Passions, which attempted to interrupt their progress. Others, who had entered this road late, or had long forsaken it, were toiling on without her help at least, and commonly against her endeavours. But I observed, when they approached to the barren top, that few were able to proceed without some support from Habit: and that they, whose Habits were strong, advanced toward the mists with little emotion, and entered them at last with calmness and confidence; after which, they were seen only by the eye of Religion; and, though Reason looked after them with the most earnest curiosity, she could only obtain a faint glimpse, when her mistress, to enlarge her prospect, raised her from the ground. Reason, however, discerned that they were safe, but Religion saw that they were happy. Now, Theodore," said my protector, " withdraw thy view from the regions of obscurity, and see the fate of those, who, when they were dismissed by Education, would admit no direction but that of Reason. Survey their wanderings, and be wise."

46

I looked then upon the road of Reason, which was, indeed, so far as it reached, the same with that of Religion, nor had Reason discovered it but by her instruction. Yet, when she had once been taught it, she clearly saw that it was right; and Pride had sometimes incited her to declare, that she discovered it herself, and persuaded her to offer herself as a guide to Religion: whom, after many vain experiments, she found it her highest privilege to follow. Reason was, however, at last well instructed in part of the way, and appeared to teach it with some success, when her precepts were not misrepresented by Passion, or her influence overborne by Appetite. But neither of these enemies was she able to resist. When Passion seized upon her votaries, she seldom attempted opposition: she seemed, indeed, to contend with more vigour against Appetite, but generally overwearied in the contest; and, if either of her opponents had confederated with Habit, her autho

was

rity was wholly at an end. When Habit endeavoured to captivate the votaries of Religion, she grew by slow degrees, and gave time to escape; but, in seizing the unhappy followers of Reason, she proceeded as one that had nothing to fear, and enlarged her size, and doubled her chains without intermission, and without reserve.

Of those, who forsook the directions of Reason, some were led aside by the whispers of Ambition, who was perpetually pointing to stately palaces, situate on eminences on either side, recounting the delights of affluence, and boasting the security of power. They were easily persuaded to follow her, and Habit quickly threw her chains upon them they were soon convinced of the folly of their choice, but few of them attempted to return. Ambition led them forward from precipice to precipice, where many fell, and were seen no more. Those that escaped, were, after a long series of hazards, generally delivered over to Avarice, and enlisted by her in the service of Tyranny, where they continued to heap up gold, till their patrons or their heirs pushed them headlong at last into the caverns of Despair.

Others were enticed by Intemperance to ramble in search of those fruits that hung over the rocks, and filled the air with their fragrance. I observed, that the Habits, which hovered about these, soon grew to an enormous size, nor were there any who less attempted to return to Reason, or sooner sunk into the gulfs that lay before them. When these first quitted the road, Reason looked after them with a frown of contempt, but had little expectations of being able to reclaim them; for the bowl of intoxication was of such qualities, as to make them lose all regard but for the present moment; neither Hope nor Fear could enter their retreats; and Habit had so absolute a power, that even Conscience, if Religion had employed her in their favour, would not have been able to force an entrance.

There were others, whose crime it was, rather to neglect

Reason than to disobey her; and who retreated from the heat and tumult of the way, not to the bowers of Intemperance, but to the maze of Indolence. They had this peculiarity in their condition, that they were always in sight of the road of Reason, always wishing for her presence, and always resolving to return to morrow. In these was most eminently conspicuous the subtlety of Habit, who hung imperceptible shackles upon them, and was every moment leading them farther from the road, which they always imagined that they had the power of reaching. They wandered on from one double of the labyrinth to another, with the chains of Habit hanging secretly upon them, till, as they advanced, the flowers grew paler, and the scents fainter: they proceeded in their dreary march without pleasure in their progress, yet without power to return; and had this aggravation, above all others, that they were criminal, but not delighted. The drunkard, for a time, laughed over his wine; the ambitious man triumphed in the miscarriage of his rival; but the captives of Indolence. had neither superiority nor merriment. Discontent lowered in their looks, and Sadness hovered round their shades; yet they crawled on, reluctant and gloomy, till they arrived at the depth of the recess, varied only with poppies and nightshade, where the dominion of Indolence terminates, and the hopeless wanderer is delivered up to Melancholy the chains of Habit are rivetted for ever: and Melancholy, having tortured her prisoner for a time, consigns him, at last, to the cruelty of Despair.

While I was musing on this miserable scene, my prỡ. tector called out to me, 66 Remember, Theodore, and be wise, and let not Habit prevail against thee." I started, and beheld myself surrounded by the rocks of Teneriffe; the birds of light were singing in the trees, and the glances of the morning darted upon me. DR. JOHNSON.

STORY OF LA ROCHE.

MORE than forty years ago, an English philosopher, whose works have since been read and admired by all Europe, resided at a little town in France. Some disappointments in his native country had first driven him abroad, and he was afterwards induced to remain there, from having found, in this retreat, where the connexions even of nation and language were avoided, a perfect seclusion and retirement, highly favourable to the developement of abstract subjects, in which he excelled all the writers of his time.

One morning, while he sat busied in those speculations,. which afterward astonished the world, an old female domestic, who served him for a housekeeper, brought him word, that an elderly gentleman and his daughter had arrived in the village the preceding evening, on their way to some distant country, and that the father had been suddenly seized in the night with a dangerous disorder, which the people of the ina where they lodged feared would prove mortal: that she had been sent for, as having some knowledge in medicine, the village surgeon being. then absent; and that it was truly piteous to see the good. old man, who seemed not so much afflicted by his own distress, as by that which it caused to his daughter. Her master laid aside the volume in his hand, and broke off the, chain of ideas it had inspired. His night-gown was exchanged for a coat, and he followed his governante to the sick man's apartment.

'Twas the best in the little inn where they lay, but a paltry one notwithstanding. Mr. was obliged to stoop as he entered it. It was floored with earth, and. above were the joists, not plastered, and hung with cobwebs. On a flock bed, at one end, lay the old man he came to visit; at the foot of it sat his daughter. She was

Reason than to disobey her; and who retreated from the heat and tumult of the way, not to the bowers of Intemperance, but to the maze of Indolence. They had this peculiarity in their condition, that they were always in sight of the road of Reason, always wishing for her presence, and always resolving to return to morrow. In these was most eminently conspicuous the subtlety of Habit, who hung imperceptible shackles upon them, and was every moment leading them farther from the road, which they always imagined that they had the power of reaching. They wandered on from one double of the labyrinth to another, with the chains of Habit hanging secretly upon them, till, as they advanced, the flowers grew paler, and the scents fainter: they proceeded in their dreary march without pleasure in their progress, yet without power to return; and had this aggravation, above all others, that they were criminal, but not delighted. The drunkard, for a time, laughed over his wine; the ambitious man triumphed in. the miscarriage of his rival; but the captives of Indolence had neither superiority nor mérriment. Discontent lowered in their looks, and Sadness hovered round their shades; yet they crawled on, reluctant and gloomy, till they arrived at the depth of the recess, varied only with poppies and nightshade, where the dominion of Indolence terminates, and the hopeless wanderer is delivered up to Melancholy the chains of Habit are rivetted for ever: and Melancholy, having tortured her prisoner for a time, consigns him, at last, to the cruelty of Despair.

:

While I was musing on this miserable scene, my prôtector called out to me, "Remember, Theodore, and be wise, and let not Habit prevail against thee." I started, and beheld myself surrounded by the rocks of Teneriffe; the birds of light were singing in the trees, and the glances of the morning darted upon me. DR. JOHNSON.