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 ON VARIO U 5 
 
 SUBJECTS, 
 
 TOL.
 
 - 
 
 '* 
 
 -
 
 ESSAYS 
 
 ON VARIOUS 
 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 By the AUTHOR of 
 
 REFLECTIONS 
 
 O N T H E 
 
 SEVEN DAYS of the WEEK. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 Printed for JOHN and FRANCIS RIVINGTOH 
 (N 62) St. Paul's Church-Yard. 
 
 M DCC LXXI J
 
 r r 

 
 37.X1 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 ON E fcarce ever walked, with any 
 Sec of Company, by a neat Cot- 
 tage, but fomebody or other has 
 exprefTecl their Envy of the paftoral Inha- 
 bitant. It is quite common, among People 
 ofeafyand affluent Circumftances, to ima- 
 gine in a fplentic Moment, every laborious 
 Situation happier than their own : and to 
 wifh an exchange with the Plough-man, the 
 Shepherd, or the Mechanic. I have fome- 
 times thought this an Affectation : and a 
 very faife Sentiment it furely is. For if all 
 made the Improvement, they ought of their 
 own Way of Life, there can be little 
 Doubt, but the higher, and more leifura- 
 VOL. 1. B ble
 
 2 E S S A Y I. 
 
 ble Stations would be, upon the whole, 
 the happieft. That they rarely prove fo 
 in Facl, is the Fault of the PofiHTors : 
 Who unable to avoid their neceflary Cares, 
 and uninduftrious to feek out their true 
 Advantages, fink under a Weight, that 
 they might eafily balance, fo as not to 
 feel it. 
 
 What is generally called the Spleen, is 
 BO other than the uneafy Confciouihefs and 
 Difiatisfaclion of a Mind formed for nobler 
 Purfuits, and better Purpofes, than it is 
 ever put upon. Mere Pleafure is an End 
 too unworthy for a rational Being to make 
 its only Aim. Yet Perfons, unconitraincd 
 by Neceflity, arc fo apt to be allured by 
 indolence and Amufement, that their bet- 
 ter Faculties are feldom exercifed as they 
 ought to be : Though every Employment 
 that fervesno other Purpofe than merely to 
 "while away the prefent Moment, gives the 
 Mind a painful Senfation, that Wnether dif- 
 tindly attended to, or not, makes up, when 
 'frequently repeated, the Sum of that Satiety 
 
 and
 
 E S S A Y I. 3 
 
 and Tedioulnefs fo often lamented, in p;of- 
 perous Life. 
 
 There is, doubtlefs, to many Perfons a 
 real Difficulty in making the Choice of an 
 Employment, when they are left perfectly 
 at Liberty, to chufe what they will. Ne- 
 ceffity is perhaps the moft fatisfactory 
 Guide : and for that Reafon alone, the Ar- 
 tificer, the Shepherd and the Farmer, are 
 happier than their affluent Neighbours. 
 The poor Man muft either work or ftarve : 
 fo he makes the beft of his Lot ; works 
 cheerfully, and enjoys the Fruit of his ho- 
 neft Labour. The Rich, the Eafy, the 
 Indolent, have a Talk as neceffary, but 
 not fo obvious. There is Room for fome 
 Doubt, and Uncertainty as to the Way of 
 fitting about it. A Life of fublime Spe- 
 culation is too high for the prefent State : 
 A Life of foft Pleafure is too low. The 
 
 rieht Medium is a Life bufied in the Ex- 
 
 
 
 ercife of Duty : and Duties there are pe- 
 culiar to every Situation, and an Enquiry 
 into thefe is the leading one. 
 
 B 2 I was
 
 4 E S S A Y I. 
 
 I was drawn into -this Speculation by 
 having indulged, la(t Summer, a whole 
 Week of Idlenefs in a Vifit, I made to an 
 old Acquaintance in the Country. I, too, 
 took it into my Head one Afternoon, to 
 envy a poor Man, who was hard at Work 
 for "his Livelihood, mending the Roof of 
 a Church, where he had fome Danger, as 
 well as Toil. I, who had been feeking 
 out the cooled Shade, and reclining on 
 the greened Turf, amid the Fragrance of 
 a thoufand Flowers : I, who had Leifure 
 to attend to the Warbling of Birds around 
 me, or in Peace and Safety might amufe 
 myfelf with the liveliefl Wit and Elo- 
 quence of Greece and Rome would have 
 refigned all thefe Delights with Joy,' to fit 
 whittling at the Top of a high Ladder, 
 filtering both Heat and Hunger. 
 
 After ruminating much on fo odd a 
 Phenomenon, I could find no better Way 
 of accounting for it, than from the Pre- 
 ferablenefs of any allotted Employment, 
 to an inactive Indulgence of felfifh Plea- 
 
 fure.
 
 E S S A Y I. 5 
 
 fure. It would therefore be worth while 
 for all of us, to confider what is our al- 
 lotted Employment, and fitting down con- 
 tented with that, all might be more than 
 tolerably happy, and no fucli great Ine- 
 qualities in the World, as are ufually com- 
 plained of. 
 
 Not that all Amufementand Indulgence 
 jfhould be feverely baniflied. When pro- 
 perly and proportionably mixed with the 
 more ferious Purpofes of Life, they be- 
 come a Part of Duty. Reft and Relaxa- 
 tion are necefiary to Health : The elegant 
 Arts refine our Imaginations : and the moft 
 trifling Gaieties ferve to cherifh our good 
 Humour and innocent Alacrity of Heart. 
 The Enjoyment of proper Delights fills 
 us with Gratitude to their all-bountiful 
 Difpenfer, and adds to the Bands of So- 
 ciety a flowery Chain of no fmall Strength, 
 and does Juftice to a fair World, that is 
 full of them. The Number of them va- 
 ries according to numberlefs Circumftan- 
 ces : but, in no Circumftance, are mere 
 B 3 Amufe-
 
 ^ E S S A Y I. 
 
 Amufement and Relaxation to be confi- 
 dered as the Bu Griefs of Life, or to be 
 iubftituted for that real Tafk, which, in 
 fome Inflance or other, is allotted to every 
 State. 
 
 Let then the Shepherd enjoy his Peace, 
 his Meadows, and his Oaten Pipe. .Let 
 the honeft Artificer purfue his Trade with 
 cheerful Induftry, and rejoice that the 
 Weight of States and Kingdoms does not 
 lie upon his Shoulders. Let the Man of 
 a middle Station know his Happinefs, in 
 pofieffing with quiet Obfcurity, all the 
 Comforts of Society, and domeftic Life, 
 with Leifure, and Advantage for making 
 the nobleft Improvements of the Mind. 
 Let the Rich and Great ftill look higher, 
 and inftead of repining at 
 
 " Ceremony, the Idol Ceremony !" 
 
 which debars them of thofe free and hum- 
 ble Joys, delight themfelves with their 
 extenfive Power of doing Good, and dif- 
 fufing Happinefs around them. 
 
 What
 
 E S S A Y I. 7 
 
 What an Alternative is put into the 
 Choice of Man ! By Employment or Mif- 
 u fe of the Faculties affigned him, he may 
 rile to what Dignity, or fink to what Bafe- 
 nefs he will, in the Clafs of moral Beings. 
 Human Exiilence is an ineftimable Gem, 
 capable of receiving whatever Polim we 
 wilh pleafe to give it : and if heightened 
 with the Diligence it ought, will (hine in 
 due Time, with a Luftre more dazzling 
 than the Stars. 
 
 It would not be fantaftical (for its Foun- 
 dation is in Truth and Reality) to form a 
 Scale of Nobility very different from the 
 common Diftinftions of Birth, Titles, and 
 Fortune ; and wholly according to that 
 Figure, Perfons make in the moral World, 
 and according to their various Degrees of 
 Improvement and Ufefulnefs. The Change 
 would not be total. Many, who are now 
 high in Life, would continue fo : but not 
 a few would be ftrangely degraded. 
 
 B 4 Of
 
 S E S S A Y I. 
 
 Cf what Account indeed, in the true 
 Syftem of Life is He (be he what he will 
 in Greatnefs) who fleeps away his Being 
 in indolent Amufement ? Whofe Hours 
 hang heavy on his Hands, without the 
 Gaming-Table, the Bottle, the Buffoon or 
 the Taylor ? And whofe Mind amidft them 
 all, is perpetually clouded with a fplenetic 
 Difcontent, the inevitable Ruft of unufed 
 Faculties ? Uncomfortable to himfelf, and 
 unimportant to his Fellow-Creatures, what- 
 ever were his Advantages of Nature and 
 Fortune, he has degraded himfelf from 
 them all. A Day-Labourer, who does his 
 utmoft at the Plough and the Cart, is a 
 much more refpeclable Being. 
 
 In this Scale, the Mifer's Plea of Poverty 
 would be readily admitted, as witneffed by 
 his anxious Look and fordid Life : While 
 the frank Heart and open Countenance 
 fhould be fetdown for the Merit ef a Plum. 
 
 Even the Mifer himfelf has a Clafs of 
 Inferiors, and that, without fpeaking of 
 
 the
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 the downright Vicious, who come under 
 another Kind of Confideration. Thefe are 
 the Oyiter-Livers : Such as lofe the very 
 Ufe of their Limbs from mere Lazinefs, 
 and wafte Year after Year fixed to one un- 
 comfortable Spot ; where they eat and 
 drink, fleep and grumble on : while the 
 Duty of their Situation properly attended 
 to, would make them happy in themfelves, 
 and a Happinefs to others. Were the 
 Pearl taken out of that unfightly Shell, 
 what a Circulation of Riches and Orna- 
 ments might it make in Society ! But 
 while thefe poor Animals can fatten on 
 their barren Rock, it matters not to them. 
 
 If Cowardice finks Perfons lower than all 
 
 ether Vices, beneath even thefe will come 
 
 in the poor Slaves of falfe Shame, the mean 
 
 Deferters of their Duty. How many, that 
 
 now pafs for Men of Honour and Spirit* 
 
 ^would appear more weak and timorous 
 
 than Female Fear. Some not daring to 
 
 refufe a Challenge : others drinking againft 
 
 B 5 InclL-
 
 io E S S A Y I. 
 
 Inclination, or affronting Religion againft 
 their own Confciences : or prodigal of 
 Health and Fortune, from merely wanting 
 Strength to refift the vain Current of Fa- 
 (hion. No black Slave ibid in a Market 
 is ib far from Liberty, as every one of 
 thefe. 
 
 In numberlefs fuch Ways, does the be- 
 wildered Race of Man deviate from the 
 Paths of Felicity and Glory, and childishly 
 fquander away ineftimable Advantages. 
 For juft in Proportion to the Improvement 
 of thofe Faculties, with which Heaven has 
 intrufted us, our Beings are ennobled, and 
 our Happincfs heightened. The Enjoy- 
 ments of a mere animal Exiftenee are flat 
 and low. The Comforts of plain ordinary 
 Life, in thole who have fome Feelings of 
 the Connexions of Society, but no Idea 
 of any Thing higher, rile in the next De- 
 gree. The Pieafures of an improved Ima- 
 gination take in a Circle vatlly wider and 
 inore fair. The Joys of a benevolent 
 Heart animated by an a&ive diligent Spi- 
 rit, refined Sentiments, and Affections juftly 
 
 warm.
 
 E S S A Y I. ii 
 
 warm, exceed the mofl gay Imagination. 
 The ftrong Senfe, and genuine Love of 
 Truth and Goodnefs, with all thofe nobleft 
 Difpofitions, that fill a Mind affected and 
 penetrated, as it ought to be, with a Senfe 
 of Religion, and practifing every Part of 
 Chriftian Duty, afcends ftill higher, and 
 raifes Humanity to that Point, from which 
 it begins to claim a near Alliance with fur 
 perior Natures. 
 
 Bd ESSAYS
 
 ESSAY II. 
 
 POLITENESS is the mod agreea- 
 ble Band of Society, and I cannot 
 help attributing more ill Confequences to 
 the general Difregard of it, than People, 
 at prefent, are apt to. attend to. Perhaps 
 it may be fo intirely laid afide, by the Time 
 that this Manufcript comes into any Body's 
 Hand, that the Page, which prelerves 
 fome faint Outlines of its Refemblance, 
 may be thought no unufeful one : or at 
 leaft by the Lovers of Antiquity, may be 
 read with Pleafure, as containing fome 
 curious Remains of an elegant Art : an 
 Art, that humanized the World, for many 
 Years, till the fine Spirits of the prefent 
 Age, thought fit to throw it off, as a nar- 
 row Reftraint, and a mean Prejudice of 
 Education. 
 
 Politenefs
 
 E S S A Y II. 13 
 
 Politeneis is the juft Medium between 
 Form and Rudenefs. It is the Conkquence 
 of a benevolent Nature, which (hows it- 
 felf, to general Acquaintance, in an oblig- 
 ing, unconftrained Civility, as it does, to 
 more particular ones, in diftinguilhed 
 Acts of Kindnefs. This good Nature mult 
 be directed by a Jullnefs of Senfe, and a 
 Quicknefs of Difcernment, that knows 
 how to ufe every Opportunity of exercif- 
 ing it, and to proportion the Inftances of 
 it, to every Character and Situation. It is 
 a Reilraint laid by Reafon and Benevo- 
 lence, upon every Irregularity of the Tem- 
 per, which, in Obedience to them, is 
 forced to accommodate itfelf even to the 
 fantaftic Laws, which Cuflom and Fafhion 
 have eftablifhed, if, by that Means, it 
 can procure, in aay Degree, the Satisfac- 
 tion, or good Opinion of any Part of Man- 
 kind. Thus paying an obliging Deference 
 to their Judgment, fo far as it is not incon- 
 fiftent with the higher Obligations of Vir- 
 tue and Religion. 
 
 This
 
 14 ESSAY IT. 
 
 This muft be accompanied with an Ele- 
 gance of Tafte, and a Delicacy obfervant 
 of tht lead Trifles, which tend to pleafe, 
 or to oblige : and though its Foundation 
 
 c? o 
 
 mult be rooted in the Heart, it can fcarce 
 be perfected without a complete Knowledge 
 of the World. 
 
 In Society, it is the Medium, that blends 
 all different Tempers, into the moft pleaf- 
 ing Harmony, while it impofes Silence on 
 the Loquacious, and inclines the moftRe- 
 ferved to furnilh their Share of the Con- 
 verfation, it reprefles the Ambition of 
 ftiining alone, and increafes the Defire of 
 being mutually agreeable. It takes off the 
 Edge of Raillery, and gives Delicacy to 
 Wit. It preferves a proper Subordination 
 amongft all Ranks of People, and can 
 reconcile a perfect Eafe, with the moft 
 exact Propriety. 
 
 To Superiors it appears in a refpe&ful 
 Freedom: no Greatnefs can awe it into 
 
 Servility,
 
 ESSAY II. 15 
 
 Servility, and no Intimacy can fink it into 
 a regardlcfs Familiarity. 
 
 To Inferiors it {hows itfelf in an tin- 
 afluming good Nature. Its Aim is to raife 
 Them to Yon, not to let You down to 
 Them. It at once maintains the Dignity 
 of your Station, and expreffes the Good- 
 nefs of your Heart. 
 
 To Equals it is every Thing, that is 
 charming. It ftudies their Inclinations, 
 prevents their Defires, attends to every 
 little Exaclnefs of Behaviour, and all the 
 Time appears perfectly difengaged and 
 carelefs. 
 
 Such, and fo amiable is true Politenefs, 
 by People of wrong Heads and unworthy 
 Hearts difgraced in its two Extremes : 
 and, by the Generality of Mankind, con- 
 fined within the narrow Bounds of mere 
 good. Breeding, which, in Truth, is only 
 one Inftance of it.
 
 i6 E S S A Y II. 
 
 There is a Kind of Character, which 
 does not in the leaft deferve to be reckoned 
 polire,- though it is exact in every Punc- 
 tilio of Behaviour. Such as would not 
 for the World omit -paying you the Civi- 
 lity of a Bow, or fail in the leaft Circum- 
 ftance of Decorum : But then thefe People 
 do this fo merely for their own Sake, that 
 whether you are pleafed, or embarrafled 
 with it, is little of their Care. They have 
 performed their own Parrs, and are fatis- 
 fied. One there is, who fays more civil 
 Things than half Mankind befides, and 
 yet, is ic So obliging that he never obliged." 
 For while he is paying the higheft court to 
 fome one Perfon of the Company, he muft, 
 of Courfe, neglect the reft, which is ill 
 made up, by a forced Recollection at laft, 
 and fome lame Civility, which, however 
 it may be worded, does in Effect, exprefs 
 only this, "I proteft I had quite forgot 
 " you : but as infignificant as you are, I 
 ' muft not, for my own Sake, let you go 
 tc Home out of Humour." Thus every 
 one in their Turn, finding his Civility to 
 
 be:
 
 E S S A Y II. 17 
 
 be juft as variable as his Intereft, no one 
 thinks himfelf obliged to him for it. 
 
 This then is a Proof, that true Polite - 
 nefs, whofe great End is giving real Plea- 
 fure, can have its Source only in a virtuous 
 and benevolent Heart. Yet this is not all : 
 it muft obferve Propriety too. There is 
 a Character of perfect good Nature, that 
 loves to have every Thing about it happy 
 or merry. This is a Character greatly to 
 be loved, but has little Claim to the Title 
 of Folitenefs. Such Perfons have no No- 
 tion of Freedom without Noife and Tu- 
 mult: and by taking off every proper Re- 
 ftraint, and finking themfclves to the Le- 
 vel of their Companions, even leflen the 
 Pleafure thefe would have in the Company 
 of their Superiors. 
 
 Cleanthes too loved to have every Body 
 about him pleafed and eafy. But in his 
 Family, Freedom went Hand in Hand, 
 with Order ; while his Experience of the 
 World, in an Age of more real Accom- 
 
 plifhments,
 
 iS ESSAY II. 
 
 plilhments, preferred his whole Behaviour 
 agreeable to his Company, and becoming 
 his Station. 
 
 Certainly this Regard to the different 
 Stations of Life, is too much neglected by 
 all Ranks of People. A few Reflexions 
 will {how this but too plainly. That the 
 Government of States and Kingdoms fhould 
 be placed in a few Hands was, in the ear- 
 lieft Ages of the World found neceflary 
 to the ^vell- being of Society. Power gave 
 a Kind of Sanction to the Perfons, in 
 whofe Hands it was vefted , and when the 
 People's Minds were awed into Obedience, 
 there was the lefs Need of Punifliments to 
 reftrain their Actions. Each various Rank 
 of them viewed, with profound Refpect 
 that, which was moft regularly beautiful : 
 and the Pile of Government rofe, in due 
 Proportion, with Harmony in all its Parts. 
 
 Very different is the prefent Scene, where 
 all Sorts of People put themfelves upon a 
 Level, where -the meaneft and moft igno- 
 rant
 
 ESSAY II. 19 
 
 rant cenfure, without Referve, the greateft 
 and the wifeft : where the fublimeft Sub- 
 jects are fcanned without Reverence, the 
 fufteft treated without Delicacy. 
 
 There ; was a Time, when from this 
 Principle of Politenefs, our Sex received a 
 thoufand delicate Diftinctions, which made 
 us as it were Amends for our Exclufion 
 from the more fhining and tumultuous 
 Scenes of Life. Perhaps it is a good deal 
 our own Fault, that within fome Years, the 
 Manner of treating us has been entirely 
 altered. When the fine Lady becomes a 
 Hoyden, no Wonder if the fine Gentle- 
 man behaves to her, like a Clown. When 
 People go out of their own proper Cha- 
 racter, it is like what filly Folks imagine 
 about going out of the Conjurer's Circle : 
 beyond thofe Limits you muft expect no 
 Mercy. 
 
 It would be endlefs to reckon up the 
 various nirrors on each Side of true Polite- 
 nefs, which form Humourifls and Flatter- 
 ers,
 
 20 E S S A Y II. 
 
 ers, Characters of blunt, or ceremonious 
 Impertinence. But that I may give as 
 true a Standard of the Thing itfelf, as I 
 am capable of doing, I will conclude my 
 Paper with the Character of Cynthio, from 
 whofe Converfation and Behaviour I have 
 poffibly collected moft of the Hints which 
 form it. 
 
 " Cynthio has added to his natural 
 " Senfe a thorough Knowledge of the 
 " World : by which he has attained that 
 " maflerly Eafe in Behaviour, and that 
 " graceful CarelefTnefs of Manner, that 
 " no Body, I know, pofTefifes in fo high a 
 " Degree. You may fee, that his Polite- 
 " nefs flows from ibmething v fuperior to 
 " the little Forms of Cuftom, from a hu- 
 * mane and benevolent Heart directed by 
 " a Judgment, that always feizes what is 
 " juft and proper-, and formed into fuch an 
 " habitual good Breeding, that no forced 
 " Attention ever puts you in Mind, at the 
 " Time, that Cynthio is taking Pains to 
 " entertain you, though upon Recollec- 
 
 " tion
 
 E S S A Y II. 21 
 
 " tion you find him to be, for that very 
 " Reafon, a Man of the compleateft Po- 
 " litenefs. 
 
 " His Converfation is always fuited to 
 " jhe Company he is in, yet fo as never to 
 " depart from the Propriety of his own 
 " Character. As he is naturally indolent, 
 11 he is generally the leaft talkative of the 
 " Set , but he makes up for this, by ex~ 
 " prefling more in a few Words, than the 
 " Generality of People do in a great many 
 " Sentences. He is formed indeed for 
 " making Converfation agreeable : fince 
 " he has good Nature, which makes him 
 " place every Thing that can have a Share 
 " in it, in the mod favourable Light that 
 " it is capable of: and a Turn of Hu- 
 ** mour, that can put the moft trifling 
 " Subject in fome amufing Point of View. 
 
 " In a large Company, Cynthio was ne- 
 " ver known to engrofs the whole Atten- 
 " tion to fome one favourite Subject, which 
 " could fuit with only a Part of it ; or to 
 
 " dictate, 

 
 22 E S S A Y II. 
 
 " dictate, even in a fmall one. With a very 
 tc quick Difcernment, to avoid fpeaking or 
 < c thinking feverely of the many Faults 
 " and Follies, this World abounds with, 
 " is a Proof of an excellent Temper too, 
 < c which can be no Way conftantly fup- 
 " ported, and made in its Effects, confiir- 
 " ent with itfelf, but upon the Bafis of 
 " ferious Principles. 
 
 " This then is the Support of Cynthio's 
 " Character, and this it is, that regulates 
 " his Actions, even where his natural In- 
 " clination would direct: him differently. 
 " Thus, when the Welfare of the Public 
 " is concerned, he can affume a Strict- 
 " nefs, that carries great Awe with it, 
 " and a Severity, that a mere conftitutio- 
 " nal good Nature would be hurt by, 
 " though it anfwers the moft valuable 
 < Ends of true Humanity. Thus his na- 
 tural Indolence is allowed to fhow itfelf, 
 " only in Things of trifling Confequence, 
 c or fuch as he thinks fo, becaufe they 
 " regard only himfelf: but whenever he 
 A " has
 
 E S S A Y II. 23 
 
 " has any Opportunity of ferving a Friend, 
 " or doing a worthy Action, no Body is 
 " fo ready, fo vigilant, fo active, fo con- 
 " itant in the Purfuit , which is feldom 
 " unfucceisful, becaufe he has a ufeful 
 " good Senfe, that directs him to the pro- 
 " pereft Methods of proceeding. Upon 
 " fuch an Occafion, not the longeft Jour- 
 " ney, or molt tedious Solicitation, no 
 " Appearance of Trouble or of Danger 
 " can difcourage him. 
 
 " Sincerity is fo eflential a Part of 
 " Friendfhip, that no one fo perfect, in 
 14 its other Branches, can be wanting in 
 " that. But how, you will fay, can this 
 " be reconciled with Politenefs ? How can 
 " that, ^whofe utmoft Care is never to of- 
 " fend, ever venture upon telling a dif- 
 tc agreeable Truth ? Why this is one of 
 " the Wonders, which a good and a right 
 " Intention, well directed can perform : 
 ; and Cynthio can even oblige People, by 
 " telling them very plainly of their Faults.'* 
 
 I per-
 
 24 ESSAY II. 
 
 I perceive, I have wandered from my 
 firft Intention, which was only to give a 
 general Sketch of this Character, as in- 
 fluenced by that Humanity, whole Confe- 
 quence is fuch a Defire of pleafing, as is 
 the Source of Politenefs. But before I 
 have done with it, I muft add this one 
 diftinguilhing Stroke, that though many 
 People -may excel in feparate good Qua- 
 lities and Accomplifhments, more than 
 Cynthio, yet I never faw them fo equally 
 proportioned, or fo agreeably blended as 
 in him, to form that whole Behaviour that 
 makes him the fitted Example for an Eflay 
 on this Subject. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 ESSAY III. 
 
 LET me be allowed to make a new 
 Word, and let that Word be Accvm- 
 
 modablenefs. 
 
 The Difpofition of Mind, I mean by 
 that Word to exprefs, is of fuch conftant 
 and univerfal Ufe, that it is certainly worth 
 while to diftinguim it by a Name of its 
 own. We Englifh have not much of it in 
 our Nature, and therefore it is no Wonder 
 we have not an Expreffion to fuit it. It is 
 fuch a Flexibility of Mind, as hinders the 
 leafl Struggle between Reafon and Tem- 
 per. It is the very Height and Perfection 
 of good Humour, mown as well in an in- 
 ilantaneous Tranlition from Mirth to Se- 
 rioufnefs, when that is beft fuited to the 
 Place and People, as it is in the livelieft 
 
 VOL. I C Flames
 
 26 ESSAY III. 
 
 Flalhes of Gaiety. It is an Art of fitting 
 fo loofe from our own Humours and Dc- 
 figns, that the mere having expedited, or 
 intended, or wifhed a Thing to be other- 
 wife than it is, (hall not, for a Moment 
 -ruffle our Brows, or dilcompofe our 
 Thoughts. It is an Art, for it requires 
 Time and Pains to perfect it. 
 
 All this is indeed included in what has 
 been faidof Politenefs, but it is worth dwell- 
 ing upon in a new Light. It is the Means 
 of making every trifling Occurrence in 
 Life, of fome Ufe to us. For want of it, 
 Liking and Luck are ever at crofs Purpofes. 
 To Day we are lad : and then if we fall 
 into a jovial Company, all their Mirth 
 kerns <iifplaced, and but grates upon our 
 Fancy. To-morrow, we are as whimfically 
 determined to be merry : and then, how 
 unfuited is our Temper, to the Scenes 
 of fad Improvement, we fo often meet 
 with ! How unfit are we then to commife- 
 race the Wretched, or to 8raw juft Confide- 
 rations from the melancholy Side of Life ! 
 
 This
 
 ESSAY III. 27 
 
 This Body, by fome Accident cr other, 
 we look upon in a Light of Prejudice : A 
 foolifh Story told of them, or perhaps a 
 difagreeable Look, or a peculiar Trick, 
 makes us lofe all the Advantage, that 
 might be had, by attending to their more 
 valuable Qualifications : for every Body 
 has fome. Another wedefpife, merely for 
 our own Ignorance of their Worth. We 
 look upon Perfons in a Light of Burlefque9 
 from fome ridiculous Circumftance; when, 
 perhaps, their ferious Character, has fome- 
 thing really good in it, that is quite paft 
 over. I have felt it my felf often : and that 
 makes me dwell upon the Subject, for I 
 think, one always talks belt from Ex- 
 perience. 
 
 I have read fome where, a Fairy Story, 
 in which a Princefs is defcribed, born un- 
 der fuch a Charm, that till me came to a 
 certain Age, it was impofiible fhe mould 
 ever enjoy any lading Satisfaction. The 
 Happinefs of her enfuing Life depended 
 upon the obferving this Condition : And 
 C 2 for
 
 28 ESSAY III. 
 
 for thatReafon, thofe Fairies, who had the 
 Care of her Education, were mod exact in 
 their Attention to it. Did fhe begin to 
 take Pleafure in any Employment ? It was 
 Immediately changed, and her Application 
 was called off to fome new one. As foon 
 as (lie had got over the Difficulties of that, 
 fhe was engaged in a third : and fo on, 
 Year after Year, till (he was quite grown 
 up. If any Amufement was propofed, if 
 fhe began to tafte the lead Delight, in the 
 Splendour of a public Show, or the Gaiety 
 of a rural Landfcape, the Scene was im- 
 mediately fhifted, and a dull Solitude took 
 the Place of what had charmed her. 
 
 Such is our Situation in this World. Irf 
 fuch a Cafe, all the poor Princefs had for 
 it, was to fhift her Inclinations, as fad 
 as the Fairies could her Amufements : 
 and when (lie had learned to do this, I 
 think indeed, one might anfwer for it, that 
 the reft of her Life could ijot fail to be 
 happy. 
 
 Our
 
 ESSAY III. 29 
 
 Our Humours and Difpofitions are cer- 
 tainly as various, as the Accidents that hap- 
 pen to exercife them : but then, the Mil- 
 fortune is, that they are frequently mil- 
 placed. I have often been in a Humour 
 for moralizing and improving, when my 
 Fancy had much more properly been 
 filled with gay Images of an Aflembly : 
 Then, that Idlenefs might not lofe its 
 Due, how frequently have my Thoughts 
 wandered from a philofophical Lecture, to 
 a crowded Park, nay fometimes from a 
 Sermon, to a Bail-Room ? 
 
 To continue always in the fame Turn 
 of Humour, be it ever fo graceful on forne 
 Occafions, is nothing better than dancing 
 fmoothly out of Time. Some People 
 have fuch an eternal Simper upon their 
 Face, that they will tell you the molt me- 
 lancholy Story, or exprefs the moft pathe- 
 tic Concern, with a Smile. Others have 
 fuch an Air of earned Attention, that they 
 will liften to a Goffip's Tale with the Gra- 
 vity of a Philofopher. 
 
 C 3 All
 
 30 ESSAY III. 
 
 All have fome good Qualities, fomething 
 or other, in their Character or Converfation, 
 that rightly attended to, we may be the 
 better for. When in Company with Peo- 
 ple of mere good Humour, we mould 
 waken all the mirthful Faculties of our 
 Mind, and take this Time for unbending 
 our more ferio'Js Thoughts. We are not 
 to confider whether one is of a proper 
 Rank, or another of an agreeable Afpedr, 
 or whether we might not be better employ- 
 ed in our Clofets; or better engaged in 
 Company elfewhere : but accommodate 
 ourfelves to the prefent Situation, and make 
 the bed of it. Be the Company ever fo 
 dull, they are human Creatures at leaftj 
 capable of feeling Pleafure, or Uneafmefs, 
 in fome Degree, of jpeing obliged or dif- 
 obliged : and therefore, if we are ever fo 
 diffatisfied ourfelves, if we may contribute 
 any Way to the Satisfaction of our ftupid 
 Companions, good Nature will find it no 
 difagreeable Employment, and it may well 
 enough be put in the Balance, againtl moft 
 of thofe, we are fo angry to be interrupted in. 
 
 Had
 
 ESSAY III. 31 
 
 Had I fet my Heart on fuc.h a favourite 
 Scheme ? and am I difappoyited ? This 
 is what Children well educated can bear 
 with great good Humour, and arejeward- 
 ed with Sugar Plums. Shall People then, 
 who have the Ule of Reafon, and the Plea- 
 fure of Reflection upon reafonable Actions^ 
 be more childifli than they, and add one 
 difagreeable Thing to another, by tying 
 ill Humour to the Heels of Difappoint- 
 ment ? 
 
 The Mind, that is abfolutely wedded 
 to its own Opinions, will cherifh them to a 
 Degree of Folly and Obflinacy, that wou.lfj 
 be inconceivable but for frequent Inftances : 
 very frequent indeed in this Country, 
 which is reckoned, I believe juftly, to a- 
 bound in Humourifts, more than almoil any 
 Nation of the habitable Globe. Whether 
 this be one Effect attending on the glorious 
 Stubbornefs of the Spirit of Liberty, or 
 whether we take fome Tincture from the 
 November Sullennefs of the Climate, I 
 know not: But our Want of Accommo- 
 C 4 dablenefs
 
 32 ESSAY III. 
 
 dablenefs is very perceivable in the Re- 
 ception, which our common People ufually 
 give to Foreigners. Their Language is 
 ridiculed, their Manners obferved with a 
 haughty Kind of Contempt : all Minds 
 feem to fit aloof to them, as if they were 
 Enemies, Encroachers, that have nothing 
 to do amongft ns, no Right to give us 
 Trouble, or put us out of our Way. 
 
 If we would but learn to put ourfelves 
 a little in the Place of others, we fhould 
 foon learn, with Pleafure, to fuit ourfelves 
 to their Difpofition. But we are apt to 
 imagine, that every Body muft fee every 
 Thing, juft in the fame Light that it ap- 
 pears to us : if they do not, it is very 
 itrange, and they are no Companions 
 for us. Thus, it feems monftrous, in 
 a Foreigner to fpeak our Language 
 cddly, when we are fo perfectly acquainted 
 with it ourfelves. We are prodigioufly 
 inclined to think People impertinent, for 
 afking Qireftions about what we know very 
 well ourfelves : unlefs indeed we happen 
 
 to
 
 ESSAY III. 33 
 
 to be in a Humour of dictating and in- 
 ftructing, and then it is a Crime of the 
 fame Nature, for People to know any 
 Thing before Hand, that we have a Mind 
 to tell them. 
 
 Thus we forget our firft Opinions of 
 Places, Things, and People, and wonder 
 that others do not, at firft Sight perceive 
 them, in the fame Light that we do, jufl 
 at that Time : though perhaps it is by- 
 Dint of Reflection, that we have placed 
 them in it. It may however be fpeaking 
 too generally to fay ive. I am fure I have 
 often experienced this in myfelf. 
 
 It was the diftinguiming Character of a 
 poor Idiot, whom I had once Occafion to 
 fee a good deal of, that he had fo little of 
 this Accommodablenefs, as to be quite 
 outrageous, upon the leaft Alteration, in 
 any trifling Circumftances, he had been 
 ufed to obferve. He expreft his Anger, 
 in one Way indeed, and We exprefs our3 
 in another, or perhaps are wife enough to 
 C 5 keep
 
 34 ESSAY III. 
 keep moft of it to ourfelves : but there dill 
 remains enough to take off all the Grace 
 of what we do, or fubmit to, thus unwill- 
 ingly, and the Principle of Folly, that 
 makes us feel fo ftrong a Diflike, is the 
 fame in both : only this poor Creature de- 
 ferved Pity, while in us, it is a Matter of 
 Choice. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 [ 35 3 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 THERE is no one Difpofition of the 
 human Heart, that affords fuch ex- 
 quifite Pleafure, or Pain, as that, which 
 we call Delicacy. It is the Polifh of the 
 Mind, foiled by the leaft Breath, and af- 
 fected by the flighteft Touch. A delicate 
 Turn of Thought is, in fome, Cafes ex- 
 tremely agreeable, is the Sign of a valuable 
 Mind, (for bale Metals are not capable of 
 receiving any great Degree of -Polifh) but 
 will not go half fo well, through the World, 
 as that which is more plain, and rough. 
 
 Yet, as there is fomething, in this Dif- 
 pofition peculiarly elegant and amiable, 
 People are apt to encourage themfelves -\\\ 
 it, till from a Grace, it becomes a -Weak> 
 nefs, and diflftvfes Unhappinefs to all around 
 C 6 them,
 
 3 6 E S S A Y IV. 
 
 them, who muft weigh with the exacted 
 Care all their Words and Actions : and it 
 is extremely pofiible, that all their Care 
 may nbj be enough to prevent giving fome 
 grievous Offence, which they never meant, 
 and which will exprefs itfelf in perpetual 
 Smartnefies, or an eternal Flow of Tears> 
 according as the Conftitution of the delicate 
 Perfon inclines to Anger, or to Melancholy. 
 In the latter Cafe, it is more unhappy 
 than in the former : for hafty Anger is 
 cafily paft off; but no Body of good Na- 
 ture can bear to fee a Perfon affected, in 
 the moft painful Manner, by Things fo 
 trifling, as they may be guilty of, every 
 Moment, without knowing any Thing of 
 the Matter. 
 
 This Confideration mould make us ex- 
 tremely careful in our Behaviour, to thofe, 
 amonglt whom we live. Perhaps fome 
 Jittle HeedlefTnefs of ours, may feem a 
 mod cruel Slight to one, we never intend 
 t.o grieve, and opprefs a worthy Mind with 
 the moft melancholy Dejection. A care- 
 
 kfs
 
 E S S A Y IV. 37 
 lefs Word, fpoken quite at Random, or 
 merely by Rote, may give a delicate Heart 
 the mod anxious Diftrefs : and thofe of us, 
 who have the moft Prudence and good 
 Nature, fay and do an hundred Things, 
 in our Way of talking, about Characters 
 we know little of, or behaving towards 
 thofe, to whom we little attend, that have 
 much more grievous Confequences, than 
 we are aware of, 
 
 But then, on the other Hand, we mould, 
 in ourfelves, moft ftriclly guard againft all 
 Excefs of this Delicacy j and though we 
 cannot help feeling Things, in the quickeft 
 Manner, for the Moment, we mould arm 
 our Reafon againft our Feeling, and not 
 permit Imagination to indulge it, and nurfe 
 it up into a Miiery : for Mifery, if indulg- 
 ed, it will certainly occafion : Since an Ex- 
 cefs of Delicacy is the Source of conftant 
 Difiatisfaftion, through too eager a Purfujt 
 of fomething every Way higher, than is to 
 be had, 
 
 The
 
 3 8 E S S A Y IV. 
 
 The Perfon of delicate Judgment fees 
 every Thing, as it were, with a microfcopic 
 Eye: fo that what would be a pleafing 
 Object, to a common Spectator, is, to him? 
 unfupportably coarfe, and dilagreeable. 
 The Perfon of lively and delicate Imagi- 
 nation difdains the common Routine of 
 Comfort and Satisfaction ; and feeks for 
 Happinefs in an airy Sphere not formed to 
 give it : or purfues Mifery, through a wild 
 and endlefs Maze, which at every Turn- 
 ing grows more inextricable. By this re- 
 fined Delicacy of Sentiment, to put our- 
 felves on fo different a Footing, from the 
 reft of the World, that it is fcarce pofilble, 
 we fhould ever underftand one another, is 
 only vain Vexation. 
 
 In Friendships efpecially, this Excefs of 
 Delicacy is often of fatal ill Confequence. 
 From hence fpring Sufpicions and Jea- 
 loufies ; from hence arife Doubts and Dif- 
 quiets that know no End, unlefs it be, that 
 they often quite weary out the Patience of 
 the Perfons, whom they are thus perpetu- 
 ally
 
 ESSAY IV. 39 
 
 ally teazing for their Affection. I have 
 known Inftances of this Kind, that are 
 fufficient Warnings againft it. 
 
 As for the Affairs of common Life, they 
 can fcarcely go on where every little Nicety 
 is to be turned into a Matter of Importance. 
 I knew a Family, good, agreeable, fenfi- 
 blc, and fond of each other, to the higheft 
 Degree : but where each was fo delicate, 
 and fo tender of the Delicacy of the reft, 
 that they could never talk to one another, 
 of any ferious Bufinefs, but were forced to 
 tranfaft it all, by Means of a third Perfon, 
 a Man of plain Senfe, and a common 
 Friend to all. 
 
 Poor Lucius ! How much Conftraint and 
 real Uneafmefs does he fuffer from the 
 Delicacy, that proceeds from having a 
 Genius infinitely fuperior to moft he meets 
 with. By having a Mind above the low 
 Enjoyments of this State of Being, he is 
 deprived of many Hours of moft innocent 
 Cheerfulnefs, which other People are hap- 
 
 3 PX
 
 40 E S S A Y IV. 
 
 py in. He has an Underftanding, fo fitted 
 for the deepeft Refearches, and the fubli- 
 meft Speculations, that the common Af- 
 fairs and Engagements of Life, feem vaftly 
 beneath him. He has a Delicacy, in his 
 Turn of Mind, that is (hocked every Day, 
 by the lefs refined Behaviour and Conver- 
 fation of the Generality of Mankind: and it 
 muft be a very chofen Society indeed, that 
 he prefers to his beloved Solitude. This 
 Difpofition gives him a Refervednefs, that 
 in another Character, might pafs for Pride, 
 as it makes him mix lefs freely in thofe 
 Companies, that he is unavoidably engaged 
 in. However it has certainly this ill Con. 
 fequence, that it makes his Virtues of lefs 
 extenfivc Influence, than they would be, if 
 they were more generally known. He is na- 
 turally, extremely grave, and perhaps with 
 the Afiillance of Reafon and Experience, 
 which prove the Insufficiency of any Plea- 
 fures or Attainments, in this Life, to make 
 us happy ; this Serioufnefs is heightened 
 fo as to give himfelf many a gloomy Mo- 
 ment, though other People never feel the 
 
 Efftd
 
 E S S A Y IV. 41 
 
 EffecT: of it, by any ill Humour, or Seve- 
 ricy towards them. A Turn of Mind fo 
 fuperior to any of the common Occurren- 
 ces, or Amufements of Life, can feldom be 
 much affefled or enlivened by them : but 
 as fo excellent an Understanding muft have 
 the trueft Tafte for real Wit, fo no one has 
 a more lively Senfe of all, that is peculiarly 
 juft and delicate. Thefe Pleafures, how- 
 ever, are little Compenfations, for the 
 much more frequent Difgufts, to which the 
 fame Turn of Mind renders him liable- 
 Happy, thrice happy are thofe humble 
 People, whofe Senfations are fitted to the 
 World they live in. 
 
 Thofe Pleafures, which the Imagination 
 greatly heightens, it will certainly make us 
 pay dear enough for : fince the Pain of part- 
 ing with them, will be greatly increafed, in 
 full Proportion, not to their Value, but to 
 our Enjoyment. The World was intended 
 to be juft what it is ; and there is no Like- 
 lihood of our fucceeding in the romantic 
 Scheme of raifing it above what it is. To 
 
 diftraft
 
 4 2 ESSAY IV. 
 
 diftract ourfelves with a continual Suc- 
 ccffion of eager Hopes, and anxious Fears, 
 is a Folly deftructive to our Nature, and to 
 the very End of our Being. We are form- 
 ed for moderate Senfations either of Pain 
 or Pleafure to feel fuch Degrees of Un- 
 eafinefs only as we are very able to fupport : 
 and to enjoy fuch a Meafure of HappinefS, 
 as we may eafily refign, nay thankfully too, 
 wiien Religion has opened the Profpect to 
 a brighter Scene : to meet with many Rubs 
 and Difficulties, which we muft get over, 
 or ftumble over, as well as we can : to con- 
 verfe with Creatures imperfect, like our- 
 felves, and to bear with all their Imperfec- 
 tions. It feems then, that the only Way 
 of parting through Life, as we ought, is to 
 place our Minds in a State of as great 
 Tranquillity, as is confident with our not 
 becoming ftupid. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 [ 43 1 
 
 ESSAY V. 
 
