will be apt to estimate their virtues by their vices. I have long known a person of this temper, To this fatal error all those will contribute, who who indulged his dream of happiness with less confound the colours of right and wrong, and, in-hurt to himself than such chimerical wishes comstead of helping to settle their boundaries, mix them with so much art, that no common mind is able to disunite them.

monly produce, and adjusted his scheme with such address, that his hopes were in full bloom three parts of the year, and in the other part never wholly blasted. Many, perhaps, would be desirous of learning by what means he procured to himself such a cheap and lasting satisfaction. It was gained by a constant practice of referring the removal of all his uneasiness to the coming of the next spring; if his health was impaired, the spring would restore it; if what he wanted was at a high price, it would fall its value in the spring.

The spring indeed did often come without any of these effects, but he was always certain that the next would be more propitious; nor was ever convinced, that the present spring would fail him before the middle of summer; for he always talked of the spring as coming till it was past, and when it was once past, every one agreed with

In narratives where historical veracity has no place, I cannot discover, why there should not be exhibited the most perfect idea of virtue; of virtue not angelical, nor above probability, for what we cannot credit, we shall never imitate, but the highest and purest that humanity can reach, which, exercised in such trials as the various revolutions of things shall bring upon it, may, by conquering some calamities, and enduring others, teach us what we may hope, and what we can perform. Vice, for vice is necessary to be shown, should always disgust; nor should the graces of gayety, or the dignity of courage, be so united with it, as to reconcile it to the mind. Wherever it appears, it should raise hatred by the malignity of its practices, and contempt by the meanness of its stratagems: for while it is sup-him that it was coming. ported by either parts or spirit, it will be seldom heartily abhorred. The Roman tyrant was content to be hated, if he was but feared; and there are thousands of the readers of Romances willing to be thought wicked, if they may be allowed to be wits. It is therefore to be steadily inculcated, that virtue is the highest proof of understanding, and the only solid basis of greatness; and that vice is the natural consequence of narrow thoughts; that it begins in mistake, and ends in ignominy.*

Every man is sufficiently discontented with some circumstances of his present state, to suffer his imagination to range more or less in quest of future happiness, and to fix upon some point of time, in which, by the removal of the inconvenience which now perplexes him, or acquisition of the advantage which he at present wants, he shall find the condition of his life very much improved.

When this time, which is too often expected with great impatience, at last arrives, it generally comes without the blessing for which it was desired; but we solace ourselves with some new prospect, and press forward again with equal eagerness.

It is lucky for a man, in whom this temper prevails, when he turns his hopes upon things wholly out of his own power; since he forbears then to precipitate his affairs, for the sake of the great event that is to complete his felicity, and waits for the blissful hour with less neglect of the measures necessary to be taken in the mean time.

By long converse with this man, I am, perhaps, brought to feel immoderate pleasure in the contemplation of this delightful season; but I have the satisfaction of finding many, whom it can be no shame to resemble, infected with the same enthusiasm; for there is, I believe, scarce any poet of eminence, who has not left some testimony of his fondness for the flowers, the zephyrs, and the warblers of the spring. Nor has the most luxuriant imagination been able to describe the serenity and happiness of the golden age, otherwise than by giving a perpetual spring, as the highest reward of uncorrupted innocence.

There is, indeed, something inexpressibly pleasing in the annual renovation of the world, and the new display of the treasures of nature. The cold and darkness of winter, with the naked deformity of every object on which we turn our eyes, make us rejoice at the succeeding season, as well for what we have escaped, as for what we may enjoy; and every budding flower, which a warm situation brings early to our view, is considered by us as a messenger to notify the approach of more joyous days.

The Spring affords to a mind, so free from the disturbance of cares or passions as to be vacant to calm amusements, almost every thing that our present state makes us capable of enjoying. The variegated verdure of the fields and woods, the succession of grateful odours, the voice of pleasure pouring out its notes on every side, with the gladness apparently conceived by every animal, from the growth of his food, and the clemency of the weather, throw over the whole earth an air of gayety, significantly expressed by the smile of

nature.

Yet there are men to whom these scenes are able to give no delight, and who hurry away from all the varieties of rural beauty, to lose their hours and divert their thoughts by cards or assemblies, a tavern dinner, or the prattle of the day.

It may be laid down as a position which will seldom deceive, that when a man cannot bear his own company, there is something wrong. He must fly from himself either because he feels a tediousness in life from the equipoise of an empty mind, which, having no tendency to one motion more than another, but as it is impelled

by some external power, must always have recourse to foreign objects; or he must be afraid of the intrusion of some unpleasing ideas, and perhaps is struggling to escape from the remembrance of a loss, the fear of a calamity, or some other thought of greater horror.

