from its celestial birth, its immortal nature, framed for the noblest pursuits and attainments, and, in due time, to be restored to all this dignity of being, if it does but behave properly in its present humiliation?

Be that as it will, there is something painful in this strong sense of worthlessness and meanness, that must make people of leisure and reflection pass many an uneasy hour: perhaps, there is nothing better fitted to wean us from life; but in doing that, it by no means ought to hinder us from industry and contentment. Every station, every profession, every trade, has its proper set of employments, of which it is an indispensable duty for every person to inform himself with care, and to execute with patience, perseverance, and diligence. This rule of duty holds from the emperor to the artisan; for though the employments are different, the duty that enforces them is the same in all. Man is born to labour: it is the condition of his being; and the greatest cannot exempt himself from it, without a crime.

If we consider well, we shall find, that all employments, in this transient scene, come pretty much to the same nothingness.-The labours of those who were busy and bustling on this globe five or six hundred years ago-what now remains of them but the merit to the persons themselves, of having been well employed? How many valuable books, the employment, and the worthy one, of whole lives, have perished long ago with the very name of their

authors! The strongest monuments of human art and industry, obelisks, temples, pyramids, are mouldered into dust, and the brittle monuments of female diligence in pie-crust are not more totally lost to the world. To found an empire was enough to gain a sort of immortality; yet the empires themselves have proved mortal.*

There are certainly some employments of a noble and a happy kind, but in no degree answerable to our ideas; for the best we can do is most poor, whether we would improve ourselves, or do good to our fellow creatures, in comparison of the capacity of our mind in its original state, which resembles some vast Roman amphitheatre, that once contained myriads of happy people within its ample round defaced and ruined, it can now scarcely afford shelter from the sudden storm, to a few silly shepherds.

-Empires die. Where now

The Roman? Greek? They stalk an empty name!
Yet few regard them in this useful light;
Though half our learning is their epitaph.

Young's Night Thoughts, ix.

XXIII.

On Resignation to the Will of Providence.

IT is too common for persons who are perfectly convinced of the duty of patience and cheerful resignation under great and severe trials, in which the hand of Providence is plainly seen, to let themselves grow fretful and plaintive under little vexations and slight disappointments, as if their submission in one case gave them a right to rebel in another as if there was something meritorious in the greater sufferings, that gave them a claim to full indulgence in every trifling wish of their heart; and, accordingly, they will set their hearts most violently upon little reliefs and amusements, and complain and pity themselves grievously if they are at any time denied.

All this is building on a false foundation: the same gracious Providence, that sends real afflictions only for our good, will, we may be absolutely sure, afford us such supports and reliefs under them as are needful and fit; but it will not accommodate itself to our idle humour.

To be happy, we must depend for our happiness

on him alone, who is able to give it: we must not lean on human props of any kind; though when granted us, we may thankfully accept and make use of them; but always with caution, not to lay so much weight upon them, as that the reed, broken under our hand, may go into it and pierce it.

On the loss of a friend, we must not say, This and that person, this and that amusement shall be my relief and support: but-To Providence I must submit-Providence will support me in what way it sees proper. The means on which I must depend, under that, are a careful and cheerful performance of, and an acquiescence in whatever is my duty: I must accommodate myself to all its appointments; and be they health or languor; a dull or an active and gay life; a society agreeable to my fancy, or one that is not, or none at all-if I do but endeavour to keep up this right disposition, and behave accordingly, nothing ought to make me melancholy or unhappy, nothing can, nothing shall. Forward

beyond this life, in this case, I not only may, but ought to look with joy and hope, with cheerfulness and alacrity of spirit: forward in this life, it is not only painful, but faulty, to look either with anxiety, or with self-flattering schemes. Yet on this present scene, from day to day, and forward, so far as is necessary to the duty of prudence, I may look with a smile of content and gratitude; for every day has something, has innumerable things, good and cheerful in it, if I know but how to make the best of it.