 Advantages of Frugality do not 
 JL dcftrve to be lefs confidered than 
 thofe of Generofity : for where alas ! mall 
 Bounty find its necefiary Fund, if thought- 
 lefs Prodigality has fquandered it away* 
 When I hear of thoufands, and ten 
 thoufands fpent by People, who in the 
 midft of immenfe Riches reduce themfelves 
 to all the Shifts and Pinches of a narrow 
 Fortune, I know not how to recover my 
 Aftonilhment at the Infatuation, that leads 
 them to annihilate fuch Treafures : for it 
 may really be called annihilating them? 
 when they are fpent to no one good Pur- 
 pofe, and leave no one honourable Memo- 
 rial behind them. A Fortune thus lavilh- 
 ed away becomes the Prey of the Worth- 
 lefs : and is like a Quantity of Gold Duft, 
 
 difperfed
 
 44 ESSAY IV. 
 
 difperfed ufelefsly in the Air, that might 
 have been melted down, and formed into 
 regal Crowns, and Monuments of Glory. 
 
 I think one now fcarcely ever hears an 
 immenfe Fortune named, but fomebody 
 adds with a Shake of the Plead It is irfily 
 run out He is in very narrow Ctrcumftancts 
 They are in great Straits. Aik the 
 Occafion, and you will find few Inftances 
 of real Generofity, or public Spirit, or 
 even of a well judged Magnificence: but 
 all has gone amongft Voters, Fidlers, Ta- 
 ble Companions, profufe Servants, dif- 
 honeft Stewards, and a ftrange Rabble of 
 People, that are every one of them the 
 \vorfe for it. This is pitiable : and for 
 this, and nothing elie, a Man of Quality 
 is reduced to all the MeannefTes imagin- 
 able. He muft be dependent: he mufl 
 court the Smiles of Power : he muft often 
 be rapacious and difhoneft. 
 
 I remember a Friend of mine had once 
 an excellent Conceit of a Cave, at the up- 
 per
 
 E S S A Y V. 45 
 
 per End of which were two enchanted 
 Glafles, with Curtains drawn before them, 
 that were to be confulted every Evening, 
 in order for the forming a Judgment of 
 the Actions of the Day. The firft Glafs 
 fhowed what they might have been, and 
 what Effects fuch and fuch Opportunities 
 ought to have produced. When the Cur- 
 tain was undrawn before the other, it fhow- 
 ed, tout au nature!, what they had been. 
 Were one to contemplate, in thefe Glafles, 
 on the fpending one of thofe great Eftates, 
 which reduce our fine People to fuch Diffi- 
 culties, what a coup d'ceil the firit would 
 prefent ! A wide Track of Country adorn- 
 ed and improved : a thoufand hor.eft Fa- 
 milies flourifhing on their well cultivated 
 Farms : I cannot tell whether one fiiould 
 not fee a Church or two, rifing in a plain 
 fort of Majefty amidft the Landfcape. In 
 another Part of it, would appear Manufac- 
 tures encouragfd, Poverty relieved, and 
 Multitudes of People praying for the W T el- 
 fare of the happy Mafter. His Tradef- 
 men, his Domeftics, every Body that had 
 
 any
 
 4 (5 E S S A Y V. 
 
 any Connection with him, would appe; 
 with a cheerful and a grateful Air. The] 
 in their Turns, would difpenfe Good 
 Happinefs to all, with whom they had 
 Concern. At the Family Seat, would be 
 feen an unaffuming Grandeur, and an 
 honeft Hofpitality, free from Profufenefs 
 and Intemperance, one may fay as of 
 Hamlet's two Pictures, 
 
 Such mould be Greatnefs : Now behold 
 
 what follows 
 
 For here is Fortune, like a mildew'd Ear 
 Blafting each wholefome Grain 
 
 In the true hiftorical Glafs,'what may we 
 fee ? Perhaps a Pack of Hounds, a Cellar, 
 an Election. Perhaps a Gaming-Table, 
 with all thofe hellim Faces that furround 
 it. An artful Director perhaps, and an in- 
 dolent Pupil. Oppreffion gripes every 
 poor Wretch within its Grafp, and thefe 
 again opprefs their own Inferiors and De- 
 pendents : All looks hopelefs and joylefs : 
 
 and
 
 E S S A Y V. 47 
 
 and every Look feems to conceal a fccret 
 Murmur. On the Fore-Ground perhaps 
 there (lands a magnificent Palace, in the 
 Italian Tafte : innumerable Temples, Obe- 
 lifks, and Statues rife among the Woods : 
 and never were Flora and Pomona, Venus 
 and Diana, with all the Train of fabulous 
 Divinities more expenfively honoured in 
 Greece and Rome, than in thefe Fairy 
 Scenes. The Church in the mean Time* 
 ftands with a Wooden Tower : the Fields 
 are poorly cultivated, the Neighbourhood 
 difcontented, and ever upon the Catch to 
 find all poflible Faults in thofe proud Great 
 Ones, with whom they have no cheerful 
 friendly Intercourfe. Fine Clothes, and 
 coftly Jewels glitter, perhaps, in fome Part 
 of the Glafs : but how can they adorn Faces 
 grown wan with inward Care : or give 
 Gracefulhefs to thofe, who muft always 
 have the humbled Air of Inferiority, when 
 they happen to meet the Eye of their un- 
 paid Tradefrnen, whole Families are flarv- 
 ing upon their Account ? 
 
 The
 
 4-8 E S S A Y V. 
 
 The Man of thoughdefs good NaturtS 
 who lavifhes his Money to a hundred poor 
 Devils, (as is the genteel' Phrafe to call 
 thofe, that have run themfelves into Mifery 
 from mere Worth leflhefs) .1 fay, when 
 Wretches, that deferved only Punimment 
 and Ignominy, have drained this generous 
 Sieve of all he had to beftow, to what Grief 
 is he expofed, when he meets with an Ob- 
 ject of real Diftrefs, one that has, perhaps, 
 been ruined through his Means, and is 
 forced to fay with the fine Gentleman, in 
 Beaumont and Fletcher, 
 
 " I wanted whence to give it, yet his 
 
 " 'Eyes 
 *, Spoke for him : Thefe I could have 
 
 " fatisfied 
 " With fome unfruitful Sorrow" 
 
 Would it not be quite worth while for 
 any Body to avoid fuch UneafmefTes as 
 thefe, when it can be done merely by a 
 little Thought, and a little Order ? Me- 
 thinks an Exactnefs of Method, and a fre- 
 quent Review of Affairs would make every 
 
 Thing
 
 E S S A Y V. 49 
 
 Thing perfectly eafy. Might it not be 
 poffible for a Man of Fortune to divide 
 his Efcate into ieveral imaginary Parcels? 
 And, appropriating each to its particular 
 Purpofe, ipend it, within thofe Bounds, as 
 freely, and with an Air as open, as the 
 thoughtlefs Prodigal -, and yet be lure, by 
 this Means, never to run out, and never to 
 bcftow upon any one Article more than it 
 deferved. 
 
 I will fuppofe myfelf at this prefent pof- 
 fcfied of ten thoufand a Year ; nor will 
 the Suppofuion make me at all vain, gen- 
 tle Reader, fmce it implies but the being 
 a Steward to other People, and a Slave to 
 Propriety. Oh it is ten Times the more 
 indolent Thing to have but a little, and 
 yet the fame Kind of Management is re- 
 quired in all. Well : but what fihall I do 
 with this Eft ate of mine ? Firft of all I 
 buy me a large and pompous Account 
 Book. Then I confider how much muft 
 necefiarily be employed in mere Living: 
 and I write down the Sum Total, on the 
 
 VOL. I. D firft
 
 50 E S S A Y V. 
 
 firfl Page. This is afterwards fubdivided 
 into its proper diftinct Articles : and each 
 of them has a Page allotted to itfelf. And 
 here it muft be obferved, that there are 
 innumerable Proprieties of Appearance, 
 as indifpenfibly neceflary to the rich Man, 
 as bare Food and Clothing to the Poor. 
 The other Pages of the Book muft each 
 have their Title at Top, as thus : Chari- 
 ties loool. For the Service of my Friends-* 
 and of the Public iooo/. For proper Im- 
 provements of my Houfes, Gardens^ Eftates, 
 iooo/. and fo on. I doubt whether Knick- 
 knacks, Cabinets, or any immoderate Ex. 
 pences, in Jewels, Plate, or Pictures, would 
 find a Place in fuch a Lift as this. 
 
 It would furely be eafy, by frequently 
 comparing the daily Articles of Expence 
 under each Head, with the Determination 
 marked at Top, to keep every one within 
 Bounds, and to enjoy what is in our own 
 Power, without, in the leaft, pining after 
 what is not : For that we may read the 
 
 Pre-
 
 E S S A Y V. 51 
 
 Precepts of the Stoics : and for the other, 
 let us- confider, a little, thofe Inftances, we 
 may fee, all around us, of good Characters 
 difgraced by an ill-judged Savingnefs in 
 fome infignificant Particulars, and by a 
 Want of Eafe and Propriety, in trilling 
 Expences. 
 
 If People have any Efteem for Frugality, 
 they Ihould try to do it honour by fhowing, 
 that it is not inconfiftent with a becoming 
 and a generous Spirit. I have heard very 
 many People accufed of Covetoufnefs, and 
 generally hated, under that odious Character, 
 who perhaps had no Principle of that Kind, 
 and who threw away, often, as much upon 
 foolifh Expences, that had not ftruck them 
 in the faving View, as they pinched out of 
 others, which made them look paltry arrd 
 mean, in the Eyes of the World. Few People 
 I believe are heartily covetous throughout : 
 and this makes it fo eafy for them to flatter 
 t,hemfelves, that they are not tainted at all 
 with a Vice, the very Notion of which 
 D 2 would 
 
 f
 
 52 E S S A Y V. 
 
 would affront them : and for thofe in the 
 other Extreme, they too deceive them- 
 felves, in the fame fort. Whence comes 
 the old Proverb, 
 
 Penny wife and Pound fooli/b. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 [53] 
 
 ESSAY VI. 
 
 THERE are a great many Things, 
 that found mighty well in the de- 
 clamatory Way, and yet have no Sort of 
 Truth or Juftnefs, in them. The Equa- 
 lity between Poverty and Riches, or ra- 
 ther, the fuperior Advantages of the for- 
 mer, is a pretty philolophical Paradox, 
 that I could never comprehend. I will 
 grant very readily, that the (hort Sleeps of 
 a labouring Man, are full as fweet and 
 wholefome, as the Slumbers indulged upon 
 Down Beds, and under gilded Roofs. I 
 will readily confefs, that let People have 
 never fo many Apartments, they can be 
 but in one at a Time : and in a Word, 
 that the Luxury and Pageantry, that 
 Riches bring with them, is defpicable, and 
 infinitely lefs eligible, than the Simplicity 
 D 3 of
 
 54 E S S A Y VI. 
 
 of plainer Life. It muft be owned too, 
 that Greatnefs, and Fortune place People 
 in the Midft of innumerable Difficulties : 
 and that they are feverely accountable for 
 all thofe Advantages, they neglect to im- 
 prove. But fo, indeed, a Man is a more 
 accountable Creature than a Hog: and yet 
 none, but a Gryllus, I believe, would pre- 
 ier the Situation of the latter. 
 
 I do not fay, that People (hould upon 
 all Occafions, put themfelves forward, and 
 afpire to thofe dangerous Heights, which 
 perhaps, they were never formed to afcend. 
 The Fable of Phasthon would be much 
 more inftruclive than fuch a LefTon as this: 
 but I would fay, and fay it loudly, to all, 
 whom Heaven has placed already in the 
 Midft of Riches and Honours, that they 
 poiTefs the higheft Privilege, and ought to 
 exert themfelves accordingly. Thefe Peo- 
 ple have Advantages of improving their 
 Being to the nobleft Purpofes : and with 
 the fame Degree of Pains and Application, 
 that furnifhes the poor Artificer a daily 
 
 Pro-
 
 ESSAY VI. 55 
 
 Provifion for himfelf, and his Family, they 
 may become a Kind of beneficent Angels 
 to their Fellow-Creatures, and enjoy them- 
 felves, Happineis fuperior to all Pleafure. 
 
 It is a pretty Thought of Seneca, that 
 as a Merchant, whofe Goods are confider- 
 able, is more fenfible of the Blefling of a 
 fair Wind, and a fafe Pafiage, than he 
 that has only Bailaft, or fome coarfe Com- 
 modity in the VefTel -, fo Life is differently 
 enjoyed by Men, according to the different 
 Freight of their Minds. Thofe of indi- 
 gent Fortunes are generally obliged to have 
 their's too much filled, with an Attention to 
 provide the low NecefTaries of Life. In- 
 deed Riches and Greatnefs are as flrong an 
 Obftacle as the other, to fpending Life in 
 Theory and Speculation : But it is, how- 
 ever nobler, and a more delightful Tafk 
 to provide for the general Good of Multi- 
 tudes, than for the Subfiftence of a few 
 Individuals. I fpeak of what Riches might 
 be : God knows, not of what they are. 
 
 D 4 The
 
 56 ESSAY VL 
 
 The Rich, the Great, who ad an infig- 
 nificant Part in Life, are the moil defpt- 
 cable Wretches of the whole Creation : 
 "While the poor, the mean, the defpifed 
 Part of Mankind, who live up to the 
 Height of their Capacity and Opportuni- 
 ties, are noble, venerable, and happy. 
 
 Is it not amazing, that Creatures fo fond 
 cf Pre-eminence and Diftinclion, fo bir.f- 
 fed by Intereft, fo dazzled by Fortune, as 
 all the Race of Men are, mould fo blindly 
 trample tinder Foot the only true Advan- 
 tages of Fortune? The only Pre-eminence, 
 the only Honour, the higheft Joy, the 
 brighteft Luftre, that all thofe gay Things, 
 they purfue, could beftow upon " them ? 
 Where is the Beauty to be found, that will 
 choofe to wafte her Youth, where no 
 Eye can behold her ? Where is the Man 
 of Wit that will fit down contented with 
 his own Admiration, and lock up his Pa- 
 pers in a Cheft for his own private Read- 
 ing? Yet the covetous Man, as far as in him 
 lies, conceals the Advantage he is fondeft 
 
 of,
 
 E S S A Y VI. 57 
 
 of, and puts himfelf, as much as pofiible, 
 upon a Level with that Poverty, he de- 
 fpifes. Good Heaven! That People mould 
 not rather choofe to lay hold on every 
 honeft Means, that can raife them into a 
 Kind of fuperior Being. Who would not 
 go through Toil, and Pain, and Danger 
 to attain fo glorious a Pre-eminence, an 
 Honour beyond the Olympic Crown of 
 old. And yet it is but at the Expence of 
 a little Opennefs of Heart, a little Thought 
 and Contrivance, a little honeft generous 
 Induftry in beftowing properly, that a Man 
 of Rank and Fortune may fhine out like 
 the Sun, and fee a gay World flourilhing 
 under his cheerful Influence. 
 
 All thefe Things have been faid a hun- 
 dred Times. The Mifer has been painted 
 
 all his unamiable Colours : and the Pro- 
 digal has had his Lecture too. But flil!, 
 methinks, there is a great deal wanting, 
 and I do not know how to exprefs it. The 
 indolent, the thoughtlefs People of For- 
 tune, want to be put in Mind of their 
 D 5 o\va
 
 5$ E S S A Y VI. 
 
 own Importance. Some are fo lazy, fome 
 ib careleis, and fome even fo humble, that 
 they never once think of themfelves as 
 having any Place to fill, or any Duty to 
 perform, beyond the immediate Calls of 
 domeftic Life. Alas what a Miftake is 
 this ! And what noble Opportunities do 
 they neglect ! 
 
 But what muft People do ? They muft 
 awaken in their Minds that Principle of 
 Activity and Induftry which is the Source 
 of every Thing excellent and Praife-wor- 
 thy. They (hould exert themfelves in 
 every Way, improve every Occafion, em- 
 ploy every Moment. Let the Great fur- 
 vey the whole Scene, the whole Sphere of 
 their Influence, as the Mafter-Farmer, 
 from a rifing Ground, overlooks the whole 
 of his Eftate. The labouring Hinds in- 
 deed are confined to a Spot: they have 
 their daily Tafk appointed, and when that 
 is done, may lay them down to Sleep 
 without a further Care. But the Matter 
 muft wake, muft confider and deliberate. 
 
 This
 
 E S S A Y VT. 59 
 
 This Spot of Ground wants better Culti- 
 vation : That muft be laid out to more 
 Advantage : A Shade would be becoming 
 here : In yonder Place 1 mean to lead the 
 little Rivulet, that wanders near it, to re- 
 frefh thofe parched Meadows. Thofe Huf- 
 bandmen fhould be encouraged : Thefe 
 fhould be rewarded. A Word, a Look, 
 a Gefture from a Superior, is of Impor- 
 tance. Thus might the Rich, the Great, 
 the Powerful confider in like Manner. 
 " This Part of my Fortune will be nobly 
 " employed in relieving the Miferable : 
 " That, in Works of public Generofity : 
 " So much in procuring the agreeable 
 " Ornaments of Life : In this Manner I 
 " may encourage the elegant Arts : By 
 " this Way I may fet off my own Cha- 
 " racier to the beii Advantage : And by 
 " making myfelf beloved and refpected, 
 " I (hall confequemly gain an honeft In- 
 " fluence over fuch as may be bettered by 
 " my good Example : My Advice, my 
 -obation will be ufeful in fuch a 
 *' Cafe : in tlis I may do Honour to my 
 D 6 " Coun-
 
 60 E S S A Y VI. 
 
 " Country : in tbaf Up and employ 
 
 yourfelves, you who are lolling in eafy 
 Chairs, amufing away your Lives over 
 French Novels, wafting your Time in 
 fruitlefs Theory, or your Fortunes in rio- 
 tous Excefles. Remember, you have an 
 important Part to afl. It is in your own 
 Choice whether you will be, the Figure in 
 the Tapeftry, the animated Chair or Flow- 
 er-Pot, or the Hero that draws the whole 
 Attention of the Theatre, and goes off with 
 a general Plaudit. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 [61 
 
 ESSAY VII. 
 
 WITHOUT at all pretending to 
 Criticifm, it is almoft impoffible 
 to read a Variety of Books, and not form 
 fome Reflexions on the Variety of Stile in 
 which they are writ. ^ One of the firfr and 
 moft obvious, to me, is, that the plained 
 and leaft ornamented Stile is ever the moft 
 agreeable to that general Tafte, which is 
 certainly the beft Rule, by which an Author 
 can form himfelf. Particular Ornaments 
 will not more pleafe fome Fancies, than 
 they will difpleafe others. The flowery 
 epitheted Way of Writing wearies the 
 Imagination, by prefenting it with a Mul- 
 titude of wrong Objects, in Way of Si-r 
 mile and Illuftration, before it has half 
 informed the Underftanding, of what was 
 its main Purpofe. 
 
 The
 
 62 ESSAY VII. 
 
 The human Mind has fo long a Journey 
 to take, in fearch of Knowledge, that it 
 grows peevim at being led out of the Way, 
 every Minute, to look at Profpects, or 
 gather Dailies. The original Ufe of Epi- 
 thets was to paint Ideas ftronger upon the 
 Mind, by a Complication of little Cir- 
 cumftances : but, I know not how, of late, 
 they are grown into a Sort of unintelligible 
 Language, that fignifies nothing more to 
 the (lightly attentive Reader, than, that 
 the Author has a Mind to be poetical ; 
 like thofe Indian Alphabets, which firft 
 were the plain Reprefentation of fenfible 
 Objects, from thence grew into Hierogly- 
 phics, and laft of all, into a mere Cypher. 
 
 The common Sort of metaphorical Epi- 
 thets is very difagreeable. When we would 
 indulge our Fancies with the Idea of a cool 
 
 9 
 
 limpid running Stream, to have a Piece of 
 Chryfial thrown crois one's Way is quite 
 provoking. I remember two Lines, in a 
 very good Pcem, that 01 ten offended me, 
 
 and
 
 ESSAY VII. 63 
 
 and ftrew 
 Her Silver Trefies, in theChryftal Tide. 
 
 Would not the Image be more natural, and 
 make lefs Clatter in one's Head, thus : 
 
 and flrew 
 
 Her hoary Locks, wide floating o'er the 
 Stream. 
 
 Gold and Jewels do not become the 
 Mufe herfelf, half fo well, as an elegant 
 Simplicity. But elegant it muft be, and 
 noble, or elfe the Stile of Writing dege- 
 nerates into mere chit-chat Converfation. 
 Nor mould a, Writer think it any Reftrainr 
 that he is obliged to attend to the minuteft 
 Strictnefs of Grammar : fince whatever 
 ferves to make his Compofition moft clear 
 and intelligible, contributes to the giving 
 it the greateft Beauty it can poflibly have. 
 For this Reafon, too long Sentences, and 
 the Intricacies of Parenthefes ought, by 
 all Means, to be avoided, however the 
 
 Sun-
 
 54 ESSAY VII. 
 
 Sun-like Genius of fome Authors, may 
 have gilded thofe Clouds into Beauty. 
 
 This one Rule of Perfpicuity will hold 
 good," for all Sorts of People, from thofe 
 of mere Bufmefs, to thofe of abfolute Spe- 
 culation. The next is, that Writers put 
 no Conftraint upon their natural Turn of 
 Mind, which will always give a truer Spi- 
 rit than is within the Reach of any Art. 
 Yet often from an Admiration of that in 
 others, which is utterly unfuitable to them- 
 felves, they put on a Character in Writ- 
 ing, that is mighty difficult to fupport 
 throughout. The Affectation of Wit and 
 Humour leads into that low Burlcfque, 
 which is, of all Dulnefs, the moil difa- 
 greeable. Unable to reach the true Sub- 
 lime, they are willing to bring it down to 
 their own Pitch. Htnce fpring fuch Mul- 
 titudes of Travefties, Parodies, and fuch 
 like Perverfions of PafTages really fine : 
 When, if they can but prdent you with 
 low, and often dirty Images, inftead of 
 
 fuch.
 
 ESSAY VII. 65 
 
 fuch as are noble and beautiful, yet in 
 fuch a Manner, as ftrongly to put you in 
 Mind of the Difference, all the Way, they 
 are greatly conceited of their own Ingenu- 
 ity. Where any of thefe have real Humour 
 in them, it mud arife from fome particular 
 Occafion : and is by no Means inherent in 
 that Kind of Compofition. 
 
 But while little Wits think, that lower- 
 ing and debafing the Sublime, is being 
 witty, thofe, who with an exalted Genius, 
 have a fportive Livelinefs of Temper, can 
 find Means of ennobling their eafiefl and 
 lightefl Compofitions. Of all People Mr. 
 .Prior has fucceeded the beft, in this Way, 
 if he had not, now and then, allowed his 
 Pen too much Licence for the Demurenefs 
 of the Mufe. As Homer's Dreams were 
 the Dreams of Jupiter, fo Prior's Gaieties 
 are the Sportings of Apollo : and where 
 he introduces his fabled Deities, in a 
 mirthful Scene, it is not by deprefiing them 
 to the Level of merry Mortals, but by- 
 employ-
 
 66 ESSAY VII. 
 
 employing (to ufe the Phrafe of an ex- 
 cellent modern Author) " a new Species 
 *' of the Sublime that has, hitherto, 
 " received no Name." 
 
 There is a celebrated PafTage in Longi- 
 nus, in which he prefers, upon the whole, 
 a Mixture of ftriking Faults and Beauties, 
 to the flat Correctnefs of an uncenfurable, 
 laboured Author. One of the Books, 
 which to thofe, who for Want of Tranfla- 
 tions, can know little of liberates and 
 Demofthenes, has moft convincingly proved 
 the Juftnefs of this Determination, is Dr. 
 Barrow's Sermons, who feems moft exactly 
 to anfwer what Lorginus fays of the irre- 
 fiftible Greek Orator. His Expreflions are 
 frequently fingular, and though crowded 
 together, are fo poured out from the 
 Abundance of one of the beft Hearts, 
 that the fineft turned Periods are infipid in 
 Comparifon. His Genius too, whatever 
 were the Littlenefles of Language, in thofe 
 Days, was certainly poetical and noble: 
 
 and
 
 ESSAY VII. 67 
 
 and his Imagination fo warmed and de- 
 lighted with the faireft View of every 
 Thing in the Scheme of Providence, that 
 Religion wears, through every Page of 
 his, its proper Grace, 
 
 ESSAY
 
 ESSAY VIII. 
 
 TO enliven an Airing, the other Morn- 
 ing, Prior's Henry and Emma was 
 read aloud, to the Company , and the dif- 
 ferent Sentiments they expreft, upon it, 
 determined me, to put down my own upon 
 Paper, as that Poem has always been a 
 Favourite with me, and yet wants, I think, 
 a good deal of Explanation, and Excufe. 
 
 The Tale is introduced, in a Way fo 
 much more interefting, than one commonly 
 meets with, in Paftoral Dialogues ; with 
 Circumftances of fuch Tendernefs and 
 Delicacy, and Images fo fmiling and en- 
 gaging, that one is concerned, before his 
 Characters have faid a Word, to have them 
 keep up to the Ideas, which partial Imagi- 
 nation had formed of each. That of Emma 
 
 is
 
 ESSAY VIIL 69 
 
 is diftinguifhed by ibmething fo peculiarly 
 mild and affectionate, that if we do not 
 attend to this, as her chief Characleriftic, 
 we (hall be apt to be furpnzed at many of 
 her mod beautiful Sentiments, as too dif- 
 ferent from the common Ways of think- 
 ing, on fuch Occafions. 
 
 Emma fufceptible of foft Impreflions, 
 beyond what were to be wifhed in a Cha- 
 racter, were it fet up for a general Pattern, 
 her Soul entirely turned to thofe tender 
 Attachments, that are not inconfiftent with 
 flrict Virtue, had long been wooed with 
 every irrefiftible Art by an accomplifhed 
 Youth, whole Virtues and Excellencies 
 could not but difcover themfelves, in fuch 
 a Space of Time, on a thoufand Occafions. 
 By the Characters given, on each Side, 
 their Pafiion feems to have been grounded 
 on ajuflEfteem: and the known Truth 
 and Goodnefs of Henry had produced in 
 her Mind, fuch an unlimited Confidence, 
 that it was impoflible (he could fufpect 
 him of any Crime. To try her Conftancy, 
 
 he
 
 70 ESSAY VIII. 
 
 he accufes himfelf, in the harlhefl Terms, 
 as a Murderer : but it was eafy for Emma's 
 Heart to furnifh him with fufficient Ex- 
 cufes. The wild unfettled State of the 
 Ifland, in thofe early Times, torn by fo 
 many, and fo fierce Factions, involved the 
 Young and Brave, in perpetual Bloodfhed. 
 What was called Valour in one Party, 
 would, in the other, be branded as Mur- 
 der. In thofe Days, the vaft Forefts were 
 filled with generous Outlaws : and the 
 Brave mixt with the Vile, from a Likenefs 
 of Fortune, not of Crimes. 
 
 I have dwelt upon this, becaufe, at firfl 
 Reading, it offended me to imagine, that 
 Emma mould be fo unmoved with a Sup- 
 pofition of her Lover's Guilt, and continue 
 her Affection, when fhe muft have loft her 
 Efteem. That Point, I think, is now 
 cleared up : But I am extremely forry, 
 that, to prevent all Scandal, Prior did not 
 alter a few Lines, in the Aniwerme makes 
 him, to his open Declaration of Incon- 
 ftancy. In fpite of all Prejudice, there is 
 
 certainly
 
 .ESSAY VIII. 71 
 
 certainly a Want of all Spirit and Delicacy 
 in it. If what he told her was Fact, he 
 could not be faultlefs, nor could her Af- 
 fection continue to be innocent. The fame 
 mild Benevolence to her Rival, might . 
 furely have been expreft without the Ex- 
 travagance of defiring to attend them as a 
 Servant. Permit me to infert the Altera- 
 tion here. 
 
 " Go then, while I, in hopelefs Abfence 
 " prove 
 
 " By what I (hall endure, how much I 
 " love." 
 
 This potent Beauty, this triumphant Fair 
 
 This happy Object of our different Care, 
 
 Her fhall my Thoughts, through vari- 
 ous Life attend, 
 
 "With all the Kindnefs of the fondeft 
 Friend : 
 
 Loved for thy Sake, howe'er her haughty 
 Scorn 
 
 May triumph o'er me, as a Thing for- 
 lorn, 
 
 For
 
 72 ESSAY VIII. 
 For her my warmed Wifhes fhall be made 
 And Heav'n implored lor Blefllngs on 
 
 her Head. 
 
 O may me never feel a Pain, like mine ! 
 Never for then a double Guilt were 
 
 thine. 
 Here muft I flay: Like Thought,^ 
 
 were Actions free 
 No Wrongs, no Hardfhips mould 
 
 divorce from Thee 
 Thy Emma, not a Rival's Company." 1 
 But wandering Thoughts, and anxious 
 
 Cares are now 
 
 All that a rigid Virtue will allow. 
 Go happy then, forget the Wretch 
 
 you leave, 
 Nor for a Woman's Weaknefs vainly 
 
 grieve. 
 Thy Fate decreed Thee falfe : the fame 
 
 Decree 
 Entailed a hopelefs Conftancy on me. 
 
 The few following Lines-,- in the fame 
 Speech, are fo eafily adapted to thefe, that 
 
 the
 
 ESSAY VIII. 7$ 
 
 tkc Change in them, is r.Dt worth men- 
 tioning. 
 
 There is fomething infinitely beautiful 
 in all the tender Pafiages of this Poet. He 
 has the Art of reprefenting all the Sotc- 
 nefs of the Paffion, without any of its 
 Madnefs. Other Writers raife their Ex- 
 preflions, with fuch Hyperboles, as are a 
 Profanation of much nobler Sentiments. 
 Methinks Softnefs and Tendernefs are Uc. 
 only Charade fifties of a mortal Love. The 
 Strains of Adoration ill become Anacrecn's 
 Lyre i and are ill addreft to human Imper- 
 fection. Thole imaained everlaitino; At- 
 
 -^ O 
 
 tachments, that rebel againil Mortality ; 
 thofe infinite Ideas, that grafp at ail Ex- 
 cellence, in one finite Object, are fatal 
 Abfurdities, that have both their Guile 
 and Punifhment. 
 
 This Kind of Sentiment is quite unne- 
 ceflary : we may furvey thofe we love, fur- 
 rounded with all the Frailties and Imper- 
 fections of human Nature^ and yet be par- 
 
 VUL. 1. E tial
 
 74 ESSAY YIIL 
 tial to thefe Imperfections, as we are t<3 
 our own. Pity does but endear. the tender 
 Tie, where it is not incompatible with 
 Erteem. The Pleafures of giving and re* 
 ceivingy from the dear Object of Affec- 
 fion, mutual Protection, Comfort and Re-^ 
 lief, are the Joys that we are formed mod 
 ienfible of, as liich a Diipofition was, in 
 our preient Situation, moil necefTary for 
 the Prefervation, and Happincfs of So- 
 ciety. 
 
 The E':pre$ons of this Kind of Senti- 
 ment are, on the other Hand, as offenfively 
 mifuied, when applied to facred Subjects, 
 as they too often are by the foft Enthufi-" 
 afm of conftitutional Pietifts, Of human 
 l,ove f Kindnels, Compafilon, mutual Care, 
 mutual Aflrftance, mutual Forgivenefs of 
 a thoufand Ifttie Blemifhes and Errors, 
 ?re neceflary Ingredients, have their Me- 
 Tit, and their Reward. All that rrfircd 
 Caprice, that fhaws its Kindntfs, like Ali- 
 cia in Jane Shore, 
 
 " In
 
 k S S A Y VIII. 7 
 
 " In everlafting Waitings, and Com- 
 " plainings/' 
 
 ft as contrary to this Syftem, as it is to the 
 
 Happinefs of whoever is honoured by its 
 Perfecution j and proceeds from a Failure, 
 in Point of Confidence, which, when once 
 the Honour of a Character, juftly efteemed 
 worthy, is ferioufly engaged, Ihould remain 
 unfhaken as a Rock. This is prettily ex- 
 preft, by Prior's Celia* 
 
 Reading thy Verfe, who heeds, faid I 
 If here, or there, his Glances flew : 
 
 O free for ever be his Eye, 
 
 "Whofe Heart to me is ever true. 
 
 Another great, as great a Contracliclioh 
 to the amiable Kind of Temper, that Prior 
 defcribes, is that violent Deteftation upon 
 even juft Canfe of Offence^ which fo 
 much too often verifies the Poet's Expref- 
 
 flOD) 
 
 E 2 Hca/en
 
 7.6 ESSAY VIII. 
 
 Heaven has no Curfe, like Love to Ha- 
 tred turn'd, 
 Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman fcorn'd. 
 
 The Hatred of Anger can juftly proceed 
 only from Injury. Real, premeditated In- 
 jury can proceed from no fuch Character, as 
 could ever be the Object of a well placed 
 Love : and therefore, in this laft, the In- 
 jury retaliates on a Perfon's own miftaken 
 Choice : who has therefore no more Rea- 
 fon to be angry with the other, for not 
 acting up to an ideal Perfection, than to 
 be difpleafed at any other Inftance of wrong 
 Behaviour in thofe, who never were the 
 Objects of any juft Partiality. 
 
 But if the Character be mixt, faulty in- 
 deed, but not totally bad, Pity methinks 
 fhou'.d gladly take hold on the Occafion, 
 and banifh, at once, all Bitternefs of Re- 
 fcntment. Religion itfelf forbids the Spirit 
 of uncharitable Anger and Revenge. When 
 there has ever been a real Affection, it can 
 
 never,
 
 ESSAY VIII. 77 
 never, I fancy, be fo rooted out, as to give 
 place to thole hateful Emotions. 
 
 Whoever then yield up their Minds to' 
 thefe Exceffes, muft confefs their former 
 Partiality to have been founded merely in 
 Pride, Vanity, and Selnfhnefs: for Kind- 
 neis and Benevolence will never ceaie to 
 exift, whilft their Objects remain, in any 
 Degree unchanged. If thofe Objects were 
 only our dear felves, every Difappointmenc 
 of our Pride, Intereft, and Vanity will 
 wound us to the H^art. But if our 
 Thoughts had a more generous 'Aim, if 
 the Happinefs of one dearer than ourfelves, 
 was the Center of our Wifhes, we mall joy- 
 fully acquiefce in any Means, by which 
 that Happinefs may be attained, laying 
 ourfelves entirely out of the Cafe : and 
 ihould the Injury to us, be ever fo grievous, 
 we (hall only wifli for them, with the fame 
 difinterefted Ardour, Ariftides did for the 
 Athenians, who had banifhed him, that the 
 Time may never come, when they fiiall 
 repent it. 
 
 E 3 ESSAY
 
 I 7? J 
 
 : 
 
 I KNOW nothing more common, and 
 almoft unavoidable, than the Difpofi^ 
 tion of cenfuring thofe Manners and In- 
 clinations in others, which we are fenfible 
 would, in our own Tempers be faulty, or 
 which lie crofs to the Bent of our natural 
 Humours. Yet I am perfuaded, in many of 
 thefe Inftances, were we to make but com- 
 mon Allowances for the Difference of Con- 
 ititution, of Situation, of Knowledge, and 
 of Perception, we mould find, according 
 to a good-natured French faying, thatT0#/ 
 le Monde a Raifcn. 
 
 That Tendernefs, which we feel for a 
 
 true Friend, is, in fome Minds, fo infepa- 
 
 rably blended with every Idea, that the 
 
 dcaicr half of every Enjoyment is liable 
 
 * 10
 
 E S S A Y IX. 79 
 
 to he torn away at once, and the Stroke of 
 a Moment mall caft its Gloom over the 
 longeft Years of Life. Kindnefs and Gra- 
 titude, the very Laws of Constancy, and 
 the Frame of human Nature, feem to exa<5t 
 of us this melancholy Return, for all that 
 refined and fuperior Happinefs, which in 
 (bcli an Union, we have enjoyed. 
 
 I cannot help imagining however,' that 
 there may be a good deal of Reafon on the 
 contrary Side : and as one never is fo fcn- 
 fible of the Force of Reafon, as when it 
 is heightened by the Eloquence of forne 
 prefent Feeling ; fo this came moft flronglv 
 into my Head, during fome folitary Hours 
 of lllnefs, that very lately put me in M;nd 
 of fuch an eternal Separation from my 
 Friends. The Enjoyments of Life are 
 what, I believe, all Perfons of ferious 
 Thought, would eafily refign for them- 
 felvcs, when they are lure, at the fame 
 Time, to be freed from its Difquiets. But, 
 to think that we may carry away with us, 
 into the Grave, all the Joy and Satisfac- 
 f E 4 tioa
 
 8o ESSAY IX. 
 
 tion of thofe, to whom we ever wifti the 
 mod j and leave them behind us, in a 
 "World where every Support is wanting, 
 entirely deflitute of any (of any fuch I 
 mean, as the ordinary Methods of Provi- 
 dence have appointed) is the only Reflec- 
 tion, which, at fuch a Moment, can dif- 
 turb the. Compofure of an innocent and 
 religrious Mind. 
 
 '> 
 
 I do not know how far the Pride of gir- 
 ing Pain may extend, in fome People, but 
 for myfelf I proteft, that as earneftly as I 
 v/ifH to be remembered with a kind Ef- 
 rcein, I could not bear the Thought of 
 that Remembrance being a painful one. 
 For this Reafon, I was fummoning up, in 
 my Mind, all that might be alledged, for 
 what I ufed to call Lightnefs of Temper, 
 and found it much more, than I had ima- 
 gined. 
 
 Indeed, if the Perfons, we lament, were 
 truely dear to us, we ought, for their 
 Sakes, to reftrain that immoderate Sorrow, 
 
 which
 
 ESSAY IX. 8 1 
 
 v/hich, if they could behold ir, we aic 
 fare, that it would be with the utmoft 
 Concern. This, however, is an Argu- 
 ment, that will by no Means hold, in all 
 Cafes : but there are others more general. 
 I will not argue that fo fhort a Life, as 
 ours, feems to contradict the Idea of eter- 
 nal Attachments : becaufe I cannot help 
 flattering myfelf that they, may be conti- 
 nued, and improved through every future 
 State of Be'ng. But that they ought to be 
 fo moderated, as to contradict no Purpofc" 
 of the State, we are at prefent placed in, 
 is a Truth, that will fcarcely be denied. 
 The Inferiority of our Station, the Frailty 
 and Imperfection of our Nature, make 
 Submifilon to unerring Vvifdom, one cf 
 our firft Duties : and how do we let our- 
 felves up, in Opp.ofition- to it, when upon 
 its withdrawing any one BlefTing, -.however" 
 kindly to us, we flubbornly determine to 
 fiiut our Minds againft every other, which 
 it- indulgently continues ! 
 
 E 5
 
 82 E S S A Y IX. 
 
 Yet, after all thefe Confiderations, the 
 Characters of Arachne and Maria ftill fur- 
 pafs me, though they no longer give me 
 the Difguft they ufed to do. To hear 
 them talk, with the greateft good Nature 
 of any prefent Object of Compaflion, 
 otherwife ever fo indifferent to them : to 
 fee how really they are affected by every 
 little Inftance of Kindnefs, and how happy 
 they are in every trifling Amufement, one 
 would imagine them extremely fufceptible 
 of Imprefiions. But then, in the Midft 
 of a gay Converfation, to hear them run 
 over, without the leaft Emotion, a long 
 Lift of once intimate Friends, and then go 
 on as earneftly about Trifles, as if fuch. 
 People had never been. It is impoffible 
 not to wonder at their happy Conftitutions, 
 and eternal Flow of Spirits. When I tell 
 you, I really efteem thefe Women, fhall I 
 be reckoned fevere, if I fay they are in- 
 genious, without Parts, and good humoui- 
 cd, without Sentiments ?
 
 E S S A Y IX. 83 
 
 Theagenes is fcarcely lefs happy, in his 
 Frame of Mind, but more fo, in his 
 Strength of Reafon. His Genius is the 
 mod extenfive, his Imagination the mofl: 
 flowery that can be : and thefe fupply per- 
 petual Employments for his Mind, divert- 
 ing it from too deep an Attention to me- 
 lancholy Subjects. His Temper is really 
 generous and benevolent : this makes him 
 interefted in every Body's Welfare, that 
 comes within his Reach : and fuel: an Ac- 
 tivity of Mind is the fureft Food of Cheer- 
 fulnefs. As fome People are peculiarly 
 turned to amufe themfelves with the Odd- 
 ceffes and Deformities of Natures, Thea- 
 genes has an Eye for its Beauties only. 
 His Speculations wander over the great 
 Objects of the Univerfe, and find fome- 
 thing curious, in the Detail even of me- 
 chanic Arts. In Characters, he often errs 
 on the favourable Side ; and by this Means 
 fometimes lofes, too much, the Diftinc- 
 tion of different Kinds of Merit^ and fub- 
 jtcts himfelf to a friendly Laugh, As he 
 Looks upon the World, with a philofophic,. 
 E. 6 and
 
 84 E S S A Y IX. 
 
 .and a grateful Eye, he can find fomething 
 endearing, in whatever Part of it he is 
 placed ; like a ftrong Plant, that will take 
 Root and fiourifh, in every . Soil. When 
 one Set of Acquaintance is fwept away, by 
 Time, his fociable Temper unites itfelf 
 with the next, he falls into -, and is to be 
 confidered, in this View, like a Drop of 
 Water, which, though feparated from its. 
 native Stream, yet naturally blends with 
 any other Mafs of the fame Element, while 
 difunited it would lofe itsUfe, and its very 
 Being. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 I *5 J 
 
 ESSAY X. 
 
 IT is a reigning Maxim, through all the 
 Works of Epictetus, that every Body. 
 may be happy, if they pleafe : and the 
 Defire of being happy, is but in other. 
 Words, the Definition of fuch a virtuous 
 and reafonable Self-Love, as was originally, 
 implanted in us, by the Author of our 
 Nature, for innumerable wife and gracious 
 Purpofes. No Part of our Conftitution was 
 given us, without important Reafon : and 
 therefore it were Folly to fuppofe this of 
 fo efisntial a one as Self-Love : but how 
 often it errs, in its Aim, and in its De- 
 gree, there needs no Inftance to prove , 
 nor that when it does fo, it is of all other 
 Principles the moft milchievous, as it is 
 ever the moft active. 
 
 6 Violent
 
 86 E S S A Y X. 
 
 Violent Declamations, either for, or 
 againft any Thing of the great Frame of 
 Nature, ferve but to (hew an injudicious 
 Eloquence, which by proving too much, 
 in Effect proves abfolutely nothing. Even 
 Pafiion may be improved into Merit : and 
 Virtues themfelves may deviate into very 
 blameable Errors. Unbiased Reafon, if 
 fuch a Thing there be, in this mixt State 
 of human Nature, furvcys both Sides at 
 once, and teaches us, to moderate our Opi- 
 nions, to draw the proper Advantages, 
 from every Circumftaoce, and carefully to> 
 guard againft all its Dangers* 
 
 The fame Principle of Self-Love, that 
 adds new Fire and Strength to every Paf- 
 fion, when the loofe Rein is given up to 
 Fancy, at other Times checks our Indul- 
 gence of thofe Paffions, and Purfuics, by 
 making us reflect on the Danger, and Pain, 
 that attends them. The fame Tie that fo 
 clofely binds us down to our own Intereft, 
 makes us fympathize, in the Fortunes of 
 our Fellow-Creatures. By Self-Love we 
 
 kara
 
 E S S A Y X. 87 
 
 learn to pity in others, what we dread, or 
 fear for ourfelves. In this Balance we weigh 
 their Diftreffes with our own : and what 
 Self-Love has ihown us, under the Name 
 of fuch, to ourfelves, we fhall always fiip- 
 pofe the fame to every one elfe, and kindly 
 commiferate the Sorrows, we have felt. 
 
