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Like want of cementing materials in architecture, their abfence is an effential detriment to the human fabric, in which nothing can be found and lafting without them.

In the same proportion as they are the cherishers of intellectual and moral qualities, and the co-operators in all laudable actions, their contraries are the capital obstructors to every virtue, and the fofter-fires of all depravation.

Temperance is one of those amiable endowments that pleases a'l to the cost of nore, and enfures to the poffeffor a capacity to acquire a' multitude of other valuable qualifications.

Temperance, well understood, is the highest refinement of luxury : by never cloying us, it always keeps our palate on its appetite, and our delires in play; and, like expectation, is itself equal to the pleasure of enjoyment...

Nature is not prone to intempérance. Imagination, heated by the contagion of example, is guilty of drawing us into excesses, much oftener than depravity of taste."

When we reflect on the consequences of intemperance, it is Arangt that we hould, from mere complaisance, lo often fabmit to prejudice ourselves, when no future benefit, or even plea. fure, can be pleaded as a motive. Nothing can more evidently and forcibly demonstrate the power of custom ; and that there is an inherent pliancy, in our make, that will not suffer us to be unlike those whom we frequent.

For this reason, the only certificate of fobriety is to avoid, with abhorrence and deteftation, those who have addicted themselves to habitual revelry: - Many a one would have lived foberly all the days of his life, but for having unfortunately been intimate with only one of this Bacchanalian cait.

He that is once initiated into this tribe, may be looked upon as, a man in a consumption ; from whence feldom any body tecovers.

The preservation of peace in domestic fociety, and that of interior ferenity within ourselves, the two grand points to which human wisdom should steer, äre absolute strangers to that class of mortals : we are more furprized to hear of their meeting peaceably, than of their quarrels and distarbances. : The principal pleasure of life consists in a uniform ténor of content and fatisfaction, nexher swelling to extravagance and ex: cels, nor falling away to apathy and indolence; but persons of this fort are usually either inftated with inadness, or fark in ftupidity,

Intemperance is the sooneft punished of all irregularities : its effects are commonly at no great diflance from their cause : youth

quickly

quickly dwindles into age, by the rapid enervation of the bodily frame, and the fpeedy decay of the mind.

The rewards of fobriety, on the contrary, are of an equal du. ration with our existence; and the fooner they begin, the longer chey last.

The fruits of fobriety are not only remarkable in the ftrength and vigour of body that keep company even with years, but are Atill more minutely conspicuous in the vivacity of soul that enlivens the exertion of our faculties while young, and the genial serenity that emulates the chearfulness of youth in our latter date.

All exterior qualifications, and all interior excellence, depend on temperance, like children on parents for their birth and aourilhment.

As they flow from the just regulation of body and mind, when these are disordered, or by repeated shocks falling to ruin, they must of course be necessarily destroyed ; or, which is much worse, are liable to the most fatal peryerfion': in the same manDer as the unfortunate progeny of the iniquitous are either configned to neglect and milcarry; or, which is still more woeful, are tutored in all the criminal arts of perdition.

Without Sobriety, courage degenerates into ferocity, and proves more detrimental to itself and others, than the baselt cowardice, and the most abject demeanour.

Activity, which, while under the patronage of discretion, moves with security and success ; when unbridled by intemperance, runs wild, and is the more dangerous, in proportion to its owner's averfion to indolence.

Wit and liveliness, the embellishers of society, whenever they break loose from the bonds of decency and decorum, become the most pernicious nuisance, and often occafion more mischief in one hour, than a whole life of dullness could perpetrate.

While we abstain from intemperance, we chearfully pursue the course of our yocation : labour fits lightly upon us, and we begrudge not to submit patiently, and without repining, to the condition which our destiny has assigned to us : in other words, we remain capable of enjoying that portion of happiness which falls to the lot of every human being.

But as soon as we renounce the paths of fobriety, a fatal change is gradually operated : we forget the duties of our calling; our imaginations are elevated above the level of our circumstances ; we fret at our situation, and eavy that of others. As judgement and reflection have no seat in our councils, all is tranfacted according to the whim of the day ; and we go on, en3 M 2

tangling

tangling ourfelves in difficulties and distresses, 'till we fink into irretrievable ruin.

Intemperance, by setting all the passions at liberty, breaks down all the fences of moderation, honour, and honesty ; like an army that mutiajes through relaxation of discipline, and want of abilities in the commanders, every irregular appetite is in. dulged, every evil habit predominates, and confusion inhabits wherever we go.

As where in temperance dwells no safety can refide, the maxim of self defence and preservation expels us from the presence of our acquaintance ; like those fad objects in whom extinctice of reason has kindled a dreadful propensity to all manner of our rageousness.

Commiseration and pity, being only the lawful claim of tảe unhappy, are no more due to those who plunge into the horrors of intemperance, than to a man who rushes upon delruction from wantonness and bravado.

As such a suicide entails contempt on its perpetrator, execration is what these artificers of their own wretchednefs have a ‘right to expect, not only from others, but also from themselves, when want of opportunities or means to banith confideration ob. trudes upon them a lucid interval. Like a severe judge, it pots *the sword of justice into their hands, and forces them to be. come their own executioners.

In the midst of their infamy, as if nature had ordained that they should pronounce their own condemnation, it is common to hear them zealously reprehend in others, that which their very guilt prevents them, through the deprivation of sensibility, from perceiving in themselves.

