"As he entered upon his charge a young man, rich, and patronised by the government, he was, in spite of his native obsequiousness, a being of much consequence, at least in his own eyes; but his parishioners did not at first rate him so highly as he could have wished; and this he felt, and was anxious to remove. As pulpitdisplay was not exactly his forte, he had recourse to smoothness of speech and sauvity of manner, and by these, he ultimate ly in so far carried his point. Upon the subjects of church and state,' he always, indeed, kept up the most unbending seve rity; but the good rustics regarded that as evidence of the purity of his faith, and the sincerity of his heart.

"He continued, accordingly, to hold fast his loyalty, and even essayed to make proselytes. In this praise-worthy vocation he had been pretty successful, at least to the extent of silencing opposition, except in the case of Dr Wild, practitioner of physic in Fergustown. The doctor was a learned man, had powerful lungs, and was equally an advocate for logic and liberty; so that, in as far as in him lay, he counteracted the loyal maxims of Mr Cymbal.

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The doctor was sometimes accused of being a resurrection-man;' and there was one subject which he had raised from the dead more than once. This was the minister's book; and it was observed that whenever the book rose its author fell. "Alone, the parson was no match for the doctor; and the doctor and book made

fearful odds. It must be confessed, that, like some of the magical volumes of which we read in romances, it was not opened except in cases of extremity. But, then, the fear of it was continually before the minister; and when it did make its appear ance, he fell as useless and silent as ever giant or goblin did at the sight or words of an enchanted tome.' "9

Vol. I. pp. 143-149.

Although we do not think the author of this work well qualified to combine a consistent or entertaining story, yet we think he might write an amusing enough volume, consisting of sketches, such as we have now given, of such characters and manners as are within the reach of his own observation. He fails entirely when he attempts any thing like high life, or when he aims at romantic invention. If he ever thinks of such a volume, he might find many of his materials in this novel, where they are in danger of being buried in their present form; and these he might new-model, in like manner as Mr Hume cut down his laborious Treatise on Human Nature, which scarcely any one read, in

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to those short and lively essays, which soon became general favourites.-Speaking of Hume's Essays, we have observed that there are several of these scattered in the earlier editions, which are now nowhere to be found in the later collections. One of them has been sent to us, which we shall give our readers, and we should be happy to republish several of the others, if we could lay hold of them. We recollect a short character of Sir Robert Walpole, an epistle dedicatory to the author of Douglas, and some others, which, as well as the essay we now publish, are very elegantly written, and have " no offence in them."

ON IMPUDENCE AND MODESTY, AN
ESSAY BY HUME.

I HAVE always been of opinion, that have been ill-grounded, and that the the complaints against Providence good or bad qualities of men are the causes of their good or bad fortune, more than what is generally imagined. There are, no doubt, instances to the contrary, and pretty numerous ones too; but few in comparison of the instances we have of a right distribution of prosperity and adversity; nor, indeed, could it be otherwise, from the common course of human affairs. To be endowed with a benevolent disposition, and to love others, will almost infallibly procure love and esteem; which is the chief circumstance in life, and facilitates every enterprise and undertaking; besides the satisfaction that immediately results from it. The case is much the same with the other virtues. Pros

perity is naturally, though not necessarily, attached to virtue and merit; and adversity, in like manner, to vice and folly.

rule admits of an exception with reI must, however, confess, that this gard to one moral quality, and that

In the last edition of this essay the words are, "I am of opinion that the complaints against Providence have been often ill-grounded, "-a change not to the better, but more consonant to the author's scepti cal opinions. The copy from which we print is said to have been preserved in a scarce volume, consisting of pieces that were published in the periodical works of the day only, and on that account are not generally known.

modesty has a natural tendency to conceal a man's talents, as impudence displays them to the utmost, and has been the only cause why many have risen in the world, under all the disadvantages of low birth, and little merit. Such indolence and incapacity is there in the bulk of mankind, that they are apt to receive a man for whatever he has a mind to put himself off for; and admit his overbearing airs as a proof of that merit which he assumes to himself. A decent assurance seems to be the natural attendant of virtue; and few men can distinguish impudence from it; as, on the other hand, diffidence being the natural result of vice and folly, has drawn disgrace upon modesty, which, in outward appearance, so nearly resembles it.

I was lately lamenting to a friend of mine, who loves a conceit, that popular applause should be bestowed with so little judgment, and that so many empty, forward, coxcombs, should rise up to a figure in the world; upon which he said, there was nothing surprising in the case. "Popular fame," said he, " is nothing but breath, or air; and air very naturally presses into a vacuum."

"

As impudence, though really a vice, has the same effects upon a man's fortune, as if it were a virtue; so, we may observe, that it is almost as difficult to be attained, and is, in that respect, distinguished from all the other vices, which are acquired with little pains, and continually increase upon indulgence. Many a man being sensible that modesty is extremely prejudicial to him in making his fortune, has resolved to be impudent, and to put a bold face upon the matter; but it is observable that such people have seldom succeeded in the attempt, but have been obliged to relapse into their primitive modesty. Nothing carries a man through the world like a true, genuine, natural impudence. Its counterfeit is good for nothing, nor can ever support itself. In any other attempt, whatever faults a man commits, and is sensible of, he is so much nearer his end, but, when he endeavours at impudence, if he ever failed in the attempt, the remembrance of it will make him blush, and

The above paragraph is omitted in the last editions of this essay.

will infallibly disconcert him; after which, every blush is a cause for new blushes, till he be found out to be an arrant cheat, and a vain pretender to impudence.

