It is a great mistake to imagine, that the pain of felf-denial is confined to virtue. He who follows the world, as much as he who follows Chrift, muft "take up his cross;" and to him afsuredly, it will prove a more oppressive burden. Vice allows all our pafsions to range uncontrolled; and where each claims to be fuperior, it is impofsible to gratify all. The pre

dominant defire can only be indulged at the expense of its rival. No mortifications which virtue exacts, are more fevere than thofe, which ambition impofes upon the love of ease, pride upon intereft, and covetoufnefs upon vanity. Self-denial, therefore, belongs, in common, to vice and virtue; but with this remarkable difference, that the passions which virtue requires us to mortify, it tends to weaken; whereas, those which vice obliges us to deny, it, at the fame time, strengthens. The one diminishes the pain of self-denial, by moderating the demand of pafsion; the other increases it, by rendering those demands imperious and violent. What distresses, that occur in the calm life of virtue, can be compared to thofe tortures, which remorfe of confcience inflicts on the wicked; to those severe humiliations, arifing from guilt combined with misfortunes, which fink them to the duft; to those violent agitations of fhame and disappointment, which fometimes drive them to the most fatal extremities, and make them abhor their exiftence? How often, in the midft of those difaftrous fituations, into which their crimes have brought them, have they execrated the feductions of vice; and, with bitter regret, looked back to the day on which they first forfook the path of innocence!

BLAIR.

SECTION XI.

On Contentment.

CONTENTMENT produces, in fome measure, all those effects which the alchymift ufually afcribes to what he calls the philofopher's ftone; and if it does not bring riches, it does the fame thing by banishing the defire of them. If it cannot remove the difquietudes arifing from a man's mind, body, or fortune, it makes him eafy under them. It has indeed a kindly influence on the foul of man, in respect of every being to whom he ftands related. It extinguishes all murmur, repining, and ingratitude, towards that Being who has allotted him his part to act in this world. It deftroys all inordinate ambition, and every tendency to corruption, with regard to the community wherein he is placed. It gives sweetness to his converfation, and a perpetual ferenity to all his thoughts.

Among the many methods which might be made ufe of for acquiring this virtue, I fhall mention only the two following. First of all, a man fhould always confider how much he has more than he wants; and fecondly, how much more unhappy he might be than he really is.

First, a man fhould always confider how much he has more than he wants. I am wonderfully pleafed with the reply which Ariftippus made to one, who condoled him upon the lofs of a farm: "Why," faid he, "I have three farms ftill, and you have but one; fo that I ought rather to be afflicted for you than you for me." On the contrary, foolish men are more apt to confider what they have loft, than what they pofsefs;

and to fix their eyes upon those who are richer than themselves, rather than on those who are under greater difficulties. All the real pleasures and conveniences of life lie in a narrow compass; but it is the humour of mankind to be always looking forward; and ftraining after one who has got the start of them in wealth and honour. For this reafon, as none can be properly called rich, who have not more than they want, there are few rich men in any of the politer nations, but among the middle fort of people, who keep their wishes within their fortunes, and have more wealth than they know how to enjoy. Perfons of a higher rank live in a kind of fplendid poverty; and are perpetually wanting, becaufe, inftead of acquiefcing in the folid pleasures of life, they endeavour to outvie one another in fhadows and appearances. Men of fenfe have at all times beheld, with a great deal of mirth, this filly game that is playing over their heads; and, by contracting their defires, enjoy all that fecret fatisfaction which others are always in queft of. The truth is, this ridiculous chafe after imaginary pleasures, cannot be fufficiently expofed, as it is the great fource of thofe evils which generally undo a nation. Let a man's eftate be what it may, he is a poor man, if he does not live within it; and naturally fets himself to fale to any one that can give him his price. When Pittacus, after the death of his brother, who had left him a good estate, was offered a great fum of money by the king of Lydia, he thanked him for his kindness; but told him, he had already more by half than he knew what to do with. In fhort, content is equivalent to wealth, and luxury to poverty; or, to give the thought a more agreeable turn, "Content is natural wealth,"

fays Socrates; to which I fhall add, Luxury is artificial poverty. I fhall therefore recommend to the confideration of thofe, who are always aiming at fuperfluous and imaginary enjoyments, and who will not be at the trouble of contracting their defires, an excellent faying of Bion the philofopher, namely, "That no man has fo much care, as he who endeavours after the moft happiness."

In the fecond place, every one ought to reflect how much more unhappy he might be, than he really is.The former confideration took in all thofe, who are fufficiently provided with the means to make themfelves eafy; this regards fuch as actually lie under fome prefsure or misfortune. Thefe may receive great alleviation, from fuch a comparifon as the unhappy perfon may make between himself and others; or between the misfortune which he fuffers, and greater misfortunes which might have befallen him.

I like the story of the honeft Dutchman, who, upon breaking his leg by a fall from the main-maft, told the standers by, it was a great mercy that it was not his neck. To which, fince I am got into quotations, give me leave to add the faying of an old philofopher, who, after having invited fome of his friends to dine with him, was ruffled by a person that came into the room in a pafsion, and threw down the table that stood before them: "Every one," fays he, " has his calamity; and he is a happy man that has no greater than this." We find an inftance to the fame purpose, in the life of Doctor Hammond, written by Bishop Fell. As this good man was troubled with a complication of diftempers, when he had the gout upon him, he used to thank God that it was not the ftone; and when he had

the ftone, that he had not both thefe diftempers on him at the fame time.

I cannot conclude this essay without obferving, that there never was any system besides that of Christianity, which could effectually produce in the mind of man the virtue I have been hitherto fpeaking of. In order to make us contented with our condition, many of the prefent philofophers tell us, that our difcontent only hurts ourselves, without being able to make any alteration in our circumftances; others, that whatever evil befalls us is derived to us by a fatal necefsity, to which fuperior beings themselves are fubject; while others, very gravely, tell the man who is miferable, that it is necessary he should be fo, to keep up the harmony of the universe; and that the scheme of Providence would be troubled and perverted, were he otherwife. These, and the like confiderations, rather filence than fatisfy a man. They may show him that his difcontent is unreasonable, but they are by no means fufficient to relieve it. They rather give defpair than confolation. In a word, a man might reply to one of these comforters, as Auguftus did to his friend, who advised him not to grieve for the death of a person whom he loved, becaufe his grief could not fetch him again: "It is for that very reason," faid the emperour, "that I grieve."

On the contrary, religion bears a more tender regard to human nature. It prefcribes to every miferable man the means of bettering his condition: nay, it fhows him, that bearing his afflictions as he ought to do, will naturally end in the removal of them. It makes him eafy here, because it can make him happy hereafter.

ADDISON,