Here the venerable rhapsodist made a pause, and stood in an attitude which no painter's fancy has ever yet been able to express or conceive,-and an attitude which shews human nature in its highest perfection and glory. His arms were stretched out, as if ready to clasp all creation in one glow of affection! His eyes were fixed on the heavens, as if drawn by some powerful cord to the throne of God! And the flush of triumph that overspread his countenance spoke the divine raptures of his heart-raptures, which, though we cannot describe, we must pronounce them happy who feel!

A

Having continued sometime in this posture, he was going to look into the scroll which he held in his hand. But, perceiving us, he recollected himself and approached to meet us, with the utmost composure of mind. He invited us to sit down, which having done, we made ourselves and our business known to him. He seemed to be a little uneasy at being discovered by us, and said that he thought the usefulness of his writings depended much on his being concealed from the world. We reminded him, that it was our intention likewise to remain concealed, and that though he and we had become known to cach other, yet the world knew nothing the more of us on that account; and we might certainly trust one another. He seemed satisfied at this, and told us that he had sent his second paper to us that day, in which he had taken the liberty to recommend some things to us as writers, and to enforce them upon principles of religion and conscience. He added that, if we

would permit him, he would narrate the substance of them.

But what further passed on this occasion, together with our taking leave of him and the account of our journey homewards, must, for want of room at present, be deferred to another month.

THE HERMIT, No. III.

JANUARY, 1758.

Our last, No. II. of the Hermit, contained an account of the discovery of his retreat by some of the proprietors of the American Magazine; the rapturous SOLILOQUY in which we found him engaged; our address to him, and, after mutual compliments, our taking leave.

The following is a copy of his advice to us authors, which we found, as he had promised, on our return home.

GENTLEMEN,

YOUR undertaking is laudable but arduous. You are not to consider yourselves as writing for the few. You are to instruct and entertain the many; which will deserve, nay demand, the utmost exertion of your faculties. Without doubt, you have duly weighed them, and found them not unequal to the task. Yet, give me leave to utter my sentiments with freedom. The fate of others who have enterprised the same attempt, makes me anxious

for yours. They failed in the execution; and had I no higher opinion of your merit than of many who have gone before you in works of the like kind in this country, the name of THEODORE should not have swelled the list of your correspondents. Interested, therefore, as I am in the success of your scheme, I may claim a right of pointing out to you some of the principal difficulties you have to encounter in your

way.

First then, you can never be too curious in the choice of your subjects. There is no circumstance more closely connected with the success of writing than this. What you lay before the public should not only be important, but interesting. It should not only edify the head, but affect the heart. However learned and accurate you may shew yourselves to be, the world would but little thank you for a dry, insipid, formal piece of morality. This is a wide and noble field I grant, but then it is a beaten one; and nothing bribes the attention like novelty and variety.

The two main subjects, which have employed the pens of the wise in all ages, are religion and government; and in countries where there is no liberty to animadvert freely on these topics, there are none besides which merit the care of a good man. Yet to launch headlong into religion is often to sound the trump of controversy, and dash against the rock of scandal; and, as to politics, you will find them a hedge of thorns and briars.

What then is to be done? To be general is to be dull and unaffecting, and to be particular is to be odi

ous and offensive. A hard dilemma this for a writer! The best counsel I can administer in such a case, to avoid both inconveniences, is to watch conjunctures. These will always produce something that a sagacious observer may turn to his purpose. A topic that would scarce be listened to at one period of time, may become the sole object of attention at another. Alas! what are the affairs of this world, but continual flux and revolution! All is change and instability. Moment after moment sees innumerable beings exist and disappear. Events of the greatest import, the fate of kingdoms and of kings, the weal or woe of thousands, may hang on that mere instant of time, that vanished ere I spoke, What then is permanent and immutable? HE, only HE who made, sustains, regulates, and pervades this universal frame.

Oh thou eternal self-existing, self-supported Being; whose pure unsearchable essence excludes all shadow of variation; who art the same to-day, yesterday and forever! corroborate my soul with stability and perseverance. perseverance. Abstract me from this world and all its tinsel vanities! Teach me to raise my hopes and affections to thee the sovereign good, that I may not be moved nor shaken by the events of this transitory scene, but look continually forward to that grand and awful period, when time and change and suffering shall be no more.

But, forgive me, gentlemen, these sudden ejaculations, which a view of the endless vicissitudes of this life naturally excited-I was recommending to you an attention to conjunctures and circumstances, to enable you at once to instruct and please your rea.

ders. By this means you will secure one great point, that of rousing the attention, and will be at greater liberty to bestow your pains upon the other two; namely, to please the imagination and satisfy the understanding; which three requisites constitute the whole merit and essence of literary composition. While you keep these ends in view, even your lighter and more humorous essays will have some useful moral couched in them, agreeably to the fine precept of Horace.

Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci.

But though I have mentioned the rocks and difficulties that beset religious and political subjects; yet, gentlemen, as you avow yourselves the friends of mankind, no circumstances ought to deter you from your duty in this respect. There are times and occasions when to be silent on these topics would be criminal and base in the highest degree. There are times and occasions when you ought to lift up your voice like a trumpet, in the cause of your God and your country; and call all the man, all the patriot, and all the Christian forth!

In such a grand cause much circumspection will be required, and there are innumerable ways by which it may be betrayed. Ignorance may be fatal to it. An over-heated zeal or timid caution may equally hurt it. Power may controul or seduce you; the fumes of popularity may intoxicate you; or should your virtue be proof against these trials, yet conjunctures may happen, so critically circumstanced, as to puzzle the ablest head and soundest heart. Tyranny may sometimes wear the face of justice; licen