No stronger proof can be adduced of an idle and disorderly mind, than an indulgence in vain curiosity; nor is any propensity of the human mind more calculated to alienate friends, imbitter enemies, and sow dissension and ill-will among mankind. No man likes to have his private affairs unnecessarily pried into, and, indeed, it is highly improper for any one to make the attempt. Every person has, or ought to have, enough to do, in the management of his own concerns; and it may be safely concluded, that, if he busies himself about another man's, his own will be neglected. Those who thrive most in the world are such as give their minds fully to their own business, and find no time for undue animadversions on another man's proceedings.

Independently of the discredit which too much inquisitiveness into another man's concerns throws upon those who are guilty of it, the circumstance that it cannot but give pain, and awaken resentment in those whose feelings are injured, should check the first impulses to such unwarrantable indulgences, and teach the curious to thwart their inclinations, both on their own account, and on that of others; for if a man feel himself aggrieved, either by dictation or animadversion, he is apt to retaliate the injury, and it generally happens that the assailant is the more vulnerable of the two, and that his affairs, in consequence of his unhappy propensity, are found to be in a state of greater confusion.

Amicable feelings cannot be long sustained between parties, when the object of either is to usurp authority over the other; or, which is much the same thing, when either is ever and anon displaying a disposition to encroach upon the other's personal liberties or domestic privacies, with a view to give unwelcome advice, or confer impertinent counsel. A feeling of jealousy and dislike naturally takes possession of the minds of those who are unworthily treated, and they consequently, with great reason, renounce the society of their too busy companions.

Different feelings, however, operate on the minds of the man of God, and of the man of the world, under such unfortunate dilemmas. While the former treats, with a becoming spirit, unaccompanied by revenge, the ambiguous designs of his nominal friend; the latter, not only breaks off the connexion, but evinces a desire to return the injury. The language of scripture is decisive on this point. We are commanded not to return evil for evil, but, contrariwise, good. The line of duty is, therefore, plain, simple, and imperative; and hence, though we may, with the utmost propriety, decline farther familiar intercourse with those who have abused our confidence, we are strictly forbidden to shew an implacable spirit, or to visit on the heads of the delinquents the evil consequences of their imprudent and culpable conduct. The well-disposed man feels a desire rather to reclaim than to irritate an opponent, no matter whether in the form of a disguised friend, or an avowed enemy; and, though he may not trust him with his secrets, or admit him to social intercourse, he dismisses from his mind all animosity against him, and very sincerely longs for his reformation.

It may be here observed, that few friendships are formed, which are totally exempt from jealousy or intrusion; and the reason is obvious, they are seldom formed and cemented by gospel precepts. Into the natural mind, unillumined by the light of God's word, the spirit of discord finds too ready an ingress; and when the obligations of duty are not mutually felt, encroachments will he made, calculated to produce bitter recriminations and dissensions.

such

The disturbance of the peace of society is not the only effect of curiosity, when it becomes a passion of the mind: the peace of every one who indulges in it is unsettled: and the over-curious are led from objects as might conduce to their own welfare and tranquillity. The human mind is an active principle, which will ever be employed; and if the objects of its pursuits be not praise-worthy, they will be detrimental alike to individuals and to society; for every one, whose attention is not directed to such things as peculiarly belong to his own sphere of action, may be commonly found giving advice where it is not wanted, and hazarding opinions regarding the conduct of others, who are, as they may easily be, in every respect, his superiors both in activity, regularity, and prudence. It is incompatible with reason, and manifestly absurd, for a man to find fault with others about the neglect of duties,

of which he himself is notoriously guilty: and yet this is precisely the character of all who are more bent upon blaming others than reforming themselves; in a word, of all who pry into their neighbours' affairs, and neglect their own.

