PERKINS LIBRARY Duke University R&re Books ft R6t Wi)t JWoralfet No. 1, Vol. I. Price Twopence. TO ALL WHO WILL READ. In putting his pen to a new work under the above title, the writer is sensible that the necessary ability is alone required to make it the most important work that was ever submitted to the perusal of maukind as the subject is supereminenl. He comes to the task fully sensible of its importance, and under that care- inspiring-awe, which will stimulate him to do his ut- most to make the work worthy ol its title. Fashion may change opinions, dress and character ; but it cannot change morals : they are always the same amidst the perpetual changes among mankind- Stable as the ex- istence of the human race, they form the only basis whereupon to constitute unanimity ; as they are alike suitable to the highest and the lowest degree of in- tellect. The depravity of mankind is a common lamentation — various remedies have been prescribed— all have con- fessedly and evidently failed — and it behoves the scien- tific moralist to proclaim, that the failure is attributa- ble to a false view having been taken of human nat ure . The views of the mass of mankind have been hitherto more chimerical than social or scientific, which is alone sufficient to account lor their slow progress in mental improvement and civilization. Were the chemist to content himself with chimerical notions respecting the contents of his crucible, his knowledge of their proper- ties snd qualifications would never be increased ; it is by analysing the compound. and ascertaining the proper- ties of the ingredients, that has brought che mistry to be the master-science of the age. In relation to phy- sics, chemistry will ever stand pre-eminent ; and though its discoveries may greatly augment the amount of our happiness, it requires an improved stateof morals, as a co-operation, to extend its benefits, and to lead us towards that perfection, which all must desire, even though conscious, whilst we remain so far from it, that a doubt of its possible attainment must exist. Scienc* London: Printed and Published by R. Carule, 62, Fleet- street. 2 THE MORALIST. brings its advant ages in vain, unless morality advances with it : for while we are debased with immorality, we shall appear and feel in the gardens of science, as filthy animals in well furnished apartments : we shall not enjoy the pleasures which ingenious labour has designed for those who occupy its embellished fabrics. It is proposed, then, in this work, to analyse the moral powers of the human race, to exhibit their propensi- ties find capacities; and, it is hoped, to establish mo- rality as a science, that, in relation to the happiness of mankind, shall not be less useful than the science of chemistry. Morality is defined to be that principle in human ac- tion which delights to do good, and is pained at the thought of giving pain to others : hence it is an axiom, that human happiness can only be extended with indi- vidual and general morality ; and that the first princi- ple, in all reform, must be, first to reform ourselves.— As a multitude of individuals make up society, so a general increase of morality must arise from individual increase ;and as in physics, a knowledge of the disease is liil f its cure; so, in morals, a knowledge of our vices and their effects is half an abandonment: under this impression, The Moralist will teach morality, by an exposure of all existing vices, and by a demon- stration of (heir etiects. Morals differ from customs, in so far as the former is strictly the science of human happiness, while the latter is the result of habit and example, often formed we know not how, and aa often unwholesome as whole- some. Custom goes far to lessen the force of our feel- ings, upon bad h?ibit3 and bad examples, but the amount of evil, arising from unwholesome customs, nothing can expiate, no excuse can justify ; therefore, the abrogation is clearly called for by morality. The force of custom will be continually enlarged upon in this work ; and the nature of exisling customs forcibly displayed, with an encouragement to hold on to those which are good, and to break from off those which are bad. Liberty, with all its high sounding definitions, to be correct, must be recognized as the offspring of mora- lity ; and a truly moral people can never be an enslaved people. We every where see a truly moral man emerge from a low condition, and obtain some honour- able and confidential post : so with the mass in society, the more moral, the higher will be their condition — the greater the amount of their liberty. Nothing can THE MORALIST. 3 be more certain, than that liberty is the offspring of morality ; for a man. with absolute power may still be the greatest of slaves to his own bad passions., and as wretched a slave as any man under his sway. He, therefore, who desires liberty, must first learn to be moral ; for, without this, he will ever be an unhappy slave, assisting - to rivet the slavery of others. Under this view, it is intended, that this work shall be a s!ar in the cause of human liberty : not that species of liber- ty wh ch the brawlin? sot calls for. an increased means to be vicious, but that which shall chasten the hu- man character and increase the amount of solid hap- piness ^ While the work will be solely devoted to the incul- cating; of a system of morals, it will call for nothing painful in the practice, or in the abstinence of the indi- vidual ; but seek to encourage that species of morality, from which nothing but benefits and pleasures accrue. Whatever is beneficial or pleasant to one individual, without becoming unjustly injurious to another, that will be encouraged as strictly allied to the science of morality. No other mortification of the body will be asked for, than that which the health may require. The formation of character has become a principal object of concern aud study, alike with the philantho- pist, the politician, and the philosopher. It begins to be clearly seen, that all the evils with which human societies are afflicted, arise from the aggregate igno- rance of their own state and capacity as individual humaa beings : and instead of employing physical force and bodily torture as a punishment for crime, a faint light has dawned, and it is beginning to shew, that the wisest eourse is to lay the foundation for the prevention in the firslrudiments of education, and that the best species of correction alter an offence i9 committed, is moral instruction, combined with enforced habits of industry. This developement will form a striking feature in our exibition of moral science. The arrangement made fir The Moralist is to write original essays, and such as shall correspond with the knowledge of the day, on drunkenness, theft, lying, iillhiness, idleness, and manners generally ; on swear- ing, or coarse and offensive speech ; on ail the pas- sions separately; on war and quarrels: on modes of diet, dress and dwelling; on social intercourse, on friendship; on pastimes; on marriage ; on parental duties; on filial duties; on education; and, finally, i 4 THE MORALIST, on every subject that affects the character and condi- tion of mankind. And as it is not intended to write by measure, so as to fill up a Number withoneessay ; when the matter writtenjhappens to be short, it will be filled up with a collection of morals and proverbs from all former writers, beginning with Confucius, and coming regularly down ; among which will be placed every moral sentence and sentiment that is to be found in the Bible ; so that the work will eventually embrace all that has ever been written upon the subject of morality. It is further proposed to introduce such scientific knowledge and discoveries as apply to mankind gene- rally, with both moral anecdote and moral narrative, ancient and modern ; and for this purpose, the assist- ance of coi respondents will be embraced. Convinced that the right way to improve the morals of a people is to increase their knowledge, The Mo- ra list will labour assiduously to condense, to simplify and so to communicate the greatest amount of know- ledge, that it shall come home to every understanding ; and take those subjects first which shall be the most interesting. Where ignorance is allied to bad passions, there is no remedy but knowledge ; nothing will con- quer them but a knowledge of the bad effects which they produce. The all important subject of population will come in for a full share of consideration, combined with every question that strictly relates to social economy : though it is not intended to hurry on this part of the arrange- ment until all the vices have been fully expatiated upon. The question of population has been hitherto confined to few of the literati; but the ma*s of the people must be informed that it is a subject most deeply interesting to them. Population and mo rala are questions which cannot well be separated. Thus an outline of the future contents of The Moralist is given, to which a pleJge is added, that, in the discussioD of the subjects, instruction and im- provement will be the only guides. Of personalities, of disputed theories, of any thinj tending to secta- rianism and hostility, a studious abstinence will be observed : those things, which all see in the same light, and which come home to every bosom alike, will be the basis of discussion and developement. The time has arrived when knowledge has become sufficiently powerful, if rightly applied, to supersede all kinds of force in matters of instruction and correction. Civili- THE MORALIST. 5 zation can only be considered ii its dawc, when this jiriDciplH is first legislatively guaranteed. In strict morality there can be no sectarianism, no clanships, no castes: it is the same with all mankind; and unanimity can find no other solid foundation to build upon. It is painful to every reflecting mind, to witness the dissensions and divisions amon? mankind, arising from the most frivolous and most useless causes, such as unnecessary associations, mere geographical difference as to the situation of the place of birth and residence, and chieftainship. Nothing of this kind cau happen with a moral and well-instructed people. They rise above it, ktmw themselves, aDd. in themselves, their dutv to all mackind, whether neighbours, countrymen, or foreigners. The multitude mun be taught, that no kind of hostile or even an^ry divisions can benefit them : their advantages lie in peace, industry, sobriety, mutual support and mutual instruction. The same principle extends to nations. It is in strains of this kind, that The Moralist will instruct : and these are lessons suited alike to the young and to the aged : to the people of all colours, climes, and classes. In taking a view of mankind, it will treat of no other distinctions than moral and immoral — in encouraging the one, and desiring to re- form the other. In pursuit of tbis object, which every good man, of whatever sect, must approve, the support of all is asked to assist in extending the circulation, and to encourage the reading of a work which assures the production of much good, and cannot produce a par- ticle of evil. The beauty of moral instruction may be best appre- ciated by its general application. It suits alike old and young, male and female. It i3 due from parents to children, and not inappropriate, if necessary, when given by children to parents. As it is every where applicable, so it is ever) - where welcome; at least, can no where occasion offence. The father and the mother may ex- patiate on its merits, to either son or daughter, and feel a sense of dignity arise from their endeavours ; because it has no mysteries, no prudent secrets, no- thing that in any case calls for mental reserve. The prudent may communicate it to the imprudent friend, and the effect become an increased degree of friendship, as it carries no envyings, no jealousies, no hatreds, but, on the contrary, has a tendency to dissipate all those bad passions. There is another distinction in morals, alike general 6 THE MORALIST, and particular — they should always be associated with general and particular utility. Some writers of former ages have had a clear idea of the necessity of combining the word useful with the word honest ; but it is ne- cessary to circumscribe the latitude of this expression, by saying, that it can never be useful to do a wrong to any individual, or to any number, unless where the re- fraining from the act would occasion a greater wrong to some other or others. This is a nice point for distinc- tion, and one where deliberation, consultation, and jus- tice, should be called in to decide. In some instances it may be most useful to inflict the greater, in some the lesser wrong. It is a matter precisely at the point where morality and immorality meets; therefore, subject to disputes in consequence of different views and judgments, and different interests: it is not the intention of the wri- ter to approach too near to this difficult and dangerous point, but rather to beat about among those passions where even the unhappy possessors will applaud the effort, if reform be not accomplished: and rather to shew what custom should be, than what it is, or has been. THE MORAL SAYINGS. AND WISE MAXIMS, OF CONFU" CIUS, A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER, WHO LIVED ABOUT TWO THOUSAND FOUR HUNDRED YEARS AGO; AND WHOSE MORAL PRECEPTS HAVE LEFT A LASTING IMPRESSION UPON THE CHINESE NATION. 1. The great secret to aequire true knowledge is to cultivate and polish the reason, and to get a knowledge of things rather than of words, by unceasing persever- ance. 2. When you shall have thus fixed your mind, in this great design, give yourself up to meditation: reason wpon all things within yourself; endeavour to have some clear ideas thereof; consider distinctly what pre- sented itself to you ; pass, without prejudice, solid judgments thereon ; examine every thing, and weigh every thin? with care. After examinations and reason- ings of this nature, jou may easily arrive at the end where you must fix, — at the end where you ought reso- lutely to stand, — viz. at a perfect conformity of all your actions with what reason suggests. 3. To improve a family, the head should take parti- cular care to polish bis own person, and so well to THE MORALIST. 7 compose his words and actions, that they may neither say nor do any tbin^ to o fiend complaisance, nor to be inedifving; so that, in his whole carriage, he may he- come an example to his domestics. To ohtain this ex- terior perfection, strive to rectify your mind, by sub- duing and governing your passions; because the pas- sion* are apt to remove the mind bom its natural rec- titude, and to abase and incline it to all sorts of vice. 4. To will, desire, love, and hate, it is necessary to know. 5. It is impossible that he, who knows not how to govern and reform himself and his own family, can rightly govern and reform a people. 6. When you see any virtuous action done, be n.t slack to imitate it. 7. When the opportunity of doing a reasonable thing shall offer, make use of it without hesitation. 8. Cease not thy endeavours to suppress and to ex- tirpate vice. Always behave yourself with the same precaution and discretion as you would do if you were observed by ten eyes, and pointed at by so many bands. 9. Whatever is both honest and advantageous is amiable; and we love virtue because it includes bom these qualities. Virtue is, moreover, au ornament which embellishes the whole person of him who pos- sesses it, — his interior and exterior; to the mind it communicates inexpressible beauties and perfections ; to the body it produces delightful sensations ; it af- fords a certain physiognomy, certain transports, certain ways, which infinitely please; and, as it is the property of virtue to becalm the heart, and keep peace there, so this inward tranquillity and secret joy produce a certain serenity in the countenance, a certain joy, and air of goodness, kindness, and reason, which attract the esteem of the whole world. 10. The principal business of man is so to rectify his mind, that his passions may be always calm ; and, if it happen that they be excited, he ought to be moved no farther than is necessary, that he may regulate them according to right reason. If he suffer himself to fee transported with excessive anger, if he fall into a rage without any cause, or more than he ought with reason, he may then conclude, that his mind has not the rectitude it ought to have. 11. If we contemn and mortally hate a person, by reason of certain defects which we observe in him, and render not justice to his good and excellent quu- 8 THE MORALIST. lities, if endowed therewith ; if we permit ourselves to be troubled with too great a fear; if we abandon ourselves to an immoderate joy, or to an excessive sorrow, it cannot be said that our mind is in the state wherein it ought to be, that it has rectitude and up- rightness. 12. It is not only necessary to observe moderation in general, as oft as our passions are stirred, but that also in respect of those which are the most lawful, in- nocent, and laudable, we ought not blindly to yield up ourselves to them, and always follow their motions: it is necessary to consult reason. For example : — parents should love one another; nevertheless, as their amity may be too weak, so it may be also too strong; and, as to the one and the other case, there is, doubtless, alike irregularit)'. It is just for a child to love his fa- ther ; but if a father has any considerabie defect, if he has committed any great fault, it is the duty of a son to acquaint him with it, and tell him what may be for his good ; always keeping a due respect, from which he ought not to depart. Likewise, il a son be fallen into any vice, it is the duty of a father to reprove him, and give his advice thereon. But if their love be blind, —if their love be a mere passion, this affection is an irregular affection. Why ? Because it digresseth from the rule of ri^ht reason. 13. A perfect man ought always to be busied in conquering himself. He must suit himself to the man- ners and tempers of others ; but he ought always to be master of his own passions mid actions ; be must not suffer himself to be corrupted by the conversation or the examples of loose and effeminate persons , he must never obey till he has first examined what is com- manded ; he must never imitate others without judg- ment. In the midst of so many mad and blind persons who go at random, he must walk aright, and not in- cline to any party : this is the true valour. More- over, if such a person be called to the magistracy, in a country where virtue be considered, and he change not his morals, how great soever the honours be to which he is advanced ; if he there preserve all the good habits which he had when only a private man : if he do not permit himself to be led away with pride and vanity, — this man is truly valiant! Ah! how great is this valour! But if, on the contrary, he be in a country where virtue and laws are contemned, and that, in the confusion and disorder which there pre- vail, he himself be depressed with poverty,— afflicted, THE MORALIST. 9 reduced even to the loss of life ; but yet, in the midst of so many miseries, he remain constant, preserve all the innocency of his manners, and never change his opinion ; — ah! how great and illustrious is this va- lour ! 14. There are some men, who surpass (he bounds of mediocrity, by affecting to have extraordinary virtues. They covet always to have something marvellous in their actions, to the end that posterity may praise and extol them. Certainly, says Confucius, I shall never be enamoured with these glittering actions, where va- nity and self-love have ever a greater share than virtue. I would only know and practise what is neces- sary to be known and practised every where. 15. There are four rules, according to which a per- fect man ought to square himself. 1. He ought to practise, in respect of his father, what he requires from his son. 2. In the service of the state, be ought to shew the same fidelity which he demands of those who are under him. 3. He must act, in respect of his elder brother, after the same manner he would that his younger brother should act towards himself. 4. He ought to behave himself towards his friends as he desires that his friends should carry themselves towards him. — The perfect man continually acquits himself of these duties, how common soever they may appear. If he happen to perceive that be has done amiss in any thing, he is not at rest till he has repaired his fault: if he find that he has omiited any consi- derable duty, there is not any violence which he does not do to himself, perfectly to accomplish it. He is moderate and reserved in his discourses ; he speaks with circumspection : if lo him occur a great affluence of words, he presumes not to expose it ; he restrains himself. He is so rigorous a censor of himself, that he is not at rest when his words correspond not to his actions, and his actions to his words. Now the way, by which a man arrives at this perfection, is a solid and constant virtue. 16. That love, which it is requisite for all men to have, is not a stranger to man, — it is or should be man himself; or, if you will, ii is a natural property of man, which dictates to him that he ought generally to love all men. Nevertheless, above all men, to love his father and mother is his main and principal duty :- from the practice of which he afterwards proceeds, as 10 THE MORALIST, by degrees, to the practice of that universal love, whose object is all mankind. It is from this universal love that distributive justice comes, — that justice which makes us render to every one bis due, aad more especially to cherish and honour wise and up- right men, and advance them to the dignities and of- fices of state. That difference which is between the love we have for our parents and what we have for others, between the love we bear to virtuous and learned men and that which we bear to those who have not so much virtue or ability ; — that difference is, as it were, a harmony, a symmetry of duties, which rea- son has protected, and in which nothing must be changed, 17. We cannot observe the necessary rules of life, if there be wanting these three virtues : — prudence, which makes us discern good from evil ; universal love, which makes us love all men who are virtuous ; and that resolution (which makes us constantly perse- vere in the adherence to good, and aversion for evil. But lest some fearful persons, not well versed in mo- rality, should imagine that it is impossible for them to acquire these three virtues, they should know that there is no person incapable of acquiring them ; that the impotence of man is voluntary. How dull soever a man is, should he be without experieHce , yet, if he desire to learn, and grow not weary in the study of virtue, he is not very far from prudence. If a man, although full of self-love, endeavour to perform good actions, behold him already very near that universal love which urges him to do good to all. If a man feel a secret shame when he hears impure and unchaste dis- courses, if he cannot forbear blushing thereat, he is not far from that resolution of spirit which makes him constantly seek after good, and have an aversion for evil. 18. If a person has deviated from the path of inte- grity and innocence, he needs only to excite the good that remains to make atonement by pains and indus- try, and he will infallibly arrive at the highest state of virtue. 19. It is necessary, after an exact and extensive manner, to know the causes, properties, differences, and effects of all things. 20. Because that, amongst the things which are known, there may be some which are not perfectly known, it is necessary carefully to examine them, lo weigh them minutely and in every circumstance, and THE MORALIST. 11 thereon to consult wise, intelligent, anil experienced men. 21. Although it seems that we clearly apprehend certain things, yet, because it is easy to transgress, through precipitancy, in the too much or too little, it is necessary to meditate afterwards, in particular, on the things we believe we know, and to weigh every thing hy the weight of reason, with all the attentiveness of spirit, aud with the utmost exactness, whereof we are capable. 22. It is necessary to endeavour not to apprehend things after a confused manner : it is requisite to have some clear ideas thereof, so that we may truly discern the good from the bad, the true from the false. 22. After we have observed all these things, we must re- duce to action, and sincerely and constantly perform and execute, to the utmost of our power, the good resolutions which we have taken. 24. If you undertake an affair for another, manage and follow it with the same eagerness and fidelity as if it had been your own concern. 25. When you are with friends, discourse with them sincerely, and be not satisfied with shewing them slight appearances of kindness and esteem. 26. What think you of a poor man, who, being able to extenuate and diminish his poverty through flattery, refuses to accept this offer, and courageously main- tains that none but cowards and low-spirited men do flatter ? What think you of a rich man, who, notwith- standing his riches, is not proud ? I say that they are both praise-worthy ; but that they are not to be consi- dered as if they were arrived at the highest degree of virtue. He that is poor ought to be cheerful and con- tent in the midst of his indigence : behold, wherein the virtue of the poor man consists. And be that is rich ought to do good to all : he that is of a poor and ab- ject spirit does good only to certain persons : certain passions, certain particular friendships, cause him to act j his friendship is interested : he disperses his wealth only with a prospect of reaping more than he sows ,• he seeks only his own interest : but the love of the perfect man is an universal love ; a love whose object is all mankind. 27. We oujht to be so far mild and courteous, as to forget the offences of others, when they shew signs of sincere repentance. We ought to treat them as if they had been innocent, and so far to forget their faults by cur carriage towards them, as to make tliose 12 THE MORALIST. •who have committed them, in some measure forget them, and so lose sight of that disgrace which can only discourage tbe pursuit of virtue. 28. Bewail not the dead with excess; not to con- strain thy grief is to forget thyself. The wise man ought not to be overcome with grief: in him, it is a weakness — it is a crime. 29. A good man never afflicts himself, nor fears any thing, — he contemns injuries, credits not reproaches, and even refuses to hear bad reports. 30. Punishments should not be too common ; if the Magistrates be good men, if none be advanced to the dignity of the magistracy but such persons as are dis- tinguished by their honesty and exemplary life, every one would apply himself unto virtue, because that ad- vancement being that which all men naturally desire, every one willing to possess it would endeavour to render himself worthy the public approbation. 31. Hypocrites maybe compared to those professed villains, who, the better to conceal their designs, ap- pear wise and modest in the day-time, and who, by favour of the night, rob and commit the most infamous crimes. 32. Those 'who constantly consult their appetites and palates, never do any thing worthy of their rank as men ; they are rather brutes than rational creatures. 33. Endeavour to imitate the wise, and never dis- courage thyself, how laborious soever it maybe: if thou canst arrive at thine end, the pleasure thou wilt enjoy will recompense all thy pains. 34. The virtue, which is not supported with serious- ness, gains no reputation among men. 35. Always remember that thou art a man, that human nature is frail, and that thou mayest easily fall; and thou shalt never fall. But if, happening to forget what thou art. thou chancest to fall, be not discou- raged ; remember that thou mayest rise again ; that it is in thy power to break the bans which join thee to thy offence, and to subdue the obstacles which hinder thee from walking in the paths of virtue. 36. Take heed that thy promises be just, for, having once promised, it is not right to retract : we ought always to keep a free and voluntary promise. 37. When thou doest homage to anyone, see that thy submissions be proportioned to the homage thou owest him : there are stupidity and pride in doing too little; but, in overacting it, there are abjection and hypocrisy. THE MORALIST. 13 38. Eat not for the pleasure thou mayest find therein ; eat to increase thy strength; eat to preserve the life which tbou hast received. 39. Labour to purify thy thoughts; if thy thoughts are not ill, neither will thy actions be so. 40. The wise man has an infinity of pleasures; for virtue has its delights in the midst of the severities that attend it. 41. He who in his studies wholly applies himself to labour and exercise, and neglects meditation, loses his time; and he who only applies himself to meditation, and neglects experimental exercise, does only wander and lose himself. The first can never kDow any thing exact- ly ; his knowledge will be always intermixed with doubts and obscurities ; and the last will only pursue shadows ; his knowledge will never be certain, it will Dever be solid. Labour, but slight not meditation: meditate, but slight not labour. 42. When we cannot apply any remedy to an evil, it is in vain to seek it. If, by thine advices, and remon- strances, thou couldst undo what is already done, thy silence would be criminal : but there is nothing colder than advice, by which it is impossible to profit. 43. Poverty and human miseries are evils in them- selves, but the wicked only resent them. It is a burden under which they groan, and which makes them at last to sink : they even distaste the best fortune. It is the wise man only who is always pleased : virtue renders his spirit quiet; nothing troubles him, nothing disquiets him, because he practises not virtue for a reward ; the practice of virtue is the sole recompence he ex- pects. 44. It is only the good man who can make a right choice, who can either love or hate with reason, or as need requires. 45. He who applies himself to virtue, and strongly addicts himself therereunto, never commits any thing unbecoming a man. nor contrary to right reason. 46. Riches and honours are good : the desire to pos- sess them is natural to all men: but, if these good things agree not with virtue, the wise man ought to contemn, and generously to renounce them. On the contrary, poverty and ignomiDy are evils ; man natu- rally avoids them: if these evils attack the wise man. it is right that he should rid himself of thsm, but not by a crime. , 47. He who mixes pride with bis bad habits, and foves not frugality, is not disposed for the study of wis- 14 THE MORALIST. dom : thou oughtest not even to hold correspondence with him. 48. Afflict not thyself, because that thou art not promoted to grandeur and public dignities ; rather grieve that thou art not, perhaps, adorned with those virtues that might render thee worthy of being ad- vanced. 49. The good man employs himself only with virtue, the wicked only with his riches. The first continu- ally thinks upon the good and interest of the State; but the last has other cares, he only thinks on what concerns himself. 50. Do unto another what you would he should do unto you ; and do not unto another what you would not should he done unto you. Thou only neede«t this law alone, it is the foundation and principle of all the rest. 51. The wise man has no sooner cast his eyes upon a good man, than he endeavours to imitate his virtue : but the same wise man has no sooner fixed his sight upon a man given up to his vices, than, mistrusting- himself, in a trembling manner, he interrogates himself, if he be not like that man. 52. A child is in duty bound to serve and obey his parents. Parents have failures : a child may acquaint them therewith; but he ought to do it with moderation and prudence ; and if, whatever precaution he takes, he always meets with opposition, he ought to rest awhile, but never desist. Counsels given to parents do frequently draw punishments and severities upon the child ; but on this accont he ought to suffer with- out murmuring. 53. The wise man never hastens,either in Lis studies or his words ; he is sometimes, as it were, mute, but when it concerns him to act, and practice virtue, he, as I may say, precipitates all. 54. The truly wise man speaks but little, he is lit- tle eloquent. I do not see that eloquence can be of very great use to him. 55. A long experience is required to know a man. When I was young, I imagined, that all men were sin- cere ; that they always practised what they said ; in a word, that their mouth always agreed with their inten- tions: but now that I behold things with another eye, lam convinced that I was mistaken. At present, I hear/ what men say, but I never rely thereon, I will examine whether their words be agreeable to their ac ions : and not always be content with their outward action?. THE MORALIST. 15 56 Give thy superfluities to the poor. 57. The defects of parents ought not to be imputed to th*»ir children. If a father, by his crimes, render himself unworthy of being promoted to honour ; the son ought not to be excluded, if he do not render himself iiDwortby. If a son shall be of an obscure birth, his birth ought not to be his crime ; he ought to be called to great employments, as well as the rich, if he has the qualifications necessary. 58. Prefer poverty and banishment to the most eminent offices of state, when it is a wicked man that offers them, and would constrain thee to accept them. 59. The way that leads to virtue is long, but it is thy duty to finish this long race ; allege not for thy excuse, that thou hast not strength enough, that difficnlties dis- courage thee, and that thou shalt be, at last, forced to stop in the midst of thy course. Thou knowest nothing , begin to run: it is a sign thou hast not as jet begun; thou shouldst not use this language. 60. It is not enough to know virture, it is necessary to love it ; but it is not sufficient to love it, it is necessary to possess it. 61. He who persecutes a good man, makes war against himself and all mankind. 62. A Magistrate ought to honour his father and mother; he ought neveT to faulter in this just duty ; his example ought to instruct the people. He ought not to contemn old persons, nor persons of merit : the people may imitate him. 63. A child ought to be under a continual apprehen- sion of doing something that may displease his father : this fear ought always to possess him. Jn a word, he ought to act in whatever he undertakes, with so much precaution, that he may never offend, nor afflict him. 64. Greatness of spirit, power, and persever- ance, ought to be the portion of the wise : the bur- den wherewith he is loaded is weighty ; his course is long. 65. The wise man never acts without counsel. He sometimes consults, in the most important affairs, even the least intelligent persons ; men that have the least spirit, and the least experience. When counsels are good, we ought not to consider from whence they come. 66. Eschew vanity and pride. Although thou hast nil the prudence and ability ef the ancients, if thou hast not humility, thou hast nothing ; thou art even the man of the world that deserves to be contemned. 10 THE MORALIST. 67. Learn what thou knowest already, as if thou hadst never learned it : things are never so well known but that we may forget them. 68. Do nothing that is unhandsome, although thou shouldest have art enough to make thine action ap- proved : thou majest easily deceive the eyes of man for a time, but thou art alwayi in danger of detec- tion. 69. Never contract friendship with a man who is not better than thyself. 70 The wise man blushes at his faults, but is not ashamed to amend them. 71. He who lives without envy and covetousness may aspire at every thing. 72. Wouldst thou learn to die well ? — learn first to live well. 73. Innocence ceases to be a virtue, since those in power are fallen therefrom and exhibit bad examples. But if thou demandest what must be done to recover this virtue, I answer, that it is necessary to conquer thy- self. If all mortals could, in one day, gain over them- selves this happy victory, the whole lace of the earth would re-assume a new form, we should all be perfect ; we should all be innocent. It is true, the victory is diffi- cult, but it is not impossible; for, in short, to conquer thyself is only to do what is agreeable to reason. Turn away thine eyes, stop thine ears, put a bridle upon thy tongue, and rather remain in an eternal inactiou than employ thine eyes in beholding sights where reason is stifled, than give attention thereunto, or to discourse thereon. Behold, how thou mayest overcome ! The victory depends on thyself alone. 74. Desire not the death of thine enemy: thou wouldst desire in vain, if his life were not in thine hands. 75- Acknowledge thy benefits by the return of other benefits, but never revenge injuries. 76. It is easy to obey the wise; he commands no- thing impossible, but it is hard to divert him there- from : that which oftentimes rejoices others make him to sigh. 77. In whatsoever part of the world thou art forced to spend thy life, correspond with the wisest, associate with the best men. {To be continued.) Londox: Printed and Published by R. C'arlilb, 62, Fleet-street. No. 2. Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON DRUNKENNESS. Dire as is this abuse of the body, much as it enervates the frame and hastens its dissolution, the greatest aggre- gate evil arising from it is, the misery brought upon fami- lies, and, in the multitude of families, upon the commu- nity. The man, or woman, who swallows intoxicating liquors from habit, swallows gold, or the representative of any other valuable commodity, and turns it all to dross : whilst the powers of the body thus employed are rendered destructive of self and other substance, when they might have been more happily engaged as productive of good to self, family, and all mankind. Drunkenness is therefore a crime of deep dye ; deeper than theft : for a theft does not suppose the destruction of property, but an unjust taking from one person to apply to the use of another. Theft is only an unjust removal of property from person and place ; but Drunkenness is an annihilation of pro- perty, and an accumulation of pain to all parties. Drunkenness is the most offensive of all crimes ; for it is that alone where the sense of wrong and shame is lost ; all others are sought to be made secret ; this exhibits it- self with inflated offensiveness, and the offender is in- sensible to the judgments of those whom he offends ; making that his frenzied boast which his every friend must condemn. Every act of the kind is a temporary in- sanity, and it is a wise legislation that treats habitual drunkenness as an incurable incapacity to partake of civil rights. The action of intoxicating liquor is chiefly upon the nerves and their root, the brain. A fluid is generated which pervades the whole body, first apparently invigo- rating ; but, if increased, it overpowers the whole channel of sensation, and produces a temporary death. Repeti- tions of tins kind sap all the sources of health : and if the victim be not so fortunate as to obtain an apoplectic fit in one of his abuses, he lingers with an emaciating frame, through a painful decline, to death ; or changes his solid ok don : Printed and Published by R. Carlili, 84, Fleet-street. 18 THE MORALIST. fibres for a mass of bloated corruption, which recovers no nxidity but in gouty concretions, and joints rendered ad- hesive by calcareous matter. He has no ease, but in tem- porary suspensions of his sensations, in the intervals of a thousand deaths : he knows no pleasures, but in the swallowing of those poisons which increase his disease and ulterior pains : he becomes his own tormentor, throughout his wretched existence, and wars with the few pleasurable sensations which are every man's lot. I will not, cries he, know sensible happiness : I will be misera- ble ; I will gratify that passion wbich my own conscience assures me to be the source of nothing but distraction to myself, misery to those who are connected with me, and disgrace to all about me. It is thus that Vice sits in judgment on itself, and, with the most strict justice, ap- portions a punishment equivalent to the offence. The drunkard is a nuisance, a plague, that ought to be removed from society ; not only is the social order inter- rupted, but the community is diseased, degraded, and weakened by the existence of every pest of this kind. A proof of the degradation may be found in the following scene, reported to have lately happened in Glasgow. — On a reduction in the price of whisky, its votaries, rejoicing at the circumstance, indulged in extra quantities. One man, oppressed with this sense-destroying liquor, fell in- sensible into the gutter of the street. A dog, commise- rating his condition and situation, seized the collar of his coat, struggled until it removed the head of the drunkard from the gutter to the curb-stone, and apparently enjoyed the success of the effort to better the man's position : whilst he, the human brute, lay cursing his disturber, by calling him a thief ! What answer can be given to the question, as to which was the superior animal of the two — that bog, or tkat drunkard ; but that the former was the more reasonable animal ? Let us take another likeness of a drunken maD. First, he resorts to the alehouse, or other such rendez- vous, from a false notion, that it is manly so to do : then he professes attachment to the company he there meets, and the mental recreation it affords him : the love of spirituous liquors grows upon him ; he proceeds in this vicious course, until it becomes a passion that rules, not only his every sense, but every other passion ; and he vields to the excess, as far as his means, his credit, or bis THE MORALIST. 19 capacity to swallow admits. Thus prepared — see him tbe jest of his less drunken companions, in the unwholesome atmosphere of some close and tainted room — see him lolling on the table from stupefaction, or falling under it from the incapacity to sit upright, from overwhelmed sen- sation : — see his pockets and his person the subject of abuse : — see him dragged forth as an offensive carcase, no longer capable of yielding ruffian sport to his compa- nions, nor profit to the retailer of liquors : — follow him towards his home, mark the scoffs of the passer-by, though by him not felt, the blush and indignation of his virtuous wife, and tbe fears of his neglected children : — see the beast forced on a bed, and insensible to the vomits of his loaded and repelling stomach : — see and consider this out- rage upon domestic happiness ; pity the wife of such a husband; — pity the man himself; but reprobate and avoid his crime. And can it be said, that there are women addicted to the vice? can it be said, that this milder, softer sex, can brutalise itself to an equal extent 1 Yes ! there are such, and lamentable is the circumstance ! The husband of such a wife, and the children of such a mother, suffer more than when the case is reversed in the parents : and a drunken woman forms the climax of disgusting things, of dreadful perversions. See her hair dishevelled, no covering on her head, her face bloated or emaciated, her breasts flacid, her clothes torn, her body naked and in- sensible to abuse :— see her children crying from hunger and cold, her husband driven from his home, ashamed of such a partner, dishonoured and distracted with the con- sequences to his suffering children and exhausted self: — see such a woman, and if you cannot reclaim, confine her ; do not leave her the dreadful opportunity so to disgrace and contaminate her sex. If we look for drunkenness where wealth abounds, and there it is also found, we see the same personal abuses ; though not the immediate dreadful consequences, as where the vice has to feed upon the produce of labour. If a drunken man or woman could but ask the questions : "What haye I spent in intoxicating liquor ? Was it ne- cessary as wholesome nourishment ? What would that sum have purchased in wholesome food and clothing 1 and what would the time wasted have produced 1 What the difference in domestic and personal comforts, when time 20 THE MORALIST. and means are well applied ? If such questions could but reach the bosoms of those who so abuse themselves ; if a fair view could be taken of the case, intoxicating liquors would be abhorred, other than as a medicine ; the alehouse, spirit shop, or tavern, would be shunned as a pest-house, and no company valued but that which could be obtained without such abuses. It does not follow from these sketches, that the ale- house, spirit shop, or tavern, are constituted evils : such houses cannot be dispensed with, in the present state of society. The abuses apply to the individuals, who abuse the accommodation and publicity which such houses ne- cessarily afford to travellers and strangers. They may be used to advantage, as well as abused. It is where they are resorts of habit, not necessity, that the evil is gene- rated, and the host and the company are alike disgraced. Drunkenness is in itself a wide-spreading evil j but the habit is generated in such haunts, where almost every other bad habit and crime is to be acquired. It is are that it exists alone, or as a single crime, in the individual. The preparatory step to this, is the preparatory step to al- most every other crime ; and the chances are many to one, that the incipient drunkard will become a gambler, a thief, a fraudulent bankrupt, or the inhabitant of a gaol, on some ground. In nine cases out of ten, assaults, manslaughters and even murders, are the results of drunkenness. Breaches of the peace, are but rarely found among persons of sober habits. Idleness is also the constant and even consequent concomitant of drunkenness ; and fair industry is rarely the resource to obtain the means of pursuing a bad habit. Take advice, O Drunkard ! conquer that passion which degrades thee — resolutely abstain from those intoxicating liquors and drugs ; make thyself an object of respect to thy neighbour ; to thy children a father ; to thy wife a husband ; to thy parents a son : that all may rejoice in thy recovery, and benefit by thy repentance and future good example. Nothing can be more unreasonable than the practice of drinking in companies, or at the meetings of two friends, as a matter of friendship. That surely cannot be called an act of friendship, where each urges the other to do an act that is injurious to his health, and wasteful to his property, If Friendship has no criterion but this, better would it be THE MORALIST. 21 there were none ; but it has another criterion, and this is only the friendship of irrational animals, of such persons as live but for the abuse of their bodies, and the increase of the amount of human pain. Assemblies of persons of both sexes, both select and general, seem to be a gratifying object : the practice of the day is to bring them together for the sake of eating and drinking, or more strictly speaking, to abuse their bodies by an excess of eating and drinking, at what is called a feast. So long as this practice lasts, it can prove but one thing — that society is not yet civilized — that it yet retains more of sensuality than of sentimentality. All public associations should be used for mental improvement, ex- hibitions of talent, or for political matters ; and not for seasons of feeding the body. To a delicate mind, there is something not very nice in public eatings and public drinkings ; there is something approaching to indecency and filthiness in the practice ; and it will certainly be re- linquished as the manners of society become further im- proved. Taking refreshment, and partaking of a public feast, are two different things : the one is a wholesome at- tendance to nature's call ; the other is something like a debauch. Besides, it is rare to find good company among those who spend their whole time, or much of their time, in pub- lic companies for feasting aDd drinking. The well-in- formed man shuns the scene, as painful in the contempla- tion, and more painful in the participation. He sees no means of improvement there ; and prefers the company of his books, or to dwell upon his own private contempla- tions, if he cannot introduce himself to men of his own habits. The most important business of life is mental improve- ment. Provision for the body is good ; dress and dwelling are made imperative by prudence : but this provision is accelerated, not retarded, by due mental improvement. The one springs out of the other. The drunkard should therefore learn, that he neglects that most important busi- ness, and even more ; for he blunts the little sense he might have formerly acquired, and goes on to obliterate past, instead of adding to present, improvement. This may be clearly shown by examining a drunkard's progress ; and instances offer themselves in every neigh- bourhood. It is well understood, that there is a peculiar 22 TBE MORALIST. spirit in every intoxicating liquor ; the chemical term for this spirit is — alcohol. A very small quantity of this spirit, taken in an unmixed state, would destroy life ; and it is only rendered slow in its operation hy being mixed with water and mucilaginous matter. The strongest spirit drank is about half-and-half, or half pure spirit and half water, or other mixture. An ordinary grog may be supposed to contain but one-fifth of this pure spirit, and the sugar greatly abates the force of that. Wine has about the same proportion. Strong malt liquors contain no more than one-twentieth of this spirit ; but it has be- come general to substitute drugs still more deleterious ; and any thing like wholesome beer is now rare to be found in houses licensed for its sale. Of particular effects produced by drinking, in the shape of disease, we cannot do better than copy statements and facts, and experiments made by professional men ; and with such this article will conclude : but we would have the drunkard to reflect upon the waste of time, the waste of property, the pains he inflicts upon others as well as upon himself, the scandal and disgrace, both private and public, and above all, the bad example which he exhibits, and too often the infamous seduction which he practises, in pursuing his most mad career, and in urging others to do the same. DR. WILLAN'S CATALOGUE OF THE COMPLAINTS ARISING FROM THE INTEMPERATE USE OF SPIRITUOUS LIQUORS.* " Among the lists of Chronic diseases, a never-failing series of complaints, mostly produced by the intempe- rate use of spirituous liquors, has been comprised under the titles of Dyspepsia, Gastrodynia, Enterodynia, and Intestinal Haemorrhagy; to which may be added, several cases of the Asthenia, Paralysis, Apoplexy, Gravel or Dysury, Scirrhous Liver, Jaundice, and Dropsy. Fevers, internal inflammations, and many pulmonic diseases, are rendered inveterate, or even fatal, by the same kind of intemperance. On comparing my own observations with the Bills of Mortality, 1 am convinced that considerably * The whole of the remainder of this article is a copy of selections made by Mr. Yates, and published as an Ap- pendix to some discourses he had delivered on the evils of drunkenness ; being strictly applicable to this or any similar publication. THE MORALIST. 23 more than one-eighth of all the deaths which take place in persons above twenty years old, happen prematurely through excess in drinking spirits. These pernicious liquors are generally supposed to have an immediate and specific effect on the liver ; which viscus has been found after death, in drinkers of spirits, hardened or altered as to its texture, discoloured and diminished. It appears, however, that the stomach and bowels suffer first from the use of spirits ; and that their baneful influence is afterwards extended gradually to every part of the body, producing morbid phenomena. 1. The usual symptoms of indigestion, attended with a disrelish of plain food ; with frequent nausea, and op- pressive pains at the stomach ; with an inexpressible sensation of sinking, faintness, and horror ; and with sudden, convulsive discharges from the stomach into the mouth, of a clear, acid, or sweetish fluid. 2. Racking pains and violent contractions of the bowels, and of the abdominal muscles. These symptoms often return, periodically, about four o'clock in the morn- ing, being attended with extreme depression or languor, a shortness of breath, and the most dreadful apprehen- sions. 3. In persons of the sanguine temperament, inflamma- tion of the peritoneal membrane, long continued, and producing intense pain, so that the slightest pressure on the abdomen cannot be endured. 4. Swelling of the abdomen, emaciation of the limbs, with frequent cramps ; and pains of the joints, finally settling in the soles of the feet. These symptoms are succeeded by a degree of paralysis ; or, at least, an in- capacity of moving the limbs with any considerable effect. 5. Sallowness of the complexion, with dryness and scaliness of skin. As the powers of circulation are more and more impaired, the red vessels disappear from the white of the eye, the secretion of the bile is imperfectly performed, and the small hairs of the skin fall off, leaving the surface, especially of the lower extremities, very smooth and shining. 6. Jaundice, ascites, dropsical swelling of the legs, with general redness or inflammation of the skin, termi- nating in black spots and gangrenous ulcers. 7. A frequent recurrence of apthous ulcerations in the mouth, throat, &c, and an offensive smell of the breath, similar to that of rotten apples. 24 THE MORALIST. Haemorrbagy. The intemperate use of spirits often occasions profuse discharges of blood from the nostrils, stomach, bowels, kidneys, or bladder; and from the lungs, in persons of a consumptive habit. 9. An entire change in the state of the mind : at first, low spirits, strange sensations, and groundless fears, al- ternate with unseasonable, and often boisterous, mirth ; a degree of stupidity, or confusion of ideas, succeeds. The memory, and the faculties depending on it, being im- paired, there takes place an indifference towards usual occupations and accustomed society or amusements ; no interest is taken in the concerns of others ; no love, no sympathy remain. Even natural affection to nearest re- latives is gradually extinguished ; and the moral sense seems obliterated. The wretched victims of a fatal poison fall at length into a state of fatuity, and die with the powers both of body and mind wholly exhausted. Some, after repeated fits of derangement, expire in a sudden and violent phrenzy. Some are hurried out of the world by apoplexies ; others perish by the slower pro- cess of jaundice, dropsy, apthous ulcerations of the ali- mentary canal, and gangrenous ulcers of the extremities." — Reports of the Diseases in London, by Robert Willan, M. D., F. A. S. London, 1801, p. 132-136. THE EFFECTS OF THE HABIT OF DRINKING SPIRITS UPON THE TEETH. The following remarks concerning the effects of spiritu- ous liquors upon the teeth, are the more deserving of at- tention, because they come from the late Mr. Fox, a most eminent dentist, as well as an enlightened philanthropist ; — " When people have habituated themselves to the use of spirituous liquors, the injurious effects upon the teeth are more apparent. The teeth acquire a very stained and foul appearance ; the gums, being more or less inflamed, are covered with a slimy mucus, and are often liable to bleed j the breath also becomes very offen- sive ; and as the regular passing of the spirituous liquors over the tender skin of the mouth creates a con- stant degree of inflammation, the heat of the mouth is greatly increased. This state of the mouth is also kept up by the increased heat of the stomach, and when, by the debilitating effects of spirits upon that organ, indi- gestion is produced, the teeth very rapidly fall into a state of decay. - General Norton, the Mohawk Chief, who was in this THE MORALIST. 25 country a few years ago, was asked by a professional gentleman concerning the state of the teeth amongst the Indians. His reply was decisive upon this subject — 1 When the Indians are in their own settlements, living upon the produce of the chase, and drinking water, their teeth always look clean and white. But when they go into the United States and get spirituous liquors, their teeth look dirty and yellow ; and I have often heard, that they were frequently afflicted with the tooth-ache, and obliged to have their teeth drawn.' — Published by Basil Montague, Esq., in " Inquiries into the Effects of Fermented Liquors." London, Johnson and Co., 1814. ON THE MEANS OF CURING THE DISEASE OP HABITUAL DRUNKENNESS. In addition to serious and impartial reflection upon his own case, an attention to all the arguments which reason and religion urge against his vice, and the most manly, vigorous, and solemn resolutions to abandon it, I would recommend to any person addicted to the use of spiritu- ous liquors to consult some able and faithful physician respecting the best mode of relieving himself from his fatal disease. Whether the use of spirits should be discontinued gradually, or all at once, may perhaps de- pend upon the circumstances of the case. The question seems not to be decided among medical men. " In some cases,'' says Dr. Lettsom, " where the habit of drams has been long continued, the total and sudden omission of them has sunk the person into irretrievable debility. Here this pernicious custom must be left off gradually. A man who usually drank twelve drams a day, being convinced of his approaching misery, took the resolution to wean himself from this poison. He always drank out of one glass ; into this he daily dropped a drop of sealing- wax. By this means he had twelve drops less of spirit every day, till at length, his glass being filled with wax, his habit was cured. The same advantage has been obtained by taking the dram out out of a quart bottle, which is to be replenished each time with as much water, and by this means gradu- ally diluting the remaining liquor till its strength be- comes wholly subdued, and little more than the substi- tuted water remains. Painful indeed is this truth, that when the indulgence in spirituous liquors is rendered habitual, it is extremely difficult to overcome. Although the miserable object is 26 THE MORALIST. persuaded that it clouds his reason, debilitates his mental as well as corporeal faculties, debars him from all the cheerful gratifications annexed to health and virtue, — yet so extensive are the debility and tremors of the body, and so horrid is the despondency of the mind, after the exhil- arating effects of these liquors have subsided, that, with- out a perseverance in determined efforts to vanquish this habit, a repetition of the delusive poison will be indulged, till resolution is too transient and weak to enable the victim to stop at the precipice which terminates his pain- ful existence. May such, however, as have strength of resolution to reflect upon their danger, be encouraged by an assurance, that however great the debility may feel, and strong the idea of dissolution may appear, yet, from mere debility alone, life is not in danger ; and this is a certain fact, that the longer and more frequently the evil habit is resisted, that habit becomes less powerful, whilst the strength of the constitution proportionally augments, and thereby ren- ders the victory less difficult than might at first appear : and what exertions are more interesting and worthy of a rational being, than those which substitute vigour and health of body for agitation, tremor, and pain 1 and serenity and cheerfulness of mind for horror, despon- dency, and suicide? — History of some of the effects of hard drinking, published in the "Memoirs of the Medi- cal Society of London," vol. i., and reprinted at Edin- burgh in 1790. Dr. Rush maintains, that the gradual disuse of spirits is in no case necessary. " My observations,'' says he, ** authorise me to say, that persons who have been ad- dicted to them, should abstain from them suddenly and entirely. « Taste not, handle not, touch not,' should be in- scribed upon every vessel that contains spirits, in the house of a man who wishes to be cured of intemperance. To obviate for a while the debility which arises from the sudden obstruction of the stimulus of spirits, laudanum, or bitters infused in water, should be taken, and perhaps a larger quantity of beer or wine than is consistent with the strict rules of temperate living. By the temporary use of these substitutes for spirits, I have never known the transition to sober habits to be attended with any bad effects, but often with permanent health of body and peace of mind.''— p. 384. Linnseus (Aman. Acad, vol, vii. p. 281,) is very de. THE MORALSIT. 27 cided in maintaining, that the habit of hard drinking must be abandoned gradually ; on the other hand, Dr. Heberden, in his medical Commentaries, c. 32, seems to favour the opinion delivered by Dr. Rush. ON GIVING SPIRITUOUS LIQUORS TO INFANTS. "Medical practitioners, much conversant among the poor, find them perpetually stinting the growth, and de- stroying the constitution, of their children, by their ill- judged kindness in sharing with them those distilled liquors which they swallow with so much avidity them- selves. Among the causes fatal to the health of the higher classes, the allowance of wine that is so often served out to the children, short as it may appear, deserves to be considered as not the least considerable. Mr. Sandford, surgeon, at Worcester, in his useful and enter- taing tract on wine and spirits, relates the following observation, which may be confirmed by thousands equally certain, though made with less precision. 'A late ingenious surgeon, occupied for a part of his life in experiments equally well conducted and accurately exe- cuted, gave to one of his children a full glass of sherry every day after dinner for a week. The child was then about five years old, and had never been accustomed to wine. To another child, nearly of the same age, and under similar circumstances, he gave a large China orange, for the same space of time. At the end of the week he found a very material difference in the pulse, the heat of the body, &c. &c, of the two children. In the first, the pulse was quickened, the heat increased, &c. &c, whilst the second had every appearance that indicated high health. He then reversed the experiment : to the first- mentioned child he gave the orange, and to the other the wine. The effects followed as before ; a striking and de- monstrative proof of the pernicious effects of vinous liquors on the constiution of children in full health.' The deficiency of bile is full evidence of the injurious effect of the wine upon the digestive organs in this double experiment ; and the result itself must be regarded as the more satisfactory, since the author, to judge from the terms in which he is described, could have been no less a personage than the late Mr. Hunter." — Dr. Beddoes's Hygeia, Essay viii. p. 34, 36. Dr. Garnett, speaking of the large proportion of children who die under twelve years of age, in the Western Islands, says, "The pernicious custom of giving 28 THE MORALIST. them spirits, when very young, no doubt hastens their destruction." — Tour in Scotland, vol. i. p. 161. Linnaeus says, he had known instances of nurses, who, having drunk largely of spirits after fasting, in a very short time gave their breasts to infants, when, in conse- quence of the rapid diffusion of the alcohol through the bodily frame of the nurses, and its communication, in union with milk, to the infants, they were thrown into con- vulsions, and sometimes expired. — Amaenitates Acade- mics, vol. vii. p. 273. ON SOME FALSE PLEAS FOR DRINKING SPIRITS. "Ardent spirits are said to be necessary in very cold weather. This is far from being true ; for the temporary warmth they produce is always succeeded by a greater disposition in the body to be affected by cold. Warm dresses, a plentiful meal just before exposure to the cold, and eating occasionally a little gingerbread, or any other cordial food, is a much more durable method of preserv- ing the heat of the body in cold weather." — Dr. Rush, p. 249, 250. The seamen sent annually by the Russian Govern- ment to winter at Spitzbergen, as one means of avoiding the fatal effects of the excessive cold, abstain entirely from spirituous liquors. In 1st vol. of '* Memoirs of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester," is a valuable paper by Dr. Aikin, entitled, " Remarks on the different Success, with respect to Health, of some attempts to pass Winter in high Northern Latitudes.'* The inference, deduced from the comparison of a variety of cases, is, that those who drank vinous or spirituous liquors died ; — those who drank water only were preserved. " Convinced as I am," says the judicious and very esti- mable author, " that art never made so fatal a present to mankind as the invention of distilling spirituous liquors, and that they are seldom or never a necessary, but almost always a pernicious article in the diet of men in health, I cannot but look with peculiar satisfaction on the con- firmation this opinion receives by the events in these nar- ratives." As to those who maintain the necessity of drinking spirits in cold and moist climates, such as some parts of Scotland and Ireland, it is enough to reply, that the use of these liquors was unknown till about 300 years ago. How did all the Northern nations of Europe and America subsist, before the invention of distilled spirits had yet reached theml THE MORALIST. 