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THE LIBRARY
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THE
COUNSELS OF A FATHER.
Printed by T. Miller, Noble Street, Cfieaptide.
SIR AtATTHETT HAiJE.
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COUNSELS OF A FATHER,
I^
FOUR LETTERS
OF
SIR MATTHEW HALE TO HIS CHILDREN.
TO WHICH IS ADDED,
Zf)f practical %iU of a true ©^risittatt,
IN THE ACCOUNT OF
THE GOOD STEWARD AT THE GREAT AUDIT.
BY SIR MATTHEW HALE.
WITH A" NEW MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR'S LIFE.
" I am now on the shady side of three-score years : I write to yon what '^oa have often heard me in substance speak." First Letter.
SECOND EDITION.
LONDON :
PBINTED FOR TAYLOR AND HESSEY,
93, FLEET STREET.
1817.
GIFT
ADVERTISEMENT,
Sm Matthew Hale was twice married ; first to Anne More, the sister of Sir Henry More, of Fanley, Berks, Knight; and se- condly, to Anne, daughter of Bishop,
Esq. of the same place. By the former he had six children : Robert, Matthew, Thomas, Edward, Mary, and Elizabeth. They were all living in 1662, the date affixed to one of these letters ; and the eldest, Robert, was at that time in his 23d year. It is to this son he alludes in the above-mentioned letter, when he says, " Let the original be laid up safely for your brother R." These letters of Sir Matthew Hale were written when he was on the circuit : — thus the duties of the parent were fulfilled, without interfering with those of the judge.
VI
Of these children, Robert died in J 670, Matthew in 1675, and Thomas, in May, 1676, half a year before his father. These were sad blows to a sinking man, whose children appear to have been most dear to him. But he had other cares to occupy his latter days, and other claims upon him as a parent. His son Robert had married Frances, daughter of Sir Francis Chokke, of Aving- ton, Berkshire, Knight. But she dying at nearly the same time with her husband, the charge of their €i\e orphan children, all of them infants, devolved upon Sir Matthew and his second wife. Thus he had another young family to protect and educate in his old age. With these he pursued the same system which he had adopted towards his own children ; writing to them a long letter of sound advice, which was become the more necessary, as in the common course of events he could not hope much longer to superin- tend their conduct. It is preserved among his MSS. in Lincoln's Inn library, and is entitled, *' A Letter of Advice to my Grand-
Vll
children ; especially to my two Sons, Mat- thew and Gabriel Hale, and to my three Daughters, Anne, Mary, and Frances Hale, all Children of my eldest Son Robert Hale, and Frances his Wife, both deceased." These all survived their grandfather. The three girls died at the ages of 16, 17, and 18 years.
The Four Letters of Sir Matthew Hale to his own Children are now, for the first time, presented to the public in a handsome volume, and with the text comparatively free from errors. For subject and style, and it is hoped for accuracy and elegance, the work deserves to be considered as a standard English classic, fit for the instruction of youth, and the edification of all men.
The Account of the Good Steward being the work of the same hand, is added to the Letters, with the view of rendermg them more complete. It is pleasing to see all those precepts which are enforced in the former part of the volume, embodied, and
vm
reduced to practice in this latter treatise, which, as it contains a summary of the whole faith and duty of a Christian, has been ad- judged by many to be little more than a portrait of its estimable author.
The materials for the Memoir prefixed to this edition, were drawn chiefly from the excellent Life of Sir Matthew Hale, by Bishop Burnet, and from the Appendix to that account, written by Mr. Richard Baxter. The length and minute detail of both those articles, prevented the Editor from reprinting them, as he wished, in their original form.
^■. %\
THE LIFE
SIR MATTHEW HALE.
A LIFE of extraordinary incidents, and con- tinual action, forms the most interesting subject of biography ; but the most useful example is often met with in very different situations. Of this we have an instance. in the Memoirs of Sir Matthew Hale, which exhibit few circumstances of striking occur- rence; but as they give a portrait of one who faithfully discharged all the duties of his station, who lived in the practice of every virtue, and whose conduct is of universal application as a rule of life for others, scarcely any have a better claim to the rea- der's attention.
B
He wa8 .bom <mi the first ©f November, 1 669/ at Aiderley, iu Oloucesiershire . His father had practised as a barrister ; but from a tenderness of conscience, which, even if unfounded, can never be too highly respect- ed, he retired from the profession of the law : he could not reconcile himself to the custom of setting up false pleas, which, as he thought, was to tell a lie ; and in the legal character, as it seemed to him, there were many other things required, which were in- compatible with the duties of a Christian.
Matthew Hale lost his mother when he was only three years old, and his excellent father died in two years after. But some kmd relations took charge of the orphan; and if a good education were the only advan- tage he could have derived from the longer life of his parents, the care of these new friends to have him properly instructed, left him no room to regret his loss. But there is an influence in the person of every father, which neither he can forfeit, nor his child
can disregard. The infant naturally imbibes a love and respect for that being, under whose protection he feels safe ; in whose wisdom he places his reliance ; whose smiles are his reward ; and whose displeasure is the only thing he dreads. So far from being able to make comparisons, to ap- prove what is right, and to shun what is otherwise, the child has a sacred feeling towards his father, which prevents him from conceiving even a thought to his dis- paragement. In his estimation he is not so much the best, as the only perfect being in the world. Fathers should consider this, and for the sake of their offspring should preserve appearances at least; for it is a melancholy day for both, when the veil is rent, and the conviction flashes on the mind of the child, that the conduct of a parent must be no longer his example.
Had his father lived, Matthew Hale would have had, in addition to a good edu- cation, the advantage of an admirable model
for imitation. To the want of this, it was possibly owing that he contracted some dissolute habits. When he quitted the uni- versity, he took too much pleasure, and spent too much time,
" In feats of strength, dexterity, and speed."
He was addicted to company, loved fine clothes, and frequented the theatres to such a degree, that his mind was not only unset- tled, but in danger of being quite corrupted. Of this he was soon after sensible ; and so strong was his impression of the danger he had escaped, that he resolved he would ne- ver see another play. It is not the mere circumstance of being present at these en- tertainments which constitutes the wrong. They who attend but seldom, may perhaps be amused without injury to their morals ; but when men grow fond of such exhibitions, or feel the diversions of a theatre begin to take hold of their minds, then the indul- gence is pernicious, and they should avoid it altogeth^.
There is a redeeming spirit about some men, more than others, which will not long allow them to be guilty of misconduct. That tenderness of conscience, for which the father was distinguished, was possessed by the son; and to its predominating influence may be ascribed all that is valuable in his charac- ter, or advantageous in the events of his life. Travelling one Sunday from the West of England, he met with many accidents : one horse fell lame, and another died. These, might have happened on another day, but occurring when they did, they gave rise to many serious reflections, the result of which was, his firm determination never again to abuse the Sabbath, but to honour and ob- serve it in the way that God had command- ed ; and in this determination he so steadily persisted, that, for thirty-six years together, he never failed attending divine service on that day.
To a mind so susceptible of admonition, and desirous of improvement, opportunities
are never wanting. Events, as trifling as the falling of an apple from a tree, will lead a thinking person to great moral, as well as scientific discoveries ; and happy are they who have a wise and understanding heart, to profit by the first hint that offers. But the most awful lessons are too frequently neglected. In company with some students, Mr. Hale was one day dining and making merry, when, from excessive drinking, a young man of the party fell down to all ap- pearance dead. All those who were present were much terrified: some of them, it is to be hoped, felt lasting good effects from the impression which that moment made upon their hearts. Mr. Hale was deeply affected: he went into another room, and on his knees most fervently besought God to restore his friend, and to pardon the intemperance of which they had been guilty. For himself, he vowed that he would never keep compa- ny in that free manner again, nor drink even a health for the future. His friend was rcr stored to life, and Mr. Hale, as long as he
lived, religiously kept his vow. In extreme distress, when all our hopes are fixed on the special interposition of Heaven, we are very ready to promise extraordinary goodness on our own part ; as if that were a condition which it became us to propose, or depend- ed on us to fulfil : but our inability to do any thing that is right without divine assis- tance, the worthlessness of our best actions in the sight of God, and the consciousness that we have no merits of our own, let us live ever so virtuously, should make us hum- ble, patient, and apprehensive, full of sup- plication, with fear and trembling, and too well aware of our own nature to place any confidence in our own strength. Prayers are a much better preservative than Vows. These, however, are frequently made by persons in Mr. Hale's situation, who have not the grace to keep them with the same fidelity. In all such cases, it would be much better, silently to resolve, and yet as stea- dily to execute ; and to avoid imposing any more restraints on ourselves, than are abso-
lutely necessary to some good end. Mr. Hale was placed in disagreeable and even dangerous situations, from his vow to drink no healths. It caused his loyalty to be sus- pected, during the civil wars in the reign of Charles the First ; and, but for uncommon prudence, it might have cost him his life. Dilemmas like these it is better to avoid, when the object for which they are encoun- tered is no more than an innocent custom ; and that Mr. Hale himself thougljt so after- wards, may be inferred, from his modest unwillingness to give pledges to the world, even for the maintenance of his religious practices.
Reclaimed from the error of his youth, by the reflections which these accidents pro- duced, and encouraged by the advice of the learned counsellor, Serjeant Glanvil, Mr. Hale commenced that vigorous course of study in the profession of the law, which laid the foundation for his future greatness. He was in his twenty-first year when he was admitted into Lincoln's inn. His constitu-
9
tion was naturally a good one ; and he could endure severe application for a longer time than most men ; but it is almost incredible what fatigue he underwent, in the prosecu- tion of his undertaking. For many years, he devoted sixteen hours a day to reading. He always rose early in the morning, and would never allow himself to be idle during the day. He held no correspondence or con- versation upon trifling subjects, conceiving Time to be God's gift, who did not bestow upon us more than was strictly necessary. And certainly we should think that miller a foolish man, who stopt his mill to talk about news, while all the water was running to waste : yet we are guilty of this absurdity every day ; and what is worse, we draw from a reservoir which can never be replenished.
By means of unwearied diligence, Mr. Hale attained to such a depth and variety of knowledge as is seldom equalled. Law and divinity formed the principal subjects of his studies : when he was tired of these, he had
B 5
10
recourse to experimental philosopky and the mathematics, which to him were diversions. His readiness in arithmetic was very uncom- mon. He was profoundly skilled in chro- nology, and well acquainted with the writings of the Greek philosophers. Tn physic, ana- tomy, and surgery, he possessed as much knowledge as could be obtained without actual practice ; and as a reason for such acquisitions, he used to say, that " no man could be absolutely a master in any profes- sion, without having some skill in other
But, next to the study of the law, divinity engaged his chief attention. In this pursuit, not only his mind but his heart was occu- pied. He delighted in that most profitable part of it, contemplation — " to commune with his own heart, and in his chamber, and be still ;" and at these times he would en- deavour to conceive such exalted ideas con- cerning God, as might purify his thoughts, and invest his soul with a holy calmness, not
11
liable to bejinvaded by the cares of the world. The choicest of these speculations are be- queathed to us in his Contemplations, Moral and Divine, 2 vols. 8vo, and in several MSS. deposited in the library of Lincoln's Inn, which as yet remain unpublished.
His manner of study was liberal, and adapted to the character of the man. He loved to be abroad very early in the morn- ing, not so much for the health and exercise of his body, as of his mind. With the works of the Almighty before his eyes, and an in- clination to make the most of the sentiments they suggested, he emancipated his under- standing from the chains of prejudice and passion ; he got above that short-sighted view of things which the narrow policy of this world is apt to engender ; and having impar- tially brought his judgment to a balance, he then began to weigh the subject which he intended to investigate. In all his inquiries he went as nearly as possible to the fountain- head ; not contenting himself with current opinions in the place of truth, but examining
It
all with a jealous eye, and striving to trace them, in every instance, to those immutable first principles M'hence only they derive au- thority. When all this was done, and his inquiries fell short of certainty, he did not draw positive conclusions from what he had learnt, but left his mind open to further light, from whatever quarter it might come. As far as he had gone, he cast up the amount of evidence, and saw the state of the ques- tion ; but he never closed the account. With the same forbearance and humility, he be- lieved that on many subjects it was impos- sible for human reason to be satisfied, yet this impression did not lead. him to cut oflF all speculation concerning those higher mat- ters. He rather applied another kind of argument suitable to their nature, and by analogy obtained an insight beyond that of the senses. Of the sublime mysteries of our religion he loved to reason, not rashly or with presumption, but according to that in- tellectual scale by which God has permitted us to estimate things so far above mortal reach : and he had this proof given him of
13
the propriety of his practice in this respect, that after all his theories, he found himself still more lowly-minded, more conscious of his own ignorance and weakness, fuller of every christian grace, and fitter to practise every virtue. On Sunday evenings, after attending public worship, he made it a rule to meditate on some important question in religion; and because he could better follow the order of his thoughts when he wrote them down, as well as for the sake of improving himself by their subsequent peru- sal, he was accustomed to commit them to paper at the time. Though these opportu- nities may not seem to promise the comple- tion of any considerable undertaking, yet it is a fact, that all his moral and religious works are the production of these scattered hours.
As he was himself a great lover of learn- ing, so was there nothing more delightful to him than to encourage it in others. To young people, who were fond of reading, he was particularly kind and attentive, pointing out to
14
them the best plans for study, and answering all their questions with a readiness and sweet- ness, which won them to acquaint him with all their doubts and difficulties. He was no less earnest to promote their moral improve- ment, availing himself of his high character and great experience, to give advice on many things relating to their appearance and be- haviour; so that many young men forsook the vanities of dress, with other youthful follies, from a desire to obtain his favourable opi- nion.
A benevolent disposition, and great sim- plicity of manner, gave a charm to his deportment which fascinated all who ap- proached him. But his friends were par- ticularly happy in his company, for he was playfully free and communicative in dis- course, and never at a loss for some pleasant topic, which might e qually interest and inform them by its discussion. It v\ as a rule with him,never to interrupt another in his speech ; and this forbearance caused others to lis-
15
ten to him with equal patience; by which means, many a subject came to be sifted to the bottom, which would otherwise have pro- cured only a smart remark. It allowed every one time to look over and arrange his own thoughts, and to offer the best of his judg- ment for the edification of his hearers. If any person could bejustified, in anticipating and interrupting the delivery of another's ob- servations, it would have been Mr. Hale, whose information and ingenuity were not often matched; but he was so far from presuming on this account, or thinking he had more to confer than to acquire, that he would have held it a proof of his want of sense, if he failed to extract something va- luable out of every man's discourse. This caused Mr. Richard Baxter, the great theo- logian, to say of him, " I never more per- ceived in any man, how much great know- ledge and wisdom facilitate addition, and the reception of any thing not before known. Such a one presently perceiveth that evi- dence which another is incapable of."
16
Hale said of himself, thathe was naturally passionate-^ butso effectually had he subdued the irritability of his temper, that except for a momentary rising of his colour, it could not be perceived that he was ever greatly moved. Persons of quick tempers are said to com- pensate for the frequency of their passion, by the shortness of its duration; while those who from duller feelings are slow to anger, take a long time to get rid of their resentment. It is almost a balance of evils. The best dis- position is undoubtedly that which, naturally alive to provocation, is yet chastened to a gentleness which will not take offence, but makes every allowance for a brother's infir- mity. A man of this temper will not be the less ready, when humanity or justice requires it, to defend himself, and to protect others, against the wantonness of insult, oppression, or brutality. Such was the character of Hale. He gave, without a fee, the best pro- fessional advice to a man who had once grievously injured him, " thanking God that he had learned to forget injuries." And when-
17
evter his children or his servants had offended him, he deferred speaking till he was per- fectly calm : then with a serenity and tender- ness that could not be withstood, he so dis- creetly set before them their fault and its consequences, that he had no occasion to censure or condemn — their own hearts- had done it already. But he would not retain in his service those who were decidedly im- moral, observing, " he that by his place ought to punish disorders in other people, must by no means suffer them in his own house/'
His kindness extended to the brute crea- tion, as it must ever do, when it is founded on a right principle : the merciful man is merciful to his beast. He kept all his horses and dogs till they died of old age, and would never suffer them to be over-worked or ijl treated. The only time he was ever known to be thoroughly angry was, when one of his servants suffered a little bird, that was kept in the house, to die for want of food.
18
Even in the best cause, he did not suflfer his feelings to get the victory over reason. His son died under circumstances pecuharly distressing. To so kind-hearted a man, and so affectionate a father, this must have been a very severe affliction ; yet to all outward appearance he maintained his usual equa- nimity ; and, like a wise man, he observed to one who condoled ^vith him on the occasion, that " these are the sad effects of living long : such must look to see many sad and unac- ceptable things."
Soon after he was called to the bar, the civil wars broke out, and it became a diffi- cult task for men in conspicuous stations, to conduct themselves so as not to give offence. The rules by which Mr. Hale governed his actions at this critical season were, first, hy engaging in no faction, and secondly, hy the constant favouring and receiving those that uere lowest.
He had noticed in Cornelius Nepos, that
19
Pomponius Atticus, by closely adhering to these two maxims of prudence, had safely, and with the esteem of all parties, passed through the most hazardous times of the Roman republic ; and he thought it an ex- periment worth repeating. That he was equally fortunate may be collected from this striking fact, that though he heartily de- fended many of the royal party when they were tried for high treason, and had the honour to be appointed counsel for the un- happy Charles, when he fell the victim of an indiscreet opposition to popular senti- ment, yet Cromwell so well knew the in- tegrity of the man, and the influence of his high reputation, that he made him one of his judges in the Court of Common Pleas. On the restoration. King Charles the Second appointed him Lord Chief Baron : and the great Earl of Clarendon, when he delivered him his commission, concluded his speech with the folio wing singular compliment; "that if the king could have found out an honester and fitter man for that employment, he would
90
not have advanced him to it; and that he had therefore preferred him, because he knew none that deserved it so well." The honour of knighthood is usually granted to those who are advanced to this dignity; but such was the modesty of Mr. Hale, that it was only by the stratagem of meeting him unexpectedly at the Lord Chancellor's, that the king could find an opportunity of con- ferring the title.
As he felt a real love for his fellow- crea- tures, so with the strongest emotions of pity did he regard all those, who for their crimes were brought before him in his judicial ca- pacity. During their trials, he expressed him- self towards them with a solemnity, that be- spoke his deep sense of the awful responsi- bility of his office, yet accompanied with a certain compassionate and encouraging de- meanour, which left them nothing to fear from the influence of private feeling. The terrors of the law were sufficient he thought, without any aggravation or colouring from
21 ^
him. Not that he omitted to make those salu- tary impressions which his duty enjoined him; but he preferred exciting them by plain and simple language. And when he had to pass sentence, there was something so fervent and pathetic in his speech to the prisoner, that many persons have said '* they heard few such sermons."
In his earlier years, he laid down certain rules for the regulation of his life, which mark by what steps he arrived at eminence. Happily for those who wish to follow his example, a rough draught of these has been preserved.
MORNING.
I. To lift up the heart to God, in thankful- ness for renewing my life.
II. To renew my covenant with God in Christ, 1. By renewed acts of faith, re- ceiving Christ, and rejoicing in the height of that relation. 2. Resolution of being one of his people, doing him allegiance.
2«
III. Adoration and prayer.
IV. Setting a watch over my own infirmi- ties and passions, over the snares laid in our way. Perimus liciiis ^,
DAY EMPLOYMENT.
