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vegetable productions with spirit; but she has so combined it with other substances, that unless her work be tortured by fire, the spirit is not feparated, and cannot prove perni
Why should this force be put on nature, to make her yield a noxious draught, when all her original preparations are falutary?
15. The juice of the apple, the fermentation of barley, and the decoction of spruce, are amply fufficient for the refreshment of man, let his labor be ever so severe, and his perspiration ever so expensive. Our forefathers, for many years after the fettlement of the country, knew not the use of distilled spirits.
16. Malt was imported from England, and witre from the Western or Canary Islands, with which they were refreshed, before their own fields and orchards yielded them a fupply. An expedition was once undertaken against a nation of Indians, when there was but one pint of strong water (as it was then called) in the whole army, and that was reserved for the sick; yet no complaint was made for want of refreshment.
17. Could we but return to the primitive manners of our ancestors, in this respect, we fhould be free from many of the diforders, both of body and mind, which are now experienced. The disuse of ardent spirits would also rend to abolish the infamous traffic in laves, by whose labor this baneful material is procured.
Divine Providence seems to be preparing the way for the destruction of that detestable commerce. The infurrections of the blacks in the West Indies have already Spread defolation over the most fertile plantations, and greatly raised the price of those commodities which we have been used to import from thence,
19. If we could check the confuniption of distilled fpirits, and enter with vigor into the manufacture of maple sugars, of which our forests would afford an ample supply, the demand for Welt-India productions might be diminished ; the plantations in the idlands would not need fresh recruits from Africa; the planters would treat with humanity their remaining blacks; the market for slaves would become less inviting, and the navigation, which is now employed in
the most pernicious fpecies of commerce which ever dis graced humanity, would be turned into some other channel.
20. Were I to form a picture of happy society, it would be a town consisting of a due mixture of hills, vallies, and fireams of water. The land well fenced and cultivated ; the roads and bridges in good repair ; a decent inn for the refreshinent of travellers, and for public entertainments. The inhabitants mostly husbandmen ; their wives and daughters doinestic manufacturers ; a suitable proportion of handicraft workmen, and two or three traders; a physician, and lawyer, each of whom Thould have a farm for his fupe port.
A clergyman of good understaoding, of a candid disposition and exemplary morals ; not a metaphysical, nor a polemic, but a serious and practical preacher. A school. master who should underftand his buliness, and teach his pupils to govern themselves. A social library, appually in creasing, and under good regulation.
22 A club of sensible men, seeking mutual improvement. A decent musical society. No intriguing politician, horse jockey, gambler or sot ; but all such characters treat. ed with contempt. Such a situation may be considered as the most favorable to social happiness of any which this world can afford.
DIALOGUE BETWEEN CICERO AND LORD
I know how to value the sweet courtesies of life. Affability, attention, decorum of behavior, if they have not been ranked among the virtues, are certainly related to them, and have a powerful influence in promoting social happiness.. I have recommended them as well as yourself. But I contend, and no sophiltry shall prevail upon me to give up this point, that, to be truly amiable, they must proceed from goodness of heart. Assumed by the artful, to serve the purposes of private interest, they degenerate to contemptible grimace, and detestable hypocrisy.
Chesterfield. Excuse me, my dear Cicero ; I cannot enter farther into the controversy at present. I have a ħundred engagements at least; and see yonder my little elegant French Comtesse. I promised her and myself the pleasure of a promenade. Pleasant walking enough in these elysian groves. So much good company too, that, it it were not that the canaille are apt to be troublesome, I should not much regret the distance from the Thuilleries. But adieu, mon cher ami, for I see Madame B. is joining the party. Adieu, adieu !
Cic. Contemptible wretch !
Cheft. Ah ! what do I hear. Recollect that I am a man of honor, unused to the pity or the insults of an upftart. But perhaps your exclamation was not meant of
If it were, I demand an explanation. Cic. I am as little inclined to insult as to flatter yüu. Your levity excited my indignation ; but my compassion for the degeneracy of human nature, exhibited in your infrance, absorbs my contempt.
Chelt. I could be a little angry, but, as bienséance forbids it, I will be a philosopher for once.-A-propos, pray how do you reconcile your-what shall I call it-your unfmooth address to those rules of decorum, that gentleness of manners, of which you say you know and teach the propriety as well as myself ?'