We may conclude, when we see men busying themselves about things which do not concern them, that they have ulterior objects in view, and that the pleasures they derive from searching into, and passing judgment on, the motives of others, and decrying the works of their hands, do not arise from a desire to conceal the information they surreptitiously obtain, but from the wicked intention of publishing it to the world, with most provoking and aggravating additions and distortions, fabricated for the purpose of destroying the reputations of those who are held in higher estimation than themselves, as well as of gratifying their own corrupt and depraved hearts. Every inquiry they make, every look, indicates a heart pregnant with ill designs. The good which others do, is intentionally overlooked, if, indeed, a prejudicial construction be not attempted to be placed upon it; whilst every false step is carefully noted, and infinite pains taken to give to every error the most forbidding aspect. Nay, so evil-disposed, and so thoroughly lost to all sense of shame and decorum, so utterly reckless of their own characters, and regardless of those of others, are the wholsesale dealers in detraction and defamation, that, when the most dili. gent inquiries fail to furnish a tale to the prejudice of their neighbours, they will have the unhesitating and unblushing effrontery to propagate the figments of their own brains, the suggestions of their imaginations, in order to spread ruin and dismay through their respective neighbour hoods.

An evil report, either wholly without foundation, or at best with a very slight relation to fact, augments rapidly as it gains circulation, and is soon made to consign, in too many instances, to obloquy and reproach the fair fame of one who ought to have received better treatment, and who is exposed, merely because of his respectability, to the shafts of malice, and to the inventive and deadly machinations of an inveterate foe. To account for the motives by which a man is actuated, who can, clandestinely or openly, proceed to take away the character, and blast the prospects, of a fellow-mortal who has never injured him, might appear a difficult task, did we not know that the corruptions of human nature are such, that too many are

unable to look up to those who hold higher or more honourable situations than themselves, even though their conduct may make them worthy of those situations, without feeling an envious spirit-a spirit which is easily made to go all lengths, in order to attain its unhallowed object. For this reason, among many others, the man who is brought prominently forward on the stage of life, should be unceasingly wary and circumspect in all his ways, that the devices of the busy-body, whose inquiries go to rake up flaws in his character, that he may disseminate them to his disadvantage, may fail in their object, and that the reputable part of mankind may see into his intentions, and expose their turpitude.

To blast the prospects of the fortunate, to curtail the usefulness of the industrious, to injure the circumstances of the respect. able, is too often the aim of the inquisitive. There must be some object in view, when inquiries are made into the affairs of others; and as those who eagerly make them are frequently such as have tarnished their own names, and blasted their prospects, by their conduct, it follows, as a natural but grievous consequence, that they are pained on hearing that others are in a happier condition than themselves, and, by the most unprincipled means, to bring them down to their own level, or, if possible, to sink them below it. It matters not what pretence they may form to blind the observers of their behaviour, or to cast a cloak over their dark intentions; the eye of the world is acute in detecting fraud, and unceremonious in exposing it: and even were not this the case to the full extent of what it is, the frequent want of caution in the most practised adepts in the art of dissembling, would be sure, sooner or later, to bring to light their busy intermeddlings and their deep-laid schemes.

There is a most dangerous sort of enmity, however, and it is that which comes under the semblance of friendship. An open enemy may be guarded against with some chance of averting the blow which he intends to give; a suspected underminer may be carefully watched; but from the man whose words are as honey, and designs as gall, who can protect himself? Who but must be in danger of having his reputation injured, and his confidence abused, before he has sufficient experience of the false appearances, to make him cautious?

An easy unreservedness of intercourse, and a pleasing interchange of sentiment, are among the blessings derived from friendship, and, therefore, the misplacing

and abuse of confidence must engender bitterness of spirit.

Having ascertained by the most secret inquiries, the plan of attack which, he conceived, may do the most mischief, the double-faced detractor, at first, stabs in the dark, and, at length, when the eye of him whom he attacks is open to the treachery of his conduct, unable to defend himself from the charge of duplicity, he generally fabricates an excuse from some insult or injury he pretends to have sustained, and pushes his malignant purposes to the utmost extremity. Bad passions cherished in the mind will completely banish from it every feeling of satisfaction and comfort. In the place of those consolatory reflections which are the peculiar enjoyments of the good and benevolent, are implanted in the breasts of the evilminded the most corroding and anxious

cares.