 Self-Love endears Virtue to us, by the 
 Tendernefs it gives us, for whatever De- 
 gree of it we perceive in ourfelves : and 
 in the fame Way, makes us look with a 
 peculiar Charity on thofe, whofe Faults are 
 of the fame Kind with ours. Every Body 
 has, I believe, a favourite Virtue, and a 
 favoured Weaknefs, which being firft ufed 
 to in themfelves, they are fure to give 
 Quarter and Applaufe to, in every one 
 elie. By this Partiality, particular Friend- 
 fhips are generally determined. 
 
 There is a lower Degree of it, which 
 \vould be quite ridiculous, if that too had 
 not its valuable Ufe in connecting human 
 Kind together, As we grow any Way ac- 
 quainted.
 
 S-8 ESS A Y X. 
 
 quainted with People, though fometimes 
 it is only by Character, fometimes even by 
 ibme Circumftance of no more Significa- 
 tion, than having fat at the fame Table ,j 
 -received, or paid ibme trifling Mark of 
 Civility, nay even having it to fay, that 
 we have feen them, we affume a Kind of 
 Property in them. Such is the Impor- 
 tance, which the leaft Connection, with our 
 dear felves, can give to whatever we pleafe, 
 that if we have feen People, butonefingle 
 .Time, it makes often a wide Difference in 
 our Way of attending to what is faid 
 about them. Recollect but any Conver- 
 fation you have been in, where Pcrfor.s 
 .though of very little. Confequence, have 
 been talked of, and I dare fay you may 
 remember, that two or three of the Corn*- 
 pany, immediately, fell to recollecting 
 fuch idle Circumftances in their Know- 
 ledge of them, as could receive no Value, 
 but from that. Knowledge itfelf. 
 
 This Difpofition,. I think, {hows- how 
 
 ife, 
 aad 
 
 much we were intended to mix in Life- :
 
 E S S A Y X. ty 
 
 and it muft be a ftrong Reafon, that will 
 draw the fame Advantages for Practice* 
 from the enlarged Views, given by Read- 
 ing and Speculation, which even the com- 
 moneft Underftandings are fitted to re- 
 ceive, from their natural Conftitutron. If 
 thefe are neglected, we fall into a thoufand 
 P'aults, of which every one carries its own 
 Punimment along with it. People who 
 confine themfelves ftrictly, to a fmall Cir- 
 cle of Acquaintance, are in great Danger 
 of contracting a Narrownefs of Mind : 
 while thofe, who enter freely into Society, 
 gain by it fuch an Eafe, and Opennefs of 
 Temper, as makes them look upon every 
 Intereft, and Pleafure, to be, in fome De- 
 gree, their own. 
 
 The Great, who live immured, as it 
 were, within the Inclofures of their vaft 
 Pofleffions, look upon thofe of a lower 
 Rank, as Inhabitants of a diftant World 
 from themfelves. If ever they have any 
 Thing to do with them, it is Matter of 
 Conftraint, and Uneafmefs, and therefore 
 
 never
 
 4?o E S S A Y X. 
 
 never can be done with a good Grace, 
 Their Sentiments, and Amufements are 
 fomething delicate and myfterious, that 
 the Vulgar are not fuppofed capable of 
 apprehending, but are to be kept at an 
 awful Diftance, which, if eve r they leave, 
 it is infufferable Intrufion. 
 
 All diftinct Sets of People are apt to 
 confider themfelves as feparate from the 
 reft of Mankind. Hence the perpetual 
 Enmities and Prejudices of different Pro- 
 fefllons : Hence the continual Oppofition 
 of Parties, Sects, and Ages : Hence the 
 general Cenfures, thrown at Random, on 
 all. When once what we have renftired 
 and laughed at, comes to be our own 
 Cafe, we learn to make thofe reafonable 
 Allowances, that, before, we never fo 
 
 i r 
 
 much as thought or. 
 
 A Beauty, that has been feverely ufed 
 by the Small- Pox, learns to efteem Peo- 
 ple, for fomething more than the Perfon. 
 A mifreprefented Chara&er can allow a 
 
 great
 
 E S S A Y X. 9 j 
 
 great deal for the Uncharitablenefs of 
 People's Opinions, and think mildly of a 
 blemifhed one. The Age, which at fifr 
 teen, feerned almoft Antediluvian, grows 
 ftrangely fupportable, as we approach it i 
 and Lyfis, in an airy Drefs, no longer rU 
 dicules People that go without Hoods, 
 after thirty. I grow trifling. This Sub* 
 ject of Self-Love, affords Matter of ferious 
 Reflection and Gratitude. It is furely one 
 of the greateft Marks of infinite Wifdom, 
 that what, at firft Sight, may feem only to 
 regard ourfelves, is one of the ftrongeft 
 Ties to focial Virtue : and that the very- 
 Attention to others, which fhould feem 
 moft contrary to our firft Notions of Self* 
 love, is indeed, the trueft Support, and 
 moft rational Purfuit of it, and which 
 alone can preferve it from degenerating, 
 into mifcrable Weaknefs and Folly. 
 
 Man, like the gen'rous Vine, fupported 
 lives, 
 
 The Strength he gains is from the Em- 
 brace he gives. 
 
 On
 
 2 E S S A Y X. 
 
 On their own Axis, as the Planets run 
 Yet make aT once, their Circle round 
 
 the Sun, 
 
 So two confident Motions aft the Soul, 
 And one regards itfelf,and one the whole. 
 Thus God and Nature linked the ge- 
 neral Frame 
 
 And bad Self-love, and Social be the 
 &me, POPE* 
 
 ESSAT
 
 ESSAY XI. 
 
 [WAS making a Vifit the other Day, 
 to People, thatpafs for what are called 
 r our very fenfible clever Folks. They 
 iave a large Family of Children, of whom 
 hey feem fond without Indulgence : and 
 
 be fure they educate them, mighty 'well. 
 vVho is more capable of doing it ? They 
 ire prudent, have good Senie, and know 
 
 1 great deal of the World : but alas, it is 
 :his Knowledge of the World, as they call 
 r, that fpoils every Thing. " Come hi- 
 ' ther, my dear," (faid the Lady of the 
 [Joule to a little Girl about five Years old, 
 who was crying to go out of the Room al- 
 moft as foon as fhe came in) " Come hi- 
 " ther Lucy : Look ye my dear, if you 
 " will behave yourfelf prettily, and go and 
 " talk to ail the Company, Papa will 
 
 " give
 
 94- S S A Xt. 
 
 c< give you a fine new Doll To-morrow." 
 This you may be fure, ftopt the Crying fof 
 the prefent. But What will be the Effect 
 of it ? Every Time Mifs Lucy wants a 
 new Play-thing, (he has only to mifbehave 
 herfelf, and fhe is fure of being bribed into 
 good Humour agairi. Thus by an Excefs 
 of good Management in her Mamma, the 
 little Gifpy will be taught to be artful and 
 peevifti, at an Age, whofe greateft Orna- 
 ment is Innocence and good Humour. 
 
 Two or three Inftances more, of the 
 fame Kind of Prudence, had quite awak- 
 ened my Sincerity, and I could not forbear 
 fpeaking of it, with the Freedom of an 
 old Acquaintance* as loon as the more for- 
 mal Part of the Circle was difperfed. " My 
 " dear" (replied Prudentia^ with a com- 
 pafiionate Kind of Smile) " you have lived 
 <c in the Clouds, all your t)ays, and I am 
 " forry to fee you are not out of them yet. 
 u For my Part* who have long been fen- 
 " fible, that it is upon this Earth, and not 
 u up in the Air, that I am to aft my Part 
 
 * iii
 
 E S $ A Y XI* 95 
 
 " in Lifej I confcfs, nothing feems more' 
 natural to me, than that Children (hould 
 " be taught to follow the fame Motive, by 
 " which they are fare to be actuated, all 
 " the reft of their Lives." Can you pof- 
 fibly mean fo low a Motive as Intereft 1 
 faid I. " I certainly do. For as low as 
 *' you think it, you muft be fenfible, if 
 " you reflect a Moment, that it is what 
 " we all of us purfue, Thofe, who give 
 " up their Happinefs, in the prefent State, 
 " with the moft difinterefted Air, do it 
 " only to intitle themfelves to the Blefiings 
 " of a future one." 
 
 Suppofing that this was the Cafe, inter- 
 rupted J, the Nature of the Rewards, in 
 thefe two In (lances is fo very different* 
 that it would hinder you from drawing any 
 Inferences, from them, in Favour of yotaf 
 own Scheme. If the Greatnefs, or Gai- 
 eties of this World were to be our Re- 
 compence, I mould think, that to reward 
 a Child with a Doll or a Hobby-horfe 
 were framing its Mind to proper Expecla-
 
 96 E S S A Y XL 
 
 tions and Defires, but will you let me 
 talk a little upon Subjects, that are cer- 
 tainly above my Reach ? O by all Means, 
 aniwered Prudentia, Clemene was not to 
 call upon me till eight, and I fhall be 
 mighty glad to hear your Romance of 
 Education, in the mean Time. I dare 
 fay it will be pretty : but you will find it 
 a mere Romance, I am perfuaded, ten 
 Years hence, when you have a Family of 
 your own well be that as it will : you 
 have given me Leave to talk, and that is 
 all, 1 have to do at prefent. 
 
 I was going to fay, continued I, that I 
 cannot help imagining, that a great Part 
 of our Happinefs, in a future State, may 
 arife from a Senfe of Right, abftracttdly 
 from all other Confiderations. That, at 
 Irail, as much of it will proceed from the 
 Thought, of having acted agreeably to 
 the infallible Will of the moil perfect of 
 Beings, as from that of having deferved 
 the Favour of the Lord of the Univerfe, 
 and, from the Hopes of any Happinefs, 
 
 which
 
 E S S A Y XL 97 
 which infinite Goodnefs and Power may 
 beftow on us. In fhort it feems to me, as 
 if to contribute, each in our inferior Way, 
 to the Order and Beauty of the Univerfe, 
 was at once the nobleft, and the jufteft Mo- 
 tive, and the higheft Reward of Goodnefs. 
 
 " Lucia is not old enough to enter into 
 " all thefe abftracted Reafonings," faid 
 Prudentia. " In our World, we muft treat 
 " Children, as Children, and convince 
 " them by their Senfes, in Default of 
 " their Judgments. I do not know what 
 " People may do in Fairy Land. I fup- 
 " pole, if you had a Son you would ex- 
 11 peel, he fhould be Divinity ProfefTor 
 " at five Years old : but I am afraid, 
 '* Lucy would not be at all a fit Wife for 
 " him." 
 
 Look ye, faid I, you fhall not laugh me 
 out of my Argument : and fo arm your- 
 klf with Patience, and hear me out. Your 
 Suppofition is an excellent good one: but I 
 am afraid, I mall be lefs miftaken, in fup- 
 
 Voi. I. F poling,
 
 98 E S S A Y XI. 
 
 pofmg, that a Child,, who has been taught 
 no other End in behaving itfelf well, than 
 the gaining fome favourite Point, or fome 
 darling Toy, will never make a difmterefted 
 Minifter, will never regard the Reality of 
 Virtue, and will be ready to throw off 
 even the Appearance of it, when it is con- 
 tradictory to Intereft. 
 
 *' But muft one never give a poor Child 
 " any Encouragement then ?" cried Pru- 
 dentia. 
 
 You miftake me entirely, faid I, let 
 good Behaviour be always attended by 
 Reward-, but you make it the Confequence 
 of bad Behaviour. As for the particular 
 Rewards of Toys and Sugar-Plumbs, I 
 confefs mylelf, in general, no great Friend 
 to them. The Approbation of Friends is 
 a better Incentive to act Right ; and gives, 
 even to fuch Children, a Pleafure of a 
 much higher Kind. Thefe fhould be mixed, 
 however, in a proper Degree : and cer- 
 tainly even the laft ought not to be too 
 much infifted on. The Notion of doing 
 
 risht,
 
 E S S A Y XI, 99 
 
 right, for the Sake of doing right, fhould 
 be gently inculcated, and ftrengthened by 
 Degrees, as they advance in Age, and 
 Underftanding. This will fettle, in Time, 
 into a firm and ftedfaft Rightnefs of Mind, 
 \vhich Intereft fhall never bias, which Ad- 
 verfity fhall never fhake, which Profperity 
 fhall never enervate. From hence will 
 proceed a calm and even Cheerfulnefs of 
 Temper, a regular and uniform Conduct, 
 that mall make them for ever happy in 
 themfelves, and refpected by others. Not 
 the wild Gaiety of one Hour, damped by 
 uneafy Reflections, the next : Not a per- 
 petual Difpute, between Reafon and Paf- 
 fion, which makes People good by Fits 
 and Starts only. Miferable is the State of 
 thefe : and yet perhaps it is almoft always 
 the ErTe6t of their not knowing, from the 
 firft, what End to aim at. Intereft and 
 Ambition attract them, by a thonfand glit- 
 tering Temptations : and yet, in fpite of 
 all thefe, in the Mid ft of their Purfuir, 
 they feel themfelves often checked by the 
 fecret Monitor in the Heart, who tells 
 F 2 therm
 
 ESSAY XL 
 
 them, vue were formed for fomething nobler 
 than Greatnefs, and that, neither Riches, 
 nor Pleafures are the chief End of Life. 
 
 But what is this nobler End ? Perhaps 
 it is the Applaufe of Men, the Immorta- 
 lity, which Fame beftows, or at lead, the 
 Pleafure of being well looked on, and ef- 
 teemed by the People among whom we 
 live. Fatal Imagination ! Source of wild 
 and mifchievous Exploits, of Wars and 
 pefolations: and, in lefs noble Minds, the 
 Origin of Hypocrify, and every hateful 
 Deceit. To look upon the Refpect and 
 Admiration of Men, as the ultimate End 
 of Life, is, perhaps, one of the mod dan- 
 gerous Errors, into which we can fall. 
 While it is the Perfection of a Character 
 to pay a proper Regard to it, to rejoice in 
 it as the amiable Attendant of real Virtue : 
 but to be willing to facrifice the faireft 
 Appearance, to what is really right : and 
 bear the Contempt of Mankind, rather 
 than not deferve their Efteem. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 [ ioi I 
 
 ESSAY XII. 
 
 LORD BACON has an Eflay upon 
 Cunning, that if it falls into wrong 
 Hands, is more likely to teach People 
 Sleights and Devices, than to furnim a 
 Warning againft them. And yet the Eflay 
 is, initfelf, excellent: but methinks it were 
 Time well beftowed to make a juft Dif- 
 tincYion between Cunning and Prudence, 
 a blameable Artfulnefs, and a laudable 
 Dexterity. To fix the Bounds of thefe two 
 Borderers, and determine the nice Difference, 
 
 " Where ends the Virtue, or begins the 
 " Vice." 
 
 to exercife the Authority offuperior Rea- 
 
 fon and Underftanding, to make ufe of 
 
 their lawful Advantages, can furely be no- 
 
 F Fault,.
 
 102 ESSAY XII. 
 Fault. On the contrary, it is making the 
 beft of our Nature, and employing Facul- 
 ties that were not intended to lie idle. It 
 is by Reafon and Underftanding, that hu- 
 man Kind are fuperior to Brutes of in- 
 finitely greater Strength and Force of Body, 
 and the fame Sort of Difference fubfifts 
 among Men. A brutal Nature is to be 
 confidered in the fame Light, whether the 
 Animal, it governs, go upon two Legs or 
 four, only in our Behaviour towards the 
 Brutes of our own Kind, we have this ad- 
 ditional Confideration, that there is, at the 
 fame Time, a Mixture of fomething divine 
 and excellent in every human Soul, which 
 claims ftrongly our Affiftance, in fubduing 
 that worle half, fo prevalent in the Many. 
 Thus, thofe who by Wifdom lead others 
 lefs wife to act wifely, not only make 
 them, as inferior Natures, fubfervient to 
 excellent Purpofes, but, at the fame Time, 
 do them a real and important Good, and 
 raife them above what they were. When, 
 by innocent Aits, we foothe an uneafy 
 Temper : when, by fufpending the Impe- 
 
 tuofity
 
 ESSAY XII. 103 
 
 tuofity of a Perfon's PafTion, we give him 
 Leifure to recall his Reafon, we do but 
 free him from the worft of Tyrants, and 
 defend the good and reafonable Man, 
 within him, from the hafty Influence of 
 the Madman. 
 
 But to do Evil, that Good may come of 
 it, nothing can ever make allowable. The 
 Moment we deviate from Truth and In- 
 tegrity, our very bed Intentions are all 
 poifoned and perverted. 
 
 To learn what we can, by an acute Ob- 
 fervation of the Countenances and Manners 
 of thofe -with whom we are concerned, is 
 certainly a very blamelefs Point of Wif- 
 dom'. To pry into their fecret Thoughts, 
 tminterefted, and only to betray them, is 
 the Bafenefs of hearkening at Doors, and 
 looking in at Windows. 
 
 The cunningly preventing Objections to 
 
 any Thing, we have a mind jliould fuc- 
 
 ceed, by unfairly withdrawing the Atten- 
 
 F 4 tion
 
 104 ESSAY XII. 
 tion of Perfons from it, can only be allow- 
 able, in Cafes of great Exigence, or in ab- 
 folute Trifles. Mere Humour is a Thing, 
 that we are at Liberty to controul and 
 guide, in what Way we pleafe : but when 
 the Cafe is of Importance, we are fcarcely 
 fit Judges, if it touches ourfelves, whether 
 we are at Liberty to deceive another, to 
 what, we may think, ever fo good an End. 
 If it is a Perfon, over whom we have any 
 Authority, the Cafe is fomewhat clearer. 
 Madnefs and Folly we have a Right to 
 govern, founded in the utter Incapacity 
 of thofe, who are thus governed : and the 
 Point is indifputable, that Children may 
 be cheated into Health, with a fugared 
 Potion , and that to fteal away the Sword 
 of a diftrafted Perfon, or humour his 
 Frenzy, till we have fecured him, is EQ 
 Theft nor Deceit. 
 
 But to furprife any Perfon's Reafon is 
 utterly unjuftifiable : and be the End we 
 propofe ever fo good, the Means is moil 
 deteUble. If People will not make a right 
 
 Ufe
 
 ESSAY XII. 105 
 Ufe of Leifure and Reflection, their Fault 
 is great: but if we do not allow them 
 both, ours is much greater. 
 
 All Hypocrify is hateful and defpicable : 
 but there certainly are infinite Cafes, where 
 others have no Right to know our private 
 Thoughts and Refolutions. Referve is 
 always allowable. Where we go a Step 
 farther, it is accompanied with a Kind o? 
 Shame that is fufficient to inftrucl: us. Yet 
 fometimes,. to be fure, we may put on an- 
 Appearance of fomething better than we 
 are, as mowing a Difdain of our prefent 
 Imperfections, and provided we put this 
 on, with a real Intention and Aim of rifing 
 to the Mark we have fet. But any Ap- 
 pearance contrary to what we are in our 
 Hearts and Wifhes, is vile. 
 
 Once again : People's Humours we may, 
 nay ought to foothe and wind, and govern, 
 as we bed can : for Humour is the Child- 
 ilhnefs of the Mind : Reafon its Maturity, 
 and Children ought to fubmit to the Di- 
 F 5 reft ion;
 
 ESSAY XII. 
 region of grown Perfons. Thefe are the 
 little Arts that humanize Society, and give 
 it a pleafing and a gentle Air. But to- 
 work upon People's WeakneiTes, to take 
 Advantage of their Simplicity, to fide with 
 their Paflions, for our own Purpofes this 
 is that monf\rous Policy, which is the Wif- 
 dom of this World, and the Foolimnefs 
 of a better. 
 
 To introduce any perplexing Subject in 
 the eafieft Manner, provided our Intention 
 be a good one, is but ufing fit Means to a 
 laudable End. But let all have a Care 
 how they grow too fond of their own In- 
 genuity and Dexterity, in managing even 
 laudable Undertakings : the Step is too 
 eafy to a low Sort of Cunning, that is as 
 far from the true Sublime of Virtue, as 
 any Species of falfe Wit is from the true 
 Sublime in Writing. 
 
 Mod Comedies are very pernicious in 
 this Way. They turn upon a thoufand 
 little Stratagems and Intrigue?, that even 
 
 when
 
 P.. S S A Y XII. 107 
 when they are innocent tend ftrangely to 
 corrupt the amiable Simplicity of an honcft 
 Mind. 
 
 True Tafle in every Thing is Plainnefs 
 and Simplicity, the lead Deviation from 
 Nature that is poflible ; for that is very 
 confident with the higheft Improvement 
 cf it. Buildings, Gardens, Statues, Pic- 
 tures, Writings of all Sorts come within 
 this Rule, and it holds full as (longly in 
 Character and Behaviour. It is the Saying 
 of a very excellent Author, that the true 
 Art of Converfation, if any Body ca,n hit 
 it, feems to be this, an appearing Freedom 
 and Opennefs, with a refolute Refervednefs 
 as little appearing as is poflible. I Hum- 
 bled at it at firft: but upon Confideration 
 I mud fuppofe him, and from what goes 
 before it feems mod probable, to mean by 
 Refervednefs, a drift Watch over ourfelves, 
 nor to be led into faying any Thing im- 
 proper, or that can be of the lead Harm to 
 others, an4 this may mod allowably be 
 tempered with fuch a winning Carriage, 
 F 6 and
 
 io& ESSAY XII. 
 
 and fo eafy a good Humour, as (hall take 
 off from the Height of Virtue and Dif- 
 cretion all Appearance of Stiffnefs and 
 Morofenefs. 
 
 To infinuate Inftru&ions in a pleafmg 
 Way, to introduce ufeful Subjects by un- 
 affected Tranfitions, and to adorn Truth 
 with a Mixture of pleafmg Fictions, is the 
 higheft Merit of Conversation, and has 
 nothing to do with Cunning. To watch 
 for a favourable Opportunity of doing 
 People good, or reclaiming them from 
 
 fome Error who ever complained o 
 
 being fo over- reached? 
 
 ESSAY
 
 I0 9 J 
 
 ESSAY XIII. 
 
 I Do not know whether it is a pragmati- 
 cal Difpofuion, or whether it is the 
 Effect of a happy Inclination to hope, in: 
 fpite of all Difcou rage men ts ; but for my 
 Part, I cannot abide to hear People in a 
 defponding Way, give up. every Attempt. 
 in which they cannot thoroughly fucceed. 
 It is, generally too, the bed and wifefl 
 Sort of People, and who would therefore 
 be the moft likely to fucceed in fome De- 
 gree, that by carrying their Wifhes of Suc- 
 ceis too- far, and rinding it irnpoffible to 
 attain them, in their full Extent, lit down 
 in a ufelefs Defpair and moralize upon the 
 World : which, becaufe it is too bad to be 
 completely reformed by them, they dif- 
 dam to mend as far as they might. 
 
 Thus-
 
 ,io E S S, A Y XIII. 
 
 Thus the beft and moft ufeful Defigns 
 are the fooneft difcouraged, while thofe of 
 the Wicked and the Trifling are purfned 
 Day after Day : The one too vioknt to be 
 checked by any Confideration, that would 
 oppofe the ruling Pafiion : the others too 
 thoughtlefs to attend to any Difficulties, 
 are continually weaving one Web after ano- 
 ther out of their idle Imaginations, for- 
 getful of all that ha-ve been brufhed away, 
 and thinking themfelves well rewarded, if 
 they can catch a few worthlefs Flies, the 
 Vanities and Araufements of Life. 
 
 There is fomething quite grievous in 
 this to a Mind full of Spirit and Activity, 
 that thinks it glorious, at lead to ftruggle 
 in the Caufe of Virtue, though ever fa 
 fure to be overpowered. But this is by 
 no Means the Cafe : every Effort does 
 fomething, whether enough to be per- 
 ceived, at the Moment, or not, is very little 
 material : fmce in Time it will certainly 
 have its due Effect, and whether that be t 
 foon enough for our Pride to be flattered 
 by
 
 ESSAY XIII. in 
 
 by it, or not, is a Confideration, which 
 truly generous Minds fhould overlook. 
 They will, indeed, go on with lefs Alacri- 
 ty and Satisfaction ; but Eafe and Plea- 
 fure are, at beft, but the fecondary Ends 
 of our Being, in fuch a State of Trial as 
 this Life. If, therefore, we do but our 
 Duty here, we may truft our Reward to 
 Futurity : and we fhould never urge the 
 Difficulties we meet with, as any Objection 
 to the main Bufinefs of our Life, which 
 would by no Means be free from Uneafi- 
 nefs, even fiiould we neglect our Duty. 
 
 But, after all, what are thefe fo terrible 
 Difficulties of which People fo heavily 
 complain ? Ours is not, with all its Faults, 
 an Age* or Country of Perfecution or Ty- 
 ranny : People's Lives and Fortunes are 
 fecurej their Virtues involve them in no 
 Danger, and though very poffibly they 
 may hinder them from rifing in the World, 
 yet though ever fo openly and ftrenuoufly 
 perfifted in, they can do them no great 
 Damage. The utmoft they can fuffer is 
 
 a little
 
 irz ESSAY Xlir.- 
 
 a little Contradiction, a little Chagrin, the 
 Vexation of feeing many good Endeavours 
 turn out to but little good Purpofe, the 
 Uneafinefs of living amongft a Mixture of 
 People little fuited to their better Turn of 
 Mind, and to whom they cannot do fo 
 much Good, as they would. But is this a 
 Reafon why they fhould chufe to do none 
 at all ? Will the World be the better for 
 all the good People, that are in it, running 
 to hide themfelves in Deferts and Soli- 
 tudes ? If it is not, what then is this fud- 
 den Retirement, but an idle and felfifh- 
 Purfuit of their own indolent Inclinations ? 
 Does the induftrious Planter forbear his 
 Toil, becaufe he expects not to enjoy the 
 Shade of thofe fiourifhing Oaks, that will 
 fpring from his Acorns ? Is he difcouraged 
 by the Fear, or Frequency of Blights ? 
 Does he at once declare, that all the young 
 Trees are degenerate, and no good to be 
 hoped from them ? The worfe the World 
 is, the more Need it has of good People's 
 trying to mend it : and fhould they be 
 ev,e.r fo unfuccefsful, in Regard to them- 
 felves.
 
 ESSAY XIII. 115 
 
 fclves, at lead, they have not loft their 
 Pains. Meanly indeed do they betray the 
 Caufe of Virtue, if they, its only Friends, 
 fuffer themfelves to be overcome by fo 
 weak Enemies as Spleen and Indolence. 
 Of all People they have the leaft Caufe to 
 defpond : They, who purfue the nobleft 
 End, by the faired Means, they who are 
 fure of being in the Right, they who are 
 fure to have the beft Applaufe for it, they 
 who can doubt of nothing, but that their pre- 
 ient Fancy may not be gratified in feeing 
 an imoiediate Succefs of their Endeavours; 
 and this they need not doubt about nei- 
 ther, fmce they ought not to think of it at 
 
 If fometimes fuch a glorious Inflance of 
 Succefs appears, this ought no more to 
 miflead their Hopes, than the Notion of a 
 magical Wand, that raifes Palaces and 
 Gardens in an Inftant, ftiould make Peo- 
 ple difdain to cultivate their Country, by 
 the flow and vulgar Methods of Planting 
 and Building. Inconveniencies that can- 
 
 not
 
 ii4 ESSAY XIIT. 
 not be removed may be palliated at leaft. 
 The firft who formed Habitations to de- 
 fend them from the Cold, were certainly 
 much wifer than if they had fat down and 
 piteoufly lamented thofe Inclemencies of 
 the Weather, which none of their Com- 
 plaints could alter, but againft which their 
 Induftry could eafily fecure them. 
 
 From this reftlefc Activity In the Mind 
 of Man, this bufy Hope fcr everf fpring- 
 ing up in his Heart, this Notion of better- 
 ing every Situation, and never reftifig con- 
 tented while he can afpire to any Thing 
 further, all thofe Improvements, which 
 form half the Enjoyment of civil Life, 
 have arifen. But with them many Errors 
 have fhot forward too : and if the more 
 deVfcate Flowers of Virtue fhould be left 
 to ficken and decay in their offenfive 
 Shade, the World will foon be over-run 
 with the moft noxious Weeds. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 ESSAY XIV. 
 
 AMONG thofe Studies, which are 
 ufually recommended to young Peo- 
 ple, there are few that might be improved 
 to better Ufes than Geography. I mean 
 by this, indeed, not a bare Acquaintance 
 with the Outlines of a Map, but feme ge- 
 neral Knowledge of the People who inha- 
 bit this our Globe : not their Situation 
 only, but their Hiftory and Manners. It 
 may perhaps be objected, that the Title, 
 which I have given to this Study, belongs 
 to a Subject much more bounded, than 
 the Definition, which I have fince been 
 making of it ; but I think it may very well 
 include a general Knowledge of Hiftory, 
 as extended to all Parts of the habitable 
 Globe, though a more particular Applica- 
 tion to the Hiftories of thofb few People, 
 
 who
 
 ii6 ESSAY XIV. 
 
 who have made themfelves very remark- 
 able on it, may belong to a different 
 Science. 
 
 It is not only the Error of the Peafant 
 Boy, who imagines there is no habitable 
 Land, beyond thofe Mountains, that in- 
 clole his native Valley, but of many mo-re, 
 that we have to guard againll, and of much 
 more important Tendency. How the Idea 
 of Greatnefs and Superiority vanifh in a 
 Moment, at the unrolling a large Map of 
 the World, where we fee England itfelf* 
 make fo> inconfiderable a Figure ! Let our 
 Thoughts be never fo ftrongly attached to 
 any particular Place, in this inconfiderable 
 Spot, it muft give us a Moment's Reflection, 
 upon the Infignificance of all thofe Cares, 
 that center in fo imperceptible a Point I 
 Innumerable Interruptions indeed, trifling 
 and vexatious, will often happen to call 
 down our moft exalted Thoughts, but for 
 that very Reafon, we have the more Need 
 of returning to them often : and not only 
 taking a tranfient View of them in our 
 
 Minds.
 
 ESSAY XIV. 117 
 
 Minds, as of Shadows pafling before a 
 Looking-Glafs , but trying to fix them 
 there, by reducing them to fomething fo- 
 lid, and every Time drawing fome prafti- 
 cal Precept from them, that may remain 
 in our Hearts, to whatever Trifles Imagi- 
 nation is hurried away, by the various 
 Avocations of Life. 
 
 Confidered as a Part of Space, the Spot, 
 each of us takes up, is indeed very infig- 
 nificant : but nothing is fo as relating to 
 the internal Syftem of the Univerfe : and 
 therefore properly to fill the Station, there 
 afiigned us, deferves an equal Degree of 
 Care in Perlbns of every Rank, and is not 
 to be meafured by the Acres they poffefs. 
 
 This Sort of Confederation reftores a 
 higher Value to the elevated Circumftances 
 of Life, than the former has robbed them 
 of, in the low Notion of intrinfic Value. 
 This fhould teach the Mifer, to efteem his 
 Riches, rather by the Treafure fpent, than 
 by his fecret Hoard : It Ihould teach every 
 
 Body,
 
 iiS ESSAY XIV. 
 Body, in general, from the Day-Labourer 
 to the King, by every poffible Means to 
 raife themlelves, in the moral World, to a 
 Degree of Confideration, that their Place 
 in the natural World can never attain. 
 
 Could we, (it is a ftrange wild Fancy) 
 imagine to ourfelves a Map delineated of 
 this, as wdl as of the other, we mould 
 fee then, that thofe vaft Continents which 
 overfpread the one, would be reduced, 
 upon the other, to moderate Bounds : 
 while the fmalleft civilized Tracks of Land 
 became extenfive Empires, in Proportion 
 to the Improvements they have made, in 
 religious Virtue and Knowledge. This, 
 after all, is the Map of real Confequence, 
 and which will remain with indelible 
 Strokes, long after the other, when all that 
 it relates to, is reduced to nothing. 
 
 Can any one imagine Riches the Soul of 
 
 Life and Source of Joy ? Let him but 
 
 confider thoie vaft Tracks of Land, where 
 
 the Boibm of the Earth is filled with glo- 
 
 4 rions
 
 ESSAY XIV. 119 
 
 rious Gems, and glows with unnumbered 
 Mines of Gold. Let him confider thefe 
 Countries, barbarous and wretched, igno- 
 rant of almofl every ufeful Art and fpecu- 
 lative Science j untaught both in the Ele- 
 gance and Ufe of Life : then let him fee in 
 fome Character of civilized Generofity, at 
 Home, what it is, that gives all the Glofs 
 to Fortune, and whence alone Riches derive 
 their Luflre. 
 
 Is Fewer the Idol of the Soul ? Caft 
 your Eyes on the Monarchs of Mogul, or 
 Emperors of China. See how infinitely 
 their Grandeur, in Immenfity of Wealth, 
 in Extent of Dominion, in the Adoration 
 of their Subjects, exceeds whatever Great- 
 nefs we are dazzled with, in thofe minute 
 Inftances, that come within our Sphere of 
 perfonal Knowledge. Then confider this 
 Greatnefs in itfelf ; diverted of all higher 
 Confiderations, what is it, but a wonder- 
 ous Tale, to aftonilh Foreigners : the fhin- 
 ing Subject of a Book of Voyages per- 
 haps, that will be thrown afide, by the" 
 
 firft
 
 120 ESSAY X\V. 
 firft incredulous Perfon, as a Lye, and read 
 by the Serious and the Thoughtful, with 
 fuch Reflections, as the Pride of the Mo- 
 narch would little approve. It muft be 
 confidered too as fubject to hourly Revo- 
 lutions : befides, that all the State of an 
 Eaftern Monarch fs incapable of affording 
 the leaft Relifh, to one, who has been ufed 
 to the Refinements of Life, in more hu- 
 manized Nations. 
 
 The higheft Gratitude muft furely be 
 raifed in us, by fuch Comparifons as thefe, 
 when we reflect, that thofe moral and civil 
 Improvements, which feem to let our little 
 Corner of the Globe, fo far above the reit, 
 that, like that Mountain, which the Sia- 
 mefe imagine to ftand on thole Gems, in 
 the Midft of the Earth, the Sun and Moon, 
 feem to have their Revolutions only round 
 that, cheering and enlightening it with 
 their warmed Beams. 
 
 Such an extenfive View of human Kind, 
 as this, leads like wife to a general Be- 
 nevolence,
 
 fi S $ A Y 
 
 hevolence, dilates and enlarges the Heart, 
 as well as the Imagination. Where we 
 behold a cultivated Spot of Land, the Eye 
 dwellsonitwithPleafure: And when we fee 
 nothing but wild and barren Deferts around 
 \js, we wifli, that they could be improved 
 into the fame fmiling Scene. We learn t6 
 look on the Savage Indianj as our Fellow- 
 Creature, who has a Mind as capable of 
 every exalted Satisfaction 1 , as our's : and 
 therefore we pity him for the Want of 
 thofe Enjoyments^ x>n which we pride our- 
 felves. From compafiionate Thought!! 
 kind Actions naturally flow : our Endea- 
 vours will, in fome Degree, follow our 
 With, wherever it is fincere': and would 
 \ve all join our Endeavours to do all the 
 Good \ve are able, this Earth would foon 
 become a Subject of foch delightful Con- 
 templation, as fhould make ns reflec^, with 
 infinite Delight, upon the Study, that had 
 firft led us into fo ufeful a Train of 
 Thoughts. 
 
 Vot. I. G ESSAV
 
 [,122- ] 
 
 ESSAY XV. 
 
 IT is very ftrange, and not lefs grievous, 
 that-almoft all People fhould have fuch 
 an Inequality in their Conduct, as in ten 
 thoufand unheeded Instances, daily to con- 
 tradict thofe fundamental Principles of Du- 
 ty, and Reafon, which, in Matters of more 
 acknowledged Importance, they juftly 
 make it their Glory to aft up to. 
 
 The Perfon who goes contrary to thofe 
 Principles, upon deliberate Reflection, we 
 all fhun and deteft : and is mere HeedlefT- 
 nefs fo great a Virtue, as to atone for our 
 behaving, in the fame faulty Way, becaufe 
 we do it, without making fo deep Reflec- 
 tion, as we ought ? 
 
 A
 
 ESSAY XV, 123, 
 A few Inftances may explain what I 
 mean, and I believe, there are few Perfons, 
 who will not find fomethin'g of the fame 
 Sort, at home, within themfelves. 
 
 Good Nature is a Quality, that People 
 are as fond of pofiefiing as any. Does it 
 ever hold, throughout ? That Pain, which 
 we mould abhor to inflict on the Body of 
 a Friend, or a Dependent, do we never 
 fuffer our Caprice or Humour to inflict ic 
 on their Mind, an infinitely tenderer Part ? 
 r-That Refcntment and DiQike, which we 
 are ftrongly upon our Guard againft feel- 
 ing, in Return for real Injuries, and mould 
 juftly reckon ourfelves very bad Chriftiahs 
 if we did othervvife, do we never make, 
 them the Punifhment of trivial Offences, 
 and flight Difagreeablenefies, in thofe to 
 whom, perhaps, we have folid Obligations ? 
 At the fame Time that we mould defire, 
 in Cafes of Importance, to do x all our Fel- 
 low-Creatures all poffible Good, do we fe- 
 rioufly enough confider that the repeating 
 an idle Story, or fpreading upon flight 
 G 2 Grounds,
 
 fi S S A Y 
 
 Grounds, a difagreeable Report, is acting 
 fnoft directly contrary to thofe laudable 
 Defires ? We can aftually do Good but to 
 few : but we ought to wifh it as fincerely 
 and as warmly to allj as if they were truly 
 within the fmall Circle of our own In- 
 fluence : and confequemly, a Mind, that 
 is as good as it fliould be, will feel itfelf 
 heartily interefted in every Intereft of our 
 Fellow-Creatures. Should we then Men 
 with Complacency^ or even with carelefs 
 Ears, to the Story of iuch Faults, Frailities 
 and Follies, as are real Misfortunes tb 
 them ? 
 
 Patience and' Refigriation are what, in 
 the fevered Trials, we fliould earneilly 
 tvilh to be diftinguidied for. Do we prac- 
 tife them on trifling Occafions ? Let every 
 one of us be afked Can you bear to be 
 put out of your own Way, to accommodate 
 your Humour to the Varieties of human 
 Life, and however your Day is turned and 
 interrupted, cheerfully make the beft of it ? 
 Can you improve little Inconveniencies 
 
 into
 
 ESSAY XV. 
 
 into fomething tolerable and even ufcful ? 
 Jt may generally be done if People vvouUi 
 but let their Minds to it. 
 
 You are convinced, perhaps, 
 cheerful, grateful Difpofition is that, which 
 above all others, ought to be cultivated by 
 Creatures formed for immortal Happinefs, 
 guided in their Way to it, by the molt 
 gracious Providence, and continually un- 
 der the Eye, and Care of the mod excel- 
 lent and amiable of Beings. But do you 
 always ac~r, and think, and fpeak con- 
 fidently with this Perfuafion ? Is none 
 your Breath wafted in vain Sighs? Do ycvi 
 never voluntarily indulge the Overflowings 
 of a fruitlefs Sorrow ? Do you never, by 
 giving Way to a momentary Difguft, Re- 
 (entment or Pecvifhnefs, rob yourfelf of 
 that higheft Delight, which flows from per- 
 fect Kindnefs and good Humour? Do you 
 never encourage difagreeable Thoughts 
 
 c> o o 
 
 and jarring Paffions to diforder the Har- 
 mony of your Soul, and make you taftelefs 
 to all the Joys of Life, and to all the 
 G 3 Charms
 
 126 ESSAY XV. 
 
 Charms of beautiful Nature ? Do you 
 never nourifh a fond and blameable Anx- 
 iety never heap Times and Circumftances 
 4>f Trouble and Sorrow in your Mind, till 
 the Load grows too heavy for Imagination 
 to bear? Do you never pleafe yourfelf 
 with heightening the Paintings of your 
 Diftrefs ? Do you often recolleft all the 
 happy and delightful Circumftances of 
 your Situation ? No State is without very 
 many, and thofe very important. 
 
 Again : yon are generous, it may be, 
 free and open-hearted : your Difpofitions 
 are all noble and liberal : your Bounty 
 would be inexhauffcible if your Eftate was 
 fo : you would do Good to all the World : 
 no Eye fhould lee you, that could not 
 " bearWitnefs" to your Kindnefs. But 
 in the free Indulgence of this amiable 
 
 G 
 
 Temper, how poffible is ir, that yon may 
 injure thofe whom you are the moft bound 
 to help ? If proper Regard to the Limits 
 of your Power be not obferved, this Dig- 
 nity and Generofity muft be fupported bv 
 
 the
 
 ESSAY XV. 1-7 
 
 the cruelcft Injuftice, and the mod wretch- 
 ed Condefcenfions. To what Straits, what 
 Meanneffes are thofe often reduced, whom 
 Fortune had once placed in a high Rank ! 
 From what proceeds this, but from Ine- 
 quality of Conduct ! 
 
 The elegant Beauty, whofe fondeil Aim 
 is to pleafe and to be admired, has fome- 
 times fmall Regard to that complete Har- 
 mony of Manner and Behaviour, which 
 perfects the Charm. Indeed we are, all of 
 us, fo fhort-fightcd, that to take in a whole 
 View at once, is impofiible. Yet thefe 
 Views of Life we ought furely to chufe 
 and ftudy, with at leaft as much Tafte and 
 Attention, as a Landfcape Painter does 
 Profpects. The molt confiderable Objects 
 ihould take up the chief Place, and be 
 finifhed with the higheft Art. The reft 
 ihould be thrown off, in due Proportion, 
 and leflfening by imperceptible Degrees. 
 But what a Picture would he make, were 
 the diftanc Hills to be painted of a vivid 
 green, and the neareft Objects foftened 
 G 4 into
 
 128 ESSAY XV. 
 into a purpiifh blue : here, every Flower 
 touched up with exquifite Art} and thefe 
 Objects as near, and more confiderable, 
 
 Sketched only with rude Out-lines ? 
 
 Jnconfiftent throughout, we are ferioufly 
 offended at the Difproportion of any 
 "Work of Art, and utterly infenfible of it 
 in a thoufand In (lances, where, to the Eye 
 of R^afon, it is infinitely more monftrous, 
 
 ESSAY
 
 I2 9 
 
 ESSAY XVI, 
 
 ON E great Reafon why People fuc- 
 ceed fo little in the Art of pleafing, 
 while they feem wholly pofleft by the Am- 
 bition of fhinin, is their not obkmns' 
 
 D' O 
 
 proper Rules of Place -and Time. They 
 Ihine, indeed, in their own Eyes extremely : 
 but they do not fuit their Manners to the 
 Tafte of thole, with whom they converter 
 Whatever is their favourite and fuperior 
 Accomplimment, they are apt to imagine 
 a fufHcient Recommendation, wherever thev 
 go: when probably there area thoutand 
 Ids ftriking, which properly placed, \vcukl 
 make them appear, with infinitely more 
 Advantages. Nor is even the favourite 
 Accomplifhment by this Means loft ; for 
 when once you have condefcended to win 
 People's Efteem, in their own Way, they 
 G 5,
 
 130 E S S A Y XVI. 
 
 are willing enough to fee every additional 
 Grace in your Character, and dwell upon 
 it with Plea ure.. 
 
