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hearts in which it is infixed. I was not con-
demned in my youth to solitude, either by indi-
gence or deformity, nor passed the earlier part
of life without the flattery of courtship, and the
joys of triumph. I have danced the round of gay-
ety amidst the murmurs of envy, and gratulations
of applause; been attended from pleasure to
pleasure by the great, the sprightly, and the vain;
and seen my regard solicited by the obsequious-
ness of gallantry, the gayety of wit, and the timid-
ity of love. If, therefore, I am yet a stranger to
I
nuptial happiness, I suffer only the consequences
of my own resolves, and can look back upon the
succession of lovers, whose addresses I have re-
jected, without grief, and without malice.

SIR, As, notwithstanding all that wit, or malice, or pride, or prudence, will be able to suggest, men and women must at last pass their lives together, I have never therefore thought those writers friends to human happiness, who endeavour to excite in either sex a general contempt or sus picion of the other. To persuade them who are entering the world, and looking abroad for a When my name first began to be inscribed suitable associate, that all are equally vicious, or upon glasses, I was honoured with the amorous equally ridiculous; that they who trust are cer- professions of the gay Venustulus, a gentleman, tainly betrayed, and they who esteem are always who, being the only son of a wealthy family, had disappointed; is not to awaken judgment, but been educated in all the wantonness of expense, to inflame temerity. Without hope there can and softness of effeminacy. He was beautiful in be no caution. Those who are convinced, that in his person, and easy in his address; and, no reason for preference can be found, will never therefore, soon gained upon my eye at an age harass their thoughts with doubt and delibera-when the sight is very little over-ruled by the untion; they will resolve, since they are doomed to misery, that no needless anxiety shall disturb their quiet; they will plunge at hazard into the crowd, and snatch the first hand that shall be held toward them.

derstanding. He had not any power in himself of gladdening or amusing: but supplied his want of conversation by treats and diversions: and his chief art of courtship was to fill the mind of his mistress with parties, rambles, music, and shows. We were often engaged in short excursions to gardens and seats, and I was for a while pleased with the care which Venustulus discov ered in securing me from any appearance of danger, or possibility of mischance. He never failed to recommend caution to his coachman, or to promise the waterman a reward if he landed us

That the world is over-run with vice cannot be denied; but vice, however predominant, has not yet gained an unlimited dominion. Simple and unmingled good is not in our power, but we may generally escape a greater evil by suffering a less; and therefore, those who undertake to initiate the young and ignorant in the knowledge of life, should be careful to inculcate the possi-safe; and always contrived to return by daybility of virtue and happiness, and to encourage endeavours by prospects of success.

light for fear of robbers. This extraordinary solicitude was represented for a time as the effect of his tenderness for me; but fear is too strong for continued hypocrisy. I soon discovered, that Venustulus had the cowardice as well as ele

You, perhaps, do not suspect, that these are the sentiments of one who has been subject for many years to all the hardships of antiquated virginity; has been long accustomed to the cold-gance of a female. His imagination was perness of neglect, and the petulance of insult; has petually clouded with terrors, and he could been mortified in full assemblies by inquiries scarcely refrain from screams and outcries at after forgotten fashions, games long disused, and any accidental surprise. He durst not enter a wits and beauties of ancient renown; has been room if a rat was heard behind the wainscot, nor invited, with malicious importunity, to the second cross a field where the cattle were frisking in the wedding of many acquaintances; has been ridi- sunshine; the least breeze that waved upon the culed by two generations of coquettes in whis- river was a storm, and every clamour in the pers intended to be heard: and been long con- street was a cry of fire. I have seen him lose sidered by the airy and gay, as too venerable for his colour when my squirrel had broke his chain; familiarity, and too wise for pleasure. It is in- and was forced to throw water in his face on the deed natural for injury to provoke anger, and by sudden entrance of a black cat. Compassion continual repetition to produce an habitual as- once obliged me to drive away with my fan a perity; yet I have hitherto struggled with so beetle that kept him in distress, and chide off a much vigilance against my pride and my resent-dog that yelped at his heels, to which he would ment, that I have preserved my temper uncor- gladly have given up me to facilitate his own rupted. I have not yet made it any part of my escape. Women naturally expect defence and employment to collect sentences against mar-protection from a lover or a husband, and thereriage; nor am inclined to lessen the number of the few friends whom time has left me, by obstructing that happiness which I cannot partake, and venting my vexation in censures of the forwardness and indiscretion of girls, or the inconstancy, tastelessness, and perfidy of men.

