makes them horribly dirty if they go abroad, and shockingly gloomy if they continue within doors. Men, manners, and things are equally blackened with overstrained epithets; one thing is hideously ugly, another is odiously stiff, a third is horribly hateful, and a fourth is dreadful, terrible, shocking, hideous, detestable, or abominable! This disposition arises frequently from an affectation of expressing discontentment with every thing, as if it were not equal to their own worth and expectations; or as if they had been accustomed to something better, or as if an ill temper were a sign of gentility; and thus, because they will go beyond the vulgar in their antipathies, they will use the most extravagant language. An eccentricity of this kind is sometimes accompanied by fainting, hysterics, and other objectionable practices, — all about nothing!

Some people are tolerably well pleased with the present, but they are anxious about the future. Dr. Jeremy Taylor has very reasonably said, "Enjoy the present, and be not solicitous for the future; for if you take your foot from the present standing, and thrust it forwards towards to-morrow's event, you are in a restless condition." Others are dissatisfied with present advantages, and can be supported only by future prospects; but this is throwing away the wheat for the sake of the chaff. If a man be not contented with what he now possesses, how will he be with what he may possess in future? Besides, he will not be animated to the performance of his necessary duties; he will not maintain a regular plodding, which his engage

ments for a maintenance may demand, when the imagination paints the future so attractively. For it is like the beaming of the sun upon the distant clouds, which may give to the beholder the reresemblance of splendid temples, of domes, colonnades, and magnificent entrances; but if the spectator were removed to the same situation, he would behold nothing but a dark and chilly vapour: so the man that despises the present, and looks for contentment in the future, will be continually liable to chagrin and disappointment.

We meet with people, sometimes, who seem to imagine that there is no merit in passing over little grievances, and treating them with indifference: they fancy it is better to think on them a little, to grieve about them, and then to cast them aside; because this will make the matter more heroic, and more worthy of the favour of Heaven:-in the same way as a person who is about to impart a favour looks over the amount of the sacrifice, and magnifies it, and shows the receiver how great it is, and how great is his obligation!

An unhealthy state of the body is frequently a cause of discontentment. When the nerves become disordered, a man is scarcely master of himself; but he should regulate his disposition while he is vigorous, and then the passions will not at any time be so liable to go astray. Nothing will compensate for the absence of health. enquires,

Thomson

"Ah! what avails the largest gifts of Heaven,
When drooping health and spirits go amiss ?"

Sometimes gloom and melancholy come upon a person from a disordered body and a discontented spirit, which, seeking for the greatest woe to prey upon, looks immediately to a future state, and calculates on everlasting perdition. Dr. Cheyne observes, "There is a kind of melancholy which is called religious, because it is connected with matters of religion, although often the people so distempered have little solid piety. It is merely a bodily disease, produced by an ill habit of constitution, wherein the nervous system is broken and disordered, and the juices become viscid and glewy. This melancholy arises generally from a disgust or disrelish of worldly amusements and creaturecomforts, whereupon the mind turns to religion for consolation and peace. But as the person is in a very imperfect and unmortified state, — not duly instructed and disciplined, and ignorant how to govern himself,- there ensue fluctuation and indocility, scrupulosity, horror, and despair." Let the corporeal part of man, then, as well as his mental disposition and his passions, be carefully governed, and if a person would fly from the greatest evil that Charybdis of human woe-let him avoid habitual dissatisfaction; let him avoid gloominess and sourness of spirit; for, as Milton says,

"He that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts,
Benighted walks under the mid-day sun;
Himself is his own dungeon."

It is generally found that a person who is dissatisfied with himself and his own possessions is not very pleasing to others. Henry IV. of France

used to say, "I cannot willingly employ a gloomy person, for a man that is ill-humoured to himself cannot be good-humoured to other persons.' Indeed, as a confirmation of this opinion, Regnier used to confess, that he never became dissatisfied with his fellow-creatures until he had become displeased with himself.

In order to produce a tranquil and contented spirit, let a man, when he draws a contrast between himself and others, direct his attention below his own condition rather than above it: let him place his own wealth by the side of his neighbour's poverty, or his own poverty by the side of abject wretchedness. Let him learn to value the blessings of life not so highly as to feel very unhappy at their possible or actual loss, nor to make himself very uneasy for an accumulation of wealth, honours, or power. Let him reflect, that he enjoys most probably more than he deserves, and that his life was only intended by the great Author of his being as an introduction to a more durable and happy state of existence; but let him begin to be contented now, not postpone it from year to year, and die without enjoying it. Contentment in expectation is not contentment; and if expectation continue there never will be contentment. When Pyrrhus recapitulated all his intended achievements to his counsellor Cyneas, the minister enquired, "And what then?"-" Why then," replied Pyrrhus, "I will rest myself contented."-" But, for God's sake," said Cyneas, "cannot you do so now ?"

CHAP. XIII.

ON HUMILITY AND PRIDE.

In civilised society, human beings confer and receive commendation, honour, and distinction, as a reward for the practice of virtue and the performance of actions which are beneficial to mankind; but the inclination for applause varies exceedingly in different persons. Some men anxiously court attention; they almost live for the purpose of being seen and admired: others retire from the public walks of life, and perform their duty for the purpose of satisfying their own consciences and pleasing the Deity. Those who expect too much regard from their fellow-creatures are proud: those who are most forward to exhibit and speak of their own good qualities, for the purpose of gratifying themselves, are vain and conceited: those who act well, and shun rather than seek the high opinion of mankind, are humble. Men of the latter class are generally liberal and charitable towards their fellow-creatures: this feeling is essential to the possession and practice of virtue. “No man,” observes Dr. Beattie, "is truly pious but he who is humble, distrustful of himself, anxious to do good to others, and willing to think of them as favourably as possible." Humility may be carried to an extreme; for instance, when a man declines the