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• Thus the matter refted, till the reign of Elizabeth. In the mean time, the violent measures of her predeceffor had tended greatly to open an inquifitive temper in the age; and to abolish its prejudices. Men began to have fome notion of thinking for themselves; and it was no longer neceffary to obferve that extreme caution, which had hitherto been obferved, in addrefling them on religious fubjects. The Catechifm therefore was now improved on a more liberal plan; and having undergone feveral reviews, was at length published by authority, nearly in its prefent form, in the year 1563. It ought to be mentioned, that the perfon principally concerned in this work, was Nowel, dean of St. Paul's.

From this fhort history of the Catechifm, the various forms it underwent, and the care and caution employed in compofing it, we need not wonder at finding it, what it really appears to be, a very accurate, judicious, and comprehenfive fummary of the principles and doctrines of the Chriftian religion.'

Our Readers will not expect many extracts from a work of this nature; it is fufficient to acquaint them that the doctrinal and practical parts of religion are elucidated in a plain, easy, and judicious manner; that there is a neatnefs and perfpicuity in the Author's ftyle; and that he appears, through the whole of his performance, to be more defirous of being useful to thofe for whom he writes, than of difplaying his learning and abilities.

Part of his twenty-firft lecture, wherein he fhews the great danger of keeping bad company, may ferve as a fpecimen of his manner of writing:

Before we connder the danger of keeping bad company, let us, fays he, first fee the meaning of the phrafe.-In the phrafe of the world, good company means fashionable people. Their stations in life, not their morals are confidered: and he, who affociates with fuch, though they fet him the example of breaking every commandment of the decalogue, is fill faid to keep good company.-I fhould with you to fix another meaning to the expreffion; and to confider vice in the fame detestable light, in whatever company it is found; nay, to confider all company in which it is found, be their ftation what it will, as bad company.

The three following claffes will perhaps include the greatest part of those who deferve this appellation.

In the first, I fhould rank all who endeavour to destroy the principles of Christianity-who jeft upon fcripture-talk blafphemyand treat revelation with contempt.

A fecond clafs of bad company are thofe who have a tendency to destroy in us the principles of common honefty and integrity. Under this head, we may rank gamefters of every denomination; and the low, and infamous characters of every profeffion.

A third clafs of bad company, and fuch as are commonly most dangerous to youth, includes the long catalogue of men of pleasure. In whatever way they follow the call of appetite, they have equally a tendency to corrupt the purity of the mind.

Befides

Befides thefe three claffes, whom we may call bad company, there are others who come under the denomination of ill-chofen company trifling, infipid characters of every kind; who follow no bufinefs-are led by no ideas of improvement-but spend their time in diffipation and folly-whofe highest praife it is, that they are only not vicious. With none of thefe, a ferious man would with his fon to keep company.

It may be asked what is meant by keeping bad company? The world abounds with characters of this kind: they meet us in every place; and if we keep company at all, it is impoffible to avoid keeping company with fuch perfons.

It is true, if we were determined never to have any commerce with bad men, we muft, as the apofile remarks, altogether go out of the world." By keeping bad company, therefore, is not meant a cafual intercourfe with them, on occafion of business; or as they accidentally fall in our way; but having an inclination to confort with them-complying with that inclination-feeking their company, when we might avoid it-entering into their parties-and making them the companions of our choice. Mixing with them occafion-' ally, cannot be avoided.

The danger of keeping bad company, arifes principally from our aptnefs to imitate and catch the manners and fentiments of othersfrom the power of cuftom-from our own bad inclinations-and from the pains taken by the bad to corrupt us.

In our earliest youth, the contagion of manners is obfervable. In the boy, yet incapable of having any thing inflilled into him, we eafily discover from his first actions, and rude attempts at language, the kind of perfons, with whom he has been brought up: we fee the early spring of a civilized education; or the first wild fhoots of rufticity.

As he enters farther into life, his behaviour, manners, and converfation, all take their caft from the company he keeps. Obfervè the peasant, and the man of education; the difference is ftriking. And yet God hath bestowed equal talents on each. The only dif ference is, they have been thrown into different fcenes of life; and have had commerce with perfons of different stations.

