Did he utter a witticism, I was sure to laugh; and if he looked grave, though nobody could tell why, it was mine to groan. By thus conforming myself to his humour, I flattered myself I was making some progress in his good graces, but I was soon undeceived. A man seldom cares much for that which costs him no pains to procure. Whether Germanicus found me a troublesome visiter, or whether he was really displeased with something I had unwittingly said or done, certain it is, that when I met him one day, in company with persons of apparent figure, he had lost all recollection of my features. I called upon him, but Germanicus was not at home. Again and again I gave a hesitating knock at the great man's door. All was to no purpose-he was still not at home. The sly meaning, however, which was couched in the sneer of the servant the last time that, half ashamed of my errand, I made my enquiries at his house, convinced me of what I ought to have known before, that Germanicus was at home to all the world save me. I believe, with all my seeming humility, I am a confounded proud fellow at bottom; my rage at this discovery, therefore, may be better conceived than described. Ten thousand curses did I imprecate on the foolish vanity which led me to solicit the friendship of my superiors, and again and again did I vow down eternal vengeance on my head, if I ever more condescended thus to court the acquaintance of man. To this resolution I believe I shall ever adhere. If I am destined to make any progress in the world, it will be by my own individual exertions. As I elbow my way through the crowded vale of life, I will never, in any emergency, call on my selfish neighbour for assistance. If my strength give way

beneath the pressure of calamity, I shall sink without his whine of hypocritical condolence; and if I do sink, let him kick me into a ditch, and go about his business. I asked not his assistance while living, it will be of no service to me when dead.

Believe me, reader, whoever thou mayest be, there are few among mortals, whose friendship, when acquired, will repay thee for the meanness of solicitation. If a man voluntarily holds out his hand to thee, take it with caution." If thou find him honest, be not backward to receive his proffered assistance, and be anxious, when occasion shall require, to yield to him thine own. A real friend is the most valuable blessing a man can possess, and, mark me, it is by far the most rare. It is a black swan. But, whatever thou mayest do, solicit not friendship. If thou art young, and wouldst make thy way in the world, bind thyself a seven years' apprentice to a city tallow-chandler, and thou mayest in time come to be lord mayor. Many people have made their fortunes at a tailor's board. Periwig-makers have been known to buy their country-seats, and bellows-menders have started their curricles; but seldom, very seldom, has the man who placed his dependence on the friendship of his fellow-men arrived at even the shadow of the honours to which, through that medium, he aspired. Nay, even if thou shouldst find a friend ready to lend thee a helping hand, the moment, by his assistance, thou hast gained some little eminence, he will be the first to hurl thee down to thy primitive, and now, perhaps, irremediable obscurity.

Yet I see no more reason for complaint on the ground of the fallacy of human friendship, than I do for any other ordinance of nature, which may appear to run

counter to our happiness. Man is naturally a selfish creature, and it is only by the aid of philosophy that he can so far conquer the defects of his being, as to be capable of disinterested friendship. Who, then, can expect to find that benign disposition, which manifests itself in acts of disinterested benevolence and spontaneous affection, a common visiter? Who can preach philosophy to the mob?

The recluse, who does not easily assimilate with the herd of mankind, and whose manners with difficulty bend to the peculiarities of others, is not likely to have many real friends. His enjoyments, therefore, must be solitary, lone, and melancholy. His only friend is himself. As he sits immersed in reverie by his midnight fire, and hears without the wild gusts of wind fitfully careering over the plain, he listens sadly attentive; and as the varied intonations of the howling blast articulate to his enthusiastic ear, he converses with the spirits of the departed, while, between each dreary pause of the storm, he holds solitary communion with himself. Such is the social intercourse of the recluse; yet he frequently feels the soft consolations of friendship. A heart formed for the gentler emotions of the soul often feels as strong an interest for what are called brutes, as most bipeds affect to feel for each other. Montaigne had his cat; I have read of a man whose only friend was a large spider; and Trenck, in his dungeon, would sooner have lost his right hand than the poor little mouse, which, grown confident with indulgence, used to beguile the tedious hours of imprisonment with its gambols. For my own part, I believe my dog, who, at this moment, seated on his hinder legs, is wistfully surveying me, as if he was conscious of all that is passing in my mind,-my

dog, I say, is as sincere, and, whatever the world may say, nearly as dear a friend as any I possess; and, when I shall receive that summons which may not now be far distant, he will whine a funeral requiem over my grave more piteously than all the hired mourners in Christendom. Well, well, poor Bob has had a kind master of me, and, for my own part, I verily believe there are few things on this earth I shall leave with more regret than this faithful companion of the happy hours of my infancy.

GYPS.

This place is literally a den of thieves: my bedmaker, whom we call a gyp, from a Greek word signifying a vulture, runs away with every thing he can lay his hands on, and, when he is caught, says he only borrows them. He stole a sack of coals a-week, as regularly as the week came, when first I had fires; but I have stopped the run of this business, by a monstrous large padlock, which is hung to the staple of the bin. His next trick was to bring me four candles for a pound, instead of six; and this trade he carried on for some time, until I accidentally discovered the trick: he then said he had always brought me right until that time, and that then he had brought me fives, but had given Mr. H. (a man on the same staircase) one, because he thought he understood I had borrowed one of him: on inquiring of Mr. H. he had not given him one according to his pretence: but the gentleman was not caught yet, for he declared he had lent one to the bed-maker of Lord B. in the rooms below. His neatest trick is going to the grocer every now and then for articles in your name, which he con

verts to his own use. I have stopped him here, too, by keeping a check-book. Tea, sugar, and pockethandkerchiefs, are his natural perquisites, and I verily believe he will soon be filling his canister out of mine before my face. There is no redress for all this; for if you change, you are no better off: they are all alike. They know you regard them as a pack of thieves, and their only concern is to steal so dexterously that they may not be confronted with direct proof.

THE HAPPIEST STATE.

It is a remark of an ancient philosophical poet (Horace,) that every man thinks his neighbour's condition happier than his own; and, indeed, common experience shows that we are too apt to entertain romantic no ns of absent, and to think meanly of present things; to extol what we have had no experience of, and to be discontented with what we possess. The man of business sighs for the sweets of leisure: the person, who, with a taste for reading, has few opportunities for it, thinks that man's life the sum of bliss who has nothing to do but to study. Yet it often happens that the condition of the envier is happier than that of the envied. You have read Dr. Johnson's tale of the poor Tallow-Chandler, who, after sighing for the quiet of country life, at length scraped money enough to retire, but found his long-sought-for leisure so insupportable, that he made a voluntary offer to his successor to come up to town every Friday, and melt tallow for him gratis. It would be so with half of the men of business who sigh so earnestly for the sweets of retirement; and you may receive it as one of the maturest observations I have been able to make on