the nurse to the fubjection of the schoolmafter, and then, if he studies, it is ever with repining; and, if he plays, it is never but with fear. This whole age, while he is under the charge of another, is unto him no better than a prifon : and therefore he longs for, and only afpires to that age, in which, freed from the tutelage of another, he may become mafter of himself, pushing time forward, as it were with his fhoulder, that he may the fooner enjoy his hoped for liberty. In fhort, he defires nothing more than to fee the end of this age, which he looks upon as bondage and flavery, and to enter upon the beginning of his youth. And what is the beginning of youth, but the death of infancy? And the beginning of manhood, but the death of youth? Or, what is the beginning of to-morrow, but the death of the prefent day? Therefore fuch a one implicitly defires his death, and judges his life miferable; and cannot be reputed in a ftate of happiness or contentment.

We will now fuppofe our youth at liberty, in that age, he fo much pined

after, wherein he has his choice to take the way of virtue or of vice, and either to chufe reafon or paffion for his guide. His paffion entertains him with a thoufand delights, prepares for him a thousand baits, and prefents him with a thousand worldly pleasures to surprise him: vicious and polluted pleafures, which ever held him in a reftless fever: pleasures, that at laft end in repentance, and like fweetmeats are of a bad digeflion: pleafures that are bought with pain, and in a moment perifh, but leave behind a lafting guilt, and long remorfe of confcience. I will not mention the mifchiefs, quarrels, debates, wounds, murders, banifhments, ficknefs, and other dangers, whereinto fometimes the incontinency, and fometimes the infolency of this ill-guided age does plunge men. Behold then the life of a young man, who, rid of the government of his rents and mafters, abandons himself to all the exorbitances of his unruly paffon; which, like an unclean fpirit

pa

poffeffing him, throws him fometimes into the water, and then into the fire; fometimes carries him clear over a rock, and at other times flings him headlong to the bottom.

And, even if he follows reafon for his guide, he muft meet with wonderful difficulties: for he muft refolve to fight in every part of the field, and at every ftep to be in conflict, as having the enemy in front, in flank, and in the rear, continually affailing him: And this enemy is all that can delight him, all that he fees near, or far off. This is no less than the world itself, our greatest enemy, and muft there, fore be overcome.

But, befides the world, he has a thousand treacherous enemies within him, amongst whom his paffion is none of the leaft; which waits for an occafion to furprife him, and betray him to his luft. It is God only, that can make him chufe the path of virtue: and it is God only, that can keep him in it to the end, and make him victorious in all his combats. But, alas! how few they are that enter into it, and of thofe few, how many that retire again! fo that let a man follow the one way or the other, he must either fubject himself to a tyrannical paffion, or undertake a weary and continual combat; wilfully throw himself into the arms of deftruction, or fetter himfelf, as it were, in the ftocks; eafily carried away with the current of the water, or painfully stemming the impetuous tide.

Behold then the happiness of a young man who, in his youth, having drank his full draught of the world's vain and deceivable pleafures, is overtaken by them with fuch a dull heavinefs and aftonifhment, as drunkards feel on the morrow after a debauch, or gluttons after a plentiful feaft; who are fo overpreffed with the exceffes of the former day, that the very remembrance of it creates a loathing. And even he that has made the ftouteft refiftance, feels himself fo weary, and fo bruifed and broken with this continual conflict, that he is either upon

the

the point to yield, or to die. Yet, this is all the good, all the contentment of this flourishing age, by children fo earnestly defired, and by thofe, who have experienced it, fo heartily

lamented.

Should he arrive to the ftate of what is called perfect age, in which men have no other thoughts but to purchafe to themselves wisdom and reft; he will even then find, that it is herein only perfect, because all imperfections of human nature, hidden before under the fimplicity of childhood, or the lightness of youth, appear at this age in perfection, fpeaking even of thofe that are efteemed the wifest and most happy, in the opinion of the world; who are continually purfued by, and facrifice their reft, quiet, and time to avarice and ambition, as I will shew you more at large, on fome other occafion.

However, every man promises himfelf great contentment in old age; hopes then to repofe himself without further care, and to keep himself at ease in health; but fuch a one too often deceives himself. In old age there is nothing but an after tafte of all the foregoing evils; and most commonly a plentiful harvest of all fuch vices, as, in the whole courfe of their life, hath held and poffeffed them. For here you have the imbecillity and weakness of infancy, and (which is worfe) many times accompanied with authority you are paid for the excess and riot of your youth, with gouts, palfies, and fuch like difeafes, which take from you limb after limb with pain and torment: here you are recompenfed for the anxieties of mind, the watchings and cares of manhood, with lofs of fight, lofs of hearing, and of all the fenfes, one after another, except only the fenfe of pain. Death feizes on every part, to make fure of us; as a bailiff does of a bad-paymaster, that forfeits his day of payment, Here is nothing in us, which is not vifibly declining, except our vices, and they pot only live, but in defpite of nature grow young again. The covetous

man hath one foot in the grave, and yet is burying his money, as if he had hopes to find it again another day.The ambitious, in his will, provides for a pompous funeral, making his vice to triumph, even after his death. The child wishes for youth, and the old man laments it; the young man lives in hopes of the future, and this feels the evil prefent, laments the falfe pleafures paft, and fees for the time to come nothing to hope for: And the old man is more foolish than the child, in bewailing the time he cannot recal, and remembers not the evil that he fuffered in it ; and more wretched than the young man, in that, after a vicious life, and not being able any longer to live, he muft miferably die, feeing nothing round about him, but matter of despair,