29 In Scotland, we often hear whisky recommended as the least noxious spirit. Bat is it noxious at all ! Then why- should we drink it? There is, however, no ground for this preference of whisky to other spirituous liquors. " They are all poisons, and are nearly alike deleterious." — Dr. Lettsom. " Of all the baneful compositions pre- pared with ardent spirit, shrub is, perhaps, the least so, if diluted with a proper quantity of water, because a very large proportion, possibly nearly one- half of the liquor, becomes, in reality, a kind of mucilage (which is nu- tritious), by means of the sugar and fruit contained in it." — Sandford's Practical Remarks on Wine and Spirits, p. 89. Another plea for drinking drams, is, that they are ne- cessary to assist digestion, after certain kinds of food, such as fish. If so, avoid those kinds of food. The fact, how- ever, is, that the stomach of a temperate and healthy person requires nothing whatever to promote the digestion of any reasonable meal; and that the swallowing of spirits contributes to promote digestion, in any circumstances, appears by no means certain. " The substances received into the stomach that prove most hurtful to its operations, are intoxicating or fer- mented liquors. In order to observe the first effect of these liquors, when of considerable strength, I caused an equal quantity of the same food to be given to two young dogs of' the same litter. Immediately after feeding:, three drachms of spirit of wine (of commerce), mixed with a single drachm of water, were poured down the throat of one of the animals. In five hours, both were opened within a very few minutes of each other. The animal to which the spirit was given had its stomach nearly twice as full as its fellow. The bits of flesh were as angular as immediately after they were cut by the knife at the time of feeding ; they were also as firm in their substance. In the other dog these angles were rounded off, and the pieces throughout much softer. Strongliquors are equally productive of indigestion in man. Many hours, and even a whole night, after a debauch in wine, it is common enough to reject a part, or the whole dinner, undigested.'' — Beddoes's Hygeia, Essay 8th, p. 25. maxims of confucius. — Concluded. 78. The wise man must learn to know the passions of wan, to the end that, taking every one according to his 30 THE MORALIST. inclination, he may not labour in vain when he shall dis- course to him of virtue. All men ought not to be in- structed after the same way. There are divers paths that lead to virtue ; the wise man ought not to be ignorant of them. 79. Combat night and day against thy vices ; and if, by thy cares and vigilance, thou gainest the victory over thy- self, courageously attack the vices of others ; but attack them not before this be done : there is nothing more ridi- culous than to complain of the defects of others, when we have the very same. 80. The good man errs sometimes; weakness is na- tural to him ; but he ought to watch so diligently over him- self, that he may never fall twice into the same error. 84. We have three friends that are useful to us, — a sincere friend, a faithful friend, a friend who bears every thing, who examines what is told him, and who speaks but little ; but we have three also whose friendship is per- nicious, — a hypocrite, a flatterer, and a great talker. 82. He who applies himself to virtue has three enemies to contend with, which he must subdue : — incontinence, when he is as yet in the vigour of his age, and the blood boils in his veins ; contests and disputes, when he is arrived at mature age ; and covetousness, when he is old. 83. There are three things which the wise man ought to reverence : — the laws of nature, great men, and the words of good men. 84. We may have aversion for an enemy without de- siring revenge : the emotions of nature are not always criminal. 85. Distrust a flatterer, a man affected in his discourses, and who every where boasts of his eloquence : this is not the character of true virtue. 86. Silence is absolutely necessary to the wise man. Great discourses, elaborate discourses, piecesof eloquence, ought to be a language unknown to him : his actions ought to be his language. The universe speaks, but what lan- guage does it use to preach to man 1 — That there is a sove- reign principle, from whence all things depend ; a sove- reign principle, which makes them to move and to act. Its motion is its language; it reduces the seasons to their time ; it agitates nature, it makes it produce : this silence is eloquent. 87. It is very difficult, when poor, not to hate poverty ; but it is possible -o be rich without being proud. THE MORALIST. 31 88. The wise man seeks the cause of his defects in him- self ; but the fool, avoiding himself, seeks it in all others besides himself. 89. Contract friendship with a man who is upright and sincere ; with a man who loves to learn, and who can teach thee something in his turn. Other men are unworthy of thy friendship. 90. When thy country's safety is concerned, stand not to consult, but expose thyself. 91. Man shortens his life by his own errors. THE MORALS AND WISDOM OF EPICURUS, A GRECIAN PHILOSOPHER. 1. It is a very hard and difficult thing for a man who, by his actions, violates and injures human society, to pass his days quietly and easily ; for, though he may impose upon men, he must needs know that this cannot last always. A surprise, a dream, a fit of sickness, shall untie a man's tongue, and make him discover the sins he has so industriously concealed. In fine, he that trans- gresses and commits a crime, is never at quiet, but always restless and uneasy, and in perpetual expectation of the punishment he has deserved. 2. The wise man may be injured sometimes through hatred, envy, or contempt, without disturbing the calm and tranquillity of his mind ; because, in all these trials, he is supported by the strength of reason. 3. The acquisition of wisdom is so solid a good in itself, that it can never be lost. 4. The wise man profanes the excellency of his pro- fession when he abandons truth, and entertains any thing that borders upon the fable ; for, as philosophy is nothing else than a due inquiry after truth, fiction proves an ob- stacle to the success we ought to be blest with from the knowledge of it. 5. The wise man takes care to preserve the inexplicable blessing of an undisturbed and quiet mind, even amidst the groans and complaints that excess of pain extorts from him. 6. The wise man alone is qualified for a perfect friend- ship ; for the presence of his friends does not augment it, and their absence does not in the least impair it : he knows how to preserve it even after their death. 32 THE MORALIST. 7. Nature does not endow us with a consummate mag- nanimity ; that is acquirable only by the strength of reason. 8. Friendship ought to be contracted for the utility we expect therefrom ; as we cultivate the earth, that we may reap the benefit of its fertility. This noble habit is fo- mented and upheld by the natural good offices of the par- ties, and the satisfaction they take in each other. 9. It is neither prudent to compose nor to read poetic fictions. 10. We should rejoice with him who, having gone astray, shall return to the path of virtue. 11. It is impossible to pass our life delightfully without prudence, honesty, humanity, and justice. He who prac- tises these excellent virtues, cannot but live pleasantly ; insomuch, that the man who is so wretched as to be neither honest, prudent, humane, nor just, is deprived of all that might otherwise make his life happy. 12. No pleasure is an evil in itself ; that is only to be esteemed such which is followed by a greater mortifica- tion and uneasiness than to which the satisfaction of its enjoyment amounted. If it could sum itself up entirely, and if it included in its duration the most consummate delight, it would be always without disquiet ; and this union of all that is charming would be as complete as any thing nature does in the most accomplished of its works : then there would be no difference in pleasures, and they might be partaken of without distinction or choice. 13. The quiet and safety that are found in solitude and retirement from the world, may be equally enjoyed by U3, though in it, provided that we keep strictly to the medium of temperance, and confine our desires to what nature exacts for its preservation, which is common and easily to be procured. In effect, whatever she counts most de- licious and exquisite is common and limited ; but, if we listen to the wanton appetites opinion creates, when it is deceived by false appearances, our luxury shall be insa- tiable, and nothing shall be able to satisfy it. London : Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street . Wi>t Jttoralfet No. 3, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON DRUNKENNESS. ( Con tin ned.) Having considered all the ills which drunkenness occasions, it may be useful to trace the passion which leads to it. We find it to exist alike in old and young, rich and poor, male and female, and we do not find the propen- sity in any other animal ; consequently, it cannot be considered a natural or a regular animal passion ; but one unnatural and irregular. Some few nations have been discovered, the people of which were strangers to intoxicating liquors; but these have eagerly swal- lowed the cheering though baneful draught, both as soou as they have had it presented to them, and after they have experienced its effects; therefore, we may con- clude, that most other animals would resort to it under the same conditions, and that the habit pro- duced by example is the main cause of the extensive evil. The evidence existing, nothing but a full know- ledge of the purposes and qualifications of the human body is equal to its eradication, or a strong sense of the advantages of abstinence from such liquors, as are evidently too powerful for the well-being of the body, when taken in large quantities, and as unneces- sary? to its welfare in any quantity, unless prescribed as a medicine. A habit, a propensity generated by example and practice, in every sensepernicious, is, then, the only cause of the extensive use of intoxicating liquors — The extent of the quantity consumed may be calcu- lated by the thousands of persons who are profitably occupied in brewing, distilling, and vending it. The London: Printed and Published byR. Cablile, 84, Fleet-street. 34 THE MORALIST. quantity of liquor to be sold lo support one family, may be calculated to be.equal to the pauperizing and demoralizing of one hundred, where labour is the onlv commodity to be -given in exchange; and every liquor shop of the kind may be taken as a sign of the people's poverty and immorality ; and poverty alone occasioned by immorality. Pythagoras truly described the passion'for drunkenness, as the ruin of the health, the poison of the mind, and the apprentice- ship of madness. And Jesus, the son of Siracb.says : a labouring man that is given to drunkenness shall not be rich. One great cause of the passion is, that the progress towards each state of drunkenness is exhilarating. The first draught is desirable, the second gratifying, and seems to the drunkard to be called for by the languidness which the last fit has left upon his body; for be is ever athirst for that which produces alike his drunkenness and his languor; and the languor is al- ways produced in the proportion of the incitement ttsed to expel it. This places the passion in the rank of a delusion, of a mistaken means, that produces the opposite of the end desired: and this, once under- stood, should dissuade the injured drunkard from all use of these liquors ; for, so long as he continues lo take a single draught, he will feel a perpetual crav- ing and hankering for another and another, until sen- sation is gone. The habit which is the result of example, of fashion, is the great inducement to this abuse of the body. It "is a matter where no ingenuity, no mental labour, no exercise is required to make one man excel another ; and yet drunkards are known to boast of capability to drink and bear the greater quantity. They strive with each other for the debasement of their persons, and for the horrible distinction of which shall be the Lst to grow insensible ! This dire perversion of emu- lation forms as. strong a passion with the habitual drunkard, as is to be found in the rising genius, and the youthful aspirant, in any of the laudable pur- suits" of morals, arts, or sciences. He makes a merit of temporary suicide, glories in the pains which each lit of drunkenness leaves, and rushes to a repetition of the abuse before the body has expelled Ihc dregs and fumes of the last debauch. Of all animals, the habitual drunkard is the most offensive, the least worthy of life. THE MORALIST. 35 There is a lesser sort of habit which attends the lesser degrees of drunkenness — that whatever the stomach is accustomed to receive it periodically craves. This, when an abuse, like the larger abuse, is only to be conquered by a sense of injury and a reso- lution to abstain. In proportion to its slightness, it may be more easily disposessed ; but all is insufficient, until we study the injury done and resolve to avoid it for the future. Hence it is recommended to the drunkard — tirst, to acquire a knowledge of the inju- ries which he inflicts upon his body ; second, the c\> pence, the great expellee, at which those injuries are purchased; third, the loss of reputation and credit which must attend the profligacy; and then, he will be far advanced in that resolution which is essential to his reformation of manners and conduct— a resolu- tion to abstain l'rom all use, at least from all abusive use of intoxicating liquors. Passion is either a disposition that arises from the quality of the composition of the body, or a part of the body; or the result of an opportunity to repeat au act; or of both. But the passion of drunkenness cannot be connected with the composition of, the body, for it is alike common with all kinds of composition ; therefore, it must be that which results from the op- portunity to repeat the act, and one species of cure would be to check the opportunity, to remove ti:e means of repeating the act. For instance, a man may vow not to enter a place where liquor is sold, not to have it brought into his house, or not to taste it when where it is. The latter would be the better vow of the three ; but far better would it be not to vow about the matter; and yet to be prudent enough not to abuse the use of it when it is offered. Connected with the passion may be placed the his- tory of drunkenness, wbich we find to be coeval with the history of mankind. In the oldest writings handed down to us, we find scenes of drunkenness described and reprobated. The first step in chemical knowledge seems to have been the preparation of a liquor that would intoxicate; and now, a chemical knowledge of its powers upon the body seems to be necessary to dissuade from its use. Those powers are evidently seen to dry up the healthy juices of the body, to corrupt the solids; generating pains of dl kinds. The knowledge of producing intoxicating liquor, is 36 THE MORALIST. so general, the facilities to produce so many, 'that no law could put a stop to it. Any effort would only be- come a system of persecution ; therefore, the most effec- tual way to lessen the abusive use of it, is to leave the production and the sale quite free, but instruct the people as to its bad consequences. Foreign reslraint ol any kind will generate the passion that shall render it nugatory j and persecution to death would nut prevent the production and sale of" such Hquors. In Turkey, where religion is made a power to check their use ; the object is defeated by the substitution of opium : and almost every people" have their peculiar kind of intoxicating drug or liquor. More spirituous liquors are now smuggled into this country, than would be imported, if the importation were free. The very idea of being able to get a smuggled article is an inducement to buy what would not otherwise exist. Tho writer has witnessed many instances of the kind, both as it regards himself and others ; and his corres- pondence has informed him, that so great was the quantity of spirits and other articles smuggled upon the coast of Yorkshire, in the winter of 1822-3, as to stagnate and injure the local trade of every kind. The smuggler takes nothing but cash in exchange ; whilst the lawful importer would have lo barter for the products and manufactures of the country, when he could not sell for cash. Our laws consign the de- tected smuggler to a goal ; our gaols are full of them ; whilst every feeling among the mass of the people proclaims the traffic to be as meritorious as it is dangerous ; and the very magistrates sympathize with the men whom they arc compelled to incarcerate. Were smuggling made a capital offence, its amount would not T be lessened; whilst the appetite for such liquor would be sharpened. It is a fair, though a dangerous traffic ; and opposed to nothing but a mis- taken view of correct law and morals. Give the ne- cessary taxation a more solid foundation, and you need fear nothing from the free and cheap use of spi- rituous liquors. Are the inhabitants of France and Holland more addicted to drunkenness, from I he cheapness of their liquors, than the people of this island, who run so many hazards to obtain them at comparatively high prices r Say, ye guardians of the public morals, whether experience will justify you in continuing this stimulus to national debasement this premium for druukenness, this source of immo- rality ? Those who have seen the nature of smuggling THE MORALIST. 37 with a moral and legislative eye, can see that it is a traffic generated wholly by the power created to restrain it ; for the power to restrain is, a power in anticipation of the thing to be restrained ; and w ithoul the former, the latter would not exist. There is another species of passion connected with drunkenness, which may be termed the passion of welcome, sociality, and "conviviality, in private and in public parties. In private or "domestic parties, there is a passion for making each guest welcome by pressing him to drink the greatest quantity of intoxicating liquor : then, there is a passion" for exhibiting, what is very improperly termed soci- ality, on the part of the guest, which abuses under the pretence of acknowledging a sense of the wel- come : whilst conviviality, so improperly termed, belongs alike to the host and his guest ; the one abusing his means of entertainment, the other his welcome, until both hiccup the blessings of social order, and, drink confusion to all innovators: that is, to all who would amend such manners by increasing the knowledge of the parties. This false sociality and conviviality is also common with public parties, in the mutual pledges of individuals, where the quan- tity of sense and decency decreases as the joviality increases. We reppeat,that the time certainly will arrive, when all public meetings will be convened for other purposes, and when home will be considered the proper place to refresh and feed, as well as to clean, to dress, or to ease the body. In its exposure to public view, the one is as unbecoming as theother ; due allowance being made for the exceptions of ne- cessity, and even for those of utility. There is a physical and a moral distinction in the necessities of mankind. Those of the physical class relate to the feeding, cleaning, dressing, and evacua- tions of the body ; and, as they relate solely to the ex- clusive interestaod pleasure of the individual, should be performed as private as convenience will admit. Those of the moral class relate wholly to general in- terests, and cannot be made too public ; such as the communication of knowledge upon all subjects, and the appointment of public officers. This, in brief, will be that whatever concerns us, but as individuals should be made as private as possible; and that which concerns us as menbers of society, as public as possi- ble. The principle of utility, whereupon every tbing should rest, warrants both conclusions. "Hence, 40 THE MORALIST. equally, the poor man's cottage and the rich man's mansion. Thus has he exhausted his views of the evils of drunkenness, and seuds them forth with an ardent hope, that some who read will take advice and abstain from such abuses of the body, such deteriorations of the mind. A recapitulation of these evils may be thus ranked : Drunkenness, a passion generated by bad ex- ample, or bad practice, or both ; consisting in the abuse of the body, by pouring upon the stomach a quantity of burningliquid, ora sense-destroying drug; corrupting the wholesome juices of the body ; sapping the powers of sensation ; and hastening death by the accumulation of disease ; wasting time and the capability for useful pro- duction ; wasting the product of past industry ; wast- ing health and every pleasurable sensation; wasting reputation, and forbidding every mark of respect, filial, uxorial, paternal, maternal, fraternal, or friend- ly. Such, O Drunkard ! is the evil of drunkenness! Rouse Irom thy stupor — throw off thy madness — leave thy cups of poisonous liquid— live for thyself, for thy happiness, and for the happiness of all around thee, which thou art now destroying. THE MORALS AND WISDOM OF EPICCRCS, A GRECIAN PHILOSOPHER. {Continued.) 14. The just among mankind are they who live most free from trouble and disorder; whereas, the unjust, on the contrary, are always disturbed and perplexed. 15. If it were possible for man to live for ever, the pleasure he would receive therefrom would not be greater than what he might experience during the limited space of his life, if he could sufficiently refine his reason to know the true scope and end thereof. 16. Nature has prescribed bounds to the pleasures of the body ; we lose all the sweetness thereof when we wish it were everlasting; but the mind reforms this error, and reasons with exactness on the scope and end the pleasure of the body ought to have, as well as concerning what is to cause its last dissolution. It THE MORALIST. 41 shews us that the desire of an unlimited pleasure is ridiculous, and, by so doing, renders our life perfectly happy; inasmuch, that man, being satisiied with the manner of living, has no need for its felicity, of infi- nity of time: nay, he is not deprived of pleasure, though he perceives that his mortal condition leads him insensibly to the grave, since he there finds what happily finishes his course. 17. He who has discovered after what manner Na- ture has limited all things relating to life, must needs know the means to get rid of that uneasiness the body feels when it wants any thing, and must have found out the happy secret of rightly ordering the whole course of his life, so that he has no occasion to seek bis felicity in those things, the acquisition whereof is full of un- certainty and danger. 18. Of all the things Wisdom supplies us with for a happy life, there is none more considerable than that of a true friend. He that is strongly persuaded that there is nothing in life more solid than friendship, knows how to fortify his mind against the fear that is caused by the duration of pain. 19. Common right is nothing else than that utility which has been acknowledged, by universal consent, to be the cause of that justice men have observed one towards another. It is by the help thereof that, with- out offending others, or being offended themselves, they lived free from insult; because in all their desires they had Nature for their guide. 20. We are neither just nor unjust to brutes, whose fierce nature will not suffer them to abide with man without attacking him, and consequently without being attacked by him : the case is the same with those per- sons or nations, with whom we cannot settle such an alliance as is requisite for a mutual safety. 21. Justice is nothing in itself: mankind, united in society, discovered the utility and advantage of agree- ing among themselves, to observe certain conditioBS for their living inoffensively one towards another. 22. It is impossible that he who has violated, though ever so privately, the laws established topreveuteither our doing or receiving hurt, should be sure bis crime will not come to light; for, although he has not been detected in a thousand occasions, he may with reason fear he shall be so before he dies. 22 Whatever experience teaches us to be useful and 42 THE MORALIST. beneficial in reference to the community, ought to be esteemed just, provided it be so contrived thai every one may iind an advantage in it. THE MORALS OF SOCRATES, A GRECIAN PHILOSOPHER. 1. Let your carriage and behaviour to your parents be such as you would wish your children should be towards you. Respect yourself, but honour your parents. 2. Exercise your body notto improve your strength, but so far forth as tends to the advancement of your health. You may propose to come up to this, if you moderate your labour so that you still are capable of doing more. 3. Neither applaud an impertinent laughter, nor close in with a rash discourse; for the one is folly, and the other madness. 4. Never think that that can be spoken with de- cency v hich modesty is ashamed to act. Do not affect a demure or severe look, but always have a presence of mind : for by the one you will appear self- conceited, by the other always wise. 5. Esteem that most to become you which is decent, modest, just, and temperate ; for in these chielly con- sists the morality of youth. Never consent to" do a shameful act by the hopes you may eonceive that it may never be known; for, though you conceal it. from others, you will still be conscious of it to yourself. 6. Pursue those pleasures only that are accompa- nied with honour and glory; for that pleasure which has virtue for its companion is a valuable good,— whereas, without it, it is a detestable evil. 7. Be carefnl to avoid the occasions of being aspersed in your reputation, though you know they are lies you are charged with ; for, as a great many will be ignorant of the truth as to fact, so tbey will be liable to be imposed upon by rumour and report. 8. In all you do, imagine every body will know it; for, admit you could keep it a mystery for a while, it will be at last unfolded and made public. THE MORALIST. 4'3 y. Yon will gain a confirmed reputation, if you are known to avoid those actions you censure and blame in others. 10. If you are a lover of learning, you will acquire grout knowledge. 11. Those things of which you have attained the knowledge, must be retained by practice, and at the same time you must take care to inform yourself of those things of which you are ignorant. 12. It would be as great a shame not to learn a use- ful discourse, as not to receive a good present which your friends should make you. 13. Spend your leisure hours in hearing good dis- courses: by s"o doing, you will learn, with ease and facility, what has cost others a great deal of labour and pains to find out. 14. Set a greater value on the having received many instructive aud useful lessons, than on the possessing great store of wealth : for the one is a fleeting, perish- able, and transitory good ; the other is durable, — nay, everlasting. Among all the things this world affords us, the possession and enjoyment of wisdom are alone immortal- 15. Do not think it much to take a long journey, to hear those who make profession to teach useful and profitable things: for it would be a shameful and foul rejection, that merchants could undertake such tedi- ous voyages by sea, for the lucre only of increasing their wealth, and that youth should repine at a little land-journey to refine their notions and cultivate their minds, t6. As to your behaviour, be affable and easy of ac- cess, and let your language be courteous and civil: the one requires vou should take notice ot those you meet, the other, that you should speak obligingly to them. But be sure to carry it handsomely to all iu general, though you converse familiarly, but with the best; by which procedure you will disoblige nobody, and be "eerlain of the esteem and friendship of men ol merit. 17. Let not your visits be too frequent to the same persons, nor your discourse too long on the same sub- jects ; for there is a satiety of all things. 18. Enure yourself to voluntary labour, that you 44 THE MORALIST. may be the better able to undergo what necessity shall lay upon you. 19. Take special care to govern and suppress what- ever can be the least blemish to a handsome mind 5 — as sordid gain, anger, voluptuousness, and grief. — You will compass this, if you esteem that the greatest gain which procures you a good reputation, rather than that which augments your wealth: you will con- quer anger, if you behave yourself towards offenders as you would have others behave themselves to you when you transgress ! and you will bid fair to get the better of pleasure, if you frequently reflect how shame- ful it is to have the command over your servants, and at the same time be a slave to your passions ; and you will master affliction, if you seriously look into other men's misfortunes, and at the same time consider that the condition of man renders you liable to the same. 20. Never contract a friendship with any body till you have first examined how he behaved himself to his former friends ; for you will have good reason to hope that he will be the same to you as he was to them. Take sufficient time belore you profess yourself a friend; but, that once done, endeavour to be always such: for it is equally shameful to have no friends at all, and to change them often. 11. Do not try your friends to your prejudice, and yet at the same time take care to know their disposi- tion towards you. You will easily do this if you put on necessity when you really do "not want, and com- municate things to them as secrets that in fact are not so j by which means you will be sure to receive no damage from their infidelity, if they are false; and, if they are faithful, you will thereby discover their integrity. 22: You may make a trial of your friends in the mis- fortunes that attend life, and by tberr sharing in your dangers; for, as we try gold by the lire, so we dis- tinguish our friends by adversity. 23. You will discharge yourself best of your duty to your friends, if you do no't wait till they apply to you, but freely, and of your own accord, relieve and assist them when occasion requires. 24. Think it as dishonourable to be outdone by your friends in good offices, as to be overcome and worsted by the malice and evil practices of your enemies. THE MORALIST. 45 •2.5. Do not reckon them only to be your friends who grieve at your misfortunes, but likewise thosejwho do not envy your prosperity ; for a great many will ex- press concern when their friends are afflicted, who shall look with an invidious eye on the liberalities of, an indulgent fortune. 26. Speak kindly of your absent friends to those that are present, that they may not think you are unmindful of themselves when they are absent. 27. Be decent in your apparel, but not foppish. Now, he that keeps up to decency may be splendid in bis apparel ; whereas, the fop shall be extravagant and whimsical. 28. Do not covet a superfluity of riches, but the en- joyment of a competency. Entertain a mean opinion of those who are continually heaping up wealth, and yet know not how to make use of what they have ; for it fares with these men just as it does with those that possess a tine horse, without having the skill to ride him. 29 Endeavour to acquire wealth, that it may be useful to you, as well as possessed by you. Now, it is useful to those who relish the friction thereof; whereas, it is barely a possession to those who know not how to rpake a right use of it. 30. Set a due value on the riehes ypu are master of, for two reasons : the one, that you may be able to pay a large tiue if it be requisite ; the other, that you may have wherewith to relieve a friend in distress. As for the other regards of life, love them with modera- tion, and not excess. 31. Be contented with what you have, and seek at the same time to make the best improvement of it you can. 32. Never upbraid any one with his misfortunes, for fortune is common to all, and nobody can see into futurity. 33. Do all the good you C*U to virtuous and good men; for a good oflice done to a man of worth and merit is a noble treasure. 34. If you oblige unworthy men, you will be requited as they are who feed other people's" dogs ; and, as these bark as well at those that feed them as at strangers, so those are apt to injure as well their benefactors as 46 THE MORALIST. their enemies. Be as much averse to flatterers as to sycophants and impostors; for both the one and the other are equally pernicious if believed. 35. If you admit for friends those that gratify and encourage your wickedness, you will dishearten any one from incurring your displeasure on the score of virtue. 36. Lei your behayiour towards them that approach you be familiar and obliging, and not stiff: they are very different personages ; tor the haughty carriage of the one can hardly be borne with even by their own domestics, while the other's engaging way is pleasing to every body. Now, you will show yourself courteous, and win the good-will of every one, if you are not captious, quarrelsome, and hard to be pleased by those you converse with : in order to which, you must not oppose too roughly those whom passion and soger shall hurry away, though at the same time they are altogether" in the wrong ; but, on the contrary, give way to their transports, and when they are calm take an opportunity to remind them of their error. Never put on a serious and grave countenance when the jest is going round, nor affect levily and airiness where gravity is required ; for, whatever is ill-timed and un- seasonable is vexatious. Above all things, take care not to do a good ollice after an ungraceful manner, as a great many do, who, at the same time that they serve their friends, do it disagreeably and disgustful I \ . Avoid wrangling, because it is odious: and shun ceu- soriousness, because it is provoking. 37. Have a special care how you associate with men of the bottle; but be sure, if occasion makes you fall into such company, to withdraw before the liquor gets the better of you, for he whose mind is overpowered with wine, is like the chariot who»e driver is cast out of the box ; this going at random for want of the hand to guide it, and the other running all manner of risks and dangers for want of thought. 38. Make aright estimate of the advantage education has over ignorance. They who are possessed of the one, turn all to their advantage, while the others are generally mortified and afflicted, it frequently happen- ing that they suffer, in fact, for what they have indis- creetly uttered. 39. Speak well of those you desire to make your THE MORALIST. 47 friends before those whom yoa are sure will tell it to them again ; for commendation is the beginning of friendship, whereas slander and backbiting are the source of hatred and enmity. 40. In point of counsel and deliberation, take exam- ples of the past for the future; for what is dark and mysterious becomes plain and easy by what has already liappened. 41. Take time to deliberate and advise, but lose no time in executing your resolutions. The success of our undertakings depends on circumstances; but it is our business to consider what we do. 42. Those things you are ashamed to speak of with reference to yourself, and at the same time would be glad to advise with friends about, relate them as if they concerned others, and not you ; by which means you will know the sentiments of those you consult without discovering yourself. 43. When you have a mind to advise wit!) anyone concerning your private affairs, examine well first how he has managed his own : for he that has been faulty in the administration of his own concerns will never be able to advise well with reference to those of others. You will be most excited to consult and advise, if you seriously look into the miscarriages of temerity and rashness; for we then take the greatest care of our health, when the pains and tortures of our infirmities are fresh in our memory. 44. Do not make it your business to acquire vast riches in public employments; but take care* to dis- cbarge them with so much integrity, that, when yoa leave them, you may do it with honour and reputa- tion : for the esteem and favour of the public are much more valuable than wealth. 43. Neither be present at any evil action, nor pro- tect any that shall be guilty thereof; tor you will be thought yourself to act what you defend and patronise in others. 46.. Procure to yourself as much power and interest as you can, and at the same time be contented to live upon the level with others, that you may appeal' to love and practise justice, not through wunt of power, but for the sake of decency and equity. 47, Prefer a just and honourable poverty to ill-got- 48 THE MORALIST. ten riches; for probity and justice are by so much preferable to wealth, that this is only of use to us while we live, while those do us honour even after our death ; besides, the wicked may participate of that, while none but the virtuous can partake of these. 48. Do not rival those who thrive through wicked, ne6S, but rather approve and imitate them that sufr fer for the sake of justice; for the just have this ad- vantage, at least, over the wicked, if no other,— that they exceed them in good hopes and expectancy. 49. Have a necessary regard to all that relates to the support of life, but cultivate your mind as much as you can, for a handsome mind is anoblething, though shut up in a human body. 50 Enure your body to labour; and your mind to wisdom,— that by the one you may be able to execute your resolutions, and by the other determine what you ought to do for your advantage and interest. 51. Consider seriously with yourself to whomsoever you are to speak, for it is the fault of a great many to let their tongue out-run their thoughts. 52. Imprint this maxim deeply in ypur mind,— that there is nothing certain in this human and mortal staje ; by which means you will shun being tran- sported with prosperity, and being dejected in adver- sity. 53. There are two seasonable times to speak, either on tboee subjects you know perfectly well, or on those that necessity puts upon you; now, it is in the latter that it is better to speak than be silent; in the other, it is better to be silent than talk. 54. Use your utmost endeavour to live securely; but, if you are at any time obliged to hazard your person, then seek no other safety during the war lhan what is consistent with honour and glory, and not that which is attended with shame and infamy: for destiny had decreed that all men should die, but to die well is the particular privilege of the virtuous and good. London : Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street. Witt ffilQvnli&t No. 4, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON THEFT. Theft is the act of taking the property of another, against his consent, and without an exchange of value : wherever such an act can be traced, whether in a cor- porate body, in a public officer, or in a private in- dividual, the act is the crime of theft. Though it may be against the consent of the individual, where bis property is taken in the shape of tax, by a body corporate ; still, there is an implied understanding, that the individual obtains a value equivalent in good and necessary government. If he really does not re- ceive such a value in return— if more be taken from him than useful government warrants — he is robbed, and the act on the part of the body corporate, or pub- lic officer, is the crime of theft ; or when done in an open manner, as in such cases, it is also termed an open or public robbery. Property consists in the possession of a quautity of such commodities as are either useful or pleasing to the possessor, and such as are acquired by the profit of labour, by bequest, or by the tinding of that for which there is no owner to be found. The property of the rich man, who does not labour, consists in the possession of such goods as are sufficient for his sup- port, and which have either been acquired by his own industry, or by that of friends who have bequeathed it to him. The property of a poor man, who has no store of goods, consists in his labour, in bis capacity to produce those goods. London : Printed and Published by R. Caiilile, 84, Fleet-street. 50 THE MORALIST. The principle of theft is so well understood by all persons of mature years, the practice is every where so prevalent, that, the object of this essay will be to combat it by expatiating upon the consequences ac- cruing to the detected thief. In London, and in other populous towns in this country, the practice of thiev- ing is an avowed profession i There are haunts where youth are trained to expertncss and cunning in the practice of this profession, and led forth in their first experiments by experienced hands! In detection, they do not feel shame; but calculate arithmetically the amount of gain against the amount of p^in to be suffered. The present mode of managing our gaols, instead of reforming the character of these thieves, aggravates the evil; for they are mingled, and gene- rally without employment, talking over their exploits to eaoh other, just as is done among old soldiers and Sailors; until the habit of theft bscomes quite a pas- sion. An amount of imprisonment is exchanged for an amount of theft ; and, instead of justice to either party, all is additional expence, evil, and deteriora- tion of character. In the shape of punishment, no re- formation of character will ever take place; but in making the injury done, and expence incurred, a debt to the thief, which he must reduce by his labour, and fee confined just so long as he is reducing that debt. Here would be a double, a more than double gain ; no loss would eventually accrue to any one but the thief; ■whilst his every hour of labour would convince him of the folly of thieving for support, when he might have obtained it so much more easily, so much more ho- nourably, by fair industry. No uther law can be de- vised to make the amount of punishment an equiva- lent for the amouut of offence in all cases. As pro- perty is the object to be preserved, what can be justice to the person robbed, but the restoration of his whole amount of loss ? and who but the thief should be made THE MORALIST. 51 to restore ? Whilst the thief remains confined, every effort should be made to communicate knowledge to him ; and that too, at his own expenec : for an acqui- sition of knowledge will aid in unfolding to him, not only the crime, but the absolute folly and loss on his own part, by the act of thieving. Look to this, ye statesmen, ye legislators, if improvement and re- formation of character be your object, in cases of im- prisonment and punishmeut. It is absolutely necessary to teach the thief, that the habit of thieving can never be a profitable pursuit. As matters stand at present, it is about an equal chance that he may make it profitable: and a still greater aggravation of the evil is, that the person robbed must pay a great sum of money to punish the robber, without a prospect of any kind of personal redress in the injury he has sustained; so that the dread of prosecuting, when robbed, is greater than the dread of robbery, or the pain of being robbed. All this evil may be removed by making the thief a debtor for the whole amount of injury, and by giving him no prospect of release from imprisonment until he has reduced the debt by his labour. Let all injury be redressed by the parish or county rates, and let the thief be debtor to the parish or county, both for prin- cipal and interest. If he died in confinement, the loss will then properly fall on the rate; but on the other hand, if he did work out his debt, he would be sure to return into society as a reformed character. Here also, no farther restraint under confinement would be required than good order and safe custody may re- quire. The punishment for theft, here recommended, is precisely, in principle, the same as that laid down in the Jewish Law. The lowest scale of punishment for debt was to restore double; and this, if the thief was detected with the thing stolen in his hand. In other 52 THE MORALIST. cases, four, live, or more fold, were required ; but here, lucre was no expence for proseculion ; all legal process was oral, without indictment, without attor- nies, without barristers,— the injured party was the accuser, the old men the judges, the gate of the city, or some public space, the seat of justice, and every case was heard as soon as the often der was detected : an excellent mode of judicature. Here, as there was no expence for law and justice, it was necessary to make the thief a debtor to the amount of two, three, four, or live fold the value of the thing stolen, as an adequate punishment; but in this country, as there is a great expence with attornics, special pleaders, bar- risters, fees of court, &c, it is in all cases punishment enough, to make the thief a debtor for all loss and expence incurred. The simplicity and fairness of this mode of punishment is manifest, and the effect on the offender would certainly be greater in the way of re- formation, than anything now practised. There is evident failure to reform in the present mode of pu- nishment — torture and degradation have been too long tried, and found to aggravate the evil disposition, to increase the amount of theft — therefore, morality makes it a paramount duty with the legislature, to alter the mode of atonement. To the thief, it may be said: consider, before you steal, the consequences which you may bring upon yourself: consider the dread, the horror, of an igno- minious death at the gallows; consider the horrors of a transportation, which puts you in a worse condi- tion, in a more degraded state, than the negro-slave: consider the horrors and even the dangers of a gaol, where you must not only be subject to unwholesome confinement, to a short allowance of coarse and ofien bad food, and to the treatment of a slave; but where you are always in danger of pes! ilential contagion, and certain of the company of the most depraved cha- THE MORALIST. 53 racters. Think, before you steal, whether you can- not support yourself by fair industry, and attain to the necessaries and some of the comforts of life. Re- flect on the excruciating torture, the worse pain than the pain of death, which a gaol whipping may bring upon your body. Think of the misery of being locked up in a close cell for fifteen out of every twenty-four- hours of a winter's day, damp, cold, and compara- tively naked. Think of the perpetual torture of fet- ters on your limbs, and the continual clanking of chains in your ears j that not only gall your legs, but send a thrill of horror through every nerve, as often as you move or look upon them. Think of the pain which you must feel, if your friends even be allowed to see you, when you are looked upon with a gaol dress, a cropped head, an ugly and coarse leather skull cap, and with chains on your legs. If you have no feelings upon these matters, O ! think upon what must be the feelings of your parents, your wife, your children, your brothers and sisters, your relatives, your friends, who may be all honest, and yet degraded and wounded by a connection with you. If you would but think fully and fairly upon these matters, you would never be a thief; you would not steal, but work for a livelihood. Consider, that, the person whom you rob, might have toiled hard, by night and day, for that of which you deprive him, and that if you were but of the same disposition, you could gain more by your honest labour, than by your dishonest prac- tices, even if you escape the punishment which the law awards. As a thief, your rest is always broken, and after you have stolen, you do not enjoy the pro- perty: you are in constant fear of detection; you can never enjoy one happy moment. You do not know what is happiness — you have no content— you are not respected. The very partners of your guilt proclaim you to be a villain j and whilst they confederate, are 54 THE MORALIST. always ready to condemn you, to save themselves. You arc not even safe with them ; a reward, which is generally offered, will lead them to expose you. Consider and sre the advantages of honesty : be in- dustrious and thoushalt prosper— be honest and thou shalt be happy. There can be but one object to be gained by thiev- ing, and that is a means of sustenance, or an acquisi- tion of property without the usual mode of labouring for it: the property so gained can never place the possessor upon a respectable footing in society ; and it is commonly the case, that it is as wantonly spent as obtained; to the certain injnry of the party robbed, and without advantage to the robber. It also hap- pens, that these robberies occasion a great destruc- tion of property ; sometimes from the fear of detec- tion, and at others from sheer wantonness. A pro- perty, that an honest man might hare been toiling throughout the period of his manhood to accumulate, may be destroyed in a few hours, or may be taken from him at one sweep : but consider, O thief! whatapang you inflict upon that man, without affording yourself a single pleasurable sensation ! There is no way of making a respectable appear- ance, of bearing a good character, or of being truly happy through life, to the poor and labouring man, but in honest industry, in pursuing every object by honest means. If one day, or for a year, you are better fed and clad, by dishonest means, you are sure to feel a dreadful reverse in detection ; and one re- verse of this kind makes you a vagabond— never after, can you consider yourself a member of the so- ciety and look up as such ; unless you exhibit the most sincere repentance, and give proofs of sound re- formation. Experience every where shews that the honest man is the happy man— honourable in every transaction, THE MORALIST. 55 always the same man in every period and pursuit of life, he passes on serenely amidst the approbation of his neighbours, and with what is above all price, a self- approving conscience. The thief lurks and reads his own character in the frown of every passer-by who knows him: the whole course of bis life is a series of internal and external criminal accusation. Could a fore-knowledge of the evils, the pains, which you have to suffer, be impressed upon you, O thief ! you would shrink from your dishonourable and dan- gerous career: could you but feel before-hand, a por- tion of your future sufferings; could you but feel a tytheof the pangs which you inflict upon your family and friends, you would stand aghast before you lard your hands upon property not your own. Say to yourself— what can I gain by stealing more than by labour? Why should another person toil forme? If property be as sacred as life, why do I live to steal ? Is not ray neighbour's property of more worth than such a life as mine? Put such questions to thyself, and reformation will be near. Let the youth who may read this tract, consider weH the superior advantages of honesty, and resolve to be honest. Let the older reader take to thesame resolution. Let all reflect that idleness is in itself scandalous; but when encouraged by theft it becomes criminally vici- ous. Instances have been known, where people of wealth have been addicted to theft, as an unaccounta- ble propensity, and where their fingers were laid on every article that came conveniently in their' way. Such a propensity can only be attributed to a depraved understanding; an avariciousness that overcomes every other passion ; and merits the same course of punish- ment as is recommended in the case of the poorer thief. Instancesof the good effects of honesty and industry exhibit themselves every where ; and instances of the 56 THE MORALIST. bad effects of idleness and dishonesty are as common Living examples are at all times the best references, and to such every reader is referred. He is advised to study mankind, as he finds them in life; and not as he finds them represented in books— let him examine, compare, reflect, and ponder deeply — be will find that the bad man accumulates nolhingbut pain by his idle- ness and vices ; that the good man is alone the happy man; and that in all cases, at all times, and with all persons, honesty is the best policy. MORALS AND WISE MAXIMS SELECTED FROM THE APO- CRYPHAL BOOKS OF THE BIBLE. FROM THE WISDOM OF SOLOMON. 1. Love righteousness, ye that be judges. 2. Into a malicious person wisdom shall not enter ; nor dwell in the body that is subject to sin. 3. Beware of the murmuring - which is unprofitable; and refrain your tongue from backbiting ; for there is no word so secret, that shall go for nought : and the mouth of the liar is a source of destruction. 4. Seek not death in the errors of jour life; nor pull destruction upon yourselves as the work of your own hands. 5. Honourable age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor that which is measured by the num- ber of years : but wisdom is the grey hair unto men, and an unspotted life is old age. 6. Wisdom is glorious, and never fadeth away; yea, she is easily seen of them that love her, and found of such as seek her. She preventeth them that desire her in making herself first known unto tbem. Whoso seeketh her early shall have no great travail ; for he shall find her sitting at his doors. To think therefore upon her; and whoso watcheth for her shall quickly THE MORALIST. 57 be without care. For she goeth about seeking such as are worthy of her, sbeweth herself favourably unto them in the ways, and meeteth them in every thought. For the very true beginning of her is the desire of discipline; and the care of discipline is love: and love is the keeping of her laws ; and the giving heed unto her laws is the assurance of incorruption. 7. Wisdom reacheth from one end to another mightily: and sweetly doth she order all things. I loved her, and sought her out from my youth ; I de- sired to make her my spouse, and I was a lover of her beauty. If riches be a possession to be desired in this life; what is richer than wisdom, that worketh all things? And if prudence work; who of all that are is a more cunning workman than she ? And if a man love righteousness, her labours are virtuous ; for she teacheth temperance and prudence, justice and fortitude ; which are such things, as men can have no- thing more profitable in their life. If a man desire much experience, she kuoweth things of old, and con- jeclureth aright what is to come ; she knoweth the subtleties of speeches, and can expound dark sen- tences : she foreseeth signs and wonders, and the eveuts of seasons and times. Therefore, I purposed to take her to me to live with me, knowing that she would be a counsellor of good things, and a comfort in cares and grief. For her sake I shall have estima- tion among the multitude, and honour with the* elders, though I be young. I shall be found of a quick con- ceit in judgment, and shall be admired in the sight of great men. When I hold my tongue, tbey shall bridle my leisure, and when I speak, they shall give good ear unto me: if I talk much, they shall lay their hands upon their mouth. Moreover, by the meaus of her I shall obtain immortality, and leave behind me an ever- lasting memorial to them that come after me. I shall set the people in order, and the nations shall be sub- 58 THE MORALIST. ject unto me. Horrible tyrants shall be afraid, when they do but hear of me ; I shall be found good among the multitude, and valiant in war. After I am come into mine house, I will repose myself with her: for her conversation hath no bitterness ; and to live with her hath no sorrow, but mirth and joy. Now when I considered these things in myself, and pondered them in my heart, how that to be allied unto wisdom is im- mortality; and great pleasure it is to have her in friendship ; and in the works of her hands are infinite riches; and in the exercise of conference with her, prudence; and in talking with her, a good report; I went about seeking how to take her to me. 8. They who live dissolutely and unrighteously are tormented with their own abominations. For wicked- ness, condemned by her own witness, is very timorous ; and, being pressed with conscience, always forecasteth grievous things.— For fear is nothing else but a betray- ing of the succours which reason offerelh. FROM THE WISDOM OF JESCS, THE SON OF SIRACH> OK ECCLESIASTIC VS. 1. A furious man cannot be justified ; for the sway of his fury shall be his destruction. 2. A pitient man will bearfor a time, and afterwards joy shall spring up unto him. 3. Be not a hypocrite in the sight of men, and take good heed what thou speakest. 4. Set thy heart aright, and constantly endure, and make not haste in time of trouble. 5. Honour thy father and mother both in word and deed, that a blessing may come upon thee from them. Glory not in the dishonour of thy father ; for thy fa- ther's dishonour is no glory unto thee. For the glory THE MORALIST. 59 of a man is from the honour of his father; and a mo- ther in dishonour is a reproach to the children. My son, help thy father in his age, and grieve him not as long as he liveth. And if his understanding fail, have patience with him ; and despise him not when thou art in thy full strength. For the relieving of thy fa- ther shall not be forgotten: and instead of sins, it shall be added to build thee up. In the day of thine affliction it shall be remembered; thy sins also shall melt away as the ice in the fair warm weather. 6. My son, go on with thy business in meekness; so shalt thou be beloved of him that is approved. For many arc deceived by their own vain opinion, and an evil suspicion hath overthrown their judgment. 7. Without eyes thou shalt want light: profess not the knowledge therefore that thou bast not. 8. He that requitelh good turns is mindful of that which may come hereafter; and when he falleth, he shall find a stay. 9. Defraud not the poor of his living, and make not the needy eyes to wait long. Make not an hungry soul sorrowful ; neither provoke a man in his distress. Add not more trouble to an heart that is vexed; and defer not to give to him that is in need. Reject not the supplication of the afflicted ; neither turn away tby face from a poor man. Let it not grieve thee to bow down thine car to the poor, and give him a friendly answer with meekness. 10. Deliver him that suffereth wrong from the hand of the oppressor ; and be thou not fainthearted when thou sittcst in judgment. Be as a father unto the fatherless, and instead of a husband unto their mo- ther. 11. Wisdom exalteth her children, and layeth hold of them that seek her.— He that loveth her loveth life : and they that seek to her early, shall be filled with joy. 60 THE MORALIST. 12. Refrain not to speak, when there is occasion to do good. For by speech wisdom shall be known ; and learning by the word of the tongue. — In nowise speak against the truth ; but be abashed of the error of thine ignorance. Strive for the truth unto death. 13. Be not hasty in thy tongue, nor in thy deeds slack and remiss. Be not as a lion in thy house, nor frantic among thy servants. 14. Let not thy hand be stretched out to receive, and shut when thou shouldest repay. 15. Set not thy heart upon goods unjustly gotten; for they shall not profit thee in the day of calamity. 16. Be stedfast in thy understanding ; and let thy word be the same. 17. Be swift to hear, and let thy life be sincere ; and with patience give answer. 18. Be not called a whisperer, and lie not in wait with thy tongue ; for a foul shame is upon the thief, and an evil condemnation upon the double tongue. 19. Sweetlanguage will multiply friends : and a fair speaking tongue will increase kind greetings. 20. Be in peace with many : nevertheless have but one counsellor of a thousand. If thou wouldest get a friend, prove him first, and be not hasty to credit him. For some man is a friend for his own occasion, and will not abide in the day of tby trouble. And there is a friend, who being turned to enmity and strife will dis- cover thy reproach. Again, some friend is a compa- nion at the table, and will not continue in the day of thy affliction. But in tby prosperity he will be as thy- self, and will be bold over thy servants. If thou be brought low, he will be against thee, and will hide him. self from thy face. Separate thyself from thine ene- mies, and take heed of thy friends. A faithful friend is a strong defence ; and he that hath found such an one, hath fuund a treasure. Nothing doth countervail THE MORALIST. 61 a faithful friend, and his excellency is invaluable : he is the medicine of life. 21. My son, gather instructions from thy youth up : so shalt thou tind wisdom till thine old age. Come unto her as one that ploweth and soweth, and wait for her good fruits ; for thou shalt not toil much in labouring about her ; but thou shalt eat of her fruils right soon. She is very unpleasant to the unlearned : he that is without understanding will not remain with her. She will lie upon him as a mighty stone of trial ; and he will cast her from him ere it bo long. For wis- dom is according to her name, and she is not manifest unto many. Give ear, my son, receive my advice, and refuse not my counsel. Put tby feet into her fetters, and thy neck into her chain. Bow down thy shoulder, and bear her, and be not grieved with her bonds. Come unto her with thy whole heart, and keep her ways with all thy power. Search, and seek, and she shall be made known unto thee : and when thou hast got hold of her, let her not go. For at the last thou shalt tind her rest, and that shall be turned to thy joy. Then shall her fetters be a strong defence for thee, and her chains a robe of glory ; for there is a golden or- nament upon her, and her bands are purple lace. Thou shalt put her on as a robe of honour, and shalt put her about thee as a crown of joy. My son, if thou wilt, thou shalt be taught : and if thou wilt apply thy mind, thou shalt be prudent. If thou love to hear, thou shalt receive understanding : and if thou bow thine car, thou shalt be wise. Stand in the multitude of the elders ; and cleave unto him that is wise. 22. If thou seest a man of understanding, get thee betimes unto him, and let thy foot wear the steps of his door. 23. Do no evil, so shall no harm come unto thee. •24. Depart from the unjust, and iniquity shall turn away from thee. 62 THE MORALIST. 26. Devise not a lie against thy brother, neither do the like to thy friend. Use not to make any manner of lie : for the custom thereof is not good. 26. Forego not a wise and good woman : for her grace is above gold. Hast thou a wife after thy mind ? forsake her not, but give not thyself over to a light woman. 27. Whereas thy servant worketh truly, entreat him not evil, nor the hireling that bestoweth himself wholly for thee. Let thy soul love a good servant, and defraud him not of liberty. 28. Honour thy father with thy whole heart, and forget not the sorrows of thy mother. 29. Whatsoever thou takest in hand, remember the end, and thou shalt never do amiss. 30. A wise judge will instruct his people; and the government of a prudent man is well ordered. As the judge of the people is himself, so are his officers ; and what manner of man the ruler of the city is, such are all they that dwell therein. 31. Bear not hatred to thy neighbour for every wrong; and do nothing at all by injurious practices. 32. Pride was not made for men, nor furious anger for them that are born of a woman. 33. Better is he that laboureth. and aboundeth in all things, than he that boasteth himself, and wanteth bread. 34. The poor man is honoured for his skill, and the rich man is honoured for his riches. — Wisdom liftcth up the head of him that is of low degree, and maketh him to sit among great men.— Commend not a man for his beauty ; neither abhor a man for his outward appearance.— The bee is little among such as fly ; but her fruit is the chief of sweet things. 35. Blame not before thou hast examined the truth : understand first, and then rebuke, Answer not before THE MORALIST. 63 thou hast heard the cause: neither ialerrupt men in the midst of their talk. 36. Strive not in a matter that eoncernelh thee not ; and sit not in judgment with sinners. 37. There is one that laboureth, and taketh pains, and maketh haste, and is so much the more behind. 38. There is that waxeth rich by his wariness and pinching, and this is the portion of his reward: — Whereas he sailh, I have found rest, and now will eat continually of my goods, and yet he knoweth not what time shall come upon him, and that he must leave those things to others, and die. 39. Say not, What profit is thereof ray service ?aod what good tilings shall I have hereafter? — Agaiu, say not, I have enough, and possess many things, and what evil can come to me hereafter? In the day of pros- erity there is a forgetfulness of affliction : aud in the day of affliction there is no remembrance of pros- perity. 40. When thou wilt do good, know to whom thou doest it j so shalt thou be thanked for thy benefits. 41. The heart of a man changeth his countenance, whether it be for good or evil: and a merry heart maketh a eheerf.il eountenance. 42. He that wanteth understanding will think upon vain things: and a foolish man erring imagineth fol- lies. 43. Admonish a friend, it may be he hath not done it : and if he have done it, thai he do it no more. — Ad- monish thy friend, it may be he hath not said it : and if he have, that he speak it not again. — Admonish a friend: for many times it is a slander, and believe not every tale. There is one that slippeth in his speech, but not from his heart; and who is he that hath not offended with his tongue? 44. A man may be known by his look, and one that hath understanding by his countenance, when thou 64 THE MORALIST. meetest him.— A man's altire, and excessive laughter, and gait, shew what he is. 45. There is a reproof that is not comely: again, some man holdeth his tongue, and he is wise. — It is much better to reprove, than to be angry secretly : and he that confesseth bis fault shall be preserved from hurt. How good is it, when thou art reproved, to shew repentance! for so shalt thou escape wilful sin. 46. Better is the poor, being sound and strong of constitution, than a rich man that is afflicted in his body.