tial nature of the foul of man. We have no reason to believe that other creatures have higher faculties, or more extensive capacities, than the prefervation of themfelves, or their fpecies, requires; they fcem always to be fully employed, or to be completely at eafe without employment, to feel few intellectual miferies or pleafures, and to have no exuberance of understanding to lay out upon curiofity or caprice, but to have their minds exactly adapted to their bodies, with few other ideas than fuch as corporal pain or plea fure imprefs upon them.

Of memory, which makes fo large a part of the excellence of the human foul, and which has fo much influence upon all it's other powers, but a finall portion has been alloted to the animal world. We do not find the grief with which the dams lament the lofs of their young, proportionate to the tenderness with which they carefs, the affiduity with which they feed, or the vehemence with which they defend them. Their regard for their offfpring, when it is before their eyes, is not, in appearance, lefs than that of a human parent; but when it is taken away, it is very foon forgotten, and after a fhort abfence, if brought again, wholly difregarded.

That they have very little remembrance of any thing once out of the reach of their fenfes, and fcarce any power of comparing the prefent with the paft, and regulating their conclufions from experience, may be gathered from this, that their intellects are produced in their full perfection. The fparrow that was hatched laft fpring makes her firft neft, the enfuing feafon, of the fame materials, and with the fame art, as in any following year; and the hen conducts and shelters her firft brood of chickens with all the prudence that the ever attains.

It has been asked by men who love to perplex any thing that is plain to common understandings, how reafon differs from inftinet; and Prior has with no great propriety made Solomon himself declare, that, to diftinguish them is the fool's ignorance, and the pedant's pride. To give an accurate anfwer to a question of which the terms are not completely understood, is impoffible; we do not know in what either reafon or inftin&t confift, and therefore cannot tell with exactnefs how they differ: but furely he that contemplates a fhip and a bird's neft will not be long without finding out, that the idea of the

one was inpreffed at once, and continued through all the progreffive defcents of the fpecies, without variation or improvement; and that the other is the result of experiments compared with experiments, has grown, by accumulated obfervation, from lefs to greater excellence, and exhibits the collective knowledge of different ages and various profeffions.

Memory is the purveyor of reason, the power which places thofe images before the mind upon which the judgment is to be exercifed, and which treasures up the determinations that are once paffed, as the rules of future action, or grounds of fubfequent conclufions.

It is, indeed, the faculty of remembrance, which may be faid to place us in the clafs of moral agents. If we were to act only in confequence of foine immediate impulfe, and receive no direction from internal motives of choice, we should be pushed forward by an invincible fatality, without power or reafon for the moft part to prefer one thing to another; becaufe we could make no comparison but of objects which might both happen to be present.

We owe to memory not only the increafe of our knowledge, and our progrefs in rational enquiries, but many other intellectual pleafures. Indeed, almoft all that we can be faid to enjoy is paft or future; the present is in perpetual motion, leaves us as foon as it arrives, ccafes to be prefent before it's prefence is well perceived, and is only known to have existed by the effects which it leaves behind. The greatest part of our ideas arifes, therefore, from the view before or behind us; and we are happy or miferable, according as we are affected by the furvey of our life, or our profpect of future existence.

With regard to futurity, when events are at fuch a distance from us, that we cannot take the whole concatenation into our view, we have generally power enough over our imagination to turn it upon pleafing fcenes, and can promise ourselves riches, honours, and delights, without intermingling thofe vexations and anxieties with which all human enjoyments are polluted. If fear breaks in on one fide, and alarms us with dangers and difappointments, we can call in hope on the other, to folace us with rewards, and efcapes, and victories; fo that we are feldom without means of palliating remote evils, and can generally footh our

felves to tranquillity, whenever any troublefome prefage happens to attack us.

It is, therefore, I believe, much more common for the folitary and thoughtful to amuse themselves with schemes of the future, than reviews of the paft. For the future is pliant and ductile, and will be eafily moulded by a strong fancy into any form. But the images which memory prefents are of a ftubborn and untractable nature; the objects of remembrance have already existed, and left their fignature behind them impreffed upon the mind, fo as to defy all attempts of rafure or of change.

