.Y K*j»fw» mi-r DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Treasure %oom i^y M 03 /9 V Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from Duke University Libraries http://www.archive.org/details/actonorcircleoflOOnewy s .a 2^A- 4^ ttmx m isi)ii .'' ^ =*-<%• THE CEYSTAL LIFE. Indefinite Objects. We possess many instinctive and indefinable anticipations and hallucinations in regard to life. We persuade ourselves that it teems with novelties and delights ; and that it abounds with high festival days and gala shows, somewhere in happier regions, although they come not to us. Who will emanci- pate us from our monotonous thralls, — who will embellish the real with the romantic, and present us with the agreeable surprises, the far-fetched novelties, the exhilarating raptures, that we crave to make our own ? Who will solve the enig- mas, unriddle the riddles, or gather the sweet pansies for us, and " Tell us of hills and far off towns. And long, long vales to travel through 1" We think more of the episodes than of the epic. In the great drama, all, even the drones and dummies, are engaged ; and in the parts assigned to us, our greatest prerogative will be, that we are adapted to them, and they to us ; and, whe- ther sandals and garlands, jewels and ornaments, or clogs and burdens, yokes and fetters are allotted to us, still we should act well our parts, either with courtesy and grace, or with forbearance and fortitude. Definite principles and qualities are only realized when we are placed in definite positions, and when we grapple with definite objects. 16 LIFE. Destiny of Life. Proud life ! yon tree its shadow throws, Substance and shade in harmony — Nursed by the genial wind which blows, A mocking proof of majesty ! Creature of earth, the sun, and skies, Upreared — yet doubly fated found — To fall as surely as to rise. And crownless be that once was crowned. Ye forms which vanish from my view, In beauteous types to be renewed — My own in turn shall vanish too. To be with Essence-Life imbued ! Evanescence. Life is fading tint and fleeting form. It is the blue on the grape ; the blush on the rose ; the foam on the wave ; the beam on the cloud ; the smoke on the wind ; or, the arrow in the air. Refinements and Delights. The delights and refinements of life spring from elevated sources. They are eliminated out of the choicest materials of thought and action, and are the joint fruits of the fine arts and of a high state of moral and intellectual cultivation. Full of dazzling charms and bewildering attractions, these glorious perfections of the social state are beset with dangers and temptations on the one hand, and with follies and ex- cesses on the other. The fop, the libertine, the spendthrift, the voluptuary, and the fashionable zany are all to be met with, mingling in these mazy circles of sensualism and plea- sure ; but they are only meteoric aerolites thrown off by the bright and rapid revolutions of those brilliant orbs which are for ever speeding on in their resistless course, while the stars of love and the whole galaxy of light and beauty still shine all glorious, undimmed, and unconcerned as ever. In its refinements, its elegances, its graces and adorn- LIFE. 17 ments, is seen the glory and perfection of life. It is the highest honor to be equal to them and capable of sustaining them ; and the greatest happiness to appreciate them pro- perly and to enjoy them rationally. " The resort Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where Supporting and supported, polished friends And dear relations mingle into bliss." Its severest Trials. The severest and most painful conflicts of life are expe- rienced by few, — are communicable to none. Oh ! what burning agony of soul, what direful convulsions of the brain attend them, when every throb of the heart is a death- stroke ; when the fibre of every nerve is charged with piercing, searching and writhing torture, and the intensily of life is upon us; while the unfaltering energy of a great mind fails not, but boldly wrestles with despair ! This is the scorpion girdled by a ring of fire, and herein is either the perfection, or the overthrow of life. ■ O ! there are times of durance, when One arm should be as strong as ten. All this is known and realized by those who have been baptized in blood and flame ; who have felt the elements of a great struggle boiling tumultuously in their veins, and who have been nurtured and cradled not amidst lawns and lilies, but among oaks and crags ; and who have not gam- boled witli the sunny insects of day, or with the glittering glow-worms of evening, but have braved the lightnings of wrath, and the darkness of midnight storms. Weariness. The tedious weariness and oppressive monotony of life — moments which we are at a loss to employ when we are uneasy and discontented and " life is dull and spirits low " — occasionally weigh lioavily upon every heart ; for into every heart, according to a fanciful conception of the Turks, there is originally infused a drop of black blood, which contami- nates the wIioIp body, and is the nascent germ of all our secret and inmost pains and suflx;rings. 18 LIFE. Admit that this fable only symbolizes the mystery of some previous and fundamental truth ; yet they who think it of more importance wisely to endure sorrows, rather than skillfully to explain their origin, will readily agree with La Rochefaucault, " that there is nothing more necessary than to know how to bear the tedious moments of life." The most effectual remedy then is patience, and thoughts of joy- ousness and content. " Soul-strengthening patience, and sublime content." Contrasts. Some impressions possess such an elevating and enno- bling character, that we are loth to relinquish them, and to descend again to the level of common and ordinary feelings. When we experience them, we have touched the true source of the moral sublime ; and have learned to know that there is something grand and imposing as well as humble and ignoble in life. Such sensations enable us to realize the im- port of what Gomez felt and said, when, for the first time, he beheld the grand and magnificent valley of Mexico expanded before him : " that no one could conceive of an earthly para- dise without beholding it." But he passed on from the en- chanting valley, with all its gorgeous and glowing scenery, into the wild wilderness and the miserable and wretched hovel of the poor Indian. Thus do the transactions of life occur ; and thus do we fluctuate between the high and the low, the great and the insignificant, the sublime and the ridiculous. Comparative Views. Some take straight-forward, but Waller-conceived, circu- lar views of life, and it may be regarded either as a toilsome or as a merry go-round. " Circles are praised not that abound In largeness, but th' exactly round ; So life we praise that does excel Not in much time, but acting well." Associations. The observation made by Lady Bolingbroke, in regard to the acquisition of a foreign language, that it is only by asso- LIFE. 19 dating with the intelligent and highly cultivated that we are enabled to speak it correctly, is applicable to other kinds of acquisition. It is they only who are elevated in mind, char- acter, and position, who can lift us up ; while the ignoble, degraded, and debased only drag us down. We may bo de- prived of the advantages of better and superior associations, at some time or another, but unless we seek and obtain them we shall not profit by them, nor be acknowledged to be wor- thy of them. Arduous Difficulties. Strength, bravery, dexterity, and unfaltering nerve and resolution must be the portion and attributes of those who pursue their fortunes amidst the stormy waves of life. It is a crowning triumph, or a diastrous defeat ; garlands or chains ; a prison or a prize. We need the eloquence of Ulysses to plead in our behalf, the arrows of Hercules to do battle on our side. Take Danton's noble and manly defiance. " To conquer the enemies of France — to hurl them back — what do we re- quire ? " To dare, and again to dare, and without end to dare." So also Ariosto To conquer is a glorious thing ; To dare, in mind, in heart, in deed ; Let wit or valor conquest bring, 'Tis great, 'tis glorious to succeed. Exertions and Trials. The severe trials and hazardous enterprises of life call into exercise the latent faculties of the soul of man. Incen- tives to virtue and superiority, they are prepared and pre- destined for him, to put his manhood to the proof, and *to in- culcate upon him strength, hardihood, and valor. Pusillani- mous and feeble without great exertions, he is only what he was designed to be, when he makes them, and forms a com- mendable and heroic resolution not to permit life to pass away in trifles, but to accomplish something, even in spite of obstacles, but more especially if they do not exist. At slight difficulties be not dismayed, nor magnify them by weakness 20 LIFE. and despondency, but boldly meet them and put them to flight. There are cobble-stones in every road, and pebbles in every path. All have cares, disappointments, and stum- bling-blocks. Sobs and sighs, groans and regrets avail not. All have need of heart and mind, wit, wisdom, address, man- agement, patience and perseverance. Besides, most diffi- culties and trials are merely imaginary. In the Homeric ages, virtue and glory were identified, but they always im- plied greatness of soul, great exploits, and great honors. " Twined with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield, Or reaped in iron harvests of the field." It is indolence and deficiency of spirit which produce tor- por and stagnation ; for both in the daily difficulties of life and in the arduous career of moral greatness, dangers and impediments abound, as well as in the perilous triumphs of heroism, but we perceive ihem not. The contest reveals them, and shows how difficult and onerous is the task of zealous and active goodness — of resolute and determined vir- tue — of patient and consistent fortitude, or of useful and laudable exertion and enterprise. " A vaincre sans peril, on triomphe sans gloire." The Game of Life. We become wearied, and we weary others also, by these habitual appearances and masquerades, — by this double sys- tem of living ; one private, and for ourselves, — the other pub- lie, and for the world. Nothing feigned or violent lasts long. Life will become manifest. It will declare itself. We at last by degrees strip off the worthless disguises. The spectators retire from the artificial show, and we are happy once more to assume our simple and natural characters and feelings. Our subdued love of retirement and seclusion is then equaled only by our former extravagant passion for ostentation and display. We rusli into extremes. The sinner becomes a saint ; the fop a philosopher ; the worldling a hermit ; and we shun observation and acquaintanceship, as much as we before courted notoriety and distinction ; and like those adventurers who have been profuse and lavish spendthrifts in youth, we are converted into grasping and hoarding mi.sers in age. LIFE. 21 False Views- Discontent and wretchedness are as often erroneously as- sociated with poverty, as peace of mind and happiness with affluence ; and there are those who entertain false views of real life, and who yet have the justest perceptions of human nature. Mutual Sacrifices. Life is like time : we must bestow a part to improve the rest ; but we should only give up what is proper and need- ful. So must we make mutual sacrifices, but such only as are right and necessary, and which we would be justified in making, as well as in receiving. Man makes small for others, but prodigious sacrifices for himself; so that often life lives only in its between-cares and forfeits. Defectiveness. It IS not strange that existence is a problem, and life a burden. Experience decides these points, but it is somewhat remarkable that the very veib which expresses existence, to he, is defective in some if not in all languages. External Life. Before us moves the diversified diorama of the world, — the pomp, the dazzle, the confusion of objects, — the com- mingled tints and roseate hues, — " the various mockeries of sight and sound," — and all the imposing circumstance and ostentatious parade of external life. As the motley spectacle passes by, let us pause to look on, and learn the density of bubbles, and " the physiognomy of shades." Internal Life. Outward observation, hut inward scrutiny. Nisi intus vi- deris. Unless we search within, nothing is deeply and truly seen, — nothing powerfully and warmly felt. Time, nature, life, the soul, all speak and respond to the hidden and pro- phetic sense of things, the within being essentially a part of 22 LIFE. the beyond, produced, and reproduced, like the seeds which have been perfumed in the fragrant recesses of the flower ! Internal and External Life. The external life of man is the creature of time and cir- cumstance, and passes away, but the internal abides, and continues to exist. The city and the temple may be destroyed, and the tribes exiled and dispersed, yet the altars and the faith of Israel are still preserved. Spirit triumphs over form. External life prevails amidst sounds and shows, and visi- ble things ; the internal dwells in silence, sighs and tears, and secret sympathies with the invisible world. One is the painted glory of the flower ; the other is the delicious attar of the rose. Emergencies. Pressing emergencies are to be met with which demand talents, wealth, power, energy, character ; in short, every possible help and advantage, to exti'icate ourselves with ho- nor and success from the straits and difiiculties in which we are placed. We must apportion our strength and exertion to the requisite tasks and duties, and remember the Japanese proverb, that a " fog cannot be dispelled with a fan." "He," says Schlegel, " who weakly shrinks from the struggle, who will offer no resistance, who will endure no labor nor fa- tigue, can neither fulfill his own vocation, nor contribute aught to the general welfare of mankind." Truly, he who hath never grappled with the emergen- cies of life, even in his humble sphere, knows not what power lives in the soul to repel the rude shocks of time and destiny, nor is he conscious how much he is " Blest with a kindly faculty to blunt The edge of adverse circumstance, and turn Into their contraries the petty plagues And hindrances with which he stands beset." The Lessons it tenches. The difficulties of life teach- us wisdom ; its vanities hu- mility ; its calumnies pity ; its hopes resignation ; its suffer- LIFE. 23 ings charity ; its afflictions fortitude ; its necessities prudence ; its brevity the value of lime ; and its dangers and uncertain- ties a constant dependence upon a higher and all -protecting Power. Career of Life. Oh life ! whose ills assail, pursue, First with a cry, last with a groan, A struggling spasm betwixt the two. The swaddling band, the burial stone ! Enterprise and Obstacles. — {A sketch.) His energy was not commensurate with every undertak- ing, his ardor not vigorous enough to surmount all obstacles, especially such as came inadvertently in his way. He could not sever the gordian knot of difficulty by one masterly blow, nor was he one of those fearless, resolute and enterpris- ing individuals, who, when thrown upon the world without resources and without friends, could make his progress through it smooth and triumphant, and who could even gather grapes of thorns, and figs of thistles. Dignity of Life. In regard to our intercourse with men, we should often reflect, not only whether our conduct is proper and correct, but if it is urbane and dignified ? A trifling air and manner bespeak a thoughtless and silly mind, but " a grave and ma- jestic outside," saith a Chinese proverb, " is, as it were, the palace of the soul." " Respect is won by grave pretence, And silence surer e'en than sense." Things without life. In the economy of the world, things destitute of life are indispensable to beings that are endowed with life, and are to be converted into service by them. Also, higher life rules inferior life, as itself is governed by the Source of all life. 24 LIFE. Limited Objects., To have but one object in view, or to be swayed but by one idea or impulse, is to be goveAied in a great measure by instinct. Expedients and Compromises. Life abounds with expedients. Few persons live entirely without them, or without using them at least on some occa- sions, and frequently tliey are proper and indispensable. To adopt, however, nothing else but expedients, evinces feeble judgment and defective character, and an absence of some distinguishing and ruling plan of life. But the manner in which they are employed, as well as the nature of the expe- dients, and the efficiency of the resources they manifest, in turning adverse circumstances to advantage ; in adapting ourselves, and things also, to our purposes and plans, dis- plays great ability and address, and frequently an admirable genius for the affairs of life. A weak mind or character resorts to poor contrivances. The compromises and expe- dients of life demand striking proofs of philosophy and ad- dress. Delusions. Delusions many and strong! Plentiful every where, sportive with the young, inveterate with the old — ingrafted upon opinions, modes, habits and customs. Yet not without purpose is life beset and teeming with them. They are means, not ends, and doors and windows to our prudence and discretion. " When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat, Yet fooled with hope men favor the deceit. Strange cozenage ! none would live past years again, Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain. And from the dregs of life think to receive. What the first sprightly running could not give." Dry den. Nothingness. The glory and perpetuity of nature are permanent evi- dences of wisdom and power, beauty and grandeur. The LIFE. 25 conceptions of them are ennobling and elevating ; they are the tangible representations of supreme and invisible omni- potence, and we cannot disregard them, nor cease to contem- plate them, without doing violence to our natures, although they place in such an humble light the impotence and little- ness of man. The confession which Sir Humphrey Davy made to Lord Byron, in regard to the limited faculties of the human mind, when seeking in vain to explore and compre- hend the impenetrable and inexplicable mysteries of the natural world, is pregnant with the most solemn and convinc- ing but humiliating truths. " We must confess the truth," exclaims Davy, " that we are nothing, nothing ; the pride of intellect, the boastful majesty of man, are nothing at all." Business. In the pressing affairs of life, activity is to be preferred to dignity, and practical energy and dispatch to premedi- tated composure and reserve. Vanity of Life. Human life, what is it ? It is vapor gilded by a sun- beam : the reflection of heaven in the waters of the earth : an echo between two worlds. Inherent Value. Not alone by its ultimate destiny, but by its immediate obligations, uses, enjoyments and advantages, must be esti- mated the infinite and untold value of life. It is a great mission on which thou art sent. It is the choicest gift in the bounty of heaven, committed to thy wise and diligent keep- ing, and is associated with countless benefits and priceless boons which heaven alone has power to bestow. What ante- cedent steps ushered it into being, and what daily and hourly miracles are required to sustain it ! If a world, and worlds numberless had been created, they would have been, and would be nothing worth without the principles and prerogatives of life, to which they are all adscititious and subordinate. " Without man, time, as made for man, Dies with man, and is swallowed in that deep Which has no fountain." 2 26 MEN. If we appreciate not, and comprehend not this best and highest demonstration of omnipotent wisdom and regard, tlien omnipotence itself hath nothing richer, nobler, and more esti- mable to bestow ; and if it had, it would be in vain to impart it to us, for we should be wholly unwortiiy to receive it. Life with its thousand voices, wailing and exulting, re- proving and exalting, is calling upon us. Arouse, and girdle thee for the race, up and onward, and, " waking, Be awake to sleep no more." MEN. Three Classes. Mankind may be enumerated under three classes. They who do what is right from principle ; they who act from ap- pearances ; and they who act from impulses in defiance of law, custom and reason : constituting the upright and con- scientious, the time-serving and servile, the reckless and cor- rupt orders of men. Unsteady Men. There are some men who are like unmanageable ships. They have every rope but the most needful of all, and that is the one which guides the rudder. Aspirations. It would be well perhaps, if there were some beings liv- ing around us on earth, transcendent and superior to man, that we might compare ourselves with them, and see what it is that we wish, and hope to be. Or if we could realize the ten fabulous creations of men recorded in the Hindoo My- thology, and trace among them the characteristics of a higher and nobler race whose attributes might meet our anticipa- tions, and harmonize with our ever unsatisfied aspirations. MEN. 27 Treatment. Let a man be treated as a brute, and he will become more brutish than a brute ; as a saint, and he will be a saintly hyprocrite ; but as a rational being, and he will show that he is so. As to Duties and Obligations. " Man," says Montesquieu, " like all finite intelligences, is subject to ignorance and error. Even his imperfect know- ledge he loscth ; and as a sensible creature, he is hurried away by a thousand impetuous passions. Such a being might every instant forget his Creator ; God has therefore reminded him of his duty by the laws of religion. Such a being is liable every moment to forget liimself ; philosophy has provided against this by the laws of morality. Formed to live in society, he might forget his fellow creatures ; le- gislators have therefore, by political and civil laws, confined him to his duty. Knowledge of Men. In all the aflliirs of life, but more especially in those great enterprises which require the co-operation of others, a knowledge of men is indispensable. By means of it, Crom- well and Napoleon not only gained possession of power, but knew how to exercise it ; while Dion, for the want of it, failed in giving freedom to the Syracusans, notwithstanding they abetted him, and were urgent fo? it. This knowledge implies not only quickness of penetration, and sagacity, but many otlier superior elements of character. For it is important to perceive, not merely in whom we can confide, but to main- tain that influence over them which secures their good faith, and defeats the unsteady purposes of a wavering and dis- honest mind. And the world always laughs at those feilures which arise from weakness of judgment and defect of pene- tration. , Various Destinies. What a motley and heterogeneous throng is the race of man ! How various and complicated the currents of their 28 MEN. destiny ! Some are the select favorites of fortune, others the ugly victims of despair. Some are permitted to dwell in peace, others are dragged fortli for slaughter ! Or, " Grinding through rough and smooth their way, Through foul and fair their task fultiliing." A few live comfortably, die happily, and are entombed splen- didly. Others struggle on in life, and at death are cheated out of a decent burial, or become defunct unluckily on the same day as some groat man, who gets the benefit of the world's talk and glory, and eclipses them even in this last act of their lives. Great and little Men. Ordinary individuals sometimes show themselves capable of perfonning extraordinary actions. Thus little men occa- sionally imagine themselves to be great, but are so only in presumption and arrogance. The fewer such in any town or country, the better. Anticipations. Our recollections of what we have been, constitute our anticipations of what we wish to be hereafter. Temptation. When lust, ambition, interest, urge desires, The best of men become the worst of liars. If saints by rule, or only good by fits. Such men, when tempted, turn to hypocrites ; Their pious phrases pious thoughts supplant. And great professions end in fudge and cant. Men of great Talents. Men of great talents generally have finely formed heads, united very often to ill-proporlioned bodies. They are not remarkable for merry and jocund countenances, nor for " fair round bodies, with good capon lined ;" on the contrary, they are generally the reverse of all this ; for sadness often gives a pensive limning to their features, and " melancholy marks MEN. 29 them for her own." Great men are generally so by one great act, or this is father to all the rest. Excitements of Passion. Religion and war, peace and strife, security and danger, poverty and wealth, hope and fear, all develop and keep alive those passions and feelings which diversify the scenes of life, and make up the private and public history of man. Every individual has something to contend for ; and occa- sions come, whether sought for or not, which are destined to prove his powers and test the feasibility of his endeavors. And great interests, comparatively speaking, are always at stake, as some advancement or some retrocession must be made. In this point of view, every man possesses a modicum of consequence in the world, and not only his own, but the hap- piness of others is associated with his conduct, his capabili- ties, his character, and his success. Something must be ha- zarded, and something must be won : ''And that unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man !" Sorrows and Perversities. Perverse, miserable, and unhappy man ! Poets have sung to him, moralists and divines have preached, and authors written — yet is he still erring, wandering, wretched, discon- tented, uncorrected and incorrigible ! Poor, bare, forked ani- mal, that carries his pans on his knees, and nails on his toes and fingers ! " Pendulum betwixt a smile and tear." The glory, jest, and riddle of the world. Self-interest. It is impossible to place two persons side by side, and looking in the same direction, so that their hearts shall beat next to one another. Individual Man. Imperfectly understood and appreciated by the Greeks, who, in their disproportionate admiration of heroes, overlook- 30 THE WORLD, ed what was due to the common and every-day qualities of men, man, in his private and individual capacity, rises into me- rited importance only when he begins to be conscious of his dignity, and sensible of those inalienable rights and immuni- ties with which he is endowed by nature. Wliile the Greeks were ever ready to sacrifice their most distinguished citizens to the vociferous clamors of popular prejudice, the Roman, in his best days, felt proud and secure in the enviable title of a Roman citizen. It is tlien the conception of individual rights, — it is the consciousness of freedom and independence, that elevates, exalts, and ennobles man — which inspires him with the great- est self-respect, and with the strongest patriotic attachment. He feels that he has duties to perform and rights to exercise. He is not an idle and careless spectator, but an active and efficient co-operator in the affairs of the world, and more es- pecially of his own country ; and however poor, humble, and obscure he may be, " A man 's a Mail for a' that." But if he should advance one step further — if to inherent he adds self-acquired privileges — if culture and elevation of mind are blended with faithfulness, and with courtesy and dignity of manners, — if scorning every thing that is paltry, base, and unprincipled, he adheres to ail that is noble, vir- tuous, and high-minded, thanking the gods, like Plato, iJiat he was born a man, — or briefly, if he is, in word, thought, and act, all that true nobility of nature and real refinement can make him, then doth he embody one of the finest impersona- tions of poetry — " A combination, and a form indeed. Where every God did seem to set his seal. To give the world assurance of a man." THE WORLD. Things worth possessing. There are in the world few things, the best realities, that are woi'th having. These are monopolized by the minority. THE WORLD. 31 but all expect to acquire them. It is contention and reten- tion, striving and ^\ arring on all sides. In this manner the life-contest is maintained, and the love of possession never dies. In fact, there ai*e in the world these three kinds of things, the valuable, the non-valuable, and the invaluable, and it is a long time before we decide in our minds which of them we have been endeavoring to obtain. Wonders and Delusions. In the Heroic Age of the world, some majestic monument of art, or some grand and stupendous exhibition of skill and power alone could pass for a world's wonder, and the grand total of all these was only seven. In the Speculative Age of the world, the wonders and delusions mount up by scores. When the elves were all chased away, times began to grow dull ; Chaucer sung of them and after them, " I spekc of many hundred yeres ago, But now can no man see none elves mo." The elves have fled, but other phantoms and will-o'-wisps rise up out of the rank and luxuriant fens of ignorance and superstition, and corruscate awhile. As those luminous bodies of inflammable gas show the nature of the locality which produces them, so the world's phantoms and delusions indicate the state of society which engenders them. Men and the World. We desire to know men before we confide in them, and to comprehend the world before we rely upon it. Alas ! when we have acquired these useful kinds of knowledge, we forthwith wish that we had never advanced so far. We pre- fer to avoid men, and to shun the world, in order that we may seek in retirement, tlio only peace that is worth possess- ing, the only happiness wliicli is left us to enjoy ! Following the World. We may follow the world, or worship it and serve it, until at last it will repay this devotion only with neglect and in- gratitude. It will laugh at our folly, it will deride us for the opportunities which we have abused or neglected to improve, 32 THE WORLD, and upbraid us with those very deficiencies which itself has caused. Poor man of the world ! Poor wit about town ! " Yet still among your tribe, Our daily world's true worldlings, rank not me." Knowledge vs. Simplicity. Good education and unremitting study should be produc- tive of learning, if not of wisdom. But some minds learn more without books, than others with them. " I have known," says the curate in Don Quixote, " the woods to breed learned men, and simple sheepcots to contain philosopiiers." " It is insufferable," says Coleridge, " that those persons, who are constantly in tlie world, should ever remain ignorant of it, since it is the only kind of knowledge which they pretend to possess," as was remarked of Anson, that he circumnavigated the whole world, and saw it, but knew it not. It is awkward, embarrassing, unpardonable, and even detrimental not to know the world. But there is, with some enviable indi- viduals, a permanent simplicity of character, apparently in- corruptible and inexhaustible, which imparts to them perpetual gentleness and amiability — a long continued nonage and syl-. van verdancy. Who would wish to eradicate it, and to sub- stitute a brazen worldly knowledge in its place, or to ex- change this downy softness and delicate smoothness for the rough incrustations and cortical asperities of every-day life ? We may admire proofs of hardihood and assurance, but we involuntarily attach ourselves to simplicity and gentleness, and the best companions are not uncommonly the worst friends, and the most showy the least stable ; and in this category are we inclined to place the old stagers, the hard heads and leather jackets of the world. Cruel Indifference. A great many people have some knowledge of the world, although the world has no knowledge whatever of them, and no particular desire to acquire any. Hatred of the World. If the world hates us, more than roe hate the world, our chance of happiness is small, or it is wholly limited to our THE WORLD 33 particular feelings, capabilities and resources. But if we in- dulge a hatred of the world, and yet are dependent upon it, and cannot live without it, our lot is an unenviable one of discontent and torture. This world-hatred, however, is almost always traceable to some vicious experience or imperception — to some false reading "in the lore of right and wrong," or it proceeds from positive defects in ourselves, from a departure from thmgs simple and pure, whereby wc forfeit happiness without losing the sense of the proper basis on which it rests ; for, says St. Pierre, "even the men who are most perverted by the preju- dices of the world, find a soothing pleasure in contemplating that happiness which belongs to simplicity and virtue." Inhabitants. Peaceful people inliabit the plains and meadows, but fiercer kinds the mountains and deserts. And ease and luxury are as much coveted by the former, as they are contemned by the latter. Ordinary Knowledge of the World. Must a knowledge of the world be gathered wholly from lessons of depravity, or from examples of maltreated virtue ? Must we apply to the evil to learn the good ; or must the good be crushed to earth, to show the patience and perfection not only of long suffering, but of suff'i^ring wrongfully ? Our knowledge of the world is narrowed down to two points, — to a kind of mock study of certain sorts of zoology and ophiology, or to a critical examination of brutes and serpents. " Oh ! thou world ! Thou art indeed a melancholy jest." Insight. Perspicacious and sapient views of the world are acquired by prompt and clear perceptions of things, seeing into and through them, not only in their actual but in their progressive state, — by keeping up with the age, not falling in the rear- ranks of it, — by seizing the spirit of the times, and by distin- guisliiiig positive truths from dreamy abstractions. 34 THE WOULD. This kind of knowledge liits the taste and fancy, and strikes liie sense and judgment. It is comprehensive, subtle, practical, and philosopliical ; and none but acute and alert minds can acquire it, and use it to advantage. lis Injluence in forming Character. The world constitutes many men what tlicy are, and what they would never be without its plastic influences acting upon them, and moulding them like potter's clay into new forms. But this influence is a3sthetical and psychological. It pene- trates the thoughts and feelings, and its nature is to revolu- tionize and transform. It mollifies, it indurates, it embel- lishes, it deforms, it degrades, it elevates. We are through it convened into philanthropists or misanthropists ; into skep- tics or enthusiasts ; into drones and drivelers or into effi- cient and considerate beings, wise througii folly, victorious through defeat, resigned through suffering, and strong through infirmity, — all by the secret and active emanations of the world and its experiences, which are not always compre- hended aright, and which ^^w apply to the ends of practical and profitable knowledge. Practical Knowledge of the World.. That knowledge of the world which inculcates strict vigi- lance in regard to our individual interests and reputations ; which recommends the mastery of things to be held in our own hands ; or which enables us to live undamaged by the skillful manoeuvres and crafty plots of plausible men on the one hand, or uncontaminated by the depravities of unprinci- pled ones on the other, is of daily acquisition, and equally ac- cessible to all. But that higher worldly sagacity, which has reference to the elevated principles and complicated results of life, is more difficult to be acquired. The foundation of it is laid in the love of whatever is exalted, excellent, rare and pure; and we are taught by this knowledge, which is genuine wisdom, some abatement of our own perfections, and a juster appreciation of those of others, and to place a higher estimate upon what- ever is really true and good at heart, and not to be unn)ind- ful that the world abounds with sclf-compluccnt prophets, de- linquent censors, and unjust judges. THE WORLD. 