princes; while we are told of scarce any share of prowess in the meaner men of the army; who are only brought into the field for these to protect, or to slaughter. But nothing can be more unlikely than that those men, who were bred in the luxury of courts, should be strong; while the whole body of the people, who received a plainer and simple education, should be comparatively weak. Nothing can be more contrary to the general laws of Nature, than that all the sons of heroes should thus inherit not only the kingdoms, but the strength of their forefathers and we may conclude, that they owe the greatest share of their imputed strength rather to the dignity of their stations than the force of their arms; and, like all fortunate princes, their flatterers happened to be believed. In later ages, indeed, we have some accounts of amazing strength, which we can have no reason to doubt of. But in these, Nature is found to pursue her ordinary course; and we find their strength accidental. We find these strong men among the lowest of the people, and gradually rising into notice, as this superiority had more opportunity of being seen. Of this number was the Roman tribune, who went by the name of the second Achilles: who, with his own. hand, is said to have killed, at different times, three hundred of the enemy; and when treacherously set upon, by twenty-five of his own countrymen, although then past his sixtieth year, killed fourteen of them before he was slain. Of this number was Milo, who, when he stood upright, could not be forced out of his place. Pliny, also, tells us of one Athanatus, who walked across the stage at Rome, loaded with a breast-plate, weighing five-hundred pounds, and buskins of the same weight. But of all the prodigies of strength, of whom we have any accounts in Roman history, Maximin, the emperor, is to be reckoned the foremost. Whatever we are told relative to him is well attested; his character was too exalted not to be thoroughly known; and that very strength, for which he was celebrated, at last procured him no less a reward than the empire of the world. Maximin was above nine feet in height, and the best proportioned man in the whole empire. He was by birth a Thracian; and, from being a simple herdsman, rose through the gradations of office, until he came to be Emperor of Rome. The first opportunity he

had of exerting his strength, was in the presence of all the citizens, in the theatre, where he overthrew twelve of the strongest men, in wrestling, and outstript two of the fleetest horses, in running, all in one day. He could draw a chariot loaden, that two strong horses could not move; he could break a horse's jaw with a blow of his fist; and its thigh with a kick. In war he was always foremost and invincible: happy had it been for him and his subjects, if, from being formidable to his enemies, he had not become still more so to his subjects; he reigned, for some time, with all the world his enemy; all mankind wishing him dead, yet none daring to strike the blow. As if fortune had resolved that through life he should continue unconquerable, he was killed at last by his own soldiers, while he was sleeping. We have many other instances, in later ages, of very great strength, and not fewer of amazing swiftness; but these, merely corporeal perfections, are now considered as of small advantage, either in war or in peace. The invention of gunpowder has, in some measure, levelled all force to one standard; and has wrought a total change in martial education through all parts of the world. In peace also, the invention of new machines every day, and the application of the strength of the lower animals to the purposes of life, have rendered human strength less valuable. The boast of corporeal force is therefore consigned to savage nations, where those arts not being introduced, it may still be needful; but, in more polite countries, few will be proud of that strength which other animals can be taught to exert to as useful purposes as they.

"If we compare the largeness and thickness of our muscles with those of any other animal, we shall find that, in this respect, we have the advantage; and if strength, or swiftness depended upon the quantity of muscular flesh alone, I believe that, in this respect, we should be more active and powerful than any other. But this is not the case; a great deal more than the size of the muscles goes to constitute activity, or force; and it is not he who has the thickest legs that can make the best use of them. Those, therefore, who have written elaborate treatises on muscular force, and have estimated the strength of animals

by the thickness of their muscles, have been employed to very little purpose. It is in general observed, that thin and raw-boned men are always stronger and more powerful, than such as are seemingly more muscular; as in the former all the parts have better room for their exertions."