— Health and good state of body are above all gold, and a strong body above infinite wealth. There is no riches above a sound body, and no joy above the joy of the heart. Death is better than a bitter life or continual sickness. 4". Give not over thy mind to heaviness, and afflict not thyself in thine own counsel. The gladness of the heart Is the life of man, aud the joyfuluess of a man prolongcth his days. 48. Envy and wrath shorten the life, and carefulness bringeth age before the time. 49. Judge of thy neighbour by thyself, and be dis- creet in every point. so. A cheerful and good heart, will have a care of his meat and diet. A very little is sufficient for a man well nurtured, and he fetcheth not his wind shortupon his bed. Sound sleep corm-th of moderate ealing: he riseth early, and his wits are with him; but the pain of watching, and choler, and pangs oi the belly, are with an unsatiable man. 51. Shew not thy valiantness in wine; for wine hath destroyed many. 52. Let reason go before every enterprise, and coun- sel before every action. 53. A wise man instructeth his people; and the fruits of his understanding fail not. A wise man shall be filled with blessing; and all they that see him shall count him happy. 54. To labour, and to be content with that a man hath, is a sueet life. 55. A friend aud companion never meet amiss: but above both is a wife with her husband. 50. My s«>n, lead not a beggar's life ; for better is it to die than to beg. London: Printed and Published bvR. Cablile, 84, Fleet- street. m>t JMondfet. No. 5, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON LYING. Drunkenness and theft are, what may be termed physical vices ; as they relate to the abuse of sub- stance, or person and property -.—lying comes under the class of menial or moral vice, being an act of ver- bal deception, an abuse of the use of speech, or other means of communication ; but, in its effect, though it may not injure health, or waste property, it has the same tendency to degrade the character, as any kind of physical vice. It is a sort of auxiliary to all the other Vices, in procuring them concealment, and in furthering their ends. The person addicted to any vice will lie to conceal it. This vice is so common, exists in so many grades, is used to so many ends, that it may be doubted, whether a human being lives wholly free from it. Notwithstanding this general contagion, it is so pernicious in all, even the least of its grades, that, to abstain from it, forms a source of high satisfaction, honourable character, and meri- torious consideration. A person, once detected in lying, is always after a suspected character, where that detection is known, therefore, it becomes a fal- lacious notion to suppose, that falsehood can be ge- nerally beneficial. One detection in lying destroys the good effect of years of probity and good faith. It is like a disease brought upon the body from which it can have no hope ever to be free. It is a stigma upon character that cannot be wiped off; for, it is a sure and correct maxim, that, a liar is not to be be- lieved when he speaks the truth. If be even expresses sorrow for a detected lie, we cannot be sure, but that he is adding another to it. There is no way of im- parting conviction of lidelity, but in a resolution, never to say any thing that is not strictly true. Once detected in not'so dofng, all confidence is destroyed. Lying, is a vice in use for various bad purposes; but there is also a sort of lying that is used without London: Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 84, Fleet- street. 66 THE MORALIST. any other purpose than a love of lying, a love of de- ceit, a love of exciting curiosity and surprise in others upon false grounds, or without the necessary facts. This may be termed habitual lying, that flows at all times withoutany view to private gain, sell' interest, or concealment of vice. It is commonly thought a species of wit and cleverness, a meie trick, mere amusement, such asdeceptions on the particular day of the 1st of April, but it all teuds to degrade character. We live, or ought to live, in society, for mutual support and mutual instruction ; any act which thwarts these purposes is immoral, and every species of deception must be immoral, even if it be meant as a matter of amusement; for, that which deceives or misleads, wastes time and distracts the mind, without any procurement of good to the liar or deceiver. Mutual support and mu!ual in- struction require the strictest attention to truth and good faith, and the least deviation becomes not only a private but a public injury; for, where an acquisi- tion of know ledge is wilfully impeded, both a private ;ind a public injury is done. It is in the amount of knowledge that the character and the condition of a society are distinguished, and lying is a species of op- position to knowledge, impeding improvement in the ratio of its aggregate amount. It is in the amount of knowledge and truth-speaking, that the character of an individual is distinguished, and even a fear to speak what he or she thinks to be the truth, is a positive vice, a positive injury to self and public, in the end. Knowledge, which is but a convertible term for truth, as tar as it is known, is a growing power, and requires to be fed with ever, kind of stimulus or truth-speaking. No slate of society can be c -nceived more truly barbarous and ill-founded, than that where an opposition is offered to the progress of knowledge, or the speaking of truth as far as it is known. The improvement of society being distinguished by an increase of knowledge, with an improvement of the quality and an increase of the quantity of such goods as are required for diet, dress, dwelling, business, and pleasure; it follows, that whatever wastes time, to any- one individual, or turns his attention from the right channel and means of acquiring knowledge, is an act pernicious, not only to that individual, but probably to the present and all future generations— such an act is the act of lying. Let us take Ihe instance of anyone of the eminent of past ages, and suppose, that, at the THE MORALIST. 67 moment when he was tracing causes and effects, and bursting upon some most important discovery, some by-stander, some intruder, some protended friend, had stepped in with a surprising lie, that drew off the at- tention and distracted mind of* the philosopher; how clear, how strong is the probability, that such an act might have deprived mankind of the most important of disco cries? If the case be good in this one in- stance, it is good in oil, upon its comparative degrees. There is a species of professional lying in common use ; where the object of the seller is to deceive the buyer as to the quality, quantity, or value of an article, pressing for the highest possible price; or in a ser- vant's accounting for the expenditure of time and means to his employer, setting forth a coloured or untrue slatement; but this is also a vice; because, ihere is some fault to be hidden, some person to be deceived, some injury done or to be done ; and tuo consequence of detection here is the same as in all other cases of lying — a breach of faith, a dismissal of service, or no further dealing between the parties The instances are few, where an individual lias ac- quired wealth and distinction b}' this profligate mode of dealing ; whilst, on the contrary, you seldom sec a tradesman, or a servant of probity and good faith, but that he improves his condition with the extent of the knowledge of his true character. What are called pious frauds form another species of lying, which are evidently meant to deceive and injure one party, for the private benefit of another. That cannot be good to society which needs support from deception, as a general rule. Exceptions may occur ; but then, the deceiver should be certain of a good motive in himself; that is, good, in relation to the whole, or the majority, rather than individually or partially good. Looking at the matter in an en- larged sense, no bad example can eventually produce a moral good ; and it becomes a moit fallacious no- tion to suppose, that an ignorant people are to be kept moral, other than by good instructions sup- ported by good examples. Vice is a contagious disease in the body politic, and obtains countenance by its increase. \Ve shudder at the first sight of that Which frequent views lead us to mark with indiffer- ence, if not with complacency. Therefore, these frauds can have no alliance with morality ; for they certainly engender the habit of lying, and degrade alike the deceiver and tiie deceived. 68 THE MORALIST. Another species of lying may be termed— the lies of love. Passion urges the suitor to make the best possible representation of himself and circumstances — these often coloured beyond the truth. Nor is the female to be held free from this vice ; for she is often the suitor, and combines with all her charms, all the little frauds she can devise to entwine the desired object. But in all alliances of this kind, it would be well to consider that something more than the happi- ness of momentary gratilication is to be the effect: then it will be seen, that the amount of misrepresen-. tation wiil be followed by an equal amount of disap. pointment and unhappiness on each side, and that the wiser course is, to be honest towards each other, not to lie, not to raise expectations that must inevitably be dissatisfied. Love is certainly a capricious passion • but as ulterior happiness is the object of love, to be obtained, that passion must never lose sight of probity and good faith. The evil of lying is so evident, that it may be re- duced to an axiom and expressed in a sentence. It is an abuse of the use of speech, or writing, for purposes of deception, and is meant to conceal a vice, or to con- fer an injury. In all the relations of life, it is, xin- happily, too common, and is one of the main ingre- dients, that make up the compound of evil. "Whether it pervades a joke between individuals, or forms an in- gredient in a national treaty, it is alike a matter of ab- horrence. Deceit is injury ; and the power of speech, or the Hse of letters, becomes a curie, whenever used for deception, and the comeyance of falsehood in- tended to injure. Many writers have searched for the origin of evil — may it not be found in an abuse of the use of speech ? Is not the principle of lyiug the first principle of all moral evil ? Or can mora! evil be traced beyond hu- man deceit and robbery ? Deceit that deprives of pro- perty is a robbery. Lying that injures either reputa- tion or property, is a robbery. Slander comes under the same denomination, and is correctly mulcted in the shape of damages and costs by the law of this country. Though deprivations of property, or rob- beries, may be made without any relation to the powers of speech ; still, an example of deviation from truth, or the unchided habit, and growing propensity in a child, may be traced to be the forerunner of a sc- ries of vices. * It is a matter of great importance, that the example THE MORALIST. 69 of lying - should not be sot before a child ; nor any thing s-aid or done, that can by any possibility encou- rage the child to state an untruth. Nothing is sooner learnt than the habit of lying : even an in- fant quickly catches the object, and soon becomes an adept. The evil once generated, the habit should never pass unchided ; and the practitioner should, on each ofience, be made sensible of some loss or displeasure. To encourage the practice is to vitiate the mind of the child. Not to repro- bate, is to encourage. To set the example, is a disqua- liHcation lor moral controtil. In people of years, it is a degrading vice. What can be a more honourable condition than to have it said that, that man's word is as good a$ (jold, his oath, his bund f What more degrading than— that man is a /iar ?■ Every man professes to seek his own happi- ness ; but he woefully mistakes, both his means and his end, who seeks it in the vice of lying. Truth will stand by a man at all times ; and a man supported by truth always feels that he can stand. The liar is abashed at exposure j and falls to rise no more, where he is once detected. MORALS SELECTED FROM THE BIBLE, GOING THROCGU EACH BOOK ACCORDING TO THE PRESENT ARRANGE- MENT. EXODUS. Chap. 20.— Honour thy father and thy mother. — Thou shalt not kill. — Thou shalt not commit adultery . —Thou shalt not steal. — Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's house, thou shall not covet thy neigh- bour's wife, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neigh- bour's. Chap. 23. — Thou shalt not raise a false report: put not thine hand with the wicked to be an unrighteous witness. — Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil ; neither shalt thou speak in a cause to decline after many to wrest judgment. — If thou meet thine enemy's ox or his ass going astray, thou shalt surely bring it back to him again. — If thou see the ass of him that hatethtbee lying under his burden, and wouldest forbear to help him, thou shalt sury help with him.— 70 THE MORALIST. Thou shalt not wrest the judgment of thy poor in his cause. — Keep thoe Car from a false matter*; and the in- nocent and righteous slay thou not.— Thou shalt not oppress a stranger. LEVITICVS. Chap. 19. — Ye shall not steal, neither deal falsely, neither lie one to another.— Thou shalt not defraud thy neighbour, neither rob him: the wages of him that is'hired shall not abide with thee all night until the morning.— Thou shalt not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling block before the blind.— Ye shall do no un- righleousness in judgment : thou shalt not respect the person of the poor, nor honour the person of the mighty; but in righteousness shalt thou judge thy neighbour. Thou shalt not go up and down as a tale- bearer among the people; neither shalt thou stand against the blood of thy neighbour. — Thou shalt not hate tby brother in thine heart: thou shalt in any wise rebuke thy neighbour, and not suffer sin upon him. — Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.— Do not prostitute thy daughter, to cause her to be a whore ; lest the land fall to whoredom, and become full of wickedness.— Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man.— If a stranger sojourn with thee in your land, ye shall not vex him; but the stranger that dwelleth with you shall be unto you as one born among you, and thou shalt love him as thy- self. — Ye shall do no unrighteousness in judgment, in meteyard, in weight, or in measure. — Just balances, just weights, a just ephah, and a just hin, shall ye have. Chap. 25. — Ye shall not oppress one another. DEUTERONOMY. Chap. 5. — Honour thy father and thy mother, that it may go well with thee.— Thou shalt not kill.— Nei- ther shalt thou commit adultery.— Neither shalt thou steal. — Neither shalt thou bear false witness against thy neighbour. — Neither shalt thou desire thy neigh- bour's wife, neither shalt thou covet thy neighbour's house, his field, or his man-servant, or his maid-ser- vant, his ox, or his ass, or any thing that is thy neigh- bour's. Chap, to.— Love ye the stranger. Chap. 16.— Thou shalt not wrest judgment; thou shalt not respect persons, neither take a gift.— That which is altogether just shalt thou follow. THE MORALIST. 71 Chap. 22.— Thou shall not see thy hrother's ox or his sheep go astray, and hide thyself' froni Uiem : thou shalt in any case bring them again unto thy brother. — And if thy brother be not nigh unto thee, or if thou know him not, then thou shalt bring it unto thine own house, and it shalt be with thee until thy brother seek after it, and thou shalt rcstoie it to him again.— In like manner shalt thou do with his ass; and so shalt thou do with his raiment; and with all lo»t things of thy brother's, which he hath lost, and thou hast found, shalt thou do likewise : thou mayest not hide thyself.— Thou shalt not see thy brother's ass or his OX fall down by the way, and hide thyself from them : thou shalt surely help him to lift them up again. Chap. 24. — Thou shalt not pervert the judgment of the stranger, nor of the fatherless. Chap. 25.— If there be a controversy between men, and they come unto judgment, that the judges may judge them, then they shall justify the righteous, and condemn the wicked. Thou shalt not have in thy bag divers weights, a great and a small. Thou shalt not have in thine house divers measures, a great and a small. But thou shalt have a perfect and just weight, a perfect and just measure shalt thou have. JOB. Chap. 15.— The wicked man travaileth with pain alibis days, and the number of years is hidden to the oppressor. Let not him that is deceived trust in vanity: for vanity shall be his reeompence. The con- gregation of hypocrites shall be desolate, and fire shall consume the tabernacles of bribery. Chap. 17.— The righteous shall hold on in his way, and he that hath clean hands shall be stronger and stronger. Chap. 27.— My lips shall not speak wickedness, nor my tongue utter deceit. Chap. 31.— Is not destruction to the wicked ? and a strange punishment to the workers of iniquity? Chap. 32. — Great men are not always wise: neither do the aged understand judgment. Chap. 34.— That the hypocrite reign not, lest, the people be ensnared. That which I see not teach thou me • if I have done iniquity, I will do no more. Let men ol understanding tell me. PSALMS. Psalm l. Blessed is the man that walkcth not in the 72 THE MORALIST. counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. Psalm 2. Be wise, be instructed ye judges of the earth. Psalm 4. Stand in awe, and sin not: commune ivith your own heart upon your bed, and be still. Psalm 5. Abhor the bloody and deceitful man. - Psalm 7. Oh let the wickedness of the wicked come to an end ; but establish the.just. Psalm 15. He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speakelh the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a vile person is con- temned. He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not. He that taketh no reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved. Psalm 25. Let integrity and uprightness preserve me. Psalm 26. I have walked in mine integrity : exa- mine me, prove me, try my heart. I have walked in truth ; I have not sat with vain per s ons, neither will I go in with dissemblers. I have hated the congre- gation of evil doers; and will not sit with the wicked. I will wash my hands in innoceney. Gather not my soul with sinners, nor my life with bloody men, in whose hands is mischief, and their right hand is full of bribes. But as for me, I will walk in mine in- tegrity. Psalm 28. Draw me not away with the wicked, and with the workers of iniquity, which speak peace to their neighbours, but mischief is in their hearts. Give them according to their deeds, and accoiding to the wickedness of their endeavours ; give them after the work of their hands ; render to them their desert. Psalm 31. Let the lying lips be put to silence -. which speak grievous things proudly and contemptuously against the righteous. Psalm 32. Many sorrows shall be to the wicked. Psalm 34. Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile. Depart from evil, and do good ; seek peace, and pursue it. Evil shall slay the wicked, and they that hate the righteous shall be deso- late. Psalm 37. Fret not thyself because of evil doers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iai- THE MORALIST. 73 quity. For they shall soon be cut down as Ihe grass, and wither as the green herb. Fret not thyself be- cause of him who prosperetli in his way, because of the man who briogeth wicked devices to pass. Cease from anger, and forsake wrath : fret not thyself in any wise todo evil: for evil doers shall be cut oft'. The wicked plotted) against the just, and gnasheth upon him with his teeth. The wicked have drawn out the sword, and have bent their bow, to cast down the poor and needy, and to slay such as be of upright conversation. A litde that a righteous man hath is bet- ter than the riches of many wicked. The wicked bor- roweth and payeth not again : but the righteous sheweth mercy and giveth. Depart from e\il and do good. I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green bay tree. Yet he passed away, and |lo, he was not: yea, I sought him, but he could not be found. But the transgressors shall be destroyed together : the end of the wicked shall be cutoff. Psalm 40. Blessed is the man that respecteth not the proud, nor such as turn aside to lies. Psalm 41. Blessed is he that considereth the poor. Psalm 49. Hear this, all ye people; give ear, all ye inhabitants of the world : both low and high, rich and poor together. My mouth shall speak of wisdom; and the meditation of my heart shall be of under- standing. They that trust in their wealth, and boast themselves in the multitude of their riches; none of them can by any means redeem his brother, nor ran- som him that he should live for ever, and not see cor- ruption. For he seeth that wise men die, likewise the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others. Their inward thought is, that their houses shall continue for ever, and their dwelling places to all generations ; they call their lands after their own names. Nevertheless man being in honour abideth not: he is like the beasts that perish. This their way is their folly; yet their posterity approve their sayings. Like sheep they are laid in the grave ; death shall feed on them; and the upright shall have dominion over them in the morning; and their beauty shall consume in the grave from their dwelling. Be not thou afraid when one is made rich when the glory of his house is increased; for when he dieth he shall carry nothing away: his glory shall not descend after him. Though While he lived he blessed his soul : and men will praise thee, when thou docst well to thyself. 74 THE MORALIST. He shall go to the generation of his fathers; they shail never see light. Man that is in honour, and understandeth not, is like the beasts that perish. Psalm G2. Trust not in oppression, and become not vain in robberv r ; if riches increase, set not jour heart upon them. Psalm 85. Mercy and truth have met together, righte- ousness and peace have kissed each other. Truth shall spring out of the earth. Psalm 94. Understand, ye brutish among the people: and ye fools, when will ye be wise? Psalm 101. I will behave myself wisely in a perfect way. I will walk within my house wilh a perfect heart. I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes : I hate the work of them that turn aside ; it shall not cleave to me. A froward heart shall depart from me: I will not know a wicked person. Whoso privily slandereth his neighbour, him will I cut oft': him that hath an high look and a proud heart will not I suffer. Mine eyes shall be upon the faithful of the land, that they may dwell with me ; he that walketh in a perfect way, he shall serve me. He that workelh deceit shall not dwell within my house, he that telleth lies shall not tarry in my sight. Psalnrio3. As for man, his days are as grass : as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone 3 and the place thereof shall know it no more. Psalm 112. Unto the upright there ariseth light in the darkness: be is gracious, and full of compassion, and righteous. A good man sheweth favour, and Icndeth : he will guide bis affairs with discretion. Surely he shall not be moved for ever : the righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance. He shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed. His heart is established, he shall not be afraid, until he see his desire upon his ememies. He hath dispersed, he bath given to the poor ; his righteousness endureth for ever ; his horn shall be exalted with honour. The wicked shall see it, and be grieved ; he shall gnash with his teeth, and melt away : thedesire of the wicked shall perish. Psalm 119. I hate and abhor lying. PROVERBS. 1. A wiseman will hear, and will increase learning:; and a man of understanding shall attain unto wise counsels. THE MORALIST. 75 2. My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake' not the law of thy mother. For they shall bo an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck. 3. My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not. If they say, come with us, let us lay wait for blood, let us lurk privily for the innocent without cause. Let us swallow them up alive as the grave, and whole, as those that go down into the pit: We shall lind all precious substance, we shall fill our houses with spoil. Cast in thy lot among us ; let us all have one purse. My son, walk not thou in the way with them ; refrain thy foot from their path : for their feet run to evil, and make haste to shed blond. Surely in vain the net is spread in the sight of any bird. And they lay wait for their own blood; they Jurk privily for their own lives. So are the ways of every one that is greedy of gain ; which takcth away the life of the owners thereof. 4. Wisdom crieth without; she uttereth her voice in the streets : She crieth in the chief place of concourse, in the openings of the gates : in the city she uttereth her words, saying: how long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity ? and the scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge ? Turn you at my reproof: behold, I will pour out my spirit unto you, I will make known my words unto you. Because I have called, and ye refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded ; but ye have set at nought all my counsels, and would none of my reproof. I also will laugh at your oalamity; I will mock when your fear cometh; when your fear cometh asdesola* tion, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind ; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me : for that they hated knowledge : they would none of my counsel: they despised all my reproof. Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own devices. For the turning away of the simple shall slay them, and the prosperity of fools shall destroy them. Eut whoso hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be ^uiel from fear of evil. 5. When wisdom entereth into thine heart, and knowledge is pleasant unto thy soul, discretion shall preserve thee ; understanding shall keep thee : to de- liver thee from the way of the evil man, from the mao 76 THE MORALIST. lhat speaketli forward things; who leave the paths of uprightness, to walk in the ways of darkness ; who rejoice to do evil, and delight in the frowardness of the wicked ; whose ways are crooked, and they fro- ward in their paths to deliver thee from strange women, even from the stranger which flattereth with her words ; which forsaketh the guide of her }outh. For her house inclineth unto death, and her paths unto the dead. None that go unto her return again, neither take they hold of the paths of life. That thou mayest walk in the way of good men, and keep the paths of the righteous. For the upright shall dwell in the land, and the perfect shall remain in it. But the wicked shall be cut off from the earth, and the transgressors shall be rooted out of it. 6. My son, forget not my law : but let thine heart keep my commandments ; for|lcngth uf days, and long life, and peace, shall they add to thee. Let not mercy and truth forsake thee: bind them about thy neck; write them upon the table of thine heart; so shalt tbon find favour and good understanding in the sight of man. 7. Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding. For the merchandize of it is better than the merchandize of silver, and the gain thereof than line gold. She is more preciuus than rubies ; and all the things that thou can'st desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days rS in her right band; and in her left hand, riches and honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her ; and happy is every one that retain- eth her. 8. My son, keep sound wisdom and discretion : so shall they be life unto thy soul, and grace to thy neck. Then shalt th<.u walk in thy way safely, and thy foot shall not stumble. When thou liest down, thou shalt not be afraid ; yea, thou shalt lie down, and thy sleep shall besweet." Be not afraid of sudden fear, neither of the desolation of the wicked, when it . cometh. 9. Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it. Say not unto thy neighbour go, and come again, and to- morrow I will give, when thou hast it by thee. Devise not evil against thy neighbour, seeing he dwclleth se- curely by thee. to. Strive not with a man without cause, if he have done thee no barm. THE MORALIST. 77 11. Envy thou not Ihe oppressor, and choose none of his \va\S. 12. The wise shall inherit glory ; but shame shall be the promotion of fools. 13. Hear, ye children, the instruction of a father, and attend to know understanding. For I give you good doctrine, forsake yo not my law. For I was my father's son, tender and only beloved in the sight ot mv mother. He taught me also, and said unto me- letthme heart retain my words: keep my command- ments, and live. Get wisdom, get understanding: forget it not; neither decline from the words of my mouth. Forsake her not, and she shall preserve: love her, and she shall keep thee. Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom, and with all thy getting get understanding. Exalt her, and she shall promote thee: she shall bring thee to honour, when thou doest embrace her. She shall give to thine head an ornament of grace; a crown of glory shall she deliver to thee. Hear, O my son, and receive mv sayings; and the years of thy life shall be many. 1 have taught thee in the way of wisdom; I have led thee in right paths. When thou goest, thy steps shaft not be straitened ; and when thou runest, thou shall not stumble. Take fast hold of instruction ; let her not go : keep her ; for she is thy life. 14. Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away. For they sleep not, ex- cept they have done mischief; and their sleep is taken away, unless they cause some to fall. For they cat the bread of wickedness, and drink the wine of violence. But the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. The way of the wicked is as darkness : they know not at what they stumble. 15. 3Iy sun, attend to my words; incline thine ear unto my sayings. Let them not depart from thine eyes; keep them in the midst of thine heart. For they are life unto those that find them, and health to all their flesh. Keep thy heart with all diligence; fur out of it arc the issues of lite. Put away from thee a fro ward mouth, and perverse lips put far from thee. Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eye- lids look straight before the.::. Ponder the path of thy leet, and let all thy wavs be established. Turn nut to the right haud nor to the left ; remove toy foot from evil. 78 THE MORALIST. 16. My son, attend unto my wisdom, and bow down thine ear lo my understanding: that thou inayest re- gard discretion, and that thy lips may keep know- ledge. For the lips of a strange woman drop as an honey comb, and her mouth is smoother than oil; but her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword. Remove thy way far from her, and come not nigh the door ol her house: lest thou give thine ho- nour unto others, and thy years unto the cruel : lest strangers be tilled with thy wealth ; and thy labours be in the house of a stranger ; and thou mourn at the last, when thy flesh and thy body are consumed, and say, how have I hated instruction, and my heart de- spised reproof; and have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined mine ear to them that instructed me! I was almost in all evil in the midst of the congre- gation and assembly. 17. Drink waters out of thine own cistern, and run- ning waters out of thine own well. Let thy fountain be blessed : aud rejoice with the wife of tliy youth. Let her be as the loving hind and pleasant roe; let her breasts satisfy thee at all times; and be thou ra- vished always with her love. And wilt thou, my son, be ravished with a strange woman, and embrace the bosom of a stranger. 18. His own iniquities shall take wicked himself, and he shall be holden with the cords of his sins. He shall die without instruction, and in the greatness of his folly he shall go astray. 19. Go to the ant, thou sluggard ; consider her ways, and be wise: which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, provided) her meat in the summer, and gather- rth her food in the harvest. How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard ? When wilt thou arise out of thy sleep. Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little foldingof the bands to sleep : so shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man. 20. A naughty person, a wicked man, walketh with afroward mouth. He winkcth with his eyes, he speak- eth with his feet, he teacheth with his "Angers; fro- wardness is in his heart, he deviseth mischief continu- ally ; he sowelh discord. Therefore shall his calamity come suddenly : suddenly shall he be broken without remedy. 21. These seven things are an abomination : a proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed inno- cent blood, an heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, a false wit- THE MORALIST. t\) ness that speaketb lies, and he that soweth discord ainoug brethren. 23. My son, keep thy father's commandment, and for- sake not the law of thy mother: bind them continually upon thine heart, and tie them about thy neck. When thou goest, it shall lead thee; when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee : and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee. For the commandmeut is a lamp; and the law is light: and reproofs of instruction are the ways of life : to ket-p thee from the evil woman, from the flat- tery of the tongue of a strange woman. Lust not after her beauty in thine heart; neither let her take thee with her eye-lids. For by means of a whoreish woman a man is brought to a piece of bread : and the ad ul tress will hunt for the precious life. Can a man take lire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? So he that goetb in to his neighbour's wife ; whoso- ever toucheth her shall not be innocent. Men do Dot despise a thief, if he steal to satisfy his soul when he is hungry ; but if he be found, he shall restore sevenfold ; he shall give all the substance of his house. But whoso commilteth adultery with a woman lackelh un- derstanding : he that doeth it destroyeth his own soul. A wound and dishonour shall beget: and his reproach shall not be wiped away. For jealousy is the r^gc of a nun ; therefore he will not sp^re iu the day of ven- geance. He will not regard any ransom ; neither will he rest, content, though thou givestmany gifts. 23. My son, keep my svords,and lay up my command- ments with thee. Keep my commandments, and live ; and my law as the apple of thine eye. Bind them upon thy fingers, write them upon the table of thine heart. Say unto wisdom, thou art my sister ; and call under- standing thy kinswoman : that they may keep thee from the strange woman, from the stranger which flat- tereth with her words. For at the window of my house I looked through the casement, and beheld among the simple ones, I discerned among the youths, a young man void of understanding, passing through the *treet near her corner ; and he went the way to her house, in the twilight, in the evening, in the black and dark night : nnd behold, there met him, a woman with the attire of an harlot, and subtle of heart. She is loud and stubborn; her feet abide not in her house : now is she without, now in the streets, and lielh in wail at every corner. So she caught him, and kissed him, and with an impudent face said unto him, I have peace 80 THE MORALIST. offerings with me, this day have I payed my vows- Therefore came I forth to meet thee, diligently to seek thy face, and I have found thee. 1 have decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with line linen of Egypt. I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. Come, let us take our fill of loveuutil the morning: let us solace our- selves with love. For the good man is not at home, he is gone a long journey : he hath taken a bag of money with him, and will come home at the day appointed. With her much (air speech, she caused him to yield, with the flattering of her lips she forced him. He goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks ; till a dart strike through his liver ; as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life. Hearken unto me now therefore, O ye children, and attend to the words of my mouth. Let not thine heart decline to her ways, go not astray in her paths. For she hath cast down many wounded : yea, many strong men have been slain by ber. 24. Doth not wisdom cry? and understanding put forth her voice ? She standeth in the. top of high places, and by the way in the places of the paths. She crieth at the gates, at the entry of the city, at the coming in at the doors. Unto yon, O men, I call; and my voice is to the sons of man. O ye simple, un- derstand wisdom ;and, ye fools, be of an understanding heart Hear ; for I will speak of excellent things ; and the opening of my lips shall be right things. For my mouth shall speak truth ; and wickedness is an abomination to my lips. All the words of my mouth are in righteousness ; there is nothing froward or per- verse in them. They are all plain to him that under- standeth, and right to'tbem that find knowledge. Re- ceive my instruction, and not silver; and knowledge rather than choice gold. For wisdom is better than rubies ; and all the things that may be desired are not to be Compared to it. I, wisdom, dwell with prudence, and find out knowledge of many witty inventions. I hate evil: pride, and arroganey, and thee\il way, and the Iroward mouth, do I hate. (To be continued.) London : Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street. 1!!%e JWoraKst No. 6, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON FILTHINESS. Filtliiness is an evil that has hitherto, in a great measure, arisen out of the customs and manners of mankind ; and the knowledge is yet confined to a lew, that, it is in itself a disease and the cause of other diseases upon the human body. As a little industry removes this disease and its contagion, its retention becomes criminal; for, one half of the diseases inci- dent to mankind result from tilthiness of the person, in impurities concreted upon the skin, for wanting periodical cleansings both of skin and apparel, and in breathing a foul air, for want of cleanliness id dwellings and neighbourhood. Filtliiness is criminal in the highest degree, as no individual can gather a disease about himself without the danger of infecting all who live in the neighbourhood. In large and thickly inhabited towns, there is perpetual danger of conta- gious diseases arising from filtbiness; and though its amount has much diminished, there is enough remain- ing to excite alarm, and to urge every individual to habitual cleanliness in person, dwelling and vicinity. There is no safety but in the generality of individual exertion, and as it is a well known maxim, that one scabbed sheep infects a whole flock, so one impure per- son and dwelling may infect the inhabitants oi'a whole district. If it were proper for legislators to interfere with the private concerns of individuals, nothing can be more essential than the enforcement of habits of cleanliness, by fines for every species of neglect. Filtliiness maybe considered under four heads: — first as to porso:i :— second as to apparel : — third as to dwelling:— fourth as to vieinity of dwelling : as the body is a fleeted by each. First, as to person. Since the discovery of the cir- culation of the blood, it has been also discovered, that the body is a series of tubes, through which various kinds of fluids perpetually circulate, and finally London: Printed and Published by It. Carlile, 84, Fleet street. 82 THE MORALIST. exude tlm>tt»1i the |*>res of the skin, carrying oft" all impurities and decayed parts, by the growth of new, and the ejection of that which previously existed. The common term, by which this process of exuding by the pores of the skin is known, is perspiration; aud, in common talk, we speak of perspiration as ex- cited and increased action, or excess of heat; but there is always an insensible perspiration going on, whether we sleep or awake, whether we rest or move. In high degrees of perspiration, we have visible proof; in ordinary degrees, we cau infer from the manner in which the body soils the linen which covers it. Every body, surrounded by a lighter or moro rare body, forms its peculiar atmosphere; though not visible to the human eye, the human body throws off a perpetual stream of air from its every pore ; and the pores of the skin of a full grow n person are sup- posed to exceed two millions. The air which the body exudes is not wholesome to Rethrown back upon it again, as it is of an opposite quality to that which is imbibed or inspired when we move in whaA is com- monly termed a fresh or good air : so that close rooms tilled with many persons, the want of currents of air through them, linen or woollen long continued on the body, and the body long unwashed, are all calculated to injure the health, by having a foul air forced back into the body, or such an air as is already saturated with the impurities of the former passage through its tubes and pores, and reuilercd unfit to accomplish the wholesome purpose for which it is requisite. This constant exudation of the fluids of the body forms concretions on the uncovered parts; but more particularly on the parts of the body co\ ercd by dress ; and the mure often these concretions are cleansed by bathing, brushing, or rubbing, the more free i'»m there is in the skin to keep up the necessary secretions. Hence may be seen the wholesome nature*of warm and cold bathings ; and in the absence of these, it is a wholesome practice to stand often undressed, to re- ceive what is called an air bath, and to brush the body, or rub it well with a coarse cloth. Regular cleansings of the body in this manner, and temperate feedings, will kerp it free from almost all diseases ; and should it accidentally receive contagion from a more foul or dis- eased body, it will be in a state calculated to repel that contagion without danger. Beside this encou- ragement, every kind of cleanliness is a source of pleasurable sensation. THE MORALIST. 83 It is the case with too many persons, that dress is but a cover for dirt ; and could the inhabitants of any town in this island be all exhibited naked, they would be found, in the aggregate, more dirty than any other kind of animals about them. There are those who pass througb life and never wash any part of the body but their bands and face, and these but seldom ; but it is a most unwholesome neglect, as well as a source of constant itching and uneasiness. Dress, in this case, becomes an iujury, and the person a nuisance, a dangerous nuisance to society. Nothing is more cal- culated to extend the period of human life than tem- perate feeding, proper cleansing, and to be ever seek- ing the opportunity to use moderate exercise in the best air that our atmosphere affords, and to endea- vour to assimilate the air of our dwellings as near as possible to that of a elear atmosphera. The towns are but few in this country where baths are to be found for hire, and there should not be a vil- lage without them ; nay, it should be every where a family practice. When a bathing vessel is discovered to be a more wholesome household utensil than a bed- warming pan, we shall see a more healthy race of people than we do at present. The practice of bath- ing is much increased in this country ; but it ought to be universal. It is as essential to health as food ; and more particularly so when the quantity of dress is great on the body. The atmospheric air is not an clement, but a com- |>ound of elements ; that part of the compound which is called oxygen is the vital part for animals. As the air we breathe has morn or Jess of oxygen in it, so is it more or less wholesome. The oxygen which enters the body is all absorbed, and none ot it ejected in its pure state. The lungs analyse the compound which we inhale, separate and fix the oxygen, and expel the hydrogen and carbon; so that it is unwholesome to breathe the breath of another, as it does not contain the necessary portion of oxygen to sustain the powers of respiration. All other air expelled from the body is cither hydrogen or carbon ; and the sooner it is dispersed by the powers of the atmosphere, the better tor the body. This may be clearly understood by the offensive nature of foul lungs, teeth, or stomach ;" the offensive smell of the feet and bodies of some people ; and, in fact, from all the evacuations and exudations of the body. In the properties of animals and vegetables there is 84 THE MORALIST. quite a contrast, making ihem the proper sustenance of each other. The animal generates and expels enr- bon\ the vegetable absorbs" carbon and generates and expels oxygen — the process in each being very near alike. This explains the correctness of the generally- entertained notion, that it is wholesome to walk in a garden or field, and to live as much among vegetables as possible: the interchange of atmospheric matter between the animal and vegetable being precisely that which is suited to each other's wants. Another species of personal fillhiness is the use of snuff and tobacco. It is not known, that these prosti- tutions of the nose and mouth— for prostitutions they are, as foul as any that any part of the body can be ex- posed to — generate any contagious disease; but that they destroy the palate and olfactory nerves, and vi- tiate the stomach, is well understood. The fit thin ess perpetually generated by these habits is most foul and offensive. ■ It seems like tan inversion of the order of nature, and a constant evacuation of foul and offensive matter from the mouth and nose, which cleanliness requires should be kept most clean. The principle of the thing is precisely the principle of voluntary pros- titution,' a base use of the organs of the body to ob.ain a little momentary irritation and excitement, a want of decency, a want of respect for ourselves and those with whom we associate, an excess that destroys its own source of gratification. It is as great an abuse of the body, and more till hy than drunkenness, more foul than prostitution. Evacuations through the me- dium of the mouth or nose should be studiously made as private as any other evacuation, or as private as convenience wiil admit, and not be obtruded before the eyes of others, as if it was a matter of course. A matter of course, it certainly is; but so are many other things, to perform which we scrupulously seek privacy. Neither snuff nor tobacco can in any wise feed the body ; the# cannot be shewn to act medi- cinally, though excuses of the kind arc made ; there- fore, being expensive and useless, the practice can only be denominated a payment for the accumulation ofjilthiness. To say it is a pleasure to use them, is no fur- ther a fair excuse, than may be raised for every other filthy and offensive vice. It is like drunken- ness— the vice of habit and bad example— a yielding to a foul passion, which it is our moral duty* to con- troul and subdue. THE MORALIST. 80 Second :— Cleanliness as to apparel is closely con- nected willi cleanliness as to body or person." The body c;tnnot be clean when covered with foul apparel. Little more can be said under this head, than, thai the reasons shewn lor the wholesomeness of cleanli- ness under the lirst head go to sheWj that changes of linen or woollen on the body, from foul to clean, can- not be too often made ; and that the lighter the body is clad, so as to aft'ord a satisfactory warmth in this variable climate, the more conducive to generu^ health. — Anothef view of cleanliness of apparel is, that it commands respect and procures friendly at- tachments, which filthmess must keep at a distance. Under this vice it must be seen, that it is to the particular interest of every individual, that he or she should observe all possible cleanliness. It is a species of good manners, which maltes our company agreeable to all and offensive to none. Third :— As to filthiness of dwelling, it is productive of more mischief than is discerned at a first or care- less view. It is a correct maxim that we cannot breathe or move in too pure an air; and as air can only be kept pure by an unimpeded circulation with the common mass of the atmosphere, it follows, that every kind of impediment to that free circulation must render the air of the immediate neighbourhood impure ; and the congregation of a number of animals within any given space or place still adds to the impurit;, . Currents of air may be carried through a house, so as to assimilate the air within the walls to the atmosphere without; but the moment you shut out those currents, the air of your habitation begins to be foul. At every breathing, we pollute a volume of air of considerable bulk; and, if it could be so managed, prudence re- quires that we should not breathe over again, that which we have once breathed; but that, wherever we are, awaking or sleeping, currents of air should be kept up by doors, windows, chimnies, or ventilators. Every species of dirt allowed to gather about our dwellings, or about the neighbourhood of those dwel- lings, is calculated to pollute and render unwholesome the air which we breathe, and which is, strictly speak- ing, by far the largest portion of the food which sus- tains us. It is the property of air to pervade every sub • stance that it surrounds, and to change the qualities of those substances, in greater or lesser degrees, leav- ing a portion of its own property upon them; there- fore, the washings of floors with water, and walls with 86 THE MORALIST. lime and paint, are matters that cannot be too often done ; guarding against the generation of a too moist and damp atmosphere. One of the advantages oT cleanliness is, that it is a source of exercise, and both alike conduce to promote a greater amount of health and pleasurable sensation. Filthiness, is disgrace and danger of pain and disease: cleanliness, is respect, comfort, health and happiness. The fourth and last head for consideration, or the filthiness of the vicinity of our dwelling, might have been classed with the dwelling itself, as it relates to the air we breathe. Both the dwelling and vicinity of dwelling should be kept as free as possible from all kinds of animal excrement, from all kinds of stagnant air and water, from all kinds of rotting substances. Fire and water become the best general purgatives, and the free use of them in dwellings and neighbour- hood is most wholesome. They carry off the foulness of grosser matter which a current of air cannot ac- complish. It is much to be lamented, that many dwellings are so ill constructed, and so ill situated, as to be defi- cient in the means of common cleanliness : and thus a foul air is perpetually generated by excrement, which ought to be washed away or removed at a dis- tance as soon as thrown off, being stored up in holes, corners, and cupboards! Such is the case with most of the old houses in this country; but it is gratifying to observe, that better provision is making for the example of future generations. A stream of water or a common sewer is indispensable to health and comfort where a hundred houses are built together, and inhabited by a hundred families. Cleansing of streets is now very properly made a matter of police ; and no strictness or severity of fine on this ground can be construed to be an abridgment of liberty. The liberty beneficial to society can countenance no one vice, no bad habits: no degree of filthiness. Liberty consists in the suppression of vice, in the enforcement of moral habits, in good in- structions and good examples. The less encourage- ment there is found to do wrong, the more liberty will be found to do right. The tyranny that enforces cleanliness is w holesome. THE MORALIST. 87 PROVERBS. ( Continued from p. 80.) Counsel is mine, and sound wisdom : I am understand- ing: I have strength. I love them that love me ; and those that seek me early shall find me. Riches and honour are with me; yea, durable riches & righteousness. My fruit is better than gold, yea, than tine gold: and my revenue than choice silver. I lead in the way of righteousness, in the midst of the paths of judgment: that I may eause those that love me to inherit substance ; and I will fill their treasures. Now therefore, hearken unto me, Q ye children, for blessed are they that keep my ways. Hear instruction, and be wise, and refuse it not. Blessed is the man that heareth me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my doors ; for whoso'findeth me findeth life ; but he that sinneth against me wrongeth bis own soul : all they that hate me love death. 25. Wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars; she hath killed her beasts ; she hath mingled her wine; she hath also furnished her table. She hath sent forth her maidens ; she crieth upon the highest places of the city. Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither : as for him that wanteth understanding, she saith to him, Come eat of my bread, and drink of the wine which I hath mingled. For- sake the foolish, and live ; and go in the way of under- standing. He that reproveth a scorner getteth to him- self shame : and he that rebuketh a wicked man getteth himself a blot. Reprove not a scorner, lest be bate thee: rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee. Give instruction to a wise man, and be will be yet wiser: teach a Just man, and he will increase in learning. For by me thy ways shall be multiplied, and the years of thy life shall be increased. If thou be wise, thou shalt he wise for thyself: but if thou scorn- est, thou alone shalt bear it. 26. A foolish woman is clamorous: she is simple, and knoweth nothing. For she sitteth at the door of her house, on a seat in the high places of the city. To call passengers who go right on their ways ; whoso is sim- ple, let him turn in hither: and as for him that wanteth understanding, she saith to him, stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant. 27. A wise son maketh a glad father : but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother. 88 THE MORALIST. 28. Treasures of wickedness profit nothing: but righteousness delivereth from death. •29. Hebecomelh poor that dealeth with a slack hand : but the hand of the diligent rnaketh rich. 30. He that gathereth in summer is a wise son ; but he thatsleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame. 31. Blessings are upon the head of the just ; but vio- lence covereth the mouth of the wicked. 3?. The memory of thcjust is blessed : but the name of the wicked shall rot. 33. The wise in heart will receive commandments : but a prating fool shall fall. 34. He that walketb uprightly, walketh surely: but he that pcrverteth his ways shall be known. 3a. He that winketh with the eye ca-useta sorrow: but a prating fool shall fall. 36. The mouth of a righteous man is a well of life ; but violence covereth the mouth of the wicked. 37. Hatred stirreth up strife: but love covereth all sins. 38. Wise men lay up knowledge : but the mouth of the foolish is near destruction. 39. The rich man's wealth is his strong city : the destruction of tbe poor is their poverty. 40. The labour of the righteous tendeth to life: the fruit of the wicked to sin. 41. He is in the way of life that keepeth instruction : but he that refuseth reproof erretb. 42. He that hideth hatred with lying lips, and he that uttereth a slander, is a fool. 43. In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin : but he that refraineth his lips is wise- 44. The tongue of the just is as ehoice silver : the heart of the wicked is little worth. 45. The lips of the righteous feed raany^ but fools die for want of wisdom. 46. The fear of the wicked, it shall come upon him ; but the desire of the righteous shall be granted. 47. The hope of the righteous shall be gladness: but the expectation of the wicked shall perish. 48. The lips of the righteous know what is accepta- ble: but the mouth of the wicked speaketh froward- ness. 49. A false balance is an abomination: but a just weight is delight. 50. When pride cometh, then comelh shame j but with the lowly is wisdom. THE MORALIST. 89 5\. The integrity of the upright shall guide them : but the perverseness of transgressors shall destroy them. 52. Riches profit not in the day of wrath : but righ- teousness delivereth from death.* 53. The righteousness of the perfect shall direct his way: but the wicked shall fall by his own wickedness. 54. The righteousness of the upright shall deliver them: but transgressors shall be taken iu their own naughtiness. 55. An hypocrite with his mouth destroyeth his neigh' hour: but'through knowledge shall the just be de- livered. 56. He that is void of wisdom despiscth his neigh- bour: but a man of understanding boldeth his peace. 57. Where no counsel is, the people fall: but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety. 58. He that is surety for a stranger shall smart for it : and he that hateth suretisbip is sure. 59. A gracious woman retaineth honour: and strong men retain riches, 60. The merciful man doeth good to his own soul: but he that is cruel troubleth his own flesh. 6L. The wicked worketh a deceitful work: but to him that saveth righteousness shall be a sure reward. 62. As righteousness tendeth to life; so he that pur- sueth evil pursueth it to his own death. 63. They that are of a froward heart are an abomina- tion : but such as are upright in their way are a delight. 64. Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished : but the seed of the righteous shall be delivered. 65. As a, jewel of gold in a swine's snout, so is a fair woman without discretion. 66. The desire of the righteous is only good : but the expectation of the wicked is wrath. 67. There is that scalteretb, and yet increaseth ;. and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty. 68. He thatdiligently seeketh good, procureth favour; but he that seeketh mischief, it shall come unto him. 69. He that trusteth in his riches shall fall: but the righteous shall flourish as a branch. 70. He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind : and the fool shall be a servant to the wise of heart. 90 THE MORALIST. 71. The fruit of Ihe righteous is a tree of life; and be that winneth souls is wise. 72. Behold, the righteous shall he recompensed in the earth : much more the wicked and the sinner. 73. Whoso loveth instruction loveth knowledge: but he that bateth reproof is brutish. 74. A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband: but she that maketh ashamed is as rottenness in bis bones. 75. The thoughts of the righteous are right: but the counsels of wicked are deceit. 76. The words of the wicked are to lie in wait for blood : but the mouth of the upright shall deliver tbem. 77. The wicked are overthrown, and are not: but the house of the righteous shall stand. 78. A man shall be commended according to his wisdom : but he that is of a perverse heart shall be despised. 79. He that liHeth his land shall bo satisfied with bread : but he that followeth vain persons is void of understanding. 80. The wicked is ensnared by the transgression of bis lips: but the just shall come out of trouble. 81. A man shali be satisfied with good by the fruit of his mouth: and the recompense of a man's hands shall be rendered unto him. 82. The way of a fool is right in bis own eyes : but he that hetirkeneth unto counsel is wise. 83. A fool's wrath is presently known : but a pru- dent man coveretb shame. 84. He lhatspeaketh truth sheweth forth righteous- ness : but a false witness deceit. 85. There is that speaketh like the pieroings of a sword : but the tongue of the wise is health. 86. The lip of truth shall be established for ever: but a lying tongue is but for a moment. 87. Deceit is in the heart of them that imagine evil : but to the counsellors of peace is joy. 88. There shall no evil happen to the just : but the wicked shall be filled with mischief. 89. Lying lips are an abomination: but they that deal truly are a delight. 90. A prudent man concealeth knowledge: but the heart of fools proelaimeth foolishness. 91. The band of the diligent shall bear rule: but the slothful shall be under tribute. THE MORALIST. 91 92. Heaviness in the heart of man maketh ft stoop : but a good word maketh it glad. 93. The righteous is more excellent than his neigh- bour : but the way of the wicked sedueeth them. 94. The slothful man roasteth not that which he took in hunting: but the substance of the diligent man is precious. 95. In the way of righteousness is life ; and in the pathway thereof there is no death. 96. A'wise son heareth his father's instruction: but a scorner heareth not rebuke. 97. A man shall eat good by the fruit of his mouth : but the soul of the transgressor shnll suffer violence. 98. He that kecpeth his mouth kecpeth his life: but he that opeueth wide his lips shall have destruc- tion. 99. The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing: but the soul of the diligent shall be made fat. 100. A righteous man hateth lying: but a wicked man is loathsome, and cometh to shame. 101. Righteousness kecpeth him that is upright in the way : but wickedness overthroweh the sinner. 102. There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing: there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches. 103. The light of the righteous rejoiceth : but the lamp of the wicked shall be put out. 104. Only by pride cometh contention : but with the well advised is wisdom. 105. Wealth gotten by vanity shall be diminished : but he that gathereth by labour shall increase. 106. Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life. 107. The law of the wise is a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death, 108. Good understanding givetli favour: but the way of transgressors is hard. 109. Every prudent man dealeth with knowledge: but a fool layeth open his folly. 110. A wicked messenger falleth into mischief: but a faithful ambassador is health. 111. Poverty and shame shall be to him that refuseth instruction: but he that regardelh reproof shall be honoured. 112. The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul: but it is abomination to fools to depart from evil. 92 THE MORALIST. 113. He that walketh with wise men shall bo wise: but a companion of fools shall be destroyed. 114. Evil pursueth sinners: but to the righteous good shall be repayedi 115. A good man leaveth an inheritance to his chil- dren's children : and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just. 116. The righteous eateth to the satisfying of his soul: but the belly of the wicked shall want. 117. Every wise woman buildeth her house : buttho foolish plucketh it down with her hands. 118. In the mouth of the foolish is a rod of pride : but the lips of the wise shall preserve them. 119. A faithful witness will not lie: but a false wit- ness will utter lies. 120. A scorner seeketh wisdom, and findelh it not: but knowledge is easy unto him that understandeth. 12!. Go from the presence of a foolish man, »vhen thou perceiveth not in him the lips of knowledge. 122. The wisdom of the prudent isto understand his way : but the folly of fools is deceit. 123. Fools make a mock of sin : but among the righteous there is favour. 124. The heart knoweth his own bitterness; and a stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy. 125. The house of the wicked shall be overthrown : but the tabernacle of the upright shall flourish. 126. There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. 127. The backslider in heart shall be filled with his own ways: and a good man shall be salistied from himself. 12S. The simple believeth every word: but the pru- dent man looketh well to his going. 129. A wise man feareth, and departeth from evil : but the fool rageth, and is confident. 130. He that is soon angry dealeth foolishly : and a man of wicked devices is soon hated. 131. The simple inherit folly: but the prudent are crowned with knowledge. 132. The evil bow before the good ; and the wicked at the gates ol righteousness. 133. He that deapiseth his neighbour sinneth : but he that hath mercy on the poor, happy is he. 131. Do they not err that devise evil? but mercy and truth shall be to them that devise good. 135. In all labour there is profit: but the talk of the lips tendeth only to penury. * THE MORALIST. 93 13G. The crown of the wise is their riches; but the foolishness of fools is their folly. 137. He that is slow to wrath is of great understand- ing: but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly. 138. A sound heart is the life of the flesh : but envy the rottenness of the bones. 139. Righteousness exalteth a nation: but sin is a reproach to any people. 140. A soft answer turneth away wrath : but grievous words stir up anger. 141. A wholesome tongue is a tree of life : but pcr- vcrseness therein is a breach in the spirit. 142. A fool despiseth his father's instruction : but he that regardelh reproof is prudent. 143. In the house of the righteous is much treasure: but in the revenues of the wicked is trouble. 144. The lips of the wise disperse knowledge: but the heart of the foolish doeth not so. 145. A scorner loveth not one that reprovcth him: neither will he go unto the wise. 14C. The heart of him that hath understanding, seek- eth knowledge: but the mouth of fools feedeth on foolishness. 147. All the days of the afflicted are evil: but he that is of a merry heart hath a continual feast. 148. Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith. 149. A wrathful roan stirrelh up strife: but he that is slow to anger appeaselh strife. 150. The way of the slothful man is as an hedge of thorns: but the way of the righteous is made plain . 151. A wise son maketh a glad father : but a lbulish man despiseth his mother. 152. Folly is joy to him that is destitute of wisdom : but a man of understanding walketh uprightly. 