35 Its Troubles. The moral elements of the world prevail no less univer- sally than the natural. Every heart that beats may be called upon to bleed. The fruits of life are mixed. The good and the bad go together. If we cull them, we must pay the higher price, but at last the best are only earthly fruits. Eusebius has well said, " He that would avoid trouble, must avoid the world." This maxim, however, teaches us neither bravery nor for- titude. Eusebius would have enlightened us more, if he had taught us why it is that the best people so frequently have the worst time of it ; or if he had shown us how we might still live in the world, and endure its perturbations, or at least ma- nage to receive no more than our proper share and proportion of them. Courting the World's Esteem. If our circumstances in life are advantageous, in seeking the world's good opinion, we generally assign them the first place, and ourselves the second. If they are unfavorable, we put ourselves forward first, and condemn the other practice loudly as being highly improper. Worldly Wisdom. There is a simple and common ordeal through which all pass, and mankind have generally adopted it to illustrate the initial experience of life. It is dentition. It is accompanied with considerable pain, and some danger, inasmuch as it is the hard penetrating through the soft. The weak and frail sink under it, but the strong and robust survive it. It has been remarked, that even persons advanced in years, who have these useful organs reproduced again, after the earlier sets have been removed, have still to pass through the same trials, and to endure the same pains as at first. So it seems that there is no cutting one^s teeth without un- dergoing the pains of dentition. We pass from the milky to the mature, from the cartilaginous to the osseous states of ex- istence. 36 THE WORLD. Mistaken Knowledge of the World. Most men's knowledge of the world is experience, derived either from some delusion, or from some abomination ; from an acquaintance with the cunning managements and decep- tions of life, and that kind of conceit which springs from glim- mering, scanty, and one-sided views of things ; or it is abused and ill-requited confidence pushed to the extremity of endur- ance and disgust, and greatly enhanced by amplification. Many, besides, boast most of what they know least ; and a man may disclaim all other kinds of knowledge, and under- value it, but still persuade himself that he is a perfect master of this, although he has never thoroughly studied it. A weak and narrow-minded person's discernment of the world, like all his other knowledge, is not only frivolous and shallow, but ridiculous and provoking. He has solved one or two prob- lems, and they the very plainest in the geometry of life, and concludes that he comprehends the whole science, and is com- petent to the quadrature of all sciences. Obligations to the World. Every one owes especial obligations to the world, not only for the good he receives, but even for the ills which befall him, and the rebuffs and back-handed favors which are his portion of life's patrimony. There is a natural and indispensable confraternity and communism in the world — an association of toil and talent, mind and means, more effectual, perhaps, than any others that might be devised, without those powers of at- trition and collision which rub off the incrustations, and brighten the opacities of human nature. It is co-operative la- bor and competitive skill which make the town and country habitable, and which produce all the wonderful displays of art. We all pull in the traces, and every one has a draught harness buckled on his back, and contributes his aid in wheel- ing on the great work-shop of the world. We serve others, and others serve us by turns and by trade, by hands and by heads. As we receive, so we impart, — the greatest credit belonging to him who does most and best, while all of us do more or less for posterity, as our progenitors likewise have done much for us. SOCIETY. 37 Knowledge of the World gradually acquired. A knowledge of the world embraces so many principles and theories, and withal is so intricate, various, and contra- dictory, that it is not to be obtained except in detail. It requires many observations accurately made and stu- died, and deductions carefully drawn, preserved, and applied, before we shall make any material advances in an undertak- ing like this. No painter sits down to make a collection of his art by his own pencil at once. It is done piecemeal, and subject by subject ; and when a large number of pieces is completed in an approved manner, the whole is then exhibited for profit, instruction, admiration, and delight. This World and the next. We perceive, in some measure, how this world is related to the next, inasmuch as whatever is good and lovely in this, ever touches closely upon that. Tlie lowest descent of the highest joins the highest ascent of the lowest. Or, this world is only the first letter in the alphabet of an eternal life, and of innumerable worlds ; and the perfection and variety of forms and emblems here, suggest the boundless resources of their developing and verifying principles hereafter. SOCIETY. Different Periods or Stages. Previously to the reformation, the predominating influence which controlled society was the ecclesiastical and monastic ; subsequently, it was the spirit of politics and philosophy ; and lastly, that of commerce and the industrial arts. In the first period, vast churches and convents were erected ; in the second, they were demolished ; in the last, ships and railroads were built, and school-houses and con- venticles established. The first condition was that of isola- tion ; the second, concussion ; the third, progression and intercommunication. The old and the new elements, how- ever, yet coexist together ; and it will be difiicult, if not im- 38 SOCIETY. possible, for the. character of men to become so modified that the latter shall ever gain a complete triumph over the former. The minds of some men are naturally attached to the quiet of despotism and the shackles of authority ; others arc ad- dicted to agitation and speculation ; while others, still, take delight in the prospects of an endless progression. The Intelligent and Accomplished. We propose, or should propose to ourselves, some good or high aim in our social intercourse with the world. New feelings, new ideas, new associations are acceptable to us, and we naturally seek and covet those which are elevated and advantageous. And we may grow weary of all other pleasures, but we never tire of intelligent and accomplished society. Who are best qualijiedfor it ? They who are best qualified to confer benefits upon so- ciety, to adorn and dignify it, are seldom found in it. When they make theij: appearance, they are regarded as curious objects of wonder and astonishment. But the astonishment and surprise are no doubt mutual, and the discoveries made on both sides very great. Exclusiveness. They who stand, or desire to stand alone, should not be like peaks of a lofty mountain, which are seen in the dis- tance, but are approached with difficulty. They should rather resemble islands which are detached, but yet are open and accessible on all sides. Solitude and Society. Earth hath its solitudes, and so hath life. If we abandon the gardens and the groves, the forests and the fields, to dwell only in gloomy caves, dismal with darkness, or in sandy deserts where the refreshing rains and dews never fall, and trees and herbs never grow, and where there is neither sustenance nor companionship, how dreary and dreadful is SOCIETY. 39 the scene ! But there is no solitude so cheerless and for- saken, so wearisome and hopeless, so desolate and forlorn, as that of the human heart! Degrees or Stages. Society is like air — very high up, it is too suhlimated, too low down, dans le bas etage, it is a perfect choke-damp. Mixtures^ Adulterations, and Substitutions. The wine is seldom pure, the ciieap cotton is mixed with the more costly linen and silk, owls look wiser than eagles, and many a sheepskin passes for chamois. Pretension and Pretenders. Society is so much under the dominion of accidental con- ditions and ritual ohscrvanccs, tiiat its highest stations are not unfrequcntly usurped by those wlio possess no other merit than that they are able to conform to all its external rules and conventional ceremonies. Laces and liveries supply the place of minds and manners, and pages and equipages esta- blish the most unquestionable claims to distinction and rank. Strange, that pretension and arrogance should be so infa- tuated, as to assume the government and direction of social affairs, or that they who are demented by them should be- lieve themselves entitled to be courted and caressed, adulated and extolled, when they really deserve to be disciplined and drilled, or to be cudgeled and cufFed. The Vulgar and the Refined. A practised eye, at once, by look, by air, Discerns the finer from the meaner ware. And needs no rules of science to be told, Which is the spurious, which the genuine gold. Castes. In India there are about a half-dozen different castes, the lowest of which are regarded as having no souls. In Japan, the tanners and leather dressers are looked upon as the scum of the earth, and the disgrace of the world. 40 SOCIETY. Under the delightful government of Russia, there are thirteen classes of citizens, the fag-oiuls of which, ijicluding traders and dealers, are dedicated to the discipline of the cane. In free countries, the castes are innumerable, but generally speaking, every one considers himself equal to any body else, if not superior, but all doubtful points of rank and pre- cedence are elfectually settled by the length of the purse, and the quality and fashion of the clothes. Quick Perceptions necessary. In society, quickness of perception and ready presence of mind are required. The French employ a good term to characterize those persons who imagine, after they have left company, how many fine and brilliant things they might have said, if they had remained longer in it. They are styled les esprits des escaliers, " Knights of the Ladder," — they who think while descending the stairs, upon what they might have said, but did not say, before they left the parlor. Good Society. In good society, one meets with good dancing, good dresses, good creams, good heads of hair, and good com- plexions. The Arctic Colony of Old Women. Captain Parry records in the Narrative of his Expedition to the North Pole, one of the most remarkable facts men- tioned in any history — that he came upon an Arctic island that was inhabited exclusively by old women. Speculation is at a loss to account for this curious circumstance, this droll phenomenon. Were these Arctic old ladies assembled there for pleasure or for profit, for punishment or for peace ? Was it an exile or an asylum, prison bounds or a retreat, that these ancient dames should there have congregated together to live all alone, without children or chickens, without spouses or spectacles, protectors, friends, or any such accompani- ments ? Had they found the cares and persecutions of Arctic society too caustic ? or were the affections so mucii colder in those frozen regions than in the inlor-tropical lati- tudes ; and were they all " Abovp life's weakness and its comforts too 1" SOCIETY. 41 One would like to know how this community and grannery was regulated, and how availing were the moralizing medi- tations which called up in review the enchanting, but illusive visions of eras past and gone, ere the transitory charms of life had faded away, or had become embodied in ghostly dreams, and when saddened looks and lengthened sneers had not bitterly repaid the treacherous allurements and corroding disappointments of earlier times, " When life was new. And the heart promised what the fancy drew." Asking for a Sign. In society, you must never ask for a sign ; but if it is given, and you fail to understand, and take it, it is a bad sign for you. Changeable Elements of Society. Society is constantly changing its elements. Its losses are great, but its gains are ever accruing to supply their place. The old retire — the young advance, — Life's but a giddy, whiding dance. And " when our shoes are danced through we run on bare soles." External Aspects and Concealed Corruptions. Every where society a.ssumes a fair and specious outside, but every where also it is more or less unsound at heart, and corrupt at the core. The daily holocausts of common delin- quents produce no profound or lasting results, but now and then some great and conspicuous offender is caught, some splendid victim is impaled upon the flaming altar of Public Virtue, and every body is amazed, and not a few alarmed, lest their own turn should also next come to be similarly detected and punished. The accumulations of individual, make up the entire sum of the general corruptions ; the infection spreading from one to another, from low to high, and from high to low, until few arc wholly exempt from it ; and the effects are finally manifested in the shape of dreadful disorders and outbreaks in the social 42 BUSINESS state and body politic, the crises of which resemble those of the storm, the volcano, and the earthquake, — the mobile and volatile commotions of the first, the fervid and fiery ebulli- tion and desperation of the second, and the dreadful subver- sions and disturbing forces of the third, with all the wild confusion and turbulent energy of elementary agitation — the ethereal — the inflammable — and the impressible — all acting and acted upon, and tending to a peaceable, salutary, natural, and well regulated equilibrium. BUSINESS. Indispensahle. Business is not only an indispensable necessity, but an irresistible desire in the heart of man. How restless and uneasy the want of it makes us ; and occasional perplexities with it, are a thousand times preferable to the frequent tor- ments without it — for to have no business is to be cut off from the rest of the world, and to exist in a state of listless isolation and exclusion. " Thou wouldst, forsooth, be something in a state, And business thou wouldst find, and wouldst create ; Business ! the frivolous jjretence 01' human lusts to shake off innocence ; Business! the grave impertinence ; Business! the tiling which I of all things hate. Business! the contradiction of thy fate." Cowley's Complaint. The Naine. Business implies occupation, or employment in some affairs. But with the Romans, it denoted self-denial of ease, nego otium (ncgotium), I renounce all pleasure and self- indulgence for the sake of business ; and that is the life and soul of it, and the true secret of its prosperity and success. Practical Knoioledge of Business. The moral maxim, " that we cannot serve two masters," is applicable to nothing more strictly than to trade. That culling requires a watchful and devoted attention to the ob- BUSINESS. 43 jects in view, to the one all-governing rule and aim. One must be " totits hi illus,''' wliolly absorbed, to insure success ; and with these qualifications, if prudence be not wanting, success is not apt to be impossible. Nullum numcn abest si nit prudcntia. It is said that Plautus, the Roman comic writer, acquired a handsome fortune by his comedies. He was afterwards tempted to embark in trade, and met Avith such severe losses that he was in consequence reduced to the necessity of working in a mill in order to obtain a sup- port. What a grinding occupation and unpoetical business it must have been to him ! Regular Occupation. The experience of life demonstrates that a regular and systematic business is essential to the health, happiness, con- tentment, and usefulness of man. Without it, he is uneas)^, unsettled, miserable, and wretched. His desires have no fixed aim, his ambition no high and noble ends. He is the sport of visionary dreams and idle fancies — a looker-on where all are busy ; a, drone in the hive of industry ; a moper in the field of enterprise and labor. If such were the lot of the feeble and helpless only, it were less to be deplored; but it is oftener the doom and curse of those who have the power to do, without the will to act, and who need that quality which makes so many others, but the want of which un- makes them — the quality of vigor and resolution. Business is the grand regulator of life. Overreaching. In dealing, we must in most cases submit to the dealer. The advantage is naturall}'^ on his side, but he takes double advantage of an advantage ; and frequently, if we buy only an e^^, or an oyster, something extra must be paid for the shell ; if a bundle, a trifle for the string ; and twenty per cent, more for the rent of the store. If we have a knack of buying witliout money and are hooked, then the double and single entry process is served upon us. A Poor Business. A needy fellow once approached Louis XIV, and im- plored alip.s of him. " What business do you follow ?" in- 44 BUSINESS. quired the king. " May it please your majesty," replied the supplicant, " I am a maker of epigrams." " No wonder, then," observed the monarch, " that you arc poor, you fol- low a poor trade." A Bad Business. Khol, in his travels in Russia, observes, that while at Moscow, he happened to take a stroll through one of the markets of that city. He saw there a man, who sold frozen fisli by the pound. " Friend," said he to him, " how do you come on in your business V " Thank God," replied the man, " very badly." Success in Business. If we were to consult the annals of commercial life, we should find that, in most instances, the men who have been distinguished for success in business are of the same stamp as those who have been eminent in the walks of litera- ture and science. They have been characterized by self- denying habits, by simple tastes, and by unpretending man- ners ; whilst the bold, the vain, the presumptuous and the reckless, have done immense mischief to themselves and others in the departments of trade, dissevering the bonds of confidence and good feeling, and often scattering havoc and ruin around them. The same principles and motives of action prevail in the good, the wise, and the prudent among all sorts of men. It is that wisdom which is unpretending and boasteth not, and that quiet sort of penetration and saga- city which is little exposed to self-flatteries and delusions, which are often more injurious and ruinous than all the worldly artifices and deceptions which are practised upon us. The Shrewd Men. Men who are so shrewd and well-practised in the en- snaring arts of business that no one can possibly circumvent them, are very often self-circumvented in their efforts to surpass others. Nothing is more common than for those persons to deceive themselves, whom nobody can deceive. Thus the simple and the wise are brought at last to occupy BUSINESS. 45 the same level, for the cunning of the wise is taxed for the simplicity of the simple. Moreover, in business, as in po- litics, the crafty are not the profound. Good and III Effects of Business. " Business," says a celebrated writer, " is the salt of life." Nevertheless it is a death potion to many. Whole hecatombs of victims fall daily under the perilous and bur- densome weight of its cares, its responsibilities, and its re- verses. To conduct a great business with permanent sticcess, requires adequate, and even remarkable mental and physical qualifications, a strong and active mind with good practical common sense, and a sound and vigorous constitution. It exacts powers of thought and capabilities of endurance which are not to be expected in the feeble and inefficient, the reckless or inactive. Under every advantage, the difficulties and dangers may prove formidable and fatal. But on the other hand, business is a fine and heaUhful stimulus, since they who abandon all regular occupation are frequently the victims of ennui and mental agony, and become discontented, captious, frivolous, and unhappy, if not worthless. They lack that salt of life, which communicates a wholesome and seasonable flavor to every thing, and is as necessary to intellectual support as the most useful and indispensable of all condiments is to bodily sustenance. Indolence has no pleasures like activity ; and he who becomes a slave to luxury and ease, repines in secret over the animating ardor and vigorous enterprises of the past. Want of employment is the most irksome of all wants, and is often more penal and severe than any labor. " He saps his goodly strength in toils which yield not Health like the chase, nor glory like the war ;" even the chase after distinction and wealth, and that kind of war and strife which are met with in the zealous and busy ranks of industry and competition. 46 FAVOR FAVOR. Dispensing Favors — A good Rule to follow. Favors properly bestowed and received, are like truth and righteousness kissing each other. But, when we deprive the good, to befriend the bad, it is taking " the children's bread, and casting it unto the dogs." " He that is merciful With the bad, is crael to the just." The best rule, it has been said, for dispensing favors, is " to bestow them on those to w^hom we may do good, rather than upon those who are able to do good to us." For, " that is not a benefit which is given for gain." Reciprocating Favor. Inability to reciprocate favors is frequently charged to the account of parsimony, selfishness, or ingratitude. '* Never let the morsel freeze between the dish and the mouth." Be not too late in acknowledging favors, for according to an old writer, " the graces are painted young ;" nor too in- different, for that appears like shuffling off an obligation. Danger of accepting Favor. When we accept a favor, we are in danger of sacrificing our independence, unless the motives which lead to the offer- ing of it are as justifiable as our own in receiving it. Also we run the risk of humbling ourselves only in order to ele- vate others above us. Enmity and Favor. Many gain favor because their enmity is not dreaded, and others because it is. Benefits Impaired. There is a niggardly manner of conferring or doing gracious things, which utterly destroys their benefit ; or if it does not, the claims of acknowledgment are greatly dimi- nished and qualified thereby. FAVOR. 47 Bestowing properly. The parsimony of Swifi is well known, and it may have been under the influence of his stinted feelings, that he once said, " A great man observed, that nothing required more judgment than making a present." With Swift, the difliculty of e.xercising this judgment was so great that he never exer- cised it at all. An over-stock of prudence is always fatal to the cause of benevolence. An Apologue — ( Compassion . ) A ray of light descended from heaven and penetrated into a dismal and gloomy dungeon. It was a bright and cheerful beam of joy and hope, and kindled new and livelier feelings in the heart. It was a welcome messenger from on high to a wretched outcast on earth. Man, is thy mercy small, when the bounty of heaven is without bounds ? Small Favors. Doubtless there are times when even the smallest favors are gratefully received ; but when great returns are expected for them, we should treat our benefactors to the compliment of the Spanish proverb, A otro perro con esse huesso — Throtv that bone to some other dog. " I remember," said Sancho, " the old saying, ' when the ass is given thee, run and take him by the halter ; and when good luck knocks at the door, let him in, and keep him there.' " Favor and Artifice. Those suitors are not satisfied merely to obtain a favor, who with it wish also to gain an advantage, in the same way as generosity is a temptation to cupidity. Signor Geri, (in the Decameron,) requested some of Cisti the baker's wine. When he sent too large a bottle, he received none, but afterwards a smaller one, and it was filled. Favor and Experience. Here builds the world one of the vast storehouses of its experience. A thoiis uid roads lend to it, and all kinds and 48 FAVOR. classes of travelers deposit there the lost remembrances of love — the dear-bought commodities of friendship, and the bitter fruits of that wisdom which they were slow to acquire, and which they so often obtained at the expense of sighs and tears. It is a merchandise of the human affections only in which we dealt, and we are compelled to learn the quality of the staple, and something of its marketable value. How few are the good bargains that are made ! How few the prosperous traders ! How numerous are the taxes and draw- backs ! And when at last we come to pay off all the losses and scores, our real gains are found to be extremely small, insufficient, and unsatisfactory ! As to Friendship and Enmity. While in the enjoyment of favors, some are only weak friends, but when refused them, are strong enemies. Con- cessions may be denied with impunity to inferiors, but it is dangerous to give denials to equals, or superiors. Favor and Suction. Things that imbibe merely, are of a spongy nature, and fish that' live on suction are generally fat and plump, in good condition, but rather soft and delicate. As a Test of Character. In two points of view, favor may be regarded as a test of character. In the first place, to be above it; to show a stout and steadfast reliance upon one's own powers snd resources ; to supplicate not the smiles of fortune, and to be fearless of its frowns, implies a proud and independent spirit, and a con- scious loftiness of soul fit for great and worthy deeds. Se- condly, to have the means of dispensing favors, in other words, of doing good, and to act with kindness and judgment; to avoid ostentation ; to reject unworthy motives ; and to esteem every act of duty as a source of pleasure, and which carries with it a higher satisfliction than the mere sordid love of gain can ever bestow ; — all this evinces a commendable and praiseworthy tone of character; and if the first example shows how meritorious a resolute, independent, and manly self-reliance is ; the last exhibits a picture of that sort of ef- FAVOR. 49 ficient and unboasting benevolence which is the salt of the world, and the virtuous pride and glory of human nature. Favor and Generosity. The niggardly and parsimonious thrive only in one sense, that is, by gain, sordid and selfish gain. If they fail there, all is lost, for they have no claims to partiality and esteem. " In generous deeds a rich reward we find. And heaven is always just, when man is kind." Favor vpon Condition. Favor upon condition is commonly known as quid pro quo, or a sort of mutual tickling — you tickle me, and III tickle you ; and this sort of kindness is perhaps the safest of all, or is accompanied with the fewest risks. Such is the favor usually met with in the world, and they are gifted with great good luck who are fortunate enough to receive any other. Sacrifices. The time must eventually arrive when sacrifices must cease for the benefits of others. Every back is sufficiently burdened, and the only disinterested part of our lives is that in which we require but little, and when we have nothing to bestow. But in general, nothing is so much lauded and ex- aggerated as personal sacrifices. Every where are they am- plified and misrepresented. Touch the person or the purse and we soon discover it. The Hazardous Nature of Favor. What a world do we live in ! If we confer a favor, or if we ask a favor, we are equally in danger of making ene- mies ; and in the world's estimation the very word favor has an odious sound. After- Consequences of Refusals. Self-interest and candor are seldom united together, and many mockeries accompany apparent sincerity and mere 3 50 FAVOR. ingratiation of manner. When justified in our own eyes, the misfortune is tliat we are not always justified in the eyes of others; and inferences are constantly deduced from denials of favors which circumstances do not warrant ; and more in- justice is done to him who refuses than to him who is re- pelled. At first, these impressions are feeble and indistinct, but they acquire strength dnd activity by being indulged, when fanciful conjectures assume the shape of positive con- victions. And yet these suppressed sentiments, for a long time, may not be manifested by visible acts; as in Pope's character of Atticus, some secret opposition and ill-will, envy or jea- lousy, hatred or distrust, are nourished in the heart, " Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault and hesitate dislike ; Alike reserved to blame, or to commend, A timorous foe and a suspicious friend." In general, the refusal of favors soon extinguishes that friend- ship which is held together solely by benefits and expecta- tions, or is so subject to them that we are not allowed to be just to ourselves, nor generous in our own way. Favor and Disappointment. Great is the disappointment, frequently, when only small requests are refused, therefore they are not to be rejected in a dogmatical manner. But if we intend to use the blunt monosyllable, then " he is less deceived that is soon denied," and very obliging if he spares us his after-commentaries upon our acts. Favor and Time. Favors too long sought are at last doubly and trebly paid for, and thus are too dearly won. Favors should be timely sought, timely bestowed, and timely obtained. In Regard to the Sexes. Most women expect some marks of grace or distinction fi'om men. Condescension and favor are their natural and prescriptive claims ; a sort of benefit of clergy to which they FAVOR. 51 are entitled, and which is universally conceded when justice is done to them. But there are some men who seek to reverse this natural law of life, and who depend upon, and expect every thing from the weaker sex. The gladiatorship of the world is so powerfully contested, that men think little of him who skulks from the conflict, yet manages without risk to carry off the prize. Especially do they abhor him, if he is indebted less to talents and energy than to intrigue and favor ; or if he regards the approbation of women more than the suffrages of men, and reflects upon the judgment of tlie latter, the estimation he has obtained, through the prayers and praises of some old woman, or through the approving and enriching smiles of some young one. Contempt of Favor. We do not ask or desire any offerings of affection from those whom we do not love, and spurn the gift on account of the giver, " And think as little of the gift. As of the one who gave." Princij)h' of Charity. If that which we possess is useless to us, but would be useful to others ; or, if in other hands it would be a source of greater good than it is in ours, we should not be unwilling to dispense with it, either entirely or in part. The super- fluity which we enjoy, is a fund placed in our possession by the Author of good works, for suitable investment ; and, by the proper management and application of it, we may gain the praises of men, and the blessings of heaven. " The ta- lent of doing good" was the motto of a Portuguese prince, who himself must have been good. And " certainly," says Lord Bacon, " it is heaven on earth, to have a man's mind move in charity." Right and left-handed Favor. Benefits accrue upon benefits. " One good turn deserves another." Sometimes, nay, frequently, one ill turn lays the foundation for another, and then it is like snow falling up- on ice. 52 FAVOR. Who}n to ask ? This is a difficult question, since " to ask for a thing is to pay the highest price for it." The rich are able, but illibe- ral ; the poor, generous, but lack ability ; friends turn away ; enemies deride ; the world scorns ; and supplication is a token of inferiority. After many rebuffs, cold looks and shoulders, soothing words, plausible smiles, lame apologies, and deep, anguishing mortifications, the true, kind, and con- siderate benefactor may perhaps be found at last, and gene- rally it is one who, of all others, was least relied upon ; some young person not petrified by worldly experience, nor lacerated by severe disappointments — or it may be, some plain, upright, and unpretending, and not very sanctified in- dividual, nor one that is too gracious and smiling, who had the smallest place in our calculations, but who is destined to possess the largest claims upon our gratitude. Subjection and Favor. He who lives under continual subjection and indenture to favor, occupies a false and fatal position, and must hazard every thing to correct it. To assert his independence, is to be considered arrogant and presumptuous ; but to offer no re- sistance, is to endure unqualified contumely and degradation. It is better to be ignorant of our rights, than to know them and yet to lack the courage to assert and maintain them. In a word, he who is constantly subject to favor, must sooner or later cut the cord which binds him, balloon-like, to the stake, and mount in his own parachute. Allusions to Favor. To forbear making allusions to favors conferred, is some- times to confer a greater favor than all the previous services already rendered. To declare these allusions openly, is to offer the greatest insult that can be given, and one that is sel- dom pardoned. Trusting to Favor. Trust not to favor ; it is like traversing the shining gla- ciers, and relying upon " the uncertain footing of a spear." FAVOR. 