It is, indeed, not very difficult to bear that condition to which we are not condemned by necessity, but induced by observation and choice; and therefore I, perhaps, have never yet felt all the malignity with which a reproach, edged with the appellation of old maid, swells some of those

fore you will not think me culpable in refusing a wretch, who would have burdened life with unnecessary fears, and flown to me for that succour which it was his duty to have given.

My next lover was Fungosa, the son of a stockjobber, whose visits my friends, by the importunity of persuasion, prevailed upon me to allow. Fungosa was no very suitable companion; for having been bred in a counting-house, he spoke a language unintelligible in any other place. He had no desire of any reputation but that of an acute prognosticator of the changes in the funds;

nor had any means of raising merriment, but by likewise their follies and their vices. I do not telling how somebody was over-reached in a yet believe happiness unattainable in marriage, bargain by his father. He was, however, a though I have never yet been able to find a man, youth of great sobriety and prudence, and fre- with whom I could prudently venture an insepaquently informed us how carefully he would im-rable union. It is necessary to expose faults, prove my fortune. I was not in haste to conclude that their deformity may be seen; but the rethe match, but was so much awed by my pa-proach ought not to be extended beyond the rents, that I durst not dismiss him, and might crime, nor either sex to be condemned because perhaps have been doomed for ever to the gross- some women, or men, are indelicate or dishonest. ness of pedlary, and the jargon of usury, had not a fraud been discovered in the settlement, which set me free from the persecution of grovelling pride, and pecuniary impudence.

I am, &c.
TRANQUILLA.

SATURDAY, MAY 11, 1751.

Reddittum Cyri solio Phraaten,
Dissidens plebi, numero beatorum
Eximit virtus, populumque falsis
Dedocct uti
Vocibus.

True virtue can the crowd unteach
Their false mistaken forms of speech;
Virtue, to crowds a foe profess'd,
Disdains to number with the bless'd
Phraates, by his slaves adored,

I was afterwards six months without any particular notice, but at last became the idol of the No. 120.] glittering Flosculus, who prescribed the mode of embroidery to all the fops of his time, and varied at pleasure the cock of every hat, and the sleeve of every coat that appeared in fashionable assemblies. Flosculus made some impression upon my heart by a compliment which few ladies can hear without emotion; he commended my skill in dress, my judgment in suiting colours, and my art in disposing ornaments. But Flosculus was too much engaged by his own elegance, to be sufficiently attentive to the duties of a lover, or to please with varied praise an ear made delicate by riot of adulation. He expected to be repaid part of his tribute, and stayed away three days, because I neglected to take notice of a new coat. I quickly found, that Flosculus was rather a rival than an admirer; and that we should probably live in a perpetual struggle of emulous finery, and spend our lives in stratagems to be first in the fashion.

And to the Parthian crown restored.

HOR.

FRANCIS.

In the reign of Jenghiz Can, conqueror of the east, in the city of Samarcand, lived Nouradin the merchant, renowned throughout all the regions of India for the extent of his commerce, and the integrity of his dealings. His warehouses were filled with all the commodities of the remotest nations; every rarity of nature, every curiosity of art, whatever was valuable, whatever was useful, hasted to his hand. The streets

covered with his ships; the streams of Oxus were wearied with conveyance, and every breeze of the sky wafted wealth to Nouradin.

I had soon after the honour at a feast of at-were crowded with his carriages; the sea was tracting the eyes of Dentatus, one of those human beings whose only happiness is to dine. Dentatus regaled me with foreign varieties, told me of measures that he had laid for procuring the best cook in France, and entertained me with bills of fare, prescribed the arrangement of dishes, and taught me two sauces invented by himself. At length, such is the uncertainty of human happiness, I delared my opinion too hastily upon a pie made under his own direction; after which he grew so cold and negligent, that he was easily dismissed.

