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PIECES IN PROSE AND VERSE; SELECTED FROM THE BEST WRITERS: • 0CSIONBD TO ASSIST TOUNO PERSONS TO READ WITH FROPEISTt AND effect; to improve THEIR LANGUAGE AND 8BNTI- MBNTS, AND TO INCULCATE SOME CF THE MOST IMPOR- TANT PRINCIPLES OF FIBTT AND YIRTUB. « BY LINDLEY MURRAY, Author of " An English Orammar," &c. ke. TO WHirH ARE PREFIXED, 'VHE DEFINITIONS OF INFLECTIONS AND EMPHASES, AND RULES FOR READING VERSE, WITH A KEY, 'W BIBITINO THE METHOD OF APPLTINO THOSE PRINCIPLB8 TO raONUNCIATION OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. THE INFLBCTIOHI, AS WELL A8 EMPHASES, ARE ALSO ACTUA|.LT APPLIED, BT 8BN8IBLR CHARACTERS, A.\n AGMBEABLY VO TCIB DI- BBCTIOir^ C6»St\^ ^v. ic- II 3.0 sv selections of excellent matter have been made for the benefit of persons. Performances of this kind are of so great utility, thpl roductions of them, and new attempts to improve the young mind| arcely be deemed superfluous, if the writer make his compilation in» ive and interesting, and sufficiently distiiict from others. present work, as the title expresses, aims at the attainment of ibjecls: to improve youih in the art of reading; to meliorate their lire and sentiments ; and to inculcate some of the most important pies of pielv and virtue. pieces selected, not only give exercise to a great variety of emo- nd the correspondent tones and variations of voice, but contain sen- and members of sentences, whicli are diversified, proportioned, and " with accuracy. Exercises of this nature are, it is presumed, well ted to teach youth to read with propriety and effect. A selection ences, in which variety and proportion, with exact punctuation, ?cn carefully observed, in all l.ieir parts as well as with respect to ither, will j)robably have a mufh greater efl'uct, hi properly teaching of reading, than is comnioniy imajiined. In such constructions, ig is accommodated to tlio undnrslandingand the voice; and the difhculiics in learning to read well are obviated. When the has acquired a habit of reading such sentences with justness and he will readily apply that habit, and the improvements he hu sentences more complicated and irregular, and of a constructioa different. language of the pienog chosen for this collection has been carefully Purity, propriety, perspicuity, and, in many instances, clega"™"** , distinguish them. They arc extracted from the works r . .^ rect and elegant writers. From the sources whence the •"* > e drawn, the reader may expect to tind lij-jni connected and s iently important and impressive, and d.vc "Md of every ihinj c^.H trite or eccentric. The frequent pen >iaV of such compo: *lim tends to infuse a taste for lias spccijg of c xcellence ; a< ;?*o I habit of thiiikmg, and of composing, wlii judgment and .'^> [learner, in his progress through this volume t nd tha Sequel to It, TlH numerous instances ofconiposition, in sirici c^aformity to the r '19 nting pcrspiciions and elee-iir.t w.itini; contained in the Appensli vO jr's English Gramtnar. BynfoasiaiiaMycxani.ningtius conform "'» confirniPil in live utility of those rules ; and ba enabled to ap y li ease; and ilextcrity, iipor fm-tlior to olisprvc, tli.it the Pioader and the Sfi'iuel, besk "1 lo read aocnrar.oly, anil inruicntinfr many impottinl se!S.inicnt<>, m .' ItM'cd ass an.viruirics to the Author's Kne'ish Graimiiai? as pracUib 3 Ins ol'ilie prlncipies and rnU'n routainpU in ihat WKl|» o O 30 v^ • I - '^ • ** PREFAC A ^ ^, •»^ V C» ^ ^ i That tnis collection mtiy also serve the purpose of promoting piety I virtue, the Comftiler has introduced many extracts, which place reli^ in the most amiable light; and which recommend a great variety of n)(| ''Hl'v^duties, by the excellence of their nature, and the happy effects they p duce. Thuso subjects are exhibited in a style and manner which are < culated to arrest the !>,ttention of youth ; and to make strong and dun impressions on their minds.'*' The Compiler has been careful to avoid every expression and sentin that niigltt gratify a corrupt mind, or, in the least desree, otfend thoj or ear of innocence. This he conceives to be peculiarly incumbenr every person who writes for the benefit of youth. It would indeed f great and happy improvement in edu(;iition,if no writings were allowd come under their notice, but such as are perfectly innocent; and ifc proper occasions, they were encouraged to peruse those which tend t| spire a duo reverence for virtue, and an abhorrence of vice, as well i" animate them with sentiments uf piety and goodness. Such impres^ deeply engraven on their minds, and connected with all their attainm could scarcely fail of attending them through life, and of producing i •idity of principle and character, that would be able to resist the dal arising from future intercourse with the world. The Author has endeavoured to relieve the grave and serious paj his collection, by the occasional admission of pieces which amuse asl as instruct. If, however, any of his readers should think it contair |;reat a proportion of the former, it tiay be some apology to observe! tn the exi:iting publications designed for the perusal of you^g peracrJ prepondeiance is greatly on the side of gay and amusing productions.! inuch attention may be paid to this medium of improvement. Whe| nnagmation. oi' youth especially, is much entertained, the sober dicta the understanding are regarded with indifference ; and the influen good afiecUons is either feeble, or transient. A temperate use of sucj tertainment seems therefore requisite, to afford proper scope for the ( Uons of the understanding and the heart. The reader will perceive, that the Compiler has been solicitous I commend to young persons, the perusal of the sacred Scriptures, byl spersing through his work some of the most beautiful and mterestini sages of those invaluable writings. To excite an early taste and va taon for this great rule of life, is a point of so high importance, as toj rant the attempt to promote it on every proper occasion. L To improve the young mind, and to affora some assistance to tutl the arduous and important work of education, were the motives whf to this production. If the Author should be so successful as to accoi these ends, even in a small degree, he will think that his time ondf have been well employed, and will deem himself amply rewarded. * In some of the pieces, the Compiler has niade a few alterations, | recbal, to adapt them the belter to the design of his work. '\ ADVERTISEMENT of promoting piety i , which place relij great variety of mo lappy effects they p manner which are i ik9 atrong and dunpprHE author of the application of the Inflections, &c. to the col ition of reading lessons in Murray's English Reader, has, with ly others of his profession, borne testimony to the excellency of |t work, by making it an almost exclusive reading book in his ool for nearly fidcen years. Indeed, public taste has deter- ed the merits of the English Reader, by pronouncing it the best k of the kind now in use. No reading book in the English guage, has a more unlimited circulation, or has done more to ance th^ art of reading. The writer, however, always sup- led the work imperfect ; in as much as Mr. Murray's strictures correct reading arc too abstruse and difficult for the j^enerality piipils ; and none of his principles applied to practice ; they reK>re remained as mere inoperative precepts, without the force examples. The subscriber has endeavoured to remedy this *ect in the work, by applying the acknowledged principles of ution, by sensible characters, to most of the pieces in the coU tion ; and he has also furnished a Key, for the benefit of the pupil, a! of youj^ peracrAiibiting those principles, by rules and examples, and illustrating lusing productions.^ manner of applying them to practice. The learner, by con- ting this Key, will soon be enabled to extend the principles to eral reading ; — for this purpose, let him, in the outset, compare mtcnded lesson with the rules and examples furnished in the y, and, with a pencil, make the req^uisite cliaractcr ; this exer -hei I soon make him master of the principles, and the mode of ap- ing them. These principles will enable him to impart to ha- ding, the greatest precision, harmony, force, and variety, and e a finishing polish to his style of delivery, "he work has now received its utmost perfection, and wears the mp of its highest cxcell:j»iue. Mr. Murray's selections have n kept entire, and his order of arrangement scrupulously pre- ed ; for in these respects no writer could have been more for- ate. The book is, in short, what it always has been, the Eng- li Reader, with the addition of the principles of Elocution, dic- ing the precise manner of reading Us contents. It is therefore mbly but confidently submitted to the favour of a discriminating iblic, by that public's devoted servant, M. R. BARTLETT. Xltiea, May 1, 1823. >ression and sentii desrce, otfend the icuriarly incumbeni It would indeed Tilings were allowi innocent; and ifc those which tend ti of vice, as well ess. Such impres! th all their attainroj and of producing tie to resist the di vsed of two wonls or members a sentence, which^thoui^h not i)crfectly similar, are suffi- ?ntly so to admit ot classification. IRiTLE 1. — All the compound momhers which form the >mmencin^ series, take the ^ inflection, except the last, lich takes the ' infiection. \Exami)le. — The whole system of the infellectual powers\ chaos and the creati/<;.— Notwithstanding' all the ptiins which^icero )k in the education of his son, he nevertheless remained a ;re blockhead. Nature rendered him incapable of impro- i^ by all the rules of eloquence\ the precepts of philosophy\ fblher's endeavours', and the most re&ied society of |hens\ ^-. EXCEPTION. ^he only exception to the above rule is, when the sen- dee commences with a conditional or suppositivc phrase; lin that case ihe members Uike the ' inflection. 'Examples. — Whatever contributes to promote the nilftci- I of virtue, and strengthen the bonds of brothernood^ itever tends to calm the rulHed feeling, and regulate thtt is undoubtedly a source of happiness^ sions', oX^^ 10 A KEY. So, when the faithful pencil has design'd Some bright idea of the master's mind' ; When a new world leaps out at his command' And ready Nature waits upon his hand'; When the ripe colours soften and unite', And sweetly melt into just siiades anc' li^ht' ; When mellowing years their full perfection give » And each bold figure just begins to live' ; The treachero;is colours the fair art betray', And all tiie bright creation fades away\ SERIES 01 SER1ESES.' Definition. — Two or more simple particulars, combinec wtli two or more compound particulars, and all united ii forming an independent member of a sentence, coustituttj what is termed a series of serieses. General Rule.— When several compound members o© i cur, composed of similar or opposite particulars, and forminj^ a simple series, they may be divided according to their na | tures iiito couplets or triplets, and pronounced, singly ac ' cording to tlie appropriate rule of tne simple series; but d ' together agreeably to the number of compound particulars iij the Avhole period, and according to the appropriate rule c* the compound series. Example.— For I am persuaded, that neither life', nori death^; nor angels\ nor principalities,' nor powers^; na* things present', nor things to come^ ; nor height,' nor depth' nor any other creature', shall be able to separate me fron'' lije love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord\ THE DASH* General Rule. — To these members of a sentence sepag nted by the Dash, the same inflections must be applied, acj cording to their nature, a« wc aid be applied were the par ' set off by any other points. Example.— In general, the manners of Mr. Henry wen those of the i)lain Virginian gentleman^— kind^ — open' — caii did'— and conciliating^— warm without insincerity'— and poM adopt, i lite without pomp'^ — neither chilling by his reserve' — nor km tions. tigu'ng by his loquacity^ — but adapting himself without eflbfl turns, to tlie character of his company^ ^ Exa) the da on drei gionoi (lelliili INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES. Rule 1.— Those interrogative sentences which are < menced with a verb, always adopt the ' inflection. Examples.— Is justice lame among us, my f-iend, as as blind' ? Can he exalt his thoughts to any thing ^eat an end or will tht ffightet » • A KEY. Jl nand' on give » •ay', lars, combinec d all united ii ice, constitute: d members oc ! rs, and forming ! ig to their na !ed, singly ac | series; butaf d particulars u ropriate rule c| either life', nol r powers^; noii ht/ nor depth I jarate me fm\ Lord\ n I sentence sepa; be applied, ac I were the part;f r. Henry wenf d^— open'— caM cerity'— and w I •eserve' — nor L elf without efld which are c ection. ly iViend, as ' thing great ai m noble, who believes that, after a short turn upon the stage 0/ this world, he is to sink for ever into ob'ivion' ? Rule 2.— Those interrogative sentences that commence with a verb which is followed hy the disjunctive conjunction or, adoptiS, at the close of the hrst part, the ' inflection, aiul at the end of the second, the ^ inflection. Examples.ShnW we, in your person, crown the author of the public calamity', or shall v/c destroy him\'' Will the trials of this lile continue for ever', or will time finally dissir pate them^ ? Rule 3.- -Those interrogative sentences that commence with the interrogative pronoun or adverb, always close whh the ^ inflection. Examples.— Who will take the trouble of ansAvering these questions^ ? How will he collect the necessary evidence^ ? Whence derive his authorities^ ? When adjust all the con- tending points^ ? Rule 4. — When the interrogative sentence consists of se- veral members followinff in succesfiioii, commencing with a pronoun o" adverb, all those members adopt the ^ inflection, save the penultimate, which takes the ' innection. Example.— Where can he find such cogent exhortations to the pnictice of virtue^ ; such strong excitements to piety and holiness^ ; and, at the same time, such assistance in at- taining them'', as are contained in the Holy Bible^ ? Rule 5. — When the interrogative sentence commences with a verb, and consists of several succeeding member they all adopt the ' inflection. Example. — Would an infinitely Avise being make such a glorious creature as man, lor so mean a purpose'? can he (lelliiht hi the production of such abortive inteihgences', siic'i short-lived rational beings'? Avould he aive him talents that are not to be exerted', and capacities that are not to be grati- fied'? Rule 6.— When the intern)gative sentence presents a combination of particulars, forming a series of serieses, they adopt, according to their natures, both the ' and the ^ inflec- tions. The last mem her, however, iijion which the question turns, must ahvays have the ' inflection. Example.— \)o you imagine the hours Avasted in idle prate , the days devoted to vain aniusements\ the Aveeks lavished on dress and parade\ and the months squandered without end or aini', are all lost in the great account of eternity'? or Avill they, like an army of departed ghosts, rise to your al^ frighted memory, and condemn you^ '^ 11. :"r 1 1 i A KEY. EXCLAMATION POINT. General Rule.— SenttMices and their members fbhoweo Dy this point, adopt, according to tiieir natures, both inflec tions. Examples.— inhh is a man of pleasure', what is a man of pain^ '' How quick\ how total', is iiis transit^ ! In what a dismal gloom does he sit for ever^ ! Ho\v short', alas' ! is his day of rejoicing^ ! lor a moment he glitters', he dazzles^ ! in a moment where is he^ •* Oblivion covers his memory^ ! PARENTHESIS. Rule 1.— When this figure is used either with or without tlie comma, it always adopts the ' inflection. Examples.— Na.ti\ra\ historians observe', (for while I am in the country I must thence bring my allusions',) that male birds only have voices^ Know ye not, brethren', (for I speak to them that know the law',) that the Uw has dominion over a man so long as he lives' : I had letters from him', (here I felt in my pocket',) that ex actly spoke the king's mind . Rule 2. — When the parenthesis is set off by the semico> n, colon, or dash, the ^ infleciion obtaing. _ Example. — Then went the captain with the officers, and %()Uffht the apostles Avithout violence^ ; (for they feared the opTe lest they should have been stoned^;) and when they jd brought them, tliey set them before the councif. |lU^LE 3.— That phrase or member which intervenes and reaks the connexion of a sentence, is, whether long or short, of the nature of a pareniliesii;, and is preceded and fbllowed by the ' inflection. Examples. — The minister's talenls', f()rmcd f()r great enter- prise', could not fail of rendering him conspicuous\ I shall always remember', iriy fi-iends', with the most lively gratitude', your continued kindness to me\ He is alternately supported', and has been for these ten years', bv his father', his brother', and his uncle\ EMrHASIS. Definition. — Emphasis is that peculiar stress of the Voice with which the imj)ortant wonls in a sentence are pro- nounced, in order to distinguish them from the less important or little connective particles. Rule 1.— Those words and phrases in a sentence which stand opposed to each other, adopt the strongs emphasis. I i I A KEY. ]» 3 loftoweo ith inflec a man of [n what a as^ ! is his zzles^ ! in lory^ ! or without lile I am in that male that know so long as /,) that ex he semico- )fRcers, and feared the when they cir. rvenes and ng or short, nd followed "•reat enter- s\ most lively r these ten >f the ■Voice le are pro- is important tence which iphasia. ■A •I f Examples. — Many people mistake the love of virtue for the practice ol'it. Many states were in alliance withy and under the protec tlon oJ\ the then mistress of the Avorlil. The wise man is happy when he iS-ains his ovm esteem; the/boi when he g-ains tlie esteem ol'olhfirs. Rule 2. — That word or pluiKse in a sentence which sug- gests or dictates the ojiposing word, must take the strong emphasis. Emphasis.