sure, which I apprehend is often too severe, I would submit to the consideration of these more active citizens, a few remarks on the utility of their own occupations; and should this appear to be, in many cases, very equivocal, and, in general, to be much less than they have imagined, such a discovery may help to increase their candour towards those who prefer more retired situations. Utility has respect to an end, and implies means adapted to its attainment. The end may be good or evil. In the latter case, the term useful is predicated of the means with less propriety, as they can only merit this character, when, besides their lawfulness in themselves, they are directed to a good purpose. The chief and ultimate end of man, is to please God; and to please him, we must conform to his will; and his will is 'that we should be holy and happy. Virtue then, (according to the extensive mean 1 1 ing in which we take the word,) and vir- Having premised these principles, let us now endeavour to apply them in the case before us. It is evidently a great part of the business of the world, to provide food and clothing for the body; and, so far as this provision is needful, to supply the necessities and modest conveniencies of nature, and to mark that subordination which must subsist in every well regulated com 1 1 munity, neither reason nor religion re claim against it. Such, however, is the present corrupt state of mankind, that it is difficult to provide for their wants, and not to feed their luxuries, or to furnish them with the proper distinctions of the place which they hold in society, and not to minister at the same time to their vanity, And though the honest tradesman is not answerable for such abuses, he has reason to lament them as a blot and disparagement to his calling.' The like apology cannot be made for those whose business it is, at least in part, studiously to hold out temptations to such abuses, and to minister directly to pride and luxury. So far as any occupation is employed to gratify the appetites at the expence of health or innocence, or to adorn the body to the prejudice of feminine modesty, or of manly grace and dignity, it certainly cannot be numbered amongst those useful arts which are necessary to preserve the due gradations of 1 1 1. society, or which are warranted by a mo dest regard to personal comfort or convenience. To enumerate the employments which fall under the description here given, would be equally invidious and unnecessary. The same mixed character in human affairs, which often makes it doubtful whether the good or the evil predominates, is also discernible in occupations which relate more immediately to the intellectual part of our nature. As a specimen, let us take the business of a bookseller. It is far from my purpose to depreciate a calling which, on the whole, I believe has been of great use to the world; though, in the present state of literature, to conduct it with such circumspection as that the balance shall turn in favour of truth and virtue, is evidently a matter of no small difficulty. Among the numerous volumes which are now in ordinary circulation, there is a large proportion which deserves to be branded with infamy, many of them powerfully 1 tending to promote lewdness, dissipation, and public disorder, and many others no less subservient to the cause of infidelity and profaneness. The shelves of our libraries groan under loads of error and impiety, the incentives of vice, and the pleas of anarchy. When such is the demand for works, whose direct object is to sap the principles, and vitiate the manners, of the present age, and of posterity, it obviously requires no common degree of virtue and vigilance in a bookseller to preserve himself from being an instrument of public mischief. And the difficulty is still greater, when the evil (which frequently happens) is more covertly conveyed; when an artful writer, otherwise, perhaps, of undoubted merit, through the vehicle of history or fiction, or some pretended metaphysical disquisition, insinuates the same false and dangerous principles, which, for want of sufficient leisure or sagacity, may easily escape a man of business. And even among those writings which we ought to : |