As the fatisfactions, therefore, arifing from memory are lefs arbitrary, they are more folid; and are, indeed, the only joys which we can call our own. Whatever we have once repofited, as Dryden expreffes it, in the facred treasure of the paft, is out of the reach of accident, or violence, nor can be loft either by our own weakness, or another's malice:

There is certainly no greater happinefs than to be able to look back on a life ufefully and virtuoufly employed, to trace our own progrefs in existence, by fuch tokens as excite neither shame nor forrow. Life, in which nothing has been done or fuffered to diftinguish one day from another, is to him that has paffed it, as if it had never been, except that he is confcious how ill he has husbanded the great depofit of his Creator. Life, made memorable by crimes, and diverfified through it's feveral periods by wickedness, is indeed easily reviewed, but reviewed only with horror and remorfe.

The great confideration which ought to influence us in the use of the prefent moment, is to arife from the effect, which,

as well or ill applied, it must have upon the time to come; for though it's actual existence be inconceivably fhort, yet it's effects are unlimited; and there is not the smallest point of time but may extend it's confequences, either to our hurt or our advantage, through all eternity, and give us reafon to remember it for ever, with anguish or exultation.

The time of life in which memory feems particularly to claim predominance over the other faculties of the mind, is our declining age. It has been remarked by former writers, that old men are generally narrative, and fall eafily into recitals of paft tranfactions, and accounts of perfons known to them in their youth. When we approach the verge of the grave, it is more eminently true

Vita fumma brevis fpem nos vetat inchoare longam.

Life's fpan forbids thee to extend thy cares,
And ftretch thy hopes beyond thy years.

CREECH!

We have no longer any poffibility of great viciffitudes in our favour; the changes which are to happen in the world will come too late for our accommodation; andthofe who have no hope before them, and to whom their present state is painfulandirkfome, muft of neceffity turn their thoughts back to try what retrofpect will afford. It ought, therefore, to be the care of those who wish to pass the last hours with comfort, to lay up fuch a treasure of pleafing ideas, as fhall fupport the expences of that time, which is to depend wholly upon the fund already acquired.

Petite bine, juvenefque fenefque Finem animo certum, miferifque viatica canis. Seek here, ye young, the anchor of your mind; Here, fuff'ring age, a blefs'd provifion find.

ELPHINSTON.

TO THE RAMBLER,

MR. RAMBLER,

IA

AM no great admirer of grave writings, and therefore very frequently lay your papers alide before I have read them through; yet I cannot but confefs that, by flow degrees, you have raised my opinion of your understanding, and that, though I believe it will be long before I can be prevailed upon to regard you with much kindness, you have, however, more of my efteem than thofe whom I fometimes make happy with opportunities to fill my tea-pot, or pick up my fan. I fhall therefore chufe you for the confident of my diftreffes, and afk your counsel with regard to the means of conquering or escaping them, though I never expect from you any of that foftnefs and pliancy, which conftitutes the perfection of a companion for the ladies: as, in the place where I now am, I have recourfe to the mastiff for protection, though I have no intention of making him a lap-dog.

My mamma is a very fine lady, who has more numerous and more frequent affemblies at her houfe than any other perfon in the fame quarter of the town. I was bred from my earliest infancy in a perpetual tumult of pleasure, and remember to have heard of little elfe than meflages, vifits, play-houses, and balls; of the aukwardness of one woman, and the coquetry of another; the charming convenience of fome rising fashion, the difficulty of playing a new game, the incidents of a mafquerade, and the dreffes of a court-night. I knew before I was ten years old all the rules of paying and receiving vifits, and to how much civility every one of my acquaintance was entitled; and was able to return, with the proper degree of referve or of vivacity, the stated and established answer to every compliment; fo that I was very foon celebrated as a wit and a beauty, and had heard before I was thirteen all that is ever said to a young lady. My

HOR

ELPHINSTON.

mother was generous to fo uncommon a degree as to be pleased with my advance into life, and allowed me, without envy or reproof, to enjoy the fame happines with herfelf; though most women about her own age were very angry to fee young girls fo forward, and many fine gentle

men told her how cruel it was to throw new chains upon mankind, and to tyrannize over them at the fame time with her own charms and those of her daughter.