Never was there seen a man, in the possession of happiness himself, who wished to see others miserable. Such a circumstance cannot occur; it is not in the nature of things. The evil-intentioned alone can employ their time in sowing the seeds of discord, and undermining the fair fabric of an honourable reputation, and such bad intention will most undoubtedly inflict the bitterest anguish on the destroyers of the happiness of others—an anguish far more intense, and far less supportable, as the cause of may be brought home to their own bosoms. Whoever has felt the consequences of the base calumniator's foul and meddling spirit, may be sufficiently vexed and disturbed, but there are generally found worthy characters to compassionate his case, and soothe his mind; whilst the base calumniator himself will be left to writhe under his own inflictions, and feel the misery he tried to dispense, shunned by the world, and left to reflections worse than death itself.

The religion which our blessed Saviour came into the world to teach to the children of men, and which has been continually spreading ever since throughout the habitable globe, is either wholly neglected, or unworthily professed, by the censorious meddler. Even in our own highly-favoured isle, where the inestimable privileges of reading the scriptures, and having them faithfully preached, are, unquestionably, enjoyed to a degree far beyond that of most other nations, it is lamentable to see the great prevalence of envy and ill-will. Instead of looking with a charitable eye on the failings of others, far too many are employed in the unthankful and odious office

of giving them the greatest publicity. They are taught not to harbour evil thoughts of others, yet their practice shows, but too plainly, that their suspicions of the principles and conduct of their fellow-creatures are of the most malevolent description. Although they cannot but know that it is highly sinful to rejoice at the transgressions of those around them, they seem to be peculiarly elate on the discovery of their being guilty of some culpable breach of duty, or wilful irregularity. Their duty calls them to make the character of every one appear in the fairest light; their inclinations prompt them to throw a shade over every virtue, and aggravate every crime. Such is the depravity of human nature; such the propensity of the human mind. Till man be made a new creature, till his mind be imbued with Divine grace, he will continue to see the mote in his brother's eye, without perceiving the beam in his own; detraction will be his delight, and charity a strange work.

In the best of men there is much room for personal improvement, for amendment in heart and life; and it is a well-established fact, that those who come nearest to the performance of their duties, see most clearly their own need of repentance and faith, and their utter unworthiness in the sight of God. The reason of this is clear; sin is of a blinding and hardening nature, and, hence, those generally stand highest in their own estimation who are most alienated from God and divine things. It follows, therefore, that those who give the greatest loose to that prying sort of curiosity, which seeks to feed on lost reputations, are, in a great measure, unconscious of their own infirmities, and easily brought to imagine themselves free from the faults of those whom they are the most eager to censure. It would, however, be no difficult matter to find sins indulged in to a greater excess by the censorious, than by those who are the constant objects of their malevolent attacks. How, it may well be asked, can those attend to their own advancement in piety and virtue, who merge every other consideration in the allabsorbing one of intruding upon others their advice or reprehension? Such are unmindful of their deficiencies, and regardless of their duties, and take especial care to have as little leisure as inclination to turn their thoughts from others to themselves— from evil surmises and artful inventions, to a careful redemption of time-from things on earth, to things in heaven.

