makes me hope you will gain, both for yourself and me, an immortal reputation. But before I invite you into my society and friendship, I will be open and sincere with you; and must lay this down as an established truth, that there is nothing truly valuable, which can be purchased without pains and labour. The Gods have set a price upon every real and noble pleasure. If you would gain the favour of the Deity, you must be at the pains of wor shipping him; if the friendship of good men, you must study to oblige them; if you would be honoured by your country, you must take care to serve it; in short, if you would be eminent in war or peace, you must become master of all the qualifications that can make you so. These are the only terms and conditions upon which I can propose happiness." The Goddess of Pleasure here broke in upon her discourse: "You see," said she, "Hercules, by her own confession, the way to her pleasures is long and difficult; whereas that which I propose is short and easy." "Alas!" said the other lady, whose visage glowed with passion, made up of scorn and pity, "what are the plea sures you propose? To eat before you are hungry, drink before you are athirst, sleep before you are tired; to gratify appetites before they are raised, and raise such appetites as nature never planted. You never heard the most delicious music, which is the praise of one's-self; nor saw the most beautiful object, which is the work of one's own hands. Your votaries pass away their youth in a dream of mistaken pleasures; while they are hoarding up anguish, torment, and remorse, for old age. "As for me, I am the friend of Gods and of good men; an agreeable companion to the artisan; an household guardian to the fathers of families; a patron and protector of servants; an associate in all true and generous friendships. The banquets of my votaries are never costly, but always delicious; for none eat or drink at them, who are not invited by hunger and thirst. Their slumbers are sound, and their wakings cheerful. My young men have the pleasure of hearing themselves praised by those who are in years; and those who are in years, of being honoured by those who are young. In a word, my followers are favoured by the Gods, beloved by their acquaintance, esteemed by their country, and, after the close of their labours, honoured by posterity." " We know, by the life of this memorable hero, to which of these two ladies he gave up his heart; and, I believe, every one who reads this, will do him the justice to approve his choice. Tatler. $ 89. On Entrance into Life, and the Conduct of early Manhood. There seems to be a peculiar propriety in addressing moral precepts to the rising generation. Besides that, like travellers entering on a journey, they want direction, there are circumstances which render it probable that instruction will be more efficacious in youth than at a maturer period. Long habits of business or pleasure, and an indiscriminate intercourse with mankind, often superinduce a great degree of insensibility; and the battered veteran at last considers the admonitions of the moralist as the vain babbling of a sophist, and the declamation of a schoolboy. The keen edge of moral perception is blunted by long and reiterated collision; and to him who has lost the finer sensibilities, it is no less fruitless to address a moral discourse than to represent to the deaf the charms of melody, or to the blind the beauties of a picture. But youth possesses sensibility in perfection; and unless education has been totally neglected, or erroneously pursued, its habits are usually virtuous. Innocence leaves the mind at liberty, in early youth, to soar after every thing which is generous, noble, or sublime, in morals and intellectuals. Furnished with a natural suscep tibility, and free from any acquired impediment, the mind is then in the most favourable state for the admission of instruction, and for learning how to live. I will, then, suppose a young man present who has passed through the forms of a liberal education at school, and who is just entering on the stage of life, to act his part according to his own judgment. I will address him with all the affection and sincerity of a parent, in the following manner: “You have violent passions implanted "in you by Nature for the accomplish"ment of her purposes; but conclude 66 not, as many have done to their ruin,that "because they are violent, they are "irresistible. The same Nature which "establishing it as an unquestionable 66 66 66 66 "ance. 66 66 Far more "companied with shame. 66 66 66 "life. Begin, then, with most sincerely wishing to conquer those subtle and "powerful enemies whom you carry in your bosom. Pray for Divine assistAvoid solitude the first mo"ment a loose thought insinuates itself, "and hasten to the company of those "whom you respect. Converse not on subjects which lead to impure ideas. "Have courage to decline reading im"moral books, even when they fall into your hands. If, at a proper age, you "form a strong attachment to a virtuous woman, dare, with the sanction of parental approbation, to marry. It is "tinguished libertine. Preserve your "better to be poor than wicked. Cherish" principles, and be steady in your con"the object of your early love. Be in“dustrious, and trust in Providence. 66 "But really you have not so much to "fear from the violence of the concupisci"ble affections, when unassisted by volun"tary compliance, as from vanity. The "perverse ambition of arriving at the "character of a man of spirit by vicious "audacity, has of late universally prevail"ed, and has ruined a great part of the "rising generation. I have known many young men proud of the impurest distempers, and boasting of misfortunes "which are attended with the greatest ed. The bulwark of virtue, which "pain and misery, and ought to be ac- "stood firmly against the weapons of 66 66 Let that generous courage which "conscious rectitude inspires, enable you to despise and neglect the assaults of "ridicule. When all other modes of "attack have failed, ridicule bas succeed 46 argument, has tottered on its basis, or "fallen to the ground, touched by the "wand of magic ridicule. In the school, "in the college, in the world at large, it "is the powerful engine which is used to "level an exalted character. You will infallibly be attacked with it, if you are in any respects singular; and singu"lar in many respects you must be, if you are eminently virtuous. 