ject, which most nearly concerns ourselves, and inquire, what are the chief difficulties and dangers in the practice of virtue, to which men of retired and studious lives, abstracted in a great degree from the pleasures, the business, and the conversation of the world, are exposed.

And the fault that first offers itself, as most immediately connected with such a situation, and from which almost all its other dangers spring, is a habit of indolence. Not labor only, but industry of every kind, is usually attended with some portion of present uneasiness: but this virtue being of much importance to the general welfare of mankind, a particular provision has been made for it in the constitution of the world. It is not left, like many other virtues, under the guardianship of reason and reflection; but its mother, necessity, is ever living and watchful to preserve it. The greatest part of mankind must labor or perish. Many others are constantly engaged in providing for the ease and satisfaction of themselves and their families. Even the votaries of pleasure are obliged to attend it at fixed places and seasons; and enjoy it under such conditions, as change their amusements into business. On those only who are withdrawn from the pleasures and the pains of social life, have the immediate motives to industry no influence; and, though they may easily discern, that, by the appointment of God, every thing good and valuable is the reward of our earnest endeavors; that, without them, wealth and honor can seldom, learning and virtue can never, be acquired; yet are there not many men, in whom the strength of reason, unassisted by passion, is able to prevail against a present pain.

The passions are another excellent contrivance of the Author of Nature, to keep all the faculties of our souls active and vigorous. When the immediate occasions of industry cease, these often supply the want of them: and how nicely they are adjusted to the general state and condition of mankind, may be observed in this, as in innumerable other instances. Though we hear so many complaints of their mighty force; yet diminish it a little, and they are useless. Place a man in a situation, where they are not frequently exercised; and he is in danger of sinking into an unfeeling lethargy. Such is the situation we are considering: for the exercise of the passions arises chiefly

from the various turns and accidents in human affairs. What we experience at all times, will at no time affect us. If a man's life runs on in the same even tenor, yesterday, and to-day, and to-morrow, all the events of it pass by him unnoticed; there is nothing to awaken his attention, much less to move his passions he becomes indifferent to every acquirement, fatigued with every pursuit.

It cannot be doubted but the mind may be employed in a closet, and as fully engaged in a search after knowlege as in the more noisy scenes of business or folly and the force of an uncommon genius, the prospect of reputation or advantage, or even a strong habit of industry early acquired, may sometimes prevent that satiety, which is apt to mix itself with all human conditions. But it will require more than an ordinary share of resolution, for one of only moderate abilities, who has no expectation of making any great discoveries, or of obtaining any considerable rewards by his progress in learning, to continue the pursuit of it during his whole life, unless he is often relieved by other occupations or amusements. The same task constantly repeated must at length prove irksome. The most delicious repast, if set before us every day, would become insipid or distasteful.

We must therefore confess, that a station, which removes the common motives to industry, which impairs the vigor of the passions, its chief supports, and at the same time renders it more than usually burthensome, is likely to make men indolent.

Indolence, in a being, whose faculties all depend, both for their preservation and improvement, on continual exercise, is unquestionably a great fault. But it comes not without a long train of attendants. That we may view them distinctly, let us consider the mischievous effects of this habit, and of the retirement which produces it, or the understanding and the affections.

Any serious employment of the understanding is inconsistent with habitual indolence. Discussion and inquiry are always laborious. Time, and patience, and pains are necessary to separate truth from falsehood; to collect and to compose the arguments on each side. Prejudices arising from temper, from

education, from interest, and from innumerable other causes, are not easily overcome; and when a ray of reason breaks through them, resolution is wanted to follow steadily its guidance: and yet without this labor we forfeit all the use and benefit of our, understanding. If we snatch the first appearances, and sit down contented with them, to what purpose is it that we are able to investigate hidden truths? What avails our faculty of judging, if we suffer each thin pretence to conceal them from us?

It might be expected, that they, who entertain every wandering opinion without examination, should dismiss it without regret on the arrival of a new guest. But the fact is otherwise. This kind of levity is attended with obstinacy. The same disposition, which leads men into error, makes them unwilling to correct it: a state of doubtfulness is a state of uneasiness. The mind therefore hastens to the end of its journey; but to trace its steps back again, and examine all the windings by which the truth may have escaped, is to the indolent an intolerable labor.

