The only things in which we can be said to have any property, are our actions. Our thoughts may be bad, yet produce no poison, they may be good, yet produce no fruit. Our riches may be taken from us by misfortune, our reputation by malice, our spirits by calamity, our health by disease, our friends by death. But our actions must follow us beyond the grave; with respect to them alone, we cannot say that we shall carry nothing with us when we die, neither that we shall go naked out of the world. Our actions must clothe us with an immortality, loathsome or glorious; these are the only title-deeds of which we cannot be disinherited; they will have their full weight in the balance of eternity, when every thing else is as nothing; and their value will be confirmed and established by those two sure and sateless destroyers of all other things, Time-and Death.

He that abuses his own profession, will not patiently bear with any one else that does so. And this is one of our most subtile operations of selflove. For when we abuse our own profession, we tacitly except ourselves; but when another abuses it, we are far from being certain that this is the

case.

There are minds so habituated to intrigue and mystery in themselves, and so prone to expect it from others, that they will never except of a plain reason for a plain fact, if it be possible to devise causes for it that are obscure, far fetched, and usually not worth the carriage. Like the miser of Berkshire, who would ruin a good horse to escape a turnpike, so these gentlemen ride their high-bred

theories to death, in order to come at truth, through by-paths, lanes, and alleys; while she herself is jogging quietly along upon the high and beaten road of common sense. The consequence is, that those who take this mode of arriving at truth, are sometimes before her, and sometimes behind her, but very seldom with her. Thus the great statesman who relates the conspiracy against Doria, pauses to deliberate upon, and minutely to scrutinize into divers and sundry errors committed, and opportunities neglected, whereby he would wish to account for the total failure of that spirited enterprise. But the plain fact was, that the scheme had been so well planned and digested, that it was victorious in every point of its operation, both on the sea and on the shore, in the harbour of Genoa, no less than in the city, until that most unlucky accident befell the Count de Fiesque, who was the very life and soul of the conspiracy. In stepping from one galley to another, the plank on which he stood, upset, and he fell into the sea. His armour happened to be very heavy-the night to be very dark-the water to be very deep-and the bottom to be very muddy. And it is another plain fact, that water in all such cases, happens to make no distinction whatever, between a conqueror and a cat.

In the tortuous and crooked policy of public affairs, as well as in the less extensive, but perhaps more intricate labyrinth of private concerns, there are two evils, which must continue to be as remediless as they are unfortunate; they have no cure, and their only palliatives are diffidence and time. They are these the most candid and enlightened must give their assent to a probable falsehood,

rather than to an improbable truth; and their esteem to those who have a reputation, in preference to those who only deserve it.

He that acts towards men, as if God saw him, and prays to God, as if men heard him, although he may not obtain all that he asks, or succeed in all that he undertakes, will most probably deserve to do so. For with respect to his actions to men, however much he may fail with regard to others, yet if pure and good, with regard to himself and his highest interests, they cannot fail; and with respect to his prayers to God, although they cannot make the Deity more willing to give, yet they will, and must, make the supplicant more worthy to receive.

We did not make the world, but we may mend it, and must live in it. We shall find that it abounds with fools, who are too dull to be employed, and knaves who are too sharp. The compound character is most common, and is that with which we Ishall have the most to do. As he that knows how to put proper words in proper places, evinces the truest knowledge of books, so he that knows how to put fit persons in fit stations, evinces the truest knowledge of men. It was observed of Elizabeth, that she was weak herself, but chose wise counsellors; to which it was replied, that to choose wise counsellors, was, in a prince, the highest wisdom.

If all seconds, were as averse to duels as their principals, very little blood would be shed in that way.

If we cannot exhibit a better life than an atheist, we must be very bad calculators, and if we cannot exhibit a better doctrine, we must be still worse reasoners. Shall we then burn a man because he chooses to say in his heart, there is no God? To say it in his head, is incompatible with a sound state of the cerebellum. But if all who wished there were no God, believed it too, we should have many atheists. He that has lived without a God, . would be very happy to die without one; and he that by his conduct has taken the word not out of the commandments, would most willingly insert it into the creed.-Thou shalt kill, and thou shalt commit adultery, would be very conveniently supported by, 'I do not believe in God.' But are we to burn a man for so absurd a doctrine? Yes, says the zealot, for fear of his making proselytes. That he will attempt to make proselytes I admit, even to a system so fatherless, so forlorn, and so gloomy and he will attempt it, on the same principle which causes little children to cry at night for a bedfellow, he is afraid of being left alone in the dark! But to grant that he will be successful in his attempts to convert others, would be to grant that he has some reason on his side; and we have yet to learn that reason can be consumed by fire, or overwhelmed by force. We will burn him then for the sake of example. But his example, like his doctrine, is so absurd, that let him alone, and none will follow it. But by burning him, you yourselves have set a most horrid example, which the innumerable champions of bigotry and of fanaticism have followed, and will follow, whenever and wherever they have power to do so. By burning an atheist, you have lent importance to that which

was absurd, interest to that which was forbidding, light to that which was the essence of darkness. For atheism is a system which can communicate neither warmth nor illumination, except from those fagots which your mistaken zeal has lighted up for

its destruction.

There are some who affect a want of affectation, and flatter themselves that they are above flattery"; they are proud of being thought extremely humble, and would go round the world to punish those who thought them capable of revenge; they are so satisfied with the suavity of their own temper, that they would quarrel with their dearest benefactor, only for doubting it. And yet so very blind are all their acquaintance to their numerous qualifications and merits, that the possessors of them invariably discover, when it is too late, they have lived in the world without a single friend, and are about to leave it without a single mourner.

They that are in power, should be extremely cautious to commit the execution of their plans, not only to those who are able, but to those who are willing; as servants and instruments it is their duty to do their best, but their employers are never so sure of them, as when their duty is also their pleasure. To commit the execution of a purpose to one who disapproves of the plan of it, is to employ but one third of the man; his heart and his head are against you, you have commanded only his hands.

It is far more safe to lower any pretensions that a woman may aspire to, on the score of her virtue