I know that I am called querulous; and fancifully dissatisfied. The word querulous is surely not justly applied to him, who has real and strong grounds of complaint. The favourites of fortune always set up prosperity as a proof of merit, and deem ill success to be nothing else than the proper punishment of the world for ill conduct. These wise and arrogant people think that all virtue consists in its semblance; that the dark passions of the malignant heart; that uncharitable motives; and uncharitable judgments; that secret crimes; selfishness, and fraud, and hidden hatred, are all nothing. But that a word of hasty anger spoken, though it vanish with the breath that speaks it, is an inexpiable wrong, not to be wiped out but by the perdition of the offender!

Yet all real virtue lies in the heart. What is the worth of a good deed done from a selfish motive? Smiles, which cloak a wily intention are a trick upon benevolence; and calculated to bring it into contempt. We know how to defend ourselves against the open enemy: it is the plotter and miner and sapper, against whom we cannot guard!

Yet these are the men with whom the world goes well! - Fair-spoken people, who make every one happy; and themselves most of all! never threatening a violent or cruel thing against those

to whom they have engendered secret revenge, but only executing it: effecting their deadly purpose, like an air-gun, without report!

A man,

who is frank and sincere, is one, whom these advocates of plausibility designate as wanting judgment, or, (as others phrase it,) common sense. The world, they say, would be a bear-garden, were these plain-spoken people to prevail: and they alledge, that they know nothing of a man's heart; but can only form their opinions from his overt actions. «If,» they cry, « a man tells me he will harm me, I take him upon his own confession! and why am I not then entitled to give him an opprobrious name? But I feel justified in repelling a charge against the intentions of my heart: for who can tell, what passes there?»

These people, who thus believe all virtue to be a mere external covering, have a hatred to all intellect, which is not applied to over-reach others, and advance themselves! They hate the art of the Poet, because it aims to delineate the beauties of the mind. Sir Robert Walpole said: «I hate history; for I know THAT must be a lie! » Thus these exclaim: «I hate beautiful pictures of the mind: for I know, THEY must be lies!» —

These beings have the wisdom of the Serpent: and as with the Serpent they came in; so with the Serpent may they go out! They are per

mitted in this world of wickedness to have their reward here! And there will be a time, when it is but justice that it should end!

There are however minds, which Nature has formed so weak, that it can scarcely be imputed to them as a crime, that they always yield to the dazzle of prosperity; and always feel contempt, or at least indifference, for adversity. They cannot bring their slender reason to penetrate into the sources of success; and can see nothing beyond the glare of the outward mantle, to which they bend the knee in ideotic idolatry!

and his

Such a

What is the praise worth, which speaks of another as a man of the world? A man of the world is one, who makes his feelings sincerity subservient to his interest. person can have neither energy, nor independence of thought! If nature give him the seeds of Genius, those seeds must be buried or blighted!

It is indeed difficult to draw, in every case, with perfect precision the line, where wise and just reserve ends, and wicked dissimulation commences. But yet even the wilful deception of silence can never approach to the crime of deceiving by positive falsehood. In what way knowlege is to be used, or declaration of principle obtruded, may afford many subjects of doubt to casuists. It may happen that Truth itself is not always to be spoken!

The man who is always led away by his feelings, seldom gains the character, and still seldomer receives the worldly benefits, of a strong understanding. But on the other hand, he who never yields the rein to his feelings, is one, whom it is impossible to love, or to admire! If such an one ever reach eloquence, his eloquence is more splendid, than warm: it glares, but burns not! Of this character was the powerful and justly-celebrated William Pitt.

His forte was that, which is commonly understood by the name of practical judgment: - a sort of sagacity, which enabled him to adapt general principles most skilfully to time, place, and persons: while a stream of perspicuous, sounding, and rotund language, always at his command to push on or to restrain, conveyed to his audience exactly what the occasion required, and no more!

But they of whom the heart is the director, are not equally masters of themselves. They often utter without regard to circumstances the truths, with which they are deeply impressed. They thus lay open their schemes and rules of conduct to their enemies, who, if sly, subtle, and perfidious, are taught how to circumvent them; and lead them into the snares of destruction!

It is, I fear, as true as it is lamentable, that

abstract right has not sufficient strength to succeed in the world. Pitt knew it in politics; and Pitt therefore neither disdained nor neglected the most deep and anxious management. It is said, that it is yet necessary to enforce the principle with unabated ardour, because human actions ought to make, and in fact do make, constant efforts to approximate to it: yet that no man is justified in feeling confident that in an individual case it will carry him through.

This statement is, it must be confessed, too accurate a representation of the course of human affairs. But then what wisdom, or equity, or honour is there in taking non success to be a proof of demerit? The highest earthly virtue, unaided by management, is not so likely to succeed in the world, as intrigue and hypocrisy, and falsehood!

The question is then, whether worldly prosperity is worth the price to be paid for it? — It is urged, that there may be a degree of prudential and skilful self-discipline, not inconsistent with the strictest duty and the nicest sensibility. Such an union is, perhaps, possible but will any intelligent and deep moralist deny it to be of extreme rarity? — 'He, who conceals his feelings, gradually stifles them: and from habituating ourselves to with-hold the declaration of our strong impressions of right and wrong, it will not be

: