fary to abstain from wenching; and in thefe, at whatever rifque, I applied myself to the bottle: a habit of drink-ing came infenfibly upon me, and I was foon able to walk home with a bottle and a pint. I had learned a fufficient number of fashionable toafts, and got by heart feveral toping and feveral bawdy fongs, fome of which I ventured to roar out with a friend hanging on my arm as we fcoured the street after our nocturnal revel. I now la boured with indefatigable industry to increase these acquifitions: I enlarged my ftock of healths; made great: progrefs in finging, joking, and story telling; fwore well; could make a company of ftaunch topers drunk ;: always collected the reckoning, and was the laft man that departed. My face began to be covered with red. pimples, and my eyes to be weak; I became daily more negligent of my drefs, and more blunt in my manner; I profeffed myself a foe to starters and milkfops, declared that there was no enjoyment equal to that of a bottle and a friend, and foon gained the appel-lation of an HONEST FELLOW.

By this diftinction I was animated to attempt yet greater excellence ; I learned feveral feats of mimickry of the under players, could take off known characters, tell a ftaring ftory, and humbug with so much skill as fometimes to take-in a knowing one. I was fo fuccefsful in the practice of thefe arts, to which, indeed, I applied myfelf with unwearied diligence and affiduity, that I kept my company roaring with applaufe, till their voices funk by degrees, and they were no longer able to laugh, because they were no longer able either to hear or to fee. I had now afcended another fcale in the climax; and was acknowledged by all who knew me, to be a JoYouS SPIRIT.

After all thefe topics of merriment were exhaufted, and I had repeated my tricks, my ftories, and my jokes, and my fong, till they grew infipid, I became mifchievous ; and was continually devifing and executing FROLICKS, to the unspeakable delight of my companions, and the injury of others. For many of them I was profecuted, and frequently obliged to pay large damages: but I bore all thefe loffes with an air of jovial indifference, I

pushed

pushed on in my career, I was more desperate in proportion as I had lefs to lofe; and being deterred from no mifchief by the dread of its confequences, I was faid to run at all, and complimented with the name of BUCK.

My eftate was at length mortgaged for more than it was worth; my creditors were importunate; I became negligent of myfelf and of others; I made a defperate effort at the gaming-table, and loft the laft fum that I could raife; my eftate was feized by the mortgagee; I learned to pack cards and to cog a die; became a bully to whores; paffed my nights in a brothel, the street, or the watch-houfe; was utterly, infenfible of fhame, and lived upon the town as a beaft of prey in a forest. Thus I reached the fummit of modern glory, and had just acquired the diftinction of a BLOOD, when I was arrested for an old debt of three hundred pounds, and thrown into the King's Bench prifon.

These characters, Sir, though they are distinct, yet do not at all differ, otherwife than as fhades of the fame colour. And though they are ftages of a regular progreffion, yet the whole progrefs is not made by every individual: fome are fo foon initiated in the mysteries of the town, that they are never publicly known in their GREENHORN ftate; others fix long in the JEMMYHOOD, others are JESSAMYS at fourfcore, and fome ftagnate in each of the higher ftages for life. But I requeft that they may never hereafter be confounded either. by you or your correfpondents. Of the BLOOD, your brother Adventurer, Mr. WILDGOOSE, though he affumes the character, does not feem to have a just and. precife idea as diftinct from the Buck, in which class he fhould be placed, and will probably die; for he feems determined to shoot himself, juft at the time when his circumftances will enable him to affume the higher diftinction.

But the retrofpect upon life, which this letter has made neceffary, covers me with confufion and aggravates defpair. I cannot but reflect, that among all thefe characters, I have never affumed that of a MAN. Man is a REASONABLE BEING, which he ceafes to be,

who

who difguifes his body with ridiculous fopperies, or degrades his mind by deteftable brutality. Thefe thoughts would have been of great ufe to me, if they had occurred feven years ago. If they are of ufe to you, I hope you will fend me a fmall gratuity for my labour, to alleviate the mifery of hunger and nakedness: but, dear Sir, let your bounty be fpeedy, left I perish before it arrive.

Common-fide King's Bench,
Oct. 18, 1753.

I am your humble fervant,

NOMENTANUS.

On the Force of Habit.