53 It is as if one were gathering diamonds in a desert, where sharp pebbles shoot up to cut the feet, and venomous scor- pions dart forth to sting the hand. " Trust him not ; his words, though sweet, Seldom with his heart do meet." Continuance of Favor. Nothing short of the permanent attributes of Supreme Goodness, can insure an unremitting succession of favors without scruples and reproaches, without upbraidings and suspicions, or without arrogant demonstrations of superiority and power. The streams of human kindness and mercy are scant and partial, and are sooner or later cut off. Patronage becomes the hardest servitude, and we grow weary of eating that bread, wiiich is the bread of mourners, and which is earned by the tears of the eyes, and not by the sweat of the brow. We are of those whom Posthumus bewailed : " Poor wretches that depend On greatness' favor, dream as I have done ; Wake and find nothing." Rebukes assail us, which cry out, " Oh, nourishment and favors ill-bestowed." Still more pungent and severe are our own compunctions and regrets, and private broodings over our misfortunes and helplessness. " Thou sbalt prove How salt the savor is of others' bread. How liard the passage to descend and climb By others' stairs." Co7ijidencc and Kindness. We cannot always confide in all those who are disposed to confide in us. But it is strange and inexplicable that we should be unwilling to serve those who serve us. Confidence may not be reciprocal, but kindness should be. Dijicullics and Scruples. As there arc two parties, so there are two sides to every question of favor. There is the proposition or demand on one side, and the assent or denial on the other. Now, few 54 FAVOR. persons like to break with a friend, and there is great danger of doing it, if we act an unfriendly part ; and the difficulty consists in so acting as to be just to ourselves, and not unjust lo him. Perhaps the request comes in a shape that is strange and staggering, and at a time that is inconvenient and embarrassing ; it may involve responsibilities which we can- not safely incur, or terms with which we cannot easily comply ; or refer to some affairs with which we are little acquainted, and do not like to meddle with. The suitor is much more familiar wqth these bearings upon the case than we are, and has had leisure to revolve them all in his mind, and no doubt has applied to others, and been repulsed before he came to us. We are taken by immediate surprise, and must decide forthwith, without time for deliberation ; for to hesitate, is almost to refuse, and a refusal offends outright. Some individuals are so adroit, and so well practised in courtly epithets and graces, that they can at once escape from a pressing difficulty with gracious bows and smiles — with fair words, but empty deeds. But all insincerity and double dealing sooner or later engender distrust and aliena- tion of feeling. If demands, therefore, are made upon us, which are beset with impediments and scruples, and we are unwilling to expose too frankly those private relationships in which every one stands, we have nothing more to do than to appeal to the convictions of truth and candor ; and then, if we are compelled to forfeit an uncertain friend, we have at least preserved a certain principle of action ; and if we are blamable in his eyes, we are justifiable in our own. Kindness and Treachery. Kindness sometimes lays us open to our enemies, and shows us to be weak and unsuspecting at the very time when we should be strong, and on our guard. So Joram wel- comed Jehu, " Is it peace, Jehu ?" to receive in return the sa- lutation of death ; and Judas betrayed, and Joab stabbed with a kiss. Favor and Adversity. In a letter to the Empress Josephine, on the eve of his de- parture for Elba, Napoleon observes : " How many are the men of whom a false estimate is entertained ! I have heaped FAVOR. 55 benefits upon millions of wretches ! What have they in the end done for me ? They have all betrayed me, — ^yes, all !" When Charles I was undergoing similar trials, and had been thrown into prison, in the verses which he left behind him he records the same painful testimony against the fidelity of friends in misfortune. The sentiments of the royal muse are pathetic, but the expressions not very elegant. " The fiercest furies that do daily tread Upon my grief, my grey discrowned head. Are those that owe my bounty for their bread." " Fortune makes him grateful," says Publius Syrus, " whom nobody ever saw." Favor Absolute. Requests issued like bulletins, or which are fulminated like positive orders, or words of command, and must be in- stantly obeyed as such, are rather appalling. They remind one of the mendicant friar in Gil Bias, who collected alms in a hat at the end of a loaded musket. If the contribution was paid, well and good, if not, the refractory were forthwith shot down. Living upon Favor. Some from choice, others from necessity, live altogether upon favor. They are either entirely helpless, or are sloth- ful, servile, time-serving, treacherous, and unprincipled. They receive favors, but never bestow them ; and they ac- knowledge no friends or acquaintances, but the wealthy and powerful, who have something to bestow, — some bones or bounties to throw away upon these cringing spaniels of the human race, who know how to adapt their bark and bite to all whom they meet. Imperfect Denials. The regret which the kind-hearted experience in denying favors, may lead to the granting of them afterwards with a better grace. But it is a concession which benevolence ex- acts of generosity, in defiance of inclination. 56 FAVOR. Dread of granting Favors. Some persons have a greater dread of granting a favor, when they apprehend it may be asked, than they have of sus- taining a loss which they might be in danger of incurring. Even an expenditure of kindly feeling is painful and em- barrassing to some people. Their stock of charity is prema- turely exhausted, like showers which evaporate before they reach the ground. Favorites. One favorite at a time is as much as we generally need, or desire to have. If other candidates present themselves, they are not elected, the office of love and favor being already filled. They must be content, therefore, with that love which is colored with jealousy, and that demonstration of it which is regarded as officious intrusion. There is no friend like a fa- vorite, but a favorite is scarce of friends, upon the principle of this legal maxim, that " the king should not confer a favor on one party, to the prejudice of another." As to Love and Friendship. Love and friendship delight in favor. It nourishes them for a little while, but in the end is apt to poison and destroy them both. Standard Value. Favors have no fixed, standard value, and the obligations which we repay by means of them, may be doubly and tre- bly paid, and yet not paid at all. For the want of such ac- knowledged value, endless misconceptions on many occasions constantly arise. Exaggerations of Favor. Favors which were conferred upon us by our friends, often come back upon us so much magnified by lapse of time, and distorted by intervening circumstances, that we are scarcely able to recognize the inconsiderable obligations which we once received. Our benefactors, like the Hibernian tithe proctors, are not FAVOR. 57 satisfied with a tenth, by way of return, but would take a twentieth if they could get it. Favor and Authority. Favor is often an obstacle to the exercise of authority, and alienates those who cannot be won by kindness, conciliation, good deeds, and fair words. Repetition of Favor. A repetition of favor is an additional trial of constancy and affection, and a further temptation to disappointment and in- gratitude. Reciprocal Character of Favor. They who have favors to bestow, if injudicious, are as much responsible for their misapplication, as the recipients for their ungrateful returns of them. Its Antagonist. The antagonist of favor is a brave and heroic mind, — a noble, self-relying, and independent spirit. Favor and Misfortune. The daily experience of life demonstrates, that there are many whose store of earthly possessions is prematurely ex- hausted by indiscriminate acts of generosity and benevolence, and who, in consequence of overmuch favor to others, are brought in the end to supplicate a little favor for themselves ; or, who have become reduced by charity to a state of charity. The generous become disabled, the opulent impoverished. " The victor overthrown, The arbiter of others' fate A supphant for his own." So the good physician in the Iliad, cheerfully dressed the bleeding wounds of others, but finally had painful wounds enough of his own to be mollified also. " The great Machaon, wounded in his tent, Now needs the succor which so oft he lent." 3* 58 FAVOR. The Close and Hardhearted. It is vain to look for acts of kindness and grace from some descriptions of people. They are naturally so selfish, so frigid, so suspicious, forbidding, repulsive, and disobliging, that they effectually discourage us from making any advances, or indulging in any flattering prospects of success, from our overtures to them. We migiit as well attempt to pick a hole tiirough a stone wall with a cambric needle, or to batter it down with egg-shells or pin-cushions, as to attempt to make the least impression upon a surly, crabbed, and stony heart. Disinterested Liherality. Many disinterested friends would persuade us by " the very easy arguments of love," that the rule o^ give and take, is a fair and beneficial rule of action. But they construe it in a sense to suit their own perverted views, and make it ap- ply thus : you give and I take, or I take and you give ; I play eagle and grasp, you play noddie and let go. All is my share, and nothing for you is yours. For, " Have is have, Near is far ofi", well won is still well shot." My name is Money-Love, I want all the money in the world, it is of no use to you. Withholding Favors. Withholding little favors sometimes makes great enemies. " Not Hebrew, Arabic, Syriac, Coptic, nor even the Chinese language seems half so diflicult tome," said the English pas- toral poet, Shenstone, " as the language of refusal." There is often much harassing vexation and mortification attending the demands and supplications for favor, and men boast of their previous exploits, in excuse of what they never design doing again, palliating denial by self-praise, and comforting our needs by fine eulogiums upon their generosity. But then, the grace of kindness is destroyed if we at first cau- tiously withhold a favor, and afterwards reluctantly grant it, for thereby we provoke the pride of refusal, and purchase dis- dain instead of gratitude. FAVOR. 59 The Parnienios. When Darius proposed to Alexander to join forces, and both united to conquer and govern the world, Parmenio said that he would accept of it if he were Alexander, — " And so would I, if I were Parmenio," replied the monarch. The Parmenios are ever ready to accede to what is plausible and specious, and are more fond of compromises and expedients, than of firm and independent trust in their own resources. Returns of, or Reciprocating Favor. The strong do not choose to remember the time when they were once weak, and the great unwillingly look back to the day of small things. Where there is no connecting tie, and no reasonable expectation, we may turn away with indif- ference or disdain from all supplications — but what generous and magnanimous heart can refuse honor for honor, service for service, and due for due, thinking only that now is noio and then was then ? Late Postponement of Favor. To pass a whole lifetime without performing a single generous act until the dying hour, when Death unlocks the grasp upon earthly possessions, is to live like the Talipat palm-tree of the East, which blooms not until the concluding year of its existence. The flower which is then produced is inclosed in a sheath, and when this expands, or rather ex- plodes, which it does with a loud noise, such a horrible odor is emitted, that the tree is frequently cut down to get rid of it. What more appropriate emblem could there be of the charity of those who postpone their munificence until the close of their lives, when a great report of it is made in the world ? They surrender every thing when they see that they cannot continue to keep possession, and are at last liberal, when they can no longer be parsimonious — a late efflorescence of gener- osity, which lacks the sweet smelling perfume which good deeds should possess ; and when it appears, like the Talipat's flower, it is a sure sign that death is at hand. 60 RICH AND POOR. RICH AND POOR. The Yokes cf each. The poor support a yoke of iron, the rich a yoke of gold. The latter is the most costly and show y, but sometimes by far the most galling. " If thon art rich, thou art poor, For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey. And death unloads thee." Their Relative Conditions. As Providence has seen fit to conjoin the rich and poor in all the affairs of life, the chief ditTerence between them seems to consist in this, that the one lives in the parlor and the other in the kitchen ; and that the latter is clothed in serge, and the former in silk, — and the want of harmony between them, arises from one party not being always able to under- stand its true position in regard to the other, and sometimes forgetting which is the kitchen, and which is the parlor; or from endeavoring to put both the kitchen and parlor upon the same footing. Again, when they are kept distinct, and re- spect and authority prevail on one hand, and deference and submission on the other, how happy is it, when the different members coexist, so as to constitute an harmonious svhole ! Like the tree, for example, the roots of which, being the necessary and sustaining parts, are in the ground, and the top branches, which are the graceful and ornamental portions, and the glory of the entire work, are above in the air ! As to Enjoyments. The poor are more sure of finding enjoyments in their substantial comforts and necessaries, than the rich are of ob- taining pleasures from their refined luxuries and superflui- ties. Nor does the poor man's delight in the rich man's dainties, equal the rich one's relish for the poor man's mor- sel, when he occasionally condescends to partake of it after the wholesome seasoning of a little privation and toil. Mutual Toils. The rich depend on the laboring poor for their work ; on RICH AND POOR. 61 the merry poor for amusement ; on the learned poor for in- struction ; and on the pious poor for sanetification. Condition. Labor is the only wealth of the poor, and the largest hands — those of the poor — hold the least, and have the least to hold. The poor are valuable for their thews and sinews. They have limbs to toil and shoulders to bear burdens ; but the oppressor remembers not that they have hearts to feel, or mouths to be fed, or that there is " a blood power stronger than steam." The black iron is meted out to them, whilst the yellow gold gladdens the better sort. Equality not Natural. Bring the elements of Nature to an equilibrium, and though an apparent quietude is the immediate result, yet the elements of agitation are secretly at work, and some disturb- ance or convulsion will ensue. Permanent equality is unnatural, and the most violent storms rage about the equinoxes. So when we attempt to equalize the conditions of mankind, we introduce a moral equinoctial state, and a deceitful calm prevails at first ; but turbulence and repulsion are the ultimate consequences thereof. As to Contentment. Contented poverty is more common than contented wealth, and how much more do the poor abound in the world than the rich ! • Poverty and Oppression. Poverty is the universal slavery of the world, the yoke every where imposed upon the greater part of all nations, and the hardest to be borne by those least accustomed to oppres- sion, and who enjoy a comparative exemption from all other evils but this. Different Standards of Wealth and Poverty. There are as many kinds of poverty as of wealth, and as 62 RIGHANDPOOR. many standards. Who is rich, and who poor, let every one decide for himself, and not the world ; for the world can be made to judge as by standards which we erect for ourselves, rather than by those which it takes the trouble to erect for us. Avarice and Poverty. Avarice, when it overreaches itself, is exposed to as many annoyances as the privations which poverty is forced to submit to. Losses. Pecuniary losses are like depletions of the human system. If moderate, they arrest a state of plethora and prove salu- tary ; if carried too far, vitality is endangered. Riches and Freedom. Riches have ivings. Yes, bright and golden wings; wings of joy, of pleasure, and of peace. We can mount upon them and fly away whithersoever we please. We can soar, as if on the glorious wings of the morning, and dwell, if Ave choose, in the uttermost parts of the earth or sea, free from the cares and vexations which embitter our peace, and cor- rode into the very core of life. 'Whithersoever we shall go, under the talismanic influence of wealth, we shall find love and service freely offered at our disposal. W^e shall en- counter troops of friends among every people, and in every land shall we be able to sit under our own vine and fig- tree. The sun shall not burn us by day, nor the moon infect us by night ; and when weary of roving, palaces and hotels garnis shall shelter us, and for every want a luxury shall be provided. The Losses of the Rich and the Mortifications of the Poor. The losses of the rich are not to be compared, in point of effect, to the mortifications of the poor ; but they are more exaggerated. RICHANDPOOR. 63 The Rich who are Ignorant and the Poor loho are Wise. The rich who are ignorant desire learning, as much as the wise who are poor covet weaUh. It seems not to be intended that any individual, or that any country, should possess all the advantages which are desirable in life. All are united, while all are separated ; and there are bonds and ties which bind us into one family union — one in- dissoluble compact of kindred relationship. Treatment of the World towards both. The rich are hated, the great persecuted, the good vili- fied, and the poor despised. " Rich, hated ; wise, suspected ; scorned, if poor ; Great, feared ; fair, tempted ; high, still envied more : I have wished all, but now I wish for neither — Great, wise, rich, high, nor fair — poor I'll be rather." Wotton. Chinese Proverb. The Chinese proverb saith, that the rich fool is -like a pig that is choked by its own fat, fit only for the shambles. " It is our pleasure and our pride, That men should say how fat we died." Lines on Wealth and Want. O wealth and want, so oft extolled and curst, Who shall decide which is the best, or worst, Since each, as use directs, unnumbered times, Inclines to virtue, or is warped to crimes ? Unblest have thousands been with amplest store, Thousands have blest the fate that made them poor ; As fortime waned, saw brighter fortunes rise. For dross of earth, the bullion of the skies ; Resigned delusive dreams of place and pelf — For surer riches centred in one's self. What fatal lures have wealth and power combined, To fire with maddening schemes the errant mind, To rouse the slumbering passions from repose, To banish peace, and foster direful woes! 64 HONORS. Could Britain's king serene contentment keep, Or wrest from power the jrracious boon of sleep — Like that which, spell-like, locks the ploughman fast, Or lulls the ship-boy on the reeling mast, To toiling limbs which sweet refreshment brings, And chafes the envy of a host of kings ? See suffering want succumb to wrong and ill. Those dreadful foes to bliss relentless still ! But yet, where want's unknown the surfeit cloys, No wealth exists without some counterpoise — And few or none supreme delights can share, Unshorn by grief, or undefiled by care. Though Lydia's monarch held such stately rule, He blushed to find his son and heir a fool ; His poorest subject, virtuous, just, and free, Sent from his loins a nobler race than he. Strong to contend, to crown an humble name. With honors princes might be proud to claim — Or, skilled to exchange with courage shrewd and bold. The stubborn iron for the pliant gold ; And that achieved, to thirst for more and more, And spurn the wretch whose weakness keeps him poor. 'Tis not alone the rank, the chance, the cast. But peace at heart, which yields tlie good at last. Let Life's impulses riot in the breast — The closing scenes give color to the rest, And Heaven may shower its gifts, or trials send, We hope — the hope of all — a blissful end ! HONORS. Honors as such. It is a fatal and delusive ambition which allures many to the pursuit of honors as such, or as accessories to some greater object in view. The substance is dropped to catch the shade, and the much coveted distinctions, in nine cases out of ten, prove to be mere airy phantasms and gilded mists. Real honor and real esteem are not difficult to be obtained in the world, but they are best won by actual worth and merit, rather than by art and intrigue which HONORS. 65 run a long and ruinous race, and seldom seize upon the prize at last. Seek not to be honored in any way save in thine own bosom, within thyself. Great Honors. Great places, are great burdens ; and " distinguished conditions in life," says Seneca, " exact great servitude." " Honor's the darling, but of one short day ; State but a golden prison to live in, And torture free-born minds." Wotton. Wealth and Honor. Among the ancient Greeks and Romans, in their best days, honor was more sought after than wealth. Times are changed. Now, wealth is the surest passport to honor ; and respectability is endangered by poverty. " Rome was Rome no more " when the imperial purple had become an article of traffic, and when gold could purchase with case the honors that patriotism and valor could once secure only with difficulty. Reputation. Reputation is nice and precious. Like coin, it is kept bright by use ; and yet, too much use wears it away. When worn, its value is lessened ; when tarnished, its lustre is with difficulty restored. Very brilliant reputations always lose a portion of their brilliancy. Reputation and Character. Reputation and character are so different and distinct, that many who enjoy the one do not always possess just claims to the other. Occasionally they are so opposite that some individuals, who are distinguished for reputation, think themselves entitled on that account to take greater liberties with their character. " We seldom," says St. Evremond, " proportion reputation to a man's virtue ; and I have seen a thousand men in my time, that have been esteemed either 66 HONESTY. for a merit which they were not in possession of, or for that which they had already lost." HONESTY. Russian Sign of Honesty. Raikes observes in his City of the Czar, that the Russians are not remarkably distinguished for honesty, and that the best way to ascertain who among them is honest, is to search in the palm of the hand to see if any hair is growing there, as it is the only certain sign of honesty among that people. The hand and fingers have a good deal to do with honesty. The highway robber in Don Quixote says, " I am tliat Gines de Passamonte, the history of whose life is written by these ten fingers." Prohity.* The probe which surgeons use, to sound The inward reaches of a wound. In classic language takes its rise, And acts of honesty implies. So, changed into another sense, We probe the heart's concealed intents, To find what on the surface lies. When searched, proves often otherwise. Among the Chinese. The Chinese are influenced not so much by rights, as by rites. Some historian remarks of them, that he who deals with them should be provided with his own weights, as every merchant is supplied with three sorts : the one heavy, for buying ; another light, for selling ; and another of the true standard for those wlio are upon their guard. Ceylonese Custom. In the island of Ceylon, when a young man first submits to the operation of shaving, it is made the occasion of a great * Probe — Latin probus — honest, just. CRITICISM. 67 entertainment which is given to his friends and acquaint- ances. What an admirable custom it would be for every one to observe, the first time in his life that he was well shaved, to celebrate it in a similar manner, and to signalize it in such a vvay, that it should make a permanent impression upon him- self, and furnish a salutary lesson to others ! Honesty and Self-interest. As virtue is tempted by pleasure, so is honesty by self- interest. If the devotion to either be feeble, the strength of our inclinations may detach us as easily from one, as from the other. It is only where the principle of either exists, that we can be brought to prefer a virtuous self-denial to an unlawful indulgence, and a just loss to an unjust gain. Honesty and Virtue Supplanted. It is a deplorable state of things when a fair and upright course of conduct avails less in the success of an underta- king, than the employment of artifice and duplicity, and would be most likely to defeat it, when the other would be almost certain to accomplish the end in view ! CRITICISM. Some kind of Fear for all. The author dreads the critic ; the miser the thief; the criminal the judge ; the horse the whip ; and the lamb the wolf — all after their kind. Critical Labor. How industrious some authors are in hunting up the origin of all celebrated productions, and tracing parallels and re- semblances between different writers! What ingenuity and learning did not Johnson show in discovering what he con- ceived to be the origin of the Spectator ! And what distin- guished work is there in any language which has not found some one to question its originality, and to detract thereb)'- from its merits ? May not ditTcrent authors treat the same subject or express analogous ideas in similar language, and 68 CRITICISM. Still be original ? Was Boileau's Art of Poetry less original than Horace's Ars Poelica ? Was Marmontel justifiable, when he asserted in his Ele- ments of Literature, that it is to Moliere, to Racine, and Despreaux, that the English owe their Dryden, Pope, and Addison ? That is an example of national vanity. No man, and no author is truly great who is merely an imitator. Eveiy one must be himself. Superiority courts no fellow- ship. To criticism, and the benefits it confers, we may ap- ply the proverb, Apres la mort vient le medicin, — a post- mortem examination, but sometimes it buries alive, or impales and dissects the living. The Critics. Critics demand something that is altogether new and ori- ginal, and condemn resemblances and imitations. Do they ever recall to mind that there is nothing very new in criticism itself, and that their own carping tirades are identically the same as their predecessors for the fiftieth generation before them have used ? There is perhaps less originality in criti- cism than in any thing else. Cest ioujours perdrix. — What is served up to-day, is the same that was served up yester- day and ever antecedently. " What Gellius and Stobaeus hashed before, And chewed by blind old critics o'er and o'er." The only kind of criticism that is interesting and instruc- tive is that which gives us the spirit and philosophy of things, Vesprit des cJioses, — or which treats us to the cream of knowledge, and the essence of wit. Its true Nature and Uses. The judgment that is passed upon the achievements of the mind, should not be different in principle from that which is decreed upon questions of morals. For the intel- lectual and the moral censor both have the same ends in view. The one appeals to the standards of taste and sci- ence, the other to the convictions of morality and truth. Neither creates the rules or tenets which control his decisions, for they are already established in the nature of things. They have studied and comprehended them, and it is their POWER. 69 province to rebuke the departures from them on the one hand, and to commend the nearest approaches to them on the other. This system of censure and praise — this tribunal ofenlis;htened opinion — if acknowledged by all to be necessary and indis- pensable in matters of morality, is scarcely less essential as to the productions of the mind, the ultimate improvement, and the highest advancement of the human species being ta- ken into consideration. But, as the precepts of a depraved moral teacher are not to be regarded, but contemned ; so, the judgments of an unprincipled critic should be treated with merited disdain. For the cause of truth needs not the aid of private spleen, or malignant wit, which benefit neither those who employ, nor those who listen to them. In addition however to the masterly defence and maintenance of correct principles of taste and knowledge. Criticism should have other and higher ends in view. In detecting faults and blemishes, it should point out their remedies or their oppositcs. If it exposes defects, it should also exhibit and make us com- prehend that which is more perfect. And thus, by the aid of instruction and reproof, and by the display of correct pre- cepts and cultivated intelligence. Criticism may be made one of the most important vehicles in promoting the advancement of truth and knowledge ; while it is not incompatible that it should assume the functions of a moral instructor, by encouraging the modest and unassuming, reproving the vicious and depra- ved, the presumptuous and vain, and extolling the virtuous and good, the enlightened and refined. POWER. Five Ki7ids. There are many kinds of power known and exercised in the world ; but the chief, or most prevailing of them, are five in number- moral, intellectual, physical, mechanical, and lastly the money-power, the greatest of all, because it con- trols all — the great Autocrat of the world. Poicer and Justice. All power, private or public, not founded in justice, sooner or later falls to the ground ; for justice, and not strength, is 70 POWER. the natural basis of power, and where this does not exist, op- positions, discontents and outbreaks are liable to occur, and the contentions in the family circle, are only diminutive I'eprcsentations of rebellion in a state on a larger and more formidable scale. Oppression. Tyranny is natural to man. Even the feeble desire to exercise it, not only over the feebler, but over those who are more powerful than themselves. In the latter case, it is re- garded as an encroachment upon prescriptive rights, or resistance to imaginary wrongs. But the strong habitually employ it against the weak, under some form or other of oppression. The lover of peace is therefore placed between these two parties, and, abhorring war, is yet compelled to fight ; for the presumption of the feeble is only equaled by the assumption of the mighty. The Oppressor and tlie Oppressed. The injurious and the oppressor are often the first to raise the cry of injury and oppression. They give the provocation, and then accuse others of the offence, putting the blame, not upon the encroachment, but upon the resistance to it. " A litle rule, a little sway, A sunbeam in a winter's clay, Is all the proud and mighty have. Between the cradle and the grave." Love of Power. The pursuits and inclinations of mankind all tend to the acquisition of power; if not to that of predominant rule and sway, at least to the power of self-control and independent action. It is sought for, and fought for, in every manner and by every means : in riches, in rank, in station, in know- ledge ; by fame, by open bravery and boldness, by artful cunning and submission, by pen, by sword, by trumpet, and by tool. But power, however pursued and obtained, is the coveted possession of man, and the cherished and aspiring object of his ambition, for the powerless are without influence or regard, and have no weight or voice in the world's affairs. NATIONS. 71 But there is always a place reserved in the world for him who is in possession of power. NATIONS. As to Manners. The northern nations are distinguished for etiquette, the eastern for ceremony, and the southern for courtesy. National Antipathies. Antipathies prevail where resemblances suggest com- parisons, and where the comparisons give rise to bickerings and jealousies. The next step is, to turn the bad and rank, ling feelings to active and hostile account. Power proceeds to revenge itself upon weakness ; friends and allies are treated as foes and aliens ; and near neighbors as the most distant acquaintances ; and they who are most alike, as if there was no likeness at all. Witness the Poles and the Russians, the Greeks and the Turks, the Spaniards and the Moors, the Jews and the Christians. N s The fat comes out of the North, and the sweet out of the South. The East has its teas, its spices and its gums j the West its oaks, its maples and its pines. Habit, Custom. Some men behold the good habits and actions of their neighbors, without imitating them ; and some contiguous nations witness each other's convenient customs and usages, but never adopt them. Patriotism. No nation can expect to prosper and become great, with- out ardent and devoted patriotism. It is the first and last con- sideration. When the last Punic war was being waged against Rome, and was threatening her destruction, and the great Carthagenian general was drawing near the city, some weak 72 NATIONS. minds gave way to their fears, and thougiit that all was lost. But the true Roman spirit was maintained ; the cause of the country was not abandoned ; and the very ground on which the army of Hannibal was encamped, was sold for as much, if not for a greater price than ever before. Patriotism is irre- sistible, unconquerable, universal. A glorious shout upsprings o'er all the earth. Long live ! long live the land which gives us birth. Nations arid Races. It is with nations as with the different races of men. Some are honored and favored, and others foredoomed to mis- fortune and contumely. Of the happy nations, witness the European and the American. Of the unfortunate races, be- hold the Arab, the Negro, and those parasitic plants, the Jews and Gipsies. To the catalogue of depauperated and deplorable nations, add all colonial dependencies which are universally dedicated to plunder and misrule. National Honor. Whilst older nations girt with honors stand, And young Columbia, Titan of the land, Far westward strides — and each successive day Expands her bounds, perpetuates her sway, And Freedom's champions hail her radiant sun, Where Virtue's name, and Washington's are one, Oh, may her children catch his sacred fire, And ne'er forget to emulate their sire. Though grandeur dazzles, may they learn to feel, His wisdom, justice, and his patriot zeal, And watch, as truth each darkened realm pervades, The holy light which streams through Vernon's shades — Be truly great, from grovelling vice exempt, Nor sink, like Burr, from glory to contempt. National Ascendency. Time immemorial, some nation or other has aspired to maintain dynastic ascendency in the world. The Assyrians ventured it — NATIONS. 73 "The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold." Then came the ambitious and subtle Egyptians, the restless and polished Greeks, the fierce Carthagenians, and the mar- tial Romans, all eager for the world's dominion and mastery, to be won by conquest, rapine, and bloodshed. But the Sennacheribs, Ptolemies, Caesars, Attilas, and Napoleons, all belong to ages that are past ; and despotisms, like ancient baronial castles, are becoming matters of mere curiosity. The arts of peace are now governing the world, and award- ing its supremacy, and not the art of war. Intelligence and refinement, equal laws and equal rights are in vogue, and the greatest nation is that which possesses all these in the greatest security and perfection. Such are the social, na- tional, and fundamental influences which are being diffused abroad, fraternizing the nations of the earth, and the whole world is in danger of becoming Anglicized, Gallicized, and Americanized, except the Dutch, and they are Japanned. Chief Productions. Germany has produced clocks, ghost stories, and printing. France, cooks, capons, and compliments. Russia, mad emperors and hemp. Africa, ivory and ebony — blacks. England — whose people have the spleen at home and the liver complaint abroad — has produced roast beef, pudding, and beer, as well as mighty statesmen and scholars, seamen and soldiers, and the blessings of conquest, taxation, and good advice; Anglica gens, optima fens, pessima ridens, while the Union of the Stales lays claim to a considerable many hand- some women and valiant men, and to a few Yankee notions about the rights of man and the government of the world. The Oldest Nation. (A North American Legend.) Many nations have advanced pretensions to the highest antiquity, without allowances being made for the prior claims of the children of the rcoods. The Shawanese Indians, according to Thatcher, believe in a tradition which makes them the most ancient and re- spectable people on the globe. " The master of life." said 4 74 GOVERNMENT. one of their old chiefs, at a council held at Fort Wayne in 1803 — " the master of life, who was himself an Indian, made the Shawancse before any others of the human race, and they sprang from his brain. He gave them all the know- ledge which he himself possessed. He placed them upon the great island — the American continent. All the otlier red people were descended from the Shawanese. After he had made the Shawanese, he then made the French and English out of his breast, and the Dutch out of his feet. But as for the long knives — the Americans — he made them out of his hands, and all these inferior races of men he made white, and placed them beyond the great lake — the sea." GOVERNMENT. IVhat goveiTis ? Wealth cannot purchase appointments, talents very rarely secure them, merit is ridiculed, and wisdom is out of the question. What then governs the world ? These three things — intrigue, stalking-horses, and illusions; the latter being embodied generally under the form of some pompous catch-words, or enthusiastic mottoes. Obedience and Resistance. Government, when unmolested, is like tlic fire, which communicates a gentle and genial warmth. When the flames of its anger and wrath are aroused, it is a conflagration which consumes. When we yield quietly and peaceably to its pro- tecting influence, it is a nursing mother, like to Rhea, or Ceres. But when we rebel against it, it resembles Saturn, who devours his children. Mysteries. We perceive many things in nature and in nations, that we do not comprehend, and which puzzle us to account for. So far, the government of the Deity, and the governments of men, are somewhat similar, with this important distinction, however, that the more thoroughly we understand the former, GOVERNMENT. 