1811.

A

and

Hoc est vivere bis vita posse priore frui.

MARTIAL.

GOOD new year to you gentle reader, many happy returns of the season. May thy reflections on the times that are past be sweet and consoling to thy heart; may futurity present her fairest prospects to thy mind's eye; and may all thy intended schemes and pursuits be dictated and governed by prudence, candour, and benevolence:

Before this paper reaches your hand, the days set apart by ancient custom for festivity and mirth will have expired; and, like the fleeting years which have already gone over your head, will have left nothing more substantial on the mind, than the shadows of an airy dream. Reflection will again have resumed her calm and regulating sway in your bosom, either to pierce it with the stings of remorse, or cheer it by the exhilirating balm of self-approbation. That these reflections may be directed to objects which concern your peace and happiness, is the Spy's warmest wish; and to that desirable end he dedicates this day's paper.

The conclusion of a year presents itself, as one of those occasions, on which it is almost impossible to resist some intrusions of a thoughtful mind. It is by years we estimate the length of human life; the account is not long in

No. XIX.

any of us, and when we arrive at a number which is not very great, experience tells us, that it is hardly possible we shall live to double it. But we may hope there is yet time to amend what has been done amiss, and to render the evening of life correspondent to the bright morning when our day commenced.

Whether it be that life has more vexations than comforts; or that evil makes deeper impression than good, it is certain, that few can review the time past without heaviness of heart. He remembers many calamities incurred by folly-many opportunities lost by negligence. The shades of the dead rise up before him, and he laments the companions of his youth—the partners of his amusements-the assistants of his labours, whom the hand of fate hath snatched away. It is said of Themistocles, that when an offer was made to him of teaching him the art of memory, he answered, that he would rather wish for the art of forgetfulness. He felt his imagination haunted by phantoms of misery, which he was unable to suppress; and would gladly have calmed his thoughts with some oblivious antidote. In this we all resemble one another: the hero and the sage are, like vulgar mortals, overburdened by the weight of life; often feel more keenly the pangs of remorse, and wish, more

But regret is really useful and virtuous, and not only allowable, but necessary, when it tends to the amendment of life; or to admonition of error which we may be again in danger of committing. It would perhaps be of advantage to us, if our recollections were even more keen, and of longer duration than they generally are; for a very small part of the moments spent in meditation on the past, produce any reasonable caution or salutary sorrow. Most of the mortifications that we have suf fered, it is likely, arose from the concurrence of local and temporary circumstances, which can never meet again; and most of our disappointments have succeeded those expectations, which life allows not to be formed a second time.

The human mind is modelled in such a manner, that it naturally flies from unpleasant recollections; if it were not so, its felicity would be marred, and the happiness of man, which the Creator of the universe delights in, constantly annoyed. We may in poetical fictions, or by using the language, and cherishing the ideas of the sentimental poets, amplify the grief we feel for past happy days; but in reality the pain we suffer is of no longer duration. When we recollect a wicked action, it covers us with shame, and we wish to forget it; but the immediate effect is to incite us to balance it by some exertion of goodness. When we recollect where we have been foolish and imprudent, we still feel a lively impression of our disappointment; but the acquisition made to our wisdom and experience is such, as to reconcile us to ourselves;

But there is one thing in particular, which I wish the Spy and all his readers could be constantly guarded against.It is a discontented and unthankful disposition. Persons of this unhappy turn of mind, are indeed delighted neither with the past, the present, nor the fu ture. Imagining that the world ought to have been pliant to their schemes, and meeting with frequent disappointments, they spend most part of their time in recounting what they have done and suffered-in murmuring at every dispensation of providence-and in magnifying their own wisdom and goodness, which they think deserved a better reward. How unfortunate that they do not consider, that a discontented and unthankful spirit is itself a crime; and that they who overlook the favours of fortune, do not deserve a continuance of them. But when all the pains we suffer from the powers of recollection are concentrated in one, it will appear very light and trifling indeed, when compared with the many pleasures memory affords of the intellectual kind, which are so various, extensive, and delightful, that they advance a polished and upright heart as near to the idea of perfection as any human and fallible being is capable of.

In reflecting upon the scenes of the year just concluded, it will not escape any one, that it has been chequered with numerous vicissitudes, that have befallen those who had a part in our esteem, or our affection. Nor is it less obvious, that such occurrences are a

striking confirmation of the shortness of time, and of how little avail it is, to labour and toil to excess for that upon which we can place no rational depend

ance.