153. Without counsel purposes are disappointed : but in the multitude of counsellors they areestublished. 154. He that is greedy of gain troubieth his own house; but he that hateth gifts shall live. 155. The heart of the righteous studieth to answer: but the mouth of the wicked poureth out evil things. 15G. The light of the eyes rcjoicelh the heart; and a good report maketh the bones fat. 15*. The ear that heareth the reproof of life, abideth among the wise. 158. He that refuseth instruction despiseth his own soul: but he that heareth reproof getteth under- standing. 94 THE MORALIST. 159. Belter is a little with righteousness than great revenues without right. 160. How much better is it to get wisdom than gold? and to get understanding rather to be chosen than silver? 161. The highway oT the upright is to depart from evil : he that keepeth his way preserveth his soul. 162. Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. 163. Better it is to be of an humble spirit with the lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud. 164. Hethathandleth amatterwisely shall find good. 165. The wise in heart shall be called prudent: and the sweetness of the lipsincreaseth learning. 166. Understanding is a well spring of life unto him that hath it i but the instructions of fools is folly. 167. The heart of the wise teacheth his mouth, and addeth learning to his lips. 168. Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones. 169. A wicked man diggeth up evil: and in his lips there is as a burning tire. 170. A froward man soweth strife ; and a whisperer separateth chief friends. 171. A violent man enticeth his neighbour, and lead- eth him into the way that is not good. 172. He that shutteth his eyes to devise froward things : moving his lips he bringeth evil to pass. 173. The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness. 174. He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty ; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city. 175. Belter is a dry morsel, and quietness therewith, than an house full of sacrifices with strife. 176. A wicked door giveth head to false lips ; and a liar giveth ear to a naughty tongue. 177. Excellent speech becometh not a fool: much less do lying lips a prince. 178. He that covereth a transgression seeketh love ; but he that repeateth a matter separateth very friends. 179. A reproof entereth more into a wise man than an hundred stripes into a fool. 186. Whoso rewardeth evil for good, evil shall not depart from his house. 181. The beginning of strife is as when one lettelh out water: therefore leave off contention, before it be meddled with. THE MORALIST. 95 li*2. Wherefore is there a price in the hand of a fool to get wisdom, seeing he hath no heart to itr 1 183. He that hath a froward heart findeth uo good: and he that hath a perverse tongue falleth iuto mis- chief. 184. A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones. 185. A wicked man taketh a gift out of the bosom to pervert the ways of judgment. 186. A foolish son is a grief to his father, and bitter- ness to her that bare him. 187. He that hath knowledge spareth his words; and a man of understanding is of an excellent spirit. 188. Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise : and he that shutteth his lips is es- teemed a man of under-standing. 189. Through desire a man, having separated him- self,«eckelh and intermeddleth with all wisdom. 190. A fool hath no delight in understanding, but that his heart may discover itself. 191. When the wicked cometh, then cometh also contempt, and with ignominy reproach. 192. The words of a man's mouth are as deep waters, and the well-spring of wisdom as a flowing brook. 193. It is not good to accept the person of the wicked, to overthrow the righteous. 194. A fool's lips enter into contention, and his mouth calleth for strokes. 195. A fool's mouth is his destruction, and his lips are the snare of his soul. 196. The words of a tale-bearer arc as wounds, and they go down into the innermost parts of the belly. 197. He that is slothful in his work is brother lo him that is a great, waster. 198. Before destruction the heart of man is haughty, and before honour is humility. 199. He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him. 200. The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear ? 201. The heart of the prudent getteth knowledge, and the ear of the wise seeketh knowledge. 202. He that is first in his cause seemeth just ; but his neighbour comethand searcheth him. 203. The lot causeth contentions to cease, and part* etu between the mighty. 96 THE MORALIST. 204. A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city ; and their contentions are like the bars of a castle. 205. A man that hath friends must show himself friendly : and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. 206. Better is the poor that walketh in integrity, than he lhat is perverse in his lips, and is afool. 207. A false witness shall not be unpunished, and he that speaketh lies shall perish. 208. The discretion of a man deferreth his anger ; and it is his glory to pass over a transgression. 209. A foolish son is the calamity of his father : and the contentions of a wife, are a continual drop- ping. 210. Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep : and an idle soul shallsuffer hunger. 211. A man of great wrath shall suffer punishment, for if thou deliver him, yet thou must do it again. 21 1. Hear counsel and receive instruction, that thou mayest be wise in the latter end. 213. The desire of man is his kindness; and a poor man is better than a liar. 214. A slothful man hideth his hand in his bosom, and will not so much as bring it to his mouth again. 215. Smite a scorner, aud the simple will beware; and reprove one that hath understanding; and he will understand knowledge. 216. He that wasteth his father, and chaseth away his mother, is a son that causeth shame, and bringeth reproach. 217. Cease, my son, to bear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge. 218. An ungodly witness scornelh judgment: and the mouth of the wicked devoureth iniquity. 210. Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging; and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise. 220. It is an honour for a man to cease from strife; but every foul will be meddling. 221. The sluggard will not plough by reason of the cold ; therefore shall he beg in harvest, and have no- thing. 222. Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water ; but a man of understanding will draw it out. 223. Most men will proclaim every one his own goodness ; but a faithful man who can find ? (To be continued.) London : Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 64, Fleet-street. mjt JWoraifet No. 7, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON IDLENESS. Idleness is a vice of habit— a disease which grows upon the body, to any extent in which the mind cherishes it, and allows it to grow. It is a disease that brings on others in its train, and is to be cured only by a resolution that it shall be cured, — a resolu- tion to act, to move, to work, to be industrious. The active motion of the body shakes off this sluggish disease, and, after rousing from a fit of sloth, we feel an excitement, an exhilaration, that is a positive change from disorder to health. A truly idle man was never a long-liver. Idleness is sister to filthiness; both spring from sloth ; and the sense of injury that shall stimulate to exertion is the best remedy for both. Out of idleness comes a long train ol nervous disorders and frequent apoplexy. The idler's body is always full of aches and pains, which a little wholesome exer- cise would prevent. The wholesome and necessary circulation and secretion of the fluids of the body is only to be kept up by the due motion and activity of the'whole frame, and all pain may be considered an obstruction of the circulation of those fluids, a stag- nancy that renders the fluids impure. The proverb is correct, that one evil seldom comes alone. Evil gathers evil : good accumulates good. Destroy the evil ; che- rish the good habit. Independent of the disease and pain which idleness, as a habit, brings upon the body; a greater evil is, the loss which the individual sustains, in the waste of time that might be rendered productive, and in the waste of property that iws been produced by others. Property, consisting of those things which make life happy, it follows, that the amount of happiness is in- creased with the increase of the amount of property in the possession of each individual ; therefore, a man who, by idleness, neglects to gather property fur his own use, evidently stands in the way of his own happi- London : Primed and Published byR. Carlile, 64, Fleet-street 98 THE MORALIST. ness. It is a village proverb, that a shoemaker's family and a blacksmith's horse generally go tbe worst shod ; and though it is possible, that this might not be alto- gether the effect of idleness, still the probability is great, thai it is so in nine cases out often ; for a little extra exertion is all that is necessary to keep them the best shod. So, in every other trade, the facilities are greater for the acquisition or increase of such goods as the individual can manufacture; but there is, there always will be, an opportunity to barter the over-production of one kind for another kind of goods, so that each shall possess the most agreeable variety. A general over-production there cannot be, until each industrious person has more of his manu- factures ready made, than he can barter for other use- ful or desirable things. Such a general event does not seem possible to the writer of this ; for each may go on to improve his mode of diet, dress, and dwell- ing, lo any extent corresponding with the means he can accumulate. We hear of over-production in the present state of society; but it is a perverted phrase: the evil lies in restricted industry : in a want of the means of consumption by large numbers of ttie people ; in an unnatural position of society, or disposition of parts rather ; in wages made too low for the general welfare by taxation ; and, in some degree, by idleness in a multitude, depriving themselves of the means of a greater consumption of produce. Tbis paragraph also may be concluded by an appropriate axiom— a man, in "doing good to himself, generally does good to others ; and, in the reverse, tbe effect corresponds >vhen he neglects to do himself good, or does a posi- tive harm. Idleness does not only consist of inactivity; but that merits the term which forms an useless activity. To be busy, and to do nothing useful, though it may insensibly improve our healths, cannot merit the name of industry. It is next to impossible, but that a use- less bustle must produce some mischief in the way of wear and tear ; and though, as the prorcrb says; a slothful man is brother to a great waster, the applica- tion is equally good to a man uselessly active: to a fox hunter for instance, and to many similar pastimes. Where there is no useful production, there is generally a useless and unjust consumption. Still, it must be confessed, that the active idler is a more agreeable character than the lazy, sluggish, sauntering, slothful man. THE MORALIST. 99 It has been well said, that the difference of rising two hours earlier in the morning, allowing the person to begin at twenty years of age and to live till sixty, adds t'u II three years lo the period of life, on the condi- tion that a sufficiency of rest is taken ; and, if he be careful to use these two hours well, he may calculate, that he increases his happiness in the rate of compound interest, or every additional quantity generating a .still greater quantity. Under this consideration, who but a fool would waste his time in bed, or in any other way ? Idleness does not rank so high in the scale of crime, as drunkenness; though it is criminal in the same de- gree as we have families depending upon our labour. An idle man, with a family of children, is a greater criminal than a single man; because, he generates a greater amount of pain; but, in the public eye, both are characters equally to be despised. Unfigured preceptsof this kind are allowed to be the most impressive, and since a large number of the pro- verbs of the Old Testament set forth in this and the last number of " The Moralist," puts the bad effects of idleness in every possible shape, an expatiation upon the passion, if that deserves to be called a passion, which is opposed to motion, will be reserved for a dis- tinct treatise on that head. Hitherto the more com- mon vices of mankind have been exposed, with their effects, in the most plain manner; but subsequent essays on the passions will be much more laboured. It has been thought prudent to condense the morals of the Bible in the fewest possible numbers, and, for this purpose, to introduce but short leaders with then). The quality of the matter of ' ; The Moralist" will be uniform; therefore it is not of much consequence from what source, or in what shape it comes. PROVERBS. (Continued from p. 96 ) 2-24. The just man walketh in his integrity : his chil- dren are blessed after him. 225. Who can sa}, I have made my heart clean, I am pure from sin ? 226. Divers weights, and divers measures, are an abomination. 100 THE MORALIST. 227. Even a child is known by his doings, whether his woik-be pure, and whether it be right. 228. Love not sleep, lest Ihou come to poverty ; open thine ejes, and thou shalt be satisiied with bread. 229. Bread of deceit is sweet to araan; but after- wards his mouth shall be tilled with gravel. 230. He that goeth about as a tale-bearer, revealeth secrets; therefore, meddle not with him that flatterelh with his lips. 231. Whoso curselh his father or his mother, his lamp shall be put out in obscure darkness. 232. The thoughts of the diligent tend only to plen- teousness ; but of every one that is hasty only to want. 233. The getting of treasures by a lying tongue, is a vanity tossed to and fro of them that seek death. 234". The robbery of the wieked shall destroy them, because they refuse to do judgment. 235. It is better to dwell in a corner of the house- top, than with a brawling woman in a wide house. 230. The soul of the wicked desircth evil : bis neigh- boar findelh no favour in his eyes. 237. When the seorner is punished, the simple is made wise: and when the wise is instructed, he re- ceiveth knowledge. 238. A gift in secret pacifielh anger ; and a reward in the bosom, strong wrath. 239. It is joy to the just to do judgment : but des- truction shall be to the workers of iniquity. 240. The man that wanderelh out of the way of un- derstanding, shall remain in the congregation of the dead. 241. He that loveth pleasure shall be a poor man; he that loveth wine and oil shall not be rich. 242. It is better to dwell in the wilderness, than with a contentious and an angry woman. 243. There is treasure to be desired, and oil in th<^ dwelling of the wise; but a foolish man 'spendeth it up. 244. He that follow eth after righteousness and mtr- cy, fiedeih life, righteousness, and honour. 245. A wise man scaleth the city of the mighty, and casteth down the strength of the confidence thereof. 246. Whoso keepelh his mouth and his tongue, keep- eth his soul i'rem troubles. 247. Proud and haughty seorner is his name, who dealeth in proud w rath. 248. The desire of the slothful killelh him; for his bauds refuse to labour. THE MORALIST. 101 249. A false witness shall perish; but the man that heareth speakeih constantly. 250. A wicked man hanieneth his face; but as for the upright, he direeteth his way. 251. A {;ood mine is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold. 23?. A prudent man foreseeth the evil, and hidetli himself ; but the simple pass on and are punished. 253. Thorns and snares are in the wav of the fro- ward: he that doth keep his soul, shall' be far from them. 254. Train up a child in the way he should go ; and when he is old tie will not depart from it. 255. The rich rnleth over the poor, and the borrower is servant to the lender, 236. He that soweth iniquity shall reap vanity; and the rod of his anger shall fail. 257. He that hath a bountiful eye shall be blessed ; for he giveth of his bread to the poor. 238. Cast out the scorner, and contention shall go out; yea, strife and reproach shall cease. 259." The slothful man saith, There is a lion with- out, I shall be slain in the streets. 260. He that oppresseth the poor to increase his riches, and he that giveth to the rich, shall surely come to want. 261. Bow down thine ear, and hear the words of the wise, aud apply thine heart unto my knowledge. For it is a pleasant thing if thou keep them within thee; they shall be withal littedto thy lips. 262. Rob not the poor, because he is poor ; neither oppress the afflicted in the gate. 263. Make no friendship with an angry man; and with a furious man thou shall not go, test thou learn his ways, and get a snare to thy soul. 264. Apply thine heart unto instruction, and thine ears to the words of knowledge. 365. Be not among wine bibbers, nor riotous eaters of flesh ; for the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty; and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags. 266. Hearken unto thy father that begat thee, and despise not thy mother when she is old. 267. Buy the truth, and sell it not ; also wisdom, and instruction, and understanding. 268. The father of the righteous shall greatly rejoice ; and he that begetteth a wise child shall have joy of him. 269. Who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath 102 THE MORALIST. contentions? who hath babbling? who hath wounds without cause ? who hath redness of eyes ? The} that tarry long at wine ; they that go to seek mixed wine. 270. Be not thou envious against evil men, neither desire to be with them, for their hearts studieth destruc- tion, and their lips talk of mischief. 271. Through wisdom is an house builded ; and by understanding it is established; and by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and plea- sant riches. 272. A wise man is strong; yea, a man of knowledge increaseth strength. 273. Wisdom is too high for a fool : he openeth not his month in the gate. 274. He that deviseth to do evil shall be called a mis- chievous person. 275. The thought of foolishness is sin; and the scorner is an abomination to men. 276. If thou faint in the day of adversity, thystrength is small. 277. My son, eat thou honey, because it is good; and the honey-comb, which is sweet to thy taste ; so shall the knowledge of wisdom be unto thy soul: when thou hastfound it, then there shall be a reward, and thy ex- pectation shall not be cut oft". 278. Lay not wait, O wicked man, against the dwell- ing of the" righteous ; spoil not his resting place. 279. Rejoice not when thine enemy falleth ; and let not thine heart be glad when he stumbleth. 280. Fret not thyself because of evil men, neither be thou envious at the wicked, for there shall be no re- ward to theevil man ; the candle of the wicked shall be put out. 281. It is not good to have respect of persons in judgment. 282. He that saith unto the wicked, Thou art righteous, him shall the people curse, nations shall abhor him: but to them thatrebuke him shall be delight, and a good blessing shall come upon them. 283. Every man shall kiss his lips that giveth a right answer. 284. Be not a witness against thy neighbour without cause; and deceive not with tby lips : say not, I will do so to him as he hath done unto me ; I will render to the man according to his work. 285. I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding, and lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had co~ THE MORALIST. 103 vcred the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down. Then I saw, and considered it well. I looked upon it, and received instruction. Yet a lit- tle sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep. So shall thy poverty corneas one that travel- led, and thy want as an armed man. 2bG. Go not forth hastily to strive, lest Ihou know not what to do in the end thereof, when tby neighbour hath put thee to shame. 287. Debate thy cause with thy neighbour himself; and discover not 'a secret to another, lest he that hear- cth it put thee to shame, and thine infamy turn not away. 288. A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pic- tures of silver. J89. As an ear-ring of gold, and an ornament of fine gold, so is a wise reprover upon an obedient ear. 290. As the cold ot snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to them that send him ; for he re- fresheth the soul of his masters. 291. Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is suffi- cient for thee, lest thou be tilled therewith, and vomit it. 292. Withdraw thy foot from thy neighbour's house, lest he be weary of thee, and so hate thee. 293. A man that beareth false witness against his neighbour is a maul, and a sword, and a sharp arrow. 294. Confidence in an unfaithful man, in time of trouble, is likes broken tooth, and a foot out of joint. 295. If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat ; and if he be thirsty, give him water to drink. 29fi. The north-wind drivethaway rain; so doth an angry countenance, a back-biting tongue. 297. He that hath no rule over his own spirit, is like a city that is broken down and without walls. 298. As snow in summer, and as rain in harvest, so honour is not seemly for a fool. 299. As by the bird , by wandering, as the swallow by flying, so the curse causeless shall not come. 300. A whip for the horse, a bridle for the ass, and a rod for the fool's hack. 301. Answer not a fool accordiug to his folly, lest thou also be like unto him. 302. Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own conceit. 303 He that sendeth a message by the hand of a fool, cutteth oft' the feet, and drinketh damage. 104 THE MORALIST. 304. As be that bindeth a stone in a sling, so is lie that givelh honour to a fool. 305. As a dog returneth to bis vomit, so a tool return- eth to bis folly. 306. Seest thou a man wise in bis own conceit ? There is mort; hope of a fool than of him. 307. The slothful man saitb, there is a lion in the way j a lion in the streets. 30«. As a door turnetb upon its hinges, so doth the sluggard upon his bed. 309. The slothful hideth his hand in bis bosom ; it grievetb him to bring it again to bis mouth. 310. The sluggard is wiser in his own conceit than seven men that can render a reason. 311. He that passcth by, and meddleth with strife belonging not to him, is like one that takelh a dog by the ears. 312. As a madman who castetb firebrands, arrows, and death ; so is the man that deceiveth his neighbour, and saitb, am not I in sport ? 313. Where no wood is, there the fire gocth out ; so where there is no tale bearer, the strife ceasetb. 314. As coals are to burning coals, and wood to fire ; so is a contentious man to kindle strife. 315. The words of a tale bearer, are as wounds, and they go down into the innermost parts of the belly. 316. Burning lips and a wicked heart are like a pot- sherd covered with silver dross. 317. Whose hatred is covered by deceit, bis wick- edness shall be showed before the whole congrega- tion. 318. A lying tongue batetb those that arc afflicted by it ; and a flattering mouth worketh ruin. 319. Boast not thyself of to-morrow ; for tbouknow- est not what a day may bring forth. 320. Let another man praise thee, and not ihineown mouth ; a stranger, and not thine own lips. 32 1. A stone is heavy, and the sand weighty ; but the fool's wrath is heavier'than them both. 322. Wrath is cruel, and anger is outrageous ; but who is able to stand before envy ? 323. Open rebuke is better than secret love : faithful are the wounds of a friend , but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful. 324. The full soul loatheth an honeycomb ; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet. 325. As a bird that wan dereth from ber nest, so is a man that waudereth from his *dace. THE MORALIST. 105 326. Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart ; so doth the sweetness oi* a man's friend by hearty coun- sel. 327. Thine own friend, and thy father's friend, for- sake not; neither go into thy brother's house in the day of thy calamity : for better is a neighbour that is near than a brother far off. 328. A prudent man foreseeth the evil, and hideth himself, but the simple pass on, and are punished. 329. A continual dropping in a very rainy day and a contentious woman are alike. 330. Be thou diligent to know the state of thy flocks, and look well to thy herds. 331. The wicked ilee when no man pursued] : but the righteous are as bold as a lion. 332. A poor man that oppresseth the poor, is like a sweeping rain which leaveth no food. 333. Better is the poor that walketh in his upright- ness, than he that is perverse in his ways, though he be rich. 334. Whoso keepeth the law is a wise son : but he that is a companion of riotous men, shameth his fa- ther. 335. He that by usury and unjust gain increaseth his substance, be shall gather it for him that will pity the poor. 336. Whoso causeth the righteous to go astray in an evil way, he shall fall himself into his own pit ; but the upright shall have good things in possession. 337. The rich man is wise in his own conceit ; but the poor man that hath understanding searcheth him out. 338. W r hen righteous men do rejoice, there is great glory: but when the wicked rise a man is hidden. 339. He that covereth his sins shall not prosper : but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy. 34o'. As a roaring lion, and a ranging bear ; so is a wicked ruler over the poor people. 341. Whoso ualketh uprightly shall be saved: but he that followeth after vain persons shall have poverty enough. 342. To have respect of persons is not good: for, for a piece of bread, that man will transgress. 343. He that rebuketh a man, afterwards shall find more favour than he that fl ittereth with the tongue. 344. Whoso robbeth his father or his mother, and 106 THE MORALIST. saith, it. is no transgression ; the same is the compa- nion of a destroyer. 445. When the wicked rise, men hide themselves ; but when they perish, the righteous increase. 346. When the righteous are in authority, the peo- ple rejoice : but when the wicked beareth rule, the people mourn. 34". Whoso loveth wisdom rejoiccth his father : but he that keepeth company with harlots spendeth his substance. 348. A man that flattereth his neighbours, spreadeth a net lor bis feet. 349. In the transgression of an evil man there is a snare ; but the righteous doth sing and rejoice. 350. The righteous considered] the cause of the poor : but the wicked regardelh not to know it. 351. Scornful men bring a city into a snare ; but vise men turn away wrath. 352. The rod and reproof give wisdom : but a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame. 353. When the wicked are multiplied, transgression increaseth : but the righteous shall see their fall. 354. Correct thy son, and he shall give thee rest ; yea, he shall give delight unto thy soul. 355. An angry man stirreth up strife, and a furious man aboundelh in transgression. 356. A man's pride shall bring him low: but honour shall uphold the humble in spirit. 357. Whoso is partner with a thief hateth his own soul, he beareth cursing, and betrayeth it not. 35s. An unjust man is an abomination to the just : and he that is upright in the way is abomination to the wicked. 359. Remove far from me vanity and lies: give me neither poverty nor riches: feed me with food conve- nient for me. 300. Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as arc appointed to destruction. Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of'the poor and needy. 361. Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. She seeketh wool and tlax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchant ships; she bringeth her food from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and givelh meat to her THE MORALIST. 107 household, and a portion to her maidens. She consi- dered a held, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard, she giideth her loins with strengh, and strengtheneth her arms. She per- ceiveth that her merchandize is good: her candle goeth not out by nigbt. She layeth her hand to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretch- ed] out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household : for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She makcth herself coverings of tapestry ; her clothing is silk and purple. Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. She maketh fine linen, and scllethit; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom ; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed ; her husband also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain ; but such a woman shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands ; and let her own works praise her in the gates. ECCLESIASTES ; OR, THE PREACUER. 1. One generation passeth away, and another gene- ration cometh: but the earth abideth for ever. 2. All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it : the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. 3. Wisdom excelleth folly, as far as light excelleth darkness. f - 4. Better is an handful with quietness, than both the hands full with travail and vexation of spirit. 5. The sleep of the labouring man is sweet, whether he eat little or much ; but the abundance of the rich will not suffer him to sleep. 6. A good name is better than precious ointment. 7. Surely oppression maketh a wise man mad; and a gift destroveth the heart. 8. Be not'hasty in thy spirit to be angry : for anger resteth in the bosom ot fools. 9. Wisdom is good with an inheritance: and by it there is profit to them that see the sun. For wisdom is a defence, and money is a defence: but the excel- 108 THE MORALIST. lcncy of knowledge is, that wisdom giveth life to them that" have it. 10. In the day of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity consider. 11. Who is as the wise man? and who knoweth the interpretation of a thing? a man's wisdom maketh his lace to shine, and the boldness of his face shall be changed. 12. Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave, whither thou gocst. 13. Wisdom is better than strength : nevertheless the poor man's wisdom is despised, and his words are not heard. The words of wise men are heard in quiet more than the cry of him that ruleth among fools. Wisdom is belter than weapons of war; but one sinner destroyeth much good. 14. The words of a wise man's mouth are gracious ; butthelips of a fool will swallow up himself. The beginning of the words of his mouth is foolishness: and the end of his talk is mischievous madness. A fool also is full of words : a man cannot tell what shall be ; and what shall be after him, who can tell him ? Chap. l. Wash you, make you clean ; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes ; cease to do evil; learn to do well; seek judgment, re- lieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow. Chap. 3. Say ye to the righteous, that it shall be well with him : for they shall eat the fruit of their doings. Woe unto the wicked ' it shall be ill with him : for the reward of his hands shall be given him. Chap. o. Woe unto them that rise up early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink; that continue until night, till wine inflame them ! Woe unto them that draw iniquity with cords of va- nity, and sin as it were with a cart rope! Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for dark- ness ,• that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter! Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight ! Woe unto them that are mighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strongdrick: which justify THE MORALIST. 109 the w icked for reward, find take away the righteousness of the righteous from him ! Chap. in. Woo unto them that decree unrighteous decrees, and that write grievousness which they have prescribed. To turn aside the needy from judgment, and to take away the right from the poor of my people, that widows may be their prey, and that they may rob the fatherless ! And what will ye do in the day of visitation, and in the desolation which shall come from far? to whom will ye flee for help? and where will yc leave your glory ?• Chap. 13. I will punish the world for their evil, and the wicked for their iniquity; and I will cause the arrogancy of the proud to cease, aud will lay low the haughtiness of the terrible. Chap. 32. The work of rightousness shall be peace ; and the effect of righteousness quietness, and assu- ranee for ever. Chap. 33. Ho that walketh righteously, and speaketh uprightly ; he that despiseth the gain of oppressions, that shake th his hands from holding of bribes, that stoppeth his ears from hearing of blood, andshutteth his eyes from seeing evil ; he shall dwell en high : his place of defence shall be the munitions of rocks : bread shall be given him ; his waters shall be sure. Chap. -J8. There is no peace unto the w icked. JEREMIAH. Chap. 22. Woe unto him that buildeth his house by unrighteousness, and his chambers by wrong ; that useth his neighbour's service, with- out wages, and giveth him not for his work: that sailh, I will build me a wide house and large chambers, and cultelh him out windows; and it is cieled wilh cedar, and painted with vermilion. Shalt thon reign, because thou closest thyself in cedar? did not thy father eat and drink and do judgment and justice, and then it was weli with him? He judged the cause of the poor and the needy ; then it was well with him. EZEKIEL. Chap. 18. The son shall not bear the iniquity cf the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son ; the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall he upon him. But when the righteous turneth awav from his 110 THE MORALIST. righteousness, and committeth iniquity, and doeth ac- cording to all the abominations that the wicked man doeth, shall he live? All his righteousness that he hath done shall not he mentioned : in his trespass that he hath trespassed, and in his sin that he hath sinned, in them shall he die. — Again, when the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness that he bath com- mitted, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive. Because he considereth, and turneth away from all his transgressions that he hath committed, he shall surely live, he shall not die. Repent and turn yourselves from all your transgres- sions ; so iniquity shall not be your ruin. Chap. 33. (Repeats the moral of Chap. L8.) Chap. 45. Remove violence aud spoil, and execute judgment and justice, take away your exactions from the people. Ye shall have just balances, aud ajust ephah, and ajust bath. AMOS. Chap. 5. Seek good, and not evil, that ye may live. Hate the evil, and love the good, and establish judg- ment in the gate. Let judgment run down as waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream. Chap. 2. Woe to them that devise iniquity, and work evil upon their beds! when the morning is light, they practise it, because it is in the power of their hand. Chap. 3. It is not for you to know judgment, who hate the good, and love the evil ? Chap. 4. They shall beat their swords into plow- shares, and their spears into pruning hooks ; nation shall not lift up a sword agaiust nation, neither shall they learn war any more ; but they shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig-tree j and none shall make them afraid. Chap. 6. Are there yet the treasures of wickedness in the house of the wicked, and the scaut measure that is abominable? Shall I count them pure with the wicked balances, and with the bag of deceitful weights. Fur the rich men thereof are full of vio- lence, and the inhabitants thereof have spoken lies, and their tongue is deceitful in their mouth. HABBAKUK. Chap. 2, Behold, his soul which is lifted up is not THE MORALIST. Ill upright in him : but the just shall live by faith.— Woe t-j him thai coveteth an evil covetonspess to his house, that he maj set his nest on high, that he may be deli- vered from Ihe power of evil !— Woe to him that buildeth a town with blood, and established! a city by iniquity '.—Woe unto him that givelh his neighbour drink, that puttest thy bottle to him, and makest him drunken also, that thou mayesl look on their nakedness! ZECHARTAH. Chap. l. Turn ye now from your evil ways, and from your evil doings. Chap. 7. Execute true judgment, and show mercy and compassion every man to his brother,— and op- press not the widow, nor the fatherless, the stranger, nor the poor ; aud let none of you imagine evil against his brother in your heart. ST. MATTHEW. Chap. 5. Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness.— Blessed are the meek— the merciful — the pure in heart— the peace-makers. — Swear not at all. Chap. 7. With what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again — First cast our the beam out of thine eye ; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye. — All things whatsoever ye would that men shoulddo to\ou, do ye even so to them. Chap. 12. Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desoiatiun; and every city or bouse divided against itself shall not stand. Chap. 19. Tiiou shalt do no murder; Thou shait not commit adultery ; Thou shalt not steal ; Thou shalt not bear false witness; Honour thy father and thy mother. ST. MARK. In addition to a part of the selections from St. Mat- thew, is the following. Chap. 9. Have peace one with another. ST. LUKE. In addition. Chap. 10. Who is my neighbour? Jesus answering said, a certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped bim 112 THE MORALIST. of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. And by chance there came down a certain Priest that way; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side. But a cer- tain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, and went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two- pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him : lake care of him ; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee. Which now of these three, thinkcst thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves? He that shewed mercy unto him. Then go and do thou likewise. Chap. 16. He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much: and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much. Chap. 17. Take heed to yourselves: If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him ; and if lie repent forgive him. Chap. 21. Take heed to yourselves, lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and drunk- enness. Chap. 3. Every one that docth evil hatelh the light » neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should b e reproved ; but he that doeth truth cometh to the light* that his deeds may be made manifest. Chap. 13. Love one another. EPISTLE TO THE KOM.WS. Chap. £. Thou therefore which teachest another, teachest thou not thyself? Thou that preachest a man should not steal, dost thou steal? Thou that s.iyest a man should not commit adultery, dost thou commit adulter) i (To be continued.) London : Printed and Published by R. Caulile, 84, Fleet-street. / M)e JWoralfet No. 8, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON SECRECY. Hitherto, the capacity to keep a secret has been pro- nounced a virtue ; but why a secret should exist, has never been an enquiry. The purpose of this paper is to overthrow most of the present and past notfous of mankind, as to the prudence of secrecy. The writer cannot see how the word can be raised without its im- plying an injury intended or feared. A secret is in- tended to inflict, or to prevent the reception of, an in- jury ; and, in either case, is connected with the prin- ciple of immorality, for morality neither offers, nor feels the fear of receiving injury as a merit. Without the intention or fear of injury, the case in question cannot be a secret. It is the power to injure, or to repel an injury, that conslitutes the principle of se- crecy, and this being the case, it would be far better that the principle were not to be found among man- kind. Secrecy is found in a variety of grades ; among chil- dren, in families— among lovers, in marriage— among neighbours, in sects— among parties, in Governments — and among nations. Under these several heads, its value is proposed to be discussed. First. Among children, it can no farther be consi- dered an evil, than as it may be a growing habit. — Their sympathies and antipathies supply their little minds with secrets, but a good education would sur- mount all the habit of secrecy that may, in reality, London: Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street 114 . THE MORALIST. constitute an impropriety of conduct. It is a matter of vast future importance, to teach children to be open aud sincere in all their savings and doings j for secre- cy, once encouraged or uncbided, will lead to lying and to other vices. No idea of secrecy should ever be impressed upon them, as it may be viewed in the light of the first lesson in the school of deceit, which is more easily impressed, than eradicated when once ac- quired. To teach them virtue, Ihey should see as lit- tle as possible of vice ; for youth is not the period to distinguish between these opposites, nor to reflect upon their effects ; and secrecy can in no wise, with an in- fant or youth, be ranked in the class of virtues. A parent or nurse can never be loo careful of the exam- ples which are set before their children ; for it is, in a great measure, out of first examples that the future character is formed. As secrecy, therefore, cannot possibly produce any good among children, it should be discouraged and avoided in example. Second. In families, it is impossible that a series of secrecy can generate harmony, but must, on the other hand, as fast as it is detected, generate ill-will and dis • cord, and a perpetual suspicion, even when and where nothing has been done amiss. It is, therefore, a matter of very great importance, that no secrecy should be practised in a family ; that all should be candour, openness, uprightness, and free communication. Any kind of secrecy, on matters that concern a second or third party, argues an imperfection of character; for wherever true morality is in practice, no such secrecy can be required, nor be morally useful. There are tome matters that concern us but as individuals, or in rotation to man and wife, father and son, mother and daughter, master and mistress and servant, which are not necessarily to be divulged ; but these are a species of affairs that concern us but as individuals, that con. cern no secoud party, and, consequently, cannot come THE MORALIST. 115 under the denomination of secrecy. Every kind or secrecy is not only a deterioration of the individual character j but the withholding of some knowledge that may be useful to anoth r, is calculated to impede individual and general improvement; and, in this light, secrecy may be viewed, not only as a great fa- mily injury, but as a great national or human injury. Third. Among lovers, this principle has its evil. — Unrequited love may be termed a battle — successful love, a conquest. In some cases it proves a hard- fought battle j in others, a mere parade or walking over the course. But it is the war of the passions only, and it should never be lost sight of, that the end is to be friendship and harmony, which every kind of stratagem and secrecy used in the contest will finally operate to mar. The battle ended, and a conquest made, the result is the, Fourth head, or marriage. In speaking of marriage as a state separate from that of family, we must consi- der a new married couple living alone. Between this couple, these two in one, this one flesh, what need can there be of secrecy? Between them, as well as one flesh, there should be but one purse, one mind, one connection, each studying to promote the other's hap- piness. Any kind of secrecy, in this state, must lessen affection, create suspicion of not being loved, and lay the foundation of thinking, that each is ac- tuated towards the other but by bad motives. Secrecy being a species of fraud upon the knowledge of ano- ther, it follows, that, like most other frauds, it is sooner or later detected ; and detection must be fol- lowed by bickering, dislike, and even hatred; there- fore, it is always a matter worthy of consideration how such evils are to be avoided, and one way certainly is, to avoid being the depository of any thing in the shape of a secret, to consider secrecy an act of injus- tice and injury towards some persoD, and to renounce 116 THE MORALIST. it. That can never be a trial of honest fidelity wblefa implies injury to another. Trust is a species of at- tachment and fidelity which works good to some per- son or person*, and intentional injury to none. In any other sense, it is not virtue : such, for instance, as where zeal and fidelity are used for base purposes. Hence it may be seen, that they can never be a happy couple who are continually planning tricks and hold- ing secrets from one another. Fifth. Among neighbours the evil of secrecy is the same; but this is generally its most fertile source. In all families there is a species of union, or unity of in- terest; but neighbours may be a] ways considered in a slate of civil hostility, it the term may be used, a sort of mental warfare, a canvassing of faults, a jea- lousy of greater prosperity, a system of backbiting, all of which becomes eventually useful in the aggregate, in the way of check on wrong doing, and in emulation to do well. The only improvement that offers in this case is, when there shall be free discussion, no secrecy, free communication of sentiment, and when emulation shall be turned to the channel of knowledge, each striving to outstrip the other in its acquisition. There is a prospective view of such a state of society, which promises to swallow up all paltry bickerings in the ardour for individual and general improvement. But the concealment of a pending injury towards a neighbour is a great vice, and argues a base passion ; it makes the concealer an accessary to the injury, be its character what it may. It is a bounden duty to communicate to a neighbour that injury is intended, or about to fall upon him : to hold the matter a secret, and to suffer it to happen, is a participation in the infliction. In the present stale of English society, secrecy among neighbours is common. Every little circle has its gossip, its talebearer, that has no more sjmpathy THE MORALIST. 117 for you than to learn your u.ipleasantries, and to com- muuieato them to each member of the circle as a most profound secret, with a most profound injunction that each is not to communicate it to the other! They are whispered over and discussed with as much gra- vity of fact, as if it were a state affair that interested millions! If this propensity to obtain and- communi- cate the secrets ol families and indi\iduals were turned to the acquisition and communication of useful know- ledge, how much better would time be spent i and how great the degree of annual improvement? These secrets are generally matters of the most contemptiide or indifferent kind : it is enough, if there be a sting in them calculated to wound the person to whom they apply. The propensity to deal in, or to dwell upon them, is a depravity of mind, a degradation of charac- ter, which all that is great or useful requires should be shaken off. The better employment of time is the acquisition of knowledge, an important subject open to (he grasp of every human being, Secrecy profits you nothing, but often obtains disgrace; whilst it is knowledge alone that ennobles mankind, and raises you above the brute to any height that you will pur- sue. Sixth and seventh : in sects and among parties, there is a sort of fundamental secrecy, that forms their stamina. There is an object concealed, wbicb does not resemble that which is preached as the cause of associating as a sect or party. There is some ad- vantage to be gained over other sects, or as a mono- poly of power, profit, or interest, with the lew or the leading persons who associate as a sect. In Free- masonry, for instance, there is a great cry of some profound secret among them : but the grand secret is, that they have no secret. There may be idle forms and ceremonies, as there are with most other sects; and there may be rules and regulations, for 118 THE MORALIST. giving peculiar aid, in peculiar cases, to each other, as there are in most other sects ; but beyond this, Ibere cannot possibly be a secret worth knowing to the whole of mankind ; for, bad there been such, it would certainly have been divulged ; no oath, no tie, would have kept it from the general knowledge. There is a supposition of a secret, which occasions an apparent mystery that it has never been divulged to the public, the whole of which has its foundation in the Tact, that there is no secret that can excite enough of interest to occasion its being divulged. The fidelity of a Freemason consists in the absence of all ground to make a breach of faith. It is possible that the junior members of the society might be led on step by step, under the supposition, that, by and by, they are to know some grand secret ; but it is a delu- sion ; the time never comes, and habit becomes the stimulant to perseverance, and to the practice of si- milar delusions upon others. Masonry originated in a very dark age, when there was, in fact, no knowledge among mankind, where- upon to found an important or valuable secret ; and, had it been the intention of some scientific accom- plishment, the progress of science, at that day, v. ould have left it a matter of insignificance. But, it is evi- dent, that Masonry does not consist in anything use- ful to mankind as a whole, or even to the members as a sect, or we should see them possessing superior ad- vantages, which we do not see ; we should see them superior in knowledge and manners to others, which we do not see. The writer has seen Masons as igno- rant and base as the most ignorant and base of man- kind ; but he does not know that be has ever known any thing pre-eminent in the knowledge or character of a Mason. The truth is— tbey are neither better nor worse for being Masons, and are on a level with the rest of mankind. It is evident, that Masonry THE MORALIST. 119 communicates no kind of useful knowledge; or it would be visible. Masons would be distinguished from others, which is not now (he case. Signs, forms, and ceremonies, peculiar to ihemselves, they may have ; but this is not worthy of being called a secret, every class of children are distinguished from every other class, by such signs, forms, and ceremonies. It must consist of one or two things — an idle and useless asso- ciation, or a monopoly of interest among its members. It is said, that Masonry inculcates benevolence, hu- manity, brotherhood, and all the virtues ; but all these virtues ought to be inculcated among mankind, in a more enlarged manner, and not under the denomina- tion of Masonry. If Masonry has benefits which are withheld from the mass of mankind, that withholding constitutes inhumanity, malevolence, and vice. If it has no such benefits, it is an idle and mischievous association. As wc are considering Masonry, more with refe- rence to its much boasted or much suspected secret than in any other sense, it may be observed, in the first place, that Masons are but men, that men are only distinguished in superiority one over another by the amount of their knowledge, by the distance at which their knowledge removes them from other ani- mals, that any secret of any importance could only exist in a matter of superior knowledge, that Ma- sonry originated in a very ignorant age, and that, therefore, there can be no secret worth the considera- tion of mankind at this time. We repeat the apparent contradiction, but the fact, as applying to Masonry, that, the grand secret is, that there is no secret. No- thing but this could have withstood the curiosity, the fickleness, and the characteristic inconstancy of man- kind. Cry up any thing as a mystery, and the igno- rant, ever delighted or excited with the marvellous, will make this a marvellous matter, whilst it either has 120 THE MORALIST. no meaning, or is a thing of Ihe most common occur- rence, when stripped of the names and strange quali- ties that have been given to it. Morality requires that there should be none of this deception upon the senses of the less discerning — that there should be no secrecy —that knowledge is an advantage which should be open and iree to all, and that no one should deceive any other one upon any pretences whatever. There are other sects equally objectionable, if not more so, than Freemasonry, and all professing to be bound by oaths and secrets: one more conspicuous than the rest for its violence and mischief, is the Orange sect in Ireland. The evil of secrecy was mani- fest in the case of this sect, in the late session of Par- liament, when, even the Legislature itself was set at nought by it. It is well known, that this is not an as- sociation for any moral purpose; in fact, it is wholly impracticable to form a sect for any great moral pur- pose. They have their foundation in narrow views, and if they benefit peculiarly any particular part of the community, they are found militating against the welfare of the remainder, and, as such, against the in- terest of the community as a whole. As viell as an in- dividual, or sectarian interest, that affords peculiar benefit to one or a few for a short time, there is a general interest, that operates most beneficially upon every individual ; and it is this latter, rather than the former, that we should study and strive to promote. In this general interest, nothing in the shape of se- crecy can be necessary; it is to be canied on by openness, candour, plain dealing, simplicity, by free discussion and communication of sentiment, in short, by every species of virtue, and by no species of vice. And the amount of individual benefit to be obtained by this general improvement, far exceeds any indivi- dual amount that can be obtained by any kind of sec- tarianism. THE MORALIST. 121 It is in sects, parties, and their secrecies, Ihat all the hostilities, civil wars, quarrels, disputes, and per- secutions, which distract mankind, originate. The formation of any sect or party is a violation of the lirst and great compact which constitutes a society, a community, a nation. In the first and great compact, there is no secrecy, there are no secret articles, no signs, no tricks, no triflings; harmony of interest is the end iu view ; which is frustrated by every attempt to form a sect. Hence it may be fully seen, that secret sects, or the secrets of sects and parties, are nation- ally injurious, and, as such, individually injurious; for, they form just so many impediments to improve- ment, benefits, and happiness. Eighth: In governments, secrecy is the great en- gine of injustice and misrule. Government can have no just foundation, but in a legislation and administra- tion of law for the welfare of the people as a whole: to be just and well-founded, it should be the main- spring of that general interest, distinguished from sec- tarian interest, mentioned under the last head. There ought not to be a single act of secrecy in any depart- ment of government: the very idea of the necessity of such a thing is an idea of bad government, where trick and fear go hand in hand ; it is a proof, that the per- sons officially engaged are carrying on some private trade for their own private benefit, and not acting as just stewards and faithful public sen ants. Government is now carried on as a matter of most profound secrecy and cunning ; and that is the reason why we no where see good government. If good was intended for the people as a whole, it would court exposure : it delights in openness, and, like truth, is never to be abashed in the face of a bold and honest person. Secrecy belongs to intrigue, cheat, false- hood, and chicane : where good is meant, it is not seen. 122 THE M011AL1ST. As all matters of government are, or ought to be, matters of national interest, it would be difficult to make out a good case where secrecy is necessary to that interest. The writer of this cannot conceive such a case; unless, in a state of warfare with some other nation, and that is a state that ought to be avoided by all possible means. Between two good go- vernments, it could not possibly occur; because, no benefit can arise from it to either. Ninth and last: Among nations there can be no just foundation for secrecy; for, as the number of indivi- duals make up the family, and the number of fami- lies the nation ; so the number of nations do but make up the great family of mankind. If hreaches and differences of manners do exist among them, they are generated by that variance which sects and secre- cies occasion in the first instance, and bad government in the second. Nations are but larger circles of fa- milies, and if sects and secrecies were abolished, and knowledge equalized, there would be the same har- mony among nations, as the best neighbourhood of families now exhibits. In cases of war only among nations, can secrecy be justified ; but as war itself is not justifiable, other than to repel injury, neither can secrecy be justified other than for the same purpose. Secrecies, as they regard scientific or medicinal dis- coveries, can be viewed but as evils. Many most va- luable discoveries have been made and lost, through the bad practice of secrecy, or through the fear of injury which the publication might bring on the individual who discovers and promulgates. The practice is an oppressive tax upon the knowledge of mankind, and one of the most injurious that can be imposed. There is something lamentable and asto- nishing in the idea, that knowledge should be im- peded: jet, nine-tenths of the whole human race THE MORALIST. 123 look upon it as an object of terror that should be shunned or destroyed ! The aggregate of these observations is, that secrecy can, in no case, be justifiable, but where it is used to repel an injury menaced : that keeping a secret does not constitute a virtue, because the general act of se- crecy is a vice : that it is wrong to lay the foundation of secrets, and most wrong to encourage another to do it, under the pretence of keeping them as sacred mat- ters. It is the pride of the writer that he has no secrets in bis mind, nothing necessarily secret. He feels quite at ease at the condition, and never under any kind of dread of discovery or exposure. It would be a pain to him to be made the depository of a secret; for he has long ranked secrecy among the vices of mankind. He understands, at present, that his view of the case is novel ; but he courts examination and all the criti- cism that can be made upon it. He has the improve- ment of mankind too much at heart, to be desirous of propagating error among them : to unfold error, to un- ravel the web of sophistry, to give stability to morality, to acquire and communicate knowledge, are his de- light and the business of his life. He is sensible, that what is good for one man is good for another, in a ge- neral view, and that secrecy, being a matter of con- cealment of something from some person, nothing but injury can be iutended, so far as the matter of secrecy concerns others, as well as the holder. A sense, a knowledge of this principle, seems to him to be ne- cessary to the laying of a foundation for pure morality. His view of the matter is now offered to the public ; but he will be happy to see it come under the pen of a more able hand, and himself promises further to con- sider and to enlarge upon it. 124 THE MORALIST. PROVERBS. (Continued from p. 112.) Chap. 12. He that giveth, let him do it with sim- plicity; he that ruleth, with diligence; he that sheweth mercy, with cheerfulness. Let love be without dis- simulation. Abhor that which is evil ; cleave to that which is good. Be kindly aftectioned one to another with brotherly love; in honour preferring one ano- ther; not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; re- joicing in hope ; patient in tribulation ; given to hos- pitality. Provide tilings honest in the sight of all men. If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peace- ably with all men. Be not overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good. Chap. 13. Render to all their dues. Thou shalt not commit adultery ; thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal ; thou shalt not bear false witness ; thou shall not covet. — Love worketh no ill to his neighbour; there- fore love is the fulfilling of the law. Let us walk honestly, as in the day ; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envy ing. Chap. u. Let us therefore follow after the things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify another. FIRST EPISTLE TO THE CORINTHIANS. Chap. 15. Be not deceived: evil communications corrupt good manners. Awake to righteousness and sin not. EPISTLE TO THE EPHESIANS. Chap. 4. Putting away lying, speak every one truth with his neighbour.--Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth. Let no corrupt communication THE MORALIST. 125 come out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying.— Let all bitlerness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice. — And be ye kind one to anotiicr, tenderhearted, forgiving one another. Chap. 5. See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as Cools, but as wise. And be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess. "Wives submit yourselves unlo your husbands. Hus- bands, love your wives. Chap. 6. Children, obey your parents, for this is right. Honour thy father and mother, that it may bo well witii thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth. And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath. Servants, be obedient to Hum that are jour masters. And ye masters, forbear threatening. — Stand there- fore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breast plate of righteousness. EPISTLE TO THE PHIL1PPIANS. Chap. 2. Let nothing be done through strife or vain glory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves. Chap. 4. Let your moderation be known unto all men.— Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest; whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, what- soever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. EPISTLE TO THE COLOSSIANS . Chap. 3. Lie not one to another. Above all things put on charity, which is the bond of perfccluess. Wives submit yourselves unto your husbands. Hus- bands, love your wives, and be not bitter against Uiera. Children, obey your parents in all things. 126 THE MORALIST. Servants, obey in all things your masters. And what- soever )e do, do it heartily. FIRST EPISTLE TO THE THF1SSALONIAXS. Chap. 4. Love one another— study to be quiet, to do jour owu business, and to work with your owu hands. Chap. 5. Warn them that are unruly, comfort the feeble minded, support the weak, be patient toward all men. See that none render evil for evil unto any man; but ever follow that which is good.— Prove all things ; hold fast that which is good. Abstain from all appearance of evil. EPISTLE TO TITUS. Chap. 2. Speak thou the things which become sound doctrine: that the aged men be sober, grave, tempe- rate, sound in faith, in charity, in patience. The aged women likewise, that they be in behaviour as becometh holiness, not false accusers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things: that they may teach the young- women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own hus- bands. Young men, likewise, exhort to be sober minded. In all things shewing thyself a pattern of good works : in doctrine shewing uncorruptness, gra- vity, sincerity, sound speech, that cannot be con- demned ; that he that is of the contrary part may be ashamed, having no evil thing to say of you. Ex- hort servants to be obedient unto their masters, and to please them well in all things : not purloining, but shewing all good fidelity. Chap. 3. Be ready to every good work. Spedk evil of no man. Be not brawlers, but gentle, shewing all meekness unto all men. EPISTLE TO THE HEBREWS. Chap. 13. Let brotherly love continue. To do good and to communicate, forget not. THE MORALIST. 