Nor are manners and behaviour more eafily caught, than opinions, and principles. In childhood and youth, we naturally adopt the fentiments of thofe about us. And as we advance in life, how few of us think for ourselves? How many of us are fatisfied with taking our opinions at fecond hand?

The great power, and force of cuflom forms another argument against keeping bad company. However feriously difpofed we may be; and however fhocked at the first approaches of vice; this fhocking appearance goes off, upon an intimacy with it. Cuftom will foon render the most difgustful thing familiar. And this is indeed à kind provifion of nature, to render labour, and toil, and danger, which are the lot of man, more eafy to him. The raw foldier, who trembles at the first encounter, becomes a hardy veteran in a few campaigns. Habit renders danger familiar, and of courfe indifferent to him.

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But habit, which is intended for our good, may, like other kind appointments of nature, be converted into a mifchief. The welldifpofed youth, entering first into bad company, is fhocked at what he hears, and what he fees. The good principles, which he had imbibed, ring in his ears an alarming leffon against the wickedness of his companions. But, alas! this fenfibility is but of a day's continuance. The next jovial meeting makes the horrid picture of yefterday more easily endured. Virtue is foon thought a fevere rule; the gospel, an inconvenient refraint: a few pangs of conscience now and then interrupt his pleafures; and whifper to him, that he once had better thoughts: but even thefe by degrees die away; and he who at first was fhocked even at the appearance of vice, is formed by cuflom, into a profligate leader of vicious pleafures-perhaps into an abandoned tempter to vice.-So carefully thould we oppofe the first approaches of fin! fo vigilant fhould we be against fo infidious an ene my!

Our own bad inclinations form another argument against bad company. We have fo many paffions and appetites to govern; fo many bad propenfities of different kinds to watch, that, amidst fuch a variety of enemies within, we ought at leaft to be on our guard against thofe without. The breaft even of a good man is represented in fcripture, and experienced in fact, to be in a state of warfare. His vicious inclinations are continually drawing him one way; while his virtue is making efforts another, And if the fcriptures reprefent this as the cafe even of a good man, whose paflions, it may be imagined, are become in fome degree cool, and temperate, and who has made fome progrefs in a virtuous courfe; what may we fuppofe to be the danger of a raw unexperienced youth, whofe paffions and appetites are violent and feducing, and whofe mind is in a fill lefs confirmed ftate? It is his part furely to keep out of the way of temptation; and to give his bad inclinations as little room as possible, to acquire new strength.'

The fame fubject is continued in the twenty-fecond lecture, which Mr. Gilpin introduces with obferving, that bad men take more pains to corrupt their own fpecies, than virtuous men do to reform them.

Hence thofe fpecious arts, fays he, that fhow of friendship, that appearance of diliatereltedness, with which the profligate feducer endeavours to lure the unwary youth; and at the fame time, yielding to his inclinations, feems to follow rather than to lead him. Many are the arts of thefe corrupters; but their principal art is ridicule. By this they endeavour to laugh out of countenance all the better principles of their wavering profelyte; and make him think contemptibly of thofe, whom he formerly refpected by this they life the ingenuous blush; and finally deftroy all fenfe of fhame. Their caufe is below argument. They aim not therefore at reafonirg. Raillery is the weapon they employ; and who is there, that hath the steadiness to hear perfons and things, whatever reverence he may have had for them, the fubject of continual ridicule, without lofing that reverence by degrees ?

• Having

Having thus confidered what principally makes bad company dangerous, I fhall just add, that even were your own morals in no danger from fuch intercourfe, your characters would infallibly fuffer. The world will always judge of you by your companions: and nobody will fuppofe, tha: a youth of virtuous principles himself, can poffibly form a connection with a profligate.

In reply to the danger fuppofed to arife from bad company, perhaps the youth may fay, he is fo firm in his own opinions, fo fteady in his principles, that he thinks himself secure; and need not reftrain himself from the most unreferved converfation.

Alas! this fecurity is the very brink of the precipice: nor hath vice in her whole train a more dangerous enemy to you, than prefumption. Caution, ever awake to danger, is a guard againit it. But fecurity lays every guard afleep. "Let him who thinketh he ftandeth," faith the apoftle, "take heed left he fall." Even an apostle himself did fall, by thinking that he flood fecure. "Though I should die with thee," faid St. Peter to his mafter, "yet will I not deny thee." That very night, notwithstanding this boafted fecurity, he repeated the crime three feveral times. And can we fuppofe, that prefumption, which occafioned an apoftle's fall, fhall not ruin an unexperienced youth? The story is recorded for our inftruction; and fhould be a tanding leffon against prefuming upon our own Strength.