76 the more highly wc approve of it, while the more closely we investigate the latter, the less are we pleased and edified. The best motives and reasons are assignable to the first, and often the very worst to the last. The mysteries of Di- vine government are inexplicable because our sagacity is inadequate to their comprehension. But the mysteries of human government are concealed from us, because our sa- gacity exceeds them, and ridicule is too strong for the tricks of imposture. Which Best ? That which is the most rational. Which most Permanent ? That which is the most rational and the most dignified, for it awards justice, and commands respect ; and being wise in principle, it will always be discreet in practice. Balance of Power. Balance is sometimes used in the sense of remainder. Thus, when princes and rulers have first helped themselves, the balance of power means that small balance which is left in the people. Freedom of the Press. Every mind has a right to make itself heard. If its thoughts are evil, let them be denounced and forgotten ; if good, known and remembered. Some despotic governnients are as much afraid of dead authors as they are of living edi- tors. A free press is the beginning of a free government, as a tavern and a law-office are the beginnings of a village. Co o Foundation. All governments should be founded on love ; and so they are, on love of one or another kind : on the love of justice, the love of law and equal rights — the love of power — the love of oppression — tiic love of ostentation — the love of gain and 76 GOVERNMENT. plunder — and the greatest and strongest of all love, the love of self. Of all these loves, self-love and the love of plunder predominate. TJtilUy vs. Luxury. Rome, under the imperial dynasty, was devoted to the aits of embellishment and luxury. In the times of the republic, works of utility were carried on. Canals and aqueducts were constructed, and the temple of Venus was converted into a temple of Pallas, in order that wisdom and sobriety might take precedence of folly and licentiousness. The Sinrit of Virtue and Intelligence. It is not expected of potentates and rulers that they should be learned, but it is necessary that they should be wise. And the general march of improvement has produced this effect, that princes entertain more respect for, and have a juster knowledge of the people, while the latter, on their part, are better qualified to judge their governors, and to decide upon their qualifications and merits. An illiterate sovereign would now scarcely be tolerated in any country, especially if his disqualifications were made manifest ; and in the onward progress of events, this is noticeable, that licentiousness, as well as ignorance, is becoming banished from the precincts of the throne. The mere form of government will be a less debatable question, when all governments shall be equally subject to the dominion of virtue and intelligence. In less enlightened ages, wlien educational accomplishments and the graces of refinement were rare, the older race of kings and queens, emperors and empresses, relied more upon the supremacy of authority, conjoined with the natural strength of their characters, and upon the awe inspired by the elevated position they occupied, and not so much upon the influence of state assemblies and popular institutions. They created and upheld the power, and that power in turn strengthened and upheld them. But despotic dynasties are now becoming matters of history and curiosity. The contest formerly was, which should be the most powerful despotism, now it is be- ginning to be, which shall be the freest republic? Of old, the rivalship was in respect to the greatest show. Now the GOVERNMENT. 77 question is, wliich shall be of the greatest use ? The world has become practical and utilitarian. Arbitrary and des- potic sway is unpopular and unpalatable, and as yet, history has chronicled no ill etl'ects wiiich have arisen from making a peoj)le more free and more happy. To direct and control the national destinies of a host of freemen is a great and noble enterprise, but to rule over a servile and oppressed popula- tion, presents kw inducements either of honor or of personal advantage. Freedom of the Press. In those countries where the freedom of the press is re- stricted, the publication of harmless works of amusement, such as plays and operas, or tales of the imagination, or treatises upon mathematics and the abstract sciences, are sanctioned, but not those productions which advocate the rights of man and the political interests of society, or which lead mankind to reason and self-renection. There was a time, when in some parts of Europe it was not permitted to write any thing except catechisms and almanacs, and " when the approbation of the public censor," says Hclvetius, " was for the author almost always a certificate of stupidity." The press has been called the Fourth Estate, and is a power greater than that of kings, lords, and commons, all combined. It is a double oi'gan of mind and voice united, an engine of thought, and the instrument of popular will. Liberty. " O Liberty," exclaimed Madame Roland, " how many crimes are committed in thy name !" Yes ; how many men have been doomed to torture, incarceration and butchery, and have poured out their hearts' blood upon the scaffold, for daring to breathe even the name of Liberty — without which, the earth is only a lazar-house and dungeon, and man the worst of menials and slaves! In this persecution and perversion of liberty, how many crimes and enormities are and have been committed, while countless virtues and blessings take shelter and thrive with ever living strength and beauty under the protecting influ- ence of real and secure liberty, the richest inheritance which 78 CONSISTENCY. man lias received from the skies ! When shall its sacred fire burn in every bosom, and kindling with the thrilling force of inspiration, spread from heart to heart and from mind to mind, and be the common privilege and birthriglit of every human being ? And when shall despots learn, that to tram- ple upon these rights — to crush this spirit — is the greatest sacrilege — the worst and most fatal of all crimes — and one which will endanger the stability of sceptred power, and in- voke the wrath of Heaven, and the vengeance of men ? Is the world ever oblivious of oppression, or does it ever forget the oppressor ? Will it ever be erased from the pages of history, that there was a Black-Hole in Calcutta — a Dartmouth in England — an Olmutz in Austria — or a Bastile in France ? But Destiny has reserved for the benefit of mankind, at least one country, where tyrannies and oppressions are unknown, where there are no dungeon-caverns, no Dartmouths or Bastiles, and no exiled wastes of Siberia ! CONSISTENCY. Two kinds. Men assume credit for consistency, even in adhering to doctrines and opinions which have become exploded, and which were originally adopted from delusive views or wrong and mistaken motives. Consistency in error denotes weak- ness of judgment and obstinacy of mind, and they who hood- wink themselves, have no right to expect that they should blindfold others also. There is consistency of opinion, and consistency of principle ; but opinion is variable, and princi- ple is uniform : therefore, he who is consistent in opinion should see that his opinions are conformable to principle ; if not, he is consistent only in inconsistencies. Principles snd Practice. As principles are paramount to practice, inasmuch as they abide always, while the practice of them may be only occa- sionally manifested — so do they reveal the predominance of stability over change, and of truth over error. For bad deeds PHILOSOPHY. 79 and false words seek the protecting safeguard of honest prin- ciples and good consciences, and are ventured upon the faith of them ; so that the uprigjil, who resort to no disguises, and spurn them, are tacitly joined by those who covet the credit of fair and honorable acts, and wlio, although they live in the midst of trcaciiery and deception, yet are ever anxious to be seen in better company. PHILOSOPHY. What is it ? " It is the science of divine and human things." " A desire of the highest knowledge, and a pursuit of divine truth." " A species of intellectual melody, the internal harmony of thought and mind ; the music of tiie soul." Its Name. The term philosophy, signifying a love of wisdom, implies also the possession of it, and that truly ; for they who are enamored with wisdom are not far from possessing it. We are indebted to Pythagoras for the first use of the word '■' philos- ophy," and Plato was the first to use " ideas" to denote the definite conceptions of thought, or according to Locke, " things which the mind occupies itself about in thinking." Philosophy and Experience. There are many things which philosophy cannot teach in advance, but whicii are settled by the subsequent experience of life ; and this is, after all, the great teacher. The Maxim of Sadi. " Though whatever is, was to be ; yet nothing is as it should be," is the maxim advanced by the discontented phi- losopher, Sadi. Little Philosophy. There is a philosophy of little minds as well as of great ; and small tenets of persons and places, as well as large 80 PHILOSOPHY systems of orbs and planets. How tenacious are little minds of their fixed opinions, their limited ideas, and their pre-esta- blished formularies ! To infringe upon, to deviate from, or even to doubt them, is to bring on a total eclipse of reason, or to violate some of the most positive and fundamental laws of nature ! Philosophy and Religion — Ancient and Modern. In ancient times, philosophy was more highly esteem- ed, and ranked higher than religion ; it commanded more respect, and engaged the attention of higher intellectual powers. Now, religion prevails over philosophy ; and all attempts to restore the old order of things, have utterly failed. " All things considered," says Chateaubriand, " there is but one thing in life — religion. It is religion that gives order and liberty to the world, and after life, a better existence." Religion and Philosophy — Practically. Some cultivate philosophy in theory, who are imperfect philosophers in practice ; as others advocate religion, who are nevertheless indiifcrently religious. A little philosophy carries us away from truth, while a greater brings us round to it again. Question between Religion and Philosophy. The question is, whether we were originally good and have become corrupt ; or were corrupt, and must become good ? Religion takes one side of the argument, and philo- sophy the other. Philosophy and Religion, contrasted. We might say to Philosophy : Take thou the head, amuse and instruct the mind ; but to Religion, Come thou, possess the heart, elevate and refine the soul. Philosophy is designed for the few — Religion is intended for all. Philosophy approaches us with the ostentation and PHILOSOPHY. 81 dignity of acquired science ; Religion appeals to us with the simplicity and efficacy of revealed truth and divine inspira- tion. There are two fountains of consolation within our reach. One is proffered by the limited hand of man, the other is opened unto us by the infinite bounty of God. Things heyond our Power. " We should not be affected," says Epictetus, " by things which are not in our power," and which control us, because they are in their nature more mighty than we are. We should therefore necessarily to yield to them, inasmuch as we cannot overcome them. But there are many things which appear impossible which arc not, or are only so by defect of resolution in ourselves. The truly brave, and the posi- tively strong, are generally equal to the enterprises and ob- stacles of life ; and Nelson and Napoleon would have erased the word " impossible " from the vocabular}' of languages. Practical and Theoretical. There is philosophy in all things ; and it is of two kinds, theoretical and practical. One is based upon sense, and the other upon sentiment. When theoretical and practical phi- losophers engage in the discussion of abstruse and specula- tive points, they afford mutually to one another occasions of surprise, astonishment, and derision. The practicalist be- lieves, that the theorist labors under some unfortunate delu- sion of fancy ; whilst tiie latter is fully convinced, that the former suffers from some absolute defect of reason. Maxims of Philosophy. There are occasions in which the soul relies solely for support upon its inherent strength, and the principles which it has formed to act upon, and when we regard with equal inditference the plausible maxims of philosophy, and the ostentatious conceits of sentiment. They are the fripperies of learning, and the effusions of wit, and are of little avail in those emergencies when their service might be greatest. In our familiar intercourse with this world, and in our ex- pected nlations with the next, nothing can well be substi- 4* 82 BRAVERY AND CAUTION. tuted for tiie desire and necessity of individual and collective goodness, which furnishes laudable rules and motives of ac- tion, and will always properly influence and lead us aright. " The character of the true piiilosopher," says Sir J. F. W. Herschel, " is to hope all things not impossible, and to be- lieve all things not unreasonable." GENIUS. W/iat is Genius ? The chief characteristic of genius is, that it possesses a creative and combining power. It is energy of thought united with sensibility of feeling. It is the highest elevation of the mind connected with the deepest depths of the soul — a fervid and glowing impulse of heart and brain. Above all, it is a self-absorption into the world of life and nature around us. Its Eccentricities. The eccentricities of genius arise chiefly from constitu- tional defects and nervous disorders. The profound emotions of the soul, the bright flashes of the mind, owe their chief origin to those impressions which an acute sensibility alone can experience ; and it is to that heightened state of sensibi- lity that genius mainly owes its beauties and blemishes, its brilliancy and gloom, its suflerings and hopes, its joys and sorrows, its glory and its shame. " Nature," says Madame de Stael, " has supplied reme- dies for the great evils to which man is subject — has balanced genius with adversity, ambition with perils, and virtue with calumny." BRAVERY AND CAUTION. The dangers of life make us brave, but bold and incau- tious ; its difficulties render us wary and circumspect, but timid and doubtful. They therefore who are fittest to protect, are not always ARCHITECTURE. 83 most sifitable to govern ; for the brave need circumspection, as much as the circumspect need valor. ARCHITECTURE. In connection with Life. All the arts of life are intimately associated with the history of mankind, and with the progress of society. In their advances to a greater state of perfection, they reveal the successive and successful efforts that have been made to arrive at the points they have reached ; or if they have retro- gaded, traces of the retrocessions appear. Painting, sculpture, and architecture, are thus so many distinct chronicles of tlie power, ingenuity, and labor of man, to which he has consecrated the resources of his mind, to display the compass of his skill, the embellishments of his taste, and to supply the many real as well as artificial uses and requirements of life. But of all the arts, architecture is that whicli is most nearly and eminently connected with human affairs — with the conditions of society, and with " the fixed delights of house and home." Tl^ poorest habitation that was ever converted into a family abode, becomes a wit- ness to the scenes and experiences of daily existence, and a chronicle, while it lasts, of the joys and pleasures, the griefs and cares of the dwellers therein. It is a shelter from the storm — a refuge in the hour of adversity — a hall of festive enjoyment — a bower of domestic bliss. There may the oc- cupants erect the altars of their religion ; and the dwelling, however unpretending and obscure, in the estimation of the law is a strong castle of defence. It is a chosen and cherished place, though ever so humble, and is preferable to all others — the fireside, the asylum, and the home. The public and national associations of architecture appeal to us with still greater force, perhaps, than the private or social. We are bound by them no less to our country and our people, than to our families and our friends ; and often our passionate pride in a public edifice, is equaled only by our affectionate attachment to a private domain. In religion, this feeling is carried to a still higher point. The temple 84 PRAISE AND BLAME. which has been dedicated to the worship of the Almighty, is sacred in our eyes — it is hallowed by the rites, ceremo- nies and consolations of our faith, and sanctified by our hopes of immortal life and celestial bliss ! PRAISE AND BLAME. Two Difficulties. There are two difficulties in the way of bestowing praise, it excites vanity or envy ; and two also in regard to blame, it produces enmity or false pride. . As to the Heart and the Mind. Praise is more acceptable to the heart than profitable to the mind, and he is in a negative state who is unworthy of praise and unreproved by blame. All things possess some quality or qualities of praise or dispraise. Although we are so covetous of compliments and com- mendations, a moment's consideration is sufficient to con- vince us that we are seldom deserving of them. Rarely do we discharge our entire duty, and our graces and accom- plishments are mere conventional vanities which add nothing to the stock of intrinsic worth. The world, and we our- selves, too, understand them too well to be deceived by them. We praise the inferior and do homage to the superior. Disregard. How small, how trivial is the cause. That swells the shout of men's applause ! And just as trivial and as slight. Is that which wins their hate or spite, He who is wise may live above The poor world's enmity or love. Injustice. We all award this kind of injustice to others, that if they sin towards us in one respect, we infer that they are ready to sin in all. PRAISE AND BLAME. 85 If they fail to do us good in one particular, we see no good in them whatever in all other particulars. Seeing our own Faults. When we begin to be as severe to our own faults as we find others to be ; when we perceive them as quickly, and reprove them as certainly as they do, we may then flatter ourselves that we are making some advances in virtue and improvement. Neutrality. . I do not wish thy faults to name, And would much rather praise than blame, But should 1 laud, who would believe ? Should I lament, who else would grieve ? So many doubts of thee prevail. So many tongues reprove, assail, So little loved, so shunned by all — Thy virtue must be very small. To thee, no friend's esteem apply. And I should fail, if I should try. Forgiveness and Forbearance. If we can forgive when we have been deeply wronged ; if we can act with gentleness and meekness when pursued with rancor and injustice, malignity and hate ; if we can forbear retaliation, and desire only to do good when we are assailed by others with all the evil artillery in their power, our virtue must be of a heavenly kind. It is hardly possible for human nature to exhibit so much perfection. The world has only seen one example of it, in Him, wiiose birth recalls to mind the manger of the inn ; and his death, " the lance of the soldier, and the nails of the cross." Forgiveness of Injuries. Forgiveness of injuries is the most difficult of all the attri- butes exercised by man. It accords better with the character of man. to commit 86 PRAISE AND BLAME. wrongs than to pardon them. He is naturally an oppressor rather than a lover of" justice. It requires the greatest mag- nanimity and virtue to act otherwise. Mankind delight in remembering offences, and practice the ceremonial forms of granting pardon a thousand times, to the bestowal of free forgiveness once. Rivalry and Detraction. The mode to raise a favorite most in use, Is to depress a rival by abuse ; By the same rule, we step ahead of those, VVhose greater merit turns them into foes, And vile detraction reveleth in joy. To find that Virtue's gold betrays alloy. The basest metals lose the least by loss. But something gain when gilt adorns the dross. Being a Prophet. Many deluded and misguided persons imagine, that in order to be prophets, nothing more is required than that they should be rejected by their own people. But the chief con- dition is, that they should be accepted by some other people. He is a very poor prophet indeed, who is bandied about the world from place to place, received and applauded by none, but derided and denounced by all, and who believes in him- self, but in whom nobody else believes. Conglomeration. Defective reasoning faculties are not uncommon. Self- will, prejudice, pertinacity and misconception, enter so largely into the composition of some minds, that a conglomeration of ideas is the consequence. It is not a simple thought, but compound fragments of ill-assorted thoughts and feelings all massed together, in the shape of a conglomeration. Few persons are there, who, some time or othei', have not been forced to swallow some of these conglomeration pills. The Simple and the Wise. The most skillful and discreet are subject to as great over- sights as the simpler and less wise, only more plausible ex- PRAISE AND BLAME. 87 cuses and palliations are assigned for them by themsevles and others. " Certain it is, that exceeding skill is the prolific parent of exceedingly woful failures." " Disasters, do the best we can, Will reach both great and small ; And he is oft the wisest man. Who is not wise at all." The Common Stock of Worldly Praise. Of the great and common fund of praise, provided by the world for general distribution — if rich, your share may be the weight of a doubloon ; if poor, be thankful if you get a penny's worth, or less. Dealing in Condemnation. To a pure, sensitive, and affectionate mind, every act of finding fault, or dealing in condemnation, is an act of pain. It is only when we have become callous to the world, and strangers to the sentiments of compassionate love, that we are able to play with unconcern the parts of persecutors and slan- derers, and that we can derive any pleasure from malignity and revenge. He wlio is the first to condemn, will be often the last to forgive. Chi offende, mai non perdona. He that offends, never forgives. It costs more to perform the primary acts of violence which impair confidence and afiection, than to follow up the succes- sive steps which completely sever all ties of fellowship and communion. When the blow is given — when the poniard has been thrust into the heart — mercy and tenderness are lost sight of, and a late contrition may alone ensue. Sincere and artless love turns away with aversion and horror from such scenes of demoniac dye. If it can no longer attach itself to those who have only the forms of men, but the qualities of brutes, it turns with resignation to the loveliness of Nature, and to the majesty of Nature's God, and finds in its pleasing abstractions, its hallowed sympathies, and its delightful anti- cipations, the realizations of those impulses which the world can neither comprehend nor destroy. 88 LAW. LAW. Law and Justice. * " Law," says my Lord Coke, " is the perfection of human reason." "Justice," says Hooker, "is that law whose scat is the bosom of God, and whose voice the harmony of the world." It is obvious, therefore, that we must seldom ex- pect to meet with these things in the halls of modern legisla- tion, or in the ordinary proceedings of legal tribunals. " If," says Seneca, " the law punislics one that is guilty, he should submit to justice ; if one that is innocent, he sliould submit to fortune." Redwood System of Justice. This admirable mode of administering justice is becoming more and more popular every day, and is in great vogue in all states, communities, cities, and countries, not so much in public courts as in private coteries. The method of proceed- ing is brief, rapid, and summary ; no delay, expostulation, or suspense is allowed. The criminal is in the first place taken up, and forthwith condemned and executed ; next, he is arraigned and indicted ; and finally, the trial and accusation come on, when he is re- commended to mercy, and acknowledged to be innocent. Trifold Systems of Law. The moral laws of the Deity are embodied in the Bible, and the truth of them is confirmed by the constant experience of life. But the natural laws, or the laws of Nature, are exhib- ited in the various departments of creation, and regulate this, and all other worlds. Man imitates and multiplies the former in the institutions and regulations which govern society, and which distribute the awards of justice. But with the latter laws lie intermeddles not. They are beyond his comprehension in their fullest extent, and the in- vestigation of them constitutes the chief elements of human knowledge, and the principles of what is called science. The system of laws therefore is trifold : the laws of God (the moral law) ; the laws of Nature, or physical laws ; and the laws of man in relation to human affairs and social rights. LAW. 89 Three Ways of Hitting a Mark. In capital cases, the Law is just and merciful. It says, " look to the motives of an evil deed, to see how evil it really is." In affairs of business, and in ordinary transactions, it says, " look to no motives, but to positive facts and circum- stances." In matters of reputation and honor, which give rise to actions of libel, it denounces motives, and rejects the truth to prove the truth. There arc, then, three ways, ac- cording to the Law, of hitting a mark. 1st. Fire right at it. 2d. Fire on either side of it. 3d. Fire right from it. Practical Results. Many exclaim against the Law, because they are disap- pointed in the succors which it brings. Admit that objections of this nature are unfounded and unreasonable, yet the cun- ning sophistries and ingenious devices, the legal quibbles and skillful efforts, resorted to to make the wrong appear the bet- ter side (and which is not un frequently done), must be ac- knowledged to have prejudicial effects upon those who resort to them, and no good influence upon the state of society which sanctions and encourages them. All kinds of unfairness and double dealing, the defence of dishonorable deeds by honorable men, the being, as Burke says, "disingenuously ingenious and dishonorably honest," must inflict the most fatal injuries upon the soundness and stability of the moral principle. " The law," says Burke also, " is one of the first and noblest of human sciences — a science which does more to quicken and invigorate the un- derstanding, than all other kinds of Imman learning put to- gether ; but it is not apt, except in persons very happily born, to open and liberalize tlie mind exactly in the same propor- tion." As to its plain, practical results, the professed eulo- gists of the Law assert, that in deciding upon its merits, we are not to consider its onerous expenses, or its vexatious strifes, but its erudite principles and grand historical associa- tions. These are truly admirable, and every one should cheerfully lay out a portion of his time and means upon them. But ah, my friends, these professional dainties and beauties are too costly for poor people ! 90 LAW. Origin of Latvyers in America. After tlie New World had been discovered, Ferdinand, king of Spain, enacted a decree that no lawyers should em- bark thither, being persuaded that they would do no good in that land. It was not long, however, before the lawyers evaded this wise and most excellent law ; for, not being able to come directly from Spain, they emigrated in phalanxes from all other parts of the world. They soon made their ap- pearance in the Land of Promise, in spite of law, and no por- tion of the population has increased and multiplied more than they. "Men of that large profession, that can speak To every cause, and things mere contraries. Till they are hoarse again, yet all be law ! That with most quick, agility can turn And re-return ; can make knots and undo them, Give forked counsel, take provoking gold On either hand, and put it up. These men He knew would thrive." Ben Jonson. Green Bags and Thimhics. It is an unprofiitablc state of society where lawyers and tailors abound to too great an extent, and have so many suits to make up, that they monopolize too large a share of the time and money, which might be better and more usefully employed in other ways. Judge-making. Times have changed more in no respect, than in the ready facilities afforded for judge-making; and the great dispatch and expedition with which the work is performed. Former- ly, a wise and discerning spirit, an acute judicial capacity, was a rare thing in the land, and was much lauded. But now, nothing is more common. The Minoses and Rhada- manthuses, the Solomons and Daniels, Solons and Zaleucuses, the justices and judges of the Law spring up on all sides, " thick as leaves in Vallambrosa's vale." Whilst doctors dull continue packs and drudges, The dullest lawyers are preferred for judges ; The brighter seldom cro.ss preferment's way. But hold on to their fees as richer pay. LAW. 91 The Law, self-acting, guards its own estate, Preserves the best, but spares the second rate ; The want of cUents never brings to these The strong temptation of the fattening fees ; The sauce of salaries, though, is not begrudged, And/eclcss lawyers thus are ohen judged. This task is simple, here they all succeed, And show how easier 'tis to judge than plead. The ermined robe is comfortable — warm. And long preserves their precious lives from harm ; With Time and Justice, too,, the stanchest friends, The Bench is tranquil, though the world contends, A storm of words may rage on either side ; Plis Honor nods — or listens to decide. Myriads may fall, or losing stakes endure, A Judge 's a fi.\ture, and is always sure. The ctilmest, easiest, happiest life of all, With no complaints, e.xcept the pay is small — Ah ! if the Bench might name what it should draw. Justice would prove the dearest part of Law ! Long Speeches. Home Tooke said, after a noble friend's plea of eleven hours in his* behalf, before the House of Commons, that he would rather be hansied another time than be so defended again. There is nothing brief about the law, except its briefs. Condi I ion of Law and Medicine. While there is nothing more noble than the cause of justice, the warmest defenders of the legal profession must admit, that there is notliing more harassing than protracted and complicated cases at law. AVhile medicine as a sci-^^-nce is becoming every day more simple and easy of comprehen- sion, the law is still multiplying its voluminous documents, and swelling its immense codes, to involve subjects of future consideration and judgment in greater difficulty and per- plexity. But the world is never contented with the learned pro- fessions, and is constantly exclaiming : " Let us liave less medicine, and more cures ; less cant, and more piety ; less law, and more justice." 