127 EPISTLE TO JAMES. Chap. 1. A double minded man is unstable in all bis ways. Lay aside all filtbiness aud superfluity ol* naughtiness. SECOND EPISTIE OF PETER. Chap. l. Add to virtue knowledge, to knowledge temperance, to temperance patience. LONGEVITY. DIED, at Itlirington, I3tb June, Mr. Robert Bow- man, aged one hundred and eighteen, being born in the year l?oo, about two miles from the place of bis death. From early youth he had been a laborious worker, and was at all times health} and strong, having never taken medicine, nor been visited with any kind of illness except the measles when a child, and the hooping cough when he was above 100 years of age. During the course of his long life, he was ouly once intox- icated, which was at a wedding, and he never used tea or coffee. He had scarcely ever tasted ale or spi- rits, bis chief beverage being water, or milk and water mixed : this abstemiousness arose partly from a dis- like to strong liquors, but more from a .saving dispo- sition, being remarkably careful of his money, and strongly attached to the things of this world ; for the same reason, as he himself acknowledged, he uever used snuff or tobacco. With these views, his ha bits of industry and disregard of personal fatigue were extraordinary; having often been up for two or three nights in a week, particularly when bring- ing home coals or lime. His vigour never forsook him until far advauced in life; for, in his 10*th year, he walked to and from Carlisle (16 miles) with- out the help of a staff, to see the workmen lay the foundation of Eden bridge. In the same year he ac- 128 THE MORALIST. tually reaped corn, made bay, worked at hedging, and assisted in all the labours of tbe b'eld, with apparently as much energy as the stoutest of his sons. His me- mory was very tenacious. He remembered the rebel- lion of 1715, when he was ten years of age, and wit- nessed a number of men running away trom the dan- ger. In the second rebellion, in the year 1745, he was employed in cutting trenches round Carlisle; but fled from his disagreeable situation as soon as an op- portunity afforded for escaping. He did not marry till he was about 50 years of age, and his wife lived with him 51 years- dying in 1807, aged 81. In 1810 one of his brothers died at the age of 99, and in If 18 a cousin died, aged 95 ; another cousin is now living, 87 years old. He has left six sons, the youngest of whom is 50 years of age, and the eldest 62; his grand- children are 20 in number, and his great grand-children only 11. water versus WINE. Webb, the celebrated walker, who was remarka- ble for viguor both of body and mind, drank nothing but water. He was one day recommendinghis regimen to a friend who loved wine, and urged him with great earnestness to quit a course of luxury by which his health and his intellects would be equally destroyed. The gentleman appeared to be convinced, and told him that he would conform to his counsel, though he could not change his course of life at once, but would leave off strong liquors by degrees. " By degrees!" exclaims the other; " if you should unhappily fall into the fire, would you caution your servant to pull you out only by degrees?'' London : Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street. %%e JWoraKet No. 9, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON SWEARING AND COARSE AND OFFENSIVE SPEECH. Swearing, or any kind of coarse and offensive speech, is a vice of habit, often acquired by example ; but is a sure mark of bad passions in the person who uses it. It is an index to the mind and character, and admits of no excuse or palliation. It is one sure proof of ignorance ; for, as the object is to make impression by rash and forcible exclamations, the proof of a lack of ideas and proper words to express them is exhibit- ed. It should ever be remembered, that the right use of words is to express our ideas of things, and that any use of words beyond this is improper. Every kind of swearing, or coarse and offensive speech, is superfluous, and adds nothing to the delineation of a thing, as good or bad. It is a common notion, that to curse and swear, as a part of every sentence, is manly; but as far as the word manly implies and thing great or of mature un- derstanding, to curse and swear, or to use any kind of improper speech, is most unmanly, a proof that the speaker has not a mature understanding, and makes up in exclamation any gesticulation for the want of clear ideas and words to express tbem. To a correct mind, every souud of the kind is offensive, and, in good company, it is not tolerated. It will wear off", as the people become better educated; but the object of this paper is to advise those alio now adopt the low London: Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street 130 THE MORALIST. and degrading practice to drop it, to wean themselves from it as from a bad habit, and one that lessens their worth as members of society. Consider how horrid is the expression of calling for destruction of the eyes or body as a guarantee for the truth of a thing spoken or denied ? It adds no force to a simple affirmation or negation; but rather excites suspicion from an appa- rent over anxiety to have the matter believed as stated. It is worthy of consideration, that swearing origi- nated in the practice of making vows, and continued as a mere vow, until the doctrine of damnation was introduced by Christianity: since which, it has be- come the concomitant of the worst of passions, and damn me, damn you, damn him, damn her, damn them, &?c. have made a part ofspeech wilh Christians. The Grecians and Romans attested an assertion by introdu- cing the name of one of their idols: the Mahometan swears by Mahomet; but noueofthemhave so degraded themselves as the Christian world, and more particu- larly those of England, in calling for destruction upon themselves and others, as an attestation for the most idle and insignificant assertions. Where truth speaking is a habit, where it is consi- dered essential to good character, it is never supported by an oath to every assertion, and the habitual swearer is near akin to the habitual liar. The man, who prides himself upon a constant disposition to speak the truth, and what he thinks, feels no need of accompanying it with any violent assertions ; for, instead oT strength- ening a pledge, they must weaken it in every moral mind. They must be conscious of a disposition to lie, who are constantly backing their assurances with an oath. And, it is the little respect that is paid to truth, in common conversation, that makes an oath neces- sary in any case. A man's word, in England, is held to be of no legal value unless supported bv an oath ; which is still but a word, a pledge to speak the truth ; THE MORALIST. 131 and if his word be not good in the first instance, it is difficult to conceive how a double pledge can improve it, or render it more valuable, more to be relied upon. The practice of oath-making being required by law, seems to say, that the law allows lying in ordinary conversation : or that you may lie out of Court, but not in Court : and it is not altogether an unfair infe- rence to say, that an enforced oath -making in one casu generates the habit of coarse and common swearing in the other ; since the doctrine is held good, that the truth is stronger or more sure when the affirmation or negation is accompanied with an oath. The practice of swearing is not only offensive and vicious, but ridiculous — there is seldom any meaning attached to the words used — they are seldom either physically or grammatically correct. Specimens cannot be introduced for criticism in this work, as it would militate against the practice recommended, that as little vice as possible should be exhibited, even for reprobation, more being learned from example than invention ; but let each reader apply the test of cri- ticism to such offensive exclamations as he may hear, or be in the habit of using, and he will soon feel dis- gust, or grow ashamed of them: he will discover that the habit is lower than the barking of a cur, in the scale of intellect, and more brutal, less rational, thau any act or passion to be found among animals avowedly irrational. Children, unhappily, catch the habit, quite uncon- scious of the meaning of the words used in exclama- tion : they see them associated with did'erent gestures and passions, and try to imitate them as meritorious. By some persons they are encouraged in, actually taught, every expression in this foul vocabulary, and rewarded for the most forcible repetition ! Thus the bad practice is perpetuated from man to child, from childhood to manhood! How much more pleasant! 132 THE MORALIST. how much more delightful is it to hear, either child or man, slating a knowledge of persons and things in proper language, and with no words but such as are the real signs of the Ihingsignilied ! Women, too, degrade their sex, and exhibit them- selves in the characters of disgusting furies, by this abominable habit of swearing, and by the use of foul and improper words. Little do they calculate how much they lose of our affection, how far they compel us to despise them, by adopting this vulgar and vile habit ! It is impossible to feel a manly and mental love for a woman who can thus degrade herself. True and lasting love can only be generated by an amiability of manners ; all other pretensions to love are the momen- tary desires of lust, the periodical inflammation and combustion of our passions, which explode and be- come extinct untii newly charged, and which make us alternately hate and enjoy the objects of gratification. Let each reader reflect upon the use of such impro- per words, and it may be learnt that proper language is most forcible when most simply stated j and that no- thing is gained, but much of worth and respect is lost, by the inexcusable practice of swearing, cursing, or the use of any kind of foul and improper speech. As we distinguish ourselves from other animals by the fa- cultyof speech, we should be careful not to descend below them, by the abuse of that faculty. SELECTIONS FROM A LITTLE WORK, entitled, THE ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE. CONSIDERATION. Commune with thyself, O man j and consider where- fore thou wert made. THE MORALIST. 133 Contemplate thy powers, contemplate thy wants and thy connections ; so shalt thou discover the duties of life, and be directed in all thy ways. Proceed not to speak or to act, before then hast weighed thy words, and examined the tendency of every step thou shalttake: so shall disgrace ily far from thee, and in thy house shall shame be a stranger ; repentance shall not visit thee, nor sorrow dwell upon thy cheek. The thoughtless man bridleth not his tongue; he speaketh at random, and is entangled in the foolish- ness of his own words. As one that runneth in haste, and leapeth over a fence, may fall into a pit which he does not see ; so is the man that plungeth suddenly into any action, be- fore he hath considered the consequences thereof. Hearken, therefore, unto the voice of Considera- tion ; her words are the words of Wisdom ; and her paths shall lead thee to safety and truth. MODESTV. Who art thou, O man, that presumes! on thine own wisdom? or why dost thou vaunt thyself on thine own acquirements? The first step towards being wise, is to know that thou art ignorant; and if thou wouldst be esteemed in the judgment of others, cast off the folly of seeming- wise in thine own conceit. Asa plain garment best adorneth a beautiful wo- man, so a deeent behaviour is the greatest ornament of wisdom. The speech of a modest man giveth lustre to truth ; and the diffidence of his words excuseth his error. He relieth not on his own wisdom; he weigheth the 134 THE MORALIST. counsels of a friend, and receiveth the benefit thereof- He turneth away his ear from his own praise, and believeth it not : he is the last in discovering his own perfections. Yet, as a veil addeth to beauty; so are his virtues set off by the shade which his modesty casteth upon them. But behold the vain man, and observe the arrogant; he clotheth himself in rich attire, be walketh in the public street, he casteth round his eyes, andcourteth observation. He tosseth up his head, and overlooketh the poor ; he treateth his inferiors with insolence, and his su- periors in return look down on bis pride and folly with laughter. He despiseth the judgment of others ; he relietb on his own opinion, and is confounded. He is puffed up with the vanity of his imagination » his delight is to hear and to speak of himself all the day long. He swalloweth with greediness his own praise; and the flatterer in return eateth him up. APPLICATION. Since the days that are past are gone for ever, and those that are to come may not come to thee, it be- hoveth thee, O man, to employ the present time, with- out regretting the loss of that which is past, or too much depending on that which is to come. This instant is thine ; the next is in the womb of fu- turity, and thou knowest not what it may bring forth. Whatsoever thou resolvest to do, do it quickly : de- fer not till the evening what the morniog may accom- plish. THE MORALIST. 135 Idleness is the parent of want and of pain : but the labour of virtue bringeth forth pleasure. The hand of diligence defeateth want ; prosperity and success are the industrious man's attendants. Who is he that bath acquired wealth, that hath risen to power, that hath clothed himself with honour, that is spoken of in the city with praise, and that standeth before the King in his council? Even he that hath shut out Idleness from his house, and hath said unto Slolh, Tbou art mine enemy. He riseth up early, and lieth down late ; be exer. ciseth his mind with contemplation, and his body with action, and preserveth the health of both. The slothful man is a burden to himself; bis hours hang heavy on bis head ; he loitereth about, and kno w- eth not what he would do. His days pass away like the shadowof a cloud ; and he leaveth behind him no mark for remembrance. His body is diseased for want of exercise ; he wish- eth for action, but hath not power to move. His mind is in darkness j his thoughts are confused : be longeth for knowledge, but bath no application. He would eat of the almond, but bateth the trouble of breaking the shell. His house is in disorder; his servants are wasteful and riotous, and he runneth on towardsruin ; he seeth it with his eyes ,- he heareth it with his ears ; be shak- eth his head, and wishetb, but hath no resolution ; till ruin cometh upon him like a whirlwind, and shame and repentance descend with him to the grave. EMULATION. If thy soul tbirsteth for honour, if thy ear hath any pleasure in the voice of praise, raise thyself from the 136 THE MORALIST. dust whereof thou art made, and exalt thy aim to some- thing that is praise-worthy. The oak that now spreadeth its branches towards the heavens, was once but an acorn in the bowels of the earth. Endeavour to be first in thy calling, whatever it be; neither let any one go before thee in well-doing: ne- vertheless, do not envy the merits of another, but im- prove thine own talents. Scorn also to depress thy competitor by dishonest or unworthy methods j strive to raise thyself above him only by excelling him ; so shall thy contest for superiority be crowned with honour, if not with suc- cess. By a virtuous emulation the spirit of man is exalted within him ; he panteth after fame, and rejoiceth as a racer to run his course. He riselh, like the palm-tree, in spite of oppression ; and, as an eagle in the firmament of heaven, he soar- eth aloft, and fixeth his eye upon the glories of the sun. The examples of eminent men are in his visions by night, and his delight is to follow them all the day long. He formeth great designs ; he rejoiceth in the execu- tion thereof; and his name goeth forth to the ends of the world. But the heart of the envious man is gall and bitter- ness ; his tongue spitteth venom; the success of his neighbour breaketh bis rest. He sitteth in his cell repining; and the good that happeueth to another, is to him an evil. Hatred and malice feed upon his heart; and there is no rest in him. He feeleth in his own breast no love of goodness; and, therefore, believetb his neighbour is like unto himself. THE MORALIST. 137 He endeavours to depreciate those who excel him ; and putteth an evil interpretation on all their doings. lie lioth on the watch, and meditates mischief: but the detestation of man pursueth him ,- he is crushed as a spider in his own web. PRUDENCE. Hear the words of Prudence; give heed unto her counsels, and store them in thine heart. Her maxims are universal, and all the Virtues lean upon her ; she is the guide and the mistress of human life. Put a bridle on thy tongue; set a guide before thy lips; lest the words of thine own mouth destroy thy peace. Let him that scoffeth at the lame, take care that he halt not himself; whosoever speaketh of another's failings with pleasure, shall hear of his own witii shame. Of much speaking cometh repentance ; but in silence is safety. A talkative man is a nuisance to society ; the ear is sick of his babbling; the torrent of his words over- whelmeth conversation. Boast not of thyself, for it shall bring contempt upon thee: neither deride another, for it is dangerous. A bitter jest is the poison of friendship ; and he who restrains not his tongue, shall live in trouble. Furnish thyself with the accommodations proper to thy condition ; yet spend not to the utmost of what thou canst afford, that the providence of thy youth may be a comfort to thy old age. 138 THE MORALIST. Avarice is the parent of evil deeds ; but frugality is the sure guaidiao of our virtues. Let not thy recreations be expensive; lest the pain of purchasing them exceed the pleasure thou hast in tbeir enjoyment. FORTITUDE. Perils, and misfortunes, and want, and pain, and in- jury, are the lot of every man who comelh into the world. It behoveth thee, therefore, early to fortify thy mind with courage and patience ; that thou mayest support with resolution thy allotted portion of calamity. As the camel beareth labour, and heat, and hunger, and thirst, through deserts of sand, and fainteth not ; so a man of fortitude shall sustain his virtue through perils and distress. A noble spirit disdaineth the malice of fortune: his greatness of soul is not to be cast down. His happiness dependeth not on her smiles, and therefore with ber frowns he shall not be dismayed. As a rock in the sea he standcth firm ; and the dashing of the waves disturbeth him not. He raiseth his head like a tower on an hill ; and the arrows of fortune drop at his feet. In the instant of danger, the courage of his heart suslaineth him ; and the steadiness of his mind beareth him out. He raeeteth the evils of life as a man that gocth forth to battle; and returneth with victory in his hand. THE MORALIST. 139 Under the pressure of misfortunes, his calmness al- leviates their weight ; and by his constancy be shall surmount them. But the dastardly spirit of a timorous man betray- eth him to shame. By shrinking under poverty, he stoopeth down to meanness i and by tamely bearing insults, he inviteth injuries. As a reed is shaken with the breath of the air ; so the shadow of evil maketh him tremble. In the hour of danger he is embarrassed, and con- founded ; in the day of misfortune he sinketh, and de- spair overwhelmeth bis soul. CONTENTMENT. Forget not, O man, that thy station on earth is not of thine own appointment. Yet for all reasonable desires, for all honest endea- vours there is established, in the nature of things, a probability of success. The uneasiness thou feelest, the misfortunes thou bewailest ; behold the root from whence they spring, even thine own folly, thine own pride, thine own dis- tempered fancy. Murmur not, therefore, al the dispensations of Na- ture ; but correct thine own heart : neither say within thyself, If I had wealth, power, or leisure, I should be content. 140 THE MORALIST. TEMPERANCE. The nearest approach thou canst make to happiness on this side the grave, is to enjoy health, wisdom, and peace of mind. These blessings if thou possessest, and wouldst pre- serve to old age, avoid the allurements of Voluptuous- ness, and fly from her temptations. When she spreadeth ber delicacies on the board, when her wine sparkleth in the cup, when she smileth upon thee, and persuadeth thee to bejoyful and happy ; then is the hour of danger, then let Reason stand iirmly on her guard. For, if thou hearkenest unto the words of her ad- versary, thou art deceived, and betrayed. The joy which she promiseth, changeth to madness ; and her enjoyments lead on to diseases and death. Look round ber board, cast thine eyes upon ber guests, and observe those who have been allured by ber smiles, who have listened to her temptations. Are they not meagre ? are they not sickly ? are they not spiritless ? Their short hours of jollity and riot are followed by tedious days of pain and dejection she bath de* bauehed and palled their appetites, that they have now no relish for her nicest dainties : her votaries have be- come her victims; the just and natural consequence which nature hath ordained, in the constitution of things, for the punishment of those who abuse her gifts. But who is she, that with graceful steps, and with a lively air trips over yonder plain ? The rose blushcth on her cheeks ; the sweetness of the morning breatheth from ber lips ; joy, tempered THE MORALIST. 141 wilh innocence and modesty, sparkleth in her eyes ; and from the cheerfulness of her heart, she singeth as she walks. Her name is Health ; she is the daughter of Exer- cise, who begot her upon Temperance: their sons inhabit the mountains that stretch over the northern regions of San Ton Hoe. They are brave, active, and lively ; and partake of all the beauties and virtues of their sister. Vigour stringelh their nerves • strength dwelleth in their bones; and labour is their delight all the day long. The employments of their father excite their appe- tites, and the repasts of their mother refresh them. To combat the passions, is their delight ; to conquer evil habits, their glory. Their pleasures are moderate, and therefore they endure ; their repose is short, but sound and undis- turbed. Their blood is pure ; their minds are serene ; and the physician knoweth not the way to their habita- tions. But safety dwelleth not wilh the sons of men, neither is security found within their gates. Behold them exposed to new dangers from without, while a traitor within lurkelh to betray them. Their health, their strength, their beauty and ac- tivity, have raised desire in the bosom of lascivious Love. Shestandcth in her bower, shecourteih their regard, she sprearleth her temptations. Her limbs are soft, her air is delicate, her attire is loose; Wantonness speakelh in her eyes, and on her bosom sits Temptation) : she beckoneth them with her linger ; she wooeth them with her looks ; and by the smoothness of her tongue she endeavoureth to deceive. 142 THE MORALIST. Ah ! fly from her allurements ; stop thine ears to her enchanting words. If thou meetest the Ian- guishing of her eyes, if thou hearest the softness uf her voice, if she casteth her arms about thee, she bindeth thee in chains for ever. Shame followeth, and disease, and want, and care, and repentance. Enfeebled by dalliance, with luxury pampered, aud softened by sloth, strength shall forsake thy limbs, and health thy constitution ; thy days shall be few, and those inglorious ; thy griefs shall be many, yet meet with no compassion. M. DACIER S AND HIEROCLES S DUE MEASl RE FO] THE CULTURE OF BODY AND MIND. 'Twas of Pythagoras that Timseus learnt, that Na- ture has formed our body as an instrument, capable to obey and conform itself to all the different kinds of life ; and that as this instrument, in order to its being in a good condition, ought to be in health, to have a quickness of apprehension, strength, beauty, or a just proportion of all its parts ; so we ought likewise to adjust and accommodate the mind to the virtues that answer analogically to the qualities or accomplishments ©f the body. Thus we ought to give it temperance, which answers to health ; prudence, which answers to quickness of apprehension; courage, which an- swers to strength j and lastly, justice, which answers to the beauty or just proportion of the parts. — And that the principles of these advantages of the mind and of the body come indeed from nature, but THE MORALIST. 143 that Ihe progress and perfection of them come from education and care ; those of the body, by the means of exercise and physic, and those of the mind by means of philosophy : lor as Plato, in the beginning of his com- mentary on this treatise of Tiraaeus, says admirably well, the culture of the two parts of which we are composed (of the body and of the mind) is to give to each the food and motions that are proper for it. Body having been given us as an instrument for the life we are to lead, we ought neither to pamper it by too indulgent a treatment, nor to pinch and bring it low by too austere and sparing a diet ; fur the one and the other produce the same impediments, and hinder the use we ought to make of it. Therefore we are ex- horted to take a moderate care of it, and not to neglect it, neither when 'tis grown rebellious by too high a feeding, nor when 'tis mortified and brought down by sickness ; to the end, that being kept in the temper in which it. naturally ought to be, it may perform all the functions that the mind which guides it shall require of it. For the mind makes use of the body, and the body serves the mind. The workman, then, is obliged to take care of the instrument he employs; for 'tis not enough to desire only to make use of it, but all the reasonable and necessary care must likewise be taken, to keep it always in a condition to execute our orders. And because 'tis naturally in a continual stale of ge- neration, and of corruption, and seeing repletion and evacuation entertain and nourish it, sometimes ali- ment making good and repairing what is wasted, and sometimes exercise evacuating and carrying off what abounds, we ought to fix a due measure, as well of the nourishment that causes the repletion, as of the exer- cise that causes the evacuation. Andthis due measure is the reason that adapts the habitude of the body to the intellectual operations of the mind, and which, by 144 THE MORALIST. this means, takes such a care of the health of the body, as suits aud becomes a philosopher. This reasoo, therefore, will make choice of such food aud exercise, as will uot make the body too fat, nor hinder it from following the intellectual motions of the mind; for His not merely a body of which it takes care, but a body that is subservient to the mind. It, therefore, rejects the athletic regimen or course of life, because that takes care only of the body, without having any regard to the mind ; and it avoids all superfluous care of the body, as being entirely contrary to the intelli- gent light of the mind. But the regimeu of life, which, by the good habit it procures to the body, can most of all contribute to the requisite dispositions for learning the sciences, and to the performance of all good and honourable actions, is that which ought to be chosen by the man who is desirous to embrace the life of red- son, for to him these words are addressed, Now I call measure that which mil not incommode thee. Let not, then, the measure of the care thou takest of thy body incommode thee in the least; thou, who art a reasonable being, thou, who being an observer of all the precepts already given thee, art obliged to make choice of such drink, meat, and exercises, as will ren- der the body obedient to the commands of virtue, and as will not provoke the sensual and brutal part to be refractory and take head against reason that guides it : but this measure of the care that ought to be had of the body, must be proportioned with much attention and prudence, it being the first cause of all its inordi- nate desires; for the horse grows vicious, and takes head, only when he is fed too high, and not well ma- naged by his rider. London : Printed and Published by R. Carlilb, 84, Fleet-street. Wilt Jttatratttik No. 10, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON FRAUD. There is a distinction, bat it is merely nominal, be- tween fraud and theft, and the difference consists only in the mode of punishing the offence : to all other in- tents, purposes, and effects, a fraud is a robbery or theft. Inasmuch as the highway robber, who openly challenges the deliver} of money or the loss of life, though base, does not seem so base a character as the lurking assassin, who stabs first and robs after ; so also is the bold and open thief, though criminal, less base, than the person who slyly andcovertly defrauds. A fraudulent person is a lurking thief, that lies in wait for every opportunity to make improper gain ; whilst the open thief is more like the beast of prey or brute, that takes only to satiate the hunger of the moment. — The one is the thief of habit ; the other of occasional impulse or necessity. The degrees of fraud are incalculable: but for the purpose of this paper, they may be brought under three heads: — 1st. Offering an article for sale, pledging it to be of a value or quality which it has not, and thus, by a false representation, to seduce and deceive a purchaser. 2d. Voluntarily, as a friend, or obedient, as a ser- vant, to purchase for another, and to make a i'alse re- presentation as to the price given, for the sake of gain. 3d. Obtaining goods as credit, under false pretences —under a promise of disposition, capability, and inten- tion to pay, when neither disposition, capability, nor intention existed ; and when, throughout the concern, the intention of the fraudulent debtor has been, to de- fraud his creditors of the greatest possible amount of property. The second of these heads might have been placed under the first, by considering the friend or servant to be the actual seller, instead of an agent employed to London: Printed and Published byR. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street. 146 THE MORALIST. purchase ; and the case of both is too plain, as a fraud or theft, to ask for explanation, or to admit of reason- ing upon it. The only thing to be desired on the oc- casion is, a law to fine the offender for the amount of injury done, and expence incurred to prosecute. But the third head opens a field for discussion, or rather for reprobation. It has become the practice of the day, through the bad state of the law, for persons, under the denomination of getting into credit, to carry on a regular trade of fraud, to go through a periodical pretended insolvency, just at the moment when tbey are most solvent, when they have obtained the highest possible amount of credit. The merchant, the trades- man, or any other person, who accumulates property, or lives, by this process, is as great a thief as the high- way robber, and baser of the two, for he may be viewed as something between the open thief, and the lurking one, who assassinates before he robs. He is as much baser than the open thief, as a concealed enemy is baser than an open one. In most large towns, but in London in particular, there are established fraternities of these swindlers. — Two or three of them will open one or more of the most handsome shops, where every thing bespeaks wealth, solidity, and elegance. Each becomes a trust for the other, in recommendations to credit, and in putting forth what are called Accommodation Bills; and it is scarcely necessary to say, that their time of ex- istence under each identity is but short ; but, in that short time, their object is to do the greatest amount of mischief, and many thousand pounds are oftentimes accumulated by each nest of swindlers ; whilst the ho- nest, but poor tradesman, is kept poor by such prac- tices, and continually cramped for the want of sutb- cient capital to give energy to his industry and good disposition. These fraudulent practices of obtaining credit, wherever credit, can be obtained, have at length ex- tended through all classes ; and the writer has known many journeymen mechanics to traffic in accommoda- tion bills ! to get credit wherever credit could be ob- tained, and to be incessantly attending Courts of Re- quest, or decamping from place to place, as often as their credit ceased to be good. These men are all so many of the baser kind of thieves ; and had they been honest, they could have found no need of credit, whilst in full employ. Their fraudulent gains uni- formly ended in making them miserable, in driving THE MORALIST. 147 away those pleasures and benefits which honesty would have brought them. They robbed others to punish themselves! A man, who lias a regular weekly income, enn have no just ground to seek for credit ; or, if exceptions arise, in cases of sickness, or in extraordinary cases, he can have no just ground to make it a regular prac- tice. The motive, in such a case, cannot, by any possibility, be good; because, his income ought to be the controul or limit of his expenditure. The same principle applies to a quarterly, half yearly, or yearly salary, to any extent. Where "the salary or the income is fixed, the expenditure should be fixed ; and so fixed as to be enabled to pay on the receipt of goods for consumption ; and not to anticipate the income by a consumption beforehand. The system of seeking and obtaining credit, which is so common in this country, is the bane of public morals. Though many might be benefited, and though, in a connection with many honest persons, credit mignt be mutually advan- tageous ; still, the general system is a great evil, and tends to bring up thousands to habits of dishonesty: it encourages fraudulent traffic, urges many to Jive beyond their means, and may be properly termed one of the roads to ruin ; for, unhjppily, there are more than one. It passes, in this country, as a matter of no disgrace to go to prison for debt ; and though, in many cases, it may not be so, the major part of debtor prisoners are as fraudulent and criminal as convicted felons; and the evil will never be remedied until debtors are put upon trial as reputed thieves; or until the law refuses to interfere between tbe creditor and debtor; until the creditor shall have nothing to calcu- late upon but the integrity of his debtor. To punish the fraudulent debtor as a thief, or to abolish all po- litical laws relating to creditor and debtor, seems ab- solutely necessary to stay the traffic which has arises out of" the present practice. An alternative may be found in a prudent refusal to give credit; but, such is the competition in long established trades, khat a new tradesman, or housekeeper, finds persons ready to force their goods upon him, at ail hazards, and as if they were tired of keeping them : and to refuse to give credit, in a new business, seems a forbidding practice in the way of getting custom. At least, the fraudulent debtor shall be here told, that he is a baser character than the thief, who steals 148 THE MORALIST. at the stake of his life ; and that, if the law does not sufficiently punish him, by making him work himself out of debt in prison, he shall not be allowed to pass for an honest man, because he has been enabled, by the bad state of the law, to bid defiance to bis credi- tors. SELECTIONS FROM A LITTLE WORK, entitled, THE ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE. C Continued from p. 144.) HOPE AND FEAR. The promises of Hope are sweeter than the roses in the bud, and far more flattering to expectation ; but the threatening of Fear are a terror to the heart. Nevertheless, let not hope allure, nor fear deter thee from doing that which is right ; so shalt thou be pre- pared to meet all events with an equal mind. The terrors of death are no terrors to the good : re- strain thy hand from evil, and tby soul shall have no- thing- to fear. In all thy undertakings let a reasonable assurance animate thy endeavours ; if Ihou despairest of success, thou shalt not succeed. Terrify not thy soul with vain fears ; neither let thy heart sink within tbee from the phantoms of imagina- tion. From fear oroceedetb misfortune; but be that hopeth, helpeth himself. As the ostrich, when pursued, hitleth his head, but forgeietb his body, so the fears of a coward expose him to danger. It thou believest a thingimpossible, thy despondency shall make it so ; but he that persevereth, shall over- come all difficulties. A vain hope flattereth the heartof a fool ; but he that is wise, pursueth it not. In all thy desires let reason go before ihee; and fix not thy hopes beyond the bounds of probability ; so shaft success atte'nd thy undertakings, and thy heart shall not be vexed with disappointments. THE MORALIST. 149 JOY AND GRIEF. Let not thy mirth be so extravagant, as to intoxicate thy mind; nor thy sorrow so heavy, as to depress thy heart: this world all'ordeth no good so transporting, nor inflicteth any evil so severe, as should raise thee far above, or sink thee much beneath, the balance of moderation. Lo ! yonder standeth the house of Joy ; it is painted on the outside, and looketh gay ; thou mayst know it by the noise of mirth and exultation that issucth from it. The mistress standeth at the door, and ealleth aloud to ail that pass by; she singcth, and shouteth, and Jaugheth without ceasing. Seest thou not, that the angry man loseth his under- standing? whilst thou art yet in thy senses, let the madness of another be a lesson to thyself. Do nothing in thy passion ; why wilt thou put to sea in the violence of a storm ? If it be difficult lo rule thine anger, it is wise to pre- vent it : avoid, therefore, all occasions of falling into wrath ; or guard thyself against them, whenever they occur. A fool is provoked with insolent speeches ; but a wise man laugheth them to scorn. Harbour not revenge in thy breast: it will torment th v heart, and discolour its best inclinations. Be always more ready to forgive, than to return an injury : he that watches for an opportunity of revenge, lies in wait against himself, and draweth down mis- chief on his own head. A mild answer to an angry man, like water cast upon the fire, abateth his heat ; and from an enemy he shall become thy friend. Consider how few things are worthy of anger; and thou wilt wonder, that any but fools should be wroth. In folly or weakness it always beginneth ; but re- member, and be well assured, it seldom concludeth without repentance. On the heels of folly treadetb shame; at the back of anger standeth remorse. 150 THE MORALIST. PITY. As blossoms and flowers arc strewed upon the earth by the hand of spring, as the kindness of summer pro- duceth in perfection the bounties of harvest; so the smiles of pity shed blessings on the children of misfor- tune. He who pitieth another, recommendeth himself; but he who is without compassion, deserveth it not. The butcher relenteth not at the bleating of the lamb; neither is the heart of the cruel moved with dis- tress. But the tears of the compassionate are sweeter than dew-drops falling from roses on the bosom of the earth. Shut not thine ear, therefore, against the cries of the poor ; neither harden thine heart against the calami- ties of the innocent. When the fatherless call upon thee, when thewi- dow's heart is sunk, and she impioreth thy assistance with tears of sorrow ; O pity her affliction, and ex- tend thy hand to those vtho have none to help them. When thou seest the naked wanderer of the street shivering with cold, and destitute of habitation, let bounty open thine heart ; let the wings of charity shelter him from death, that thine own soul may live. Whilst the poor man groaneth on the bed of sick- ness, whilst the unfortunate languish in the horrors of a dungeon, or the hoary head of age lifts up a feeble eye to thee for pity ; O how canst thou riot in super- fluous enjoyments, regardless of their wants, unfeeling of their woes? DESIRE AND LOVE. Beware, young man, beware the allurements of wan- tonness ; and let not the harlot tempt thee to her de- lights. The madness of desire shall defeat its own pursuits ; from the blindness of its rage thou sbalt rush upon de- struction. Therefore give not up thy heart to her sweet entice- ments, neither suffer thy mind to be enslaved by her enchanting delusions. The fountain of health, which must supply the THE MORALIST. 151 stream of pleasure, shall quickly be dried up; aud everv spring of jov shall be exhausted. In the prime of thy life old age shall overtake thee ; thy sun shall decline" in the morning of thy days. But when virtue and modesty enlighten her charms, the lustre of a beautiful woman is brighter than the stars of heaven ; and the influence of her power it is in vain to resist. The whiteness of her bosom transcendeth the lily; her smile is more delicious than a garden of roses. The innocence of her eye is like that of the turtle; simplicity and truth dwell in her heart. The kisses of bar mouth are sweeter than honey ; the perfumes of Arabia breathe from her lips. Shut not thy bosom to the tenderness of Love ; the purity of its flame shall ennoble thine heart, and soften it to receive the fairest impressions. Consider, thou who art a parent, the importance of thy trust ; the being thou hast produced it is thy duty to support. Upon thee also it dependeth, whether the child of thy bosom shall be a blessing or a curse to thyself; a useful or a worthless member of the community. Prepare him with early instruction, and season his mind with the maxims oi truth. Watch the bent of his inclinations ; set him right in his youth : and let no evil habit gain strength with his years. So shall he rise like a cedar on the mountains; his head shall be seen above the trees of the forest. A wicked son is a reproach to his father ; but he that doth right is an honour to his grey hairs. The soil is thine own, let it not want cultivation ; the seed which thou sowest, that also shalt thou reap. Teach him obedience, and he shall bless tbee; teach him modesty, and he shall not be ashamed. Teach him gratitude, and he shall receive benefits ; teach him charity, and be shall gain love. Teach him temperance, and he shall have health ; teach him prudenee, and fortune shall attend him. Teach him justice, and he shall be honoured by the ^forld ; teach him sincerity, and his own heart shall not reproach him. 152 THE MORALIST. Teach him diligence, and his wealth shall encrease; teach him bene\olence, and his mind shall he ex- alted. Teach him science, and his life shall be useful; leach him morality, and his death shall be happy. From other animals let man learn wisdom, and ap- ply to himself the instruction they give. Go to the desert, my son ; observe the young stork of the wilderness ; let him speak to thy heart. He beareth on his wings his aged sire; he lodgetb him in safely and supplieth him with food. The filial piety of a child is sweeter than the incense of Persia offered to the sun ; yea more delicious than odours wafted from a field of Arabian spices by the western gales. Be grateful, then, to thy father, for ho gave thee life ; and to thy mother, for she sustained tbee. Hear the words of his mouib, for they are spoken for thy good ; give ear to his admonition, for it proceed- eth from love. He hath watched for thy welfare, be hath toiled for thy ease ; do honour tbere r ore to his age, and let not his grey hairs be treated with irreverence. Think on thy helpless infancy, and the frowardness of thy youth, aud indulge the infirmities of thy aged parents ; assist and support them in the decline of life. So shall their hoary heads go down to the grave in peace; and thine own children, in reverence of tby example, shall repay thy piety with filial love. BROTHERS. Ye are the children of one father, provided for by his care ; and the breast of one mother hath given you suck. Let the bonds of affection, therefore, unite thee with thy brothers ; that peace and happiness may dwell in thy father's house. THE MORALIST. 153 And, when ye separate in the world, r°mem'jcr the relation that bindeth you to love and unity : prefer not a stranger before thine own blood. If thy brother is in adversity, assist him; if thy sister is in trouble, forsake her not. So shall the fortunes of thy father contribute to the support of his whole race, and his care be. continued to you all in your love to each other. WISE AND IGNORANT. The gifts of the understanding are the fruits of in- dustry ; and every one has bis portion, in what mea- sure seemeth good unto himself. Hast thou endowed thee with wisdom? hast thou enlightened thy mind with the knowledge of truth ? communicate it to the ignorant for their instruction ; communicate it to the wise for their own improve- ment. True wisdom is less presuming than folly : the wise man doubteth often, and changeth his mind; the fool is obstinate, and doubteth not j he knoweth all things but his own ignorance. The pride of emptiness is an abomination, and to talk much is the foolishness of folly ; nevertheless it is the part of wisdom to bear the impertinence of fools, to hear their absurdities with patience, and pity their weakness. Yet be not puffed up in thine own conceit, neither boast of superior understanding ; the clearest human knowledge is but blindness and folly. The wise man feeleth his imperfections, and is hum- bled ; he laboureth in vain lor his own approbation. But the fool peepetb in the shallow stream of his own mind, and is pleased with the pebbles which he seeth at the bottom : he bringeth them up, and sheweth them as pearls; and with the applause of his brethren de- ligliteth he himself. He boasteth of attainments in things of no worth ; but where it is a shame to be ignorant, there he hath no understanding. Even in the paths of wisdom he toileth after folly; and shame and disappointment are the reward of his labour. But the wise man cultivatetb his mind with know- 154 THE MORALIST. ledge; the improvement of arts is bis delight; and their utility to the public crowneth him with honour. Nevertheless, Ibe attainment of virtue be accounl- eth as the highest learning; and the science of happi- ness is the study of* his life. RICH AND POOR. The man who hath riches, and a mind to employ them aright, is peculiarly favoured, and highly dis- tinguished. He btoketh on his wealth with pleasure ; because it affordeth him the means to do good. He protecteth the poor, that are injured ; he suffer, eth not the mighty to oppress the weak. He seeketb out objects of compassion ; he inquireth into their wants ; he relieveth them with judgment, and without ostentation. He assisteth and rewardctb merits ; he encourageth ingenuity, and liberally promoteth every useful de- sign. He carrieth on great works ; his country is en- riched ; and the labourer is employed ; he formelh new schemes and the arts receive improvement. He considereth the superfluities of his table as belonging to the poor, and lie defraudeth them not. The benevolence of bis mind is not checked by bis fortune. He rejoicelh therefore in riches, and bis joy is blameless. But woe unto him that heapeth up wealth in abun- dance, and rejoiceth alone in the possession thereof. That grindeth the face of the poor, and considereth not the sweat of their brows. He thriveth on oppression without feeling ; the ruin of his brother disturbetb him not. The tears of the orphan be drinkelh as milk; the cries of the widow are music to his ear. His heart is hardened with the love of wealth; no grief or distress can make impression upon it. But the curse of iniquity pursueth bim ; he liveth in continual fear. Theanxiety of bis mind, and the rapacious desires of his own soul, take vengeance upon him, for the calamities he hath brought upon others. O ! what are the miseries of poverty, in comparison with the gnawings of this man's heart! THE MORALIST. 155 Let the poor man comfort biniself, yea, rejoice ; Cor he hath many reasons. He sitteth down to his morsel in peace; his table is not crowded with flatterers and devourers. He is not embarrassed with dependents, nor teased with the clamours of solicitation. Debarred I'rom the dainties of the rich, he escapeth also their diseases. The bread that he eateth, is it not sweet to his taste ? the water he drinketh, is it not pleasant to his thirst ? yea far more delicious than the richest draughts of the luxurious. His labour preserveth his health, and produceth him a repose, to which the downy bed of sloth is a stranger. He limiteth his desires with humility ; and the calm of contentment is sweeter to his soul than the acquire- ments of wealth and grandeur. Let not the rich therefore presume on his riches, nor the poor despond in his poverty : for nature dis- penseth happiness to them both; and the distribution thereof is more equally made, than the fool can be- lieve. MASTERS AND SERVANTS. Repine not, Oman, that thou servest another : it is the appointment of necessity, and hath manv advan- tages ; it removeth thee from the cares and solicitudes of life. The honour of a servant is his fidelity ; his highest virtues are submission and ob dience. Be patient therefore under the reproofs of thy mas- ter; and when he rebuketh thee, consider the silence of thy resignation shall not be forgotten. Be studious of his interests , be diligent in his af- fairs; and faithful to the trust which he reposeth in thee. Thy time and thy labour belong unto him ; defraud him not thereof, for he payeth thee for ihero. And thou who art a master, be just to thy servant, if thou expeetest fidelity ; be reasonable in thy com- mands, if thou expeetest obedience. The spirit of a man is in him ; severity and rigour, which create fear, cannot command love. Mix kindness with reproof, and reason with au- 156 THE MORALIST. thority ; so shall thy admonilions take place in his heart, and his duty shall become his pleasure. lie shall serve thee faithfully from gratitude; he shall obey thee cheerfully from love ; and fail not thou in return to give his diligence and fidelity their just reward. MAGISTRATES AND SUBJECTS. O thou, the favourite of heaven, whom the sons of men, thy equals, have raised to sovereign power, and set as a ruler over themselves : consider the ends and importance of their trust, far more than the dignity and height of thy station. Thou art clothed in purple ; thou art seated on a throne ; the rrown of majesty investeth thy temples ; the sceptre of power is placed in thy hand : but not for thyself were these ensigns given ; not meant for thy own, but the good of thy kingdom. The glory of a king is the welfare of his people ; his power and dominion resteth on the hearts of his subjects. The mind of a great prince is exalted with the gran- deur of his situation ; he revolvcth high things, and searcheth for business worthy of his power. He calleth together the wise men of his kingdom ; he consultcth amongst them with freedom, and hear- eth the opinion of them all. He looketh among his people with discernment; he discovereth the abilities of men, and employeth them according to their merits. His magistrates are just ; his ministers are wise ; and the favourite of his bosom deceiveth him not. He smileth on the arts, and they flourish ; the sci- ences improve beneath the culture of his hand. With the learned and ingenious he delighteth him- self; be kindleth in their breasts emulation ; and the glory of his kingdom is exalted by their labours. The spirit of the merchant, who exteudeth his com- merce, the skill of the farmer, who enricheth bis lands, the ingenuity of the artist, the improvements of the scholar, all these he honoureth with his favour, or re- wardeth with his bounty. He planteth new colonies; he buildeth strong ships ; he openeth rivers for convenience; he forme th har- THE MORALIST. 157 hours for safety ; his people abound in riches ; and the strength of his kingdom increaseth. He frameth his statutes with equity and wisdom; his subjects enjoy the fruits ol their labour in security, and their happiness consists in their observance of the law. He foundeth his judgments on the principles of mercy ; but in the punishment of offenders he is strict and impartial. His ears are open to the complaints of his subjects ; he restraineth the hand of oppressors ; and delivercth them from their tyranny. His people therefore look up to him as a father, with reverence and love ; they consider him as the guardian of all they enjoy. Their affection unto him begetteth in his breast a love of the public ; the security of their happiness is the object of his care. No murmurs against him arise in their hearts ; the machinations of his enemies endanger not his state. His subject? are faithful and firm in his cause , they stand in his defence as a wall of brass. The army or his enemy flieth before them as chatT before the wind. Security and peace bless the dwellings of his peo- ple ; and glory and strength encircle his throne for ever. The peace of society dependeth on justice; the hap- piness of individuals on the certain enjoyment of all their possessions. Keep the desires of thy heart, therefore, within the bounds ol moderation ; let the hand of justice lead them aright. Cast not an evil eye on the goods of thy neighbour ; let whatever is his property, be sacred from thy touch. Let not temptation allure, nor any provocation ex- cite thee to lift up thy hand to the hazard of his life. Defame him not in his character; bear no false wit- ness against him. Corrupt not his servant to cheat or forsake him; and the wife of his bosom, O tempt not to sin. 'Twill be a grief to his heart, which thou canst not 158 '1112, MORALIST. relieve; an injury to his life, which no reparation can atone. In thy dealings with men be impartial and, just ; and do unto them, as thon wouldst they should do unto thee. Be faithful to thy trust; and deceive not the man who relieth upon thee: be assured, 'tis less to steal than to betray. Oppress not the poor, and defraud not of his hire the labouring man. When thou sellest for gain, hear the whisperings of conscience; and be satisfied with moderation: nor from the ignorance of the buver make advantage to thyself. Pay the debts which thou owest ; for he who gave thee credit, relied upon thy honour; and to withhold from him his due, is both mean and unjust. Finally, O son of society, examine thy heart ; call remembrance to thy aid: and, if in any of these things thou findest thou hast transgressed, take sorrow and shame to thyself; and make speedy reparation to the utmost of thy power. Happy is the man who hath sown in his breast the seeds of benevolence ; the produce thereof shall be charity and love. From the fountain of his heart shall rise rivers of gooduess ; and the streams shall overflow for the bene- fit of mankind. He assisteth the poor in their trouble ; he rejoiceth in furthering the prosperity of all men. He censureth not his neighbour; he believeth not the tales of envy and malevolence ; neither repeateth he their slanders. He forgiveth the injuries of men ; he wipeth them from his remembrance; reveqge and malice have no place in his heart. For evil he returneth not evil ; he hateth not even his enemies ; but rcquiteth their injustice with friendly admonition. The grieis and anxieties of men excite his compas- sion ; he endeavourelh to alleviate the weight of their THE MORALIST. 159 misfortunes; and the pleasure of success rewarded* bis labour. He calmetb the fury, he healelh the quarrels of augrj men ; and preventelb the mischiefs of strife and animosity. He promoteth in his neighbourhood peace and good will ; and his name is repeated with praise and bene- dictions. GRATITUDE. As the branches of a tree return their sap to the root, from whence it arose ; as a river poureth his streams to the sea, whence bis spring was supplied ; so the h-artof a grateful man delighteth in returning a benefit received. • He acknowledged! his obligation with cheerfulness; he luoketh on his benefactor with love and esteem. And, if to return it be not in his power, he nourish- ed! the memory of it in his breast with kindness ; he forgettcth it not all the days ol his life. The hand of the generous man is like the clouds of heaven, which drop upon the earth fruits, herbage, and flowers : the heart of the ungrateful is like a de- sert of sand, which swalloweth with greediness the showers that fall, but burieth them in his bosom, and produced! nothing. Envy not thy benefactor ; neither strive to conceal the beueiit he hath conferred: lor though to oblige is better than to be obliged, though the act of generosity commaudcth admiration; yet the humility of gratitude touched) the heart, and is amiable in the sight of man. But receive not a favour from the band of the proud ; to the selfish and avaricious have no obligation: Ihv vanity of Pride shad expose thee to shame ; the gree- diness of Avarice shall never be satisfied. SINCERITY. O thou that art enamoured with the beauties of truth, and bast fixed thy heart on the simplicity of her 160 THE MORALIST. charms, hold fast thy fidelity unto her, and forsake her not : the constancy of thy virtue shall crown thee with honour. The tongue of the sincere is rooted in his heart; hypocrisy and deceit have no place in his words. Heblusheth at falsehood, and is confounded ; but in speakingthe truth, he halh a steady eye. He supporteth as a man the dignity of his character; to the arts of hypocrisy he scorneth to stoop. He is consistent with himself j he is never embar- rassed ; he hath courage in truth, but lo lie he is afraid. He is far above the meanness of dissimulation ; the words of his mouth are the thoughts of his heart. Vet with prudence and caution he openeth bis lips : he studieth what is right, and speaketh with discre- tion. He adviseth in ♦ friendship ; he reproveth with free- dom ; and whatsoever he promiseth, shall surely be performed. But the heart of the hypocrite is hid in his breast.— He masketh his words in the semblance of truth, while the business of his life is only to deceive. He laugheth in sorrow j he weepeth in joy ; and the words of his mouth have no interpretation. He worketh in the dark as a mole, and fancielh he is safe: but he blundereth into light, and is exposed to full view with his dirt on his head. He passeth his days in perpetual constraint; his tongue and his heart are for ever at variance. He laboureth for (he character of a righteous man ; and huggeth himself in the thoughts of his cunning. O fool, fool ! the pains which thou takest to hide what thou art, are more than would make thee what thou wouldst seem : the children ol wisdom shall mock at thy cunning : and when thy disguise is stripped oil) the finger of derision shall point thee to scorn. (To be continued.) London : Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street. Wi>t JWoralfet No. 11, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON GLUTTONY. Where one person meets a premature death from the want of a sufficiency of food, one thousand might be found to have met such a death by the practice oi* load- ing their stomachs with too great a quantity. The most wholesome quantity of food, is the smallest by which the individual can feel that he keeps himself in health and strength; each person must be the best judge for himself, as to what is that quantity, and should be constantly experimenting upon the subject. There can be no fixed quantity ; different bodies, dif- ferent seasons, different climates, different employ- ments, and different states of health, will require dif- ferent quantities; but nothing is more easily ascer- tained by each individual, than what is the proper quantity for himself. The writer wishes to every per- son that proper quantity; and in wishing that each should ascertain it for himself, he wishes to each the greatest amount of happiness and true pleasure that can befal him. There is one criterion as to quantity, and that is, that whatever appeases hunger, or the craving of the stomach, as often as that craving is felt, is the proper quantity : and that all beyond that quan- tity is not only superfluous, but mischievous and pro- ductive of pain, by clogging the juices and impeding their healthy action in and througu the body: by dis- posing the individual to indolence and too much sleep ; and if he moves, by making him feel as if he carried a load about him. The degree of this kind of sensation will correspond with the degree of superfluous matter in the stomach. The process by which superfluity produces pain and ill health, is this: In the stomach, there is a liquid called the gastric juice, of a very powerful nature, London: Printed and Published by R. Carule, 84, Fleet-street. : 162 THE MORALIST. which reduces to a milky palp every kind ol'solid food that is to pass through the body, and thus prepares it for that passage. If the quantity of matter thrown upon the stomach be loo great for the powers of this juice to reduce in due time, two things will follow— a great pain of the stomach or head, or an ejection, a vomiting of the superfluous quantify— an unnatural motion, which is both painful and dangerous, and which!, for a time, deranges the regular motion of the whole frame. If it remains on the stomach, pains of different kinds will be felt, arising from the inefficient indigestion: and the intended food, instead of being rightly prepared to feed the body, is made to feed all its distempers, by generating foul blood and foul juices of evi-ry kind. A continuance in the practice of over- loading the stomach, increases the quantity and changes the quality of the gastric juice ; and thus we sec per- sons of this kind subject to bilious head-aches, bilious fevers, and bilious faces, but more distinguishable by the yellow hue in and about the eyes. The stomach accustomed to superfluity for a length of time, craves it, and thus is accounted lor the capacity of gluttons to swallow such large quantities : whilst the temperate feeder, who regularly supplies his stomach, feels no- thing of painfui hunger; but with uniform health, he feels a lightness, activity, and strength, which the more foul feeder never feels: hence it follows, tiial the small- est quantity which will support this state of uniform health, activity, and strength, is the most wholesome ; which every individual may ascertain by a little expe- riment, by trying the effects of different quantities. This is not exactly a subject wherein to introduce observations on the qualities of different kinds of food ; but it is as easy for each person to experiment upon the qualities as upon the quantities ; to tind out what kinds of food afford him Ihe greatest amount of health and strength. When it is recollected that the purpose, the end of food, is not so much to gratify the palate, as to preserve the body in health and strength, as free from pain as possible, it is seen that both the qualities and the quantities are proper matters for consideration ; and that person does not deserve to be called rational, who, for the gratification of his palate, subjects himself lo constant pain and perpe- tual disease. He encourages a war between his senses, and himself is on all sides the sufferer. Louis Cornaro, an Italian, had passed the meridian of life in a very sickly state, and subject to constant THE MORALIST. 163 pains of various kinds. By some accident, lie was in- duced to lessen the quantity, as well as the quality of Ins food, at a time when he despaired of a much longer continuation of life. He soon found that he had at- tained a state of health of which his former life had riven him no hope; and, instead of dying- between forty and fifty, he approached ninety years of age, living without pain, and dying without disease, as a man falls asleep in his armed chair. He states, in his account of his mode of dieting himself, that fourteen ounces of wholesome and simple food was the outride of his consumption, in one day; and that, on ti: • average, he varied from twelve to fourteen ounces. This quantity is not recommended to any person, unless a similar person should derive a similar advan- tage from it. A stronger and more healthy person would certainly lind a greater advantage from a greater quantity. Gluttony has all the evils of drunkenness, save the one of losing the reasoning faculty, occasioned by the influence of alcohol on the nerves. It has the same, and even a greater tendency to produce apoplexy ; inasmuch as solid food does not pass so quickly through the body as that which is taken as a liquid. "It gene- rates greater immediate pains than drunkenness, and all the s\mptoms of disease in the event; but it is a vice more common with the rich than the poor, the latter not being able to procure the quantity of food required to eousitute it, and too often sacrifice more .solid food to waste their money in water adulterated v. ith different kinds of poison: for such may be con- s/tdcred all maltand spirituous liquors. To the water- drinker, the most delightful beverage is the pure an'd simple water; all other to him is water adulterated, poisoned. Mankind are more affected by the improper quanti- ties and qualities of their food'than is generally un- derstood. They are constantly subject to different kinds of pain and disease, and know no more than the fess rational animals, to what they may be attributed. But they may be all attributed to too much or too little food, bad qualities of the food, bad air, or too much or too little exercise. By the word food is here meant, whatever is thrown upon the stomach ; and, in this sense, the air is food; though bad air, or food, acts as a poison. The human animal is like every other ani • mal and vegetable ; if it be fed with the proper matter, it thrives and is health} ; if not, it is blighted and pre- 164 THE MORALIST. maturely dies. There is in each an assignable period of lite; but there is a means of extending, as well as a means of curtailing, that period ; and to extend it, so as to live free from pain, is the right and rational busi- ness of* mankind. Other animals and vegetables are unconsciously acted upon; but, in matters of temper" ance and the choice of proper food, where they have alike a variety and a plenty, they, in general, act with more rationality and self-interest than is found in man- kind. Diseases are rarely found among wild animals ; and if we approached nearer to their examples of tem- perance, we should find the same effect. SELECTIONS FROM A LITTLE WORK, entitled, THE ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE. ( Continued from p. 160. ) BENEVOLENCE. When thou considerest thy wanls, when thou be. boldest thy imperfections, acknowledge the goodness, of Nature O man ! who honoured thee with reason, en- dowed thee will) speech, and plated thee in society to receive and confer reciprocal helpsand mutual obliga- lioits. Thy food, thy clonthing, thy convenience of habi- tation, thy protection from the injuries, thy enjoy- ment of the comforts and the pleasures of life, thou owest to the assistance of others ; and could not enjoy but in the bands ol soeiety. It is thy duty therefore to be friendly to mankind, as itis thy interest that men should be friendly to thee. As the rose breatheth sweetness from its own nature, so the heart of a benevolent man produceth good works. He enjoyeth the ease and tranquillity of his own breast ; and rejoiccih in thebappinevs and prosperity ol his neighbour. He openeth not his ear unto slander ; the faults and the failings of men give pain to his heart. THE MORALIST. 