felicity in the life to come. The greatest outward blessings cannot afford enjoyment to a mind ruffled and uneasy within itself. A fit of ill-humour will spoil the finest entertainment, and is as real a torment as the most painful disease. Another unavoid. able consequence of ill-temper, is the dislike and aversion of all who are witnesses to it, and, perhaps, the deep and lasting resentment of those who suffer from its effects. We all, from social or self-love, earnestly desire the esteem and affection of our fellow-creatures; and indeed our condition makes them so necessary to us, that the wretch who has forfeited them, must feel desolate and undone, deprived of all the best enjoyments and comforts the world can afford, and given up to his inward misery, unpitied and scorned. But this can never be the fate of a good-natured person: whatever faults he may have, they will generally be treated with lenity; he will find an advocate in every human heart; his errors will be lamented, rather than abhorred; and his virtues will be viewed in the fairest point of light. His good-humour, without the help of great talents or acquirements, will make his company preferable to that of the most brilliant genius, in whom this quality is wanting; in short, it is almost impossible that you can be sincerely beloved by any body, without this engaging property, whatever other excellencies you may possess; but, with it, you will scarcely fail of finding some friends and favourers, even though you should be destitute of almost every other advantage.

Perhaps you will say, "All this is very true, but "our tempers are not in our own power; we are "made with different dispositions, and, if mine is "not amiable, it is rather my unhappiness than my "fault." This, my dear, is commonly said by those who will not take the trouble to correct themselves; yet, be assured, it is a delusion, and will not avail in our justification before Him, "who knoweth whereof "we are made," and of what we are capable.It is true, we are not all equally happy in our dispositions: but human virtue consists in cherishing

and cultivating every good inclination, and in check ing and subduing every propensity to evil. If, you had been born with a bad temper, it might have been made a good one, at least with regard to its outward effects, by education, reason, and principle: and, though you are so happy as to have a good one while young, do not suppose it will always continue so, if you negled to maintain a proper command over it. Power, sickness, disappointments, or worldly cares, may corrupt and embitter the finest disposition, if they are not counteracted by reason and religion.

It is observed, that every temper is inclined, in some degree, either to passion, peevishness, or obstinacy: many are so unfortunate as to be inclined to each of the three in turn: it is necessary, therefore, to watch the bent of our nature, and to apply the remedies proper for the infirmity to which we are most liable. With regard to the first, it is so injurious to society, and so odious in itself, especially in the female character, that, one would think, shame alone would be sufficient to preserve a young woman from giving way to it: for, it is as unbecoming her character, to be betrayed into ill-behaviour by passion, as by intoxication; and she ought to be ashamed of the one, as much as of the other. Gentleness, meekness, and patience, are her peculiar distinctions; and an enraged woman is one of the most disgusting sights in nature.

It is plain, from experience, that the most pas sionate people can command themselves, when they have a motive sufficiently strong;-such as the presence of those they fear, or to whom they particularly desire to recommend themselves: it is, therefore, no excuse to persons, whom you have injured by unkind reproaches, and unjust aspersions, to tell them you was in a passion; the allowing yourself to speak to them in a passion, is a proof of an insolent disrespect, which the meanest of your fellowcreatures would have a right to resent. When once you find yourself heated so far as to desire to say what you know would be provoking and wounding

to another, you should immediately resolve either to be silent, or to quit the room, rather than give utterance to any thing dictated by so bad an inclination. Be assured, you are then unfit to reason or to reprove, or to hear reason from others. It is, therefore, your part to retire from such an occasion of sin; and wait till you are cool, before you presume to judge of what has passed. By accustoming yourself thus to conquer and disappoint your anger, you will, by degrees, find it grow weak and manageable, so as to leave your reason at liberty. You will be able to restrain your tongue from evil, and your looks and gestures from all expressions of violence and ill-will. Pride, which produces so many evils in the human mind, is the great source of passion. Whoever cultivates in himself a proper humility, a due sense of his own faults and insufficiencies, and a due respect for others, will find but small temptation to violent or unreasonable

anger.