Those whom sorrow incapacitates to enjoy the pleasures of contemplation, may properly apply to such diversions, provided they are innocent, as lay strong hold on the attention; and those, whom fear of any future affliction chains down to misery, must endeavour to obviate the dan

A French author has advanced this seeming paradox, that very few men know how to take a walk; and, indeed, it is true, that few know how to take a walk with a prospect of any other pleasure, than the same company would have afforded them at home.

of nature, demonstrably multiplies the inlets to happiness; and, therefore, the younger part of my readers, to whom I dedicate this vernal speculation, must excuse me for calling upon them, to make use at once of the spring of the year, and the spring of life; to acquire, while their minds may be yet impressed with new images, a love of innocent pleasures, and an ardour for useful knowledge; and to remember, that a blight ed spring makes a barren year, and that the vernal flowers, however beautiful and gay, are only intended by nature as preparatives to au tumnal fruits.

There are animals that borrow their colour depend upon external circumstances, is one of THAT man should never suffer his happiness te from the neighbouring body, and consequently the chief precepts of the stoical philosophy; a vary their hue as they happen to change their precept, indeed, which that lofty sect has explace. In like manner, it ought to be the en-tended beyond the condition of human life, and deavour of every man to derive his reflections in which some of them seem to have comprised from the objects about him; for it is to no pur- an utter exclusion of all corporeal pain and pose that he alters his position, if his attention pleasure from the regard or attention of a wise continues fixed to the same point. The mind should be kept open to the access of every new idea, and so far disengaged from the predominance of particular thoughts, as casily to ac

commodate itself to occasional entertainment.

A man that has formed this habit of turning every new object to his entertainment, finds in the productions of nature an inexhaustible stock of materials upon which he can employ himself without any temptations to envy or malevolence; faults, perhaps, seldom totally avoided by those, whose judgment is much exercised upon the works of art. He has always a certain prospect of discovering new reasons for adoring the sovereign Author of the universe, and probable hopes of making some discovery of benefit to others, or of profit to himself. There is no doubt but many vegetables and animals have qualities that might be of great use, to the knowledge of which there is not required much force of penetration, or fatigue of study, but only frequent experiments, and close attention. What is said by the chymists of their darling mercury, is, perhaps, true of every body through the whole creation, that if a thousand lives should be spent upon it, all its properties would not be found out.

Mankind must necessarily be diversified by various tastes, since life affords and requires such multiplicity of employments, and a nation of naturalists is neither to be hoped or desired; but it is surely not improper to point out a fresh amusement to those who languish in health, and repine in plenty, for want of some source of diversion that may be less easily exhausted, and to inform the multitudes of both sexes, who are burdened with every new day, that there are many shows which they have not seen.

He that enlarges his curiosity after the works

man.

Such sapientia insaniens, as Horace calls the doctrine of another sect, such extravagance of philosophy can want neither authority nor ar

gument for its confutation: it is overthrown by
the experience of every hour, and the powers of
nature rise up against it. But we may very pro-
perly inquire, how near to this exalted state it is
in our power to approach? how far we can ex-
empt ourselves from outward influences, and se-
cure to our minds a state of tranquillity? for
though the boast of absolute independence is ri
diculous and vain, yet a mean flexibility to every
impulse, and a patient submission to the tyranny
of casual troubles, is below the dignity of that
mind, which however depraved or weakened,
boasts its derivation from a celestial original, and
hopes for a union with infinite goodness, and un
variable felicity.

Ni vitiis pejora fovens
Proprium deserat ortum.
Unless the soul, to vice a thrall,
Desert her own original.

The necessity of erecting ourselves to some degree of intellectual dignity, and of perceiving resources of pleasure, which may not be wholly at the mercy of accident, is never more apparent than when we turn our eyes upon those whom fortune has let loose to their own conduct; who, not being chained down by their condition to a regular and stated allotment of their hours, are obliged to find themselves business or diversion and having nothing within that can entertain or employ them, are compelled to try all the arts of destroying time.

