"the fide-boxes, or the roar of the upper gal

lery. There is no pit (as I remember the "pit); none of that mixture of good-breeding, "difcernment, taste, and feeling, which confti"tutes an audience, fuch as a first-rate per"former would wish to act his part to. For "the fimile of the theatre will still hold in this "further particular, that a man, to be perfectly "well-bred, must have a certain respect and va"lue for his audience, otherwife his exertions "will generally be either coarse or feeble: "though indeed a perfectly well-bred man will "feel that respect even for himself; and were he

in a room alone," faid Cauftic (taking an involuntary ftep or two, till he got oppofite to a mirror that hangs at the upper end of his parlour), "would blush to find himself in a mean "or ungraceful attitude, or to indulge a thought "grofs, illiberal, or ungentlemanlike.” “You "fmile," faid Mifs Cauftic to me; " but I "have often told my brother, that he is a very "Oroondates on that score; and your Edinburgh "people may be very well bred, without coming

up to his ftandard.” "Nay but," faid L "were I even to give Edinburgh up, it would "not affect my pofition. Edinburgh is but a (( copy of a larger metropolis; and in every сору, the defect I mentioned is apt to take "place; and of all qualities I know, this of

"fashion

"fashion and good breeding is the most delicate, "the most evanefcent, if I may be allowed fo "pedantic a phrafe. "Tis like the flavour of "certain liquors, which it is hardly poffible to

66

preferve in the removal of them." "Oh! now "I understand you,” said Caustic, smiling in his turn; "like Harrowgate-water, for example, "which I am told has fpirit at the fpring; but "when brought hither, I find it, under favour, to have nothing but stink and ill taste remaining." I

04

N° 34. SATURDAY, September 24, 1785.

THAT
HAT we often make the mifery, as well

as "the happiness we do not find,” is a truth which Moralifts have frequently remarked, and which can hardly be too often repeated. 'Tis one of thofe fpecific maxims which apply to every character and to every situation, and which therefore, in different modes of expreffion, almost every wife man has endeavoured to enforce and illuftrate. Without going fo far as the Stoics would have us, we may venture to affert, that there is fcarce any state of calamity in which a firm and a virtuous mind will not create to itself confolation and relief; nor any abfolute degree of profperity and fuccefs in which a naturally discontented spirit will not find caufe of disappointment and disguft.

But in fuch extremes of fituation it is the lot of few to be placed. Of the bulk of mankind the life is paffed amidst scenes of no very eventful fort, amidft ordinary engagements and ordinary cares. But of thefe, perhaps, ftill more than of the others, the good or evil is in a great measure regulated by the temper and difpofition of him to whom they fall out; like

metals

metals in coin, it is not alone their intrinfic nature, but also that impreffion which they receive from us, that creates their value. It must be material, therefore, in the art of happinefs, to poffefs the power of ftamping fatisfaction on the enjoyments which Providence has put into our hands.

I have been led into thefe reflections from meeting lately with two old acquaintances, from whom I had, by various accidents, been a long while feparated, but whofe difpofitions our early intimacy had perfectly unfolded to me, and the circumstances of whofe lives I have fince had occafion to learn.

When at school, Clitander was the pride of his parents and the boast of our master. There was no acquirement to which his genius was not equal; and though he was fometimes deficient in application, yet whenever he chofe he outfhone every competitor.

Eudocius was a lad of very inferior talents. He was frequently the object of Clitander's ridicule, but he bore it with an indifference that very foon difarmed his adversary; and his conftant obligingness and good-humour made all his clafs-fellows his friends.

Clitander was born the heir of a very large eftate, which coming to the poffeffion of at an early age, he fet out on his travels, and conti

05

nued

nued abroad for a confiderable number of years. In the accomplishments of the man, he was equally fuccefsful as he had been in the attainments of the boy, and attracted particular notice in the different places of his refidence on the continent, as a young man from whom the highest expectations might reasonably be formed. But it was remarked by fome intelligent obfervers, that he rather acquired than relished those accomplishments, and learned to judge more than to admire whatever was beautiful in nature, or excellent in art. At times he feemed, like other youthful poffeffors of ample fortunes, difpofed to enjoy the means of pleasure which his fituation enabled him to command. At other times, he talked with indifference or contempt both of thofe pleasures themselves, and of the companions with whom they had been shared. He remained longer abroad than is cuftomary, as his friends faid, to make himfelf master of whatever might be useful to his country or ornamental to himself; but in fact he remained where he was, as I have heard himfelf confefs, from an indifference about whither he should go; becaufe, as he frankly faid, he thought he fhould find the fame fools at Rome as at Paris, at Naples as at Rome. In going through Hungary, he vifited the quickfilver mines, where the miserable workmen, pent