66 66 66 66 "manners, let the beautiful Christian graces of Meekness and Benevolence "shine most conspicuous. Relieve dis"tress, prevent mischief, and do good, "wherever you can; but be neither "ostentatious nor censorious. 66 "Be cheerful, and gratefully enjoy the good which Providence has bestowed upon you. But be moderate. Mode"ration is the law of enjoyment. All be"Love truth, and dare to speak it at "yond is nominal pleasure and real pain. "all events. The man of the world will "I will not multiply my precepts. "tell you, you must dissemble; and so "Choose good books, and follow their "you must, if your objects and pursuits "direction. Adopt religious, virtuous, 66 are like his, mean and selfish. But "manly principles. Fix them deeply in with you your purposes are generous; and your your bosom, and let them go "methods of obtaining them are therefore "unloosened and unaltered to the grave. "If undisguised. You mean well. Avow you follow such advice as, from "your meaning, if honour requires the "the pure motive of serving you most "avowal, and fear nothing. You will," essentially, I have given you, I will not, "indeed, do right to wish to please; but "indeed, promise that you shall not be you will be anxious to please the worthy "unfortunate, according to the common only, and none but worthy actions will "idea of the word; but I will confidently "effect that purpose. With respect to "assure you, that you shall not be un"that art of pleasing which requires the happy. I will not promise you worldly "sacrifice of your sincerity, despise it, "success, but I will engage that shall as the base quality of flatterers, syco"deserve it, and shall know how to bear phants, cheats, and scoundrels. An "its absence." Knox's Essays. "habitual liar, besides that he will be “known and marked with infamy, must § 90. On the Wisdom of aiming at 66 66 66 66 66 66 66 66 possess a poor and pusillanimous heart; "for lying originates in cowardice. It originates also in fraud; and a liar, "whatever may be his station, would certainly, if he were sure of secrecy, be a thief. Sorry am I to say, that this "habit is very common in the world, even among those who make a figure "in the realms of dissipation; those "whose honour would compel them to "stab you to the heart, if you were to "tell them plainly the mortifying truth, "that you convict them of a lie. 66 66 morose. 66 With all your good qualities unite "the humility of a Christian. Be not Be cautious of overvaluing "yourself. Make allowances for the "vices and errors which you will daily 66 see. Remember that all have not had "the benefit of moral instruction; that a great part of mankind are in effect "orphans turned loose into the wide world, without one faithful friend to give them advice; left to find their 66 own way in a dark and rugged wilder66 ness, with snares, and quicksands, and "chasms around them. Be candid, “therefore, and, among all the improve"ments of education and refinements of 66 66 Man is, indeed, a weak creature; but he is also an improveable creature. has strong passions; but he has also strong powers within him to counteract their operation. He possesses reason; and his happiness certainly depends upon the voluntary use or abuse, the neglect or the exertion, of this noble faculty. It seems probable that many who urge the inefficacy of philosophical and moral precepts are only endeavouring to excuse their own indolence. They who feel themselves little inclined to correct their misconduct, are very solicitous to persuade themselves that, from the inherent and general imbecility of human nature, they are unable. Indeed, wherever human creatures are G found, there are also to be found vice and misery. Nor is this appearance only among the rude and the illiterate, but among those who are adorned with all the arts of human knowledge. Observation affords many examples of those, who, after having recommended virtue in the most forcible manner, with all the appearance of sincerity, have at last fallen into the disgrace and wretchedness of singular profligacy. Contrary to their conviction, their interest, their character, to all that seemed estimable in their own eyes, they have descended from the towering heights of virtue into the lowest abysses of vice. Such instances do, indeed, sometimes occur, and they are usually blazoned and exaggerated by triumphant delinquency. In many cases of degeneracy, it is probable that the appearances of virtue were insincere. But allowing, what indeed the uniform decisions of observation, reason, and religion, clearly declare, that human nature is weak in the extreme, yet I would draw a different conclusion from that which is deduced by the patrons of libertinism. The nature of man is extremely infirm, it is granted; and therefore, I argue, let every effort be made to acquire new strength and resolution. It cannot be said that the endeavour must of necessity be abortive; it cannot be said that we have not natural incitements sufficient to encourage a vigorous attempt. We have nice sensibilities of moral rectitude, we have a natural love of excellence, we have intellectual powers capable of infinite improvement, we have precepts innumerable; and to the honour of human nature, let it be added, that examples also greatly abound. Many individuals who enrolled themselves among the severer sects of ancient philosophy,have exhibited most animating proofs of the strength of human nature. It is not to be supposed that they possessed faculties more in number, or more perfect in their kind, than the present But they loved