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would feem to be. Befides, it is often as troublefome to fupport the pretence of a good quality as to have it, and if a man have it not, it is most likely he will be discovered to want it, and then all his labour to feem to have it is loft. There is fomething unnatural in painting, which a fkilful eye will eafily difcern from native beauty, and complexion. Ir is hard to perfonate and act a part long; for where truth is not at the bottom, nature will always be endeavouring to return, and will betray herself at one time or other. Therefore if any man think it convenient to feem good, let him be fo indeed, and then his goodnefs will appear to every one's fatisfaction; for truth is convincing, and carries its own light and evidence along with it, and will not only commend us to every man's confcience, but, which is much more, to God, who fearcheth our hearts. So that upon all accounts fincerity is true wifdom. Particularly as to the affairs of this world, integrity hath many advantages over all the artificial modes of diffimulation and deceit. It is much the plainer and eafter, much the fafer and more fecure way of dealing in the world; it has lefs of trouble and difficulty, of entanglement and perplexity, of danger and hazard in it; it is the fhorteft and neareft way to our end, carrying us thither in a straight line, and will hold out and laft longeft. The arts of deceit and cunning continually grow weaker and lefs eff. &tual and ferviceable to thofe that practife them; whereas integrity gains strength by ufe, and the more and longer any man prattileth it, the greater fervice it does him, by confirming his reputation, and encouraging those with whom he hath to do, to repose the greater confidence in him? which is an unfpeakable advantage in buline.s and t e affairs of life.

A DISSEMBLER must always be upon his guard, and watch imfelf carefully, that he do not contradict his own pretenfions; for he acts an unnatural part, and therefore muft put a continual force and restraint upon himself.

Whereas

Whereas he that acts fincerely hath the eafieft task in the world; because he follows nature, and fo is put to no trouble and care about his words and actions; he needs not invent any pretences beforehand, nor make excufes afterwards, for any thing he has faid or done.

BUT infincerity is very troublefome to manage; a hypocrite hath fo many things to attend to, as make his life a very perplexed and intricate thing. A liar hath need of a good memory, left, he contradict at one time what he faid at another; but truth is always confiftent with itself, and needs nothing to help it out; it is always near at hand, and fits upon our lips; whereas a lie is troublefome, and needs a great many more to make it good.

ADD to all this, that fincerity is the most compendious wisdom, and an excellent inftrument for the fpeedy dispatch of bufinefs. It creates confidence in those we have to deal with, faves the labour of many inquiries, and brings things to an iffue in few words. It is like travelling in a plain beaten road, which commonly brings a man fooner to his journey's end, than by-ways, in which men often lofe themselves. In a word; whatfoever convenience may be thought to be in falfehood and diffimulation, it is foon over; but the inconvenience of it is perpetual, because it brings a man under an everlasting jealoufy and fufpicion, fo that he is not believed when he speaks truth, nor trufted when perhaps he means honeftly.. When a man hath once forfeited the reputation of his integrity, nothing will then ferve his turn, neither truth nor falfehood.

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INDEED, if a man were only to deal in the world for a day, and should never have occafion to converse more with mankind, never more need their good opinion or good word, it were then no great matter (as far as refpects the affairs of this world) if he spent his reputation all at once, and ventured it at one throw. But if he be to continue in the advantage of reputation whilft

world, and would have the

he is in it, let him make ufe of truth and fincerity in all his words and actions, for nothing but this will hold out to the end. All other arts may fail, but truth and integrity will carry a man through, and bear him out to the laft. TILLOTSON.

CHAP. IV.

ON HONOUR.

EVERY principle that is a motive to good actions ought to be encouraged, fince men are of fo different a make, that the fame principle does not work equally upon all minds. What fome men are prompted to by confcience, duty, or religion, which are only different names for the fame thing, others are prompted to by honour.

THE fenfe of honour is of fo fine and delicate a nature, that it is only to be met with in minds which are naturally noble, or in fuch as have been cultivated by great examples; or a refined education. This effay therefore is chiefly defigned for those who, by means of any of these advantages, are, or ought to be, actuated by this glorious principle.