There must be an employment : two kinds.
I. Our ordinary calling : to serve God in it. It is a service to Christ though never so mean. Colos. iii. Here faithfulness, diligence, cheerfulness* Not to overlay myself with more business than I can bear.
II. Our spiritual employments : mingle somewhat of God's immediate service in this day.
BEFBESHHENTS.
I. Meat and drink, moderation seasoned with somewhat of God.
II. Recreations. 1 . Not our business. 2. Suitable. No games, if given to covet- ousness or passion.
• We perish bj indulgences.
23
IP ALONr.
L Beware of wandering, vain, lustful thoughts ; fly from thyself rather than en- tertain these.
II. Let thy solitary thoughts be profitable. View the evidences of thy salvation, the state of thy soul, the coming of Christ, thy own mortality : it will make thee hum- ble and watchful.
COMPANY.
Do good to them. Use God's name reve- rently. Beware of leaving an ill impres- sion of ill example. Receive good from them if more knowing.
EVENING.
Cast up the accounts of the day. If ought amiss, beg pardon. Gather resolution of more vigilance. If well, bless the mercy and grace of God that hath supported thee*
24
When he was made a Judge, he drew up another paper for his government. Though it has reference to duties which few are placed in situations to perform, it contains some excellent principles of universal appli- cation, which render it worthy of attention.
THINGS NECESSARY TO BE CONTINUALLY HAD IN REMEMBRANCE.
I. That, in the administration of justice, I am entrusted for God, the King, and Country ; and therefore,
II. That it be done ; 1. Uprightly ; 2. De- liberately; 3. Resolutely.
III. That I rest not upon my own under- standing or strength, but implore and rest upon the direction and strength of God.
IV. That, in the execution of justice, I carefully lay aside my own passions, and not give way to them, however provoked.
V. That I be wholly intent upon the busi- ness that I am about, remitting all other
25
cares and thoughts, as unseasonable, and interruptions.
VI. That I suffer not myself to be prepos- sessed with any judgment at all, till the whole business and both parties be heard.
VII. That I never engage myself in the beginning of any cause, but reserve my- self unprejudiced till the whole be heard.
VIII. That in business capital, though my nature prompt me to pity, yet to consider that there is also a pity due to the coun- try.
IX. That I be not too rigid in matters purely conscientious, where all the harm is diversity of judgment.
X. That I he not biassed with compassion to the poor, or favour to the rich, in point of justice.
XI. That popular, or court applause, or distaste, have no influence into any thing I do, in point of distribution of justice.
XII. Not to be solicitous what men will say or think, so long as I keep myself ex- actly according to the rules of justice.
c
26
XIII. If in criminals it be a measuring cast, to incline to mercy and acquittal.
XIV. In criminals that consist merely in words, when no more harm ensues, mo- deration is no injustice.
XV. In criminals of blood, if the fact be evident, severity is justice.
XVI. To abhor all private solicitations, of what kind soever, and by whomsoever, in matters depending.
XVII. To charge ipy servants : 1. Not to interpose in any business whatsoever. 2. Not to take more than their known fees. 3. Not to give any undue precedence to causes. 4. Not to recommend counsel.
XVIII. To be short and sparing at meals, that I may be the fitter for business.
In the year l671, Sir Matthew Hale was appointed Lord Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench. In this situation he mani- fested his usual humiHty, benevolence, in- dustry, judgment, and piety ; but to greater advantage, as the sphere of his usefulness
27
was enlarged. For four years and a half he faithfully discharged this important trust. At the end of that time his constitution sud- denly gave way. He became afflicted with asthma, and soon after was attacked by drop- sy. Feeling that he could not possibly re- cover, he made haste to resign his office, that he might set his affairs in order, and prepare for death. Bishop Burnet says, in that biography from which this Memoir is prin cipally composed, that Sir Matthew "had been a long time wearied with the distrac- tions that his employment had brought on him ; and his profession had become un- grateful to him." Herein we perceive traces of the same conscientious scruples by which his father had been influenced : but in Sir Matthew tbfey were qualified by other con- siderations. What tliese were, and in what light he always regarded his profession, may be seen from the following paper, drawn up when he was resolved to retire altogether from public business.
c 2
28
" First, If I consider the business of my profession, whether as an advocate or as a judge, it is true, I do acknowledge, by the institution of Almighty God, and the dis- pensation of his Providence, I am bound to industry and fidelity in it ; and as it is an act of obedience unto his will, it carries with it some things of religious duty, and I may and do take comfort in it, and expect a reward of my obedience to him, and the good that I do to mankind therein, from the bounty and beneficence, and promise of Almighty God : and it is true also, that without such employments, civil societies cannot be sup- ported, and great good redounds to mankind from them ; and in these respects, the con- science of my own industry, fidelity, and integrity in them, is a great comfort and satisfaction to me. But yet this I must say concerning these employments, considered simply in themselves, that they are very full of cares, anxieties, and perturbations.
" Secondly, That though they are bene-
^9
ficial to others, yet they are of the least benefit to him that is employed in them.
" Thirdly, That they do necessarily in- volve the party, whose office it is, in great dangers, difficulties, and calumnies.
" Fourthly, That they only serve for the meridian of this life, which is short and un- certain.
"Fifthly, That though it be my duty, faithfully to serve in them, while I am called to them, and till I am duly called from them, yet they are great consumers of that little time we have here ; which, as it seems to me, might be better spent in a pious con- templative life, and a due provision for eter- nity. I do not know a better temporal em- ployment than Martha had, in testifying her love and duty to our Saviour, by making provision for him ; yet our Lord tells her. That though she was troubled about many things, there was only one thing necessary, and Mary had chosen the better part."
Consistently with the result of these views
30
he obtained his discharge, after much delay, from the king's unwilHngness to part with so faithful a servant. Then did his spirit rejoice in its new found liberty, as a bird that has escaped from the cage. But the bird that has been long confined, loses the power to fly about and enjoy itself as forr merly : and now Sir Matthew Hale had got liberty indeed; but his health was ruined, and the energies of his mind were rapidly decaying. He had but little power and a short time left, to realize that happy privacy which he so feelingly describes, in the follow- ing translation from Seneca's Thyestes.
Let him, that will, ascend the tottering seat Of courtly grandeur, and become as great As are his mounting wishes : as for me, JjCt sweet repose and rest my portion be. Give me some mean obscure recess ; a sphere Out of the road of business, or the fear Of falling lower ; where I sweetly may Myself and dear retirement still enjoy. Let not my life or name be known unto The grandees of the time, tost to and fro By censures or applause j but let my age Slide gently by, not overthwart the stage
31
Of public action ; unheard, unseen, And unconcern'd, as if I ne'er had been. And thus, while I shall pass my silent days In shady privacy, free from the noise And bustles of the mad world, then shall I A good old innocent plebeian die. Death is a mere sm'prise, a very snare To him, that makes it his life's greatest care. To be a public pageant, known to all, — But unacquainted with himself doth fall.
He quitted office on the 15th of February, 1676; and died on the Christmas-day fol- lowing. The interval was spent in exercises of piety and devotion. He had always been constant in the use of family prayer, per- forming the duty himself, if there was no clergyman present : and on Sundays it had been his uniform practice to repeat to his family the heads of the sermons, with some further remarks and expositions of his own* He usually invited his poor neighbours to dine with him, on that day, at his own table ; and when any were sick, he sent the choicest of bis food to their houses.
From the commencement of his public life, he had laid aside a tenth of his income for charitable uses; and with his perquisites, when he was a judge, he secretly liberated many poor debtors from prison. He did not neglect even common beggars, but felt it his duty to relieve them with the small sums he could conveniently spare ; thinking that charity consisted not so much in tlie good actually done, as in the motive with which it is attempted to be done. It is well for mankind, that Charity, w^hich is the great- est and most necessary of all christian vir- tues, is not the impulse of a feeling heart ; for that depends on certain constitutional tendencies, with which no man can endow himself: nor that it consists in the success which attends our alms ; for much of that is derived from prudence and penetration, in which the best of men are frequently de- ficient : still less, that the magnitude or splendour of the gift declares the charity of the donor ; for riches are not the lot of all ;
33
and we know that a man may give all he has to the poor, and his body to be burned, and yet want charity. True charity is known by the motive, and by that alone ; and none but He who sees the heart, can tell who is cha- ritable, and who is not. It is not for us, therefore, to judge others : nor should we attempt to do it, if we have charity ; for charity " thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." But though we judge not others, we are commanded to judge ourselves; and this is the test by which we may try our charity : — Love to God. If we love Him we shall keep his commandments, and obedience to these is perfect charity — it comprises the whole of our duty to our neighbour. If we do every thing to them, which we in their situations should wish them or others to do to us ; and this, not for the relief of our own feelings, or to gain the good opinion of men, but from a desire to please God by our behaviour ;
34
then we possess that charity which shall never fail : and this charity is what every man may possess, by God's grace, when- ever he pleases.
The habit of considering himself as he appeared in the sight of the Almighty, and not in the estimation of men, made Sir Matthew Hale avoid all undue opportunities of giving publicity to the good parts of his character. He had such an aversion to all ostentation in religion, that he was careful to make no great professions, wishing that his deeds, rather than his tongue, should make known his faith ; and humbly fearing lest by any means he should at last fall away, and cause the religion of Christ to be evil spoken of. This was especially the case with him in his private devotions, wherein he se- cluded himself from the observation even of his own family.
The nearer his death approached, the more fervent and frequent were his prayers ;
S5
and when his voice could no longer be heard, it mi^ht be seen from his eyes and hands being almost constantly lifted up, that his soul was still in earnest communion with that blessed Spirit, whQ soon after called it out of darkness into his marvellous light. For more than a year, he had suffered such pain that he was unable to lie down in bed, but he never complained. His end was peaceful : he had no struggling, nor seemed to be in any pajtigs in his last moments.
Such was the lif^ and death of Sir Matthew Hale. His character speaks for itself, and needs.no comment : it is seen in all his actions ; and is further pourtrayed in the Letters which compose this little vo- lume. They were written at different pe- riods, while he was on the circuit as a judge. They prove how much the happiness of his children was the object of his constant so- licitude. Loving them so sincerely, he could not but address to them the best of his understanding. Whatever conduct would
36
carry them most comfortably through this world intQ a blessed eternity, we may be sure he would recommend ; and such pre- cepts only would he give them, as he had found by experience were conducive to so desirable an end. Many books on such topics have been composed for the sole pur- pose of being published, and what they contain is therefore sometimes the result of ingenious speculation ; but these Letters were designed purely for private use, and every word of them is practical wisdom. Let them be read then with that confidence and prepossession in their favour, with which, as his own children, we should have received them ; and, by the blessing of Heaven, they will not fail of producing a good effect.
LETTER I.
ON RELIGION.
DEAR CHILDREN,
I INTENDED to havc bccn at Alderley this Whitsuntide, desirous to renew those Counsels and Advices which I have often given you, in order to your greatest concernment j namely, the everlasting good and welfare of your Souls hereafter, and the due ordering of your Lives and conversations here.
And although young people are apt, through their own indiscretion, or the ill advice of others, to think these kind of entertainments but dry and empty matters, and the morose and needless interpositions of old men 5 yet give him leave to tell you, that very well knows what he says, these things are of more
38 LETTER I.
importance and concernment to you, than ex- ternal gifts and bounties, (wherein) neverthe- less I have not been wanting to you, according to my ability.
This was my intention in this journey) and though 1 have been disappointed therein, yet I thought good, by letters and messages, to do something that might be done that way for your benefit, that I had otherwise intended to have done in person.
Assure yourselves, therefore, and believe it from one that knows what he says, from one that can neither have any reason or end to de- ceive you J that the best gift I can give you is good Counsel j and the best counsel I can give you is that which relates to your greatest import and concernment J namely. Religion.
And therefore since I cannot at this time deliver it to you in person, I shall do it by this letter, wherein I shall not be very large, but kfeep myself within the bounds proper for a letter, and to those things only, at this time, which may be most of present use and moment to you J and by your due observance of these directions, I shall have a good character, both of your dutifulness to God, your obedience to
ON RELIGION, 39
your Father, and also of your discretion and prudence J for it is most certain, that as Re- ligion is the best means to advance and certify human nature, so no man shall be either truly wise or truly happy without it, and the love of it J no, not in this life, much less in that which is to come.
First. Therefore every morning and every evening, upon your knees, humbly commend yourselves to the Almighty God in Prayer, begging his mercy to pardon your sins, his grace to direct you, his providence to protect you J returning him humble thanks for all his dispensations towards you, yea, even for his very corrections and afflictions 3 intreating him to give you wisdom and grace, to make a sober, patient, humble, profitable use of them, and in his due time to deliver you from them ; con- cluding your prayers with the Lord's Prayer. This will be a certain means to bring your mind into a right frame, to procure you comfort and blessing, and to prevent thousands of incon- veniences and mischiefs, to which you will be otherwise subjected.
40 LETTER I.
Secondly. Every morning read seriously and reverently a portion of the Holy Scripture, and acquaint yourself with the history and doctrine thereof : it is a book full of light and wisdom, vs^ill make you wise to eternal life, and furnish you with directions and principles, to guide and order your life safely and pru- dently.
Thirdly. Conclude every evening with read- ing some part of the Scripture, and Prayer in your Family.
Fourthly. Be strict and religious observers of the Lord's-day. Resort to your parish- church twice that day, if your health will per- mit, and attend diligently and reverently to the public prayers and sermons. He cannot reasonably expect a blessing from God the rest of the week, that neglects his duty to God, in the due consecration of this day, to the special service and duty to God, which this day re- quires.
Fifthly. Receive the Sacrament at least
ON RELIGION. 41
three times in the year, and oftener, as there is occasion, in your parish-church. The laws of the land require this, and the law of your Sa- viour requires it, and the law of duty and gra- titude requires it of you. Prepare yourselves seriously for this service before-hand, and per- form it with reverence and thankfulness. The neglect of this duty procures great inconveni- ence and strangeness: and commonly the neg- lect hereof ariseth from some conceited opinion, that people inconsiderately take up ; but most ordinarily from a sluggishness of mind, and an unwillingness to fit and prepare the mind for it, or to leave some sinful or vain course that men are not willing to leave, and yet condemn themselves in the practice of.
Sixthly. Beware of those that go about to seduce you from that religion, wherein you have been brought up hitherto j namely, the true Protestant Religion. It is not unknown to any, that observes the state of things in the world, how many erroneous religions are scat- tered abroad in the vorldj and how industri- ous, men of false persuasions are, to make proselytes. There are Antinomians, Quakers,
42 LETTER I.
Anabaptists, and divers others, that go about to mislead themselves and others : nay, although the laws of this kingdom, and especially the statute of 23 Eliz. cap. 1. have inflicted the severest penalty upon those that go about to withdraw persons to the Romish religion, from the religion established in England, as any man that reads that statute may findj yet there are scattered up and down the world divers factors and agents, that under several disguises and pretences, endeavour the perverting of weak and easy persons. Take heed of all such persuaders. And that you may know and ob- serve the better, you shall ever find these arti- fices practised by them :
— ^They will use all flattering applications and insinuations to be master of your humour^ and when they have gotten that advantage, they that seemed before to serve you, will then command you.
— They will use all possible skill to raise in you jealousy and dislike, towards those that may otherwise continue and keep you in the truth : as, to raise dislike in you against your minister j nay, rather than fail, to raise dissention among relations j yea, to castjea-
ON RELIGION. 43
lousies and surmises among them, if it may be instrumental to corrupt them.
— They will endeavour to withdraw people from the public ministry of God's word -, en- courage men to slight and neglect it 3 and when they have once eflFected this, they have a fair opportunity to infuse their own corrupt principles.
— They will engage you, by some means or other, to themj either by some real, but most ordinarily by some pretended kindness or familiarity j that, in a little time, you shall not dare to displease them : you must do and speak what they will have you, because some way or other you are entangled with them, or engaged to them -J and then they become your gover- nors, and you will not dare to contradict or disobey them.
These are some of those artifices, whereby crafty and subtle seducers gain proselytes, and bring men under captivity.
Seventhly. Be very careful to moderate your Passions, especially of choler and anger : it inflames the blood, disorders the brain, and for the time, exterminates not only religion.
44 LITTER 1.
but common reason : it puts the mind into con- fusion, and throws wild-fire into the tongue, whereby men give others advantage against them : it renders a man incapable of doing his duty to God, and puts a man upon acts of violence, unrighteousness, and injustice to men j therefore keep your passions under dis- cipline, and under as strict a chain, as you would keep an unruly curst mastiff. Look to it, that you give it not too much line at first 5 but if it hath gotten any fire within you, quench it presently with consideration, and let it not break out into passionate or unruly words or actions : but, whatever you do, let it not gangrene into malice, envy, or spite.
Eighthly. Send your children early to learn their Catechism, that they may take in the true principles of religion betimes, which may grow up with them, and habituate them both to the knowledge and practice of it 5 that they may escape the danger of corruption by error or vice, being antecedently seasoned with better principles.
Ninthly. Receive the blessings of God
ONT RELIGION. 45
with. very much Thankfulness to him j for Hfr is the root and fountain of all the good you do, or can receive.
Tenthly. Bear all afflictions and crosses patiently : it is your duty j for afflictions come not from the dust. The great God of heavea and earth is He, that sends these messengers to you J though, possibly, evil occurrences may be the immediate instruments of them. You owe to Almighty God an infinite subjection and obedience, and to expostulate with Him is rebellion j and as it is your duty, so it is your wisdom and your prudence : impatience will not discharge your yoke j but it will make it gall the worse, and sit the harder.
Eleventhly. Learn not only patience under your afflictions, but also profitably to improve them to your soul's good. Learn by them, how vain and unprofitable things the World, and all the pleasures thereof are, that a sharp or a lingering sickness renders utterly tasteless. Learn how vain and weak a thing Human Na- ture is, which is pulled down to the gates of
46 LETTBR 1.
death, and clothed with rottenness and corrup- tion, by a little disorder in the blood, iff a nerve, in a vein, in an artery. And since we have so little hold of a temporal life, which is shaken and shattered by any small occurrence, accident, or distemper j learn to lay hold of Eternal Life, and of that Covenant of peace and salvation, which Christ hath brought for all, that believe and obey the Gospel of peace and salvation : there shall be no death, no sickness, no pain, no weakness, but a state of unchangeable and everlasting happiness. And if you thus improve Affliction, you are gainers by it 3 and most certain it is, that there is no more probable way, under heaven, to be de- livered from affliction (if the wise God see it fit) than thus to improve it : for affliction is a messenger, and the rod hath a voice 3 and that is, to require mankind to be the more patient, and the more humble, and the more to acknow- ledge Almighty God in all our ways. And if men listen to this voice of the rod, and con- form to it, the rod hath done his errand -, and either will leave a man, or at least give a man, singular comfort, even under the sharpest af-
ON RELIGION. 47
fliction. And this affliction, which is but for a moment, thus improved, will work for us an exceeding and eternal weight of glory.
Twelfthly. Reverence your minister: he is a wise and a good man, and one that loves you, and hath a tender care and respect for you. Do not grieve him, either by neglect or disrespect. Assure yourselves, if thefe be any person who sets any of you against him, or provokes or encourageth any of you to despise or neglect him, that person, whoever he be, loves not you, nor the office he bears. And therefore, as the laws of the land, and the DiYine Providence, hath placed him at Alder- ley, to have a care of your souls j so I must tell you, I do expect you should reverence and ho- nour him, for his own, for your, and for his officfr' sake.