— When a Persian soldier was railing against Alexander the Great, his ollicer reproved him by saying, "Sir, >[ou were paid lo fight against Alexander." Justice, my friend, ai)pears to be lame among us. And Nathan saif read in the low pitch, a small increase of force applied lo the second, another advance to the third, and so on, to the jast in the conmiencing series, and the last but one in the closing series; this will produce a climax in utterance, and add force to the. delivery. Generally speaking, lessons should be read upon the mid- dle pitch of the voice. In this pitch, utterance will be easiest to the reader, and most pleasing to tlie hearer ; and in this, too, the voice has the greatest strength, and most play. The principles have been purposely omitted in several chapters toward the close of a few sections, for the purpose of having the pupil apply them in pencil mark, as a test of his knowledge of the Key, and of their application to general reading. DILI Itime'', ai " Theg ble occ ,Wha1 irtue is ustre\ Virtu( nd flou Since Disar guise\ Chanj Time nd nois In or owTJirsi Wha > From * pleasure A ten cellent j in g Stat In the t l<^f constn ] >ie presun hn flection! |T|ie Auih »rd tiie It [and para( nst a drawling mode of pro- ction too high (e no pause in the inflection! ionate, and es- le tlie undula ^h the falling »r inore mem- >f read in the LO ilMi second, the last in the closing .series; dd force to the upon the mid- i will be easies; r ; and in this, most play, ted in several or the purpose rk, as a test ol tion to general THE ENGLISH READER PART I. PIECES IN PROSE. CHAPTER I. SELECT SENTENCES AND PARAGRAPHS. SECTION I. , DILIGENCE^ industry\ and proper improvement o ^ime'', are material duties of the young^. ^ The acquisition of knowledge' is one of the most honour ,ble occupations of youth\ Whatever useful^ or engaging' endowments we possess', irtue is requisite', in order to their shining with proper |ustre\ Virtuous youth' gradually brings Ibrward accomplished nd flourishing manhood^. Sincerity^ and truth' form the basis of every virtue\ Disappointments^ and distress' are often blessings in dis- ^^uise\ Change^ and alteration', Ibrm the very essence of the world * . Dme happiness' is of n. retired nature^; an enemy to pomp' .nd noise\ In order to acquire a capacity for happiness', it must be ■our first study to rectify inward disorders' . "Whsitever purifies', fortijies also the heart\ * From our eagerness to grasp', we strangle' and destroy ' pleasured A temperate spirit\ and moderate expectations', are ex " gTMarew of the mind', in this uncertain { wg state i/e, change NOTE. |n the first chaptei, the compiler has exhibited sentences in a great variety lofconstruction, and in all the diversity of punctimiion. If well practised upon [he presumes they will fully prepare the young reader for the various pauses, hnflcctions, and modulations of voice, which the succeeding pieces require jTiie Author's " English Exercises," under the head of Punauation, will af- I Ord tiie learnev additional scope for improving liimacU* in reading sentencM land paragraph.? variously constructed 17 * liii I'i is 'Mm' 16 The English Header. I ParM. iChap, There is nothing', except simplicity of intention^ and pii. ritj^ ol' principle', that caii stand the teal ol'near approach' and irtrict examination^ The t>a/tt« of any possession', is to be chiefly estimated', bv the relief which it can brin^ us', in the time'of our greatebi need^ No person who has once yielded up the government of his mind/and given loose rein to his desires^ and passions', can tell how far they may carry him\ Tranquillity ol'mind', is always most likely to be attained', when the business of the loorld', is tempered with thoughtful and serious retreat^ He wiio would act like a wise man', and build his house on the rock^y and not on llie sand', shoultl contemplate human lilc', not only in the sunshine', but in the sliade^. Let usefulness^ and beneticence', not ostentation^ and va- nity', direct the train ol'your pursuits^ To maintain a steady and unbroken mind', amidst all the sliocks of the world', marks a great' and noble spirit\ Patience', by {)reserving composure within', resists the impression which trouble makes Irom without'^. Compassionate atiections', even when Ihey draw ieai'i liom our eyes tor human misery', convey satistiiction to the heart\ ' They who have nothing" to give', can often afford relief to others , by imparting Avhat they /(?e/\ Our ignorance of what is to come\ and of what is reallv goocP or evil', should correct anxiety about worldly success . The veil which covers fron. our sight the events of sue ceeding years', is a veil woven by the hand of merci/'. The best preparation tor all the u certainties of futurity', consists in a well ordered mind\ a goon conscience', and a dieerful submission to the will of Heaven^ SECTION If. THEcAic/ misfortunes thatbefiill us in life', can be traced to some vices^ or follies' Avhich we have committed^ Were we to survey the chambers of sicknei^s' and distress, we should often find them peopled with the victims of uiteni- . perance^ anil sensuality', aiul with the children of vicious iii' iiolence' and sloth^ To be wise in our oivn eyes\ to be wise in the opinion of J the worW, and to be wise in the sight of our Creator'^ are'' tliree things so very different', as larely to coincided Man', in his highest earthly glory', is but a reed floating . the stream of time', and forced to follow ev( on tion of the current^ every new direc- Thee frustrate Pers on 1 i The«! ty\ and ciistresse |;nilt^ I No stj ,^uil)lemii f|nalice', I Moral #0 much ilhey are I Hewl |has no I |idmire^ ieason U When jish^d Oil ihe »coj/J When \ah'' wit Jication Every ?nds to knevole Luxui iuence \ance\ lions of Mixei liounce' piness' dition 01 ; Societ liversit) fiplicity roo(r. That reneral' luencet kvhom )assed i lug max Pari 1, iChap. 1. Select SentenceSf ij-c. 10 tion\ and pii- ippruach^ and estimated', bv f our greatebi ?rnment of hu passions'', can be attained', th thoughtful lild his house niplate huniai: ation^ and va- amidst ail the ; spirit\ n\ resists the y draw tean Miictioa to tiic afford relief to what is really [)rldly success . events of sue 'mercy. m of futurity', ids The corrupted temper\ and the guilty passions of the bad' .Jruatratc the eflcct of every advantage wnich the loorld con fers on the>n\ The external niisJlirtunes of life', disappointments^ pover- ty\ and sickness', are li^lU in comparison of those imoard distresses oi' mindly occasioned by lbl!y\ by passion', and by |:nilt\ i No station is so high\ no power so ffreat\ no character so inibleinished', as to exempt men from the attacks of rashness\ |ua!ice', or envy\ I Moraf' and relip'ovis instniction' derives its elficacy', not #0 nuicli l*om whit men arc taught to kiiow^ as from what •jlhey are brought tofeet^. \ He who pretends to great sensibility^ towards men', and yei ^as no leeling f()r the higli objects of religion^ no heart to 'jidmire'' and adore' the great Father of tlie universe', has l-easoii to distrust the trutV and delicac)^ of his 8ensibility\ Whea', upon rational'* and sober imiuiry', we have estab- lished our f)rincii)les', lot us not suffer them to lie shaken by ilie ico/fs of the licentious', or the cawt/«of the sceptical^ * When we observe any tendency to treat religion' or mo- Mids to debase the mind\ and to weaken the generous anti ')ene\\)\ent 2)rinciples of human nature\ Luxury\ pri le\ and vanity', have frequently as much in- hi c nee in corrupting the sentiments of the greai\ as i^no fance}, bigotry\ ana prejudict', have in misleading the opi lions of the multitude^. icience', ana a || Mixed as the present state is', reason^, and religion', pro liounce', that', generally', if not always', there is more hap piness' than misery\ more pleasure^ than pain'', in the cor. dition of man\ , can be traced )itted\ j' and distress, tims of uiteni- 1 of vicious ill- the opinion of| Creator' i arej| icide\ , reed fli)atin? ery new direc- Society', when formed', requires disti liversity of conditions^ subordination of iplicity of occupations', in order to s iplicity J00(l\ distinctions of property , of ranks\ and a mul- advance the general pations , That the temper', the sentiments\ the morality^ and', in reneral', the whole conduct^ and character of men', are in- puenced by the example^ and disposition' of the persons Avith Ivhom they associate', is a reflection which h.is long since passed into a proverb', and been ranked among the stand mg maxims of human wisdom', in all ages of tiie vvorkl\ I Ti 1 20 The English Reader, fart 1 SECTION HI. THE desire of improvemcnt'f discovers a liberal nilnc!^ it is connected v> ith many accomplisiunents', and many \irtues\ Innocence confers ease'' and fieedom on tile mind' ; and eaves it open to every pleasing sensation^. Moderate" and simple pleasures', relish high with the tem perate'' : In the midst of las studi(;d refinements', the volup- luarjf languibhes\ Gentleness corrects whatever is offensive in our manners^ .md', hy a constant train of humane attentions', studies to al- leviate the burden of common misery\ That gentleness which is the characti'ristic of a /ST 0(l man', nas', like every other virtue', its seat \n the hraii' : and', kl me add', nothing', except what flows from the heart', can reu der even extermtl manners truly pleasing\ Virtu'j', to become eitlur vigorous^or useful', murt be haiutually active'' : not breaking fiulh occasionally with a transient lustre', like, the, !>laze of a cornel' ; but regular in its rettirns', like the light of //m/' : not like the aromatic ffalt\ which sonu'.times feasts the sense' ; but like th«> ordinary bretz^f which purifies tJic;iir', and renders it healthful'. The happiness of every man', depends more upon the state of his own mind', than upon any one exlernal circumstance' • nay', more than upon all exhrnul things puttogether\ In no station\ in no neriod', let us think ourselves secure from the dangf huma ivUs', 01 io yield^ Anion nate co hur ihnii lis kindr Chari .shines^ ; %he dark "t Many ^nd are I tJenu heart tl derstooc piaffe \)i ;ver ma The! Whei )bservei itenipest 'riiei Ihiult on libural minih its', iiiid many I mind' ; nnd with the tern ta', the voliip- )iir mnnrH-rs"' ; btudies to ill- AfTod man', vi^: and', It I oart',canrtMj ul', miwt l)e (rjally with a regular in its romatic ^(tlt% tho ordinary althnil\ ipon tho state rcumstance' • ;<'ther\ sulvL'o scctire 'or.s\ Efvery )uth' to gray TiS to criminal ' \'vry possibhf ose pieasin'os e T -^rk^, and sometimes at not tell him\ iwakftn with- ;hc world had istead of fi\e pernicious*, at once', iriay ;f , in the last ind affability^. w\ It is so- # |C^f. *. Select SentenceSt ^t 31 |^ial\ kind *"" rheerfuP: far removctl from tl-.at rioomy^ and illiberal ■J'P^ratition', Avliich clouds ttit, bio\v\ Bharpeiis Jie lenipcr\ dejeo ts the snirit', and loaches men to fit them- ihe^'eslbr ano^/**'" world', ny nejrlectinsr the concerns oi'lhis\ Re.eal nont ^* thesccrets of thy liiencr. Be J'aillijul to liis interests^ Forc^ake him not in danj?cr\ Abhor the tJiought ol'acquinng.any advauiase by his prejudiced ,' Man' J always prosperous wounl be eriddy' and insolent', tlways afflicted', would be iiillen' or desi)ondent\ Hopes' ind (ears', joy^ and sorrow , are^ tlicreti)re', so blended In lis lile', as both loji^ive room lor worldly pursuits^ and lo re- [•alK, from tinie^ to tinie', the admonitions of conscience'. SECTION IV. TIME once past', never returns' : the monient whicli i.s nl\ is lost^br ever^. There is noUnn«? on earth so stable', as to assure us of uii- •jiisturbed rest' ; nor so powerful', as to ufiord us constani protection^. The house o^ feasting' too often becomes an avenue to <$]\e house ofmournivi^''. Short', to the licentious', is the iu- 5|erval betAveon iheni^ It is of great importance to us', to form a proper estimate >f human lile' ; Avithout either loading it with imaginary ivUs', or expecting liom it greater advantages than it is able ^o yiekP. Among a// o\ir corrupt passions', there is a stnmg and inti- nate conncxion\ AVhen any one of them is adopted into bur family', it seldom quits until it has fathered upon us all Its kindred\ Charity', like the sun', briglitens every object on which it ehines^; a censorimis disposition' casts every character into lithe darkest shade it will bcar\ ^ Many men mistake tlie love', for the practice of virtue' ; jHnd are not so much good men , as the friends of goodness\ i Genuine virtue' has a language that speaks to every ^leart tlirougliout the world'. It is a language which is un- jj^lerstood hyaW. In every region\ every chmate', the /to- iiage i)aid to it', is the same\ In no one sentinicnt' were ver mankind more generally agreed^ The appearances of our security' are frequently deceitful\ When our sky seems most settled^ and serene', m some un- |Observed quarter', gathers the little black cloud', in which the |tenmestferments',and prepares todi.schargeitselionourhead\ I Tlie man of true fi)rtitiflie' may l>e compared to the castle [Kiult on a rock', which defies the attacks of the surrounding t '!::■!! l|:!i i'ii 22 The English Reader* 1 Parti. ^f^^P' 1 waters^: the man of n feeble and timorous spirit', to a hut placed on tiie siiore', whicli every wind shakes', and every wave overllowH*. Nothin'' is so inconsistent with self-pisscssion', as violent anger^. It over|K)\vcrs reason*; confounds our ideu-^; dis- lorti* the aj>pearance', ami blackens the colour of every ob- ject*. By tne storms which it raises ivitlnn^t and by the mischiels ^vhicll it occasions without', it gciierally brings on the passionate and revengeful man', greater misery than he can oring on llic object of his resentnient\ The palace ol"viV/»e has', in all aj^es', been renrescnted ns })laccd on ti.e smninit of a hill^; in the ascent of which', labour w reqiiisite', and difficuUies are to be surmounted*; anil whert' a conductor is noedetl ', to direct (mr Avay', and nkl our steps*. In ']Ui\ghisoi'oth<:rs'j let us always think the best', and cm- j)loy the sj)irit of charitv' and candour^ But in judging of ourselves', we ought to be exact' and severed Let him', Avho desires to see others happy', make haste to p:We while WxH^ift can be enjoyed*; and renjember'.that every inonjent of (lelay', takes away something from the value of his l>en'jlaction\ And let him who proposes his own happi- ness', reHect', that while he Ibrms his jnirpose', the day rolls on', and " the night cometh', when no man can work\" To sensual i)erson8', hardly any thing is what it appears to be*: and what flatters most', is always farther from reality*. There are voices Avliich sing around them', but whose strams allure to ruin*. There is a banquet spread', where jmson i 1 IS m every dish*. There is a couch which invites them to re- l)ose', but to slumber upon it', is death\ If we would judge whether a man is really happy', it is not solely to hirj houses^ and lands', to his equipage* and liis retinue we are to look'. Unless we could aec farther', and discern what joy\ or what bitterness', his iieart feels', we can iDronounce little concerning him\ The book is well written^; and I have perused it with pleasure' and profit^ It shows', first', i\mi true devotion is rational' and well founded*; next^, that it Is of the highest imi)ortance to every other part of religion^ and virtue'; and' lastly', that it is most conducive to our happiness*. There is certainly no greater felicity', than to be able tr look back on a life usefully' and virtuously employed*; t( trace our own progress in existence', by such tokens as ex cite neither shame' nor sorrow\ It ought therefore to bi tlie care of those who wish to pass their last hours with comfort', to lay v.p such a treasure of pleasing ideas', as shal' support the expenses of that time', which is to depend wholly upon the fund already acquired^ »WHA' MS lost t He tha less quali Can w< ■}tiiation Ifinciple!: Mrtue'? 1 I What ^rsity'! Irison \\ When rtainty ^rived fi How H diange ii How n Uppointci Sliich', ■ en wou What i itional s the o': I ai; illect wi tl iious Part 1. thap. 1. Select ScnlenctiS, ^'C. 23 lirit', to a hut a', and everjr )n', as violent ur idea^^; dis- r of every ob- and by tbe ally brings on liscry than he eprescnted ns wliich'', labour Mr;an(l where akl our 8leps\ be8t\ and cni- in judging of make haste to or' that every 1 the value of lis own happi- , the day roils n wori<\" t it appears to ■ li-oni realit^'\ whose strains ?here poison is s them to re- ' happi/, it is ipagre' and iiis farther', and sart feels', we rused it with lie devotion is f the liighest virtue'; and' ess*. to be able tr :;mployed^; U tokens as ex lerefore to br t hours with [leas', as shall iepend whoUy i SECTION V. ( WHAT avails the show of external liberty', to one wiko mis lost the goveniiiient oriiiniseir? He that cannot live well to-day', (says l^Iartial',) will tie less qualified to live wcil to-nMrrow\ Can we esteem that man [jrospcrous', who is raised to a ■Ituation Avhicli Hiitters his passions', but which corrupts liis li'inciples', lants', or laid out lor jtAoii'' rather than use'\ When Aristotle was asked', " What a man could gain by ih im M t Hi' ^■:;'i it 1,1'/; ¥: ' ' li. ki 16 The Ens:Hsh Reader. Part 1. f^hap. : telling a/(rf»e/»oorfy' J»e replied', "Not to be credited when jt A,jt,)„ he speaks the truth''" J,,,! ^^yj,^ L'Estrange', in his Fables', tells us that a number of fro- j^,,,^ j,i, licsome boys' were one day watching frogs', at the sis retained at ic frugahty t( lie was Ire* nplicity\; but icient phloso- 3 sufficient for fise with their culture of his arance\ His and decency' .vhich he took mind free and the friendship ssed for thee^ surviving Da- hy iove lor me ', was wound- liis thigh\ He p^; and being led with thirst for drini<\ It le was putting er', who ha-ji- looked up to il s Sidney' tool^ to the soldier', line . , whom he harl " By the same es tlie world\ one small ves- he commands 1^6 of men by lions'. pime hiwi vvitli a jxission lor military ^'lory', he used to an- iNver'. "Tiiat lie more desired the preaervation o^ one svh- feet', than tlie destruction ol'a thousand enemies." Men are too often ingenious in making themselves mise- nible', by ag'g'ravating to their own liuicy', beyond bounds', ali me edls whicii they en(lure\ They compare themselves with wne but those whom they imagine to l)e more haj^py^ ; and p)mplain', that upon tjiem alone has liiilen the v/hole load of ' nnan sorro\vs\ Would they look with a more impartial re on the Avorld', they would see themselves surrounded Klh sufferers^ ; and find that they are only drinking out of bat mixed cup' which Providence has prepared for ml^. — "1 ^ill restore thy daughter again to life', said an eastern sage a prince who grieved innnoderately lor the loss of a beloved lild', "provided thou art ahle to engrave on her tomb' the unes of three persons Avho liave never mourneir." Tfie rince made inquiry after such persons^ ; but found the u»- jiiiry vain', and was silent\ SECTION VIII. HE that hath no rule over his own spirit', is like a city that hrukcn down', and without walls\ A soft answer turneih away wrath'; hwx gnevous words Jr up anger\ Better is a dinner of herbs where love is', than a stalled ox I hatred there with\ Pride foetli belore destruction' ; and a liaughty spirit l)e- •ealali\ Hear counscP, and receive instruction', that thou mayest ^^, truly «mc\ 1: Faithfid are the wounds of a friend'; but the kisses of an eiiciivj are deccitfuP. Open rebuke' is better than secret Zow«\ Secst thou a man wise in his own conceit' ? There is more liene of a /oo/', than of him'. I He that is slow to anger', is better than the mighty^ ; and m that ruleth his spirit', than he that taketh a city^. iHe that hath pity on the poor', Ifjndeth to the Lord""; that "^lich [ie hath given', will he pay bun again\ If thine enemy be hungry'', give ]\\m))read to eaf ; and ii be thirsty', give him water to drink\ He that planted the ear', shall he not hear' ; He that forno- the eye', shall he not see' ? I have been young', and noAV I am old^ ; yet have I never a tlie righteous forsaken', nor his seed begrging breads I 3. 