Cic. To confess the truth, I would not advance the arts of embellishment to extreme refinement. Ornamental edu. Cation, or an attention to the graces, has a connexion with effeminacy. In acquiring the gentleman, I would not lose the spirit of a man. There is a gracefulnefs in a manly character, a beauty in an open, an ingenuous disposition, which all the professed teachers of the art of pleasing know not how to infuse.
Chejt. You and I lived in a state of manners, as different as the periods at which we lived were distant. You Romanspardon me, my dear--you Romans had a little of the brute in you. Come, come, I must overlook it. You'were obliged to court plebeians for their fuffrages.; and if fimilis fimili gaudet, it must be uwned, that the greatest of you were secure of their favor. Why, Beau Nash would have handed your Caros and your Brutuses out of the ball
room, if they had shewn their unmanly heads in it ; and my Lord Modish, animated with the conscious merit of the largest or smallest buckles in the room, according to the temporary ton, would have laughed Pompey the Great out: of countenance. Oh, Cicero, had you lived in a modern: European court, you would have caught a degree of that undescribable grace, which is not only the orpament, but may be the substitute of all those labored attainments which fools call folid merit. But it was not your good fortune, and I make allowances.
Cic. The vivacity you have acquired in studying the writings and the manners of the degenerate Gauls, bas led yoy,to set goo high a value on qualifications which dazzle the lively perceptions with a momentary blaze, and to depreciate that kind of worth which can neither be obtained nor understood without serious attention, and sometimes painful efforts. But I will not contend with you
about the propriety or impropriety of the outward modes which delight a fhowy nation. I will not spend arguments in proving, that gold is more valuable than tinfel, though it glitters less. But I must censure you, and with an asperity too, which, perhaps, your graces may not approve, for recommending vice as graceful, in your memorable letters.
Chef. That the great Cicero should know so little of the world, really surprifes me. A little libertinism, my dear, that's all; how can one be a gentleman without a little liba ertinism ?
I ever thought, to be a gentleman, it was requisite: to be a moral man. And surely you, who might have enjoyed the benefit of a light to direct you, which I want
anted, were blameable in omitting religion and virtue in your fyf-.
Chef. What ! superstitious too ! You have not then converfed with your superior, the philosopher of Ferney.. I thank Heaven, I was born in the same age with that great luminary. Prejudice had else, perhaps, chained me in the thraldom of my great grandmother. enlightened days, and I find I have co scributed something to the general illumination, by my posthumous letters. Cic. Boast not of theni.
Remember you were & father,
Chel. And did I not endeavor most effèctually to serve my son, by pointing out the qualifications necessary for a foreigo ambassador, for which department I always deligned him? Few fathers have taken more pains to accomplish a fon than myself There was nothing I did not condescend to point out to him.
Cic. True ; your condescenfion was great indeed. You were the pander of your son. You got only taught him the mean arts of disfimulation, the petty tricks which degrade nobility ; but you corrupted his principles, fomented his paffions, and even pointed out objects for their gratification. You might have left the talk of teaching him, fashionable vice, to a vicious world. Example, and the corrupt affections of human nature, will ever be capable of accomplishing this unnatural purpose. But a parent, the guardian appointed by nature for an uninstructed offspring introduced into a dangerous world, who himself takes upon him the office of seduction, is a monster indeed.
I also had a fon. I was tenderly solicitous for the right conduct of his education. I entrusted him indeed to Cratippus at Athens; but, like you, I could not help transmitting instructions dictated by-parental love.. Those inftructions are contained in my
book of Offices, a book which has ever been cited by the world as a proof, to what a height the morality of the heathens was advanced without the light of revelation. I own, I feel a conscious pride in it; not on account of the ability which it may display, but for the principles it teaches, and the good, I flatter myself, it has diffused. You did. not indeed intend your instructions for the world; but as you gave them to a son you loved, it may be concluded that you thought them true wisdom, and withheld them only because they were contrary to the professions of the unenlightened. They have been generally read; and their uniform tendency has been to introduce vice and immo. sality.
Cheft. Spare me, Cicero. I have never been accustomed to the rough conversation of an old koman, I feel myfelf little in his company. I seem to shrink in his noble prefence. I never felt my insignificance so forcibly as now. French philosophers and French courtiers have been my