same temper of mind which makes him desire fame, makes him hate reproach. If he can be transported with the extraordinary praises of men, he will be as much dejected by their censures. How little, therefore, is the happiness of an ambitious man, who gives every one a dominion over it, who thus subjects himself to the good or ill speeches of others, and puts it in the power of every malicious tongue to throw him into a fit of melancholy, and destroy his natural rest and repose of mind; especially when we consider that the world is more apt to censure than applaud, and himself fuller of imperfections than virtues! We may further observe, that such a man will be more grieved for the loss of fame, than he could have been pleased with the enjoyment of it. For though the presence of this imaginary good cannot make us happy, the absence of it may make us miserable: because, in the enjoyment of an object, we only find that share of pleasure which it is capable of giving us, but, in the loss of it, we do not proportion our grief to the real value it bears, but to the value our fancies and imaginations set upon it. So inconsiderable is the satisfaction that fame brings along with it, and so great the disquietudes to which it makes us liable! The desire of it stirs up very uneasy motions in the mind, and is rather inflamed than satisfied by the presence of the thing desired. The enjoyment of it brings but very little pleasure, though the loss or want of it be very sensible and afflicting; and even this little happiness is so very precarious, that it wholly depends upon the will of others. We are not only tortured by the reproaches which are offered us, but are disappointed by the silence of men when it is unexpected; and humbled even by their praises. C No. 257. TUESDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1711. - Οὐχ ̓ εὕδει Διὸς Οφθαλμὸς· ἐγγὺς δ ̓ ἐστὶ καὶ παρὼν πόνῳ. INCERT. EX STOB. No slumber seals the eye of Providence, THAT I might not lose myself upon a subject of so great extent as that of fame, I have treated it in a particular order and method. I have first of all considered the reasons why Providence may have implanted in our mind such a principle of action. I have in the next place shown from many considerations, first, that fame is a thing difficult to be ob tained, and easily lost; secondly, that it brings the ambitious man very little happiness, but subjects him to much uneasiness and dissatisfaction. I shall in the last place show, that it hinders us from obtaining an end which we have abilities to acquire, and which is accompanied with fulness of satisfaction. I need not tell my reader, that I mean by this end, that happiness which is reserved for us in another world, which every one has abilities to procure, and which will bring along with it, 'fulness of joy and pleasures for evermore.' How the pursuit after fame may hinder us in the attainment of this great end, I shall leave the reader to collect from the three following considerations: First, Because the strong desire of fame breeds several vicious habits in the mind. Secondly, Because many of those actions, which are apt to procure fame, are not in their nature conducive to this our ultimate happiness. Thirdly, Because if we should allow the same actions to be the proper instruments, both of acquiring fame, and of procuring this happiness, they would nevertheless fail in the attainment of this last end, if they proceeded from a desire of the first. These three propositions are self-evident to those who are versed in speculations of morality: for which reason, I shall not enlarge upon them, but proceed to a point of the same nature, which may open to us a more uncommon field of speculation. From what has been already observed, I think we may make a natural conclusion, that it is the greatest folly to seek the praise or approbation of any being, besides the Supreme, and that for these two reasons: because no other being can make a right judgement of us, and esteem us according to our merits; and because we can procure no considerable benefit or advantage from the esteem and approbation of any other being. In the first place, no other being can make a right judgement of us, and esteem us according to our merits. Created beings see nothing but our outside, and can therefore only frame a judgement of us from our exterior actions and behaviour; but how unfit these are to give us a right notion of each other's perfections, may appear from several considerations. There are many virtues, which, in their own nature, are incapable of any outward representation; many silent perfections in the soul of a good man, which are great ornaments to human nature, but not able to discover themselves to the knowledge of others; they are transacted in private without noise or show, and are only visible to the great Searcher of hearts. What actions can express the entire purity of thought which refines and sanctifies a virtuous man? that secret rest and contentedness of mind, which gives him a perfect enjoyment of his present condition! per through its outward actions, often sees it through a deceitful medium, which is apt to discolour and vert the object: so that on this account, also, He is the only proper judge of our perfections, who does not guess at the sincerity of our intentions from the goodness of our actions, but weighs the goodness of our actions by the sincerity of our intentions. But further, it is impossible for outward actions to represent the perfections of the soul, because they can never show the strength of those principles from whence they proceed. They are not adequate expressions of our virtues, and can only show us what habits are in the soul, without discovering the degree and perfection of such habits. They are, at best, but weak resemblances of our intentions, faint and imperfect copies, that may acquaint us with the general design, but can never express the beauty and life of the original. But the great Judge of ali to earth knows every different state and degree e human improvement, from those weak stirring, au tendencies of the will which have not yet re themselves into regular purposes and designs, to lea last entire finishing and consummation of habit. He beholds the first imperfect ru a virtue in the soul, and keps a watenit ←. it in all its progress, till it has received ever it is capable of, and appears in its íu. perfection. Thus we see, that non preme Being can esteem us accordian, merits, since all others must juug outward actions; which can neve. g. estimate of us, since there are mar man which are not capable of' apua. many which, allowing no mauris ant a sm ing themselves, want at opletshould they all meet wit ing by actions, yet tuum e |