1 i I'ti!:*'; t 29 2Vte English Reader. Part 1 It is ])etler \o be a door-keeper in thelioiise of tlie Lord' than to dwell m the tents ()l'Avicke(lness\ 1 have seen tiie wiclced in great power', and spreading him* self like a ;LTecn bay-tree\ Yet Ke passed away^ : 1 souglit hhii', hut lie coukl not he lound\ Hiippy is the man that tindelii wisdom\ Length of days is in her ri^ht liand' ; and in her left hand', ricljes'' and ho- nour\ Her ways are ways ol' pleasantness', and all her paths are peace'. How good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell to grether in nuity^! It is like precious ointment^ : Like the dew oi'Hernion', and the dew tliat descended UDon the mountains oi ZlOU . The slujrgard will not plong-h by reason of tlie cokP ; lie Utall tlicrcli)re besf'm harvest', and have nothing\ 1 went by the iield of the slothful'', and by the vineyard ol the man void of understandhig^ : and', lo' ! it was all grown over with thorns^; inflles had covered its face', and the stoiu wall was broken down\ Then I saAv', and considered ii weir ; I looked upon it', and received instruction\ Honourable age is not that which standeth in length ok time', nor that which is measured by number of J/tmV;- Bu\ ivisdom is the gray hair to man', and an unspotted life is* old age'. Solomon', my son', know thou the God of thy fathers', ano w.Tve him Avith a perfect heart', and with a witling mind\ 1: liiou sa'k huu', he will be Ibund of thee^ ; but if thou/wso/u him', he wili cast thee oil i()r ever\ SECTION IX. THAT every day has its pains^ and sorrows'^ is univer- sally exi)erienced', and almost universally confessed\ But let us not attend only to moimiful truths^ : if we look impartial!) about us', we shall find' 'that every day has likewise lis pleasures' and hsjoys^. We should cherisli sentiments oi' charity towards all men\ The author of all good' nourishes much piety^ and virtue' in liearts that are unknown to us^ ; and beholds repentance ready to spring up among many' whom we consider as re-'\ probates''. ^ I No one ought to consider himself as insignificant in tliC| aight of his Creator'. In our several stations', we are all seiiti lorth to be labourers in the vineyard of our heavenly Father\| Every man has his work allotted^ his talent committed to! luni' ; by the due improvement of which', lie may', in one| way or other', serve God\ promote virtue , and be useful in : the wor!d\ pkap. 1. ' The loi rdinatioi lotive to io far', ii disgrace', defect'. ^Ijustmei fre', is a nen any i euilaiig The lie •taineil i I ley ma I iici()ry\ 11 jrays\ 1 lilt' and )US coui ^^hich are f: Disease ;oin bein an\ T vn niisi? )th prod siionest} >en' beti rimes'; a When 1 luman lit by man i'hich the on' I Pari 1 Llie Lord' than ipreading him* ^ay^ : 1 souglit «ength of (lays •iclies'' and ho- d all her paths en lo dwell to Like the dew the niountauis the cohP; he tie vnievard ol Avas all grown , and the stoiu I considered i; ion\ h in length o er oi' years'^ :- [ispolted life is ly fathers ^ ami fling mind\ 1: if thou forsah ws , IS liinver- !ssed\ But let )ok impartial!) IS likewise its rards all rnen\ and virtue' in ds repentance onsider as re- lificanl in the we are all sent. venly B'ather\; committed tOi J may', in oiiei nd be useful in i phap. 1. Select SenlenceSf i^c. 29 '^1 The love ol' praise' sliould be preserved under pwper sub- ordination to the principle of duty''. In itself, it is a usefiiJ fliotive to action'; but when allowed to extend its influence tt>o far', it corrupts the whole character', and produces guilt', disgrace', and niisery\ To he entirely destitute of it , is a 4ejecl\ To be governed by it', is depravity''. The proper l^ljusttnent of the several principles of action in human na- fre', is a matter that deserves our highest attention\ For nen any one of them becomes either too weak'' or too strong^', ' eiulangers both our virtue' anu our happiness^ The lie.sires and [)assions of a vicious man', having onee •tained an unlimited sway', trample him under their ieet\ I'hey make him teel that he is su )joct to various^ contra- clory\ and imperious masters', w ic often pull him dillerent ay.s\ His soul is rendered the receptacle of many repug int' and jarring dispositions\, and resembles some barha- )us country', car.toned (mt into diflerent principalhies'. _^/hich are continually waging war (mone ariOtner\ ^; Diseases', poverty^ di.sappoiiitment\ and shame', are iiir fironi being' , in evary instance', the unavoidable tloom of an\ They are nuich more tiec|uently the otispring of hi;;:! vn misguided choice''. Intemperance engenders disease', [oth produces poverty', pride creates disappointments', and isiionesty exposes to sharne\ Tlie ungoverned passions of jien' betray them into a ihousand l',)!lies'; their ti)llies iiiio rimes'; and their crimes into mis(brtunes\ When we reflect on the many distresses Avhich abomid in nnan life', on the scanty proportion of happiness whii-h i>; man is /te»T allo\yed to enjoy', on the small dilfereuee liich the diversity oi' fortune makes on that scanty prop(H'- )ii'; it is surprising that envy should ever hiive been a pre- lent passion among men\ nuich more more that it should kive prevailed among Christians^. Where so much is sut- ured in common', little room is left ibr envy\ There is more j^iccasion for pity^ and sympathy', and an inchnation to assist ' ch other\ At our first setting out in life', when yet unacquainted Ifilli the vvorld^ and its snares', when every pleasure ei>- wiants with its smile\ and every object shines with the gloss *•* novelty', let us beware of the seducing appearances Avhich .rround us'j and recollect what others have suffered from le power of lieadstrong desire\ if we allow any passion', ren though it be esteemed innocent^ to acquire an absolute icendant , our inward peace ivill be impaired^ But if a«v ^hich has the taint of i^uiW take early possession of o^ •»ind', we may date', from tliat moment , the ruin of a^ J-anquillity*. ^ 30 The English Reader, Part 1 riiiori'£'/;t(7/ weaknesses', and are indulged', in tlit he^innin:;'', wit!i .scnipuKni.snes.s' and reserved But', b; Ioniser practice', these restraints weaken', and the power t. habit grows\ One vice hrin^s in another to its aid\ B) a sort ol' natural aliinity', they connect^ and entwine thcni selves toilet licr', till tiieir n)o{y coine to be spread wide^ aiK deep' over all tiie souP. SECTION X. ^VHKNC Fi arisf.s the misery of this present world'? It i not owin ^' to our cloudy atuiosphiM'e', our changiui? seasons and inck'uient .skies'. It is not owin^ to the debility ot'ou b<»dii's', nor to tiie luiequal distribution of the ijoody of tor tunt'\^ Amidst all disadvanrai^-es of this kind\ a pure\ ; *ite:ul!'ist\ and eiili..»'!ilened mind', possessed of stron<^ vir i.ue', could ouj')y itself in jioaco', and smile at the itn|)oten ?i.s-s;uilt.s of iortune' and the elements\ It is within ourseht TJKit misery li;u iixetl his seat\ Our disordered hearts', on ijuiity passions^ our violent prejudices'^ and misplaced sires', are the instruments of the trouble v/hich we endure These shiu'pen the da'-fs which adversity would otherwis: point in vain a.<4Minst i's\ While the vain' nnd the licentious' are revellin;^ in tli- midst of exlruvagance^ auil riot', how little do they think r t!n se scenes of sore distress', which ari3 passing? at that nwv meat rlu()u:>;tiout the world'; multitudes ^trul^i4■!ini^• li)r a poo /t7/6^s vviiom they have lost^ or, in all the hitter | ness of aiii^uish', bidding- those who are just expiring tbj Ixst adieu\ Never adventure on too near an .Tppron- 'i to what is cvit Faufiliarize not yourselves with it', in the ^('-.fhtei'l instance!;' Without fear^. Listen with reverence to every i-eprehensio: of conscience', and preserve the most quick and accuniii sensibility to ricfht'iind wron'4'\ If ever your moral impre siotis begin to decay\ and your natural abhorrrnte of ^uiltl; Jessen', you have ground to dread that the ruin of uir/Mt' tast approach'ng\ B/ (lifjappointnicntii^ and trials' the violence of our ;wiJ Part 1 Viap, 1. Select SenlenccSf ^-c* hicli generallv regular gratifi' in , appear uiv tlulged', ill till ic\ But^ I); I the power c > its ai(l\ B) entwine thorn read wiile^ aiL 31 riety' and it world'? It ■: agini? .seasons (lebilily ot* oi: e ifoody of tor id\ a pure\ ; ot' .strong vlr [\i the iin[)oten ^vithiu oarselvt -eil hearts^ on misplaced tit ich we endure ouid otlierwisi evollinj? in tl: lo tht>y think I ini? at that nuv ling- Km- a \)W vn' Vhoiti the;; eyes', t()r tha? tuiles irroaniii: ' and inunourii of life', pinin: !.s weepiiii? ovt iuallt,hel)ittO[i St expiring M to^vhat is evill lite f I instances^ ry reprehensio| k and accnraii r nu)ral iniprel ■rrnLCof^uiltll ruin ()i'virtne\ hions i-s tamed', and our minds^ are formed to sobriel tellection\ In the varieties of lilii', occasioned by tlie vici»- litudes ol' worldly lortuiie', we are inured to habits both of 'the active' anil the sullering virtues\ How much soever wc 'Complain of the vanity of tlie world', facts plainly show', 4iat if its vanity vyere less\ it could not answer the purpose !f .salutary disciplined Unsatisfactory as it is', its pleasures re stilt too apt to corrupt our hearts^ How liital then lust the consetiuences iiave been', had it yielded us more "iiomplele enjoy uient'i* If', with all its troubles', we are in lauger of being too much attached to it', how enlirely woukl t have seduced our arfections', if no troubles had been mir>- [led with its pleasures\'' In sea.sons of distress^ or difliculty', to aban(h>u ourselv«« dejection' J carries no mark ol'a great or a worthy mind^ listead of sulking un.ler trouble^ and declaring *' that his )ul is weary of lile'," it becomes a wise* and a good man', I the evil day', with lirtimess', to maintain his post^; to ?ar up against the stornf ; to have recourse to those advan- l^es which', in the worst of times', are always lell to inte- fity^ and virtue'; and never to give up the hope that better lys may yet arise\ How many young persons have', at first', set out in the lorl ibition^ or greatness', fiis indignation rose at being thoughi )Me of the savage actions which the prophet had men- led'' ; and', with much warmth', lie replies' : " But whaf* thyaervant a dog\ that he should do this great thing'?" Elisha makes no return', but to point out a remarkable mge' which was to take place in his condition^ : "Tlie \rA hath shown me', that thou shalt be king over Syria\'* Icourse of time', all that had been predicted' came to pass', izael ascended the throne', and ambition took possession of heart\ " He smote the children of Israel in all their ists\" He oppressed tliem during all the days of king Je- . ihaz^: and', from what is lefl on record of his actions', he iinly appears to have proved', what the prophet foresaw *" to be , a man of violence\ cruelty', and Dlood\ In this passage of history , an object is presented', which serves our serious attention^ We behold a man who', in state of life', could not look upon certain crimes without •prise' and horror^; wlio' knew so little of himself', as to lieve it impossible for him ever to be concerned in commit- \g them^; that same man', by a change of condition^ and unguarded state of mind', transformed in all his senti- and as he rose in greatness', rising also in guilt', O B2 t '\ ^nts^; H4 Tlie English Reader. Parti till at last he completed that whole character of iniquity whicl he once detested\ blair. SECTION III. Haman ; or^ the niisenf of pride. AHASUERUS', wt»o is supposed to be tho prince know among the Greek historians by the name of Artaxerxes', hai advanced to the ciiief dignity ol" his kingdom', Haman^ a; Amalekite', who inherited all the ancient enmity of his raw to the Jewish nation\ He ajjpears^ from what is recordei ofliim^to have been a very wicked minister^ Raised t; greatness without nierit', he employed his power «o/e/y li) ( the gratification of his passions'. 2 As the honours which he possessed were next to royal (_ nis pride was every day fed with that servile homage', whid;| is peculiar to Asiatic courts'; and all the servants ot thekim^ prostratecl themselves before him\ In tlie midst of tliis genii)| ral adulation', one ])erson only stooped not to Haman^. 3 This was Mordecai the Jcav^: who', knowing this Amsl lekite to be an enemy to the people of God'j and', with vil tuous indignation', despising triat insolence of prosperity wifl which he saw 1dm lifted up', " bowed not', nor did himrl verence\" On this ay^pearance c f ;lisrespect from Mordecai| Haman "was full of wrath^: bat he " " thought to scmii liands on Mordecai alone'." Personal revenge' was nd sufficient to satisfy him\ 4 So violent and black were his passions', that he resolve] to exterminate tlie whole nation to wfilch Modecai belongedi Abusing', for his cruel purpose', the favour of his creduloij sovereign', he obtained a decree to be sent forth*. that| against a certain day', all the Jews throughout the rersiai dominions', should be put to the sword\ 5 Meanwhile', confident of success^j and blind to approaclj ing ruin', he continued exulting in his prosperity\ Invite! by Ahasuerus to a royal banquet', which Eisther the queel had prepared', " he went forth that day joyful', and withf glad heart\" But behold how slight an incident' was sun cient to poison his joyM As he went forth', he saw Mordee in the king's gate'; and observed', that he stiU refused to him homage\ " He stood not up', nor was moved for him';| although he well knew the formidable designs', which Har was preparing to executed I 6 One private man', who despised his greatness\ and m dained submission', while a whole kingdan trembled befon him': one spirit', which the utmost stretch of his powd could neither subdue^ nor humble', blasted his triumpbi T^enge' was m dent' was sufl ap. 2. ^*arrahve Pieces* n s Avhole soul was shaken with a storm orpa88ion\ 'Wrath\ ide\ and desire of revenge', rose into fury^ With diffi- \iy lie restrained himself m public\ but as soon as he came his own house', he was forced to disclose the agony of his d\ • He gathered together his friends^ and family', with Ze- h his wife\ " He told them of the glory of his riches\ and multitude of his children', and of all the things wherein king iiad promoted him^; and how he had advanced him )ve the princes' and servants of the king\ He said', niore- 3r', Yea , Esther the queen' suffered no man to come in fh the king', to the banquet that she had prepared', butmy- V; and to-morrow also am I invited to her with the king\" ^er all this preamble', what is the conclusionV "Yet all 3 availeth me nothing', so long as I see Mordecai the Jew' ing at the king's gate ." The sequel of Haman's history' I shall not now pursue\ night afford matter for much instruction', by the conspi- )us justice of God in his fall' and punishment\ But con- iplating only the singular situation, in which the expres- is just nuoted present him\ and the violent agitation of his ul which they display', the following reflections naturally 36^: How miserable is vice', when one guilty passion ere s so much tormentM how unavailing is prosperity', when', the height of it', a sing-le disappointment' can destroy the feh of all its pleasures^! how weak is human nature', which', the absence ofreaV is thus prone to form to itself tmagi- woes M BLAIR. SECTION IV. Lady Jane Grey. ^HIS excellent personage' was descended from the roval of England by both her parents^ She was carefully edu- ed in the principles of the reformation^: and her wisdom* 1 virtue' rendered her a shining example to her sex\ But Tas her lot to continue only a short period on this stage of <\g\ for', in early life', she fell a sacrifice to the wild arabi- I of^the duke of Northumberland', who promoted a mar- re between her^ and his son', lord Guilford Dudley', and led her to the throne of England', in opposition to the )ts of Mary' and Elizabeth^ At the time of their marriage' she was only about eign- [i years of age\ and her husband was also very voung- a gon of life very unequal to oppose the interestec viewB of il and aspiring men', who', instead of exposii^ vntia to \ • ,*I 86 The English Reader, Part] ft -1 dan^r^ should have been the protectors of their innocence and yuuth\ 3 This extraordinary young person', besides the solid en- dowments ofpiety^ and virtue', possessed the most enffaeiiu disposition', the most accomplisiied parts^; and being of ai equal a;?e with king Edward VI/ she had received all hu; cciucation with him', and seemed even to possess a greafi' tiicility in acquiring every part of manly' and classical lite rature^ 4 She had attained a knowledge of the Roman^ and Grec. languages', as well as of several woriem tongues^; hadpassoi most of her time in an application to learning'; and expressiv a great indillerence (or other occupations^ and amusement usjjal with her sex' and station^ 5 Roger Ascham', tutor to the lady Eli'/abeth', having a one time naiJ her a visit', l()und her employed in reaniii: Plato', wliile the rest of the family were engaged in & part of hunting in the park^; and upon his admiring the cingularit) (.flier choice', she told him', that she " received more pica •jMfo from that author', tlian others could reap from all thei i>j)ort' and gayety\" G Her heart'., replete with this love of literature^ and scr DU9 studies', and with tenderness towards her hushand', wli A Wfis deserving of her .'itiection', had never opened itself to tli | Idimering allurements of ambition^; and the iiilbrmation i her advancement to the throne', was by no means agreealii' to her\ She even refused to accept the crovvn^; pleaded th prelerable right of the two princesses^; expressed her dreii of ilie consefiuences attending an enterprise so dangerous , not to say so criminal'; and desired to remain in thatprivai ^ station in which she was born\ 7 Overcome at last with the entreaties^, rather than ret sons', of her lather^ and father-in-law', and', above alI',of hf < husband', she submitted to their will', and was prevailed ci CO relinquish her own judgment^ But her elevation was ( ' very short continuance^ The nation declared for quee Mary^; and the lady Jane', after wearing the vain pageantr of a crown during ten days', returned to a private life', wii much more satisfaction' than she felt when royalty was tei dered to her\ 8 Queen Mary', who appears to have been incapahle generosity^ or clemency', determined to remove every pe'| son' I'rom whom the least danger could be apprehended; Warning was', therefore', given to lady Jane to prepare 11 death^; a doom wliich she had expected', and which the it ,i nocence of her life\ as well as the misfortunes to which stl had beer \ y Th( Ip the t Iflolestcu •t' three persuade •ion to p 10 La< Ij^rcumst: unents Ireek lai le Scri(] every 11 On )rd', des Knt', anc ig' woul mch unl Approach lid', wo >in each )r ever u [)rtune', leir eterl 12 It } }rd Guilf (ut the c ejr you leir orde ithin th , 13 She iven hin e wait lould br Kly car rmed by nd', tha 14 Sir er to ex resent', er\ SI rltten ir ne m Gl 15 Thl inst 10 his Ml Pari\ eir innocence the snlid en- nost enf^^affinc id being of at ceived all he; iseas a greafc cln8sical lite an^ and Grecl had pass-' aiulexpres-si'i ainusementi! 