And now I have written this long epistle to you, to perform that office for me that I should have done in person, if I could have taken this journey. The epistle is long 5 but it had been longer, if I had had more time. And though.
48 LETTER I.
perchance, some there may be in the world, that when they hear of it, will interpret it to be but the excursions and morose rules of old Age, unnecessary, and such as might have been spared j yet I am persuaded, it will find better acceptation thereof from you that are my Children. I am now on the shady side of three-score years: I write to you what you have often heard me in substance speak. And possibly when I shall leave this world, you will want such a remembrancer as I have been to you. The words that I now, and at former times have written to you, are words of truth and soberness j and words and advices that proceed from a heart, full of love and affection to you all. If I should see you do amiss in any thing, and should not reprove you, or if I should find you want counsel and direction, and should cuot give it, I should not perform the trust of a Father j and if you should not thankfully receive it, you would be somewhat defective in the duty you owe to God and me, as Children. As I have never spared my purse to supply you, according to my abilities, and the reasonableness of occasions, so 1 have never
ON RELIGION. 49
been wanting to you in good and prudent lounsels : and the God of Heaven give you wisdom^ constancy, and fidelity, in the ob- servance of them.
I am your ever loving father,
MATTHEW HALE.
May 20.
LETTER II.
ON SPEECH.
CHILDREN,
I THANK God I came well to Farrington this Saturday, about five of the clock, and because I have some leisure time at my inn, I could not spend that time more to my own content- ment, and your benefit, than by my letter to give you all good Counsel : the subject where- of, at this time, shall be concerning Speech -, because much of the good or evil, that befalls persons, doth occasionally happen by the well or ill managing of that part of human conver- sation.— I shall, as I have leisure and oppor- tunity, at other times, give you my directions concerning other subjects.
And herein I shall advise you. First, how you are to entertain the Speeches of others^
OK SPEECH. 51
according to the divers varieties thereof. Se- condly, how you are to manage and order your own Speech.
As concerning the former, observe these directions : 1. Observe, and mark as well as you may, what is the temper and disposition of those persons, whose speeches you hear^ whe- ther they be grave, serious, sober, wise, dis- creet persons : if they be such, their speeches commonly are like themselves, and well de- serve your attention and observation j but if they be light, impertinent, vain, passionate persons, their speech is, for the most part, ac- cording 3 and the best advantage, that you will gain by their speech, is but thereby to learn their dispositions, to discern their failings, and to make yourselves the more cautious, both in your conversation with them, and in your own speech and deportment 5 for in the unseemli- ness of their speech, you may better discern and avoid the like in yourselves.
2. If any person, that you do not very well know to be a person of truth, sobriety, and weight, relate strange stories, be not too ready or easy to believe them, nor report them after
d2
52 LETTER II.
him: and yet (unless he be one of your fa- miliar acquaintance) be not too forward to contradict him 3 or, if the necessity of the oc- casion require you to declare your opinion of what is so reported, let it be modestly and gently, not too bluntly or coarsely: by this means, on the one side, you shall avoid being abused by your too much credulity 3 on the other side, you shall avoid quarrels and dis- taste.
3. If any man speak any thing to the dis- advantage or reproach of one that is absent, be not too ready to believe it 3 only observe and remember it : for it may be it is not true 3 or it is not all true 3 or some other circumstances were mingled with it, which might give the business reported, a justification, or at least an allay, an extenuation, or a reasonable excuse. In most actions, if that which is bad alone, or seems to be so, be reported, omitting that which is good, or the circumstances that ac- company it, any action may be easily misrepre- sented : be not too hasty, therefore, to believe a reproach, till you know the truth, and the whole truth.
4. If any person report unto you soine in-
Olf SPEECH. 53
jilry done to you by another, either in words or deeds, do not be over hasty in believing it, nor suddenly angry with the person so accused j for possibly it may be false or mistaken : and how unseemly a thing will it be, when your cre- dulity and passion shall perchance carry you, upon a supposed injury, to do wrong to him that hath done you none 5 or, at least, when the bottom and truth of the accusation is known, you will be ashamed of your passion. Believe not a report, till the party accused be heard j and, if the report be true, yet be not transported either with passion, hasty anger, or revenge, for that will be your own torment and perturbation. Ever, when a person is ac- cused or reported to have injured you, before you give yourself leave to be angry, think with yourself. Why should I be angry, before 1 am certain it is true ? or, if it be true, how can I tell how much I should be angry, till 1 know the whole matter ? Though, it may be, he hath done me wrong, yet possibly it is not so much as it is represented 3 or it was done by mistake 3 or, it may be, he is sorry for it. I will not be angry, till I know there be cause 3 and if there be cause, yet I will not be angry till I know
IMl LETTER II.
the whole cause j for till then (if I must be angry at all), yet I know not how much to be angry : it may be, it is not worth my anger 5 or, if it be, it may be it deserves but a little. — • This will keep your mind and carriage, upon such occasions, in a due temper and order 3 and will disappoint malicious or officious tale- bearers.
5. If a man, whose integrity you do not very well know, makes you great and extraor- dinary professions and promises, give him as kind thanks as may be, but give not much credit to it. Cast about with yourself, what may be the reason of this wonderful kindness : it is twenty to one, but you will find something that he aims at, besides kindness to you : it may be he hath something to beg, or buy of you, or to sell to you j or some such bargain that speaks out at last his own advantage, and not yours j and if he serve his turn upon you, or if he be disappointed, his kindness will grow cool.
6. If a man flatter and commend you to your face, or to one that he thinks will tell you of it, it is a thousand to one either he hath de- ceived, and abused you some way, or means to
ON SPEECH. 55
do so. Remembei: the Fable of the Fox com- mending the singing of the Crow, when she had somewhat in her mouth that the Fox liked.
7. If a person be choleric, passionate, and give you ill language, remember, 1 . Rather to pity him, than to be moved into anger and passion with himj for most certainly, that man is in a distemper and disorder: observe him calmly, and you shall see him in so much perturbation and disturbance, that you will easily believe he is not a pattern to be imitated by youj and therefore return not choler, nor anger, for angry words; for you do but put yourself into a kind of frenzy, be- cause you see him so. 2. Be sure you return not railing, reproaching, or reviling, for re- viling J for it doth but kindle more heat j and you will find silence, or at least very gentle words, the most exquisite revenge of reproaches that can be : for either it will cure the distem- per in the other, and make him see and be sorry for his passion, or it will torment him with more perturbation and disturbance. But, howsoever, it keeps your innocence, gives you
56 LETTER II.
a deserved reputation of wisdom and modera- tion, and keeps up the serenity and composure of your mind : whereas, passion and anger do make a man unfit for any thing, that becomes him as a Man, or as a Christian.
8. Some men are excellent in knowledge of husbandry, some of planting, some of garden- ing, some in the mathematics, some in one kind, some in another. In all your conversa- tion learn, as near as you can, wherein the skill and excellence of any person lies, and put him upon talk of that subject -, and observe it, and keep it in memory or writing: by this means you will glean up the worth and ex- cellence of every person you meet with 5 and, at an easy rate, put together that, which may be for your use upon all occasions.
9. Converse not with a liar or a swearer, or a man of obscene or wanton language j for either he will corrupt you, or at least it will hazard your reputation to be one of the like making : and if it doth neither, yet will fill your memory with such discourses, that will be troublesome to you in after-time 3 and the returns of the remembrance of the passages,
ON SPEECH. 57
which you long since heard of this nature, will haunt you, when your thoughts should be bet- ter employed.
Now, as concerning your own Speech, and how you are to manage it, something may be collected out of what goes before 5 but I shall add some things else.
1. Let your Speech be true. Never speak any thing for a Truth, which you know or believe to be false : it is a great sin against God, that gave you a tongue to speak your mind, and not to speak a lie: it is a great oflFence against Humanity itself j for where there is no truth, there can be no safe society between man and man : and it is an injury to the speaker, for besides the base disreputation it casts upon him, it doth in time bring a man to that baseness of mind, that he can scarce tell how to tell truth, or to avoid lying, even when he hath no colour of necessity for it 5 and in time he comes to such a pass, that as another man cannot be- lieve he tells a truth, so he himself scarce knows when he tells a lie. And observe it, a Lie ever returns, with discovery and shame at the last.
d5
58 LETTER II.
2. As you must be careful not to lie, so you must avoid coming near it. You must not equivocate: you must not speak that abso- lutely, which you have but by hear-say, or re- lation: you must not speak that, as upon knowledge, which you have but by conjecture or opinion only.
3. Let your Words be few ; especially when your betters, or strangers, or men of more experience or understanding, are in place J for you do yourself at once two great mischiefs : — 1 . You betray and discover your own weakness and folly. 2. You rob yourself of that opportunity, which you might other- wise have, to gain knowledge, wisd«m, and experience, by hearing those that you silence by your impertinent talking.
4. Be not over-earnest, loud, or violent in Talking, for it is unseemly j and earnest, and loud talking, make you overshoot and lose your business : when you should be considering and pondering your thoughts, and how to express them significantly and to the purpose ; you are striving to keep your tongue going, and to silence an opponent, not with reason but with noise.
° ON SPEECH. 59
5. Be careful not to interrupt another in his talk. Hear him out : you will understand him the better, and be able to give him the better answer. It may be, if you will give him leave, he will say somewhat more than you have yet heard, or well understood, or that which you did not expect.
6. Always, before you speak, especially where the business is oi moment, consider before-hand ; weigh the sense of your mind which you intend to utter 3 think upon the expressions you intend to use, that they be sig« nificant, pertinent, and inoffensive: and whereas it is the ordinary course of inconsiderate per- sons, to speak their words, and then to think j or not to think till they speak ; think first, and speak after, if it be in any matter of moment or seriousness.
7. Be willing to speak well of the absent, if you do not know they deserve ill ) by this means, you shall make yourself many friends j and sometimes an undeserved commendation is not lost, to the party to whom it is given. I have known some men, that have met with an undeserved commendation, out of shame of being worse than they have been reported.
60 LETTER II.
secretly to take up practices answerable to their commendation, and so to make themselves as good as they are reported.
8. Be sure you give not an ill report to any that you are not sure deserves it. And in most cases, though a man deserves ill, yet you should be sparing to report him so. In some cases, indeed, you are bound in honesty and justice to give that account, concerning the demerit or default of a person, that he de- serves : as, namely, vi^hen you are called to give testimony for the ending of a controversy j or when the concealing of it may harden and encourage a person in an evil way, or bring another into danger. In such cases, the very duty of charity binds you to speak your know- ledge j nay, your probable fear or suspicion of such a person : so it be done for prevention of greater inconvenience, and in love, and especially if the discovery be made to a person that hath a superintendence, care, or authority over the person complained of; for this is an act of love and duty. But for any person maliciously, busily, and with intent to scan- dalize another, to be whispering tales and stories to the prejudice of another, this is a
ON SPEECH. 61
fault. If you know any good of any person, speak it as you have opportunity ; if you know any evil, speak it, if it be really and prudently done for the good of him, and the safety of others 5 otherwise, rather choose to say nothing, than to say any thing reproachfully, maliciously, or officiously to his prejudice.
9. Avoid swearing, in your ordinary com- munication, unless called to it by the magis- trate : and not only the grosser oaths, but the lesser 5 and not only oaths, but imprecations, earnest and deep protestations. As you have the commendable example of good men, to justify a solemn oath before a magistrate, so you have the precept of our Saviour forbid- ding it otherwise.
10. Avoid scoffing, and bitter and biting jeering, and jesting, especially at your friend's condition, credit, deformity, or natural defects of any person j for these leave a deep impres- sion, and are a most apparent injustice : for were you so used, you would take it inwardly and amiss J and many times such an injury costs a man dear, when he little thinks of it.
11. Be very careful that you give no re- proachful, bitter, menacing, or spiteful words
^ LETTEB II.
to any person, nay, not to servants, or other per- sons of an inferior condition 3 and that upon these considerations: — 1. There is not the meanest person, but you may stand in need of him in one kind, or at some time or another : good words make friends, bad words make enemies : it is the best prudence in the world, to make as many friends as honestly you can, especi- ally when it may be done at so easy a rate as a good word 5 and it is the greatest folly that can be, to make an enemy by ill words, which do not at all any good to the party that useth them. 2. Ill words provoke ill words again 3 and commonly such ill words as are gained by such a provocation, especially of an inferior, stick closer, and wound deeper, than such as come unprovoked by ill language, or from an equal. 3. Where faults are committed, they may, and by a superior must, be reproved: but let it be done without reproaches or bit- terness, otherwise it loseth its due end and use; and, instead of reforming the oflfence, exasperates the ofifender, and makes him worse, and gives him the cudgel to strike again J because it discovers your own weak- ness, when you are reprehending another, and
ON SPEECH. 63
lays you justly open to his reproof, and makes your own but scorned and disesteemed. I press this the rather, because, most ordinarily, ill language is the folly of children, and of weak and passionate people.
12. If there be occasion for you to speak in any company, always be careful, if you speak at all, to speak latest j especially if strangers are in company : for, by this means, you will have the advantage of knowing the sense, judgment, temper, and relations of others, which may be a great light and help to you in ordering your speech 3 and you will better know the inclination of the company, and speak with more advantage and accepta- tion, and with more security against giving offence.
13. Be careful that you commend not yourselves: it is the most unuseful and un- grateful thing that can be. You should avoid flattery from others, but especially decline flattering of yourselves : it is a sign your reputation is small and sinking, if your own tongues must be your flatterers or com- menders j and it is a fulsome and unpleasing thing for others to hear it.
$4 LETTER II.
14. Abhor all foul, unclean, and obscene speeches: it is a sign that the heart is corrupt 5 and such kind of speeches will make it worse : it will taint and corrupt yourselves and those that hear it, and brings disreputation to those that use it.
15. Never use any profane speeches; nor make jests of Scripture expressions. When you use the names of God or of Christ, or any passages or words of the Holy Scripture, use them with reverence and seriousness, and not lightly, vainly, or scurrilously j for it is a taking of the name of God in vain.
16. If you hear of any unseemly expres- sions used in religious exercises, you must be careful to forget, and not to publish them 5 or if you at all mention them, let it be with pity and sorrow, not with derision or reproach.
17. Do not upbraid any, or deride any man for a pious, strict, or religious conversation ; for, if he be sincere, you dishonour God and injure him j if he be a hypocrite, yet it is more than you know j or, if you know him to be such, yet his external piety and strictness is not his fault, but his dissimulation and hypocrisy 3 and though his hypocrisy be to be
ON SPEECH. 65
detested, his external piety and religion is to be commended, not derided.
18. Have as little conversation as is pos- sible with obstinate Heretics, or persons ob- stinately perverted in matters of religion ; as Papists, Quakers, Anabaptists, Antinomians, Enthusiasts, and the like : but especially con- verse not with them in matters of religion, for, instead of converting them by your per- suasions to the truth, you shall but harden them the more, and endanger yourself. They are to be dealt withal in these matters, only by persons of great abilities] for a perverted, corrupted mind, and obstinate spirit, carries in it a contagion, as infectious, and much more dangerous, than the plague in the body, where their upiiiions meet with a young and weak opponent.
And thus. Children, as the time and my remembrance would give me leave, I have set down some observations concerning this sub- ject, for your direction and practice : what is wanting, you may abundantly supply by read- ing the wise counsels of Solomon, in his Book
66 LETTER II.
of Proverbs. Read these my directions often, think of them seriously, and practise thena diligently: though they seem but dry and ordinary things, yet you will find them useful in your conversation j which will be every day more evident unto you, as your judgment, un- derstanding, and experience increase.
I have but little more to write at this time, but to wish and command you to remember my former counsels that I have often given you. Begin and end the day with private prayers to God, upon your knees j read the Scriptures, often and seriously j be attentive to the public worship of God, in the church j keep yourselves still in some good em- ployment J for idleness is the devil's oppor- tunity, and the nursery of vain and sinful thoughts, which corrupt the mind, and dis- order the life. Let the Girls take care of such business of my family, as is proper for them } and their recreations may be walking abroad in the fields, in fair or frosty mornings, some work with their needle, reading of his- tory or herbals, setting of flowers or herbs, practising their music, and such innocent
OiJ SPEECH. 67
and harmless exercises. Let the Boys be diligent at their books, and when they have performed their tasks, I do not deny them such recreations as may be healthy, safe, and harmless. Be you all kind and loving one to another, honouring your minister, not bitter or harsh to my servants. Be respectful to all. Bear my absence patiently, cheerfully, and faithfully. Do all things as if I were present among you, and beheld you j for you have a greater Father than I am, that always, and in all places, beholds you, and knows your hearts and thoughts. Study to requite the love, and care and expense of your father for you, with dutifulness, observance, and obedience to him 5 and account it an honour, that God hath given you an oppor- tunity, in my absence, by your care, faithful- ness, and industry, to pay some part of that debt, that, by the laws of nature and gratitude, you owe unto me. Be frugal in my family, but let there be no want : provide conveniently for the poor that come to my door. And I pray God to fill all your hearts with his grace, fear, and love j and to let you see the advan-
68 LETTER II.
tage and comfort of serring himj and that his blessing, and presence, and comfort, and direction, and providence, be with you, and over you all.
1 am your ever loving father,
MATTHEW HALE.
LETTER III.
ON KEEPING THE LORD'S DAY,
CHILDREN,
When I last lodged in this place, in my jour- ney up to London, I sent you from hence divers instructions concerning your Speech ; and how you should manage it 5 and required you to take copies of it, and to direct your practice according to it. I forgot to inquire of you, whether you had taken copies of it, but I hope you have ^ and I do again require you to be care- ful in observing those, and my former directions given to you, some in writing, and many more by word of mouth. I have been careful, that my Example might be a visible direction to you J but if that hath been defective, or not so full and clear a pattern of your imitation, espe-
70 LETTER III.
cially in respect of my different condition from yours, yet I am certain that those Rules and Directions, which I have at several times given you, both in writing, and by word of mouth, have been sound, and wholesome, and season- able 5 and therefore I do expect that you should remember and practise them : and though your young years cannot yet, perchance, see the rea- son and use of them 5 yet assure yourselves, time and experience will make you know the benefit of them. In Advice given to young people, it fares with them, as it doth with young children that are taught to read, or with young school-boys that learn their grammar rules : they learn their letters, and then they learn to spell a syllable, and then they learn to put together several syllables to make up a word 3 or they learn to decline a noun, or to form a verbj and all this while they under- s^^^and not to what end all this trouble is, nor what it means. But when they come to be able to read English, or to make a piece of Latin, or to construe a Latin author, then they find all these rudiments were very necessary, and to good purpose -, for by this means they come to understand what others have written, and to
ON THE lord's DAY. 71
know what they knew and wrote, and thereby improve their own knowledge and understand- ing. Just so it is with young people, ia re- spect of counsel and instruction : when the father, or the minister, or some wise and un- derstanding man, doth sometimes admonish, sometimes chide and reprove, sometimes in- struct, they are apt to wonder why so much ado, and what they mean, and it is trouble- some and tedious, and seems impertinent ; and they are ready to say within themselves, that the time were better spent in riding, or hunt- ing, or merriment, or gaming j but when they come to riper years, then they begin to find that those instructions of the ancient are of ex- cellent use, to manage the conversation, and to direct the actions, and to avoid inconveni- encies, and mischiefs, and miscarriages, to which they are subject without the help of these counsels. And therefore it hath been my practice, to give you line upon line, and pre- cept upon precept, to enable you to steer and order your course of life through an evil and dangerous world j and to require you to be frequent in reading the Scriptures, with due observation and understanding, which will
72 LETTER III.
make you wise for this life^ and that which is to come.
