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enjoy their guilty fpoils in the fumes of strong waters and tobacco. The place of rendezvous is generally the vicinity of a mill, the proprietor of which, by affording to thefe wandering tribes an undisturbed asylum, not only fecures his property from their depredations, but, by the idle tales with which they contrive to amuse his ear, refpecting the characters and conduct of his neighbours, furnishes himself with new subjects of converfation for his next evening's coterie.
Minds that derive all their pleasures from the levity and mirth of promifcuous company, are feldom able to contribute, in any high degree, to their own amusement. Characters like these search every place for entertainment, except their own bofoms, and the bosoms of their surrounding families, where, by proper cultivation, real happiness, the happiness arising from Love and FRIENDSHIP, is alone capable of being found.
From Love and FRIENDSHIP, flowers of heav'nly feed,
The wife extract earth's most hyblean blifs,
Or fascination of a high born fmile.
Oh! fad mistake! Ye powers of wealth,
Can GOLD buy FRIENDSHIP? Impudence of hope!
The wearied pleasurift, finking under the weight that preys upon his fpirits, flies to scenes of public gaiety or private splendor, in fond, but vain, expectation, that they will difpel his dif content, and recreate his mind; but he finds, alas! that the fancied afylum affords him no reft. The ever-craving appetite for paftime grows by what it feeds on; and the worm, which devoured his delight amidst the sylvan scenery of Solitude, ftill accompanies him to crowded halls of elegance and feftivity. While he eagerly embraces every object that promises to fupply the direful vacancy of his mind, he exhausts its remaining strength; enlarges the wound he is so anxiously endeavouring to heal; and, by too eagerly grafping at the phantom Pleasure, lofes, perhaps for ever, the fubftantial power of being happy.
Men, whofe minds are capable of higher enjoyments, always feel these perturbed sensations, when, deluded into a fashionable party,
they find nothing to excite curiofity or intereft the feelings; and where they are pestered by the frivolous importunities of those for whom they cannot entertain either friendship or esteem. How, indeed, is it poffible for a fenfible mind to feel the flightest approbation, when a coxcomb, enamoured of his own eloquence, and fwoln with the pride of self-conceited merit, tires, by his loquacious nonfenfe, all around him.
The great LEIBNITZ * was observed by his fervant frequently to take notes while he fat in church, and the domeftic very rationally conceived that he was making obfervations on the fubject of the fermon; but it is more confiftent with the character of this philofopher to conclude, that he was indulging the powers of his
*William Godefroi, Baron de Leibnitz, the fon of Frederick Leibnitz, Profeffor of Moral Philofophy in the University of Leipfig, was born at Leipfig, in Saxony, on the 23d of June, 1646. He was one of those rare productions upon whom Nature had profufely bestowed her richest gifts. His capacious mind was faturated and adorned with every fpecies of literature. The arts and fciences were equally at his command. The poets, orators, hiftorians, lawyers, divines, philofophers, and mathematicians, furnished him with their choiceft ftores. He reconciled PLATO with ARISTOTLE, and ARISTOTLE with DES CARTES. But the ftudy of the law was his principal object, and in which he attained to an uncommon degree of excellence. He died on the 14th of November, 1716.
own capacious and excurfive mind, when those of the preacher ceased to intereft him. Thus it happens, that while the multitude are driven from Solitude to Society, by being tired of themfelves, there are some, and those not a few, who feek refuge in rational retirement from the frivolous diffipation of company.
An indolent mind is as irksome to itself as it is intolerable to others; but an active mind finds inexhauftible resources in its own power. The firft is forced to fly from itself for enjoyment; while the other calmly refigns itself to its own fuggeftions, and always meets with the happiness it has vainly fought for in its communion with the world.
-The man who confecrates his hours "By vig'rous effort and an honest aim, "At once draws out the sting of life and death, "And walks with Nature in the paths of Peace. "But thoughtlefs, giddy, inconsistent man, "Like children babbling nonsense in their sports, "Cenfures kind Nature for a span too short, "And feels the span fo fhort quite tedious too; "Tortures invention; all expedient tires "To lafh the ling'ring moments into speed, "And whirl them, happy riddance! from them felves."*
"Quite jaded with protracted amufements," fays a celebrated moral writer, "we yawn over them. The dull drone of
To roufe the foul from that lethargy into which its powers are so apt to drop from the tediousness of life, it is necessary to apply a stimulus both to the head and to the heart. Something must be contrived to strike the fenfes and intereft the mind. But it is much more difficult to convey pleasure to others than to receive it ourselves; and while the many wait in anxious hope of being entertained, they find but few who
" nominal diverfion ftill hums on when the short tune of en"joyment is over. Like the bear in the fable, we hug our "darling to death. Instead of rejoicing in tribulation, we "forrow in delight: for this eternal round of vanities is trod "lefs for the pleasure it brings than for the pain it fufpends. "It is a refuge, not a prize. Like criminals, we fly to it "from our much-injured, unfortunate foes, oURSELVES, "which chide and fting us when alone: when together, we "fupport each others fpirits; which is like failors clinging "to each other for fafety when the vessel is finking. In the "boundless field of licentioufness, some bastard joys may "rife that look gay, more especially at a distance; but they "foon wither. No joys are always fweet, and flourish long, "but such as have self-approbation for their root, and the di"vine favour for their shelter: but we are for joys of our own "creation, the feeds of which heaven never fowed in our "hearts. But we may as well invade another prerogative of "heaven, and, with the tyrant of Elis, pretend to make thun"der and lightning as real joy. I fay real joy; for joy we "may make, but not cheerfulness. Joy may fubfift without "thought; Cheerfulness will frame it. Joy is from the pulse; "Cheerfulness from the heart. THAT may give a momentary " flash of pleafure; THIS alone makes a happy man.”