The Mirrour — Concord, N.H., 1792-09-06 00:00:00, page 4

^■ggesses^^ I "■Wie*
the PIERIDES.
' PETER PINDAR,
Nativity?'^^g bi: Odes /$ Mr. Paine, and bis
fatidicalJollies againJlJome of the French ' a la
lantern' expeditions, bos alwaysfairn bimfelj
afriend to rational Liberty. And in bis loft
work, be thus addreffs, the Champion of
Aristocracy, Mr. Burke :
/\ Burke ! behold fair liberty advancing,
(, Truth, Wit, and Humour, sporting iii
her train, [dancing,
Behold them happy, singing, laughing,
Proud of a golden age again !
When all thy friends, (thy friends of late I
mean) , (Queen,
- Shall, flush'd with conquest, meet their idol
'Be Goddess, at whole flirine a world
would kneel: (dame,
When they with forigs of triumph hail the
Will not thy cheek be dafli'd with deepest
, fb.'me .•
And conscience somewhat startled feel ;
Ah ! will thine eye a gladsome beam display;
Borrow from fmoothe hypodrify a ray,
to hail the long defir'd return ;
Speak,wiltthen screw into a smile thy mouth,
And welcome Liberty, with wit and truth,
And Io: amoment leave thy gang to mourn ?
Yes, thou wilt greet her with a half-forc'd
smile,
Quitting thy virtues company a while,
To fay, " Dear madam, welcome ! how
d'ye do ?"
And then the dame will answer with a dip,
Scotn in her eye, contempt upon her lip,
" Not much the better, Mr. Burke, for
-^out (pain,
Poor Burkel I read thy foul, and feel thy
" Go join the fyeophants that I disdain."
Advice to m, fellow Juft rers, ibe late One-hoffe
Chaifemen, on ^Election.
"T7E, who have lately loll'd, in easy chaise
land one,
Ana now must walk,oroide Old Grey or Dun,
Enquire, when wheels were tax'd, (to mend
your fare,) (bate,
When Patriots, spokesmen were in the de-
And get this aft a promise to revoke,
Or fut into each spokesman's wheel a (poke.
Rusticus.
==™**i«i^^
VITULA's BANQUET. _
A Gentleman being jolted by a sailor, vo
tiferated, that he would give him a
flogging. Nd, fays the son of Neptune,
—y^ 4h£n?t give it to. me, I will rn^rn it,
and pay i#/ergf besides.
—=—
T) ENSERADE, the French poet, met a
gentleman, whom be had frequently
rallied on the score of matrimonial impo
tency. Sir, fays the man, in spite of all
yourffarcafms, my wife is delivered of two
, fine boys. Dear friend, replies Benferade,
•the oWitiet of your wife I never disputed.
Johnson, being in company white
an ingenious infidel was highly praif
cd, that it did not become any man to com
'mend talents so ill employed. Allow him
the /r/%iercj, said one of the company. I do,
retorts Johnson, but no more than to light,
: him to Tofat,
.—•—:—
A ™ elderly gentleman, who wore a large
4", white wig, had been out late on Sat
urday evening, in & summer time. Next
day he attended publick worship, and for his
own comfort, as be was rather corpulent, he
Seated himfelf in the ile of the, church, near
ihe door, before which were a number of
Iheep feeding, among ^rhich was a large
Ram,who was an old warrior. While the par
son was engaged for the good of his foul, the
old gentleman was fleepihg for the jefrefh
ment of his body—As he fat facing the door,
•modding in his sleep, the old Ram observed
it, and mistaking the wig for thehead of an
antagomft, and the nodding, for signs of
battle, began to shake his head, and drew
back tortproper distance for a rencounter,
When our hero making a very low nod, the
Ram, supposing the enemy advancing, met
him full butt, and sent him howling half
way to the pulpit, knocking off his wig ; the
sudden interruption did not a little foil the
minister, and divert the audience; but what
added to the diversion, the old man recover
ing his legs as soon as possible, gathered up!
his wig, and putting it on the tail beforeJ
and again took his feat, but did not difeover
his mistake till service was ended.
^fyfotiral de Retz cells us, that in
the adminift rations of Mazarine (al
most as oppressive and wicked.a
router as has ever appeared) a pea
fane riding upon a lean and half Carv
ed mote, at every falfe step the poor
taft made, cuffed Cardinal Maza
.Tine: upon which he afed what con
'ra mtorfier' " The Cardinal " renli I
'ed the fellow, “ is the foie, the only
cause of the jade Rumbling ; he has
taxed barley—barley is my bread's
r[provender ; this tax makes me una
-1 ble to feed it as before ; want of
good food makes it weak, and weak
fnefs produces (tumbling; iwcxi,
thousand curses light on the Cardinal !