1 am now come well to Farrington^ from whence I wrote to you my former instructions concerning your Words and Speech 3 and I now intend to write something to you of another subject, viz. your Observation of the Lord's-day, commonly called Sunday: and this I do for these reasons. —
1. Because it hath pleased God to cast my lot so, that I am to rest at this place upon that day 3 and the consideration, therefore, of that duty, is proper for me and for you : it is opus diei in die suo, ' the work fit and proper for that day.*
2. Because I have, by long and sound ex- perience, found that the due observance of this day, and of the duties of it, hath been of singular comfort and advantage to me 5 and I doubt not but it will prove so to you. God Almighty is the Lord of our time, and lends it to us J and as it is but just we should conse- crate this part of that time to him, so I have found, by a strict and diligent observation, that a due observation of the duty of this day, hath ever had joined to it a blessing upon the
OM THE lord's DAY. 73
rest of my time ; and the week that hath been so begun, hath been blessed and prosperous to me : and on the other side, when I have been negligent of the duties of this day, the rest of the week hath been unsuccessful, and unhappy to my own secular employments j so that I could easily make an estimate of my successes, in my own secular employments the week following, by the manner of my passing of this day : and this I do not write lightly or inconsiderately, but upon a long and sound observation and experience.
3. Because I find in the world much Loose- ness, and Apostacy from this duty. People begin to be cold and careless in it, allowing themselves sports, and recreations, and secular employments in it without any necessity j which is a sad spectacle, and an ill presage. It concerns me, therefore, (that am your fa- ther) as much as I may, to rescue you from . that sin, which the examples of others, and the inclination and inconsiderateness of youth, are otherwise apt to lead you into.
I shall therefore set down unto you parti- cularly (and not in generals only) these things )
74 LETTBR III.
1. What is the reason and ground of your observation of this day. 2. What things ought not to be done upon this day, which possibly may be lawful upon another day.
3. What things may be done upon this day.
4. What things are either fit or necessary to be done in order to the sanctification of this day.
Touching the first of these, viz. the reason of the observation and sanctification of this day : the reasons are these.—
1. It is a moral Duty, that since the glo- rious God gives me my time, I should con- secrate and set apart some portion of that time, in a special manner, to his service.
2. And because the glorious God best knows, what portion of time is fit to be pe- culiarly dedicated to his service ; that so the morality of that time might be determined unto some, certainly j he hath, by his express precept, given to his ancient people the Jews, limited one Day of seven, to be that special portion of time, which he would have pe- culiarly dedicated to his service j and so to conclude, and [gather] into it the morality of that duty.
ON THE lord's DAY. 75
3. This seventh portion of time, under the old law given to the Jews, was determined by the precept and command of God, in the Fourth Command) and likewise, by his own example, confined to the Seventh day from the Creation, upon which the Lord rested from his works of creation.
4. But our Saviour Christ, who is the Son of God, blessed for ever, and is Lord of the Sabbath*, — fulfilling the word of our redemp- tion by his Resurrection upon the first day of the week, and by his Mission of the Holy Ghost, miraculously, the first day of the week, and by the secret message of the Spirit to the apostles and primitive church, — hath translated the observation of the seventh day of the week, to the First day of the week, which is our Christian Sabbath : that as our Christian baptism succeeds the Sacrament of circumcision, and as our Christian Pascha, the sacrament of the Eucharist, succeeded the Jewish passover, so our Christian Sabbath, the first day of the week, succeeds the Sabbath of the seventh day of the week -, and that mora- lity, which was by Almighty God, under that
* Matt. xii.
79 LETTER III.
covenant, confined to the seventh day, is, by the example of Christ and his apostles, to us Gen- tiles, transferred to the first day of the week j and that which would have been morally a violation of the morality of the Fourth Com- mand, under the Jewish Sabbath, is a viola- tion of the same Fourth Command, if done upon the Christian Sabbath, — though the strictness and severity enjoined to the Jews, be not altogether the same that is now re- quired of Christians. And thus you have the Reason of the obligation, upon us Christians, to observe the first day of the week j because by more than a Human institution, the mora- lity of the Fourth Command is transferred to the First day of the week, being our Christian Sabbath 5 and so the Fourth Commandment is not abrogated, but only the day changed > and the Morality of that Command only translated, not annulled.
Concerning the second. It is certain that what is unlawful to be done upon another day, is much more unlawful upon this j as excess and intemperance, and the like sinful and unlawful actions. But further, there are many things that may be lawfully done on another day.
.«8u.
ON THE lord's DAY. 77
which may not lawfully be done upon this ; and many things that are not only lawful upon another day, but also fit and decent, which are yet unfit to be done upon this day. Upon other days we may, and must employ ourselves, in our secular and ordinary callings 3 we may use bodily exercises and recreations, as bowling, shooting, hunting, and divers other recrea- tions 3 we may study human learning : but I hold these to be not only unfit, but unlawful to be used upon this day 3 and therefore re- member it. Moderate walking may thus far be used, so far only as it enableth you to the more cheerful and lively performance of the duties of this day 3 and therefore I allow you to walk soberly about half an hour after dinner, to digest your meat, that you be not drowsy, nor indisposed in the religious duties of the day. Merry, but harmless talking, or talking about sports or worldly business, may be used another day, but not upon this. Feastings may be sometimes seasonably used upon other days, but are not fit upon this day. Let only such provision be made upon this day, as may be necessary for the feeding of the family and the poor 3 and therefore 1 hold that curiosities, baking of meats, and superfluous provisions
78 LETTER in.
upon this day, are to be avoided, as being an unnecessary breaking of the rest of this day, and unbeseeming the solemnity of it.
Thirdly, What things mhy be done this day, is a question of a great latitude ; because cir- cumstances are many, that do much diversify the actions of men, and many times render them lawful or unlawful, according to those varie- ties of circumstances. Therefore I shall shortly set down those things, that do not of themselves directly tend io the sanctification of this day, that yet may, and sometimes must, be done upon this day : for there were many things that were strictly enjoined to the Jews, in their ob- servation of their Sabbath, which were cere- monial, and concerned only that state, and do not oblige under the Gospel ; as their dressing of meat upon this day was prohibited to them, but not to us : and many more things they did forbear and count unlawful, which in truth were not only not forbidden, but enjoined and commanded j for which our Lord reproves the Pharisees*, who accounted it a breach of the Sabbath to heal the sick, or to pluck the ears
* Matth. xii.
1*^:
ON THE LORD S DAY. /V
of corn for the necessary relief of hunger. Therefore,
1. Works of absolute necessity for man or beasts, may be done upon the Lord's-day. And those 1 call works of necessity, which cannot be done before the day, or after, without ap- parent danger : as, for instance, stopping of the breach of a sea-wall j supporting a house that, upon a sudden tempest or casualty, is ready to fall J pulling out an ox or other beast, fallen into a ditch 3 preventing of a trespass, that by a sudden accident, may be occasioned to my corn or my neighbour's j setting of a broken bone 3 physic to remove an incumbent or im- minent disease, or pain j milking of cows j feeding of cattle 3 the necessary dressing of meat for the family j and many more instances of that kind. But yet therein, great weariness and integrity must be used 3 for otherwise men under pretence of necessity, will take the liberty to do what they please. Therefore take these cautions concerning necessity :
— That is not a necessity, that excuseth a work upon this day, which might have been reasonably foreseen and done before the day : as, for instance, a man hath a necessity to dress
80 LETTER III.
meat for his family, which he might have pro- vided on the Saturday, and neglects it. This necessity will not justify him, in sending two or three miles to buy meat^ upon the Lord's- day.
— That is not a necessity, which may be forborne to be done, without any absolute de- struction or loss of the thing, until the morrow. If a rick of hay be on fire, I may endeavour to quench it on the Lord's-day : but if my corn be cut, and lying upon the ground on the Saturday ; though the weather be rainy, or in- clining to wet, I may not make it into cocks, or fetch it home upon the Lord's-day ) becaufe, possibly. Almighty God may send fair weather to-morrow. And therefore, in my forbearance, I do two duties under one: viz. observe his law, and rest upon his providence. ***Men make necessities, many times, to serve their ease, and sloth, and fancies, when in truth there is none j but the business may be de- ferred without any danger. If we would be more faithful in our obedience to God, we should find many pretended necessities, to vanish into mere imaginations.
2. Works of C/iari^y.— Relief of the poor.
ON THE lord's DAY, 81
administering physic upon an apparent neces- sity, visiting or comforting the afflicted, ad- monishing the disorderly, persuading peace between neighbours offended, and endeavour- ing to compose diflferences which require not much examination, or cannot be deferred with- out an apparent danger of greater mischief, — these are not only permitted, but commend- able, nay commanded upon this day. But if the business require examination, or may be deferred till to-morrow, then it is best to defer such examinations and treaties, between of- fended parties, till another day -, because they will take away too much of the little precious portion of time of this day, and may be as well done to-morrow.
As for the fourth. What is proper, fit, or necessary to be done, in order to the Sanctifica- tion of this day, I will set down particularly : for generals seldom produce any great eiFect ; because every man is apt to construe them, ac- cording to his own mind and liking.
1. I would not have you meddle with any recreations, pastimes, or ordinary work of your calling, from Saturday night, at eight of the
E 5
88 LETTER III.
clocks till Monday morning. For though I am not apt to think that Saturday night is part of the Christian Sabbath, yet it is iBt then to prepare the heart for it.
2. Rise at least three hours before morning sermon j and when you have made yourself fully ready, and washed, and fitted yourself for the solemnity of the day, read two chapters in the Bible; and then go solemnly to your private prayer, and desire of God his grace, to enable you to sanctify his day : and, after your private prayer, read another chapter; and let your reading be with attention, observation, and uncovered on your head.
3. When you are in the public worship and service of God, be uncovered all the while of reading, praying, or preaching; and if the weather be too cold, wear a satin cap.
4. Kneel upon your knees at Prayer ; stand up at the reading of the Psalms, and at the first and second Lessons, and the Epistle and Gt)S- pel, the Hymns and Creeds ; so you shall avoid offence, and give the same honour to every part of the holy Scripture : but stand not up at read- ing of any Apocryphal book, if any happen to be read.
ON THE lord's DAY. 8S
6. Sit at the Sermon, and be very attentive at your prayers, and in your hearing". I com- mend your writing the sermon, especially till you are one or two-and-twenty years old j be- cause young minds are apt to wander: and writing the sermon fixeth them, and maketh them more attentive.
6. When the minister readeth any of the Psalms or Lessons, turn to them in your Bible^ and go along with him : it will fasten your at- tention, and prevent wandering thoughts.
7. Be very attentive and serious at Church : use no laughing nor gazing about, nor whis- pering J unless it be to ask those by you some- thing of the sermon that you slipped in writing.
8. Sing the Singing Psalms, with the rest of the congregation.
9. After sermon, eat moderately at dinner^ rather sparingly than plentifully upon this day; that you may be fit for the afternoon's exercise, without drowsiness or dulness.
10. Walk half an hour after dinner in the garden to digest \our meat ; then go to your chamber and peruse your notes, or recollect what you remember of the sermon, until it be church-time.
84 LETTER III.
11. If you are well, be sure you go to church morning and afternoon, and be there before the minister begin, and stay till he hath ended; and all the while you are at church, carry yourself gravely, soberly, and reverently.
12. After Evening Sermon, go up to your chamber and read a chapter in the Bible : then examine what you have written, or recollect what you have heard. And if the sermon be not repeated in your father's house, but be re- peated in the minister's house, go to the minis- ter's house to the repetition of the sermon.
13. In all your speeches or actions of this day, let there be no lightness nor vanity. Use no running, or leaping, or playing, or wrest- ling : use no jesting, or telling of tales, or foolish stories ; no talk about worldly business j but let your actions and speech be such as the day is, serious and sacred, tending to learn or instruct in the great business of your know- ledge of God, and his will, and your own duty.
J 4. After Supper, and prayers ended in my family, every one of you going to bed, kneel down upon your knees, and desire of God his pardon, for what you have done amiss this day, and his blessing upon what you have heard.
ON THE lord's DAY. 85
and his acceptance of what you have endea- voured in his service.
15. Perform all this cheerfully, and up- rightly, and honestly, and count it not a bur- den to you; for assure yourselves you shall find a blessing from God in so doing. And remember it is your father that tells you so, and that loves you, and will not deceive you j and (which is more than that) remember that the eternal God hath promised, " If thou turn away thy foot from the Sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy day; and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable ; and shalt honour him, not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own plea- sure, nor speaking thine own words : then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord -, and I will cause thee to ride upon the high places of the earth, and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy father : for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it*."
And thus I have written to you of the ob- servation of the Lord's-day 3 wherein, though
* Isaiah, Iviii. 13, 14.
86 LETTER III.
I have omitted many things^ that might have been fit to be inserted, yet you must consider, that I had but a small portion of time allowed me to write, while I lay at an inn, and upon that day wherein I have performed those duties which I now enjoin you. Let the original be laid up safely for your brother R. and every [one] of you take copies of it, that you may thereby remember the Counsels of
YOUR LOVING FATHER.
October the ftOth, 1663.
LETTER IV.
TO ONE OF HIS SONS,
RECOVERING FROM A DANGEROUS SICKNESS
SON
Although, by reason of the contagiousness of your disease, and the many dependents I have upon me, I thought it not convenient to come unto you during your sickness, yet I have not been wanting in my earnest prayers to Almighty God for you, nor in using the best means I could for your Recovery.
It hath pleased God to hear my prayers for you, and above means and hopes now to restore you to a competent degree of health j for which
* The small pox, which seized him when he was a young raao, m the prime of life.
88 LETTER IV.
I return unto him my humble and hearty thanks: and now you are almost ready to come abroad again, therefore I have thought fit to write this little book to you for these reasons.—
1 . Because it is not yet seasonable for you to come to me, in respect of these same rea- sons above-mentioned, which hitherto have restrained my coming to you.
2. Because, at your coming abroad, you will be subject to temptations, by young and inconsiderate company, which, instead of seri- ous thankfulness to God for his mercy to you, might perchance persuade you to a vain and light jollity. And I thought fit to send you these lines, to prevent such inconsiderate im- pressions, and to meet you just at your coming abroad, to season you with more wise and serious principles.
3. Because you are even now come out of a great and sore visitation, and therefore in all probability, in the fittest temper, to receive the impressions of a serious epistle from your Father.
And I have chosen to put it into this little volume, because it is somewhat too long for a
ON SICKNESS. 89
letter, and may be better preserved for your future use and memory.
God Almighty hath brought you to the very gates of death, and showed you the terror and danger of it : and after that he had shov^^n you this spectacle of your own mortality, he hath marvellously rescued and delivered you from that danger, and given you life, even from the dead -, so that you are as a man new born into the world, or returned to life again, which now you seem, as it were, to begin. You have passed through those two great dis- pensations of the Divine Providence, those two great experiments, that God is pleased some- times to use towards the children of men : namely, correction and deliverance, his rod and his staff. And therefore, in all reasonable con- jecture, this is the most seasonable time to give you a lecture upon both, and those admoni- tions which, may be, render the one and the other profitable unto you. And this I shall en- deavour to do in these following lines.
You shall not need to fear that I intend to upbraid you with the errors of your youth, or to expostulate with you touching them 5 for I
90 LETTER IV.
do assure you I do from my heart forgive you all your follies and miscarriages. And I do assure myself that you have repented of them^ and resolved against them for the time to come j and that thereupon, God Almighty hath also fully forgiven what is past : and this is a great assurance thereof to me, in that he hath so wonderfully restored you, and given you, as it were, a new life, wherein you may obey and serve him better than ever you yet did. And therefore, if in this letter there be any touches concerning former vanities, assure yourself they are not angry repetitions, but only neces- sary cautions for your future ordering of your life.
The business of these papers is principally to commend unto you two general remem- brances, and certain results and collections that arise from them : they are all seasonable for your present condition, and will be of sin- gular use and benefit to you in the whole en- suing course of your life.
First. I would have you, as long as you live, remember your late sickness in all its cir- cumstances, and these plain and profitable in- ferences and advices that arise from It.
ON SICKNESS. 91
Secondly. I would have you remember, as long as you live, your great deliverance, and the several circumstances of it, and those ne- cessary duties that are incumbent upon you in relation thereunto.
It is evident to daily experience, that while afflictions are upon us, and while deliverances are fresh, they commonly have some good effect upon us ; but as the iron is no sooner out of the fire, but it quickly returns to its old cold- ness and hardness, so when the affliction or de- liverance is past, we usually forget them, count them common things, attribute them to means and second causes : and so the good that man- kind should gather from them vanishes, and men grow quickly to be but what they were before they came j their sick-bed promises are forgot, when the sickness is over.
And therefore I shall give you an account of your sickness and of your recovery } and let them never be forgotten by you. As often as those spots and marks in your face are reflect- ed to your view from the glass 5 as often as this paper comes in your sight j nay, as often as you open your eyes from sleep, which were once closed, and likely never to open again j —
92 LETTER IV.
SO often, and more often, remenaber your sick- ness and your recovery, and the admonitions that this paper lends you frona the considera- tion of both.
Pirst. Therefore, touching your late sick- ness, I would have you remember these par- ticulars.— 1. The disease itself, in its own nature, is now become ordinarily very mortal, especially to those of your age Look upon even the last year's general bill of mortality j you will find near two thousand, dead of that disease the last year 5 and had not God been very merciful to you, you might have been one of that number, with as great likelihood as any of them that died of that disease. 2. It was a contagious disease, that secluded the ac- cess of your nearest relations. 3. Your sick- ness surprised you upon a sudden, when you seemed to be in your full strength. 4. Your sickness rendered you noisome to yourself, and all that were about you ; and a spectacle full of deformity, by the excess of your disease beyond most that are sick thereof. 5. It was a fierce and violent sickness : it did not only take away the common supplies of nature^ as
ON SICKNESS. 93
digestion, sleep, strength, but it took away your memory, your understanding, and the very sense of your own condition, or of what might be conducible to your good. All that you could do, was only to make your condition more desperate, in case they that were about you had not prevented it, and taken more care for you than you did or could for yourself. 6. Your sickness was desperate, insomuch that your symptoms, and the violence of your distemper, were without example j and you were in the very next degree to absolute rotten- ness, putrefaction, and death itself.
Look upon the foregoing description, and remember that such was your condition. You were as sad a picture of mortality and corrup- tion, as any thing but death itself could make : remember it 3 and remember also these en- suing instructions, that may make that remem- brance profitable and useful to you. —
1. Remember, that '' afiliction cometh not forth of the dust, nor doth trouble spring out of the ground* 3" but this terrible visitation was sent to you from the wise over-ruling
♦Job, T. 6.
ON SICKNESS. 95
is amiss, to be more watchful, circumspect, and obedient to him in the future course of our lives, to fear to offend him. And if a man hear this voice, God hath his end of mercy and goodness, and man hath the fruit, benefit, and advantage of his affliction, and commonly a comfortable issue of it. Read often and at- tentively the 33d chapter of Job, from the beginning to the end.