I fhall not trouble you with a long roll of those almost infinite evils, wherewith men in all ages are afflicted, as loss of friends and parents, banifhments, exiles, difgraces, and other accidents, common and ordinary in the world; one complaining of lofing his children, another of having them; one lamenting for his wife's death, another for her life: one finding fault that he is too high in court, and others more often, that they are not high enough. The world is full of evils, fo that it would require a world of time to write them in. And, if the most happy man in the world fhould fet his felicities against each other, he would fee caufe enough to pronounce himself unhappy: yet, perhaps, he might be accounted happy by fome other man; who, perhaps, if he had been but three days in poffeffion of his reputed happy ftate, would be glad to yield it up to him that fhould come next. And he that fhall confider, in all the goods that ever he hath had, the evils he hath suffered to get them, and, having got them, to retain and keep them (I fpeak of pleafures that may be kept, and not of those that wither in a moment) he will foon confefs, that keeping itself of the greatest felicity in this world is full of unhappiness and infelicity.

There

Therefore we may conclude, That childhood is but a foolish fimplicity; youth a vain heat; manhood, a painful carefulness; and old age, an uneafy languishing: That our plays are but tears; our pleasures, fevers of the mind; our goods, racks and torments;

OU have already been informed, page 232, Vol. VI. in what manner and how to discover the Creator in Plants, Flowers, Fruits, and Trees. I fhall continue this useful inftruction by the like obfervations on animals; in which I shall obferve the order which God followed in their creation.

FISH.

What an abundance of fifh do the waters produce of every fize? When I view these animals, I feem to difcern nothing befides a head and a tail. They have neither feet nor arms. Their very head cannot freely be moved; and, were I to confider only their figure, I should think them deprived of all that was neceffary for the prefervation of their life; but with thefe few outward organs they are more nimble, dextrous, and artificial, than if they had several hands and feet; and the ufe they make of their tail and fins carries them along like arrows, and feems to make them fly.

As the fifh devour one another, how can these watery inhabitants fubfift? God has provided for it by multiplying them in fo prodigious a manner, that their fruitfulness infinitely furpaffes their mutual defire of eating one another; and what is destroyed is always far in ferior to their increase.

I am only in pain how the little ones fhould efcape the bigger, which look upon them as their prey, and are continually in purfuit of them. But this weak race are swifter in their courfe than the others. They creep into places where the low water will not admit of the larger fish, and it seems as if

God had given them a forefight, în proportion to their weakness and dan gers.

Whence comes, it, that the fish live in the midft of waters fo loaded with falt, that we cannot bear a drop of them in our mouths, and enjoy there a perfect vigour and health? and how do they preferve, in the midft of falt, a flesh that has not the least taste of it?

Why do the belt, and fuch as are moft fit for the use of man, draw near the coafts, to offer themselves in a manner to him, whilst a great many others, which are useless to him, affect remoteness from him?

Why do those, who keep themfelves in unknown places, whilft they multiply and acquire a certain bulk, come in fhoals at a particular time to invite the fishermen, and throw themselves, in a manner, into their nets and boats ?

Why do feveral of them, and of the beft kinds, enter the mouths of rivers, and run up even to their springs, to communicate the advantages of the fea to fuch countries as lie at a diftance from it? And what hand conducts them with fo much care and goodness towards man, but thine, O Lord, though fo vifible a providence feldom occafions their acknowledgment?

This providence is every-where to be difcerned, and the innumerable fhells, which are spread upon the fhore, hide different kinds of fifh, that with a very fmall appearance of life are to open their fhells at certain regular times to take in fresh water, and retain therein, by fpeedily joining them together, the impru dent prey, which falls into that fnare.

BIRDS.

We fee a furprizing imitation of reason in several animals, but it no where appears in a more fenfible manner, than in the industry of birds in building their nests.

In the first place, What mafter has taught them that they have need of them? Who has taken care to inform them to prepare them in time, and not to fuffer themselves to be prevented by neceffity? Who has told them how they fhould build them? What mathematician has given them the figure of them? What architect has taught them to chufe a firm place, and to build upon a folid foundation? What tender mother has advifed them to cover the bottom with a soft and delicate fubftance, fuch as down and cotton? And, when these matters fail, who has fuggefted to them that ingenious charity, which leads them to pluck off fomany feathers from their own breafts with their beaks, as is requi. fite for the preparing a cradle for their young?