2th', having a ed in readiii; iged in h nan the singula rit; /edrnore pica ) llconi all tliti iture^ and scr luishrtud', wli :ned itself to tli iiilormation < < leans aj?reenl>i n^; pleaded tli 3.ssed her drea so dangerous 1 in that privai ither than r« hove all', of he as prevailed ojj evation was iired for quee j vain pageantr fhap. 2. ^Vai-rative Pieces, 37 I ivatelife^ wit| oyalty was tetj en incapable nove every pe'l I apprehended^ e to prepare [J id which the iij es to which sl| isd been cxix).>cd', re dered no iniwclcornc iiewH to her*. Tu The (queen's bigoted /.eal', under colour o\' tender mercy m the piiiioner's soul', induced her to send priests', who ||lolestcd her with perpetual disputation^; and even a reprieve fi' three days was granted her', in hopes that she wiudd be persuaded', during that time', to pay , by a tirnelv convei- •ion to popery', some regard to her eternal welliire . 10 Lady Jane bad presence ot'niiud', in those melancholy fircumstances', not only to delend her religion by solid ar- ^innents', but also to write a letter to her sister', in the freek language', in which', besides sending her a co\)y ol le Scriptures in that ton^^ue', she exhorted her to maintain' every fortune', a like steady perseverancc\ 11 On the day of her execution', her husband', lord Guil- )rd', desired permi8sit)n to see her ; but she refiised hercon- jnt', and sent him word', that the tenderness of their part- ig' would overcome the Kirtitude of both''; and would too ^luch unbend their minds from that constancy', which their fpproachin^ end required of them\ Their separation', she iid', would be only lor a moment', and they would soon re- >in each other in a scene', where their atiections would be )r ever united', and where death\ disappointment\ and mis- [)rtune', could no longer have access to them', or disturb leir eternal felicit^\ 12 It had been mtended to execute the lady Jane^ and »rd Guilford' togetlier on the same scaffold', at Tower hilf; [ut the council', dreading the compassion of the people lor heir youth'. beauty\ innocence', and noble birth', changeil heir orders , and gave directions that she should be beheatled Vithin the verge of the T()wer\ 13 She saw her husbrnil led to execution^; and', having tiven him from the window some token of her remembrance', waited with tranquillity till her own appointed hour hould bring her to a like tiite\ She even saw his headless iKly carried back in a cart^; and found herself more con- Irmed by the reports which she heard of the ccmstancy of his |nd', than shaken by so tender' and melancholy a spectacle\ 14 Sir John Gage', constable of the Tower , when he led lier to execution', desired her to bestow on him some small resent', which ne might keep as a perpetual memorial of |ier\ She gave him her table-book', in which she had just 1 38 The English Reader, Pari ^hap. Hi ki youth\ at least^, and her imprudence',were worthy ol'excuse and that God^ and posterity', she trusted', would show he favour\" On the scaflbld she made a speech to the bj standcrs', in which the mildness of her disposition' led lien take the blame entirely on herself, without uttering one com plaint against the severity with which she had been treated 16 She said', that her offence was', not that she had lai her hand upon the crown', but that she had not rejected : with sufficient constancy^; that she had less erred throuei ambition', than through reverence to her parents', \vhom si had been taught to respect' and^ obey^; that she willingly rt ceived death , as the only satisfaction which she could nov make to the injured state^; and though her infringement { the laws had been constrained', she would show', by her vo luntary submission to their sentence', that she was desirou to atone for that disobedience' into which too much filia piety had betrayed her^: that she had justly deserved thii punishment', for being made the instrument', though th t//iifi7/m£^ instrument', of the ambition of others': and that tk' story of her life', she hoped', might at least he useful', b proving that innocence excuses not great misdeeds', if the tend any way to the destruction of the commonwealth\ 17 After uttering these words', she caused herself to l)t disrobed by her women', and with a steady', tenance', submitted herself to the executioner SECTION V. Ortogml; or, the vanity of riches. AS Ortogrul of Basra' was one day wandering along tin streets of fiagdat', musing on the varietiis of merchandist which the shops opened to his view', and observing the dil ferent occupations which busied the multitude on every side he was awakened from the tranquillity of meditation', bys crowd that obstructed his passage\ He raised his eyes', ani! saw the chief vizier', who's having returned from the divan was entering his palace\ 2 Ortogrul mingled with the attendants^ and being sup. posed to have some petition for the vizier', was permitted to ] enter\ He surveyed the spaciousness of the apartments" :, admired the walls hung with golden tapestry\ and the floon?] covered with silken carpets', and despised the simple neat' ness of his own little haDitation\ 3 " Surely'," said he to himself, " this palace is the seat of happiness', where pleasure succeeds to pleasure', and dis-, contend and sorrow' can h wve no admi83ion\ Whatever na- ture has provided for the ddi fr Jt of sense', is here spread fortl; .j serene coun HUME. be er le mas xury' is bow imd slee . 4"H liis wisl liom h thy c< Ifunsat wer' 5"T vail wi ave ve surely ves wi ho haf leratior ^; I wi 6Ful r for s e somi ne oft iamonc 7 One fopink reame( lome 01 e stoo oubt w ludden i I knov n the 8 0rt '^r()cks\ 1 i)am or ' behok ooked', vulet^, ish foi ounta emblin 9 "I en stn is fath the cha :ii11nil i| Pari] orthyol'excuse would show he leech to the bj sition' led hert tiering one con! id been treated hat she had lai I not rejected : 5 erred throuei ents', whom si she wilUngly re she could nov infring-ement c low', by her vo le was desiroii too much filia y^ deserved thii nt', though th rs': and that th< ' 5/ be useful', b; sdeeds', if the; ionweaIth\ 'd herself to b jpAop. 2. jWarralive Pieces. 39 be le master .\ serene coun HUME \es. er'mg along tlif 1 of merchandist serving the dif eon every side editation'', bys 1 his eyes'', am; rom the divan enjoyed^ What can mortals hope^ or imngine', which laster of this palace', has not obtained \' 'Ine dishes ol ixury', cover his table^! the voice of harmony', lulls him in ^is bowers^; he breathes the liragrance of the groves of Java', laid sleeps upon the down of the cygnets of the Ganges^ i 4 "He speaks', and his mandate is obeyed^; he wishes', and lllis wish is gratified'; all' whom he sees', obey him', and all' Jrhom he hears', flatter him\ How diflerent', O Orlogrul , * thy condition , who art doomed to the perpetual torments 'unsatisfied desire'; and who hast no amusement in thy )wer', that can withhold thee from thy own reflections^ 5 " They tell thee that thou arlwise^; but what does wisdom Ivail with poverty^? N(me will flatter the poor'; and the wise ^ve very little power of flattering themselves\ That man £ surely the most wretched of the sons of wretchedness', who Ifves with his own faults^ and follies' always before him ; and irho has none to reconcile him to himself by praise' and ve- keration\ I have long sought content', and have not tbund t^; I will from this moment endeavour to be rich\" 6 Full of his new resolution', he shut himsell" in his cham- 5r for six months', to deliberate how he should grow rich\ le sometimes purposed to oflTer himself as a counsellor to ne of the kings in India'; and at others resolved to dig for iamonds in the mines of Golconda\ . f 7 One day', after some hours passed in violent fluctuation /■^f opinion', sleep insensibly seized him in his cliair\ Ht^ reamed that he was ranging a desert country', in search ol lome one that might teach him to grow rich'; and', and being sup-i as permitted tc | le apartments. I \ and the floori; le simple neat- ilace is the seat! asure',and dis,^ Whatever na- ■ ire spread fortli , as e stood on the top of a hill', shaded with cypress', in oubt whither to direct his steps', his father appeared on iv ludden standing belbre him\ Ortogrul'," said the old man', 'I know thy perplexity^: listen to thy father^; turn thine eye n the opposite mountains" » 8 Ortogrul looked', and saw a torrent tumbling down the |tocks\ roaring with the noise of thunder', and scattering i1.s foam on the impending woods\ " Now'," said his latlier', r behold the valley that lies between the hills'." Ortogrul looked', and espied i little well', out of which issued a small rivulet\ " Tell me', now'." said his father', " dost thou ash for sudden affluence', tnat may pour upon thee like the lountain torrent'; or for a slow and gradual increase', re- jembling the rill gliding from the well'?" 9 " Let me be quickly rich\" said Ortogrur; " let the gol- len stream be quick' and violent'." " Look round thee' ," said . lis father', " once again\" Ortogrul looked', and perceived lihe channel of the torrent dry' and dusty ^; but following the s 4t', II I 40 Ue Englislt Reader, Fart I |?Aap. 2 S" i i ''it'' '!'!•: rivulet from the well', lie traced it to a wide lake', which the supply , slow and constant', kept always fuir. He awoke', and tfctermined to grow rich by silent profit', and persevering industry \ 10 Having sold his patrimony', he engaged in merchan- oceede d the emed I ippeared 4 As I pecting to enjoy all the lelicity which he had imagined richu able to aiibrd'. Leisure soon made iiim weary ol' himseli'', and he longed to be persuaded that lie was great' and hap- py\ He was courteous' and liberaP: he gave all that ap- proached him', Jiopes of pleasing him', and all who should please iiim', hoijes of being rewarded'. Every art of praise', was tried', and every source of adulatory fiction', was ex nausted\ 1 1 Orto^rul heard his flatterers without delight', because he Ibund himself unable to believe them\ His own heart t(jld him its frailties^; fiis own understanding' reproached him with his limits^ " How long'," said he', with a deen fsigli', "have I been labouring in vain to amass wealth', which at last is useless'! Let no man hereafter wish to be nc/t', who is already too wise to be flattered^ dh. joHNSOfr. SECTION VL The hill of science. IN that season of the year', when the serenity of the sky'J the various fruits which cover the ground', the discoloured* foliage of tlie trees', and all the svveet' but fading graces of iuspiriiiii' autumn', open thie mind to benevolence , and dis- pose it l(>r contemplation', I was wandering in a beautiful and romantic country', till curiosity began to give way to vvearuiess'; and I sai down on the fragment of a rock over- grown Avith moss'; where the rustling of the iiilling leaves\ |||ual' and the dashing of waters^ and the hum of the distant city ', ^ties of soothed my mind into a most perfect tranquillity'; and sleep iiride', by insensibly stole upon me', as I was indulging the agreeable '|§easures' ay becai len retu )re seve |d^; the :med h{ jirfeet 19 I saw smess vi theasc i veil of f ;r votar 5 Aftei fe towa Bcent', a [piercing lotions^ ^e moun ivy' and Iterrupte 6 Whe iin\ \ entured id untri( >ad', tha served uth oft 7 Whili c flight! jimed Aj *tting pa ntly ren most w' and 8 Indee reveries , which the objects around me naturally inspired^ 2 I immediately fuuiid myself m a vast extended plain', nil the middle of which arose a mountain', higher than I had be- tbre any conception of \ It was covered with a multitude A\ people^ chiefly youth', many of whom pressed forward with] the liveliest expression of ardour in their countenance', thougii i the way was', in many places', steep and difficult^ 3 I observed', that those', who had just begun to climb the , hill'j thought themselves, not far from the top^; but as the^i lllf! •I Parti te', which the lie awoke', id persevering I in iiierchan- on which lie of the vizier'; pleasure', ex la^ined ricltei r ot* himself, eat^ and hap- e all that ap- 1 who should art of praise', ion', was ex ^ht', because lis own heart r' reproached , with a deep vealth', which be nc/t', who El. JOHNSOK. ty ofthesky',^ e discoloured' 11 n^ graces of ^ce , and dis- in a beautiful give way to ■ a rock over- ailing leaves^, distant city', 2. Narrative Pieces. 41 ■ii tv'; and sleep the agreeable ly inspired^ , (led plain', ill I han I had be- a multitude J forward with ance', though ult\ n to climb the ^; but as they jiroceeded^ new End the summit Itemed but the foot ippeared to lose itself in the cloiids^ 4 As I was gazing on these things with astonishment', a Ifriendly instructer suddenly appeared^: " The inountam be- Ij^re thee'," said he', " is the Hill of Science^ On the top', H the temple of Truth', whose head is above the clouds', and veil of pure light covers her lace\ Observe the progress of r votaries^; be silent' and attentive^" 5 After I had noticed a variety of objects'^ I turned ray e towards the multitudes who were climbino^ the steep cent', and observed among them a youth of a lively look , piercing eye', and something fiery and irregular in all his iotions\ His name was Genius\ He darted like an eagle up ,e mountain', and left his companions gazing after him witn vy' and admiration'; but his progress was unequal', aikl iterrupted bv a thousand caprices\ 6 When Pleasure warbled in the valley', he mingled in lier iin\ When Pride beckoned towards the precipice', he ntured to the tottering edge\ He delighted in devious^ id untried paths', and made so many excursions from the ad', that his feebler companions often outstripped him\ I served that the Miises beheld him with partiality'; but uth often frowned', and turned aside her face\ 7 While Genius was thus wasting his strength in eccen- c flights', I saw a person of very different appearance', med Application\ He crept along with a slow and unro- ^tting pace', his eyes fixed on the top of the mountain', pa- ntly removing every stone that obstructed his way', till lie most of those below him', who had at first derided his w' and toilsome progress'. 8 Indeed', there were few wno ascended the hill with aial' and uninterrupted steadiness^; tor', besides the diffi- ^. ties of the way', they were continually solicited to turn **'de', by a numerous crowd of Appetites^ Passions\ and asures', whose importunity', when t)nce complied with', y became less and less able to resist^: and though they en returned to the path', the asperities of the road were )re severely felt'; the hill appeared more steep', and nig- d^; the fruits', which were wholesome^ and refreshin^- med harsh' and ill tasted^; their sii^-ht grew dim'; an4 jir feet ti'ipped at every little obstruction\ 19 I saw', with some surprise', that the Muses', who«r siness was to cheer^ and encourage' those who were toi»-* the ascent', would often smg in the bowers orPle&ii""^ 4* -i 1 42 The English Reader. Part I ■'i • t [ ti' I'.ii: . Mi!'' ana accompany those who were enticed away at the call ol the Passions^ They accompanied them', however', but a little way^; and always fi)rs<)ok them when they lost sight ol the hUr. The tyrants then doubled their chains upon fhe unhappy captives'; and led them away', without resistance', to the cells of Ignorance', or the mansions of Misery\ 10 Among the innumerable seducers', who were endea- vouring to draw away the votaries of Truth from the path o! science', there was one', so little formidable in her appear- ance\ and so gentle and languid in her attempts', that I should scarcely have taken notice of her', but for the num- bers she had imperceptibly loaded mth her chains\ 1 1 Indolence', (for so she was called',) far from proceedinj to open hostilities', did not attempt to turn their feet out o the path', but contented herself with retarding their pro gress^; and the purpose she could not force them to abandon she persuaded them to delay\ Her touch had a power lik that of the torpedo', which withered the strength of tlios who came within its influence\ Her unhappy captives sti turned their faces towards the temple', and always hoped t arrive there^; but the ground seemed to slide from beneal their feet', and they found themselves at the bottom', befcr they suspected they had changed their place\ 12 The placid serenity', which at first appeared in the | countenance', changed by degrees into a melancholy lai | guor', which was tinged with deeper and deeper gloom', 8| they glided do\vn the stream of Insignificance', a dark an;! sluggish water', which is curled by no breeze', and enlivenel by no murmur', till it falls into a dead sea', where startle! passengers are awakened by the shock', and the next ra ment buried in the gulf of Oblivion\ 13 Of all the unhappy deserters from the paths of Science J none seemed less able to return than the followers of In(l| lence\ The captives of Appetite^ and Passion' would oM seize the moment when their tyrants were languid^ or asleej| to escape from their enchantment^^ but the dominion of dolence', was constant' and unremitted^; and seldom resl'l ed', till resistance was in vain\ 14 After contemplating these things', I turned my eyes wards the top of the mountain', where tlie air was alwaj pure' and exhilarating', the path shaded with laurels^ ai evergreens', and the effulgence which beamed from the fa( of Science', seemed to shed a glory round her votaries^. Hal py', said I', are they who are permitted to ascend the moi iain^' But while I was pronouncini^ this exclamation^ fivermg les cau; ^lighter care w [3 Thus \d the >ked roii saw', shades coolne He di /, but uch ap id^; am had foi the ^ Parti phap.2. JVaiTattve Pieces. 