III. Remember how uncertain and frail a creature man is, even in his seeming strongest age and constitution of health j even then, a pestilential air, some evil humour in his blood, some obstruction, it may be, of a little vein or artery, a little meat ill digested, and a thousand small occurrences may, upon a sudden, with- out any considerable warning, plunge a man into a desperate and mortal sickness, and bring a man to the grave. Remember this terrible sickness seized upon you suddenly, pulled down your strength quickly, and brought you to the very brink of the grave. And though * God hath recovered you, you know not how soon you may be brought into the like con- dition.
IV. Remember, therefore, that you make
96 LETTER IV.
and keep your peace with God, and walk in his fear in the days of health, especially after so great a deliverance, and that for very many reasons. — 1. You know not whether you may not be overtaken with sudden death, and then it will be impossible for you to begin that work. 2. If you have sickness to give you warning of the approach of death, yet you know not whether that sickness may not sud- denly take away your senses, memory, or un- derstanding J whereby you may be disabled to make your peace with God, or to exercise any serious thoughts concerning it. 3. But if that sickness give you fair warning, and take not away your understanding, yet your own ex- perience cannot choose but let you know that pain, and weakness, and distraction of mind, and impatience, and unquietness, are the com- mon attendants of a sick-bed, and render that season at least very difficult then to begin that greatest, and solemnest, and most important business of a man's life.. 4 But if your sick- ness be not so sharp, but that it leaves you patience and attention of mind for that great business, how do you know whether your heart shall be inclined to it ? Repentance and
mm
ON SICKNESS. .97'
conversion to God is his gift, though it must be our endeavour. And though the merciful God never refuseth a repenting returning of- fender ; yet how can a man that all the time of his health hath neglected Almighty God, refused his invitations, and served his lusts and his sin, expect reasonably that God, in the time of sickness, when the man can serve his sins no longer, will give him the grace of re- pentance }
— Whatever you do, therefore, be sure you make your peace with God, and keep it in the days of your health, especially after so great a deliverance from so desperate a sickness.
V. Remember that your condition is never so low, but that God hath power to deliver you, and therefore trust in him j but remem- ber withal, that your condition is never so safe and secure, but you are within the reach of his power to bring you down. You are now, by the mercy of God, recovered from a terrible sickness, think not with yourself that your turn is now served, and that you shall have no more need of him, and therefore that you may live as you list, and never regard your duty to him 3 deceive not yourself herein 3 remember^
98 LEfTER IV.
that this sickness, within two or three days, brought you upon your knees, even from a seeming state of health. The case is the same still, nay much worse, if this affliction make you not better. Almighty God called you to love, and serve, and obey him, by the still voice of his word, by the persuasion of your friends, by the advices and reproofs of your father ; and, when these were not so effectual (as I know you now wish they had been), he sent a messenger that spake louder, that would be heard, even this terrible sickness j and most certainly, if you have heard the voice of this rod (as I am hopeful you have), and thereupon entirely turn to your duty to God in all sin- cerity and obedience, it is the happiest provi- dence that ever befel you j and you will, upon sound conviction, conclude with the Prophet, " It was good for me that I was afflicted." But, on the other side, if, notwithstanding this voice of the rod, you shall, after your re- covery, turn again to folly, and vanity, and excess, and harden yourself against this mes- senger, know for certain, you are within the reach of the Divine Justice and Power : " And if you walk contrary to him, he will walk
ON SICKNESS. 99
contrary to you, and punish you yet seven times for your sins*." I therefore give you that counsel, that our Lord gave to him that he had healed : ''Behold thou art made whole, go thy way and sin no more, lest a worse thing befal thee." There is no contesting with Al- mighty God : he is ready and easy to be recon- ciled to the worst of men, upon humiliation and true repentance j but he is not to be mastered or conquered by obstinacy and oppo- sition : ''Who hath hardened himself against him and prospered f?'*
VI. I would have you remember, that sick- ness, as well as death, doth undeceive man- kind, and shows them where their true wisdom lies. When a young man, especially, is in the full career of his vanity and pleasures, he thinks that religion and the fear of God, and walking according to his Word, and the serious practice of duties of religion towards God, prayer unto him, making our peace with him, are pitiful, low, foolish, and inconsiderable matters 3 and that those that practise them are a sort of brain-sick, melancholy, unintelligent
* Levit. xxvi. ^4. t Job,- ix. 4.
100
LBTTER IV.
persons, that want wit or breeding, and under- stand not themselves or the world ; that they are mere empty fancies and imaginations, whimsies, Puritanism, and I know not what else: but, on the other side, they think they are the brave men that live splendidly, deny themselves no pleasure, can drink, and roar, and whore, and debauch, and wear the newest fashions. It may be, this gallant or wise man comes to be taken with a fit of sickness, that tells him he must die, death is at the door, his glass is almost out, and but a few stands left in it; and then the man becomes quite of another judgment : he cries out of his former foolish- ness 'f he finds his pleasures, and intemperance, and excess, are not only perfect follies, but madness, vexation, torment ; and religion and prayer to God, and devotion and peace with God, they are now in request j and now no- thing but declamations against those courses, which in his health he valued as the only wisdom; and nothing but promises of amend- ment, and reformation of life and devotion to God : so sickness hath undeceived the man, and given him a true and rectified judgment concerning wisdom and folly, quite contrary
ONT SICKNESS. 101
to what he had before. Therefore I would have you to recoUec't ycais^ilf;, and (ii'ihe" vio- lence of your disease lift' you at any time the use of your reason}* , iJetMi'ik'yoJl rst^If; W^l^at opinion you then liad of intemperance, wasting of time, unlawful lust, or any of those sins that formerly pleased you in your health -, whe- ther they did not appear to you in your sickness very vain, foolish, vexing things, such as you wished never to have been committed ; and, on the other side, what opinion you had in your sickness touching piety towards God, hearing of his Word, calling upon his Name, redeem- ing of time, modesty, temperance : whether those actions of your life past, that savoured of these, were not comfortable and contenting to you in your sickness 5 whether your purposes and promises, and resolutions of your sick-bed, were not full of such thoughts as these, — If it please God to recover me, I will never be such a fool as I liave been j I will never drink to excess, mispend my time ; I will never keep such evil company as I have done j I will be more devout towards God, more obedient to his Word, more observant of good counsel, and the like. And, if you find it to be so, I
102 LETTER IV.
mast desire you to remember, that affliction is the schi)t»l of wisdom -^ \t vectifies men's judg- ments ; and I must again desire you to keep your jndgoient- rig.ht fitUh and let not the re- covery of your health become the loss of your wits J but in your health retain that wisdom your sickness taught you, and practise what you then promised : '' Remember he is the wisest man, that provides for his latter end*." VII. Remember, by your former sickness, how pitiful and inconsiderable a thing the body of man is j how soon is the strength of it turned to faintness and weakness, the beauty of it to ugliness and deformity, the consistency of it to putrefaction and rottenness j and then remember, how foolish a thing it is to be proud of such a carcase j to spend all, or the greatest part of our time in trimming and adorning it^ in studying new fashions, and new postures, and new devices to set it out j in spending our time and provisions in pampering it ; in pleasing the appetite : and yet this is the chief business of most young men of this age. Learn, therefore, humility and lowli-
*Deut,xxxii. 29.
ON SICKNESS. 103
ness : learn to furnish thy noble and immortal part, thy soul, with religion, grace, know- ledge, virtue, goodness ^ for that will retain it to eternity. How miserable is that man's condition, that whilst sickness hath made his body a deformed, weak, loathsome thing, sin hath made his soul as ugly and deformed. The grave will heal or cover the deformity of the former j but the soul will carry its ulcers and deformity (without repentance) into the next world. Learn and remember, therefore, to have thy greatest care for thy noblest part : furnish it with piety, grace, knowledge, the fear and love of God, faith in Christ. And as for thy body, use it decently, soberly, and comely, that it may be a fit instrument for thy soul to use in this life -, but be not proud of it, nor make it thy chiefest care and business to adorn, much less defile it.
VII J. Remember to avoid intemperance and sinful lusts. It is true, sickness and diseases, and finally death, are, by the laws and constitutions of our nature, incident to all mankind j but intemperance, excess of eating and drinking, drunkenness, whoring, unclean- ness, and disorder, bring more diseases, es-
104 LETTER IV.
pecially upon young men, and destroy more young, strong, healthy raen, than the plague, or other natural or accidental distempers : they weaken the brain, corrupt the blood, decay and distemper the spirit, disorder and putrefy the humours, and make the body a very bag full of putrefaction. Some diseases are, as it were, specifical, and appropriate to these vices : other diseases are commonly oc- casioned by them, by their inflammation and putrefaction of the blood and humours. And all diseases, even those that are epidemical, natural, or casual, yet are rendered by those vices far more sharp, lasting, malignant, and incurable, by that stock of corrupted matter they lodge in the body to feed those diseases, and that impotency that these vices bring upon nature to resist them. Therefore, if you ever expect to have as well a sound body as a sound mind, carefully avoid intemperance and de- bauchery. The most temperate and sober persons are subject to sickness, weakness, and diseases J but the intemperate can never be long without them.
And thus I have done with the prospect of your disease; and at least many of these
ON SICKNESS. 105
profitable uses you may gather from the remembrance of it.
I shall now, in the second place, put you in remembrance of your deliverance, touching which you must remember. — 1. That it was a great, eminent, and extraordinary deliver- ance : you need no other evidence of it, than by looking back upon the greatness and severity of your disease before-mentioned. 2. It was a deliverance by the immediate power and mercy of that God that sent you the visitation.
Una eademque manus, vulnus opemque tulit.*
If you had been delivered by the im- mediate efficacy of means, yet you are blind if you see not that the efficacy of means depends upon the providence of God : it is he that provides it, and that makes means effectual. But in this deliverance, God hath pleased to hedge up, as it were, your way from attribut- ing it to means 5 and hath given you an in- dication that it was done by his own immediate power, and that he delivered you above and
* The hand that gave the wound, administered the cure.
f5
106 I.ETTEB IV.
beyond means. It is true, you had a very able and careful physician, and very great attendance and care was used about you. But when your physician, and all that were about you, began to despair of your recovery ; when means proved ineffectual j when the strength of nature was exhausted and baffled by your disease 3 God Almighty, upon a sudden and beyond expectation, relieved you, and, as it were, by his own hand brought you back from the very threshold of the grave. And this he did, that you and all about you, and all your relations, might take notice of it, that it was he that did it.
And thus Almighty God hath exercised towards you two great experiments, the first of his severity, the second of his mercy. And as your sickness and rod had its voice (a loud and sharp voice), so your recovery and deliver- ance hath its voice also 3 a sweet, gentle, and (I hope) effectual voice ; and I will, as shortly as I can, tell you what it is. —
I . Remember this benefit : remember it was reached out unto you, from the mere power, goodness, and mercy of God. Re- member evermore in your heart and soul to be thankful to him for it. Remember, as long as
ON SICKNESS. 107
you live, upon all occasions to acknowledge it: daily to return upon your knees humble thanks for it, to him that had regard to you, and remembered you in your low estate ; to him that forgave your iniquities, and healed your disease j to him that did this for you, when all means failed 5 that did it for you, when you had not the understanding to call upon him for it J to him that did it for you that deserved it notj for you that had provoked him, and neglected him too much in the time of your health. This God it was that thus delivered you. Read often the 103d Psalm attentively, and apply it to your own condition : it will do you good.
II. Remember to acknowledge this good- ness of God with all humility. Your deliver- ance was not the purchase of your own power, nor of your own desert : it was an act of the free and undeserved goodness of God. What Almighty God said by Moses unto the Israel- ites*, I shall say to you with some variation: Understand, therefore, that the Lord thy God hath not given thee this deliverance for thy
• Deut. ix. 4, 6.
108 LETTER IV.
righteousness 3 no, it is the mere effect of his own goodness, and to give you opportunity to praise him, and serve him, better than ever you did before.
III. Remember that although great deliver- ances require your great acknowledgments, yet there is somewhat more required ; namely, a real practical glorifying of God, by ordering your conversation aright, by serving him, pleading him, obeying him, living to his ho- nour. This Almighty God expects, as well as praises and acknowledgments. As the end of God, in aflflictions, is to make men better, so the end of God in deliverances is to make men better j and if we are not the better men by both dispensations, we do, as much as in us lies, disappoint Almighty God in his design, and disappoint ourselves of the benefit and advantage intended in both, and easily to be gained by both. This, therefore, is the voice of this deliverance : it calls sweetly, and gently indeed, but earnestly and effectually for amendment of lifej and that upon two great and moving arguments. — 1. Your re- covery and great deliverance calls for this from you^ upon the account of common in-
ON SICKNESS. 109
genuity and good nature, which obligeth a man to be observant and dutiful to his bene- factor. God Almighty is the greatest bene- factor, and hath manifested himself such to you, upon a visible and eminent account : this is engagement enough, upon the account of common humanity, to be dutiful and obedi- ent to him. When, therefore, you are at any time, by the temptation of your own corrup- tion, or by the solicitation of evil persons, solicited to evil actions, consider thus with yourself: Is this a becoming return to that God that hath thus wonderfully delivered me ? Is this the requital that I shall make to him for his mercy ? Shall I please a vain lust, or a vain companion, and displease the great God of heaven and earth, that hath thus delivered me, and done me more good than all the world could ever do me, or than I can ever recom* pense ? ' Do ye thus requite the Lord, O ye foolish people, and unwise ? Is not he thy Father that hath bought thee ? hath he" not made thee, and established thee*?'
IV. This mercy calls for your obedience to
* Deut. xxxii. 6.
HO LETTER IV.
God, in an eminent manner, upon the account of common prudence and discretion. The benefit of your obedience to him will be your own, your own happiness in this life, and in that to come. There is no greater moral se- curity against future dangers and troubles, than obedience and reformation of life, upon great deliverances received 3 nor is there any greater invitation of new troubles and mis- chiefs, than ingratitude, disobedience, and great sins, after great mercies and deliverances. There is a kind of certain and infallible con- nection between great sins, (after great mercies received,) and great judgments to follow } Ingentia beneficia, ingentia peccata, ingentia supplicia*. Again, as 1 have for- merly told you, you do not know how soon you may stand in need of the same mercy and goodness of God, which you have formerly found : you are never out of the reach of his power, and the necessity of his help. What- ever you do, therefore, never disoblige him by whom you live, and whose extraordinary mercy you may stand in need of, you know
* Great benefits — great sins—- great punishments.
ON SICKNESS. Ill
not how soon. There is nothing in the world doth more provoke God than neglect, forget- fulness, or wilful disobedience after signal mercies. These provoke the merciful God to a severity of the highest kind, because the sweet- est and most obliging call of mercy and de- liverance is neglected. Read the first chapter of the Proverbs attentively.
And the merciful God hath given us a plain rule and method how he may be served, obeyed, and pleased : he hath given us a plain discovery of his will in the Scriptures of both Testaments. Read that often : you have it by you, and you need not go far to find what is your Maker's will, and what that obedience is that he requires, as the return of this and all other his mercies. Yet I think it not amiss to mind you of some particulars, that may be useful for you upon this occasion, and to di- rect you how particularly to improve it, and so order your future life in some measure an- swerable to it. —
1. I would have you make it your first business, after your perfect recovery, to con- sider the course of your life past, since you
112 LETTER IV.
came to the age of discretion, and see what hath been amiss in it : whether you have not neglected religion, and the duties of it too much J as prayer, hearing the word preached, observing the Lord's-day, receiving the Sacra- ment : whether you have not been guilty of intemperance, excess of drinking, wantonness, uncleanness, idleness, raispending your time, and those supplies which have been allowed you for your maintenance : whether you have not too much delighted in vain, and sinful, and disorderly company, vanity and expense in apparel. And if any such, or the like faults have been, repent of them, be sorry for them, resolve against them ; and let the future course of your life be amended in relation thereunto. I have before told you that your heavenly Fa- ther hath forgiven you, and I have forgiven you ; neither do I mention these things to up- braid you for them, but that you, upon the consideration of what hath been amiss, may be thereby the better enabled to rectify and set in order your future life. If this be done and practised, I will reckon your late sickness and distemper one of the greatest blessings that ever befel you.
ON SICKNESS. 113
2. I would have you always keep a habit of the fear of God upon your heart. Consider his presence^ order your life as in his presence : consider that he always sees you, beholds, and takes notice of you, and especially whether you carry yourself answerable to this great deliver^ ance. It is one of those talents for which he will expect an account from you.
3. I would have you frequently and thank- fully consider of the great love of God in Jesus Christ, whom he hath given to be the instruc- tor and governor, and sacrifice for the sins of you and all mankind, through whom, upon repentance, you have assurance of the remis- sion of your sins, and eternal life 5 and fre- quently considerj how great an engagement this is upon you, and all mankind, to live ac- cording to such a hope and such a mercy.
4. I would have you, every morning, read a portion of the Holy Scriptures, till you have read the Bible from the beginning to the end. Observe it well, read it reverently and attentively, set your heart upon it, and lay it up in your memory, and make it the direction of your life: it will make you a wise and a
114 LBTTBR IV.
good man. I have been acquainted somewhat with men and books, and have had long ex- perience in learning, and in the world : there is no book like the Bible for excellent learning, wisdom, and use 3 and it is want of understand- ing in them that think or speak otherwise.
5. Every morning and every evening, upon your knees, with all reverence and attention of mind, return hearty thanks to God for his mercy to you, and particularly for this deliver- ance : desire his grace to enable you to walk in some measure answerable to it ; beg his providence to protect you, his grace to direct you, to keep you from evil actions, and evil persons, and evil occurrences j beg his pardon for your sin, and the continuance of his favour, always concluding with the Lord's Prayer.
6. Observe conscionably the Lord's-day, to keep it holy. Avoid idle company, idle dis- course, recreations, and secular employments upon that day. Resort twice that day to the public prayers and sermon : come early to it, be attentive at it, keep your eyes and mind from roving after vain thoughts or objects 5 and spend the rest of that day, that is free from
ON SICKNESS.
115
necessary occasions, in reading the Scriptures, or some good books of divinity.
7. Once every term at least, come pre- paredly and reverently to the Holy Commu- nion j receive it with great reverence and thankfulness, and due consideration of the end of its institution. Renevjr your covenant with Almighty God that you made in baptism, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly before him ; and beg his grace and strength to perform it.
And as those directions before do more specially relate to Almighty God, and your de- portment immediately towards him, so these that follow more especially relate to yourself and others, and your moral conversation: therefore, —
8. Be very moderate in eating and drink- ing. Drunkenness is the great vice of the time 5 and by drunkenness I do mean, not only gross drunkenness, but also tippling, drinking excessively, and immoderately, or more than is convenient or necessary: avoid those companies that are given to it 5 come not into those places that are devoted to that beastly vice,^ namely, taverns and ale-houses -,
116 LETTER lY*
avoid and refuse those devices that are used to occasion it, as drinking and pledging of healths 5 be resolute against it, and when your resolution is once known, you will never be solicited to it. The Rechabites were com- manded by their father not to drink wine ) and they obeyed it, and had a blessing for it. My command to you is not so strict j I allow you the moderate use of wine and strong drink at your meals ; I only forbid you the excess, or unnecessary use of it, and those places and companies, and artifices, that are temptations to it.
