“ Διὸς δέ τοι ἄγελος εἰμι, τι Ὅς σεν, ἄνευθεν ἐὼν, μέγα κήδεται, ἠδ ̓ ἐλεαίρει· 66 I had made my stay at Horton as short as I could with propriety, being impatient to avail myself of every day that I could pass in the society of my family. With them I was happy; in their company I enjoyed those tranquil and delicious hours, which were endeared to me still more by the contrast of what I suffered when in absence from them. With all these sensations within me, these filial feelings and family attachment, I hardly need confess, that, however time and experience may have changed my taste or capacity for public life, certain it is that I was not then fitted for it, nor had any of those worldly qualities and accommodations in my nature, which are sure to push their possessors into notice, and form what may be called the very nidus of good fortune. A man, who is gifted with these lucky talents, is armed with hands, as a ship with grappling irons, ready to catch hold of, and make himself fast to every thing he comes in contact with; and such a man, with all these properties of adhesion, has also the property, like the Polipus, of a most miraculous and convenient indivisibility; cut off his hold, nay, cut him how you will, he is still a Polipus, whole and entire. Men of this sort shall work their way out of their obscurity like cockroaches out of the hold of a ship, and crawl into notice, nay, even into king's palaces, as the frogs did into Pharoah's: the happy faculty of noting times and seasons, and a lucky promptitude to avail themselves of moments with address and boldness, are alone such all-sufficient requisites, such marketable stores of worldly knowledge, that although the minds of those, who own them, shall be as to all the liberal sciences a rasa tabula, yet knowing these things needful to be known, let their difficulties and distresses be what they may, though the storm of adversity threatens to overwhelm them, they are in a life-boat, buoyed up by corks, and cannot sink. These are the stray children, turned loose upon the world, whom fortune in her charity takes charge of, and for whose guidance in the byeways and cross-roads of their pilgrimage she sets up fairy finger-posts, discoverable by them, whose eyes are near the ground, but unperceived by such, whose looks are raised above it. In a nation, like this, where all ranks and degrees are laid open to enterprize, merit or good fortune, it is fit, right and natural that sudden elevations should occur and be encou raged. It is a spur to industry, and incites to emulation and laudable ambition. Whilst it leads to these good consequences, it must also tend to others of a different sort. In all communities so constituted there will be a secret market for cunning, as well as a fair emporium for honesty, and a vast body of men, who can't support themselves without labour of some sort, and won't live by the labour of their hands, must contrive to live by their wits Honest men Are the soft easy cushions, on which knaves But there are more than these-Vain men will have their flatterers, rich men their followers, and powerful men their dependants. A great man in office is like a great whale in the ocean; there will be a sword-fish and a thresher, a Junius and a John Wilkes, ever in his wake and arming to attack him: These are the vext spirits of the deep, who trouble the waters, turning them up from the very bottom, that they may emerge from their mud, and float upon the surface of the billows in foam of their making. The abstract history of some of these gentry is curious-when they have made a wreck of their own reputation, they assault and tear in pieces the reputations of others; they defame man and blaspheme God; they are punished for their enormities; this makes them martyrs ; martyrdom makes them popular, they are crowned with praises, honours and emoluments, and they leave the world in admiration of their talents, before they have tasted the contempt which they deserve. But whilst these men may be said to fight their way into consequence, and so long as they can but live in notice are content to live in trouble, there is a vast majority of easy, unambitious, courteous humble servants, whose unoffending vanity aspires no higher than like Samson's bees to make honey in the bowels of a lion, and fatten on the offal of a rich man's superfluities. They ask no more of fortune than to float, like the horse dung with the apples, and enjoy the credit of good company as they travel down the smooth and easy stream of life. For these there is a vast demand, and their talents are as various as the uses they are put to. Every great, rich and consequential man, who has not the wisdom to hold his tongue, must enjoy his privilege of talking, and there must be dull fellows to listen to him; again, if, by talking about what he does not understand, he gets into embarrassments, there must be clever fellows to help him out of them: when he would be merry, there must be witty rogues to make him laugh; when he would be sorrowful, there must be sad rogues to sigh and groan and make long faces: as a great man must be never in the wrong, there must be hardy rascals, who will swear he is always in the right; as he must never show fear, of course he must never see danger; and as his courage must at no time sink, there must be friends at all times ready to prevent its being tried. A great man is entitled to his relaxations; he, who labours for the public, must recreate his spirit with his private friends: then it is |