his life too ftrictly enquires what he has done, can very feldom receive from his own heart fuch an account as will give him fatisfaction.

We do not indeed fo often disappoint others as ourselves. We not only think more highly than others of our own abilities, but allow ourselves to form hopes which we never communicate, and please our thoughts with employments which none ever will allot us, and with elevations to which we are never expected to rife; and when our days and years are paffed away in common business or common amusements, and we find at laft that we have fuffered our purposes to fleep till the time of action is past, we are reproached only by our own reflections; neither our friends nor our enemies wonder that we live and die like the reft of mankind; that we live without notice, and die without memorial: they know not what task we had propofed, and therefore cannot difcern whether it is finished.

He that compares what he has done with what he has left undone, will feel the effect which muft always follow the comparison of imagination with reality; he will look with contempt on his own unimportance, and wonder to what purpose he came into the world; he will repine that he shall

leave

leave behind him no evidence of his having been, that he has added nothing to the fyftem of life, but has glided from youth to age among the crowd, without any effort for distinction.

Man is feldom willing to let fall the opinion of his own dignity, or to believe that he does little only because every individual is a very little being. He is better content to want diligence than power, and fooner confeffes the depravity of his will than the imbecility of his nature.

From this mistaken notion of human greatness it proceeds, that many who pretend to have made great advances in wisdom fo loudly declare that they despise themselves. If I had ever found any of the felf-contemners much irritated or pained by the consciousness of their meanness, I fhould have given them confolation by observing, that a little more than nothing is as much as can be expected from a being, who, with respect to the multitudes about him, is himself little more than nothing. Every man is obliged, by the fupreme Master of the Univerfe, to improve all the opportunities of good which are afforded him, and to keep in continual activity such abilities as are bestowed upon him. But he has no reason to repine, though his abilities are fmall, and his opportunities

portunities few. He that has improved the virtue or advanced the happiness of one fellow-creature; he that has afcertained a fingle moral propofition, or added one useful experiment to natural knowledge, may be contented with his own performance, and, with refpect to mortals like himself, may demand, like Auguftus, to be difmiffed at his departure with applause.

ANECDOTE.

HEN Field-Marfhal Fretag was taken prifoner at Rexpoede, the French Huffar who feized him, perceiving that he had a valuable watch, faid, "Give me your watch:" The Marfhal inftantly complied with the demand of his captor. A fhort time after, when he was liberated by General Walmoden, and the French Huffar had become a prifoner in his turn, the latter, with great unconcern, pulled the Marshal's watch out of his pocket, and presenting it to him, faid, "Since fate has turned against me, take back this watch, it belonged to you, and it would not be fo well to let others ftrip me of it."

Marfhal Fretag, admiring this principled conduct of the Sans Culotte, who did not know him, took

took back the watch, and immediately after prefented it to the Frenchman, faying, "Keep the watch; it fhall not be mine, for I have been your prifoner."

To the NOBILITY, GENTRY, &c.

THE HUMBLE PETITION

OF

WANT and MISERY.

'HILE thro' the drear of froft and

WH

ILE

Shiv'ring and ftarving now we go,

O caft a tender eye!

For this good end your wealth was giv'n;
You are the delegates of Heav'n,

To ftop the heart-felt figh!

While cloth'd in fur you ftand elate,
You cannot feel our wretched ftate,
You cannot form our woe;

Yet must each sympathetic breast,
When once it hears how we're distress'd,
And how forlorn we go,

When cold and hunger both prevail,

And both with equal force affail

To wound a mortal frame,

K

fnow,

Bring

Bring to each mind a horrid view,
A fcene as horrid as 'tis true,
And almoft wants a name.

The parent hears his offspring cry,
The children watch the parent's eye,
And catch the falling tear;

They echo back each dismal groan,
'Till foon one univerfal moan
And forrow rends the air.

Tho' worthless objects may be found,
Who juftly feel the piercing wound,
Yet be their faults their own;
Leave them to Heav'n while you difpenfe
Thofe bleffings you've receiv'd from thence,
And gain th' immortal crown.

How many pray'rs you'll then obtain!
How many bleflings not in vain,

Unworthily beftow'd!

From morn to night, from night to day,

Poor Want and Mifery will pray,

To blefs the great and good.

SPIRITUAL