9. Avoid wanton and lascivious actions, speeches, and company. Read Proverbs, ii. ^j 6, 7, 9. A whore hunts for the precious life of a man 5 and that vice brings a ruin with it to the body, soul, and estate. If you cannot conveniently contain yourself in a single life, and be of competent health, marry j but with the advice and counsel of your father, while he lives.
10. Be frugal of your time (it is one of the best jewels we have), and to that end avoid idleness : it consumes your time, and lays you open to worse inconveniences. Let your re-
ON SICKNESS. 117
creations be healthy, and creditable, and mode- rate, without too much expense of time or money. Go not to stage-plays, they are a most profuse wasting of time. Value time by that estimate we would have of it, when we want it : what would not a sick man give for those portions of time of health, that he had formerly improvidently wasted.
11. Be diligent in your study and callings it is an act of duty to Almighty God that re- quires it, and it will be your wisdom and bene- fit : it will be a good expense of time, a pre- Tcntion from a thousand inconveniencies and temptations that otherwise will befal a man : it will furnish you with knowledge and under- standing, give you the advantage and means of a comfortable and plentiful subsistence, and make you a support, comfort, and benefit to your friends and country.
12. Be frugal in your expenses : live within the compass of that exhibition that God's pro- vidence, and your father's abilities, shall sup- ply you withal: it is enough to maintain an honest provident man, and ten times more will not be enough for a profuse mind. A frugal man will live comfortably and plentifully upon
118 LETTER IV.
a little ; and a profuse man will live beggarly, necessitously, and in continual want, whatever his supplies be.
13. In all your expenses consider before- hand,— Can I not be well enough without this that I am about to buy ? Is there an absolute necessity of it ? Can I not forbear till I am in a better condition to compass it ? If I buy or borrow, can I pay ? and when ? and am I sure? Will this expense hold out ? How shall I bring about the next quarter, or the next year? — If young men would but have the patience to consider and ask themselves questions of the like nature, it would make them considerate in their expenses, and provident for the future j and these considerations will, in a special man- ner, concern you in respect of your father's great expenses for you, which, though I have forgiven and forgotten, I would have you re- member with gratitude and caution.
14. The vanity of young men in loving fine clothes and new fashions, and valuing themselves by them, is one of the most childish pieces of folly that can be, and the occasion of great profuseness and undoing of young men. Avoid curiosity and too much expensiveness in
ON SICKNESS. 119
your apparel: let your apparel be comely, plain, decent, cleanly, not curious or costly : it is the sign of a weak head-piece to be sick for every new fashion, or to think himself the better in it, or the worse without it.
15. Be careful what company you consort with J and much more careful what persons you grow intimate with. Choose sober, wise, learned, honest, religious company : you will gain learning and wisdom, and improve your- self in virtue and goodness, by conversing with them. But avoid debauched, foolish, intem- perate, prodigal, atheistical, profane company, as you would avoid a plague : they will cor- rupt and undo you ; they are a sort of the most pitiful fools in the world; and familiar ac- quaintance and conversation with theqci will endanger to make you like them.
16. Weigh and consider your words, be- fore you speak them 3 and do not talk at ran- dom, or at a venture. Let your words be few, and to the purpose. Be more ready to hear others, than to speak yourself. Accustom yourself to speak leisurely and deliberately : it will be a means to make you speak warily and considerately.
120 LETTER IV.
17. Be very careful to speak truth j and beware of lying. As lying is displeasing to God, so it is offensive to man j and always at the latter end returns to the reproach or disad- vantage of him that useth it : it is an evidence of a weak and unmanly mind. Be careful that you believe not hastily strange news, and strange stories ; and be much more careful that you do not report them, though at the second hand j for if it prove an untruth (as commonly strange stories prove so), it brings an im- putation of levity upon him that reports it, and possibly some disadvantage to others.
18. Take heed what you promise : see that it be just, and honest, and lawful, and what is in your power honestly and certainly to per- form; and when you have so promised, be true to your word. It is for the most part the fashion of inconsiderate and young men, (es- pecially that run in debt) they will with great asseverations promise precise payment, at this or that day, when either they certainly know they cannot perform, or at least have no pro- bable assurance that they can do it j and when their turn is served, they are as backward in performance, as they were before liberal in
ON SICKNESS. 121
their promises. Breach of promises and lying are much of a nature, and commonly go to- gether, and are arguments of an impotent and unmanly mind.
19. Beware of gaming. It is the sudden- est consumption of an estate that can be 3 and that vice seldom goes alone: commonly de- bauchery of all kinds accompanies it. Besides, it makes a man of a wild, vast, and unsettled mind 3 and such men are impatient of an honest calling, or of moderate or honest gain.
20. Run not into debt* either for wares sold, or money borrowed : be content to want things that are not of absolute necessity, ra- ther than to run upon the score : such a man pays at the latter end a third part more than the principal comes to, and is in perpetual ser- vitude to his creditors 5 lives uncomfortably 5 is necessitated to increase his debts to stop his creditors' mouths j and many times falls into desperate courses.
21. Be respectful to all, familiar and inti- mate with few : be grateful to your benefac- tors, especially to those who, under God, were instrumental for your good, in your late sick-
182 LETTER IV.
negs, and return your thanks to them j to your father that spared no cost for your recovery j to your doctor, that was exceedingly diligent about you j to those that attended you in your sickness 5 to those that, together with your father, often prayed to God for your recovery, and for a blessing upon this aflBiction, — whose names you shall in due time particularly know j but, above all, to Almighty God, who not only provided and blessed the means, but saved and delivered you above means, and when means failed.
22. Lastly, I "^hall conclude with one advice more, without the observance whereof my la- bour in writing this long epistle will be pro- bably fruitless : be not wise in your own con- ceit. This is the unhappy error, and many times the ruin of young men especially : they are usually rash, giddy, and inconsiderate, and yet extremely confident of that which they have least reason to trust, namely, their own under- standing, which renders them most reserved from them that are willing and best able to advise them, impatient of reproof, love to be flattered, and so become incapable of good and wise counsel, till their follies have reduced
ON SICKNESS. t^
them to extreme straits and inconveniencies. Suspect therefore your own judgment : advise often with your father, especially in all things of moment : be glad of his counsel, and be contented and willing to follow it, and to guide your life according to it 3 at least till ripeness of age, observation, and experience, have enabled you better to advise yourself. This is an easy, and ready and cheap way of attaining wisdom, and avoiding of infinite in- conveniencies.
And thus I have, in this long epistle, given you the means how you may improve both your sickness, and recovery, to the glory of God, and your own benefit.
I shall therefore conclude with two con- siderations, that may the more engage you to this use of both these dispensations.
I. The danger is great, if afflictions make not a man more humble and dutiful : and the danger is yet greater, if great deliverances and mercies do not make a man more thankful and obedient to God 3 because it is the most oblig- ing method that the gracious God can use to- wards the children of men, for that end, in this
g2
24 LETTER IV.
life ; and the neglect of that invitation adds in- gratitude and contempt to the neglect of it.
II. The benefit that you will receive by making a good use of these two dispensations^ in improving your dutifulness and obedience to God, will be singular and excellent. I. It will make you a wise man, by making you a good and religious man. Believe it from your father, who will not deceive you j nay, believe it from a greater than your father, the very Spirit of Truth, who cannot deceive you : — the true fear of God, is the only true wisdom. Read Deut. iv. 6. Job, xxviii. 28. Psalm, cxi. 10. Prov. i. 7. Prov. ix. 10. Eccles. xii. 13 j and very many more declarations there are of this great truth. — 2. It will make you a happy man : it will give you the favour and love of God, which is better than life itself. You shall have his mercy to pardon you, his provi- dence to protect you, his wisdom to direct you, his goodness to bless you, and to forgive and forget whatsoever hath heretofore been done amiss by you : this will make all conditions comfortable to you, whether life or death, sick- ness or health. By this means you may be a comfort to your father, a support to your bro-
ON SICKNESS.
125
there and sisters, an instrument of good to your country, and attain an honest, creditable, and competent subsistence in this world, and an everlasting inheritance of glory and immor- tality in the world to come. Thus 1 have given you a large letter of sound and good counsel : set your heart to it, and observe and remember it. We see how unstable our lives are ! You nor I know how soon either or both of us may leave this world : it may be, this may be the last paper of advice that your father may give you. But however it shall please God to deal with you or me, touching our continuance in this world, yet let me leave this with you, in the close of this letter : — If I shall find that these directions are dutifully ob- served, I shall be ready from time to time, freely to advise and direct you -, and as I have passed by your former extravagancies, so I shall thereby have great assurance that God hath blessed this visitation to you : but, on the other side, if I shall find that you neglect my counsels, that you make light of them, that you still pursue those courses that will cer- tainly be bitterness in the end, I must then tell you, I shall pray for you, and be sorry for you
126 LETTER IV.
with my heart ; but I shall not easily be per- suaded to give any more advice or counsels, where I find them despised or neglected. In this paper there are many things omitted, which might have been inserted ; but the con- stant reading of the Holy Scriptures Avill supply unto you that defect : I have chosen only in this paper to mention such things which are seasonable for you upon this occasion. God Almighty hath not been wanting to you in ad- monition, correction, mercy and deliverance 5 neither hath your father been wanting to you in education, counsel, care and expense : I pray God Almighty bless all unto you. This is the prayer of
Your loving Father,
MATTHEW HALE.
THE GREAT AUDIT
WITH THE
ACCOUNT OF THE GOOD STEWARD.
The great Lord of the world hath placed the children of men in this earth as his Stewards 3 and according to the parable in Matthew xxv, he delivers to every person his Talents, a stock of advantages or opportunities. To some he commits more 3 to some, less 3 to all, some.
This stock is committed to every person under a Trust, or charge, to employ the same in ways, and to ends, and in proportion, suit- able to the talents thus committed to them, and to the measure and quality of them.
The Ends of this deputing of the children of men to this kind of employment of their talents are divers : 1. That they may be kept in continual action and motion, suitable to
138 THE GKBAT AUDIT.
the condition of reasonable creatures, as al- most every thing else in the world is continued in motion suitable to its own nature, which is the subject of the wise man's discourse : '' All things are full of labour.*" 2. That in that regular motion they may attain ends of advantage to themselves ; for all things are so ordered by the most wise God, that every being hath its own proportionable perfection and happiness, inseparably annexed to that way and work which his providence hath destined it unto. 3. That in that due and regular employment, each man might be in some measure serviceable and advantageous to another. 4. That although the great Lord of this family can receive no advantage by the service of his creature, because he is perfect and all-sufBcient in himself 5 yet he receives glory and praise by it, and a complacency in beholding a conformity in the creature, to his own most perfect will.
To the due execution of this trust commit- ted to the children of men, and for their encouragement in it, he hath ?innexed a Re-
• Ecdes. i. 8.
THE GREAT AUDIT. 129
ward by his promise, and the free appointment of his own good pleasure. This reward there- fore is not meritoriously due to the employment of the talent j for as the talent is the Lord's, so is the strength and ability whereby it is employed } but by his own good pleasure and free promise the reward is knit to the work. In this case therefore, the reward is not de- mandable, so much upon the account of the divine justice, as upon the account of the divine truth and fidehty. On the other side, to the mal-administration of this trust, there is annexed a retribution of Punishment j and this most naturally and meritoriously : for the law of common justice and reason doth most justly subject the creature, that depends in his being upon his Creator, to the law and will of the Creator; and therefore, having received a talent from his Lord, and together with his being, an ability to employ it according to the will of his Lord, a non-employment or mis- employment thereof, doth most justly oblige him to guilt and punishment, as the natural and just consequent of his demerit.
Of the Persons that do receive these talents, some do employ them well, though in various
G 5
130 TH» GBEAT AUDIT.
degrees J some to more advantage, some to less : and although the best husbands come short of what they should do, and at best are in this respect unprofitable servants, yet if there be a faithful, conscientious, and sincere endeavour to employ that talent to their master's honour, they are accounted good Stewards j and the merits of Christ supply by faith that wherein they come short.
On the other side, some persons are un- faithful Stewards of their talents -, and these are of three kinds: 1. Such as wholly mis- employ their talents, turning them to the dis- honour and disservice of their Lord, which they should have employed to his service; and these have a double account to make, viz. of their Talents, and of their Mis-employment. 2. Such as do not at all employ their talent ; but as they do no harm, so they do no good with it : these are negligent Servants, and have the single, but full account of their Ta- lents to make. 3. Such as do make some use of their Talents, but do not produce an increase proportionable to their stock : and so, though they are not debtors for their whole Talents, yet are in arrear and grown behind-hand ; and
THB pREAT AUIilT. 131
SO Upon the foot of their account are found debtors to their Lord j which^ without faith in Christ, and his merits coming in to make up the sum, will be enough to cast them in prison, and there keep them to eternity.
And according to these varieties of degrees, of good or bad administration, are the degrees of Reward or Punishment. He that hath ad- ministered his trust well, so that there is a great access of his improvement, hath a great- er access of glory j and he that hath less sur- plusage upon his account, shall have the less degree of glory : and on the other side, he that hath many talents, and made no improvement, his debt and punishment shall be the greater ; he that hath fewer talents, his non- improve- ment leaves him a debtor in a less sum, and consequently subject to a less punishment.
The great Day of Account will be the great Day of Judgment, when the Lord of the fami- lies of the whole earth will call every man to his account of his stewardship here on earth : wherein we may with reverence, and for the better fastening it upon our affections, suppose the Lord thus to be speaking to all, and every particular person in the world.
132 THE GREAT AUDIT.
THE CHARGE
" Come, ye children of men, as I have for- merly made you stewards of my blessings upon earth, and committed to every one of you, that come to the use of your understanding, several talents to employ and improve to the honour and service of me your Lord and Master, so now I come to call you to render an account of your stewardship; and because you shall see the particular charge of your several receipts, whereunto you may give your answers, behold here is a schedule of the particulars with which I will charge you. Give in your particular answer how you have employed and improved them, and see you do it truly; for know, I have a control and check upon you : a control within you, your own consciences; and a con- trol without you, my book of remembrance, wherein all your receipts, disbursements, and employments are registered.
'' First, I have given unto you all your Sen- ses ; and principally those two great senses of discipline, your Sight, and your Hearing.
" Item. I have given unto you all. Under- standing and Reason, to be a guide of your
THE GREAT AUDIT. 133
actions j and to some of you, more eminent degrees thereof.
'* Item. I have given you all Memory, a treasury of things past, heard, and observed.
'' Item. I have given you a Conscience to direct you, and to check you in your miscarri- ages, and to encourage you in well-doing j and I have furnished that conscience of yours with light, and principles of truth and practice, conformable to my will.
" Item. I have laid open, to all your view, the Works of my Power and Providence, the heavens and the earth, the conspicuous admi- nistration of my wisdom and power in them.
" Item. I have delivered over to your view, my more special Providences over the children of men, — the dispensation of rewards and punishments, according to eminent deserts or demerits.
*' Item. I have given you the advantage of Speech, whereby to communicate your minds one to another, and to instruct and ad- vantage one another by the help thereof.
'' Item. I have given you Time of IJfe in this worid ; to some longer, to some shorter, to all a time of life, a season wherein you
134 THE GREAT AUDIT.
might exercise those other talents I have in- trusted you withal.
" Item. I have delivered over unto you the rule and Dominion over my Creatures, allow- ing you the use of them for your food, raiment, and other conveniencies.
" Item. Besides these common talents I have intrusted you withal, I have delivered over to you, and to you, &c. divers special and eminent Talents above others, viz. of the Mind, or such as concern you as intellectual creatures.
1. " Great Learning and Knowledge in the works of nature. Arts and Sciences, great Prudence and Wisdom in the conduct of af- fairs, [Elocution,] excellent Education.
2. "Of the Body: A firm and healthy con- stitution. Strength, Beauty, and Comeliness.
3. " Of externals : Great affluence of Wealth and Riches j eminence of Place, and Power, and Honour 5 great Reputation and Elsteem in the world ; great Success in enter- prises and undertakings, public and private 5 relations economical.
4. *' Of things of a mixt nature : Christian and liberal Education ; counsel and advice of
THE GREAT AUDIT. 13$
faithful and judicious Friends > good Laws in the place and country where you live 3 the written Word of God acquainting you with my will, and the way to eternal life j the Word preached by able and powerful Ministers there- of 5 the Sacraments, both for your imitation and confirmation -, special and powerful mo- tions and impulses of my Spirit upon your consciences, dissuading from sin, and encou- raging in and to holiness } special Providences, abstracting and diverting you from the com- mission of things contrary to my will, dis- honourable to my name, and hurtful to your- selves j Chastisement and Corrections, emi- nently and plainly inflicted for sin committed by yourselves and others, so that the guilt was legible in the punishment j eminent Blessings upon the ways of holiness and virtue, even to the view of the world 5 eminent Restitution and Deliverances, upon repentance and amendment of life } most clear and sensible Experiences of my love, favour, and listening to your prayers, to encourage you to a dependence upon me 5 singular Opportunities put into your hands, of instructing the ignorant, delivering the op- pressed, promoting my honour.
]36 THE ACCOUNT OF
" These are some of the many talents which I have committed to you, though in diflfering degrees : Give up your accounts, you children of men, how you have emyloyed them."
THE ACCOUNT OF
THE GOOD STEWARD.
Lord, before I enter into account with thy Majesty, I must confess, that if thou shouldst enter into judgment with me, and demand that account which in justice thou mayest require of me, I should be found thy debtor. 1 con- fess I have not improved my talents according to that measure of ability that thou hast lent me. I therefore most humbly offer unto thee the redundant merit of thy own Son, to supply my defects, and to make good what is wanting in my account j yet according to thy command, I do humbly render my discharge of the trust thou- hast committed to me, as followeth :
I.
IN GENERAL.
As to all the Blessings and Talents where- with thou hast intrusted me : —
THfc GOOD STEWARD. 137
1 have looked up to Thee with a thankful heart, as the only author and giver of them.
1 have looked upon myself as unworthy of them.
I have looked upon them as committed to my trust and stewardship, to manage them for the ends that they were givenj— the honour of my Lord and Master.
I have therefore been watchful and sober in the use and exercise of them, lest I should be unfaithful in them.
If I have at any time, through weakness or inadvertence, or temptation, mis-employed any of them, I have been restless, till I have in some measure rectified my miscarriage by re- pentance and amendment.
II.
IN PARTICULAR.
Concerning my Senses, and the use of them : —
."' I have made a covenant with mine Eyes, that they should not rove after vanity, or for- bidden objects : I have employed them in be- holding thy works of wonder and wisdom.
I have busied them in reading those books
138 THB ACCOUNT OP
and writings, that may instruct me in the great concernments of eternal life.
I have stopt my Ears against sinful and unprofitable discourse, and against slandering, and lying, and flattering tongues.
I have exercised them in listening to those things that might increase my faith, knowledge and piety.
I have kept them open to the cry of the poor and oppressed, to relieve them. The rest of the employments of these and my other Senses, have been for my necessary preser\a- tion, and the honest exercise of an honest calling and conversation.
III.
AS TO THE REASON AND UNDERSTANDING THOU HAST GIVEN ME.
I have been careful to govern my senses and sensual appetite by my reason, and to govern my reason by thy word.