Women want much of the strength of men; and, in some countries, the stronger sex have availed themselves of this superiority, in cruelly and tyrannically enslaving those who were made with equal pretensions to a share in all the advantages life can bestow. Savage nations oblige their women to a life of continual labour; upon them rest all the drudgeries of domestic duty; while the husband, indolently reclined in his hammock, is first served from the fruits of her industry. From this negligent situation, he is seldom roused, except by the calls of appetite, when it is necessary, either by fishing or hunting, to make a va riety in his entertainments. A savage has no idea of taking pleasure in exercise; he is surprised to see an European walk forward for his amusement, and then return back again. As for his part he could be contented to remain for ever in the same situation, perfectly satisfied with sensual pleasures and undisturbed repose. The women of these countries are the greatest slaves upon earth; sensible of their weakness, and unable to resist, they are obliged to suffer those hardships which are naturally inflicted by such as have been taught that nothing but corporeal force ought to give pre-eminence. It is not, therefore, till after some degree of refinement, that women are treated with lenity; and not till the highest degree of politeness, that they are permitted to share in all the privileges of man. The first impulse of savage nature is to confirm their slavery; the next of half barbarous nations, is to appropriate their beauty; and that, of the perfectly polite, to engage their affections. In civilized countries, therefore, women have united the force of modesty to the power of their natural charins; and thus obtain that superiority over the mind, which they are unable to extort by their strength,

CHAP. VI.

OF SLEEP AND HUNGER.

AS man, in all the privileges he enjoys, and the powers he is invested with, has a superiority over all other animals, so, in his necessities, he seems inferior to the meanest of them all. Nature has brought him into life with a greater variety of wants and infirmities, than the rest of her creatures, unarmed in the midst of enemies. The lion has na tural arms; the bear natural clothing; but man is destitute of all such advantages; and, from the superiority of his mind alone, he is to supply the deficiency. The number of his wants, however, were merely given, in order to multiply the number of his enjoyments; since the possibility of being deprived of any good, teaches him the value of its possession. Were men born with those advantages which he learns to possess by industry, he would very probably enjoy them with a blunter relish: it is by being naked, that he knows the value of a covering; it is by being exposed to the weather, that he learns the comfor's of a habitation. Every want thus becomes a means of pleasure, in the redressing; and the animal that has most. desires, may be said to be capable of the greatest variety of happiness.

Besides the thousand imaginary wants peculiar to man, there are two, which he has in common with all other animals; and which he feels in a more necessary manner than they. These are the wants of sleep and hunger. Every animal that we are acquainted with, seems to endure the want of these with much less injury to health, than man; and some are most surprisingly patient in sustaining both. The little domestic animals that we keep about us, may often set a lesson of calm resignation,.in supporting want and watchfulness, to the boasted philosopher. They receive their pittance at uncertain intervals, and wait its Volume I.

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coming with cheerful expectation. We have instances of the dog and the cat living in this manner, without food, for several days; and yet still preserving their attachment to the tyrant that oppresses them; still ready to exert their little services for his amusement or defence. But the patience of these is nothing, to what the animals of the forest endure. As these mostly live upon accidental carnage, so they are often known to remain without food for several weeks together. Nature, kindly solicitous for their support, has also contracted their stomachs, to suit them for their precarious way of living; and kindly, while it abridges the banquet, lessens the necessity of providing for it. But the meaner tribes of animals are made still more capable of sustaining life without food, many of them remaining in a state of torpid indifference till their prey approaches, when they jump upon and seize it. In this manner, the snake, or the spider, continue, for several months together, to subsist upon a single meal; and some of the butterfly kinds live upon little or nothing. But it is very different with man: his wants daily make their importunate demands; and it is known, that he cannot continue to live many days without eating, drinking, and sleeping.

Hunger is a much more powerful enemy to man than watchfulness, and kills him much sooner. It may be considered as a disorder that food removes; and that would quickly be fatal, without its proper antidote. In fact, it is so terrible to man, that to avoid it he even encounters certain death; and, rather than endure its tortures, exchanges them for immediate destruction. However, by what I have been told, it is much more dreadful in its approaches, than in its continuance; and the pains of a famishing wretch decrease, as his strength diminishes. In the beginning, the desire of food is dreadful indeed, as we know by experience; for there are few who have not, in some degree, felt its approaches. But, after the first or second day, its tortures become less terrible, and a total insensibility at length comes kindly in to the poor wretch's assistance. I have talked with the captain of a ship, who was one of six that endured it in its extremities; and who was the only person that had not lost his senses, when they received accidental relief. He assured me, his pains