what has already been insisted on, the criminality of a merely useless life, few men are so completely isolated as not to be connected by ties of some kind with their brethren of mankind, and from those connexions duties must arise, the neglect of which must be productive of mischief. Our life, our strength, our faculties, our fortune, are not exclusively our own; but friends, children, neighbours, country, have an undeniable claim upon them; and if we squander them away in selfish gratifications, we not merely entail unnumbered ills upon ourselves, but rob these many claimants of their due. Seldom, however, is this all the mischief; for seldom can the voluptuary pursue his own gratification without involving others in his guilt; and those excesses which are harmless to himself, may prove the ruin of those whom he misleads. How fraught with every evil are the vile seducer's arts! How often have they inflicted in the breast of domestic affection a pang more poignant far than death itself could cause! -how often driven their lovely victim to the lowest depths of vice and misery! And what but the prevailing practice of licentious pleasure, supports and perpetuates the horrid trade of those unhappy beings, who haunt the dark 2 recesses of every populous town? Besides, how knows the voluptuary what may be his conduct in those moments when reason shall have lost its power to restrain him? How knows he what mischiefs he may not commit in the temporary madness of brutal intoxication; to what desperate expedients he may not be driven, when his prodigality has involved him in embarrassment; or what crimes he may not perpetrate, when rivals cross his path, and thwart his schemes of pleasure? The tragedies of life have often proved that licentious pleasure and deeds of bloodshed are not far more remote from one another. The foregoing observations, though apparently applicable only to those who cast off all restraint, and riot in all the excesses of illicit pleasure, contain, nevertheless, some lessons of instruction useful to all; for who is there that is not liable to yield too much to the demands of appetite? We must not imagine that we keep within the bounds of temperance by merely avoiding the grosser extremes of sensual indulgence. The luxurious mode of living which prevails among the higher and middling classes of society, leads many to be guilty of habitual, though less obvious intemperance, which it is the more necessary to point out and reprobate, as it is an error which too commonly escapes the notice of those who are guilty of it. They crowd the day with a needless number of meals; they load their tables with a superfluous variety of food; they pamper appetite with a succession of dainties, regarding what is palatable more than what is wholesome; and thus, though they never very far exceed the bounds of moderation, yet by daily exceeding them a little, they slowly undermine the constitution, and bring upon themselves, more slowly indeed, but not less surely, than by flagrant intemperance, that invariable scourge of the slaves of appetite, a diseased and enervated frame. "When I behold," says Addison, "a fashionable table set out in all its magnificence, I fancy that I see gouts and dropsies, fevers and lethargies, with other innumerable distempers, lying in ambuscade among the dishes."* It will not be denied that the human frame may be supported in vigour by a much smaller quantity of food than most persons are in the habit of taking; and it is reasonable to suppose that whatever is taken beyond what nature requires, can *Spectator. No. 195. mours. only serve to clog and impede the animal functions, and generate a variety of noxious hu-. And if we consider how much the spirits and temper are affected by the state of the body, more especially by those disorders which invariably arise from pampered appetite, a strict attention to the rules of temperance will appear of no small moment to our virtue and our happiness. The second class of pleasures, which includes what are usually termed amusements, though not so gross in their nature, nor so fatal in their consequences when carried to excess, as the pleasures of appetite, demand yet much limitation and restraint. The nature of these pleasures may easily be understood by referring to the foregoing history of human affections. They all arise from that love of action and excitement which has been pointed out as one of our natural principles; some consisting chiefly in bodily action, as the sports of the field and other athletic exercises; others consisting entirely in mental excitement, as games of chance or skill, reading, company, theatrical entertainments, and the pursuits of taste. These pleasures the strictest morality cannot with reason entirely prohi bit. Enjoyed in moderation, they are not merely allowable, but useful and desirable, as a needful relief from sedentary or studious occupations. But this purpose itself implies the necessity of great restraint in their indulgence, as it is obvious, that, when made a primary object of pursuit, they assume an entirely different character. It is almost essential, indeed, to their being enjoyed as pleasures, that they should be only occasionally and sparingly tasted; for as it is only after labour that rest can be truly enjoyed, so amusement can afford but little gratification, unless we are prepared for it by previous occupation. A state of excitement, moreover, is necessarily, in its own nature, transient; and if the intervals between the periods of excitement be not employed in serious and useful pursuits, they will assuredly be intervals of ennui, and peevishness, and misery. With respect to consequences, excessive indulgence in this class of pleasures, though not so fatal to health as excess in sensual pleasure, is often not less injurious to fortune, nor less pernicious in its influence upon character. But as these pleasures are of various kinds, the subject requires that they should be considered separately; and they may be treated of under the following |