But if this disposition is the parent of obstinacy, retirement is its nurse. The retired man's thoughts are confined to few subjects, his conversation to few persons. As these will usually fall into the same habits of thinking, and be restrained within the same little compass, each will confirm himself, and each the others, in the sentiments they have embraced; whilst the mind, which ranges through the various fields of science, will be less fond of each notion; and, when men of different cha racters and employments meet, opposite prejudices will check each other, and nature and reason, on the whole, prevail. Even an unrestrained conversation among our own countrymen is not usually thought a sufficient security against narrow and illiberal conceptions of persons and things. Every nation has its peculiar character; and they, who would open and enlarge their understandings, visit distant countries, and examine the principles they have hastily imbibed at home, by the manners and sentiments of foreigners. But if a whole people may obstinately adhere to the same established errors, there is much greater danger that this should happen to small societies of

men, educated by the same contracted plan, and studying together the same favorite systems.

The faults already mentioned lead to another, self-conceit. The sluggard is wiser in his own conceit, than seven men that can render a reason. He, who has no inclination to learn more, will be very apt to think that he knows enough. Nor is it wonderful that he should pride himself in the abundance of his wisdom, with whom every wavering thought, every halfformed imagination, passes for a fixed and substantial truth. Obstinacy also, which makes him unable to discover his mistakes, makes him believe himself unable to commit them.

Self-conceit, in return, promotes indolence and obstinacy. For why should he toil any longer in the mines of knowlege, who is already possessed of their most valuable treasures? how can he submit to try his opinions by the judgment of others, who is himself the fittest to decide?

This temper, when the mind is conversant with points of the highest nature, such as relate to religion and government, will show itself in violent bigotry. What indeed is this, but an obstinate adherence to ill-grounded notions; with a conceit, that we only, and those of our own sect or party, are the favorites of God, and the friends of mankind, and that all who differ from us are weak or wicked? Want of industry to examine our own tenets, of candor to listen to those of others, and of modesty in judging of both, lays a sure foundation for this vice; which can never be removed, but by another thing equally wanted, an extensive acquaintance with the world. This would certainly convince us, that among persons of every denomination some may be found of excellent understandings and distinguished virtue.

There are no subjects, about which men are less apt to be diffident, than those where diffidence most becomes them, subjects of the greatest importance and the greatest difficulty. Such as call themselves philosophers and masters of reason, seem afraid to use their reason in their most essential concerns. Whatever skill they employ, is employed in the defence of particular systems; and they reject with abhorrence all suspicions of mistake. But how free soever these doctrines may be from

mistake, yet the mind, accustomed to determine peremptorily, and fondly to admire its own judgments, will get such a wrong bias as all its philosophy cannot overcome. And thus the noblest studies, by imprudent management, are made to serve no other purpose, but to increase our obstinacy and self-opinion.

From understandings thus perverted what great improvements in science can be expected? As great indeed as were ever produced in all the monasteries in Christendom. How many thousands were, for many centuries, constantly set apart for the cultivation of divine and human learning! And yet how little did they contribute towards the revival of letters, or the reformation of religion! Their indolence prevented the one, their obstinacy and bigotry the other and if the same causes had not retained some influence, even in societies, whose separation from the world is less rigid than that of the cloister; those absurd and slavish principles of government, which are now fled into everlasting darkness, would not have left their last footsteps before the altars of God, and in the fairest temples of literature. If just reasoning and true philosophy had not prevented their entrance, yet concern for the welfare of mankind, or zeal for the honor of religion, should quickly have banished them. But these motives must lose their influence among men, whose retirement renders them languid in every friendly affection, unmoved with every sentiment of devotion.

Indolence affects not the understanding only: it spreads a general numbness and insensibility over the whole soul; and makes it unable to feel the warmth of the benevolent affections. It cannot be imagined, that he, who is indifferent to his own concerns, will be solicitous for the happiness of others; or that he will officiously engage in the labor of love, to whom every species of labor seems insupportable. Generous and friendly dispositions florish only among vigorous and active faculties.

Nay, if indolence could be excluded, yet the shade of retirement is itself sufficient to chill the friendly affections. Let the difference be observed between a man's compassion for a stranger in distress, and his anxiety, his tenderness, for a friend, a companion, a neighbor; and we shall easily be convinced, how much these affections are nurtured and cherished by society and conversation. Such is the constitution of human