quence, if their profligacy causes them to become the subjects of paragraphs in a newspaper.

Vanity indeed operates with so violent a force, on some minds, that it seems to contradict itself, and defeat its own purpose: for, in pursuit of notice and distinction, it will even industriously seek disgrace.

As the desire of fame, or distinction, scems natural in man, I contend not against it; but I wish it to operate in urging to acts of singular beneficence and social utility, rather than to spend its force in trifles, follies, vanities, and vices.

But of the greater part of these ambitious persons whom I have just described, it may, I believe, be said that they would act wisely to avoid, instead of seeking distinction, for they seem to be of that character, to which the emphatical words of an elegant, political writer may most justly be applied-" a character which will only pass without censure, when it passes without observation."

If men find themselves insensibly impelled, by the ambition of their nature, to seek distinction, let them learn to seek it by arts and virtues which embellish life, and diffuse happiness or convenience through the various ranks of society. If they cannot do this, let them contentedly acquiesce in harmiess obscurity.

EVENING IX.

ON THE

FXPEDIENCY OF MAKING EXPENSIVE CONNECTIONS TO PROMOTE THE INFERIOR TRADES.

Purpura vendit

Causidicum; vendunt amethystina.

Juv.

N the eye of reason there is certainly no necessary connection between ostentation and excellence. Can the keeping of a chariot be a proof of pre-eminence of knowledge? Certainly not. But such is the world, that the physician on foot stands no chance of being employed, if his rival rides in his chariot.

The preference of the medical professor, who makes a fashionable appearance, to him that does not, has been always remarkable; so much so, that it is almost a pro

verbial question, What is a doctor without his chariot? Formerly large wigs, gold-headed canes, full-trimmed coats, and solemn looks, were considered as natural signs of profound knowledge. They are indeed now voluntarily laid aside by the gentlemen themselves; who seem to think it no disadvantage to appear young in person, and easy in manners. But still the appearance of fashionable life, of servants and equipage, is a very powerful recommendation of them to public favor.

A similar unreasonable association of superior excellence, to a splendid appearance, seems visible in almost every art, trade, and profession.

And this it is which forms one of the most frequent excuses, in young persons, for launching out a little, as they call it, or living beyond their income.

In the lower orders of mercantile life, a young man begins trade with his little patrimony, or with the gift of a living parent, who, perhaps, distresses himself to raise a sum which, though moderate, might, under proper management, grow, like a handful of seed, to a large quantity. A shop, or rather a warehouse (for, as Juvenal says,

........ hic vivimus ambitiosa Paupertate omnes ........

and every thing must now have a magnificent name,) is hired at a considerable rent. It must, in the first place, be fitted up, not only neatly and conveniently (for neatness and convenience are mean ideas,) but elegantly, and sumptuously, in the newest taste.

The door-posts are adorned with sculpture, and the name and trade exhibited on a gorgeous tablet adorned with a profusion of gold and color. The counters, the drawers, the shelves are mahogany; and the master and mistress are every day attired by the most fashionable hairdresser, and descend (which is but rarely) from the sumptuous dining-room to stand behind the counter, just as if they were going into a drawing-room, or the presence-chamber.

Connections are sought with the utmost diligence. To promote them, visits are paid and received with all the formality of fashion. The glass in the dining-room is stuck round with gilt cards of invitation to dinners, suppers, balls, and assemblies.

Well; all this is very pleasing; but how goes on business in the shop-(I beg pardon) in the warehouse? O, the scrubs mind that. Mr. and Mrs. Diaper are too much engaged in dressing in the morning and visiting in the afternoon to regard the low concerns of the shop. The clerk, the journeyman, the apprentice, and the porter, are hired purposely for that business; but let Mr. and Mrs. Diaper alone; they know what they are about, they are promoting trade, by making connexions and cutting a figure. "There is absolutely no succeeding in the present days without cutting a figure."

But the misfortune is, every one is cutting a figure, to the utmost extent of their pecuniary abilities; and the connections which Mr. and Mrs. Diaper make, are themselves making connections, for the sake of advancing their interest. But none of them have a fund sufficient to support the expences of the fashionable life which the affect; and, in the course of a few years, they all, in their turn cut a lamentable figure in the London Ga

zette.

