What is the reason, for inftance, that we cannot avoid having a more hearty affection for fome persons than for others? Is it from a fimilarity of tafte and temper? From fomething in their address, that flatters our vanity; or in their humour that hits our fancy? from something in their conversation, that improves our understanding; or a certain sweetness of difpofition, and agreeablenefs of manner, that is naturally engaging ? from benefits received or expected from them? Perhaps none of thefe; but from fomething elfe, we cannot defcribe ?- Such fort of enquiries will fhow us whether our efteem and affections be rightly placed: or flow from mere inftinct, blind prejudice or fomething worse.

So on the other hand, with regard to our difaffection towards any one, or the disgust we have taken against him; if we would know ourselves, we must examine it to the bottom; and fee not only what is the pretended, but true caufe: whether it be juftifiable, and our refentments duly proportioned to it. Is his manner of thinking, talking, and acting, quite different from mine, and therefore what I cannot approve? or have I received fome real affront or injury from him? Be it fo, my continued resentment against him, on either of these accounts,

may

may be owing, notwithstanding, more to fome unreasonable prejudice in me, than to any real fault in him.

For as to the former: his way of thinking, talking and acting, may poffibly be juster than my own, which the mere force of cuftom and habit only makes me prefer to his. However, be it ever fo wrong, he may not have had the fame advantage of improving his understanding, addrefs and conduct, as I have had; therefore his defects herein are more excufable: and he may have many other excellencies wherewith I am not endowed. But he is not only ignorant and ' unmanner'd, but infufferably vain, con'ceited and overbearing at the same time.' -Why, that perhaps he cannot help: It "may be the fault of his nature; whence he is an object of pity rather then refentment: had I such a disposition by nature, I should perhaps, with all my felf-improvement, find it a difficult thing to manage. And therefore, tho' I can never chufe fuch a one for an agreeable companion, yet I ought not to harbour a diflike to him; but to love, pity and pray for him, as a perfon under a great misfortune; and be thankful that I am not under the fame. But he is quite blind to 'this fault of his temper, and does not appear to be in the leaft fenfible of it.'

G 3

Why,

Why, that is a greater misfortune ftill; and he ought to be the more pitied.

And as to the other pretended ground of difguft, he hath often offended and injured me.' Let me confider, (1.) whether any offence was really intended; whether I do not impute that to ill-nature, which was only owing to ill-manners; or that to defign, which proceeded merely from ignorance. Do I not take offence before it is given? If fo, the fault is mine, and not his. And the refentment I have conceived against him, I ought to turn upon myself (g).—Again, (2.) Did I not provoke him to it, when I knew his temper? The fault is ftill my own. I did or might know the pride, paffion or perversenefs of his nature; why then did I exafperate him? a man that would needlessly rouze a lion, must not expect always to come off fo favourably as the hero of La Mancha.But, (3.) fuppofe I were not the aggreffor; yet, how came I into his company? who led me into the temptation ? he hath acted agreeable to his nature; but I have not acted according to my reafon, in laying myself fo open to him: I knew him, why did I not

fhun

(g) For every trifle fcorn to take offence; That always fhews great pride or little fenfe. Good nature and good fenfe must always join; To erris human, to forgive divine.

Pope.

fhun him, as I would any other animal that does mischief by inftinct? if I must needs put my finger in a wafp's neft, why should I blame them for flinging me?-Or, (4.) if I could not avoid his company, why did I not arm myfelf? why did I venture defenceless into fo much danger? Or, (5.) suppose he hath done me a real and undeserved injury, without any fault or provocation; yet does not my difcontent aggravate it? does it not appear greater to me, than it does to any body elfe? or than it will to me, after the present ferment is over? -- And (laftly,) after all, muft I never forgive? how fhall I be able to repeat the Lord's Prayer, or read our Saviour's comment upon it, Mat. vi. 14, 15. with an unforgiving temper? do I not hope to be forgiven ten thousand talents; and cannot I forgive my fellow-fervant thirty-pence? when I know not but he hath repented, and GoD hath forgiven him, whofe forgiveness I want infinitely more than my greatest enemy does mine *

Such

* A man despises me: what then? did he know me more, he would perhaps defpife me more. But I know myself better than he can know me; and therefore defpife myself more. And though his contempt in this inftance may be groundlefs, yet in others it would be but too well founded. I will therefore not only bear with, but forgive

it.

Such confiderations are of great use to foften our prejudices against perfons; at once to difcover their true fprings, and to prevent the bad effects of them. Happy is that Christian, who could call to mind, and apply to his relief, half the sentiments which that excellent Heathen emperor and philofopher Marcus Antoninus hath faid upon this fubject: fome of which, for the benefit of the English reader, I have fubjoined hereto (h).'

*

(3.) The

it.-contemnendus eft ipfe contemptus, faith Seneca. But fuch retorted fcorn is more becoming the character of a Stoic than a Chriftian.

6

It has been reckoned a wife and witty answer which one of the philofophers returned to his friend, who advifed him to revenge an injury that had been done him; What, (fays he) if an afs kick me, muft I needs kick him again?' And perhaps there is more wit than wifdom in that reply. It feems indeed to carry in it fomething of a true greatnefs of mind; but does it not at the fame time difcover a kind of haughty and contemptuous fpirit? The truth is, (as a judicious writer observes upon it) it is at best but a lame ⚫ and mis-shapen charity; it has more of pride than ⚫ goodness. We fhould learn of the holy Jefus, 'who was not only meek, but lowly. We fhould contemn the injury, and pity the weakness; but • fhould not difdain or defpife the perfons of our • enemies. Charity vaunteth not herfelf, is not puffed up, doth not behave itfelf unfeemly. See Scougal's Duty of loving our Enemies.

(h) In the morning remember to fay to thyfelf; this day perhaps I may meet with fome imperti

nent,