The neceffity of fetting the world at a distance from us, when we are to take a furvey of ourfelves, has fent many from high ftations to the feverities of a monaftick life; and indeed, every man deeply engaged in bufinefs, if all regard to another ftate be not extinguished, muft have the conviction, though, perhaps, not the refolution of Valdeffo, who, when he folicited Charles the fifth to difmifs him, being afked, whether he retired upon difguft, anfwered that he laid down his commiffion, for no other reafon but because there ought to be fome time for fober reflection between the life of a foldier and his death. There are few conditions which do not entangle us with fublunarý hopes and fears, from which it is neceffary to be at intervals difencumbered, that we may place ourselves in his prefence who views effects in their causes, and actions in their motives; that we may, as Chilling worth expreffes it, confider things as if there were no other beings in the world but God and ourfelves; or, to ufe language yet more awful, may commune with our own hearts, and be Still. Death, fays Seneca, falls heavy upon him who is too much known to others, and too little to himfelf; and Pontanus, a man celebrated among the early restorers of literature, thought the study of our own hearts of fo much importance, that he has recommended it from his tomb. Sum Joannes Jovianus Pontanus, quem amaverunt bona mufæ, fufpexerunt viri probi, honeftaverunt reges domini; jam fcis qui fim, vel qui potius fuerim; ego vero te, hofpes, nofcere in tenebris nequeo, fed teipfum ut nofcas rogo. "Pontanus, beloved by the powers of literature, "admired by men of worth, and dignified by the "monarchs of the world. Thou knoweft now who "I am, or more properly who I was. For thee, "ftranger, I who am in darknefs cannot know thee, but I intreat thee to know thyself." I am I hope every reader of this paper will confider himfelf as engaged to the obfervation of a precept, which the wifdom and virtue of all ages have concurred to enforce, a precept dictated by philofophers, inculcated by poets, and ratified by faints. NUMB. 29. TUESDAY, June 26, 1750. Prudens futuri temporis exitum But God has wifely hid from human fight The dark decrees of future fate, And fown their feeds in depth of night; When mortals fearch too foon, and fear too late. HOR DRYDEN. HERE is nothing recommended with greater frequency among the gayer poets of antiquity, than the fecure poffeffion of the prefent hour, and the difmiffion of all the cares which intrude upon our quiet, or hinder, by importunate perturbations, the enjoyment of thofe delights which our condition. happens to fet before us. The ancient poets are, indeed, by no means unexceptionable teachers of morality; their precepts are to be always confidered as the fallies of a genius, intent rather upon giving pleafure than inftruction, eager to take every advantage of infinuation, and provided the paffions can be engaged on its fide, very little folicitous about the fuffrage of reafon. The darkness and uncertainty through which the heathens were compelled to wander in the purfuit of happinefs, may, indeed, be alleged as an excufe for for many of their feducing invitations to immediate enjoyment, which the moderns, by whom they have been imitated, have not to plead. It is no wonder that fuch as had no promife of another ftate fhould eagerly turn their thoughts upon the improvement of that which was before them; but furely those who are acquainted with the hopes and fears of eternity, might think it neceffary to put fome reftraint upon their imagination, and reflect that by echoing the fongs of the ancient bacchanals, and tranfmitting the maxims of paft debauchery, they not only prove that they want invention, but virtue, and fubmit to the fervility of imitation only to copy that of which the writer, if he was to live now, would often be ashamed. Yet as the errors and follies of a great genius are feldom without fome radiations of understanding, by which meaner minds may be enlightened, the incitements to pleasure are, in thefe authors, generally mingled with fuch reflections upon life, as well deferve to be confidered diftinctly from the purposes for which they are produced, and to be treafured up as the fettled conclufions of extenfive obfervation, acute fagacity, and mature experience. It is not without true judgment that on these occafions they often warn their readers against enquiries into futurity, and folicitude about events which lie hid in caufes yet unactive, and which time has not brought forward into the view of reafon. An idle and thoughtlefs refignation to chance, without any ftruggle against calamity, or endeavour after advantage, is indeed below the dignity of a reasonable being, in whofe power providence has put a great part even of his prefent happinefs; but it fhews an equal ignorance of our proper fphere, to harrafs our thoughts with conjectures about things not yet in being. How can we regulate events, of which we yet know not whether they will ever happen. And why 159 why fhould we think, with painful anxiety, about that on which our thoughts can have no influ ence. It is a maxim commonly received, that a wife man is never surprised; and perhaps, this exemption from astonishment may be imagined to proceed from such a profpect into futurity, as gave previous intimation of thofe evils which often fall unexpected upon others that have lefs forefight. But the truth is, that things to come, except when they approach very nearly, are equally hidden from men of all degrees of understanding; and if a wife man is not amazed at fudden occurrences, it is not that he has thought more, but lefs upon futurity. He never confidered things not yet exifting as the proper objects of his attention; he never indulged dreams till he was deceived by their phantoms, nor ever realized non-entities to his mind. He is not surprised because he is not disappointed, and he escapes difappointment because he never forms any expectations. The concern about things to come, that is fo justly cenfured, is not the refult of those general reflections on the variableness of fortune, the uncertainty of life, and the univerfal infecurity of all human acquifitions, which must always be fuggefted by the view of the world; but fuch a defponding anticipation of misfortune, as fixes the mind upon fcenes of gloom and melancholy, and makes fear predominate in every imagination. Anxiety of this kind is nearly of the fame nature with jealousy in love, and fufpicion in the general commerce of life; a temper which keeps the man always in alarms, difpofes him to judge of every thing in a manner that leaft favours his own quiet, fills him with perpetual ftratagems of counteraction, wears him out in schemes to obviate evils which never threatened him, and at length, perhaps, contributes to to the production of those mischiefs of which it had raised such dreadful apprehenfions. It has been ufual in all ages for moralifts to reprefs the fwellings of vain hope by reprefentations of the innumerable cafualties to which life is fubject, and by inftances of the unexpected defeat of the wifeft fchemes of policy, and fudden subversions of the highest eminences of greatness. It has, perhaps, not been equally observed, that all these examples afford the proper antidote to fear as well as to hope, and may be applied with no lefs efficacy as confolations to the timorous, than as reftraints to the proud. Evil is uncertain in the fame degree as good, and for the reason that we ought not to hope too fecurely, we ought not to fear with too much dejection. The ftate of the world is continually changing, and none can tell the refult of the next viciffitude. Whatever is afloat in the ftream of time, may, when it is very near us, be driven away by an accidental blaft, which shall happen to cross the general courfe of the current. The fudden accidents by which the powerful are depreffed, may fall upon thofe whofe malice we fear; and the greatnefs by which we expect to be overborn, may become another proof of the false flatteries of fortune. Our enemies may become weak, or we grow ftrong before our encounter, or we may advance against each other without ever meeting. There are, indeed, natural evils which we can flatter ourfelves with no hopes of escaping, and with little of delaying; but of the ills which are apprehended from human malignity, or the oppofition of rival interefts, we may always alleviate the terror by confidering that our perfecutors are weak and ignorant, and mortal like ourfelves. The misfortunes which arife from the concurrence of unhappy incidents fhould never be fuffered to |