"all his faithful people, pardon and peace; that we

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may be cleansed from all our sins, and serve him “with a quiet mind: and that our hearts and all "our members being mortified from all worldly and "carnal lusts, we may in all things cheerfully obey "his blessed will! And may he have such com"passion upon our infirmities, that among all the changes and chances of this mortal life, we may "be ever defended by his most gracious and ready help, through Jesus Christ our Lord! Amen.”

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CHAP. II.

OF THE REGULATION OF LOVE.

SECT. I.

Of the Nature of this Passion, and its chief Object. THAT it is the great and uncontrollable desire of every man to be happy is past a question; it is that centre to which we all press, with the full weight of our souls: and whatever we love or hate, pursue or avoid, is all with respect to that great end, happi

ness.

And as happiness is the great end, so love is the great and powerful instrument, or means, whereby we come to attain it. By love we are inwardly united to those objects which we conceive to be good and excellent, and will make us happy; and it is love that inflames our desire of their enjoyment, and pushes us on in an actual and vigorous pursuit of them. For desire is only love, actually reaching forth to the beloved object, that it may possess and enjoy it; and therefore our desires always follow the nature of our love, (as indeed do all our other passions,) and join their forces to accomplish what this their great leader commands.

And therefore it is of the highest importance to us, that this great leader be directed right, and our love be fixed as it ought; and then the rest of our passions will be well employed of course.

Whereas, if love be mistaken in its choice, and placed upon an object that is unworthy of it, and cannot make us happy; all our other powers will be engaged to no better purpose, than to fill us with shame and disappointment, if not worse.

And indeed so exceeding apt are we to be deceived in the course we take to be happy, that no care can be too great to set out right at first; and, after all, notwithstanding our best prudence, we are still too often driving on apace in the wrong way: which, when we seriously reflect upon, must needs be a very melancholy consideration.

Now, one great reason of our being so frequently and grossly mistaken in the way, and the various contrary paths we make choice of to the same great end, is the impatient, restless desire we have of attaining the end: which hurries us on inconsiderately to press after it, in the pursuit of every thing that seems to lead to it, though it be but what gratifies our bodily appetites and propensions only. And like the busy bee, we often make a stop, and taste of this and that enjoyment, which at a distance looks very fair and inviting, like the flowers of the spring; but the shortlived pleasure soon assures us that happiness is not there: and then, having sucked it dry, we fly off again, and renew our pursuit as before, after some fresh, unexperienced delight, which proves as empty as the former; and so on during our pilgrimage through this vain shadow of mortality.

Sometimes for instance, especially in the spring of life, when our spirits are active and gay, we are very warm in the pursuit of pleasure, that of the world, I mean, and of sense in all its various kinds

and dresses; and have a mighty fancy that that will make us happy. But how cloying, even to a nauseatę, does every one soon experience this to be! How soon are we weary of the most tempting enjoyments, continually exchanging one for another, in a tedious round, till at length we are fain to take up again with what we have already often rifled and laid aside, because tired with every other sort of pleasure that has succeeded in its room! Indeed, we are beholden to a studied, laborious variety for the relish of every thing of this nature, which if dwelt upon any thing long, would become, not only insipid, but displeasing; and are fain, by opinion and fancy, to make up what is wanting in the things themselves.

But then, when diseases come, (which immoderate use of sensual pleasure will hasten on apace,) and the vigour of youth is turned into the infirmities of age, and our blood begins to chill, and our spirits are impoverished, and our senses grow dull and heavy; then bodily pleasure ceases of course, the man is no longer capable of it, and all the most sprightly enjoyments are then without their relish, and he regards them not.

And now, what a strange sort of happiness is that, which will certainly leave a man when he is old, and the longer he lives the less he shall be able to enjoy; and the more freely he enjoyed it when he could, will be the more likely to end, if not in diseases and poverty and shame, yet in the lashes of a guilty conscience, and a comfortless death, and a sad reckoning at the day of judgment !

To this succeeds the love of honour and greatness, and when balked in the pursuit of pleasure, we BRAGGE, VOL. v.

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divert to that of height and grandeur of place and title, which may give us authority and command, and raise us so much above other mortals as to challenge their greatest respect and veneration, and most humble, submissive deportment in all their addresses to us; as if we were of another make from the rest of mankind, and advanced to a kind of divine excellency upon earth.

This is a thing that pride is apt to make us passionately to affect, and eagerly to aspire after, and to be extremely delighted with, and value ourselves much upon, and full of the highest resentment when any part of this honour is neglected to be paid.

Now, though it is very true there ought to be due respect shewn by inferiors to their betters, according to the distance that is between them, expressed in a manner that is agreeable to the usages of the place we live in; and the reasons of this practice are very good, and it was always observed by all sorts of people except an enthusiastic sect sprung up of late; yet what is there in the thing that is so truly valuable in itself, as to justify that excessive fondness for it which is almost in every body?

Is any man really the better for this piece of pageantry, this vain show and outside of honour? does it add any new real excellency to the person that is thus honoured, or any way promote that which is his true happiness? If it did, it were indeed desirable; but if it does not, but rather the contrary, as we shall see presently, I cannot see why men should be so extremely nice and tender in this point, and value that so highly which is of so very little worth. It is generally no more than bare formality, paid out of custom, or by constraint; and