among men; but when, in process of time, Ambition and Vice, with their attendant evils, were sent down as a scourge to the human race, I made my appearance, I am the offspring of Misfortune and Virtue, and was sent by Heaven to teach my parents how to support their afflictions with magnanimity. As I grew up, I became the intimate friend of the wisest among men. I was the bosom friend of Plato, and other illustrious sages of antiquity, and was then often known by the name of Philosophy, though, in present times, when that title is usurped by mere makers of experiments, and inventors of blacking-cakes, I am only known by the appellation of Melancholy. So far from being of a discontented disposition, my very essence is pious and resigned contentment. I teach my votaries to support every vicissitude of fortune with calmness and fortitude. It is mine to subdue the stormy propensities of passion and vice, to foster and encourage the principles of benevolence and philanthropy, and to cherish and bring to perfection the seeds of virtue and wisdom. Though feared and hated by those who, like my accuser, are ignorant of my nature, I am courted and cherished by all the truly wise, the good, and the great; the poet wooes me as the goddess of inspiration; the true philosopher acknowledges himself indebted to me for his most expansive views of human nature; the good man owes to me that hatred of the wrong and love of the right, and that disdain for the consequences which may result from the performance of his duties, which keeps him good; and the religious flies to me for the only clear and unencumbered view of the attributes and perfections of the Deity. So far from being idle, my mind is ever on the wing in the regions of fancy, or that true philosophy which opens the book of human nature, and raises the soul above the evils incident to life. If I am useless, in the same degree were Plato and Socrates, Locke and Paley, useless; it is true that my immediate influence is confined, but its effects are disseminated by means of literature over every age and nation, and mankind, in every generation, and in every clime, may look to me as their remote illuminator, the original spring of the principal intellectual benefits they possess. But as there is no good without its attendant evil, so I have an elder sister, called Frenzy, for whom I have often been mistaken, who sometimes follows close on my steps, and to her I owe much of the obloquy which is attached to my name; though the puerile accusation which has just been brought against me turns on points which apply more exclusively to myself. She ceased, and a dead pause ensued. The multitude seemed struck with the fascination of her utterance and gesture, and the sounds of her voice still seemed to vibrate on every ear. The attention of the assembly, however, was soon recalled to the accuser, and their indignation at his baseness rose to such a height as to threaten general tumult, when the Goddess of Wis dom arose, and, waving her hand for silence, beckoned the prisoner to her, placed her on her right hand, and, with a sweet smile, acknowledged her for her old companion and friend. She then turned to the ac cuser, with a frown of severity so terrible, that I involuntarily started with terror from my poor misguided friend, and with the violence of the start I awoke, and, instead of the throne of the Goddess of Wisdom, and the vast assembly of people, beheld the first rays of the morning peeping over the eastern cloud; and, instead of the loud murmurs of the incensed multitude, heard nothing but the soft gurgling of the river at my feet, and the rustling wing of the sky-lark, who was now beginning his first matin-song. W. 1 MELANCHOLY HOURS. Σκοπησαμενος εὑρισκον ουδαμώς αν άλλως αύ της THE world has often heard of fortune-hunters, legacy hunters, popularity-hunters, and hunters of various descriptions one diversity, however, of this very extensive species has hitherto eluded public animadversion; I allude to the class of friend-hunters-men who make it the business of their lives to acquire friends, in the hope, through their influence, to arrive at some desirable point of ambitious eminence. Of all the mortifications and anxieties to which mankind voluntarily subject themselves, from the expectation of future benefit, there are, perhaps, none more galling, none more insupportable, than those attendant on friend-making. Shew a man that you court his society, and it is a signal for him to treat you with neglect and contumely. Humour his passions, and he despises you as a sycophant. Pay implicit deference to his opinions, and he laughs at you for your folly. In all, he views you with contempt, as the creature of his will, and the slave of his caprice. I remember I once solicited the acquaintance and coveted the friendship of one man, and, thank God, I can yet say (and I hope on my death-bed I shall be able to say the same) of ONLY one man. Germanicus was a character of considerable eminence in the literary world. He had the reputation not only of an