If those, who thus rigorously exercife the power which the law has put into their hands, be asked, why they continue to imprison those whom they know to be unable to pay them; one will answer, that his debtor once lived better than himself; another, that his wife looked above her neighbours, and his children went in filk clothes to the dancingfchool; and another, that he pretended to be a joker and a wit. Some will reply, that if they were in debt, they should meet with the fame treatment; fome, that they owe no more than they can pay, and need therefore give no account of their actions. Some will confefs their refolution, that their debtors fhall rot in jail; and fome will difcover, that they hope, by cruelty, to wring the payment from their friends.

The end of all civil regulations is to fecure private happiness from private malignity; to keep individuals from the power of one another; but this end is apparently neglected, when a man, irritated with lofs, is allowed to be the judge of his own caufe, and to affign the punishment of his own pain; when the diftinction between guilt and happiness, between cafualty and defign, is entrusted to eyes blind with intereft, to understandings depraved by refentment.

Since poverty is punished among us as a crime, it ought at least to be treated with the fame lenity as other crimes; the offender ought not to languish at the will of him whom he has offended, but to be allowed fome appeal to the juftice of his country. There can be no reason why any debtor fhould be imprisoned, but that he may be compelled to payment; and a term should therefore be fixed, in which

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which the creditor fhould exhibit his accufation of concealed property. If fuch property can be disco. vered, let it be given to the creditor; if the charge is not offered, or cannot be proved, let the prifoner be difmiffed.

Those who made the laws have apparently fuppofed, that every deficiency of payment is the crime of the debtor. But the truth is, that the creditor always thares the act, and often more than fhares the guilt of improper truft. It feldom happens that any man imprisons another but for debts which he fuffered to be contracted in hope of advantage to himfelf, and for bargains in which he proportioned his profit to his own opinion of the hazard; and there is no reafon, why one fhould punish the other for a contract in which both concurred.

Many of the inhabitants of prifons may justly complain of harder treatment. He that once owes more than he can pay, is often obliged to bribe his creditor to patience, by encreafing his debt. Worfe and worfe commodities, at a higher and higher price, are forced upon him; he is impoverished by compulfive traffick, and at laft overwhelmed, in the common receptacles of mifery, by debts, which, without his own confent, were accumulated on his head. To the relief of this distress, no other objection can be made, but that by an eafy diffolution of debts, fraud will be left without punishment, and imprudence without awe, and that when infolvency fhall be no longer punishable, credit will ceafe.

The motive to credit, is the hope of advantage. Commerce can never be at a stop, while one man wants what another can fupply; and credit will

never be denied, while it is likely to be repaid with profit. He that trufts one whom he defigns to fue, is criminal by the act of truft; the ceffation of fuch infidious traffick is to be desired, and no reason can be given why a change of the law fhould impair any other.

We fee nation trade with nation, where no payment can be compelled. Mutual convenience produces mutual confidence; and the merchants continue to fatisfy the demands of each other, though they have nothing to dread but the lofs of trade.

It is vain to continue an inftitution, which experience fhews to be ineffectual. We have now imprifoned one generation of debtors after another, but we do not find that their numbers leffen. We have now learned, that rashness and imprudence will not be deterred from taking credit; let us try whether fraud and avarice may be more easily reftrained from giving it.

I am, SIR, &c.

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NUMB. 23. SATURDAY, September 23, 1758,

IFE has no pleafure higher or nobler than

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that of friendship. It is painful to confider, that this fublime enjoyment may be impaired or deftroyed by innumerable caufes, and that there is no human poffeffion of which the duration is less certain.

Many have talked, in very exalted language, of the perpetuity of friendship, of invincible conftancy, and unalienable kindnefs; and fome examples have been feen of men who have continued faithful to their earliest choice, and whofe affection has predominated over changes of fortune, and contrariety of opinion.

But thefe inftances are memorable, because they

The friendship which is to be pratifed or expected by common mortals, muft take its rife from mutual pleasure, and must end when the power ceases of delighting each other.

Many accidents therefore may happen, by which the ardour of kindness will be abited, without criminal bafenefs or contemptible inconftancy on either part. To give pleasure is not always in our power; and little does he know himfelf, who believes that he can be always able to receive it.

Those who would gladly pafs their days together may be feparated by the different courfe of their

affairs;

affairs; and friendfhip, like love, is deftroyed by long abfence, though it may be encreased by short intermiffions. What we have miffed long enough to want it, we value more when it is regained; but that which has been loft till it is forgotten, will be found at last with little gladnefs, and with ftill lefs if a fubftitute has fupplied the place. A man deprived of the companion to whom he used to open his bofom, and with whom he fhared the hours of leisure and merriment, feels the day at firft hanging heavy on him; his difficulties opprefs, and his doubts distract him; he fees time come and go without his wonted gratification, and all is fadness within and folitude about him. But this uneafinefs never lasts long; neceffity produces expedients, new amusements are difcovered, and new converfation is admitted.

No expectation is more frequently difappointed, than that which naturally arifes in the mind, from the prospect of meeting an old friend after long feparation. We expect the attraction to be revived, and the coalition to be renewed; no man confiders how much alteration time has made in himself, and very few enquire what effect it has had upon others. The first hour convinces them, that the pleasure, which they have formerly enjoyed, is for ever at an end; different scenes have made different impreffions; the opinions of both are changed; and that fimilitude of manners and fentiment is loft, which confirmed them both in the approbation of themselves.

Friendship is often deftroyed by oppofition of intereft, not only by the ponderous and visible inte

reft