43 at the call ol incommon ardour', I saw' standing beside me', a form ol vever', but a iiviner features', and a more benign radiance\ y lost sight ol T 15 " Happier'," said she', " are they wlwin Virtue con lins upon the iucts to tiie Mansions of Content'." " Wiiat'," said I' Lit resistance', '^ does Virtue then reside in tlie vale'?" lisery\ were endea- im the path o! I her appear- ;mpts', that 1 t for the nuiii- iins\ om proceedin? heir feet out ' ling their pro im to abandon id a power likt ength of thos r)y captives sti Iways hoped t j e frombeneal said she', " in the vale', and I illuminate the " I am found', J mountain\ I eer the cottager at his toil', and inspire the sage at his editation\ I niingle in the crowd of cities', and oless the rmit in his cell\ 1 have a temple in every heart that owns y influence', and to him that wishes for me', 1 am already esent\ Science may raise thee to eminence'; but I alone n guide thee to felicity'!" 16 While Virtue was thus speaking', I stretched out my ms towards lier', with a vehemence which broke my slum r'. The chill dews were falling around me', and the shades evening stretched over the landscaped I hastened home- rd', and resigned the night to silence' and meditation^ AIKEN. SECTION VII. The journey of a day; a picture of human life. OBIDAH', the son of Abensina', left the caravansera early the morning', and pursued his journey through the plains Indostan'. He was fresh' and vigorous with rest'; he was imated with hope'; he was incited by desire'; he walked iftly forward over the vallies', and saw the liills gradually lin^ before him'. 2 As he passed along', his ears were delighted with tlic rningsong of the bird of paradise'; he was fanned by the t flutters of the sinking breeze', and sprinkled with dew m groves of s}3ices\ He sometimes contemplated the ivering height ot the oak', monarch of the hills'; and some- ^les caught the gentle fragrance of the primrose', eldest athsof ScienwjBughter of the spring': all his senses were gratified', and llowers of !"?■ care was banished from his heart', ion' would oftfKs Thus he went on', till the sun approached his meridian', iguid^ or aslee]j|d the increased heat preyed upon his strength'; he then ked round about him for some more commodious path', saw', on his right hand', a grove that seemed to wave shades as a sign of invitation'; he entered it', and found coolness' and verdure' irresistibly pleasant'. He did not', however', forget wnither he was travel- ', but found a narrov^' way', bordered with flowers', Ich appeared to have the same direction with the main d'; and was pleased', that', by this happv experiment', had found means to unite pleasure^ with ousinees', and tiie rewards of diligence'^without suffering its iatisue8\ bottom', befcr • speared in the J melancholy lar eper gloom', i e', a dark an i ', and enlivene where startle I 1 the next raJ riominion of IS id seldom resi' med my eyes 8 air was alwaj nth laurels^ ai led from the fa : votaries^. Ha| scend the mo«] Kclamation', '''!^: '%■ h I u ..Si 44 The English Reader. Part 1 5 He', therefore', still continued to walk for a time', with- out the least remission ol* his ardour', except that he was sometimes tempted to stop by the music of the birds', whicli the heat had assembled in the shade'; and sometimes amus- ed himself with plucking the flowers that covered the banks oil each side', or the fruits that hung- upon the branches^ 6 At last', the green path began to decline from its first tendency', and to wind among hills^ and thickets', cooled with ibuntains'^j and murraunng with waterliills\ Here Obidah paused for a time', and began to consider whether ii were longer safe to forsake the known and common track'; but remembering that the heat Avas now in its greatest vio- lence', and that the plain was dusty^ and uneven , he resolved to j)ursue the new path', which he supposed only to make 3 few meanders', in compliance Avith the varieties of thi ground', and to end at last in the common road\ 7 Having thus calmed his solicitude', he renewed hii pace , though he suspected that he was not gaining ground This uneasmess of his mind', inclined him to lay hold oi every new object', and give way to every sensation tha might sooth' or divert hiiir. He listened to every echo^; l;t mounted every hill for a flresh prospect^: he turned aside ti every cascade'; and pleased himself witli tracing the courst of a gentle river that rolled among the trees', and watered ii| large region Avith innumerable circumvolutions^ 8 In these amusements', the hours passed aAvay unaci coiuited^; his deviations had perplexed his memory', and li( | knew not towards Avhat point to travef . He stood pensive aiid confused^ afraid to go forward', lest he should gi AATOng' past^ ^ 'hap, i Ihe dese ihie min^ jbiration^ founded rents tui llTh yet conscious that the time of loitering was nut While he Avas thus tortured with uncertainty', ih sky Avas overspread Avith clouds^; the day vanished from be | t^)re him'; and a sudden tempest ffathered round hishead\ 9 He Avas noAV roused bv his danger', to a quick and paiftj fui remembrance of his folly^; he noAV saAV how happinesn\ lost', Avhen ease is consulted^; he lamenied the unmanly iiii| patience that prompted him to seek shelter in the groyel and despised the petty curiosity that led him on from trlli(| to trifled While he was thus reflecting', the air grew blacken and a clap of thunder broke his meditation^ 10 He noAV resolved to do Avhat yet remained in his po)i|| er\ to tread back the ground which he had passed', and liT Xa find some issue where the wood might open into tne plainl He prostrated himsell'on the ground', and recommended hi bfe to the Lord ofNature^ He rose Avith confidence^ affl trajiauillity^, and pre»sed oil with resolution^ The beaststii III ". l;.' Viap, 2. JVa»Ya/ti'e Pieces* 49 tie desert were in motion', and on every hand were heard 16 raiiiffling howls of raffe^ and lear', and ravaffe' and ex- piration . All the horrors ol' darkness^ and solitude', sur- founded him^: the winds roared in the woods', and the tor- tenVi tumbled from the hills\ 11 Thus forlorn^ and distressed', he wandered throuffhthe nid', without knowing whither he was going', or whether \te was every moment drawing nearer to safety', or to de- ktruction\ At length', not fear', but iabour\ began to over- come him'; his breath grew short', and his knees trembled'; jnd he was on the point of lying down in resignation to his fate', when he beheld', through the brambles', the glimmer of tapcr\ 12 He advanced towards the lighf ; and finding that it J)roceeded from the cottage of a hermit', he called humbly at [he door', and obtained admission^ The old man set belbre lim such provisions as he had collected for himself, on which %in the gardens of pleasured We approach them with scruple' nd hesitation^; we enter tliem , but enter timorous and trembling''; and always hope to pass through them without jiosing the road of virtue', Avhich , for a Avhile', Ave keep in our light^, and to wliich we purpose to return\ But tempta m p':/' 46 The English Reader, Part 1 tion^ succeeds temptation', and one conip)liance' i)repares lor another^^ we in time lose tiie happiness of innocence', a solace our disciuiet with sensual gratifications^ 17 By degrees', we let lall the remembrance of our origi. nal intention', and (juit the only adequate object of rational desire\ We entangle ourselves in business', immerse our- selves in luxury\ and rove through the labyrinths ot incon- stancy'; till the darkness jf old age' begins to invade us', and disease^ and anxiety' obstruct our way^. We then look back upon our lives with liorror\ with sorrow', with repentance'; and wish', but too often vainly wish', that we had not lor- saken the ways of virtue\ 1 8 Happy are they', my son', who shall learn from thy ex- ample', not to despair'; but sliall remember', that', though the day is past\ and their strength is wasted', there yet re- mains one effort to be made^: that reformation is never hope- less', nor sincere endeavours ever unassisted'; that the wan- derer may at length return, after all his errors'; and that he who implores strength^ and courage' from above', shall find danger' and difficulty' give way before him\ Go now', my son , to thy repose''; commit thyself to the care of Omnii)o tence'; and when the morning calls again to toil', begin anevi tliy journey' and thy Ufe''." dr. johnson. CHAP. III. DIDACTIC PIECES. ' SECTION I. The importance of a good education. 1 CONSIDER a human *soul , without education', like marble in the quarry^: which shows none of its inherent oeau- ties', until the skill of tlie polisher' fetches out the colours'; makes the surface siiine', and discovers every ornamenta cloud\ spot\ and vein', that runs through the body of it' Education', after the san»e manner', when it works upon a|^ .loble mind', draws out to view everv latent virtue^ and per- 1 lection', which', without such helps , are never able to makef their appearance\ 2 If my reader will give rae leave to change the allusion| so soon upon him', I shall make use of the same instance toj illustrate the force of education', which Aristotle has brought! to explain his doctrine of substantial forms', when he tells us,| that a statue lies hid in a block of marble'^ and that the artl of the statuary only clears away the superfluous matter', and I removes the rubbish\ seulptoronly finds it\ The figure is in the stone', and thel 3 Wha human \ nse\ the m , and lies', we !lli:,i!:vil;i! UU 1 Part 1 j)repares u* )cerice', aiii )f our oriffi- ;t of rational nmer^e our- tlis ot incon- ratle us', and en look back repentance'; had notlbr* from thy ex- ;hat', though there yet re- i never hope- hat the wan- ; and that he /e', shall find Go now', my ; of Omiiipo ', begin ane^v JOHNSON. fhap, 3 Didactic Pieces* 41 ,^ 3 What sculpture is to a block of marble', education is to human souP. The philosopher^ the saint', or the hero\ the 'ise\ the ^ood\ or the ^reat man', very often lies hid and Dncealed ui a plebeian , which a proi)er education might lave disinterred , and brought to lights I am therelbre much __ 'lighted with reading the accounts of savage nations', and ^ih contemplating those virtues which are wild' and uncuV- ' 'ated^: to see coura«"e exerting itself in fierceness\ resolu- in in obstinacy^ wisdom in cunning', patience in suUenness' fid despair^ *' 4 Men's passions operate variously', and appear in differ- it kinds 01 actions', according as they are more or less recti- id and swayed by reason^ When one hears of negroes', Hio', upon the death of their masters', or upon changiuj^ eir service', hang themselves upon the next tree', as it 1. ucation', like nherent oeau- tlie colours', y ornamental;! le body of it' ivorks upon a ^metimes happens in our American plantations', who can (rbear admiring their fidelity', though it expresses itself in dreadful a manner'? 5 What might not that savage greatness of soul', wliich bpears in these poor wretches on many occasions', be raised ) , were it rightly cultivated'? And what colour of excuse in there be', for the contempt with which we treat this part our species', that we should not put them upon the oom- )n footing of humanity'; that we should only set an insig- icant fine upon the man who murdei's them'; nay', that fi should', as much as in us lies', cut them off from the fospects of happiness in another world', as well as in this'; )d deny them that which we look upon as the proper means attaining it'? 16 It is therefore an unspeakable blessing', to be born in )se parts of the world', where wisdom^ and knowledge' lurish^; though', it must be confessed', there are', even in pe parts', several poor uninstructed persons', who are but tie above the inhabitants of those nations', of which I have n here speaking'; as those who have had the advantages 'tue^ and per- Ma more lioeral education', rise above one another by seve- : able to makeBl different degrees of perfection^ [7 For', to return to our statue in the block of marble', we it sometimes only begun to be chipped', sometimes rough vn', and but just sketched into a human figure^; som&- les', we see the man appearing distinctly in all his limbs'" [d features'; sometimes', we find the figure wrought up to eat elegance^; but seldom meet with any to which the 1 of a Phidias^ or a Praxiteles', couU liot give several touches' and fini8hing8\ addisom e the allusioni le instance toi e has broughtj en he tells us,[ d that the art! s matter', andl one', and thej 48 •!p{ IM',' The Englith Reader. SECTION II. On gratitude. Ptni I THERE is not a more pleasing exercise of the mind' than gratitude''. It is accompanied with so great mwari! satisfaction', that the duty is sufficiently rewarded by the performance^ It is not^ like the practice of many other vir- tiies^ difficult^ and painfuK, but attended with so much plea- sure , that were there no positive command which enjoinec it'^ nor any recompense laid up for it hereafter', a generm mmd would indulge in it', for the natural ^o/i^ofton whict it affords^ 2 If gratitude is due from man^ to mar/, how much mon from man' to Jiis Maker\* The Supreme Being', does noi owe to others\ Common failmgs', are M strongest lesson of mutual forbearance\ Were this virtuf unknown among men', order' and comfbrt\ peace^ and roj pose', would be strangers to human life\ ' 2 Injuries retaliated according to the exorbitant measiin which p/imora prescribes', would excite resentment in return'j The injured person', would become the injurer^; and thu wrongs', retaliations^, and fresh injuries', would circulate ii endless succession', till the world was rendered afield of bloodi 3 Of all the passions which invade the human breast', rq venge is the most direful. When allowed to reign with fui dominion', it is more than sufficient to poison the few plea 6ures which remain to man in his present 8tate\ How mut Part 1 ^^P* '^* Didactic Pieces, 49 f the mind' great inwarc arded by the iny other vir- }o much plea- liich enjoinec r', a generm Hcation whid w much mow ing', does noi ceed more m benefits whict •we enjoy', b; ;', isthe gifto the Father o mother', natu ;the mind of i when it is em, this beneficcK ly possess', arc iOT^. ADDISOJ r equity^, con of forgiveness J ng', be allowe(| let such as ait| ^iveness ass lihngs^ are rere this virti!| peace^ and w. . )ever a person may suffer from injustice', he is always in ^zard of suflering more from the prosecution of revenge'. he violence of an enemy', cannot inHict wliat is equal to le torment he creates to himself', by means of the fierce'' id desperate passions', which he allows to rage in his souf. 1 4 Those evil spirits that inhabit the regions of misery', are lepresented as delighting in revenge' and cruelty^ But all Ihat is great^ and good in the universe', is on the side of cle- ency'and mercy\ The almighty Ruler of the world', though r ages offended by the unrighteousness', and insulted bv the piety of men', is " long-sullerin^' and slow to anger\ 5 His Son', when he appeared in our nature', exhibited , th in his life^ and his death', the most illustrious example * forgiveness', which the world ever beheld\ If we look to the history of mankind', we shall find that', in every e', they who have been respected as worthy\ or admired ' have been distmguished for this virtue^ A noble ^ bitant measui; nentinretuml Lirer^; and thu ►uld circulate il afield of blood] nan breast', r<| reign with n the few pleaj e\ Howmufl great , 6 Revenge dwells in little minds^ lOUS and ma^nsj- s spirit'^ is always superior to it\ It suffers not', Itoiu juries of n.'.Mi', those severe shocks which others ie injuries ot n.-.Mi', those severe shocks which others feel'. )llected within itself, it stands unmoved by their impotent ^saults^; and with generous pity"", rather than with anger' , >ks down on their unworthy conduct^ It lias been truly id', that the greatest man on earth', can no sooner commit injury'^ than a good man' can make liimself greater^ hy rgiving it\ SLAIR. SECTION IV. Motives to the practice of gentleness. [TO promote the virtue of gentleness', we ought to view jir character with an impartial eye^; and to learn', from our m failings', to give that indulgence which in our turn we lllgo , W 6»»v^ lll»l, 1IXUUIC,V^1IV\> TYIlH^Il i»» WMl bulla .r »■ iim\ It is pride which fills the world with so much harsh s' and severity\ In the fulness of self-estimation', we l-get what we are\ We claim attentions to which we are entitled\ We are rigorous to oflences', as if we had we knew not oflences', as if jver offended^; unfeeling to distress', pat it was to suffer\ From those airy regions of pride' folly', let us descend to our proper leveP. 