If, among the insidious throng, there are any to be found who are at all conscious of their own failings, they seem, at the same

time, perfectly satisfied with retaining their defects, provided they can find others equally neglectful of their duties, and equally bent on pursuing heedless careers. This is a most fatal mistake. To be content with one's self, when guilty of error, because others happen to be the same, is not the way to reform. As men must stand or fall by their conduct, by their faith and practice, it is evidently a most destructive delusion, for them to be at peace while in a state of alienation from God, merely because others are in the same condition. Their habits of inquiry, their diligent searchings into any affairs not their own, have a material tendency, however, to blind their understandings, and corrupt their hearts. The process, from a man's censuring others, to his imbibing self-righteous views, is certain and rapid. He soon persuades himself that he is as good as his neighbours, better, indeed, than many around him, and is apt to mistake a spirit of malevolence, and a propensity to slander, for a virtuous indignation at vice, and a desire to put it down.

It is, no doubt, a duty to censure sin in every shape; but then, those that do so should do it in a proper spirit, that their examples may add power and efficacy to their reproofs. These reflections, the mali. cious busybody should carefully weigh over in his mind; for he may rest assured, that, if he be not made to feel a detestation of sin himself, and the warmest and purest zeal for the reformation and happiness of all who have gone astray; all is not right with him. He may suspect his own motives, when he feels a desire to know what others are doing, and apprehend that some malignant feeling may lie at the bottom of all his investigations. See we not now, are we not fully sensible, that our affairs must greatly suffer, that perplexity and ruin will attend them, if we so far forget our duties, as to engage our whole attention, and occupy our times, in administering to others advice mingled with reproof.

That impertinent curiosity, which leads the mind astray, is the greatest bane conceivable to tranquillity, and the most formidable foe that can be encountered in this world. Other evils may be overcome; other obstructions to our peace may be removed, if our minds be concentrated, and engaged in appropriate exercises, in the performance of individual, social, and religious obligations. But when our minds become dissipated and unstable; when the failings of others are sedulously investigated, and joyfully proclaimed, and personal inspection and improvement wholly neglected, then it is that our weakness is dis2D. SERIES, NO. 15.-VOL. II.

cernible to the whole world, and we fall an easy prey to the consequences of our imprudence.

Discarding all vain curiosity, let our minds be absorbed in the discharge of the duties of our callings, and we shall be amply rewarded by the prosperity and comfort of our circumstances. Let us, instead of descanting on the moral degradation of others, attend to our own vital interests, that we may be happy ourselves, and be the means of extending happiness to others. This is the only proper course to be adopted; and it is a course which will yield to every one who pursues it, a satisfaction which this world can neither give nor take away. Edenhall.

THOS. IRELAND.

MY NOTE-BOOK.-NO. I.

ON THE WRITINGS OF COWPER.

"We have few writers whose value is more sterling than that of Cowper. In every page of his com positions, you will find the most vigorous intellect, combined with the noblest principle.' Anonymous.

ONE of the most interesting, engaging, and instructive authors with whom an enlightened, and, especially, a pious individual, can be familiar, is the distinguished poet to whom this short paper immediately alludes, and whose name and works will uniformly command the esteem and admiration of the reading world.

There was much associated with the character of Cowper peculiarly calculated to fix the attention, to induce the attachment, and to awaken the sensibilities of pensive and devotional individuals; and his sorrows and depressions were so dark, cheerless, and protracted, that it is impossible to peruse his writings, and mark how his mind is developed, how his emotions are imbodied, and how his condition is illustrated, without being powerfully and affectingly impressed. There are few lives more riveting than the life of Cowper; few can inspire more sorrowful and sympathetic feelings; and it is rarely that we meet with a memoir, from the perusal of which, greater instruction, or more valuable advantage, can be derived. With all the deficiencies and defects of Hayley's Life of Cowper, and we admit they are neither few nor trivial, we can scarcely refer to any book which is more engaging, or which produces a more forcible impression on the mind of a discriminating, intelligent, and pious reader.

