care of you provoketh me to wish you to follow, or documents to you in this your tender age. Let your first action be the lifting up of your mind to Almighty God by hearty prayer, and feeling ly digeft the words you fpeak by continual meditation, and think ing of him to whom you pray; and ufe this as an ordinary, and at an ordinary hour, whereby the time itself will put you in remembrance to do that which you are accustomed to do. In that time apply your study to fuch hours as your difcreet mafter doth affign you, earnestly; and the time I know he will fo limit as fhall be both fufficient for your learning, and fafe for your health. And mark the fenfe and the matter of what you read, as well as the words: fo fhall you both enrich your tongue with words, and your wit with matter; and judgment will grow as years grow in you. Be humble and obedient to your mafter; for un, lefs you frame yourself to obey others, yea, and feel in yourself what obe dience is, you shall never be able to teach others how to obey you. Be courteous of gefture, and affable to all men; there is nothing that winneth so much, with fo little coft. Ufe moderate diet; fo aș after your meal you may feel your wit fresher, and not duller; and your body more lively, and not more heavy. Seldom drink wine, yet fometimes do left, being enforced to drink upon the fudden, you fhould find yourfel inflamed. Ufe exercife of body, but fuch as is without peril of your joints or bones. It will encrease your force, and enlarge your breath. Delight to be cleanly, as well in all parts of your perfon, as in your garments. It fhall make you grateful in each company, but, otherwife, loathfome.

Give yourself to be merry. For you degenerate from your father, if you find not yourfelf most able in wit and body, to do any thing when you be molt merry. But let your mirth be ever void of all fcurrility, and biting words to any man. For a wound, given by a word, is oftentimes harder to be cured than that which is given with a fword. Be you rather a hearer and bearer away of other men's talk, than a beginner or procurer of fpeech, otherwife you fhall be counted to delight to hear yourself speak. If you hear a wife fentence, or an apt phrafe, commit it to your memory, with refpect of the circumstances when you shall speak it. Let never oath be heard to come out of your mouth, nor word of ribaldrys Deteft it in others, fo fhall cuftom make to yourself a law against it in yourself. Be modeft in each affembly; and rather be rebuked of light fellows for maidenlike fhamefaced. nefs, than of your fad friends for bold pertnefs. Think upon every word you speak before you utter it; and remember how na. ture hathi ramified up, as it were, the tongue with the teeth; yea, and hair without the lips; all betokening reins or bridles, against the loose use of the tongue. Above all things tell no untruth. No, not in trifles. The cuftom of it is naught; and let it not fatisfy you that for a time the hearers take it for a truth; for after, it will be known as it is, to your fhame. For there cannot be a greater reproach to a gentleman, than to be accounted a lyar,

Study and endeavour yourfelf to be virtuously occupied; fo fhall you make fuch an habit of well doing in you, that you fhall not know how to do evil, even though you would. Remember, my fon, the noble blood you are defcended of through your mother; and think that only by virtuous life, and good action, you may be an or nament to that illuftrious family; and otherwife, through vice and floth, you fhall be counted tabes generis, one of the greateft curfes that can happen to man. Well, my little Philip, this is enough for me, and I fear too much for you. But if I fhall find that this light meal of digeftion nourish any thing the weak ftomach of your young capacity, I will, as I find the fame grow ftronger, feed it with tougher food.

Your loving father, fo long as you live in the fear of God,

H. SIDNEY.

For the NEW-ENGLAND QUARTERLY MAGAZINE.

MESSRS. EDITORS,

I

HAVE with pleasure obferved, that you have alloted a department of your well defigned mifcellany to the fubject of Morals. Although I have not fo good an idea of myself, as to confider that I am included among the Sons of Genius, whom you have invited to become Corref pondents, yet, with your leave, I will occafionally occupy a page in this divifion of your publications with the remarks of a MORAL OBSERVER.

THE MORAL OBSERVER, No. I.