T

[Spec. No. 447.J

HERE is not a common faying which has a. better turn of fenfe in it, than what we often hear in the mouths of the vulgar, that cuftom is a fecond nature. It is indeed able to form the man anew, and to give him inclinations and capacities altogether different from thofe he was born with. Dr. Plot in his hiftory of Staffordshire, tells us of an idiot that chancing, to live within the found of a clock, and always amufing himself with counting the hour of the day whenever the clock ftruck, the clock being spoiled by fome accident the idiot continued to ftrike and count the hour without the help of it, in the fame manner as he had done when it was intire. Though I dare not vouch for the truth of this ftory, it is very certain that cuftom has a mechanical effect upon the body, at the fame time that it has a very extraordinary influence upon the mind.

I fhall in this paper confider one very remarkable effect which cuftom has upon human nature; and which, if rightly obferved, may lead us into very ufeful rules of life. What I fhall here take notice of in cuftom, is its wonderful efficacy in making every thing pleafant to us. A perfon who is addicted to play or gaming, though he took but little delight in it at first, by degrees contracts fo ftrong an inclination towards it, and gives himfelf up fo intirely to it, that it feems the only end

of

of his being. The love of a retired or bufy life will grow upon a man infenfibly, as he is converfant in the one or the other, till he is utterly unqualified for relishing that to which he has been for fome time difused. Nay, a man may fmoke, or drink, or take fnuff, till he is unable to pafs away his time without it; not to mention how our delight in any particular ftudy, art, or fcience, rifes and improves in proportion to the application which we beftow upon it. Thus what was at firft an exercife, becomes at length an entertainment. Our employments are changed into our diverfions. The mind grows fond of thofe actions fhe is accustomed to, and is drawn with reluctancy from thofe paths in which he has been used to walk..

Not only fuch actions as were at first indifferent to us, but even fuch as were painful, will by custom and prac tice become pleafant. Sir Francis Bacon obferves in his natural philofophy, that our tafte is never pleafed bet-ter than with those things which at firft created a dif guft in it. He gives particular inftances of claret, coffee, and other liquors, which the palate feldom approves upon the first tafte; but when it has once got a relifh of them, generally retains it for life. The mind is conftituted after the fame manner, and after having habituated herself to any particular exercife or employment, not only lofes her firft averfion towards it, but conceives a certain fondness and affection for it. I have heard one of the greatest genius's this age has produced, whohad been trained up in all the polite ftudies of anti-quity, affure me, upon his being obliged to fearch into feveral rolls and records, that notwithstanding fuch an employment was at firft very dry and irksome to him, he at laft took an incredible pleafure in it, and preferred it even to the reading of Virgil or Cicero. The reader will obferve, that I have not here confidered cuftom as it makes things eafy, but as it renders them delightful; and though others have often made the fame reflections, it is poffible they may not have drawn those ufes from it, with which I intend to fill the remainingpart of this paper.

If we confider attentively this property of human nature, it may instruct us in very fine moralities. In the first place, I would have no man difcouraged with that kind of life or series of action, in which the choice of others, or his own neceffities, may have engaged him. It may perhaps be very difagreeable to him at firft; but ufe and application will certainly render it not only less painful, but pleasing and fatisfactory.

In the fecond place, I would recommend to every one that admirable precept which Pythagoras is faid to have given to his difciples, and which that philofopher must. have drawn from the obfervation I have enlarged upon. Optimum vitæ genus eligito, nam confuetudo faciet jucundiffimum. Pitch upon that courfe of life, which is the most excellent, and custom will render it the most de lightful. Men, whofe circumftances will permit them to choose their own way of life, are inexcufable if they do not pursue that which their judgment tells them is the most laudable. The voice of reafon is more to be regarded than the bent of any prefent inclination, fince, by the rule above-mentioned, inclination will at length come over to reafon, though we can never force reafon to comply with inclination.

In the third place, this observation may teach the moft fenfual and irreligious man, to overlook thofe hardfhips and difficulties, which are apt to difcourage him from the profecution of a virtuous life. The gods, faid Hefiod, have placed labour before virtue; the way to her is at firft rough and difficult, but grows more smooth and eafy the farther you advance in it. The man who proceeds in it with fteadiness and refolution, will in a little time find that her ways are ways of pleasantness, and that all her paths are peace.

To enforce this confideration, we may further obferve, that the practice of religion will not only be attended with that pleafure, which naturally accompanies thofe actions to which we are habituated, but with. thofe fupernumerary joys of heart, that rife from the confcioufnefs of fuch a pleasure, from the fatisfaction of acting up to the dictates of reason, and from the profpect of an happy immortality.