Again, is it upon real worth that the caresses of the world are bestowed? No, they are given to riches, of which accident may deprive us, and upon which, if but a grain of self-esteem remain in our breast, we scorn to value ourselves: to birth, which cannot, by itself, ennoble a man, even between the cradle and the grave," where all distinctions cease; to beauty, of which a short time must infallibly bereave us; to the convivial spirit, which must cease to shine as soon as the sun of prosperity hides his face. They are given to those who have the means of contributing to swell the stream of worldly pleasure, or feed the never-ending appetite for variety; and the man who has devoted his life to the obtaining of them, must either close it in a dream of vanity, or live to experience the keen and incurable pangs of self-contempt.

But, although we may be convinced that those who speculate in worldly pleasure, worldly greatness, and worldly applause, have placed their means of happiness at bad interest; we need not infer from thence, that in order to continue reasonable and virtuous, we must abjure the world, with all its pursuits and pleasures. We may be spectators of its pageant, without filling a promi

nent situation in the show; we need not be slaves, or worshippers, but we must be members of the world; and, without taking its caprices for our guide in important concerns, may allow its habits to decide for us in frivolous matters, which are not worthy to be disputed by a rational being, and which may safely be referred to the triflers, who constitute the majority of what is called The World. Nay more, while we refuse implicit compliance with the ways of the world, we must be careful not to deserve its censures, by offending against those customs adopted from necessity, and confirmed by experience, which, though they sometimes appear trifling and irksome, we may readily perceive to be essential to the regular conduct of affairs, and to the good order of society.

It would detain us too long on this theme were we to enter upon a consideration of the several ways in which the name of the World is coupled with that of its inhabitants, by way of distinction, or to characterize different descriptions of men ; as, for instance, a man who has seen the world; that is, one who has travelled in different quarters of the globe: but it does not always follow that such a man is better informed concerning all the

wonders of the earth than many who have studied them without stirring from their own fireside.

Then, a man who knows the world; or who, having been a principal actor on the scene of public life, has taken a wider range of observation than the generality of men; one, in short, whose own particular world is on a comparatively large scale, and who, having a more extended range of action, has also, usually, a more liberal view of things in general than those who move in a smaller circle.

Taking our leave of this compendious expression, the World, we will only notice the very remarkable misapplication of it which occurs in the common phrase, a man of the world; this is used to describe a person who is utterly ignorant of the world, and of all that it contains, excepting that very small part of it to which he belongs, and to the habits of which he is, as it were, chained by the force of his prejudices; its limits seem to set bounds to his faculties; for, place him beyond them, he is the most ignorant and helpless of human beings; but within this little circle nothing is too secret for him to penetrate, too complicated for him to unravel, or too difficult for him to achieve. His fellow creatures, their pas

sions and foibles, he considers but as tools to be used in carving out his fortune, or stepping-stones to assist the efforts of his ambition; and his most common actions are adapted to some latent object. He has a different mode of behaviour towards every man whom he meets, and can calculate, with surprising foresight, which individual may be speculated upon as an auxiliary, which courted as a patron, which feared as a rival: as for a friend, he knows not the meaning of the term. He makes more evolutions in a small artificial labyrinth of his own creation, than a spider in the construction of her web; and, after a life of elaborate and unnecessary manœuvres, sometimes succeeds in compassing by tact and stratagem those ends which a man of uprightness and plain sense would have gained by fair means, with but half the labour. In the end, he may congratulate himself on being a very weak, narrow-minded, prejudiced, ignorant, and self-sufficient animal, in short, a complete man of the world.

ESSAY XVI.

ON RASHNESS.

"Things done well,

And with a care, exempt themselves from fear.

Things done without example, in their issue,

Are to be feared."

SHAKSPEARE.

RASHNESS is a dangerous error; yet it is one which, in the season of youth, we are inclined to excuse, because it springs from no unworthy source, and it rarely happens that a few years do not effect its cure. Extreme rashness originates in the ardour of youth; in the eagerness of a mind unacquainted with disappointment; in the appetite for pleasure, which has not yet felt satiety; brief then is the season during which it may endure!

A few there are, it is true, who wilfully close their eyes against the lessons of experience, and carry rashness to their grave. But far more frequently does it happen, that the cares of the world,