THOSE, who minutely attend to the operations of the human will, perceive, that its decifions are frequently in direct oppofition to the dictates of reafon. The many inftances of irrational conduct, which the events of every day exhibit, create furprize in the witneffes, and oftentimes entail much mifery on the actors. There feems to be in the bosoms of men a counsellor, whose advice varies from the determinations of unbiaffed judgment. This counfellor is eloquent and influential, ingenious in excufes, abundant in refource, and full of expedients to accomplish its purposes. Such qualities commonly command fuccefs; but the fuccefs of this adviser is always in a bad caufe. His name is Indolence, a foe to man greatly to be dreaded, because greatly powerful.

The affertion may seem paradoxical, but it is a fact, that indolence is more active in producing the evils of life, than any other paffion in the human breaft. It perfuades to modes of conduct, which fooner or later involve the idle in the embarrassments of penury and the miseries of remorse; and almost invariably hurries its votaries into vice, want and woe.

The Almighty Creator of all things has made it a law, that the harmony of the univerfe and the health and happiness of ani

mated nature should confist in certain degrees of action. Should motion cease, men and animals would gradually be deftroyed; and it is true, that in proportion as they approximate to inaction, they approach to decay. It is therefore phyfically of great advan tage to be in a certain degree active; and if we confider the nas ture of our intellectual faculties, and the conditions upon which we live in the world, we fhall readily perceive, that a due exers tion of our energies is alfo mentally, morally, and prudentially productive of good.

It is fortunate for our country, that in its present state of society there are few hereditary fortunes, which enable heirs apparent to waste their existence in idleness, or ruin their health and eftate in diffipation. If the inhabitants of New-England are fuperior to the people of other countries, their fuperiority is to be attri buted to their moral habits. Here every man is obliged to cre ate his own fortune, to fupport himself and family by his own induftry; every one is convinced that individual merit is founded on individual exertion, and that the rank and refpectability of a man is always in proportion to his character and merits. The people of New-England have no time to be idle; their business and their duties oblige them to be active; and the industry, which generally prevails among them, affords an advantageous contraft to the fluggish habits of the few, who listen to the fyren language of indolence, languish in ennui, and become involved in the miferies of idlenefs.

There is a pleasure in industry, which every one who has ex perienced it must ever wish to enjoy. Every thing feems cheerful to the induftrious man. He greets with a smile every friend he meets. Always fenfible of moral enjoyment, and pleased with the consciousness of meritorious exertion, his heart expands with humane feelling, and his mind enjoys the ferenity of content. His habits procure for him health, wealth, respectability, and eafe. He is free from the cares that perplex the embarrassed, and is never obliged to feek relief in the perpetration of crimes. Selfexamination makes him acquainted with his virtues, and pleafed with himself, and in this internal enjoyment confifts much happi

nefs.

On the other hand, the indolent man is diffatisfied with himself. He finds himself involved in embarrassments, in which his crimes and follies, not his misfortunes, have placed him. He neglects his business, experiences a lofs of credit, is harraffed with pecuniary difficulties, has recourse to vicious practifes for relief, degenerates into a lyar, at length becomes fraudulent, but, finding thefe expedients ferve but to fink him deeper in wretchedness, feeks oblivion of his woes in the pernicious draughts of intoxication, and finally, having loft all fense of moral obligation, and become tired of an exiftence, rendered infupportable by miferable' ennui, and a continual failure of all fchemes, both good and vicious, invented to extricate him from mifery, he at last commits

fome enormous crime, for which political juftice condemns him to capital punishment,

Is the picture of this progrefs overcharged? Look around you, you will fee every indolent man in one or other of the stages of this fatal journey.Induced by repentance, fome may make long ftops on the road, and others be unsteady in their progreffion, but it is a fact, that every indolent man will, at fome time, find himself involved in diftreffing embarrassments, become vicious in practice, and extremely unhappy in life.

