and give him daily less and less trouble. At length he learns to hear with quiet the loudest complaints, and regards with indifference the keenest anguish, of the poor and wretched.

Never loved by mankind, he becomes at length detested. As he has regarded none, he is by none regarded. His success only awakens regret. His misfortunes are welcomed with pleasure, repeated with a smile, and acknowledged as proofs of a righteous Providence. His sickness is announced without a sigh, and his death without a tear.

Even his own family consider him as a mere incumbrance; or, at the best, as a caterer for themselves; as born to toil, and watch, and weary himself, that they may hereafter enjoy the fruits of his labours. Neither willing to taste of his earnings with them, nor to taste them alone, they can see no end, for which he should be continued in life, after he has ceased to earn. Around his death-bed they sit unmoved, in spite of the impulse of natural affection, which is unable to influence them either to love or respect him; and his corpse they follow with cold decency to the grave.

A Fifth is charmed with gracefulness of life and deportment, with refinement and elegance; and determines to be distinguished as a man of accomplished manners, and polished taste. Rich dress, splendid equipage, extensive buildings, and luxurious tables, are regarded by him as vulgar things; as the mere fruits of money; which a clown may earn, and expend. They prove, indeed, the owner's wealth; but are no evidences of the superiority of his mind. Something of a higher cast, something more indicative of refinement and elegance of thought, is in his own view demanded of the man, who would be distinguished for liberal endowments, and elegant accomplishments. To wear the most graceful attire ; to become a Chesterfield in manners and conversation; to shine in the most polished company; to be styled The Gentleman by way of eminence; and to be regarded as the standard of appeal in every case of propriety; are the objects of his utmost ambition, and the sources of all his high enjoyment. Things are to him of little value: the forms of things, the modes in which they are to appear, to act, and to operate, engross his attention, wishes, and labours. To him the matter, the substance, is of no consequence; a mere block of marble in the quarry; useful only as it is capable

of being fashioned into grace and elegance by the hand of a master. The manner is, in his view, all that is valuable, or desirable. To do good things is in his estimation of no importance; for a boor may do them; but to do handsome things is the consummation of human attainments. Usefulness is of course a blank page in the volume of his life; and worth is left out of his catalogue of honourable qualities. To the eye of a considerate man he appears as a portrait, in which the face was merely sketched; and the mind, beaming through it, forgotten; while the art and labour of the painter were wholly lavished on the folds of the drapery. To such a man importance and respectability cannot be attached. Like such a picture, he may be admired for a while; but, after having been often seen, and become uninteresting by having become familiar, he ceases ultimately to attract attention, and is laid aside with other useless furniture.

A Sixth sits down soberly to the engrossing attainments of science. To be learned is the great object of his ambition; and to enjoy the sweets of knowledge the commanding dictate of his relish for pleasure. In his study he dwells: in his books he passes his life. To think appears to him the only proper end of human existence; while to do is not even entered on the register of his duties. The great distinction between men, and brutes, he perceives to be the intellect; and concludes, therefore, that difference of intellect is the only ground of distinction between men. With him an unlearned man passes only for a brute of a higher class; a connecting link between apes and real men. From the summit of sublime demonstrations, and the pinnacle of philosophical greatness, he looks down with scorn and pity on the grovelling beings, who creep over the plain below; and is ready to wonder, why such humble creatures were brought into existence; and, still more, why they were endued with the faculties of thought and speech. If it were possible for a proud man to be thankful, he would, at times, feel grateful emotions, that Providence has assigned to him a higher station; and not destined him to a character and to employments, totally unworthy of a rational being. In the mean time, he knows not that the whole end of thinking is action; and the whole use of science, in its most extended researches, the advancement of human happiness; that, when it terminates not in

this end, it is gold buried in the earth; useless, because it is not employed in the business of life. He has not discovered, that science is a means, and not an end. He does not discern, that a mind, richly fraught with knowledge, and existing only to think, is a watch, furnished indeed with wheels, and pinions, but without a spring to set it in motion, a balance to regulate it, or a hand to mark its circuits: a pretty object to the eye of curiosity, but of no use to its maker. He mistrusts not, that the clown, who faithfully follows the plough, or wields the hoe and the spade, is a better member of society than himself; nor dreams, that the two mites of such a man will be accepted as a gift to God, while his own abundance will be slighted and forgotten. The whole end of his life, so far as his fellow-creatures are concerned, is to excite admiration; and, so far as himself is concerned, to gratify the love of knowing. To his fellow-men his existence, among them, is as uninteresting, as to the inhabitants of another planet; for he feels no obligation to wish their happiness, and makes no effort to promote it. His talents, though formed for the noblest ends, and furnishing means of distinguished usefulness, are all closeted in his mind, or wasted over his books. After his death, his whole history may be written in this short epitaph:

Here lies a Learned Man.