I have endeavoured to use and employ it, but not lean or depend upon it : I make it my assistant, but not my idoL
I have been careful to wind up my reason and understanding to the highest key in the
j^'M^-'
THE GOOP STEWARD. 139
searching out of truths, but especially those that are of the greatest concernment in matter* of faith. I have made my understanding to be laborious and industrious, but still kept under yoke and rule of thy word, lest it should grow extravagant and petulant.
I have looked upon my understanding and reason, as a ray of thy Divine light 5 and there- fore I have used it for Thee 5 and have counted it a most high sacrilege, ingratitude, and re- bellion, to employ it against thee, thy honour, or service.
I have endeavoured principally to furnish it with that knowledge, which will be of use in the other world. This hath been my business ; other studies, or acquests of other knowledge, have been either for the necessary use of this life, or harmless divertisements or recreations. In the exercise of my reason, as on the one side I have avoided idleness, supineness, or neglect, so on the other side I have not employed it in vain, curious, unprofitable, forbidden, in- quiries. I have studied to use it with sobriety, moderation, humility, and thankfulness. And as I have been careful to employ it, so I have been as careful not to mis-employ it : I looked
140 THE ACCOUNT OF
upon it as thy talent, and therefore gave unto thee the glory, the use and service of it.
IV.
AS TO THE MEMORY THOU HAST LENT ME.
On the contemplation of that strange and wonderful faculty, that distinctly, and not- withstanding the intervention of thousands of objects, retains their images and representa- tions, with all their circumstances and conse- quents, I have admired the wonderful wisdom, power, and perfection of the Lord.
I have endeavoured principally to treasure up in it those things that may be most of use for the life to come, and most conducible to the attaining of itj thy mercies, commands, directions, promises j my own vows, reso- lutions, experiences, failings j to keep me constant in my duty, dependant upon thy good- ness, humble and penitent.
Some things I have studied to forget 3 in- juries, vain and hurtful discourses, and such things, as either would make me the worse by remembering them, or take up too much room in my memory, which might be em- ployed and stored with better furniture.
THE GOOD STEWARD. 141
The rest of the employment of my memory hath been, to assist me in the ordinary and ne- cessary conversation with others, the ways of my calling, the performing of my promises and undertakings, the preservation of good and lawful learning, that thereby I might do service to Thy name, serve my generation, and improve myself in knowledge, wisdom and un- derstanding.
AS TOUCHING MY CONSCIENCE, AND THE LIGHT THOU HAST GIVEN ME IN IT.
It hath been my care to improve that natu- ral light, and to furnish it with the best prin- ciples I could. Before I had the knowledge of thy Word, I got as much furniture as I could from the writings of the best moralists, And the examples of the best men : after I had the light of thy Word, I furnished it with those most pure and unerring principles that I found in it.
I have been very diligent to keep my con- science clean J to encourage it in the vice- gerency that thou hast given it over my soul and actings : I have kept it in the throne.
142 THB ACCOUNT OF
and greatest reverence and authority, in my heart.
In actions to be done or omitted, I have always advised veith it, and taken its advice: I have neither stifled, nor forced, nor bribed it ; but gave it a free liberty to advise and speak out, and a free subjection of my will, purposes, and actions to it.
If, through inadvertency of mind, or im- portunity of temptations, or precipitancy of occasion, or necessity of the times, I have at any time done amiss, I have not taken her up short, of stopped her mouth, or my own at- tention to her chiding and reproof ; but I have, with much submission of mind, borne her chas- tisement, and improved it to an humbling of myself before thee for my failings ; fori look- ed upon her as acting by thy authority, for thy service, and to thy glory 3 and 1 durst not dis- courage, discountenance, or disobey her.
When she was pleased, and gave me good words, I was glad j for I esteemed her as a glass, that represented to my soul the favour or displeasure of God himself, and how he stood affected towards me.
I have more trembled under the fear of a
rat GOOD STEWARD. 143
leared or discouraged conscience, than under the fear of a sharp or scrupulous conscience} because I always counted the latter, though more troublesome, yet more safe.
I have been very jealous, either of wound- ing, or grieving, or discouraging, or deading my conscience. I have therefore chosen ra- ther to forbear that which seemed but indiflFer- cnt, lest there should be somewhat in it that might be unlawful } and would rather gratify my conscience, with being too scrupulous, than displease, disquiet, or flat it by being too ven- turous : I have still chosen rather to forbear what might be probably lawful, than to do that which might be possibly unlawful} be- cause I could not err in the former, 1 might in the latter. If things were disputable whether they might be done, I rather chose to forbear, because the lawfulness of my forbearance was unquestionable.
As I have been careful to advise impartially with my conscience, before my actions, so lest either through inadvertence, precipitancy, in- cogitancy, or sudden emergencies, I had com- mitted any thing amiss, either in the nature or manner of the action, I commonly, every
144 THE ACCOUNT Of
night, brought my actions of the day past, before the judicatory of my conscience, and left her to a free and impartial censure of them j and what she sentenced well done, 1 with hu- mility returned the praise thereof to Thy name : what she sentenced done amiss, 1 did humbly sue unto thee for pardon, and for grace to pre- vent me from the like miscarriages. By this means I kept my conscience active, renewed and preserved my peace with thee, and learned vigilance and caution for the time to come.
VI.
AS TOUCHING THY GREAT WORKS OF CREATION AND PROVIDENCE.
1 have not looked upon thy works inconsi- derately and commonly, and passed them over as common and ordinary things, as men usually do upon things of common and ordinary oc- currence ^ but I have searched into them as things of great eminence and wonder, and have esteemed it a great part of my duty, that the wise God of nature requires of the children ef men, who therefore exposed these his great works to our view, and gave us eyes to behold, and reason in some measure to observe and
TEIE GOOD STEWARD.- 145
understand them : and therefore I have strictly observed the frame of the world, the motion, order, and Divine economy of them. I have searched into their qualities, causes, and opera- tions; and have discovered as great, if not greater, matter of admiration therein, than in the external beauty and prospect, that at the first view they presented to my sense.
And this disquisition, and observation, did not rest only in the bare perusal of the works themselves, or their immediate natural causes, upon which they depended 5 but I traced their being, dependance, and government unto thee, the First Cause ; and by this prosecution and tracing of things to their original, I was led up to a most demonstrative conviction. That there is a God that is the first cause of their being, and motion. And in the contemplation of the admirable vastness of the works mine eyes be- hold, their singular beauty and order, the ad- mirable usefulness, convenience, and adapta- tion of one thing to another, the constancy, regularity, and order of the motion of the heavens and heavenly bodies, the mutual sub- serviency of one thing to another, the order and useful position of the elements, the fertility
146 THE ACCOUNT OF
of the earth, the variety of beauty and use- fulness of the creatures, their admirable in- stincts, the wonderful fabric of the body of man, the admirableness and usefulness of his faculties animal, and the singular adaptation of the organs to those faculties, the strong powers of the reasonable soul, — in the con- templation of these, and such as these varie- ties, I did, to the everlasting silencing of the atheism that my own corruptions were apt to nourish, conclude. That there is hut one God, that he is most powerful, most wise, knowing all things, governing all things, supporting all things. Upon these convictions, I was strengthened in the belief of thy Holy Word, which had so great a congruity with these truths, that the strict and due contemplation of thy creatures did so demonstratively evince.
And upon these convictions, I did learn the more to honour, reverence, and admire Thee, and to worship, serve, and obey Thee, to de- pend and rest upon Thee, to walk humbly and sincerely, and awfully before Thee, as being present with me, and beholding me ; to love and adore Thee as the fountain of all being and good. When I looked upon the glory and
THE GOOD STEWARD. 147
usefulness of the sun, I admired the God that made it, chalked out its motions for it, placed it in that due distance from the earth, for its use and conveniency. When I looked upon the stars, those huge and wonderful balls of light, placed in that immense distance from the inferior bodies, and one from another, their multitude and motion, I admired the wisdom and power of that God, whose hand spans the Heavens, and hath fixed every thing in its place. Nay, when I looked upon the poor little herbs that arise out of the earth, the lowest of vegetables j and considered the secret spark of life that is in it, that attracts, increas- eth, groweth, seminateth, preserves itself, and its kinds j the various virtues that are in them for the food, medicine, and delight of more perfect creatures j my mind was carried up to the admiration, and adoration, and praise of that God, whose wisdom, power, and influence, and government is seen in these little small footsteps of his goodness : so that take all the wisest, ablest, most powerful, and know- ing men under heaven, they cannot equal that power and wisdom of thine, that is seen in a blade of grass ; nor so much as trace out, or
h2
148 THE ACCOUNT OF
clearly or distinctly decypher, the great varie- ties in the production, growth, and process of its short, yet wonderful continuance j inso- much that there is scarce any thing that we converse withal, but yielded me inscriptions of the power and wisdom of their Maker written upon them.
In the contemplation of thy great works of the Heavens, those goodly, beautiful, and nu- merous bodies, so full of glory and light, I ever reflected upon myself with David's medi- tation, *' Lord, what is man that thou art mind- ful of him, or the son of man, that thou re- gardest him !" It is true, man in himself considered, is a creature full of wonder, but compared wit^i these goodly creatures, he is but an inconsiderable thing. I learnt by thy creatures to be humble, and adore thy con- descension, that art pleased from Heaven, the dwelling-place of thy Majesty and Glory, to take care of such a worm as man, sinful man.
In the contemplation of thy Power and Wisdom in creating and governing the world, I have learned submission to thy will) as being the will of the same most wise God,
THE GOOD STEWARD. 149
that by his wisdom hath created and governs all things ; and therefore his will, a naost wise, perfect will. I have learned to depend upon thy Providence; who, though 1 am but a worm, in comparison with thy heavenly works, yet am an excellent and eminent creature, in comparison of the ravens and the grass of the fields 3 yet those he feeds, and these he clothes, and shall he not much more clothe and feed me ? Thus I have in some measure improved the talents of thy works, thereby to find and trace out thy majesty, thy power, wisdom, and greatness, and my own duty.
VII.
TOUCHING THY MORE SPECIAL PROVIDENCES TOWARD THE CHILDREN OF MEN.
As by the works of nature, 1 have learned what thou art, and something of my duty thereupon to thee; so by thy providence to- wards the children of men, I have in some measure learned the same, and a farther lesson : viz. What thy Will is ; for thou hast not left thyself without a witness thereof to a mere na- tural man, observing thy providence towards the children of men. — I have observed some
150 THE ACCOUNT OF
men of eminent justice and uprightness of life, purity and sanctimony, temperance and so- briety, mercy and gentleness, patience and forbearance, bounty and liberality j and I have observed them to be very happy men, and blessed in what was most desired by them. It may be they were rich and great j but if they were not, it was because riches and greatness was not the thing they most valued : perchance it might have been a burden to them to be such. But I have always observed them to be happy in what they most desired and valued : they had serenity and quietness of mind. If they were not rich, yet they were visibly happy in their contentedness ; and if they were not great, yet they were apparently honourable in the esteem and value of others : nay, if they were under external losses, crosses, reproaches, yet in the midst thereof, it was most apparent to all men they enjoyed that which they more valued, a most composed, cheerful, patient, contented soul. And this hath been apparently as visible to all spectators, as if they had en- joyed a full confluence of external happiness 3 and very many times, unless upon eminent and visible reasons, before the end of their days.
THB GOOD STEWARD. 151
they had signal returns of eternal enjoyments. 1 have observed men of notorious and wicked lives, traitors, murderers, oppressors, adul- terers, covenant-breakers, and other villanies, secured by eminent power, policy, or secrecy j yet by wonderful providence that power bro- ken, that policy disappointed, that secrecy dis- covered, and eminent judgments, answerable to their eminent demerits, have overtaken them. I have seen and observed both in my- self and others, our sins and oflfences so suit- ably, and proportionably answered with punish- ments, that though they seem to be produced' by strange and most casual conjectures, yet so exactly conformable to the nature, quality, and degree of the oflFence, that they carried in them the very effigies of the sins, and made it legible in the punishment, sic ille manus, sic ora gere- bat. And from these observations I found that those sins were displeasing to thee 3 that thou wert most wise to discover, and most just and powerful to punish them j and did thereupon conclude. Verily there is a reward for the righ' teous i verily he is a God that judgeth in the earth.
152 THE ACCOUNT OF
VIII.
CONCERNING MY SPEECH.
I have always been careful that I offend not with my tongue. My words have been few, unless necessity or thy honour required itiore speech than ordinary. My words have been true, representing things as they were j and sincere, bearing conformity to my heart and mind. My words have been seasonable, suitable to the occasion, and seasoned with grace and usefulness.
I have esteemed my words, though tran- sient and passing away, yet treasured up in thy remembrance j for by my words I shall be jus- tified, by my words condemned : and therefore I have reflected often upon my words 3 and when I have found any thing, through inad- vertency or passion, hath passed from me, I have endeavoured to reform it, and humbled myself before thee for it.
I have esteemed it the most natural and excellent use of my tongue, to set forth thy glory, goodness, power, wisdom, and truth; to instruct others as I had opportunity in the
THE GOOD STEWARD. 153
knowledge of thee, in their duty to thee, to themselves, and others j to reprove vice and sin 3 to encourage virtue and good living j to convince errors, to maintain the truth j to call upon thy name, and by vocal prayers to sanctify my tongue, and to fix my thoughts to the duty about which I was ; to persuade to peace, and charity, and good works : and in these employ- ments I endeavoured to wind up my tongue to the highest degree of elocution that I was ca- pable of.
I have often contemplated thy wonderful wisdom and goodness to the children of men, in giving them not only reason and under- standing, but that admirable faculty of speech, whereby one man might communicate his mind, and thoughts, and wants, and desires, and counsels, and assistance, to others 5 the great engine of upholding of mutual society 5 and without which our reason and understand- ing were imprisoned within ourselves, and confusion would ensue, as once it did at the confusion of tongues, by the most wise provi- dence for most excellent ends.
In sum, I have looked upon this, amongst the many other conveniencies I enjoy, as a
H 5
154 THB ACCOUNT OF
treasure committed to my trust for my Master's use. I have accordingly employed it conscion- ably, seemly, and humbly, as thy gift, not my own acquest.
IX.
TOUCHING MY TIME OP LIFE.
First, I have duly considered what it is, and for what end thou gavest it me : that it is but a short time, and the minutes that are passed^ and the opportunities in them, are irrevocably and irrecoverably lost 5 that all the wealth of the world cannot redeem it 3 that the time that is before me, is uncertain. When I look upon an hour-glass, or the shadow of a dial, I can guess that here is half an hour, or a quarter, or more, or less to come j but I cannot guess what proportion of time remains in the hour-glass of my life : only I know it is short j but I know not how short it is, whether a year, or a week, or a day, or an hour j and yet upon this little uncertain portion of time, and the due use of it, depends my everlasting happiness or misery. It is my seed-time, and if I sow not my seed here, it is too late to think of that husbandry after death 5 and if I sow, and sow not good
THE GOOD STEWARD. 155
seed, my crop will be thereafter, in that other world, that immediately expects upon the issue of this 3 and I have a thousand diversions that rob me of much of this little portion of time, and yield me no account in order to my great concernment. When I cast out, from the ac- count of my time, the unprofitableness of my childhood and youth, the hours spent in sleep- ing, eating, drinking, recreations, travels, and other things that carry no sin in them, there remains but a small portion of a short life for concernments of everlasting importance; a great business to be done, great difficulties and impediments in the doing of it, and but a little portion of time, of a short and uncertain life, to do it in. And yet this life of mine was by Thee given, not to be trifled and squandered away, either in sin or idleness; not to gain riches, honour, or reputation ; for when sick- ness comes, these will appear insipid and vain things J and when death comes, they will be merely useless : but it was for a higher end, viz. a time to trade for the most valuable jewel of eternal happiness ; a time to sow such seed as might yield a crop of blessedness in the next world J a time to secure a title to an everlasting
156 THE ACCOUNT OF
inheritance j such a time, as if once lost, the opportunity is lost for ever 5 lost irrecover- ably; for the night cometh wherein no man can work j " For there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave whi- ther thou goest*."
And upon this consideration of the great end of my life, the great importance of the business that is to be done in it, the brevity and great uncertainty of this life, and the utter impossibility after death to redeem the neglect of the proper and important business of my life, I have endeavoured to husband this short, uncertain, important talent as well as I can.
1. By a careful avoiding of sinful Employ- ments, which at once do waste this precious talent, and contract a farther debt upon me : it renders me in arrears for the time mispent, and the guilt contracted.
2. By avoiding Idleness, burning out my candle to no purpose.
3. By avoiding unnecessary consumption of Time, by long feastings, excessive sleep, impertinent visits, seeing of interludes, unne*
* Eccles. ix. 10.
THE GOOD STEWARD. 157
cessary recreations^ curious and impertinent studies and enquiries, that, when attained, serve to no purpose.
4. By applying, directing and ordering even my studies of human Learning, histories, na- tural or moral philosophy, mathematics, lan- guages, laws, to an end beyond themselves : viz. thereby to enable me to understand, and observe thy excellent wisdom and power; to maintain and uphold thy cause against athe- ism, idolatry, and errors ; to fit me for serving of thee and my country, in the station wherein I live.
5. By exercising myself in the very business of my Calling, as an act of duty and obedience to thee 3 acting in it those virtues of Christi- anity that might be honourable to thy name, and a good example to others, of improvement of grace unto myself; using in it diligence without anxiety, dependence upon thee with- out presumption, contentedness, patience, thankfulness, honesty, justice, uprightness, plain-dealing, liberality : and by this means translating my secular employment into an exercise of Christian duty ; serving thee while I served myself j and converting that very em- ployment and the time spent therein, to the
15S THE ACCOUNt OF
use, honour, and advantage of my Lord- and Master, the good example of others, and the increase of my spiritual advantage, as well as my temporal.
6. By religiously observing those times that have been set apart to religious duties^ especially the Lord's Dayj not mingling with it secular thoughts or employments 5 but with much attention, strictness and care, laying hold upon those times and opportunities, and care- fully applying them singly to the proper busi- ness or the times.
7. By dedicating and setting apart some portion of my time to Prayer, and reading of thy Word, which I have constantly and peremp- torily observed, whatever occasions interposed, or importunity persuaded to the contrary.
8. By making the magnum oportet, the great and one thing necessary, the choice and principal Business of my Life, and the great design of it 3 and esteeming that time spent most naturally, profitably, and suitably, that was spent in order to it ; observing thy great works of wisdom and power j contemplating upon thy goodness and excellency j hearing and reading thy wordj calling upon thy Name J crucifying my corruptions 3 exercising
THE GOOD STEWARD. 159
thy graces ) humbling myself for my sins j re- turning thanks for thy mercies ; studying the mystery of God manifest in the flesh j striving to bring myself conformable to my Pattern, and to have him formed in my heart, and his life in mine ; crucifying myself to the world, and the world to me j fitting myself for death, judgment, and eternity. These, and the like employments, I esteemed the flower, the glory, the best of my spent time, because they will be carried over with advantage into the life to come ; and therefore this I reckoned my busi- ness, and accordingly I made it. Other mat- ters, that only served for the meridian of this life, I used either barely for necessity of my present subsistence, or as a divertisement, and sparingly, or in order to those great ends. Those were the business, these only the joa- rerga * of my life.
X.
TOUCHING THY CREATURES, AND THE USE OP THEM, AND THE DOMINION OVER THEM.