 To inflance only in the Character of the 
 fine Lady. Struck with thePraife of Beauty, 
 and confcious of fuch a fuperior Claim to 
 Admiration, the abfolute fine Lady will 
 be fuch through every Scene of Life, and 
 in every Variety of Circumftances. But 
 after ail, what Good is it to the indufrrious 
 Tradefman, that, after many a Morning's 
 Attendance, he can fee her Ladyfhip with 
 a Pair of fine Eyes ? It is not Beauty, Wit, 
 or Learning, that pafs for current Coin, 
 in our Dealings with People who live by 
 their Bufinefs. Punctuality and Exactnefs, 
 with a ft rift Care to fave them as much, 
 Time and Labour as we pofiibly can, is the 
 leaft we owe them, for the Pains they vo- 
 luntarily take to furnifh us with every Con- 
 venience of Life. 
 
 This is meant for a rambling Sort of 
 Effay : and now I have named Punctuality,
 
 E S S A'.Y- XVI. j- 3 r 
 1 cannot help digrefling, to praife it. 
 There is nothing that makes us more wel- 
 come Members of Society. Exactnefsj 
 even in Trifles, amounts in a long Life* 
 to a confiderable Sum of Merit. People 
 know how to depend upon us, and are 
 fure, we fhall never give them the leaft 
 Uneafinefs or Difappointment if we can 
 poflibly help it. This makes them the 
 more eafily bear with us, on Occafions 
 more important, where Interefts will feme- 
 times very innocently interfere : and it is a 
 Piece of true Policy never to forfeit that 
 Credit, in fmall Things, which we may 
 poflibly want, in great ones. There are 
 numberlefs little Arts of ingratiating our- 
 felves, with our Fellow-Creatures, which 
 are equally confident with Sincerity and 
 Prudence ; nor was ever any Thing more 
 wife and humane than the Apoille's Pre- 
 cept of " becoming all- Things to all 
 * Men." Little Difobligarions will be 
 perpetually occurring, if we allow our- 
 ielves any Liberty, in Point of Exa&neir - r 
 the even Tenor of our Conduct is brqken, 
 G 6 and
 
 E S S ,A Y XVI. 
 and People begin to think themfelves in* 
 debted more to Chance than to us, for 
 any Civility or Kindnefs we may fhow 
 them. 
 
 There is a Kind of matter- witted amiable 
 Character, which gains no Confidence, and 
 Ipfes all Refpecl:. I think I never faw any 
 particular Defcription of it, and it may not 
 be amifs to draw one here. It is a carelete, 
 gay, good humoured Creature, as full of 
 Livelinefs and Entertainment, as void of 
 Caution and Difcretion, living on from 
 Moment to Moment, without meaning 
 any Harm, or ever taking thorough Pains ta 
 do Good. In fuch Perfons, fifty good 
 Qualities are loft, in the mere Hurry, of 
 Inconfideradon. Every Thing goes on at 
 Random : every Thing is unequal and 
 edd x and yet. tvery Body loves them. 
 Their Affairs for the moft Part run to, 
 Kuia without any Extravagance : nay by 
 Starts, they will be the bell Managers, 
 an the ftricteft Qeconoraifb in the World 3 
 
 but
 
 ESSAY XVI. 
 but alas this is all the while, only Whimfy 
 mafquerading in the Drefs of a Houfewife. 
 
 They who come under this Defcription^ 
 whatever their Principles may be, are 
 guided in all the common Affairs of Life? 
 by mere Humour and Frolick. They 
 run, with the prettieft HarmlefThefs in the 
 World, into Acts of Injuftice, that make 
 all around them fufFer feverely, while they 
 themfelves are perfectly infenfible whence 
 the Miichief comes, becaufe they are con- 
 fcious to their own Hearts of having the 
 beft Defigns and Sentiments imaginable. 
 By all I could ever learn, the great and 
 amiable Sir R. S. was one of thefe whim- 
 fttal, unhappy Mortals. With a Genius 
 and a Heart, that few have ever equalled, 
 he had this Defect in Conduct, to fuch a 
 Degree as made him, in every Refpect, but 
 that of an. Author, as hurtful- a Member 
 of Society as well could be. Wit like his 
 turned, his very DiftreiTes into Entertain- 
 ment, and it is hard to fay, whether he 
 railed in his Acquaintance, more Love, 
 & Di<
 
 E S S A Y XVI. 
 
 Diverfion, or Companion. But what 'Pity 
 it is, that fuch a Mind fhould have had 
 any BlemiCb at all ! 
 
 My Difpofition has led me a great Way: 
 but when a favourite Subject is fairly 
 thrown before one, who can refift it ? Not 
 Gravity and Decorum itfelf. I remember 
 a Story of a good old Lady, who ufed pretty 
 equally to divide her Time, between the 
 Church and the Quadrille-Table. A young 
 Man of fome Humour, and of more Smart- 
 nefs than Difcretion, had laid a Wager, 
 that he would make her talk over her Cards 
 in Prayer Time. He contrived, the next 
 Day to kneel down by her ; and when the 
 Litany began, whiipered in a low Voice 
 1 had the terribleft Luck laft Night ! No 
 Mortal was ever fo unfortunate. Hum : 
 be quiet Sir, pray have done. Madarr^ 
 you mail but hear me. Pray Sir, fie, by 
 no Means, pray be gone, for Goodnels 
 fake. I had four Matadores : and fo on 
 he went telling his Hand, and the whole 
 Procefs of the Game : while fhe, poor 
 
 Woman,.
 
 ESSAY XVI. 135 
 
 Woman, was very ferioufly angry, and, 
 as fhe thought, perfectly inattentive to 
 him. He goes on however. A Club was 
 led, I put on a fmall Trump. Human 
 Patience could endure no longer. Pooh, 
 fays the good Lady, you fhould have 
 played your Ponto, 
 
 ESS A,T
 
 
 ESSAY XVIL 
 
 TH E Stedfaftnefs of a Rock, the Im- 
 moveablenefs of a Center, the Firm- 
 nefs of a deep Foundation, a Pillar of 
 Adamant, an everlafting Anchor, fuch to 
 the fluctuating Mind of Man is a well- 
 grounded Confidence. Without it, all his 
 Thoughts are lighter than the Leaves in 
 Autumn, the Sport of every momentary 
 Hurricane, His Opinions are changeable 
 oy every varying Circumftance : every 
 IVIote in a Sun Beam fuggefts fome new 
 Fancy : he hopes and fears, diflikes and 
 loves, doubts To-day, trufts To-morrow, 
 accuies himfelf of Credulity the next, then 
 again grows inadvertent, and never lets his 
 bufy difquieted Imagination reft. His 
 Reafon, one Hour, convinced by weighty 
 Arguments, has no Imprefiion left of them, 
 
 another :
 
 ESSAY XVIJ. 
 
 another : but, fufpecting Judgment to be 
 in Fault, when only Memory is blameable, 
 frankly gives itfelf up to the next con- 
 trary Syftem, and lo on ad Infinitum. 
 
 In the Intercourse of Life, this fatal 
 Diffidence infenfibly alienates the deareft 
 Friends, breaks the kind Bonds of mutual 
 Truft, or difTolves them, by fcarce percep- 
 tible Insinuations. It particularly opprefles 
 weak Spirits: and challenges all the Knight- 
 Errantry of Reafon, to free them from the 
 Power of this wicked Enchanter. It is 
 indeed in his inforcelated Palace, that, like 
 the People in Ariofto, Friends and Lovers, 
 deceived by falfe Appearances of one ano- 
 ther, are perpetually wearied in a vain 
 Purfuit, and groan under a thoufand ima- 
 gined Slights and Injuries, of which all are 
 equally guiltlefs ; and never gain an Ex- 
 planation to redify the miferable Error. 
 A Hero, who lately, perhaps, appeared 
 crowned with Laurels, is now, on the fud- 
 den, transformed into a Monfter. Credu- 
 lous
 
 138 E S S A Y XVIf. 
 lous Minds [ that do not know that the 
 Laurel of fome Virtues, is fo abfolute a 
 "Security againft all grofTer Palings, that 
 their Eyes mud deceive them whenever 
 they rcprefent fuch a Metamorphofis. 
 
 But Judgments are ufually formed, more 
 from particular Inftances, tlian from gene- 
 ral Rules : and hence it is, that they are fb 
 contradictory. Every frefh glaring Ap- 
 pearance is believed, againft the molt ab- 
 iblute Evidence, that paft Experience can 
 furnifh : and by mere following our Nofes, 
 we mifs the great Land-marks, that fhould 
 direct our Journey. 
 
 But to grow more methodical : This 
 Paper is of too mixed a Nature, to allow 
 the dwelling ferioully on that religious 
 Confidence, which is the Ground of all the 
 reft, and of every afuired Satisfaction in 
 Life, or Support at the Clofe of it. This 
 is the inexhauftible, eternal Source of 
 Cheerfulnels, Patience and Courage : of 
 
 thaL
 
 ESSAY XVII. 139 
 that true undaunted Fortitude, that in- 
 fpires the real Hero, 
 
 Who f>j7;s no Omen, but kis Country's Caufe* 
 
 Diftruft and Danger vanifh at its Radiance : 
 Conftancy and indefatigable Perfeverance 
 crown it with the nobleft Succefs, and with 
 immortal Honour. Even the Weaknefs 
 of conftitutional Cowardice may be reliev- 
 ed by it, from a thoufand anxious Fears : 
 and raifed, upon any extraordinary Oc- 
 cafion, into an abiblute Difregard of all 
 thofe unreal Evils, which fo fwell the fick- 
 Jy Lift of Apprehenfion. 
 
 In Friendfhip, a mutual Confidence is 
 of fo abiblute Neceflity, that it is fcarcely 
 poffible it fhould fubfift, for any Time, 
 without it. When once upon Reafon, 
 and Experience, we have given Perfons ?.n 
 allowed Title to our Efteem, it is the 
 higheft Injury both to them, and to our- 
 felves, to remove it upon lefs than an en- 
 tire Certainty : and there-are fome Degrees 
 
 of
 
 J 4 o E- S S A Y XVIL 
 
 X)f Efteem, that ought to outweigh th 
 very ftrongeft Appearances. In fuch Cafes 
 ikve fhould mifdoubt all Judgments of our 
 own, rather than fufpect the Fidelity of a 
 tried Friend : and never give it up till we 
 have allowed them the fulleft Opportu*- 
 nicy for vindicating themfelves, if Appear- 
 ances have injured them. By this Means, 
 nothing will remain perplexed or uneafy 
 upon the anxious Mind, but every Tiling 
 v.ill be fair, and clear, and honed. 
 
 When Truth is prefuppofed as the 
 Foundation, this Dependence follows of 
 Courie, even when the Circumilances do 
 
 not admit of a prefent Explanation. 
 
 " Appearances would give me Reafon to 
 
 ** be uneafy at your Behaviour, if Friend- 
 
 *' fhip did not forbid my fufpecting you." 
 
 " It is very true : and I cannot yet 
 
 * c explain thofe Appearances." What 
 
 a World of Trouble, and Diftruft, would 
 fuch mort Explanations avoid. 
 
 There are few Things, which have more 
 ftruck my Imagination, than the meek 
 
 Anfwer
 
 ESSAY XVH. i 4 t 
 
 AnlVer of Balaam's Afs, when his Matter* 
 unreasonably corrected him, for what had 
 only the Appearance of a Fault, and was^ 
 in Reality, the higheft Jnftance of Duty 
 and Care. In which, after having received 
 a very paffionate Return to a very gentle 
 Expostulation, fhe only replies, " Was' 
 *' I ever wont to do fo unto thee r'
 
 [ 14*.] 
 
 ESSAY XVIII. 
 
 H E only unfhaken Bafis of Friend- 
 (hip is Religion. True Frienfhip is 
 a Union of Interefts, Inclinations, Senti- 
 ments. Where thefe greatly clafh, there 
 may indeed, be outward Civility, but there 
 can be nothing more. What then becomes 
 of all thofe fair Ideas, and many fair Hif- 
 tories too, of generous Friendfhip facri- 
 ficing every Intereft of its own ? What 
 becomes of that worthieft Complaifance 
 that bends difagreeing Humours into per- 
 fect Sympathy ? What becomes of that 
 powerful Affection, that makes often fo 
 thorough a Change in the Sentiments and 
 Tempers of Perfons . ? AU thefe may con- 
 fid with a Maxim appearing fo contrary : 
 for few People look fo deep as the real 
 and folid Foundation of all, but take thofe 
 4 for
 
 .: S. S AY XVIII. 143 
 for important Intcrefts and efTential Points, 
 which indeed are but a temporary Super- 
 ftrufture, liable to perpetual Alterations. 
 
 Whoever to the Faith and Conftancy of 
 FriendfHip facrifices the Interests of For- 
 tune, or the Indulgence of Inclination, 
 purfues flill his true and effential Interefts : 
 fmce he is ftriclly performing an important 
 Duty. However the Opinion of the Good 
 may differ, in a thoufand Things, in this. 
 they agree, that there " is cne Thing 
 " needful," and that in all lefler Points, 
 Candour*, Complaifance, and good Nature, 
 are the Temper of Mind it requires. 
 
 Agreed in this, their Inclinations, their- 
 Pleafures, their Purfuits, in all that is im- 
 portant, muft be the fame. What Open- 
 nefs of Pleart, what Harmony of Senti- 
 ments, what Sweetnefs of mutual Conver- 
 fation muft be the Ccnfcquence. ', 
 
 Truth, perfectly clear, and undifguifed, 
 ConRancy unchangeable through ail the 
 
 Varieties
 
 ESSAY XVIIt. 
 
 Varieties of Humour and Circumftanceij 
 the kindeft Affection, arid the mod win- 
 ning Manners flow almoft naturally from 
 this Source of every good Difpofitiofl; 
 This infallible Rule is afure Guard againft 
 all thofe Errors and Extremes which the 
 beft Affections are liable to run into. It 
 makes particular Friendfhips keep within 
 fuch Bounds, as not to interfere with ge- 
 neral Charity and univerfal Juftice. It 
 teaches to diftinguifh between thofe Errors 
 and Frailties of human Nature, which in 
 true Friendfhip muft be abfolutely paft 
 over, and thofe contagious Faults which 
 neceffarily diflblve it. It heightens the 
 Delights of happy Friendfhip, while it 
 teaches us to look upon our Friends, as 
 Blefnngs indulged to us, by the All-Giver: 
 and it provides the only Balm, that can 
 heal the Wounds of Friendfhip cut fhorfc 
 by Death. It foftens every kind Anxiety* 
 we can feel for thofe we love, and muft 
 feel frequently in a World ib full of varied 
 Diftrefles -, by bidding us look up to the 
 almighty Friend and Father of all, " whb 
 
 11 eareth
 
 B* $ 5 A Y XVII!. 145 
 * careth for all alike," and truft in him, 
 to .give iherr that Affiftance and Relief, 
 of which we, poor helplefs Creatures, can 
 at beft be but very poor Instruments. To 
 Him we can pour out the afife&ionate Ful- 
 nefs of our Hearts, when overwhelmed 
 with a tender Concern for their Welfare: 
 and may reft allured, that he will guide 
 and profper our finrrere Endeavours for 
 their real Good-. 
 
 When the Heart has long been ufed to 
 the delightful Society of beloved Friends* 
 how dreadful is Abfence, and how irkfome^ 
 Solitude. But thefc Phantoms of Ab- 
 fence and Solitude vaniih before the Sun- 
 fliine of Religion. Every Change of Life, 
 every Variety of Place, allotted us by an 
 all-ruling Providence, grows welcome to 
 Us , and while we confider ourfelves and 
 our Friends, however diftant, as equally 
 under the Care and Protection of the fame 
 gracious and omniprefent Being, our 
 common Creator, Redeemer and Prefer- 
 ver, the Diftance between us, with all its 
 
 VOL, I. Hi Terrors,
 
 1 45 ESSAY XVIII. 
 Terrors, is annihilated : while Solitude and 
 Retirement give us but the Opportunity 
 for a wider Range of Thought on Sub- 
 jects, that ennoble Friendship itfelf. Then 
 may our Minds look forward, through an 
 endlcfs Succefiion of Ages, in which the 
 Spirits of juft Men made perfect, renewing 
 in a happier World the affectionate En* 
 gagements, juft begun, as it were, in the 
 Days of their Mortality, (hall rejoice in on 
 anothers continually improving Happineis 
 and Goodnefs, to all Eternity. BleiTed 
 Manfions, where we (hall meet again, all 
 thofe beloved Perfons whofe Remembrance 
 is fo dear to us ! Our Friendfhip lhall 
 then, probably, be extended through the 
 whole Society of the Bled. Every one 
 amiable, every one benevolent, how can 
 it be otherwife ? The excellent, of all 
 Agres and Nations, fhall then be numbered 
 
 C- 
 
 among our Friends. Angels themfelves 
 will not difdain to admit us to their Friend- 
 Ihip. Beyond all thefe Glories, we may 
 ftill raife our Thoughts to the fupreme 
 
 Friend
 
 ESSAY XVIII. 147 
 
 Friend and Father, till they are loft in the 
 dazzling, but delightful Contemplation;. 
 
 When fo fair a Superftructure rifes from 
 fo firm a Bafis, who but would build their 
 Friendfhip on this everlafting Rock ? But 
 alas the flight Connections of the trifling 
 World, are but like thofe wooden Build- 
 ings raifed fuddenly for pompous Feftivals, 
 adorned with every Elegance and Splen- 
 dor for a Day, and with all the Mimickry 
 of marble Pillars, and the moil folid Archi- 
 tecture. The leaft Accident deflroys them 
 at once : and a very fliort Time, of Courfe, 
 fees the Spot, where they were creeled, 
 forlorn and bare. 
 
 I* a ESSAt
 
 t '48 ] 
 
 ESSAY XIX. 
 
 It)o not ttiuch love the Tribe of dream- 
 ing Writers. There is fomething very 
 Unnatural in fuppofing fuch Products of 
 Underftanding, fuch a regular Series of 
 Ideas, generally abftrufe and allegorical 
 enough to put the Comprehenfion of a 
 waking Read? r upon the Stretch, to be the 
 Effects of wild Imagination, at thofe Hours 
 when fhe is moil unafiifted by Reafon and 
 Tvlemory. Yet it is pity a lively Fancy 
 fhould be balkedj and confined to the dull 
 Road of Efiay-writing, merely to avoid 
 fuch a trifling Abfurciity in the Phrafe. 
 It might certainly be changed with great 
 Propriety into that of a Rei-erie^ which, by 
 People that indulge their Imaginations, is 
 often carried on a very confiderable Time, 
 with as gay a Variety of Circumftances, 
 
 and
 
 ESSAY XIX. 149 
 
 and as lively Colouring, as the Poppy-dipt 
 Pencil of Morpheus could ever produce. 
 Be it allowed me then to fay, that one Af- 
 ternoon this Summer, I fell into a deep 
 Reverie, lulled by the Vv'hifpering of 
 Groves, the foft Defccnt of a refreihing 
 Shower, and the mufical Repetitions of a 
 Thrufh. The Air around me was per- 
 fumed with JelTamins and Woodbind?, 
 and I found myfelf perfectly in a poetical 
 Situation. The Volume I had in my 
 Hand fhould of right, to be fure, have 
 been Ovid or Petrarch, but it was Sund.iv, 
 and the genteel Reader mull excufe me it 
 i own that it contained the Book of EC- 
 clefiaftes. 
 
 The foothing Scene about me had at 
 length fufpended my Reading , but my 
 Thoughts were ftill filled with many beau- 
 tiful Images of the Norhingnefs and Va- 
 nity of Human Life. There is fomething 
 fo bounded, and fo madowy in our Ex- 
 iftence, that the celeftial Beam of Under-^ 
 ftanding which fhows us what it is, muft 
 H 3 give
 
 ESSAY XIX. 
 
 give us almoft a Difguft of Life itfelf, 
 \vere not our Affections attached to it by 
 fo many tender Ties, as call back our proud 
 Thoughts every Moment. Mod miferable 
 State, continued I, in a melancholy Soli- 
 loquy, what WretchednefTes are we con- 
 verfant in, to what mean Objects are \ve 
 bound down, how little a Way can we fee 
 round us, how much lefs can we compre- 
 hend, through what a Wild of Errors lies 
 the narrow Path of Truth ! Narrow and 
 long ! Long ? Why then it is not me- 
 thinks fo ftrange, that one mould not ftep 
 to the End of it at once. Wtll, fuffice it 
 that our Progrefs be gradual. But what 
 a thick dark Hedge is here on either Side. 
 How much pleafanter would it be to break 
 through it, and view the fair Varieties of 
 the Univerfe as we pafs along. Suppofe 
 it quite away. In the Midft of this vafl 
 tracklefs Plain how will you now diftinguifh 
 your Path ? This Brink of a Precipice 
 that you are to pafs along, does not your 
 Head turn at it ? Do not you wifh again 
 for your fafe Boundary ? Well, but here 
 
 the
 
 ESSAY XIX. 151 
 
 the Path is fafe and open. Amufe your- 
 felf, look round you. I do not like my 
 own Path. Yonde-T is one much fairer, 
 pafiir.g over a much nobler Eminence. 
 I like my own Path lefs than ever. I do 
 not yet fee far enough. O thou Spirit 
 of Diforder and Confufion, canft thou not 
 be contented to move in the Way allotted 
 thee ? Deviate then into Ruin. Many 
 a winding Walk prefents itfelf on each 
 Hand. Art thou willing to venture ? 
 .No, let us purfue this fafcr, vulgar Pa:! 1 .. 
 Muft we have Dirt and cloudy Wcatiu-r 
 too? You mull. It belongs to this Por- 
 tion of the Univerfe. This Ruin that 
 difpleafes you here, is non rift ing fweec 
 Herbs and delicious Fruits, that will re- 
 frefh you a few Furlongs hence. Behold 
 now the Advantage of thefe defpicable 
 Things you are hedged in with, Thefe 
 Thorns that fometimes pull you back, are 
 often crowned with gay and fragrant Blof- 
 foms, to make the tedious Journey feem 
 lefs irkfome. Thefe thick Trees, that bar 
 your wandering View, are dreft in a foft 
 H 4 Verdure
 
 152 ESSAY XIX. 
 "Verdure that relieves your Eye, and enables 
 it fometimes to take a better Glimpfe 
 through the Branches, on Objects that it 
 could not dwell upon, till it becomes 
 flronger. Beneath a Cyprefs lay a gloomy 
 Philoibpher, who called out in a difmal 
 Tone, whoever you are, fbolifh Pafiengers; 
 know your own Milery. It is impoflible to 
 have any rational Enjoyment, in this your 
 defpitable State. Banifli the Thought of 
 Comfort. You are a Parcel of "Wretches, 
 to be happy is none of your Bufmefs, to 
 be cheerful is an Abfurdlty. Thefe Blof- 
 foms are tranfient as the Spring, thofc vile 
 Fruits you gather as you pafs along, ought 
 not to detain your At;ention one Moment, 
 from thofe Gems that glitter on your 
 Heads, which are your only real Treafure. 
 Thofe wretched Fruits what are they ? 
 They are what fupport us from one Stage 
 to another faid a plain Man, who paft by, 
 aTid our Stock of Gems is gradually in- 
 creafmg, if we keep but fleadily in the 
 right Path, and gently and patiently re- 
 move the Thorns and Briars, that mokft 
 
 us,
 
 ESSAY XIX. 153 
 us, as we move towards the Country of 
 Diamonds. Immediately my Revtrietranf- 
 porced me into a Fair. Long Streets of 
 Booths crofling each other at right Angles 
 formed very regular Squares, of which 
 fome were handfome and ibme -very- 
 ugly, from the different Structures of the 
 Booths. Several Market- Women were 
 carrying away Bundles and Baikets marked 
 with the Names of the various Proprietor?. 
 I met a Hag of a very untoward Look,, 
 bent almoft double with the Weight of 
 Years, her Brow wrinkled, and her Com- 
 plexion Weather-beaten. The Sight of 
 her difpleafed me, but (he was not to be 
 avoided. Here, fa id fhe, offering me a 
 fihhy Bafket, covered at the Top with 
 Thorns, take your Purchafe, and mak'i 
 much of it. My Purchafe, faid I, ftepping 
 back: Nay, faid (lie, e'en take if, and 
 ttung it at my Head. But as fhe turned 
 away, a Smile that began to brighten' 
 on iier folemn Face, diicovered to me 
 that fhe was the good Fairy Experi- 
 ence. I fat down with the Encourage- 
 H- 5, menu
 
 j 14 ESSAY XIX. 
 
 ment this Difcovery gave me, and begaa 
 to examine her Bafket. The Thorns it 
 was covered with coft me a good deal of 
 Time to difentangle, and take them out 
 with Safety to my Fingers, but I recol- 
 lected them diftinctly every one to be fuch 
 as had perplexed me and torn my Clothes, 
 as I pad along the narrow Path, and which 
 one by one I had gently broken off the 
 Boughs while I purfucd my Journey, 
 Theie were the very individual Thorns and 
 Briars, and while I was wondering how 
 they mould come to be fo collected, I came 
 to the Bottom where I found a Row of 
 ineftimable Pearls, equal in number to the 
 Briars, large, even, round, and of an ex- 
 quifite Polim. Befide them lay a Scrip of 
 Paper with thefe Words written on it. 
 
 " Phifofophy and Evennefs of Temper 
 " are Pearls, which we purchafe at the 
 " Price of thofe Vexations and CrofTes in 
 ' Life, that occur to us every Day. Nc- 
 M thing in this World is to be had for no- 
 ? thing. Every Difficulty we fur mount 
 
 " il
 
 ESSAY XIX. 5 
 <c is the Purchafe of fome Advantage. 
 " Go through the Fair, and fee." 
 
 I perceived a good Genius {landing near 
 me, and defired him to be my Cicerone. 
 We went through the Booths and examin- 
 ed the Purchafes. Here the Coin paid 
 down for Health and Eafe, and Freedom 
 from Perplexity, was {tamped with Care 
 and Prudence. There, the Copper Mo- 
 ney of mere plodding Perfeverance was 
 the Price of Wealth, Honour, Learning 
 and Accomplishments. In one Place there 
 was a Sort of Monmouth-Street, where 
 People were bartering old bad Habits for 
 new ones, every Way more becoming, 
 but feemed to think their Bargains very 
 hard, and the very Article of fitting them- 
 en, occasioned fuch a Variety of wry Faces, 
 as would have given great Diverfion to a 
 Grotefque Painter. It was a melancholy 
 Amufement to fee how People miftook in 
 the Value they fet upon Things, how often 
 they pafied by r with a flighting Air, thofe 
 Cioocfe which at firft they might have had 
 H 6 for
 
 156 ESSAY XIX. 
 for a Trifle, and never knew the Worth of 
 them, till they were engaged to other Bid- 
 ders, or the Price raifed very high, or 
 themfclves perhaps gone fo far off before 
 they took the Fancy of returning, that they 
 could not find their Way back without a 
 Guide ; and in the whole Place there was 
 but one Guide to be met with, and fhe of 
 fo forbidding an Afpect, and fo difagreea- 
 ble a Converfation as made her a very un- 
 defirable Companion. She feverely re- 
 proved their FoUy, and obliged them to 
 throw away the Bargains, on which they 
 had moft fet their Heart, and then led them 
 back to the Fair, by a rough, round about 
 Way, to buy thofe they had formerly 
 {lighted. By the Time they had got there, 
 Ihe began to wear a gentler Afpect, and 
 they found fo much Advantage in the 
 Change of their Purchafes, that notwith- 
 standing all her rude Treatment, they ac- 
 knowledged Repwlance as a very ufeful 
 Friend. 
 
 Leifure
 
 ESSAY XIX. 157 
 
 Leifure, I found, was a Metal that proved 
 more or lefs valuable according to the 
 Image ftamped upon it, and as I law whae 
 admirable Curiofities it purchased in the 
 Hands of good Managers, I was quite pro- 
 voked to lee what Quantities of it were 
 flung away : but this was nothing. I faw 
 many fine People throw away Handfuls of 
 Diamonds, that they might have their 
 Fingers at Liberty to catch Butterflies. 
 
 In fome Parts of the Fair, every Bodjr 
 feemed to be playing at crofs Purpofes.. 
 The moft valuable Gems were fquandered 
 away for Trifles, which yet they could not 
 purchafe, and Trifles offered for Jewels of 
 the higheft Price. I faw my Friend Fofco* 
 the Antiquarian, among a Multitude of the 
 fame Clafs, who brought fuch a Quantity 
 of Time aad Induftry, as would have pur* 
 chafed any Thing in the whole Place, and 
 poured it out before a Cabinet of Copper 
 Coins, which, ftill after all, wanted one 
 or two of being perfect. I faw others of 
 gayer Appearance buy a Shadow, a Flowery 
 
 a Fe&-
 
 158 ESSAY XIX. 
 
 a Feather, at ftill a higher Price. At laft, 
 to my infinite Vexation, a lefs fhadowy 
 Figure flood before me, and a Summons 
 to attend fome Vifitors that were juft 
 alighted, put an End to my Reverie. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 [ '59 J 
 
 ESSAY XX. 
 
 THERE is a Magnificence iaJNature, 
 like that of fome fumptuous Feaft. 
 The Objects of our Enjoyment are multi- 
 plied infinitely beyond our Capacities of 
 enjoying : and there is fomething, in the 
 human Mind, perpetually diflatisfied with 
 its prefent Advantages, becaufe it cannot 
 take in every Thing, at once. Like filly 
 Children, pofleffed of all within our Reach, 
 we cry for all we fee. 
 
 The Pefires of our Nature fo vaft, and 
 its Capacities fo bounded, are Demonftra- 
 tions of a Being in its Infancy here, and to 
 be perfected hereafter. But having traced 
 this uneafy Sentiment, this perperual Crav- 
 ing to its natural Source, we Ihould from 
 thence learn to fufpend its Force, during 
 
 oui
 
 i6o ESSAY XX. 
 
 < 
 
 our prefent State , and when once we know 
 at what Sort of Enjoyments we can arrive, 
 and how vainly we ftrive to go further, fit 
 down contented with our Lot, and try to* 
 make the beft of it. - Were this done, as 
 it mould be, Spleen would lofe half its 
 Empire in the World. We fhould not be 
 much mortified at rinding ourfelves tied 
 down for a while, to fuch childifh Amufe- 
 ments, becaufe we fhould confider, that 
 our Exiitence has a nobler Aim, a higher 
 End in View. In the mean Time, till that 
 can be attained, we fhall welcome every 
 fmall Satisfaction, with a cheerful Counte- 
 tenance, and never be too proud to be 
 pleafed. 
 
 I cannot help looking upon Pleafure as 
 a real, and amiable Being, and blefling 
 the Author of Nature, who has created this 
 Charmer to lead Man on towards final 
 Happinefs through, as Shakefpear calls it,, 
 this Worky-day World. The foft Enchan- 
 trefs waves her Wand, and all Nature ap- 
 pears drett in Smiles and Elegance. Sweet
 
 ESSAY XX. 
 
 Smells, gay Colours, mufical Notes, are 
 diffufed through the whole Globe. Every 
 Thing is beautiful in its Seafon. All we 
 have to do, is to open our Minds to fo rich 
 a Variety of delightful Impreflions : to ac- 
 commodate ourfelves with Joy and Thank* 
 fulnefs to the prefent Scene, whatever ic 
 is, and v to make the moft of that Good, 
 which every Thing has in it. To a free 
 Mind all is agreeable : but violent Attach- 
 ments to any particular Objects narrow the 
 Soul, and leflen its Capacity for Enjoy* 
 menr. 
 
 The firft Care to be taken is, to keep our 
 Minds fo loofe and difengagcd from the 
 World, that fetting, as far as poflible, the 
 true Value upon every Thing in it, and 
 no more, we may enjoy all the Satisfaction 
 it can pofTibly afford us, and avoid thofe 
 Anxieties, which mifplaced Affections 
 create. Violent Partialities, mud have vi- 
 olent Antipathies to balance them : Thofe 
 who let up to themfelves Idols to worfhip, 
 will, at the fame Time raife to themfelves 
 
 Hob-
 
 1 62 ESSAY XX. 
 
 Hob-goblins, to fear. We can feldom find 
 in our Hearts to exalt one Character, with- 
 out deprefling another : and we muft ge- 
 nerally have an Object of Ridicule and 
 Diflike, as well as one of Efteem, and Ad- 
 miration. Nay I am afraid, there are more 
 People, who amufe themfelves with fee- 
 ing every Thing in a burlefque and difa* 
 greeable Light, than of fueh, as will take 
 the Pains to be pleafed with an amiable 
 View of this fair World. We are molt 
 ingenious to find out what is wanting or 
 amifs in our Situations : but how ready to 
 overlook the other Side ! What Com- 
 plaints of the fcorching Heat of Summer, 
 the pinching Cold of Winter ! For fome 
 People, no Day is good enough, no Place 
 without its Faults, no Company without 
 its Failings. Alas, alas ! as if it were any 
 Thing new or unexpected, that this World 
 fliould be, in many Things deficient : as 
 if it were a Proof of Genius to difcover, 
 what it is a much better Proof of good 
 Senfe to pafs over, and as if it needed 
 quick Eyes to difcern the Flaws in this 
 
 rough
 
 ESSAY XX. 163 
 
 rough Caft of a Globe. Who could ever 
 expeft it to be all made of folid Pearl, 
 and polifhed to the higheft Luftre ? Yet 
 iuch as it is, if we make the beft of it, 
 we (hall enjoy no fniall Degree of Hap- 
 pinefs. 
 
 There is in every Thing, a Charm, a 
 Good, that we have Capacities to tafte, if 
 we would ufe them. The enthufiaftic 
 Language of Poetry alone, is fitted to 
 defcribe the Bloom of Nature, in a Coun- 
 try Scene. One Breath of vernal Air dif- 
 fuies Serenity and Joy, through the Soul. 
 The Mufic of the Woods, tunes every 
 Thought to Harmony. The clear Height 
 of the Firmament, and the bright Bluenefs 
 of the ^Ether, is Tranfport to the Eye, 
 and Gladnefs to the Heart. While the 
 Sight wanders through the gay Expanfe, 
 the Mind rifes to the nobleft Contempla- 
 tions, and our Thoughts expatiate upon 
 future Scenes of fair Exiftence, in Worlds 
 all of Harmony and Beauty. 
 
 lut,
 
 1 64 F. S S A Y XX. 
 
 But, to give us a juft View of our Ca 
 pacities for PLnfure, and fure this is a 
 Rent-roll well '\vorth looking over, we 
 may confider what Joy almoft every Kind 
 of Object affords to fome. Set of Men or 
 other, and refolve out of Duty and Pru- 
 dence to draw fome Degree of that Satif- 
 faclion from them, which thefe do from 
 Inclination, or acquired Partiality : at 
 kaft not to overlook, with Contempt, or 
 regard with Averfion, whatever is not con<. 
 trary to Innocence or Reafon. See but 
 how delighted the Florift and Botanift are 
 with thofe Bloffoms and Herbs, which the 
 reft of Mankind tread carelefsly under 
 Foot. Obferve the Aftronomer, with what 
 Tranfport he views thofe clear Stars, which 
 the Mortal of Bufmefs, or the Buttery of 
 Amufement, fcarce ever find Leiiure to 
 look up to. Mind the Painter, who fees 
 all Things in a picturefque View, how 
 charmed he is with the blended Lights 
 and Shades, in every Lancifcape. Notaing 
 efcapes him ; each Figure has an Attitude, 
 an Air, fomething graceful or grotefque : 
 
 and
 
 ESSAY xx. 1 63 
 
 and fo far is not ridiculous. E^very Kind 
 of Virtuofo has his darling Attention, and 
 each one is the Source of fome Pleafure* 
 unknown to the reft of the World. Why- 
 may not we (hare in them all ? What a 
 Veneration has the Antiquary for Duft and 
 Mould ? How pleafed is the Collector of 
 Rarities, with Moths and Shells, nay, with 
 \vhat many of us (hould look upon as the 
 Rcfufe and Deformities of Nature. Thcfe 
 good People as much as they d^fpife one 
 another, have, all of them, Reaibh on 
 their Side, as far as it will carry them. 
 But when attached to one particular Thingj 
 we indulge our Fondnefs to an Extrava- 
 gance, then Ridicule comes in, with a 
 juft Reproof^ But this belongs only to 
 the Degree, to the immoderate Fondnefs 3 
 for in fome Meafure, every Thing deferves 
 a pleafed Attention. The Flower, the 
 Butterfly^ the Shell has exquifite Beauty : 
 the Herb, invaluable Ufe. Every Species 
 of Learning is an Improvement to humari 
 Nature : and thofe, of which the Ufe is 
 not obvious, may tend, perhaps, to impor- 
 tant
 
 166 E S $' A Y XX, 
 
 tant Difcoveries yet unthought of. Ann> 
 quity is truly venerable, its Simplicitj 
 amiable, its Annals inftructive* Modernl 
 Refi-nements have their Merit. The moft| 
 trifling Gaieties of focial Life exhilerate 
 the Heart, and polifh the Manners. One 
 might as fairly number the Sands on the 
 Sea Shore, as reckon up the Multitude of 
 Things, that may afford a wife and rea- 
 fonable Pleafure. Were our Lives here 
 ftretched out, to fome thoufands of Years, 
 we might (till be learning or enjoying 
 fomething new. Yet this Confideration 
 does not make long Life at all defirable, 
 fince our Advantages in another State will 
 be fuperior to all, that our beft Improve* 
 ments can help us to acquire in this. 
 
 ESSAY
 
 ESSAY XXI. 
 
 HO W vain, and how vexatious is the 
 Flutter of the World ! Even I, who 
 am fufficiently fenfible, perhaps too much 
 fo, to its Pleafures and Amufements, can 
 find, after a little while, my Spirits quite 
 worn out by them, and learn from a fre- 
 quent Experience, that Reflection of the 
 mod ferious Sort, is the only true and laft- 
 ing Source of Cheerfulnefs. 
 
 As moft of our Affections here tafee 
 their deepeft Tinge from the Workings of 
 Imagination, fo there are perhaps fcarce 
 any, that will maintain their terrifying 
 Shapes againfl the calm Efforts of Reafon : 
 but, when amidft the Hurry of a mixed 
 and varied Scene, v/e give them only now 
 
 and
 
 i6S E S S* A Y XXI. 
 
 and then a tranfitory Glance, theie airy 
 Phantoms caft a Gloom and Horror over 
 our whole Lives. It is then, that Poverty 
 and Pain, and Sicknefs, Difgrace and Dif- 
 appointment, nay Satiety itfelf, ftrike upon 
 our unguarded Fancies, in the moft dread- 
 ful Manner. Our Hearts are filled with 
 Sorrow, and poured out in ungrateful 
 Complainings. Cool Reflection alone can 
 difdain thefe Bugbears of the Mind : and 
 to one who comprehends, fo far as our 
 bounded Understandings can comprehend, 
 the univerfal Scheme of Providence, few 
 of its particular Difpenfations will appear 
 ievere, while every prefcnt Suffering is 
 Overbalanced by a glorious Futurity. 
 
 naturally the Contemplation of 
 fohat is moft melancholy, leads to the moft 
 enlivening Hopes, may be feen in fome 
 X T erfes, which I will infert here, and 
 which flowed from a natural Chain of 
 Thoughts from the trifling, but gloomy 
 Incident of a Bell tolling at Midnight. 
 
 Hark!
 
 E S' S A Y XXI. 169 
 
 Hark! with what folemn Toll the Midnight Bell 
 Summons Reflexion to her duflcy Cell: 
 With leaden Sound it dully ftrikes the Ear, 
 Bids Horror wake, and carelefs Fancy hear ; 
 ChilPd Fancy hears with awful Gloom oppreft 
 Thus by the deep-feh, wordlefs Voice addreft. 
 
 Wake Mortal! Wake from Pleafure's golden 
 
 Dream, 
 
 The prefent gay Purfuit, the future Scheme ; 
 The vain Regret of Hours for ever pad, 
 The vain Delight in Joys not made to laft : 
 The vainer prying into future Days, 
 Since, ere To-morrow's Sun exerts its Rays, 
 My Toll may fpeak them vain to thee. Thy Fears, 
 Thy Hopes, thy Wifhes vain, and vain thy Tears. 
 What then to Thee, \vhofe folded Limbs fliall reft 
 In the dark Bofom of the fabled Cheft, 
 What will it then import to Thee, if Fame, 
 With flatt'ring Accents, dwells upon thy Name, 
 Or fpurns thy Duft, or if, thy mould'ring Form' 
 Safe from Life's dang'rous Calm, or dreadful Storm, 
 Sleeps in the Concave of a well-turn'd Tomb 
 By Marble Cupids mourn'd, amid the Gloom 
 Of fome old Abbey venerably rude 
 In Gothic Pride: or in fome Solitude 
 
 VOL. I. I Be'neatk
 
 1 70 E S S A Y XXL 
 
 Beneath the fpreading Hawthorn's flow'ry Shade, 
 Crown'd wich frefh Grafs and waving Fern is laid : 
 Trod, in feme public Path, by frequent Feet 
 Of paffing Swains, or deck'd by Vi'lets fweet ; 
 Namelefs, unheeded, till a future Day 
 Shall animate to Blifs the lifelefs Clay. 
 
 Or whether gaily paft thy feftive Hours, 
 Bath'd in rich Oils, and crown'd with blooming 
 
 Flow'rs ; 
 Or pinch'd with Want, and pin'd with wafting 
 
 Care, 
 
 All Joys, all Griefs, alike forgotten there. 
 The Part well afted gracious Heav'n affign'd, 
 If of the King, the Warrior or the Hind, 
 It matters not : or whether deck'd the Scene, 
 With Pomp and Show, or humble, poor and mean. 
 The Colouring of Life's Fifture fades away, 
 When to thefe Shades fucceeds a clearer Day. 
 The Colouring partial Fortune blindly gave, 
 Debas'd the imperial Figure to a Slave. 
 In glitt'ring Robes, bade ftiapelefs Monilers glow 
 And in a Crown conceal'd the fervile Brow. 
 Perhaps falfe Lights on well drawn Figures thrown, 
 Scarce cautious Virtue would her Image own : 
 But when the Glofs of Titles, Wealth and Pow'r, 
 -Of Youth's ihort Charm, and Beauty's fading Flow'r, 
 
 Be-
 
 ESSAY XXI. 171 
 
 Jefore Truth's dazzling Sun (hall fade away, 
 \nd the bare Out- Lines dare the piercing Ray, 
 rhen if the Pencil of thy Life has trac'd 
 \ noble Form, with full Proportion grac'd, 
 \ Model of that Image, Heav'n impreft 
 n the firft Thoughts of thy untainted Breaft, 
 Vhate'er the Painting Fortune's Hand beftow'd, 
 Vhether in Crimfon Folds thy Garments flow'd, 
 )r Rags ungraceful o'er thy Limbs were thrown, 
 Thy ev'ry Virtue overlook'd, unknown ; 
 An Eye all-judging, an all-pow'rful Hand 
 The bounteous Pallet fhall at length command, 
 lejefl the vicioui Shape that fhrinks away 
 jtript of thofe Robes, that dreft it once fo gay. 
 i^xcufe the imperfeft Form, if well defign'd, 
 Vhere the weak Stroke betray'd the enlighten'dMind; 
 irant ev'ry Ornament End ev'ry Aid 
 )n ev'ry Failing caft the proper Shade, 
 ind bid each fmiling Virtue ftand difplay'd ; 
 mproving ev'ry Patt, with Skill divine 
 l the fair Piece in full Perfection (hinc. 
 
 I 3 ESSAY
 
 [ I 7 2 ] 
 
 ESSAY XXII. 
 