92 LAW. • — ■ • Pettifoggers. In general, mankind distrust the merits, and doubt and deny the pretensions of others. But there are some sorts of people that every body distrusts and despises, and luckily, they finish by cordially distrusting and despising one an- other : as, for instance, quack doctors, canting preachers, and pettifogging lawyers. " Sly pettifoggers, wranglers at the bar." Law and Charity. Charity, when applied to the law, is generally coupled with a co/d word. The cold charities of the law are well known, and often spoken of. Of the three professions — law, medicine, and divinity — the first must be regarded as the most wealthy, and so far, the most powerful and influential. But compared with physicians and divines, or with merchants, the lawyers have not distinguished themselves so much as these in acts of public charity, and in the endowments of in- stitutions of public benefit. Of the poorer professions, medi- cine and divinity, less might be expected. But where are the colleges, hospitals, and asylums founded by lawj^ers ? or what lawyer ever even thought of building a church ? Individually and co-operatively, acts of munificence have not been wanting among them, and no more have been wanting the qualities of nobleness, honor, virtue, and piety. But as a profession, the community in general, in return for the best places, the best distinctions, and the best profits, have not received from them those proofs of public regard, and wide-extended benevolence, which would convince the world that the legal profession is as charitable as it is great. Perhaps the progressive rewards and emoluments of the law do not coincide and harmonize with a spirit of active benevolence and philanthropy — for certain it is, that the cus- tomary office of the law, as well as the custom of law offices, is to receive, not to bestow ; to gather in, but not to scatter abroad. Professional Anecdote. It is slated by Boswell, that a gentleman, on his return from the North of England, undertook to relate to Dr. John- LAW. 93 son the details of an important event which happened on the occasion of one the assizes at Shrewsbury. It seems ihat some refractory and rapacious ^eo5 hadjell^upon the law- yers and bi;. them pretty severely, and the gentleman from the North oF England was proceeding to give a graphic de- scription of what occurred. But he made such a long history of it, that Dr. Johnson became impatient, and exclaimed : " It was very fortunate that the fleas were not bears — else the story had never come to an end ; and the lawyers might not merely have been flea-bitten, but devoured." Expenses and Profits. Nothing is more essential (in every one's opinion) to the prosperity of a state, than a wise, economical, and expedi- tious administration of justice. Pellicer observes, that the Moors enjoy great prosperity and become rich, because they do not waste their substance in lawsuits. On the contrary, Peter, in his Letters to his Kinsfolk, states, that such is the mode of transacting forensic business in Scotland, througli the agency of the legal factor who resides in the capital, that for every house which a gentleman erects on his estates in the country, his attorney-representative is enabled to put up a corresponding one of a little better finish in the city. Nevertheless, it has been remarked, that many lawyers live rich, but die poor. Its Patrons. The greatest patrons of the Law, are the poor who expect to gain, and the rich who fear to lose by it. The law is a privilege which the poor love to assert to show their inde- pendence ; and the rich value it, and hold it in reserve, to maintain and increase their supremacy. It is the old net in which the former think to catch some prize ; and the latter, if caught themselves, know well enough how to break tin'ough. A large class of prudent and sober, industrious and upright people have nothing to do with it. Solon compared tlie people to the sea, and orators and counselors to the winds ; for that the sea would be calm and quiet, if the winds did not trouble it. In feudal times, the privilege of an inferior arraigning a 94 LAW. superior, was a thing unknown ; and was gradually intro- duced, and at last rcluctanlly conceded. Now, perfect legal equality is established. There is no distinction of persons, but only of purses. All are invited to come. The contest begins and is conducted with spirit ; but when it terminates, the lawyer, in most cases, is the only party who succeeds in getting all that he was in pursuit of. Different Systems. Which of the two systems, the common or civil Law, is entitled to be considered the best ? This question rests be- tween a hop and a jump ; or it resolves itself into two other questions. Is it easier to penetrate through a cane-brake, or a bramble-hedge ? or which is preferable, the Knights of Rome, or the Barons of Runnymede ? Justinian ordered his chancelor, Tribonian, to arrange and condense into a complete form, the mighty mass of legal decisions collected before his time. This constituted the Pandects of Justinian, or the body of the civil law. A whole army of Justinians and Tribonians would now be required to arrange and sim- plify the confused medley of legal decisions and enactments of the present day. Two things are greatly needed in mod- ern times ; — 1st, to curtail the laws ; 2dly, to curtail the lawyers. State of the Law as to Real Estate. There was a time when ambitious men desired to be monks, for the same reasons that they now desire to be law- yers. It was observed anciently that, " where there is no law, there is no transgression ;" but both the civil and com- mon law of modern days, civilly and commonly declares, that " where there is no property, there is no law or lawing; and where there is much property, there is much law and lawing." In fact, the legal profession of the present times has the same controlling influence and interference over real estate possessions, as the clergy maintained in Europe during the middle ages over landed property ; with this dilfercnce, however, that the priests proclaimed all their monopolizing acts to be ostensibly for the benefit of the church, wiiilst the LAW. 95 lawyers honestly acknowledge all theirs to be for the good of themselves alone. Habeas Corpus and Juries. The Law protects our personal liberty, but makes too free with our purses. The act of Habeas Corpus is its great boast and glory, and it runneth thus : " You are commanded (legally) to take the body and secure it ; or, (professionally,) if there is no body to take, try and take something belonging to somebody, and secure that. And as to juries, Lord Mansfield remark- ed, that men's consciences were like their feet, of diiforent sizes, some large, some small, while others resemble gum elastic, and are capable of being very much stretched. Judicial Age. (A71 Arahian Anecdote.) An ancient Roman law assigned the period of thirty-five years as tlie judicial age. Augustus fixed it at thirty. The first of the four orthodox sects among the Mohammed- ans is that of the Hanifitcs, so named from their founder, Abu Hanifa al NomAn Ebn Thabet, who was born at Cufa, in the eightieth, and died in the one hundred and fiftieth year of the Hcgira. He ended his life in prison at Bagdad, where he had been confined because he refused to be made cadi, or judge ; on which account he was hardly dealt with by his superiors, yet could not be prevailed on, cither by threats or ill-treatment, to undertake the charge, choosing rather to be punished by them than by God, says al Ghazali, who adds, that when he excused himself from accepiing the office by alleging that he was unfit for it, and being asked the reason, he replied, " If I speak the truth, I am unfit ; but if I tell a lie, a liar is not fit to be a judge." It is said that he read over the Koran, in the prison where he died, no less than seven thousand times. With all due justice and consideration for the conscien- tious scruples of Abu Hanifa al Noman Ebn Tha,bet, it is highly probable that he would have made a most excellent judge, but a very poor lawyer in modern times. 96 LANGUAGE LANGUAGE. General Remarks. In rude languages, there is far less verbiage or redund- ancy than is usually met with in a language which has reached a maturity of cultivation. Use enlarges and refines. As we mount to the original sources of a language, we dis- cover its close alliance with nature. Threkeldi states that all of the ancient characters of the Irish tongue are called after the names of trees. The uses of language are to be considered in three points of view, namely, natural, moral, and intellectual. He knows but little, who knows only the language of words, often the least graphic and expressive of all ; for a word-language is a kind of sieve, which allov/s the finer particles of thought to pass through, and which are lost, while the grosser remain and are preserved for use. The best language is that which is most replete with meaning, and " which would express less if it uttered more." Lingual Knoioledge. Great linguists have been remarkable for quick percep- tions and good memories, but not so much so for other distin- guishing attributes of mind. If I am acquainted with six languages, I shall be able to call a thing by six different names, and I may be more learned, but not much wiser for it. The advantage of lingual knowledge is, that it opens a communication with strange dialects, and enables us to see how other nations ihink and speak, and in this way it affords many advantageous facilities of instruction and improvement. The emperor Charles V said, that whenever he read a for- eign language he felt a new soul within him. The mere ac- cumulation of words is unprofitable. We derive no more benefit from it than we do from a collection of old coins which are not in circulation, or from a stock of antiquated furniture which is out of use, and is more valued by the pos- sessor than by any body else. LANGUAGE. 97 Languages, Dialects, and Symbols. The cultivated languages in the world are generally set down as seven in number ; the great groups, or families, at five,* while the number of spoken dialects is estimated at three or four thousand. Languages, like races, become mixed and incorporated with one another. But, notwithstanding the multitude of dialects in common use, they are not to be compared, numerically, with the countless and innumerable variety of signs and emblems dis- played within the compass of nature, all of which have their appropriate meaning, and their distinct tones and voices, which appeal directly to the minds and hearts of all men. Language in reference to Brutes. It is a wise provision of Providence, that brutes and infe- rior animals have not the gift of speech. It would provoke opposition and resistance to man, and destroy that patient obe- dience and submission which are necessary for their station in the systematic order of the world. A mutual discussion of their evils would make them discontented and tumultuous, , and there would be no subjection where there was a prepon- derance of physical strength united with reason and speech. They would also frequently be quarreling among them- selves, and we might suppose that their language would be correspondingly coarse, gross, and abusive, such as we have no idea of, and accompanied also with actions and gestures very ungainly and impolite, all which would serve still fur- ther to corrupt and debase by example that class of persons who are already said to approach them most in feelings and character. Inherent Qualities. Monosyl labile languages, like the Chinese, are diffuse. The polysj^nthctic quality of the North American languages (whereby many words are joined to form one) gives them great powers of condensation and brevity. They are not eminently conversational, and the people who use them are taciturn, and observe more than they speak. But great * 1. The Indo-European. 2. Syro-Phenician. 3. Polynesian. 4. Chi- nese. 5. Aboriginal American. 98 LANGUAGE. force and power of expression are acquired by this construc- tional peculiarity, and hence it is that some of the finest specimens of natural eloquence on record, are to be found in some of these aboriginal tongues ; and with cultivation, it is possible that they might surpass all other languages in strength and beauty. The Latin possesses brevity without this associative power. This expression, for instance, in Latin, " esse quam videri maliin,^' is not convertible into English, or French, without employing twice the number of words. Proficiency. Proficiency in any language, is a rare accomplishment ; for even the rudest language embodies in its structure such a degree of philosophy and science, that only a profound degree of investigation and research, united with adequate ability, is able to master it. The ordinary use of conven- tional, or arbitrary terms and phrases, is a very different thing from this. Children acquire these, but scholars and philosophers only attain to the former. And rude minds in early times, apparently by unassisted efforts, originate these primary rules and principles, which, when afterwards fully developed, it requires the profoundest intellects to understand and elucidate them. The Universal Language. It has long been a mooted question, which, of all lan- guages, is most widely diffused and universally prevalent in the world ? That question may now be finally decided in favor of the Jawee dialect. Historians and philologists have heretofore maintained, that the Jawee tongue was wholly confined to Queda, or Keda, a kingdom of Asia, in the penin- sula of Malacca and a dependency of Siam, where it is ver- nacular. But this is by no means the case, for the Jawesse language is spread over the whole universal world. All members of parliament, congress, public councils, and as- semblies every where, are well practised in it. It is used by counselors, attorneys, and pundits in all courts and offi- ces of justice ; and in private life, all domestic feuds and wrangles are conducted in animated Jawesse. It is heard in FAME. 99 the streets, and in the market-houses, as well as in judicial halls and forums ; and no language is kept brighter by use, or is half so widely known and generally ditfused, or is so easily acquired, and when once well learned, so difficult to forget, as the Jawesse. FAME. Nothing7iess of Fame. Nothing is so discouraging to the ardent lover of Fame, as to find that they who have been most distinguished for talents and learning, have looked upon their attainments, whicli might give them just claims to renown, as worthless, compared with those things which it is desirable but impos- sible to know. When to soothe the last moments of La Place, a friend whispered to him, that his labors would perpetuate his fame, and that his name would be immortal — " Alas !" replied the philosopher, " what we know is nothing ; but what we are ignorant of is immense." Worldly Knowledge and Fame. Most generally, men become distinguished through cer- tain achievements, or exploits ; and sagacity and knowledge of the world and of mankind are superadded afterwards to a reputation acquired by other means, but by these enlarged and preserved. On a Backslider. When Faith and Hope and Life were new. Fame had seductive charms for you : A noble ardor then was felt. When to Ambition's shrine you knelt. And prayed that these unconscious days Might weave the dazzling wreath of Praise. Oh, how tlieso bright, dear dreams have fled, In torpid drowsiness how dead ! 100 FAME. And have they all expired in that, So calm, so radiant, and so fat ! So steeped in soft, in sensual ease, That table-pleasures only please, And higher joys contemned, are free To champions pressing on like me. The cause — the cause — need I be told It is the opiate power of gold ? Far happier were the lot to share. Which wars with want, which strives witli care, Where darker clouds of fortune roll, To flash the lightnings from the soul — Than in this oozy state to be. Of crassitude — obesity ; Where every sense is lulled in peace, Or bottled up in market grease. False and True. False Fame is the rushlight which we, or our attendants, kindle in our apartments. We witness its feeble burning, and its gradual but certain decline. It glimmers for a little while, when, with flickering and palpitating radiance, it soon expires. True Fame is the Light of Heaven. It cometh from afar, it shines powerfully and, brightly, but not always without clouds and shadows, which interpose, but do not de- stroy, eclipse, but do not extinguish. Like the glorious sun, it will continue to diffuse its beams when we are no more ; for other eyes will hail the Light, when we are withdrawn from it. Just Rewards of Fame. If we enter " the stony houses of Fame, where tlie im- mortals are," to do homage to the hallowed names therein inscrolled and enshrined, we shall find that the highest hon- ors have been permanently conferred on those who merited them by their great services to mankind, by the good which they accomplished through the moral and intellectual pre- eminence they achieved. Dignities and promotions, in all ages and countries, ai'e sometimes accidentally and un- worthily bostowed ; but intrigue and stratagem, accident and FAME. 101 favor, must ultimately yield to fearless enterprise and un- doubted talents — for the watchful and discriminating tribunals of public opinion never fail finally to adjudicate these cases, and to strip off the wreath and the robe, the ribbon and the ring, from those who wear them without a just and acknow- ledged title to them. Reputation. Few reputations are entirely independent and original. For the most part, the reputation of one man is only food for that of another; and a successful competitor displaces man)^ disappointed aspirants ; serpens, nisi serpentem comme- derit, nonjit draco. Consciousness of Fame. When Franklin succeeded in bringing down the lightning from tile clouds, and proved its identity with the electric fluid, conscious of the importance of such a discovery, and feeling the secret but awakened impulses of Fame, he stood motion- less, and being for a moment absorbed in his reflections, he drew a deep sigh. When Columbus discovered the New World, the first act which he performed was an act of devo- tion, thus consecrating the country to God, and himself to im- mortal fame. The good and great Washington was in the constant habit of offering up prayers at the head of his ar- mies, equaling his greatness by his goodness, and meriting fame because he delighted in virtue. Fame and Oblivion. Some sigh for the gold they have squandered on others, When they looked on mankind as a band of true brothers; Many weep for the charms which they cannot restore, And for love which hath perished, and returneth no more. But I, whom the voice of Experience now rules, I weep for the time I have lavished on fools. For gold we remake, and new loves we may form. And the wreck of the heart may be saved from the storm; And Fortune, repentant for ills she bestows, May again fill the cup till the i)rim overflows ; 102 FAME. But Time, living Time, swiftly hurries us on, Whilst we mourn for the Past irretrievably gone. If mine were the longest of lives I could name, To pass it unnoticed — unhallowed by Fame, I would rather condense its full years to a day, And give that unshrinking to glory away. Than live for the pleasures a lifetime might yield. And fall then at last like a brute of the field. Passion for Glory. La gloire vaut mieux que le bonheur. The love of glory regards, in view of its lofty deeds and daring aspirations, the insignificance of the present by contrasting it with the grand- eur of the future. It dilates itself to embrace an imaginary duration of time, which shall impart to it strength and perpe- tuity. " It is," says Mad. de Stael, " a passion which knows only the future, which has no possession but hope. If it be regarded as a proof of the immortality of the soul, it is be- cause it seems to reign over the infinity of space, and the eternity of time." Contending for Fame. Fame may for us no honors weave. Albeit, we may contend enough ; We miss the Cassock's skirt and sleeve, But almost always get the ci/ff. Obscurity. Unmerited oblivion may be styled only another name for the ignorance of the many of the virtues and perfections of the few. There are some, no doubt, who are elected, but whose misfortune is, nevertheless, to be neglected. If they were well knoiDU, they would perhaps surpass those who are better known. Hence, they who are worthy of fame, and yet obtain it not, charge the failure to the account of the world's partiality, oversight, dullness, or ingratitude ; while, on the other hand, the world waits for some demonstration of power, or for the re- FAME. 103 port of the gun, before it judges of the calibre of the piece, deciding generally in fav'or of the loudest noise that is made. Physical and Mental Qualities. Our associations are so intimately connected with the physical displays of life, that we necessarily draw many of our commonest ideas from that source. The exuberant wild- ness of nature is as favorable to the development of brute forms, as the enervating refinements of the social state are unfavorable to the acquirements of vigorous intellectual pow- ers. When we bcliold any of the celebrated animals of earth, we are seldom disappointed. We see in tlie lion the strength, boldness, and fierceness which overawe our comparative weakness and timidity ; and the vast and majestic dimensions of the elephant correspond to what we expect to see in such a gigantic animal. When we first approach the most distin- guished men, we imagine that we shall experience sensations analogous to these. We expect to be moved by the awful presence of such characters, to see the lion's head and mane, and hear his terrible roar, or to witness the heavy tread of the elephant, and the lithe and cunning play of his proboscis. But we behold no such things. These eminent personages are mostly nothing more than dwarfish creatures in appearance — there is nothing ferocious and dismaying in their aspect — and wlien publicly exliibited, fi-equently show to great disadvantage. It is only when we forget these sen- sual delusions, and look to the moral and mental nature of man, that our feelings and judgments are chastened and ele- vated, and finally receive their proper direction, so as to en- able us correctly and justly to make up our judgments not by outward manifestations, but by inward excellencies; not by the external adjustments of bodily form, but by the internal perfection, beauty, harmony, and superiority of the soul. Local Reputations. Frequently men are distinguished in some places, but be- come obscure in others. They are like those poodles, which are plump and curly in one climate which agrees with them, but turn lanky and straight-haired in another that does not. But it is a poor place or country where reputation is too easily won. 104 FAME. Early Obscurity and late Fame. Many men have been obscure in their origin and birth, but great and glorious in life and death. They have been born and nurtured in villages, but have reigned and triumph- ed in cities. They were first laid in the mangers of poverty and obscurity, but have afterwards become possessors of thrones and palaces. Their fame is like the pinnacle which ascends higher and higher, until at last it becomes a most conspicuous and towering object of attraction. Trust in Posterity. Great and decided talent is a tower of strength which can- not be subverted. Envy, detraction, and persecution, are missiles hurled against it only to fall harmless at its base, and to strengthen what they cannot overthrow. It seeks not the applause of the present moment, in which folly or medi- ocrity often secure the preference ; but it extends its bright and prophetic vision through the " dark obscure" of distant time, and bequeaths to remote generations the vindication of its honor and fame, and the clear comprehension of its truths. " For my name and memory," said Lord Bacon, " I leave it to men's charitable speeches, and to foreign nations, and the next ages." " for a serener clime, Of years to come, and find its recompense lit that just expectation." Ephemeral and Real. The praises and commendations of intimates and friends, are the greatest and most impassable obstacles to real superi- ority. Better were it, that they should whip us with cords and drive us to work, than that they should extol and exag- gerate our childish scintillations and puerile achievements. No virtues and learning are inherited, but rather igno- rance and misdirected inclinations; and assiduous and perse- vering labor must correct these defects, and make a fruitful garden of that soil which is naturally encumbered with stones and thistles. All home-triumphs and initiatory efforts are nothing worth. That which is great, commanding, and last- ing, must be won by stubborn energy, by patient industry, by FAME. 105 unwearied application, and by indefatigable zeal. We must lie down and groan, and get up and toil. It is a long race, not a pleasant walk, and the prize is not a leaf or a bauble, but a chaplet or a crown. The spectators are not friends, but foes ; and the contest is one in which thousands fall through weakness and want of real force and courage. We may add virtue to virtue, strength to strength, and knowledge to knowledge, and yet fail, and soon be lost and forgotten in that mighty and soul-testing struggle, in which few come off conquerors and win an enduring and imperish- able name. If we embark on this course, we shall need stout hearts conjoined with invincible minds. We must bid adieu to vice, to sloth, to flatteries and ease, " And scorn delights and live laborious days." " Now needs thy best of man- For not on downy plumes, nor under shade Of canopy reposing, fame is won ; AVithout which, whosoe'er consumes his days, Leaveth such vestige of himself on earth. As smoke in air, or foam upon the wave." ®l)c i)o\xx-(&[a55. TIME. INDUSTRY. TRUTH. THE TONGUE. CONVERSATION. TRAVELING. AMBITION AND AVARICE. UTILITY AND USEFULNESS. TEMPERANCE. MERIT. NAMES. NATURE. TALENT. KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM. READING. LEARNING. BOOKS AUTHORS. MIND. MEMORY. MIND AND BODY. THE HEAD AND THE HEART. PRIDE. PROMISES. WIT AND HUMOR. MEDICINE. SOCIAL LIFE. ~N/" ^T^ ^ "//>///' //y/.c , Zi* past; thou must not li rcmll ; Time is, then hast; employ the portion small; Time fi/liire is not; and mar never be,. Time present «• the only tijne tor thee . -^s- THE HOUE-GLASS. TIME. Past, Present, and Future. The past is the great depository of facts and knowledge. The future, of uncertainties and doubts. The former we clothe with fictions, the latter with visions. The present mo- ment rests between these fictions on the one hand, and these visions on the other. Spirit of the Present Times. Momus and Minerva, Punch and Plato, Common Sense and Transcendentalism, dispute the possession of the present times. Books which spare the trouble of thinking, and in- ventions which save the labor of working, are in universal de- mand. We would be wise without application and rich without toil. There is more haste than speed ; more enter- prise than profit; more zeal than knowledge; and more avarice than gain. It is a millennium of the frivolous and the sagacious ; the showy and the solid ; the vicious and the vir- tuous ; the imaginary and the real ; the superficial and the profound. Secrets of Time. How eager are we to unfold the Book of Fate, and to de- cipher the characters therein inscribed ! We have no gnomes 110 TIME. or sprites — no oracular trees — no magic wands — no enchant- ing Merlins — no Runic sticks, and no voleries of birds — nor any thing except the mesmerized — to reveal to us the secrets of the future ! But this we know, that our future depends upon our present and upon the past, and takes its complexion from them. " Theirs is the present who can praise the past." On a Slow-striking Clock. — An Epigram. Oh lazy clock, that strikes so slow, With quicker speed canst thou not go ? In counting how time flies away ! We lose the best part of the day. Progress. The world used to be mounted on the back of a tortoise, now it rides behind a steam-engine. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the inventor of a saw-mill was compelled to fly the kingdom as a daring innovator. More recently, Ark- wright, who improved so much upon manufacturing machine- ry, was at first subjected to great insults and personal dan- ger, but was afterwards regarded as a national benefactor, and was enriched and ennobled. Progress, the movement of ideas, is one of the greatest instincts of human nature, and wise are they who are able to distinguish the true from the false spirit of it, the pretended gain from the actual loss, the advancements from the retrocessions. For time hath two di- rections, of the axis and the orbit, rapid, circular, and full of mysteries — the recurrence of the days, the revolutions of the years, embracing both the present and the future. The great, nay the greatest secret of Progress is, that it hath a keen eye that never sleeps, and a vigilant spirit that never dies in the world. Time and Sport. Oh Time ! he who toys with thee, trifles with a frozen serpent, which afterwards turns upon the hand which indulged the sport, and inflicts a deadly wound. TIME. Ill Adaptation . Time subserves all uses, but we do not always know how to regulate it. Light as a feather — weighty as a stone — brief as a moment — tedious as ages — we are variously affected by it. To make time to suit us, we must be able to lengthen and shorten it at our pleasure, as if we had it sti'etched like the victims upon the bed of Procrustes. Proper Emploijment of Time. There are three obligations resting upon us in relation to the use and application of time ; 1st, our duty to ourselves, in the care of our happiness, our improvement, and providing for our necessities ; 2d, our duty to our connections, de- pendants, and to society ; and, lastly, our accountability to God, who bestows upon us this valuable gift, not without its being accompanied with the greatest inducements, and the strongest and most cogent motives, to improve it to advantage in all these three different respects. For " we touch not a wire but it vibrates in eternity, and there is not a voice that reports not at the throne of God." Street Crossing. (Delays not dangerous.) Here must we pause to pass this thronged street, The whole world's trains of carriages here meet ; Some creeping slowly on with funeral pace, While others onward dash to run a race. Though reckless spirits boldly dare to cross, The cautious fear of life or limb the loss ; 'Tis dangerous here to walk, 'tis death to ride — Heaven land us safely on the other side ! Three great Elements of Progress. Steam does for navigation what printing accomplishes for literature. In fact, there are three great elements of Pro- gress, steam, the printing-press, and the ballot-box. Ink is the blood of the printing press. Seizing the Favorable Moment. There are happy moments or flying instants of inspi- ration which visit us like angels' whispers, breathing into 112 TIME. our hearts a sense of better and higher things. If we listen to them and obey them, we shall find them to be the com- munings of the soul with its high destinies. For, as the body affects the things of the body, so the mind has its attraction for the things of the mind, and the soul for the things of the soul. These auspicious moments are like the favorable temperature and showers which make the seeds grow, and the flowers bloom ; or, they are like those propitious gales which give speed and success to the voyage of life, impel- ling our frail barks safely and triumphantly, and laden with rich treasures, into the havens of our destination. Time and Air. Time, like air, is invisible, and must be estimated by its uses and effects. Complete Use of Time. It is a difficult thing to be idle when we fully know the real value of time. But no man can so fully employ his whole time, but that, in spite of himself, he will find some portion of it in which to be idle or unhappy. Night and Day. In sultry climates of tropical latitudes, night is less the season of repose than of recreation and amusement. The Arabs, according to Savary, as quoted by Sale, reckon time by nights as we do by days. This custom doubtless had its rise from the excessive heat of their climate. They dwell amidst burning sands, and while the sun is above the hori- zon, they usually keep within their tents ; when he sets, they quit them to enjoy coolness and a most delightful sky. Night is in a great measure to them, what the day is to us. Their poets, therefore, never celebrate the charms of a beau- tiful day. But these words, Leili ! Leili ! O night ! O night ! are repeated in all their songs. Prudence and Caution vs. Haste and Dispatch. Thousands have had reason to repent that they were too rapid and impetuous in their career : few that they were TIME. 113 too deliberate and cautious. Like the fabled race between the stag and the tortoise, the slowest competitor is apt to win ; with this ditpM-ence, when applied to men, that the tardy runners are most likely to proceed by fair and honest means, rather than by fraud and stratagem. Dependency of Time. Time is ever advancing onward, but leaves behind it the traces of its flight. The last depends upon the first, and the new upon the old ; and neither can be comprehended without the other. Blot out a single day from the pages of time, and the records of heaven and earth will be thrown into confusion and dis- order. Robbery of Time. Time is a gift bestowed upon us by the bounty of Heaven ; but the world steals it away, making us poor in that which is our greatest treasure. Judicwus Improvement of Time. Both life and nature are pregnant with examples which tend to show, how much we are affected by the improvement or neglect of time. How the feet trudge ! the hands move ! wings fly ! and minds toil at their tasks ! All have ends in view, and duties to perform ; and nature reveals to us num- berless lessons of activity and zeal. Folly and sloth decline, industry and wisdom advance. Cowardice is defeated, but bravery conquers. " He showed how wisdom turns its hours to years." Past, Present, and Future. The present time is for occupation ; the past for contem- plation ; the future for anticipation. " Some," says Fuseli, " confine their view to the present ; some extend it to futu- rity. The butterfly flutters round the meadows j the eagle crosses the seas." 114 INDUSTRY. Delays of two Kinds. There are two kinds of delays. One sort proceeding from wisdom, and another from the want of it. The former are salutary, the latter dangerous. INDUSTRY. Industry and Frugality. Spare that you may spend ; fast that you may feast ; labor that you may live ; and run that you may rest. Labor and Rest. If it be a law of nature that we must labor in order to live, it is equally ordained that we must rest. Perpetual, unremitting toil would soon wear us out, and Nature would defeat her own ends, if she disqualified us for what she de- signed us to do. But there is no law, " Thou slialt rest " — that we all do voluntarily. They who assume this privilege, and rest too much, have in the end a harder lot than those who obey the original law, and distribute their time prudently between labor and repose. Cicero observed of Scipio Africanus, that he was never less alone than when alone ; never less at rest, than when at i*est. Industrious Habits. The cool of the morning imparts fire to the mind ; the shades of the evening bring it light. Ardor profits by re- pose, and acquisitions increase with outlay. The day is reserved for the glowing sun, whose rays quicken the pro- cesses of life and growth. The night looks down with its millions of stars, as if so many eyes from heaven were beaming upon us; like so many lights illumining the re- cesses of the soul ; or, like so many beacons beckoning us away to our far homes in another world. INDUSTRY. 115 The Onward March. Rest wlicn the undone is done, Droop not witli.the drooping sun, Freely burn the beamy oil, Press — press on in ceaseless toil. When the stars at midnight close, Chant the requiem of repose, " Holy, holy, holy Time, Lost or wasted, sin, or crime, Misapplied, or overused, 111 is favored, good abused." Listen to that anthem then. Music for the sons of men ; Call the moiling mind away, Ease it for another day ; Seal thy lids with fervent prayer. Welcome hope and banish care — Peace within, calm, clear, and free, Peace without, be all with thee. Soon as twilight strikes the skies, From thy dreamy slumbers rise. Gaze then on the Morning star, " Look aloft," and look afar, — Gird thee up thy race to run, Strive until the goal is won, Labor on, and laijor fast. Time on earth can never last. Industry vs. Sloth. Sloth is a perfect deadness of the soul. If there is any happiness in it — in the dolcc far nientc — it is purely of a ne- gative, torpid, sensual kind. In a sense of industry, in an ardent desire of activity, in an heroic spirit of usefulness, there is that kind of zest and animation, satisfaction and de- light, connected with so much inward approbation and con- sciousness of rectitude in a commendable pursuit, that it is the greatest source on earth of contentment and peace of mind. Drudgery- Occupation without excitement or personal interest, is mere drudgery, and resembles the labor of brutes. 116 " INDUSTRY Efforts well applied. There is, perhaps, no description of business which has not been productive of wealth, and no department of letters that has not led to fame. Every thing depends upon the time when, and the persons by whom they are followed. Indolent Occupation. Some kinds of employment are only apologies for idleness, or ingenious contrivances to reconcile us to that unaccount- able propensity, in the same way as some descriptions of favors are only plausible atonements for ingratitude. Sloth and Pride. In vice and error some are deeply dyed, And what suggests the sloth defends the pride ; That love of self, that equal love of ease, Our constant, greatest, worst of enemies. Enterprise of Man. In vain has nature thrown obstacles and impediments in the way of man. He surmounts every difficulty interposed between his energy and his enterprise. Over seas and moun- tains his course is unchecked ; he directeth the lightning's wings, and almost annihilates space and time. Oceans, rivers, and deserts are explored ; hills are leveled, and the rugged places made smooth. " On the hardest adamant some foot- print of us is stamped in." The soil teems with fertility, and under the cunning and diligent hand of his taste and skill, the whole earth is beautified and improved. The stimulus of a painful necessity urges man to accom- plish more than his necessities require, and the world is filled with monuments and memorials of his industry, his zeal, his patient labor, his masterly spirit, and his indomitable perse- verance. " All is the gift of industry : whate'er Exalts, embellishes, and renders life Delightful." INDUSTRY. 