The numberless expedients practised by this class of mortals to alleviate the burden of life, Tule, the wave stante proud

and leave behind him all his cares, incumbrances, and calamities.

are not less shameful, nor, perhaps, much less
pitiable, than those to which a trader on the edge
of a bankruptcy is reduced. I have seen me-
If he travelled so far with no other purpose
lancholy overspread a whole family at the disap- than to bury himself in some obscure retreat, he
pointment of a party for cards; and when, after might have found, in his own country, innu-
the proposal of a thousand schemes, and the de-merable coverts sufficiently dark to have con-
spatch of the footman upon a hundred messages, cealed the genius of Cowley; for whatever
they have submitted, with gloomy resignation, to might be his opinion of the importunity with
the misfortune of passing one evening in con- which he might be summoned back into public
versation with each other; on a sudden, such are life, a short experience would have convinced
the revolutions of the world, an unexpected visit- him, that privation is easier than acquisition,
or has brought them relief, acceptable as pro-and that it would require little continuance to
vision to a starving city, and enabled them to
hold out till the next day.

free himself from the intrusion of the world.
There is pride enough in the human heart to
The general remedy of those who are uneasy prevent much desire of acquaintance with a
without knowing the cause, is change of place; man, by whom we are sure to be neglected,
they are willing to imagine that their pain is the however his reputation for science or virtue
consequence of some local inconvenience, and may excite our curiosity or esteem; so that the
endeavour to fly from it, as children from their lover of retirement needs not be afraid lest the
shadows; always hoping for some more satis-respect of strangers should overwhelm him with
factory delight from every new scene, and al-
ways returning home with disappointment and
complaints.

Who can look upon this kind of infatuation, without reflecting on those that suffer under the dreadful symptoms of canine madness, termed by physicians the dread of water? These miserable wretches, unable to drink, though burning with thirst, are sometimes known to try various contortions, or inclinations of the body, flattering themselves that they can swallow in one posture that liquor which they find in another to repel their lips.

visits. Even those to whom he has formerly been known, will very patiently support his absence, when they have tried a little to live with out him, and found new diversions for those moments which his company contributed to ex hilarate.

It was, perhaps, ordained by Providence, to hinder us from tyrannising over one another, that no individual should be of such importance, as to cause, by his retirement or death, any chasm in the world. And Cowley had conversed to little purpose with mankind, if he had never remarked, how soon the useful friend, the Yet such folly is not peculiar to the thought-gay companion, and the favoured lover, when less or ignorant, but sometimes seizes those minds which seem most exempted from it, by the variety of attainments, quickness of penetration, or severity of judgment; and, indeed, the pride of wit and knowledge is often mortified by finding that they confer no security against the common errors, which mislead the weakest and meanest of mankind.

once they are removed from before the sight, give way to the succession of new objects.

The privacy, therefore, of his hermitage might have been safe enough from violation, though he had chosen it within the limits of his native island; he might have found here preservatives against the vanities and vexations of the world, not less efficacious than those which the woods These reflections arose in my mind upon the or fields of America could afford him: but hav remembrance of a passage in Cowley's preface ing once his mind embittered with disgust, he to his poems, where, however exalted by genius, conceived it impossible to be far enough from and enlarged by study, he informs us of a the cause of his uneasiness; and was posting scheme of happiness to which the imagina-away with the expedition of a coward, who, for tion of a girl, upon the loss of her first lover, want of venturing to look behind him, thinks the could have scarcely given way; but which he enemy perpetually at his heels. seems to have indulged, till he had totally forgotten its absurdity, and would probably have put in execution, had he been hindered only by his reason.

When he was interrupted by company, or fatigued with business, he so strongly imaged to himself the happiness of leisure and retreat, that he determined to enjoy them for the future with"My desire," says he, "has been for some out interruption, and to exclude for ever all that years past, though the execution has been acci- could deprive him of his darling satisfaction. dentally diverted, and does still vehemently con- He forgot, in the vehemence of desire, that sotinue, to retire myself to some of our American litude and quiet owe their pleasures to those plantations, not to seek for gold, or enrich my-miseries which he was so studious to obviate: self with the traffic of those parts, which is the end of most men that travel thither; but to forsake this world for ever, with all the vanities and vexations of it, and to bury myself there in some obscure retreat, but not without the consolation of letters and philosophy."

Such was the chimerical provision which Cowley had made in his own mind, for the quiet of his remaining life, and which he seems to recommend to posterity, since there is no other reason for disclosing it. Surely no stronger instance can be given of a persuasion that content was the inhabitant of particular regions, and that a man might set sail with a fair wind,

for such are the vicissitudes of the world, through all its parts, that day and night, labour and rest, hurry and retirement, endear each other; such are the changes that keep the mind in action; we desire, we pursue, we obtain, we are sa tiated: we desire something else, and begin a new pursuit.