In the fecond place, What wisdom has pointed out to every diftinct kind a peculiar manner of building their nefts, fo as to obferve the fame precautions, though in a thousand different ways? Who has commanded the fwallow, the skilfulleft of birds, to draw near to man, and make choice of his house for the building of his neft, with in his view, without fear of his knowing it, and feeming rather to invite him to a confideration of his labour? Neither does he build, like other birds, with little bits of sticks and ftubble, but employs cement and mortar, and in fo folid a manner, that it requires fome pains to demolish its work; and yet in all this it makes ufe of no other inftrument but its beak. Reduce, if it is poffible, the ableft architect to the fmall bulk of a swallow, leave him all his knowledge and only a beak, and fee if he will have the same skill, and the like fuccefs.

Thirdly, Who has made all the birds comprehend that they muft hatch their

eggs by fitting upon them? That this neceffity was indifpenfable? That the father and mother could not leave them at the fame time, and that, if one went abroad to feek for food, the other muft wait till it returns? Who has fixed in the calendar the express number of days this painful diligence is to laft? Who has advertised them to affift the young, that are already formed, in coming out of the egg, by firft breaking the thell? And who has fo exactly inftructed them in the very moment before which they never come?

Laftly, Who has given leffons to all the birds upon the care they ought to take of their young, till fuch time as they are grown up, and in a condition to provide for themselves? Who has made them to diftinguish fuch things as agree well with one fpecies, but are prejudicial to another? And amongst fuch as are proper to the parents, and unfit for the young, who has made them to diftinguish fuch as are falutary? We know the tenderness of mothers, and the carefulness of nurses amongst mankind, but I queftion whether ever it came up to what we fee in these little

creatures.

Who has taught several among the birds that marvellous industry of retaining food or water in their gullet, without fwallowing either the one or the other, and preserving them for their young, to whom this first preparation ferves instead of milk?

Is it for the birds, O Lord, that thou haft joined together fo many miracles, which they have no knowledge of? Is it for men, who give no attention to them? Is it for the curious, who are fatisfied with admiring them, without raising their thoughts to thee? Or is it not rather vifible, that thy design has been to call us to thyfelf by fuch a fpectacle; to make us fenfible of thy providence and infinite wisdom and to fill us with confidence in thy bounty, who watchest with so much care and tenderness over the birds, tho' two of them are fold but for a farthing?

;

Bat

But let us fet bounds to our obfervations upon the industry of birds, for the fubject is infinite, and hearken for a moment to the concert of their mufic, the first praise which God received from nature, and the first fong of thankfgi. ving, which was offered to him before man was formed. All their founds are different, but all harmonious, and all together compofe a choir which men have but forrily imitated. One voice however, more strong and melodious, is diftinguished among the reft, and I find, upon enquiry, from whence it comes, that is a very small bird, which is the organ of it. This leads me to confider all the rest of the finging tribe, and they also are all fmall: the great ones being either wholly ignorant of mufic, or having a difagreeable voice. Thus I every where find, that what feems weak and small, has the best deftination, and the moft gratitude.

Some of thefe little birds are extremely beautiful, nor can any thing be more rich or variegated than their feathers; but it must be owned, that all ornament must give place to the finery of the peacock, upon which God has plentifully beftowed all the riches which fet off the relt, and lavished upon it with gold and azure all the fhades of This bird feems every other colour. fenfible of its advantage, and looks as if defigned to display all its beauties to our eyes, when it expands that fplendid circumference which fets them all to view.

But this most pompous bird of all has a most disagreeable cry, and is a proof, that with a very fhining outfide, there may be but a forry fubftance within, little gratitude, and a great deal of vanity.

In examining the feathers of the reft, I find one thing very fingular in thofe of the fwans, and other river fowls, for they are proof against the water, and continue always dry, and yet our eyes do not discover either the artifice or difference of them.

I look upon the feet of the fame birds, and obferve webs there, which

diftinctly mark their destination. But I am much aftonished to see these birds fo fure, that they run no hazard by throwing themselves into the water; whereas others, to whom God has not given the like feathers or feet, are never fo rafh as to expose themfelves to it. Who has told the former that they run no danger, and who keeps back the others from following their example? It is not unufual to fet duck eggs under a hen, which in this cafe is deceived by her affection, and takes a foreign brood for her natural offspring, that run to the water as foon as they come out of the fhell, nor can their pretended mother prevent them by her repeated calls. She ftands upon the brink in aftonishment at their rafhness, and still more at the fuccefs of it. She finds herself violently tempted to follow them, and warmly expreffes her impatience, but nothing is capable of carrying her to an indifcretion which God has prohibi ted. The fpectators are furprized at it, more or less in proportion to their underftanding; for it is the want of light and understanding, when fuch prodigies excite fo little admiration. But it is rare that the fpectators learn from this example, that it is necessary to be deftined by providence to discharge the functions of a dangerous ftate, and to receive from it all that is requifite for our fecurity; and that it is a fatal rashnefs for others to venture upon it, who have neither the fame vocation, nor the fame talents.

I fhould never have done, fhould I undertake to confider many miracles of a like nature with thofe I have here related. I fhall content myself with one obfervation more, which takes in feveral others, and relates to birds of paffage.

They have all their allotted times, which they do not exceed; but this time is not the fame for every species. Some wait for the winter, others the fpring; fome the fummer, and others the autumn. There is amongst every fort a public and general rule of government, which guides and retains every fingle bird in its duty. Before the

general