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Remember how unknown to you are the vicissitudes of the world ; and how often they, on whom ignorant and contemptuous young men once looked down with scorn, have risen to be their superiors in future years. Compassion is an emotion of which you ought never to be ashamed. Graceful in youth is the lear of sympathy,and the heart that melts at the tale of woe, Let not ease and indulgence contract your affections, and wrap you up in selfish enjoyment. Accustom yourselves to think of the distresses of human life ; of the solitary cottage, the dy. ing parent and the weeping urphan. Never sport with pain and distress in any of your amusemenis, nor treat even the meanest insect with wanton cruelty.
VII.-Industry and Application.--!B.
DILIGENCE, industry, and proper improvement of time, are material duties of the young. To no purpose are they endowed with the best abilities, if they want activity for exerting them. Unavailing in this case, will be every direction that can be given them, ei. ther for their temporal or spiritual welfare. In youth the habits of industry are most easily acquired ; in youth the incentives to it are strongest, from ambition and from duty, from emulation and hope, from all the prose pects which the beginning of life affords. If, dead to these calls, you already languish in slothful inaction, what will be able to quicken the more sluggish current of advancing years ? Industry is not only the instrument of improvement, but the foundation of pleasure. Nothing is so opposite to true enjoyment of life, as the re, laxed and feeble state of an indolent mind. He who is a stranger to industry may possess, but he cannot enjoy. For it is labor only which gives the relish to pleasure. It is the appointed vehicle of every good man. the indispensible condition of our possessing a sound mind in a sound body. Sloth is so inconsistent with both, that it is hard to determine whether it be a greater foe to virtue, or to health and happiness. Inactive as it is in itself, its effects are fatally powerful. Though it appear a slowly flowing stream, yet it undermincsall that is stable
and flourishing. It not only saps the foundation of every virtue, but pours upon you a deluge of crimes and evils. It is like water, which first putrefies by stagnation, and then sends up noxious vapours and fills the atmosphere with death. Fly therefore from idleness, as the certain parent both of guilt and ruin. And under idleness I include, not mere inaction only, but all that circle of trifting occupations in which too many saunter away their youth ; perpetually engaged in frivolous society or public amusements ; in the labors of dress or the ostentation of their persons. Is this the foundation which you lay for future usefulness and esteem? By such accomplishments do you hope to reconimend yourselves to the thinking part of the world, and to answer the expectations of your friends and your country? Amusements youth requires ; it were vain, it were cruel to prohibit them. But though allowable as the relaxation, they are most culpable as the business of the young. For they then become the gulf of time, and the poison of the mind. They foment bad passions. They weak. en the manly powers. They sink the native vigor of youth into contemptible effeminacy.
Proper Employment of Time.B. REDEEMING your time from such dangerous waste, seek to fill it with employments which you may review with satisfaction. The acquisition of knowledge is one of the most honorable occupations of youth. The desire of it discovers a liberal mind, and is connected with many accomplishments and many virtues. But though your train of life should not lead you to study, the course of education always furnishes proper employments to a well disposed mind. Whatever you pursue, be emu. lous to excel. Generous ambition, and sensibility to praise, are, especially at your age, among the marks of virtue. Think not that any affluence of fortune, or any elevation of rank, exempts you from the duties of application and industry. industry is the law of our being ; it is the demand of nature, of reason and of God. Remember, always, that the years which now pass over your heads, leave permanent memorials behind them.
From the thoughtless mind they may escape ; but they remain in the remembrance of God. They form an important part of the register of your life. They will hereafter bear testimony, either for or against you, at that day, when, for all your actions, but particularly fur the employments of youth, you must give an account to God. Whether your future course is destined to be long or short, after this manner it should commence, and if it continue to be thus conducted, its : conclusion, at what time soever it arrives, will not be inglorious or unhappy.