I have now lived two and twenty years, and have paffed of each year nine months in town, and three at Richmond; fo that my time has been spent uniformly in the fame company, and the fame amufements, except as fashion has introduced new diverfions, or the revolutions of the gay world have afforded new fucceffions of wits and beaus. However, my mother is fo good an economift of pleasure, that I have no spare hours upon my hands; for every morning brings fome new appointment, and every night is hurried away by the necesfity of making our appearance at different places, and of being with one lady at the opera, and with another at the card-table.

As

When the time came of fettling our fcheme of felicity for the fummer, it was determined that I fhould pay a vifit to a rich aunt in a remote county. you know the chief converfation of all tea-tables, in the fpring, arifes from a communication of the manner in which time is to be paffed till winter, it was a great relief to the barrennefs of our topicks, to relate the pleasures that were in itore for me, to defcribe my uncle's feat, with the park and gardens, the charming walks, and beautiful waterfalls; and every one told me how much the envied me, and what fatisfaction fhe had once enjoyed in a fituation of the fame kind.

As we are all credulous in our own favour, and willing to imagine fome latent fatisfaction in any thing which we have not experienced, I will confefs to

you

you, without reftraint, that I had fuffered my head to be filled with expectations of fome nameless pleafure in a rural life, and that I hoped for the happy hour that should fet me free from noife, and flutter, and ceremony, difmifs me to the peaceful fhade, and lull me in content and tranquillity. To folace myself under the mifery of delay, I fometimes heard a ftudious lady of my acquaintance read paftorals. I was delighted with fcarce any talk but of leaving the town, and never went to bed without dreaming of groves, and meadows, and frifking lambs.

At length I had all my clothes in a trunk, and faw the coach at the door; I fprung in with ecstacy, quarrelled with my maid for being too long in taking leave of the other fervants, and rejoiced as the ground grew lefs which lay between me and the completion of my wifhes. A few days brought me to a large old houfe, encompaffed on three fides with woody hills, and looking from the front on a gentle river, the fight of which renewed all my expectations of pleasure, and gave me fome regret for having lived fo long without the enjoyment which thefe delightful fcenes were now to afford me. My aunt came out to receive me, but in a dress so far removed from the present fashion, that I could scarcely look upon her without laughter, which would have been no kind requital for the trouble he had taken to make herself fine against my arrival. The night and the next morning were driven along with enquiries about our family; my aunt then explained our pedigree, and told me ftories of my great-grandfather's bravery in the civil wars, nor was it lefs than three days before I could perfuade her to leave me to myself.

At laft economy prevailed; fhe went in the ufual manner about her own affairs, and I was at liberty to range in the wilderness, and fit by the cafcade. The novelty of the objects about me pleafed me for a while, but after a few days they were new no longer, and I foon began to perceive that the country was not my element; that shades and flowers, and lawns and waters, had very foon exhanted all their power of pleafing, and that I had not in myself any fund of fatisfaction with which I could fupply the lofs of my customary amusements.

I unhappily told my aunt, in the first

warmth of our embraces, that I had leave to stay with her ten weeks. Six only are yet gone; and how fhall I live through the remaining four? I go out and return; I pluck a flower, and throw it away; I catch an infect, and when I have examined it's colours, fet it at liberty; I fling a pebble into the water, and ' fee one circle fpread after another. When it chances to rain, I walk in the great hall, and watch the minute-hand upon the dial, or play with a litter of kittens, which the cat happens to have brought in a lucky time.