12 Let us survey the natural=equality on which Providence I placed man^ Avith man', and reflect on the infirmities com- m to alP. If the reflection on natural equality^ and mutual bnces', be insufficient to prompthumanity', let us at letut re- buiber what we are in the sight of our Creator^. Have we te of that forbearance to give one another', which we all »> rnestly entreat flrom heaven'? Can we look fi)r clemency' i> C 5 m AQ The English Readet^ Part 1. or g-enllencss from our Judjje', whuii we are so backward to show It to our own brethren''? 3 Let us also accustom ourselves to reflect on tlie small moment of those thiui^s''. which are the usuail incentives to violence' ami contentions In the rulllcd^ and angrv hour', we view every ai)i)ourance through a false medium . The most inconsitlerable point of intere8t\ or honour', swells into a momentous ohject'i and the slightest attack', seems to threaten immediate rum\ 4 But alVer passion^ or pride' has subsided', we look around in vain lor the mig-Jity mischiefs we dreaded\ The liibric' which our disturhcd ima^i^ination had reared', totally disap- pears\ But though ihe caune of contentitm has dwindled iiway', its cnnsequehccs remain\ AVe have alienated a iriend\ we have imhittered an en(Mny\ we have sown tlie seeds oi future suspicion^ malevolem-e ,or disgust\ 5 Let \is suspend our violence lor a moment', when causes of discord occur\ Let us anticipate that perio(l of coolness', which', of itself will soon arrive\ Let us reflect how little we have any prospect of gaining by fierce contention', but how much of tlie true happiness of lite', we are certain of tljrovving away\ Easily', and from the smallest chink', the hitter waters of strife are let forth^; but their course cannot he Ibreseeif: fi»'l /'^ seldom linls of suflering most from their poisonous elVect', who flrst allows them to flow\ blair. SECTION V. A suspicious temper the source of misery to its possessor. AS a suspicious spirit' is the source of many crirne8\an picious dis|)08ition', that', of the two extremes , it is more 0111,^1)16 to expose tmrselves to occasional disadvantage from tliinkin^ too well of others', than to suffer continual misery by thinking always t//of tliem\ It is better to be sometimes imposed upon^ than never to trust'. Safety is purchased at too dear a rate\ when', in order to secure it', we are obliged to he always clad in armour', and to live in perpetual hostility with our lellows\ 5 This is', lor the sake of living', to deprive ourselves of tlie comlbrt of life\ The man of candour enjoys his situa- tion', whatever it is', with cheerfulness' and peace\ Pru- dence directs his intercourse with the world', and no black suspicions haunt his hours of re8t\ Accustomed to view the characters of his neighbours in the most favourable light', he is like one who dwells amidst those beautiful scenes of nature', on which the eye rests with pleasured 6 Whereas the suspicious man', having liis imagination filled with all the shocking forms of human falsehood\ deceit\ and treachery', resembles the traveller in the wilderness', who discerns no objects around him but such as are either dreary' or terrible^; caverns that yavvn\ serpents that hiss', and beasts of prey that howP. SECTION VI. ComfoHs of religion. liieir friends\ their cliildren', and perhaps still more tender connexions'. What resource can this world afford them'? It presents a dark and drear)r waste', through which there does not issue a single ray of comfort^. 2 Every delusive prospect of ambition' is now at an erld^; long experience of mankind', an experience very different from what the open and generous soul of youth had fondly dreamt of. has rendered the heart almost inaccessible to new friendships . The principal sources of activity' are taken away', when those for whom we labour' are cut off from us^: those who animated\ and who sweetened', all the toils oflife\ 3 Where then can the soul find refuge', but in the bosom 62 2%e English Reader. Parti of relia:ion\'' There she is admitted to those prospecta ol Providence^ and futurity', which alone can warm and fill the hearth I speak here of such as retain the feelings of hu- manity'; whom misfortunes have soflened', and perhaps rendered more delicately sensible^; not of sucli as possess that stupid insensibility , which some are pltased to dignijy with the name of Philosophy''. 4 It might therefore be expected', that tliose^ philosophers', who think they stand in no need themselves of the assistance of relig-ion to support their virtue', and who never feel the want of its consolations', would yet have the humanity to consider the very different situation of the rest of mankind''; and not endeavour to deprive them of Vv-hat habit', at least', ii'tliey will not allow it to be nature', has made necessary to their morals', and to their happiness\ 5 It might be expected', that humanity would prevent them from breaking mto the last retreat of the unfortunate', who can no longer oe objects of their envy^ or reseiiUnent', and tearing from them their only remaiiiing comlbrt\ The attempt to ridicule religion may be agreeable to some', by relievmg them from restraint upon their pleasures^; and may render o^/tcrs very lniseral)le', hy m.king them doubt those truths'', in which they were most deeply interested^; but it can convey real good and happiness' to no one individuaf. SECTION VII. GREGORY. Diffidence of our abilities, a mark of wisdom. IT is a sure indication of good sense', to be diffident of it\ We then', and not fi7i then , are growing idsc, when we begin to discern how weak and unwise we are\ An abso- lute perfection of understanding', is impossible^: he makes the nearest approaches to it', who has the sense to discern^ and the humilitv to acknowledge' its imperfections\ 2 Modesty always sits gracefully upon youth^; it covers a multitude of faulty', and doubles the lustre of every virtue which it seems to hide^: the perfections of men being like those flowers which appear more beautiful', when their feavijs are a little contracted and folded up', than when they are full blown', and display themselves', without any reserve', to the view\ 3 We are some of us very fond of knowledge', and apt to value ourselves upon any proficiency in the sciences^: one sci- ence', however', there is', worth more than all the rest^; and that is', the science of iiving welf; this shall remain', when * tongues shall ceaije'," and knowledge shall vanish away \" Chap, 3. Didactic Pieces. 83 4 As to new notions^ and new doctrines', of which this age is very fruitful', the time will come', when we shall have no pleasure in them^: nay', the time shall come', when they shall be exploded^ and would have oeen forgotten', if they had not been preserved m those excellent books', which con tain a confutation of them^; like insects oreserved for ages in amber', which otherwise would soon have returned to the common mass of thin^\ 5 But a firm beliefof Christianity\ and a practice suitable to it', will support and invigorate the mind to the last^; and most of all', at last\ at that important hour', which must de- cide our hopes' and apprehensions^: and the wisdom', which', like our Saviour', cometh from above', will', through his merits', bring us thither\ All our othe^' studies^ and pur- suits', however different', ought to be subservient /o', and centre i»', this g-rand point', the pursuit of eternal happiness', by being good m ourselves' , and useful to the world\ seed. SECTION VIII. Oil the importance of order in the distribution of our time. TIME', we ought to consider as a sacred irust\ commit- ted to us by God', of which we are now the depositaries', and are to render an account at the last\ That yjar/ton of it which he has allotted to US'; is intended partly for the con- cerns o£this world', partly for those of the next'^. Let each of these occupy', in the distribution of our time', that space which properlv belongs to it\ 2 Let not the hours of hospitality^ and pleasure', interfere with the discharge of our necessary affairs'; and let not what we cM necessary affairs', encroach upon the time which is due to devotion^ To every thing there is a season', and a time for every purpose under the lieaven\ If we delay till to-morrow what ought to be done to-day'^ we overcharse the morrow with a burden which belongs not to it\ We load tlie wheels of time', and prevent them from carrying us along smoothly^ 3 He who everv morning plans the transactions of the day\ and follows out that plan', carries on a thread Avhich will guide him through the labyrinth of tne most busy life\ The orderly arrangement of his time', is like a ray of light', which darts itself through all his affairs^ But', where no plan is laid', where the disposal of time is surrendered merely to the chance of incidents', all things lie huddled together in ono chaos', which admits neither of distribution' nor review\ 4 The first requisite for introducing order into the manage- ment of time', is', to be impressed Avith a just sense of ita :, i-A . 'i- I. lil 64 The English Reader. Parth 1C%.2 • ^11 *f:^-i! vaiue\ Let us consider well how much depende upon it^, and hoMrfast it flies away\ The bulk of men are in nothing more capricious^ and inconsistent', than in their appreciation of Hme\ When they think of it', as the measure of their continuance on earth , they highly prize it', and with the greatest anxiety seek to lengthen it ouO. 5 But when they view it m separate parcels', they appear to hold it in contempt', and squander it with inconsiderate profusion\ While they complain that life is short', they are often wishing its different periods at an end\ Covetous of every otiier possession', of time only they are prodigal. They allow every idle man to be master of this property', and make every rrivolous occupation welcome that can help liiem to consume it\ 6 Among those who are so careless of time', it is not to be expected that arder should be observed in its distribution^ But', by this latal neglect', how many materials of severe and lasting regret', are they laying up in store for themselves^! The time which they sutfer to pass away in the midst of con- fusion', bitter repentance seeks afterwards in vain to recalf. What was omitted to be done at its proper moment', arises to be the torment of some future season\ 7 Manhood is disgraced by the consequences of neglected youth\ Old a^e', oppressed by cares that belonged to a for- mer period', labours under a burden not its own\ At the close of life , the dying man beholds with anguish that his days are finishing', when his preparation for eternity is hardly commenced^ Such are the effects of a disorderly waste of time', through not attending to its value\ Every thing in the life of ««c^ persons', is misplaced^ Nothing is performed aright', from not being performed in due season\ 8 But he who is orderly in the distribution of his time', takes the proper method of escaping those manifold evils\ and his own soul', and', at the same'time'. attend to all the lawful interests of the present world\ He looks back oa the past',' and provides fi^r the future\ 9 He catches^ and arrests' the hours as they fly\ They are marked down for useful purposes', and their memory re- mains\ Whereas those hours fleet by the man of confusion', like a 8hadow\ His days^ and years', are either blanks', of which he has no remembrance', or they are filled up with so confused and irregular a successionof unfinished transactions' that though he remembers he has been busy', vet he can Part U m C^' 3. Dtdactic Pieces, 56 ace^: mort |nve no account of the business which has employed him*. BLAIR. SECTION IX. The dignity of virtue amidst corrupt examples. THE most excellent^ and honourable' character which i can adorn a man^ and a Christian', is acquired by resisting !the torrent of vice\ and adherin* to the cause of God^ and virtue' against a corrupted multitude^ It will be Ibund to hold in general', that they', who', in any of the great lines of life', have distinguished themselves lor thinking profoundly \ and actuig nobly', have despised popular prejudices', and [departed'jin several things', from the common ways of the 1 worlds 2 On no occasion is this more requisite for true honour', I than where religion^ and morality' are concerned^ In times [of prevailuig licentiousness', to maintain unblemished virtue\ and wniAn ■ iptad integrity', in a public^ or a private cause', jto stand ^r u ' what is fair^ana just', amidst discourage- ments' r,i V ij jsition^; despising groundless censure' and re- proach^; 11. -i^uiing all compliance with public manners', wiien they are vicious^ and unlawful'; and never ashamea of the punctual discharge of every duty towards God' and man^; thkiswhat shows true greatness of spirit', and will force ap- probation even from the degenerate multitude themselves^ I 3 " This is the man'," (their conscience will oblige then) Ito acknowledge',) " whom wc ai e unable to bend to mean |Condescen8ions\ We see it in vrain either to flatter' or to threaten him^ he rests on a principle within', which we can- not shake\ To this man', we may', on any occasion', satelv Icommit our caused He is incapable of betraying his trust , I or deserting his friend', or denying his faith\" 4 It is', accordingly', this steady inflexible virtue', this re |gard to principle', superior to all custom^ and opinion', which Eeculiarfy marked the characters of those in any age', who aye shone with distinguished lustre'; and has consecrated their memory to all posterity^ It was this that obtained to [ancient Enoch', the most singular testimony of honour from |heaven\ 6 He continued to " walk with God'." when the world [apostatized from him\ He pleased God , and was bek)ved [of him^; so that living among sinners', he was translated to fheaven \^thout seeing death': " Yea', speedily vvas he taken away', lest wickedness should have altered his understand- ling', or deceit beguiled his souP " I save 6 When Sodom could not furnish ten righteous men to ve it', Lot remained unspotted amidst the contagion\ He (^:l • ' I ' •5 i m :'• i^i' 66 The English Reader, Jved like an angel among spirits of darkness^: and the da* strojdng flame was not permitted to go ibrth^ till the good man was called away'', by a heavenly messenger^, from his devoted city\ 7 When " all flesh had corrupted their wav upon the earth^" then lived Noah', a righteous man', and a preacher of righteousness\ He stood alone', and was scofied by the profane crew^ But they by the deluge were swept away', ; while on him', Providence conferred the immortal honour' o\ being a restorer of a better race', and the father of a new world\ Such examples as these\ and such honours confer- , red bv God on them who withstood the multitude of evil ^ doers , should often be present to our minds\ 8 Let us oppose them to the numbers of low^ and corrupt i examples', which we behold around us^; and when we are ui i hazard of being swayed by such', let us fi)rtify our virtue', ; by thinking of those', who , in former times', shone like stars ' in the midst of surrounding darkness'^ and are now shining in the kingdom of heaven , as the bnghtnes? of the firma- ment', for ever' and ever^ BLAIR. SECTION X. The mortifications of vice greater tJuin those of virtue* THOUGH no condition of human life', is free from unea- siness', yet it must be allowed', that the uneasiness belong- ing to a sinful course', is far greater' than what attends a j course of well-doing-'^. If we are weary of the labours of - virtue^, we may be assured', that the world', whenever we [ try the exchange', will lay upon us a much heavier load\ 2 It is the outside only', of a licentious life', which is gay j and smiling'. Within^ it conceals toil\ and trouble', and deadly sorrow\ For vice poisons human happiness in the I spring', by introducing disorder into the heart . Those pas- f sions which it seems to indulge', it only feeds with imperfect | gratifications', and thereby strengthens them for preyuig', in tlie end', on their unhappy victims\ 3 It is a great mistake to imagine', that the pain of self- denial', is confined to virtue\ He wlio follows the world', as | much as he who foHows Christ', must " take up his cross\" and to him', assuredly', it will prove a more oppressive, bur- den^ Vice allows all our passions to range uncontrolled^; and where each claims to be superior', it is impossible to gratify a/Z\ The predominant desire', can only be indulged at the expense of its rivaP. 4 No mortifications which virtue exacts', are more severe llian those' which ambition imposes upon the love of eaBe\ Part 1. mphap, 3. Didactic Pieces. 67 Wde\ uponinlerest'. and covetousness', upon vamty\ Sell* leniar, therefore'', belongs', in common', to vice^ and virltie^j ut with this remarkable difiereiice\ that the passions which iriue requires us to mortify'', it tends to weaken^; whereas^ jiose which vice obliges us to deny', it'', at the same time , Jrengthens^ The one diminishes the pain of self-denial'', by Moderating the demand of passion'; the other increases it , rendering these demands nnperious' and violent^ 5 What distresses that occur in the calm lile of virtue', in be compared to t^ose tortures', which remorse of con bience inflicts on the v/icked^; to those severe humiliations^, rising from guilt', combined with misfortunes', which sink kem to the dust-; to those violent agitations of shame^ and ^appointment', v^hich sometimes drive them to the most [taf extremities', and make them abhor their existence** low often', in the midst of those disastrous situations', intb [hich their crimes have brought them', have they execrated |e seductions of vice'; and', with bitter regret', looked back the day on which they first forsook the path of innocencie''! BLAIB SECTION XI. On contentment. [CONTENTMENT produces', in some measure', all those ^cts which the alchymist usually .n scribes to what he calls philosophers' stone^; and if it does not brin?