enlightened, understanding and refined taste, but of openness of heart and goodness of disposition. His name always carried with it that weight and authority which are due to learning and genius in every situation. His manners were polished, and his conversation elegant. In short, he possessed 4every qualification which could render him an enviable addition to the circle of every man's friends. With such a character, as I was then very young, I could not fail to feel an ambition of becoming aquainted, when the opportunity offered, and in a short time we were upon terms of familiarity. To ripen this familiarity into friendship, as far as the most awkward diffidence would permit, was my strenuous endeavour. If his opinions contradicted mine, I immediately, without reasoning on the subject, conceded the point to him as a matter of course that he must be right, and, by consequence, that I must be wrong Did he atter a witticism, I was sure to laugh; and if he looked grave, though nobody could tell why, it was *mine to groan. By this conforming myself to his humour, I flattered myself I was making some progress in his good graces, but I was soon undeceived. A man seldom cares much for that which costs him no pains to procure. Whether Germanicus found me a troublesome visitor, or whether he was really displeased with something I had unwittingly said or done, certain it is, that when I met him one day, in company with persons of apparent figure, he had lost all recollection of my features. I called upon him, but Germanicus was not at home. Again and again I gave a hesitating knock at the great man's doorall was to no purpose. He was still not at home. The sly meaning, however, which was couched in the speer of the servant the last time that, half ashamed of my errand, I made my inquiries at his house, convinced me of what I ought to have known before, that Germanicus was at home to all the world save me. I believe, with all my seeming humility, I am a confounded proud fellow at bottom; my rage at this discovery, therefore, may be better conceived tha described. Ten thousand curses did I imprecate of the foolish vanity which led me to solicit the friend ship of my superiors; and again and again did I vow down eternal vengeance on my head, if I ever mor condescended thus to court the acquaintance of man fo this resolution I believe I shall ever adhere. If 2. am destined to make any progress in the world, it will be by my own individual exertions. As I elbow my way through the crowded vale of life, I will never in any emergency, call on my selfish neighbour for assistance. If my strength give way beneath the pressure of calamity, I shall sink without his whine of hypocritical condolence; and if I do sink, let him kick me into the ditch, and go about his business. asked not his assistance while living, it will be of De service to me when dead... Believe me, reader, whoever thou mayest be, there are few among mortals, whose friendship, when a 12 quired, will repay thee for the meanness of solicitation. If a man voluntarily holds out his hand to thee, take it with caution. If thou find him honest, be not backward to receive his proffered assistance, and be anxious, when occasion shall require, to yield to him thine own. A real friend is the most valuable blessing a man can possess, and, mark me, it is by far the most rare. It is a black swan. But, whatever thou mayest do, solicit not friendship. If thou art young, and would make thy way in the world, bind thyself z seven years' apprentice to a city tallow-chandler, and thou mayest in time come to be lord mayor. Many people have made their fortunes at a tailor's board. Periwig-makers have been known to buy their country-seats, and bellows-menders have started their curricles; but seldom, very seldom, has the man who placed bis dependence on the friendship of his fellow-men arrived at even the shadow of the honours to which, through that medium, he aspired. Nay, even if thou shouldst find a friend ready to lend thee a helping hand, the moment, by his assistance, thou hast gained some little eminence, he will be the first to hurl thee down to thy primitive, and now, perhaps, irremediable obscurity. Yet I see no more reason for complaint on the ground of the fallacy of human friendship, than I do for any other ordonnance of nature, which may appear to run counter to our happiness. Man is naturally a selfish creature, and it is only by the aid of philosophy that he can so far conquer the defects of his being, as to be capable of disinterested friendship. Who, then, can expect to find that benign disposition, which manifests itself in acts of disinterested benevolence and spontaneous affection, a common visitor? Who can preach philosophy to the mob? The recluse, who does not easily assimilate with the herd of mankind, and whose manners with diffiNO culty bend to the peculiarities of others, is not likely to have many real friends. His enjoyments, therefore, must be solitary, lone, and melancholy. His only friend is himself. As he sits immersed in |