117 Exertion. Our success in life generally bears a direct proportion to the exertions we make ; and if we aim at nothing, we shall certainly achieve nothing. By the remission of labor and energy, it often happens that poverty and contempt, disaster and defeat steal a march upon prosperity and honor, and overwhelm us with reverses and shame. The hours which we do well employ, Give labor wealth, and sorrow joy ; Nor bring they these choice gifts alone. But richer fruits before unknown — Though not disclaimed, nor prized in vain ; And such a life is given to gain. The Usual Course of T/i/nga. The crude material is first made by hard labor in the field, and is afterwards disposed of to the factor or merchant, and thus agriculture becomes the foundation of trade. The manufacturer purchases the staple, and out of it forms the cheap and common, as well as the fine and costly, articles of apparel. The plain cloth is good enough for the sower, and grower, and man of toil ; the richest scarcely satisfies the dainty con- sumer, the idle drone, and the captious non-producer, who, through adventitious circumstances, is enabled to appropriate to himself the better part of that which he has had no imme- diate hand in creating. The fruits of industry, however, supply in this manner to the manii the means of honest competency and successful prosperity, and are made also to impart the required stimulus to the pomp and luxury of the few, until the excesses of the latter involve those consequences which create a revolution between these two parties, and the sons of diligence rise up into the ranks of luxury and ease, and the advocates of the latter fall back into the old starting points of poverty and hard work. 118 TRUTH. TRUTH. What is Truth ? What is truth ? That question, which was propounded by Pilate, had already been answered by Plato. " Truth," says the Grecian philosopher, " is the body of the Divinity, and Light is his shadow." We know what is the quality of truth. It is that which is most acceptable to God and to man. It is the mastery of knowledge and intelligence over error and ignorance. We seek it at every step of our lives. All the operations of the understanding aim at its possession. It is the perfection of the soul, the essence of wisdom, the basis of every science. And without it, learning is but a profitless pastime, and religion itself only a fable and a song. Congeniality. Truth harmonizes with the soul. The inspiration of elo- quence and poetry, the love of nature and of art, as well as all the ennobling elevations of the mind, are only the kindlings of this devotion within us, animating us to the pursuit and acquisition of whatever is supremely excellent, just, and good. The halos flash upon us like the coruscations of the polar lights, or radiance of the morning star. " Either Truth is born Beyond the polar gleam forlorn, Or in the gateways of the morn." Tennyson. Its Strength and Majesty. " Great is the earth, high is heaven, swifl is the sun in his course, but great is the truth, and stronger than all things. " It endureth and is always strong ; it liveth and conquer- eth for evermore ; it is the strength, kingdom, power and majesty of all ages." Truth hy Contrast. Truth is the firm basis of honor, and of every fundamen- tal principle of morality. It is, says Pindar, the beginning of virtue. TRUTH. ' 119 As all things have their opposites, from which they arc removed by contrary principles and antagonist extremes, so the zenith and nadir, the positive and negative poles of no two things are more remote than truth and falsehood, for they are as far asunder as light is from darkness, or as Paradise from Pandemonium. Its Firmness and Security. Truth is the first principle of duty, and the basis of honor, knowledge, virtue and religion. If we abandon it we arc false to ourselves and alien to the Creator. We are lamps without oil, ships without the compass ; we are lost and be- wildered travelers in a benighted wilderness, without path- way or guide. Or we no longer tread on a rock where the foothold is firm, but rather in the slippery road of infamy and error. " Scorn the prison and the rack ; If you have truth to utter, speak, and leave The rest to God." Its Beauty and Dignity There is nothing which all mankind venerate and admire so much as simple truth, exempt from artifice, duplicity, and design. It exhibits at once a strength of character and integrity of purpose in which all are willing to con- fide. Painters and sculptors have given us many ideal repre- sentations of moral and intellectual qualities and conceptions, and have presented us with the tangible forms of beauty and grace, heroism and courage, and many others. But which one of them will or can give us a correct and faithful delin- eation and embodiment of truth ? — that we may place it upon our altars and in our halls, in public and in private places, that it may be honored and worshiped in every home and in every heart ! Oneness of it. Truth is natural, revealed, scientific, inoral, and so on, but these arc branches of that which is One. In natural and scientific truth, the moral and revealed, the law within the law, 120 * TRUTH. may be but partially and dimly perceived. Newton felt this law, but could not elucidate it as successfully as he demon- strated the laws of science. La Place, too, maintained a matchless superiority in science, but in morals all was intri- cacy and obscurity to him. Copernicus and Pascal were high- ly gifted with a combination of moral and intellectual endow- ments. With them the superior rose above the inferior truth and suggested it. The highest mounted minds are adapted to the i-eception and fruition of truth, not dividedly and fragmentarily, but in reference to its unity, comprehensiveness, and indivisibility, and presenting a oneness, which exists by the stability of im- mutable laws, eternal as creative power, and incapable of subversion, even that final truth perceptible to wisdom and experience, and which pervades the essence of all things throughout the boundless universe of God! Creeds and Systems. Truth is not partial but general, and is immutably con- nected and combined with the elements of all things. The passion for novel creeds and systems is universal. Every one warmly embraces his own, preferring it to all others. He presses it to his heart, until newer visions succeed and displace it, when it is cast away and some other adopted in its stead. " I know that age to age succeeds, Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds, A dust of systems and of creeds." Tennyson. Difficult to Conceal. Truth is sometimes exposed by the very efforts and arti- fices designed to conceal it ; like clocks which point the time right, but strike the hour wrong. Truth a Standard. Truth is a standard according to which all things are to be judged. When we appeal to it, it should be with sinceri- ty of purpose and honesty of feeling. Divesting ourselves of all partiality, passion, paradox, and prejudice — of every kind of sophistry, subterfuge, chicanery, concealment and dis- TRUTH. 121 guise, and laying the soul open to what is honest, right, and true, our only desire should be to judge of things as they really are, and candidly and truly to acknowledge and re- ceive them as such. For this is truth — the perception and representation of things as they are. Investigation and Mystery. The mind seems to be conducted in its intricate investi- gations after truth, through " avenues of sphinxes" similar to those which lead to the portals of the Egyptian pyramids. We pass through some mysteries to reach a point where great- er mysteries prevail, we endeavor to penetrate them and solve them, but in vain ; we are baffled in our attempts, and arrest- ed in our progress ; for where we most wish to enter the doors are closed, and the deep fountains which we are most desi- rous to open are forever sealed ! To Ourselves and in Action. To speak trutlifully is to perform but a small part of our duty in the inviolable cause of truth. Many are false in deeds, and false to the world in those things which they them- selves privately know, but acknowledge not, and which are only known where nothing is unknown. When the tongue is silent and dares not speak, is there no look, no gesture, no inuendo which stabs like the stiletto, or is more fatal than the poison of the aspic ? If we knew the truth, what numberless acts of injury and injustice would we not refrain from ! And if we always had the candor to declare it, how often would we confess that the censures which we lavish upon others are more applicable to ourselves, and that we cannot escape those disparagements which are common o human nature, and which none can en- tirely avoid. He who is Truth's friend in action, is a surer friend than he who is only outwardly or verbally so. 122 THE TONGUE. THE TONGUE. Its douile Use. The tongue possesses the double virtue which was as- cribed to the lance of Achilles — it wounds and it heals. " 'Twas thus the great Arcadian hero found The Pelian lance that wounded, made him sound." Vulnus in Ilerculeo qua quondam fecerat hoste, Vulneris auxilium Pelias hasta fuit. Ovid, Rem. Amor, 47. The Heart and the Tongue. " The heart and the tongue," says Lokman, " are the best and the worst parts of man," as Plutarch said of the soil of Attica, " that it produced the finest honey and the most fatal poisons." Governing the Tongue. The first injunction that was given to his disciples by Pythagoras was this : " Above all things, govern the tongue." A most important precept when wisdom is to be imparted, or prudence and discretion are to be practised or gained. Tongue-tie and Excision. Infants are sometimes tongue-tied, but what a pity it is that adults could not often become so likewise ! A Russian empress, for slight cau.se, cut out the tongue of a beautiful princess, and a Roman lady pierced the tongue of a murdered patriot and philosopher with her bodkin. But dark deeds, though buried in the grave, have a voice which speaks of mal- ice and vengeance, ferocity and insult, as loudly as living tongues do of jealousies and wrongs, debaucheries and crimes. The excision or eradication of the tongue is the most cruel and revolting part of a penal and barbarous code. Tongue and Throat. Long tongues are for volubility and chatterbility ; long throats for ululubility and deglulibility. CONVERSATION. 123 Holding the Tongue. If the French are remarkable for garrulity, it must be ac- counted for, not only by vivacity of teinperament, but by the conversational character of a graceful language ; and if more animated and gesticulatory style of speaking is practiced in France than in any other part of the world, it must be borne in mind, in extenuation, that in that country alone exists an institution dedicated to the god of silence, patronized not by women,hni by men. The monks of La Trappe, near Nantes, never speak. No similar establishment is any where known for the benefit of women, although the love of a woman made the founder of this institution in love with secret seclusion and voiceless solitude. That some Exercises of the Human Tongue may be dispensed with. There is not, perhaps, a sound either rural or vocal in the compass of nature, that can be spared half so well as some in- tonations of the human voice. Other sounds, although more discordant, may be natural to those creatures to which they belong, and not offend the rules of custom, or "ears polite." Besides, they may be confined to the locale of forests and jungles, or to unfrequent- ed wilds far from the precincts of " home, sweet home," that happy and peaceful retreat, which is never so uncomfortable and purgatorial as it is amidst the din of rattling words, and clash of noisy tongues. " Ye were not formed to live the life of brutes, But virtue to pursue, and knowledge high." CONVERSATION. Three Requisites. • We may read, write, and even think, and yet converse not, or not be competent to manage our own, or to elicit the powers of others in conversation. Knowledge is the first requisite ; self-possession is the second ; practice is the third. No ignorant, or very timid person, and particularly no miwi- bler, was ever able to speak or converse well. 124 CONVERSATION. Deliberation and Discretion. " Discretion in speech is more than eloquence." It is said of Epaminondas, " that never any man knew so much, and spake so little." The late Chief Justice Marshall was asked his opinion of phrenology : he replied, " I cannot pro- nounce any opinion concerning it ; for I have never examined it." The stoical philosopher, Panajtius, was very cautious and reserved in expressing his opinions upon difficult sub- jects, and usually replied, " I will consider on it." " let this Henceforth be lead unto thy feet, to make Thee slow in motion, as a weary man, Both to the ' yea,' and to the ' nay,' thou seest not." Limited Range. Some persons, in conversation, employ certain fixed and invariable expressions on all occasions. They remind one of the Dutch artist, Vanderveer, who, it is said, never painted a picture without introducing the moon in it. Repartee. Barbarous nations produce men who are great in action and in eloquence, but not those who are profound in learning or science. Eloquence is the moving power of language. Anacharsis was the son of a Scythian by a Grecian woman, and inherited intrepidity from his father, and a sense of re- finement from his mother. When in Athens, whither he had been sent in some diplo- matic capacity, he was desirous of becoming acquainted with the great Athenian lawgiver, Solon. A friend offered his services to introduce him. Arriving at Solon's house, word was sent in that a Scythian had called to pay his respects ; but Solon, having more dignity than courtesy, returned in re- ply, " that friends were best made at home." " Then," said Anacharsis, " let Solon, who is at home, make me his friend," and this accordingly was done. On a certain occasion, the Scythian wit was reproached by an Athenian on account of the rudeness and barbarism of his country. " My country," retorted Anacharsis, " is a dis- grace to me, but you are a disgrace to your country." CONVERSATION. 125 When it was asked of Charidemus also, " Who is the best man in Athens ?" he replied, " He that is least like you." To Speak or not to Speak. Mohammed Ebn Edris al Shafei was the founder of one of the four orthodox sects among the Mohammedans. Al Ghazali, says Sale, tells us that Al Shafei used to divide the night into three parts ; one for study — another for prayer — and the third for sleep. It is also related of him, that he never so nmch as once swore by (xod, either to confirm a truth, or 1o refute a falsehood ; and, that being once asked his opinion, he remained silent for some time, and when the reason of his silence was demanded, he answered, " 1 am considering first, whether it be better to speak, or to hold my tongue." What may he left out. In conversation, leave out as much as possible " I," " My," " Mine," or that four-lettered, and abominable word, SELF. What kind is most pleasing to Young Ladies. Long arguments, tedious and complicated deductions and proofs of reason, and all dry, dull, and prosy discussions, are unpalatable to sprightly young ladies. Miss Chudleigh — subsequently Duchess of Kingston — laid down the following pointed and pithy maxim : " Let us have something that is short, clear, quick and surprising." Silence. " Silence," according to the Chinese philosopher, " is a friend which never betrays," yet is it a drone which often displeases or offends, or at least, is productive of no good. There are as many kinds of silence as there are of conver- sation, or any other sort of noise making. Sometimes it is lively and respectful, attentive and kind ; sometimes blank and vacant, careless and unmeaning. Then, again, it is am- biguous, eloquent, or expressive of a great deal of meaning in an indirect and covert way — is frowning and forbidding — 126 CONVERSATION. sullen and moody — discouraging and terrifying — and a thor- ough damper and restraint upon all sociahility and converse. Silence does not expose and commit us as speech does, but it is seldom that it does not betray its own hidden meaning and import. Keeping Counsel. It is stated by Plutarch, that the Roman general, Metel- lus, was on a certain occasion importuned by a young centu- rion, to know what enterprise he had on hand. To rid him- self of this impertinent curiosity, Metellus replied, " that if he thought that the toga which he wore was privy to his de- signs, he would pluck it off and burn it." During the campaign at New Orleans, when that city had been placed under martial law, General Jackson was urged in a similar manner to reveal his intended plans of operation. He improved somewhat upon the reply of the Roman general, by declaring " that if the hair of his head knew his thoughts, he would cut it off, or burn it off." Speaking to the purpose. It is recorded of the Athenians, that being about to erect an important public edifice, they received applications from two architects, one of whom addressed them in a long and pompous harangue, setting forth all the wonderful things he intended to perform. After he had finished, the other, " Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue," arose and said, " Lords of Athens ! all that this man hath said, I will do." Slammering . Lawgivers have been more remarkable for Avisdom than for eloquence. Neither Moses, nor Minos, nor Solon, nor Lycurgus, were eloquent men. The Bible, indeed, expressly asserts, that Moses was slow of speech ; hence it has been inferred that he was a stammerer, and the following tradition has been preserved and handed down to account for it. " Pharaoh one day carrying him in his arms, when he was a child, the little lawgiver suddenly laid hold of the CONVERSATION. ' 127 king's beard and plucked it in a very rough manner, which put Pharaoh into such a passion, that he at once decreed him to suffer death. But Asia, his wife, representing to him that he was but a child, who could not distinguish between a burn- ing coal and a ruby, he ordered the experiment to be made ; and a live coal and a ruby being set before Moses, he took the coal and put it into his mouth, and burnt his tongue, and thereupon he was pardoned, but contracted a stammering in his speech."* On Things, not on Persons. Dr. Watts observes, in his Treatise on the Improvement of the' Mind, that a good rule to follow when in company, is, to converse on things, and not on persons, " that our conver- sation should rather be laid out on things than on persons." But he did not bear in mind, that persons are often the most interesting things to converse upon, and constitute nine parts out often of ordinary conversation. Bright and Bull. Many good minds keep their brightest moments for soli- tude, their dullest for .society. Tiiey speak to us forcibly from a distance — through the quill — but are voiceless and silent when near by. The attraction of sympathy operates upon them afar off, but is unfelt and imperceptible close at hand. Is it the consciousness of the frivolity around, the fatal power and contact of which dims the brightness of the mind's eye — shuts the heart — and fetters the tongue ? Oh ! how venial is dullness in us, with our vagrant and unmean- ing thoughts — our ready and careless laugh — wlien the heav- en-inspired, the allotted few, have their intervals of eclipse — become darkened and unilluminated — and when the bright Apollos are converted into sleepy Endymions ! We can be cheerful and gay, and throw off our surface feelings, while they, the gifted ones, are silent and speak not. They are treasuring up thoughts, not for present use, but for after time, seeing, observing, scanning, reflecting, and laying up those rich stores of observation, which they will dispense hereafter in seclusion and make our own, to pay off the scores * Shalsh. Hakkab., quoted by Sale. 128 ■ CONVERSATION. of the unsocial hours, when they saw us, but we did not see them ; when they met us, but could not mingle with us ; and when we sought to know them, but knew them not. Ordinary Conversation. Conversation, or intertalking, is not often instructive. It is mostly a pastime indulged by tongue-pads, who show a wil- lingness to listen to commonplace recitals, which spare them the labor of reflection or the pain of turning their thoughts in upon themselves. He who can contribute nothing to conver- sation, should, as Shenstone says, " keep his teeth clean, and preserve silence." " The worst of VVarburton," said Dr. Johnson, " is, that he has a rage for saying something when there is nothing to be said." Conversational Powers. Nothing can be farther removed from profitable and in- structive conversation than mere gossip and gabble, or " bald, unjointed chat." To excel in conversation is the lot of few. It implies great intellectual powers united with cordial feel- ings, and a strong sympathy with outward and inward nature. To reach this excellence, we must have learned as much from inward abstraction as from outward observation, and we must be equally able to depict what we know, what we have seen, and what we have felt. The conversation of Burke was a rich intellectual feast. It exhibited every delicacy and variety, and embodied every requisite that was sumptuous or substantial, to please and sat- isfy. Some endeavor to display force and brilliancy in con- versation like Madame de Stael. Some aim at argumenta- tion, and wield the disputatious sword of battle, like Johnson. Others launch into metaphysics and poetry, like Coleridge. Others are grave and sedate, like Selden ; taciturn, like Cow- per; or silent and hesitating, like Addison; and others still, amuse with sparkling wit, with novel images, copious illus- tration and varied knowledge, enlivened by the attributes of social life, like Curi'an. The conversation of Burns was so imaginative and animated, that the Duchess of Gordon said, "it fairly lifted her off her feet."' In short, the conversa^ lion unfolds the character of the mind and of the man. Hume's TRAVELING. 129 was free from pedantry and well stored with practical wis- (]om — that kind of conversation of which Lord Verulam says, " It makes a man wax wiser than himself, and that more by an hour's discourse than by a day's meditation." Gibbon's was rich in copious information, and communicated in a calm and pleasant manner. " Conversation," according to Shakspeare, " should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free from indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood." " To hear patiently and to answer precisely," says Roche- foucault, " are the great perfections of conversation. One reason why we meet so few persons who are reasonable and agreeable in conversation is, that there is scarcely any one who does not think more of what he has to say, than of an- swering what is said to him." TRAVELING. Profitable and Unprofitable Results. The chief result of traveling is often nothing more than to see objects of curiosity scarcely worth seeing, and to ac- quire information not always profitable to possess. Sir Hen- ry Wolton gave this advice to Milton when a young man, and about to travel in Italy : il viso scioUo ed i pensieri stretii — " an open countenance, but close thoughts," or, " keep your thoughts to yourself, but let your eyes wander abroad." " What say you of Lord Charlton ?" said Boswell to Dr. Johnson. " VVhy, sir," replied Dr. Johnson, " I never heard him speak but of one object which he had seen in his travels, and that was of a large snake which had been discov- ered in one of the pyramids of Egypt." There are some thriftless travelers who " run the great circle," but manage to bring back with them only a few unprofitable and trivial things. They do nothing more than make some changes in their wardrobe, and large additions to their stock of affecta- tion. Like Naomi, they go away full and come back empty ; or like Peter Bell, " They travel here, they travel there, But not the value of a hair Are heart or head the better." 130 TRAVELING, Lord Bacon gave excellent counsel to a young gentleman, who was going abroad: " Lot thy travel," said he, "appear rather in thy discourse, than in thy apparel or gesture." Some one observed to Socrates, that a certain person had not profited by his travels. " No wonder," he replied, " for he traveled along with himself." A Roving Disposition. To be perpetually rambling about, traveling and making love, " Ever roving, ever gay," brings us many acquaintances, but few friends ; occasional pleasures, but frequent discomforts ; many residences, but no settled home. " He that is every where, is nowhere." Ulysses, that man of many sighs and sorrows, makes the following truthful confession to his faithful servant Eu- mseus : " Of all the ills unhappy mortals know, A life of wanderings is the greatest woe !" Advice of the Earl of Essex. When we have perused the whole Book of Life, and read the great volume of the world, the amount of it all seems to be this — that there is nothing valuable or desirable in com- parison of a cheerful and intelligent mind, and of a correct and feeling heart. The old Earl of Essex advised his kins- man, Roger, Earl of Rutland, previously to his starting on his travels, " rather to go an hundred miles to speak with one wise man, than five miles to see a fair town." Recognition of Old Acquaintances. None but the English shun one another's society in tra- veling, and seek to elude the vulgarized crowd of their own people. Great is the pleasure in foreign lands in encounter- ing old acquaintances, and in reviving old associations. Alfieri, when a young man, made a tour through the northern states of Europe. When he arrived at Gottingen, he there beheld an as^i, the first one he had discovered since he left Italy, where they are quite common. He was TRAVELING. 131 so much overjoyed, that he almost fell upon the neck of the Gottingen ass, to kiss it ; but said he, " It was only one ass meeting another ass." Taking Notes. Burckhardt, in his journal from Cairo to Mount Sinai, soys, that he came to the ruins of an ancient city called Faran ; and the most remarkable tiling about it is, that there no one is suffered to put pen to paper. The reason of the prohibition is this : there was formerly a river in that neigh- borhood, but, according to tradition, when a European under- took to write down a description of it, out of indignation, it sunk under ground, and never has been seen since. When the Duke of Saxe Weimar was traveling in the United States, he and his suite happening to be in the western part of Virginia, it became necessary to pass the upper part of James river, in an ordinary flat, square tow- boat, commonly called a scow. His secretary proceeded to take the dimensions of the craft with a foot-rule, when un- luckily he lost his balance and was tipped into the water. " I wonder," said the ferryman, " if he put that in his note- book also !" Foreign Travels at Home. " And wonder much to hearc him tell, His jounieyes and his wayes." Percy's Reliques. A traveler cleared the city gates, Strange foreign sights to see ; And wending from the United States, Was lost in New Jersey. He wandered on throughout the day, From Pluck'min up to Rockaway, And on he went as chanced the fare, From Hudson to the Delaware — The land to see of famous note. Which once was not allowed to vote ; O'er slopes of sand, and plains well briered, He rambled till the man was tired. On either side a city lies. Consuming what the soil supplies, 132 TRAVELING The market gear the country yields, And harvests of blackberry fields ; The diet of a famished race, Grasshoppery formed with sharpened face- In yerbs and fruits who briskly trade. To buy some sugar, tea, and bread, But have a stouter air you know. When nuts and berries finely grow ; Haply a railroad came in view. Which wisely passes through and through, And all who traveling thither stray. Mount on this road and haste away, Their sufferings in some city ceased. Where they are nicely lodged and fleeced. Love and Non-Love of Traveling. The gay and dashing class of travelers are dependent for their pleasures chiefly upon showmen, bankers, bakers, cooks and coachmen. But many there are, who are too devoted to their home comforts to I'isk them by venturing abroad, like the rich Echepolus in Homer, more rich than brave, and " Living dully sluggardized at home. Wear out their youth in shapeless idleness." They who have derived the greatest good, and the most solid advantages from traveling — who have most benefited them- selves and the world — have been incited more by a fearless and laudable spirit of adventure, than by an ignoble love of ease, and have scaled mountains, traversed deserts, and ex- plored cities and countries, and endured every privation, for the sake of novelty and knowledge, and for the just apprecia- tion of them ; and not for those attractive amusements and entertainments, which in all lands are purchased at consi- derable cost, and acquired with little profit, but are never failing enticements to entrap the sensual, the sumptuous, the idle and the vain. More Agreeable than Useful. Few modes of spending time are more agreeable than that of traveling, but many are more useful. It may be useful, but it is occasionally irksome to remain continually TRAVELING. 133 at home. Traveling is an elegant means of living in idle- ness. We acquire by it a kind of knowledge which is not always beneficial, and estrange ourselves from our daily avocations to partake liberally of the vices and pleasures of other people. The Use of Traveling. The use of traveling is to widen the sphere of observa- tion, and to enable us to examine and judge of things for ourselves ; a species of independence and autonomy, and a source of beneficial instruction not to be undervalued. Philosophy of it. There is a profound and instructive philosophy in travel, and great is the utility of it when it unfolds the genius and polity of nations, and the prevailing principles upon which they think and act. It was to study and observe these things that Solon and the great travelers of Greece visited foreign countries, to examine their institutions and to investigate the state of society, to obtain in this manner some valuable and practical knowledge to carry home with them. Not that these distinguished characters were not often given to credu- lity, and not unfrequently imposed upon by ridiculous fables and marvelous events. Herodotus, the father of history, is full of such harmless wonders. There have been travelers, who have gone abroad to make observations purely for the interests of science and philosophy ; and of these Humboldt stands at the head. A philosophical traveler,* in recent times, appeared in America from a foreign country, to scru- tinize the spirit of its institutions and the character of its population, which he accomplished in a manner, not only creditable to himself and to the nation whence he came, but to the one which he visited and of which he wrote. At the same time, from a neighboring nation, a horde of traveling mountebanks also came to the same land, to caricature the people and their government, to deal in commonplace vitu- peration, and utterly to fail in a just comprehension of that condition of things necessarily attendant upon unrestrained liberty of thought and action, and a rapidly, perhaps too * De Tocqueville. 134 TRAVELING rapidly progressive state of society. In other respects, it must be acknowledged, that travelers, in general, who have thought it worth while to publish their observations or adven- tures on and in other countries, have aimed at administering chiefly to the current taste and tendency of the times, in gratifying the prevailing propensity for novelty and excite- ment, and the insatiate desire for incidents and adventures purely marvelous and romantic, curious and strange, and not unfrequently flippant and puerile, — recitals, in which a large share of personal vanity is displayed, but in which little substantial knowledge is imparted. Ordinary Results. Traveling is a pleasant and easy way of ridding oneself of superfluous gold, and of regular systematic business. It is the pursuit of pleasure and excitement, under the tempting masks of novelty and variety. It is searching with much care and trouble abroad, for the happiness, contentment, and recreation which should be found most surely at home. The strangers that we resort to, for the attainment of these things, with equal surprise visit us likewise in quest of the same ; and both parties, at last, after much useless fatigue, disappointment and disgust, are glad to abandon the profitless chase, and to live beneath those happier skies where Providence has cast their lot, where infancy has known its early smiles and joys, and maturer life its bitterness and cares. Lines written on the Mediterranean Sea, on approaching the Coast of Africa. I. And I am sailing o'er thy waves, And gliding by thy lovely isles ; To reach the dusky Land of Slaves, Of turbaned Turks and wild Kabyles. What peerless beauty round me reigns. Fresh with the sunlight and the breeze ! Oh, who would think the clank of chains E'er rang o'er waters such as these ! TRAVELING. 135 III. Thou Queen of Seas, what matchless fame Long hallow'd and revered, is thine ! What deeds of Greek and Roman name, With thy past triumphs intertwine ! IV. The Greek and Roman are not now, And change hatli stretched its hand on thee ! The scroll upon thy azure brow, Reads " traffic," not a " classic " Sea. Naxos and Actium, — peak and bay — The fleets and armies of the brave — All but your memories fades away. Like the blue ether of the wave. VI. Visions are these which rise to view. Where Grecian banners were unfurled ; And where the Roman Eagles flew. To grasp the mastery of the World. VII. The older Glories nerved with pride, Exult no more o'er their domain. Where modern navies tamely ride, To swell the common lust of gain. No more of ancient strifes the seat, Where heroes graced the wars they made ; Now in thy ports the nations meet. Their chiefest strife, the strife of trade. IX. And should barbaric prows explore These freighted realms with robber law, — Columbia's cannons loudly roar. To hold a pirate race in awe ! 136 TRAVELING, But Afric, injured, wretched land! To thy benighted shores we go-^ Ah ! well thy parched, — thy blasted strand- Foretells thy doomed curse of woe ! XI. To what predestined mockery made, To scorn, to servitude consigned — What retributions, paying — paid — For wrongs on thee and all mankind ! This scourge of nations. Time recall, Our hopes in mercy rest and thee ; Break down the shackle and the thrall, Defend the birthright to be free — XIII. That Freedom in her fearless might, May here announce her glorious reign ; And shed abroad a purer light, Where Ledyard fell and Park was slain. Proud Atlas, garlanded with snow. And braving heaven, majestic stands — Oh, might its cooling breezes blow, To yonder fervid, sultry sands ! The Camel's foot those sands shall press, His sheltering tents must Tshmael raise — The robber of the wilderness. Who thirsts for plunder whilst he prays. XVI. Mountains and deserts and the Moor — And prowling hordes in lengthen'd line ; What barriers must be passed before The light of knowledge here shall shine — AMBITION AND AVARICE. 