 WHY is it that almoft all Employ- 
 ments are fo unfatisfactory, and 
 that when one hath pad a Day of common 
 Life, in the beft Way one can, it feems, 
 upon Reflection, to be fo mere a Blank ? 
 And what is the Conclufiori to be drawn 
 from fo mortifying an Obfervation ? Cer- 
 tainly not any Conclufion in Favour of 
 Idlenefs : for Employment, as fuch, is a 
 very valuable Thing. Let us have done 
 ever fo little, yet if we have done our befc, 
 we have the Merit of having been employ- 
 ed, and this moral Merit is the only Thing 
 of Importance in human Life. 
 
 To complain of the Infignificancy of our 
 Employments, is but another Name for 
 repining at that Providence, which has 
 
 appointed,
 
 ESSAY XXII. 
 
 appointed, to each of us, our Station : 
 Let us but fill that well, to the ntmoft of 
 our Power, and whatever it be, we lhall 
 find it to have Duties and Advantages 
 enough. 
 
 But whence then, is this conftant DifTa- 
 tisfaction of the human Mind , this Reft- 
 leffnefs, this perpetual Aim at f(Asething 
 higher and better, than, in the prefent State, 
 it ever can attain ? Whence, but from its 
 celeftial Birth, its immortal Nature, fram- 
 ed for the nobleft Purfuits and Attain 
 ments, and in due Time, to be reftorecl 
 to all this Dignity of Being, if it does bur 
 behave properly in its prefent Humiliation. 
 
 Be that as it will, there is fomething 
 painful in this ftrong Senfe of WorthlefT- 
 nefs and Meannefs, that muft make People 
 of Leifure and Reflection pafs many an 
 uneafy Hour. Perhaps there is nothing 
 better fitted to wean us from Life : but in 
 doing that, it by no Means ought to 
 hinder us from Induftry and Contentment. 
 I 3 Every
 
 ESSAY XXII. 
 
 Every Station, every Profefilon, every 
 Trade has its proper Set of Employments, 
 of which it is an indifpenfable Duty for 
 every Perfon to inform themfelves with 
 Care, and to execute with Patience, Per- 
 feverance and Diligence. This Rule cf 
 Duty holds, from the Emperor to the Ar- 
 tifan : fof though the Employments are dif- 
 ferent, the Duty, that enforces them, is 
 the fame, in all. Man is born to labour: 
 it is the Condition of his Being - t and the 
 greateft cannot exempt themfelves from it, 
 without a Crime. 
 
 If we confider well, we fliall find, that 
 all Employments, in this tranfient Scene, 
 come pretty much to the fame Nothing- 
 nefs. The Labours of thofe who were 
 bnfy and buftiing on this Glebe, five or fix 
 hundred Years ago what now remains of 
 them, but the Merit, to the Perfons them- 
 felves, of having been well employed. 
 How many valuable Books, the Employ- 
 ment, and the worthy one, of whole Lives, 
 have perimed long ago, with the very 
 
 Name
 
 ESSAY XXII. 175 
 
 Name of their Authors ! The ftrongett 
 Monuments of human Arc and Induftrv, 
 Obelifks, Temples, Pyramids are moul- 
 dered into Duft, and the brittle Monu- 
 ments of Female Diligence in Pye -Craft, 
 are not more totally loft to the World. To 
 found an Empire was enough to gain a 
 Sort of Immortality : yet the Empires 
 themfelves have proved mortal. 
 
 There are certainly fome Employments 
 of a noble, and a happy Kind, but, in no 
 Degree, anfwerable to our Ideas : for the 
 beft we can do, is moft poor, whether we 
 would improve ourfelves, or do Good to 
 our Fellow-Creatures, in Comparifon of 
 the Capacity of our Mind, in its original 
 State ; which refembles fome vaft Roman 
 Amphitheatre, that once contained Myriads 
 of happy People within its ample Round : 
 defaced and ruined it can now fcarcely af- 
 ford Shelter, from the fudden Storm, to a 
 few filly Shepherds. 
 
 14 ESSAY
 
 ESSAY XXIII. 
 
 IT is too common, for Perfons, who are 
 perfectly convinced of the Duty of 
 Patience and cheerful Refignatton, under 
 great and fevere Trials, in which the 
 Hand of Providence is plainly feen, to let 
 themfelves grow fretful and plaintive under 
 little Vexations, and flight Difappoint- 
 ments : as if their Submiffion in one Cafe, 
 gave them a Right to rebel in another. 
 As if there was fomething meritorious in 
 the greater Sufferings, that gave them a 
 Claim to full Indulgence in every trifling 
 Wifh of their Heart : and accordingly they 
 will fet their Hearts moft violently upon 
 little Reliefs and Amufements, and com- 
 plain and pity themfelves grievoufly, if 
 they are at any Time denied. 
 
 All
 
 ESSAY XXIII. 177 
 All this is building on a falfe Founda- 
 tion. The fame gracious Providence, that 
 fends real Afflictions only for our Good, 
 will, we may be abfolutely fure, afford us 
 fuch Supports and Reliefs under them, as 
 are needful and fit : but it will not ac- 
 commodate itfelf to our idle Humour. 
 
 To be happy, we muft depend for our 
 Happinefs on Him alone, who is able to 
 give it. We muft not lean on human 
 Props of any Kind : though when granted 
 us, we may thankfully accept and make 
 Ufe of them , but always with Caution 
 not to lay fo much Weight upon them, as 
 that the Reed broken under our Hand, 
 may go into it, and pierce it. 
 
 On the Lofs of a Friend, we muft not 
 fay, this and that Perfon, this and that 
 Amufement mall be my Relief and Sup- 
 port. But to Providence I muft fubmit. 
 Providence will fupport me in what 
 Way it fees proper. The Means on which 
 I muft depend, under thai, are a careful 
 I 5 and
 
 17$ ESSAY XXIII. 
 
 and cheerful Performance of, and an Aqui- 
 efcence in whatever is my Duty. I mult 
 accommodate myfelf to all its Appoint- 
 ments : and be they Health or Languor, 
 a dull, or an aftive and gay Life ; a So- 
 ciety agreeable to my Fancy, or one that 
 is not, or none at all ; if, I do but en- 
 deavour to keep up this right Difpolition, 
 and behave accordingly, nothing ought to 
 make me melancholy, or unhappy, nothing 
 can t nothing JhalL Forward beyond this 
 Life, in this Cafe, I not only may y but 
 ought to look, with Joy and Flope, with 
 Cheerfulnefs and Alacrity of Spirit. For- 
 ward in this Life, it is not only painful., 
 but faulty to look either with Anxiety, or 
 with felf- flattering Schemes. Yet on this 
 prefent Scene, from Day to Day, and for- 
 ward fo far as is neceflary to the Duty of 
 Prudence, I may look with a Smile of 
 Content and Gratitude : for every Day has 
 fomething, has innumerable Things, good 
 and cheerful in it, if I know but how to 
 make the beft of it. 
 
 In
 
 ESSAY XXIII. 179 
 
 In a Change of Situation, think not like 
 a Child, of the Toys you leave, and the 
 Toys you mall find, to make you Amends 
 for them. All Play-things are brittle. Think 
 not, like a grazing Animal, that you have 
 changed one Pafture for another : and 
 mall graze on this, or that Herb here, 
 with Delight : " The Herb withereth, the 
 " Flower fadeth" every where. But think, 
 like a reafonable Creature. This Change 
 was appointed for me : Acquiefcence is my 
 Duty : Duty muft be my Support. Yet 
 I know, fuch is the Condefcendence of in- 
 finite Goodnefs, that I mall have many a 
 {lighter Relief, and Agreeablenefs thrown 
 in: but thefe are by the by: not to be 
 reckoned on before-hand, nor to be grieved 
 for, if they fail or intermit. 
 
 16 ESSAY
 
 ESSAY XXIV. 
 
 WHAT are my Ideas of Happinefs ? 
 Negative ones prefent themfelves 
 firft. A Freedom from Guilt from Self- 
 diflike from Fear from Vexation from 
 Languor from Pain from Sorrow. 
 
 The Joy of early Youth and early Morn- 
 ing, that is, Vigour and Capacity for con- 
 tinual Improvement, and a long Space be- 
 fore one to exert them in, with a Variety of 
 new and noble Objects. But, alas, how 
 am I fitted for this, who have acquired 
 foch ftrong Habits of loitering Indolence 
 loft all Power of Application. 
 
 Therefore Application, a Habit of it 
 ought to be re acquired, though the Ob- 
 
 jefts
 
 ESSAY XXIV. 181 
 jecls of it here, -are looked upon with the 
 Indifference, they fo highly deferve. 
 
 The Approbation and Protection and 
 Guidance of the Good, Wife, Amiable, 
 
 and Great How much have I unde- 
 
 fervedly experienced of that, even here ! 
 But mixed with a Painfulnefs, and Degree 
 of Sufpicion, from feeling that / am no- 
 thing, and have no Claim to it : and that 
 the bed of Them are but a Degree above 
 nothing : are fallible, and may be deceived, 
 in me, or miflead me : are mortal, and 
 muft forfake me, and leave me. But look 
 higher, and there is a Power, that can 
 make us what it will, and Goodnefs that 
 wills our Happinefs ; and Wifdom, that 
 can fully fit us for it : and Majefty and 
 Amiablenefs no Expreffion can reach the 
 Ideas, that fill the Soul, in this Contem- 
 plation and Hope. Total Solitude in the 
 Enjoyment of Thoughts like thefe, feems, 
 to me, high Happinefs. But the cor- 
 ruptible Body would foon prefs down the 
 Mind : the exhaufted Spirits would fink into 
 
 Wretch-
 
 ESSAY XXIV. 
 
 Wretch ednefs, and there would be a Self- 
 reproach for the Neglecl of focial Duties. 
 There will be Duration enough, for all, 
 hereafter, and Strength for every various 
 Exertion. There are fome poor Pleafures 
 here, which are only fuch, becaufe the 
 mortal Frame requires them, as it does 
 Food, and Sleep. Thefe are what one 
 calls Relaxations, Amufements, Trifles, 
 that unbend the Mind, and vary its Ideas 
 agreeably. The Sight of gay Flowers or 
 funny Landfcapes j the Song of Birds ; the 
 Sportings of innocent Imagination, in 
 fome trifling Book ; the Gaieties of young 
 Animals. 1 am very thankful for thefe, in 
 their Seafon, but pad the Moment when 
 they are necefTary, the Landfcape foon 
 fades, if feen by ones felf alone : and the 
 Book gives quite another kind of Delight, 
 if read in a Society, that are- equally 
 pleafed. The Amufement of Animals, is 
 from feeing them happy, and all this tends 
 to promote right Difpofitions, as the 
 Contemplation of beautiful Objects, and 
 
 feet
 
 ESSAY XXIV. i&i 
 
 fweet Sounds raifes the Mind to grateful 
 Adoration. 
 
 The mortal Pleafure I can the leaft 
 know how to lay out of my Ideas, is the 
 fweet Forgetfulnefs of quiet and refrefh- 
 ing Sleep : a great Blefiing here, but only 
 here where there are Cares, and Fears and 
 Follies to be forgot. But if not indulged 
 beyond needful Refremment, it oughr, 
 furely, while we are here, to be accepted 
 with humble Thankfulnefs.. 
 
 The Joys of Society are, of all others 
 mod mixed with Pain. Yet where all arc 
 perfect, and where all are happy, how 
 lublime muft they be ! Alas my great, 
 my continual Failure is in focial Duties ! 
 Why ? Becaufe I am almoft continually in 
 Society. In Solitude, one has nothing to 
 do, but to cherifh good and pleafing Difpo- 
 fitions. In Society, at every unguarded 
 Moment, bad and painful ones break out, 
 and fill one with Shame, Remorfe, and 
 Vexation' Selfilhnefs (hows its ugly Head: 
 
 little
 
 1 84 ESSAY XXIV. 
 little Contradictions excite Vehemence of 
 Temper, to put out its Claws : Talkative- 
 nefs prates away the ineftimable Hours, 
 without Ufe or Pleafure. Even good Hu- 
 mour, and Eafmefs of Temper muft be 
 retrained and mortified, elfe they lead to 
 criminal Negligence, and deftructive Ex- 
 travagance. The jufteft Affections muft 
 be regulated, elfe they tie down the Heart 
 too much. On the contrary, Juftice and 
 Gratitude demand often, that our kindeft 
 Affections mould be excited and expreit, 
 where natural Temper and Inclination do 
 not prompt them. We ought with the 
 flricteft Eye of Juftice to diftinguim Right 
 and Wrong in Characters, and yet with-the 
 tendereft Charity to overlook, and com- 
 paffionate ten thoufand leffer Faults, and 
 DifagreeablenefTes. 
 
 In (hort, the Life of Society is the Life 
 of conftant, unremitting, Mortification, 
 and Self-denial. It is this, that makes the 
 only ufeful Hardship of the Cloiftcr, not 
 the Failings, Hair-Cloths, Watchings, and 
 
 Dif-
 
 ESSAY XXIV. 185 
 
 Difciplines. But it is really ftill harder in 
 uncloiftered Society. To keep the Mind 
 in right Frame, amid ten thoufand Inter- 
 ruptions : to be regular, and diligent, 
 without the Poflibility of any fettled Plan : 
 To fpread Cheerfulnefs when one is not 
 pleafed : to fupport it in ones felf, when 
 others are dejefted and a fad Look, or a 
 fad Word, from thofe I love finks my 
 Heart : as a good Word, and a Smile 
 raifes it inftantaneoufly. 
 
 But far, far better than the cloiftered 
 Rules of Man's foolifh and arbitrary In- 
 vention, the Life of Society, with all its 
 Self-denials, is the Appointment of the 
 Almighty. Every Individual, of human 
 Society, is ennobled, and endeared by its 
 Relation to Him. For the meaneft of 
 thefe, Chrift died. Our Love to each 
 other, to every one of each other, is the 
 Proof required of our being his Difciples. 
 
 Selfimnefs therefore muft be continually 
 overcome, except where fome real Harm, or 
 
 great
 
 i86 ESSAY XXIV. 
 great Pain may be avoided by very flight 
 Inconvenience : and*then it fhould not be 
 cunningly contrived, but openly requefted : 
 and if granted, accepted as a Favour, or 
 the Refuial cheerfully acquidced in. 
 
 Bur, in other Refpects, how can we do 
 Good ? Follow as God's Providence leads, 
 each in his Station, within his Bounds, and 
 within his Capacity. Above all keep up 
 Cheerfulnefs and good Humour. An Air 
 of DifTatisfaction is doubly faulty. It be- 
 lies your eternal Hopes, and dimeartens 
 all around you. But Converfation is fo 
 empty, fo ufelefs. Keep it peaceable and 
 innocent, at leaft. Reftrain Talkativenefs 
 in yourfelf, that you may think a little, 
 how to introduce fomewhat ufeful : but do- 
 not flrive too much. Mere good Hu- 
 mour is very ufeful : it tunes the Mind, 
 Do, in every Thing, the bed you can : 
 and truft in better Merits, that it mail be 
 accepted. Look forward to the Conver- 
 fation of Angels, and perfected Spirits : of 
 thofe whom you have loved, and who have 
 
 loved
 
 ESSAY XXIV. 187 
 
 loved you amidfl all your mutual Imper- 
 fections here. 'There will be nothing but 
 Joy, and eternal Improvement. All joined 
 in executing the divine Will, and dwelling 
 on its Praifes. No more Fear of Sorrow, 
 or Parting : no more Doubts and Jealoufies 
 of yourfdf : no Anxieties for them : all 
 fixed and fecure. Of paft Sorrows and 
 Frailties will remain only the everlafting 
 Gratitude of thofe who have been re- 
 lieved, and forgiven. Each to other, in their 
 due Degrees: all fupremely, to their God, 
 and Saviour !
 
 [ '88 ] 
 
 ESSAY XXV. 
 
 THIS is a Day I have Caufe to blefs. 
 Let no gloomy Thought come near 
 ir. But can I keep out of my Mind, the 
 Thought of fuch a Friend, as I fo lately 
 had ? with a whole Train of Ideas attend- 
 ing that Thought ? No -, undoubtedly : 
 but let me think of that Friend, and re- 
 gulate thofe Ideas, as I ought. Let me, 
 with humble, joyful Gratitude, confider, 
 in how many excellent Beings I have the 
 Intereft of an affectionate and beloved 
 Friend. Glories of the World ! I look 
 down upon you : My Happinefs, my Boaft 
 are of a higher Kind. 
 
 Thefe Friends are, at prefent, far fepa- 
 rated from one another, but all happy : 
 and, in a blefied Hereafter, I am permit- 
 ted
 
 ESSAY XXV. 189 
 ted humbly but joyfully to hope, that we 
 lhall all be eternally re-united. What mu- 
 tual Gratulations, what tender Recolledi- 
 ons muft attend that Re-union 1 And oh, 
 what unfpeakable Gratitude and Adoration 
 to Him, through whofe blefled Redemp- 
 tion, that Blifs (hall be attained, and this 
 Mortal put on Immortality ! The frail hu- 
 man Heart can hardly bear the Tranfport 
 of the Thought ! This Idea is too vaft, 
 and too bright. Yet, it is not a fairy Vi- 
 fion, but a ftedfaft, eternal Truth. 
 
 Far away, then, all melancholy Appre- 
 henfions of Death, of Pain, of Parting, 
 mere Shadows every one ! For what is 
 Pain ? An Hour of Trial, the Proof of 
 our Faith, Patience and Fortitude. What 
 is Death ? The Entrance upon our Re- 
 ward, the End of our Dangers and Per- 
 plexities, the Point to which we have been 
 tending from our Birth. What is Parting? 
 More bitter in itfelf than Death, Bccaufe 
 it leaves us deftitute of our deareft Sup- 
 ports, in a State wherein we feem to need 
 
 them
 
 190 ESSAY XXV. 
 
 them mod:. This then, as the fevereft 
 Pain, is the nobleft Trial. And are we 
 not fure that we are in the Hands of a 
 merciful God, whofe every Attribute is 
 engaged to lay no more upon us, than our 
 own Faith, and our own fincere Endeavours 
 concurring, He will enable us to bear, to 
 triumph over ? 
 
 We are born, into this World, poor 
 helplefs Creatures : but Parents, Friends, 
 Protectors are provided to conduct us up 
 to Maturity. An all-gracious Providence 
 works by what Variety of Inftruments it 
 fees fit : but fit Inftruments it never wants, 
 and never can want. The Seeds of Good, 
 and Evil grow up with us : at lead, the 
 Enemy fows his Tares fo early, that they 
 foon overtake the Grain. To root out the 
 one, and to cherilh the other, is the Bufi- 
 nefs of Life. What is it, to us, by what 
 Means, or by what Change of Hands, the 
 Mafter of the Harveft vouchfafes to do 
 this ? fince our great Concern is only, that 
 it be effectually done, and then, we arc 
 
 well
 
 ESSAY XXV. 191 
 well afiured, that He " will gather the 
 " Wheat, into his Garner." 
 
 He, who has given the former Rain in 
 its Seafon, will not deny the latter Rain, 
 alfo, to the diligent and pious Hufband- 
 man. Where a merciful Providence has 
 remarkably bleft the earlier Part of Life, 
 the well-difpofed Heart need not fear, that 
 the later Years of it mall be left deftitute. 
 Every fit Support, and Guidance (hall be 
 provided : nay every Comfort and Delight, 
 that contradifts ^not fome ftill kinder In- 
 tention, or more important Aim. 
 
 Sufferings belong to human Nature. Of 
 thefe, fomc Perfons have a larger, fome a 
 lighter Share, and this indifcriminately, in 
 fome Meafure, to Bad and Good. This 
 Appointment is for wife Reafons, fome of 
 which, even our poor fhallow Underfland- 
 ings can trace. But the Good are aflured 
 that they (hall never want any necefiary 
 Support, under their Sufferings : and to 
 know that they are liable to them," is one 
 
 appointed
 
 i 9 2 ESSAY XXV. 
 appointed Trial of their Faith, of their 
 Submiflion. A true Chriftian knows, that 
 all thefe Things (hall finally work together 
 for his good. Why then fhould he dread 
 any of them ? 
 
 But when thefe Sufferings are actually 
 prefent, how muft they be fupported ? 
 Cheerfully. To thofe who know, that all 
 is, on the whole, well, every pafling Day 
 brings its Amufement and Relief : and let 
 thefe be thankfully accepted. Thofe who 
 are removed out of this World are happy: 
 they are removed in God's good Time. 
 Thofe, who are continued in it muft re- 
 joice in every Comfort, that attends their 
 Continuance : muft be thankful for every 
 added Year. For, is not Life a Blefiing ? 
 May not this added Time be improved to 
 moft excellent P.urpofes ? Let this then be 
 our Endeavour. 
 
 While continued in human Society, let 
 us preferve a fociable, a friendly Spirit. 
 Let our joyful affectionate Remembrance 
 
 attend
 
 fe S S A Y XXV. 193 
 
 Attend thofe, who are removed already 
 into a higher Clafs of Beines. But let our 
 
 O *3 
 
 a<5tive Love be exerted towards all our 
 Fellow-Travellers : and let it be our Aim* 
 fo far as we are enabled, to lead many 
 along with us towards thofe happy Manfi- 
 ons. This, at prefent, it feems, is the 
 only Work we are fit for : and is it not a 
 blefled one ? 
 
 " Be glad O ye Righteous, and rejoic* 
 * c in the Lord, for a good and pleafant 
 ** Thing it \a to be thankful !" 
 
 Vot, I, K ESSAY
 
 [ ''94 
 
 
 ESSAY XXVL 
 
 AMUSEMENT is ufeful and lau- 
 dable, not when ic draws the Mind 
 from religious Subjects (in this View the 
 World ufes it and is deftroyed by it) but, 
 when it takes the Thoughts from fuch 
 Sorrows as are merely temporal, and ima- 
 ginary, and fo refits them for that better 
 Employment, which, without this harmlefs 
 Medium, they could not fo foon or fo weH 
 have refumed. The idle Mind fiys Im- 
 provement as its Enemy, and feeks Amufe- 
 inent as its End. The Chriftian Heart has 
 but one Home, one Joy, one Purfuit. 
 But from this Home it is too often de- 
 tained : from this Joy it is too often fhut 
 cmt : in this Purfuit it is, too often, hin- 
 dered, by the Frailty of human Nature, the 
 necelfary Attentions and Engagements of 
 
 Life,
 
 ESSAY XXVI. 195 
 
 Life, the Attachments of Affinity, and 
 Friendfhip. 
 
 On this Side Eternity, Cares and Sorrows 
 \viil be felt, in ibme Degree, by the Btrft : 
 but the Chriftian, who knows that it is his 
 abfolute Duty to rejoice, and give Thanks, 
 in every Thing, indulges not thofe gloomy 
 Hours, nor wilfully harbours one melan- 
 choly Thought. Yet ftriving with fuch 
 Thoughts, is only to be worfe entangled 
 in them. At fuch Times the good, and 
 humble Mind, accepts thankfully the Af- 
 fiftance of the verieft Trifle, the moft com- 
 mon and uninterefting Object, or Em- 
 ployment, that can difiipate the prefent 
 Chain of vain and tirefome Thought : and 
 this Chain once broken", it flies with re- 
 cruited Vigour to its true Home, " as a 
 " Bird out of the Snare." 
 
 By common and uninterefting Objects, I 
 
 mean only to exclude all Indulgences of 
 
 Fancy and Imagination, and fuch Amufe- 
 
 ments as feem interefting, becaufe they 
 
 K 2 indeed
 
 ESSAY XXVI. 
 
 indeed footh the Difpofition, which we 
 fuppofe ourfelves flying from, as, for Ex- 
 ample, melancholy Mufic, and poetically 
 folemn 'Scenes. Bur, in a higher View, 
 the lead Flower of the Field, is a more 
 interefting Objcd than the proudeft Pa- 
 lace. For what Object can be fmall, or 
 uninterefting, that is the Work and Gift 
 of the Almighty ! This Flower, or Infect, 
 or Shell, would Afpafia fay, is given to 
 me, at this Inftant, by ever prefenr, ever 
 v.-atchful GoodntTs, to call off my Thoughts 
 jrcm their prelcnt vain Anxiety, ,or f-nful 
 Regret, to the thankful Contemplation of 
 a gracious Creator, and Redeemer. Th's 
 Employment, this Company, that calls 
 my preient Attention from Subjects, it 
 coukl wifh to purfue, though it purfues 
 them to its Hurt : this dull and unedifying 
 Company, this dry and trifling Employ- 
 ment, is, in the Order of Providence, a 
 hind Remedy, to unbend my Mind, and 
 thereby reftore its Strength. As fuch I 
 will thankfully accept it, and cheerfully 
 turn mylelf* CQ it : for if I am ahfent in 
 
 Company,
 
 ESSAY XXVI, 
 
 Company, I had better be alone j my Soul 
 is equally wafting its Strength, in earneft 
 Thought, and melancholy Recollection, 
 and mv Appearance difcredits the Caufe of 
 Religion. 
 
 Thefe are the Reafon?, that make it a 
 Duty to open the Mind to every innocent 
 Pleafure : to the Admiration of every rural 
 Object, to harmlefs Pleafantry and Mirth, 
 to fuch a general Acquaintance with Arts 
 and Sciences, Trades and Ma n u fa 61 u res, 
 Books and Men, as fliall enable us to at- 
 tend to, and to be amufed, in fome Degree, 
 with every Scene, and with every Conver- 
 fation. There is juft the fame Pride in 
 refolving, that our Minds (hall be always 
 employed on the Stretch, as in imagining 
 that our Reafon is a competent Judge of 
 all Subjects : human Frailty and Imper- 
 fection, alike forbids both. The Ifraelites 
 gathered their Manna, from Day to Day : 
 fo mould we our temporal Pleafures, and 
 Comforts, and truft Him to provide for 
 
 To-morrow,
 
 ESSAY XXVI. 
 To-morrow, who (applied us Yefterday. 
 When through Eagernefs, and Fondncfs of 
 Mind, we hoard up, by anxious Schemes 
 and \V ifties, a Portion for ourfelves, it 
 breeds but Corruption. Only in the Ark 
 can it be laid up fafe, 
 
 END of the FIRST
 
 ESSAYS 
 
 O N VARI O U S 
 
 SUBJECTS, 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 
 
 * 
 
 
 I 8
 
 ESSAYS 
 
 ON VARIOUS 
 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 By the AUTHOR of 
 
 REFLECTIONS 
 
 O H THE 
 
 | 
 
 SEVEN DAYS of the WEEK, 
 VOL. 1L 
 
 L O N D O N r 
 
 JMntecl for JOHN and FRANCIS 
 
 (N 62) St. Paul's Church-Yard,
 
 DIALOGUES 
 
 VOL, II. 
 
 B
 
 U] 
 
 DIALOGUE I. 
 
 MY dear Friend Imagination, what 
 Place will you allot for my Win- 
 ter's Habitation, when I have a 
 mind to retire from the Hurry of the 
 Town, and review the Aftions of every 
 paffing Day ? 
 
 A little Hermitage, on the Eaftern Side 
 of the higheft Mountain, in the Kingdom 
 of Katafcopia *. 
 
 * Contemplation. 
 
 B 2 Order
 
 4 DIALOGUE I. 
 
 Order a Set of Ideas to be put to your 
 rapid Chariot, and tranfport me thither as 
 foon as you pleafe ; for I am already 
 charmed with the Propofal. 
 
 A winding Path leads you by an imper- 
 ceptible Afcent, through Groves of Lau- 
 rels, Bays, Pines, Oaks, Cedars, Myrtles, 
 and all Kinds of beautiful Ever-greens, 
 with which the Sides of the Mountains are 
 eternally covered, to an Apartment cut 
 out in the Subflance of the Rock, and 
 confifting of two Rooms. You enter into 
 the firft, through an Arch hewn out, with- 
 out much Art ; and whofe only Ornaments 
 are the Ivy, with which it is almoft entirely 
 overgrown, and the chryftalline Ificles, 
 which Winter hangs on the Inequalities of 
 its Surface. The only Light that it re- 
 ceives, is through this Arch : and the 
 Plainnefs of the Furniture is anfwerable to 
 that of the Building. The Floor is co- 
 vered with a Kind of Mofs, that is always 
 dry : and a Couch of the fame goes round 
 the Room. On the right Side, at the fur- 
 ther
 
 DIALOGUE I. 5 
 
 ther End, is a little Stone-Table, with the 
 Hermit's ufual Furniture, a Book, a Skull, 
 an Hour-Glafs, and a Lamp. Near the 
 Mouth of the Cave is a Telefcope : and 
 en the left Side, a fmall Door opens into 
 a little fquare Apartment, formed to in- 
 dulge lefs melancholy Meditations. Op- 
 pofire to the Entrance, are Shelves filled 
 with Books, of a ferious and moral Na- 
 ture, that take up one Side of the Room. 
 A Bed of plain white Dimity, with two 
 Chairs of the fame, is oppofite to the 
 Chimney, where a cheerful Wood Fire is 
 continually blazing. Near the Fire is 
 placed a little Table, and a low Seat, more 
 for Convenience, than Show; and the Walls 
 are covered with a white Paper, over which, 
 a Vine feems to fpread its leafy Shade. 
 
 You have defcribed this Retirement to 
 my Wifli. A mere Hermitage would be 
 too gloomy for a conftant Dwelling. And 
 yet there are many Hours in which the 
 Solemnity of the outward Cell, with the 
 Moon fhining into it, and faintly gleaming 
 63 on
 
 6 DIALOGUE I. 
 
 on its melancholy Furniture, would fuit 
 my Turn of Thought, better than the 
 brighteit Sun, glittering on the gayeft 
 Scenes, 
 
 I have not yet mentioned to you the 
 moft agreeable Circumftance of the out- 
 ward Cell, its delightful and extenfive 
 View. 
 
 Is not that obftructed by the Groves of 
 Ever-greens, through which you afcend, to 
 this Seat of calm Wifdom ? 
 
 It is placed high enough for the Specta- 
 tor to look over their venerable Tops, and 
 fee the Current of Life, a wide extended 
 Ocean, gliding fwiftly along, at the Foot 
 of the Mountain. Beyond it, but half 
 concealed in Woods, lie the happy Iflands, 
 and the bleak and doleful Regions, where 
 all that infinite Number of Barks, that 
 cover this immenfe Ocean, fooner or later 
 diflodge their weary Paffengers. The Ob- 
 fervations, you will make, from this Emi- 
 nence,
 
 DIALOGUE I. 7 
 
 nence, on the Courfe of the Sea, the va- 
 rious Rocks and Whirlpools, that make 
 
 its Paflage dangerous ; the Condudt of the 
 Pilots,, and the Behaviour of the Paffen- 
 gers, will give you important Inftrudions, 
 for the Guidance of your own Bark. You 
 may even fee your own : and by a timely 
 Obfervance, avoid every Danger, thac 
 threatens it, and improve every favourable- 
 Gale, to the beft Advantage. 
 
 64; D I A- 

 
 DIALOGUE II. 
 
 W 
 
 HAT have you done, this Sum- 
 mer? 
 
 Rode, and laughed, and fretted. 
 What did you intend to do ? 
 
 To learn Geography, Mathematics, 
 Decimal Fractions and good Humour: to 
 work a Screen, draw Copies of two or three 
 fine Prinrs, and read Abundance of Hif- 
 tory : to improve my Memory, and reftrain 
 my Fancy : to lay out my Time to the bed 
 Advantage : to be happy myfelf, and make 
 every Body elfe fo. To read Voltaire's 
 Newton, Whifton's Euclid, and Tillotfon's 
 Sermons. 
 
 Have
 
 D I A I/O G U E II. 9 
 Have you read nothing ? 
 
 Yes : fome of the Sermons , Mrs. 
 Rowe's Works , the Tale of a Tub - 3 * 
 Book of Dr. Watts's ; L'Hiftoire du Ciel - y 
 Milton, and Abundance of Plays and idle 
 Books. 
 
 Do you remember nothing of your Geo- 
 graphy ? 
 
 Not fo much as what belongs toEngland, 
 
 Mathematics 
 
 Turn my Head. 
 
 And what is your fine Head good for ? 
 
 To wear a Pair of Bruflel's Lappet?, or 
 fpin out extravagant Imaginations and 
 Fancies. 
 
 How does your Arithmetic go on ? 
 
 I have bought one of the belt Books on* 
 the Subject. 
 
 B 5 And
 
 io D I A L O G U E II. 
 
 And ftudied it ? 
 
 O no : I have not read a Page, in it. 
 
 This is the Way too, in which you ftudy 
 natural Hiftory ? 
 
 Yes : I have bought Reaumur's Works, 
 and let them on my Shelves. 
 
 Well : but are you good humoured ? 
 
 O yes : mightily fo, when I am pleafed 
 and entertained. 
 
 But a Trifle puts you out of Humour ? 
 
 Yes, perhaps it does : but then, I am ten 
 Times more out of Humour with myfelf 
 than with other People. 
 
 So that, upon the whole, you are fatif- 
 fied with your Temper ? 
 
 Very tolerably, as the World goes ? 
 
 And
 
 DIALOGUE II. ii 
 
 And do you not think yourfelf at all 
 vain ? 
 
 I do not think, what is commonly called 
 Vanity, fo terrible a Thing, as it is gene- 
 rally reckoned. 
 
 What do you mean by this ?- 
 
 I mean, that if it were pofTible, People 
 ought to be as well acquainted with their 
 own Characters, at leaft< as with thofe of 
 other Perfonsj and therefore, ought to 
 know their good Qualities, as well as their 
 Faults. 
 
 This, in icfelf, is not Vanity: but it is 
 the ready Path to it. 
 
 How fo ? 
 
 If you were {landing on a high Hill, 
 from whence you had two very different 
 Views, one adorned with all that can make 
 a Landfcape beautiful ; the other leading 
 your Eye through barren Moors, dreary 
 Gaverns, and frightful Precipices : which 
 R 6 da
 
 ii D I ALO G U E II. 
 
 do you think you fhould fpend moft Titne 
 in looking at ? 
 
 The Anfwer is a very clear one : If I 
 had no Intereft in either of the Views, I 
 fhould admire the fine Landfcape, and per- 
 haps take a Copy of it. 
 
 "Well, but fuppofe them both in your 
 own Eftate ? You feem to think that would 
 make fome Difference, in your Way of 
 Proceeding. 
 
 Yes to be fure, a very great one. In that 
 Cafe, I fhould fpend the greateft Part of 
 my Time in confidering, by what Methods 
 I could level the Precipices, render the 
 barren Heaths fruitful, and make that Part 
 of my Eftate as ufeful and delightful as 
 the other : but dill it would be neceffary 
 to obferve the other Profpeft, for this very 
 Purpofe of imitating it. 
 
 If you had not added this laft Reafon 
 for looking at the gay Sfde of the View, 
 you had proved, what was far from your 
 
 Inten-
 
 D I ALO G U E II. 13 
 
 Intention, that it is our Faults, and not 
 our Perfections, which ought to claim our 
 Attention. 
 
 There are twenty Reafons for this, be- 
 ficles that, which I mentioned. To con- 
 tinue your Allegory : with what Spirit do 
 you think, it would be poflible for a Man 
 to fet about fo difficult a Work, as thofe 
 Improvements muft be, if he did not 
 know, that he had an Eftate fufficient to 
 fupport the Expence, and an agreeable 
 Place to retire to, when he was wearied 
 with his lefs pleafing Employment? 
 
 This is but one of the twenty. 
 
 But it is ftrong enough to be equal to 
 half a Score of lefs Weight. However, 
 you (hall have another 
 
 There is no Need of it. I am fenfible 
 that a Man ought to know the true Value 
 of what he pofTefies, both that he may 
 enjoy it, with due Gratitude, to the Giver, 
 and that he may take fufficient Care, to 
 
 preferve
 
 14 DIALOGUE II. 
 
 preferve it at lead, and perhaps to improve 
 it ftill further. But when this is granted, 
 you will allow me, that it is very difagree- 
 able for a rich Man, to be always boafting 
 of the Greatnefs of his Eftate, and the 
 Magnificence of his Palaces. . 
 
 Moft certainly.' Nor is it lefs difguftful 
 to hear a Man, who is well known to all 
 the World to have a very confiderable 
 Fortune, always complaining of his Po- 
 verty, and, under a feigned Humility, con- 
 cealing the moft hateful Pride. 
 
 So that, upon the whole, all Extremes 
 ought to be avoided, even though, fome- 
 times, they may feem to border upon a 
 Virtue. 
 
 This is the righteft Conclufion in the 
 World : but the Misfortune is, that it is 
 no new Difcovery of ours, but has been 
 the allowed, and wife Precept of all Ages. 
 
 That
 
 DIALOGUE II. 15 
 
 That does not make it at all the lefs va- 
 luable to us. Do not you think, we fhould 
 be much happier in being able to follow 
 the Maxim, than in being able to give it. 
 
 I fhould with to be capable of both. 
 Pray, my dear, how old are you ? 
 Eighteen lad May. 
 
 You have lived eighteen Years in the 
 World, you fay : pray may I enquire what 
 you have done in all that Time ? 
 
 My Life has not, as yet, been one of 
 much Action. I have been chiefly em- 
 ployed in laying in Provifion of Knowledge 
 and Sentiments, for future Years. 
 
 Well : Shall I examine your Magazine ? 
 You will have Occafion for it all, and 
 ought to have it chofen, with the utmoft 
 Care. 
 
 Which
 
 16 D I ALO G U E II. 
 
 Which will you look into firft, my Heart 
 or my Memory ? Here are the Keys of 
 both. 
 
 Your Memory, is next at Hand. It is a 
 pretty Cabinet, and not of the fmalleft 
 Size : but I have feen a Japan Cabinet 
 kept in much better Order, though it was 
 filled only with Shells. 
 
 I wifh you would help me to fet the 
 Drawers a little in order. What do you 
 meet with in the firft ? 
 
 Fragments of all Sorts and Kinds. 
 Truly I think it is like a Mufeum : there 
 are forne valuable Things in it, but they 
 
 are almoft hid amongft mere Trafh. 1 
 
 need look no further. I perceive already, 
 that your Memory is fo idly filled, that 
 your Wifh of giving wife Maxims, is a 
 very wild one. So I will conclude my 
 Dear, with advifing you, to be very well 
 contented, if you can but follow thofe of 
 other People. 
 
 DI A-
 
 [ '7] 
 
 DIALOGUE III. 
 
 COME to my Afliftance, my Friend, 
 my Advifer. I feel myfelf oppreft 
 and low-fpirited, to the greateft Degree, 
 all my Thoughts have a difagreeable 
 Turn : my Employments feem burthen- 
 fome, and my Amufements infipid. A 
 Moment's ferious Converfation with you, 
 feems the only Thing that is likely to give 
 me Relief, 
 
 I mould littke have thought, that your 
 Situation in Life required Relief, or 
 wanted any Afliftance, to make you fenfible 
 of its Agreeablenefs. 
 
 I know, that I have every Reafon, ex- 
 cept that which arifes from Merit, to think 
 myielf the happieft Creature in the World : 
 
 and
 
 i8 DIALOGUE III. 
 
 and nobody can be more fully and more- 
 gratefully fenfible of it than I am : nor is 
 it my Reafon, that complains. - 
 
 It is not then your Situation in Life,, 
 that finks your Spirits. 
 
 It is the very Situation, that anfwers 
 Gowley's Wim, and mine : nor would I 
 change with the greateft Princefs. 
 
 Nor is it the Want of Friends to make 
 that Situation agreeable. 
 
 In this Refpect you know, that no 
 Mortal was ever fo remarkably happy as I 
 am. No Body had ever, I believe, the 
 Advantage of fuch amiable Examples of 
 affectionate Care, guided by fuch excellent 
 Senfe and Goodnefs. I feel too much upon 
 this Article to exprefs it at all well : and 
 my Thoughts flow in fo fad, that I cannot 
 find Words for them. But I was going to 
 add, that nobody ever wanted this Ad- 
 vantage
 
 DIALOGUE III. 19 
 
 vantage Ib much as I do, whofe too eafy 
 Temper might, perhaps infenfibly, follow 
 a bad Example, if Fortune had thrown it 
 in my Way. But however that be, of this 
 I am fure, that never was a Mind fo help- 
 lels, fo diftrefled as mine would be, if it 
 had been left in this wide World, without 
 Guides, who poflefs all my Love and Con- 
 fidence. 
 
 Is it bad Health, then, that prevents 
 your enjoying the Happinefs, that feems 
 to attend on all your 
 
 Nothing lefs : I never knew a painful 
 Illnefs. My Sleeps are fweet, and unin- 
 terrupted and thofe flight Diforders > to 
 which I am fometimes liable, only ferve to 
 make me fenfible of the Value of the 
 great Share of Health and Eafe, which I 
 for the moft part enjoy : and to mow me 
 the moft engaging Tnftances of Goodnefs, 
 in thofe about me. I fpeak this fo feri- 
 oufly, that I believe I fcarce ever had a 
 
 Fever
 
 20 DIALOGUE III. 
 Fever or a Cough in my Life, that did not 
 occafion me more Pleafure than Uneafmefs: 
 and the Hours of Retirement they have 
 afforded me, are none of the leal! Obli- 
 gations which I have to them. 
 
 DIA-
 
 [ 21 ] 
 
 DIALOGUE IV. 
 
 "TTT H A T is Vanity ? 
 
 Afk your own Heart. 
 And is it very blameable ? 
 
 It deftroys all the Merit of every Thing 
 that is good : and all the Grace of every 
 T.Ymg that is amiable. 
 
 But may not one love to be com- 
 mended ? 
 
 According as the Commendation is. 
 
 Methinks, now, it would be more Va- 
 nity to be fo Self-fufficient, as not to wifh 
 the Suffrages of good and wife People, to 
 make one fatisfied, that ones Conduct is 
 right. 
 
 But
 
 22 DIALOGUE IV. 
 
 But what can you fay for the Pleafure, 
 you feel upon being commended for Tri- 
 fles, or approved by idle People ? 
 
 Why, it is but common good Nature to 
 wifli to pleafe every Body, without Excep- 
 tion, fo far as it may innocently be done. 
 
 Yet Favour, you know, is deceitful. 
 And fo far for Trifles : and in Things 
 moft important, remember the ftrict and 
 folemn Charge, that we do not our good 
 Actions before Men, to be feen of them. 
 
 Yet we are as ftrictly charged to let our 
 Light fhine before them, and to fet them 
 a good Example for the Honour of Re- 
 ligion. 
 
 Moft true*. The golden Medium mud 
 be found, nice as it is to hit, our higheft In- 
 tereft, our all depends upon it. If Praife 
 be our Aim, Praife, the poor Praife of 
 wretched Men (hall be our barren Re- 
 ward. Yet if timoroufly we hide our one 
 
 5 Talent
 
 DIALOGUE IV. 23 
 
 Talent in a Napkin, even that fhall be 
 taken away from us. 
 
 How dreadful the Thoughts of miffing 
 that only Approbation, which itfhould be 
 the Bufmefs 'of our Life to deferve ! No 
 natural Defire of the Friendfhip and Good- 
 will of our Fellow-Creatures can ftand in 
 Competition with that Fear. 
 
 Happy the cloyftered Life, where the 
 World is quite Ihut out : and Piety and 
 Virtue are exercifed in Solitude and Silence 
 without any vifible Eye to obferve them ! 
 
 That fnre is an Extreme, the Extreme, 
 of the buried Talent. Let me tell you 
 what I think, muft be the only Rule to 
 go by. 
 
 Oh tell it : no Sound can be fo wel- 
 come. 
 