More absurd yet will it appear, to have sacrificed our principles to the attainment of objects that yield so precarious a satisfaction. Better far is it to consider, that as time is short, it ought to be husbanded so, as that we in future may have some consolation in reflecting upon the manner in which it has been spent ; and as it is uncertain, in providing, that we may not be unprepared or appalled, should we be called to leave life in the midst of our most engaging schemes.

It will, perhaps, be argued, that it is the duty of the divine, not of the Spy, to point out the urgent necessity of a speedy reformation in life and manners; but as I am so little addicted to serious reflections in general, I hope to be forgiven for essaying to offer a few at this important season; especially if it be considered, that I can never have the opportunity of offering them to all my readers again. Long ere the conclusion of this year which is now commenced, many of them will be lodged in the house of silence, and perhaps the writer of this humble epistle among them. Many divines have already, with great strength and ardour, shewn the danger of delaying reformation; yet what ef fects have all these produced? The sentiment of Seneca is still as applicable as ever-Nunquam nimis dicitur, quod nunquam satis dicitur. The mite of the poor man, who has nothing else to give towards the accomplishment of this laudable end, will surely then be accepted with gratitude.

The too frequent practice of neglect.. ing the amendment of that in our life which we are sensible is wrong, is a more desperate degree of folly than we are generally aware of, as it sets eternity to hazard. It is the same weakness, in proportion to the importance of the neglect, to transfer any care, which now claims our attention, to a future time. We subject ourselves to needless dangers from accidents, which early diligence would have obviated; or perplex our minds by vain precautions, and make provision for the execution of designs, of which the opportunity, once missed, will never return. As he that lives longest lives but a little while, every man may be certain that he has no time to waste. The duties of life are commensurate to its duration; and every day brings its task, which, if neglected, is doubled on the morrow. But he that has already trifled away those months and years, in which he should have laboured, must remember that he has now only a part of that remaining of which the whole is little.

When we take a survey of the revolutions and changes, which have taken place in kingdoms and states during the last year, we see few reasons tending to induce us to join with those who are of opinion, that the state of mankind is verging towards perfection; and that perfection of purity and happiness may be accomplished in this life by political institutions. The same contempt for Christianity-for its votaries, its ministers, and its advocates, is yet awfully visible, and still continuing to increase; of which the conversation and manners, as well as the publications of the present day, are evi

dences too plain to be denied. The evidences of our religion, though often, and most ably vindicated; and all the cheering consolations which it holds out to the unfortunate, are still disregarded, for the miserable sophistry of men, who have the ingenuity to stagger the weak, and to gratify the licentious; whose interest it is, not only to say, but to believe there is no God, who seeth them, or taketh cognizance of their

actions.

This is a most deplorable feature of the present time, and I am compelled to add, a most disgraceful one; especially when it gains ground in a country where the blessings of religion have been felt for so many centuries, and where historical proof may be produced, that the happiness and well-being of individuals have been by its means promoted in a higher degree, than in any other nation of the world. What argument is it against religion, that there are so many who do not practise its doctrines; or that men in high and fashionable life generally disregard it? These constitute not the majority of a society, nor, in this case, the respectability of it. What is it to religion, that it has been made the apology for persecution, and the pretext for tyranny? Or that some of those societies where it is most seriously professed, have swerved from its precepts? Is there in all this the shadow of an argument against it, or against any one thing that can be demonstratively proved to be good in itself: and we may depend upon this as a fact, that those who deny Christianity, have either studied only one side of the argument, or else they have never studied it at all;

but men that are prepared from their habits of life, or nations that are influenced by motives of convenience, to get rid of the obligations of religion, it is no difficult matter to persuade them that it is all a farce, and the clergy the authors and actors of it.

Before I dismiss this subject, I would recommend one single consideration. It is, which of the two theories is best calculated to elevate and delight the faculties of the soul, either on a retrospection of our past life, or a contemplation of that awaiting us; for in that all real pleasure consists: and which of the two is most consistent with every principle deducible from reason or nature?Whether that of him whose notions are stinted to a few miserable inlets of sense; or he whose sentiments are raised above the common taste, by the anticipation of those delights which will satisfy the soul when the whole capacity of her nature is branched out into new faculties?-Whether his who looks for nothing, nor thinks of ought beyond this short span of duration, or that of him whose aims are extended coeval with eternity? Are our spirits derived from crude elements? or are they vital, and everlasting sparks of light and life, inspired by an almighty Creator?

If we take a view of the events which have taken place in our national affairs, during the last year; and consider the prospects which these naturally lead to; it will, or at least it should, influence us to turn our eyes to him "in whose hands are the hearts of all the children of men, and who as the rivers of water turneth them whithersoever he pleaseth;" and to rely on him for the protection of those laws and liberties, which