butes, for its place is no where to be found in society; and I am equally at a loss to think, how that can be called a selfish gratification, which brings nothing home to a man's heart but mortification, contempt, abhorrence, secret discontent and public ridicule. It is composed of contraries, and founded in absurdity; for, at the same time that it cannot subsist without the world's respect, it is so constituted as never to obtain it. Anger is proverbially termed a short madness, but pride, methinks, is a perpetual one; if I had been inclined to use a softer word, I would have called it folly; I do confess I have often seen it in that more venial character, and, therefore, not to decide upon the point too hastily, I shall leave the proud man to make his choice between folly and madness, and take out his commission from which party he sees fit. Good Heaven! How pleasant, how complacent to itself and others, is an humble disposition! To a soul so tempered how delightfully life passes in brotherly love and simplicity of manners! Every eye bestows the cheering look of approbation upon the humble man; every brow frowns contempt upon the proud. Let me, therefore, advise every gentleman, when he finds himself inclined to take up the character of pride, to consider well whether he can be quite proud enough for all purposes of life whether his pride reaches to that pitch as to meet universal contempt with indifference; whether it will bear him out against mortification, when he finds himself excluded from society, and understands that he is ridiculed by every body in it; whether it is convenient to him always to walk with a stiff back and a stern countenance; and, lastly, whether he is perfectly sure, that he has that strength and self-support in his own human nature, as may defy the power and set at nought the fa vour of God, who resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble. : There is yet another little easy process, which I would recommend to him as a kind of probationary rehearsal, before he performs in public: I am persuaded it will not be amiss, if he first runs over a few of his airs and graces by himself, in his own closet let him examine himself from head to foot in his glass, and, if he finds himself no handsomer, no stronger, no taller, than all the rest of his fellowcreatures, he may venture, without risk, to conclude that he like them is a man, and nothing more. Having settled this point, and taken place in the human creation, he may next proceed to consider what that place ought to be: for this purpose, he may consult his pedigree and his rent-roll, and if, upon a careful perusal of these documents, he shall find, as most likely he will, that he is not decidedly the noblest and the richest man in the world, perhaps he will see no good cause, why he should strut over the face of it, as if it was his own: I would then have him go back to his glass, and set his features in order for the very proudest and most arrogant look he can put on; let him knit his brow, stretch his nostrils, and bite his lips, with all the dignity he can summon; and after this, when he has reversed the experiment, by softening them into a mild complacent look, with as much benignity as he can find in his heart to bestow upon them, let him ask himself honestly and fairly, which character best becomes him, and whether he does not look more like a man with some humanity, than without it; I would, in the next place, have him call his understanding to a short audit, and, upon casting up the sum total of his wit, learning, talents, and accomplishments, compute the balance between others and himself, and, if it shall turn out that his stock of all these is not the prodigious thing it ought to be, and even greater than all other men's, he will do well to husband it with a little frugal humility. The last thing he must do, and if he does nothing else I should hope it would be sufficient, is to take down his Bible from the shelf, and look out for the parable of the Pharisee and Publican; it is a short story, and soon read, but the moral is so much to his purpose, that he may depend upon it, if that does not correct his pride, his pride is incorrigible, and all the Observers in the world will be but waste paper in his service. NUMBER LVII. Μακάριος ὅστις οὐσίαν καὶ νοῦν ἔχει MENANDER, E FAMULO MATRIS IDÆÆ. Abundance is a blessing to the wise; The use of riches in discretion lies: Learn this, ye men of wealth-a heavy purse THERE are so many striking advantages in the possession of wealth, that the inheritance of a great estate devolving upon a man in the vigour of mind and body, appears to the eye of speculation as a lot of singular felicity. There are some countries where no subject can properly be said to be independent; but in a constitution so happily tempered as ours, that blessing seems peculiarly annexed to affluence. The EngJish landed gentleman, who can set his foot upon his own soil, and say to all the world-This is my freehold; the law defends my right: Touch it who dare! -is surely as independent as any man within the rules of society can be, so long as he encumbers himself by no exceedings of expense beyond the compass of his income. If a great estate therefore gives a man independence, it gives him that, which all, who do not possess it, seem to sigh for. When I consider the numberless indulgences, which are the concomitants of a great fortune, and the facility it affords to the gratification of every generous passion, I am mortified to find how few, who are possessed of these advantages, avail themselves of their situation to any worthy purposes. That happy temper, which can preserve a medium between dissipation and avarice, is not often to be found, and where I meet one man, who can laudably acquit himself under the test of prosperity, I could instance numbers, who deport themselves with honour under the visitations of adversity. Man must be in a certain degree the artificer of his own happiness; the tools and materials may be put into his hands by the bounty of Providence, but the workmanship must be his own. I lately took a journey into a distant county, upon a visit to a gentleman of fortune, whom I shall call Attalus. I had never seen him since his accession to a very considerable estate; and as I have met with few acquaintance in life of more pleasant qualities, or a more social temper than Attalus, before this great property unexpectedly devolved upon him, I flattered myself that Fortune had in this instance bestowed her favours upon one who deserved them; and that I should find it in Attalus's society the pleasing gratification of seeing all those maxims, which I had hitherto revolved in my mind as matter of speculation only, now brought forth into actual practice; for amongst all my observations upon human affairs, few have given me greater and more frequent disappointment, than the almost general abuse of riches. Those rules of liberal economy, which would make wealth a blessing to its owner and to all he were connected with, seem so obvious to me, who have no other interest in the subject than what meditation affords, that I am apt to wonder how men can make such false estimates of the true enjoyments of life, and wander out of the way of happiness, to which the heart and understanding seem to point the road too plainly to admit of a mistake. With these sanguine expectations I pursued my journey towards the magnificent seat of Attalus, and in my approach it was with pleasure I remarked the beauty of the country about it; I recollected how much he used to be devoted to rural exercises, and I found him situated in the very spot most favourable to his beloved amusements; the soil was clean, the hills easy, and the downs were checkered with thick copses, that seemed the finest nurseries in nature for a sportman's game. When I entered upon his ornamented demesne, nothing could be more enchanting than the scenery; the ground was finely shaped into hill and vale; the horizon every where bold and romantic, and the hand of art had evidently improved the workmanship of nature with consummate taste; upon the broken declivity stately groves of beech were happily disposed; the lawn was of the finest verdure gently sloping from the house; a rapid river of the purest transparency ran through it, and fell over a rocky channel into a noble lake within view of the mansion; behind this upon the northern and eastern flanks I could discern the tops of very stately trees, that sheltered a |