165 His desire is lo do good, and lie searchcth out the occasions thereof: in removing the oppression of another he reltevetli himself. From the largeness of his mind he comprehendith in his wishes the happiness of all men ; and from the generosity of his heart he endeavoureth to promote it. Give ear, fair daughter of lore, to the instructions of prudence, and let the precepts of truth sink deep in thine heart : so shall the charms of thy mind add lustre to thy form ; and thy beauty, like the rose it resemhleth, shall retain its sweetness when its bloom is withered. In the spring of thy youth, in the morning of thy days, when the eyes ol men gaze on thee with delight — ah ! hear with caution their alluring words, guard well thy heart, nor listen to their soft seducements. Remember, thou art made man's reasonable com- panion, not the slave of his passion; the end of thy being is to assist him in the toils of life, to soothe him with thy tenderness, and recompence his care with soft endearments. Who is she that winneth the heart of man, that sub- dueth him to love, and reigneth in his breast ? Lo ! yonder she walketh in maiden sweetness, with innocence in her mind, and modesty on her cheek. Her hand seeketh employment; her foot delighteth not in gadding abroad. She is cloathed with neatness, she is fed with tem- perance ; humility and meekness are as a crown of glory encircling her head. On her tongue dwellcth music j the sweetness of honey flowcth from her lips. Decency is in all her words; in her answers are mildness and truth. Submission and obedience are the lessons of her life ; and peace and happiness are her reward. Before her steps walketh prudence ; and virtue at- tendeth at her right hand. Her eye speaketh softness and love ; but discretion with a sceptre sittcth on her brow. 166 THE MORALIST. The tongue of the licentious is dumb in her pre- sence ; the awe of her virtue keepcth him silent. When scandal is busy, and the fame of her neighbour is tossed from tongue to tongue, if charity and good nature open not her mouth, the finger of silence rest- eth on her lip. Her breast is the mansion of goodness ; and there- fore she suspecteth no evil in others. Happy were the man that should make her his wife ; happy the child that shall call her mother. She presideth in the house, and there is peace ; she commandeth with judgment, and is obeyed. Sheariseth in the morning, she considereth her af- fairs, and appointeth to every one their proper busi- ness. The care of her family is her whole delight ; to that alone she applieth her study ; and elegance with fru- gality isseen in ber mansion. The prudence of her management is an honour to her husband ; and he heareth her praise with silent delight. She informeth the minds of her children with wis- dom ; she fashioneth their manners from the example of her own goodness. The word of her mouth is the law of their youth ; the motion of her eye commandeth their obedience. She speaketh, and her servants fly; she appoint- eth, and the thing is done. For the law of love is in their hearts: ber kindness addelh wings to their 'feet. In prosperity she is not puffed up ; in adversity she healeth the wounds of fortune with patience. The troubles of her husband are alleviated by her counsels, and sweetened by her endearment; he putteth his heart in her bosom, and receiveth comfort. Happy is the man that hath made ber his wife ; happy the child that calleth her mother. - Take unto thyself a wife, and obey the ordinance of nature— take unto thyself a wife, and become a faithful member of society. But examine with care, and fix not suddenly : on thy THE MORALIST. 167 present choice depends Hie future happiness of thee and thy posterity. If much of her time is destroyed in dress and adorn - menfs, if she is enamoured wilfi her own beauty, and delighted with In r own praise, if she Jaughcth'much, and talkcth aloud, If her foot abideth not in her father's house, and her eyes with boldness rove on the faces nf. men ■ though her beauty were as the sun in the firmament of heaven, turn thine eyes from her charms, turn thy feet from her paths, and" suffer not thy soul to be ensnared by the allurements of thy imagination. But when thou lindest sensibility of heart joined with softness of manners, an accomplished mind with a form agreeable to thy fancy, take her home to thy house ; she is worthy to be thy friend, thy companion in life, the wife of thy bosom. Oh cherish her as a blessing- ; let the kindness of thy behaviour endear thee to her heart. She is the mistress of thy bouse ; treat her therefore with respect, that thy servants may obey her. Oppose not her inclination without cause ; she is the partner of thy cares— make her also the companion of thy pleasures. Reprove her faults with gentleness ; exact not her obedience with rigour. Trust thy secrets in her breast; her counsels are sincere — thou shah not be deceived. Be faithful to her bed, for she is the mother of thy children. When pain and siekness assault her, let thy tender- ness soothe her affliction; a look from thee of pity and love shall alleviate her grief, or mitigate her pain, and be of more avail than ten physicians. Consider the delicacy of her sex, the teuderness of her frame ; and be not severe to her weakness, but remember thine own imperfections. OF THE USE OF THE SENSES. Vaunt not of thy body, because it was first formed ; nor of thy brain, because therein thy soul resideth. Is not the master of the house more honourable than its walls ? 168 THE MORALIST. The ground must be prepared before corn be plant- ed; the potter must build his furnace before he can make bis porcelain. Thy mind is the monarch of tby frame; suffer not its subjects to rebel against it. Thy body is as the globe of the earth ; thy bones the pillars that sustain it on its basis. As the ocean giveth rise to springs, whose waters re- turn again into its bosom through the rivers ; so run- neth thy life from the heart outward, and so returned! it into its place again. Is not thy nose the channel to perfumes? thy mouth the path to delicacies ; yet know thou, that perfumes long smelt become offensive; and delicacies destroy the appetite they flatter. Are not thtno eyes the sentinels that watch for thee? yet how often are they unable to distinguish truth from error! Keep, then, thy mind in moderation, teach thy spirit to be attentive to its good; so shall these its ministers be ever unto tbee conveyances of truth. Thine hand, is it not wonderful? Is there in the creation aught like unto it ? wherefore was it given thee but that thou mightest stretch it otit to the assistance of thy brother? Why, of all things living, art thou alone made capa- ble oCblushirigr The world shall read thy shame upon thy face, therefore do nothing shameful. Fear and dismay, why rob they thy countenance of its ruddy splendour? Avoid guilt, and thou shall know that fear is beneath tbee, that dismay is unmanly. Teach thy children wisdom ; instruct the offspring of thy loins in morality. OF THE PERIOD AND USES OF El'MAM LIFE. As the eye of the morning to the lark, as the shade of the evening to the owl, as honey to the bee, or as the carcase to the vulture, even such is life unto the heart of man. Though bright, it dazzleth not ; though obscure, it displeasethnot; though sweet, it cloyeth not; though corrupt, it forbiddelh not; yet who is he that knowetb its true value? THE MORALIST. 169 Learn to esteem life as thou oughtest; then art tbou near the pinnacle of wisdom. Think not with the fool that nothing is more ralua- ble, nor believe with the pretended wise, that thou oughtest to condemn it : love not life for itself, but for the good it may be of to others. Gold cannot buy it for thee, neither can mines of diamonds purchase back the moments thou hast now lost of it : employ thy succeeding ones in virtue. As the bird enclosed in the cage before he seeth it, yetteareth not bis flesh against its sides ; so neither labour thou vainly to run from the state thou art in, but know it is allotted thee, and be content with it. Though its ways are uneven, yet are they not all painful : accommodate thyself to all ; and where there is least appearance of evil, suspect the greatest dan- ger. When thy bed is straw, thou sleepest in security ; but when thou stretchest thyself on roses, beware of the thorns. A good death is better than an evil life; strive to live therefore as long as thou oughtest, not as long as thou canst ; while thy life is to others worth more than thy death, it is thy duly to preserve it. Complain not with the fool of the shortness of thy time; remember that with tby days thy cares are shortened. Take from the period of thy life the useless parts of it, and what remaineth? Take. oft' the time of thine infancy, the second infancy of age, thy sleep, thy thoughtless hours, thy days of sickness; and even at the fulness of years, how few seasons hast tbou truly numbered! To what end, O child of sorrow ! wouldst thou live longer? To breathe, to eat, to seethe world? All this thou hast done often already : too frequent repe- tition, is it not tiresome, or is it not superfluous ? Wouldst tbou improve thy wisdom and thy virtue ? Alas ! what art thou to know, or who is that shall teach thee ? Badly thou employest the little thou hast; dare not therefore to complain that more is not given thee. Repine not at the want of knowledge — it must pe- rish with thee in the grave; he honest. Say not unto the crow—" Why numberest thou seven times the age of thy lord?" or to the fawn — M Why are thine eyes to see my offspring to an bun- I/O THE MORALIST. dred generations?" — Are these to be compared with thee in Iheabuseoflife? Are they riotous ? Arcthev cruel ? Are they ungrateful ? Learn from them rather that innocence of life, and simplicity of manners, are the paths to a good old age Knowcst thou to employ life better than these ; then less of it may suffice tbee. Man. who dares enslave the world, when he knows that he can enjoy his tyranny but for a moment, what would he not aim at, were he immortal ? Enough hast thou of life, but thou regardest not : thou art not in want of it, O man ! but thou art pro- digal : thou throwest it lightly away, as if thou hadst more than enough ; and yet thou repinest that it is not gathered again uuto thee. Know that it is not abundance which maketh rich, but economy. The wise continueth to live from his first period; the fool is always beginning. Labour not after riches first, and think thou after- wards wilt enjoy them : he who neglectelh the present moment, throweth away all that he hath : as the ar- row passeth through the heart while the warrior knew not that it was coming, so shall his life be taken away before he knoweth that he hath it. What then is life, that man should desire it? and what is breathing, that he should covet it ? Is it not a scene of delusion, a series of misadven- tures, a pursuit of evils linked on all sides together ? In the beginning it is ignorance, pain is in its middle, and its end is sorrow. As one wave pusheth on another, till both are in- volved in that behind them ; even so succeedeth evil to evil in the life of man: the greater and the present swallow up the lesser and the past. Our terrors are real evils } our expectations look forward into impro- babilities. Fools, to dread as mortals, and to desire as if im- mortal ! What part of life is it that we would wish to remain with us ? Is it youth ? Can we be in love with out- rage, licentiousness, and temerity?— Is it age ? then are we fond of inlirmities? It is said grey hairs are revered, and in length of days is honour. Virtue can add reverence to the bloom of youth ; and without it, age plants more wrinkles in the' soul than on the forehead. Is age respected because it bateth riot ? What jus- THE MORALIST. 171 ticc is in this, * hen it is not age that despiseth plea- sure, hut pleasure that despiseth age ? Be virtuous while thou art young, so shall thine age he honoured. Inconstancy is powerful in the heart of man : intem- perance swny"ethit whither it will: d« spair cngrosselh much of it : and tear prochiimeth— ' Behold, I sit un- rivalled therein !'— hut vanity is beyond them all. Weep not, therefore, at the calamities of the human state; rather smile at its follies. In the hands of a man addicted to vanity, life is but the shadow of a dream. The hero, the most renowned of human characters, what is he but a bubble of this weakness ? The pub- lic is unstable and ungrateful ; why should the man of wisdom endanger himself for fools ? The man who neglecteth his present concerns, to re- volve how he will behave when he is greater, feedeth himself Willi wind while his bread is eaten by another. Act as becometh thee in thy present station ; and in a more exalted one thou shalt not be ashamed. What blindetb the eye, or what hideth the heart of a man from himself, like vanity? Lo ! when thou seest not thyself, then others discover thee most plainly. Astheinlip that is gaudy without smell, conspicuous without use ; so is the man who setteth himself upon high, and hath no merit. The heart of the vain is troubled while it seemelh content ; his cares are greater than bis pleasures. His solicitude cannot rest with his bones : the grave is not deep enough to hide it : he extendeth his thoughts beyond his being; be bespeaketh praise to be paid when be is gone; but whoso promised) it, de- ceiveth him. As the man who engageth his wife to remain in wi- dowhood, that she disturb not his soul ; so he who ex- pecteth that praise shall reach his ears beneath the earth, or cherish his heart in its shroud. Do well whilst thou livest, but regard not what is said of it: content thyself with deserving praise, and thy posterity shall rejoice in hearing it. 172 IHE MORALIST. As tlie butterfly, who seeth not ber own colours— as the jessamine which scenteth not the odour it casteth around ; so is the man who appeareth gay, and biddeth others to take note of it. To what purpose, saith he, is my vesture of gold, to what end are my tables tilled with dainties, if no eve gaze upon them, if the world know it not ?— Give thy raiment to the naked, and thy food unto the hungry ; so shaltthou be praised, and shalt feel that thou de- scrvest it. Why bestowest thou on every man the flattery of unmeaning words? Thou knowesttbat when return- ed unto thee, thou regardest it not. He knoweth he lieth unto thee; yet he knoweth thou wilt thank him for it. Speak in sincerity, and thou shall hear with in- struction. Ttie vain delighteth to speak of himself; but be seeth not that others like not to hear him. If he hath done any thing worthy of praise, if he possess that which is worthy of admiration, his joy is to proclaim it, bis pride is to hear it reported. The de- sire of such a man defeatctb itself: men say not, Be- hold he hath done it, or see he posaesseth it! — but mark bow proud he is of it ! The heart of man cannot attend at once to many things : he who fixeth his soul on shew loseth reality ; he pursueth bubbles which break in their flight, while be treadeth to earth what would do him honour. INCONSTANCY. Nature urgeth thee to inconstancy, O man ! there- fore guard thyself at all times against it. Thou art from the womb of thy mother various and wavering; from the loins of thy father inheritest thou instability : how, then, shalt thou be tirm ? Those who gave thee a body furnished it with weak- ness ; but he who gave thee a mind, armed thee with re- solution: employ it, and thou art wise— be wise, and thou art happy. Let him who doeth well, beware how he boasteth of it ; for rarely is it of his own will. Is it not the event of an impulse from without?— Born of uncertainty, enforced by accident, dependant THE MORALIST. 173 on somewhat else— to these, then, and to accident, is the praise due. Beware of irresolution in the intent of thy actions, beware of instability in the execution ; so shalt thou triumph over two great failings of thy nature. What reproached] reason more than to act contra- rities? What can suppress the tendencies of these, but firmness of mind ? The inconstant feeleth that he changed), but he knoweth not why ; he seeth that he escaped) from him- self, but he perceiveth not how : be thou incapable of rhange in that which is right, and men will rely upon thee. Establish unto thyself principles of action, and see that thou ever act according to them. First know that thy principles are just, and then be thou inflexible in the path of them. So shall thy passions have no rule over thee: so shall thy constancy ensure unto thee the good thou p He Mho is arrogant without power, will be servilo where there is no subjection. To-day he is profuse, to-morrow he grudgeth unto his mouth that which it should cat; thus it is with bim that kuoweth not moderation. Who shall say of the cameleon, he is black, when a moment alter the verdure of the grass over»preadetli him ? Who shall say of the inconstant, he is joyful, when his next breath shall be spent ia sighing ? 174 THE MORALIST. What is the life of such a man but the phantom of a dream? in the morning he riseth happy, "at noon he is on the rack : this hour he is a God, the next below a worm: one moment he laugheth, the next he weepeth. He now willeth, in an instant he wiileth not, and in. another, he knoweth not whether he willeth or no. Yet neither ease nor pain has lixed itself on him — neither is he waxed greater, nor become less — neither hath he had cause for laughter, nor reason for his sorrow : therefore shall none of them abide with him. The happiness of the inconstant is as a palace built on the surface of the sand ; the blowing of the wind carrieth away its foundation: what wonder, then, that it falleth? But what exalted form is this, that hitherward di- rects its even, its uninterrupted course ; w hose foot is on the earth, whose head above the clouds? On his brow sittelh majesty, steadiness is in his port, and in his heart reigneih tranquillity. Though obstacles appear in the way, he dcigneth not to look down upon them : though heaven and earth op- pose his passage, he proceedeth. The mountains sink beneath his tread : the waters of the ocean are dried up under the sole of his foot. The tiger throweth herself across his way in vain, the spots of the leopard glow against him unregarded. He marcheth through the embattled legions: v, iih his hand he puttcth aside the terrors of death. Storms roar against his shoulders, but are not able to shake them ; the thunder bursteth over his head in vain ; the lightning serveth but to shew the glories of his countenance. His name is Resolution ! he Cometh from the utmost part of the earth ; he seeth Happiness afar off before him ; his eye disco vereth her temple beyond the limits of the pole. He walketh up to it, he entcreth boldly, and he re- maini'th there for ever. Establish thy heart, O man ! in that which is right, and then know the greatest of human praise is to be immutable. THE MORALIST. 175 "WEAKNESS. Vain and inconstant as thou art, O child of imper- fection ! how can.it thou be hut weak? Is not incon- stancy connected with frailty ? Can there he vanity without infirmity? Avoid the danger of the one, and thou shalt escape the mischief oi" the other. Wherein art thou most weak.? in that wherein thou seeniesl most strong— in that wherein most thou glo- riest — even in possessing the thing which tliou hast — in using the good that is about thee. Are not thy desires also frail ? or knowest thou even what it is thou wouldst wish ? When thou hast ob- tained what most thou soughtest after, behold it con- tenteth thee not. Wherefore loseth the pleasure that is before thee its relish? and why appearclh that which is yet to come the sweeter? Because thou art wearied with the good uf this, because thou knowest not the evil of that which is not with thee. Know that to be content is to be happy. Couldst thou chuse for thyself, would Mature lay before thee all that thine heart could ask for, would happiness then remain with thee ? or would joy dwell always in thy gates? Alas! thy weakness forbiddelh it— thy infirmity de- clarcth against it. Variety is to thee in the place of pleasure ; but that which permanently delighteth, must be permanent. When it is gone, thou repentest the less of it; though while it was witht>.ee, thou didsl despise it. That which sueceedeth it, hath, no more pleasure for thee; and thou afterwards quarrellest with thyself for preferring it: behold the only circumstance in which thou errest not. Is there any thing in which thy weakness appeareth more than in desiring things ? It is in the possessing and in the using them. Good things often cease to be good in our enjoy- ment of them: what nature meant to be pure sweets, are sources of bitterness to us: from our delights arise pain, from our joys, sorrow. Be moderate in thy enjoyment, and it shall remain in thy possession : let thy joy be founded on .reason , and to its end shall sorrow be a stranger. 'Th*e delights of love are ushered in by' sighs, and 176 THE MORALIST. they terminate in languishment and dejection ; the object thou burnest for nauseates with satiety, and no sooner hadst thou possessed it, but thou wert weary oT its presence. Join esteem to thy admiration; unite friendship with thy love ; so shalt thou hud in the end that con- tent surpasseth raptures ; that tranquillity is of more worth lhan ecstacy. Nature hath given thee no good without its admix- tures of evil; but it hath given thee also the means of throwing off the evil from it. As joy is not without its allay of pain, so neither is sorrow without its portion of pleasure. Joy and grief, though unlike, are united ; our own choice only can give thern to us entire. Melancholy itself often giveth delight ; and the ex- tremity of joy is mingled with tears. The best things in the hand of a fool maybe turned to his destruction ; and out of the worst the wise will find the means of good. So blended is « eakness in thy nature, O man ! that thou hast no strength, either to be good or to be evil entirely: rejoice that thou canst not excel in evil, and let the good that is within thy reach content thee. The virtues are allotted to various stations: seek not after impossibilities, nor grieve that thou canst not possess them all. YVoulilst thou at once have the liberality of the rich, and the contentment of the poor ? or should the wife of thy bosom be despised, because she showeth not the virtues of the widow ? If thy father sink bt fore thee in the divisions of thy country, can at once thy justice destroy him, and thy duty save his life ? If thou behold thy brother in the agonies of a slow death, is it not mercy to put a period to his life ? and is it not also death to be his murderer? {To be continued.) London : Printed and Published by R. Carlilk, 84, Fleet-street. Zty JWoralist. No. 12, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON TEMPERANCE. In dissuading from gluttony, the most influential course will be, to shew the good effect of temperance. It is proverbial, that temperance is the best phy- sician. There is scarcely a chronical complaint, in- cident to the human body, but may be removed by it, and by changing the quality of the food. All things are nut food for man ; nor are the same things food for all men alike. It is said, that what does not poison must feed— the phrase is correct; and the same re- versed, that what does not feed must poison. Under the common modes of supplying the stomach in this country, the body is made a coustant seat of warfare between this feeding and poisoning matter ; and but few of those born, live out what is termed a natural pe- riod of life. There is no saying to what extent that natural period would extend, if the body were sup- plied with nothing but wholesome food, in no more than necessary quantities ; but it may be justly said, lb it now all deaths are premature. A vegetable diet will cure most of the complaints that are brought on by animal diet, such as asthma, gout, bilious suffu- sions, and local pains of almost every kind. Vegetable oils, in the aggregate, are fur more wholesome and nourishing than animal oils, such as fats of all kinds and butter: these animal oils are evidently so much poisoning matter thrown upon the stomach ; and it is a matter much to be lamented, that custom has made th >se things the most alluring to the eyes, the palate, and other senses, which are most poisonous in the end to <>nr bodies. Nothing but a due investigation of their qualities and their effects, combined with a strong ic- London: Printed and Published byR. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street. 178 THE MORALIST. solution to reject them, can sustain us in the necessary abstinence. There is no precise rule of diet suited to all men alike, either in quantity or quality: every one should study and experiment upon what quantity and what quality procures him the greatest degree of health and strength. Nothing more easy to do, where a choice can be made : and this is lb^ right way to make every man his own physician. All drugs are so many poisons, and are never necessary, where temperance "and a prudent choice of food prevail. We first engender disease by bad air, improper food, &.c. ; and then we require drugs to produce a violent motion i n the body, to expel the enemy we have suffered to enUr. We suffer two enemies to combat each other within us, and our bo- dies are often laid desolate by their struggles and con- ilagrations. An asthma is a generation of morbid matter, by throw- ing upon the stomach an improper food, animal food, fats, bolter, &c, which it is too weak to digest and ex- pel. This morbid matter generates inflammations ; and hence, by the operation of particular airs, sore throats and many other complaints are produced.— The person who feeds upon wholesome vegetables, is never subject to any disease of the kind; and a year of such a diet will cure the most inveterate asthma, which is found incurable by drugs, so long as it is constantly fed with improper food. Gout is a disease so far differing from asthma, that it happens to the strongest stomachs. A super abundance of harsh food is digested and thrown into the system, or ducts of the body, beyond w hat can be well carried off; and hence, fixed concretions of calcareous matter accumulate at the extremities, and about the joints, which stup the necessary circulation of the fluids, and produce those racking pains which are felt in this dis- ease. Thus it is clear, that the only remedy for this disease is, the dispersion of these concretions, by tem- perance, or by some violent motions. And thus it may be plearly seen, why this disease is periodical, ltispro- duceel by throwing a super-abundance of food on the stomach to gratify the palate. Temperance, or a re- sort to vegetable food, will reduce it in its worst state. It is a law in the motion of matter, that fluids become fixed in the same degree as their motion is impeded.— Thus, an undue accumulation of lixed matter in the body generates disease: and that species of temper- THE MORALIST. 1/9 ance, which supplies the body wilh no more food than it can convert to a fluid and regularly expel, keeps up a regular state of health, or a healthy action of the flu- ids of the body, free from pain. All pain is an undue pressure or interruption of fluids at some particular part. Even the pain of hunger is an action, a pres- sure, of the gastric juice upon the coat of the stomach, from the want of food to act upon. Ali animal food has a tendency to ossify, to produce calcareous matter, by the generation of heat in the bo- dy : vegetables act in a contrary way, and carry off calcareous matter by absorbing it. It" is thus that lime improves the soil on which vegetables grow, and de- stroys the insects that are feeding on those vegetables : for lime is nothing more than animal ossification. The very stone which is burnt to produce it, is, in the first instance, the ossifications of sea animals petrified, and the petrifaction again reduced by lire; so that every atom of lime that is used, has once formed a part of some animal. The process by which temperance reduces the dis- eases of asthma, gout, and all inflammatory concre- tions, is by withholding the supplies that sustain them : and if, in addition to temperance, the food taken bo sought as a specific for the disease, the cure is doubly sure. All vegetable matter has a tendency to absorb and carry off the more foul parts of animal maltei ; and thus a resort to vegetables, when under any disease of the body that arises trom a congregation of morbid mailer, so changes the fluids, that fhey act upon and reduce that morbid matter, and will, if sufficiently per- sisted in, clear away all obstructions, and establish a perfect and hcahhful circulation and expulsion of the fluids. This is not only the law of motion in the hu- man body ; but is the same in every thing that comes under our observation. The advantages of temperance, and a knowledge of the quality of the food we consume, are great in rela- tion to human happiness, beyond all conception to ig- norant persons, or those who do not experiment upon the matter. The pampered glutton knows nothing of health: his pleasure consists of torpidity: and an empty stomach is to him a state of pain. The tempe- rate person, who finds a little sufficient to support him iin health and strength, knows nothing of the pain of hunger, within moderate lapses of time; because, as he eats for no other purpose than to feed the body, the difference as to quantity of matter in the stomach is 180 THE MORALIST. scarcely 1 "«_■ It- he can only suffer from oppressing it with too great a quantity; or by an absolute want of a sufficiency to keep up the due motion of his fluids. Invain'is temperance preached, unless the evils of excess be preached with it. Mankind is more disposed to pursue excesses than any other animal ; and though he boasts of reason as his peculiar possession, he is, in the aggregate of pursuits, the most unreasonable. But it fortunately happens, that his character is to be improved by education; and to pursue that improve- ment is philanthropy in the teacher, and wisdom in the learner: whilst, to preserve the health, to be uniformly strong and free from pain, is the first principle of a wise man. The temperately fed labourer, who has enough of wholesome food, enough of necessary and comfortable clothing, a sound dwelling, and no vices about bim,— he! he is the rich man, the happy man, the wise man. Pampered idleness knows no pleasures, no pleasurable sensations, that can compete with those of such a man. And if, to his frugality, he adds a con- stant mental feast, by studying the nature of things that pass his view, life becomes to him one unvaried scene of happiness. He is the good, the virtuous man. THE ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE. ( Continued from p. 176 .) OF THE INSUFFICIENCY OF KNOWLEDGE. If there is any thing lovely— if there is any thing desirable— if there is any thing within the reach of man that is worthy of praise, is it not knowledge? and yet who is it that attameth to it ? The statesman proclaimeth that hehnth it; the ruler of the people claimeth the praise of it : but lindelh the subject that he pi ssesseth it ? Evil is not requisite to man, neither can vice be accessary to be tolerated; yet how many evils are permitted by the connivance of the laws? — how many crimes committed by the decrees of the council ? But be wise, Oh ruler '. and learn, Oh thou that nrt to command the nations! one crime authorised by thee is worse than the escape of ten from punish- ment. When thy people are numerous : when thy sons in- THE MORALIST. 181 crease about thy table, sendest thou them not out to slay the innocent, and to fall before the sword of biui whom the) have not offended ? If the object of thy desires demandeth the lives of a thousand, sayest thou not, I will have it? Surely, thou furgt tti'st thai he who created thee, created also these ; and that their blood is as rich as thine. Sayest thou that justice cannot be executed with- out wrong ? Surely thine own words condemn thee. Thou who flail erest with false hopes the criminal, that he may confess his guilt, art thou not unto him a criminal? oris thy guilt the less, because he cannot punish it ? When thou comrnandest to the torture him who is but suspected of ill, darest thou to remember that thou may est rack the innocent ? Is thy purpose answered by the event? Is thy mind satisfied by his confession? Pain will enforce him to say what is not, as easy as what is: and anguish hath caused innocence to accuse herself. That thou mayest not kill him without cause, thou doesl worse than kill him: that thou inayest prove whether he be guilty, thou destroyest hiin innocent. Oh blindness to all truth! Oh insufficiency of the wisdom of the wise! know when thy judge shall bid thee account for this, then shalt thou wish ten thou- sand guihy to have gone free, rather than one innocent to stand forth against thee. Insufficient as thou art to the maintenanceof justice, how shalt thou arrive at the knowledge of truth? how shalt thou ascend to the footstep of her throne? As tho owl is blinded by the radiance of the sun, so shall the bright countenance of Truth dazzle thee in thy approaches. If ihou wouldst mount up into her throne, fir^t bow Ih \ self at her footstool— if thou wouldst arrive at the knowledge of her, first inform thyself of thine own ig- norance. More worth is she than pearls, therefore seek her carefully: the emerald, and the sapphire, and the ruby, are as dirt beneath her feet; therefore pursue her manfully. The way to her is labour : attention is the pilot that must conduetthee into her ports : but weary nut in tho way, for when thou art arrived at her, the toil shall be to thee for pleasure. Say not unto thyself, behold truth breedeth hatred, and I will avoid it: dissimulation raiseth friends, and 182 THE MORALIST. I will follow it : are not the enemies made by truth better than the friends obtained by flattery ? Naturally doth man desire the troth, yet, when it is before him, he will not apprehend it; and if it force itself upon him, is he not offended at it? The fault is not in truth, for that is amiable ; but the weakness of man beareth not its splendour. When thou givest an oath — when thou swearest thou wilt not deceive, behold it spreadeth shame upon thy face, and upon the face of him that receiveth it! learn to be just, and repentance may be forgotton — learn to be honest, and oaths are unnecessary. The shorter follies are the better ; say not therefore to thyself, I will not play the fool by hafves. He that heareth his own faults with patience, shall reprove another with boldness. He that giveth a denial with reason, shall suffer are- pulse wilh moderation. If thou art suspected, answer wilh freedom : whom shall suspicion affright except the guilty? The tender of heart is turned from his purpose by supplications; the proud is rendered mure obstinate by entreaty: the sense of thine insufficiency command- eth thee to hear ; but to be just thou must hear with- out thy passions. MISERY. Feeble and insufficient as thou art, Oh man! in good : frail and inconsistent as thou art in pleasure, yet is there a thing in which thou art strong and unshaken —its name is Misery It is the character of thy being, the prerogative of thy nature: in thy breast alone it resideth ; without thee there is nothing of it,- and behold, what is its source, but thine own passions? Nature that gave thee these, gave thee also reason to subdue them; exert it, and thou shalt trample them under thy feet. Thine entrance into the world, is it not shameful ? thy destruction, is it not glorious? Lo ' men adorn the instruments of death with gold and gems, and wear them above their garments. He who begetteth a man, hideth his face ; but he who killeth a thousand, is honoured. Know thou, notwithstanding, that in this is error : custom cannot alter the nature of truth, neither can THE MORALIST. 183 the opinion of man destroy justice: the glory and the shame are misplaced. There is hut one way for man to he produced ; there are a thousand hy which he may be destroyed. There is no praise or honour to him who giveth be- ing to another ; hut triumphs and empire arc the re- wards of murder. Yet be who bath many children bath as many bless- ings; and be who hath taken away the life of another, shall not enjoy his own. While the savage curst U. the birth of his son, and blesseth the death of his father, doth he not call him- self a monster? Enough or' evil is allotted unto man; hut he maketh it more while he lamenteth it. The greatest of all human ills is sorrow; too much of this thou art born unto : add not unto it by thine own perverseness. Grief is natural to thee, and is always about thee: pleasure is a stranger, and visiteth thee but at times: use well thy reason, and sorrow shall be cast behind thee: be prudent, and the visits of joy shall remain long with thee. Every part of thy frame is capable of sorrow; but few and narrow are the paths that lead to delight. Pleasures can be admitted only simply; but pains rush in a thousand at a time. As the blaze of straw fadelb as soon as it is kindled ; so passeth away the brightest of joy, and thou knowest not what is become of it. Sorrow is frequent; pleasure is rare ; pain comelh of itself; delight must be purchased ; grief is unmix- ed ; but joy wanleth not its allay of bitterness. As the soundest health is less perceived than the lightest malady., so the highest joy touches us iessdeep than the smallest sorrow. We are in love with anguish— we often fly from plea- sure ; when we purchase it, costeth it not more than it is worth? Reflection is the business of man: a sense of his state is his first duty: but who remembereth himself in joy? Is it not in mercy, then, that sorrow is allotted unto us ? Man foreseeth the evil that is to come : he remem- bereth it when it is past ; he considereth not that the thought of affliction woundcth deeper than the afflic- tion itself: think not of thy pain but when it is upon thee, and thou shalt avoid what most would hurt tbee> 184 THE MORALIST. He who weepeth before be needcth, weepeth more than he needeth, and why? but that helovetb weeping-. The stag weepeth not till the spear is lifted up against him; nor do the tears of the beaver fall till the hound is ready to seize him : man anticipated] death by l!ie apprehension of it ; and the fear is greater misery'thati the event itself. Be always prepared to give an account of thine ac- tions, and the best death is that which is the ieast pre- meditated. OF JUDGMENT. The greatest bounties given to man are judgment and will : happy is lie who misapplieth them not. As the torrent that rollelh down the mountains des- troyet.h all that is borne away by it; so doth common opinion overwhelm reason in hi in whosubmittelh to it, w itliout saying, " What is thy foundation ?" See that what thou receivest as truth, be not the sha- dow of it; what thou acknowledgest as convincing, is often but plausible: be firm, be constant, determine for thyself; so shalt thou be answerable only for thine own weakness. Say not that the event prove! h the wisdom of the action : remember man is not above the reach of acci- dents. Condemn not the judgment of another, because it dift'ereth from thine own ; may not even both be in an error ? When thou esteemest a man for his titles, and con- temuest the stranger because he wanteth them, judgeili thou not of the camel by his bridle? Think not thou art revenged of thine enemy when thou slaycst him— thou putlest hiai beyond thy reach — thou givest him quiet, and thou lakest from thyself all means of hurting him. Was thy mother incontinent, and grieveth it thee to be told of it ? Is frailty in tny wife, and art thou pained at the reproach of it ? he who despiseth thee for it, condemneth himself: art thou answerable for the vices of another. Disregard not a jewel because thou possessest it - 3 THE MORALIST. 185 neither enhance thou the value of a thing because it is another's: possession to the wise addeth to the price of it. Honour not thy wife the less, because she is in thy power: and despise him that halh said, " Wouldst thou love her less? marry her!" What hath put her into thy power, but her confidence in thy virtue >— Shouldat thou love her less for being more obliged to her ? If thou wert Justin thy courtship of her; though thou neglectest her while thou hast her, yet shall her loss be bitter to thy soul. He who thinketh another best only because he pos- sesseth her; if he be not wiser than thee, at least he is more happy. Weigh not the loss thy friend hath suffered by the tears he sheddeth : the greatest griefs are oft above these expressions of them Esteem not an action because it is done with noise and pomp: the noblest mind is that which doth gre.^t things, and is not moved in the doing them. Fame astonisheth the ear of him who heareth it; but tranquillity rejoiceth the heart that is possessed of it. Attribute not the good actions of another to bad causes • thou canst not know his heart ; but the world will know by this that thine is lull of envy. There is not in hypocrisy more vice than folly: to be honest is as easy as to seem so. Be more ready to acknowledge a benefit than to re- venge an injury; soshaltthou have more benefits than injuries done unto thee. Ik 1 more ready to love than to hate ; so shalt thou bo loved by more than hate thee Be willing to commend, and be slow to censure; so shall praise be Hpon thy virtues, and the eye of enmity shall be blind to thy imperfections. When thou dost good, do it because it is good, not because men esteem it: when thou avoidest evil, fly it because it is evil, not because men speak against it: be honest for love of honesty, and thou shalt be uni- formly so : he that doth it without principle is waver- ing. Wish rather to be reproved by the wise, than to be applauded by him who hath no understanding: when they tell ihee of a fault, they suppose that thou canst improve ; the other, when he praiscth thee, thinketh thee like unto himself. 186 THE MORALIST. Accept not an office for which thou art not qualified; lest he who knoweth more of it, despise thee. Instruct not another in that wherein thyself art ig- norant: when he seeth it, he shall upbraid thee. Expect not a friendship with him who hath injured thee ; he who suffereth the wrong may forgive it ; hut he who doeth it, it never will be well with him Lay not too great obligations on him thou wishest to be thy friend ; behold, the sense of them will drive him from thee; a little beneiit alienateth friendship ; a great one maketh an enemy. Nevertheless, ingratitude is not intho nature of man, neither is his auger irreconcileable : he hateth to be put in mind of a debt he cannot pay : he is ashamed in the presence of him whom he hath injured. Repine not at the good of a stranger, neither rejoice thou in the evil that befalleth thine enemy : wishest thou that others should do thus by thee? Wouldst thou enjoy the good -will of all men ; let thine own benevoIenc*e he universal. If thou obtain- est it not by this, no other mrans could give it thee ; and know, though thou hast it not, thou hast the greater pleasure of having merited it. Pride and meanness seem incompatible ; but man rcconcilcth contrarieties : he is at once the most mi- serable, and the most arrogant of all creatures. Presumption is the bane of reason— it is the nurse of error ; yet it is congenial with reason in us. Who is there that judgeth not either too highly of himself, or thinketh too meanly of others ? What is the origin of superstition ? and whence arises false worship ? from our presuming to reason about what is above our reach — to comprehend what is in- comprehensible. Limited and weak as our understandings are, wc employ not even their little forces as we ought. Man, who is truly but a mote in the wide expanse, beiieveth the whole earth and heaven created for him : he thinketh the whole frame of nature hath interest in bis well being. As the fool, while the images tremble on the bosom of the water, thinketh that trees, towns, and the wide Til li MORALIST. 187 horison are daneing to do him pleasure; so' roan, while nature performs her destined course, believer thai all her (notions ai e but to entertain his eye. While he courts the rays of the sun to warm him, he supposeth it made wnlj to be oi' use to him; while ho tracetb the moon in her mighty paih, he believeth she was created to do him pleasure. Fool to thine own pride, be humble! know thou art not the cause why toe world holdeth its course: for thee are nut made" the vicissitudes of summer an:l win- ter. No change would follow if thy whole race existed not : thou art but one among millions that are blessed in it. How many things liatebeen rejected which are now received as truths r How many now received as truths shali in their turn be despised? of w hat then can man be certain ? Do the good that thou knowest, anil happiness shall be unto tliee: virtue is more thy business here than wisdom. Truth and falsehood, have they not the same ap- pearance in what we understand not ? What then but our presumption can determine between them ? NVe easily believe what is above our comprehension ; or we are proud 'o pretend it, that we may appear to have understanding; is not this folly and arrogance ? Say not that truth is established by years, or that in a multitude of believers there is certainly. One human proposition hath as much authority as another, if reason maketh not the difference. COVETOUSNESS. Riches are not worthy a strong attention ; an ear- nest care of obtaining them is therefore unjustifiable. The desire of what man calleth good, the joy he taketh in possessing it, is grounded only in opinion ; take not up that from the vulgar : examine the worth of things thyself, and thou shall not be covetous. An immoderate desire of riches is a poison lodged in the mind ; it contaminates and destroys every thing that is good in it: it is no sooner rooted there, than all virtue, all honesty, all natural affet'iion fly before the face ot it. 188 THE MORALIST. The covetous would sell bis children for gold ;-1i is parents might die ere he would open his cofl'er— na\ , he considereth not himself in respect of it: in the search of happiness be maketh himself unhappy. As the man who Selleth his house to purchase orna- ments for the embellishment of it ; even so is he who giveth up peace in the search of riches, in hope that he may be happy in enjoying them. Where covetousness reiguelh, know that the mind is poor. Who so accounteth nut riches the principal good of man, will not throw away all other goods in the pursuit of them. Whoso feareth not poverty as the greatest evil of his nature, will not purchase to himself all other evils in the avoiding of it. Thou fool, is not virtue more worth than riches? Is not guilt more base than poverty ? Enough for his neee«.sities are in the power of every man : be content with it, and thy happiness shall smite at the sorrows of him who heapeth up more. Nature hath hid gold beneath the earth, as uworthy to be seen ; siher hath she placed where ihou tram- plest it under thy feet : meaneth she not by this to in- lorm thee, that gold is not worthy regard— that silver is beneath thy notice ? Covetousness burieth under the ground millions of wretches ; they dig for their hard masters what return - eth the injury — what maketh them more miserable than these their slaves. The earth is barren of good things where she hoard- eth up treasure ; where gold is in her bowels, there no herb groweth. As the horse findeth not there his grass, or the mule bis provender— as the tields of corn laugh not on the sides of the hills — as the olive holdeth not forth there her fruits, nor the vine her clusters ; even so no good dwelleth in the breast of him whose heart broodcth over his treasure. Riches are servants to the wise ; but they are tyrants over tiie mind of the fool. The covetous serveth his gold ; it serveth not him ; he possesseth his wealth as the sick doth a i'exer ; it burnetii and tortureth him, and will not quit him until death. Hath not gold destroyed the virtue of millions ? Did it ever add to the goodness of any ? Is it not moil'abundant with the worst of men? THE MORALIST. 189 Wherefore theo^Bhonldstlhou desire to be distinguished by possessing it ? Have not the wisest been those who have had least of it ? and is not wisdom happiness ? Have not the worst of thy species possessed the greatest portions of it ? and hath not their end been miserable ? Poverty wantelh many things ; but cove'.ousncss denieth itself all. The covetous can be good to no man ; but he is to none so cruel as to himself. Be industrious to procure gold, and be generous in the disposal of it : man never is so happy as when he giveth happiness unto another. PROFUSION. If there be a vice greater than the hoarding up of riches, it is the employing them to useless purposes. He that prodigally lavisheth that which ho bath to spare, robbeth the poor of what nature giveth them a right unto. He svhosquandcreth away his treasure, refuselh the means to do good ; he denieth himself the practice of virtue, whose reward is in their hand, whose end is no other than his own happiness. It is more difficult to be well with riches, than to be at ease under the want of them : man governeth him- self much easier in poverty than in abundance. Poverty requireth but one virtue (patience) to sup- port it : thT rich, if he have not charity, temperance, prudence, and many more, is guilty. The poor hath only the good of his own state com- mitted unto him; the rich is entrusted with the walfare of thousands. He who giveth away his treasure, wisely giveth away his plagues; he that retainelh their increase, beapeta up sorrows. Refuse not unto the stranger that which he wantelh ; flenv not unto thy brother even that which thou want- ed thyself. Know there is more delight in being without what thou hast given, than in possessing millions which thou know est not the use of. 190 THE MORALIST. REVENGE. The root of revenge is in the weakness of the mind ; the most abject and timorous are the most addicted to it. Who torture those they hate, but cowards? Who murder those they rob, but women? The leeting an injury must be previous to the re- venging it; but the noble mind disdaincth to say, " It hurts me." If the injury is not below thy notice, he that doth it unto thee maketh himself so ; wouldsl thou enter the lists with thine inferior? Disdain the man who atiemptelh to wrong thee ; contemn him who would give thee disquiet. In this thou not only preserves! thine own peace, but thou inflictestall the punishment of revenge, with • out stooping to employ it against him. As the tempest and the thunder a fleet not the sun or the stars, but spend their fury on stones and trees be- low, so injuries ascend not to the minds of the. great, but waste themselves on those who offer them. Poorness of spirit \\ ill actuate revenge; greatness of mind despiseth the offence, nay, it doth good unto him who intended to have disturbed it. Why seekest thou vengeance, Oh man! with what purpose is it that thou pursuest it? thinkest thou to pain thine adversary by it? know that thyself feelesl its greatest torment. Revenge gnaweth the heart of him who is infected with it ; while he against whom it is intended, remain - eth easy. It is unjust in the anguish it indicts ; therefore n i - tore intended it not lor thee: needeth he who is injure.! more pain ? or ought he to add fuice to the affliction which another hath cast upon him ? The man who meditateth re\cnge is not content with ihf> mischief he hath received : he addeth to his anguish the punishment due unto another; while he whom he s:'ekelh to hurt goeth his way laughing: he maketh himself merry at this addition to his misery. Revenge is" painful in the intent, and it is dangerous in the execution : seldom doth the axe fall where he w h o lifted it up intended ; and he remembcreth not that it must recoil against him. Whiibt the revengeful s'.ekelh his enemy's hurt, he. THE MORALIST. 191 oftentimes procureth his own destruction; whtyfl he aimeth at one of t lie eyes of his adversary, lo ! he pulteth out both liis own." II he attain not his end, he lamenteth it ; if he suc- ceed, herepenteth of it. The fear of justice taketh awaj the peace of* his own mind ; the care to hide him from it destrojeth that o( bis friend. Can the death of thine adversary satiate thy hatred f Can the setting nlm at rest r< siore'thy peace. " Wouldst thou make him sorry for liis offence, con- quer him and spare him ; in death lie owneth not thy superiorilv, nor feeleth he more the power of thy wrath. In revenue there should be a triumph of the avenger; and he who hath injured him should feel his displea- sure ; be should suffer pain from it, and should repent him of tile cause. This is revenge inspired from anger ; but that which niaketh the greatest, is contempt Murder for an injury ariseih only from cowardice : he who inflict th it, ftaretb that the enemy may live and avenge himself. Death endeth Uio quarrel ; but it resiorelh not the reputation : killing is an act of caution, not of cou- rage : it is safe, but it is not honourable. There is nothing so easy as to revenge an offence ; but nothing is so honourable as to pardon it. The greatest victory man can obtain is over himself : be that disdaioeib to feel an injury, retortcth it upon him who offercth it. When thou meditntcsl revenge, thou confesses! that tboufeelest the wrong: when thou complni nest, thou aeknow ledgest thyself hurt by it ; meanest thou to add ill is triumph to the pride of thine enemy ? That cannot be an injury which is not felt: how then can he who despisetn it revenge it? if thou think it dishonourable to bear an offence, more is in thy power— thou, mayest conquer it. Good offices will make a man ashamed to be thine enemy. Greatness of mind will terrify him from .he thnngbt of hurting thee. The greater the wrung, the more glory is in pardon - ing it; and b\ how much more just ill able would be re- venge, by so much the more honour is in clemency. iiust tliuu a right lo be a judge in thine own cause ; to be a party in the act, and yet to pronounce sentence on it? Dci'yre thou condemnest, let another s.i\ it is just. 192 THE MORALIST. The revengeful is feared, and therefore he is hated; but he that is endowed with clemency, is adored. The praise of his actions remaiueth forever, and the love of the world attendeth him. CRUELTY, HATRED, AND ENVY. Revenge is detestable ; what, then, is cruelty ? lo! it possesseth the mischiefs of the other, but it wanteth even the pretence of its provocations. Men disown it as not of their nature: they are ashamed of it as a stranger to their hearts. Do they not call it inhumanity ? Whence, then, is her origin? unto what that is hu- man oweth she her existence ? Her father is fear ; and behold dismay, is it not her mother ? The hero lifteth bis sword against the enemy that resistetb ; but no sooner doth he submit, than he is sa- tisfied. It is not in honour to trample on the object that fear- eth ; it is not in virtue to insult what is beneath it : subdue the insolent and spare the humble, and thou art at the height of victory. He who wanteth virtue to arrive at this end ; he ■who bath not courage to ascend thus into it , lo ! he supplieth the place of conquest by murder, of to- vereignty by slaughter. He who ieareth all, striketh at all: why are tyrants cruel, but because they live in terror? The cur will tear the carcase, though he dare not look it in the face while living; but the hound that hunteth it to death, mangleth it not afterwards. That thou mayestnot be cruel, set thyself too high for hatred: that thou mayestnot be inhuman, place thyself above the reach of envy. "Every man may be viewed in two lights ; in one he will be troublesome, in the other less offensive : chusc to spe him in that in which he least hurteth thee, then shalt thou do no hurt unto him. (To be continued.) London : Printed and Published by R. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street. m>e ffioxaU&t No. 13, Vol. I. Price Twopence. SENECA, ON TEMPERANCE, AS CONTRASTED WITH SENSUALITY. A SENSUAL LIFE IS A MISERABLE LIFE. The sensuality that we here treat of, falls naturally under the head of luxury, which extends to all the excesses of gluttony, lust, effeminacy of manners, and, in short, to whatever concerns the pampering or ex- cessive gratification ot the body. To begin with the pleasures of the palate, that deal with us like Egyptian thieves, strangling those they embrace, what shall we say of the luxuries of Momen- tanus and Apicius, who entertained their very souls in the kitchen : they have the choicest music for their ears, the most diverting spectacles for their eyes, the choicest variety of meats and drinks for their palates. What is all this, I say, but a merry madness? It is true, they have their delights, but not without heavy and anx- ious thoughts, even in their very enjoyments; beside that, they are followed with repentance, and all their frolics are litlle more than the laughter of so many people out of their wits. Their felicities arc full of disquiet, and neither sincere, nor well grounded ; but they have need of one pleasure to support another, and of new prayers to forgive the errors of their for- mer. Their life must needs be wretched, that get with £reat pains what they keep with greater. One diversion overtakes another, hope excites hope, am- bition begets ambition ; so that they only change the matter of their miseries, without seeking any end of them, and shall never he without either prosperous or unhappy causes of disquiet. What if a body might hive all the pleasures in the world for the asking ? Who would so much unman himself as by accepting London: Printed and Published by R. Carlilk, 84, Fleet-street. 194 THE MORALIST. of them, to desert his mind, and become a perpetual 6lave to his senses ? Those false and miserable palates, that jud^e of meals by the price and difficulty of get- ting them, not by the* healihfulness ol their quality, or taste; they eat that they may vomit, and vomit that they may cat again. They cross the seas fur va- rielies, and when they have swallowed tliem, they will not so much as give them time to digest. Whereso- ever nature has placed men, she has provided them with aliment, but we rather chuse to irritate hunger by expence, than to allay it at an easier rale. What is it that we plough the s as for, or arm ourselves agaiiiNt men and beasts ? To what end do we toil and labour, and pile bags upon bags? We may en- large our fortunes, but we cannot our bodies; so that it does but spill and run ever, whatsoever we take more than we can hold. Our forefathers, by force of whose virtues we are now supported in our vices, lived every jot as well as we, when they pro- vided and dressed their own meat with their own hands, lodged upon the ground, and were not as yet come to the vanity of sold and gems: when they swore by their earthen .gods, and kept « heir oath,, "though they died for it. Did not our consuls live more hap- pily, when they cooked their own meal with th-.se vic- torious hands" that had conquered S » many enemies, >:udvvon mi many laurels ? Did not Ihey live more happily, I say, than our Apieius, that corrupter of vouth, and plague of the age he lived in, who, after he had -pent a prodigious lortune upon his beily, poi- soned himself for tear of starving, when he had two hundred and lif'ty thousand crowns in his coffers ? Which may serve to shew us, that it is the mind, and not lb- sum, that makes any man rich ; when Apieius, with all this treasure, counted himself in a state of beggaiy, and took poison to avoid that condition, ■which another would have prayed tor. Bui why do we call it poison, which was the most wholesome draught of his life ? His daily gluttony was poison rather, both to himselfaud others. His ostentation on that head was intolerable; and so was the infinite pains he took to mislead others, by his example, who went fast enough of themselves, without driving. It is a shame fur a man to place his felicity in (hose entertainments and appetites, that are stronger in brutes. Do not beasts eat with a better stomach ? Have they not more satisfaction in their passions ? and they have not only a quicker relish of their plea- THE MORALIST. 195 surcs, hit they enjoy them without either scandal or remorse. If sensuulity were happiness, blasts were more happy Hian men ; but human felicity is lodged in the mind, not in the flesh. They who deliver them- selves up to luxury, are still either tormented with too Jittle, or oppressed with too much ; and equally mi- serable, in bing either deserted, or overwhelmed. They are like m>n in a dangerous sea, one while cast upon a rock, and anoiher while swallowed up in a whirlpool; and all this from a mistake of not distin- guishing good from evil. The huntsman, who with much labour and hazard takes a wild beast, runs as great a risk afterwards in the keeping of him, for In; may tear the throat of his master ; and it is the same with inordinate pleasures : the more in number, and the greater they are, the more general and absolute a slave is the servant of them. Let the common people pronounce him as happy as they please, he pays his liberty for his delights, and sells' himself for what he buys. Let any man take a view of our kitchens, the num- ber of our cooks, and the variety of our meats, will he not wonder to sec so much provision made for one belly? We h;>ve as many diseases as we have cooks, or meats ; and the service of the appetite is the study now in vogue. To say nothing of our trains of lac- queys, and our troops of caterers and sewers. Asto- nishing ' that ever one belly should employ so many people! How nauseous and fu some are the surfeits that follow these excesses? Simple meats are out of fashion, and all are collected into one; so that the cook docs the office of the stomach, nay, and of tht; teeth, too, for the meat looks as if it were chewed be- fore hand ; here is the luxury of all tastes in one dish , and more like a vomit than a soup. From these com- pounded dishes arise compounded diseases, which re- quire compounded medicines. It is the same thing with our minds, that it is with our tables; simple vices are cured by simple counsels, but a general dissolution of manners is hardly overcome: we are overrun with a public as well as with a private madness. The phy- sicians of old understood little more than the virfueof some herbs to stop blond, or heal a wound: and their firm and healthful bodies needed little more, before they were corrupted by luxury and pleasure, and when it once came to » h;it, their business was not lo lay hun- ger, but to provoke it, by a thous >nd in\ entions and sauces. That which was ali.nent to a crawn^j stomach, 196 THE MORALIST. is become a burden to a full one. From hence come paleness, trembling, and worse effects from crudities than famine; a weakness in the joints, ihe belly stretched, suffusion of bile, torpor of the nerves, and a palpitation of the heart. To say nothingof the me- grims, torments of Ihe eyes and ears, head ache, gout, scurvy, several sorts of fevers and putrid ulcers, with other diseases, thai are but the punishment of luxury. So long as our bodies were hardened with labour, or tired with exercise, our food was plain and simple ; many dishes have made many diseases. It is an ill thing for a man not to know the measure of his stomach, nor to consider, that men do many things in their drink that they are ashamed of sober: drunkenness being nothing else than a voluntary mad- ness. It emboldens men to do all sorts of mischiefs, it both irritates wickedness, and discovers it ; it does uot make men vicious, but it shews them to be so. It makes hirn that is insolent, prouder; him that is cruel, fiercer; it takes away all shame. He that is peevish breaks out presently into ill words and blows. To say nothing of the crudilies and diseases that follow upon this distemper, consider the public mischiefs it has done. How many warlike nations and strong cities, that have stood iinincible to attacks and sieges, has drunkenness overcome ? Is it not a great honour to drink the company dead? a magnilicient virtue Jo swallow more wine than the rest, and yet at last to be outdone by a hogshead ? What shali \vc say of those* men, that invert the offices of day and night? as if our eyes were only given us to make use of in ihe dark.— is it day? it is time to go to bed ! Is it night? it is lime to rise i Is it towards morning? let us go to sup- per! When other people lie down, they rise; and lie till the next night, to digest the debauch of the previous day. It is an argument of clownery, to do as other people do. Luxury steals upon us by degrees; first, it shews itself in a more than ordinary care of our bo- dies, it slips next into the furniture of our houses -tud fi gets then into the fabric, curiosity, and es pence of the house itself. It appears, lastly, in the fantastical excesses of our tables. We change and shuffle our meats, confound our sauces, serve that in first that used to ne the last, and value our dishes, not for the taste, but for the rarity. Nay, we are so delicious, that we must be told when we afe to eat < r drink, when *e are hungry or weary; and we cherish some vices, as proofs and arguments of our happiness. The most THE MORALIST. 