^ ,'ichef', it 3S the same thing', by banishing the desire ofthem\ If it Innot remove the disquietudes ai-ising from a man's mii)d\ |dy\ or fortune', it makes him easy under them^ It has leed a kindly influence on the soul of man', in respect of Bry hein^ to whom he stands reiated\ }^ It extmguishes all murmur\ repining\ and ingratitude', ^ards that Being who has allotted him his part to act in world\ It destroys all inordinate ambition\ and every idency to corruption', with regard to the community jierein he is placed^ It gives sweetness to his conversa^ |n\ and a perpetual serenity to all his thoughts\ Among the many methods which might be made use of Y acquiring this virtue', I shall mention only the two foUow- ^\ First of all', a man should always consider how much [has more than ne wants'; and secondly', how much moce lappy he might be', than he really w\ First', a man should alv/ays consider how much he has kre than he want8\ I am wonderfully pleased with th)S bly which Aristippus made to one', who condoled with him m the bss of a farm^: » Wl C2 0'^" said he', " I have thre€ M»' I I -I..* i'iilH'i lii 58 The Englith Reader. PoHll iknns «(t2I\ and you have but one'^; so that I ought rather i be afflicted for you\ than vou for me\" 5 On the contrary^ foolish men are more apt to considd what they have tort', than what they possess^ ^ and to fix the] eyes upon those who are richer than themselves^, rather thaj on those who are under greater d^tdties^. All the rA gleasures^ and conveniences of life', lie in a narrow compass! ut it is the humbur of mankind to be always looking fo| ward', and straining after one who has got the start of the in wealth' and honour\ 6 For this reason', as none can be properly called rich\ wS have not hiore than they want', there are few rich men( any of the politer nations', but among the middle sort of i pie', who keep their wishes within their fortunes', and haij more wealth than they know howtoenjoy\ 7 Persons of a higher rank', live in a kind of splendid . verty''; and are perpetually wanting'^, because', instead [ acquiescing in the solid pleasures oflife', they endepvour j outvie one another in shadows' and appearances\ Men| sense have at all times beheld', with a great deal of mir this silly game that is playing over their heads^; and', contracting their desires', they enjoy all that secret satisfa tion which of/iers are always in quest of \ 8 The truth is', this ridiculous chase after imaginary pi sures', cannot be sufficiently exposed', as it is the great so of those evils which generally undo a nation\ Let a mi estate be what it may', he is a poor man', if he does not 13 within it^; and naturally sets himself on sale to any one ♦" can ffive him his price\ 9 When Pittacus', after the death of his brother', who left him a good estate', was offered a great sum of money] the king of Lydia', he thanked him for his kindness', but t him', he had already more by hedf than he knew wnat to with . In short', content is equivalent to wealth', and UtixM to poverty^; or', to give the tJiought a more agreeable tuij " Content is natural wealth^" saw Socrates^; to which If add', luxury is artificial poverty \ 10 I shall therefore recommend to the consideratiool those', who are always aiming at superfluous^ and imaj, enjoyments', and who will not be at the trouble of contr ing their desires', an excellent saying of Bion the philij pher\ namely\ " That no man has so much care', as tie endeavours after the most happiness^" 11 In the second place', everv one ought to reflect I much more unhappy he migfu be', than tie really m\— 1 /on»5r consideration took in all those', who are'suflicie'' 3. Didactic Pieces. 69 k rided with tlie means to make themselves easy^; this Lrds such as actually lie under some pressure or mis hie\ These may receive great alleviation'', from such a arison as tlie unhappy person may make Between him- and others'; or between the mislbrtune which he suffers', reater misfortunes which might have belallen him\ I like the story of the honest Dutchman'', who', upon ing his leg by a fall from the mainmast', told the stand- ', it was a great mercy that it was not his neck\ To ', since I am got into quotations', give me leave to add yin^ of an old philosopher', who', after having invited of his friends to dine with him', was ruffled by a person same into the roomin apassion', aiidthrewdown the table stood before them\ " Every one'," says he', " has his ca- ly^j and he is a happy man that has no greater than this\" I We find an instance to the same purpose', in the life of }r Hammond', written by bishop FeU\ As this good was troubled with a complication of distempers', when [d the gout upon him', he used to thank God that it wao ^e sione^; and when he had the stone', that he had not these distempers on him at the same time\ [l cannot conclude this essay without observing*, that never was any system besides that of Christianity , II could effectually produce in the mind of man', the vir- jhave been hitherto speakh^g of \ In order to make us (nted with our condition', many of the present philoso- tell us', that our discontent only hurts ourselves', with- leiiiff able to make any alteration in our circumstances^: \\ tliat whatever evil befalis us is derived to us by a fatal sity', to which superior beings themselves are subject'; others', very gravely ^ tell the man who is miserable', is necessary he should be so', to keep up the lic^mony universe^; and that the scheme of Providence would lubled^ and perverted', were he otherwise'^. JThese', and the like considerations', rather silence than a man'. They may show him that his discontent is »on«6Zc\ but they are by no means sufficient to relieve |hey rather give despair^ than consolation'. In a word', \ mi^ht reply to one of these comforters', as Augustus I his Triend', who advised him not to grieve for the death rson whom he loved', because his griejf could not fetch ^in^: " It is for that very reason',' said the emperor'', grieve\" the contrary', religion bears a more tender regard lan nature\ It prescribes to every miserable man the of bettering his condition^: nay', it shows hira' tliai m w. n. :, I v.; I ti; 00 The English Reader. Par '^\ Wy'l kearinff his afflictions as he oug-ht to do', vnW naturally ( in the retnoval of them\ It makes him easy here\ hecau can make hmi liappy hereafter", addisoiI SECTION XII. Rank and riches afford no ground for envy. OF all the grounds of envy anioii^ men', superioritj| raiik^ and fortune', is the most gcneraP. Hence', the mai nity which the poor^. commonly bear to the n'c/i', as engr ing to themselves all the conilorts of life^ Hence', the i eye with which persons of inferior station', scrutinize tb who are above them in rank"; and if they approach to i rank', their envy is generally strongest against such asj just one step higher than themselves . 2 Alas'! my Iriends', all this envious disquietude', wli ngitates the world', arises from a deceitful n;^re which jwses on the public vievv\ False colours are nung out^: [ real state of men', is not what it seems to be\ The ordeil society', requires a distinction ofrankstotake plaCe^: buJ point oiJiappiness'i all men come much nearer to equalil than is commonly imagined^; and the circumstances', wl( form any material difference of happiness among them',i not of that nature which renders them grounds or envy \ 3 The poor man possesses not', it is true', some ofl conveniences' and pleasures of the rich^; but', in return'J is free from an^ emnarrassmonts to which they are subjef By the simplicity^ and unifrrmity of his life', he is delive from that variety of cares', which perplex those who ra variety great affiiirs to manage perpl( irjtricate plans to pursue', pnl enemies', perhaps', to encounter in the pursuit\ 4 In the tranquillity of his small habilation\ and _ Ihmily', he enjoys a peace which is often unknown atcouij The gratifications of nature', which are always the n satisfactory', are possessed by him to their full extent^; art he be a stranger to the refined pleasures of the wealthy'! IS unacquainted also with the desire of them', and', by coJ quence', feels no want\ 5 His plain meal satisfies his appetite', with a relish prol bly higher than that of the rich man', who sits down to| luxurious banquet\ His sleep is more sound^; his he more firm^; he knows not what sp!ecn\ languor', and listlJ ness are\ His accustomed employments^ or labouf <', f not more oppressive to him', than the labour of attenda on courts', and the great\ the labours of dre8s\ the fit of amusement8\ the very weight of idleness', irequentlyj to the rich 3p. 3. Didactic Pieces. m In the mean time'', all the beauty of the face ol nature^ the enjoyments of domestic society\ all the gayety ana jrl'ulnessof an easy mind', are as open to him as to tliose [lie highest rarik^. The splendour ol" retinue\ the sound |tles\ the appearances of hi W lire health' and prosperitv^ The least trifle is suflficieiij discompose his mind/ andi poison his pleasures^ His vj amusemeiUB are mixed with turbulence^ and passion^ 4 I would beseech this man to consider^ of what moment the provocations which he receives^ or ai least A gines himself to receive^ are really in themselves^; butj what ^eat moment he makes thera', by suHerino- their deprive him of the possession of himself \ I wouid bes^ him to consider', how many hours of happiness he thn away', which a little more patience would allow him to| joy^; and how much he puts it in the power of the insignificant persons', to render him miserable'. 6 " But who can expect'," we hear him exfelaim', " thai is to possess the insensibility of a stoned'' How is it poss l<>r human nature to endure so many repeated provocatioj fjr to bear calmly with so unreasonable behaviour\^"- brother'! if thou canst bear with no instances of unreason behaviour', withdraw thyself from the worlds Thou an longer fit to live in it\ Leave the intercourse of men\ treat to the mountain^ and the desert', or shut thyself upl ceir. For here', in the midst of society', offences must ca 6 We might as well expect', when we behold a calm ad piiere\ and a clear sky', that no clouds were ever to rise\| no winds to blow', as that our life were Ion"" to proceed', i out receiving [)rovocations from human Irailty^ The card and the imprudent', the giddy' and the fickle', the ungrati and the interested , every where meet us\ They arel briers^ and thorns', with which the paths of human lifej besets He only', who can hold his course among them i patience^ and equanimity', he who is prepared to bear ' he must expect to happen , is worthy of the name of a 7 If we preserved ourselves composed but for a momJ have subsided^; the cause of our present impatience^ andj turbance', will be utterly lbrgotten\ Can we not then i cdpate this hour of calmness to ourselves'; and begin toe the peace which it will certainly bring'.^ 8 II' others have behaved improperly', let us leave thd their own folly', without becoming the victim of thcirj pnce', and punishing ourselves on their account''. — Patieil m, I 6« The English Reader Pott I h I fallacious nature ol' those objects^ whicli the world hangs out to allure desired 6 You have strayed', my friends', from the road wliich conducts to lelicity^: you have dishonoured the native dignity of your souls', in allowing your wishes to terminate on nc- thing higher than worldly ideas of (jreatness' or happines8\ Four imagination roves m a land o( shadows^. Unreal farm I decei"e you\ It is no more than a phantom^ an illusion of I Happiness', which attracts your lond admiration^; nay', an illu- sion of happiness', which often conceals much real misery\ 7 Do you imagine that all are happy', who have attained I to those summits of distinction', towards which your wishes! aspire'? Alas'! how frequently has experience shown', thatjl where roses were suppr »sod to bloom', nothing but briers'^ and \'\ tiioms' g-rew^! ReputHtion\ beauty\ riches', grandeur\ nay',; royalty itself ,vfou\d\ many a time', have been gladly ex- dianged by the possessors', lor that more quiet^ and humble! station'^ with which you are now dissatisfied^ f 8 With all that is splendid^ and shining in the world', it is! decreed that there should mix many deep shades of wo\[ On the elevated situations of fortime', the great calamities of j life chiefly falf . There', the storm sj>ends its violence', audi there', the thunder breaks^; while, safe and unhurt', the in! habitants of the vale remain below^; — Retreat', then', Ironif those vain and pernicious excursions of extravagant desire\| 9 Satisfy yourselves with what is rational' and attainableVl Train your minds to moderate views of human life'j and hu- man happiness^ Remember', and admire' the wisdom ol Amur's petition^ " Remove far from me vanity' and lies\-^ n,«i» T«« r.oUi^^» '^overty' nor riche3\ Feed me with foe* ^* lest I be full and deny thee', and saj convenient for me who is the Lord\^ or lest I be poor\ and steal', arid take tl name of my God in vain\" blair. SECTION XV. Qmniscienee and omninresenee cfthe Deitt, the source ojl consolation to good men. [ I WAS yesterday'^ about sunset',walking in the open fields; tfll the night insensibly fell upon me\ I at first amused my) self with all the richness^ and variety of colours', which ap peared in the western parts of heaven\ In proportion as the| laded away^and went out', several sfars^ ana planets'appearel one after another', till the whole firmament' was in a glow] 2 The blueness of the ether was exceedingly heightei smd enlivened', hy the season of the year'^ and the rays : all those luminaries that passed through it\ The gat Part L M Chap, 8. Didactic Pieces, 65 appeared in ils mo6t beautiful white\ To complete tne 8« a social interest', joined with others , such an absurd'ty as not to be admitted'? The bee\ the beaver\ and the tribes of herding animals', are sufficient to convince me', that the thing is somewhere at least possible^ 4 How', then', ;im I assured that it is not equally true of man\'' Admit it', and what tbllovvs\'' If so', thca honour'' and justice' are my interest'; then the whole train of moral i>tr- tu£s are my interest\ without some portion of whi'jh', not even thieves can maintain society\ 5 But', fartiier still^— I stop nothere^— I pursue this social idetl every ere am T? nimodated ) excess ot nnoyedby p Is every [\\ myself \' e\ ide for the But is it rticular m- eaven'^ and Wiiat con- :haii thi3\^ of others', I can never rest at all? But why le separate lers', such le beaver\ :o convince ally true ol lonour" and moral i>tr- whi'ih', not »this80ciai C/iop. 4. Argumentative Pieces, 69 interest as far as I can trace my several relation8\ I pnss from my own stock\ my own neiffhbourliood\ my own nation', to the whole race of mankind', as dispersed throughout the earth\ And am I not related to them all', by the mutual aids of commerce', by the general intercourse of arts and letters', by tiiat common, nature of which we all participate'? 6 Again^ — I must have food' and clothing^ Without a proper g;enial warmtii', I instantly perisiO. Am I not related', m tliis view', to tlie very earth itself: to the distant sun', from whose beams I derive vigour ? to tJiat stujjeiidous course and order of the infinite host of heaven', by which the imes and seasons ever unif()rmly pass on'? 7 Were tliis order once conibunded', I could not probably survive a moment*; so absolutely do I depend on tnis com- mon general welfare\ What', then', have I to do', but to enlarge virtue' into ]^iety\^ Not only honour^ and justice^ and. what i ov/e to man\ is my interest''; but gratitude also^, acqui- escence\ resignation\ adoration\ and all I owe to this great polity', and its great Governor our common Parent\ harkis. SECTION III. llie injustice of an vnchantahle spint. A SUSPICIOUS\ uncharitable spirit', is not only incon- sistent with all social virtue^ and happiness', but it is also', in itself, unreasonable' and unjust\ In orcler to form sound opinions concerning pharacters^ and actions', two things are especially reauisite^: information' and impartiality^ But such as are most forward to decide unfavourably', are commonly destitute of hotJi}. Instead of possessing', or even requiring , full information', the grounds on which they proceed are he- quently the most slight' and frivolous\ I 2 A tale', perhaps', which the idle have invented^ the in- quisitive have listened to', and the credulous have, propa- gated^; or a real incident', which rumour', in carrying: it along', has exaggerated^ and disguised', supplies them with materials of confident assertion', and decisive judgment^ From an action', they presently look into the heart', and in- Iferthe motive\ This supposed motive they conclude to be Ithe ruling principle^; and pronounce at once concerning the I whole characters 3 Nothing can be more contrary both to equity^ and lo [sound reason', than this precipitate judf.Tment\ Any man Iwho attends to what passes within liimself, may easi'y dis- Icernwhat a complicated system the bun. an character is'; land what a variety of circumstances must be taken into the laccount', in order to estimate it truly^. No single instance [of conduct', whatever', is suflicient to determine lO. ' ' ' 'I ■ ■ ^ i ' : ' ! ■ : hi ' ! 