The most attractive charm of that work, however, arises from the letters of the 159.-VOL. XIV.

lamented poet, with which it is so highly beautified and enriched. They are, unquestionably, beautiful and finished specimens of the epistolary style. They are exquisitely penned. There is much nature and unaffectedness; there is no trickery or artifice; there is no tawdry or meretricious finery; there is no exaggeration, bombast, or ridiculous soaring. Every sentence is penned with the most perfect artlessness. The simplicity which characterizes almost every passage is a striking attraction. There are rich and beautiful descriptions furnished. Some of the delineations of character are very graphical and impressive. The finest and most philosophical remarks are often thrown out; a pleasing sportiveness, and original vein of humour, mark the entire series; the most genuine and elevated piety is broadly developed; and there is a mellowness, a clearness, a purity, an elegance, an ease, a classic finish, in the style, which scarcely any writer has excelled. Cowper, as an epistolary writer, is, confessedly, one of the very highest order, and, by every person of accurate taste, of sound and discriminating views, and of ardent piety, his letters will be highly prized, and regarded as some of the choicest gems, as it respects expression, delineation, and sentiment, which the English language can furnish.

We form a very high judgment of the Letters of Beattie, so vivacious, so eloquent, so classical; but we do not consider them at all comparable to the exquisite epistolary effusions of the "bard of Olney."

But, inimitable as are many of the Letters of Cowper, it is apparent that his fame arises principally from his poetry; and, whatever some may think of the rigidness of his morality, of the breadth and keenness of his irony, and of the unqualified language in which he so often indulges, it is evident, we apprehend, to all lovers of genuine "poesy," that few specimens of the art are more deserving of praise, or more worthy of preservation, than those which Cowper has furnished. When his poems first appeared, they attracted public attention, and secured for him a large measure of approbation, and that popularity has been increasing till the present period; so that there is scarcely any diversity of opinion, respecting the commanding claims which those poems prefer.

We concede that many objections may be urged against the poetry of Cowper. It is often flat and prosaic; his humour is sometimes vulgar and inappropriate; his sarcasm and invective are frequently intemperate and unmeasured; his transitions from serious to trifling subjects are, occa

sionally, too sudden and ungraceful; and his numbers are often not so flowing and harmonious as we could desire. But, after making these concessions, we inquire, Where is the man of true poetic taste and sensibility, and of genuine principle, who can be insensible to the striking excellencies which the muse of Cowper exhibits? The language he employs is bold, idiomatic, energetic, and impressive; the descriptions of scenery which he furnishes are graphical, and eloquent; his delineations of character are often strikingly beautiful; his satire and sarcasm are as keen and caustic as could be developed; his humour is the most playful, original, and profound; his views of truth are commandingly just and impressive; his exhibition of the christian character, and, especially, of the gospel ministry, is exquisitely furnished; and his representations of the errors, the follies, and the vices of the age, are as accurately and luminously sketched, as the pen of the poet could delineate them.

The tendency of all Cowper's poetry is to do good. There is no scepticism, no wantonness, no profanity, no jesting with sacred things, no trifling; he has an object to accomplish, and that object is to advocate the claims of Christianity, to honour the God of truth, and to inculcate the sublime and momentous principles of the gospel.

His "Table Talk" abounds in clever, smart, and, vivacious, pungent dialogue, in which the most valuable sentiment will be found. His pieces, entitled "Hope," "Expostulation," "Truth," and several others, are admirable specimens of vigorous and glowing versification; the principles imbodied are pure and elevated; and many passages are uncommonly rich and beautiful, in expression and imagery.

His "Review of Schools" is peculiarly valuable, for the just and philosophic sentiment with which it is enriched. The lines on "Friendship" are, unquestionably, some of the finest in the language. poem on his mother's picture, I have uniformly considered one of the most touching, eloquent, and beautiful specimens, which can be furnished.

His

The great production of Cowper is evidently "The Task ;" and it is a noble monument of his taste, piety, and genius. In that fine poem, how strikingly and beautifully has he sketched character, painted the joys and endearments of home, described the quiet and sunny scenery of creation, and exhibited the pure and exquisite enjoyments of religion! To a mind imbued with poetic taste and sensibility, and cherishing the religious sentiments of Cowper,