oftentimes overpower his refolution. But each comforts himself that his faults are not without precedent, for the best and the wifeft men have given way to the violence of fudden temptations. There are men who always confound the praife of goodness with the practice, and who believe themfelves mild and moderate, charitable and faithful, because they have exerted their eloquence in commendation of mildnefs, fidelity, and other virtues. This is an error almoft univerfal among thofe that converse much with dependents, with fuch whose fear or intereft difpofes them to a feeming reverence for any declamation, however enthufiaftick, and fubmiffion to any boast, however arrogant. Having none to recall their attention to their lives, they rate themselves by the goodness of their opinions, and forget how much more eafily men may fhew their virtue in their talk than in their actions. The tribe is likewife very numerous of those who regulate their lives, not by the standard of religion, but the meafure of other men's virtue; who lull their own rèmorfe with the remembrance of crimes more atrocious than their own, and feem to believe that they are not bad while another can be found worse. For escaping these and a thousand other deceits, many expedients have been propofed. Some have recommended the frequent confultation of a wife friend, admitted to intimacy, and encouraged to fincerity. But this appears a remedy by no means adapted to general ufe: for in order to fecure the virtue of one, it prefuppofes more virtue in two than will generally be found. In the firft, fuch a defire of rectitude and amendment, as may incline him to hear his own accufation from the mouth of him whom he esteems, and by whom, therefore, he will always hope that his faults are not discovered; and in the fecond fuch zeal and honefty, as will make him content for his friend's advantage to lofe his kindness. A long life may be paffed without finding a friend in whose understanding and virtue we can equally confide, and whofe opinion we can value at once for its juftness and fincerity. A weak man, however honest, is not qualified to judge. A man of the world, however penetrating, is not fit to counsel, Friends are often chofen for fimilitude of manners, and therefore each palliates the other's failings, because they are his own. Friends are tender, and unwilling to give pain, or they are interested, and fearful to offend. Thefe objections have inclined others to advife, that he who would know himself, fhould confult his enemies, remember the reproaches that are vented to his face, and liften for the cenfures that are uttered in private. For his great bufinefs is to know his faults, and those malignity will discover, and refentment will reveal. But this precept may be often fruftrated; for it feldom happens that rivals or opponents are fuffered to come near enough to know our conduct with fo much exactnefs as that conscience should allow and reflect the accufation. The charge of an enemy is often totally falfe, and commonly fo mingled with falfehood, that the mind takes advantage from the failure of one part to dif credit. credit the reft, and never fuffers any disturbance afterward from fuch partial reports. Yet it seems that enemies have been always found by experience the most faithful monitors; for adversity has ever been confidered as the ftate in which a man most easily becomes acquainted with himself, and this effect it must produce by withdrawing flatterers, whose business it is to hide our weaknesses from us, or by giving loofe to malice, and licence to reproach; or at least by cutting off those pleafures which called us away from meditation on our own conduct, and repreffing that pride which too eafily perfuades us, that we merit whatever we enjoy. Part of these benefits it is in every man's power to procure to himself, by affigning proper portions of his life to the examination of the reft, and by putting himself frequently in fuch a fituation by retirement and abstraction, as may weaken the influence of external objects. By this practice he may obtain the folitude of adversity without its melancholy, its inftructions without its cenfures, and its fenfibility without its perturbations. The neceffity of fetting the world at a distance from us, when we are to take a furvey of ourselves, has fent many from high ftations to the feverities of a monaftick life; and indeed, every man deeply engaged in bufinefs, if all regard to another ftate be not extinguifhed, muft have the conviction, though, perhaps, not the resolution of Valdeffo, who, when he folicited Charles the fifth to difmifs him, being afked, whether he retired upon difguft, anfwered that he laid down his commiffion, for no other rea fon fon but because there ought to be fome time for fober reflection between the life of a foldier and his death. There are few conditions which do not entangle us with fublunary hopes and fears, from which it is neceffary to be at intervals difencumbered, that we may place ourselves in his prefence who views effects in their causes, and actions in their motives; that we may, as Chillingworth expreffes it, confider things as if there were no other beings in the world but God and ourselves; or, to use language yet more awful, may commune with our own hearts, and be ftill. Death, fays Seneca, falls heavy upon him who is too much known to others, and too little to himself; and Pontanus, a man celebrated among the early reftorers of literature, thought the ftudy of our own hearts of fo much importance, that he has recommended it from his tomb. Sum Joannes Jovianus Pontanus, quem amaverunt bonæ mufæ, fufpexerunt viri probi, honeftaverunt reges domini; jam scis qui fim, vel qui potius fuerim; ego vero te, hofpes, nofcere in tenebris nequeo, fed teipfum ut nofcas rogo. "I am Pon"tanus, beloved by the powers of literature, admired by men of worth, and dignified by the monarchs "of the world. Thou knoweft now who I am, " or more properly who I was. For thee, ftranger, "I who am in darkness cannot know thee, but I "intreat thee to know thyfelf.” cr I hope every reader of this paper will confider himself as engaged to the obfervation of a precept, which the wisdom and virtue of all ages have concurred to enforce, a precept dictated by philofophers, inculcated by poets, and ratified by faints. NUMB. 29. TUESDAY, June 26, 1750. Prudens futuri temporis exitum Caliginofa nocte premit deus, Fas trepidet But God has wifely hid from human fight The dark decrees of future fate, And fown their feeds in depth of night; He laughs at all the giddy turns of state, HOR. When mortals fearch too foon, and fear too late. DRYDEN. THER is HERE is nothing recommended with greater frequency among the gayer poets of antiquity, than the fecure poffeffion of the present hour, and the difmiffion of all the cares which intrude upon our quiet, or hinder, by importunate perturbations, the enjoyment of thofe delights which our condition happens to fet before us. The ancient poets are, indeed, by no means unexceptionable teachers of morality; their precepts are to be always confiderd as the fallies of a genius, intent rather upon giving pleasure than inftruction, eager to take every advantage of infinuation, and provided the paffions can be engaged on its fide, very little folicitous about the fuffrage of reason. The darkness and uncertainty through which the heathens were compelled to wander in the purfuit of happiness, may, indeed, be alledged as an excufe for many of their feducing invitations to immediate enjoyment, which the moderns, by whom they have been imitated, have not to plead. It is no wonder that |