197 miserable mortals are the*, that deliver themselves u { > to their palates, or to their lusts : the pleasure is short, turns presently nauseous, and the end of it is either shame or repentance. It is a brutal entertainmenl, and unworthy of a man, to place his felicity in theser- vice of his senses. As to the wrathful, tlie contentious, the ambitious, though the distemper be great, the of- fence has yet something in it that is manly. But the basest of prostitutes are those thatdedtcalc themselves wholly to lust; what with their hopes and fears, anx- iety of thought, and perpetual disquiets, they are never well, full nor fasting. What a deal of business is now made about our houses and diet, which was at lirst both plain and of little expence ? Luxury led the way, and we have em- ployed our wits in aid of our vices. First, we desired superfluities; our next step was to wickedness ; and, in conclusion, we delivered up our minds to our bodies, and so became slaves to our appetites, which before were our servant*, and are now become our masters. What was it that brought us to the extravagance of em- broideries, perfumers, tire -women, 6cc. ? We passed the bounds of nature, and launched out into super- fluilies, inasmuch, that it is now -a -days only for beg- gars and clowns to content themselves with what is sufficient; our luxury makes us insolent and mad. We take upon us like princes, and fly out for every trifle, as if there were life and death in the case. W T hat a madness is it for a man to lay out an estate upon a table, or a cabinet; a patrimony upon a pair of pen- dents ; and, to inflame the price of curiosities, ac- cording to the hazard either of breaking or losing them. How long shall we covet and oppress, enlarge our possessions, and account that too little for one man, which was formerly enough for a nation r Our luxury is as insatiable as our avarice. Where is that lake, that sea, that forest, that spot of land, iliat is not ransacked to gratify our palate? The very earth is buithened with our buildings; not a river, nor a mountain escapes us. Oh that there should be such boundless desires in our little bodies ! would not fewer lodgings serve us? We can lie but in one, and where we are not, that is not properly ours. What with our hooks, snares, nets, dogs, &c, we are at war with all living creatures; and nothing comes amiss, but that which is either too cheap, or too common; and all this to gratify a fantastical palate. Our avarice, our ambition, our lusts, are insatiable; we enlarge J98 THE MORALIST. our possessions, swell our families, we rifle sea and land for matter »f ornament and luxury. A hull con- tents himself with one meadow, and one forest is enough for a thousand elephants; but the little body of a man devours more than all other living creatures. We do not e:;t to satisfy hunger, but ambition; wo are dead while we are alive ; and our houses are so much our tombs, that a man might write our epitaphs upon our-very doors. A voluptuous person, in fine, can neither be a good man, a good patriot, nor a good friend ; for he is transported with his appetites, without considering that the lot of man is the law of nature. A good man will stand his ground, reeeive wounds, glory in his sears, and in death itself, with that divine precept al- ways in his mind—" Follow good." Whereas he that complains, and groans, must yield, nevertheless, and do his duty, tin ugh in spite of his heart. Now, what a madness is it for a man to cause rather to he lugged, than to follow, and vainly to contend with the calami- lies of human lile? Whatever is laid upon us by ne- cessity wo should reeeive generously ; for it is foolish to strive with what we cannot avoid. He that does this shall be free, safe, and quiet : all his actions shall succeed to ti is wish ; and what can any man desire more, than to want nothing: from without, and to have all things desirable within himself? Pleasures do but weaken our minds, and send us for our support to fortune, who gives us money only as the wages of slavery. We must stop our eyps and our ears. Ulys- ses had hut one rock to tear, but human life has many. — Every city, nay, every man is one, and there is no trusting even to our nearest friends. Deli\er me from the superstition of taking those things which are light and *ain, for felicities' There is not any thing that is necessary to us, but we have it cither cheap, or gratis ; and this is the pro- vision that nature hath made for us, whose bounty was never warding to our needs. It is true the belly craves, and calls upon us, but then a small matter con- tents it: a little bread and water is sufficient, and all the rest is but superfluous. He that lives according to reason shall never be poor ; and he that governs his life by opinion, shall never be i i< h ; for nature is limited, but fancy is boundless. As for meat, clothes, and lodging, a little feeds the body, and as little co- vers it, so that if mankind would only attend human nature, without gaping at superfluities, a cook would THE MORALIST. 199 be found as needless as a soldier: for we may have necessities upon very easy terms, whereas we put. our- selves to "rent pains for execsses. When we are cold we may cover ourselves with the skins of beasts, and against violent heats we have natural grottoes; or with a few nsiers, and a liitie elay, we may dv ten dour- selves against all seasons. It is" only pride and curi- osity that invoUe us in difficulties: if nothing wiM serve a man hut rich clothes and furniture, statues, and plate, a numerous train of servants, and the rari- ties of all nalions, it is not fortune'* fault, but hisowu, that he is not satisfied ; lor his desires are insai iablc , this is not a thirst, hut a disease ; and if he were mas- ter of the world, he would be still a beggar. It is the mind that makes us rich and happy ; in what condition soever we are, money signifies m-thing to it ; it is only luxury and avarice that make poverty grievmw to us; for it is a very small matter that does our business, and when we have provided against colt by choice meats and perfumes that our forefathers recommended themselves, but in vir- tuous actions, and the sweat of honest and manly la- bours. Happy is the man that eats only for hunger, and drinks only for thirst ; that stands upon his own legs, and lives by reason, not by example, and provides for use and necessity, not tor ostentation and pomp. Let us curb our appetites, encourage virtue, and rather be beholden to ourselves for riches than to fortune, who, when a man draws himself into a narrow compass, has the least mark at him. Let my bed be plain and clean, and my clothes so loo ; my meat without much expence, or many waiters, and neither a burden to my purse. 200 THE MORALIST. nor to my body, nor to go out the same way i t came in. That which is too little for luxury, is abundantly enough lor nature. The end of eating and drinking is satiety. — Now, what matters it, though one eats and drinks more, and another less, so long as the one is not hun- gered, nor the other athirst? Epicurus, who limits pleasure to nature, as the Stoics do virtue, is undoubt- edly in the right ; and those who cite him to authorise their voluptuousness, do exceedingly mistake him, and only seek a good authority for an evil cause ; for their pleasures of sloth, gluttony, and lust, have no affinity at all with his precepts, or meaning. It is true, that, at tirst sight, his philosophy seems effeminate, but he that looks nearer him, will tind him to be a very brave man, only in a womanish dress. We are ready enough to limit others, but loth to put bounds and restraint upon ourselves, though we know that many times a greater evil is cured by the less; and the mind that will not be brought to virtue by pre- cepts, comes to it frequently by necessity. Let us try to eat upon a stool, to serve ourselves, to live w ithin compass, and accommodate our clothes to the end they were made for. Occasional experiments of our mode- ration, give us the best proof of our firmness and vir- tue. A well governed appetite is a great part of li- berty ; and it is a blessed lot, that since no man can have all things that he would have, we may all forbear desiring what we have not. It is the oflice of temper- ance to overrule us in our pleasures : some she rejects, others she qualifies, and keeps within bounds. Oh! the delights of rest, when a man is weary, and of meat when he is truly hungry ! I have learned by one jour- ney, how many things we have that are superfluous, and how easily I hey may be spared ; for, when we are without them, upon necessity, we do not so much as feel the want of them. Mankind should be told, that they are all mad ; their minds are set upon superflui- ties, and they value no man for his virtues. It is dis- cretion sometimes to practise temperance, and use ourselves to a little; for there are many difficulties, both of time and place, that may force us upon it.— The whole duty of man may be reduced to the two points of abstinence and patience; temperance in prosperity, and courage in adversity. No man shall ever be poor that goes to himsolf for what he wants, and that is the readiest way to riohes ; nature will have her due, but yet, whatsoever is beyond necessity is precarious, and not necessary. It is not THE MORALIST. 201 her business to gratify the palate, but to satisfy a crav- ing stomach: bread, when a man is hungry, does his work, let it be ever so coarse, and water when he is thirsty : let his thirst be quenched, and nature is sa- tisfied, no matter whence it comes, or whether he drinks from gold, silver, or the hollow of his hand. There is no ambition in hunger and thirst : letthere be food, and no matter for the table, the dish, and the servants, nor with what meats nature is satisfied. — Those are the torments of luxury, that rather stuff the stomach than till it: it studies rather to cause an ap- petite, than to allay it. It is not for us to say— this is not handsome, that is not common, the other ofi'ends my eye. Nature provides for health, not delicacy. Where is the happiness of luxury? When a man divides his life between the kitchen and the stews ; be- tween an anxious conscience and a nauseous stomach? Caligula, who was born to shew the world what mis- chief might be done by a concurrence of great wicked- ness and a great fortune, spent near ten thousand pounds sterling upon a supper. The works and in- ventions of it arc prodigious, notonly in the counter- feiting of nature, but even in the surpassing it. The Romans have their brooks even in their parlours, and lind their dinners under their tables. The mullet is reckoned stale, unless it die in the hand of the guest: they have glasses to put them into, that they might the better observe all the changes and motions in the last agony betwixt life and death: so that they fed their eyes before their bodies. " Look how it red- dens," says one, " there is no vermillion like it. Take notice of these veins, and the same grey brightness upon the head of it. And now he is at his last gasp ; see how pale he turns, and all of a colour.'* These people would not give themselves half this trouble with adding friend; nay, they would leave a father, or a brother, at his last hour, to entertain themselves with the barbarous spectacle of an expiring fish. And that which enhances the esteem of every tiling is the price of it : insomuch, that, water itself, which ought to be gratuitous, is exposed to sale, in their conservatories of ice and snow. Nay, we are troubled that we cannot buy air and light, as if our condition were ill, because nature has lett something to us in common. Luxury contrives ways to set a price upon the most necessary and communicable benefits in na- ture ; even those benefits which are free to birds and beasts as well as to men, and serve indifferently forth© 202 THE MORALIST. use of the most sluggish creatures. How comes it that fountain water is n<>t cold enough to serve us, unless it be bound uo into ice? So longas Ihesiomnch is sound, nature discharges her functions .vithont trouble; but, when the hi od comes to t)e inflamed with excess o* wine, or meats, simple water is not cold enough lo allay that heat, and we are forced to make use of remedies, which are in themselves but vices. We heap cuppers upon dinners, and dinners upon suppers, without in- termission. How easy is it to quench a sound and bouest thi^t? but, when the palate is grown callous, Me taste nothing; and that which we take for thirst, is only the rage Q* a fever. Hippocrates delivered it as an aphorism, that women were never bald, nor gouty, but in one singular ease. Women have not altered their nature since, but they have changed tin- course of their lives ; for, by taking the example of men, they partake as well of Iheir diseases, as of their wicked- ness. They sit up as much, drink as much; nay, in their very appetites they arc masculine; they have lost the advantages of their sex by Iheir vices. THE ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE. (Continued from p. 192.) CRUELTY, HATRED, AND ENVY. What is there tint a man may not turn unto his good ? In that which often dell) us most, there is more ground f.>r complaint than hatred. Man would be re- conciled to him of whom he complaineth : what mur- dereth he but what he hateth ? If thou art prevented of a benefit, fly not into a rage; the loss of thy reason is the want of a greater. Because thou art robbed of thy cloak, wouldst thou strip thyself of thv coat also? When thou enviest the man who possesseth honours — when his titles and his greatness raise thy indigna- tion, seek to know whence they came unto him; en- quire by what means he was possessed of them, and thine envy will be turned into pity. If the s ime fortune were ofl'ered unto thee at the same price, be assured, if thou wert wise thou wouldst refuse it. THE MORALIST. 203 What is tic pay for titles but Batters ? how doth man purchase power, but by being a slave to him who giveth il ? Wouldst thou lose Ihine own liberty to be ab!e to lake away that of another? or canst tliou envy him who doth so ? Man purchaseth nothing of his superiors hut for a price; and that price is it not more than the valuer Wouldst llimi pervert the customs of the world ? wouldst thou have I he purchase and the price also? As thou canst not envy what thou wouldst not ac- cept, disdain this cause of hatred, and drive from thy mind this occasion of the parent of cruelty. If thou pessessest honour, canst thou envy that which is obtained at the expense of it ? If thou know- e*t the value of virtue, pittiest thou not those who have bartend it so meanly ? When thou hast taught thyself to hear the seeming good of men without repining, thou will hear of their real happiness with pleasure. If thou seest good things fall to one who deservest them, thou wilt rejoice in it j for virtue is happy in the prosperity of the virtuous. He who rejiicclh in the happiness of another, cn- rreaseth by it his own. HEAVINESS (F HEART. The mind of the cheerful force tb a smile upon the face. of affliction; but the despondence of the sad deadeaeth even the brightness of joy. What is the source of sadness but a feebleness of the mind ? What gi vet fa it power but the want of spi- rit? Rouse, thyself lo the combat, and she quittetb, the field before thou strikest. She is an enemv to thy race ; therefore drive her from tb\ heart : .die poisoneth the sweets of thy life, therefore suffer her not to enter thy dwelling. She raiseth the loss of a straw to the destruction of thy fortune ; while she \exeth tliy mind about trifles, sherobbeth thee of thine attention to the things of consequence ; behold, s!ie but propbesieth what sha seemetb to relate unto thee. She spreadeth drowsiness as a veil over thy virtues 204 THE MORALIST. — she hideth them from those who would honour ihee ou beholding them— she entangleth and keepeth them down, while she maketh it most necessary tor thee to exert them. Lo, she oppresseth thee with evil; and she tieth down thine hands, when they would throw the load from oft'thee. If thou wouldst avoid what is base — if thou wouldst disdain what is cowardly— if thou wouldst drive from thy heart what is unjust^ suffer not sadness to lay hold upon it. For what should man be sorrowful, but for afflic- tions? Why should his heart give up joy, when the causes of it are not removed from him ? Is not this being miserable for the sake of misery ? As the mourner who looketh sad because he is hired to do so. who weepcth because his tears are paid for ; such is the man who suft'ereth bis heart to be sad, not because he suftereth aught, but because he is gloomy. It is not the occasion that produceth the sorrow ; lor behold, the same thing shall be to another rejoicing. Ask men if their sadness maketh tilings the better, and themselves will confess to thpe that it is folly; nay, they will praise him who bearcth his ills w ill) patience, w ho maketh head against misfortune with courage ; applause shall be followed by imagination. Sadness is against Nature, for it troublcth ber mo- tions : lo ! it rendereth distasteful whatsoever she hath made amiable. As the oak falleth before the tempest, and raise.h not its head again ; so boweth the heart of man to the force of sadness, and returneth unto his strength no more. As the snow melteth upon the mountains from the rain that trickleth down their sides, even so is beauty washed from oft' the cheeks by tears ; and neither the one nor the oilier restorelh itself again for ever. As the pearl is dissolved by the vinegar, which seem- eth at first only lo obscure the surface ; so is thy hap- piness, Ohman! swallowed up by heaviness of heart, though at first it seemelh only to cover it with its shadow. Behold Sadness in the public streets : cast thine eyes upon her in the places of resort — doth any look upon her? avoided) she not every one? and dolh not every one flee from her presence? See how she droopelh her head, like the flower whose root is cut asunder ! see ho«' she fixeth her eyes upon THE MORALIST. 205 the earth: see how they serve her to no purpose but for weeping. Is there in her mouth discourse ? Is there in brer heart the love of society ? Is there in her mind rea- son ? Ask her the cause, and site knoweth it not: enquire the occasion, and behold there is none. Vet doth her strength fail her : lo ! at Kngth sho sinketh into the grave, and no one sayelh, what is be- come of her ? If we know the law of nature, wherefore do we complain of it r — if we are ignorant of it, what should we accuse but our b indness to what every moment giveth us proof of it ? Know that it is not thou that art to give laws to the world- ihy part is to submit to them as Ihou tindest them: if they distress thee, thy lamenting it but ad- deth to thy torment. Be nut deceived with fair pretences, nor suppose lhat sorrow hcaleth misfortune . it is a poison under the colour of a remedy ; while it preleudeth to draw the arrow from thy breast, lo ! it plungeth it into thine heart. While sadness separateth thee from thy friends, doth it not say Ihou art unlit for conversation ? while it driveth thee into comers, doth it not proclaim that it is ashamed of itself? It is not in thy nature to meet the arrows of ill for- tune unhurt, nor doth reason require it of thee: it is thy duty lo bear misfortune like a man ; but ihou must first also feel it like one. Tears may drop from thine eyes, though virtue fallelb not from thine heart : be Ihou careful only that there is cause, and that they How not loo abundantly. The greatness of the evil is not to be reckoned from the number of tears shed for it; the greatest griefs are above these testimonies, as the greatest joys are beyond utterance. What is there that wcakeneth the mind like grief? What depresseih it like sadness ? Is the sorrowful prepared for noble enterprises ? or armeth himself in Hie cause of virtue ? Subject not thyself to ills, where there are in return no advantages ; neither sacrifice thou the means of good unto that which is in itself an evil. 206 THE MORALIST. NOBILITY AND HONOUR. Nobility resideth not but in the mind, nor is there true honour except in virtue. Thefavuur af princes may be bought by vice ; rank and title may be purchased For money ; but these are wot true honours. Crimes cannot exalt a man to real glory; neither can gold nuke men noble. When titles are the reward of virtue— when he is set on high who hath served Uis country, he who bestow - eth the honours hatl> glory, like as he who receiveth them, and the world is benefited thereby. Wouldst thou wish to be raised, and men know not for«hat? or wouldst thou that tney should say, Why is this? When the virtues of the hero descend to his chil- dren, his titles accompany them : well— hut when he who possesseth them is unlike to him who deserveth them — io, do they not call him degenerate ? Hereditary honour i> accounted the most noble; but reason speaketh in the cause of him who hath ac- quired it. He who, meritiess himself, appcalelh to the actions of his ancestors for his greatness, is like the thief who claimeth protection by living to the pa god. W hat good is it to the blind that ins parents could see? Whit benelit is it to the dumb that his graud- tather was eloquent ? even so, what is it to the mean that their predecessors were noble ? A mind disposed to virtue ntaketh great the posses- sor of it ; and w ilhoiit titles it will raise him above the vulgar. He will acquire honour while others receive it? and will he not say unio them, such were the men whom thou gtoriestiu being derived from ? Astheshado.v vvaiteth on the substance, even so true honour attended', upon virtue. Say not that honour is the child of boldness, nor be- lieve thou that the hazard of lift: alone can pay the price of it; it is not to the action thai it is due, but to the manner of performing it, All are not called to the guiding of the helm of state ; neither are armies to be commanded by every one : du well in that which is committed to thy charge, and praise shall remain upon thee. Say not that difficulties are necessary to be cob THE MORALIST. 20/ qucred ; or that labour and danger must be in the way to renown ; the woman who is chaste, is she not praised; the man who is honest, deservetb he not to be honoured ? The thirst of fame is violent ; the desire of honour is powerful. When desperate actions are necessary to the pub- lic; when our lives are to be exposed lor the good of our country, what ran add force to virtue but ambi- tion ? It is not the receiving honour that delighteth the noble mind ; its pride is the deserving it. Is it not better men should >ay, why bat fa not this man a statue, tbati that they should ask why be hath one ? The ambitious will always be tirst in the crowd ; he presscvh forward, he lookelh not behind him ; more anguish i-> it to his mind to sec one before kirn, than joy to leave thousands at a distance. The root of ambition is in every man, but. it riseth rot in all ; dar keepctb it down iu some; in many it ia suppressed by modesty. It is the inner g irroeu't of the mind ; the lirst thing put ou by it with tne tlesh, and the last it layeth down at its separation from it. It is an honour to thy nature, when worthily em- ployed; when thju directest it to wrong purposes, it shame! h and destroyeth thee. In the breast of the traitor Ambition is covered; Hypocrisy bidelh his fice uuder her mantle, and cool Dissimulation luroishetb her with smooth words; but in the end, men shall see what she is. The serpent losclh not his sting, though benumbed with the frost ; the tooth of tne viper is not broken, though the. cold closeth his oioulb : take pity on his slate, and he will shew tine his spirit ; warm him in thy bosom, and lie will requite thee with death. He that is truly virtuous, loveth Virtue for herself : he d.-sdaineth the applause which Ambition aimeth after. How pitiable were the state of Virtue, if she could Dolbebappv but from another's praise! She is too noble to seek recompence, and no more will, than can be rewarded. The higher the sun riseth, the less shadow doth he make ; even so the greater is the virtue, the less dolii it covet praise ; ycl cannot it avoid its rewards iu ho- nours. 208 THE MORALIST. Glory, like a shadow, fiieth him who porsueth it ; but it follower!) at rhe heels of him who would fly from it ; if thou courtest it without merit, thou shalt never attain unto it ; if thou deservest it, though thou hidest thyself, it will never forsake thee. Pursue that which is honourable, do that which is right; and the applause of thine own conscience will be more joy to thee than the shouts of millions who know not that thou deservest them. SCIENCE AND LEARNING. The noblest employment of the mind of man is the study of the works of Nature. To him whom the science of nature delightetb, his life is one continual act of devotion. Casteth he his eye towards the clouds, lindeth he not the heavens fulfof wonders? Looketh he clown to the earth, doth not the worm proclaim to him— How wonderful is nature? What is the study of words compared with this? Wherein is knowledge, but in the study of Nature? When thou hast adored the fabric, enquire into its use; for know theearlh produccth nothing but may be of good to thee: are not food and raiment, and the remedies for thy diseases, all derived from the earth alone? Wiio is wise then but he that knowelh it? Who hath understanding but he that conlemplateth it ? ("or the rest, whatever science hath most utility— what- ever knowledge hath least vanity, prefer these unto others, and proht of them for the sake of thy neigh- bour ! To live and to die— to command and to obey— to do ;-ud to sutler, are not these all that thou hast to care >i!.out? morality shall teach these; the Economy of Life shall lay them before thee. Behold they are written in thine heart, and thou needest only to be reminded of them ; the) arc easy of conception; be attentive and thou shalt retain them. Justice and benevolence to thy fellow creatures, are they not thy great duties? What shall leach thee the one, or what shall inform thee of the other, like unto the study of the works of Nature ? (To be continued. J London : Printed and Published by R. Caulhk, 84, Fleet-street. ®%t JWoralfet No. 14, Vol. I. Price Twopence. SENECA, ON ANGER. We are here to encounter the most outrageous, brutal, dangerous, and intractable of all passions, the most loathsome and unmannerly, nay, the most ridiculous too, and the subduing of this monster will do a great deal toward the establishment of human peace. It is the method of physicians to begin with a description of the disease, before they meddle with the cure ; and I know not why this may not do as well in the distempers of the mind as in those of the body. The stoics will have anger to be— a desire of punish- ing another for some injury done. Against which, it is objected, that we are many times angry with those who never did hurt us, but possibly may, though the harm be not as yet done. But, I say, that they hurt us already id conceit, and the very purpose of it is an injury in thought, before it breaks out into an act. It is opposed again— that if anger were a de- sire of punishing, poor people would not be angry with rich ones, that are out of their reach ; for no man ran be said to desire anything which he judges im- possible to compass. But, I answer to this, that anger is the desire, not the power, and faculty of re- venge : neither is any man so low, but thatthe greatest man alive, may, peradventure, lie at his mercy. Aristotle takes anger to be— a desire of paying sorrow for sorrow, and of plaguing those that have plagued us. It is argued against both, that beasts are angry, though neither provoked by any injury, nor moved with a de- sire of any body's grief, or punishment; nay, though they cause it, they do not design to seek it. Neither is anger, ho-rv unreasonable soever in itself, found any where but in reasonable creatures. It is true, that beasts have an impulse of rageand tierceness, as they are more affected also than men with some pleasures; but we may as well call them luxurious and ambitious, as angry; and yet they are not without certain images London: Printed and Published byR. Carlim:, 84, Fleet-street. 210 THE MORALIST. of human affections. They have their likings and their loathings, but neither the passions of reasonable nature, nor our virtues, nor our vices. They are moved to fury by some objects, they are quieted by others ; they have their terrors and their disappoint- ments, but without reflection ; and let them be ever so irritated, or affrighted, so soon as ever the occasion is removed, they fall to their meat again, lie down, and take their res"t. Wisdom and thought are the goods of the mind, whereof brutes are wholly incapable ; and we are as unlike them within, as we are without : they have an odd kind of fancy, and they have a voice too, but inarticulate and confused, and incapable of those variations which are familiar to us. Anger is not only a vice, but a vice point blank against nature, for it divides instead of joining, and, in some measure, frustrates the end of human society. One man was born to help another : anger makes us destroy one another: the one unites, the other separates ; the one is beneficial to us, the other mischievous ) the one succours even strangers, the other destroys even the most intimate friends ; the one ventures all to save another, the other ruins himself to undo another. Nature is bountiful, but anger is pernicious ; for it is not fear, but mutual love that binds up mankind. There are some motions that look like anger, which cannot properly be called so; such as the humour in children, when, if they get a fall, will not cease to cry until the naughty ground is beaten, and then all is well again. They are" angry without any cause, or injury ; they are deluded by an imitation of strokes, and pacified with counterfeit tears. A false and child- ish sorrow is appeased with a revenge as false and childish. To descend to the particular brances and varieties would be unnecessary and endless. There is a stub- born, a vindictive, a quarrelsome, a violent, afroward, a sullen, a morose kind of anger ; aud then we have this variety in complication. One goes no further than words; another proceeds immediately to blows, without a word speaking ; a third sort breaks out into cursing and reproachful language; and there are those who content themselves with chiding and complaining. There is a conciliable, and there is an implacable anger : but in whatsoever form or degree it appears, all anger without exception is vicious. THE KISE OF ANGER. The question here will be— whether anger takes its THE MORALIST. 211 rise from impulse orjudgment ? whether it be moved of its own accord, or, as many other things are, from within us, that arise we know not how ? The clear- ing of this point will lead us to great matters. The lirst motion of anger is, in truth, involuntary, and only a kind of menacing preparation towards it. The second deliberates, as to say— this injury should not pass without a revenge ; and there it stops. The third is impotent, and, right or wrong, resolves upon vengeance. The lirst motion is not to be avoided, nor indeed the others, any more than yawuing for com- pany : custom and care may lessen them, but reason itself cannot overcome them. The second, as it rises upon consideration, it must so fall; for that motion which proceeds with judgment, may be taken away with judgment. A man thinks himself injured, and hath a mind to be revenged, but for some reason lets it rest. This is not properly anger, but an affection overruled by reason: a kind of proposal disapproved. And what are reason and affection, but changes of the mind, for better or for worse ? Reason deliberates before it judges; but anger passes sentence without deliberation. Reason attends the matter in hand ; but anger is startled at every accident : it passes the bounds of reason, and carries it away with it. It is the agitation of au assenting mind that proceeds to the resolution of revenge. There is no doubt but anger is moved by the appearance of an injury, but whether the motion be voluntary, or involuntary, is the point in debate ; though it seems manifest to me, that anger does nothing but where the mind goes along with it. For, first, to take an offence, and then to meditate a revenge ; and, after that, to lay both propositions to- gether, and say to myself this injury ought not to have been done ; but as the case stands, I must do myself right. This discourse cannot proceed without the concurrence of the will. The lirst motion indeed is single, but alt the rest is deliberation and super- structure : there is something understood and con- demned ; an indignation conceived, and a revenge propounded. This can never be wilhout the agree- ment of the mind to the matter in deliberation. The end of this question is, to know the nature and qua- lity of auger. If it be bred in us, it will never yield to reason, for all involuntary motions are inevitable and invincible ; as a kind of horror and shrugging upon the sprinkling of cold water ; the hair standing on end at ill news ; giddiness at the sight of a preci- 212 THE MORALIST. pice ; blushing at lewd discourse. In these cases, reason can do no good, but anger may undoubtedly be overcome by caution and good counsel ; for it is a vo- luntary vice, and not of the condition of those acci- dents that befal us as frailties of our humanity : amongst which must be reckoned the first motions of the mind, after the opinion of an injury received, which it is not in the power of human nature to avoid : and this is it that affects us upon the stage, or in a story. Can any roan read the death of Pompey, and not be touched with indignation ? The sound of a trumpet rouses the spirits, and provokes courage. It makes a man sad to see the shipwreck even of an enemy ; and we are much surprised by fear in other cases : all these motions are not so much affections as preludes to them. The clashing of arms, or the beating of a drum, excites a war-horse. Nay, a song from Xeno- phantes would make Alexander take his sword in his hand. In all these cases, the mind rather suffers than acts, and therefore it is not an affection to be moved, but to give way to that motion, and to follow willingly what was started by chance. These are not affections, but impulses of the body. The bravest man in the World may look pale -when be puts on his armour, bis knees knock, and his heart beats, before the battle is joined, but these are only motions ; whereas, anger is an excursion, and proposes revenge or punishment, which cannot be without the mind. As fear flies, so anger assaults ; and it is not possible to resolve, either upou violence, or caution, without the concurrence of the will. ANGER MAY BE SUPPRESSED. It is an idle thing to pretend that we cannot govern our anger ; for some things that we do are much harder than others that we ought to do : the wildest affections may be tamed by discipline, and there is hardlv any thiug which the mind will do, but it may do. There needs no more argument in this case, than the instances of several persons, both powerful and impatient, that have gotten the absolute mastery of themselves in this point. Thrasippus, in his drink, fell upon the cruelties of Pisistratus, who, when he was urged by several about him to make an example of him, returned this answer, — " Why should I be angry with a man who stumbles upon me blindfold ?'' In effect, most of our quarrels are of our own making, either by mistake, or by ag- THE MORALIST. 213 gravation. Anger comes sometimes upon us, but we go oflencr to it, and, instead of rejecting, we call it. Augustus was a great master of Uis passion, for Ti- magenus, an historian, wrote several bitter things against, his person and his family, which passed among the people plausible enough, as pieces of rash wit com- monly do: Cassar advised him several times to for- bear,' and when that would not do, forbad him his roof. After this, Asinius Pollio gave him entertain- ment, and he was so well beloved in the city, that every man's house was open to him. Those things that he had written in honour of Augustus, he recited and burnt, and publioly professed himself Caesar's enemy. Augustus, for all this, never fell out with any man who received him ; only once he told Pollio that he had taken a snake into his bosom : and as Pol- lio was about to excuse himself—" >.'o," says Caesar, interrupting him, " make your best of him ;" and of- fering to cast him off at tha't moment, if Cajsar pleased, " Do you think," says Cassar, " that I, who made you frieuds, will ever contribute to your separation ?" for Pollio had been angry with him, and only entertained him now, because Caesar had discarded him. The moderation of Antigonus was remarkable.— Some of his soldiers were railing at him one night, w here there was but a hanging betwixt them : Antigo- nus overheard them, and putting it gently aside, " Sol- diers," says he, "stand a little farther off, for fear the King should hear you." And we are to consider, not only violent, but moderate examples, where there wanted neither cause of displeasure, nor power of re- venge: as in the case of Antigonus, who, the same night, hearing bis soldiers cursing him for bringing them into so foul away, went to them, and, without telling them who he was, helped them out of it. — " Now," says he, " you may be allowed to curse him that brought you into the mire, provided you bless him that took you out of it." It was a strong provocation which was given to Phi- lip of Macedon, the father of Alexander :— the Athe- nians sent their Ambassadors to him, and they were received with this compliment,—" Tell me, gentle- men," says Philip, " what is there that lean do to oblige the Athenians?" Democharas, one of the Am- bassadors, told him, that they would take it for a great obligation, if he would be pleased to hang him- self. This insolence raised an indignation in tbe by- standers, but Philip bad them not to meddle with him, 214 THE MORALIST. but to let the foul mouthed fellow go as be came. — " And for you, the rest of the Ambassadors," says he, " pray tell the Athenians, that it is worse to speak such things, than to hear and forgive them." This wonderful patience under contumelies was a great means of Philip's security. IT IS A SHORT MADNESS. He was much in the right, whoever it was, that first called anger a short madness, for they have both of them the same symptoms, and there is so wonderful a resemblance between the transports of choler and those of pbrensy, that it is difficult to distinguish the one from the other. A bold, fierce, and threatening coun- tenance, as pale as ashes, and in the same moment as red as blood ; a glaring eye, a wrinkled brow, violent motions, the hands restless, and perpetually in action, wringing and menacing, snapping of the joints, stamp- ing with the feet, the hair staring, trembling lips, a forced and squeaking voice, the speech false and broken, deep and frequent sighs, and ghastly looks; the veius swell, the heart pants, the knees knock, with a hundred dismal accidents that are common to both distempers. Neither is anger a bare resemblance only of that madness, but many times an irrevocable tran- sition into the thing itself How many persons have we known, read, and beard of, that have lost their wits in a passion, and never came to themselves agaiu? It is, therefore, to be avoided, not only for moderation sake, but also for health. Now, if the outward ap- }>earanee of anger be so foul and hideous, how de- brmed must that miserable mind be that is harassed with it? for it leaves no place either for counsel or friendship; honesty, or good manners ; no place either for the exercise of reason, or for the offices of life. — If I were to describe it, I would draw a tiger bathed in blood, sharp set, and ready to take a leap at his prey; or dress it up as the poets represent the furies, with whips, snakes, and flames: it should be sour, li- vid, full of scars, and wallowing in gore, raging up and down, destroying, grinning, bellowing, and pur- suing, sick of all other things, and most of all of itself. It turns beauty into deformity, and the calmest coun- sels into fierceness: it disorders our very garments, and fills the mind with horror. How abominable is it in the soul, then, when it appears so hideous even through the bones, the skin, and so many impedi- ments ? Is not he a madman, who has lost the govern- THE MORALIST. 215 mentof himself; and is tossed hither and thither by his fury, as by a tempest ; the executioner of his own revenge, both with his heart and band, and the mur- derer of his nearest friends? The smallest matter moves it, and makes us unsociable and inaccessible. — It does all things by violence, as well upon itself as others, and it is, in short, the master of all passions. There is not any creature so terrible and dangerous by nature, but it becomes fiercer by anger. Not that beasts have human affections ; but certain impulses they have, which come very near to them. The boar loams, champs, and whets his tusks; the bull tosses his horns in the air, bounds, and tears up the ground with his feet ; the lion roars, and swinges himself with his tail ; the serpent swells, and there is a ghastly kind of fellness in the aspect of a mad dog. How great a wickedness is it now to indulge a violence, that does not only turn a man into a beast, but makes even the most outrageous of beasts themselves to be more dreadful and mischievous! a vice, that carries with it neither pleasure nor profit, neither honour nor secu- rity ; but, on the contrary, destroys us to all the com- fortable and glorious purposes of our reasonable be- ing. Some there are, who will have the root of it to be greatness of mind. And why may we not as well entitle impudence to courage: whereas the one is proud, the other brave ; the one is gracious and gen- tle, the other rude and furious ? At the same rate, we may ascribe magnanimity to avarice, luxury, and am- bition, which are all but splendid impotencies, without measure and without foundation. There is nothing great but what is virtuous, nor indeed truly great, but what is also composed and quiet. Anger, alas! is but a wild impetuous blast, an empty tumour, the very in- firmity of women and children, a brawling clamorous evil: and the more noise the less courage; as we find it commonly, that the boldest tongues have the faintest hearts. ANGER IS NEITHER WARRANTABLE NOR USEFUL. In the first place, anger is as unwarrantable as it is unjust, for it falls many times upon the wrong person, and discbarges itself upon the innocent, instead of the guilty; beside the disproportion of making the most trivial offences to be capital, and punishing an incon- siderate word perhaps with torments, fetters, infamy, or death. It allows a man neither time, nor means of defence, but judges a cause without hearing it, and ad- 216 THE MORALIST. mits of no mediation. It flies into the face of trnth itself, if itbeofthe adverse party; and turns obsti- nacy into error, into an argument of justice. It does every thing with agitation and tumult ; whereas rea- son and equity can destroy whole families, if there be occasion for it, even to the extinguishing of their names and memories, without any indecency, either of countenance or action. Secondly, it is unsociable to the highest point, for it spares neither friend nor foe, but tears all to pieces, and casts human nature into a perpetual state of war. It dissolves the bond of mutual society, insomuch that our very companions and relations dare not come near us; it renders us unfit for the ordinary offices of life, for we can neither govern our tongues, our hands, nor any part of our body. It tramples upon the laws of hospi- tality and of nations, leaves every man to be his own carver, and all things, public and private, sacred and profane, suffer violence. Thirdly, it is to no purpose. It is a sad thing, we cry, to put up with these injuries, and we are not able to bear them ; as if any man that can bear anger, could not bear an injury, which is much more sup- portable. You will say, that anger does some good, for it keeps people in "awe, and secures a man from contempt ; never consideringthat it is more dangerous to be feared than despised. Suppose that an angry man could do as much as he threatens ; the more ter- rible, he is still the more odious ; and, on the other side, if he wants power, he is the more despicable for bis anger ; for there is nothing more wretched than a choleric huff, that makes a noise, and nobody cares forit. If anger be valuable, because men are afraid of it, why not an adder, a toad, or a scorpion. It makes us lead the life of gladiators ; wo live, and we fight together. TVe hate the happy, despise the mi- serable, envy our superiors, insultour inferiors, and there is nothing but we are ready to do for pleasure or profit. To be angry at offenders, is to make ourselves the common enemies of mankind, which is both weak and wicked; and we may as well be angry that our thistles do not bring forth apples, or that every pebble in our ground is not an Oriental pearl. If we are an- gry, both with young men and with old, because they do offend, why'not with infants, because they will of- fend ? It is laudable to rejoice for any thing that is well done; but to be transported for another man's doing ill is narrow and sordid. Nor is it for the dig- THE MORALIST. 217 nity of virtue to be either angry, or sad. It is with a taiuled miud as with an ulcer, not only the touch, bu^ the very offer at it makes us shrink and complain i when we come once to be carried oil' from our prize* we are lost. It concerns us much to be wary of en- gaging in the excesses of ungovernable passions. It is not altogether the speed of a horse that pleases us, unless we und that he can slop and turn at pleasure. It is a sign of weakness and a kind of stumbling, for a man to run when he intends only to walk ; and it be- hoves us to have the same command of our mind that we have of our bodies. Besides that, the greatest pu- nishment of an injury is the conscience of having done it ; and no man sutlers more, than he that is turned over to the pain of a repentance. How much better is it to compose injuries than to revenge them ; for it docs not only spend time, but the revenge of one injury exposes us to more. In fine, as it is unreasonable to be angry at a crime, it is foolish to be angry without one. But may not an honest man, then, be allowed to be anury at the murder of his father, or the injury of his sister or daughter, before his face ? No, not at all ; I willdefendmy parents, andl will repay the injuries that are done; but it is my piety, and not my anger, that moves meto it. I will domy duty without fear or con- fusion ; I will not rage, I will not weep, but discharge the office of a good man, without forfeiting the dignity of a man. If my father be assaulted, I will endeavour to rescue him; if he be killed, I will do right to his me- mory ; and all this not in any transport of passion, but in honour and conscience. Neither is there any need of anger, where reason does the same thing. A man may be temperate, and yet vigorous, and raise his mind according to the occasion, more or less, as a stone is thrown according to the discretion and intent of the caster. How outrageous have I seen some peo- plefortbe loss of a monkey, or a spaniel ; and were it not a sbame to have the same sense for a friend that we have for a puppy ; and to cry like children as much for a bauble as for the ruin of our country ? this is not an effect of reason, but of infirmity. For a man in- deed to expose his person for his prince, or for his pa- rents, or his friends, out of a sense of honesty, and a judgment of duty, it is, without dispute, a worthy and a glorious action ; but it must be done then with sobriety, calmness, and resolution. It is high time to convince the world of the indignity and uselessness of 218 THE MORALIST. this passion, when it has the authority and recom- mendation of no less than Aristotle himself, as an af- fection very much conducing to all heroic actions, that require heat and vigour. Now, to show, on the other side, that it is not in any case profitable, we shall lay open the obstinate and unbridled madness of it; a wickedness, neither sensible of infamy, nor of glory ; without either modesty or fear; and if it passes once from anger into a hardened hatred, it is incurable. It is either stronger than reason, or it is weaker. If stronger, there is no contending with it ; if weaker, reason will do the business without it. Some will have it that an angry man is good natured and sincere, whereas, in truth, he only lays himself open out of heedlessness, and want of caution. If it were in it- self good, the more of it the better ; but in this case, the more the worse ; and a wise man does his duty without the aid of any thing that is ill. It is objected by some, that those are the most generous creatures which are the most prone to anger. But first, anger in man, is impetuosity in beasts. Secondly, without discipline it runs into audaciousnsss and temerity; overand above that, the same thing does not help all. If anger helps the lion, it is fear that saves the stag, swiftness the hawk, and flight the pigeon. And yet it is not amiss sometimes to counterfeit anger, as upon the stage; nay, upon the bench, and in the pulpit, where the imitation of it is more effectual than tho thing itself. But it is great error, to take this pas- sion either for a companion or for an assistant to vir- tue; that makes a man incapable of those necessary counsels by which virtue is to govern herself. Those are false and inauspicious powers, and destructive of themselves, which arise only from the accession and fervour of a disease. Reason judges according to right; anger will have every thing seem right what- ever it does, and when it has once pitched upon a mis- take, it is never to be convinced, but prefers a perli- naoy, even in the greatest evil, before the most ne- cessary repentance. Some people are of opinion, that anger inflames and animates the soldier, that it is a spur to bold and ar- duous undertakings, and that it were better to mode- rate than wholly suppress it, for fear of dissolving the spirit and force of the mind. To this I answer, that virtue does uot need the help of vice, but where there is any ardour of mind necessary, we may rouse ourselves, and be more or less bris'k and THE MORALISI' 219 vigorous, as there is occasion, but all without anger still. It is a mistake, to say, that we may make use of anger as a common soldier, but not as a commander ; for, if it hears reason and follows orders, it is not pro- perly anger; and if it does not, it is contumacious and mutinous. By this argument, a man must be angry to be valipnt, covetous to be industrious, timor- ous to be safe, which makes our reason confederate with our affections. And it is all one, whether passion be inconsiderate without reason, or reason ineffectual without passion, since the one cannot be without the other. It is true, the less the passion, the less is the mischief; for a little passion is a smaller evil. Nay, so far is it from being of use or advantage in the field, that it is the place of all others where it is the most dangerous ; for the actions of war are to be managed with order and caution, not precipitation and fancy: whereas anger is heedless and heady, and the virtue only of barbarous nations, which, though their bodies were much stronger, and more hardened, were still worsted by the moderation and discipline of the Ro- mans. The huntsman is not angry with the wild boar, when he either pursues or receives him. It is one of the prime lessons in a fencing school, to learn not to be angry. If anger makes a man tight better, so does wine, phrensy, nay, and fear itself; for the greatest coward in despair does the greatest wonders. No man is courageous in his anger, that was not so without it. But put the case, that anger, by accident, may have done some good, and so have fevers removed some distempers ; but it is an odious kind of remedy, that makes us indebted to a disease for a cure. How many men have been preserved by poison, by a fall from a precipice, by a shipwreck, by a tempest ? Does it therefore follow that we are to recommend the prac- tice of these experiments ? But in the case of a dissolution of manners, when Clodius shall be preferred, and Cicero rejected ; when loyalty shall be broken upon the wheel, and treason sit triumphant upon the bench, is not this a subject to move the choler of any virtuous man ? No, by no means, virtue will never allow of the correct- ing of one vice by another ; or that anger, which is the greater crime of the two, should presume to pu- nish the less. It is the natural property of virtue to make a man serene and cheerful, and it is not for the dignity of a philosopher to be transported either with grief or anger ; and then the end of anger is sorrow, 220 THE MORALIST. the constant effects ofdisappointmentand repentance. But to my purpose— if a man should be angry at wickedness, the greater the wickedness is, the greater must be his anger ; and so long as there is wickedness in the world, he must never be pleased ; which makes his quiet dependent upon the humour or manners of others. There passes not a day over our heads, but he that is choleric shall have some cause or other of displeasure, either from men, accidents, or business. He shall never stir out of his house, but he shall meet with criminals of all sorts, prodigal, impudent, covet- ous, perfidious, contentious; children persecuting their parents, parents cursing their children ; the in- nocent accused, the delinquent acquitted, and the judge practising that in his chamber, which he con- demns upon the bench : in fine, wherever there are men there are faulls ; and upon these terms, Socrates himself should never bring the same countenance home again that he carried out with him. If anger were suflerable in any case, it might be allowed against an incorrigible criminal under the hand ofjustice; but punishment is not matter of anger, but of caution. The law is without passion, and strikes malefactors as we do serpents, aud venemous creatures, for fear of greater mischief. It is not for the dignity of a judge, when he comes to pronounce the fatal sentence, to express any motions of anger in his looks, words, or gestures : for he condemns the vice, not the man; and looks upon the wickedness without anger, as he does upon the prosperity of wicked men without envy. But though he be not angry, I would have him a little moved, in point of humanity ; but yet without any offence either to his place or wisdom! Our passions vary, but reason is equal, and it were a great folly for that which is stable, faithful, and sound, to repair for succour to that which is uncertain, false, and distempered. If the offender be incurable, take him out of the world, that if he will not be good, be may cease to be evil ; but this must be without anger too. Does any man hate an arm, or a leg, when he cuts it off? or reckon that a passion, which is only a miserable cure ? We knock mad doss on the head, and remove scabbed sheep out of the fold ; and this is not anger still, but reason, to separate the sick from the sound. Justice cannot be angry ; nor is there any need of an angry magistrate for the punishment of foolish and wicked men. The power of life and death must not be managed with THE MORALIST. 221 passion. We give a horse the spur, that is restiff, or jadisb, and tries to cast his rider ; but this is without anger, too, and only to take down his stomach, and bring him by correction to obedience- It is true,' that correction is necessary, yet within reason and bounds ; for it does not hurt,' but profit us under an appearance of barm. Ill dispositions in the mind are to be dealt with as those in the body ; the physician first tries purging and abstinence; if this will not do, he proceeds to bleeding, nay, to dismem- bering, rather than fail j for there is no operation too severe that ends in health. The public magistrate begins with persuasion, and his business is, to beget a detestation for vice, and a veneration for virtue, from tbence, if need be, he advances to admonition and reproach, and then to punishments ; but moderate, and revocable, unless the wickedness be incurable, and then the punishment must be so too. There is ouly this difference, the physician, when he can- not save his patient's life, endeavours to make bis death easy ; but the magistrate aggravates the death of the criminal with infamy and disgrace, not as delighting in the severity of it, for no good man can be so barbarous, but for example, and to the end that they who will do no good living, may do some by dying. The end of all eorrectiou is, either the amendment of wicked men, or to prevent the influence of ill example: for men are punished with a respect to the future, not to expiate offences commit- ted, but for fear of worst to come. Public offenders must be a terror to others; but still, all this while, the power of life and death must not be managed with pas- sion. The medicine, in the mean time, must be suited to the disease : infamy cures one, pain another, exile a third, beggary a fourth, but there are some that are only to be cured by the gibbet. I would be no more angry with a thief, or a traitor, than with myself when I opeu a vein. All punishment is but a moral, or civil remedy. I do not do any thing that is very ill, but yet I transgress often. Try me first with a private repre- hension, then with a public one ; if that will not serve, see what banishment will do ; if not that either, load me with chains, lay me in a prison ; but if I should prove wicked, even for wickedness sake, and have no hope of reclaiming me, it would be a kind of mercy to destroy me. Vice is incorporated with me, and there is no remedv, but the taking of both away together ; but still without anger. 222 THE MORALIST. THE ECONOMY OF HUMAN LIFE. ( Concluded from p. 208.) PROSPERITY AND ADVERSITY. Lei not prosperity elate thy heart above measure ; neither let thy mind "be depresssed unto the grave, be- cause fortune beareth hard against thee. Her smiles are not stable, therefore build not thy confidence upon them ; her frowns endure not for ever, therefore let hope teach thee patience. To bear adversity well is difficult ; but to be tempe- rate in prosperity is the height of wisdom. Good and ill are the test by which thou art to know thy constancy ; nor is there aught else that can tell thee the powers of thy own mind ; be therefore watch- ful when these are upon tbee. Behold Prosperity, how sweetly she flattereth thee ! how insensibly she robbeththeeof thy strength and tby vigour! Though thou hast been constant in ill-fortune — though thou hast been invincible in distress, yet by her thou art conquered ; not knowing that thy strength returneth not again, and yet that thou again mayest need it. Affliction moveth our enemies to pity ; success and happiness cause even our friends to envy. Adversity is the seed of well doing ! it is the nurse of heroism and boldness: who that hath enough, will en- danger himself to have more ? who that is at ease, will set his life on the hazard ? TrHe virtue will act under all circumstances ; but men see most of its effects when accidents occur. In adversity man seeth himself abandoned by others ; hefindetu that all his hopes are centred within him- self: he rouseth his mind; he encountereth his diffi- culties, and they yield before him. In prosperity' he fancieth himself safe— he tbinketh that he is beloved of all that smile about, his table— he grovvetb careless and remiss— he seeth not the danger that is before him— he trusteth to others, and in the end they deceive him. Every man can advise his own mind in distress ; but prosperity blindeth the truth. Better is the sorrow that leadeth to contentment, THE MORALIST. 223 than tbejoy that rendcreth man unable to endure dis- tress, and afterwards plungeth him into it. Our passions dictate to us in all our extremes; mo- deration is the effect of wisdom. Be upright in thy whole life, be content in all its changes ; so shalt thou make thy proiit out of all oc- currences ; so shall every thing that happenelh unto thee bo the source of praise. The wise maketh every thing the means of advan- tage ; and with the same countenance beholdeth he all the faces of Fortune ; he governeth the good— he con- quereth the evil— he is unmoved in all. Presume not in prosperity, neither despair in adver- sity ; court not dangers, nor meanly fly from before them ; dare to despise whatever will not remain with thee. Let not adversity tear offthe wings of hope, neither let prosperity obscure the light of prudence. He who despaireth of the end, shall never attain unto it; and he who seeth not the pit, shall perish therein. He who calleth prosperity his good— who halh said unto ker, " With thee will I establish my happi- ness :" lo! he anchoreth his vessel in a bed ol* sand which the return of the tide washclh away. As the water tbatpasselh from the mountains kiss- eth, in its way to the ocean, every held that borderetb the rivers— as it tarrieth not in any place, even so For- tune visiteth the sons of men , her motion is incessant, she will not stay — she is unstable as the winds: how then will thou hold her? when she kisseth thee, thou art blessed; but behold as thou turnest to thank her, she is gone unto another. PAIN AND SICKNESS. The sickness of the body affecteth even the mind, the one cannot be in health without the other. Pain is of all ills that which is most felt; and it is that from which nature hath the fewest remedies. When thy constancy faileth thee, call in thy reason : when thy patience quitteth thee, call in thy hope. To suffer is a necessity entailed upon thy nature; wouldst thou that miracles should protect thee from it? or shalt thou repine because it happeneth unto thee, when lo ! it happeneth unto all. 224 THE MORALIST. It is injustice to expect exemption from that tbou wert born unto; submit with modesty to tbe laws of thy condition. Wouldst thou say to the seasons, pass not on, lest I grow old ? Is it not better to suffer with an equal mind that which thou canst not avoid ? Pain that endureth long:, is moderate ; blush, there- fore, to complain o!" it '.—that which is violent, is short; behold thon seestthe end of it. As the wise afflicleth not himself, because a thorn teareth his garment; so the patient grieveth not his mind, because that which covereth it, is injured. As the production of the metal proveth the work of the alchemist, so is death the test of our lives, the essay which sheweth the standard of all our actions. Wouldst thou judge of a life, examine the period of it: the end crowneth the attempt; and where dissi- mulation-is no more, there truth appeareth. He hath not spent his life ill who knoweth to die well ; neither can he have lost all his time, who era- ployeth the last portion of it to his honour. He was not born in vain who diethas he ought; nei- ther hath he lived unprofitably who dieth happily. He that considereth he is to die, is content while he liveth: be who striveth to forget it, hath no pleasure in any thing; his joy appeareth to him a jewel which he expecteth every moment he shall lose. Wouldst thou learn to die nobly, let thy vices die before thee. Happy is he who endeth the business of his life before his death ; who, when the hour cometh, hath nothing to do but to die ; w ho wisheth not delay, because he bath no longer use for time. Avoid not death, for it is a weakness; fear it not, for thou understandest not what it is; all that thou certainly knowestis this, that it putteth an end to thy sorrows. Think not tbe longest life the happiest: that which is best employed, doth man the most honour. London : Printed and Published by R. Carljie, 84, Fleet-street. Wfyt JWoraltet No. 15, Vol. I. Price Twopence. SENECA, ON ANGER. {Continued from p. 221.) There is no surer argument of a great mind, than not to be transported to anger by any accident; the clouds and the tempests are formed below, but alt above is quiet and serene, which is the emblem of a brave man, who suppresses all provocations, and lives within himself, modest, venerable, and composed: whereas, anger is a turbulent humour, which, at first dash, casts oft' all shame, without any regard to order, measure, or good manners, transporting a man into misbecoming violences, with his tongue, his hands, and every part of his body. And whoever considers the foulness and the brutality of this vice, must ac- knowledge that there is no such monster in nature, as one man raging against another, and labouring to sink that which can never be drowned, but with himself in company. It renders us incapable either of discourse, or of other common duties. It is of all passions the most powerful j for it makes a man that is in love to kill his mistress ; the ambitious man to trample upon his honours, and the covetous to throw away his for- tune. There is not a mortal that lives free from the danger of it, for it makes even the heavy and the good-natured to be fierce and courageous : it invades us like a pestilence, the lusty as well as the weak ; and it is not either strength of body, or a good diet, that can secure us against it ; nay, the most learned, and men of otherwise exemplary sobriety, are infested with it. It is so potent a passion, that Socrates dared not to trust himself with it. u Sirrah," says he to his man, " now L would beat you, if I were not angry with you." There is no age, nor sect of men, that escapes it. Other vices take us one by one, but this, like au London : Printed and Published by R. Carliie, 84, Fleet-street. 226 THE MORALIST. epidemical contagion, sweeps all; men, women, and children, princes and beggars, are carried away with, it in shoals and troops, as one man. It was never seen, that a whole nation was in love with one woman, or unanimously bent upon one vice, but here and there, some particular men are tainted with some particular crimes; whereas in anger, a single word many times inflames the whole multitude, and men betake them- selves presently to lire and sword upon it. When, men's minds are struck with the opinion of an injury, they fall on immediately, wheresover their passion leads them, without either order, fear, or caution; provoking: their own mischief ; never at rest until they come to blows, and pursuing their revenge even with their bodies upon the point of the weapons of their enemies. So that the anger itself is much more hurt • ful to us than the injury that provokes it ; for the one is bounded, but where the other will stop, no one knows. There are no greater slaves than they who serve anger ; lor they improve their misfortunes by an impatience more insupportable than the calamity that causes it. Nor does it rise by degrees, as other passions, but flashes like gunpowder, blowing up all in a moment. Neither does it only press to the mark, but overbears every thing in the way to it. Other vices drive us, but this hurries us headlong : other passions stand firm, but this consumes and destroys itself: it falls like thunder, or a tempest, with an irrevocable violence, that gathers strength in the passage, and then evapo- rates in Ihe conclusion. Other vices are unreasonable, but this is unhealthful too: otherdistempers have their intervals and degrees, but in this we are thrown down as from a precipice: there is not any thing so amusing to others or so destructive to itself; so proud and in- solent if it succeeds, or so extravagant if it be disap- pointed. No repulse discourages it, and for want of other matter to work upon, it falls foul of itself, and let the ground be ever so trivial, it is sufficient for the wildest outrage imaginable. It spares neither age, sex, nor quality. SoniG people would be luxurious, were they not poor ; others lazy, were they not perpe- tually kept at work. The simplicity of a country life keeps many men in ignorance of the frauds and im- pieties of courts and camps: but no uation, or condi- tion of men, is exempt from the impressions of an- ger, and it is as dangerous in war as in peace. We find that elephants will be made familiar, bulls will suf- THE MORALIST. 