If he had proceeded in his project, and fixed his habitation in the most delightful part of the new world, it may be doubted, whether his distance from the vanities of life would have enabled him to keep away the vexations. It is common for a man, who feels pain, to fancy that he could bear it better in any other part. Cowley having

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or control, are yet condemned to pay so large a tribute of their time to custom, ceremony, and popularity, that, according to the Greek proverb, no man in the house is more a slave than the master.

known the troubles and perplexities of a particular condition, readily persuaded himself that nothing worse was to be found, and that every alteration would bring some improvement: he never suspected that the cause of his unhappi"ness was within, that his own passions were not When a king asked Euclid, the mathematiSufficiently regulated, and that he was harassed cian, whether he could not explain his art to him by his own impatience, which could never be in a more compendious manner? he was anwithout something to awaken it, would accom-swered, That there was no royal way to geomepany him over the sea, and find its way to his American elysium. He would, upon the trial, have been soon convinced, that the fountain of content must spring up in the mind; and that he who has so little knowledge of human nature, as to seek happiness by changing any thing but his own dispositions, will waste his life in fruitless efforts, and multiply the griefs which he purposes to remove.*

O thou whose power o'er moving worlds presides,
Whose voice created, and whose wisdom guides,
On darkling man in pure effulgence shine,
And cheer the clouded mind with light divine.
"Tis thine alone to calm the pious breast
With silent confidence and holy rest:
From thee, great God, we spring, to thee we tend,
Path, motive, guide, original, and end.

THE love of retirement has, in all ages, adhered
closely to those minds, which have been most
enlarged by knowledge, or elevated by genius.
Those who enjoyed every thing generally sup-
posed to confer happiness, have been forced to
seek it in the shades of privacy. Though they
possessed both power and riches, and were,
therefore surrounded by men who considered it
as their chief interest to remove from them every
thing that might offend their ease, or interrupt
their pleasure, they have soon felt the languors
of satiety, and found themselves unable to pur-
sue the race of life without frequent respirations
of intermediate solitude.

To produce this disposition, nothing appears requisite but quick sensibility and active imagination; for, though not devoted to virtue, or science, the man whose faculties enable him to make ready comparisons of the present with the past, will find such a constant recurrence of the same pleasures and troubles, the same expectations and disappointments, that he will gladly snatch an hour of retreat, to let his thoughts expatiate at large, and seek for that variety in his own ideas, which the objects of

sense cannot afford him.

Nor will greatness, or abundance, exempt him from the importunities of this desire, since, if he is born to think, he cannot restrain himself from a thousand inquiries and speculations, which he must pursue by his own reason, and which the splendour of his condition can only hinder: for those who are most exalted above dependence

try. Other things may be seized by might, or purchased with money, but knowledge is to be gained only by study, and study to be prosecuted only in retirement.

These are some of the motives which have had power to sequester kings and heroes from the crowds that soothed them with flatteries, or inspirited them with acclamations; but their efficacy seems confined to the higher mind, and to operate little upon the common classes of mankind, to whose conceptions the present assemblage of things is adequate, and who seldom range beyond those entertainments and vexations, which solicit their attention by pressing on their senses.

But there is a universal reason for some stated intervals of solitude, which the institutions of the church call upon me now especially to mention; a reason which extends as wide as moral duty, or the hopes of Divine favour in a future state; and which ought to influence all ranks of life, and all degrees of intellect; since none can imagine themselves not comprehended in its obligation, but such as determine to set their Maker at defiance by obstinate wickedness, or whose enthusiastic security dinances, and all human means of improvement. of his approbation places them above external or

by the precepts of religion, is to make the future The great task of him who conducts his life predominate over the present, to impress upon his mind so strong a sense of the importance of obedience to the Divine will, of the value of the reward promised to virtue, and the terrors of the punishment denounced against crimes, as may overbear all the temptations which temporal hope or fear can bring in his way, and enable him to bid equal defiance to joy and sorrow, to turn away at one time from the allurements of ambition, and push forward at another against the threats of calamity.

It is not without reason that the apostle represents our passage through this stage of our existence by images drawn from the alarms and solicitude of a military life; for we are placed in such a state, that almost every thing about us conspires against our chief interest. We are in danger from whatever can get possession of our pleasure, has a tendency to obstruct the way thoughts; all that can excite in us either pain or that leads to happiness, and either to turn us aside, or retard our progress.

are our lawful and faithful guides, in most things Our senses, our appetites, and our passions, that relate solely to this life; and, therefore, by the hourly necessity of consulting them, we gradually sink into an implicit submission, and habitual confidence. Every act of compliance with their motions facilitates a second compliance every new step towards depravity is made with less reluctance than the former, and thus the descent to life merely sensual is perpetually accelerated.

noise and pleasure, inevitably obliterates the impressions of piety, and a frequent abstraction of ourselves into a state, where this life, like the next, operates only upon the reason, will reinstate religion in its just authority, even without those irradiations from above, the hope of which I have no intention to withdraw from the sincere and the diligent.

