dunghill-mouth? Methinks the lustre of my sparkling eye might have had the power to astonish him into good manners, and sent him back to cast his mind into a fair petition, humbly presented with his trembling hand! But thus to press into my presence, to press so near my face, and then to speak, and speak to me, as if I were his equal-is more than sufferable! The way to be contemned is, to digest contempt; but he that would be honoured by the vulgar sort, must wisely keep a distance. A countenance that's reserved breeds fear and observation; but affability, and too easy an access, makes fools too bold, and reputation cheap. What price I set upon my own deserts, instructs opinion how to prize me. That which base ignorance miscalls my pride, is but a conscious knowledge of my merits. Dejected souls, cravened with their own distrusts, are the world's footballs, to be kicked and spurned; but brave and true heroic spirits, that know the strength of their own worth, shall baffle baseness and presumption into a reverential silence, and, spite of envy, flourish in an honourable repute. Come then, my soul, advance thy noble, thy sublimer thoughts; and prize thyself according to those parts, which all may wonder at, few imitate, but none can equal. Let not the insolent affronts of vassals interrupt thy peace, nor seem one scruple less than what thou art. Be thou thyself, respect thyself, receive thou honour from thyself, rejoice thyself in thyself, and prize thyself for thyself. Like Cæsar, admit no equal, and like Pompey, acknowledge no superior. Be covetous of thine own honour, and hold another's glory as thy

injury. Renounce humility, as an heresy in reputation; and meekness, as the worst disease of a true bred noble spirit. Disparage worth in all, but in thyself; and make another's infamy a foil to magnify thy glory. Let such as have no reason to be proud, be humbled of necessity; and let them that have no parts to value, be despondent: but as for thee, thy cards are good; and having skill enough to play thy hopeful game, vie boldly, conquer, and triumph.

But stay, my soul, the trump is yet unturned; boast not too soon, nor call it a fair day till night; the turning of a hand may make such alterations in thy flattering fortunes, that all thy glorious expectations may chance to end in loss, and unsuspected ruin. That God which thrust the Babylo nian prince from his imperial throne, to graze with beasts, hath said,

The Lord will destroy the house of the proud. Prov. xv. 25.

When pride cometh, then cometh shame; but with the lowly is wisdom. Prov. xi.

Hear ye, and give ear, and be not proud, for the Lord hath spoken. Jer. xi. 15.

The day of the Lord of Hosts shall be upon every one that is proud and lofty, and upon every one that is lifted up, and he shall be brought low. Isaiah, ii. 12.

Every one that is proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord. Prov. xvi. 5.

God rejecteth the proud, and giveth grace to the simple. St. James.

HIS SOLILOQUY.

How wert thou muffled, O my soul! how were thine eyes blinded with the corruption of thine own heart! When I beheld myself by my own light, I seemed a glorious thing; my sun knew no eclipse, and all my imperfections were gilded over with vain-glory. But now the day-spring from above hath shined upon my heart, and the diviner light hath driven away those foggy mists, I find myself another thing; my diamonds are all turned pebbles, and my glory is turned to shame. O my deceived soul! how great a darkness was thy light! The thing that seemed so glorious, and sparkled in the night, by day appears but rotten wood; and that bright glow-worm, which in darkness outshined the chrysolite, is, by this newfound light, no better than a crawling worm. How inseparable, O my soul, are pride and folly! which, like Hippocrates' twins, still live and die together. It blinds the eye, befools the judgment, knows no superiors, hates equals, disdains inferiors, is the wise man's scorn, and the fool's idol. Renounce it, O my soul, lest thy God renounce thee. He that hath threatened to resist the proud, hath promised to give grace to the humble; and what true repentance speaks, free mercy hears and

crowns.

HIS PRAYER.

O GOD, the fountain of all true glory, and the giver of all free grace, whose name is only honour

able, and whose works are only glorious; that shewest thy ways to be meek, and takest compassion upon an humble spirit; that hatest the presence of a lofty eye, and destroyest the proud in the imaginations of their heart; vouchsafe, O Lord, thy gracious ear, and hear the sighing of a contrite heart. I know, O God, the quality of my sin can look for nothing but the extremity of thy wrath. I know, the crookedness of my condition can expect nothing but the furnace of thy indignation. I know the insolence of my corrupted nature can hope for nothing but the execution of thy judgments. Yet, Lord, I know withal, thou art a gracious God, of evil repenting thee, and slow to wrath. I know thy nature and property is to shew compassion; apt to conceive, but readier to forgive. I know thou takest no pleasure in the destruction of a sinner, but rather that he should repent, and live: in confidence and full assurance whereof, I am here prostrate on my bended knees, and with an humble heart. Nor do I press into thy holy presence trusting in my own merits, lest thou shouldst deal by me as I have dealt by others; but, being encouraged by thy gracious invitation, and heavy laden with the burden of my sins, I come to thee, O God, who art the refuge of a wounded soul, and the sanctuary of a broken spirit. Forgive, O God, forgive me what is past recalling, and make me circumspect for the time to come. Open mine eyes, that I may see how vain a thing I am, and how polluted from my very birth. Give me an insight of my own corruptions, that I may truly know and loath myself. Take from me all vain-glory and

self-love, and make me careless of the world's applause. Endue me with an humble heart, and take this haughty spirit from me. Give me a true discovery of my own merits, that I may truly fear and tremble at thy judgments. Let not the world's contempt deject me, nor the disrespects of man dismay me. Take from me, O God, a scornful eye, and curb my tongue that speaks presumptuous things. Plant in my heart a brotherly love, and cherish in me a charitable affection. Possess

my soul with patience, O God, and establish my heart in the fear of thy name; that, being humbled before thee, in the meekness of my spirit, I may be exalted by thee through the freeness of thy grace, and crowned with thee in the kingdom of thy glory.

THE COVETOUS MAN.

HIS CARE.

BELIEVE me, the times are hard and dangerous. Charity is grown cold, and friends uncomfortable. An empty purse is full of sorrow, and hollow bags make a heavy heart. Poverty is a civil pestilence, which frights away both friends and kindred, and leaves us to a 'Lord have mercy upon us.' a sickness very catching and infectious, and more commonly abhorred than cured. The best antidote against it is angelico and providence, and the best cordial is aurum potabile. Gold-taking, fast

It is