is constantly prying closely into every corner, in or der to lay shares for others. Whereas innocence, having no such purposé, walks fearlessly and carelessly through life; and is consequently liable to tread on the gins which cunning hath laid to entrap it. To speak plainly, and without allegory or figure, it is not want of sense, but want of suspicion, by which innocence is often betrayed. Again, we often admire at the folly of the dupe, when we should transfer our whole surprise to the astonishing guilt of the betrayer. In a word, many an innocent person hath owed his ruin to this circumstance alone, that the degree of villany was such as must have exceeded the faith of every man who was not himself a villain.

CHAP. X.

In which are many profound Secrets of Philosophy. BOOTH, having had enough of the author's Воотн, company the preceding day, chose now another companion. Indeed, the author was not very solicitous of a second interview; for, as he could have no hope from Booth's pocket, so he was not likely to receive much increase to his vanity from Booth's conversation; for low as this wretch was in virtue, sense, learning, birth, and fortune, he was by no means low in his vanity. This passion, indeed, was so high in him, and at the same time so blinded him to his own demerits, that he hated every man, who did not either flatter him or give him money. In short, he claimed a strange kind of right; either to cheat all his acquaintance of their praise, or to pick their pockets of their pence; in which latter case, he himself repaid very liberally with panegyric.

A very little specimen of such a fellow must have satisfied a man of Mrs Booth's temper. He chose, therefore, now to associate himself with that gentleman of whom Bondum had given so shabby a character. In short, Mr. Booth's opinion of the bailiff was such, that he recommended a man most where he least intended it. Nay, the bailiff, in the present instance, though he had drawn a malicious conclusion, honestly avowed, that this was drawn only from the poverty of the person; which is never, I believe, any forcible disrecommendation to a good mind; but he must have had a very bad mind, indeed, who, in Mr. Booth's circumstances, could have disliked or despised another man, because that other man was poor.

Some previous conversation having passed between this gentleman and Booth, in which they had both opened their several situations to each other; the former casting an affectionate look on the latter, expressed great compassion for his circumstances; for which Booth thanking him, said, You must ' have a great deal of compassion, and be a very good 'man, in such a terrible situation as you describe 'yourself, to have any pity to spare for other people.'

My affairs, sir,' answered the gentleman, ́ are very bad, it is true; and yet there is one circumstance, which makes you appear to me more the object of pity than I am to myself; and it is this, that you must from your years be a novice in affliction; whereas I have served a long apprenticeship to misery, and ought, by this time, to be a pretty good master of my trade. To say the truth, I believe, habit teaches men to bear 'the burthens of the mind, as it inures them to bear heavy burthens on their shoulders. Without use and experience, the strongest minds and ⚫ bodies both will stagger under a weight which

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habit might render easy, and even contemptible.'

There is great justice,' cries Booth, in the comparison; and, I think, I have myself experienced the truth of it; for I am not that Tyro in affliction, which you seem to apprehend me. And, perhaps it is from the very habit you mention, that I am able to support my present misfortunes a little like a man.'

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The gentleman smiled at this, and cried, Indeed, captain, you are a young philosopher.'

"I think,' cries Booth, I have some pretensions "to that philosophy which is taught by misfortunes; ' and you seem to be of opinion, sir, that is one of ⚫ the best schools of philosophy."

'I mean no more, sir,' said the gentleman, than that in the days of our affliction, we are inclined to think more seriously, than in those seasons of life, when we are engaged in the hurrying pur'suits of business or pleasure, when we have nei'ther leisure nor inclination to sift and examine things to the bottom. Now there are two con'siderations, which, from my having long fixed my thoughts upon them, have greatly supported me under all my afflictions. The one is the brevity of life, even at its longest duration, which 'the wisest of men hath compared to the short di'mension of a span. One of the Roman poets compares it to the duration of a race; and another, to the much shorter transition of a wave.

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The second consideration is the uncertainty of it. Short as its utmost limits are, it is far from being assured of reaching those limits. The next day, the next hour, the next moment may be the ' end of our course. Now of what value is so uncertain, so precarious a station? This consideration, indeed, however lightly it is passed over ⚫ in our conception, doth, in a great measure, level all fortunes and conditions; and gives no man

a right to triumph in the happiest state, or any reason to repine in the most miserable. Would the most worldly men see this in the light in which they examine all other matters, they would soon feel and acknowledge the force of this way of reasoning; for which of them would give any price for an estate from which they were liable to be immediately ejected? or, would they not laugh at him as a madman who accounted himself rich from such an uncertain possession? This is the fountain, sir, from which I have drawn my 'philosophy. Hence it is, that I have learnt to 'look on all those things, which are esteemed the blessings of life, and those which are dreaded as its evils, with such a degree of indifference, that ⚫ as I should not be elated with possessing the former, so neither am I greatly dejected and depressed by suffering the latter. Is the actor esteemed happier to whose lot it falls to play the principal part, than he who plays the lowest ? and yet the drama may run twenty nights together, and by consequence, may outlast our lives; but, at the best, life is only a little longer drama; and the business of the great stage is consequently a little more serious than that which is performed at the Theatre- royal. But even here, the catastrophes and calamities which are repre'sented, are capable of affecting us. The wisest men can deceive themselves into feeling the dis'tresses of a tragedy, though they know them to be merely imaginary; and the children will often lament them as realities; what wonder then, if these tragical scenes, which I allow to be a little more serious, should a little more affect us? where then is the remedy but in the philosophy I have mentioned; which when once by a long course of meditation it is reduced to a habit, 'teaches us to set a just value on every thing; and cures at once all eager wishes and abject fears,

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all violent joy and grief concerning objects which cannot endure long, and may not exist a moment.'

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You have expressed yourself extremely well,' cries Booth; and I entirely agree with the justice of your sentiments; but, however true all this may be in theory, I still doubt its efficacy in practice. And the cause of the difference between these two is this; that we reason from our heads, but act from our hearts:

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-Video meliora, proboque;

Deteriora sequor.

Nothing can differ more widely than wise men and fools in their estimation of things; but, as both act from their uppermost passion, they both often act alike. What comfort then can your philosophy give, to an avaricious man who is deprived of his riches; or, to an ambitious man who is stripped of his power? to the fond lover who is ' torn from his mistress; or, to the tender husband who is dragged from his wife? Do you really think, that any meditations on the shortness of life will soothe them in their afflictions? Is not this very shortness itself one of their afflictions? and if the evil they suffer be a temporary depriva'tion of what they love, will they not think their fate the harder, and lament the more, that they are to lose any part of an enjoyment to which there is so short and so uncertain a period?'

I beg leave, sir,' said the gentleman, to distinguish here. By philosophy, I do not mean the bare knowledge of right and wrong; but an energy, a habit, as Aristotle calls it; and this I do firmly believe, with him and with the Stoics, is 'superior to all the attacks of fortune.'

He was proceeding, when the bailiff came in, and in a surly tone bade them both good-morrow;