'™^=™=™=!°====™^~d!b*!Q
'MISCELLANY.
ON TEMPERANCE.
By John Gro/e, F. A. S.
I, -—
, " Non Jaffidentem multa vacaveris reße beatum.
: " Reflius Gccupat nomen beati, qui deoram
" Muntridusfopienter uti."
NATURE, extensive in its desires,
; needs a rational reftramt, in order to
preserve decency and decorums So
, boundlefsin its aims, and vast in its
pursuits, is the mind of man, that
tame limit is abfolotely necessary.
Society would be wholly set slide, and
anarchy alone prevail, did not Tempe
rance sway its golden feeptre, and
moderate our desires and inclinations.
The philofopners, sensible of the com
fort anting from the due obfervarice
of this rule, were pleased to rank it
among their highest virtues. Certain
it is, from nature and right reason, that
the mental and corporeal benefit of
• mankind is herein essentially concern
ed. It is mentioned, concerning So
crates, that he Was so temperate, that
in all the plagues of Athens, he alone
escaped Passion, being irrational.—
Temperance, as rational, moderates.
Present enjoyment, and future obli
vion, are great oppofers of this virtue ;
and the vague idea of fruition is ad
duced to compensate for all evil con
sequences. Tlfe mistaken notions we
in general form of pleasure, and our
anticipations of future benefit, are too
immoderate to answer our expecta
tions ; the former proves icfeffylied
to sorrow, and the fatter often iffees
in disappointment, f
Temperance isa medium in all
things, and opposed to extremes in a
ny thing. To treat of this virtue
more particularly, I (hall include the
following things :—Sobriety opposed
to inebriation arid gluttony,—conti
nence to lust, —mildness to anger,—
modesty to presumption,--mediocrity
between hope and defpair,— modera
tion in opposition to extremes.
Sobriety is doubtless commenda
ble in all, though despised by many.
Nothing is a greater disgrace to hu
manity than intemperance and excels
since they impair our reason, and re
duce mankind to a level with the
brute, not knowing when nature is
fatisfed. Itis allo an abuse of the
goodness of Providence, that so plen
tifully supplies our wants. Exclusive
of the evil and wickedness, it is an es
sential injury co our bodies and highly
deftruaive of our health and comfort.
It unfits for all society, and entails nu
merous diseases.—Sobriety then is. the
best policy, both for our corporeal
and mental inttreft ; for want of the
due observance of this moral rule of
condu&, sense, learning, and abilities,
are too often immersed in brutal stu
pidity, and prostituted to the viteft
!purpofes. Man, endued with the fa
culiies of reason, when indulging
theld &fe inclinations, is loft to every
sense of virtue, that his natural facul
ties would promote. Sobriety then
is political, beneficial an&udable.
§ Continence, by the philosophers, is
esteemed a peculiar virtue find chas
tity, no doubt, is highly commenda
ble ; but with refpeft unto the lawful
bonds of the conjugal union, society
is more particularly benefited ; nor
can celibacy, merely on the principles
r depending greatly on circuroftances,
§ and those circomflances in all refpe&
& various, any further enlargement
- would be toutt, unnecessary.
IMildnefs, in opposition to anger,
-must be allowed a governing princi
,ple, well worthy of our notice and re
-1 gard. Anger is a striking proof of
; the veracity and certainty of original
depravity, since it displays itfelf in
.the earliest periods of life, before we
are capable of utterance, or verbal
expression. The dispositions of men
are as various as their persons ; and
their rational faculties equally diverfi
fied. This Ihews the sovereignty of
Deity. Anger is passion unrestrained :
mildness is a restraint upon paffion—
mildnefs is the language of reason,
, and candor is nearly allied. Anger
I is allied to madness, while mildness
>is the friend of wisdom ; reason is ab
ifent while anger reigns—but where
: mildness claims the feeptre, reason
,then returns..
I Modesty comes next in courfe—
.and here we view the ornament of
Inature in its choicest robes. This
virtue is peculiar to women, and no
less an ornament than an honour.
:This, as well as many other virtues, is
: founded on knowledge—and that a
iknowledge of ourselves.
