bour here, and lofe your foul hereafter? Damnation must be your portion except you repent. Permit me therefore, as a lover of your never-dying foul, to intreat you to repent speedily of this deteftable fin. Afk pardon of your offended brother, who no doubt will be ready to forgive you, and pray God to take away your old malevolent heart, and give you a new heart, and renew a right fpirit within you; a heart perfectly to love God and then you'll love your neighbour alfo; which that you may is the earnest prayer of one who ardently withes your foul's falvation.

NEWCASTLE,

16th Sep. 1793. A. JOHNSON, A.M

An ESSAY on NOTHING.

M

Το

ANY are the fubjects upon which a writer may difplay himself, if he poífefs abilities; but if he want them, he had far better write about NOTHING. undertake the investigation of an intricate fubject, without abilities to fupport him, expofes a perfon to the danger of incurring cenfure and contempt; but if he write about NoTHING, he may always be fure of attaining the end propofed, namely that his performance íhall come to NOTHING. Let no one be afraid, from the oddity of the subject, of appearing fingular in the eyes of the world; for fuch is its extenfive nature, that it has afforded employment to above half the authors

that ever wrote fince the creati on.

Divines, philofophers, poets, hiftorians, and critics, have fpent whole lives in elucidating this noble theme, and yet to much concerning it remains to be faid, that in all probability it will employ a great part of mankind till the end of time.

Hildebrandus wrote a learned coniment upon the works of an eminent author, in which he made it appear, that he was acquainted with the rules of fyntax, had learned Greek, and read the works of fome of the ancient fathers; but it was alfo apparent, that for lack of a few grains of fomething more

off':ntia!

effential than all thefe, his work came to NOTHING. After this his next effay was to write a poem in heroic verfe. No fooner had he begun the introduction, than he inftantly fprung aloft amongst the fears, accoits Apollo, Minerva, and fome others of the heavenly refidents; then he defcends to earth, goes 19 far as mount Parnaffus, where he meets with the rules, and takes a drink of a cold 1pring that iffues fomewhere from the fide of the mount. He next advances along a Sequeftered Vale, croffes a Murmuring Brook, and as I recollect, proceeds as far as the Shady Grove. But I fhould weary my readers, as well as myfelf, in purfuing him. Suffice it to fay, that all his atents, defcents, and paregrinations, ended in NOTHING. I make no doubt but numbers of the ferious part of mankind, who are accustomed to form their opinions more from fpeculation than experience, will be furprized that fuch a number of their fellow-creatures thould waite their time in treating on fuch a worthless, infignificant fubject. But the wonder will ceafe, when they confider that the writer derives a great many of his topics from the lives and actions of mankind; of whom we may daily fee a great number inceffantly employed in laborioufly doing NOTHING; confequentlyGood Heavens! interrupts fome furly, illnatured Critic, fitting, with half-clofed eyes, in

an encircling cloud of tobacco-fmoke, where, I pray, will this jargon end?---Juft, Sir, where yours ended before-in NOTHING

AT ALL.

Bowes.

J. H.

The PURSUITS of HAPPINESS. A VISION.

Plant of celeftial feed, if dropt below,

Say in what mortal foil thou deign'it to grow?

Porz.

REFLECTING on the miferies to which

human life is liable, I fell into a deep fleep, and thought I was in a pleafant country, and had before me an exceeding high hill, the top of which feemed to be very delightful, and adorned with every thing that bounteous nature could beftow. In the centre of it stood a temple, which for grandeur and elegance exceeded all description. Around the bottom of this hill ftrayed an innųmerable multitude, all of them defiring to arrive at its fummit, to whom a great many perfons offered themselves as guides, though each pretended to take a different road. Amongst them I obferved one ftepping with a haughty mien, and feemingly important air; another was of an anxious look, and cautious pace, and had feveral bags under his arm, which he feemed to fill with gold. In a road

quite oppofite to him, was another of a different afpect, for he had a thoughtless air, a frolicfome gefture and was perpetually throwing away, to fome phantoms about him. (moft of whom were in the fhape of women) what the other perfon feemed fo eager in amaffing. There was likewife another, with an enormous belly, a red face, and gouty legs, walking along with great appearance of con

tent.

Being in a doubt what road to take, and which of thefe guides to follow, I obferved a venerable old man coming towards me, whofe name I afterwards found to be Reflection. He asked me, if it was not the fummit of yonder delightful hill, I defired to arrive at? I answered that it was; but I knew not which guide to follow. Your with faid he is laudable; for the hill is called Happiness, where those that betake themselves to thofe falfe guides will never arrive. See what becomes of their followers! He whom you fee ftepping with that haughty mien is called Am- . bition; he has got a croud to follow him ; the road he takes is up that flippery rock, on which fcarcely any advance a itep; not fo much from the difficulty of the afcent, as from every one endeavouring to pull down his neighbour. Some there are who have advanced a good way, but fee how fast they come tumbling down! Many of them are so stunned with the fall, that they never return again

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