excellence, and they believed that they were capable of t. That belief operated most favourably on their exertion. They succeeded in their attempts, and stand forth among ankind like colossal statues amid a collection of images less than the life. race. I hope, therefore, it will be rendering an effectual service to mankind, if I can revive among the gay and careless this belief of the possibility of great advances What is done in the works of art may often be effected in morals. Were a musical instrument to be placed in the hands of a peasant who had never heard or seen one, and were he told that he might, if he were to attend to it, call forth sounds from it which would delight every hearer, he would not be induced by any argument to believe the possibility of it. Yet let him regularly learn and practise a due time, and he will arrive at a degree of skill, which, though far from perfection, will appear miraculous on comparison with his original inability. So in life, if you inform your disciple that he is able to reach a great degree of excellence, and urge him to the attempt, he will infallibly make great advances, and improve to his own astonishment. But indulge his natural indolence, timidity, or despair, by expatiating on the irremediable weakness of human nature, and you effectually preclude even his endeavours, and add to his natural imbecility by paralysing his original vigour. In the works of art, in sculpture, and in painting, in the subordinate operations of mechanical ingenuity, to what perfection does the hand of man attain? When a savage sees a watch, he adores it as a No earnestness of assertion would god. convince him that it was the work of a creature in all respects like himself, except in acquired dexterity. And can man improve himself so highly in the manual arts, in science, and in the productions of taste, and be unable to arrive at real and solid improvement in the finest art and the noblest science, the art and the science of conducting life? Half the attention and the constancy which is displayed in acquiring skill in an occupation by which money is to be gained, if bestowed on the melioration of the morals, would usually produce a most laudable character. The state of things is so constituted, that labour, well bestowed and properly directed,always produces a valuable effect. That it should find its reward, even in this world, seems to be the decree of Providence. Away, then, with the philosophy which increases the weakness of our nature by representing it as insuperable. Our personal excellence and happiness, our friends and our country, are greatly interested in exploding the pusillanimous doctrine. We shall, indeed, often fall; but let us rise undejected. Our failings will be great, but great also may be our virtues. At least, according to an old and just observation, by aiming at absolute perfection, we shall approach it much more nearly than if we sit down inactive through despair. The modern philosophers and their disciples, while they assert the inefficacy of philosophy, of moral precepts, and of religious influence, are inclined to maintain, that the effect which these only pretend to produce may be actually produced by the principle of modern honour. I would only, in reply to their insinuation, ask them these questions: Who are the persons who openly and proudly commit deeds at which the child of nature, even the savage would shudder; who is guilty of the meanest, cruellest seduction; who wears a sword ready to plunge it into the heart of his dearest friend for a trifling provocation; who is ready to glory in breaking the peace of conjugal life, and ruining a family for the gratification of lust or vanity? Unerring experience replies, Men of Honour; all, all, honourable men. From such delusion let the untainted mind of youth hasten to escape. To religion and morality let it fly for solid comfort, and for those assistances which alone can repair the ruins that have been made by the fall of Adam in the glorious fabric of human nature. With our utmost endeavours, both reason and divinity inform us we shall be at last greatly defective. Whither, then, shall we fly To argue against pleasure in general is absurd. It is the law of nature, that every animal should prefer the agreeable sensations to the disagreeable. But it is incumbent on the moralist to explode those pleasures, which, though they are transient and unsatisfactory in themselves, are yet found ultimately to occasion permanent pain and real injury. Perhaps the most effectual mode of accomplishing this purpose, is not to arraign pleasure in general, but to substitute other pleasures in the place of those which are hurtful. Man must be amused and delighted; and pernicious amusements and poisoned delights will be pursued, if others cease to be obvious. It is certain that nature has interspersed a great number of objects capable of affording the liveliest delight, without danger of future pain, and even with the probability of deriving improvement and additional pleasure by reflecting on the past enjoyment. Such, indeed, are those innocent pleasures which we follow in early youth with cheerful ardour, and which we enjoy with sincere delight, before we are vitiated and hardened by a long intercourse with a depraved world; before the qualities of the dove are exchanged for the less amiable wisdom of the serpent. We Amidst all the improvements which we make in a state of high civilization, we lose some natural tastes and propensities which were favourable to virtue. acquire wants and notions which disturb our repose, and cause a feverish anxiety, ever thirsting, and never satisfied. The simple and innocent satisfactions of nature are usually within reach; and, as they excite no violent perturbation in the pursuit, so are they enjoyed without tumult, and relinquished without long or painful regret. It will, then, render es sential service both to happiness and morality, if we can persuade men in general to taste and to contract an habitual |