The general reasons that can be
faffigned for the exercise of this ami
. able qualification, are felf-diffidence,
supposed comparative meanness, and
: natural reservedness, arising froma
/proper knowledge of ourselves. We
.never fee a person loft to every sense
,of modesty, and presuming with un
.daunted bold nefs, but we readily im
; pure it to ignorance. It is wrong to
.imagine, that modesty arises from
. Ihame, since shame only can arise
, from guilt. Modesty is a proper re
rftraint on our conduft, and a faithful
)guide in cur deportment ; yet, not
. wichftanding its virtual excllency, it
lis by feme despised, by orhers con
;demned. As it is opposed to ambi
tion,it is a check on our desires. To
Lthe aspiring after honour, riches, and
the like, if endued with modesty, it
, will be found a powerful preventive,
?and rather a hindrance, than aid. In
I the estimation of those whole favour
-is worth our seeking, modesty is no
p fmail recommendation ;—modefty
and merit frequently unite, and
- though the former may procrastinate,
the latter will procure. Another be
nefit arising from this difpofitioh is, a
deliverance from the fear or danger
-of abatement, since modesty must be
;noticed before it will aspire, and pre
sumption often calls aloud for notice,
when contempt alone will frown—
fo that a modest man is certain of
!never being abated, if he is not exalt-
Mediocrity, between hope and
despair, comes next under confidera
tian. Hope is a profpea of femething
desired, though not possessed. Def
- pair is a total annihilation of the for
>mer, & a principle of internal wretch-|
l^chek arising from a criminal incred"
»ulity„ Here then we have in view
I the happy medium. Contentment
, must be the natural effect of this con
- folatory temper. Reason, Epicurus
I tells us, will effed these things, and
it is probable in feme refpeas it may ;
;but there have been instances wherein
even that has failed, A state of me
-diocriry, between hope and despair,
iis deferable, from the following con~
fideration, namely, that it is a deli
;verance from the fear of disappoint-
: ment, or the danger of ^fcontent,
Ufa, in Ihort, an inward solace or
comfort that exceeds in intrinfick
value allthetreafcra of the East. But
there is a rohfohtion derived from a
higher . source, and founded on a no.
^^^7 = F--.• ,
-
, world can neither give nor tak:
;away.
Moderation, in opposition to ex
tremes, no^vprefects itfelf to view.
It ma, justly be laid to be the re
finement of wisdom—the quintessence
of policy-.the ornament of truth—the
laurels of unequalled honour^—the
throne of justice—and the feat of
mercy. So unparalleled is the extent
of this virtue, that there is scarcely
any thing exiting to which it may
not be recommended. It is an uni
versal medium.—A moderate Prince
Chines with undiminished luftre ; a
moderate ftttefman guides the helm
of government with wisdom and dif
erttion ;a moderate General thews
mercy more than vengeance. In our
principles, whether religious or politi
cal,moderation is certainly commenda
ble. Extremes, in matters of religion,
though in this refped revelation is the
only limit, are anthufiaftick and vain,
bordering more on fancy, than truth.
Moderation, in the political prin
ciples of many, would be a very oecef
fary and ufeful ingredient. It is for
want of this virtue, that so many run
such ridiculous lengths into folly and
extreme notions. The old Latin
proverb, in medio tuitffrae ibis, is a
just remark on the folly of extremes
in any thing. Every sentiment extant,
void of moderation/ is risking both
truth and justice. A man who is mo
derate in his desires, is in the way of
fafety, while a contrafled character
constantly exposes itfelf to danger.
Moderation in dress ,is far more
ornamental than extremes ;—the for
mer is confident with decency—the
latter is foppery and effeminacy. Mo
deration in our pleasures, is timing
them to advantage, whereas the ex
treme would issue in ruin. So com-
Iprehenfive is this most rational virtue,
that it equals the force of reason to
!advife, or power to execute. Finally,
it is ^rational, jjniverfal, and bene- _
ficial restraint tn the obftreperoua
ifteed of desire and inclination. Thus
ITemperance includes in it every
thing, that can render our lives com
fortable and happy. The voice of
reason goes a great way, but the
voice of revelation goes still farther.
Temperance needs power infinite
to moderate every natural inclination,
and infinite protedion and guidance
is promised to those who seek it alone
from the original of power itfelf.
Temperance, so extensive in its
benefits, so universally beneficent,"
claims our fleadieft regard, and our
highest admiration.
. —^—^F2*©mtmtm=^R.^=*-——
MAXIM.
The plainest man, if be knows bow to be
silent, may deceive the most cunning.
REFLECTION.
CANNING and artificial men do
'not commonly mistrust those in
whom they perceive simplicity, and
/therefore they do not think them
rfelyes obliged to stand upon their
Iguard : but when a plain mao knows
jhow to be silent, his attentive silence
may afford him the means of furprif
}ing the most artful man, if he has a
)mind to do it. A silent simplicity
^is sometimes as good as a (peaking
crafiinefs.
I.■■.^■■■■■■^■■■>«iii.l —
1 APHORISMS on MAN.
KNOW, in the firft place, that
mankind agree in essence, as
they do in their, limba and fenfer.
Mankind gitter as. much in eflence
t ar they do in form, limbs, and senses;
•and only so, and not more.
: As fo:toc^nq^Vi^!o|iehold -
ier thinks himfeff the centre °UWi
sky ° so Niwie formed her ioyi*iQ<i*
lals that each foeft fee hi^elf the