been faid to fuffer, were no way injured; and that of those who have been actually bitten, not one in an hundred was bit by a mad dog. Such accounts in general, therefore, only ferve to make the people miferable by falfe terrors, and fometimes fright the patient into actual phrenzy, by creating those very symptoms they pretend to deplore.

But even allowing three or four to die in a fea fon of this terrible death, (and four is probably too. large a conceffion,) yet still it is not confidered how many are preserved in their health and in their property by this devoted animal's fervices. The midnight robber is kept at a distance; the infidious thief is often detected; the healthful chafe repairs many a worn conftitution; and the poor man finds. in his dog a willing affiftant eager to leffen his toil, and content with the smallest retribution.

"A dog," fays one of the English poets, "is an honest creature, and I am a friend to dogs." Of all the beafts that graze the lawn, or hunt the foreft, a dog is the only animal that, leaving his fellows, attempts to cultivate the friendship of man; to man he looks in all his neceffities, with a fpeaking eye, for affiftance; exerts, for him, all the little, fervice in his power of chearfulness and pleafure: for him, bears famine and fatigue with patience and refignation; no injuries can abate his fidelity; no diftrefs induce him to forfake his benefactor: ftu-. dious to please, and fearing to offend, he is still an, humble, ftedfast dependent; and in him, alone, fawning is not flattery. How unkind, then, to torture this faithful creature, who has left the forest

to

to claim the protection of man! How

return to the trufty animal for all its fe

ESSAY

XIV.

Love of Life; that it increafes with

AG

GE, that leffens the enjoyment creafes our defire of living. Tho which, in the vigour of youth, we had defpife, affume new terrors as we grow caution increafing as our years increase comes at last the prevailing paffion of t and the fmall remainder of life is taken lefs efforts to keep off our end, or prov continued existence.

Strange contradiction in our nature which even the wife are liable! If I fho of that part of life which lies before me which I have already feen, the profpect is Experience tells me, that my paft enjoym brought no real felicity; that those I have felt,

and fenfation af are ftronger tha Yet experience

which are yet to come. fation in vain perfuade; hope, more power either, dreffes out the diftant prospect in beauty; fome happiness, in long perfpect beckons me to purfue; and, like a lofing g every new disappointment increases my an continue the game.

Whence then is this increased love of life grows upon us with our years? whence co that we thus make greater efforts to prefe

existence, at a period when it becomes fcarce worth the keeping? Is it that Nature, attentive to the prefervation of mankind, increafes our wishes to live, while the leffens our enjoyments? and, as fhe robs the senses of every pleasure, equips imagination in the spoils? Life would be infupportable to an old man, who, loaded with infirmities, feared death no more than in the vigour of manhood: the numberless calamities of decaying Nature, and the confcioufnefs of furviving every pleasure, would at once induce him, with his own hand, to terminate the scene of mifery: but, happily, the contempt of death forfakes him at a time when it could only be prejudicial; and life acquires an imaginary value, in proportion as its real value is

no more.

Our attachment to every object around us increases, in general, from the length of our acquaintance with it. "I would not choose," fays a French philofopher," to fee an old poft pulled up with which I had been long acquainted." A mind long habituated to a certain fet of objects, infenfibly becomes fond of seeing them; vifits them from habit, and parts from them with reluctance. From hence proceeds the avarice of the old in every kind of poffeffion: they love the world, and all that it produces; they love life and all its advantages; not because it gives them pleasure, but because they have known it long.

Chinvang the Chaste, afcending the throne of China, commanded that all who were unjustly detained in prifon, during the preceding reigns,

fhould

3

should be fet free. Among the number who came, to thank their deliverer on this occafion, there ap peared a majestic old man, who, falling at the em-peror's feet, addreffed him as follows: Great fa"ther of China, behold a wretch, now eighty-five "years old, who was shut up in a dungeon at the 66 age of twenty-two. I was imprifoned though a. "ftranger to crime, or without being even con"fronted by my accufers. I have now lived in "folitude and in darkness for more than fifty years, "and am grown familiar with distress. As yet "dazzled with the fplendour of that fun to which 66 you have restored me, I have been wandering "the streets to find out fome friend that would af"fift, or relieve, or remember me: but my friends, "my family, and relations, are all dead, and I am. "forgotten. Permit me then, O Chinvang, to wear σε out the wretched remains of life in my former " prison: the walls of my dungeon are to me more "pleafing than the most fplendid palace. I have "not long to live, and fhall be unhappy except I fpend the rest of my days where my youth was "paffed; in that prifon from whence you were pleased to release me.'

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The old man's paffion for confinement is fimilar to that we all have for life. We are habituated to the prison, we look round with difcontent, are difpleased with the abode, and yet the length of our captivity only increafes our fondness for the cell.. The trees we have planted, the houses we have built, or the pofterity we have begotten, all ferve to bind us clofer to the earth and embitter our parting.

Life fues the young like a new acquaintance: the companion, as yet unexhaufted, is at once instructive and amufing; its company pleases: yet, for all this it is but little regarded. To us, who are declined in years, life appears like an old friend; its jefts have been anticipated in former conversation: it hath no new ftory to make us fmile, no new improvement with which to surprise; yet ftill we love it: deftitute of every enjoyment, ftill we love it; husband the wafting treasure with increasing frugality, and feel all the poignancy of anguish in the fatal feparation.

Sir Philip Mordaunt was young, beautiful, fincere, brave, an Englishman. He had a complete fortune of his own, and the love of the king his master, which was equivalent to riches. Life opened all her treasures before him, and promised a long fucceffion of happiness. He came; tafted of the entertainment, but was difgufted even at the beginning. He profeffed an averfion to living; was tired of walking round the fame circle; had tried every enjoyment, and found them all grow weaker at every repetition.. "If life be, in youth, fo difpleafing," cried he to himself, "what will it appear when age comes on?. "If it be at prefent indifferent, fure it will then be "execrable." This thought embittered every reflection; till at last, with all the ferenity of perverted reafon, he ended the debate with a piftol! Had this felf-deluded man been apprized, that existence grows more defirable to us the longer we exift, he would then have faced old age without shrinking; he would have boldly dared to live; and served that fociety by his future affiduity, which he basely injured by his desertion.

ESSAY