LXXXVI. The covetous man is a downright servant, a draughthorse without bells or feathers; ad metalla damnatus, a man condemned to work in mines, which is the lowest and hardest condition of servitude; and, to increase his misery, a worker there for he knows not whom: "He heapeth up riches, and knows not who shall enjoy them." He is an indigent needy slave; he will hardly allow himself clothes and board wages: Unciatim vix de demenso suo, Suum defraudans genium, comparsit miser. He defrauds not only other men, but his own genius; he cheats himself for money. But the servile and miserable condition of this wretch is so apparent, that I leave it, as evident to every man's sight as well as judgment.— Cowley. LXXXVII. So fruitful is slander in variety of expedients, to satiate as well as disguise itself. But if these smoother weapons cut so sore, what shall we say of open and unblushing scandal, subjected to no caution, tied down to no restraints? If the one, like an arrow shot in the dark, does nevertheless so much secret mischief, this, like the pestilence, which rages at noon-day, sweeps all before it, levelling without distinction the good and the bad; a thousand fall beside it, and ten thousand on its right hand; they fall, so rent and torn in this tender part of them, so unmercifully butchered, as sometimes never to recover either the wounds, or the anguish of heart which they have occasioned.-Sterne. LXXXVIII. Perhaps if we could examine the manners of different nations with impartiality, we should find no people so rude as to be without any rules of politeness; nor any so polite as not to have some remains of rudeness.Franklin. LXXXIX. He that would please in company, must be attentive to what style is most proper. The scholastic should never be used but in a select company of learned men. The didactic should seldom be used, and then only by judicious aged persons, or those who are eminent for piety or wisdom. No style is more extensively acceptable than the narrative, because this does not carry an air of superiority over the rest of the company, and therefore is most likely to please them; for this purpose we should store our memory with short anecdotes and entertaining pieces of history. Almost every one listens with eagerness to extemporary history. Vanity often co-operates with curiosity, for he that is a hearer in one place, wishes to qualify himself to be a principal speaker in some inferior company, and therefore more attention is given to narrations than any thing else in conversation. It is true indeed, that sallies of wit and quick replies are very pleasing in conversation, but they frequently tend to raise envy in some of the company, but the narrative way neither raises this, nor any other evil passion, but keeps all the company nearly upon an equality, and if judiciously managed, will at once entertain and improve them all.-Johnson. XC. There appears to exist a greater desire to live long than to live well! Measure by man's desires, he cannot live long enough; measure by his good deeds, and he has not lived long enough; measure by his evil deeds, and he has lived too long.-Zimmerman. XCI. Economy is the parent of integrity, of liberty, and of ease; and the beauteous sister of temperance, of cheerfulness, and health: and profuseness is a cruel and crafty demon, that gradually involves her followers in dependence and debts; that is, fetters them with "irons that enter into their souls."-Adventurer. How is this! Alsippus saluted me to day, and with a smile threw himself almost out of the coach to take notice of me? I am not rich, and what's worse was afoot; according to the present modes of life, he should not have seen me. Oh! now I have hit on it, it was that I might see him in the same coach with the duke of Bruyere. XCIII. Wit lies most in the assemblage of ideas, and putting those together with quickness and variety, wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity thereby to make up pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy; judgment, on the contrary, lies quite on the other side, in separating carefully one from another, ideas wherein can be found the least difference, thereby to avoid being misled by similitude, and by affinity to take one thing for another.-Locke. XCIV. In the bottle, discontent seeks for comfort, cowardice for courage, and bashfulness for confidence.-John son. XCV. A true critic is a sort of a mechanic set up with a stock and tools for his trade, at as little expense as a tailor; and indeed there is much analogy between the utensils and abilities of both: thus the tailor's hell is the type of a critic's common place book, and his wit and learning held forth by the goose: and it requires at least as many of the one to the making up of one scholar, as of the other to the composition of a man: also the valour of both is equal, and their weapons near of a size. Some account says, that the writings of critics are the mirrors of learning; by which we are to understand literally, that a writer should inspect into the books of the critics, and correct his invention there as in a mirror. Now, whoever considers that the mirrors of the ancients were made of brass and fine mercurio, may presently apply the two principal qualifications of a true modern critic, and consequently always conclude that these have been and must be for ever the same. For brass is an emblem of duration; and when it is skilfully burnished, will cast reflections from its own superficies, without any assistance of a mercury from behind. The true critics may be known by their talents of swarming about the noblest writers, to which they are carried merely by instinct, as a rat to the best cheese, or a wasp to the fairest flower. Lastly, I define a true critic to be, in the perusal of a book, like a dog at a feast, whose thoughts and stomach are wholly set upon what guests fling away, and consequently is apt to snarl most when there are the fewest bones.-Swift. XCVI. There is nothing more universally commended than a fine day; the reason is, that people can commend it without envy.-Shenstone. XCVII. The saying, do as you would be done to, is often misunderstood, for 'tis not thus meant, that I, a private man, should do to you a private man, as I would have you do to me: but do as we have agreed to do one to another by public agreement. If the prisoner should ask the judge whether he would be contented to be hanged, where he in his case, he would answer no. Then, says the prisoner, do as you would be done to: neither of them must do as private men, but the judge must do by him as they have publicly agreed; that is, both judge and prisoner have consented to a law, that if either of them steal, they shall be hanged.-Selden. XCVIII. Our remedies oft' in ourselves do lie, XCIX. Every one is a virtuosa, of a higher or lower degree: every one pursues a Grace, and courts a Venus of one kind or another. The venestumes, the honestumes, the decorum of things, will force its way.-Shaftesbury. C. There is nothing so bad which will not admit of something to be said in its defence.-Sterne. CI. Custom, curiosity, or wantonness, supplies every art with patrons, and finds purchasers for every manufacture; the world is so adjusted, that not only bread, but riches may be obtained without great abilities, or arduous performances: the most unskilful hand and unenlightened mind have sufficient incitements to industry; for he that is resolutely busy, can scarcely be in want. There is, indeed, no employment, however despicable, from which a man may not promise himself more than competence, when he sees thousands and myriads raised to dignity, by no other merit than that of contributing to supply their neighbours with the means of sucking smoke through a tube of clay; and others raising contributions upon those, whose elegance disdains the grossness of smoky luxury, by grinding the same materials into a powder that may at once gratify and impair the smell.Adventurer. CII. Riches like insects, while concealed they lie, If some men died, and others did not, death would indeed be a most mortifying evil.-Bruyere. CIV. Every man is rich or poor, according to the propor tion between his desires and enjoyments. Of riches as |