?

From earth to heaven, the way 's nor soft, nor smooth,
In easy things, brave virtue hath no place.

To be a virtuous man, is like winning a city by inches; for we must not only make good our own ground, but we must repel our enemies, who will assault us at every opportunity. If in vice there be a constant progressive action, there must in virtue be à constant vigilance; and it is not enough that it be constant; it must be universal. In a battle, we fight in complete armour. Virtue is a cataphract: for in vain we arm one limb, if the other be without a defence. I have known a man slain in his eye, who, if but there armed, would have been a match for his enemy. The good man is the world's miracle. He is not only nature's mistress, but art's masterpiece, and heaven's mirror. To be soaked in vice, is to grow but after our breed; but the good man I will worthily magnify;-he is beyond the mausolæum or Ephesian temple. To be an honest man, is to be more than nature meant him. Like the only true philosopher's stone, he can unalchymy the allay of life, and by a certain celestial process, turn all the brass of this world into gold. He it is, who can guide his bark in every ruffling wind, and can make the thorny way pleasant. A wise and virtuous man when in adversity, may, like a dark lanthorn in the night, seem dull and dark to those who are about him; but within, he is full of light and brightness; and when he chooses to open the door, he can shew it.

OF MEMORY AND FORGETFULNESS IN

FRIENDSHIP.

FORGETFULNESS in friendship may sometimes be
as necessary as memory: for it is hard to be so
exactly vigilant, but that even the most perfect
shall sometimes give and sometimes take offence.
He who expects every thing to be complete, re-
members not the frailty of man; and he who
remembers too much, forgets himself and his friends.
If love can cover a multitude of infirmities; friend-
ship, which is the growth of love, surely ought to do
it more.
It was Christ our Saviour that laid down
his life for his sheep, even while they were straggling
from his fold. Nor ought my forgetfulness in friend-
ship to be exercised only abroad; but oftentimes as
to myself, and at home. If I do my friend a courtesy,
I make it none, if I put him in mind of it;-
expecting a return, I am kind to myself, not him;
and then I make it traffic, not beneficence:

Qua mihi præstiteris memini, semperque tenebo;
Cur igitur taceo, Posthume? tu loqueris.
Incipio quoties alicui tua dona referre,

Protinus exclamat, Dixerat ipse mihi.
Non bellè quædam faciunt duo: sufficit unus
Huic operi. Si vis ut loquar, ipse tace.
Crede mihi, quamvis ingentia, Posthume, dones ;
Auctoris pereunt garrulitate sui.

Mart. 1. 5. Ep. 58.

What, Posthume, thou hast done, I'll ne'er forget:
Why should I smother it, when thou trumpetst it?
When I to any do thy gifts relate,

He presently replies, I heard him say't.