In conclufion, fuch as the dangers are, which arife from bad company, fuch are the advantages, which accrue from good. We imitate, and catch the manners, and fentiments of good men, as we do of bad. Custom, which renders vice lefs a deformity, renders virtue more lovely. Good examples have a force beyond inftruction, and warm us into emulation beyond precept: while the countenance and converfation of virtuous men encourage, and draw out into action every kindred difpofition of our hearts.

Befides, as a fenfe of thame often prevents our doing a right thing in bad company; it operates in the fame way in preventing our doing a wrong one in good. Our character becomes a pledge; and we cannot, without a kind of difhonour, draw back.

It is not poffible, indeed, for a youth, yet unfurnished with knowledge (which fits him for good company), to chufe his companions as he pleafes. A youth muft have fomething peculiarly attractive, to qualify him for the acquaintance of men of established reputation. What he has to do, is, at all events, to avoid bad company; and to endeavour, by improving his mind and morals, to qualify himself for the beft.

Happy is that youth, who, upon his entrance into the world, can chufe his company with difcretion. There is often in vice, a gaiety, an unreferve, a freedom of manners, which are apt at fight to engage the unwary: while virtue, on the other hand, is often modelt, referved, diffident, backward, and easily difconcerted. I hat freedom of manners, however engaging, may cover a very corrupt heart: and this aukwardness, however unpleafing, may veil a thoufand virtues. Suffer not your mind, therefore, to be eafily either engaged, or difgufted at first fight. Form your intimacies with rereferve; and if drawn unawares into an acquaintance you difapprove, immediately

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immediately retreat. Open not your hearts to every profeffion of friendship. They, whofe friendship is worth accepting, are, as you ought to be, referved in offering it. Chufe your companions, not merely for the fake of a few outward accomplishments-for the idle pleasure of fpending an agreeable hour; but mark their difpofition to virtue or vice; and, as much as poffible, chufe thofe for your companions, whom you fee others refpect always remembering, that upon the choice of your company depends, in a great meafure, the fuccefs of all you have learned; the hopes of your friends; your future characters in life; and, what you ought above all other things to value, the purity of your hearts.'

This fpecimen may be fufficient to fhew what advantage youth, in general, may derive from an attentive perufal of this work; and furely to thofe who had the good fortune of being educated by Mr Gilpin, his Lectures must be peculiarly useful, and can fcarce fail of making a due impreffion upon their minds, as the laft words of a fincere and juftly esteemed friend.

X. FOREIGN LITERATURE.
(By our CORRESPONDENT s.)
FRANCE.
ART. I.

PRINCIPES de Morale, de Politique et de Droit Public, puifés, &c. ou Difcours fur l'Hiftoire de France, &c. i. e. Moral Political Difcourfes on the Hiftory of France. By M. MOREAU, Hiftoriographer of France, Vols. V. VI. and VII. 8vo. Paris. 1778. Price 3 Livres 12 Sols each Volume. This excellent work (which deferves that title, notwithstanding its defects, and which is the production of perhaps the best writer, at this day, in the French nation) does not decrease in merit as it grows in fize. The volumes, before us, carry equal marks of that learning, tafte, genius, and virtue which we formerly applauded in those that preceded them; yet we are still obliged to lament the attachment of fuch a writer, and fuch a man, to the odious fyftem of abfolute monarchy,-a fyftem at all times pregnant with evils and oppreffion, and which, in its execution, fo often feparates entirely the intereft and glory of the monarch from the intereft and well-being of his fubjects.

In the fifth volume we have a very interefting account (rendered fuch by our Author's excellent plan) of the strange revolution which deprived Childeric of the crown, and placed Pepin on the throne of Clovis. We muft fuppofe that M. MOREAU poffefles a very high degree of virtuous and publicfpirited intrepidity, when he ventures to teach, as conclufions

The literal tranflation of this title would run thus: Principles of Morality, Politics and public Law, derived from the Hiftory of our Monarchy-or Difcourfes on the Hiftory of France.

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