In higher classes, and in professions and employments, which might justly claim a right to genteel life, it is usual to go beyond the line of moderation and propriety, with the delusive idea, that the greater figure a man makes in the external circumstances of a fine house, a luxurious table, a splendid equipage, a tribe of servants, the more likely he is to succeed, and to be aggrandized. In the mean time he is sapping the foundation of his own greatness, and the visionary fabric soon falls to rise no

more.

These ambitious persons, who hope to raise themselves by affecting a rank they cannot support, are well described in the celebrated fable of the frog and the ox. They and their families, after a short struggle, become ridiculous and pitiable. But the misfortune is not confined to themselves; for though their magnificent appearance gained no credit with their superiors, yet it caused them to be trusted by their inferiors, by poor tradesmen, who supplied them with many articles, both necessary and superfluous, in the hope of serving themselves and feeding their families. These are usually great sufferers; for being poor and of little consequence, they stand the worst chance of having their demands satisfied. The

debts of honor, and the expences of fashion, must first be paid; but the butcher, the baker, and the brewer, may come in perhaps for six-pence in the pound, when their customers are gone abroad to live genteelly at Lisle or Brussels.

To make that appearance which our rank requires, provided our purse can pay the expence, argues a proper spirit. But it is surely folly, as well as wrong and robbery, in pursuit of a phantom, to expend on luxury and vanity, the property of those who, in the course of their honest callings, have given us confidence, and entrusted us with what was necessary to our subsistence, or what we considered as conducive to our pleasure and prosperity.

Children brought up to expences and habits which they cannot support, often rue the folly of parents, who, catching at the shadow of honor or wealth, let go the substance, their own happy and independent competency.

EVENING X.

ON DIFFIDENCE IN BOYS.

I WAS once visiting in a family at Christmas, when

the eldest son, a fine boy about twelve years old, came home from school for the holidays. As he entered the parlor, which was full of company, instead of paying his compliments to them with the ease and sufficiency of a master of the ceremonies, he hung down his head, blushed violently, and seemed lost in confusion.

Good God! exclaimed his mother, I shall never be able to endure this. Is this the education of Mr. Classic's school? I do insist upon it, my dear, turning to her husband, that Henry shall go no more to a school where, after three years, he has not learned how to make his entrance into a room with tolerable decency! What will become of my poor child! I shall be ashamed of him—a disgrace, a downright disgrace to the family! The boy's confusion, it may readily be conceived, was not diminished by this passionate and unmotherly reception. He burst into tears and was immediately ordered

to leave the room. After a few remarks on the awkwardness of schoolboys, the company sat down to whist, and poor Henry was sent to bed.

I had an opportunity very soon after of enquiring into the character of the boy, and I found, that so far from being stupid, as supposed by his mother, he was the very best scholar in his class, and had already written one or two pretty copies of Latin verses in the style of Tibullus.

As I am as fond of making experiments in morals, as a natural philosopher is in pneumatics, hydrostatics, or chemistry, I determined to watch the progress of the boy, and to see whether he was likely to become, as his relations hastily concluded, an awkward and stupid man. I found he continued to improve in every accomplishment at his school, for his removal from it was over-ruled by the advice of a sensible clergyman, who had great influence in the family. He went to the university with a great character, which he supported, and is now a very polite gentleman, an excellent scholar, and a most respectable man.

This event led me to lament the prevalence of an idea, that modesty, diffidence, or bashfulness in boys is a sign of stupidity, and on all accounts, ought to be removed as soon as possible.

The finest rose that ever exhaled fragrance and expanded beauty, was once a rose-bud; and had the bud been torn open with violence in its state of immaturity, would it ever have become a beautiful and perfect flower?

Nature, in a state of imperfection, is not ashamed of blushing. She is conscious of her imbecillity, and not afraid to own her diffidence; and while she labors to supply her defects, conceives none to be disgraceful that are unavoidable. Prudence suggests the caution, that we should beware of disturbing nature in her own process, which was undoubtedly prescribed by the God of

nature.

That fine sensibility which causes an efflorescence in the cheek of the schoolboy is, I think, a favorable presage of every thing amiable; while that early ripeness which displays a manliness of behavior at the infantine age, is like every think premature, of short continuance, and of little solidity.