DISCOURSES ON LAVILA. O fureur <le fc Jiftinguer, que ne pouvcz vous point! I ""HE labour a:id anxiety, the enterprizes, and -*■ adventures, that arc voluntarily underta taken in pur(uit of gain, are ouc of all propor tion to the utility, convenience or pleasure of riches. A competence to satis fy the wants of na ture, food ami deaths, a flielter from the seasons, mid the comforts of a family, may be had for very little. The daily toil of the million, and of millions of millions, is adequate to a complete supply ot these lieceflities and conveniences. "With such accommodations thus obtained, the, appetite is keener, the digestion more easy and perfecft, and repose is more refre(hing, than a inong the molt abundant fuperfluities and the rarefl luxuries. For what reason then, are any mortals averse to the situation of the farmer, mechanic or laborer ? Why do we temptthefeas, and encompass the globe ? Why do any men af front heaven and earth, to accumulate wealth, ■which will forever be useless to them ? Why do we make an ostentatious display of riches ? Why lhould any man be proud of his purse, houses, lands, or gardens? or in better words, why should the rich man glory in his riches ? What connec tion can there be, between wealth and pride ? The answer to all these questions is, because rich es attraCl the attrition, consideration and congratu lations of mankind; it is not because the rich have really more of cafe or pleasure than the poor. Riches force the opinion on a man that he is the object of the congratulations of others ; and he feels that they attract the complaisance of the public. His senses all inform him that his neigh bora have a natural difpofitionto harmonize with all those pleating emotions, and agreeable sensa tions, which the elegant accommodations around him are supposed to excite. His imagination expands, and his heart dilates at these charming illusions : and his attachment to his pofleflions increases, as fact as his desire to accumulate more : notiorthe purposes of bene ficence or utility, but from the desire of illustra tion. Why, on the other hand, should any wan be aihamed to make known his poverty ? Wliy/hould those who have been rich, or educated in the houses of the rich, entertain such an aversion, or be agitated with such terror,at the prospect of los ing their property i Or of being reduced to live at an humbler table ? In a meaner house ? To walk inilead of riding ? Or to ride without their accustomed equipage or reiiniie ? Why do we hear of madness, melancholy and suicides, upon bankruptcy, loss of (hips, or any other sudden fall from opulence to indigence, or mediocrity Alk your reason, what disgrace there can be in poverty ? What moral fentimewt of approbation, praise or honor, can there be in a palace ? What diflionor in a cottage ? What glory in a coacli, what Ihame in a waggon ? Is not the sense of pro priety, and the sense of merit as much conne<fl ed with an empty purse as a full one ? Way not a man be as estimable, amiable and respectable, attended by liis faithful dog, as if preceded and followed by a train of horses and servants > All these questions nray be very wife; and the stoical philosophy has her answers ready. But if you aJk the fame questions cf nature, experience, and mankind, the answers will be diredlly op posite to those of Epiftetus, viz. that there is more refpecftability in the eyes of the greater part of mankind, in the gaudy trappings of wealth than there is in genius or learning, wisdom or virtue. The poor man's conscience is clear ; yet he is a fhained. His character is irreproachable, jet he is negletfted and despised. He feels himfelf out of the fight of others groping in the dark. Man kind takenonotice of hi ui: he rambles and wan ders unheeded. In tlie mid 11 of a croud, at church, in the market, at a play, at an execution, or coronation, he is in as much obfeurity, as he would be in a garret or a cellar. He is not dis approved, censured or reproached : he is only not seen. This total inattention is to him, inor. rifying, painful and cruel. He fufiers a misery from this consideration, which is fliarpened by the consciousness that others have no fellow feel ing with him in this diflrefs. If you follow these ■■erfons however into their scenes of life, you will find that there isa kind of figure which the meanest of then! all, endeavors to make ; a kind of little grandeur and refpeift, which the molt in fignificant, study and labour to procure, in the iinall circle of iheir acquaintances. Not only the poorell mechanic, but the man who lives upon common charity, nay the common beggars in the llreets ; and not only those who may be all inno cent, but even those who have abandoned tliem felves to common infamy as pirates, highway men and common thieves, court a set of admirers, and plume thernlelves on that superiority, which they have, or fancy they, have, over fomc others. There muftbe one indeed who is the lad and low est of the human species. But there is no risque in aflerting that there is no one, who believes and will acknowledge himfelf to be the man. To be wholly overlooked, and