The senses have not only that advantage over | litary meditation. A constant residence amidst conscience, which things necessary must always have over things chosen, but they have likewise a kind of prescription in their favour. We feared pain much earlier than we apprehended guilt, and were delighted with the sensations of pleasure, before we had capacities to be charmed with the beauty of rectitude. To this power, thus early established, and incessantly increasing, it must be remembered that almost every man has, in some part of his life, added new strength by a voluntary or negligent subjection of himself; for who is there that has not instigated his appetites by indulgence, or suffered them, by an unresisting neutrality, to enlarge their dominion, and multiply their demands?

This is that conquest of the world and of ourselves, which has been always considered as the perfection of human nature; and this is only to be obtained by fervent prayer, steady resolutions, and frequent retirement from folly and vanity, from the cares of avarice and the joys of intemperance, from the lulling sounds of deceitful flattery, and the tempting sight of prosperous wickedness.

From the necessity of dispossessing the sensitive faculties of the influence which they must naturally gain by this pre-occupation of the soul, arises that conflict between opposite desires in the first endeavours after a religious life; which, No. 8.] SATURDAY, APRIL 14, 1750. however enthusiastically it may have been described, or however contemptuously ridiculed, will naturally be felt in some degree, though varied without end, by different tempers of mind, and innumerable circumstances of health or condition, greater or less fervour, more or fewer temptations to relapse.

Patitur panas peccandi sola voluntas;
Nam scelus intra se tacitum qui cogitat ullum,
Facti crimen habet.

For he that but conceives a crime in thought,
Contracts the danger of an actual fault.

JUV.

CREECH.

From the perpetual necessity of consulting the animal faculties, in our provision for the present Ir the most active and industrious of mankind life, arises the difficulty of withstanding their impulses, even in cases where they ought to be of was able, at the close of life, to recollect distinctly no weight; for the motions of sense are instanta-lar account according to the manner in which his past moments, and distribute them in a reguneous, its objects strike unsought, we are accustomed to follow its directions, and therefore often submit to the sentence without examining the authority of the judge.

they have been spent, it is scarcely to be imagined how few would be marked out to the mind, by any permanent or visible effects, how small a Thus it appears, upon a philosophical estimate, proportion his real action would bear to his seem that, supposing the mind, at any certain time, ing possibilities of action, how many chasms he would find of wide and continued vacuity, an equipoise between the pleasures of this life, and how many interstitial spaces unfilled, even and the hopes of futurity, present objects falling in the most tumultuous hurries of business, and more frequently into the scale, would in time pre- the most eager vehemence of pursuit. ponderate, and that our regard for an invisible state would grow every moment weaker, till at last it would lose all its activity, and become absolutely without effect.

To prevent this dreadful event, the balance is put into our own hands, and we have power to transfer the weight to either side. The motives to a life of holiness are infinite, not less than the favour or anger of Omnipotence, not less than the eternity of happiness or misery. But these can only influence our conduct as they gain our attention, which the business or diversions of the world are always calling off by contrary attractions.

It is said by modern philosophers, that not only the great globes of matter are thinly scattered through the universe, but the hardest bodies are so porous, that, if all matter were compressed to perfect solidity, it might be contained in a cube of a few feet. In like manner, if all the employment of life were crowded into the time which it really occupied, perhaps a few weeks, days, or hours, would be sufficient for its accomplishment, so far as the mind was engaged in the performance. For such is the inequality of our corporeal to our intellectual faculties, that we contrive in minutes what we execute in years, and the soul often stands an idle spectator of the labour of the hands, and expedition of the feet.

The great art therefore of piety, and the end for which all the rites of religion seem to be instituted, is the perpetual renovation of the motives to virtue, by a voluntary employment of our mind found themselves at leisure to pursue the study For this reason the ancient generals often in the contemplation of its excellence, its import- of philosophy in the camp; and Lucan, with ance, and its necessity, which, in proportion as historical veracity, makes Cæsar relate of himthey are more frequently and more willingly re-self that he noted the revolutions of the stars in volved, gain a more forcible and permanent inthe midst of preparations for battle. fluence, till in time they become the reigning ideas, the standing principles of action, and the test by which every thing proposed to the judgment is rejected or approved.

To facilitate this change of our affections, it is necessary that we weaken the temptations of the world, by retiring at certain seasons from it; for its influence arising only from its presence, is much lessened when it becomes the object of so

Media inter prælia semper
Sideribus cælique plagis, superisque vacavi.
Amid the storms of war, with curious eyes
I trace the planets, and survey the skies.

That the soul always exerts her peculiar powers, with greater or less force, is very probable, though the common occasions of our present con