I have esteemed them as thine in propriety. Thou hast committed unto me the use, and a
• Recreations.
160 THE ACCOUNT OF
subordinate dominion over them; yet 1 ever esteemed myself an accomptant to Thee for them J and therefore I have received them with thankfulness unto Thee, the great Lord both of them and me. When the earth yielded me a good crop of corn or other fruits, when flocks increased, when my honest labours brought me in a plentiful or convenient supply, I look- ed up to thee as the giver, — to thy providence and blessings, as the original of all my in- crease. I did not sacrifice to my own net, or industry, or prudence j but I received all, as the gracious and bountiful returns of thy libe- ral hand. I looked upon every grain of corn that I sowed, as buried and lost, unless thy power quickened and revived it. I esteemed the best production would have been but stalk and straw, unless thou hadst increased it. I esteemed my own hand and industry but im- potent, unless thou hadst blessed it ; for it is thy blessing that maketh rich, and it is thou that givest power to get wealth*.
2. I esteemed it my duty to make a return of this my acknowledgment, by giving the
* ProY. X. 22. Deut viii. 18.
THE GOOD STEWARD. 161
tribute of my increase, in the maintenance of thy ministers, and the relief of the poor : and I esteemed the practice enjoined to thy ancient people, of giving the tenth of their increase, a sufficient, not only warrant, but instruction to me under the gospel, to do the like.
3. I have not only looked upon thy bles- sings and bounty, in lending me thine own creatures for my use j but I have sought unto Thee for a blessing upon them, in my use of them. I did very well observe, that there is by my sin a curse in the very creatures that I re- ceive, unless thy blessing fetch it out 5 an emptiness in them, unless thy goodness fill them: though thou shouldst give me quails and manna from heaven, yet without thy blessing upon them, they would become rot- tenness and putrefaction to me. And therefore I ever begged thy blessing upon thy blessings, as well as the blessings themselves 5 and at- tributed the good I found, or was to expect in them, to the same hand that gave them.
4. I received and used thy creatures, as committed to me under a trust, and as a stew- ard and accomptant for themj and therefore, I was always careful to use them according to
1<?2 THE ACCOUNT OF
those limits, and in order for those ends, for which thou didst commit them to me. — 1. With temperance and moderation. I did not use thy creatures to luxury and excess, to make provision for my lusts, with vain glory or os- tentation} but for the convenient support of the exigencies of my nature and condition: and if at any time thy goodness did indulge me an use of them for delight, as well as ne- cessity, I did it but rarely and watchfully. I looked not upon the wine, when it gave its colour in the cup j nor gave myself over, either to excess or curiosity in meats and drinks : I checked myself therein, as being in thy pre- sence; and still remembered I had thy crea- tures under an accompt; and was ever careful to avoid excess or intemperance, because every excessive cup or meal was in danger to leave me somewhat in super* and arrear to my Lord. — 5. With mercy and compassion to the creatures themselves, which thou hast put under my power and disposal. When I con- sidered the admirable powers of life and sense, which I saw in the birds and beasts; and that
'Excess.
THB GOOD STEWARD. 163
all the men in the world could not give the like being to any thing, nor restore that life and sense which is once taken from them; when I considered how innocently and harm- lessly the fowls and the fish, and the sheep and oxen take their food, that thou the Lord of all hast given them; I have been apt to think, that surely thou didst intend a more innocent kind of food to man, than such as must be taken with such detriment to those living parts of thy creation: and although thy wonderful goodness hath so much indulged to mankind, as to give up the lives of these creatures for the food of man, by thy express commission, yet I still do, and ever did think that there was a justice due from man, even to these sen- sible creatures, that he should take them spar- ingly, for necessity, and not for delight; or if for delight, yet not for luxury. I have been apt to think, that if there were any more libe- ral use of creatures for delight and variety, it should be of fruits, or such other delicacies as might be had without the loss of life; but however it be, this very consideration hath made me very sparing and careful, not vainly.
164 THE ACCOUNT OF
or superfluously, or unnecessarily, or prodigally to take away the life of thy creatures for feast- ing and excess. And the very same considera- tion hath always gone along with me, in reference to the labours of his creatures. I have ever thought that there was a certain de- gree of justice due from man to the creatures, as from man to man 3 and that an excessive, immoderate, unseasonable use of the creature's labour, is an injustice for which he must ac- count. To deny domestical creatures their convenient foodj to exact that labour from them, that they are not able to perform j to use extremity or cruelty towards them 3 is a breach of that trust under which the dominion of the creatures was committed to us, and a breach of that justice that is due from men to them. And therefore 1 have always esteeifited it as a part of my duty, and it hath been al- ways my practice, to be merciful to beasts*. And upon the same account I have ever esteemed it a breach of trust, and have accord- ingly declined, any cruelty to any of thy crea-
* Prov. xii. 10.
THE GOOD STEWARD. 165
turesj and as much as I might, prevented it in others; as a tyranny, inconsistent with the trust and stewardship that thou hast committed to me. I have abhorred those sports than con- sists in the torturing of the creatures: and if either noxious creatures must be destroyed, or creatures for food must be taken, it hath been my practice to do it in that manner, that may be with the least torture or cruelty to the crea- ture. And I have still thought it an unlawful thing to destroy those creatures for recreation's sake, that either were not hurtful when they lived, or are not profitable when they are killed 3 ever remembering, that thou hast given us a dominion over thy creatures 3 yet it is under a law of justice, prudence, and modera- tion, otherwise we should become tyrants, not lords, over thy creatures : and therefore those things of this nature, that others have prac- tised as recreations, I have avoided as sins.
As to those Habits of Mind, and know- ledge that I have had or acquired; and namely.
166 THE ACCOUNT OF
XI.
MY LEARNING OF NATURAL CAUSES AND EF- FECTS, AND OF ARTS AND SCIENCES*.
I have not esteemed them the chiefest or best furniture of my mind: but have accounted them but dross in comparison of the know- ledge of Thee, and thy Christ, and Him cruci- fied. In the acquiring of them I have always observed this care: — 1. That I might not too prodigally bestow my time upon them, to the prejudice of that time and pains for the ac- quiring of more excellent knowledge, and the greater concernments of my everlasting hap- piness.
2. I carried along with me, in all my studies of this nature, this great design of im- proving them, and the knowledge acquired by them to the honour of thy name, and the greater discovery of thy wisdom, power, and truth 5 and so translated my secular learning into an improvement of divine knowledge. And had I not had, and practised that design in my acquests of human learning, I had con- cluded my time mispent; because I ever thought it unworthy of a man that had an
THE GOOD STEWARD. 167
everlasting soul, to furnish it only with such learning, as either would die with his body, and so become unuseful for his everlasting state, or that in the next monaent after death, would be attained without labour or toil in this life. Yet this advantage I made and found in my application to secular studies : —
It enlarged and habituated my mind for more useful inquiries.
It carried me up, in a great measure, to the sound and grounded knowledge of Thee, the first cause of all things.
It kept me from idleness and rust.
It kept my thoughts, and life oftentimes, from temptations to worse employments.
My learning and knowledge did not heighten my opinion of myself, parts or abili- ties j but the more I knew, the more humble I was.
I found it was thy strength and blessing that enabled me to itj that gave me under- standing and enlarged it. I did look upon it as a talent lent me, not truly acquired by me.
The more I knew, the more I knew my
own ignorance. I found myself convinced
168 THE ACCOUNT OF
that there was an ignorance in what I thought I knew; my knowledge was but imperfect, and defective; and I found an infinite latitude of things which I knew not: the farther I waded into knowledge, the deeper st 511 1 found it; and it was with me, just as it is with a child that thinks, that if he could but come to such a field, he should be able to touch the hemisphere of the heavens ; but when he comes thither, he finds it as far oflF as it was before. Thus, while my mind pursued knowledge, I found the object still as far before me as it was, if not much farther ; and could no more attain the full and exact knowledge of any one subject, than the hinder wheel of a chariot can overtake the former: though I knew much of what others were ignorant, yet still I found there was much more, whereof I was ignorant, than what I knew; even in the compass of a most confined and inconsiderable subject. And as my very knowledge taught me humility, in the sense of my own igno- rance; so it taught me that my understanding was of finite and limited power, that takes in things by little and little, and gradually; — That thy wisdom is unsearchable and past
THE GOOD STEWARD 169
finding outj — That thy works, which are but finite in themselves, and necessarily short of that infinite wisdom by which they are contrived, are yet so wonderful, that as the wise man saith, " No man can find out the work that thou makest, from the beginning to the end.*" If a man would spend his whole life in the study of a poor fly, there would be such a con- fluence of so many wonderful and difficult ex- hibits in it, that it would still leave much more undiscovered than the most singular wit ever yet attained.
It taught me also, with the wise man, to write vanity and vexation upon all my secular knowledge and learning f. That little that I know, was not attained without much labour, nor yet free from much uncertainty 3 and the great residuum which I knew not, rendered that I knew poor, and inconsiderable: and therefore, —
I did most evidently conclude, that the happiness and perfection of my intellectual power, was not to be found in this kind of knowledge; in a knowledge thus sensibly
* Eccles. iii. 1 1. t Eccles. i 14,
ITO THB ACCOUNT OF
mingled with ignorance, in the things it seems to know; mingled with a dissatisfaction, in respect of the things I know not j mingled with a difficulty in attaining, and restlessness when attained. The more I knew, the more I knew that I knew not 3 and the more I knew, the more impatient my mind was to know what it knew not. My knowledge did rather enlarge my desire of knowing than satisfy it ; and the most intemperate sensual appetite under heaven, was more capable of satisfac- tion by what it enjoyed, than my intellectual appetite or desire was, or could be satisfied with the things I knew : but the enlarging of my understanding with knowledge, did but enlarge and amplify the desire and appetite I had to know; so that what Job's return was upon his inquisition after wisdom : *' The depth saith, It is not in me ; and the sea saith. It is not in me*;" the same account all my several boxes or kinds of knowledge gave me, when I inquired for satisfaction in them. My abstract and choice speculations in the Meta- physics were of that abstract and comprehen-
*Job, xxviii. 14.
THE (JOOD STEWARD. 171
sive nature, that when I had perused great volumes of it, and intended* my mind close to it, yet it was so mercurial, that I could hardly hold itj and yet so extensive and end- less, that the more I read or thought of it, the more I might. — Natural Philosophy (though it were more tractable, because holding a greater vicinity to sense and experiment, yet) I found ful of uncertainty j much of it grounded upon imaginary suppositions, impossible to be ex- perimented ; the latter philosophers censuring the former, and departing from them, and the latest despising and rejecting both j the subject as vast as the visible or tangible universe, and yet every individual so complicated, that if all the rest were omitted, any one had more lines concentered in it, than were possible for any one age to sift to the bottom; yet any one lost, or not exactly scanned, leaves all the rest uncertain and conjectural : the very disquisition concerning any one part of the brain, the eye, the nerves, the blood, hath perplexed the most exact scrutators. — ^Those more dry, yet more demonstrable conclusions in the Mathematics^
•Applied.
j2
172 THE ACCOUNT OP
yet they are endless and perplexed. The pro- portion of lines to lipes, of superficies to super- ficies, bodies to bodies, numbers to numbers, — nay, to leave the whole latitude of the subject, see what long, and intricate, and unsatisfactory pains men have taken about some one particu- lar subject, the quadrature of the circle, coni- cal, oval, and spiral lines ; and yet if it could be attained in the perfection of it, these three unhappinesses attend it.
1. That it is but of little use : it is only known that it may be known. That which is of ordinary use either in Architecture, Measur- ing of bodies and superficies. Mechanics, Busi- ness of Accounts, and the like, is soon attained, and by ordinary capacities : the rest are but curious impertinents, in respect of use and ap- plication.
2. That they serve only for the meridian of this life, and of corporal converse. A separated soul, or a spiritualized body, will not be con- cerned in the use and employment of them.
3. But admit they should; yet, doubtless, a greater measure of such knowledge will be attained in one hour after our dissolution, than the toilsome expense of an age in this life
THE GOOD STEWARD. 173
^ would produce. And the like' may be said for Astronomical disquisitions. What a deal to do ihere is, touching the motion or consistency of the sun or earth j the quality and habitable- ness of the moon j the matter, quantity, and distance of the stars; the several positions, continuity, contiguity, and motions of the heavens; the various influences of the hea- venly bodies in their oppositions, conjunctions, aspects. When once the immortal soul hath flown through the stories of the heavens, in one moment all these will be known distinctly, clearly, and evidently, which here are nothing but conjectures and opinions, gained by long reading or observation.
Upon all these considerations I concluded, that my intellectual power, and the exercise of it in this life, was given me for a more sure and certain, useful, advantageous, suitable and becoming object, even " To know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent*." — A knowledge that is useful for the acquiring of happiness here and hereafter; a knowledge of a subject, though infinitely
* Johh, xvii 3k
^74 THE ACCOUNT OF
comprehensive, yet but onej a knowledge, that though it still move farther, yet it satisfies in what is acquired, and doth not disquiet in attaining more ; a knowledge that is of such use in the world that is to come, as it is here j a knowledge, that the more it is improved in this life, the more it is improved in that which is to comej every grain of it here is enlarged to a vast proportion hereafter 3 a knowledge that is acquired, even with a con- sent, a desire to know, because thy goodness pleaseth to fill such a desire, to instruct from thyself, and there is none teacheth like thee.
xn.
CONCERNING HUMAN PRUDENCE, AND UNDER- STANDING IN AFFAIRS, AND DEXTERITY IN THE MANAGING OF THEM.
I have been always careful to mingle jus- tice and honesty with my prudence j and have always esteemed prudence, acted by injustice and falsity, the arrantest and most devilish practice in the world 3 because it prostitutes thy gift to the service of Hell, and mingles a beam of thy Divine excellence with an extrac- tion of the Devil's furnishing } making a man
THB GOOD STEWARD. 17&
SO much the worse, by how much he is wiser than others. I always thought that wisdom, which in a tradesman, and in a politician, was mingled with deceit, falsity, and injustice, de- served the same name: only the latter is so much the worse, because it was of the more public and general concernment. Yet, because I have often observed great employments, es- pecially in pubic aflfairs, are sometimes under great temptations of mingling too much craft with prudence, and then to miscal it, policy,— I have, as much as may be, avoided such temptations 3 and if I have met with them, I have resolvedly rejected them.
I have always observed, that honesty and plain-dealing in transactions, as well public as private, is the best and soundest prudence and policyj and commonly at the long-run over-matcheth craft and subtlety*; for the deceived and deceiver are Thine ; and thou art privy to the subtilty of the one, and the sim- plicity of the other J and Thou, the great mo- derator and observer of men, dost dispense success and disappointments accordingly.
As human prudence is abused, if mingled
• Job, xii. 16.
176 THE ACCOUNT OF
with falsity and deceit, though the end be never so good j so it is much more embased, if directed to a bad end : to the dishonour of thy name, the oppression of thy people, the corrupting of thy worship or truth, or to exe* cute any injustice towards any person. It hath been my care, as not to err in the manner, so neither in the end of the exercising of thy pro- vidence, l' have ever esteemed thy prudence then best employed, when it was exercised in the preservation and support of thy truth j in the upholding of thy faithful ministers j in countermining, discovering, and disappoint- ing the designs of evil and treacherous men 5 in delivering the oppressed j in righting the injured j in prevention of wars and discords j in preserving the public peace and tranquillity of the people where I livej in faithful advising of my prince J and in all those offices incum- bent upon me by thy providence, under every relation.
When my end was most unquestionably good, I ever then took most heed that the means were suitable and justifiable. — 1. Be- cause the better the end was, the more easily we are cozened into the use of ill means to effect it 3 we are too apt to dispense with our-
THE GOOD STEWARD. 177
selves in the practice of what is amiss, in order to the accomplishing of an end that is good ; we are apt, while with great intention of mind we gaze upon the end, not to care what course we take, so as we attain it ; and are apt to think that God will dispense with, or at least overlook the miscarriage in our attempts, if the end be good. — 2. Because many times, if not most times. Thy name and honour do more suffer, by attempting a good end by bad means, than by attempting both a bad end, and also by bad means. For bad ends are suitable to bad means J they are alike: and it doth not im- mediately, as such, concern thy honour. But every thing that is good, hath somewhat of thee in it : thy name, and thy nature, and thy honour is written upon itj and the blemish that is cast upon it, is in some measure cast upon thee 5 and the evil and scandal, and in- famy, and ugliness that is in the means, is cast upon the end, and doth disparage and blemish it) and consequently it dishonours Thee. To rob for burnt-ofiferings, and to lie for God, is a greater dis-service to Thy majesty, than to rob for rapine, or to lie for advantage.
Whensoevep my prudence was successful,
i5
178 THE ACCOUNT OF
duly to attain a good end, I ever gave Thy name the glory, and that in sincerity. I have known some men (and if a man will observe his own heart, he will find it there also, unless it be strictly denied) that will give God the glory of the success of a good enterprize, but yet with a kind of secret invitation of some- what of praise for themselves, their prudence, conduct, and wisdom j and will be glad to hear of it, and secretly angry and discontented if they miss itj and many times give God the glory, with a kind of ostentation and vain- glory in doing so : but I have given Thee the glory of it ujjon the account of my very judg- ment, that it is due, and due only to Thee. I do know that that prudence that I have, comes from Thee : and I do know, that it is thy pro- vidential ordering of occurrences that makes prudential deliberations successful j and more is due unto thy ordering, disposing, fitting, timing, directing of all in seeming casualties, than there is to that human counsel by which it is acted, or seems to be acted : the least whereof, if not marshalled by Thy hand, would have shattered and broken the counsel to a thousand pieces. Thou givest the advice by
THE GOOD STEWARD. 17^
thy wisdom, and secondest it by Thy provi- dence. Thou dealest by us as we do by our children, when we set them to lift up a heavy staflF, or a weight, and we lift with them : and we again are too like those children, that think we move the weight, when we move not a grain of it.
XIII.
CONCERNING THE GIFT OF ELOCUTION.
I have ever used that gift with Humility 5 not thereby seeking applause to myself, or owning it : because pride and ostentation, in this gift, would be secret idolatry to myself, and sacrilege to Theej robbing thee of thy glory, and therefore signally vindicated in the example of Herod *.
2. With Truth : — I never used the advan- tage of my Elocution, either to maintain a falsehood, or to abuse credulity into a foolish opinion or persuasion.
3. With Integrity : — I never used the ad- vantage of Eloquence or Rhetoric to deceive people, or to cozen them into any thing. My
* Acts, xii.
180 THE ACCOUNT OF
heart always went along with my tongue 3 and if I used intention * of speech upon any occa- sion, it was upon an intention * of conviction in myself, of the truth, necessity, usefulness, and fitness of what 1 so persuaded. If my judgment was doubtful or uncertain, so was my speech. I never used elocution, or speci- ous arguments, to invite any to that which in my own judgment I doubted, or doubted whe- ther it were fit or seasonable, all circumstances considered. I never used my elocution to give credit to an ill cause 5 to justify that which de- served blame J to justify the wicked, or to condemn the righteous; to make any thing appear more specious or enormous than it de- served. I never thought my profession should either necessitate a man to use his eloquence by extenuations, or aggravations, to make any thing worse or better than it deserves, or could justify a man in it: to prostitute my elocution or rhetoric in such a way, I ever held to be most basely mercenary; and that it was below the worth of a man, much more of a Christian, so to