 The Rule of Duty. Attend folely to 
 that and let all Self-reflections alone. 
 
 How!
 
 24 DIALOGUE IV. 
 
 How ! never examine my Conduct ? 
 Never call my Follies to account ? 
 
 Yes : but have you never read (with 
 Regard to Virtues) of " forgetting the 
 " Things that are behind, and ever prefling 
 " forward ?" 
 
 Well : yet in an Hour of Sicknefs, Ad- 
 verfity, Diftrefs, may no glad Hope from 
 the Remembrance of having always acted 
 from a fincere right Intention, however 
 imperfectly purfued, caft its reviving Ray 
 athwart the Gloom ? 
 
 The Comforts of a good Confcience are 
 no Vanity. There is them an important 
 Reality. But Cordials, r in the Day of 
 Health, are Poifons. 
 
 Then be particular : what is this Rule of 
 Duty ? 
 
 Whatever the Exigence of the prefent 
 Circumftance, mod immediately and clearly 
 
 demands.
 
 DIALOGUE IV. 5 
 
 demands. Purfue always one firaic 
 Path, \vithout ever ftepping out of the 
 Way, either to attract Obfervation, or to 
 avoid it. 
 
 What is the Rule in Cafes of Charity ? 
 
 Chufe to do Good in the mod private 
 Manner, whenever that is a Matter of 
 Choice. But as this is, in many Cafes, 
 quite impofiible, do as quietly as you can 
 nil the Good, that is incumbent on you : 
 that is, all the Good you are capable of, in 
 your Station, and without interfering, where 
 you abfolutely ought not to interfere. If 
 you meet with Commendation for it, be if 
 pofiible fo much the more humble : as 
 knowing thofe Seeds of Vanity to be in 
 you, that may-, upon the flighted Praife, 
 have fuch a fad Effect, as to render the belt 
 you have done, lefs chart nothing. 
 
 Alas, it is terrifying to confider, how 
 many Perlbns have fallen, from not in- 
 confiderable Advancement in Goodnefs, 
 
 VOL. II. C through
 
 26 DIALOGUE IV. 
 
 through mere Prefumption, and Self-opi- 
 nion ! And yet can one help wifhing to 
 pleafe ? 
 
 No certainly : there would be fometliing 
 favage in a contrary Difpofition. But then, 
 look to it, that this Defire be free from Va- 
 nity. It may be quite fo. 
 
 Can it be without fome Self-compla- 
 cence in its Gratification ? 
 
 It cannot be without fome Senfe of Plea- 
 fure : but from what ? Self, in every one of 
 us human Creatures, is the wretchedeft, 
 the pooreft of Beings. The Pleafure re- 
 iults from a grateful Reflection on the 
 l r ulnefs and Bounty of that gracious Be- 
 ing, whofe Gift alone is every thing, that 
 can give us Delight, with every Capacity 
 of tailing it. 
 
 In this View then, we may -innocently 
 defire, that his Gifts of fome good Qua- 
 lities to us, ihould be the Inftruments of 
 
 con-
 
 DIALOGUE IV. 27 
 
 conveying his Gifc alfo of fome Benefit or 
 Pleafure to our Fellow-Creatures ; and that 
 in Return, they fhould, in a lower De- 
 gree, be pleafed with us. 
 
 I think fo indeed. 
 
 But what fay you to the Duty of fetting 
 a good Example, and contributing, fo far 
 as private Perfons can, to keep Virtue and 
 Religion in Countenance ? 
 
 It is furely a very important one. But 
 it requires a daily, hourly Guard over the 
 Heart, to fee that no fecret Vanity poifons 
 
 the good Intention. 
 
 . 
 
 And what is to be faid of Affability, 
 Good-Humour, eafy Behaviour, and en- 
 deavouring to make ourfelves agreeable? 
 
 o o 
 
 Let but your whole Behaviour flow uni- 
 formly from one fixed Principle of Duty, 
 and you may always be fecure. Be there- 
 fore equally affable to all Kinds of People : 
 C 2 ftudy
 
 28 DIALOGUE IV. 
 
 fludy to pleafe even thofe who are far from 
 pleafing you : make yourfeif agreeable to 
 thofe, whofe Praife you are fure you do 
 not feek. Study to oblige the Heavy, the 
 Low, the Tedious ; and in whatever Com- 
 pany you are, never aim at what is called 
 Shining. Do all this, and you may very 
 allowably drive to pleafe in agreeable Com- 
 pany too : and may be fatisfied, you act 
 from fociabk good Humour, and not from 
 Vanity. 
 
 But tell me : is it poffible to fee one's 
 ft: If, in the right, "and another in the 
 wrong, without feeling a little Superio- 
 rity ? 
 
 Yes : if you will confider the Matter a 
 little coolly over, you will fee it to be very 
 poflible to adhere to your own better Judg- 
 ment, without the leaft Triumph, and in- 
 deed with the trueft Humility. 
 
 Inftrud me, I befeech you. 
 
 Confider
 
 DIALOGUE IV. 29 
 
 ConGder fird, this very Inclination to 
 be ovvTi'-pkalcd, is a very dangerous 
 Wcv.knds : One dv.it you are afhamed to 
 own, fince any Expreffions of Self-Efteem 
 are contrary to all Rules of true Politenefs; 
 and true Politenefs has its Foundation in 
 the Nature of Things. Therefore, when- 
 ever you feel any Sentiment, that you 
 ihould be alhamed to exprefs, be afiured 
 that you ought equally to be afhacned of 
 indulging it in Silence. The firft Emotions 
 of the Mind arc, indeed, in fome Men- 
 fure, involuntary : the giving Encourage- 
 ment to them is all, for which we fnall be 
 accountable, and the Thought may very 
 commendably pafs through the Mind, that 
 becomes faulty if it dwells there. Self- 
 Applaufe of any Thing ever fo Praife- 
 worthy is like Orpheus conducting Eury- 
 dice. It muft needs accompany it : but if 
 the Pleafure of looking back and admi- 
 ring be indulged, the fair frail Object va- 
 nifhes into nothing. 
 
 So:
 
 5 o DIALOGUE IV. 
 
 So : While you take Breath after that 
 Simile, let me afk a few more Quefti- 
 ons. 
 
 I have not done with the laft, yet. You 
 will fay, How can we be even the more 
 humble for feeing other People's Faults ? 
 
 Not improbably. 
 
 "Why : Are we not Partakers of the felf- 
 fame erring Nature ? Are not we as liable 
 to err as they ? 
 
 I 
 
 No : Surely there is a Difference be- 
 tween Good and Bad, Knowing and Igno- 
 rant, Prudent and Rafh. 
 
 Is there ? Well : what do you imagine 
 then of our firft Parents, formed in the 
 higheft Perfection of uncorrupted Nature, 
 converfant daily with celeftial Vifitors, 
 jind by them inftructed ? 
 
 I fee 
 
 ;?ra
 
 DIALOGUE IV. 31 
 
 I fee your Inference, and it is ftrikingty 
 juft. They fell. What then are we ? 
 Yet we in this blefied Period of the World, 
 in this its laft two thoufand Years, have 
 higher Advantages, and furer Supports, 
 and ftronger Affiftances. 
 
 Mod true. But are thefe to make us 
 vain, or to make us humble ? 
 
 Humble, I own it. We have nothing, 
 that we can call our own : Nothing that 
 Pride and Self-Conceit may not forfeit : 
 and the greater our Advantages, the more 
 terrifying is the Poflibility of lofing them. 
 
 Reflect, in every Hiftory you read, what 
 Impreflion it leaves on you of the Grofs of 
 Mankind. Then think, all thefe Pafiions, 
 all thefe WeaknefTes are originally, more 
 or lefs in every one of us. If you were 
 ftill liable to the Infection of the Small- 
 Pcx, and were hourly expofed to it in a 
 Town, where it raged among almoft all 
 the Inhabitants, with what Kind of Senti- 
 C 4 ments
 
 52 DIALOGUE IV. 
 ments fhould you fee them labouring under 
 all its dreadful Circumftances, and what 
 Kirfd of Triumph and Self- Approbation 
 fhould you feel, from your own high 
 Health, and fmooth Complexion ? 
 
 I fhould only, with Fear and Trembling, 
 double my Caution to preferve them, if 
 pofilble. 
 
 And were you fafe got through the 111-, 
 nefs, how ftrong would be your Sympathy 
 with thofe yet fuffering ? 
 
 Yet might I not* and ought I not to pre- 
 fcribe to them fuch Methods of Cure, or 
 even of prefent Relief and Eafe, as I had 
 experienced to be moft fuccefsful ? 
 
 Yes : but would the Pratfe be your's, 
 or your Phyfician's? 
 
 All Characters upon Record are not thus 
 terrifying. We partake the fame Nature 
 with Saints and Heroes. 
 
 Can
 
 DIALOGUE IV. 33 
 
 Can that raife any Vanity ? A noble and 
 an honeft Pride it may : a glorious, a lau- 
 dable Ambition to imitate their Virtues. 
 But to fee others of our own Nature 
 mounted up fo high, our Eye can fcarcely 
 follow them, is furely to us, poor dull and 
 weak Creatures, of fhort Sight and feeble 
 Pinion, mortifying enough. 
 
 You teach me the bed Leffbn, that can 
 be learned from Hiftory, a deep, a prac- 
 tical, an unfeigned Humility. Society with 
 all its various Scenes will teach the fame : 
 and all thofe Things, which if Vanity en- 
 grofs us, minifter fo abundantly to Self- 
 Conceit, Contempt, Difdain, and every 
 evil Difpofition of the Heart, will, if PIu- 
 mility be our Direclrefs, heighten in us 
 every right Affection. Our Hearts will 
 overflow with Gratitude to our fupreme 
 Benefactor, and pour themfelves out in the 
 moft earneft Dffires of his continual Af- 
 fiftance and Protection. They will melt 
 with the kindeft Ccmmiferation to our er- 
 ring Fcllow-Creatcres : and they will, 
 C 5 without
 
 3 4 DIALOGUE IV. 
 
 without forming one ambitious Scheme, be 
 moft happily and meekly content with 
 whatever Situation Providence allots us. 
 
 This Difpofition of Humility being thus 
 valuable, let me add one Confideration 
 more, which may help to confirm it, and 
 may teach us to avoid that great Danger it 
 incurs, from our knowing ourfelves at any 
 Time in the right. The more ftrong we 
 are in our Opinion, the more lively our 
 Diflike is of the oppofite Error, Fault or 
 Foily, the more humbled we fhould be at 
 the Thought, (which in general is a cer- 
 tain Fact, though we are blind perhaps as 
 to the Particulars) that however right we 
 are in ibis Inflance, in fome others, too 
 probably in very many others, we are 
 quite as much in the wrong, as thofe we 
 now defpife and blame. Error is juft as 
 ugly in us, as in them : If our Senfe of 
 it be flronger, uglier ftill and more unpar- 
 donable. And yet how many have fallen 
 themfelves into the very Faults, they- moft 
 violently condemned ? 
 
 /; How
 
 DIALOGUE IV. 35 
 
 How true is all this ! Let me add to it 
 a Thought, that juft now rifes to my Mind, 
 or rather a whole Group. 
 
 It is true, the Subject is inexhauftible : 
 but our Time you know was limited, and 
 the Clock is juft ftriking. 
 
 C6 DIA-
 
 DIALOGUE V. 
 
 L IS AURA was complaining one Day 
 to Paulina, that Happinefs was no 
 where to be found. How do you con- 
 trive, faid (he, to be fo cheerful and eafy, 
 ib conftantly contented in your Appear- 
 ance ? When, I am convinced, that at 
 the Bottom, you muft have fome lurking 
 Difiatisfaflion, fome concealed Uneafinefs, 
 that fecretly diffufes its Venom, over your 
 Enjoyments ? 
 
 It is true, faid Paulina, my Hiftory is 
 pretty extraordinary, and my Life has 
 been croft by a thoufand Accidents, that 
 Reafon and Religion apart, would make 
 my Happinefs appear doubtful enough. 
 But prithee, Lifaura, how do you co.'ne to 
 lufpeft ir, v/ho, I am perfuaded, know 
 
 little
 
 D.I ALO G U E V, 37 
 
 little . of my real Story, and are young 
 enough to judge of the Sincerity of other 
 People's Appearance, by your own. 
 
 Why, it is from that very Caufe, you 
 name, replied Lifaura. In all the Bloom 
 of Health and Youth, in all the Eafe of 
 Situation imaginable, I ftill perceive, a 
 Difcontent, that preys upon my Heart. 
 Sometimes, I am anxious for the long Fu- 
 turity, even of common Life, that lies be- 
 fore me , that lies, like a wild unknown 
 and barren Plain, wrapt up in thick Fogs 
 of Uncertainty. Sometimes, I lofe my- 
 ielf in melancholy Reflections on the pail. 
 My Cares, and Attentions, which then fo 
 bufily engaged me, feem now fuch a Heap 
 of Impertinences, and Follies, that I ficken 
 at them, and at myfelf. And then, what a 
 ftrong Prefumpuon do they give one, even 
 againft thofe of the prefent Hour ! That 
 prefent Hour, how vain is it, how un- 
 eafy, what a very Trifle will entirely four 
 it ! With all this, any Body that confi- 
 dered my Situation, in Life, would pro- 
 nounce
 
 3# DIALOGUE V. 
 
 nounce me happy. How then, can I be 
 fecure of the Happinefs of any other 
 Perfon ? 
 
 Shall I tell you, anfwered Paulina, why 
 you are not fure of your own ? 
 
 Oh moft willingly, cried Lifaura. 
 
 Well then, refumed Paulina but come 
 ray Dear, tell me a little of the AfTembly 
 you were at, laft Week. 
 
 The Tranfition is a little hafty, faid Li- 
 faura, fmiling. 
 
 
 No matter for that, you will lofe no- 
 thing by it, in the End : perhaps I may 
 give you a more ftudied Dilcourfe in the 
 Afternoon. 
 
 Well then, what can I tell you, but that 
 I was fatigued to the greateft Degree ; 
 and after long Expectation, and five Hours 
 vain Purfuit of Amufement, came Home, 
 at lad,, utterly diflatisfied. 
 
 Amufe-
 
 DIALOGUE V, 39 
 
 Amufement ? That is a very general 
 Word : in what Shape did you think, that 
 it was to appear to you ? 
 
 Lifaura coloured, and Paulina went on. 
 
 Your Miftake, dear Lifaura, in Life, is 
 the very fame, that it was in this Aflem- 
 bly, and will lead you into the fame difla- 
 tisfied Satiety. You, not you only, but 
 moft young People, form to yourfelf a ge- 
 neral and vague Idea of Happinefs, which, 
 becaufe it is uncertain, in its Being, is as 
 variable as your Temper : So that when- 
 ever, you meet with any Thing, that does 
 not exactly fuit the prefent Humour, you 
 imagine, you have mified of Happinefs : 
 and fo indeed you have , but quite in a- 
 different Way. The perfect Idea of Hap- 
 pinefs, belongs to another World : as fuch 
 it is always to be kept in View, and therein 
 confifts the Point of human Happinefs, 
 which no Viciffitudes of human Affairs 
 can alter, 
 
 But
 
 40 DIALOGUE V. 
 
 But human Happinefs has feparate from 
 this, a. very real Exiftence, and has dif- 
 tinguifhing Charafteriftics of its own. One 
 of thefe is Imperfection : and a neceflary 
 one it is to be known. Our Bufinefs, in 
 this World was not to fit down, and be 
 fatisfied, but to rub on through many Dif- 
 ficulties, and through many Duties, with 
 iuft Accommodations enough to fupport 
 us among them, in a cheerful Frame of 
 Mind : fuch a cheerful and eafy Frame of 
 Mind, as is at all Times cifpofed to relifh 
 the Beauties of Nature, and the Comforts 
 of Society, though not enough attached to 
 them, to make the parting difficult. 
 
 To form any other Notion of Happi- 
 nefs than this, is a Folly that will punifti 
 itfelf. Duty excepted, all the Concerns of 
 human Life are of flight Importance : and 
 when once we have pofTeffed our Minds of 
 that Belief, all thofe myfterious Phi-proms, 
 that gave us fuch real Anxiety, will im- 
 mediately difappear. The Opinion of 
 the World, Figure, Obfcurity, Poverty, 
 
 Wealth,
 
 DIAL O G U E V. 41 
 
 Wealth, Contempt, Fear, Pain, Affliction,. 
 will appear to be momentary Concerns, and 
 therefore little worth long Hours of feri- 
 ous Thought. Yet all thefe Things are 
 worth fo much, that ju ft as far as Reafon 
 directs us, it is Matter of Duty to purfue, 
 or avoid them. But when Choice has no- 
 thing to do, Content is every Thing. Con- 
 tent did I fay ? I fnould have added, Gra- 
 titude i for much indeed, the State even 
 of this Work; cieferves. - For that, how- 
 ever, I will refer you to Dr. Barrow, 
 lie lies upon my Table, above Stairs : 
 and has fomethiog in his Stile fo fweet, fo. 
 (hong and animated, that I cannot recom- 
 mend you to a better Companion. 
 
 I have often been charmed with him at 
 Home, replied Lifaura, and, as fond as 
 you fee me of idle Amufement, I am not 
 infenfible to the Excellencies of fo grave 
 an Author. I have been pleafed to hear 
 very good Judges call him the Englifh 
 Demofther.es : and I have felt a fecret 
 
 Delight
 
 42 D I A L O G U E V. 
 
 Delight in hearing applied to this noble 
 Orator, who (in Spite of thofe peculiar 
 Expreflions, which the Copioufnefs of his 
 Diction leems to call in, from all Parts), 
 has fo often warmed me with Sentiments 
 unknown before, what ^Longinus fays of 
 the other, That one might as well face 
 the dazzling Lightening, as ftand againft 
 
 the Force of his Eloquence. Blefs me, 
 
 how do I run on ! You were teaching me, 
 to be happy, purfue the Leftbn. I have 
 done. 
 
 I'll tell you then, my dear Lifaura : at- 
 tend to me. Convinced by Reafon and 
 Religion, that the Evils of Life are mere 
 Phantoms, prepare yourfelf with Refigna- 
 tion, to fubmit to them, with Conftancy 
 to fupport them. To lay in fuch a Stock, 
 of Strength, you muft call in the Afiift- 
 ance of many a leifure Hour, of many a 
 ferious Thought, of many an earneft Re- 
 folution. By thefe Means, all will grow 
 clear in your own Mind : Reflection will 
 
 become-
 
 DIALOGUE V. 43 
 
 become your beft Friend, and moft agree- 
 able Companion, and whatever Deftiny 
 attends you, you will acquiefce in it with 
 Pleafnre. 
 
 But your Misfortune is that of a fplene- 
 tic Conftitution : a Day's flight Diforder, 
 a heavier Temperament of the Air imme- 
 diately affects you fo, as to alter, to your 
 Fancy, the whole Frame of Nature. Fix 
 it well in your Mind, that thefe gloomy 
 Imaginations are deceitful. The bountiful 
 Creator was not miftaken, when pleafed 
 with his completed Work, he declared that 
 " All was good." The Scheme of Pro- 
 vidence and Nature is infinitely fo , and 
 its Contemplation is an inexhauftible 
 Source of Delight. Life has its gloomy 
 Scenes, but to the Good, they only prove 
 an awful Exercife of Duty fnpported, all 
 the while, by the Aflurance of Reward. 
 Life has its cheerful Moments too, which, 
 to the Good no Sorrow can embitter. Thus 
 whilft the Pleafures of Religion, of Bene- 
 
 volence
 
 44 DIALOGUE V. 
 
 volence, of Friend (hip, of Content, of 
 Gratitude, of every innocent Gaiety, of 
 free Society, of lively Minh, of Health, 
 and all thofe infinite Objects of Delight, 
 which fmiling Jsature offers us-, who'll 
 
 thefe are real and dibftantial Eniovments, 
 
 j. ' 
 
 that 111, which v.e might fer>% fiom the 
 Deprivation cf ib'iie of them, and even of 
 Life itfeif, ;s proved to be a mere imagi- 
 nary Terror. Pfiis, we" have numberlefs 
 Opport;. . jf knowing. But^ blinded 
 by Pr.iT , c.r weakened by Conftitution, 
 We perpetually run into the common Mif- 
 take. We form, to ourfelves, fuch a falfe 
 Idea of human Happinefs, that when we 
 might behold, and be favoured by the 
 Goddefs herfeU", we fly from her, in a 
 Fright, becaufe fhe is not adorned juft 
 with thole Trappings, in which our Fancy 
 had dreft her out. Reftlefs we ftill ftift 
 from Place to Place, to find what we do 
 not know, when we fee it : and reftlefs we 
 fhall ever be, if for a Fit of the Spleen, 
 or an nnanfwered Wifh, we imagine, that 
 
 a juft
 
 DIALOGUE V. 45 
 
 a juft Degree of Happinefs is not within 
 every Body's Reach. My dear Lifaura, 
 if you have any Senfe of Gratitude to that 
 Providence, which formed you for Hap- 
 pinefs, avoid this gloomy ErYor. Let re- 
 fined Reafon fix your Judgment, and then, 
 let common Senfe direct your Practice. 
 
 OCCA-
 
 [46] 
 
 OCCASIONAL THOUGHTS. 
 
 T 
 
 ALKING over idle Vexations, only 
 make them worfe. 
 
 Every Day mould be fingle, unconnected 
 with the reft, and fo bear only the Weight 
 of its own Vexations. 
 
 Never make a Groupe of them, nor look 
 backwards or forwards on a Series of difa- 
 greeable Days : but be always content to 
 make the beft of the prefent. 
 
 Every Day try to do what you can, and 
 try in earneft, and with Spirit. Scorn to 
 be difcouraged : and if one Scheme fails, 
 form another, as faft as a Spider does 
 Webs. But never be anxious or uneafy : 
 and if the Day be very unpropitious, and 
 
 nothing
 
 OCCASIONAL THOUGHTS. 47 
 nothing will do, even be contented, and 
 eafy, and cheerful, as having done the 
 belt you could. For, perpetually trying 
 and aiming to do proper Things, keeps up 
 the Spirit of Action, which is the impor- 
 tant Point, and preferves you from the 
 Danger of falling into heartlefs Indolence, 
 to the full as well as if you really did 
 them : and as for the particular Things 
 themfelves, it is not a Pin matter. But 
 always carry an eafy fmiling Look, and 
 take nothing to Heart. 
 
 There is fcarcely any Thing which a 
 fincere Endeavour directed by the hearty 
 Conviction of real Duty, will not in Time 
 accomplifh : fince an Endeavour fo di- 
 rected will be accompanied by perfevering 
 humble Prayer : and to perfevering Prayer 
 joined with fincere Endeavours, Succefs is 
 infallibly promifed. 
 
 Confidering Life in its great and im- 
 portant View as the Probation for a Paf- 
 fage to Eternity and this is thejuftand 
 
 true
 
 48 OCCASIONAL THOUGHTS. 
 true Way of confidering it of what Sig- 
 nification is it, whether it be palled in 
 Town or Country : in Hurry or in Retire- 
 ment : in Pomp or Gaiety, or in quiet 
 Obfcurity ? Of none : any further than as 
 thefe different Situations hurt or improve 
 the Mind : and in either of them a right 
 Mind may preferve, or even improve 
 itfelf. 
 
 What is then of Confequence ? Why, 
 that wherever, or however Life is pad, it 
 fhould be reafonably and happily : Now 
 to this .nothing is necefiary but a true prac- 
 tical Senfe of Religion, an ealy good Hu- 
 mour, cheerful Indifference to Trifles of 
 all Kinds, whether agreeable or vexatious : 
 and keeping one's felf above them all, 
 fuitably to the true Dignity of an immortal 
 Nature. 
 
 Now in a quiet private Life one cer- 
 tainly may be reafonable, religious, friend- 
 ly, good-humoured, and confequently, 
 happy. 
 
 4 In
 
 O c c A s i o N A L THOUGHTS. 4$ 
 
 In great Life one may be thus good 
 too, and very ufeful befides, and confe- 
 jquently very happy alfo. But this Way of 
 Life is more dangerous, and has too ftrong 
 a Tendency to diffipate the Mind, and 
 deprave the Heart. 
 
 Upon the whole, every State of Life is 
 equal. Providence orders all : and there- 
 fore in every one, thofe who cheerfully, 
 and refignedly accommodate themfelves to 
 its Orders, may, and mud be frappy. Why 
 then this vain Care and Anxiety, about what 
 It does not belong to us to look forward 
 to ? The Good and Evil, and the right 
 Improvement of the prefent Day *is what 
 it is our Bufinefs to attend to. If we make 
 the btft of that, we are fure all will, and 
 muft go well. If we put ourfc Ives by vain 
 Didruit and ufelefs Forefighr, out of a 
 right Temper To-day, every To-morrow 
 will be the vvoife for it. 
 
 \Vc had need often, perpetually to be 
 
 recollecting what are our Duties, and our 
 
 .Voi,. 11, D
 
 50 OCCASIONAL THOUGHTS. 
 Dangers, that we may fulfil the one, and 
 avoid the other : but never with anxious 
 or uneafy Forecaft, We mud confider the 
 -Difficulties of the State of Life we are 
 Jikely to be in, not becanfe every other 
 State of Life has not as many, for all are 
 pretty equal, but becaufe thole peculiarly 
 belong to us. 
 
 Dwelling much in our Thoughts on 
 other People's Unreafonablenefs, is a Sore 
 of Revenge, that like all other Revenge, 
 hurts ourfelves more than them. However 
 to talk over Things fometimes a little rea- 
 fonably, and fee how the Truth (lands, is a 
 very allowable Indulgence : but it rnufl not 
 be allowed too often. 
 
 Trying to convince People in Cafes where 
 
 they are prejudiced, though ever fo unrea* 
 
 ibnably, te it by Temper, Humour, or 
 
 Cuftom, is a vain and an idle Attempt. 
 
 One fhould be fatis-fied if one can, quietly 
 
 andunperceived, over- rule thofe Prejudices, 
 
 where it is neceffary in Practice ; and not 
 
 "aim at the poor Triumph of ihowing them, 
 
 * thar
 
 OCCASIONAL THOUGHTS. 51 
 that they are in the Wrong, which hurts, 
 or puts them out of Humour. 
 
 It is mere cheating one's felf to take 
 Things eafily and patiently at the Time, 
 and then repine and complain in looking 
 back upon them. This is to enjoy all the 
 Pride and Self-Applaufe of Patience, and 
 all the Indulgence of Impatience* 
 
 I 
 . 
 
 
 PROSE
 
 PROSE PASTORALS.
 
 [ 55 ] 
 
 f 
 
 PASTORAL I. 
 
 T H y R s i s. 
 
 OWith what Envy do we fee the young 
 Hunters haftening by us in Purfuit of 
 their youthful Prey ! While we are confined, 
 as i^ were, to one Spot, they meafure wi 'i 
 fwi'.'r Steps the whole fair Country round j 
 and tht Speed of their Horfes feems equal 
 to that of the Winds. The Hills echo to 
 the enlivening Sound of their Horns, and 
 the cheerful Cry of their Dogs. The ti- 
 morous Hares feud away before them : 
 they feel nor the Coldnefs of the Air : and 
 when they return Home, they have all 
 Things in plenty. We have the fame 
 Difpofitions, for Mirth and Entertainment, 
 with them Why, why (hould there be 
 D 4 this 
 
 " * O 
 ut*' *-
 
 $6 PASTORAL I. 
 
 this Difference between one Man's Station, 
 and another's ? 
 
 COLIN. 
 
 Why rather, O Thyrfis, O misjudging 
 Thyrfis, do you envy them a Pleafure, 
 they fo dearly buy ? Not long ago, I was 
 tending my Flock, upon the Brow of the 
 Hill. Thefe Hunters pafied by me in 
 great Mirth, and high Gaiety. Amongft 
 them was a very handfome Youth, the 
 (;n!y Son of a fond Mother. He guided 
 an unmanageable Horfe, and guided it 
 without Difcretion. Juft upon the Edge 
 of a Precipice, the unruly Creature took 
 Fright. I faw the Youth brought back, 
 lifelefs, pale and disfigured. The great 
 
 * r i-< o 
 
 Poncflions, to which he was born, were no 
 longer of any avail to him : while I poor 
 humble Shepherd falute the rifing Sun, 
 and enjoy Life and Health. 
 
 T H Y R s i s. 
 
 Thofe Accidents, timorous Colin, do not 
 happen every Day. But at lead I may 
 
 envy
 
 P A S T O R A L I. 57 
 
 envy thofe Idlers, whom I fee, in perfect 
 Safety, diverting themfelves upon the 
 Common. They have no fevere Matter 
 to give an Account to, for their Time :: 
 They are well clothed and better fed.. 
 
 A L c M o N. 
 
 O Thyrfis,. they have a Matter, to whom- 
 they are accountable, fuperior to thofe 
 Sort of Matters, you mean. A Matter 
 that looks upon- us with as favourable an 
 Eye, as he does upon them. A Matter,, 
 to whom, the greareft King upon his- 
 Throne, is but an upper Servant, and has 
 a heavier Talk, becaufe he is able to do 
 more than you, and I. Thefe Idlers,, 
 whom you envy, are perhaps not fb happy,, 
 as you fancy them to be. 
 
 C o L i N", 
 
 I ; faw Clorinda crofs fome Meadows, trie- 
 other Day, with an Air; that exprelTcd 
 little Happinefs. There were a large Com- 
 pany of them together : all People of. 
 D 5. FoT-
 
 5* PASTORAL I. 
 
 profperous Fortunes, all idle, and at Hafe. 
 The young Nymph went a good Way be- 
 fore all her Companions: her Garments 
 glittered in the Sun, with Silk and Gold. 
 She feemed to fhun Converfation : her 
 Eyes were fixed upon the Ground : her 
 Look was pale and melancholy, and, every 
 now and then, fhe would figh, as if her 
 Heart, was breaking. 
 
 T H Y R s i s. 
 
 Clorinda's Melancholy is eafily under- 
 ftood. Urania and fhe were once infepa- 
 rable Companions : that favourite Friend 
 of her's is lately dead: I heard Dametas 
 tell the unhappy Story. But Clorinda has 
 a thoufand Confolations. If one of us 
 loles his Friend or Brother, he lofes his all, 
 \Ve have nothing elte that Fortune can de^ 
 prive us of. 
 
 A L c M o N. 
 
 Thyrfis, I like your Ingenuity : you mow 
 fome Skill in defending a bad Caufe. Colin 
 
 and
 
 PASTORAL I. 59 
 
 and you fliall both come Home with me. 
 When it is no longer a Matter of Difpute, 
 I hope you will come over to the happier 
 Opinion. Believe me, Shepherd, we, of 
 low Condition, are free from a Multitude 
 of unknown Evils, that affliifl the Rich 
 and Great, and are more terrible to them . 
 than Storms and Tempefts are to us : more 
 grievous than Labour, and honed -and in- 
 duftrious Poverty, 
 
 D 6 PAS-
 
 [6o] 
 PASTORAL II. 
 
 THE San was hid by wintry Clouds: 
 the Wind blew Sharp and Cold : 
 the Flocks v/ere browzing on the Heath, 
 when Colin and Thyrfis, two young Shep- 
 herds, who kept them, fat down upon a 
 Bank beneath the Shelter of a Holly Bufh, 
 and fell into much Difcourfe. Methinks, 
 faid Thyrfis, it is but a fad Life, that we 
 poor Wretches lead, expofed at all Times 
 to the Severities of the Weather: in Sum- 
 mer parched with Heat, a^d pinched by 
 Frofl:s in Winter. While other young Peo- 
 ple are diverting themfelves in the Villages* 
 \ve roam about folitary here, on the wild 
 Common, and have nothing to attend to, 
 but oar ftraggling Sheep. 
 
 And
 
 PASTORAL H. SB 
 
 And yet, anfwered Colin, as hard as 
 our Life is, you fee how old Alcmon loves 
 ic ; who has fed his own Flock for fifty 
 Years, and maintains that he is happier 
 than a King. 
 
 I am, replied Thyrfis, but newly come 
 into this Country, and have little Know- 
 ledge of the neighbouring Shepherds : but. 
 I fliould be glad to fee one, who could, 
 convince me, I was happy. 
 
 See then, faid Colin, where Alcmon 
 comes hither mod opportunely. And 
 thereupon calling to the good old Man,. 
 Father, cried he, here is a young Shep- 
 herd, who wants your Infhu&ions, how. 
 to live contented. 
 
 Son, faid the old Man, fitting down by 
 them, I accept of that Name, and of the 
 Office, you have given me : for I wifh 
 well to all young People : and as I am 
 happy myfelf, I would fain have others fo* 
 
 A hard
 
 te PASTORAL II.'. 
 
 A hard Tafk you will have Father, in* 
 terrupted Thyrfis, to make People happy, 
 who have no one Enjoyment or Diverfion 
 in Life , but muft flave out their Days in 
 the Service of their Matters, who divert 
 themfelves the while, and live at Eafe. - 
 
 Good Thyrlis, faid Colin, liften but to 
 Alcmon and you will be convinced, as I 
 have be^n. 
 
 Nay -rather, faid Alcmon, let him make 
 his Complaint to me : do you anfwer him 
 from your own Experience, and which 
 ever of you beft defends his own Caufe, 
 fhall come and fup, with me at Night. 
 There we will enjoy ourfelves in honeft 
 Mirth by a warm Fire, and forget all the 
 Toils of the Day. Thyrfis agreed to the 
 Propofal and began. 
 
 T H Y R s i s. 
 
 Alas how gloomy are the Skies ! How 
 hollow is the whittling of the Wind in 
 
 De-
 
 PAS T O RAL II. 63 
 
 December ! Are thefe the Scenes to enter- 
 tain a youthful Fancy ? The Trees are- 
 ftrlpt of all their Leaves : the very Grafs is 
 of a Ruflet Brown. The Birds fit filent 
 and (hivering on the Branches. All 
 Things have an Air of Poverty and Defo- 
 lation. Alas how taftelefs is the Shep- 
 herd's Life. His Meals are fhort, and his - 
 Sleep foon interrupted. He rifes many 
 Hours before the cheerful Day begins to 
 dawn; and does not return Home, till 
 the cold Night is far advanced. . 
 
 Go LIN. 
 
 But then how delightful is the early- 
 Spring! How reviving the Advances of 
 Summer. The .Sky grows clear, or is 
 only overfpread with thin, white, curdling 
 Clouds. Soft Showers defcend upon the, 
 withered Grafs, and every Meadow fcems 
 to laugh. The gay Flowers fpring up in 
 every F'ield and adorn it with beautiful 
 Colours. The Lambkins frifk around us, 
 and divert us with their innocent Gaieties. 
 
 The
 
 64 P A S T O R A L H. 
 
 The Shepherd's Life is as innocent as 
 theirs. If his Meals are plain, they are 
 hearty : if his Sleep is Ihort, it is both 
 found and fweet. He rifes refrefhed in the 
 Morning, and fees the Day come on by 
 gradual Advances* till the whole Eaft is 
 flreaked with purple Clouds. When Night 
 fucceeds, he beholds the immenfe Vault of 
 Heaven : he admires the Luftre of the 
 Stars, and in vain tries to reckon their 
 Number. While they glitter over his Head, 
 he has no Caufe to fear any ill Influences 
 from them, fince his whole Life is harm- 
 lefs and induftrious, and renders him the 
 Care of Providence, 
 
 
 PAS-
 
 PASTORAL III. 
 
 PHILLIS and Damaris were two 
 country LaiTes, the Pride of the 
 Village where they lived : both handfome 
 to Perfection, but exceedingly different. 
 The unaffected Damaris had no Attention- 
 but to aflift the Infirmities of an aged Pa- 
 
 D 
 
 rent, whom fevere Illnefs confined to his 
 Cottage, while fhe tended Ins Flock, by 
 the Wood- fide. Her Hands were gene- 
 rally employed in fome ufeful Work : and 
 while fiie knit, or fpun to procure her old 
 Father a more tolerable Subfiftence, the 
 Cheerfulnefs of her Songs expreft a con- 
 tented Heart. Her Drefs, though very 
 poor, was always neat and clean : me ftu- 
 died no Ornament in it, and if the Neigh- 
 bours commended her Perfon, fhe lent 
 them very little Attention. 
 
 Phillis
 
 6 PASTORAL III. 
 
 Phillis had been bred up under a carelefs 
 Mother. She was exceedingly pretty, and 
 knew it mighty well. On Holidays no- 
 body fo fpruce as v fhe. Her Hat was 
 wreathed with Flowers or Ribbands : every 
 Fountain was confulted for- her Drefs, and 
 every Meadow ranfacked to adorn it. From 
 Morning till Night me was dancing, and 
 {porting on the Green : all the Shepherds 
 courted and admired her, and (he believed 
 every \Vord they faid. Yec fhe felt many 
 a Difcoment, Sometimes her Garland 
 would be lefs becoming than file wifhed it : 
 fometimes fhe would fancy that a favourite 
 Shepherd flighted her : or, that a newer 
 Face was more admired than her's. Every 
 Day was fpent in the Purfuit of Gaiety:, 
 and every Day brought with it fome Dif- 
 quiet. She was one Morning fitting very 
 penfive under a Poplar, tying up a Nofe- 
 gay, when fhe heard Damaris, who was^ 
 concealed from her, only by the Shade of- 
 fome Bufhes, finging, with a merry Heart, 
 a Song in praife of Induftry. Phillis could 
 not help interrupting her in the Midft of 
 
 it:
 
 PASTORAL III. G? 
 
 h : and when (he went towards her, found 
 her bufy in plying the DiftafF, which was 
 fixed in her Side : when thus the gay Maid 
 began. , 
 
 PH i L L i s. 
 
 How is it poffible, Damaris, that yoi* 
 fhould be always fo merry in leading a 
 Life of fuch Drudgery ? What Charms 
 can you find in it? How much better 
 would it become your Years to he dancing 
 at the May-pole, where fome rich Farmer's; 
 Son might probably fall in Love with, 
 you. 
 
 DAMARIS. 
 
 Ah Phillis, I prefer this Way of Life, be- 
 caufe I fee you very unhappy in your's. 
 For my own part 1 have never a Moment's 
 Uneafinefs. I am fenfible, I am doing 
 what I ought. 1 fee myfclf the Comforc 
 of a good old Fa'.iier, who fupported my 
 helplefs Infancy, and now wants this Re- 
 turn of Duty in his decrepid Age, When 
 
 I have
 
 68 PASTORAL III. 
 
 I have pinned the Fold at Nighr, I return 
 Home, and cheer him with my Sight. I 
 drefs his little Supper and partake it, with 
 more Pleafure, than you have at a Feaft. 
 He in the mean Time tells me Stories of 
 his younger Days, and inftructs me by his 
 Experience. Sometimes he teaches me a 
 Song like that, I \vas finging juft now : 
 and on Holidays, I read to him out of 
 Tome good Book. This, Phillis, is my 
 Life. I have no great Expectations, but 
 every cheerful Hope, that can make the 
 Heart light and eafy. 
 
 PHILLIS. 
 
 Well Damaris : I fliall not difpute your 
 Tafte. My Father is well enough, by his 
 own Labour, to provide for his Family : 
 and my Mother never fet us the Example 
 of Working. 'Tis true we are poor : but 
 who knows what good Fortune may throw 
 in our Way. Youth is the Time for Mirth, 
 and Pleafure : and I do not care how 
 hardly 1 fare, provided I can get a Silken. 
 
 Lining
 
 PASTORAL III. 69 
 
 Lining to my Hat, and be Lady of the 
 May next Year. 
 
 DA MAR is. 
 
 O Phillis, this is very pretty for thepre* 
 fent : but in what will it end ? Do you 
 think that Smoothnefs of Face will always 
 laft ? Yon decrepid old Woman, that 
 limps upon her Crutches, was once, they 
 fay, as handfome as you. Her Youth 
 pafied without engaging anybody in a 
 real Affection to her: yet. her good Name 
 was loft, among the Follies me engaged 
 
 C? O * ' 
 
 in. Poverty and Age came on together: 
 Hie has long been a Burden to the Village, 
 and herfeif. If any Neighbour's Cow is 
 ill, all Sufpicions of Witchcraft fall upon 
 her. She can do nothing to maintain her- 
 feif: and everybody grudges her what me 
 has. 
 
 PHILLIS. 
 
 Ill-natured Damaris, to compare me with 
 a Hag, that all the Country abhors. I 
 
 wifli
 
 70 PASTORAL III. 
 
 wifh you would come to the Paftirnes : 
 They would put you in a better Humour. 
 Befides you would there hear what the 
 Shepherds fay to this Phillis, whom you 
 are pleafed to defpife fo. 
 
 D A M A R i s. 
 
 I do not defpife you Phillis : but I wiih 
 you well, and would fain fee you as happy 
 as myfelf. That fine green Stuff, your 
 Gown is made of, would become you 
 much better if it was of your own Spinning. 
 But I talk like an old Man's Daughter, 
 and am little heeded. Go pretty Butterfly, 
 and rejoice in the Summer of thy Days : 
 let me like the homely, but induftrious 
 Ant, lay up fome Provifion for the Win- 
 ter. 
 
 A &
 
 PASTORAL IV. 
 
 IMAGINE honeft Friends, that in- 
 ftead of a little Book, I am a good hu- 
 ^rnoured Neighbour, come to fpend an 
 Hour with you in cheerful Chat. Do not 
 look upon me as one that is come to read 
 you grave Lectures of Religion and good 
 Behaviour : But give me the Welcome of 
 an agreeable Companion. Is it in a Sum- 
 mer's Holiday, you take me up ? Come : 
 let us go out into the Fields, fit down un- 
 der fome fhady Tree, and while the Sun 
 fhines, and the Birds fing round us, let us 
 talk over all, we have to fay. Or is it a 
 Winter's Evening ? Draw your Seats about 
 the Chimney , throw on another Faggot, 
 make a cheerful Blaze, and let us be com- 
 fortable. What is it, to us here, if the 
 
 Wind
 
 72 PASTORAL III. 
 \Vind blows and the Rain beats abroad ? 
 Since we cannot work, lee us divert our- 
 felves, but let us divert ourfelves in a harm- 
 lefs reafqnable Way, that we may turn this 
 idle Time to as good Account, as the bufieft. 
 
 Come : what (hall we talk of ? Of Hap- 
 nets ? there cannot be a pleafanter Subject. 
 Where is it to be had, this Happinefs, and 
 how (hall we come by it ? 
 
 Where is it to be had ? Why, every- 
 where, fo we can but command our 
 Thoughts, and do our Duty : ferve God 
 cheerfully, and make the bed of our Lot. 
 
 It may be, good Neighbour, you are 
 old, lame, fickly, have a large Family, 
 and little to maintain them. Alas poor 
 Neighbour ! yet dill it is ten to one you 
 may be happier, than many a Nobleman, 
 and many a Prince. I fuppofe you honeft 
 and religious. Why then the better Half 
 is iecure : your Mind is eafy. You have 
 no Load upon your Confcience, and no 
 
 need
 
 PASTORAL IV, 7$' 
 
 need to be afraid even of Death. But can- 
 not your Condition be, any way, mended ? 
 Content is a good Thing : yet Succefs iri 
 honeft Endeavours is a better. There is 
 no need of fitting fadly down, and acqui- 
 efcing in a miferable Lot, till, upon ma* 
 ture Confideration, we find it to be really 
 the Will of Providence that we fhould : 
 and then, let me tell you, dear Friend, 
 God's Will is kinder to us, than our own 
 Wilhes. When we fubmit patiently to 
 Sorrows and Hardfhips, not out of Lazi- 
 nefs, nor out of Deipair, nor, out o 
 thouglulefs Helplefihefs, we then truft our 
 Souls to him, in well doing. We aft a 
 commendable Part, which our great Maf- 
 ter will approve : and we may have a 
 cheerful Confidence in his Mercy, that all 
 Things (hall work together for our Good. 
 Come : pluck up your Spirits my Friend, 
 and let us fee whether the Part, that falls 
 to you is to mend your Condition, or to 
 bear it. 
 