70 The English Reader, Parti ;i f ■•■^!!i I 4 As from one worthy action', it were credulity\Tiot char- ity', to conclude a person to be li-ee from ail vice'; so from one which is censurable', it is perfectly unjust to infer that the autiior of it is without conscience', and without merits If we knew all the attending circumstances', it might appear in an excusable light^; nay', perhaps', under a commenaahle form\ The motives of the actor may have been entirely different from those which we ascribe to him'; and where we suppose him impelled by bad designs', he may have been prompted by conscience', and mistaken principled 5 Admitting the action to have been in every view crimi- nal^, he may have been hurried into it through madvertency' axiJ surprised He may have sincerely repented^; and the virtuous principle may have now refined its full vigour\ Perliaps this was the corner of frailty^; the quarter on which he lay open to the incursions of temptation': while the othei' avenues of his heart', were firmly guarded by conscience^ 6 It is therefore evident', that no part of the government of temper', deserves attention more', than to keep our minds pure fVom uncharitable prejudices', and open to candour^ and humanity' in judging of others\ The worst conse- quences', both to ourselves^ and to society', follow fi'om the opposite spmi^, blair. SECTION IV. The misfortunes of men mostly chargeable on themselves. "WE find man placed in a world', where he has by no means the disposal of the events that happen^ Calamities; sometimes befall the worthiest^ and the best', which it is not; in their power to prevent', and where nothing is lefl them',| but to acknowlcds'e\ and to submit/ to the high hand off Heaven\ For such visitations of trial', many good^ and wisel reasons', can be assigned', which the present subject leads! me not to discus8\ 2 But though those unavoidable calamities make a part',| yet they make not the chief part', of the vexations^ and sor-' rows' that distress human lite\ A multitude of evils Jaeset] us', for the source of which', we must look to another quar-j ter\ — No sooner has any thing in the health\ or in the cir 1 cumstances of men', gone cross to their wish', than they be-l mn. to talk of the unequal distribution of the good tilings oil tnis lifie^; thev envy the condition of others^; they repine at! their own lot , and fret against the Ruler of the world . I 3 Full of these sentiments', one man pines under a brokeul oOQiititution\ But let us ask him', whether he can', fairly^ andl Pari\ I ^^P' **• »Arguinmiative Pieces, 71 honestly', assiffn no cause for tJiis', but the unknown decree orheaven\'' Has he duly valued the blessing oi" liealth', and always observed the rules cf virtue^ and sobriety''? Has he been moderate in liis lile^ and temperate in all his pleasures^? If now he is only paying the price of his Ibrmer', perhaps his forgotten indulgences , has he any title to complain'', as if he were sullering unjustly'? 4 Were we to surve:^^ the cliambers of sickness^ and dis- tress'', we sliould often find them peopled with the victims of intemperance^ and sensuality'', and with the children of vici- ous indolence' and sloth\ Among the thousands who lan- guish there'', we should find the proportion of innocent suf- lerers to be smalP. We should see faded youth^, premature old age^, and the prospect of an untimely grave*", to be the portion of multitudes'', who*", in one^ way or other', have j Drought those evils on tliemselves^; while yet these martyrs of \ice^ and folly', have the assurance to arraign the hard [fate of man', and to " fi:et against the _Lord\" But you', perhaps', complain of hardships of another Ikind^; of the injustice of the workf; of the poverty which Ivou suffer', and the discouragements under which you la- Ipour^; of the crosses^ and disai ^ointments'', of which your life has been doomed to be full\ — Before you give too much scope to your discontent', let me desire you to reflect impar- tially upon your past train cf life\ 6 Have not sloth^ or pride', ill temper\ or sinful passions', lisled you often from the path of sound and wise conducf"? lave you not been wanting to yourselves in improving those )pportunities which Provi4e7ice offered you', for bettering md advancing your state'? If you have chosen to indulge k'ourhumour\ or your taste', in the gratifications of indolence' y pleasure', can you complahi because others', in preference lo you', have obtained those advantages which naturally be- ^ng to useful labours'', and honourable pursuits'? 7 Have not the consequences of some false steps', into rtiich your passions\ or your pleasures', have betrayed you', brsued you through much or your life'^; tainted', perhaps', [our characters', involved you in embarrassments', or sunk lou into neglect^'' — It is an old saying', mat every man is le artificer of^ his own fortune in the worid\ It is certain', lat the world seldom turns wholly against a man', unless irough his own faults " Religion is ," "n general'', " pro- |table unto all things\" 8 Virtue\ diligence^ and industry', joined with good tem- \ and prudence', have ever been found the surest road to rosiTenty"*; and where men fail of attaining it', their w^ant of 72 The English Reader, Part 1. V' ';' in ii!' I success is far oftener owin;» to their having deviated from that road', than to their having encountered insuperable bars in it\ Some', bv being too artluK, Ibrleit the reputation o. probity\ Some , by being too open', are accounted to lail in prudence\ Others', by being fickle^ and changeable', are distrusted by alP. 9 The case commonly is', that men seek to ascribe their disappointments to any cause', rather than to tiieir own mis- conouct^; and when tliey can devise no other cause', they lay them to the charge of Providence\ Their folly leads them into vices^; their vices into misiortunes'; and m their misfortunes they " mui-mur against i*rovidence\" 10 They are ^/o«W// unjust towards their Creator^ In their prosperity', they are apt to ascribe their success to their own diligence', rather than to his blessing^: and in their adver- sity', they impute their distresses to liis providence', not to their own misbehaviour\ Whereas', the truth is the very reverse of this^ " Every gt)()d^ and every perfect gift , cometh from aoove^;" and of evif and misery , man is the author to himself ^ 11 When', from the condition of individuals', we look abroad to the public state of the world', Ave meet with more proofs of the iriUh of this asserlJon\ We see great societies of men', toi**! in pieces by intestine dissensions^ tumults', and civil commotions^ We see mighty armies going forth', in ibrmidahle array', against each otlier', to cover the earth with blood', and to fill the air with the cries of widows' and orphans\ Sad evils these are', to which this miserable workl is exposed\ 12 But are these evils', I beseech you', to be imputed to God'f Was it he Avho sent forth slaughtering armies into the field', or who filled the peaceful city with massacres and blood'? Are these miseries any other than the bitter li-uit of men's violent and disorderly passions'? Are they not clearly to be traced to the ambition' and vices of princes', to the quarrels of the great', and to the turbulence of the people'?— jjCt us lay them entirely out of the account', in thirking of Providence', and let us think only of the " foolishness of man\ 13 Did man control his passions\ and form his conduct according to the dictates of wisdom\humanity\and\'irtue', the earth would no longer be desolated by cruelty ; and human societies would live in order\ harmony', and peace\ In those scenes of mischief ^ and violence' which fill tlie world', let man behold^ with shame', the picture of his vices', his igno- rance', and iblly\ Let him be humbled by the mortiiying Part 1. I Chap. 4. Argumentative Pieces, 73 view of his own perverseness'; but let not his " heart fret aguinst the Lord^ " blaie. SECTION V. On disinterested friendship. 1 AM informed that certain Greek writers', (philosophers', it seems^ in the opinion of their countrymen',) have advanc- ed some very extraordinary positions relating to friendship^; as', indeed', wliat subject is there', which these subtle ge- niuses liave not tortured with their sor)hi8try\^ 2 The authors to whom I reter', dissuade their disciples from entering into any strong attachments', as unavoidably creating supernumerary disquietudes to those who engage in them^; and', as every man has more than sufficient to call forth his solicitude', ni the course of his own affairs', it is a weakness', they contend', anxiously to involve himself in the coucerns o£others\ 3 They recommend it also', in all connexions of this kind', to hold the bauds of union extremely loose', so as always to have it in one's power to straiten^ or relax them', as circum- stances^ and situations' shall render most expedient^ They add', as a capital article of their doctrine', that', " to hve ex- empt from cares.' is an essential ingredient to constitute human happiness ; but an ingredient', however', which he', who voluntarily distresses himself with cares', hi which iie has no necessary and personal interest', must never hope to possess^" 4 I have been told likewise', that there is another set of pretended philosophers', of the same country', whose tenets', concerning this subject', are of ;a still more illiber^ and un generous cast\ The proposition which they attempt to estab Ksh', is', that "friendship is an nffnir oi\^eif-interest entirely V; and that the proper motive for engaging in it is', not in order to gratify the kind and benevolent anections' out lor the benefit of that assistance^ and support', whiwi are to be de rived from the connexion^" 5 Accordingly they assert', fnat those persons are most .ilis(K)sed to nave recourse to auxiliary alliances of this kind', j who are least qualified by nature^ or fortune', to depend upon their own strength' and powers': the weaker sex\ Cov in stance', being generally more mclined to engage in friend- ships', than the male part of our species^; and those who are depressed by indigence\ or labouring under misfortunes', than the wealthy', and the prosperous^ 6 Exceflent and obliging sages', these', undoubtedly^! To I strike out the friendlv affections from the moral world', would 7 D r ./ »'' ' 1 ■•$■ \ ;■( ■ h .■ I 74 T%e Eno;lish Reader, Pari I be like extinguishing" the sun in the natural', each of them bein^the source of the best and most gratelul satisfactiong'. that neaven has conferred on the sons ol'nien^ But I should be glad to know', what tlie real value ol'thib boasted exemp- tion from care', which they promise their disciples', justly amounts to\'' an exemption flattering to sell-love . I coniess^; b'lt whicli', upon many occurrences Li human lile', should be rejected with the utmost disdain\ 7 For nothing', surely', can be more inconsistent with a i well-poised and manly spirit', than to decline engaging in any laudable action', or to he discouraged from persevering in it , by an apprehension of the trouble^ and solicitude', with which ' it may probably be attended^ 8 V irtue herself, indeed', ought to be totally renounced' , if it be right to avoid every possible means that may be produc- tive of uneasiness': lor who', that is actuated by her princi- ples', can observe the conduct of an opposite character, with- oiii being affected Avith some degree of secret dissatisfaction^^ Are not the just', the brave', and the good', necessarily exposed to the disagreeable emotions of dislike and aversion , when they respectivelv meet witfi instances of fraud', of cow- ardice', or ot' villany'? It is an essential property of every j well-cunsiituled mind', to be affected with pain^ or pleasure,' according u> the nature of those moral appearances thatpre- seiit tlieuiscives to observation^ 10 If sensibillly', therefore', be not incompatible with true wisdom', (and it surely is not', unless we suppose that philo- sophy deadens every finer feeling of our nature',) what just reason can be assigned', why the sympathetic sufiijrings which may resu»t from fHendsliip', should be a sufficient inducement for banisiiing that generous affection from the human breast'.' 11 Exllnguibh all emotions of the heart', and what differ- ence will remain', I do not say between man^ and brute', but between man' and a mere inanimate clod? Away then with those austere philosophers', who represent virtue as harden- ing the soul against all the softer impressions of humanity^ 12 The tact', certainly', is much otherwise^ A truly eood i man', is', upon many occasions', extremely susceptible of| tender sentiments^; and his heart expands with joy^ or shrinks j with sorrow', as good or ill fortime accompanies his friend\ | Upon the whole', then', it may fairly be concluded', that', asl in the ca .e of virtue'', fw in that of liriendship'. those painful ! sensations which may sometimes be produced By theone\ as well as bj^the other', are equally insufficient grounds for ex-f eluding either of them fronj taking pjossession of our bosoms^ 13 Tliey who insist that " utility is the first and prevailiitf I Chap, 4, ,>irgumentative Pieces. yi 75 motive', which induces mankind toenter into particular friend- ships'," appear to me to divest the associati^m ofits most amia- ble and engaging principled For to a mind rightly disposed' it is not so much the benefits received', as the aH'ectionatez^al from which they flow', that gives tiiem their best and most valuable recommendation^ 14 It is so far indeed from being verified hy fact', that a I sense of our wants', is the original causeof ibrniing these ami- cable alliances^ ; that', on the contrary', it is observable', that none have been more distinguished in their friendships', than those whose power^ and opulence', but', above all', whose supe- rior t>»ri?Me', (a much firmer support',) liave raised them aboviB [every necessity of havingrecourse to the assistance of others^ I 15 The true distinction then', in the question', is', that " aU Ithough friendship is certainly productive of utility', yet utility Kh not the primary motive ol iriendship\" Those selfish sen- jualists', therefore', who', lulled in the lap of luxury', pre- jurae to maintain the reverse', have surely no claim to atten- tion^ ; as they are neither qualified by reflection^ nor experi- ;uce', to be competent jua^es of the subject^ 16 Is there a man upon the face of the earth', who would !eliberately accept of all the wealth', which this world can jestow', if oflfered to him upon the severe terms of his being inconnected with a single mortal whom he could love', or by kvhom he should be beloved' ? This would be to lead the rretched life of a detested tynint', who,' amidst perpetual iuspicions\ and alarms', passes his miserable days', a stranger |o every tender sentiment' ; and utterly precluded from the heart-felt satislactions of friendship^ MelmotKs translation of Cicero's Lodius. SECTION VI. On the immortality of the soul. WAS yesterdav walking aione', in one of my friend's woods', and lost myself in it very agreeably', as I was run- |ing over , in my mind', the several arguments that establish lis great point' ; which is the basis of morality', and the lurce of all the pleasing hopes^ and secret joys', that can arise I the heart of a reasonable creature\ 2 I considered those several proofs drawn' — First', from the ^nre of the soul itself"^ and particularly its immateriality' ; ^hich', though not absolutely necessary to the eternity ofits du- |ition', has', I think', been evinced to almost a demonstration^. 3 Secondly', from its passions' and sentiments^ ; as', p«r- jularly', from its love of existence^ ; its horror of anninila )n' ; and its hopes of immortality' ; with that secret iatit- f ., n The English Reader. Part, 1. /action which it finds in the practice o£virtue';^ and that uneik nne$» which follows upon the commission oi' vice\ — Thirdly' fram the nature of the Supreme Being^ whose justice', good nessS wiBdoni\ and veracity'', are all concerned in this paint 4 But among theae^ and other excellent arguments for tlie immortality of the soul', there is one drawn from the perpetual progress of the soul to its perfljction', without a possibility of ever arriving at it'; which in a huit that I do not remember to have seen opened and improved by those wfio have writ- ten on this subject', though it seems to me to carry a very preat weight wiih it\ 5 How can it enter into the thoughts of man', that the soul', which is capable of immense perl'ections', and of receiving new improveinents to all eternity', shall fall away into no- tiling', almost as soon as it is created\'* Are such abilities made for no purpose': A brute arrives at a point of perfection', thai he can never pass^: in a few years he has all the endo\vmenij lie is capable of^; and were fie to live ten thousand more woiild be the same tiling he is at present^ 6 Were a human soul thus at a stand in her accomplisli{ ments'; were her liiculties tt> be full blown', and incapable c: flirt her enlarffeinents'; I could imagine she might fall away in-j sensibly', and drop at once into a state of annihilation^ Bu| can we believe a tliinking being that is in a perpetual progrea of improvement', and travelling on from perfection^ to perfto tion', after having just looketl abroad into the works of lie;| Creator', ami made a lew diiicoveries of his infinite goodnesc^l wisdom\ and power', must perish at herjirat setting out', and in the very be^innin^ of fier inciuires'? 7 Man , considered only in his preaent state', seems senl mto the world merely to propagate iiis kind\ He providej himself with a successor', and immediately quits his post tj make room for hiin\ He does not seem born to enjoy lif but to deliver it dovvft to others*. This is not surprismglj consider in animals', which are formed foi- our use', and whicT can finish their business in a short life\ i 8 The silkworm', after liaving spun her task', lays ha eggs' and dies\ But a man cannot take in his full measuif OI knowledge^ has not time to subdue his paLsions\ establisl his soul in virtue\ and come up to the perfection of his id tuBe'jLbefore he is hurried off the stage\ Would an infinitel wise jBeing', make such glorious creatures for so mean a puij pose'? Can he delight in the productions of such abortive ii telligences', such sliort-lived reasonable beings'? Would r give us talents that are not to be exerted' ? capacities th are never to be gratified'? Chap, 4. Argumentative Pieces, W 9 How can we find that wisdom which shines throuj^h all |hi3 works^ in the formation ol'man^ without l(H>kinff on thi§ world as only a nursery for the nexV; and witiiout Believing that the several generations of rational creatures', which rise dthatvnfO'^1 .—Thirdly' slice', good _ . ... • , - , nthispotnt^ flup and disappear ni such quick successions , are only to re- nents ibr tlie «ceiye their first rudiinents of existence here\ and aflerwards the perpetusi a possibilit}- lot remember la have writ- carry a very! to be transplanted into a more friendly climate', where they nay spread and Hourish to all eternity\' 10 There is not', in my opinion', a more pleasing and tri- imphant consideration in religion', than this of the f)erpetual rogress', which the soul makes towards the perleotion of its nature', without ever arriving at a period in it\ To look U l^ij »»V.Il HJt.V VI. W WV^.iX#V.. ...» V.'%'>»V^ tA>^WVl.,<.. ^..^J.IIVT , the human soul shall be as perfect as he himself now ay', when she shall look down upon that degree of per- ', as much as she now falls short of it\ It is true', the jpon the soul as g'wngon from strengtn' to strength^; tocon- lider that she is'io shine for ever with new accessions of plory', and brighten to ail eternity^; that she will be still add- ig virtue' to virlue\ an