n he has attained it, an end more
distant invites him to a new pursuit.

It does not, indeed, always happen, that diligence is fortunate; the
wisest schemes are broken by unexpected accidents; the most constant
perseverance sometimes toils through life without a recompense; but
labour, though unsuccessful, is more eligible than idleness; he that
prosecutes a lawful purpose by lawful means, acts always with the
approbation of his own reason; he is animated through the course of his
endeavours by an expectation which, though not certain, he knows to be
just; and is at last comforted in his disappointment, by the
consciousness that he has not failed by his own fault.

That kind of life is most happy which affords us most opportunities of
gaining our own esteem; and what can any man infer in his own favour
from a condition to which, however prosperous, he contributed nothing,
and which the vilest and weakest of the species would have obtained by
the same right, had he happened to be the son of the same father?

To strive with difficulties, and to conquer them, is the highest human
felicity; the next is, to strive, and deserve to conquer: but he whose
life has passed without a contest, and who can boast neither success nor
merit, can survey himself only as a useless filler of existence; and if
he is content with his own character, must owe his satisfaction to
insensibility.

Thus it appears that the satirist advised rightly, when he directed us
to resign ourselves to the hands of Heaven, and to leave to superior
powers the determination of our lot:

_Permittes ipsis expendere Numinibus, quid
Conveniat nobis, rebusque sit utile nostris:--
Carior est illis homo quam sibi._ JUV. Sat. x. 347.

Intrust thy fortune to the Pow'rs above:
Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant
What their unerring wisdom sees the want.
In goodness as in greatness they excel:
Ah! that we lov'd ourselves but half so well. DRYDEN.

What state of life admits most happiness, is uncertain; but that
uncertainty ought to repress the petulance of comparison, and silence
the murmurs of discontent.

No. 115. TUESDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1753.

_Scribimus indocti doctique._ HOR. Lib. ii. Ep. i. 17.

All dare to write, who can or cannot read.

They who have attentively considered the history of mankind, know that
every age has its peculiar character. At one time, no desire is felt but
for military honours; every