If any thing can give a modest man more assurance, it must be some advantages of fortune, which chance procures to him. Riches naturally gain a man a favourable reception in the world, and give merit a double lustre, when a person is endowed with it; and supply its place, in a great measure, when it is absent. 'Tis wonderful to observe what airs of superiority fools and knaves with large possessions give themselves above men of the greatest merit in poverty. Nor do the men of merit make any strong opposition to these usurpations; or rather seem to favour them by the modesty of their behaviour. Their good sense and experience make them diffident of their judgment, and cause them to examine every thing with the greatest accuracy; as, on the other hand, the delicacy of their sentiments makes them timorous lest they commit faults, and lose, in the practice of the world, that integrity of virtue, so to speak, of which they are so jealous. To make wisdom agree with confidence is as difficult as to reconcile vice to modesty.

These are the reflections that have occurred to me upon this subject of impudence and modesty; and I hope the reader will not be displeased to see them wrought into the following allegory:

Jupiter, in the beginning, joined Virtue, Wisdom, and Confidence together; and Vice, Folly, and Diffidence; and, in that society set them upon the earth. But though he thought he had matched them with great judgment, and said that Confidence was the natural companion of Virtue, and that Vice deserved to be attended with Diffidence, they had not gone far before dissention arose among them. Wisdom, who was the guide of the one company, was always accustomed, before she ventured upon any road, however beaten, to examine it carefully; to inquire whither it led; what dangers, difficulties, and hindrances, might possibly or probably occur in it. In these deliberations she usually consumed some time; which delay was very displeasing to Confidence, who was always in

jecting foreign fashions. It was a British sailor who hated the French, because they wore wooden shoes. And it is not impossible, that to our country's characteristic fondness of the mode of her southern neighbours, the gentilezze of the Italian opera may seem excellent company for a French head-dress. The Italian language, too, has begun to be studied a good deal of late; and this circumstance affords additional facilities for introducing the contemplated innovation. I was greatly relieved, however, from my apprehensions on this head, on going this winter to the Pantheon, when some scenes in Don Giovanni were performed; for, making all due allowance for the gratulations of little masters and misses, exhibited no doubt for the purpose of showing their progress at school, and which were most perversely misplaced, and particularly clamorous when the actors pronounced so rapidly as to be utterly unintelligible,-the indifference, or impatience of the audience in general, was undisguised enough; and the peals of applause with which "Roy's Wife" was received and encored, proved how gladly the most sublime passages in the Don were exchanged for a simple and intelligible Scottish song. Imperfect as this performance was, still I cannot help looking on it as an overture preparatory to more serious attempts; I shall, therefore, be excused for saying a word or two on this kind of entertainment.

Far be it from me to hint, that Scotland is yet prepared to endure the practical defects and absurdities of the best operas in Europe, She will not make the Temple of the Muses the sanctuary of intrigue, like the French, or of licentiousness, like the Italians, or of political cabals, like the Germans, or (shall I say it?) of dangerous dissipation, like her English brethren. But even under the best possible regulations, the opera, I apprehend, is from its nature incapable of becoming an elegant or rational amusement. It is only necessary to consider the materials of which it is composed, in order to be convinced of its faults. Acting, music, and dancing, are the ingredients of this olio of the fine arts, Such an entertainment is not more repugnant to good taste than to common sense. The multi

plicity of the objects that solicit attention dissipates it, and their incongruity confounds it. A burletta, for instance, even to a child, affords much less pleasure with its composite buffoonery, than its several parts, as exhibited separately in a New Year's eve serenade, or raree-show, or on the hustings at Bartholomew. But a serious opera, composed with such mortal defiance to all the unities, as to show a hero acting, and singing, and dancing, and dying, almost in the same breath, must to every reasonable being appear monstrous. Although such inconsistency of individual character should be avoided; though the hero in strutting his hour upon the stage, should be decently in training for his final catastrophe, by going through the several gradations of making his last solemn signs, and attuning his voice and steps to the dead march in Saul; still propriety is violated,-trills always appear impertinencies amid sober business, and dancing levity, though it be the "dance of death."

Besides, it is not the character of one or more personages which forms that of the piece. In every opera one sees distinct and different modes of life and manner in a single plot,-or act, or scene; and whether the actors be one or many, unity of design is equally disregarded, and nature and truth are violated. This is a defect which it is impossible for any subject, or any dexterity in managing it, to remove. Mythology has been made use of to do away the evil; but in vain. No verisimilitude could be given to a scene where Apollo, Satyrs, and Momus united in plying their respective gifts to promote some great event; nor could Apollo be properly called upon to exert his three divine powers at once. The truth is, even the gods themselves, in their visits to men, were always obliged to conform to the rules of humanity, so far as to assume but one form at a time; and whenever they departed from this practice, they were immediately recognized to be beings of another world.

In spite of all its defects, the opera has maintained its popularity on the Continent for nearly two centuries, and is at this moment one of the favourite amusements of most of the nations of Europe. Nor is this circumstance difficult to be accounted