My aunt is afraid I fhall grow melancholy; and therefore encourages the neighbouring gentry to vifit us. They came at first with great eagerness to fee the fine lady from London; but when we met, we had no common topick on which we could converfe; they had no curiofity after plays, operas, or mufick; and I find as little fatisfaction from their accounts of the quarrels or alliances of families, whofe names, when once I can efcape, I fhall never hear. The women have now feen me; know how my gown is made, and are fatisfied; the men are generally afraid of me, and fay little, because they think themselves not at liberty to talk rudely.

Thus am I condemned to folitude; the day moves flowly forward, and I fee the dawn with uneafinefs, because I confider that night is at a great distance. I have tried to fleep by a brook, but finds it's murmurs ineffectual; so that I am forced to be awake at least twelve hours, without vifits, without cards, without laughter, and without flattery. I walk because I am difgufted with fitting ftill, and fit down because I am weary with walking. I have no motive to action, nor any object of love, or hate, or fear, or inclination. I cannot drefs with fpirit, for I have neither rival nor admirer. I cannot dance without a partner; nor be kind, or cruel, without a lover.

Such is the life of Euphelia, and fuch it is likely to continue for a month to come. I have not yet declared against existence, nor called upon the deftinies to cut my thread; but I have fincerely refolved not to condemn myself to fuch another fummer, nor too hastily to flatter myself with happinefs. Yet I have. heard, Mr. Rambler, of those who never thought themfelves fo much at cafe

as in folitude; and cannot but fufpect it to be fome way or other my own fault, that, without great pain, either of mind or body, I am thus weary of myself: that the current of youth ftagnates, and that I am languifhing in a dead calm, for want of fome external impulfe. I fhall therefore think you a benefactor to our fex, if you will teach me the art of

living alone; for I am confident that a thoufand and a thousand and a thousand ladies, who affect to talk with ecftacies of the pleafures of the country, are in reality, like me, longing for the winter, and wifhing to be delivered from themfelves by company and diverfion. Iam, Sir, Yours,

EUPHELIA

T is obferved by those who have writbody, and the original of thofe difeafes by which it is afflicted, that every man comes into the world morbid, that there is no temperature fo exactly regulated but that fome humour is fatally predominant, and that we are generally impregnated, in our firft entrance upon life, with the feeds of that malady, which, in time, shall bring us to the grave.

This remark has been extended by others to the intellectual faculties. Some that imagine themfelves to have looked with more than common penetration into human nature, have endeavoured to perfuade us that each man is born with a mind formed peculiar for certain purpofes, and with defires unalterably determined to particular objects, from which the attention cannot be long diverted, and which alone, as they are well or ill pursued, muft produce the praife or blame, the happiness or misery, of his

future life.

This pofition has not, indeed, been hitherto proved with ftrength proportionate to the affurance with which it has been advanced, and, perhaps, will never gain much prevalence by a clofe exami

nation.

OVID.

F. LEWIS.

fpect to the things about us, fo as to lay us open to new affaults and particular dangers, and fubjects us to inconveniences from which any other fituation is exempt; as a publick or a private life, youth and age, wealth and poverty, have all fome evil closely adherent, which cannot wholly be efcaped but by quitting the state to which it is annexed, and submitting to the incumbrances of fome other condition; fo it cannot be denied that every difference in the structure of the mind has it's advantages and it's wants; and that failures and defects being infeparable from humanity, however the powers of understanding be extended or contracted, there will on one fide or the other always be an avenue to error and miscarriage.

There feem to be fome fouls fuited to great, and others to little employments; fome formed to foar aloft, and take in wide views, and others to grovel on the ground, and confine their regard to a narrow fphere. Of thefe the one is always in danger of becoming ufelefs by a daring negligence, the other by a fcrupulous folicitude; the one collects many ideas, but confufed and indiftinct; the other is bufied in minute accuracy, but without compafs and without dignity.

The general error of those who poffefs powerful and elevated understandings, is, that they form fchemes of too great extent, and flatter themfelves too haftily with fuccefs; they feel their own force to be great, and, by the complacency with which every man furveys himfelf, imagine it fill greater: they therefore look out for undertakings worthy of their abilities, and engage in them

with