At length Nouradin felt himself seized with a slow małady, which he first endeavoured to divert by application, and afterwards to relieve by luxury and indulgence; but finding his strength every day less, he was at last terrified, and called for help upon the sages of physic: they filled his apartments with alexipharmics, restoratives, and essential virtues; the pearls of the ocean were dissolved, the spices of Arabia were disMany other lovers, or pretended lovers, I have tilled, and all the powers of nature were em had the honour to lead a while in triumph. But ployed to give new spirits to his nerves, and new two of them I drove from me, by discovering that balsam to his blood. Nouradin was for some they had no taste or knowledge in music; three time amused with promises, invigorated with I dismissed, because they were drunkards; two, cordials, or soothed with anodynes; but the disbecause they paid their addresses at the same ease preyed upon his vitals, and he soon discotime to other ladies; and six, because they at-vered with indignation, that health was not to be tempted to influence my choice by bribing my maid. Two more I discarded at the second visit for obscene allusions; and five for drollery on religion. In the latter part of my reign, I sentenced two to perpetual exile, for offering me settlements, by which the children of a former marriage would have been injured; four, for representing falsely the value of their estates; three, for concealing their debts; and one, for raising the rent of a decrepit tenant.

bought. He was confined to his chamber, deserted by his physicians, and rarely visited by his friends; but his unwillingness to die flattered him long with hopes of life.

At length, having passed the night in tedious languor, he called to him Almamoulin, his only son, and, dismissing his attendants, "My son," says he, “behold here the weakness and fragility of man; look backward a few days, thy father was great and happy, fresh as the vernal rose, I have now sent you a narrative, which the and strong as the cedar of the mountain; the ladies may oppose to the tale of Hymenæus. I nations of Asia drank his dews, and art and com mean not to depreciate the sex which has pro- merce delighted in his shade. Malevolence be duced poets and philosophers, heroes and mar- held me, and sighed: His root, she cried, is fixed tyrs; but will not suffer the rising generation of in the depths; it is watered by the fountains of beauties to be dejected by partial satire; or to | Oxus; it sends out branches afar, and bids defi imagine that those who censured them have notance to the blast; prudence reclines against his

did ostentation; thou wast born to be wealthy, but never canst be great.

He then contracted his desires to more private and domestic pleasures. He built palaces, he laid out gardens, he changed the face of the land, he transplanted forests, he levelled mountains, opened prospects into distant regions, poured fountains from the tops of turrets, and rolled

These amusements pleased him for a time; but languor and weariness soon invaded him. His bowers lost their fragrance, and the waters murmured without notice. He purchased large tracts of land in distant provinces, adorned them with houses of pleasure, and diversified them with accommodations for different seasons. Change of place at first relieved his satiety, but all the novelties of situation were soon exhausted; he found his heart vacant, and his desires, for want of external objects, ravaging himself.

trunk, and prosperity dances on his top. Now, Almainoulin, look upon me withering and prostrate; look upon me, and attend. I have trafficked, I have prospered, I have rioted in gain; my house is splendid, my servants are numerous; yet I displayed only a small part of my riches; the rest, which I was hindered from enjoying by the fear of raising envy, or tempting rapacity, I have piled in towers, I have buried in caverns, Irivers through new channels. have hidden in secret repositories, which this scroll will discover. My purpose was, after ten months more spent in commerce, to have withdrawn my wealth to a safer country; to have given seven years to delight and festivity, and the remaining part of my days to solitude and repentance; but the hand of death is upon me; a frigorific torpor encroaches upon my veins; Í am now leaving the produce of my toil, which it must be thy business to enjoy with wisdom." The thought of leaving his wealth filled Nouradin with such grief, that he fell into convulsions, He therefore returned to Samarcand, and set became delirious, and expired. open his doors to those whom idleness sends out Almamoulin, who loved his father, was touch-in search of pleasure. His tables were always ed awhile with honest sorrow, and sat two hours in profound meditation, without perusing the paper which he held in his hand. He then retired to his own chamber, as overborne with affliction, and there read the inventory of his new possessions, which swelled his heart with such transports, that he no longer lamented his father's death. He was now sufficiently composed to order a funeral of modest magnificence, suitable at once to the rank of Nouradin's profession, and the reputation of his wealth. The two next nights he spent in visiting the tower and the caverns, and found the treasures greater to his eye than to his imagination.

covered with delicacies; wines of every vintage sparkled in his bowls, and his lamps scattered perfumes. The sound of the lute, and the voice of the singer, chased away sadness; every hour was crowded with pleasure; and the day ended and began with feasts and dances, and revelry and merriment. Almamoulin cried out, "I have at last found the use of riches; I am surrounded by companions, who view my greatness without envy; and I enjoy at once the raptures of popularity, and the safety of an obscure station. What trouble can he feel, whom all are studious to please, that they may be repaid with pleasure? What danger can he dread, to whom every man is a friend?