137 XVII. Ere through this darkness it shall break, Where'er the fertile Niger flows — And spreading through these regions make The Desert blossom like the rose — XVIII. Ere Truth's triumphant cause be won, And minds like tiiese broad wastes expand — As gleams of sunshine flash upon The prairies of my native land. For noblest conquests such as these, The leaguing powers join hand in hand — And the bold Lion of the Seas, Quells the wild Lion of the Land. XX. And France, new honors wait on thee, In arts of peace, if wise and calm — Extend the Empire of the Free, And twine thy Lilies with the Palm. AMBITION AND AVARICE. Poor Results of Amhition. How few aspiring and ambitious men are exempt from headache or dyspepsia ! The great Master of ambitkan, Na- poleon, suffered almost as much as he triumphed, and won all his crowns and battles only to die at last of a cancer of the stomach ! Many are the disciples of ambition who are rest- less and unhappy, merely because the trophies of some MiltU ades will not allow them to sleep. Love of Gold. Nature has put a considerable share of iron in the blood, but no gold. That, or the love of it, is found in the heart of man, not to refine and embellish, but to debase and corrupt it. 138 AMBITION AND AVARICE. '■ How quickly Nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object." Want and Superfluity. Too often doth it happen, that to be above the reach of want, just places us within the reach of avarice. As to Thrones and Principalities, The cares of royalty are so urgent, that Lous XVIII remarked, " tliat a king might die, but should never be sick." Un roi doit mourir, mais ne doit jamais etre malade. Nullum iempus occurrit regi. When Prince Louis, the brother of Napoleon, refused the crown of Holland, the Emperor said to him, " It is better to be a king, and die, than to live with the title of prince." Qu'il valait mieux mourir roi, que de vivre prince. The number of those who have declined the offer of crowns, is small compared with those who should have declined them. And the number of those is also small, who have actually renounced the sceptred honors and digni- ties of regal life, compared with those, who, some time or another, desired to do so, but lacked the resolution to carry it through. Charles V and Christina left the throne for convents and crosses ; Diocletian renounced the imperial purple ; Gregory relinquished the mitre ; and Celestinus the popedom — " To base fear Yielding, abjured his high estate." Avarice and Strife. No passion meets with less favor and more opposition than that of avarice. It maintains its ground by tenacity and contention, and engenders strife and discord where all before was peace and harmony. The courteous smiles and ingrati- ating address which the avaricious frequently assume, are at once converted into resolute looks and determined resistance when the love of gain or the dread of loss, even in trifles, is called into play. No impulses of feeling, no love of justice, no dictates of mercy, and no ties of fellowship and kindred even are then AMBITION AND AVARICE. 139 acknowledged, all considerations of whatever nature becom- ing absorbed in the sole regard of self and of lucre. Iron and Gold. When savage nations are first visited by the civilized, they evince the greatest eagerness to obtain iron, as soon as they have come to know the uses of it, while the Christians who go amongst them, manifest a still greater desire for the possession of gold. To accomplish these mutual ends, the savages resort to cunning, pilfering, and bartering, and their more enlightened brethren to deception, violence, and fraud. Contact with the Mean. There is no disgust greater than that experienced by a noble and generous mind, when it comes in contact with the paltriness and littleness of mean people, and more especially, if ignorance besets them also. Their narrow and sordid views, their cunning devices to gain every advantage, their groundless suspicions and watchful fears of injury and wrong, their niggardly parsimony, and unyielding obduracy, and clinching love of money, whilst they have no other love ex- cept that of the most cankered selfishness, fill a liberal mind with absolute indignation and contempt, which it feels so forcibly, that it is always difficult to suppress, although use- less to expose, for it does no good to preach to those who have neither sense nor soul, and who are as deficient in justice as they are in generosity. What is Commanded. The first of the ten commandments prescribes the law of faith, the last forbids the practice of covetousness. A Mean Fellow. Born but to be some snarl or plague, Vile product of a rotten osis.i In every feature of thy face, A want of heart, of soul, we trace; By every honest man contemn'd. By your own looks betray'd, condemn'd, — 140 AMBITION AND AVARICE. Of shame in front there is no lack, And curses ride upon your back. Temptation and Desire. As pomp renews ambition, says Petrarch, so the sight of gold begets covetousness, and a beauteous object sets on fire this burning lust. Sordid Feelings. If the wealth of Croesus, or of Crassus, were offered to any one who. is not a professed Mammonist, upon condition of conforming himself to it, by becoming utterly mean and mercenary, and binding down his feelings within the close limits of a despicable selfishness, he would be right in rejecting such an offer ; for competency, and even poverty, with free and generous sentiments, and an appreciation of things noble and great, would be far better than the amplest treasures under such circumstances, which would render us unfit for happiness within ourselves, and disqualify us to appreciate the happiness of others. In proportion as we contract and curtail our feelings, so do we confine and limit our minds ; and if we have so little faith as never to venture our happiness in the trust of others, we shall finish at last by distrusting ourselves, and adding to our own torments. " It is greatness of soul," says Thucydides, " above all things, that never grows old ; nor is it wealth that delights us in the latter stage of life, as some give out, so much as honor." " O, good Fabricius ! thou didst virtue choose With poverty, before great wealth with vice." Perversio7is. Few sins in the world are punished more constantly, and more certainly, than those of ambition and avarice, — " vault- ting ambition" and sordid avarice. They are universal passions, and their fatal effects are seen not only in the high roads and public places, but in the nooks and by-lanes of life. Not alone among conquerors and kings, — " From Macedonia's Madman to the Swede," AMBITION AND AVARICE. 141 but among the humble and obscure ; in the dissembling arti- fices of trade ; in the unsatisfied lust of wealth ; in the de- voted pursuit of station and power, confederated with the worst feelings, and the most depraved designs. " Who wickedly is wise, or matily brave, Is but the more a fool, the more a knave." The only avarice which is justifiable, is that of love ; the only ambition that is commendable, is zeal in the cause of virtue and good actions. Avarice and Crime. If those sins abound most in the M'orld which are asso- ciated with the greatest temptations-witness the peccadillos of love — we might expect upon this principle that avarice would be often blended with crime. So it would be, and fre- quently is, when the passion of gain is in harmony with a bold and daring nature. But, generally speaking, avarice is a pusillanimous and cowardly vice. It loves security and concealment, where it can collect and hoard with secret satis- faction and delight. But, when not content with ordinary gains, it ventures out in the garb of the assassin, it makes a conspicuous figure in the criminal calendar by its heartless, unfeeling, treacherous and cold-blooded deeds. There is now, or was, a ?e\v years ago, in the Louisiana penitentiary, an aged convict sentenced there for life, who was originally, by profession, a Catholic priest. He had apartments in a re- mote street of the city of New Orleans, and lived alone. It was his practice to decoy the passers-by at night into his dwelling, and, after dispatching them, to commence the work of plunder. It was long before he was detected in his secret crimes, but he was finally arraigned and sentenced to a penitential life of confinement and labor. A regard for his former avo- cation, served to mitigate the severity of his penal duties. He was daily brought out and chained to a tree. His regular occupation was the care of a warren of rabbits, which afforded him an opportunity of contemplating the sportive gambols, the mild and inoffensive habits of those harmless leverets; thus bringing this pleasing picture of playful and gentle inno- cency into constant contrast with his own former fiendith and diabolical passions. 142 UTILITY AND USEFULNESS. UTILITY AND USEFULNESS. Usefulness. There are innumerable ways in which the quality of use- fulness becomes manifest : for instance, by the love of ap- plause, by the desire of success, by the precepts of duty, and by the dictates of affection ; but better still by the hand of adversity. Remove impatience from the mind, and pride from the heart, and few misfortunes assail us that we cannot turn to advantage. Bunyan in his imprisonment, Milton in his blindness, Cowper in his melancholy, VVolsey in his dis- grace, and Napoleon in his exile, all found the means of being useful, and all of them imparted to the world the lessons of wisdom and the fruits of meditation and experience, adapting themselves to the circumstances in which they were placed, and deriving consolation themselves, and bestowing benefit upon others from their privations, reverses, and afflictions. And these are only the greater stars of the galaxy ; the lesser are without number, but not without influence. Necessity and Use. To create creatures liable to wants, is to render them susceptible of enjoyments in the gratification of them. Infi- nite wisdom is required in the appropriate adaptation of means to ends, and principles to practice ; in constituting liv- ing beings subject to necessities, but with capacities adequate to their demands, and by regulating all things in such wise that they shall be suitable for service, by properties, quali- ties, applications, and developments. In this manner, what- ever is produced in the laboratory of Nature, even the most common and ordinary objects, are all applicable to some good purpose and final benefit, and nothing in the world is useless or worthless. Spirit of Utility. Utility is the watch word of modem times, the ruling spirit «vhich insinuates itself into the heart of public and pri- vate deeds. Destructive of taste — offensive to pride — inimi- TEMPERANCE. I43 cal to privilege — the utilitarian influence is uncompromising, but not always unjust. Still, it is endowed neither with sen- timent nor generosity. It subjects every thing to the stand- ard of simple ideas narsowed down to definite results, repul- sive to liberal minds, and is only a respectable recommenda- tion of good acts, and a plausible apology for bad ones. As to Persons and Things. Things should be estimated by their utility, and persons by their usefulness. An ancient writer observes, " With respect to utility, we shall find, on a minute inquiry, that the primary object with all who seek it, is safety ; with regard to pleasure, love is entitled to the first place ; and, as to honor, no one will hesi- tate in assigning the same pre-eminence to virtue." Being Useful. Occasions are not wanting in the world to show the proud and complacent satisfaction resulting from the consciousness of being useful. We derive pleasure from witnessing it in others, and happiness in being sensible of it in ourselves ; as, when suffering is relieved, when knowledge is imparted, when evils are remedied, or when s^ome positive good is ac- complished. So firmly are mankind persuaded of all this, that drones and idlers claim no deference or respect, because they achieve nothing, and are not guided by any exalted, practical, or praiseworthy motives. If we behold others doing commendable acts, we desire to be partakers with them, and disability occasions regret. It is by useful qualities that we must be judged ; and if we have them not, in some shape or capacity, we are looked upon by the active and busy portion of mankind only as mopers and croakers, like owls in bushes, like frogs in a pond, or like parrots in palm-trees. TEMPERANCE. Temperance in Diet. Eat little to-day, and you will have a better appetite to- morrow — more for to-morrow, and more to-morrows to in- dula;e it. 144 TEMPERANCE As to Young and Old. The excess of the young is in the sweet, of the old in the strong. Moderation vs. Excess. Must I discard the social feast, Because thou art, or wert a beast, Or be content whene'er I dine, AVith water, air, and haberdine ? If thou art lured beyond thy might, Must I be monk or anchorite ? If thou art blind, or wilt not see, A slave to wine or gluttony. Must I abstain from sight and taste, And starve on sawdust, slops, and paste ? If lazy thou, yet let me rest ; If naked, still would 1 be drest; If wanton, vicious, weak, or vain, Let me my natural sense retain. Wisely to choose to feel, to do. And live as God designed me to. Beauty of Temperance. There is beauty in temperance, like that which is por- trayed in virtue and in truth. It is a close ally of both, and like them, has that all-pervading essence and quality which chastens the feelings, invigorates the mind, and displays the perfections of the soul in the very aspect. Like water from the rill, rain from the cloud, or light from the heavenly bodies, the thoughts issue pure from within, refreshing, un- sullied and radiant. There is no grossness, no dross, no corruption ; for tem- perance, when effectually realized, is full of loveliness and joy, and virtue and purity are the elements in which it lives. Excess. The excess is committed to-day, but the effect is expe- rienced to-morrow. First the pleasure, then the penalty, and MERIT. 145 the passion before the punishment, which is mild in the be- ginning, but afterwards more and more severe, until the excesses are too often indulged, and Nature has sounded her warnings in vain ; then the retribution is death. If an ad- monitory sign-board were hung out, for the benefit of the old and young, there should be inscribed upon it, in prominent characters, " No Excess.'' Right and Wrong Vieics. Temperance is resisted by some upon the ground that it exacts more than they can comply with, and they prefer to defend a depraved inclination rather than sacrifice it to the cause of virtue. Tlie real sensualist looks upon the world as stocked with eatables and drinkables, believing that he was made for them, and they for him, and regrets that life is too short to satisfy his desires to the fullest extent. They who, to favor their appetible propensities, draw their arguments from the open bounty and profusion of nature, overlook the wisdom of her salutary and restricting laws. For, firstly, life must be supported. Secondly, it must be regulated. Thirdly, it must be directed to future and nobler ends. Tem- perance, therefore, is one of the fundamental laws of nature, indispensable to individual happiness, and no less essential to the public good and the general welfare. Without it, there can be no permanent health of the body, and no solid virtue of the mind. Cold Water and Strong Water. Cold water is a warm friend, and strong water is a pow- erful enemy to mankind. MERIT. With the Burmese. With the Burmese the possession of merit implies the favor of heaven. With other nations it often incurs the re- proach of earth. 146 MERIT. Rewards of Merit. Merit is mostly discovered by accident, and rewarded by destiny. Honor is an uncertain estimate of it, for great honors frequently follow after small claims, and fly away from great deservings. " Thy worth and skill exempt thee from the throng." But suppose that merit, once in a thousand times, should be adequately recompensed, it not only stimulates the pos- sessor of it, but the whole of his class, like the electric fluid communicated along a succession of wires : or, many wheels of emulation are put in motion ; the central one is touched, and all the subordinate ones partake of the influence and act in sympathetic concert with it. Difficult Things. That which is most difficult in the performance, is most praiseworthy and commendable in the execution. The re- sult has a double claim upon our admiration, for we not only admire the deed, but the means which led to its achievement. Modesty and Courage. Mankind yield to the modest, but succumb to the bold. For modesty conciliates and subdues opposition, but courage defies and overcomes it. Concealed Merit. The leaves very often conceal the fruit, but they have contributed to its growth, and without them there had been no fruit at all. Excellence. Superior excellence is rare, but always grand, command- ing, admirable. It is the Alpine peak, high elevated, unas- sociated, and standing alone ; and the elevation which makes it solitary, keeps it so. There are not found the potherbs and flowering plants of earth, but the sun-tints and snow- wreaths of the clouds. NAMES. 147 NAMES. Value and Dcirlment of a Name. The world contains many people who would give worlds to possess the open sesame of a name which they have not, and others who would give equally as much to be dispossessed of the titles they have, or to stamp some new imprimatur upon thorn. But no bravery is more quick and instantaneous, or so invincible as that which is aroused in defence of a good and virtuous name — the best guarantee of respect — when it is unjustly aspersed and assailed by calumny and detraction. Here weakness is heroism, and innocence is a bulwark of defence. Lines to Professor Goldfuss, of Germany. Ah ! well enough can I divine, Without tlie aid of book or date, How thy strange patronymic grew — Thy fathers ruled some great estate, Some mineral lands, or golden mine, Or spreading acres not a kw ; They thought to make the family strong, And rich in treasure and in land ; To brave the shock of changes long. And homages of men command — But dreamt not that where these abound, Much discord and goldfuss are found. I venture on this bold surmise, Thy typic name naught else doth mean; I've known Goldfusses thus arise. And many such we all have seen. Name and Fame. Some men, by the union of great abilities and favorable circumstances, have succeeded in making themselves not only distinguished, but have become the re])resentatives of some abstract principle or quality which is held in great estima- tion amonji mankind. VU.ev/K..' 148 NAMES. - Thus, the name of Floward is identified with philanthropy, that of Napoleon with martial renown, Washington's with freedom, Nero's with tyranny, &;c. The same circumstance is observable in almost every pursuit of the human mind. I Who, for instance, can separate the name of Homer from j poetry, that of Shakspeare from the drama, Newton's from ' philosophy, Hippocrates' from medicine, or the names of Coke, Mansfield, and Marshall, from the profession of the law ? Names adhere like leeches to things. Reptiles and Reprobates have theirs, and Sages and Heroes theirs also. Magna vis et magnum nomen sunt unem et idem, says Cicero. "A great name and great power are identical ;" or, a great name is a tower of strength. Names of Things. In infancy we are occupied in learning the names and forms of things. It is the business of riper years to study their properties and uses, but we still keep up the old prefer- li ence for names merely. On a douhJe Bankrup. — {An Epigram.) A double title crowns thy name, Bankrupt in wealth, bankrupt in fame ; Fair name departed long ago, Foul wealth to leave was yet more slow. Again may wealth be ill- begot, A fair, unblemished name cannot. A good Name. A good name is the richest possession we have while living, and the best legacy we leave behind us when dead. It survives when we are no more ; it endures when our bodies, and the marble which covers them, have crumbled into dust. How can we obtain it ? What means will secure it to us with the free consent of mankind, and the acknow- ledged suffrages of the world ? It is lost by folly, by igno- rance, by destitution, by ignominy and crime, by excessive ambition and avarice. It is won by virtue, by skill, by in- dustry, by patience and perseverance, and by an humble NATURE. 149 and consistent trust and confidence in a hi":h and overrulingr Power. The ignorant have no esteem in the world. The vicious fill the prisons, and die upon the scaflbld. The vir- tuous are exposed to evils and privations, but vanquish them by patience and fortitude. Who live more miserably, or die more wretchedly, than the avaricious, who, incapable of doing good to themselves, refuse to do good to others ? Who succeed better in life than they wlio cultivate skillful arts and industrious pur- suits ? Who have perpetrated crimes more heinous, or en- tailed upon themselves sorrows more lasting, than they who have embarked in the schemes of an unholy ambition ? Op- pression, wrong, outrage, and injustice, we should resist and resolutely oppose, but " Never wade through slaughter to a throne. And shut the gates of mercy on mankind." The young and noble Count de Fiesque, in Italy, lived happily with his family. His palace was adorned with taste anil magnificence. He was fortunate in all things, except a restless and passionate desire for dominion. In peaceful times, he conspired against a just and tranquil government. A dark night was chosen for darker deeds. While some committed havoc, and made the streams of blood to flow in the city, the count commanded the galleys — part of them being designed to attack the shipping, and the remainder the forts which lined the Bay of Genoa. He slipped from his galley, and sinking suddenly by the heavy weight of his armor, was drowned. By one false step he commenced his ruin, by another he completed it. The conspiracy was de- feated, and his body, after it was recovered, lay for four days neglected upon tiie strand of the harbor. It was at last thrown into the sea; his palace was razed to the gronnd, and his family banished for many generations ; and a fair name was disgraced for ever by the ill success of a perilous and doubtful enterprise. NATURE. Teachings of JSature. Nature is to the mind, what Heaven is to the soul. 150 NATURE. Book of Nature. When all books composed by human hands and heads prove futile and unsatisfactory — when they impart no conso- lation and no instruction, and inspire no interest — we turn to the great Book of Nature, and peruse it with profit and de- light. In every page we behold indelible traces of its divine Author, and its legible and instructive characters are dis- played around us in forcible and enduring forms, and illu- mined by the golden light of a glorious sun. All things are voiceful and full of meaning. Our senses are animated and regaled ; our minds and souls expanded and 'edified ; and gathering the spirit of rapture and enthusiasm from all sur- rounding objects, we adore the Power that hath made them, and us also, with hearts to revere and minds to compre- hend. Time, Air, and Light. All nature is but an allegory, and things are hierogly- phics only, speaking to us under the cover of signs and em- blems. The earth and the heavens, of a globular form, shadow forth the circle of eternity. The solid earth is girdled by viewless winds ; and that which is indefinitely confined to space, stretches out into the vast, the illimitable, and the unknown. The temporal is part of the eternal, or "time is a distraction of eternity;" and the greatest sub- tleties and miracles of the universe are light, air, and time. The light is time's criterion, for what estimate could we form of it, if excluded from it by perpetual darkness ? And were it possible for life to be sustained without air under a different order of things, there would yet be an absence of all sounds, and many pleasing emotions which delight us would be wanting. Air, Light, and Time ! — while we breathe the air, behold the light, and enjoy the time of a glorious world, may we estimate them as the most precious gifts and blessings, and as the preludes and harbingers of purer and better worlds, where the air shall be unvisited by storms, the light undimmed by glooms, and time unchanging and eternal ! Occupation of Nature. The daily and hourly occupation of nature is to create and destroy. NATURE. 151 Continuing over as a whole, she spurns the idea of in- dividual perpetuity, and exists only by the laws of constant, unceasing, and eternal revolution. Changes and Transformations. In all the transformations and changes of being witnessed in the natural world, there is a tendency to increased beauty and greater perfection. Nature does not retrograde, but ever advances forward ; and life renewed and continued, is life improved and glorified, and endowed with increased capa- cities and powers. Differences of Natural Endowments. The outward world embraces the inner, as the body docs the soul ; and as the soul diffuses its influence through the bodily temple of its abode, so the natural world, reversely, should and does act upon the mind. If we sympathize with the beautiful forms, harmonies, and expressions of nature — if they act upon us, so that we feel them and grasp them, and possess that fullness of them which impels us to con- ceive, embody, and delineate them, then these impulses of nature determine us to be painters or sculptors. If we look at natural objects in an ideal and speculative sense, with the light of reason and with a glowing imagination, so as to de- velop the wonderful applications of which they are capable, and to blend them with the moral impressions of life, then are we poets. If we employ the same means — only with a greater infusion of logic — and connect these teachings of nature with the interests and passions of man, and are able to portray the emotions which they give rise to in vivid and grapiiic language, then are we orators. Leave out all taste and fancy, extinguish tlie imagination, and limit the mind to definite forms and qualities ; associate it with abstract truths and positive demonstrations, then are we mathematicians. Restrict the intellectual faculties furthermore to established rules and precepts, and call in the aid of manual labor to accomplish them, with the implements of some kinds of handicraft, then we are mechanics. But if we merely aim at buying and selling, weighing and measuring, and con- ducting such operations with all the vigilant and wily tricks 152 NATURE. of trade, then we are tradesmen. If we are fitted for none of these things, or if we can perform none of them to advan- tage, then are we fools or idiots. Temple of Nature. Glorious Temple ! Pillared upon the perpetual hills and mountains, and canopied by the lustrous and enduring skies ! The trees and verdure are thy stately and graceful devices and ornaments, and the clouds the vapory and shift- ing mosaics of thy over-arching dome. The peals of thy orchestral music are the chiming winds, and the mingled sounds of many waters. Thy altars are set up on high, and before them bow the children of men of all lands and nations ! " Lift up your heads, O ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors," and let us enter into this mighty and majestic sanctuary to meditate and adore, and look through nature up to Nature's God. Here is the gate of novelty and joy ; further era is the gate of tribulation and care ; but the innermost of all, is the gate of knowledge and truth. Oh, when the doors of pleasure and delight are closed behind us, and those of sorrow and suffering arc unfolded to view, happy shall we be, if at last the portals of tVuth and light, the Holy of Holies, shall be opened unto us ! Illusions of Nature. Nature pleases us with the engaging beauties of youth, but ofiends us with the unsightly deformities of age. She be- guiles us with distant views of natural objects, mellowing the hues and harmonizing the shades, but undeceives us on a near approach, when defects and blemishes appear, and the illusion of the senses is taken away. " Distant objects are most pleasing to behold.'*' This is a saying which, by classical writers, is ascribed to Julius Csesar. Previously, it was no doubt claimed by some one else. It has now become a proverbial and stereotyped truism in the " Pleasures of Hope." " 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountains in their azure hue." NATURE. 153 Light. Of all the marvelous creations of nature, none is more wonderful or more widely diffused than light. It streams upon us from suns and stars, and from count- less millions of luminous bodies which diffuse throughout the entire universe an in exhaustible and ineffable effulgence ; and no scene can be more sublime tlian this grand and perpetual coruscation and illumination of numberless and indescriba- ble worlds, whose beauty would be imperceptible, and whose existence unknown, were they not revealed to us through the all-pervading and attractive agency of light. Well hath it been said that, " the consolations of philoso- phy have less empire over us, tlian the enjoyments we derive from the spectacle of heaven and earth !" Sympathy ivilh Nature. Man does not and should not stand alone, isolated and detached from all communion, mysterious and incomprehen- sible though it may be, with the natural world around him. The internal conceptions of harmony and love, which all more or less feel, but gifted minds most, blend us in attractive fellowship with the elements and influences of creation. There is an invisible but mighty chain of affinity, which connects the various manifestations of creative power in the outward world with the heart and mind of man. Poets — those inspired ministers and interpreters of nature — have, by the aid of their divine art, initiated us most tho- roughly into these congenial and enlivening associations; and not only the grand and conspicuous, but even the most humble and unobtrusive objects, have a melodious and in- structive voice which speaks in impressive and sympathetic tones to the kindred soul of man, and breathes into it an elevated sense of higher and holier things. " The rocks form a rampart against misfortune ; and the calm of Nature hushes the tumults of the soul." Pure, divine, and ennobling inspiration ! The Apocalypse of man's life ! — tlie most grateful transport of his existence — when we are moved, wooed, and won, not by the promptings of others, but by our own self-directed impulses, and not by act of memory, but by emotion of heart: 7* 154 TALENT. " the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colors and their forms were then to me An appetite, a feeling, and a love." IVoj-dsitorlh. " To talk and walk with Nature, in her wild Attire, her boldest form, her sternest mood ; To be her own enthusiastic child, And seek her in her awful solitude." Brainerd. In this way it is that the benevolent author of creation — in order to enlarge our happiness, to add to the resources of our minds, and to infuse the sweetest and most consoling charms into life — has bound us to the ever living works of his hands by strong and imperceptible links which we cannot sever, and would not if we could. " Nature, too," says Schlegel, " has her mute language and her symbolical writing ; but she requires a discerning intellect to gain the key to her secrets, to unravel her pro- found enigmas, and, piercing through her mysteries, to inter, pret tlie hidden sense of her word, and thus reveal the fullness of her glory." TALENT. Difference of Development. The incubation of talent is subject to different periods of time and to different results. The small egg of the nest, ex- posed on some waving bough, may produce the bird which will soar and warble through the air, whilst the bigger egg, which has been sheltered with much pains, only hatches out the great fowl whose ainbition never leads him further than the barn door. Talent and Genius. Talent is strength and subtlety of mind ; genius is men- tal inspiration and delicacy of feeling. Talent pos.sesses vigor and acuteness of penetration, but is surpassed by the vivid intellectual conceptions of genius. The former is TALENT. 