to know it, are in No. V. tolerable. Instances of this are not uncommon. When a wretch could no longer attract the notice of a man, woman or child, he must be refpecfta ble in the eyes of his dog. " Who will love me then !" was the pathetic reply of one,who Itarv ed himfelf to feed his maftiff, to a charitable pas senger who advised him to killor lell the animal. In this " who will love me then," there is a key to the human heart ; to the history of human life and manners ; and to the rife and fall of Em pires. To feel ourselves unheeded, chills the mod pleating hope ; damps the molt fond desire; checks the molt agreeable wilh ; disappoints the molt ardent expeiftations of human nature. Is there in fcienceand letters, a reward for the labor they require ? Scholars learn thevdead lan guages of antiquity, as well as the living tongues of modern nations. Those of the east as well as the weft.—They puzzle themselves and others with metaphysics and mathematics. They re nounce their pleaiures, negletfl their exercises, and dellroy their health ; for what ? Is curiosity so strong ? Is the pleafnre that accompanies the pursuit aud acquisition of knowledge so exquisite ? IfCrufoe, on his island, had the library of Alex andria, and a certainty that he Hiould never a gain fee the face »f man, would he ever op£n a volume ? Perhaps he might: but it is very pro bable he would read but little. A feni'e of duty ; a love of truth ; a desire to alleviate the anxie ties of ignorance, may, no doubt, have an influ ence on some minds. But the universal objedi and idol of men of letters is reputation. It is the notoriety, she celebration, which constitutes the charm, which is to compensate the loss of appe tite and sleep, and foinetimes of riches and ho- nors The fame ardent desire of the congratulations of others in our joys, is the great incentive to the pursuit of honors. This might be exemplified in the career of civil and political life. That we may not be too tedious let us inftancein military glory. Is it to be supposed that the regular ltanding armies of Europe, engage in the ser vice, from pure motives of patriotism ? Are their officers men of contemplation and devotion, who expec't their reward in a future life > Is it, from a fen fe of moral, or religious duty, that they risque their lives, and reconcile them (elves to wounds? Inliances of all thele kinds may be found.—But if any one supposes that all or the greater part of these heroes, are actuated by such principles, he will only prove that he is unacquainted with them. Can their pay becon fidered as an adequate encouragement ? This which is no more, than a very simple and mode rate I'ubfiftence, would never be a temptation to renounce the chances of fortune in other pur suits together with the pleasures of domeltic life, and submit to this molt difficult and dange rous employment. No, it is the confideratfon and the chances of laurels, which they acquire by the service. The soldier compares himfelf with his fellows, and contends for promotion to be a Corporal : the Corporals vie with each other to be Serjeants: the Serjeants will mount breaches to beEnfigns: and thus every man in an army is constantly as piring to be something higher, as every citizen in the commonwealth is constantly ltrugglingfor a better rank, that he may draw the observa tion of more eyes. The purchase of Mr. Hafting!s Town-house was not quite io,oool. but the furniture is cosh ly '» the extreme ; and there are fnits for the different seasons. The beds prepared for casual summer visits to the metropolis are of the fineft book muslin, exquisitely wrought, and lined with India diaper, dyed of various colours, and of a peculiarly beautiful texture ; and one set of chairs in particular, which are of carved ivory coft3c>ol. each chair, in India. ' DISINTERESTED GENEROSITY. | HEN Metastasio's circuinftances were far from affluent, and he was only known at Vienna, as a writer for the opera, under Apof toloand Zeno, a person with whom he had con tracted a great intimacy, left him at his death 150001. lterling. But Metaftalio hearing that his friend had relations at Bologna, went thither in search of them ; and having found fucli as he thought best entitled to these pofleffions, told them, that though the deceased had bequeathed to him his whole fortune, he could suppose it to be 110 otherways than in trust, till hefhould find out the moftdeferving of his kindred, in order to divide it equally among them, which he im mediately did, without the least reserve in his own favor. SHAKESPEARE, To the very many editions of our Immortal bard, one is in agitation by the Blue-stockinc Club, which confiits of many of thefirft rate male and female geniuflbs,tobe entitled, " The Ladies The plan of this edition is to be a familiar criticism on the sensibilities, vather than the language or learning of the author—Some what in the stile of Addison's critique on Mil ton to be ufeful to all who have any relilh for the poet, or moral writer. 