Such were the thoughts of Almamoulin, as he looked down from a gallery upon the gay assembly, regaling at his expense; but in the midst of this soliloquy, an officer of justice entered the house, and in the form of legal citation, sum.

Almamoulin had been bred to the practice of exact frugality, and had often looked with envy on the finery and expenses of other young men: he therefore believed that happiness was now in his power, since he could obtain all of which he had hitherto been accustomed to regret the want. He resolved to give a loose to his desires, to re-moned Almamoulin to appear before the em vel in enjoyment, and feel pain or uneasiness no

more.

He immediately procured a splendid equipage, dressed his servants in rich embroidery, and covered his horses with golden caparisons. He showered down silver on the populace, and suffered their acclamations to swell him with insolence. The nobles saw him with anger, the wise men of the state combined against him, the leaders of armies threatened his destruction. Almamoulin was informed of his danger: he put on the robe of mourning in the presence of his enemies, and appeased them with gold, and gems, and supplication.

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peror. The guests stood awhile aghast, then stole imperceptibly away, and he was led off without a single voice to witness his integrity. He now found one of his most frequent visitants accusing him of treason, in hopes of sharing his confiscation; yet, unpatronized and unsupported, he cleared himself by the openness of innocence, and the consistence of truth; he was dismissed with honour, and his accuser perished in prison.

Almamoulin now perceived with how little reason he had hoped for jutisce or fidelity from those who live only to gratify their senses: and, being now weary with vain experiments upon life and fruitless researches after felicity, he had He then sought to strengthen himself, by an recourse to a sage, who after spending his youth alliance with the princes of Tartary, and offered in travel and observation, had reuired from all the price of kingdoms for a wife of noble birth. human cares, to a small habitation on the banks His suit was generally rejected, and his presents of Oxus, where he conversed only with such as refused; but a princess of Astracan once conde- solicited his counsel. "Brother," said the phiscended to admit him to her presence. She re-losopher, "thou hast suffered thy reason to be ceived him sitting on a throne, attired in the robe deluded by idle hopes and fallacious appearances. of royalty, and shining with the jewels of Gol- Having long looked with desire upon riches, conda; command sparkled in her eyes, and dig- thou hadst taught thyself to think them more nity towered on her forehead. Almamoulin ap- valuable than nature designed them, and to exproached and trembled. She saw his confusion pect from them, what experience has now taught and disdained him: How, says she, dares the thee, that they cannot give. That they do not wretch hope my obedience, who thus shrinks at confer wisdom, thou mayest be convinced, by my glance? Retire, and enjoy thy riches in sor. I considering at how dear a price they tempted

thee, upon thy first entrance into the world, to purchase the empty sound of vulgar acclamation. That they cannot bestow fortitude or magnanimity, that man may be certain, who stood trembling at Astracan, before a being not naturally superior to himself. That they will not supply unexhausted pleasure, the recollection of forsaken palaces, and neglected gardens, will easily inform thee. That they rarely purchase friends, thou didst soon discover, when thou wert left to stand thy trial uncountenanced and alone. Yet think not riches useless; there are purposes to which a wise man may be delighted to apply them; they may, by a rational distribution to those who want them, ease the pains of helpless disease, still the throbs of restless anxiety, relieve innocence from oppression, and raise imbecility to cheerfulness and vigour. This they will enable thee to perform, and this will afford the only happiness ordained for our present state, the confidence of Divine favour, and the hope of future rewards."

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honours which are not due but to the author, and endeavours to deceive the world into praise and veneration; for to learn is the proper business of youth; and whether we increase our knowledge by books or by conversation, we are equally indebted to foreign assistance.

The greater part of students are not born with abilities to construct systems, or advance knowledge; nor can have any hope beyond that of becoming intelligent hearers in the schools of art, of being able to comprehend what others discover, and to remember what others teach. Even those to whom Providence hath allotted greater strength of understanding, can expect only to improve a single science. In every other part of learning, they must be content to follow opinions, which they are not able to examine: and, even in that which they claim as peculiarly their own, can seldom add more than some small particle of knowledge to the hereditary stock devolved to them from ancient times, the collective labour of a thousand intellects.