In the case of real injuries, which justify and call for resentment, there is a noble and generous kind of anger, a proper and necessary part of our nature, which has nothing in it sinful or degrading. I would not wish you insensible to this: for, the, person who feels not an injury, must be incapable of being properly affected by benefits. With those who treat you ill without provocation, you ought to maintain your own dignity: but, in order to do this, whilst you shew a sense of their improper behaviour, you must preserve calmness, and even good breeding,-and thereby conviuce them of the. impotence as well as injustice of their malice. You must also weigh every circumstance with candour and charity, and consider whether your shewing the resentment deserved, may not produce il conse quences to innocent persons,-as is almost always the case in family quarrels; and whether it may not occasion the breach of some duty, or necessary connection, to which you ought to sacrifice even your just resentments. Above all things, take care, that a particular offence to you, does not make you

unjust to the general character of the offending person. Generous anger does not preclude esteem for whatever is really estimable, nor does it destroy good-will to the person of its object: It even inspires the desire of overcoming him by benefits, and wishes to inflict no other punishment than the regret of having injured one who deserved his kindness: it is always placable, and ready to be reconciled, as soon as the offender is convinced of his error; nor can any subsequent injury provoke it to recur to past disobligations, which had been once forgiven. -But it is, perhaps, unnecessary to give rules for this case. The consciousness of injured innocence naturally produces dignity, aud usually prevents excess of anger. Our passion is most unruly, when we are conscious of blame, and when we apprehend that we have laid ourselves open to contempt. Where we know we have been wrong, the least injustice in the degree of blame imputed to us, excites our bitterest resentment: but where we know ourselves faultless, the sharpest accusation excites pity or contempt rather than rage. Whenever, therefore, you feel yourself very angry, suspect yourself to be in the wrong, and resolve to stand the decision of your own conscience before you cast upon another the punishment, which is, perhaps, due to yourself. This self-examination will at least give you time to cool, and, if you are just, will dispose you to balance your own wrong with that of your antagonist, and to settle the account with him on equal terms.

Peevishness, though not so violent and fatal in its" immediate effects, is still more unamiable than passion, and, if possible, more destructive of happiness, inasmuch as it operates more continually. Though the fretful man injures us less, he disgusts us more than the passionate one;-because he be trays a low and little mind, intent on trifles, and engrossed by a paltry self-love; which knows not how to bear the very apprehension of any inconvenience. It is self-love, then, which we must combat, when we find ourselves assaulted by this infirmity;

and, by voluntarily enduring inconveniencies, we shall habituate ourselves to bear them with ease and good-humour, when occasioned by others. Perhaps this is the best kind of religious mortification, as the chief end of denying ourselves any innocent indulgences must be to acquire a habit of command over our passions and inclinations, particularly such as are likely to lead us into evil. Another method of conquering this enemy, is to abstract our minds from that attention to trifling circumstances, which usually creates this uneasiness. Those who are engaged in high and important pursuits, are very little affected by small inconveniences. The man whose head is full of studions thought, or whose heart is full of care, will eat his dinner without knowing whether it was well or ill dressed, or whether it was served punctually at the hour or not: and .though absence from the common things of life is far from desirable,-especially in a woman, yet too minute and anxious an attention to them seldom fails to produce a teasing, mean, and fret. ful disposition. I would, therefore, wish your mind always to have in pursuit some object worthy of it, that it may not be engrossed by such as are, in themselves, scarcely worth a moment's anxiety. It is chiefly in the decline of life, when amusements fail, and when the more importunate passions subside, that this infirmity is observed to grow upon us:

and perhaps it will seldom fail to do so, unless carefully watched, and counteracted by reason. We must, then, endeavour to substitute some pursuits in the place of those, which can only engage us in the beginning of our course. The pursuit of glory and happiness in another life, by every means of improving and exalting our own minds, becomes more and more interesting to us, the nearer we draw to the end of all sublunary enjoyments. Reading, reflection, rational conversation, and, above all, conversing with God, by prayer and meditation, may preserve us from taking that anxious interest in the little comforts and conveniences of our remaining days, which usually gives birth to so much fretful.