It is a little unfortunate, that men are apt to think themselves induftrious when they are really idle. There is a deception, by which all men fometimes cheat themfelves. The fuggestions of indolence are fo artful, that they are often mistaken for the dictates of induftry. When difinclined to vigorous exertion, the mind easily perfuades itself it is equally meritoriously employed, if engaged in a frivolous purfuit, that wears the femblance of utility. There is much of this bufy idlenefs in the world. Of this cheat the indolently inclined are continually the dupes. This fraud greatly fecilitates the acquirement of thofe idle habits, which, when once formed, it is fo difficult to deftroy. When, therefore, a young man finds that he is endeavouring to impofe this delufion upon himself, let him confider the attempt as an indication of his danger. Let him double his vigour to counteract the arts of indolence; if he fucceeds, honor and happiness will attend him; but if he be fubdued, difgrace, infamy and wretchedwill infallibly ensue.

I have obferved that the difpofition of the age tends in this country to idleness. This difpofition has affected manners, morals, religion, and literature. Thofe, who are accustomed to visit the circles of polite life, will readily acknowledge, that the manners of our Gentlemen have greatly degenerated from that attentive civility of our forefathers, and that active defire of pleafing, which required fo little exertion, and gave fo much pleasure. These engaging qualities have been fucceeded by a fashionable lounge, entirely difregardful of the laws of good-breeding, and a general apathy, equally devoid of a participation in the joys or forrows of others. To feel or to please requires too much exertion of our fine Ladies and Gentlemen, and indeed it is attended with fome difficulty to make them even active enough to receive pleasure.

To thefe manners fashionable education feems to be adapted. Our Girls and Boys are with confiderable labor driven through a dull routine of bufy idlenefs. They are taught a fmattering of many things, and obtain a proficiency in nothing.

That morality alfo, which requires much virtuous exertion, does not prevail among our citizens. A kind of univerfal benev olence, which is as barren as it is extenfive, and a wordy fyftem of morals, which lives in empty expreffion, but never reaches practice, feem to characterife the times. I am forry to add, that that religion which recommends an energetic difcharge of chrif tian duties, has among us bat few fincere votaries.

The literature likewife of the day is in our country very fuper ficial. It confifts of but little more than plagiarisms from European writers, and dull compilations upon hacknied fubjects. It is by no means common to find a learned man among us. There are fome indeed, who, by comparison with others, appear to be eminent scholars, but, upon a proper inquiry respecting their knowledge and character, it will be found, that they are but babes in fcience. Nor can there be a probability that we shall have men more learned, while the difpofition of the age continues. It is true that we have Philofophical Societies, but what are they doing, or what have they done? Until they are more active, we shall have little reafon to boast of them.

It may be alledged in favor of indolence, that at times the fpirits are low, the body unnerved, and the mind languid, and that these defects are constitutional, and out of our power to avoid. There is much plaufibility in this; but thefe effects may be prevented, by preventing their causes. Their caufes are irregular or improper diet, imprudent cloathing, vicious pleasures or criminal indulgencies. Any man, who lives a fober and regular life may become industrious. Let the body be educated as well as the mind; it may then be kept in good health and fpirits, and the mind be ever vigorous and active.

I cannot conclude without recommending to my readers a ferious attention to this important fubject. I have known many men, who have been ruined by indulging a little habitual indolence. I am fully of opinion, that idleness is the most copious fource of the miseries of life. It is the mother of vice, and the parent of penury, and its offspring ever unite to produce remorse and wretchedness.

ON THE CONFLICTS OF LIFE.

Extracted from a difcourfe of Diogenes as related by Dio Chryfoftom

AT

T the celebration of the Ifthmian Games, one of the com. pany afkt Diogenes, whether he alfo were come to be a fpectator of the combatants? No, he replied; but to be a combatant myself. The man laught at this; and further enquired, whom he expected for antagonists? Antagonists? faid Diogenes; with his cuftomary look of archnefs and intelligence: 1 expect antagonists of the most unmanageable and unconquerable fierceness; whom not a fingle Greek of the whole affembly would dare to look in the face: none of your runners, however, or wrestlers, or jumpers, or boxers, or throwers of the javelin and the quoit ; but antagonists of fobriety and decorum.Who are they? the man enquired. LABOURS and HARDSHIPS, fays Diogenes: antagonists of a moft sturdy character, and invincible by infatuated and befotted people, who confume their entire days in eating, and fnore away their nights; but an eafy victory to opponents fo flens