I lest him, and attempted another, whofe softness of mien, and easy movement, gave me reason to hope for a more agreeable reception: but he told me, with a low bow, that nothing would make him more happy than an opportunity of serving me, which he could not now want, for a place which he had been twenty years soliciting would be soon vacant. From him I had recourse to the next, who was departing in haste to take possession of the estate of an uncle, who by thr course of nature could not live long. He that followed was preparing to dive for treasure in a new-invented bell; and another was on the point of discovering the longitude.

Being thus rejected wheresoever I applied myself for insormation, I began to imagine it best to desist from enquiry, and try what my own observation would discover'. but seeing a young man, gay and thoughtless, I resolved upon one more experiment, and was insormed that I was in the garden of Hope, the daughter of Desire, and that all thofe whom I saw thus tumultuousiy bustling round me, were incited by the promises of Hoi'E, and hastening to seize the gifts which she held in her hand.

I turned my sight upward, and saw a goddess in the bloom of youth, fitting on a throne: around her lay all the sifts of fortune, and all the blessings os lise were spread abroad to view; she had a perpetual gaiety of aspect, and every one imagined that her smile, which was impartial and general, was directed to himself, and triumphed in his own superiority to others, who had conceived the same confidence from the fame mistake.

I thea

I then mounted an eminence, from which 1 had a more extensive view of the whole place, and could with less perplexity consider the disferent conduct of the crowds that silled it. From this station I ob«. served, that the entrance into the garden of Hope was by two gates, one of which was kept by Reason, and the other by Fancy. Reason was surly and scrupulous, and seldom turned the key without many interrogatories, and long hesitation; but Fancy was a kind and gentle portress, she held her gate wide open, and welcomed all equally to the district under her superintendency; so that the passage was crowded by all thofe who either seared the examination of Reason, or had been rejected by her.

From the gate of Reason there was a way to the throne of Hope, by a craggy, flippery, and winding path, called the Streigbt os Difficulty, which thofe who entered with the permission of the guard endeavoured to climb. But though they surveyed the way very cheersully besore they began to rise, and marked out the several stages of their progress, they commonly found unexpected obstacles, and were obliged frequently to stop on the sudden, where they imagined the way plain and even. A thoufand intricacies embarrassed them, a thoufand flips threw them back, and a thoufand pitsals impeded their advance. So formidable were the dangers, and so frequent the miscarriages, that many returned from the first attempt, and many fainted in the midst of the way, and only a very small number were led up to the summit of Hope, by the hand of Fortitude. Of these sew the greater part, when they had obtained the gist which Hope had promised them, regretted gretted the labour which it cost, and selt in their success the regret of disappointment; the rest retired with their prize, and were led by Wisdom to the bowers of Content.

Turning then towards the gate of Fancy, I could find no way to the seat of Hope; but though she sat full in view, and held out her gifts with an air of invitation, which filled every heart with rapture, the mountain was, on that fide, inaccessibly steep, but so channelled and shaded, that none perceived the impossibility of ascending it, but each imagined himself to have discovered a way to which the rest were strangers. Many expedients were indeed tried by this industrious tribe, of whom some were making themselves wings, which others were contriving to actuate by the perpetual motion. But with all their labour, and all their artifices, they never rofe above the ground, or quickly sell back, nor ever approached the throne of Hope, but continued still to gaze at a distance, and laughed at the flow progress of thofe whom they saw toiling in the Streight of Dif' Jiculty.

Part of the savourites of Fancy, when they had entered the garden, without making, like the rest, an attempt to climb the mountain, turned immediately to the vale of Idleness, a calm and undisturbed retirement, from whence they could always have Hope in prospect, and to which they pleased themselves with believing that she intended speedily to descend. These were indeed scorned by all the rest; but they seemed very little afsected by contempt, advice, or reproof, but were resolved to expect at ease the savour of the goddess.

Among

Among this gay race I was wandering, and found them ready to answer all my questions, and willing to communicate their mirth: but turning round, I saw two dreadsul monsters entering the vale, one of whom I knew to be Ace, and the other Want. Sport and revelling were now at an end, and an univerfal shriek of asfright and distress burst out and awaked me.

Numb. 68. Saturday, November 10, 1753.

Vivendum refit, cum proffer plurima, tune hit

Prrrcipue caufes, ut linguas mancipiorum

Centemnas; nam lingua mali pan pejpma servi. JuT.

Let us live well: were it alone for this

The banesul tongues of servants to despise:

Slander, that worst of poisons, ever finds

An easy entrance to ignoble minds. Hervsy.

TH E younger Pliny has very justly observed, that of actions that deserve our attention, the most splendid are not always the greatest. Fame, and wonder, and applause, are not excited but by external and adventitious circumstances, often distinct and separate from virtue and heroism. Eminence of station, greatness of efsect, and all the favours of fortune, must concur to place excellence in publick view; but fortitude, diligence, and patience, divested of their show, glide unobserved through the crowd of lise, and sufser and act, though with the

same

same vigour and constancy, yet without pity and without praise.

This remark may be extended to all parts os life. Nothing is to be estimated by its efsect upon common eyes and common ears. A thousand miseries make silent and invisible inroads on mankind, and the heart seels innumerable throbs, which never break into complaint. Perhaps, likewise, our pleasures are for the most part equally secret, and most are borne up by some private satissaction, some internal consciousness, sonic latent hope, some peculiar prospect, which they never communicate, but reserve sor solitary hours, and Clandestine meditation.

The main of life is, indeed, composed os small incidents, and petty occurrences; of wishes for objects not remote, and grief for disappointments os no satal consequence; or insect vexations which sting us and fly away, impertinencies which buzz a while about us, and are heard no more; of mceorous pleasures which dance before us and are dissipated; ot compliments which glide off the foul like other musick, and are forgotten by him that gave and him that received them.

Such is the general heap out of which every man js to cull his own condition: for, as the chemists tell us, that all bodies are resolvable into the same elements, and that the boundless variety of things arises from the disferent proportions of very sew ingredients; so a sew pains and a sew pleasures are all the materials of human .lise, and of these the proportions are partly allotted by providence and partly left to the arrangement of reason and of choice.