Such is the fatal tendency of this abominable vice, that it fel. dom fails to produce others : like the head of a gang of male. factors, it is perpetually employed in forming associates.

If it does not affault the traveller on the road, nor break open doors in search of spoil and plander, yet it unlocks the heart, and divulges your secrets with those of your familiars and ac quaintance. Like a ferocious animal, whose untractable na. ture no arts can'tame, and whose very play is dangerous to une a wary caressers, it often, without design, wounds the peace of fa...! milies, blasts the character of persons who might have lived onAtained, but for your indiscretion ; fets friends at variance, ren. ders enmity irreconcileable, and breeds fufpicions, jealoufes, and hatred, wherc the most cordial union had before sublifted. He

Such are the sports and pastimes of men addicted to incemperance. They seldom fail to employ that remnant of capaciry

to discourse, which unluckily survives the death of seafon, in topics which repentance vainly strives to obliterate.

A man whose name is fixed on the list of intemperance, is like one against whom a statute of bankruptcy has been issued ; his character remains doubtful ever after,

Trust and confidence fly from want of sobriety, as travellers from a bad inn, with a resolution never to return.

Like a house of evil fame, which renders its tenants infa. mous, intemperance makes its votaries utterly contemptible.Re. {pect and esteem, like visitors ill used, bid them an everlasting adies; and hoold they (through a wonderful change) reform their conduct, the severe world treats them like repenting proftitutes, and gives no credit to the alteration.

An Account of the LIFE of HENRY IV. ftyled the GREAT,

KING of FRANCE.

[Continued from page 444.] UENRY had not yet entered Brittany, and he only apIl peared there to conquer it. The duke de Merceur, one of the most zealous partizans of the league, made his submission with that province in 1598. Henry availed himself of that pere. grination to set forth the edi&t of Nantes. It was equally of service to the protestants and the prince, who by it procured fo many faithful subjects. The treaty of Vervins, with Philip II. king of Spain, called the Devil of the South, completed the tranquillity of the kingdom. This treaty was very glorious to Henry, who made no cessions, and became quiet poffeffor of all the places of his kingdom. From that time, 'till the king's death, the fate was free from civil and foreign wars, except the expedition of 1600, against the duke of Savoy, on account of the marquisate of Salaces, which turned entirely to the advantage of France. In the year of this expedition, Henry married a Lyons, Mary of Medicis. The year before, he had his mar. riage declared void with Margaret of Valois, and lamented the death of the beautiful Gabrielle d'Eftrees.

In 1602, he renewed the alliance with the Switzers, which had begun under Charles VII. and which fince, from time to time, had been renewed by several of his predecessors. This Ceremony was followed by a grand entertainment, prepared for The deputies, to whose health Henry drank, as to his good friends and allies.

After reducing his people to obedience by arms, his thoughts centered entirely in the care of making them happy. His çir

cumstances

cumstances then enabled him to profecute such a scheme, to worthy of the goodness of his heart, and which ought to be the primary consideration of all sovereigns. He had been unfortu. nate, and flattery had never reached him. But he wanted a mi. nister of abilities to second his views, and he cast his eyes on Sully, his old friend.

Under this minifter, not less intelligent than disinterested, and who knew how to love his country enough to make himself hated by courtiers, Henry foon saw the state arrive at it higheft degree of fplendour. He was still of sufficient power and inflaence to help the Dutch, and make himself mediator between the pope and the Venetians. Sully found not only the means of clearing, in a short time, the excessive debts of the kingdom, bæt also filled with confiderable favings his master's coffers; and yet the people did not feel the busthen of taxation.

'Twas out of these savings that Henry erected fome fuperb edifices. The gallery of the Louvre, the Pont-neuf, and the beginning of the canal of Briare, are his works. The prospe. rity of his subjects was equally his. He loved them to the pitch of saying, that he wilhed the poorest of them “ had a fowl to put into their pot on a Sunday.” And who Tould then think that there could be a monfer" so abominable as to attempt the life of so good a prince ? He was killed by Ravaillac, the 14th of May, 1619, in the 57th year of his age. In him began the reign of the Bourbons.

Some time before his death he was making preparations for a war in Germany, on account of the succession of Juliers and Çleves, which the house of Austria disputed with those of Bran. denburgh and Newburgh. 'Tis pretended, that, defiring to humble the house of Austria, he had conceived the design of forming out of fifteen dominions in Europe a body called the Christian Republic, which should have its laws, council, and ar. mies, and in which the balance of power was to reside, by its uniting against those who might make attempts to break it. But the difficulty of executing to vaft a project, ought to make it to be considered as absolutely chimerical.

Henry IV. had no children by his first wife. By Mary of Medicis he left fix, of which five survived him: Lewis XII. his Successor; Anonyme de Bourbon, who died young : Joho-Baptist Gaston, duke of Orleans ; Elizabeth, married to Philip IV. king of Spain ; Christina, married to Victor Amadeus, prioce of Piedmont, afterwards duke of Savoy; and Henrietta Maria, wife to Charles I. king of Great-Britain. He left three natural children by Gabrielle d'EArees, two by Henrietta de Balzac, one by Jacqueline de Bouillon, and two by Charlotte des Effarts.

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