your first entrance into the world, by pointing out some of the dangers to which you are ex

posed, and, by exhorting you not to be too confident in your opinions, not to be too sanguine in your expectations, not to be too scyour virtue.

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I. Be not too confident in your opinions. Nothing is more amiable in all orders of men, and particularly in the young, than modesty and diffidence. It is a certain proof of rising merit; it indicates a good understanding not to be positive in deciding, where we have not sufficient knowledge and experience to direct us; and it gains the good will of all, for it offends the self-love of none. On the contrary, nothing is more ill-founded and disagreeable, and yet nothing more common with the young, than a conceit of their own abilities, and an obstinate adherence to their own opinions. But be not ye wise in your own conceits, and learn not to think of yourselves more highly than you ought. Those untried abilities which you, now, think adequate to every undertaking, experience will, hereafter, teach you to distrust. You have, as yet, had, comparatively, but few opportunities of improvement; your experience is nothing, and your acquain

tance with the world extremely limited; your minds are not sufficiently matured and improved by reading and conversation. Submit therefore to the wiser and more experienced; receive their opinions, and listen to their advice. At any rate, presume not to dictate to them, or imagine that your unfledged fancies, your crude conceptions, are to rectify the ancient constitution of things, and supplant those received opinions and customs which are founded on the wisdom of ages. Nothing is more unjust or unsafe than to judge of any thing by first appearances. It is seldom, but that opinions, formed in this way, are found by experience to be extremely erroneous. Few men have lived long in the world without finding that in many things they had mistaken; without altering, in many material respects, the opinions which they once firmly entertained concerning men and things. And many more have blundered on in errour because they were too obstinate, or were ashamed to retract sentiments, which, in former times, they had rashly adopted or positively defended. Self-conceit is a fatal enemy to advancement, it shuts up every avenue to improvement, it prevents you from pressing for

ward to perfection, it robs you of that wholesome counsel which is so absolutely necessary to the young and inexperienced. If you set out in the world with diffidence, docility, and a disposition to learn from others, you will not fail to receive that encouragement, assistance. and success which always attend modest merit. But if, with an overweening opinion of your own abilities, you trust wholly to yourselves, and the wisdom of your own plans, you will meet with nothing but opposition, disappointment and disgrace.

II. This leads me to exhort you, in the second place, not to be too sanguine in your expectations. Do not flatter yourself with the hope of passing your days in uninterrupted tranquillity and pleasure, or imagine, that, you shall be exempted from the common evils and calamities of human life. Because you

are at present blessed with a robust and healthful constitution, and are capable of enjoying with delight, and even with rapture, the scenes of amusement and indulgence which solicit your attention on every side; infer not from hence, that, the objects around you will continually wear the same gay and attractive aspect, or that you will always be able to relish

the delights which they are calculated to afford. Remember, that, all sensual pleasures are unstable and precarious, and depend upon circumstances which it is not in your powcr to control; that you are liable every hour of your lives to be seized with disorders which would entirely destroy your appetite for these pleasures, and under which the richest and most luxurious entertainments, the fairest objects of nature, and the most enchanting melody of sounds would be insipid, tiresome, and offensive. In short, that even, if you should meet with no interruption in your pursuit of pleasure from external causes, yet the seeds of satiety and disappointment are sown in the very frame of your nature, and in a short time, much shorter than you may be willing to imagine, those objects which now captivate your whole attention will lose all their charms, and be no longer able to give you delight and entertainment.

You are perhaps entering upon the world, with all the advantages of a liberal education, agrecable connections, a fair character, and an honourable, advantageous employment. With all these favourable circumstances you may possibly think, that, your prospect of suc

cess and happiness in future life amounts to little less than an absolute certainty; you begin your career with a confident assurance that you shall obtain the prize; you promise yourselves, that, "to morrow shall be as this day, and much more abundant."

But consider, I beseech you, on what a precarious foundation your towering hopes are built, and how soon they may all be levelled with the ground. Suppose the friends in whom you confide, should, from some real or imaginary provocation, desert your interests, and employ that influence against you which you expected them to exert in your favour. Suppose that some designing villain should have art and malice enough to rob you of your good name, or should, by some fraudulent device, deprive you of the possessions which you hoped to make the basis of your future happiness. Suppose, that, in the course of business you should take an imprudent and injudicious step at a season and in an affair of critical importance, and thus involve yourselves in inextricable difficulties. Or, lastly, suppose that it should please the wise disposer of all things, to suffer some calamitous accident to frustrate at once all your schemes, blast all your hopes,