227 fer children to ride upon their backs, and play with their horns, bears and lions, by good usage, will bo brought to fawn upon their masters; how desperate a madnes is it, then, for men, after the reclaiming of the tiercest of beasts, and bringing them to be tract- able and domestic, to become yet worse than beasts to one another ? Why do wo not rather make the best of a short life, and render ourselves amiable to all whilst we live, and desirable when we die ? Let us bethink ourselves of our mortality, and not squander away the little time that we have upon ani- mosities and feuds, as if it were never to be at an end. Had we not better enjoy the pleasure of our own life, than be still contriving to gall and tormentanother's ? in all our brawlings and contentions, neverso much as dreaming of our weakness. Do we not know that these implacable enmities of ours lie at the mercy of a lever, or any petty accident to disappoint? Our fate is at hand, and the very hour that we have set for another man's death, may, peradventure, be pre- vented by our own. What is it that we make all this bustle for, and so needlessly disquiet our minds? We are offended with our servants, our masters, our princes, our clients; a little patience, and we shall be all equal ; so that there is no need either of am- bushes or combats. Our wrath cannot go beyond death; and death will undoubtedly come, whether we be peevish or quiet. It is time lost to take pains to do that which will infallibly be done without us. But suppose that we would only have our enemy banished, disgraced, or damaged, let bis punishment be more or less, it is yet too long, either for him to be in- humanly tormented, or for us to be most barbarously pleased with it. It holds in anger, as in mourning, it must and will at last fall of itself; then let us look to it^betimes ; for when it is once come to an ill habit, we shall never want matter to feed it; and it is much better to overcome oar passions than to be overcome by them ; some way or other, either our parents, children, servants, acquaintances, or strangers, will be continually vexing us. We are tossed hither and thither by our affections, like a feather in a storm, and by fresh provocations the madness becomes per- petual. Miserable creatures! that ever our precious hours should be so ill employed ! how prone and eager are we in our hatred, and how backward in our love! Were it not much better to be making friendships, pacifying enemies, doing good offices, both public 228 THE MORALIST. and private, than to be stil! meditating of mischief, and designing bow to wound one man in his fame, another in his fortune, a third in his person? the one being so easy, innocent, and safe, and the other so difficult, impious, and hazardous. Nay, take a man in chains, and at the foot of his oppressor, how many are there, who, even in this case, have maimed themselves in the heat of their violence upon others. This untractable passion is much more easily kept out, than governed, when it is once admitted ; for the stronger will give laws to the weaker ; and make rea- son a slave to the appetite. It carries us headlong, and, in the course of our fury, we have no more com- mand of our minds than we have of our bodies down a precipice ; when they are once in motion, there is no stop until they come to the botlom. Not that it is possible for a man to be warm in winter, and not to perspire in summer, cither by the benefit of the place, or the hardiness of the body ; and, in like manner, we may provide against anger. But certain it is, that virtue and vice can never agree in the same subject ; and, as a man cannot be siek and sound at the same time, neither can he be good and angry. Beside, if we must be qurrelsome, it must be with our superior, our equal, or our inferior. To contend with our su- periors is folly and madness, with our equals it is doubtful and dangerous, and with our inferiors it is base. Nor does any man know but that he who is now his enemy, may hereafter become a friend, over and above the reputation of clemency and good na- ture. And what can be more honourable, or comfort- able, than to exchange a feud for a friendship ? The people of Rome never hadraore failhful allies than those that were at first the most obstinate enemies: neither had the Roman Empire arrived at that height of power, but for mingling the conquered with the conquerors. There is an end of the contest when one side deserts it ; so that the paying of anger with be- nefits puts a period to the controversy. If it bo our misfortune to transgress, let not our anger descend to the children, friends, or relations, even of our most bitter enemies. The very cruelty of Sylla was heightened by that instance of incapacitating the issue of the proscribed. It is inhuman to intail the haired we have for the father upon his posterity. A good and a wise man is not to be an enemy of wicked men, but a reprover ; and he is to look upon all th* drunkards, the lustful, the thankless, the covetous, THE MORALIST. 229 and tbc ambitious, whom he may meet, as the phy- sician looks upon his patients ; for, he who will be angry with any man, must be displeased with all ; which were as ridiculous, as to quarrel with a body lor stumbling in the dark ; with one that is deaf, for not doing as you bid him: or with a schoolboy, for loving his play better than his book. It is the most detestable of vices, even if compared vviiti the worst of them. Avarice scrapes and gathers together, that which somebody may be the better for: but anger lashes o; t, and no man comes oft* gratis. An angry master makes one servant run away, and another hang himself, and his choler causes him much greater loss than he suffered in the occasiou of it. It is the cause of mourning to the father, and of divorce to the husband ; it makes the magistrate odious, and gives the candidate a repulse. It is worse than lux- ury, which only aims at its proper pleasure ; whereas, the other is bent upon giving pain to another. The malevolent, and the envious, content themselves only \o wish another man miserable ; but it is the business of anger to make him so, and to wreak the mischief itself, not so much desiring the hurt of another, as to inflict it. Among the powerful it breaks out into open war, and into private war among the common people, but without force or arms. It engages us in trea- cheries, perpetual troubles and contentions: it alters the very nature of a man, and punishes itself in the persecution of others. Humanity excites ns to love, this to hatred ; that to be beneficial to others, this to hurt them j beside that, though it proceeds from too high a conceit of ourselves, it is yet, in effect, but a narrow and contemptible affection, especially when it meets with a mind that is hard and impenetrable, and returns the dart upon the head of him that casts it. THE ORDINARY GROUNDS AND OCCASIONS OF ANGER. Id this wandering state of life, we meet with many occasions of trouble and displeasure, both great and trivial, and not a day passes, but from men, or things, we have some cause or other for offence ; as a man must expect to be justled, dashed, and crowded, in a populous city. One man deceives our expectation, another delays it ; and if every thing does not succeed to our wish, we presently fall out, either with person, the business, the place, our fortune, or ourselves. — Same men value themselves upon their wit, and will 230 THE MORALIST. never forgive any one that pretends to lessen it; others are inflamed by wine; and S'.me are distem- pered by sickness, weariness, watchings, love, care, &c. Some are prone to it by heat of constitution ; but moist, dry, and cold complexions, are more liable to other affections, as suspicion, despair, fear, jealousy, &c. But most of our quarrels are of our own contriv- ing. One while we suspect upon mistake, another while we magnify trifles. To say the truth, most of those things that exasperate us, are rather subjects of disgust than of mischief. There is a large difference between opposing a man's satisfaction, and not assist- ing it ; between taking away, and not giving; but we reckon upon denying and deferring as the same thing, and interpret another's being for himself, as if he were against us. Nay ; we often entertain an ill opinion of well doing, and a good one of the contrary : and we hate a man for doing that very thing which we should hate him for on the other side, if he did not do it. — We take it ill to be opposed, when there is a father, a brother, or a friend, in the case against us, but we should rather love a man for it, and content ourselves with wishing that he could be honestly of our party. "We approve of the fact, and detest the doer of it. It is a base thing to hate the person whom we cannotbut commend ; but it is a great deal worse yet, if we hate him for the very thing that deserves commendation. — The things that we desire, if they be such as cannot be given to one, without being taken away from another, must needs set those people by the ears, who desire the same thing. One man bas'a design upon my mis- tress, another upon mine inheritance, and that which should make friends, makes enemies ; our being all of one mind. The general cause of anger is, the sense or opinion of an injury ; that is, the opinion either of an injury simply done, or of an injury done which we have not deserved. Some are naturally given to an- ger, others are provoked to it by occasion; the anger of women and children is commonly sharp, but not lasting; old men are rather querulous and peevish. — Hard labour, diseases, anxiety of thought, and what- soever hurts the body or the mind, disposes a man to be froward, but we must not add fire to tire. He that duly considers the subject matter of all con- troversies and quarrels, will find them low and mean, not worth the thoughts of a generous mifid; but the greatest noise of all is about money. This is it that sets fathers and children by the ears, husbands and THE MORALIST. 231 wives, and makes way for sword and poison : this is it that wearies our Courts of Justice, enrages our princes, and lays cities in the dust, to seek for gold and silver in the ruins of them. This is it that makes work for the Judge, to determine which side is least in the wrong; and whose is the most plausible ava- rice, the plaintiff's or the defendant's. And what is it that we contend for, but those baubles that make us cry when we should laugh ? To see a rich old cuff, that has nobody to leave his estate to, break his heart for a handful of dirt, and a gouty usurer, that has no other use of his lingers but to count, to see him, I say, in the extremity of bis fit, wrangling for the odd mo- ney in his interest:— if all that is precious in nature was gathered into one mass, it would not bo worth the trouble of a sober mind. It were endless to run over all those ridiculous passions that are moved about meats and drinks, and the matter of luxury; nay, about words, looks, actions, jealousies, mistakes, which are all of them as contemptible fooleries as those very baubles that children scratch and cry for. There is nothing great, or serious, in all that which we keep up such a clatter about ; the madness of it is, that we set too great a value upon trifles. One man flies out upon a salute, a letter, a speech, a question, a gesture, a wink, a look. An action moves one man, a word af- fects another; one man is tender of his family, another of his person ; one sets up for an orator, another for a philosopher; this man will not bear pride, nor that man opposition. He who plays the tyrant at home, is as gentle as a lamb abroad. Some take offence if one man ask a favour of them, and others if he does not. — Every man has his weak side, let us learn which that is, and take care of it; for the same thing does not work upon all men alike. We are moved like beasts, at the idle appearance of things; and the fiercer the creature, the more it is startled. The sight of red cloth enrages a bull. A shadow provokes the asp, nay, so unreasonable are some men, that they take moderate benefits for injuries, and squabble about it with their nearest relations : they have done this and that for others, they cry, and they might have dealt better with us if they bad pleased. Very good ! And if it be less than we looked for, it may be yet more than we deserve. Of all unquiet humours, this is the worst, that will never sutler any man to be happy, so long as he sees a happier man than himself. I have known some men so weak, as to think themselves con- 232 THE MORALIST. tcmned, if a liorse did but play the jade with them' that is yet obedient to another rider. A brutal folly to be offended at a mule animal; for no injury can be done to us without the concurrence of reason. A beast may hurt us, as a sword, or a stone, and no otherwise. Nay, there are they who will complain of foul weather, a raging sea, a biting winter, as if it were expressly directed to tbem. How vain and idle are many of those things that make us stark mad ? A restiff horse, the overturning of a glass, the falling of a key, the dragging of a chair, a jealousy, a misconstruction. How shall that man en- dure the extremities of hunger and thirst, who flies into a rage for putting a little too much water into his wine ? What haste is there to lay a servant by the heels, to break a leg or an arm immediately for it, as if he were not to have the same power over him an hour after, that he has at that instant? The answer of a servant, a wife, a tenant, puts some people out of all patience ; and yet they can quarrel with the Go- vernment for not allowing them that liberty in public which they deny to their own families. If they say nothing, it is contumacy ; if they speak, or laugh, it is insolence. As if a man had his ears given him only for music; whereas we must suffer all sorts of noises, good and bad, both of man and beast. How idle is it to start at the tinkling of a bell, or the creaking of a door, when, for all this delicacy, we must endure thun- der ? Neither are our eyes less curious and fantastical than our ears. When we are abroad, we can bear well enough with foul ways, nasty streets, noisome ditches ; but a spot upon a dish at home, or an un- swept hearth, absolutely distracts us. And what is the reason, but that we are patient in the one place, and fantastically peevish in the other? Nothing makes us more intemperate than luxury, that shrinks at every stroke, and starts at every shadow. It is death to some to have another sit above them, as if a body were the more or less honest for a cushion. But they are only weak creatures, who think themselves wounded if they be but touched. One of the Siba- rites, who saw a fellow hard at word, digging, desired him to give over, for it made him weary to see him : and it was an ordinary complaint with him— that he could take no rest, because the rose leaves lay double under him. When we are once weakened with plea- sures, every thing grows intolerable. And we are angry as well with those who cannot, as with those THE M0RALIS1* 233 who do burl us. Wc tear a book because it is blotted, and our clothes because they are not well made: — things that neither deserve nor feel our anger. The tailor, perhaps, did his best; or, however, had no in- tent to displease us : if so, first, why should we be an- gry at all ? Secondly, why should we be angry with the thing for the man's sake? Nay, our anger extends even to dogs, horses, and other beasts. ADVICE IN CASES OF CONTUMELY AND REVENGE. Of provocations to anger there are two sorts ; there is au injury, and there is a contumely. The former in its nature "is the heavier ; the other slight in itself, and only troublesome to a wounded imagination. And yet, some there are, who will bear blows, and death itself, rather than contumelious words. A contumely is an indignity below the consideration of the law, and not worthy of revenge, nor so much as a complaint. — It is only the vexation and infirmity of a weak mind, as well as the practice of a haughty and insolent na- ture, and signifies no more to a wise and sober man, than an idle dream, that is no sooner past than forgot- ten. It implies contempt, it is true j but what need has any man to care for being contemptible to others, if he be not so to himself? When a child in the arms strikes its mother, tears her hair, claws her face, and calls her by improper names, it goes for nothing, be- cause the child knows not what it does. Neither are we moved at the impudence and bitterness of a buf- foon, though he fall upon his own master, as well as upon the guests ; but, on the contrary, we encourage and entertain the freedom. Are we not mad, then, to be delighted and displeased with the same thing, and to take that as an injury from one man, which passes only for a raillery from another? He that is wise will behave himself toward all men as we do to our chil- dren : for they are but children, too, though they have grey hairs j tbey are, indeed, of a larger size, and their errors are grown up with them ; they live without rule, they covet without choice, they are timorous and un- steady, and if at any time they happen to be quiet, it is more out of fear than reason. 4lt is a wretched con- dition, to stand in awe of every body's tongue ; and whosoever is vexed at reproach, would be proud if he were commended. We should look upon contumelies, slanders, and ill words, only as the clamour of enemies, or arrows shot at a distance, that make a ciattering 234 THE MORALIST. upon our arms, but do no execution. A man makes himself less than his adversary, by fancying that he is contemned. Things are only ill, that are ill taken; and it is not for a man of worth to think himself better or worse for the opinion of others. He who thinks himself injured, let him say— Either I have deserved this, or I have not. If I have, it is just ; if I have not, it is an injustice ; and the doer of it has more reason to be ashamed than the sufferer. Nature has assigned to every man his post, which he is in honour bound to maintain, let him be ever so much pressed. Some are so impatient, that they cannot bear a con- tumely from a woman, whose very beauty, greatness, and ornaments, are all of them little enough to vindi- cate her from many indecencies, without much mo- desty and discretion; nay, they will lay it to heart even from the meanest of servants. How wretched is that man, whose peace lies at the mercy of the peo- ple ? A physician is not angry at the intemperance of a mad patient, nor does he take it ill to be railed at bv a man in a fever; just so should a wise man treat all mankind, as a physician does his patients ; and, looking upon them only as sick and extravagant, Jet their words and actions, whether good or bad, go equally for nothing ; attending still his duty, even in the coarsest offices that may conduce to their recovery. Men that are proud, fro ward, and powerful, he values their scorn as little as their quality, and looks upon them no otherwise than as a people in the excess of a fever. If a beggar worships him, or if he takes no notice of him, it is all one to him; and wilharieh man he makes it the same case. Their honours, and their injuries, he accounts much alike; without re- joicing at the one, or grieving at the other. In these cases, the rule is to pardon all offences, where there is any sign of repentance, or hope of amendment. It does not hold in injuries as in bene- fits, the requiting of the one with the other; for it is a shame to overcome in the one, and in the other to be overcome. It is the part of a great mind to despise injuries: and it is one kind of revenge to neglect a man, as not worth it ; for it makes the first aggressor too considerable. Our philosophy, methinks, might carry us to the bravery of a generous mastiff, that can bear the barking of a thousand curs, without taking any notice of them. He who receives an injury from his superior, it is not enough for him to bear it with patience, and without any thought of revenge, but he THE MORALIST. 235 must receive it with a cheerful countenance, and look as if lie did not understand it, too; for if he appear too sensible, he shall be sure to have more of it. It is a bad humour in great men, that whom they wrong they will hate. It is well answered of an old courtier, that was asked how he kept so long in favour. — "Why," says he, " by receiving injuries, and crying your humble servant for them." Some men take it for an argument of greatness to have revenge in their power ; but so far is be who is under the dominion of anger, from being great, that he is not so much as free. Not but that anger is a kind of pleasure to some in the act of revenge, but the very word is inhuman, though it may pass for honest. Virtue, in short, is impenetrable, and revenge is only the confession of an infirmity. It is a fantastical humour, that the same jest in pri- vate should make us tnerry, and yet enrage us in pub- lic; nay, we do not allow the liberty we take. Some railleries we account pleasant, others bitter ; a conceit upojx-a squint eye,} a hunch-back, or any personal de- fect, passes for a reproach. And why may we not as well hear it as see it? Nay, if a man imitates our gait, speech, or any imperfection, it puts us out of all patience, as if the counterfeit were more grievous than the reality. Some cannot endure to hear of their age, others of their poverty ; and they make the thing the more noticed the more they desire to hide it. Some bitter jest, for the purpose, was broken upon you at the table ; keep better company. In the free- dom of cups, a sober man will hardly keep himself within bounds. It sticks with us extremely, some- times, that the porter will not let us in to his great master. Will any but a madman quarrel with a cur for barking, when he may pacify him with a crust ? What have we to do but to keep futher off, and laugh at him ? Fidus Cornelius, a tall slim fellow, fell down- right a crying in the senate-house at Corbulo's say- ing that he looked like an ostrieh. He was a man that made nothing of a lash upon his life and manners; but a reflection upon his person was worse than death. No man was ever ridiculous to others, who laughed at himself first ; it prevents mischief, and is a spiteful disappointment to those who take pleasure in such abuses. Vitinius, a man that was made up of scorn and hatred, scurrilous and impudent to the highest degree, but most abusively witty, and withal he was diseased and deformed to an extreme; his way was 236 THE MORALIST. always to begin to make sport with himself, and so prevented the mockery of others. There are none more abusive to others than they who lie most open to it themselves ; but the humour goes round, and he that laughs at me to day, will have somebody to laugh at him to-morrow, and revenge my quarrel. But, however, there are some liberties that, will never go down with some men. CAUTIONS AGAINST ANGER IN THE MATTER OF EDUCA- TION, CONVERSE, AND OTHER GENERAL MEANS OF PREVENTING IT, BOTH IN OURSELVES AND OTHERS. All that is particular upon this subject lies under two heads :— first ; that we do not fall into anger ; and, secondly, that we do not transgress in it. As in the case of our bodies, we have some medicines to preserve us when we are well, and others to recover us when we arc sick ; so it is one thing not to admit it) and ano- ther thing to overcome it. We are, in the first place, to avoid all provocations, and the beginnings of anger ; for if we be once down, it is a hard task to get up again; when our passion has got the better of our reason, and the enemy is received into the gate, wc cannot expect that the conqueror should take condi- tions from the prisoner. And, in truth, our reason, when it is thus mastered, turns effectually into pas- sion. A careful education is a great matter, for our minds are easily formed in our youth, but it is a hard business to cure ill habits: beside that, we are in- flamed by climate, constitution, company, and a thou- sand other accidents, that we are not aware of. The choice of a good nurse, and a well natured tutor, goes a great way ; for the sweetness both of the blood and of the manners will pass into the child. There is nothing breeds anger more than a soft and effeminate education ; and it is very seldom seen, that either the mother's, or the schoolmaster's darling, ever comes to good. But my young master, when be comes into the world, behaves himself like a choleric coxcomb; for flattery, and a great fortune, nourish touchiness. It is a nice point, so to check the seeds of anger in a child, as not to take off the edge, and quench his spirits, whereof a particular care must be taken, between licence and severity, that he be neither too much emboldened nor depressed. Commendation gives him courage and confidence, but then the danger is, of blowing him up into insolence aDd wrath : so THE MORALIST. 237 that when to use the bit, and when the spur, is the main difficulty. Never put him to a necessity of beg- ging any thing basely, or if he does, let him go without it. Enure him to familiarity, where he has any emu- lation; and in all bia exercises, let him understand that it is generous to overcome his competitor, but not to hurt him. Allow him to be pleased when he does well, but not transported, for that will puff him up into too high a conceit of himself. Give him nothing that he cries lor, until the dogged fit is over, but then let him have it when he is quiet ; to shew him that there is noching to be gotten by being pee- vish. Chide him for whatever he does amiss, and make him betimes acquainted with the fortune to which be was born. Let his diet be wholesome, but sparing ; and clothe him like the rest of his fellows; for by fdacinghim upon that equality at first, he will be the ess proud afterward, and consequently the less waspish and quarrelsome. In the next place, let us have a care of temptations that we cannot resist, and provocations that we can- not bear, and especially of sour and exceptious com- pany : for a cross humour is contagious ; nor is it all, that a man shall be the better for a quiet conversation ; but an angry disposition is troublesome, because it has nothing else to work upon. We should, therefore, chuse a sincere, easy, and temperate companion, that will neither provoke anger nor return it, nor give a man any occasion of exercising his distempers. Nor is it enough to be gentle, submissive, and humane, without integrity and plain dealing : for flattery is as offensive on the other side. Some men will take a curse from you better than a compliment. Caelius, a passionate orator, had a friend of singular patience that supped with him, who had no way to avoid a quarrel, but by saying amen to all that Caelius said. Caelius taking this ill — " Say something against me,'* says he, u that you and I may be two ;" and he was angry with him because he would not; so the dispute fell, as it needs must, for want of an opponent. He that is naturally addicted to anger, let him use a moderate diet, and abstain from wine ; for it is but adding fire to fire. Gentle exercises, recreations and sports, temper and sweeten the mind. Let him have a care also of long and obstinate disputes, for it is easier not to begin them than to put an end to them. Severe studies are not good for him neither, as law or mathematics ; too much attention preys upon the spi- 238 THE MORALIST. rits, and makes him eager. But poetry, history, and those lighter entertainments, may serve him for diver- sion and relief. He that would be quiet, must not ven- ture at things out of his reach, or beyond his strength ; for be shall either stagger under the burden, or dis- charge it upon the next man he meets ; which is the same case in civil and domestic affairs. Business that is ready and practicable goes off" with ease, but when it is too heavy for the bearer, they fall both together. Whatsoever we design, we should first take a measure of ourselves, and compare our force with the under- taking, for it vexes a man not to go through with his work : a repulse inflames a generous nature, as it makes one that is phlegmatic sad. I have known some that have advised looking in a glass when a man is in the tit, and the very spectacle of bis own defor- mity has cured him. Many that are troublesome in their drink, and know their own infirmity, give their servants orders beforehand, to take tbem away by force, lor fear of mischief, and not to obey their mas- ters themselves when they are hot-headed. If the thing were duly considered, we should need no other cure than the bare consideration of it. We are not angry at madmen, children, and fools, because I hey do not know what they do ; and why should not im- prudence have an equal privilege in other cases ? If a horse kick, or a dog bite, shall a man kick or bite again ? The one, it is true, is wholly void of reason, but it is also an equivalent darkness of mind that pos- sesses the other. So long as we are among men, let us cherish humanity; and so live, that no man may be either in fear, or in danger of us. Losses, injuries, reproaches, calumnies, are but short inconveniences, and we should bear them with resolution. Besides that, some people are above our anger, others below it. To contend with our superiors is a folly, and with our inferiors an indignity. There is hardly a more effectual remedy against an- ger than patience and consideration. Let but the first fervour abate, and that mist which darkens the mind will be either lessened or dispelled ; a day, nay, an hour, does much in the most violent cases, and, perchance, totally suppresses it ; lime discovers the truth of things, and turns that into judgment which at first was anger. Plato was about to strike his ser- vant, and while his hand was in the air he checked himself, but still held it in that menacing posture. A friend took notice of it, and asked him what he meant. THE MORALIST. 239 " I am now," says Plato, " punishing an angry man :" so that he left his servant to chastise himself. Another time, his servant having committed a great fault — " Speusippus," says he, '• do you beat that fellow, for I am angry :'' so that he forbore striking him for the very reason that would have made another man have done it. " I am angry," says he, " and shall go farther than becomes me." Nor is it lit that a servant should be in his power, that is not his own master. Why should any one venture now to trust an angry man with re- venge, when Plato dared not trust himself? Either ho must govern it, or it will undo him. Let us do our best to overcome it, but let us, however, keep it close, without giving it any vent. An angry man, if he gives himself liberty at all times, will go too far. if it comes once to shew itself in the eye, or countenance, itliasgot the better of us. Nay, we should so op- pose it, as to put on the very contrary dispositions : calm looks, softand slow speech, an easy and delibe- rate march, and by little and little we may possioly bring our thoughts into a sober conformity with our actions. When Socrates was angry, he would take himself in it, and speak low, in opposition to the mo- tions of his displeasure. His friends would take no- tice of it; and it was not to his disadvantage, but rather to his credit, that so many should know that he was angry, and nobody feel it; which could never have been, if he had not given his friends the same liberty of admonition which he himself took. And this course should we tai.e ; we should desire our friends not to flatter us in our follies, but to treat us with all liberties of reprehension, even when we arc least willing to bear it, against so powerful and so insinuating an evil ; we should call for help, while we have our eyes in our head, and are yet masters of our selves. Moderation is profitable for subjects; but more so for princes, who have the means of executing all that their anger prompts them to. When that power comes once to be exercised to a common mis- chief, it cannot long continue, a common fear joining in our cause all their divided complaints, in a word now, how we may prevent, moderate, or master, this impotent passion in others. It is not enough to be sound ourselves, unless we en- deavour to make others so, wherein we must accom- modate the remedy to the temper of the patient. Some are to be dealt with by artitice and address; as, for example,— why will you gratify your enemies to shew yourself so much concerned? It is not worth youc 240 THE MORALIST. anger; it is below you; lamas much troubled at it myself, as you can be, but you had better say nothing, and take your time to be even with them. Anger, in some people, is to be openly opposed ; in others there must be a little yielding, according to the disposition of the person. Some are won by entreaties, others are gained by mere shame and conviction, and some by delay ; a dull way of cure for a violent distemper, but this must be the last experiment. Other affections may be better dealt with at leisure, for they proceed gradually, but this commences and perfects itself in the same moment. It does not, like other passions, solicit and mislead us, but it runs away with us by force, and hurries us on with an irresistible temerity, as well to our own, as to another's ruin : not only fly- ing in the lace of him that provokes us, but, like a tor- rent, bearing all down before it. There is no encoun- tering the first heat and fury of it, for it is deaf and mad. The best way is, in the beginning, to give it time and rest, and let it spend itself: while the pas- sion is too hot to handle, we may deceive it ; but, how- ever, let all instruments of revenge be put out of the way. It is not amiss, sometimes to pretend to be an- gry, too, and join with him, not only in the opinion of the injury, but in the seeming contrivance of a re- venge. But this must be a person that has some au- thority over him. This is a way to get time, and by advising upon some greater punishment, to delay the present : if the passion be outrageous, try what shame or fear can do ; if weak, it is no hard matter to amuse it by strange stories, grateful news, or pleasant dis- courses. Deceit, in this case, is friendship ; for men must be cozened to be cured. The injuries that press hardest upon us, are those which either we have not deserved, or not expected, or, at least, not in so high a degree. This arises from the love of ourselves ; for every man takes upon him, like a Prince, in this case, to practise all liberties, and to allow none; which proceeds either from ignorance or intolerance. What news is it for people to do ill things? for an enemy to hurt; nay, for a friend, or a servant, to transgress, and to prove treacherous, un- grateful, covetous, impious? What we find in one man, we may in another, and there is no more secu- rity in fortune than in men. Our joys are mingled with fear, and a tempest may arise out of a calm, but a skilful pilot is always provided for it. (To be continued.) London: Printed and Published byR. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street. W)t JWoraKsst. No. 16, Vol. I. Price Twopence. ON AX&ER. Anger may be considered a disease in the human body, rather than a passion : a moral disease it is, cer- tainly, in its relation to the human mind. But as it prevails more in some than in others, more at some than at other times, more in sickly than in healthy bodies, it may justly be viewed as a physical disease. To cure, it is necessary to know our diseases, and to know that anger is disease, promises to be a first step to its expulsion from the body. As a storm is a spe- cies of disease in the physical world, so is anger in the moral world; but though it is a matter beyond human power to prevent or controul the former, it is not so with the latter : the human body is the moral universe, and human power can sway it. It generates its own power of moral controul, as the necessity of morality is generated by an association with others of the species. The cause of anger must be an idea of injury done to the will or to the possessions of the body, and is a proof rather of weakness than of strength of mind. Instances may occur in which the exibition of anger may ward off an amount of injury ; but to anger after an injury is received, is rather the proof of a little than an enlarged mind. As a proof of its being an in- jurious disease to the body, we may instance the facts London: Printed and Published byR. Carlile, 84, Fleet-street. 242 THE M0RALI8T. that persons addicted to it always seek repose and quietness, exhibit exhaustion after the fit has passed, and feel sorrow lor the excitement : others are subject to head-aches; others again fall into hysterics in the midst of the angry tit. It has caused the bursting of blond-vessels ; and apoplectic fits are always to be feared from excessive anger. Where it is found in a father or mother, a family is injured and disgraced; where it is found in children, it should be instantly re- pressed as a vice. Children should be made sensible of some loss as often as they exhibit it towards each other : and persons of mature years may discover its inutility, with its mischief, if they will but reason upon it, and trace it from its source to its purpose. As we can change the stale of our bodies by regimen, so may we cure ourselves of every mental disease by resolution. From the different hues which different angry persons exhibit, there is an inference, that some fiery fluids in the body may be pre -disposing causes to irritation; but the culture of the mind will guard against this action upon so dangerous an element, and remove it harmlessly from the body, by the aid of rra- son's conductors, making it a source of vigour instead of a scathing blast. Anger, like an electric fluid, is a volatile passion, and to prevent it from being inju- rious, it is only necessary that we know how to guard ourselves from it, when it is generated, or previously to prevent the generation. When generated, it is apt to strike indiscriminately, and often makes enemies. or destroys benefits without a just cause. The human body is as much a compound of elements asUhe earth and its atmosphere, and it is as difficult U> developc clearly the sources of motion in the one as in the olher. We ought to feel the same horror at an undue excitement of our passions, as we feel at a rag- ing storm ; for as life is the all we have to lose, it is as much in danger in the one as in the other case. We THE MORALIST* 243 ought to feel more horror ; because, we have the power, by seeking it, to moderate our passions ; whilst no human power can a. lay a storm in the atmosphere. The source of passion is another hiridcu matter ; but it is, evidently, Ihe action of element upon ele- ment, of one kind upon another kind of fluid matter, where the compound, by its aggregate, constitutes sensation. The impulses to its motion are self-gratifi- cation and its opposition: hence, it may be seen, that a command over our desires and sorrows is that power which moderates all the passions. A resolution nei- ther to obtain nor to spend any thing, but upou moral grounds, will keep the mental machine in its proper course of action ; for mankind have but one correct guide by which every action may be rightly steered, and tint is morality, or the rule of action that at once respects both self and others. Anger, being one of the passions, it takes its rise from the elementary actions of the body above stated, and the springs of those actions may be defined as the will opposed, body injured, or property not re- spected. But another powerful reason lor discretion and discrimination is, the fact, that, anger is called into being from imaginary as well as from rea/ circum- stances. A supposition of will opposed, where au- thority is sought, operates as powerful as the fact; but before we anger, we ought to consider whether the will was such as could be morally obeyed. And with respeet to an ideal injury of property, we should be very careful to examine the fact, and the disposi- tion that led to the fact, before we decide on its merit*. If we do not act upon such a rule, we are in d i nger of perpetual irritation ; as a fertile fancy will never want causes whereon to exercise its spleen: if Uiey do not present themselves, it will create them. This spleen is a vaporous fluid that pervades some bodies more than others, and may be righiU . ssed as 244 THE MORALIST. the fluid of antipathy. Many animals, when pursued, will eject this fluid upon Iheir pursuers. The poison of all poisonous animals is nothing more than a similar fluid highly concentrated, which the animal can eject at pleasure, or under peculiar excitement. They are the fluids of the body, which in a great measure give the tone to the mind, and modulate all our words and actions. Sensation is an action upon fluids; and this well understood, we shall have arrived at the temper, so to regulate those sensations, as never to allow them to lead us into danger or error. Anger is the parallel of drunkenness and madness : if a man could but look into a mirror, and raise up enough of reasou to contemplate himself when angry, drunk, or mad, that would be a certain remedy ; for, when we see them, we feel more disgust for our own vices and diseases than for those of others. It is a defect that we do not sufficiently look at, about, and into ourselves. Society implies that one man engages to help another: such is the first principle of the social compact ; and anger, in any instance, is a vio- lation of the common social law. It is acknowledged, that there is a species of gene- rosity commonly attached to violent and sudden anger, but it does not excuse the frequent exhibition of the passion ; it is possible, however, by due culture, to raise these volatile elements into a greatness, a no- bleness of mind. As well as a general disease of the body, the habit of exhibiting anger at trifles may be considered a dis- ease of the moral system. It is something beneath the dignity of rationality to be incessantly bickering with the persons and things about us, and such a person may be considered to be highly infected with the dis- ease of unhappiness, a perpetual breaker of domestic peace,, and, consequently, a vicious and immoral per- son. Such a person is an inexhaustible fountain tff THE MORALIST. 245 spleen, that is attracted by every animal substance that comes near it, and converts to its own quality the whole substanco of the food and the sentiment that is thrown upon it. It is a matter of great concern, to reflect seriously on the follies and mischiefs which arise out of a gene- ral peevishness, or a display of anger at every trifle that happens. This disposition of mind and body ope- rates against us both morally and physically, makes us despised in person, and injured in property : at once a perpetual torment to ourselves, and to every living thing about us. Cool refltction upon the mat- ter, with a resolution to cheek the irritable nerve, is the only remedy. The resolution of Plato, which could suspend his arm in the air as a punishment, be- cause he was about to strike in anger, is that species of resolution which is required as a remedy,, Such a painting of Plato Mould be more publicly useful and valuable than all the other paintings in existence. It was the best of his many reveries, and in that attitude he ought always to be painted. The anger, if it may be so called, which never arises but upon some wrong done, and never subsides into a compromising of that wrong, is the only useful spe- cies in this passion. It is the stern resolution to do or to countenance nothing but right, as far as existing knowledge distinguishes it. It is the guardian of vir- tue, the ever vigorous enemy of vice. It offers the most eloquent consolation to the one, and the most forbidding frown to the other. It is the distinguishing power that separates all that is evil from all that is good; and is the only power of the kind, humanly speaking, that is equal to this delightful task. As most diseases are generative, so is the disease of anger one of them : it grows upon us, if not checked, and is communicated to those about us, by the exam- ple and habit. The anger of rulers, mere unbridled 246 *!HE MORALIST. passions, often desolates the habitations of millions : the anger of parties in a State must be injurious to the community as a whole, if it does not lead to acts of violence: and the anger of different families, and of the individuals of a family, is a source of perpetual distraction and injury. It is the evil principle that wars with the good principle love ; and is one of the chief sources of ihe misery that every where awaits sensation. The happiness of mankind centres in the principle of love, which may be distinguished in two kinds, like most of the other passions, moral and phy- sical. Anger is the enemy of both. Love must over- come anger, or anger will ovrrcome love. These observations, with the extracts from Seneca, have nearly exhausted the consideration of this pas- sion. Seneca reasons with a most powerful mind upon it, and seems to have exhibited a still more powerful example. Many of the cases quoted by him in illus- tration of its bad effects when unrestrained, have been omitted, in consequence of their horrifying and immo- ral nature. A mere narrative of vices is enough to pollute virtue, and youth should know as little as pos- sible about them. A constant picture of the better part of animated nature should be constantly before their eyes; for, if any kind of ignorance be desirable, it must be the ignorance of vice. Under this view, a detail of vice will continue to be excluded from this publication, that its foul impression may not stain tho mind of any youthful reader. In conclusion, the reader is exhorted to make a con- quest of him or herself, so as to eradicate the irritable or irascible disposition ; and whilst augmenting the amount of human love, accumulate a preponderating share to self. The first principle in self satisfaction, is a desire to make others happy; but where anger reigns, happiness suffers an involuntary exile. Pop© has said, that the " greatest., enemy of mankind is THE MORALIST. 247 man:" the truism may be heightened, and still be true in saying, that man is the greatest enemy to self. No other human being can do him that constant injury which he does to himself. Anger, envy, jealousy, in- temperance, are ills incessantly annoving his health and repose; and ills which he might shake off', if bo had but sufficient resolution to reflect upon and to trace their origin. It is the business of rationality to make moral good surmount physical ill, and they who labour to attain that end seldom labour in vain. The passion of anger may be eradicated by a senti- mental discipline, by desiring to eradicate it, as we would an eruption upon the fice. It eclipses that vir- tue which is the beauty of the mind, as a foul blotch obscures the beauty of an otherwise well formed and healthy face. It is a storm that roots up our peace &nd happiness, and when subsided, often leaxes both body and mind a wreck and scene of wretchedness. Though not the most foul or most base of passions, it is a withering blast, that scorches our bloom, and is perpetually striking at the very roots of life. Conquer it, and add increasing happiness to health and lengthened days. SENECA, ON ANGER. ( Concluded from p. 240. J AGAINST RASH JUDGMENT. It is good for every man to fortify himself on his weak side ; and, if he loves peace, be must not be in- quisitive, and hearken to tale-bearcis j for the man that is over curious to hear and see every thing, mul- tiplies troubles to himself; for a man does not feel what he does not know. He that is listening after pri- 248 THE MORALIST. vate discourse, and what people say of bira, shall never be at peace. How many things, thai are innocent in themselves, are made injurious by misconstruction? Wherefore, some things we are to pause upon, others to laugh at, and others again to pardon. Or, if we cannot avoid the sense of indignities, let us, however, shun the open profession of it, which may be easily done, as appears by many examples of those who have suppressed their anger, under the awe of a greater fear. It is a good caution, not to believe any thing until we are very certain of it; for many probable things prove false, and a short time will make evidence of the undoubted truth. . We are prone to believe many things which we are unwilling to hear, and so we con- clude, and take up a prejudice before we can judge. — Never condemn a friend unheard, or without letting him know his accuser, or his crime. It is a common thing to say— Do not tell that you had it from me, for if you do I will deny it, and never tell you any thing again : by which means, friends are set together by the ears, and the informer slips his neck out of the collar. Admit no stories upon those terms, for it is an unjust thing to believe in private, and to be angry openly. — He that delivers himself up to guess and conjecture, runs a great hazard: for there can be no suspicion without some probable grounds ; so that without mueb candour and simplicity, and making the best of every thing, there is no living in society with mankind. — Some things that offend us we have by report, others we see, or hear. In the first place, let us not be too credulous: some people frame stories that they may deceive us ; others only tell what they hear, and are deceived themselves. Some make it their sport to do ill offices, others do them only to pick a thank : there are some that would part the dearest friends in the world; others love to do mischief, and stand aloof to see what comes of it. If it be a small matter, I would THE MORALIST. 249 have witnesses; but if it be a greater, I would have it upon oath, and allow time to the accused, and council too, and hear it over aud over again. In those cases, where we ourselves are witnesses, we should take into consideration all the circum- stances. If a child, it was ignorance :— if a woman, a mistake : — if done by command, a necessity : — it a man be injured, it is but quod pro quo :— if a judge, he knows what be does:— if a brute, I make myself one by imitat- ing it:— if a calamity, or disease, my best relief is pa- tience:— if a good mau,Iwill make the best of it:— if a bad man, I will never wonder at it. Nor is it only by iales and stories that we are inflamed, but suspicious countenances, nay, a look, or a smile, is enough to blow us up. In these cases, let us suspend our dis- pleasure, and plead the cause of the absent. Perhaps he is innocent, or, if not, I have time to consider of it, and may take my revenge at leisure ; but when it is once executed, it is not to be recalled. A jealous head is apt to take that to himself which was never meant for him. Let us, therefore, trust to nothing but what we see, and chide ourselves where we are over credulous. By this course we shall not be so easily imposed upon., nor put to trouble about things not worth the while; as the loitering of a servant upon an errand, the tumbling of a bed, or the spilling of a glass of drink. It is a madness to be disordered at these fooleries ; we consider the thing done, and not the doer of it. It may be he did it unwillingly, or by chance. It was a trick put upon him, or he was forced to it. He did it for reward, perhaps, not haired, nor of his own accord, but he was egged on to it. Nay, some regard must be had to the age of the person, or to fortune; and we must consult humanity andean- dour in the case. One does me a great mischief unin- tentionally, another does me a small one by design, or perhaps none at all, but intended one. The latter 250 THE MORALIST. was more in fault, but I will be angry with neither.— We must distinguish between what a man cannot and what he will not do. It is true, he has once offended me, but how often has he pleased me ? he has offended me often, and in other kinds, and why should I not bear it as well now as I have done? Is he my friend? Why, then, it was against his will. Is he my enemy ? It is no more than I looked for. Lei us give way to wise men, and not squabble with fools, and say thus to ourselves:— We have all of us our errors ; no man is so circumspect, or considerate, or so fearful of of- fending, but he has much to answer for. A generous prisoner cannot immediately comply with all the sor- did and laborious offices of a slave. A footman that is not breathed, cannot keep pace with his master's horse. He that is over-watched, may be allowed to be drowsy. All these things are to be weighed, before we give any ear to the first impulse. If it be my duty to love my country, I must be kind also to all my coun- trymen : if a veneration be due to the whole, so is a piety also to the parts, and it is the common interest to preserve them. We are all members of one body, and it is as natural to help one another, as for t bo bands to help the feet, or the eyes the hands. With- out the love and care of the parts, they can never be preserved ; and we must spare one another, be- oause we are born for society, which cannot be maintained without a regard to particulars. Let this be a rule to us, never to deny a pardon that docs no hurt either to the giver or receiver. That may be well enough in one, which is ill in another ; and there- fore we are not to condemn any thing that is common to a nation, for custom defends it. But much more pardonable are those things which are common to mankind. It is a kind of spiteful comfort, that whoever does me an injury, may receive one ; and that there is a THE MORALIST. 251 power over him who is above me. A man should stand as firm against all indignities, as a rock does against the waves. As it is some satisfaction to a man in a mean condition, that there is no security in ono more prosperous, and as the loss of a son in a corner is borne with more patience, upon the sight of a fu- neral carried out of a palace, so are injuries and con- tempts the more tolerable from a meaner person, when we consider that the greatest men and fortunes are not exempt. The wisest also of mortals have their failings, and no man living is without the same ex- cuse. The difference is, that we do not all transgress the same way : but we are obliged in humanity to bear with one another. We should, every one of us, be- think ourselves how remiss we have been in our du- ties, how immodest in our discourses, how intemperate in our cups, and why not as well, how extravagant we have been in our pas-ions. Let us clear ourselves of this evil, purge our minds, and utterly root out all those vices, which, upon leaving the least sting, will grow again and recover. We must think of every thing, expect every thing, that we may not be sur- prised. " It is a shame," said Fabius, " for a com- mander to excuse himself by saying — I was not aware of it." TAKE NOTHING ILL FROM ANOTHER UNTIL YOU HAVE MADE IT YOUR OWN CASE. II is not prudent to deny a pardon to any man with- out first examining, if we do not stand in need of it ourselves ; for it may be our lot to ask it, even at his feet to whom we refuse it. But we are willing enough to do, what we are very unwilling to suffer. It is un- reasonable to charge public vices upon particular per- sons ; for we are all wicked, and that which we blame in others we find in ourselves. It is not a paleness in one, or a leanness in another, but a pestilence that has 252 THE MORALIST. laid hold upon all. Such a man, we cry, has done me a shrewd turn, and I never did him any hurt. Well, but it may be, I have mischieved other people, or at least I may live to do as much to him as that comes to mc. Such a one has spoken ill things of me ; but if I first speak ill of him, as 1 do of many others, that is not an injury, but a repayment. What if he did overshoot himself? he was both to loso his conceit, perhaps, but there was no malice in it ; and if he had not done me a mischief, he must have done himself one. How many good offices are there that look like injuries ? Nay, how many have been reconciled, and good friends, after a professed hatred. Before we lay any thing to heart, let us ask our- selves if we have not done the same thing to others. But where shall we find an equal judge ? Ke who loves another man's wife, only, perhaps, because she is another's, will not suffer his own to be so much as looked upon. No man so fierce against calumny as the evil speaker ; none so strict exactors of modesty in a servant, as they who are most prodigal of their own. We carry a neighbour's crime in sight, and we throw our own over our shoulders. The intempe- rance of a bad son is chastised by a worse father; and the luxury that we punish in others we allow to our- selves. The tyrant exclaims against homicide, and sacrilege against theft. We are angry with the per- sons, but not with the faults. Some things there are that cannot hurt us, and others will not ; as good magistrates, parents, tutors, judges, whose reproof, or correction, we are to take, as we do abstinence, bleeding, and other uneasy things, for which we are the better. We are not so much to reckon upon what we suffer, as upon what we have done. I take it ill, say some ; and I have done nothing, says another : when at the same time we make it worse, by adding arrogance and contumacy THE MORALIST. 253 to our first error, We cry out presently— what law have we transgressed ? As if the letter of the law wero the sum of our duty, and that piety, humanity, liberality, justice, and faith, were things beside our business. No, no, the rule of human duty is of a greater latitude, and we have many obligations that are not to be found in the statute books. And yet we fall short of the exactness even of that legal innocency. We have intended one thing, and done another, where- in only a matter of chance has kept us from being criminals. This very thing, methinks, should make us more favourable to delinquents. No man living can absolve himself to his conscience, though perhaps he may to the world. Where my proper virtue fails me, I will have re- course to examples, and say to myself— am I greater than Philip, or Augustus, who both put up with greater reproaches ? Many have pardoned their ene- mies, and shall not I forgive a neglect, a little free- dom of the tongue ? Nay, the patience but of a se- cond thought does the business ; for though the first shock be violent, take it in parts, and it is subdued. And, to wind up all in one word, the great lesson of mankind, as well in this, as in all other cases, is — to do as we would be done by. CUSTOM IS A GREAT MATTER, EITHER IN* GOOD OR EVIL. There is nothing so hard but custom makes it easy to us. There are some who never laugh; others, that wholly abstain from wine and women, and almost from sleep. Much use of a coach makes us lose the benefit of our legs ; so that Ave must be infirm to be in the fashion, and at last, lose the very faculty of walking by disuse. Some are so plunged in plea- sures, that they cannot live without them: and in this they are most miserable ; that what was at first, but superfluous, is now become necessary. Their infelicity seems to be consummate and "incurable, 254 THE MORALIST. when sensuality has laid hold of the judgment, and wickedness become n habit. Some there are r that both h tte an i persecute virtue ; and that is the last act of desperation. It is much easier to check our passions in the beginning, than to stop them in their course ; tor it reason could not hinder us at iirst, the? will go on in despite of us. The stoics will not allow a wise man to have any passions. The peripatetics temper them, but thai mediocrity is altogether false and unprofitable. And it is all one, as it' they said, that we may be a liitlo mad, or a little sick. If we give any sort of allowance to sorrow, fear, desires, perturbations, it will not be in our power to restrain them. They are fed from abroad, and will increase with their causes. And if we yield ever so little to them, the least disorder works upon the whole body. It is not my purpose, wholly to lake away any thing that is either necessary, beneficial, or delightful, to human life, but to take away that whit h may be vi- cious. When L forbid you to desire any thing, I am yet content that you may be willing to have it. So that I permit you the same things ; and those very pleasures will have a better relish, when they are en- joyed with anxiety, and when you come to command those appetites wbich before you served. It is na- tural, you will say, to weep for the loss of a friend ; to be moved at the sense of a good or ill report, and to be sad in adversity. All this I will grant you ; and there is no vice but something may be said for it. At first, it is tractable and modest, but, if we give it entrance, v\e shall hardly get it out again; as it goes on, it gathers strength, and becomes quickly ungo- vernable. It cannot be denied, but that all affections How from a kind of natural principle, and that it is our duty to take care of ourselves, but it is then our duty also, not to be over indulgent. Nature has min- gled pleasures even with things most necessary ; not that we should value them fur their own sakes, but to make those things without which we cannot live to be more acceptable to us. If we esteem the pleasure for jlself, it turns to luxury; it is not the busines$ of nature to raise hunger or thirst, but to extinguish them. As there are some natural frailties, that by care and industry may be overcome, so there are others that are invincible: as for a man that values not his own blood, to swoon at the sight of another man's. Involuntary motions are inseparable and inevitable, as the starting THE MORALIST. 255 of hair at ill news, blushing at a scurrilous discourse, swimming of the head upon the Bight of a precipice, &c. The sound ol a trumpet, the picture of any thing that is horrid, the spectacle of an execution, strikes the mind, and works upon the imagination. Some people are strangely subject to sweat, to tremble, to stammer, their very teeth will chatter, and their lips quiver, especially in public assemblies. These are natural infirmities, and it is not all the resolution in the world that can ever master them. S .me redden when they are angry; Sylla was one of those, and when the blood Hushed into his face, you might be sure he had malice in his heart Pmnpey, on the other side, who hardly ever spake in public without a blush, had a wonderful sweetness of nature, and it did ex- ceedingly well with him. Your comedians will repre- sent fear, sadness, anger, and the like, but when they come to a bashful modesty, though they will give you humbleness of looks, softness of speech, and downcast eyes, to the very life, yet they can never come to ex- press a blush ! for it is a thing neither to be command- ed nor hindered, but it comes and goes of its own ac- cord. The course of nature is smooth and easy, but when we CMme to cross it, we strive against the stream. It is not for one man to act another's part ; for nature will quickly return, and take oft* the mask. There is a kind of natural instinct that moves us: even the worst ha\e a sense of virtue. We are not so ignorant as careless. Whence comes it that grazing beasts dis- tinguish salutary from deadly plants? A chicken is afraid of a kile, but not of a goose, or peacock, which is larger: a bird, of a cat, but not of a dog. This is impulse, and not experiment. The cells of bees, and the webs of spiders, are not to be imitated by art, but it is nature that teaches them. The stage-player has his actions and gestures in readiness, but this is only an improvement by art, of what nature teaches them ; she is never at a loss for the use of herself. We come into the world with this knowledge, and we have it by a natural instinct, which is no other than a natural lo- gic. We brought the seeds of wisdom. There is the education of nature and of man ; the one is immortal, the other mortal; she perfects the one, and he the other. 256 THE MORALIST. ON FRIENDSHIP. {From a Correspondent.) * O Friendship! thou art good. Man must do vio- lence to his nature, before he can shake oft" those ties which bind him and his kind friend together. Lovely as it is, it must be formed on practical attachments, to operate on the mind with due force. It must not be founded on those interested motives which cause mony to form acquaintances who would never otherwise form them. To be cautious in forming Jbem, is only com- mon prudence ; to be firm in maintaining them when formed, is the duty of every one. Ardour of patriot- ism, benevolence, and private attachment to each other, are the foundations of happiness or misery, the criterion of worth; and this source of all that is va- luable cannot be founded with too much care and mi- nuteness. Try those, w ilh whom you intend to place confidence, with the minutest regard to their real wcrlb, and not their specious qualities. Found every affection on the principles of the mind, and never ghe way to injurious opinions against any man, without the fullest conviction that they are true. From obser- vation and experience, it is seen to be a bane to so- ciety, for men to form intimate connections quickl\. They are then formed for some interested motives, and as quickly disappear. One man should not put too much confidence in another; when they have tried each other one year, they may ascertain something of each other's real character and merits. London : Printed and Published by R. Carliie, 84, Fleet-stree:. fji l- >~J XJt