Valuable when well-timed. He that eyes, did longer either the use or the matter of it. is dead, was alive; he that has lost his see; and, whatsoever is done, cannot be rendered undone. My friend, for instance, is taken by pirates; I redeem him; and, after that, he falls into other pirates hands; his obligation to me is the same still, as if he had preserved his freedom. And so, if I save a man from any one misfortune, and he falls into another; if I give him a sum of money, which is afterward taken away by thieves, it comes to the same case. Fortune may deprive us of the matter of a benefit, but the benefit itself remains inviolable. If the benefit resided in the matter, that which is good for one man, would be so for another; whereas many times the very same thing given to several persons, works contrary effects, even to the difference of life, or death; and that which is one body's cure, proves another body's poison. Beside that, the timeing of it alters the value; and a crust of bread, upon a pinch, is a greater present than an imperial crown. What is more familiar, than, in a battle, to shoot at an enemy and kill a friend? or, instead of a friend, to save an enemy? But yet this disappointment in the event does not at all operate upon the intention. What if a man cures me of a wen, with a stroke that was designed to cut off my head? or, with a malicious blow upon my stomach, breaks an impost Good will not always a benefit. hume? or, what if he saves my life with a draught that was prepared to poison me? the providence of the issue does not at all discharge the obliquity of the intent. And the same reason holds good even in religion itself: it is not the incense, or the offering, that is acceptable to God, but the purity and devotion of the worshipper. Neither is the bare will, without action, sufficient; that is, where we have the means of acting; for, in that case, it signifies as little to wish well, without well-doing, as to do good without willing it. Theré must be effect, as well as intention, to make me owe a benefit; but, to will against it, does wholly discharge it. In fine, the conscience alone is the judge, both of benefits and injuries. It does not follow now, because the benefit rests in the good will, that therefore the good will should be always a benefit; for if it be not accompanied with government and discretion, those offices, which we call benefits, are but the works of passion, or of chance; and, many times, the greatest of all injuries. One man does me good by mistake, another ignorantly, a third upon force, but none of these cases do I take to be an obligation; for they were neither directed to me, nor was there any kindness of intention. We do not thank the seas for the advantages we receive by navigation, or the rivers for supplying us with fish, and flowing of our grounds; we do not thank Choice of the Person a main Point. the trees, either for their fruits or shades; or the winds for a fair gale: and what's the difference betwixt a reasonable creature, that does not know, and an inanimate, that cannot ? A good horse saves one man's life, a good suit of arms another's, and a man, perhaps, that never intended it, saves a third. Where's the difference now betwixt the obligation of one, and of the other? A man falls into a river, and the fright cures him of an ague; we may call this a kind of lucky mischance, but not a remedy. And so it is with the good we receive, either without, or beside, or contrary to intention. It is the mind, and not the event, that distinguishes a benefit from an injury. THERE MUST BE JUDGMENT IN A BENEFIT, AS WELL AS MATTER AND INTENTION; AND ESPECIALLY IN THE CHOICE OF THE PERSON. As it is the will that designs the benefit, and the matter that conveys it, so it is the judgment that perfects it: which depends upon so many critical niceties, that the least error, either in the person, the matter, the manner, the quality, the quantity, the time, or the place, spoils all. The consideration of the person is a main point; for, we are to give by choice, and not by hazard. My inclination bids me oblige one man; I am bound in duty and justice to serve another; here Danger of misplacing a Benefit. it is charity, there it is pity; and elsewhere, perhaps, encouragement. There are some that want, to whom I would not give, because, if I did, they would want still. To one man I would barely offer a benefit; but, I would press upon another. * To say the truth, we do not employ any money to more profit, than that which we bestow; and it is not to our friends, our acquaintances, or countrymen, nor to this, or that condition of men, that we are to restrain our bounties; but, wheresoever there is a man there is a place, and occasion for a benefit. We give to some that are good already: to others, in hope to make them so; but we must do all with discretion. For, we are as well answerable for what we give, as for what we receive. Nay, the misplacing of a benefit is worse than the not receiving of it; for the one is another man's fault, but the other is mine. The error of the giver does oft-times excuse the ingratitude of the receiver; for a favour ill-placed is rather a profusion than a benefit. It is the most shameful of losses, an inconsiderate bounty. I will chuse a man of integrity, sincere, considerate, grateful, temperate, well-natured, neither covetous nor sordid, and, when I have obliged such a man, though not worth a groat in the world, I have gained my end. If we give, only to receive, we lose the fairest objects of our cha : the absent, the sick, the captive, and the Gratitude not certain. needy. When we oblige those that can never pay us again in kind, as a stranger upon his last farewel, or a necessitous person upon his death-bed, we make Providence our debtor, and rejoice in the conscience even of a fruitless benefit. So long as we are affected with passions, and distracted with hopes and fears, and (the most unmanly of vices) with our pleasures, we are incompetent judges where to place our bounties. But when death presents itself, and we come to our last will and testament, we leave our fortunes to the most worthy. He that gives nothing, but in hopes of receiving, must die intestate. It is the honesty of another man's mind that moves the kindness of mine; and I would sooner oblige a grateful man than an ungrateful: but this shall not hinder me from doing good also to a person that is known to be ungrateful; only with this difference, that I will serve the one in all extremities with my life and fortune, and the other, no further than stands with my convenience. But what shall I do, you will say, to know whether a man will be grateful or no? I will follow probability, and hope the best. He that sows is not sure to reap, nor the seaman to reach his port, nor the soldier to win the field; he that weds is not sure his wife shall be honest, or his children dutiful. But, shall we, therefore, neither sow, sail, bear arms, nor marry? Nay, if I knew a man to be incurably thank |