 VOL. II. ."E Firft
 
 74 PASTORAL IV. 
 
 Firft you are old. Well, that is a Fault 
 that Time will not mend indeed but 
 linernity will mend it, honeft Friend. The 
 Period will come when your Youth fball 
 be renewed : when you fhall be young, and 
 lufty as an Eagle, and thefe gray Hairs and 
 Wrinkles (hall be fucceeded by immortal 
 Bloom. In the mean Time, ib much of 
 your Life is well over : you are got fo far 
 on your Journey, through this Vale of 
 Tears. You can refledc with Pleafure on a 
 great many good Actions, and pioue Dif- 
 pofitions : and it peculiarly becomes old 
 Age to meditate much upon thofe Sub- 
 jects, which are of all others, the moft 
 noble and delightful. Heaven is the Ob- 
 ject, that fhonld be always in their View. 
 What a Profpect is that ! What, think you 
 ftioukl be the Joy of a Sea-faring Man, 
 when, after a long, ftormy Voyage, he is 
 come within Sight of the Tort ? Suppofe a 
 young Man had an Eftate left to him, 
 which he had never feen. Suppoie he had 
 been travelling a thoufand Miles to come 
 to it : that he had met with perpetual bad 
 
 Wca-
 
 PASTORAL IV. 75 
 Weather, by the Way, and dirty Roads : 
 that he was faint, and well nigh wearied 
 out : and that juft then he comes to the 
 Brow of a dry, fandy Hill, bleak and un- 
 pleafant in itfelf, but from whence, the 
 Profpeft firft opened upon him, of that 
 fair Place, he is going to enjoy. Suppoie 
 he fees the tufted Woods crowned with the 
 brighteft Verdure : fuppofe he fees, among 
 them, glittering Spires, and Domes, and 
 gilded Columns : and knows that all thefe 
 fhall be his own. With what Pleafure will 
 he furvey the gentle winding Rivulets gli* 
 ding through fertile Meadows : the Bor- 
 ders gay with Flowers of every Kind : the 
 Parks and Forefts filled with ail Sorts of 
 excellent Fruits : the Caftles, and Pleafure- 
 Houfes, which he knows to be rich with 
 magnificent Furniture : and, what is above 
 all, where he knows that his beft and mod 
 beloved Friends, and a delightful Society., 
 whom he longs to be amongit, are waiting 
 with kind Impatience to receive him: 
 Think you, that he will have Leifure to 
 attend to the little Inconvenkncies of the 
 E 2 prefem;
 
 7t> PASTORAL IV. 
 
 prefcnt Moment ? Will not his Thoughts 
 fly forward, fader than his Legs can carry 
 him, to this bleffed Inheritance ? Yet how 
 poor are fuch Riches, and Pleafures, com- 
 pared with the certain Expectations of the 
 pooreft old Man, that is pious and virtuous. 
 
 A FAIRY
 
 [ 77 ] 
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 A Number of Boys were diverting 
 themfelves one fine Day in a Mea- 
 dow, when a wrinkled old Woman came 
 up to them, and (Vopt their play. Her 
 Looks were unpleafing, and her Interryp- 
 t'ron unfeafonable. One of the biggefl, 
 who had been taught by his Tutor to re- 
 fpecl: her, addrefl her very civilly : but of 
 the little Urchins fome ran away frighted, 
 and hid themfelves : and others very intb- 
 lently laughed at her, and called her old 
 Witch. Little George, the youngeft of 
 them all, a very pretty, good humoured 
 Lad, held by the Hand of the eldeft r 
 (who, he thought, as he had always beer* 
 his Friend, would protect him) and lif- 
 tened : but a little afraid too, and not 
 much liking either her Looks, or the being 
 E 3 hindered
 
 ?S A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 hindered of his play : however he was toe 
 well bred -to fay any Thing rude. She 
 fmiled, and taking his other Hand, do not 
 be afraid of me, my dear Child, faid me, 
 for though thole idle Boys yonder call me 
 CrofThefs, and Severity, my true Name is 
 Xnftruflion. \ love every one of you : and 
 you, my little Dear, in particular, and my 
 whole Bufinefs is to do you Good. Come 
 with me to my Cattle, and 1 will make 
 you as happy, as the Day is long. 
 
 Little George did not know how to truft 
 her, but as he faw his F:iend Henry dii" 
 poied to follow the old Lady, he even ven- 
 tured along with them. 
 
 7"he Caftle was an old melancholy look- 
 ing Building, and the Path to it very much 
 entangled, with Briars and Th idles : but 
 the old Woman encouraged them in a 
 cheerful Tone to come along : and taking 
 out a large Key, which had feveral ftrange 
 Words engraved upon it, fne put it into 
 the Door, which immediately flew open, 
 
 and
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 79 
 
 and they entered a fpacious Hall magnifi- 
 ciencly furniOied. Through this fhey patted 
 into feverai Apartments, each finer and 
 pleafanter than the other: but to every 
 one they aftended by fleep Steps, and on 
 every Step ftrange, and unknown Words 
 \vcie engraved* 
 
 o 
 
 Perhaps you would be glad to know 
 feme more Particulars of thefe Apart- 
 ments : and indeed I fhould have told you, 
 that as foon as they entered the great Hail, 
 foe made them lie down to a pretty Col- 
 lation of Plumb-cakes, Biicuirs and Sweet- 
 meats, \vhich were brought in Bafkets co- 
 vered with Flowers, by four fmiling, rofy 
 cheeked Girls, called Innvcence^ Health^ 
 frtirtb, and Gccd-JIumcw. When they were 
 fuffkiently refrtrfned, the old Lady re- 
 turned to them, in a finer Drefs, and with 
 a much more pleafing Look. She had 
 now a Wand in her Hand, of Ivory, tip- 
 ped with Gold, and wich this (he pointed 
 out to them the Ornaments of the Room. 
 It was fupported by ftrong, ,but handfome 
 E 4 Pillars
 
 to A FAIRYTALE. 
 
 Pillars of Adamant ; and between the Pil- 
 lars, hung Feftoons of Fruit and Flowers. 
 At the upper End, were Niches, with very 
 beautiful Statues in them. The principal 
 one was 'Truth. It appeared to be of one 
 entire Diamond, and reprefented the mod 
 beautiful "Woman, that ever Eyes beheld. 
 Her Air was full of Dignity and Sweetnefs : 
 In one Hand fhe held a Scepter, in the other 
 a Book, and fhe had an imperial Crown on 
 her Head. The old Fairy gently touched 
 this Figure with her Wand, and immedi- 
 ately it flepped down from the Pedeftal, 
 and began to fpeak. No Mufic was ever 
 Jo pleating as the Voice of Truth. She 
 addreft herfclf to our little Hero, and ex- 
 amined him in his Catechifm. As he had 
 formerly been a little idle, he could not 
 fay it fo well, as, at that Minute, he 
 wifhed to do. Little Wretch, faid the old- 
 Fairy frowning, why do you anfwer fo- 
 ftupidly ? Have you never been taught ? 
 Here was a Loop-hole through which a 
 Boy, of a cowardly Spirit, might have 
 crept our, by pretending, that his Tutor 
 
 had
 
 A FAIRY TALK 81 
 
 hacl been in Fault, and not himfelf. Bur 
 [Rile George feorned to tell a Lye: rror 
 could he be fo bafe as to excufe hiffi-felf, by 
 accufmg an innocent Perfon. Therefore, 
 though trembling for Fear of the old Fairy, 
 and her Wand, he anfvvered, Indeed, Ma- 
 dam, I have been often bid to learn it, buc 
 I loved my Diverfions fo well, that I never 
 
 could apply to it. Here the old Fairy, 
 
 fmiling, kiffed him, and laid, my dear 
 Child I forgive your pad Idlenefs, in* Fa- 
 vour of your noble Honefty. A Fault ho- 
 ireftly owned is half amended,, and this 
 Nymph fhalV reward you-. 
 
 Immediately Truth gave him a Tittle Ca- 
 techifm bound in Silvercnamelied, a Pecker 
 Bible with Ru-by Clafps, and a fmall Look- 
 ing-Glafs in a GoM Cafe-. In thefe Books, 
 my Dear, faid (he, you (hall find conltam 
 D i r e <5t i o n s f ro m me, \v h i ch , i f y o u foil o w , 
 will make you good, and grenr, and happy, 
 If you never offend againft me, I will be 
 ready to afiift you in all Difficulties.. If 
 ever you fliould be tempted- to- offirnd ine y 
 5 look:
 
 $2 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 look in this Glafs. If you fee yourfelf in 
 it in your own natural Figure, go on con- 
 tentedly, and be fure you are under my 
 Protection. But if you fee yourfelf in the 
 Form of a Slave, and a Monfter, greafy 
 ragged, loaded with Chains : a double 
 Tongue hanging out of your Mouth, and 
 a Pair of Afs's Ears on your Head, tremble 
 to think, that you are got into the Power 
 of the wicked Enchanter Falfebocd. Re- 
 tracl the Lye you have told : ftand dill 
 wherever you are : call out aloud for my 
 Afiiftance : and do not ftir from the Spot 
 you are in, till I come to help you. So 
 faying, the bright Form re-afcended her Pe- 
 ddlal : and four others, who ftood on 
 each Hand, being touched by the Fairy 
 Wand, moved towards him. 
 
 The firft was a young Woman clothed 
 in a long white Robe, perfectly neat and 
 plain. S!*e had fine flaxen'Air, and blue 
 Eyes, which were fixed on the Ground. A 
 white Veil Ihaded her Face , and her Co- 
 lour went and came every Minute. She 
 
 advanced
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 83 
 
 advanced with a flow Pace, and fpoke in a 
 Voice very low, but as fweet as the Nigh't- 
 ingale's. 
 
 My Name, fliid (he, is Mcfcjty. I have 
 no Merit, but perhaps as you are fo young, 
 it may be in my Power to be of fome little 
 Ufe to you. Before you get to the Top 
 of this Caftle, you will ke many ftrange 
 Things, and be bid to do many Things, 
 of which you do not underftand the Rea- 
 fon. But remember, that you are very 
 young, and know nothing : and that every 
 Body here is wifer than you. Therefore 
 obierve attentively all that you fee ; and 
 do readily all that you are bid. As you 
 have recommended yourfelf to Truth, we 
 her Handmaids are ready to give you all 
 the Afliftance we can j and you will need 
 it all. 
 
 Above ail Things fear Difgrace. It is 
 
 a filthy Puddle in the Neighbourhood of 
 
 this Caftle, whofe Stains are not eafily 
 
 wiped off. Thofe, w ho run heedlefsly, or 
 
 E 6 wilfully
 
 84 A FAIRY TALE.. 
 wilfully into it, after repeated Warnings, 
 grow in Time fo loathfome, that no Body 
 can endure them, 
 
 ] 
 There is an Enchantrefs, you will meet 
 
 with, called Flattery, who wiH offer you a 
 very pkafant Cup. If you drink much; 
 of it your Head will turn : and while you 
 fancy yourfelf a moft accompliftied Perfon,, 
 ihe will touch you with her wicked Wand v 
 and immediately you will be metamorpho- 
 fed into a Butterfly^ a Squibj, or a Paper- 
 Kite. But as, perhaps, you muft tafte her 
 Cup, take this Nofegay of Violets r and 
 as you find your Head a little giddy fmell 
 to it, and you will be fo refreshed, that 
 the will have no Power to hurt you. This 
 little Nofegay will defend you allb againft 
 the Magician- Pride, who in a thoufand 
 dnapes wi'fl try to introduce himfelf to you,, 
 and perfuade you to go with him to a high- 
 Rock* from whence, he will either throw 
 you down among frightful Precipices, into 
 the Pool of Difgrace,, or elfe change you 
 > a Lion, or a Tyger, or a Rear, or
 
 A FAIRY TALE, 5 
 into fuch a huge dropfical Figure, that 
 every Body (hall hate to look upon you t 
 and that you (hall not be able to pafs 
 through the Gates, that lead to Plappinefs.. 
 When, you fufpetfi his coming, fmell to. 
 your Violets, and you will immediately 
 fee through his Difguife, and at the fame 
 Time, they {hall make you fo- little, he 
 fhall not fee you : and when you are in a* 
 Crowd, fmell to them again, and yous 
 fball pafs through it without Difficuky. I 
 wim I had a better Gift to beCLow -^ but 
 a-ccept of my AIL 
 
 Little George thanked her kindly, an<J 
 ituck the N.ofegay in his Bafom. 
 
 On the Pedeftal of the next Figure, was 
 iaicribed Natural Afsftion. Her Coume- 
 nance was fweet and engaging : her Gar- 
 ment embroidered with Storks, Doves> 
 and various pretty Animals. She had 
 Bracelets on her Arms, and fine Rings on 
 every Fingsr i every- one was the Gift of 
 &>me beloved Friend or Relation.. My/
 
 S6 A FAIRY TALE. 
 dear George, fa id fhe, I Ipve you for the 
 Sake of your Parents. I have a thoufand 
 pretty Gifts to bellow, and this particu- 
 larly will be of Ufe to you. She then gave 
 him a fmall enamelled Box, with Pictures 
 on every Side. When, faid fhe, you are 
 in Doubt how to behave, look upon the 
 Pictures. They are thofe of your Parents, 
 Relations, and Friends: being gifted by 
 a Fairy, you will fee every Figure in Mo- 
 tion : and as your Papa and Mamma, your 
 Brothers and Sifters Item affected by your 
 Behaviour, you will judge whether you are 
 acting right or wrong. I am fure it is 
 your Defire always to give them Pleafure, 
 and not Pain, to be an Honour to them, 
 and not a Reproach. 
 
 The next Image that fpoke was entirely 
 made of Sugar, but a Sugar as firm, and 
 almoft as clear as Chryftal. Her Name 
 was Good 'Temper. In her Bofom, (lie had 
 a Noiegay of Rofes without Thorns. She 
 took our little Friend by the Hand, and 
 feeing it fcratched from a Scuffle, he had 
 6 had
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 87 
 
 had with his Companions, fhe healed it 
 with a Touch ; and gave him a fmall Ama- 
 thy-ft Phial filled with Honey and Oil of a 
 peculiar Kind. Touch your Lips with this 
 Julep, faid (he, every Morning. Though 
 the Phial is fmall, it is inexhauftible, and 
 you will never more be liable to Harm, 
 from any idle Quarrel ; as you will never 
 fay any Thing peevifh, or provoking, all 
 your Companions will love you : and your 
 Servants will think it a BlefTmg to live 
 with you. 
 
 One Figure more remained, and the 
 Fairy had no fooner touched it, but down 
 from her Pedeftal jumped fprightly Dili- 
 gence. She was dreft like a Huntrefs. Ac- 
 tivity and Nimblenefs appeared in every 
 Limb. She fprung to George, clapped 
 her Hands on his Shoulders, and immedr 
 diately then appeared a Couple of little 
 Wings. Thefe Wings, faid fhe, will be 
 of great Ufe to you in afcending tlje fleep 
 Steps, you will have to go up, by and by. 
 But all Wings need frequent pluming : 
 
 and
 
 S A FAIRY TALE, 
 and thefe will lofe all their Virtue* if \roti 
 do not keep them in Order every Day, by 
 ufing the Talifman, I am going next to- 
 give you. This Talifman was a golden- 
 Spur. This, faid fhe, whenever your 
 Wings are drooping, (as they will very 
 often, whtn the old W?tch Lazinefs ap- 
 proaches, who would metamorphole you 
 into a Dormoufe)you mult run gently into 
 your Side, and they will be ready immedi- 
 ately, to carry you out of. her Reach. I 
 am fure, you have too much true Courage 
 to fear a little trifling Pain, when it will 
 be the Means of gaining you every Im- 
 provement. Good Night, good Night* 
 my Love, I fee you are fleepy, but as foorr 
 a? you wake in the Morning, be fure ta 
 make ule of your Spur. 
 
 The good old Fairy then Fed Henry and' 
 George into a lirtle neat Room, where they 
 went to Bed and fiept tifl Day-break, 
 dreaming of all the agreeable Things, they 
 had fetn and heard. George did not wake,, 
 till Henry was already up and dreft: but- he 
 
 waked
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 89 
 
 waked difturbed, and begun to tell his 
 Friend his Dreams. I thought, faid he, 
 that looking out of the Window, I faw all 
 my Companions at play, and flew out to 
 them directly, to fhow them thofe fine 
 Things, that the Statues had given me. 
 Inftead of admiring me, they fell upon- 
 me : one feized one fine Thing, and ano- 
 ther, another -, till poor I had nothing left 
 but my Wings. What vexed me too, in 
 the Scuffle my Violets were fcattered, the 
 Books torn, the Pictures fpoilt, the Glafs 
 broke, and the Julep fpilt. So that they 
 were never the better, though I was fo 
 much the worfe. Well, I took to my^ 
 Wings however, and thought I might as 
 eafjly fiy in, as out, and then the good- 
 Fail y would give me more pretty Things. 
 But no fuch Matter : The Windows were- 
 flint, the Doors were barred and bolted.. 
 Owls and Bats flew about my Head : 
 Geefe hiffed at me, A fifes brayed at me, 
 Monkies chattered in my Ears, and I 
 fell down no Body knows whither. 
 
 Be
 
 )0 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 Be thankful, faid Henry, that it was 
 only a Dream , here are all your pretty 
 Things fate : and fo faying he gently 
 touched his Side, like a true Friend, with 
 the Spur, and up jumped little George all 
 alive and merry. He read in his Books: 
 He with Pleafure faw his own honeft Face 
 in the Glafs of Truth : He obferved with 
 Delight, the Pictures of his Friends and 
 Relations, all fmiling upon him. While 
 he was thus employed, in flept a fober^ 
 looking Man, leaning on a Staff. My 
 young Friends, faid he, I am fent to con- 
 duct yon through the noble Apartments of 
 thisCaftle. A fine Conductor indeed, faid 
 little George, who had unfortunately for- 
 got both his Violets, and his Rhial, your 
 Crutch honeft Man, will keep up ranly 
 with my Wings. Your Wings Youngfler, ., 
 replied Application (for that was his Name) 
 will be of little Service, unlefs I lend you 
 a Staff to reft upon, which wherever you 
 fet it down, will make your Footing fure. 
 This Speech was unheeded by little George, 
 who already upon the Wing, fluttered 
 
 away.
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 91 
 away. Henry foon overtook him, having 
 quite as good Pinions, though he did not 
 boaft of them, but frayed firft, to bring 
 with him, the Staff, the Phial, and the 
 Nofegay, againft his Friend fhould need 
 them. Little George was now trying to 
 mount up a fteep Stair-cafe, which he faw 
 Multitudes of his own Age afcending, 
 Very eagerly he ftretched his Wings, whofe 
 painted Plumage glittered in the Sun- 
 Beams, and very often juft reached the 
 Top : but he was greatly furprized to find 
 that he always flid back again, as if he 
 had ftood upon a Slope of Ice, fo that 
 hundreds and hundreds had got through 
 the folding Doors above, while he was 
 ftill but at the Bottom. He cried for Vex- 
 aiion : gave hard Names to the Boys, that 
 got before him, and was laughed at by 
 them in Return. The Box of Pictures 
 gave him no Comfort, for there he faw 
 his Father frowning, and his Mother look- 
 ing unhappy. At this Minute, friendly 
 Henry came to his Relief, and giving him 
 the Viokts, the Phial, and the Staff, make 
 
 Ufe
 
 $i A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 Ufe of thefe, faid he, and you will eafily 
 get up with them, who are now before 
 you. Obferve, that they have, every one 
 of them, jaft fuch a Staff, and that, not- 
 withftanding their Wings, they can rife 
 Jbut one Step at a Time. George who hud 
 now touched his Lips with the Phial, 
 thanked him very kindly,and they mounted 
 feveral Steps, Hand in Hand. On fome 
 were infcribed, Propria qii<e Marlins : on 
 others As in Pr^efenti^ and various other 
 magic Verfes, which, they juft reftecl long, 
 enough on every Step to read, and as they 
 afcended, the Steps grew eafier and eafier*. 
 George however was a little out of Breath, 
 and more than once wifhed himfelf out of 
 the Caftle. Yet he was delighted to find 
 himfelf almoit overtaking the Foremoft, 
 who had, fome of them, loitered by the 
 Way. 
 
 And now he entered into an Apartment 
 more magnificent than any, he had ever 
 fcen. Thoufands of Rooms opened, one 
 beyond another, furnifhed with all the 
 Elegance of Tafte. From every one of 
 
 thefe
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 93 
 
 thefe were delightful Profpe&s : but then, 
 for a long while, he had not Leifure to 
 attend to the ftrang-e Varieties of rich and 
 
 O 
 
 uncommon Furniture, exciting his Curio- 
 fity every Minute. One long Gallery was 
 hung with Paintings, fo exquifitely fine, 
 that every Figure feemed alive : and fome 
 of them actually fpoke and amufed him 
 with a thoufand agreeable Stories. Here 
 he faw all the Metamorphofes of the Hea- 
 then Gods, the Adventures of ^neas, and 
 a Number of other Things that I have 
 not Time to defcribc, A young Damfel 
 attended him dreft in a Gown made of 
 Feathers, more gay than the Rainbow. 
 She had Wings upon her Head : (he gave 
 him the molt delicious Sv/eet-meats, and 
 he drank out of a fparkling Cup, the plea- 
 fanteft Liquor imaginable. This light Difh 
 did not quite fatisfy a hungry Stomach : 
 fo that George was not very forry when, 
 pad through the Gallery of Fiflion, his 
 fair Conduftrels Poetry configned him over 
 to the Care of a good hofpitable old Man, 
 
 in
 
 94. A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 in the next Apartment, whofe Table 
 always covered with wholfome and fub- 
 ftantial Food. This Apartment, called the 
 Saloon of Hiftory, was by no Means fo gay 
 as the former : but deferved Examination 
 better. The Walls were covered with 
 Marble, adorned with the fineft Bafib Re- 
 lievos, Statues and Buftos, of every ce- 
 lebrated Hero and Legiflator, (truck the 
 obfervin^ Eye with Veneration. The Maf. 
 ter of the Feaft was extremely good-na- 
 tured, and communicative : and ready to 
 anfwer every Queftion, that George's Cu- 
 riofity prompted him to afk. He com- 
 mended him for his Love of Truth, and 
 toailed her Health, as his own Patronefs. 
 But, as the old Gentleman was, fometimes, 
 a little prolix in his Stories, our young Tra- 
 veller amufed himfelf, every now and then, 
 with looking over his Treafures. Surveying 
 the Box of Pictures, he could not help wifh- 
 ing for a nearer Sight of the Friends they 
 reprefented. A Window, that flood open 
 juft by him, and overlooked a delightful 
 
 Play.
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 95 
 
 Play-Field, reminded him of his Wings. 
 But the Recollection of his frightful 
 Dream, prevented him from attempting an 
 Efcape. 
 
 At this Minute, the Fairy Injtruflicn ap* 
 peared with a fmiling Look. I know your 
 Thoughrs, my Dear, faid fbe, and am wil- 
 ling to allow you every reafonable Indul- 
 gence. I have, in my Service, a Number 
 of little winged Beings, whofe Bufinefs it 
 is to convey my young Fiiends, from 
 Time to Time, to their beloved Homes. 
 In order to your returning fafely, accept 
 this Key. You muft be lure to rub it 
 every Morning, that it may not grow rufty, 
 elfe the Characters, that are engraved upon 
 it, will difappear. If your Key is kept 
 bright, you need only read the Infcription 
 aloud, and, without Difficulty you will 
 return to this very Apartment, and be in- 
 tituled to an honourable Reception. But 
 if the Key mould grow rufty, beware of a 
 difgraceful Fall. Let your Dream warn 
 
 you
 
 $6 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 you to take Care of your precious Gifts, 
 and to make a due Ufe of them. 
 
 She had fcarcely done fpeaking, before 
 there was a general Voice of Joy, heard 
 through the whole Apartment, " The 
 " Holidays are come, the Holidays are 
 " come:" and immediately a Number of 
 little Cherubims appeared, in the Air, 
 crowned with Garlands, and away with 
 them flew little George : but unluckily in 
 his Hafte, left both the Staff, and the 
 Spur behind him. Indeed at this Minute 
 they were needlefs. 
 
 His Friends were all ready to receive 
 him with affectionate Joy. They com- 
 mended his Improvements, and liftened, 
 with Delight, to his Account of the fur- 
 priling Things, he had feen : and rejoiced 
 m the Marks of Favour he had received 
 from excellent and powerful Fairies. He 
 played about all Day with his Companions, 
 *nd every Thing was thought of, that 
 
 could
 
 A FAIRY TALE, 97 
 cauld beft divert him. In the Midft of 
 thefe Amufements, the poor Key was in a 
 few Days forgot : nor did he recollect ir, 
 till one Day he faw Henry fitting under a 
 Tree, and very diligently brightening up 
 his own. Stupid Boy, faid giddy George, 
 what do you fit moping there for ? Come 
 and play. So I will prefently, faid Henry : 
 but I muft not neglect the Means of re- 
 turning honourably to the good Fairy. 
 Hang the old Fairy, cried George : be- 
 Hdes my Key will keep bright enough, I 
 warrant it, without all this ado. However, 
 looking at the Key, he found it brown 
 with Ruft : and fadly his Arm aked with 
 the vain Endeavour of rubbing it bright 5 
 for as he could not fucceed in five Minutes, 
 down he flung it in Defpair. 
 
 What do you cry for, my pretty Maf* 
 t-cr ? faid a Man, in a fine Coat, who was 
 pailing by. George told him his Diftrefs. 
 Be comforted, faid the Man, I will give 
 you a Gold Key fet with Emeralds, that 
 {hall be better by half, and fitter for a 
 
 VOL, II. F young
 
 98 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 young Gentleman of your Rank, than that 
 old Woman's rufty Iron. 
 
 Juft then, George, who did not want 
 Clevernefs, began to fufpedt fomething: 
 and fmellingto his Violets, the fine "Man 
 appeared in his true Shape, which was, 
 indeed, no other then that of the Magician 
 Pride. He was immoderately tall and 
 bloated : his Eyes were fierce and malig- 
 nant : his Cheeks were painted, a Peacock 
 fat upon his Head, a Bear and a Leopard 
 followed him. In one Hand he held an 
 empty Bladder, and in the other a fatal 
 "Wand. His under Veft was flamed and 
 ragged -, but over it he had a pompous 
 Herald's Coat, with a long Train fup- 
 ported by an ugly Dwarf, and a limping 
 Idiot, whom he turned back continually 
 to infult and abufe. Well was it for little 
 George, that his Violets had rendered him 
 invifible. He faw the Magician go on to 
 one of his Companions, who being defti- 
 tute of fuch a Defence, immediately be- 
 came his Prey. Take this Nofegay, my 
 
 Child,
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 99 
 
 Child, faid the wicked Wretch, and pro 
 fented him with a Bunch of Nettles, finely 
 gilded, but very flinging. The poor Boy 
 had no fooner touched them than his Coun- 
 tenance expreft Pain : he quarrelled with 
 every Body round him : yet the Simpleton 
 kept continually fmelling to his Nofegay* 
 and the more he was nettled, the more 
 quarrelfome he grew. His Size too in- 
 creafed in Proportion : he became fwelled 
 and bloated. He grew tall too all at 
 once, but it was only by being raifed on an 
 enormous Pair of Stilts, on which he could 
 not walk a Step, without danger of tumb- 
 ling down. 
 
 George could not help laughing at his 
 ridiculous Figure, but would, out of Good- 
 nature, have offered him his own Bunch 
 to fmell to, if thofe unfortunate Stilts had 
 not raifed him quite out of his Reach, 
 He therefore was making the bed of his 
 Way back, having firft fecured his Key., 
 when a laughing giddy Hoyden called qut 
 to him, that fhe had found a Bird's Neft. 
 F 2 Away
 
 ICQ A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 Away with her he ran upon this new Pur- 
 fuit : and from Bird's Neft to Bird's Neft, 
 and from Butterfly to Butterfly they fcam- 
 pered over the flowery Fields, till Night . 
 drew on. She then perfuaded him to go 
 with her to her Mother's Houfe, which was 
 hutjuft by, and reft himfelf. 
 
 He found there a Lady lolling in an 
 cafy Chair, who fcarce raifed her Head to 
 bid him welcome. A Table however flood 
 hy her, ready fpread with every Kind of 
 Dainty, where Idlenefs t for fo was his Play- 
 Fellow called, invited him to fit down,- 
 and after Supper, he was conducted into a 
 Chamber, fct round with Shelves of Play- 
 things, where, in a foft Down Bed, he flept 
 till very late the next Day. At laft, though 
 unwillingly he got up : bur for no better 
 Purpoie than to look over thofe worthlefs 
 Toys, which he half defpifed all the while. 
 What, thought he, is this Tinfel, and 
 Glafs and Wood to compare with the rich 
 Treafures, of the old Fairy's Caftle ? Nei- 
 ther the old Woman here, nor the Sim- 
 
 pletoa
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 101' 
 pleton her Daughter will anfwer me a 
 Queftion, I afk, nor divert me with ludi 
 Stories, as the very Figures and Statues 
 there were full of. Thus thinking, he 
 continued neverthelefs to divert himfelf 
 v/ith the Play-things, and was growing 
 faft back into the Love of Rattles, and 
 Bells, when a fudden Panic feized him on 
 feeing in the Corners of every Shelf, Filli- 
 gree Cages full of Dormice. Miferabfe 
 Boy, that I am, cried he, this muft cer- 
 tainly be the Den of Lazinefs ! How mail 
 I efcape ? He tried to ftretch his Wings : 
 but alas, they drooped, and now, for the 
 firft Time, he found, and lamented the 
 want of his Spur. He ran to the Win- 
 dows : every Profpect from thence was de- 
 folate and barren, refembling exactly what 
 he had read in his Ruby-clafped Book, of 
 the Field of the Sluggard. 
 
 In vain did he look for the Holidays to 
 
 tranfport him, from this wretched Place. 
 
 The laft of them was already on the Wing, 
 
 and almoft out of fight : for it is peculiar 
 
 F t&
 
 102 A FAIRY TALE, 
 to thefe little Beings to approach flowly, 
 hut to fly away with amazing Swiftnefs. 
 However, he met with Afllftance, where 
 he lead expected it. A difmal Cloud hung 
 almoft over his Head, which he feared, 
 would every Minute burft in Thunder ; 
 when out of it flew a black Eagle, who 
 feized little George in her Talons, and in 
 a Moment he found himfeif at the Gates 
 of the Caftle of Inftruction. 
 
 Perhaps you may not think his Cafe 
 now, much better than it was before. A 
 little Dormoufe could have lain fnug and 
 warm, in Cotton : whereas poor George 
 was forced to {land in the Cold, among 
 Thorns and Briars, vainly endeavouring to 
 read the Infcription on his Key, which was 
 now, alas, grown ruftier than ever. In the 
 mean Time he faw moft of his Companions, 
 his Friend Henry one of the foremoft, fly 
 over his Head, while their polimed Keys 
 glittered like Diamonds : and all of them 
 received into the Apartments, they came 
 out of, with joyful Acclamations. The 
 
 Boy
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 103 
 
 Boy upon Stilts, indeed, did not make fo 
 good a Figure. He reached up to the 
 Window, but his falfe Key would not 
 open it : and making a falle Step down 
 he tumbled into the dirty Pool. 
 
 At this Minute, the old Fairy looked 
 eat, and calling to George, why do not 
 you, my Child, faid fhe, make Ufe of 
 your Wings and your Key ? J am impa- 
 tient to have you amongft us again, that 
 you may receive finer Gifts, and fee greater 
 Wonders, than any you have met with yet. 
 
 Here a Woman came to him, clothed 
 in Plare-fkins, and mivering with an Ague. 
 She touched him with a cold Finger, that 
 chilled his Blood : and ftammered out 
 thele terrifying Words, D don't g go intt to 
 the C cajtle P pumjhment is r ready for r y you y 
 r run away* 
 
 Scorn Punifhment, and defpife it, faid 
 
 Footbardinefs, a little pert Monkey in a 
 
 Scarlet Coat, and mounted upon a Goofe. 
 
 F 4 Fear
 
 104 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 Fear Difgrace, faid Shame, and with a 
 Rofe Bufh, which (he carried, brumed the 
 Monkey into the dirty Pool, where he lay 
 fcream-ing and chattering, while his Goofe 
 hilled at him. 
 
 Poor George knew not what to do. It 
 once came into his Head to make a plau- 
 fible Excufe, and fay his Key was very 
 bright, but the Lock was out of Order. 
 But bethinking himfelf to apply to his 
 Glafs, he no fooner faw the Afs's Ears, 
 than, in hoiaeft Diftrefs, he catted out, O 
 Truth) Truth, come to my Afiiftance. I 
 have been very idle, and I am very forry, 
 Truth, Truth) cfcme to my Afiiftance. 
 
 He fainted away with Terror, as he 
 {poke, but, when- he recovered, found 
 himfelf within the Caflle, the bright Fi- 
 gure of 'Truth fmiling upon him : and For- 
 givenefS) another very amiable Form, dif- 
 tinguimed by a Slate, and a Spunge, with 
 which me wiped out all Faults, carefling 
 him. Indeed ibe had need, for he felt 
 
 himfelf
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 105 
 
 himfelf a little ftiff, and fore, with fame 
 rough Methods, that had been ufed to 
 bring him to himfelf. Thefe two Nymphs 
 configned him to the Care of Amend- 
 ment^ who promifed never to forfake him, 
 till he got to the Top of the Cattle : and, 
 under her Guidance, he went on very 
 cheerfully. 
 
 
 
 Indeed he was a little vexed at the firft 
 Steps he came to, on finding hfmfelf ftruclc 
 pretty hard by an angry looking Man : 
 but when he found, that it was only in 
 order to return him his Staff, and his Spar, 
 he thanked him for his friendly Blow, and 
 from that Time proceeded with double 
 Alacrity. He foon overtook his Compa- 
 nions again, and you may imagine, how 
 joyful was the Meeting, between him and 
 Henry, who loved him too well, not to go- 
 on very melancholy, while George had 
 ftaid behind. How I rejoiced, faid he, to 
 fee you under the Conduct of the Lady 
 Amendment : Now nothing can ever part us 
 more. 
 
 F 5
 
 io6 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 The poetical Gallery, the Saloon of 
 Hiftory, afforded them new Delight. In 
 every Room, through which they paft, 
 were Tables covered with Gems, Medals, 
 little Images, Seals, Intaglios, and all 
 Kinds of Curiofities, of which, they were 
 afllired, that the more they took, the more 
 welcome they mould be. 
 
 But here George was a Httle perplexed 
 again. His Pockets were filled over and 
 ever : dill, as he came to new Treafures, 
 he was forced to throw afide the old ones, 
 to make Room : yet was told, that it 
 would not be taken well, if he did not 
 keep them all. At hft he came fortu- 
 nately into a Room of poliihed Steel, where, 
 on a Throne of Jafper, fat a Lady, with 
 a Crown upon her Head, of the brighteft 
 Jewels. Upon her Robe was woven, in 
 the livelieft Colours and perfectly diftincl:, 
 though in Miniature, every Thing, that 
 the World contains. She had Steel Tab- 
 lets in her Hand, on which me was always 
 engraving fomething excellent : and oi> 
 6 the
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 107 
 the rich Diadem, that encircled her Fore~ 
 head, was embroidered the Word Memory, 
 
 You could not, faid fhe to George, have 
 applied to a properer Perfon than to me, to 
 help you out of your prefent Difficulty. 
 She then gave him a Cabinet, fo fmall, 
 and fo light, that he could carry it without 
 the leaft Inconvenience : and, at the fame 
 Time, fo rich and elegant, .that no Snuff- 
 Box, fet with Diamonds, was ever more 
 ornamented. It had Millions of little 
 Drawers, all clafled and numbered: and 
 in thefe, he found all the fine Things he 
 had been fo incumbered with, ranged in- 
 their proper Order. 
 
 The only Thing I infift on, faid fhe, is 
 that you will keep your Drawers exactly 
 clean, and never litter them with Trafh. 
 If you fluff them, with what does not 
 deferve a Place, they will no longer be 
 capable of containing real Treafures : but 
 the Bottom of the Cabinet will become 
 F 6 directly
 
 io8 A FAIRY TALE. 
 
 directly like a Sieve : and if Malice or Ri- 
 fentment ever petfuade you, to put in ac.y 
 Thing out of their Shops, you will foon, 
 find every Drawer infefted with Snakes- and 
 Adders. But above all Things value the 
 Gifts of Tvuth) Gratitude^ and Friend/hip^ 
 which will fill them with conitant Perfume, 
 that ihall make you agreeable to every 
 
 Body* 
 
 I 
 
 Thus furnimed, George proceeded joy- 
 fully,, and afcended from one Apartment 
 to another, till he became poffeft of all the 
 Treafures of the Caftle. Sometimes Ima- 
 gination led him into delightful Gardens, 
 gay tvith perpetual Spring. Sometimes, 
 from Entrances dug into the folid Rock, 
 (on the Side of the Apartments oppofite to* 
 the Windows) . he wandered through the 
 Mines of Science, and brought from thence, 
 Riches that had not yet been difcovered. 
 The Holidays always found him cheerfully 
 glad to go with them ; bin not impatient 
 for their Approach, and equally glad to 
 return,, when they flew back. Whenever 
 
 he
 
 A FAIRY TALE. 109 
 
 he returned, he was received with Honour, 
 and crowned with Wreaths of Bays and 
 Laurel. He became a Favourite with the 
 Virtues,, and the Graces, and at lad was 
 led, by them to the Top of the Caftle r 
 where Reputation, and Prudence waited to 
 receive him, and conduct him through a 
 fair Plain, that was ftretched out along the 
 Top of the Mountain, and terminated by 
 the glittering Temple of Felicity* 
 
 I M I T
 
 IMITATIONS 
 
 O F 
 
 O S S IAN
 
 . 
 
 . 
 -
 
 WH Y doft Thou not vifit my Hall, 
 Daughter of the gentle Smile? 
 Thou art in thy Hall of Joy : The Feaft 
 of Shells is fpread : the Bards are aflem- 
 bled around. Sad I (it alone* and liften to 
 the beating Rain. The Gale founds hollow 
 in the Eaft, but no Mufic cmes on the 
 Blaft, to my folitary Ear. The red Coals 
 glow fullenly in my Grate, but they mould 
 blaze cheerfully for Thee. Why doft thou 
 not vifit my Hall, Daughter of the gentle 
 Smile ? 
 
 Thy Fame (hall be heard in the Song, 
 for the Bards aflemble at thy Call, Whan 
 1 go to the narrow Houfe, Silence mall 
 
 reft
 
 iH IMTTATION I. 
 
 reft upon my Memory. For lonely I fit 
 all the Day, and liften to the darning Rain. 
 The keen Wind whittles at my Gate, and 
 drives away the timid Gueft. Dark Boats 
 pafs by on the fwift Stream, but no Paf- 
 ienger lands at my Hall. Thou too, O 
 fweet Daughter of the Smile* didft fail by 
 over the blue Wave, when the Voice * of 
 Joy was in the Hall of Kings. But The- 
 rina pad the Day filent and folitary. Whea 
 a thcufand Oaks flamed beyond the Stream, 
 Ihc faw the diftant Blaze, like the red 
 Streaks of the fetting Sun. She heard the 
 Murmur of the diftant Shouts; and at lad 
 through the dark Air, (he faw the ap- 
 proacing Torch, that lighted back her 
 Friends, from the Feaft of empty Shells. 
 She ran to meet them through the lonely 
 Hall : and the Wind lifted her Cloke. 
 
 Will no Voice reply to my Song ? I too 
 have a Harp, which the Winds fweeps with 
 ks Wings. 
 
 * The Coronation. 
 
 I MIT A-
 
 IMITATION II, 
 
 THERINA AND CARTHONA. 
 
 TH E R I N A. 
 
 DAUGHTER of the Song, why 
 is thy Look penfive ? Why doft 
 thou regard me with an Eye of Compaf- 
 fion ? 
 
 CARTHONA. 
 
 Thy melancholy Strain pierced mjr 
 Heart. I view thee already as in the nar- 
 row Houfe, where all is Silence and Dark- 
 nefs. I look upon thee as a Diamond bu- 
 ried deep in the Rock, when it ought to/ 
 be flaming on an imperial Diadam. 
 
 TH E R i N AC
 
 u6 I M I T AT I O N II. 
 
 T H E R I N A. 
 
 Partial is thine Eye, kind Daughter of 
 Harmony, and idly fictitious was my plain- 
 tive Strain. My Expectations look beyond 
 the narrow Houfe, and the View termi- 
 nates in Splendour. Yet I am not a Dia- 
 mond, O Carthona, but a feeble Glow- 
 worm of the E^rth, whofe fickly Luftre 
 would go out in open Day, and is beheld 
 to Advantage, only from being judicioufly 
 placed amidft Obfcurity. 
 
 CART HO N A.. 
 
 Lowly Daughter of Indolence, thou 
 doft not well to acquiefce in the meaneft, 
 and moil ufelefs Form of Being, who 
 mighteft warble on a Bough with the Songf- 
 trcfles of the Grove, or fhine on- gay 
 Wings, with the Flutterers of the Air. 
 
 T H E R i N A. 
 
 I was once a Butterfly, O Carthona, and 
 my Exiftence was moft dcfpicable. The 
 Glow-worm in its low Eftate, is pleafing 
 
 to
 
 IMITATION II. -117 
 
 to the Eye, that approaches it near : is 
 ufeful fometimes, to direcl the Steps of 
 the benighted Traveller. 
 
 CARTHONA. 
 
 Daughter of Indolence ! Thy Difcourfc 
 is idle and ingrateful. 
 
 T H E R I N A. 
 
 Hear then, O Carthona ! the Reverfe of 
 my plaintive Strains, and may it found 
 fweet in thine Ears. Thou art pleafed with 
 the Tale of Malvina, who attended the 
 blind Age of Oflian, emphatically blind ! 
 Her Form rifes elegant to thy Mind, and 
 the Voice of her Praife founds melodious 
 to thy Fancy. Yet what is the Fame of 
 Malvina ? And what was the Merit of 
 Oflian ? The Threads of my Life, O Car- 
 thona, though homely, are woven amid 
 othens of ineftimable Tincture. The Ties 
 of indiffoluble Friendmip have mingled 
 them among Threads of pureft Gold, the 
 .richeft Purple, and the brighteft Silver. 
 
 Such
 
 ti8 IMITATION & 
 
 Such are the durable Textures, which 
 Heaven has framed in the Loom of civi- 
 lized Society : While the fcattered Threads 
 of Fingal's Days are like Autumnal Cob- 
 webs, toft by Winds from Thorn to Thorn : 
 whence fome few of peculiar Whhenefs 
 are collected by the mufmg Bard, when 
 folitary he roams, amid the pathlefs Wild. 
 
 IMITA-
 
 TRUE Oflian, I delight in Songs : 
 Harmony fooths my Soul. It fooths 
 it O Oflian, but it raifes it far above thefe 
 grafly Clods, and rocky Hills. It exalts it 
 above the vain Phantoms of Clouds, the 
 /andering Meteors of the Night. 
 