In science, which, being fixed and limited, admits of no other variety than such as arises from new methods of distribution, or new arts of illustration, the necessity of following the traces of our predecessors is indisputably evident; bu there appears no reason why imagination should be subject to the same restraint. It might be conceived, that of those who profess to forsake the narrow paths of truth, every one may deviate towards a different point, since, though rec

I HAVE been informed by a letter from one of the universities, that among the youth from whom the next swarm of reasoners is to learn philoso-titude is uniform and fixed, obliquity, may be inphy, and the next flight of beauties to hear elegies and sonnets, there are many, who, instead of endeavouring by books and meditation to form their own opinions, content themselves with the secondary knowledge, which a convenient bench in a coffee-house can supply: and, without any examination or distinction, adopt the criticisms and remarks which happen to drop from those who have risen, by merit or fortune, to reputation and authority.

These humble retailers of knowledge my correspondent stigmatizes with the name of Echoes; and seems desirous that they should be made ashamed of lazy submission, and animated to attempts after new discoveries, and original sentiments.

It is very natural for young men to be vehement, acrimonious and severe. For as they seldom comprehend at once all the consequences of a position, or perceive the difficulties by which cooler and more experienced reasoners are restrained from confidence, they form their conclusions with great precipitance. Seeing nothing that can darken or embarrass the question, they expect to find their own opinion universally prevalent, and are inclined to impute uncertainty and hesitation to want of honesty, rather than of knowledge. I may perhaps, therefore, be reproached by my lively correspondent, when it shall be found, that I have no inclination to persecute these collectors of fortuitous knowledge with the severity required; yet, as I am now too old to be much pained by hasty censure, I shall not be afraid of taking into protection those whom I think condemned without a sufficient knowledge of their cause.

He that adopts the sentiments of another, whom he has reason to believe wiser than himself, is only to be blamed when he claims the

finitely diversified. The roads of science are narrow, so that they who travel them, must either follow or meet one another; but in the boundless regions of possibility, which fiction claims for her dominion, there are surely a thousand recesses unexplored, a thousand flowers unplucked, a thousand fountains unexhausted, combinations of imagery yet unobserved, and races of ideal inhabitants not hitherto described.

Yet, whatever hope may persuade, or reason evince, experience can boast of very few additions to ancient fable. The wars of Troy, and the travels of Ulysses, have furnished almost all succeeding poets with incidents, characters, and sentiments. The Romans are confessed to have attempted little more than to display in their own tongue the inventions of the Greeks. There is, in all their writings, such a perpetual recurrence of allusions to the tales of the fabulous age, that they must be confessed often to want that power of giving pleasure which novelty supplies; nor can we wonder that they excelled so much in the graces of diction, when we consider how rarely they were employed in search of new thoughts.

The warmest admirers of the great Mantuan poet can extol him for little more than the skill with which he has, by making his hero both a traveller and a warrior, united the beauties of the Iliad and the Odyssey in one composition; yet his judgment was perhaps sometimes overborne by his avarice of the Homeric treasures; and, for fear of suffering a sparkling ornament to be lost, he has inserted it where it cannot shine with its original splendour.

When Ulysses visited the infernal regions, he found among the heroes that perished at Troy, his competitor Ajax, who, when the arms of Achilles were adjudged to Ulysses, died by his

ten no language. His stanza is at once difficult and unpleasing; tiresome to the ear by its uniformity, and to the attention by its length. It was at first formed in imitation of the Italian poets, without due regard to the genius of our language. The Italians have little variety of termination, and were forced to contrive such a stanza as might admit the greatest number of similar rhymes; but our words end with so much diversity, that it is seldom convenient for us to bring more than two of the same sound together. If it be justly observed by Milton, that rhyme obliges poets to express their thoughts in improper terms, these improprieties must always be multiplied, as the difficulty of rhyme is increased by long concatenations.

own hand in the madness of disappointment. | that Jonson boldly pronounces him to have writ He still appeared to resent, as on earth, his loss and disgrace. Ulysses endeavoured to pacify him with praises and submission; but Ajax walked away without reply. This passage has always been considered as eminently beautiful; because Ajax, the haughty chief, the unlettered soldier, of unshaken courage, of immoveable constancy, but without the power of recommending his own virtues by eloquence, or enforcing his assertions by any other argument than the sword, had no way of making his anger known but by gloomy sullenness, and dumb ferocity. His hatred of a man whom he conceived to have defeated him only by volubility of tongue, was therefore naturally shown by silence, more contemptuous and piercing than any words that so rude an orator could have found, and by which he gave his enemy no opportunity of exerting the only power in which he was superior.

