of moderating
desire, exert all the power of their eloquence, to shew that happiness
is not the lot of man, and have, by many arguments and examples, proved
the instability of every condition by which envy or ambition are
excited. They have set before our eyes all the calamities to which we
are exposed from the frailty of nature, the influence of accident, or
the stratagems of malice; they have terrified greatness with
conspiracies, and riches with anxieties, wit with criticism, and beauty
with disease.

All the force of reason, and all the charms of language, are indeed
necessary to support positions which every man hears with a wish to
confute them. Truth finds an easy entrance into the mind when she is
introduced by desire, and attended by pleasure; but when she intrudes
uncalled, and brings only fear and sorrow in her train, the passes of
the intellect are barred against her by prejudice and passion; if she
sometimes forces her way by the batteries of argument, she seldom long
keeps possession of her conquests, but is ejected by some favoured
enemy, or at best obtains only a nominal sovereignty, without influence
and without authority.

That life is short we are all convinced, and yet suffer not that
conviction to repress our projects or limit our expectations; that life
is miserable we all feel, and yet we believe that the time is near when
we shall feel it no longer. But to hope happiness and immortality is
equally vain. Our state may indeed be more or less embittered as our
duration may be more or less contracted; yet the utmost felicity which
we can ever attain will be little better than alleviation of misery, and
we shall always feel more pain from our wants than pleasure from our
enjoyments. The incident which I am going to relate will shew, that to
destroy the effect of all our success, it is not necessary that any
signal calamity should fall upon us, that we should be harassed by
implacable persecution, or excruciated by irremediable pains: the
brightest hours of prosperity have their clouds, and the stream of life,
if it is not ruffled by obstructions, will grow putrid by stagnation.

My father, resolving not to imitate the folly of his ancestors, who had
hitherto left the younger sons encumbrances on the eldest, destined me
to a lucrative profession; and I, being careful to lose no opportunity
of improvement, was, at the usual time in which young men enter the
world, well qualified for the exercise of