IX. The true Patriot.-ART OF THINKING.
ANDREW DORIA, of Genoa, the greatest sea cap. tain of the age he lived in, set his country free from the yoke of France. Beloved by his fellow-citizens, and supported by the emperor Charles V. it was in his pow. er to assume sovereignty, without the least struggle. But he preferred the virtuous satisfaction of giving liberty to his countrymen. He declared in public assem. bly, that the happiness of seeing them once more restored to liberty, was to him a full reward for all his servi. ces; that he claimed no pre.eminence above his equals,' but remitted to them absolutely to settle a proper form of government. Doria's magnanimity put an end to factions, that had long vexed the state ; and a form of government was established, with great unanimity, the same, that with very little alteration, subsists at present. Doria lived to a great age, beloved and honored by his countrymen ; and without ever making a single step out of his rank as a private citizen, he retained to his dying hour, great influence in the republic. Power, founded on love and gratilude, was to him more pleas. ant than what is founded on sovereignty.
His memory is reverenced by the Genoese ; and, in their histories and public monuments, there is bestowed on him the most honorable of all titles-FATHER of his COUN. TRY, and Resi URER of iis LIBERTY.
X. On Contentment, -SPECTATOR.
CONTENTMENT produces, in some measure, all "those effects which the alchymist usually ascribes to what he calls the Philosopher's stone ; and if it does not bring riches, it does the same thing, by banishing the desire of them. Ifit cannot remove the disquietudes arising out of a man's mind, body or fortune, it makes him easy under them. It has, indeed, a kindly influence on the soul of a man, in respect of every being to whom he stands related. It extinguishes all murmur, repining and ingratitude towards that Being, who has allotted him his part to act in this world. It destroys all inordinate ambition, and every tendency to corruption, with regard to the community wherein he is plac. ed. It gives sweetness to his conversation, and perpet. ual serenity to all his thoughts.
Among the many methods which might be made use of for acquiring of this virtue, I shall only mention the two following: First of all, a man should always cono sider how much he has more than he wants ; and secondly how much more unhappy he might be, than he really is.
First of all, a man should always consider how much he has more than he wants. I am wonderfully well pleased with the reply which Aristippus made to one who condoled him upon the loss of a'farm :
" Why," said he, “ I have three farms still, and you have but one, so that I ought rather to be afflicted for you than you for me.” On the contrary, foolish men are more apt to consider what they have lost, than what they possess; and to fix their eyes upon those who are richer than themselves, rather than on those who are under greater difficulties. All the real pleasures and conveniences of life lie in a narrow compass; but it is the humor of mankind to be always looking forward and straining afterone who has got the start of the ni in wealth and honor. For this reason, as there are none can be properly called rich who have not more than they want; there are few rich men, in any of the politer nations, but among the middle sort of people, who keep their wishes within their
förtunes, and have more wealth than they know how to enjoy. Persons of higher rank live in a kind of splendid poverty ; and are perpetually wanting, because, instead of acquiescing in the solid pleasures of life, hey endeavor to outrie one another in shadows and appear.
Men of sense have at all times beheld, with a great deal of mirth, this silly game that is playing over their lieads ; and by contracting their desires, enjoy all that secret satisfaction which others are always in quest of. The truth is, this ridiculous chace after imaginary pleasure cannot be sufficiently exposed, as it is the great source of those evils which generally undo a nation. Let a man's estate be what it will, he is a poor man if he does not live within it, and naturally sets himself to sale to any one who can give him his price. When Pittacus, after the death of his brother, who had left him a good estate, was offered a great sum of money by the king of Lydia, he thanked him for his kindness, but told him he 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 inore agreeable turn, “ Content is natural wealth," says Socrates; to which I shall add, Luxury is artificial povero v. I shall therefore recommend to the consideration of those who are always aiming after superfluous and imaginary enjoyments, and 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 unbappy he might be than he really is. The former consideration took in all those who are sufficient. ly provided with the means to make themselves easy ; this regards such as actually lie under some pressure or misfortune. These niay 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 ypon breaking his leg by a fall from the mainmast, told the