nounce their intentions to quit the world, they still pretend, by a ridiculous contradiction, to extract the fruits of their enjoyment from the world.

Men who seek solitude on account of devotion, filling their imagination with the hopes of divine promises in another life, are much more rational. God is their object, infinite in goodness and in power, the soul has thus full liberty to satisfy its desires; and the deprivation is to them advantageous as an exchange for eternal health, and everlasting joy: death is to be longed for, where it is the passage to so perfect a condition. This hope, therefore, of another happy and immortal life, justifies the dereliction of the pleasures and conveniencies of this; and he who can conftantly inflame his foul with the ardour of this lively faith, creates in his solitude a delicious life, far superior to any earthly bliss.

But neither the end nor the means are attained by Cicero's advice; 'tis like quitting a lesser evil for a greater. This occupation of tudy is as painful as any other, and as great an

enemy

enemy to health, which should be a man's first consideration.

Books are pleasant; but if, by being over studious, we lose two of our best qualifications, cheerfulness and health, I for my part think nothing can compensate for their lofs. With regard to reading, I only like those books which, being easy and pleasant, tickle my fancy; or those which counsel me to regulate my life and death. We are to reserve so much employment, only as is necessary to exercise our breath, and preserve us from that ennui which the opposite extreme of idleness and inactivity never fails to produce.

Wiser men may figure to themselves a spiritual existence, having strong and vigorous minds; but for me who possess a very inferior one, I find it necessary to sustain myself with corporeal conveniences; and as age has deprived me of those pleasures which were most acceptable to me, I stimulate my appetite to those most suitable to my decline of life. We should retain, with our firmest grasp, the sew remaining pleasures which our years snatch away from us one after another. "Let us enjoy

the

the present time, for the days which remain to us are but few. We shall shortly be but as a grain of dust, as a fable, or a shade *."

The attachment of Pliny and Cicero to fame, is very contrary to my way of thinking. Ambition is, of all others, a moll unsuitable Companion in solitude. Glory and repose are so inconsistent, that they cannot possibly inhabit one and the fame place. These dreamers have only withdrawn their legs and arms from the crowd, while their attention is as much fixed there as ever; they only retreat in order to take a better leap, and, by a stronger effort, to throw themselves more into the middle of the throng.

Let us now put into the opposite scale the, advice of Seneca, a philosopher of a very different sect: writing to his friends, and advising them to retire from worldly honours and grandeur; "You have," he says, "hitherto lived swimming and floating, come now and die in the harbour; you have given the first part of your lives to the light, devote the remainder to the shade. It will be impossible for you to quit your occupations, unless you *Pers. Sat.

can

Re

can alfo bear to relinquish their fruits; for this reason disengage yourselves from all love of same. I am apprehensive, lest the lustre of your former actions may enlighten you too much, and follow you into your retreat. nounce, with all your other pleasures, even the gratification of the world's approbation; aid as to your knowledge and parts, do not concern yourselves on that account, they will not lose their effect, if you have yourselves reaped advantage from them. You should follow the example of beasts of prey, who efface the very track to the entrance of their dens. You are to concern yourselves no more about what the world says of you, but what you say of yourselves. Restrain and fix your souls within certain limits, and sully comprehending true and real blessings, which the more they are enjoyed, the better they will be understood, rest satisfied, without having a wish for the extent of your same, or the prolongation of your existence.

This is true and real philosophy, not that ostentatious and specious kind which Pliny and Cicero recommended,

ESSAY 29.

ON FRIENDSHIP.

I have endeavoured partly to imitate the plan of an artist, whom I employed to decorate my apartment; he chooses the center of a wall, or pannel of a wainscot, and paints a perfect and finished picture, which he surrounds with grotesque figures, without any other grace or merit than what they derive from their various and fantastic shapes. And what are these things that I produce but grotesque and mishapen ideas, without figure, order, coherence, or proportion." The body of a fish," as Horace observes, "with the head of a beautiful woman." As I cannot, like the painter, venture to undertake a finished picture according to the rules of art, I shall borrow one from Etienne de la Boëtie, which will honour and adorn all the rest of my work, namely, a discourse

• His friend.