460 LONDON. THE DEBTOR. ( By Sir John Moore.) CHILDREN of Affluence! hear a poor man's prayer, O haste, and free me from this dungeon's gloom ' Let not the hand of'comfortlefs dclpair, Sink my grey hairs with sorrow to the tomb ! Unus'd Companion's tribute to demand, With clamorous din wake chanty's dull ear, Wring the How aid from Pity's loitering hand, Weave the feign'd tale, or drop the ready tear. Far different thoughts employ'd my early hours, To views of bliss, to scent s of affluence born, The hand of Plcafure ftrew'd my path with flowers And every blefling hail'd my youthful morn. But ah ! how quick the change ! the morning gleam, That chear'd my fancy with her magic rjs*, Fled like the garish pageant of a dream, And sorrow clos'd the evening of my day. Such is the lot of human bliss below, And hope a while the trembling flow'ret rear®, 'Till unforeseen descends the blight of woe, And withers in an hour the pride of years. In evil hour, to fpccious wiles a prey, I truftcd—(whom from faults is always free ?) And the (hort progress of one fatal day, Was all the (pace 'twixt wealth and poverty. Where could I seek for comfort fir for aid ? To whom the ruins of my state commend ? Left to'myfelf, abandon'd and betray'd, Too laie I found the wretched have no friend ! E'en he, amid the reft, the favour'd youth, Whose vows had met thetendereft warm return, Forgot his oaths of constancy and truth, And left my child in solitude to mourn. Pity in vain ilretch'd forth her feeble hand, To guard rhe sacred wreaths by Hymen wove, While pale-eyed Avarice from his fordid stand , Scowl'd o'er the ruins of neglecled love. Though deeply hurt, yet, swayed by decent pride, She hufh'd her sorrows with becoming art, And faintly drove, with lickly smiles, to hide The canker-worm that prey'd upon her heart. Nor blam'd his cruelty— nor wifli'd to hate Whom once (he lov'd—but pitied and forgive, Then unrepining yielded to her fate, And funk in silent anguish to thegrave. Children of affluence! hear a poor man's prayer, O hafle, and free me from this dungeon's gloom Let not the hand of comfortlefs dclpair, Sink my grey hairs with sorrow to the tomb ! THE UNITED STATES. M " I MS but the morning of the world with us, A And Scirnce yet but (beds her orient rays— I fee the age, the happy age, roll on— Bright with the splendours of her mid-day beams" Tho!e beams of virtue, honor, knowledge, truth, That fcatter'd thro' long periods, have illuni'd The happieftdays of Empires, now no more, S«iall meet, and mingle in one glorious blaze— And (hew the world to what i'upernal heights Peace, Laws, and Freedom can exalt mankind ! ADVERTISEMENT. r> Y order of the honorable John Slofs Hobart Esquire, ooeof XV the Jufticcs of the Supreme Court of Tud ,1., W ot New-York. Notice is hereby given to Paul DevrcH, now or late of Long Island, Esquire, an abfeonding debts'r, and to all others whom it may concern; that upon application and duT proof, made to the said Justice, pursuant to an a3 of the kgifla-' turc, entitled " an ast for relief against abfeonding and abfenc debtors," pasTed the fourth day of April, 17 86, by a creditor of the f a ,d Paul Deyrcll, he the said Jufticc has directed all his the laid Paul Deyreil's Elbtc, real and personal, within this State, to be leized; and that unless hefliall discharge his debts within three months after the publication of this notice; all his Eftatertalan4 personal will be fold for the payment and fatisfaftion of hiicre r«!" L D ? lcd at the c "y of New-York, the twenty-feventhday of March, m the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and n.nety March 3,. , aw3m . William Taylor, lias' for Sale, at his EAST-INDIA GOODS STORE, . N °- 3> Queen-St* eet, Aflortment of EAST-INDIA GOODS. „ _Among which are the following Articles: BOOK Muftins 8-4 6-4 5-4 || HUMHUMS, Jackonet do. j| Long Cloths, Hankerchiefs.of various kinds,|| Cadis, C h "» z «. || Seersuckers, Ginghams, || fioglapores. l Variet y of handsome painted MUSLINS. With many other Articles, which will be fold by the Piece or Package, low for cash. A Morning School is opened, by theSubfcriber, for Young Ladiej, at Harmony Hall, ad- Joining the Baptills burying ground, in Gold Street. Hours of atten anceare from 6 till B.—For further particulars, please to en quire of the Public's Obedient Servant, GAD ELY. Young Ladies School which has been kept at No. 2 19 Queen-Street, is removed to the above place. Aeoj-lork, May 8, 1790. James F. Sebor, and Co. Have removed from No. 59, to No. 187, Water-Street, near the Fly-Market, WHERE they negociate all kinds ofPUBLICX EXCHANGE. &c. asufual. new-York, Aprils, 1790. »tf. Moses Rogers, and Co. TTAVE removed their STORE to the New Building, eorocr £ , Golden-Hill and Queen-Street, fronting Burling Slip. Ncw-York t May 5t 1790. and a generous price given for Conti nental, New-Hamplhire, Massachusetts, and lccuritics, of every denomination, by EBENEZER THAYER, jun. No. 59, Watcr-Strc*. New-Yoi,k, April 17, 1790. (psf IHE Ma 1 l Diligence for Philadelphia leaves the Ferry St&irr at Aew-Yo/k, forty minutes after Seven every Morning, exctft Sunday. Dines at Brunjuiick, and reaches Trenton bejore dork.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers