light as to be shunned be every boy in the school.*

And now I have gone thus far, perhaps you will think me some pedagogue, willing by a well-timed puff to increase the reputation of his own school; but such is not the case. The regard I have for society, for those tender minds who are the objects of the present essay, is the only motive I have for offering those thoughts, calculated not to surprise by their novelty, or the elegance of composition, but merely to remedy some defects which have crept into the present system of school education. If this letter should be inserted, perhaps I may trouble you in my next with some thoughts upon an university education, not with an intent to exhaust the subject, but to amend some few abuses. I am, &c.

*This dissertation was thus far introduced into the volume of Essays, afterwards published by Dr. Goldsmith, with the follow. ing observation :

This treatise was published before Rousseau's Emilius: if there be a similitude in any one instance, it is hoped the author of the present Essay will not be termed a plagiarist.

upon

ON THE INSTABILITY

OF WORLDLY GRANDEUR.

AN alehouse-keeper near Islington, who had long lived at the sign of the French king, the commencement of the last war with France, pulled down his old sign, and put up the queen of Hungary. Under the influence of her red face and golden scep-. tre, he continued to sell ale till she was no longer the favourite of his customers; he changed her therefore some time ago for the king of Prussia, who may probably be changed in turn for the next great man that should be set up for vulgar admiration.

Our publican in this imitates the great exactly, who deal out their figures one after the other to the gazing crowd beneath them. When we have sufficiently wondered at one, that is taken in, and another exhibited in its room, which seldom holds its station long; for the mob are ever pleased with variety.

I must own I have such an indifferent opinion of the vulgar, that I am ever led to suspect that merit which raises their shout; at least I am certain to find those great and sometimes good men, who find satisfaction

in such acclamations, made worse by it; and history has too frequently taught me, that the head which has grown this day giddy with the roar of the million, has the very next been fixed upon a pole.

As Alexander VI. was entering a little town in the neighbourhood of Rome, which had been just evacuated by the enemy, he perceived the townsmen busy in the marketplace in pulling down from a gibbet a figure, which had been designed to represent himself.

There were also some knocking down a neighbouring statue of one of the Orsini family, with whom he was at war, in order to put Alexander's effigy, when taken down, in its place. It is possible a man

who knew less of the world would have condemned the adulation of those barefaced flatterers: but Alexander seemed pleased at their zeal, and, turning to Borgia his son, said with a smile, "Vides, mi fili, quam leve discrimen patibulum inter et statuam:” “You see, my son, the small difference between a gibbet and a statue." If the great could be taught any lesson, this might serve to teach them upon how weak a foundation their glory stands, which is built upon popular applause; for, as such praise what seems like merit, they as quickly condemn what has only the appearance of guilt.

Popular glory is a perfect coquet; her lovers must toil, feel every inquietude, indulge every caprice, and perhaps at last be jilted into the bargain. True glory, on the other hand, resembles a woman of sense; her admirers must play no tricks; they feel no great anxiety, for they are sure in the end of being rewarded in proportion to their meWhen Swift used to appear in public, he generally had the mob shouting in his train. "Pox take these fools," he would say, "how much joy might all this bawling give my lord mayor!"

rit.

We have seen those virtues, which have while living retired from the public eye, generally transmitted to posterity, as the truest objects of admiration and praise. Perhaps the character of the late duke of Marlborough may one day be set up, even above that of his more talked of predecessor; since an assemblage of all the mild and amiable virtues is far superior to those vulgarly called the great ones. I must be pardoned for this short tribute to the memory of a man, who while living would as much detest to receive any thing that wore the appearance of flattery, as I should to offer it.

I know not how to turn so trite a subject out of the beaten road of common place,

except by illustrating it, rather by the assistance of my memory than my judgment, and instead of making reflections, by telling a story.

A Chinese, who long had studied the works of Confucius, who knew the characters of fourteen thousand words, and could read a great part of every book that came in his way, once took it into his head to tra. vel into Europe, and observe the customs of a people whom he thought not very much inferior even to his own countrymen, in the arts of refining upon every pleasure. Upon his arrival at Amsterdam his passion for letters naturally led him to a bookseller's shop; and, as he could speak a little Dutch, he civilly asked the bookseller. for the works of the immortal Ilixofou. The bookseller assured him, he had never heard the book mentioned before. "What! have you never heard of that immortal poet," returned the other, much surprised, "that light of the eyes, that favourite of kings, that rose of perfection? I suppose you know nothing of the immortal Fipsihihi, second cousin to the moon?" "Nothing at all, indeed, sir," returned the other. "Alas!" cries our traveller, "to what purpose then