erms do not with propriety enough
express my ideas. The grave I shall cast into the usual division of
those who are goaded on by the love of money, and those whose darling
wish is to make a figure in the world. The merry are the men of
pleasure of all denominations; the jovial lads, who have too much fire
and spirit to have any settled rule of action; but, without much
deliberation, follow the strong impulses of nature: the thoughtless,
the careless, the indolent--in particular _he_ who, with a happy
sweetness of natural temper, and a cheerful vacancy of thought, steals
through life--generally, indeed, in poverty and obscurity; but poverty
and obscurity are only evils to him who can sit gravely down and make
a repining comparison between his own situation and that of others;
and lastly, to grace the quorum, such are, generally, those whose
heads are capable of all the towerings of genius, and whose hearts are
warmed with all the delicacy of feeling.

* * * * *

_August._

The foregoing was to have been an elaborate dissertation on the
various species of men; but as I cannot please myself in the
arrangement of my ideas, I must wait till farther experience and nicer
observation throw more light on the subject.--In the mean time I shall
set down the following fragment, which, as it is the genuine language
of my heart, will enable anybody to determine which of the classes I
belong to:

There's nought but care on ev'ry han',
In ev'ry hour that passes, O.[150]

As the grand end of human life is to cultivate an intercourse with
that BEING to whom we owe life, with every enjoyment that
renders life delightful; and to maintain an integritive conduct
towards our fellow-creatures; that so, by forming piety and virtue
into habit, we may be fit members for that society of the pious and
the good, which reason and revelation teach us to expect beyond the
grave, I do not see that the turn of mind, and pursuits of such a one
as the above verses describe--one who spends the hours and thoughts
which the vocations of the day can spare with Ossian, Shakspeare,
Thomson, Shenstone, Sterne, &c.; or, as the maggot takes him, a gun, a
fiddle, or a song to make or mend; and at all times some heart's-dear
bonnie lass in view--I say I do not see that the turn of mind and
pursuits of such an one are in the least more inimical to the sacred
interests of piety and virtue, than the even lawful, bustling a