had already more by half than he knew what to do with. In short, content is equivalent to wealth, and luxury to poverty; or, to give the thought a more agreeable turn, "Content is natural wealth," says Socrates; to which I shall add, luxury is artificial poverty. I shall therefore recommend to the consideration of those who are always aiming at superfluous and imaginary enjoyments, and who will not be at the trouble of contracting their desires, an excellent saying of Bion, the philosopher, namely, "That no man has so much care, as he who endeavors after the most happiness." In the second place, every one ought to reflect how much more unhappy he might be than he really is. The former consideration took in all those who are sufficiently provided with the means to make themselves easy; this regards such as actually lie under some pressure or misfortune. These may receive great alleviation, from such a comparison as the unhappy person may make between himself and others; or between the misfortune which he suffers, and greater misfortunes which might have befallen him. I like the story of the honest Dutchman, who, upon breaking his leg by a fall from the main-mast, told the standers by, it was a great mercy that it was not his neck. To which, give me leave to add the saying of an old philosopher, who, after having invited some of his friends to dine with him, was ruffled by a person that came into the room in a passion, and threw down the table that stood before him: "Every one," says he, "has his calamity; and he is a happy man that has no greater than this." I cannot conclude this essay without observing, that there never was any system, besides that of Christianity, which could effectually produce in the mind of man, the virtue I have been hitherto speaking of. In order to make us contented with our condition, many of the present philosophers tell us, that our discontent only hurts ourselves, without being able to make any alteration in our circumstances; others, that whatever evil befalls us is derived to us by a fatal necessity, to which superior beings themselves are subject; while others, very gravely, tell the man who is miserable, that it is necessary he should be so, to keep up the harmony of the universe; and that the scheme of Providence would be troubled and perverted, were he otherwise. These, and the like considerations, rather silence than satisfy a man. They may show him that his discontent is unreasonable, but they are by no means sufficient to relieve it. They rather give despair than consolation. In a word, a man might reply to one of these comforters, as Augustus did to his friend who advised him not to grieve for the death of a person whom he loved, because his grief could not fetch him back again: "It is for that very reason," said the emperor, "that I grieve." On the contrary, religion bears a more tender regard to human nature. It prescribes to every miserable man the means of bettering his condition: nay, it shows him, that bearing his afflictions as he ought to do, will naturally end in the removal of them. It makes him easy here, because it can make him happy hereafter. ADDISON. LESSON LIII. SELECT PARAGRAPHS. Cheerfulness. FAIR guardian of domestic life! By thee with flowers their board is crowned; Content. Content! the good, the golden mean, AKENSIDE. In vain we wealth and treasure heap; 'Tis only he is rich, that wishes for no more. ANONYMOUS. Gayety. Whom call we gay? that honor has been long But save me from the gayety of those, The mouth with blasphemy, the heart with woe. Hope. Primeval HOPE! the Aonian Muses say, COWPER. When man and nature mourned their first decay; When Peace and Mercy, banished from the plain, Fortitude. CAMPBELL Be hushed, my dark spirit! for wisdom condemns Be strong as the rock of the ocean, that stems Through the perils of chance, and the scowl of disdain, Yea, even the name I have worshiped in vain To bear is to conquer our fate. CAMPBELL Perseverance. Vigor from toil, from trouble patience grows. But, ah! it withers in the chilling hour. And toss their giant arms amid the skies, While each assailing blast increase of strength supplies. LESSON LIV. THE QUIET MIND. THOUGH low my lot, my wish is won, My hopes are few and staid, If I have foes, no foes I fear, I wish not it were mine to wear Flushed honor's sunny crown; I only wish the bliss of life, The trumpet's taunt in battle-field, The great man's pedigree, What peace can all their honors yield? And what are they to me? Though praise and pomp, to eke the strife, Rave like a mighty wind; What are they to the calm of life, A still and quiet mind? I see the world pass heedless by, BEATTIE. It costs me not a single sigh For either wealth or power; They are but men, and I'm a man Proud, too, that life gives all she can, And come what will of care or woe, They're comforts in their kind; When friends depart, as part we must, A prop and friend I still shall have, JOHN CLARE. POLITENESS is the just medium between form and rudeness. It is the consequence of a benevolent nature, which shows itself to general acquaintance in an obliging, unconstrained civility, as it does to more particular ones in distinguished acts of kindness. This good nature must be directed by a justness of sense, and a quickness of discernment, that knows how to use every opportunity of exercising it, and to proportion the instances of it to every character and situation. It is a restraint laid by reason and benevolence upon every irregularity of the temper, which, in obedience to them, is forced to accommodate itself even to the fantastic cares, which custom and fashion have established, if, by these means, it can procure, in any degree, the satisfaction or good opinion of any part of man |