155 skillful and bokl ; the latter aspiring and gentle ; but talent excels in practical sagacity, and hence those striking con- trasts so often witnessed in the world, the triumphs of ta- lent through its adroit and active energies, and the adversi- ties of genius in the midst of its boundless but unattainable aspirations. Talent is the Lion and the Serpent ; Genius is the Eagle and the Dove. Or, the first is like some conspicuous flower which flaunts its glories in the sunshine, while the last resembles the odo- riferous spikenard's root whose sweetness is concealed in the ground. The flower displays itself openly, the root must be ex- tracted from the earth. Aspirations. Fiery talent ever overleaps its bounds. If talent is only respectable, it would be great ; if creditable, it would be famous ; if more than common and ordinary, then most uncommon and extraordinary. The gift, a miracle ; the endowment, a revelation ; the small rush-light, a long mass candle; and the twinkling star, a dazzling sun. By Right of Discovery. Some persons have the talent of finding out talent, where no one else can perceive it. It exists then wholly by right of discovery, the discoverer as usual assuming the credit and privileges of the discovery. But others again are skeptical where believers abound, and they are flattered by an opposite kind of penetration. * Its Tetnptalions and Dangers. Great talents create enlarged desires, difficult to be grati- fied. They open the spacious field of ambition, which is full of dangers and pitfalls. They excite the enmity of those, who, taken singly, arc impotent and despicable, but united in a body, are formidable and overpowering. The perils how- ever from witliin transcend tliose from without, and he who 156 KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM. is gifted with great abilities, is, as it were, mounted upon a wild and spirited courser, which it requires skill, judgment, and experience to manage, to prevent the rider from being hurled from his seat, and thereby either crippled or destroyed. Talent and Mediocrity. Mediocrity not unfrequently wins the honors and emolu- ments that talent often aspires to in vain. It is the great gold- en rule of cautious prudence, and sure, undeviating wisdom. Its days, abound with peace, and its nights with sweet repose. While the great and lofty are hazarding their safety in the clouds, and inhaling attenuated vapors, the humble but pru- dent advocates of mediocrity securely rest upon the earth, not where grow the reeds and flowers, but amidst harvest fields and well-stored granai'ies. One Talent. If we possess but one talent, it will be better for us, if it be of a practical and productive kind. KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM. Practical Knoioledge. Practical knowledge should in many cases be styled tech- nical knowledge, as it is generally restricted to some especial objects, and beyond the limits of these it is no knowledge at all, buti»only a specious apology for the want of it. Advantages of Knowledge and Love of it. First, that it can be acquired ; secondly, that it can be retained ; thirdly, that it can be increased ; fourthly, that it can be imparted ; fifthly, that it can be made a souj'ce of sat- isfaction and happiness to ourselves and others. It was said of Plato, so devoted was he to the acquisition of knowledge, that his ardor was unremitting, and he was no less anxious to obtain information than he was willing to com- KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM. 157 municate it. A friend inquired of him, how long he intend- ed to be a scholar. " As long," replied Plato, " as I am not ashamed to grow wiser and better." And the following say- ing is ascribed by Pomponius to the Emperor Julian : " Al- though I had one foot in the grave, I should still have a de- sire to be learning something." Knowledge and Inspiration. Knowledge without inspiration is the clay-like body with- out tlie animating, life-giving Promethean spark. It has no soul, no spirit, no essence of beauty, no creative and combin- ing power. It is tedious, prolix, wearisome and dull as a thrice told tale, whilst inspiration is the living and quickening principle of emotion, which imparts to the mind all its inter- est, novelty, grace, attraction and effect. And knowledge is won only by a pure, devoted, and passionate love for it. As in the legend of the rich Melisso, who wasted his substance in giving costly entertainments to his friends, who never loved or esteemed him — when lie complained of his misfortune and disappointment to king Solomon, the latter replied to him, " Learn to love" — so also must we learn to love — for one who knew well the nature of knowledge, said, " Thou hast not gained the cordial if it gushes not forth from thy own soul." A truly Wise Man. A wise man, says Lactantius, is the true sacrifice of the Great God : his spirit is his temple ; his soul is his image ; his affections are his offerings : his greatest and most solemn sacrifice is to imitate him, to serve and implore him ; for it is the part of those that are great, to give, of those that are poor, to ask. Importance of Facts. — Inferences from a single Fact. A writer has knowledge of a fact, and records it. He is the chronicler or historian. Another embellishes it with fancy, and imbues it with feeling ; he is the poet. Another depicts it ; he is the painter. Another investigates the princi- ples of it ; he is the moralist. Another, the utility of it ; he is the economist. Another, the nature and relations of it*; he is 158 KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM. the philosopher. Another, the solid and real advantages de- rivable from it ; he is the practical operator. Another still, its imaginary or probable uses and ends ; he is the theorist. Take a single fact as an example ; *' Columbus discovered America" and it will illustrate all these positions, and show how many views and applications a solitary circumstance may ijive rise to. For, in this case, there are no less tiian eight individuals who seize upon a fact, and turn it respect- ively to account ; and it is easy to perceive how the condition of tilings mav so operate as to increase this number almost without limit. Knowledge and Fame. Knowledge is the fruit that is still yielded by the Tree of Life, and it is the hand of Fame which plucks it. What kind of Knowledge is best ? Some kinds of knowledge are preferable to others, but that is most desirable which exposes and makes us feel our igno- rance most, by bringing into contrast the known and the un- known, the attained and the unattainable, and which teaches us to be sensible of our deficiencies, rather than to be elated with imaginary excellences. This is the knowledge which grows up in the spirit of meekness, and whose humility is its strength. Knowledge and Respect. No man can ever be contemptible who is endowed with knowledge, provided that he knows how to use it ; provided also, that he is sensible that knowledge is worthy of respect, and must procure it. Human Wisdom and Weakness. Neither the maxims of wisdom, nor the precepts of reli- gion, can always fortify man so that he cannot err. They are his best and safest guides, and might be infallible, if it were possible for us to surrender ourselves entirely to their influence and control. But the tension of our mental reso- lution is liable to become relaxed, and our weaknesses too KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM. 159 often mutiny against the prescribed discipline of virtue and strength. What an anomaly and mystery is it, that wisdom should take up her abode in the midst of degrading and conflicting passions and feelings ! She dwells with Seneca, who is a miser ; with Bacon, who is corrupt ; with Julian, wlio is a tyrant and an apostate ; and witii Empedocles, who is a mad- man. That is, the wisest men are not exempt from human frailties and defects, which the greatest wisdom is unable en- tirely to overcome. But in spite of these drawbacks, wisdom makes itself honored and respected, and wins upon our affec- tions by the simple grandeur of its dignity and serenity. Credulity. In spite of reason and persuasion, Credulity will have its way ; and they who are guided by it, believe, and insist upon it, that what the sclioolmaster and the doctor do not know, the pedant and the quack do ; and that no-study knows by intuition what much study can never find out by great appli- cation. The Cocoa-nut. (Mi/kiness.) Most heads have two eyes, mine has three, It grows sans body on a tree. It is outside as hard as thine, But yours within 's as soft as mine, And just as milky I opine. The cocoa-nut having three eyes, may be regarded as the symbolical representative of Prudence, which is also symbol- (/ ized with three eyes, regarding the past, present, and future, n Self-knowledge. To know ourselves, we must commence by knowing our own weaknesses, and the strength of others, as well astheir weaknesses and our strength. It is a result derived also from comparing ourselves as individuals with others collect^ ively, or with the world at large. Our foibles should be re- garded as salutary cliecks upon our presumption, and our wisdom as the triumphs of self-knowledge, or of those conclu- 160 KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM. .sions which are forced upon us by a pj'ofbund study and tliorough comprehension of the inward tendencies and opera- tions of life. Knowledge of Ourselves and of Others. Every one has something to conceal from the scrutiny of others, and we should be in danger of hating the whole world, and of compelling the whole world to hate us, if we knew one another intimately and thoroughly. Does every body dislike those whom we dislike, or are those whom we love, beloved by all ? Ignorance and Hypocrisy. Ignorance, per se, moves our pity, and that modifies our aversion. It is only when accompanied with arrogance, ostentation, or disdain, that we act in direct opposition to it, and treat it with derision and contempt. An affectation of learning with the ignorant is hypocrisy of the mind, as an assumption of virtue with the vicious is hypocrisy of the heart. If the really virtuous often endure reproach, and the truly learned know but little, where shall these two great classes of hypocrites appear ? Education and Knowledge. Education is the means of acquiring knowledge. Know- ledge is of two kinds, theoretical and practical. It is also technical or special, and general or universal. Knowledge relating to facts and things is information ; connected with particular studies, and especially with literary and scientific pursuits, it is learning. But when it refers to the original exercise of the mental powers, it is intelligence, the highest endowment of the mind, and the most honorable attribute of man. The object of every kind of education should be to com- municate knowledge, and to excite this intelligence in the minds of others : firstly, by imparting information ; secondly, by encouraging application; and lastly, by calling into exer- cise the native and original powers of the understanding. READING. 161 Prejudices against Knowledge. The gross and irrational prejudices of the world constitute one of the chiefest obstacles to the acquisition of knowledge. While men do not wish us to be ignorant, but, on the contrary, expect us to be well informed, they desire us to limit our at- tainments, as they themselves do theirs, and caution us against a waste of time in severe and continued application. Although the ignorant are no better judges of knowledge than cowards of bravery or the blind of colors, yet it requires no small degree of resolution and heroism to surmount these difficulties and to resist these admonitions, coming, as the latter do, from those who are interested or pretend to be so in our welfare, and who really mean to do us good. There is another motive also, which greatly influences the minds of the sensitive. We have, perhaps, been already denounced and condemned for our devotion to knowledge, and we dread the addition of ridi- cule when superadded to the sentence of condemnation already passed upon us. By these means many timid and irresolute, but praiseworthy persons, arc effectually discouraged, and become proselytes to the superfcials. The Horatian maxim is, " Dare to be wise {sapere audc) ; and Dr. Watts quotes an excellent motto adopted by Lord Chancellor King, Labor ipse voluplas, Toil is its oirn pleasure ; and so also is know- ledge its own recompense, its own delight, and its own hap- piness. READING. Reading and Thinking. If we have not always time to read, we have always time to reflect, if not upon learned subjects, at least upon those things which lie around us and near us, and which are very often the most profitable themes for contemplation and study. Why should our minds ever live upon the charities of others ? Cultivating our own Thoughts. We should esteem those moments best improved which are employed in developing our own thoughts rather than in acquiring those of others, since in this kind of intellectual 162 READING. exercise alone our own powers are brought into action and disciplined for use. Conversation and Reading. We may be overpowered by the force of intellectual con- versation, as we occasionally may be by some works that we road, but the latter is more voluntary. Habit of Reading. Reading is sometimes a slothful indulgence which we resort to, to avoid the trouble of thinking ; and by it we make use of other people's minds to save our own. " Books do not teach the use of books." Again, reading may become an inveterate habit, not easy to be broken. When Luther was flying from his persecutors and concealing himself, in disguise, in the remote parts of Germany and Switzerland, he was cautioned by some of his friends in regard to his usual exercise of reading, and was advised to be seldom seen with a book in his hand, for fear that he might thereby be betrayed. Reading loo Little or too Much. The danger of reading too much is, that we shall have only the thoughts of others. The danger of reading too little or none at all, that we shall have none but our own ; and there is no more edification in that tlian there is in a man's talking to himself. Essential Rules. It was a saying of the Earl of Roscommon, that we should choose an author as we would a friend. Books are, indeed, our friends or foes. They do us either good or harm. They improve or corrupt. They either waste our time or enable us to employ it to advantage. If we seek the com- pany of the idle or the vicious, the foolish and tiie vain, what can we expect but to imbibe their qualities, and to remove ourselves farther and farther from the virtuous, the exem- plary, and the wise ? LEARNING. 1G3 If our associates seek only to amuse, they will seldom instruct us. Thus it is with some, and with most fashionable authors ; they desire to entertain us, but do not increase our stock of knowledge a great deal. They do not enjoin upon us that culture of the mind, that discipline of the feelings, that love of virtue and that abhorrence of vice, that contempt of ignorance and folly, and that admiration of wisdom and truth, which alone can elevate us in the scale of rational and intel- ligent beings, and give us just conceptions of the value of life and of its great destinies. Haslc and Impatience in Reading. Some readers are as impatient to see the conclusion of a book as some travelei"s are to arrive at the end of a journey. But impatience destroys profit and perverts the use of time. It is incompatible with those habits of attention and reflection by which alone all valuable knowledge is at first acquired, and afterwards turned to advantageous account. Unprofit- able works only require a hasty perusal. Reading and Writing. He who is always reading, and never writes, is like the husbandman who is ever collecting seeds but never sows them, or wlio sows but never reaps. LEARNING. Lcamhig and Knowledge. Learning is the foliage of the tree. Knowledge is the fruit. The tree of knowledge was a fruit-bearing tree. When the fruit was seen, then arose the temptation. When plucked and tasted, then came the knowledge of good and evil — the starting-point in human attoinments, the beginning and the end of all wisdom, the first lesson that was learned and the last that should be forgotten in the career of life. 164 LEARNING. Taste. Taste has been called " an instinct superior to study, surer than reasoning, and more rapid than reflection." Taste is of two kinds. The above is the taste oi perception, and refers to the appreciation of the harmony and relation of things. But taste in execution and finish is a painstaking and laborious art, exacting quickness of sight and delicacy of touch, and thorough precision in both. Meditation and Study. " We should," says Descartes, " meditate more than wc learn." Learning, without meditation, fills the mind with the ideas of others, but excludes our own. He who studies the works of nature, learns to be wise ; if we study onlj^ the works of men, we take the copy instead of the original ; and if the copy be imperfect, our impressions of an imperfect copy are still farther removed from truth, and are often nothing more than " shadows of shades." Pretenders and Pedants. There are three things which give value and consequence to life, viz., religion, society, and learning. Men generally seem to be sensible of this, for in this triad are comprised the objects of our present and futui'e welfare, if we live to any rational purposes at all. But to be shining lights in religion, in society, or in learning, falls to the lot of ^ew. The false lights — the counterfeited resemblances of the true and genu- ine — glitter around us in every direction, and dazzle us with their glare. Who shall distinguish the true from the false, the genuine from the mock suns ? For religion and society have their hypocrites, formalists, and impostors ; and learning its pretenders, sciolists, and pedants. Learning and Ignorance. There are fewer learned persons, and fewer ignorant ones, in the world, than is commonly supposed. I LEARNING. 165 Charms and Attractions of Learning. Some men have voluntarily secluded themselves in caves and garrets ; others have been immured by force in prisons, and have endured heat, cold, hunger, privation, want, suffer- ing, contumely and reproach, and yet have been faithfully true, and ardently and patiently devoted to the cause of learning. That of itself has been motive, attraction, interest and happiness enough, and without it, all other things had been of no estimation. Some earnest lovers of truth and know- ledge have moreover encountered the anguish of bodily pain ; have become blind ; have been crippled with deformity or disabled by disease ; yet the mind has triumphed over all these difficulties and obstacles. It has found in the exercise of its powers the best antidote of care, and achieved its grati- fying consolation and encouragement, in its deliglitful recre- ations and ennobling pursuits. " For the wise love wisdom, and will search for it, as for life and salvation." Pride of Learning. What an admirable sentiment is that of Sir Thomas Browne, when speaking of his freedom from learned pride ; — he says, " Those petty acquisitions and reputed perfections, that advance and elevate the conceits of other men, add no feathers unto mine. I have seen a grammarian tower and plume himself over a single line in Horace, and show more pride in the construction of one ode, than the author in the writing of the whole book." " What we know," says Socrates, " is, that we know no- thing at all." Learning and Truth. The light of learning should be the light of truth. It should illumine the darkness of error, and be a certain bea- con to conduct us through the concealed, the rough, and in- tricate ways of the world. The Means and the End. Some great and learned scholars have had but a scanty supply of books, whilst it is not uncommon for many vain 166 BOOKS — AUTHORS. and shallow men to possess extensive and costly libraries, which they arrange with great parade and effect, and keep more for show than for use. Tlicy pay the same deference to the cause of learning, as others of the same cast do to that of religion, by strictly observing all the external forms and ceremonies thereof. Dr. Watts remarks of these individuals, that "their libraries are better furnished than their under- standings." Learning and Wisdom. Learning is diffused over a large surface ; wisdom is con- densed to a small compass. Learning collects materials ; wisdom applies them to some use. The one may be regard- ed as the boards and timbers, planed, morticed, and adjusted, while the other is the architect which constructs them into a suitable and commodious edifice. Without this application, the materials, although prepared with care, skill, and expense, would be nothing worth ; they would only be incumbran- ces, and might as well be thrown as fuel upon the fire. BOOKS— AUTHORS. Books and Book- Knowledge. Those books are most profitable to read which make the readers think most. That some are to be read, and others studied, is an old remark ; so also is the saying of Roscom- mon, that we should choose a book as a friend. Diminutive books, like diminutive men and women, may be of greater value than they seem to be, but great tomes are greatly dreaded. It is a saying that " books file away the mind." Much reading is certainly not profitable, without much medi- tation ; but many vigorous and profound thinkers have read comparatively little, although most great men have been very devoted and ardent readers. When it is said, that there is scarcely any thing that is not to be found in books, it does not import that we shall find every thing in them, unless we are great handlers of them. Books of the least merit are the decanted books, as Lord Bacon calls them, and made by BOOKS — AUTHORS. 167 pouring the contents of one into another. A book wliich is destitute of talent, proves, says Montesquieu, cither the pa- tience or the memory of the author. The knowledge which is stored up in print, is accessible to every one who will read and study. Other and more pro- fitable kinds of knowledge must be obtained by reflection and observation — by studying ourselves and studying nature. Book-knowledge is undervalued and ridiculed by men of the world, as being deficient in practical interest. But mere practical knowledge is resti'icted within limits too narrow for an aspiring mind. Learning has ever been loved by some too much, and by others too little. " nnd books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good." Their Reception in the World. Books come in for their full share of the praises and cen- sures bestowed upon w-hatever belongs to humanity. They are, in their nature, either harmless or full of harm. They are lauded for their virtues and excellences, and condemned for their blemishes and defects ; are caressed by partiality and favor, and assailed b}- prejudice and hate. Some are honored by kings and princes, and others dishonored by the e.xecutioner and hangman. But the proscription to which they are sometimes subjected in private, when the youthful and ambitious are discouraged from studying them, when of a useful kind, is arrogant and odious, but is all that might be expected from profound ignorance and absurd and prepos- terous })rcjudice. Epigram on a Dull Author, u-ho puffed himself and his works. Less puffing, dear Eugenio, make, Thy works will scarce survive a day : The stupid things would hardly take, Even should you give them all away. Spare, spare your friends the painful task, To read, to nod, to scoff, condemn : And if revenge on foes you ask. Inflict this punishment on tiiem. 168 BOOKS— AUTHORS. Desultory Reading. It is with books as with food, the plain and substantial is apt to be most wholesome or least injurious. As the dishes are multiplied, the taste becomes more vitiated and fastidious. The appetite is soon cloyed and satiated when pampered to e.xcess, and it is essential for health and comfort to have re- course to plainer and less noxious fare. So the increased attractions and novelties of literature divert and amuse for a while, until entailing upon us the usual penalties of unprofitable pastime, if we regard our intellectual interests, we shall be glad to relinquish these agreeable recreations, in favor of what is less captivating and seductive, but more salutary and profitable. Parodial Epigram. Ye books ! which roam all over the world, And many from over the sea ; Ye are so unacquainted with man, Your lameness is shocking to me. Originality. Nothing is more elevating to the mind, than to experi- ence the etiect of bold and original thoughts. Wiience they come we know not, but they resemble the rainbow which is born of the sun and the cloud ; and like it, also, they reflect a brilliancy and beauty which all admire. The Best Book. The best of all books is the Book of Nature. It is full of variety, interest, novelty and instruction. It is ever open before us. It invites us to read ; and all that we require is the will to do it — with eyes to see, with ears to hear, with hearts and souls to feel, and with minds and understandings to comprehend. Infinite intelligence was required to com- pose this mighty volume, which never fails to impart the highest wisdom to those who peruse it attentively and rightly, with willing hearts and humble minds. BOOKS — AUTHORS. 169 Writing and Speaking. Writing admits of more condensation than public speak- ing. Tlie style of Tacitus is admirably adapted to the histo- rian, that of Cicero is better suited to the forum. On a Dull Author. The man tliat wrote these stupid pages, Shall live perhaps in after ages. Some critic then who stamps and rages, Shall give his fame its lawful wages. And roast it well through all its stages. Imitation. Originality is the rarest of all things under the sun. Not only men, but nations imitate one another. Lucretius wrote on the nature of things (De Rerum Naturd) in Latin, as Empedocles had already done in Greek. The Romans imi- tated the Greeks, not only in manner, but in the subjects on which they wrote. The Italians, and all Europe, have imi- tated the Latins ; the English, the Italians and Germans and nearly all other nations ; and the Americans, the Eng- lish. Style. Mere style makes a stylish writer, but something more is necessary to make an original one. A good style, however, is not wholly negative ; it implies cultivation, skill, and practice. The Pufers. O, puff, puff, puff, puff, till with the smoke Our eyes all water, our throats all choke ; The last we'll clear and the first we'll wipe — Puff — puff on — thou ever puffing pipe. Use of Books. " Books do not teach the use of books." Some books we should make our constant companions and associates, others we should receive only as occasional 170 BOOKS — AUTHORS. acquaintances and visitors. Some we should take with us (not those which we generally do) wherever wc go. Some we should leave behind us for ever. Some of them, like vices of gilded outsides, which the)' conceal, but represent, arc full of depravity, and wc should shun their ideal images, as much as we should their actual representatives, which we meet with in the world. Some books we should keep in our hands, and lay on our hearts ; and the best way we could dispose of others would be, to throw them into the fire. Authors and Politicians. Authors have generally been mild and modest men ; po- liticians, bold and arrogant ones. Commonness of Plagiarism. Plagiarism is the great bond of union amqpg authors, es- pecially with the poetasters. With great writers, it is set down as a virtue ; with small, as a crime. Poetry and Prose. The language and sentiments of poetry possessing a more universal application, are not so much subject to fluctuations of times and style. The poetry of Milton still retains its freshness and beauty, but his prose productions are harsh and crude, and seldom or never read. The best prose composi- tion partakes in some degree of the nature, spirit, and orna- ment of poetry, and sparkles with some of its brightest gems. Works of Fiction. Works of fiction are the ornamental parts of literature and learning. They are agreeable embellishments of the edifice, but unsolid foundations for it to rest upon. Aristotle wrote against the abuses of rhetoric, which had become too ornate and artificial among the scholars of his day, and he endeavored to substitute the methodical rules and principles of a sound logic in their place. Cervantes under- took to correct the exaggerations and extravagances of knight- errantry. What Aristotle accomplished for the intellectual, BOOKS — AUTHORS. 171 Cervantes performed for the social errors of his times. The evils of fictitious writings at present, are of both these kinds, social and intellectual, and they atlcct our manners as well as our minds. The romance writers, however, need the hand of no satirist to correct and restrain them, for they will ultimately correct and restrain themselves, by exhausting or overworking the subjects of fiction, and by surfeiting the public appetite with a superfluity of light and imaginative works. Plagiarism. Those lines, which many eyes have read, Flow'd from his pen^ not from his head ; The style is new, the words well coined. The quill was bought, the thoughts purloined. For crimes like this, there's no redress, For let the theft be more or less, All you can do, is but to rail, — The knave cannot be sent to jail. And were he chastised at a post, The good example might be lost ; 'Twould move a pitying world to tears, To scourge his back, and crop his ears. Contrition, too, were sheer pretence, With him who has no shame nor sense ; But where there is no blush, — no fear, There's sometimes virtue in a sneer. Variety of Style. The style of some writers is as weak as water ; that of others, as sparkling as wine. Style in general, presents the various forms of debility and vigor, beauty and deformity, care and neglect, intricacy and obscurity, or simplicity and grandeur. With some, it is penetrating, and cuts like a two- edged sword ; \\\l\\ others, it possesses both grace and strength, like carved marble, or shafts of polished steel ; and with a few, it is like furbished and finely wrought silver and gold, ornamental, weighty, and valuable. 172 BOOKS — AUTHORS. Vanity of Authorship. The personal display which is made by some authors in their works, resembles the vignettes and embellishments on a bank-note, which look fine, but do not enhance its value, for gold and silver are the only legal tenders. In business, men seek not the tinsel, but the real gold, or something of sub- stantial value. And also in war, it is not the flourish of the trumpets, but the firing of the shots, that Avins the battle ; and so more especially in books, the paper and the parade are all nothing, the mind and the matter every thing. Modern Literature. Some of the best and most cultivated minds of modern times, which have directed the current of literature, have done the least for the actual benefit of mankind. They have been influenced by considerations of self-ad- vancement and literary celebrity, and have sought less to in- struct than to amuse, and to gain admiration rather than to win gratitude. It would bo unjust to suppose that these ac- complished minds have acquired their stock of knowledge, and invigorated their intellectual powers, by the use of the same kind of delicacies which they serve up to us. This is an imperfect way to impart vigor to thought, and to add strength and stamina to the thews and sinews of manhood. All feel it and acknowledge it, but who endeavors to fly from the garden of delights, or to escape from the Circean islands of corruption and pleasure? Reason is unattractive — science is too profound — and thought exacts too much labor and effort. The drauglits of pure knowledge are drawn from deep sources, but we quench our thirst from shallow streams which ripple and murmur along with the mingled perfume of violets and roses. The imagination is invoked to give us pictures and illusions, when we stand in need rather of sub- stance and facts. Will the world never raise its voice to re- buke these literary caterers of the public taste, who have lightened our brains and purses long enough, and who should cease to deprave and despoil, if they cannot improve and in- struct ? Blessed be the man who shall write the last novel, and thrice blessed be the last man that shall read it ! MIND. 173 MIND. General Progress of the Mind. The general advancement of the mind corresponds to its particular and individual progress. We advance from the ' I complex to the simple ; from the abstruse to the plain. We emerge, in short, from darkness into light. The last re- j suit in the process of a long induction, or of a series of math- i' ematical propositions, is some positive and simple truth, not perceptible at first, but conclusive in the end. The grandest of all, is the most simple of all. The simplest ideas are sometimes the most incommunica- ble. Mankind are so prone to mystery, that they create it, and expect to find it where it does not exist. Moreover, sim- plicity is the first thing that is lost, and the last that is regained. The Mind its own Judge. Whensoever tiie mind can be brought to examine itself, and to form a just and impartial estimate of its powers, there is no better judge, and no critic more sagacious and severe. Many instances have been known where this judgment has been exercised with too inuch austerity. Complexion of Ideas. Some people's ideas incline to the white, but others are very black, being in a complete state of nigritude. Great and Little Minds. It is the great minds which are most susceptible of im- i^ provement. The lesser or feebler never acquire any consid- I erable amount of strength, and are as far removed from it as [ infancy is from manly vigor. Mind and Stomach. Mind is like the stomach, and takes Its food for profit, pleasure, use ; 174 MIND. Reflection all the virtue makes, And serves it for its gastric juice. Stroiglh and Flexibility of Mind. A strong mind should be adequate to the least as well as to the greatest undertakings. It should be like the power- ful but lithe proboscis of the elephant, as remarkable for force as for flexibility, and " capable of picking up a pin, or twisting off" the trunk of a tree." Great Minds. Great minds are as rare in the history of mankind as great monarchs, and the reason is the same. The greater tyrannize over the less, and when once subdued, hold them in subjection. Parva Mantua, SfC. This intellectual su- premacy is habitually exercised to the prejudice of those, who possess not the bravery nor the spirit to assert and main- tain their own individuality and independence, and hence become more familiar with submission than accustomed to authority. Seldom is a great or good mind seen that is not at the same time overbearing or monopolizing. Cultivation. The mind should seek profitable attainments upon which to bestow its strength, and to enlarge and improve itself. Let us not be like the things of vegetable growth — as flowers, which throw their perfumes upon the winds, or as trees, which cast their fruits upon the ground. Originality. Nothing is so beneficial and elevating to the mind, as the free and independent use of its faculties when its thoughts are as much the spontaneous results of fullness and vigor, as muscular exertion is of the voluntary efforts of corporeal power. " The unknown," says Hazlitt, " is the natural element of genius." Thither doth it instinctively resort, as if upon a distant and perilous voyage, and returns freighted with treasures and novelties which none could have gained MIND. 175 but they who have won them, yet, which every one may possess, who will receive them. Mental Pleasure and Reliance. He who can rely upon the resources of his mind — who can find therein the means of pleasure and peace, instruction and profit, realizes the greatest intellectual happiness of which he is capable, and may exclaim with exultation, " My mind to me my kingdom is." " My library is dukedom enough for me." For knowledge is the grace of this world. Mental Derangement. As nothing is more admirable than healthy displays of intellect, so nothing is more appalling than derangement of mind. The mind, as well as the body, is subject to deformi- ties and calamities, and it was of these calamities that Dr. Rush remarked with great sensibility, that " if he thought them beyond the reach of remedies, he would lay down his pen, and bedew tiie paper on which he was writing with his tears." Exercise of Mind and Feelings. If in the exercise of our minds, we rely exclusively or too largely upon our feelings, they must needs have great depth and scope, else we will soon come to an end. Our ideas will strike root in a kind of surface soil and crust which is soon exhausted, and where the clover grew the poverty grass will spring up, not in the loam but in the sand ; or our mental conceptions will resemble what was said of the stinted forms of Albert Durer — " the thwarted growth of starveling labor and dry sterility." Wants of the Mind. Oh that we could but feel the wants of the mind as promptly and imperiously as those of the body ! If we fast but a day, how earnest is our craving for food ! But the mind lies neglected for years, and we are insensible to its 176 MEMORY. cravings and necessities. For ignorance lulls us into repose ; it dulls our apprehensions, and quiets our alarms ; and by concealing the dangers we are exposed to, makes our ruin more certain and more deplorable. We have but to exert ourselves manfully to break through the shackles of this slavery and oppression. " Fling but a stone, the giant dies." " The fountains and rivers deny no man drink that comes. The fountain doth not say, thou shalt not drink, nor the apple, thou shalt not eat, nor the fair meadow, walk not in me."* MEMORY. The First Forgetful Man. As Adam had a poor memory, inasmuch as he was un- mindful of the divine commands, the Arabs have a proverb which says that, " The first forgetful person was the first of men." Defect of Memory in Ourselves and Others. Defects of memory in ourselves are embarrassing, and we often witness similar embarrassments in others. It is they only who treasure up knowledge who have any thing valua- ble to impart ; and continued application without acquisition, is as discouraging as abundant supplies of food without an appetite. The difficulty in both cases is the same, viz., the want of appropriating power. Correlative. Memory, united with judgment, perception and penetra- tion, constitutes a good mind, well adapted to the ordinary purposes of life. Add to these habits of persevering applica- tion and industry, and you have an example of a superior man ; but if you conjoin with them the elements of enthu- siasm and inspiration, you have an extraordinary man, or one who is gifted with genius. * Philostratus' