men, without that, cannot govern themselves with any prudence or discretion imaginable. This is the only politic magic that has power to make a man walk invisible, give him access into all men's privacies, and keep all others out of his, which is as great an odds as it is to discover what cards those he plays with have in their hands, and permit them to know nothing of his. And therefore he never speaks his own sense, but that which he finds comes nearest to the meaning of those he converses with, as birds are drawn into nets by pipes that counterfeit their own voices. By this means he possesses men, like the devil, by getting within them before they are aware, turns them out of themselves, and either betrays or renders them ridiculous, as he finds it most agreeable either to his humour or his occasions.

As for religion, he believes a wise man ought to possess it only that he may not be observed to have freed himself from the obligations of it, and so teach others by his example to take the same freedom. For he who is at liberty has a great advantage over all those whom he has to deal with, as all hypocrites find by perpetual experience. That one of the best uses that can be made of it is to take measure of men's understandings and abilities by it, according as they are more or less serious in it; for he thinks that no man ought to be much concerned in it but hypocrites, and such as make it their calling and profession; who, though they do not live by their faith, like the righteous, do that which is nearest to it, get their living by it; and that those only take the surest course who make their best advantages of it in this world, and trust to Providence for the next, to which purpose he believes it is most properly to be relied upon by all men.

He admires good-nature as only good to those who have it not, and laughs at friendship as a ridiculous foppery which all wise men easily outgrow; for the more a man loves another, the less he loves himself. All regards and civil applications should, like true devotion, look upwards, and address to those that are above us, and from whom we may in probability expect either good or evil; but to apply to those that are our equals, or such as cannot benefit or hurt us, is a far more irrational idolatry than worshipping of images or beasts. All the good that can proceed from friendship is but this, that it puts men in a way to betray one another. The best parents, who are commonly the worst men, have naturally a tender kindness for their children, only because they believe they are a part of themselves, which shows that self-love is the

original of all others, and the foundation of that great law of nature, self-preservation; for no man ever destroyed himself wilfully that had not first left off to love himself. Therefore a man's self is the proper object of his love, which is never so well employed as when it is kept within its own confines, and not suffered to straggle. Every man is just so much a slave as he is concerned in the will, inclinations, or fortunes of another, or has any thing of himself out of his own power to dispose of; and therefore he is resolved never to trust any man with that kindness which he takes up of himself, unless he has such security as is most certain to yield him double interest. For he that does otherwise is but a Jew and a Turk to himself, which is much worse than to be so to all the world beside. Friends are only friends to those who have no need of them, and when they have, become no longer friends; like the leaves of trees, that clothe the woods in the heat of summer, when they have no need of warmth, but leave them naked when cold weather comes; and since there are so few that prove otherwise, it is not wisdom to rely on any.

He is of opinion that no men are so fit to be employed and trusted as fools or knaves; for the first understand no right, the others regard none; and whensoever there falls out an occasion that may prove of great importance, if the infamy and danger of the dishonesty be not. too apparent, they are the only persons that are fit for the undertaking. They are both equally greedy of employment, the one out of an itch to be thought able, and the other honest enough, to be trusted, as by use and practice they sometimes prove. For the general business of the world lies, for the most parts, in routines and forms, of which there are none so exact observers as those who understand nothing else to divert them, as carters use to blind their fore-horses on both sides, that they may see only forward, and so keep the road the better; and men that aim at a mark use to shut one eye, that they may see the surer with the other. If fools are not notorious, they have far more persons to deal with of their own elevation (who understand one another better) than they have of those that are above them, which renders them fitter for many businesses than wiser men, and they believe themselves to be so for all. For no man ever thought himself a fool that was one, so confident does their ignorance naturally render them; and confidence is no contemptible qualification in the management of human affairs. And as blind men have secret artifices and tricks to supply that defect, .

and find out their ways, which those who have their eyes, and are but hoodwinked, are utterly unable to do; so fools have always little crafts and frauds in all their transactions, which wiser men would never have thought upon; and by those they frequently arrive at very great wealth, and as great success in all their undertakings. For all fools are but feeble and impotent knaves, that have as strong and vehement inclinations to all sorts of dishonesty as the most notorious of those engineers, but want abilities to put them in practice; and as they are always found to be the most obstinate and intractable people to be prevailed upon by reason or conscience, so they are as easy to submit to their superiors, that is knaves, by whom they are always observed to be governed, as all corporations are wont to choose their magistrates out of their own members. As for knaves, they are commonly true enough to their own interests; and while they gain by their employments, will be careful not to disserve those who can turn them out when they please, what tricks soever they put upon others; and therefore such men prove more useful to them in their designs of gain and profit than those whose consciences and reason will not permit them to take that latitude.

And since buffoonery is, and has always been, so delightful to great persons, he holds him very improvident, that is to seek in a quality so inducing, that he cannot at least serve for want of a better; especially since it is so easy, that the greatest part of the difficulty lies in confidence, and he that can but stand fair, and give aim to those that are gamesters, does not always lose his labour, but many times becomes well esteemed for his generous and bold demeanour; and a lucky repartee, hit upon by chance, may be the making of a man. This is the only modern way of running at tilt, with which great persons are so delighted to see men encounter one another, and break jests, as they did lances heretofore; and he that has the best beaver to his helmet has the greatest advantage; and as the former passed upon the account of valour, so does the latter on the score of wit, though neither, perhaps, have any great reason for their pretences, especially the latter, that depends much upon confidence, which is commonly a great support to wit, and therefore believed to be its betters, that ought to take place of it, as all men are greater than their dependents. So pleasant it is to see men lessen one another, and strive who shall show himself the most ill-natured and ill-mannered. As in

cuffing all blows are aimed at the face, so it fares in these rencounters, where he that wears the toughest leather on his visage comes off with victory, though he has ever so much the disadvantage upon all other accounts. For a buffoon is like a mad dog, that has a worm in his tongue, which makes him bite at all that light in his way; and as he can do nothing alone, but must have somebody to set him that he may throw at, he that performs that office with the greatest freedom, and is contented to be laughed at to give his patron pleasure, cannot but be understood to have done very good service, and consequently deserves to be well rewarded; as a mountebank's Pudding, that is content to be cut, and slashed, and burnt, and poisoned, without which his master can show no tricks, deserves to have a considerable share in his gains.

As for the meanness of these ways, which some think too base to be employed to so excellent an end, that imports nothing: for what dislike soever the world conceives against any man's undertakings, if they do but succeed and prosper it will easily recant its error, and applaud what it condemned before; and therefore all wise men have ever justly esteemed it a great virtue to disdain the false values it commonly sets upon all things, and which itself is so apt to retract—for as those who go up hill use to stoop and bow their bodies forward, and sometimes creep upon their hands, and those that descend to go upright; so, the lower a man stoops and submits in these endearing offices, the more sure and certain he is to rise; and the more upright he carries himself in other matters, the more like in probability to be ruined. And this he believes to be a wiser course for any man to take than to trouble himself with the knowledge of arts or arms; for the one does but bring a man an unnecessary trouble, and the other as unnecessary danger; and the shortest and more easy way to attain to both is to despise all other men, and believe as stedfastly in himself as he can, a better and more certain course than that of merit.

What he gains wickedly he spends as vainly; for he holds it the greatest happiness, that a man is capable of, to deny himself nothing that his desires can propose to him, but rather to improve his enjoyments by glorying in his vices: for glory being one end of almost all the business of this world, he who omits that in the enjoy ment of himself and his pleasures loses the greatest part of his

delight. And therefore the felicity, which he supposes other men apprehend that he receives in the relish of his luxuries, is more delightful to him than the fruition itself.

222.-MOVING ONWARD.

H. MARTINEAU.

[THE following reflective passage is from Miss Martineau's admirable novel of Deerbrook.' Whatever differences of opinion may exist as to the tendencies of some of this lady's works-and no living writer has been more attacked by unjust prejudices-no candid mind can doubt that the mainspring of all her writings has been an ardent desire for the well-being of the human race. She has the reward of all those who live for duty-something far higher than the victories of talent— the peace of the soul.]

The world rolls on, let what will be happening to the individuals who occupy it. The sun rises and sets, seed-time and harvest come and go, generations arise and pass away, law and authority hold on their course, while hundreds of millions of human hearts have stirring within them struggles and emotions eternally new;-an experience so diversified as that no two days appear alike to any one, and to no two does any one day appear the same. There is something so striking in this perpetual contrast between the external uniformity and internal variety of the procedure of existence, that it is no wonder that multitudes have formed a conception of Fate-of a mighty unchanging power, blind to the differences of spirits, and deaf to the appeals of human delight and misery; a huge insensible force, beneath which all that is spiritual is sooner or later wounded, and is ever liable to be crushed. This conception of Fate is grand, is natural, and fully warranted to minds too lofty to be satisfied with the details of human life, but which have not risen to the far higher conception of a Providence to whom this uniformity and variety are but means to a higher end than they apparently involve. There is infinite blessing in having reached the nobler conception; the feeling