When Eneas is sent by Virgil to the shades, he meets Dido the queen of Carthage, whom his perfidy has hurried to the grave; he accosts her with tenderness and excuses; but the lady turns away like Ajax in mute disdain. She turns away like Ajax; but she resembles him in none of those qualities which give either dignity or propriety to silence. She might, without any departure from the tenor of her conduct, have burst out, like other injured women, into clamour, reproach, and denunciation; but Virgil had his imagination full of Ajax, and therefore could not prevail on himself to teach Dido any other mode of resentment.

The imitators of Spenser are indeed not very rigid censors of themselves, for they seem to conclude that, when they have disfigured their lines with a few obsolete syllables, they have accomplished their design, without considering that they ought not only to admit old words, but to avoid new. The laws of imitation are broken by every word introduced since the time of Spenser, as the character of Hector is violated by quoting Aristotle in the play. It would indeed be difficult to exclude from a long poem all modern phrase, though it is easy to sprinkle it with gleamings of antiquity. Perhaps, however, the style of Spenser might by long labour be justly copied; but life is surely given us for higher purposes than to gather what our ancestors have wisely thrown away, and to learn what is of no value, but because it has been forgotten.

No. 122.]

SATURDAY, MAY 18, 1751.
Nescio qua natale solum dulcedine cunctos Duert.

If Virgil could be thus seduced by imitation, there will be little hope that common wits should escape; and accordingly we find that, besides the universal and acknowledged practice of copying the ancients, there has prevailed in every age a particular species of fiction. At one time, all truth was conveyed in allegory; at another, nothing was seen but in a vision; at one period all the poets followed sheep, and every event produced a pastoral; at another, they busied them-NOTHING is more subject to mistake and disapselves wholly in giving directions to a painter.

It is indeed easy to conceive why any fashion should become popular, by which idleness is favoured, and imbecility assisted; but surely no man of genius can much applaud himself for repeating a tale with which the audience is already tired, and which could bring no honour to any but its inventor.

There are, I think, two schemes of writing, on which the laborious wits of the present time employ their faculties. One is the adaptation of sense to all the rhymes which our language can supply to some word that makes the burden of the stanza; but this, as it has been only used in a kind of amorous burlesque, can scarcely be censured with much acrimony. The other is the imitation of Spenser, which, by the influence of some men of learning and genius, seems likely to gain upon the age, and therefore deserves to be more attentively considered.

To imitate the fictions and sentiments of Spenser can incur no reproach, for allegory is perhaps one of the most pleasing vehicles of instruction. But I am very far from extending the same respect to his diction as his stanza. His style was in his own time allowed to be vicious, so darkened with old words and peculiarities of phrase, and so remote from common use,

By secret charms our native land attracts.

OVID.

pointment than anticipated judgment concerning the easiness or difficulty of any undertaking, whether we form our opinion from the performances of others, or from abstracted contemplation of the thing to be attempted.

Whatever is done skilfully appears to be done with ease; and art, when it is once matured to habit, vanishes from observation. We are therefore more powerfully excited to emulation, by those who have attained the highest degree of excellence, and whom we can therefore with least reason hope to equal.

In adjusting the probability of success by a previous consideration of the undertaking, we are equally in danger of deceiving ourselves. It is never easy, nor often possible, to comprise the series of any process with all its circumstances, incidents and variations, in a speculative scheme, Experience soon shows us the tortuosities of imaginary rectitude, the complications of simplicity, and the asperities of smoothness. Sudden difficuities often start up from the ambushes of art, stop the career of activity, repress the gayety of confidence, and, when we imagine ourselves almost at the end of our labours, drive us back to new plans and different measures.

There are many things which we every day see others unable to perform, and perhaps have even

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