 Liften in thy Turn, thou fad Son of 
 Fingal, to the lonely Dweller of the Rock. 
 Let thy Harp reft for a while, and thy 
 Thoughts ceafe to retrace the War and 
 Bloodfhed, of the Days that are paft. 
 Sightlefs art Thou O Oflian, and fad is 
 thy failing Age. Thine Ear is to the hol- 
 low Blaft, and thy Expectation is clofed in 
 the narrow Houfe. Thy Memory is of 
 the Deeds -of thy Fathers > and thy Fathers 
 where are they ? What O Oflian, are thofe 
 
 Deeds
 
 120 IMITATION III. 
 
 Deeds of other Times ? They are Hor- 
 ror, and Blood, and Defolation. 
 
 Harp of Offian be ftill. Why doft thou 
 found in the Blaft, and wake my fleeping 
 Fancy ? Deep and long has been its Re- 
 pofe. Solid are the Walls that furround 
 me. The idle Laugh enters not here : 
 Why then fliould the idler Tear? Yet 
 Offian I would weep for Thee : I would 
 weep for Thee, Malvina. But rny Days 
 are as the Flight of an Arrow. Shall the 
 Arrow turn afide from its Mark ? 
 
 Bright was thy Genius, Offian ! But 
 Darknefs was in thy Heart : It fhrank 
 from the Light of Heaven. The lonely 
 Dweller of the Rock, fang, in vain, to thy 
 deafened Ear. The Grecian was not blind 
 like Thee. On him the true Sun never 
 dawned : yet he fung, though erroneous 
 of all-ruling Providence, and faintly looked 
 wp to the Parent of Gods and Men. Thy 
 vivid Fancy O Offian, what beheld it but 
 a cloudy Fingal ? Vain in the Pride of An- 
 
 ceftry,
 
 IMITATION III. i2i 
 
 ceftry, thou remained by Choice an Or- 
 phan, in an Orphan World. Did never the 
 Dweller of the Rock point out to thy 
 friendlefs Age, a Kindred higher than the 
 Heaven ? A Brotherhood wide as the 
 World ? A Staff to thy failing Steps ? A 
 Light to thy fightlefs Soul ? And didft 
 thou reject them, OfTian ? What then is 
 Genius, but a Meteor Brightnefs ? The 
 Humble, the Mild, the Simple, the Un- 
 eloquent, with peaceful Steps followed their 
 welcome Paftor, into fair Meads of ever- 
 
 lailing Verdure. While Thou fatteft 
 
 gloomy on the Storm-beaten Hill, and re- 
 peating to the angry Blaft, the Boaft of 
 human Pride : the Tales of Devaflation of 
 War : the Deeds of other Times. Far 
 
 other Times are thefe Ah would they 
 
 were ! For Hill Deftruction fpreads : flill 
 human Pride rifes with the Tygers of the 
 Defart, and makes its horrid Boaft ! 
 
 VOL. II. G ALLE*

 
 ALLEGORIES.
 
 HO 
 

 
 [ 125 ] 
 
 IF I was not quite fick of the Number 
 of ftupid Dreams, which have been writ 
 in Imitation of thofe excellent ones pub- 
 lilhed in the Spectators, Tatlers, and fome 
 later periodical Papers, I fhould be ex- 
 ceedingly tempted to fall into fome allego- 
 rical Slumbers. After this Declaration, I 
 know not why I may not actually do it , 
 fince 1 fee People, in a hundred other In- 
 ftances, feem to imagine that cenfuring 
 any Thing violently, is amply fufficient to 
 excufe their being guilty of it. 
 
 Suppofe me then compofed in my eafy 
 Chair, after having long meditated on that 
 old and threadbare Comparifon of human 
 Life to a Play. To this, my Imagination 
 iurnifhes Abundance of Scenery j and the 
 G 3 Trait
 
 126 A L L E G d R Y I. 
 
 Train of my Thoughts go on juft as well, 
 after my Eye3 are clofed, as it did before. 
 
 As I have yet but a very inconfiderable 
 Part in the Performance, I have Leifure 
 enough to ftand between the Scenes, and 
 to amuie myfelf with various Speculations. 
 Fortunately for me, I am placed near 4 
 Perfon, who can give me fufEcient Infor- 
 mation of the whole Matter, fince indeed 
 this venerable Perfon is no other, than the 
 originally intended Direclrefsof theTheatre, 
 Wifdom by Name : but being of a Temper 
 above entering into all the little Difputes 
 of the Actors, Ihe has fuflfered her Place 
 to be ufurped by a Multitude of Preten- 
 tiers, who mix the vileft of Farces, and 
 tfaesbfurdeft of Tragedies, with the no- 
 bkft Drama in the World. 
 
 Thefe deftruclive Interlopers were bufily 
 inftructing all the Actors, as they appeared 
 upon the Stage, and indeed one might 
 eafily fee the Effects of their Teaching. 
 Scarce one in fifty repeated a fingle Line 
 * with
 
 A L L E G O R Y I. 127 
 
 whh a natural and unaffected Air. Every 
 Feature was diftorted by Grimace : Many 
 a good Sentiment outree by the Emphafis, 
 with which it was pronounced. 
 
 Would it not put one quite out of Pa- 
 tience, faid my Neighbour, to fee that 
 FeHow there, fo entirely fpoil one of the 
 fineft Paflages in the Play, by turning it 
 into a mere Rant ? Is there any bearing 
 that Man, who pretending to act the Lover, 
 puts on all the Airs of a mad Man ? Why 
 Sir, do you think that graceful Figure, 
 that Senfe, and all thofe Advantages, you 
 were dreft with, in order to do Honour to 
 my Company, were given you, only trrac 
 you might walk about the Stage, fighing 
 and exclaiming ? Pray let me caft an Eye 
 upon your Part. Look ye, are here any 
 of thofe Soliloquies that you are every 
 Moment putting in ? Why, here is not a 
 fmgle Word of Mifery, Death, Torment. 
 The Lover waking out of his Reverie, 
 pointed to a Prompter that ftood at a little 
 G 4 Diftancc*
 
 128 A L L E G O R Y I. 
 
 Diftance, when Wifdom perceived it to be 
 bufy Imagination. She only, with an Air 
 of Companion, drew the poor Youth to 
 her Side of the Stage, and begged he would 
 keep out of the Hearing of fo bad a Di- 
 rector. 
 
 . 
 
 The next, we happened to attend to, 
 was a young Woman, of a moft amiable 
 Figure, who flood pretty near us, but the 
 Good- nature in her Countenance was mixed 
 with a Kind of haughty Difdain, whenever 
 {he turned towards Imagination that did 
 net abfolutely pleafe me. I remarked 
 upon it to my Friend, and we jointly ob- 
 icrved her ftealing Leifure from her Part, 
 ^o look over the whole Scheme of the 
 Drama. That Actrefs, fays fhe, has a 
 moft charming Genius, but fhe too has a 
 'Irai'ers in it. Becaufe fhe has feen fome 
 Love Scenes, in the Play, ridiculoufly 
 acted, and heard them cenfured by thofe, 
 whofe Judgment (he reipects, and efpeci 
 ally becaufe (he is very juftly difpleafed 
 
 with
 
 ALLEGORY I. 129 
 
 with all the bombaft Stuff, Imagination puts 
 into them, (he will, againft her Senfes be- 
 lieve, there is fcarce a fingle Line about it, 
 in the whole Drama : and there you may 
 fee her ftriking out, for fpurious, Paflages 
 that have warmed the nobleil Hearts with 
 generous Sentiments, and gained a juft: 
 Applaufe from Socrates and Plato them- 
 felves : two of the fineft Actors, I ever 
 had. This is, however, an Error on the 
 right Side. Happy for you, young Ac- 
 trefs, if you never fall into a worfe. She 
 may indeed mifs of faying an agreeable 
 Thing, but Ihe never will fay an abfurd 
 one. 
 
 Look yonder, and you will fee more 
 dangerous, and more ridiculous Miftakes. 
 That Group of young Actors, juft entering 
 on the Stage, who cannot poffibly have 
 beheld more than half a Scene, pretend al- 
 ready, in a decifive Way,to give their Judg- 
 ment of the whole. They do not fo much 
 as wait for their Cue, (which Years and 
 G 5 Dii-
 
 igo A L L E G O H Y I. 
 Difcretion ought to give them) but thriift 
 iorward into the very Middle of the Action. 
 Some of them, difpleafed with the Deco- 
 rations of their Part of the Theatre, are 
 bufifd in hurrying the Tinfel Ornaments, 
 from the other Corners of it, where they 
 *vere much more becomingly placed. That 
 Man yonder, who ought to be acting the 
 Part of a Hero, is fo -taken up with ad- 
 jufting his Drefs, and that of his Compa- 
 nions, that he never once feems to think 
 of the Green-Room, where all thefe Robes 
 mnft foon be laid afide. 
 
 Look yonder, look yonder ! This is a 
 pitiable Sight indeed. Behold that Wo- 
 man exquifitely handfome ilill, though 
 much pad the Bloom of Youth, and formed 
 to mine in any Part, but fo unhappily at- 
 tached to that, (he has juft left, that her 
 Head is ablblutely turned behind her : fo 
 unwilling is (lie to lofe Sight of her be- 
 loved Gaieties, 
 
 Jn
 
 ALLEGORY I. 131 
 
 In another Place you may fee Perfons, 
 who, fenfible that the fplendid Drefies of' 
 the Theatre are only lent them, for a 
 Time, difdain, with a fullen ill-judged 
 Prkie, to put them on at all, and fo dif- 
 grace the Parts, that were allotted them* 
 for their own Advantage. 
 
 Alas what a different Prompter has that 
 Actor got ! He was defigned to reprefent 
 a Character of Generofity, and, for that 
 Purpofe, furnMried with a large Treafure 
 of Counters, which it was his Bufinefs to 
 difpofc of in the moft graceful Manner, to 
 thofe Actors engaged in the 'fame Scene 
 with him.- Inftead of this, that old Fel- 
 low, Intereft, who ftands at his Elbow, has 
 prompted him to put rhe whole Bag into 
 his Pocket, as if the Counters themfelves 
 were of real Value': whereas the Moment: 
 he fets his Foot off the Stage, or is hur- 
 ried down, through fome of thofe Trap- 
 Doors, that are every Moment opening 
 rowfid him, tfeefe Tinfel Pieces are no 
 G-6 longeir
 
 132 A L L E G O R Y I. 
 
 longer current. To conceal, in fome Mea- 
 fure, the Falfenefs of this Behaviour, he 
 is forced to leave out a hundred fine Paf- 
 fages, intended to grace his Character, 
 end to occafion unnumbered Chafms, and 
 Jnconfiftencies, which not only make him 
 <hifled, but the very Scheme of the Drama 
 murmured at. Yet ftill he perfifts : and 
 fee ! juft now, when he ought to be grace- 
 fully treading the Stage with a fuperior 
 Air ; he is ftooping down to pick up fome 
 more Counters that happen to be fallen 
 upon the dirty Floor, made dirty on Pur- 
 pofe for the Difgrace of thofe who chufe to 
 grovel there. 
 
 You can fcarce have an Idea, added my 
 Inftructrefs, how infinitely the Harmony of 
 the whole Piece is interrupted, by the 
 Mifufe which thefe wrong-headed Actors 
 make of its mere Decorations. The Part 
 you have to act, Child, is a very fmali one. 
 But remember, it is infinitely fuperior to 
 every fuch Attachment, Fip your Atten- 
 tion
 
 ALLEGORY I. 133 
 
 tion upon its Meaning , not its Ornaments. 
 Let your Manner be juft, and unaffeded ; 
 your Air cheerful and difengaged. Never 
 pretend to look beyond the prefent Page : 
 and above all, truft the great Author of 
 the Drama, with his own glorious Work : 
 and never think to mend what is above 
 your Underftanding, by minute Criticifms, 
 that are below it. 
 
 
 ALLE-
 
 C 134 1 
 
 
 
 ALLEGORY II. 
 
 METHOUGHT as I was fitting 
 at Work, a young Woman came 
 into the Room, clothed in a loofe green 
 Garment. Her long Hair fell in Ringlets 
 upon her Shoulders : Her Head was 
 crowned with Roles and Myrtles. A pro- 
 digious Sweetnefs appeared in her Counte- 
 nance, and notwithftanding the Irregularity 
 of her Features, and a certain Wildnefs in 
 her Eyes, fhe feemed to me the moft 
 agreeable Perfon I had ever beheld. 
 
 When fhe was entered, (he prefented me 
 with a little green Branch, upon which 
 was>a imail Sort of Nut enclofed in a hard 
 black Shell, which {he faid was both whol- 
 fbme and delicious, and bid me follow her, 
 
 and.
 
 ALLEGORY II. 135 
 
 and not be afraid, for ihe was going to 
 make me happy. 
 
 I did as fhe commanded me, and im- 
 mediately a Chariot defcended, and took 
 us up. It was made of the richeft Mate- 
 rials, and drawn by four Milk-white Tur- 
 tles. \Yhilil we were hurried with a rapid 
 Motion, over vatl Oceans, boundlefs Plains, 
 and barren Defarts, Hie told me, that her 
 Name was Imagination \ that (he was car- 
 jying me to Parnaffus, where me herfelf 
 lived. 
 
 I had fcarce Time to thank her, before 
 we arrived at the Top of a very high 
 Mountain, covered with very thick Woods. 
 Here we alighted : and my Guide taking 
 me by the Hand, we paft through feveral 
 beautiful Groves of Myrtle, Bays, and 
 Laurel, feparated from one another by little 
 green Alleys, enamelled with the fineft 
 Flowers. Nothing was to be heard but 
 the. milling of Leaves, the humming of 
 Bees, the warbling of Birds, and the pur- 
 ling
 
 136 A L L E G O R Y II. 
 
 ling of Streams : and in (hort, this Spot 
 feemed to be a Paradife. 
 
 After wandering fome Time in this de- 
 lightful Place, we came to a long Grafs- 
 Walk ; at the further End of which, in a 
 Bower of Jeffamins and Woodbines, ftrewed 
 with Flowers, fat a Woman of a middle 
 Age, but of a pleafing Countenance. Her 
 Hair was finely braided : and fhe wore a 
 Habit of changeable Silk. 
 
 When we approached her me was weav- 
 ing Nets of the fineft Silk, which (he im- 
 mediately threw down, and embraced me. 
 I was furpri^ed at fo much Civility from 
 a Stranger; which (he perceiving, bid me 
 not wonder at the Kindnefs, (he mowed for 
 me, at firft Sight, fmce, befides my being 
 in the Company of that Lady, (pointing 
 to Imagination] which was Recommenda- 
 tion enough, my own Perfon would entitle 
 me to the Favour of all, who faw me : 
 but, added (he, you have had a long Walk,. 
 5 and
 
 A L L E G O R Y IT. 137 
 
 "and want Reft ; come and fit down in my 
 Bower. 
 
 Though this Offer would, at another 
 Time have been very acceptable to me, yet 
 fo great was my Defire of feeing the Mufes, 
 that I begged to be excufed, and to have 
 Permiflion to purfue my Journey. Being 
 informed by Imagination where we were 
 going, (he commended my laudable Curi- 
 ofity, and faid, flie would accompany us. 
 As we went along, me told me, her Name 
 was Good-Will, and that me was a great 
 Friend to the Mufes, and to the Lady, 
 who brought me hither, whom me had 
 brought up from a Child ; and had faved 
 her from being carried away by Severity 
 and III- Humour, her inveterate Enemies. 
 
 When (he had done fpeaking, we arrived 
 at the happy Place, I had fo much wilhed 
 to fee. It was a little circular Opening, at 
 the upper End of which fat, on a Throne 
 of the mod fragrant Flowers, a young 
 Man, in a Flame-coloured Garment, of a
 
 138 A L L G O R Y II. 
 
 noble, but haughty Countenance. He was 
 crowned with Laurel, and held a Harp in 
 his Hand. Round him fat nine beautiful 
 young Women, who all played upon mu- 
 fical Inftruments. Thefe, Imagination told 
 me, were Apollo and the Mufes. But above 
 all the reft, there were three that I molt 
 admired, and who feemed fondeft of me* 
 
 One of thefe was clothed in a loofe, and 
 carelefs Manner, me was repofecl on a Bank 
 of Flowers, and fung with a fweeter Voice 
 than any of the others. The Garment of 
 the fecond was put on with the greateft 
 Care and Exactnefs, and richly embroidered 
 with the gayeft Colours, but it did not 
 feem to fit her. But it was the third whom 
 I moft admired. She "was crowned with 
 Rofes and a Variety of other Flowers. She 
 played upon all the Inftruments, and never 
 ftaid five Minutes in a Place. 
 
 Juftas I was going to fit down to a fine 
 Repaft, which they had prepared for me 
 of die Fruits of the Mountain, we faw two 
 
 grave-
 
 A L L E G O R Y II. 13$ 
 
 grave-looking Men advancing towards us. 
 Immediately Imagination fhrieked out, and 
 Good-Will faid fhe had great Reaibn, for 
 thofe were Severity and Ill-Humour ', who 
 had like to have run away with her when 
 but a Child, as me had told me before. 
 You too, added flie, may be in Danger, 
 therefore come into the Midft x>f us. 
 
 I did fo : and by this Time the two Men 
 were come up. One of them was com- 
 pletely armed, and held a Mirror in his 
 Hand. The other wore a long Robe, and 
 held, in one Hand, a Mariner's Compafs, 
 and in the other, a Lanthorn. They foon 
 pierced to the Center of our little Troop ; 
 and the firft, with much ado, at length 
 forced me from the only two, who ftill 
 held out againll them, and made me 
 hearken to the other, who bid me not be 
 afraid, and told me, though I might be 
 prejudiced againft him and his Companion, 
 by thofe I had lately been with, yet they 
 had a greater DeGre of my Happinefs, and 
 would jdo more towards it. But faid he, if 
 
 you
 
 r 4 o ALLEGORY II. 
 
 you have eat any of that Fruit, which you 
 have in your Hand, of which the real 
 Name is Oljimacy^ all I can fay, will be 
 ineffectual. 
 
 I afTured him, 1 had not tafted this fatal 
 Fruit. He faid he was very glad of it, 
 and bid me throw it down and follow him, 
 which I did, till by a morter Way, we 
 came to the Brow of the Mountain. When 
 we were there, he told me, the only 
 Way to deliver myfelf from the Danger I 
 was then in, was to leap down into the 
 Plain below. As the Mountain feemed 
 very deep, and the Plain very barren, I 
 could neither perfuade myfelf to obey, nor 
 had I Courage to difobey him. 
 
 I thus ftood wavering for fome Time, 
 till the Man in Armour pumed me down, 
 as Mentor did Telemachus. When I was 
 recovered from the firft Shock of my Fall, 
 how great was my Surprize to find this 
 Paradife of the World^ this delighful 
 
 Mour> 
 
 '
 
 A L L E G O R Y IT. 141 
 
 Mountain, was raifed to that prodigious 
 Height, by mere empty Clouds. 
 
 After they had given me fome Time to 
 wonder, He, who held the Lanthorn in 
 his Hand told me, that the Place before 
 me was the Mount of Folly. That Imagi- 
 nation was Romance, Good-Will was Flat- 
 tery> Apollo was Bombajl. That the two 
 falfe Mufes who tried moft to keep me 
 from coming with them, were Self -Conceit 
 and Idlenefs : that the others were Incon- 
 Jlancy, Falfe- < TaJle t Ignorance and Affeftaticn 
 her Daughter, Entbufwfm of Poetry, Cre- 
 dulity a great Promoter of their defpotic 
 Dominion, and Fantafticalnefs, who took 
 as many Hearts as any of the reft. 
 
 I thanked him for this Information, and 
 told him, that it would almoft equal the 
 Joy of my Deliverance, to know the Names 
 of my Deliverers. He told me his own 
 was Good-Advice, and his Corr.paiion's 
 Good-Senfe his Brother, and born at the 
 fame Time. He added, that if I liked 
 
 their
 
 A L L E G O R Y II. 
 
 their Company, they would, after having 
 (hewn me the many thoufand Wretches, 
 whom my falfe Friends had betrayed, con- 
 dud: me to the Abode of Application and 
 Pet -fever -ance^ the Parents of all the Virtues. 
 
 I told him that nothing could afford me 
 a more fenfiWe Pleafure. Then, faid he, 
 prepare yourfelf for a Scene of Horror : 
 and immediately, with the Help of his 
 Brother, he lifted up the Mountain, and 
 difcovered to my Sight a dark and hollow 
 Vale, where under the Shade of Cyprefs 
 and Yew, lay in the utmoft Mifery, Mul- 
 titudes of unhappy Mortals, moftly young 
 Women, run away with by Romance. When 
 I had left this dreadful Spot, and the 
 Mountain was clofed upon them, juft as I 
 was going to be good and happy, fome un- 
 fortunate Accident awaked me. 
 
 POETRY.
 
 POETRY.
 
 [ 145 ] 
 
 O E T R Y. 
 
 AWAKE my Laura, break the filkerv 
 Chain, 
 
 AwakemyFriend,to Hours unfoil r d by Pain: 
 Awake to peaceful Joys and Thought refin'd, 
 Youth's cheerful Morn, and Virtue's vigo- 
 rous Mind : 
 
 Wake to all Joys, fair Friendfhip can beftow, 
 All that from Health, and profp'rous For- 
 tune flow. 
 Still doft Thou deep ? awake imprudent 
 
 Fair, 
 
 Few Hours has Life, and few of thofc 
 can fpare. 
 
 Porfake thy drowfy Couch, and fprightly 
 
 rife 
 While yet frefh Morning ftreaks the ruddy 
 
 Skies : 
 VOL. U. H White
 
 146 POETRY. 
 
 While yet the Birds their early Mattins fing, 
 And all around is blooming as the Spring. 
 Kre fultry Phoebus with his fcorching Ray 
 1 las drank the Dew-drops from their Man- 
 
 fion gay, 
 Scorch'd ev'ry Flow'r, embrown'd each 
 
 drooping Green 
 Pall'd the pure Air, and chas'd the pleafing 
 
 Scene. 
 Still dolt Thou fleep ? O rife imprudent 
 
 Fair, 
 Few Hours has Life, nor of thofe few 
 
 can fpare. 
 
 But this perhaps,was but aSummer Song, 
 And Winter Nights are dark, and cold and 
 
 long: 
 Weak Reafon that, for fleeping paft the 
 
 Morn 
 
 Yet urg'd by Sloth, and by Indulgence born. 
 Oh rather hafte to rife, my flumb'ring Friend, 
 WhilefeebleSunstheirfcanty Influence lend* 
 While cheerful Day-light yet adorns the 
 
 Skies 
 
 Awake my Friend ! my Laura hafte to rife. 
 
 For
 
 POETRY. 147 
 
 For foon the uncertain fhort-liv'd Day (hall 
 
 fail, 
 
 And foon (hall Night extend herfooty Veil: 
 Blank Nature fades, black Shades and 
 
 Phantoms drear 
 Hannt the fick Eye, and fill the Co'urt of 
 
 Fear. 
 
 O therefore fleep no more, imprudent. 
 Fair [cling Year, 
 
 Few Hours has Day, few Days the cir- 
 Few Years has Life, and few of thefe 
 can fpare. 
 
 "l 
 
 tf 
 
 Think of the Tafk thofe Hours have yet 
 in view, 
 
 Reafon to arm, and Pafllon to fubdue ; 
 
 \Vhile Life's fair Calm, and flatt'ring Mo- 
 ments laft 
 
 To fence your Mind againft the ftormy 
 Blaft: 
 
 Early to hoard bleft Wifdom*s Peace- , 
 fraught Store ' [Shore, 
 
 Ere yet your Bark forfakes the friendly 
 
 And the Winds whittle, and the Billows 
 roar. 
 
 H 2 Imperfect
 
 i 4 8 P O E T R Y. 
 
 Imperfect Beings! weakly arm'd to bear 
 Pleafure's foft Wiles, or Sorrow's open War; 
 Alternate Shocks from different Sides to 
 
 feel, 
 
 Now to fubdue the Hearr, and now to (leel : 
 Yet fram'd with high Afpirings, ftrong 
 
 De fires, 
 How mad th* Attempt to quench celeflial 
 
 Fires ! 
 
 Still to Perfection tends the reftlefs Mind 
 And Happinefs its bright Reward affign'd. 
 And fhall dull Sloth obicure theHeav'n--. 
 
 beam'd Ray, [Day, I 
 
 That guides our Paffage to the Realms of > 
 Cheers the faint Heart, and points the 1 
 
 dubious W T ay ! 
 
 Not weakly arm'd, if ever on our Guard, 
 Nor to the worft unequal if prepar'd : 
 Not unfurmountable the Tafk, if lov'd, 
 Nor fhort the Time, if ev'ry Hour im- 
 
 prov'd. 
 O roufe thee then, nor (hun the glorious 
 
 Strife 
 Extend, improve, enjoy thy Hours of 
 
 Life;; 
 
 AfTert
 
 POETRY. 149 
 
 Afiert thy Reafon, animate thy Heart, 
 And aft thro' Life's fhort Scene the 
 
 ufeful Part : 
 Then fleep in Peace, by gentleft Mem'ry 
 
 crown'd, 
 Till Time's vail Year has fill'd its pcrfeft 
 
 Round. 
 
 H 3 0*
 
 On Reading the Lave Elegies, 1742. 
 
 HITHER your Wreaths, ye droop- 
 ing Mufes, bring 
 The fhort-lived Rofe, that blooms but 
 
 to decay ; 
 Love's fragrant Myrtles, that in Paphoa 
 
 fprlng, 
 And deathlefs Poetry's immortal Bay; 
 
 And Oh thou gentleft Shade accept the 
 Verfe 
 
 Mean though it be, and artlefsly fincere 
 That penfive thus attends thy filent Hearfe 
 
 And fteals,infecretShades,the piousTear. 
 
 What Heart, by Heav'n with gen'rous 
 
 Softnefs bleft, 
 
 Butin thy Lines its nativeLangnage reads? 
 Where haplefs Love, in Gallic Plainnefs 
 
 dreft, 
 
 Gracefully mourns, and elegantly bleeds. 
 
 In
 
 POETRY. 151 
 
 In vain, alas, thy Fancy fondly gay 
 Trac'd the fair Scenes of dear domeftic 
 
 Life, 
 The fportive Loves forfook their wanton 
 
 Play, 
 
 To paint for Thee the Miftrefs, Friend 
 and Wife. 
 
 One caught from Delia's Lips the win- 
 ning Smile, 
 
 One from her Eyes his little Soul infpir'd: 
 Then feiz'd thy Pen, and fmooth'd thy 
 
 flowing Style, 
 
 Then wept, and trembled, and with Sobs 
 admir'd. 
 
 O lucklefs Lover! form'd for better 
 
 Days, 
 
 For golden Years, and Ages long ago, 
 For Thee Perfephone impatient ftays 
 For Thee the Willow and the Cyprefs 
 grow. 
 
 H 4 Writ
 
 152 P O E T R Y. 
 
 Writ on New-Year's-Eve while the 
 Bells were ringing out the Old Year. 
 
 I. 
 
 AGAIN the fmoothly circling Year, 
 Beneath fair Skies ferene and clear, 
 Completes its gentle Round ; 
 Sweet Bells in tuneful Sounds exprefs, 
 Gay Thanks for rural Happinefs, 
 
 And Months with Plenty crown'd. 
 
 II. 
 
 While yet remains the courteous Gneft, 
 
 be my grateful Thoughts expVeft 
 
 Unmix'd with Grief or Fear. 
 Farewel ye Seafons ! roll away 
 
 1 wifh not to prolong your Stay, 
 
 Tho' Age brings up the Rear. 
 
 Cheerful
 
 POETRY. 
 
 III. 
 
 Cheerful I truft, for future Good, 
 The Hand which all the paft beftow'd, 
 
 Nor heed Life's fhifting Scene. 
 Farewcl kind Year, which ftill has bleft 
 My Days ^vith Peace, my Nights with Reft, 
 
 And leav'ft my Mind ferene. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Not yet but now impends the Stroke, 
 The far refounding Midnight Clock 
 
 Has fummon*d Thee away, 
 Go mingle with the countlefs pail, 
 Till Time himielf has liv'd his laft 
 
 In foft Oblivion ftay. 
 
 V. 
 
 But then with fmiling Grace appear, 
 Thou blamelefs, Grief-unfulliecl Year, - 
 
 O fmile once more on me, 
 And witnefs that thy golden Hours 
 Have all oeen priz'd, as Summer Flow'rs 
 
 By fome induftrious Bee. 
 
 H 5 FAIR
 
 154 POETRY. 
 
 I. 
 
 FAIR 'Cbeerfulttefs, Nymph who all 
 Nymphs doft excel, 
 Ah tell me Iweet Cbeerfulnefs, where dolb 
 
 thou dwell ? 
 I would fearch the World round Thee, dear 
 
 Charmer to find, 
 
 And with thy rofy Chaplet my Forehead to 
 bind. 
 
 When, with Thee, (hall I drink of the cleai 
 
 Cryftal Spring, 
 While Birds on the Branches rejoicingly 
 
 fmg? 
 When, with Thee, on the Sun-(hiny Hills 
 
 mall I play, 
 When all Nature around us, looks fiow'ry 
 
 and gay ? 
 
 III. 
 
 Oh why have I loft Thee ? What heedlefs 
 
 Offence, 
 Delightful Companion, has banifh'd Thee 
 
 hence ? 
 
 This
 
 POETRY, 155 
 This Heart, ftill thy own, has admitted no 
 
 Gueft 
 By whom, Thou, deareft Charmer, fhould 
 
 be difpofleit. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Thou ever wert known with Religion to 
 dwell, 
 
 And guild with thy Smiles her contempla- 
 tive Cell : 
 
 With Innocence Thou trippeft light o'er the 
 Green, 
 
 While the blue Sky above fhines all clear 
 and ierene. 
 
 V. 
 
 With Philofophy oft thy gay Moments were 
 
 paft, 
 When Socrates heighten'd the pleafing 
 
 Repaft, 
 
 With Induftry ever Thou loveft to go, 
 Tho' Ihe carry the Milk- Pail, or follow 
 
 the Plough. 
 
 H6 Far
 
 POETRY. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Far away from my Bofom I banHh'd thy 
 
 Foes, 
 Nor admitted one Thought, that could hurt 
 
 thy Repofe : 
 
 Unrefting Ambition^ wild Paffion's Excefs ; 
 Anxiety vain, and romantic Diftrefi. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Indeed giddy Mlrtlo^ and her frolickfomc 
 
 Crew 
 
 But little, if ever, thy Rofalind knew : 
 Yet my Solitude often by Thee has been 
 
 bleft, 
 My Days Thou haft brighten'd, and fweet- 
 
 en'd my Reft. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Why then art Thou gone ? Oh inconftant 
 
 as fair, 
 Art Thou only a Tenant of Summer's fofc 
 
 Air? 
 
 Full
 
 O E T R Y. 157 
 
 Full well did I hope thy perpetual Ray, 
 Should gild with mild Luftre, Life's moft 
 gloomy Day. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Sweet Songftrefs doft Thou with fad Phi- 
 lomel fly, 
 
 To feek in new Climes a more temperate 
 Sky? 
 
 While the Red-Bread all Winter continues 
 to fmg, 
 
 And gladdens its Snows with the Mufic of 
 Spring. 
 
 X. 
 
 Thou frrouldll be, thro* Life, my Com- 
 panion and Guide, 
 
 Come Sicknels, come Sorrow, whatever 
 betide : 
 
 Gift of Heav'n to morten our wearifome 
 Way, 
 
 Thro' the Valley of Toil, to the Regi- 
 ons of Day. 
 
 But
 
 158 POETRY. 
 XI. 
 
 But mechinks, in my Heart {till, (I hear 
 
 Thee reply) 
 I cherifti one Gueft, who conftrains Thee 
 
 to fly ; 
 
 Grey Memcry famous, like Neftor of old, 
 For honied Diicourfes, and Stories twice tcld. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Old Memory often will dwell on a Tale, 
 
 That makes the frefh Rofe in thy Garland 
 grow p-ile : 
 
 Yet what can he tell, that may juftly dif- 
 pleafe 
 
 Thee, whofe Cloud-piercing Eye, all Fu- 
 turity fees ? 
 
 XIII. 
 
 He fpeaks but what Gratitude dictates, and 
 
 Truth, 
 Recals the gay Moments of Friendfhip and 
 
 Youth . 
 
 He tells of paft Pleafures fecurely our own, 
 And fo much of our Journey how happily 
 
 gone. 
 
 3 Thou
 
 POETRY. 159 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Thou knoweft, fair Charmer of Lineage 
 
 divine, 
 That foon the clear Azure unclouded fhall 
 
 fhine : 
 That Life's tranfient Blefllngs the Earneft 
 
 but give 
 Of fuch as from Time fhall no Limits 
 
 receive. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Oh come then, dear Source of Good-Hu- 
 mour and Eafe, 
 
 Who teacheft at once to be pleafed and to 
 pleafe , 
 
 And ever henceforth, with thy Rofalind 
 dwell, 
 
 Sweet Cheerfulne/S) Nymph, who all 
 Nymphs doll excel. 
 
 STANZAS,
 
 160 POETRY. 
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 I. 
 
 WELCOME the real State of Things 
 Ideal World adieu, 
 
 Where Clouds pil'd up by Fancy's Hand 
 Hang lou'ring o'er each View. 
 
 II. 
 
 Here the gay Sunfhine of Content 
 Shall gild each humble Scene : 
 
 And Life (leal on, with gentle Pace, 
 Beneath a Sky ferene. 
 
 III. 
 
 Hefperian Trees amidft my Grove 
 
 I aflc not to behold, 
 Since ev'n from Ovid's Song I know, 
 
 That Dragons guard the Gold. 
 
 Nor
 
 POETRY. id 
 
 IV. 
 
 Nor would I have the Phoenix build 
 
 In my poor Elms his Neft, 
 For where Ihall odorous Gums be found 
 
 To treat the beauteous Gueft ? 
 
 V. 
 
 Henceforth no Pleafure I defirc 
 
 In any wild Extreme, 
 Such as mould lull the captiv'd Mind 
 
 In a bewitching Dream. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Friendfhip I afk, without Caprice 
 When Faults are over feen : 
 
 Errors on both Sides mix'd with Truth 
 And kind Good-will between. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Health, that may beft its Value prove 
 
 By flight Returns of Pain : 
 Amufements to enliven Life, 
 
 CrofTes to prove it vain. 
 
 Thus
 
 POETRY. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Thus would I pafs my Hours away 
 Extra<5ting Good from all : 
 
 Till Time (hall from my Hiding Feet 
 Pufh this uncertain Ball. 
 
 
 STANZA
 
 POETRY. 163 
 
 STANZA II. 
 
 Writ in the Country towards the End 
 of Autumn. 
 
 SPRING, gay Seafon is no more> 
 Summer's golden Reign is o'er. 
 Soon to clofe the varied Year, 
 Hoary Winter fhall appear. 
 
 When the Northern Tempefts blow, 
 When the Hills are hid in Snow, 
 Where fhall drooping Fancy find 
 Scenes to ibothe a rural Mind ? 
 
 When the bufy World refort 
 
 To the gay, the feftive Court, 
 
 Say, within the lonely Cell, 
 
 How fhall fweet Contentment dwell ? 
 
 Shall
 
 164 POETRY. 
 
 Shall not then the tedious Day 
 Sad and filent wear away ? 
 Shall not all the darkfome Night 
 Fondly dream of vain Delight ? 
 
 Shining Scenes fhall vex the Mind 
 To delufive Sleep refign'd, 
 Chas'd by chirping Birds away, 
 At the chilly Dawn of Day. 
 
 Then to turn the ftudious Page 
 Shall the Morning Hours engage: 
 When the Lamps at Ev'ning burn, 
 Still the ftudious Page to turn, 
 
 Or intent with Hand and Eye 
 The laborious Loom to ply, 
 There a mimic Spring to raife, 
 Vain Purfuit of trifling Praife. 
 
 Hence will Fancy often ftray 
 To the Circles of the Gay. 
 Shall fhe not ? then prithee bind 
 In thy Chains the veering Mind. 
 
 As it lifts the Wind may blow, 
 Fancy Jhall her Ruler know, 
 
 Idle
 
 POETRY. 165 
 Idle Being, fhadowy Queen 
 Emprefs of a fairy Scene. 
 
 Summer, Spring, and Autumn paft, 
 Welcome Winter comes at laft : 
 Winter comes, with fober Cheer, 
 Winding up the varied Year. 
 
 When the verdant Scenes are loft, 
 When the Hills are white with Froft, 
 Fancy's idle Reign is done, 
 Reafon's Empire is begun. 
 
 Happy, gay Ones, may you be 
 All your Flours from Sorrow free, 
 To the Happy, to the Gay, 
 Unreprov'd my Thoughts Ihall ftray. 
 
 Pleafant is it to behold, 
 Diftant Mountains tipp'd with Gold, 
 Sunny Landfcapes round us ipread, 
 While our Path is in the Shade. 
 
 Welcome Morpheus, with thy Train, 
 Pleafing Phantoms of the Brain : 
 Welcome Sol's returning Ray, 
 Chirping Birds and dawning Day. 
 
 Welcome
 
 1 66 POETRY. 
 
 Welcome then the facred Lore, x 
 Peaceful Wifdom's endlefs Store; 
 Hours ineftimably dear, 
 Welcome happieft of the Year ! 
 Then the Pencil, then the Loom, 
 Welcome ev'ry mimic Bloom. 
 Health, and Induftry, and Peace, 
 Mufe enough, thy Labour ceafe. 
 
 STANZA
 
 P O E T R Y. 167 
 
 STANZA III. 
 
 O 
 
 Form'd for boundlefs Blifs ! Immor- 
 tal Soul, 
 Why doft thou prompt the melancholy 
 
 Sigh 
 While Evening Shades difclofe the glowing 
 
 Pole, 
 
 And Silver Moon-Beams tremble o'er 
 the Sky. 
 
 Thefe glowing Stars (hall fade, this Moon 
 (hall fall, 
 
 This tranfitory Sky fliall melt away, 
 Whilft Thou triumphantly furviving all 
 
 Shalt glad expatiate in eternal Day. 
 
 Sickens the Mind with Longings vainly 
 
 great, 
 To trace myfterious Wifdom's fecret 
 
 Ways 
 \Vhile chain'd and bound, in this ignoble 
 
 State 
 
 Humbly it breathes fincere, imperfect 
 Praife? Or
 
 1.68 P O E T R Y. 
 
 Or glows the beating Heart with facred Fires 
 And longs tp mingle in the Worlds of 
 
 Love ? 
 
 Or, foolifh Trembler, feeds its fond Defires 
 Of earthly Good ? or dreads Life's Ills 
 to prove ? 
 
 Back does it trace the Flight of former 
 
 Years, 
 The Friends lamented, and the Plea- 
 
 fures paft ? 
 Or vving'd with Forecaft vain, and impious 
 
 Fears, 
 
 Prefumptuous to the Cloud-hid Future 
 hafte? 
 
 Hence, far be gone, ye Fancy fondled 
 
 Pains, 
 Peace, trembling Heart, be ev'ry Sigh 
 
 fuppreft : 
 
 Wifdpm fupreme, eternal Goodnefs reigns, 
 Thus far is fure : to Heav'n refign the 
 reft. 
 
 ODE.
 
 POETRY. 164 
 
 O D 
 
 WH A T art thou, Memory of formed 
 Days, 
 That doft fo fubtly touch the feeling 
 
 Heart ? 
 That know'ft fuch pleafing Sadnefs td 
 
 impart ? 
 
 That doft fuch thrilling dear Ideas raife ? 
 Each wonted Path, each once familiar Place^ 
 Each Object, that at firft but common 
 
 feem'd, 
 
 Beheld again fome Sacrednefs has gain'd, 
 "With Fancy's Hues inexplicably ftain'dj 
 And by Remembrance venerable deem'd. 
 
 VOL. II, I Ntif
 
 i 7 o POETRY. 
 Nt>r idle Workings thefe of Fancy fond, 
 Some folemn Truth the Heav'n-fent Vi- 
 
 fions teach 
 Stretching our Thoughts thefe bounded 
 
 Scenes beyond, 
 And this their Voice, and this the Truth 
 
 they teach. 
 Time pad to Man mould be an awful 
 
 Theme, 
 No Magic can the Fugitive recall : 
 
 t * o * 
 
 If idly loft in Pleafure's Noon-day Dream 
 Or vainly wafted, Paffion's wretched 
 
 Thrall. 
 Know, thou profufc ! that Portion was 
 
 thy AH, 
 That narrow Pittance of - fome fcanty 
 
 Years, 
 Was giv'n TheeO unthinking Fool, to 
 
 buy 
 
 The pricelefs Treafures of Eternity. 
 X^lence frond Remembran-ce prompts' urt- 
 bidden Tears 
 
 An'd
 
 POETRY. 17* 
 
 And fomething fadly folemn mingles ftill, 
 With ev'ry Thought of Time for ever 
 
 gone, 
 
 .Diftinft from paft Events of Good or 111, 
 Or View of Life's iwifc Changes haften- 
 
 ing on. 
 The Sadnefs hence : But hence the Sweet- 
 
 nefs too 
 For well-fpent Time foft whifpers to the 
 
 Mind 
 
 Hopes of a bled Eternity behind, 
 That ev'ry happy Moment fhall renew. 
 Now pleafing Fancy lend thy endlefs Clue, 
 And- thro' the Maze of Bliis our Path- 
 way guide 
 Where bloom unfading Joys on ev'ry 
 
 Side, 
 
 And each gay Windingoffcrs to the View, 
 Here, boundlefs Profpects opening to the 
 
 Sight, 
 
 In full celeftial Glory dazzling bright 
 Increafmg ftill, and ever to increafe : 
 There, the foft Scenes of Innocence and 
 Peace. 
 
 I 2 Thro!;
 
 , 7 2 P Q E T Y:. 
 
 Thro' which, in early Youth, or riper Age a 
 A Hand all gracious leads the virtuous 
 
 F<w, 
 That graceful tread on Life's important 
 
 Stage, 
 
 But fairer now and brighter ev'ry Hue : 
 For itormy Clouds too often intervene, 
 And throw dark Shadows o'er this mor- 
 tal Scene, 
 fSlaft the fair Buds of Hope, or fnatch 
 
 from Sight 
 
 The dear Companions of our focial Way,. 
 AbforbM at once in Dearh's impervious 
 
 Night. 
 
 Loft for a while but when eternal Day 
 Shall gladfome dawn, at once its glorious 
 
 Ray, 
 
 Shows the fair Scene of Happinefs com- 
 plete : 
 
 Then Friends, Companions, Lovers joy- 
 ful meet, 
 Thence never more to part : and fully 
 
 blown 
 
 The Buds of Hope their lafting Bloom 
 difplay. 
 
 Thea
 
 POETRY. i?j 
 
 Then fweet Rtmembranc* wakes without 
 
 Regret 
 And back each human Path they fondly 
 
 trace, 
 That led thro' fteady Wifdom's peace* 
 
 ful Ways, 
 
 Thro' .the (till Vale of dear domcftic Life : 
 
 Or thro' the Toils of Virtue's arduous Strife, 
 
 To this bleft Paradife,this beamy Crown, 
 
 This cloudlds Day, whole Sun (hail 
 
 never fet. 
 
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