A Seventh, and from all these a widely different character is found in the plain and modest walks of life. Convinced, that it is foolish and dangerous to mind high things; that competence is better than riches, moderation than splendour, and a private station than public offices; convinced, that extensive aims create excessive cares; that to be esteemed graceful is less desirable than to be accounted useful; that sloth is a mere standing pool, nauseous and deadly, and prodigality a troubled ocean, without a pilot, and without a shore he determines to aim at being beloved, rather than admired; at being unopposed, rather than victorious over opposition; and at being unenvied, rather than superior to the attacks of envy. Satisfied with this decision, he enters originally upon a plain life, as his portion. While others aim at an empire, or a world, as their sphere of action, he finds his in a neighbourhood. To manage his family affairs, and occasionally those of a

small circle around him, is the only employment which he covets. To acquire so much property as may satisfy daily demands, and afford a stock on which he may repose in misfortune, and age; to gain the character of a good husband, father, neighbour, friend, and citizen; to be sufficiently polished, to find a ready admission into the company of those with whom he corresponds; and to possess that share of learning, which will render him an object of village respect, and entitle him to a place among his reputable neighbours are all which he attempts, and almost all which he wishes. Freedom from trouble and embarrassment; safety from duns, and losses; security from the hazard of disesteem and disgrace; and the possession of competence, quiet, decency, and good-will; are the prime objects of his pursuit. All these, in the common.course of things, he easily acquires: for in the pursuit of these opposition is rarely found, and disappointment seldom occurs. A pang he may now and then experience, when he is told of the opulence and elevation of one, and another, of his former companions; but he feels himself abundantly compensated, when he hears of the bankruptcy of the one, and the downfall of the other. In these cases, he hugs his own safety; and congratulates himself on the wisdom of that course of life, which he has chosen repeating often, and with much self-complacency, the superiority of that golden mean, which the wise man of antiquity so highly extolled; and which Agur, wiser than all of them, selected as the favourite object of his choice.

Thus quietly and easily he glides down the stream of life; despised, indeed, by some, and pitied by others; but by those around him generally beloved and respected.. When he leaves the world, he leaves it, with the regret and the tears of those, to whose happiness he has contributed by his friendly offices.

The Eighth and last character, which I shall describe, pursues a course differing from them all: Not indeed from the five last in the business of life; for in this he may resemble any of them; but in the disposition, by which he is governed. Early sensible that he is an accountable creature, accountable to that God by whom he was created, and from whom he receives all his means of usefulness and comfort; he makes it his commanding object so to. use them all, as at the end of life, to secure the divine approbation.

From the sluggard and the prodigal, he differs in the conviction, that diligence and prudence are duties and virtues; and from all those whom I have mentioned, in the conviction. that duty is his whole business; that virtue is his only glory, honour, or happiness; and that he was born to centre every view, engage every faculty, and employ every moment, in serving God, and not himself. Their endeavours ali terminated in themselves. None of them felt the obligation of being useful to others, except when it contributed to his own personal convenience. With him, the first thing is to benefit others; to benefit himself, the second. To do good is in his view the only road to gain, or enjoy, it. The blessedness of the Infinite Mind he finds declared in the Scriptures to arise from the unlimited and endless communication of good to others. If he will obtain a happiness, resembling this, he is taught by the Scriptures, and confirmed in the doctrine by the fullest attestation of Reason, that he must possess a similar character, and pursue similar conduct; must seek for enjoyment in doing good, and not in gaining it from others.

From all these persons he differs, also, in the full conviction, that he was born for eternal being; and that the principal business of the present life is effectually to provide for the life beyond the grave; that, of course, all his efforts ought to be directed to this infinite object; and that nothing deserves his attention any farther than it consists with that aim, or contributes to its accomplishment. Thus he begins life with a new system, and a new end. The views of all, who have preceded him, were bounded by the grave his are expanded through eternity. Their views centred in themselves; his are circumscribed only by the universe of being. One of those things, which, at the commencement of his career, naturally strike his mind with the greatest force, is a strong propensity in his heart, resisting powerfully every effort to pursue the course, which he has prescribed for himself. Avarice, Ambition, Sensuality, are all weeds naturally springing up in his own mind, as well as in the minds of others; and naturally flourishing unless carefully rooted up by the hand of culture. To check, and as far as may be to exterminate, these propensities, becomes therefore one of his earliest labours. Nor is it merely an early, but a daily, labour: for, like the good seed