BUT as nothing is more pernicious than a principle of action, when it is misunderstood, I fhall confider honour with refpect to three forts of men. First of all, with regard to those who have a right notion of it. Secondly, with regard to those who have a mistaken notion of it. And, thirdly, with regard to thofe who treat it as chimerical, and turn it into ridicule.

In the first place, true honour, though it be a different principle from religion, is that which produces the fame effects. The lines of action, though drawn from different. parts, terminate in the fame point. Religion embraces virtue, as it is enjoined by the laws of God; honour, as it is graceful and ornamental to human nature. The religious man fears, the man of honour scorns, to do an ill action. The latter confidess vice as fomething that is beneath him, the

other

den.

ether as fomething that is offenfive to the Divine Being. The one, as what is unbecoming; the other, as what is forbidThus Seneca fpeaks in the natural and genuine language of a man of honour, when he declares, that were there God to fee or punish vice, he would not commit it, be cause it.is of so mean, so base, and so vile a nature.

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I SHALL conclude this head with the defcription of honour in the fpeech of young Juba.

Honour's a facred tie, the law of Kings,

The noble mind's distinguishing perfection, That aids and ftrengthens virtue when it meets her, - And imitates her actions where fhe is not.

It ought not to be fported with.

CATO.

In the fecond place, we are to confider those who have miftaken notions of honour. And these are such as establish any thing to themfelves for a point of honour, which is contrary either to the laws of God or of their country; who think it more honourable to revenge than to forgive an injury; who make no fcruple of telling a lie, but would pat any man to death that accufes them of it; who are more careful to guard their reputation by their courage than by` their virtue. True fortitude is indeed fo becoming in human nature, that he who wants it fcarce deferves the name of a man; but we find several who fo much abuse this notion, that they place the whole idea of honour in a kind of brutal courage; by which means we have had many among us who bave called themfelves men of honour, that would have been a disgrace to a gibbet. In a word, the man who facrifices any duty of a reasonable creature to a prevailing mode or fashion, who looks upon any thing as honourable that is difpleafing to his Maker, or destructive to fociety, who thinks himself obliged by this principle to the practice

of fome virtues and not of others, is by no means to be reckoned among true men of honour.

MOGENES was a lively inftance of one actuated by falfe honour. Timogenes would fmile at a man's jeft who ridiculed his Maker, and at the fame time run a man through the body that spoke ill of his friend. Timogenes would have fcorned to have betrayed a fecret that was entrusted with him, though the fate of his country depended upon the difcovery of it. Timogenes took away the life of a young fellow in a duel, for having fpoke ill of Belinda, a lady whom he himself had feduced in her youth, and betrayed into want and ignominy. To clofe his character, Timogenes, after having ruined feveral poor tradefmen's families who had trufted him, fold his eftate to fatisfy his creditors; but, like a man of honour, difpofed of all the money he could make of it, in the paying of his play debts, or, to speak in his own language, his debts of honour.

In the third place we are to confider those persons, who treat this principle as chimerical, and turn it into ridicule. Men who are profeffedly of no honour, are of a more profli gate and abandoned nature than even those who are actuated by falfe notions of it, as there is more hope of a heretic than of an atheiít. Thefe fons of infamy confider honour with old Syphax, in the play before mentioned, as a fine imaginary notion that leads aftray young unexperienced men, and draws them into real mischiefs, while they are engaged in the pursuit of a fhadow. Thefe are generally perfons who, in Shakspeare's phrafe, "are worn and hackneyed in the ways of men;" whofe imaginations are grown callous, and have loft all those delicate fentiments which are natural to minds that are innocent and undepraved. Such old battered miscreants ridicule every thing as romantic that comes in competition with their prefent intereft, and treat thofe perfons as vifionaries, who dare ftand up in a corrupt age, for what has not its immediate reward joined to it. The

talents,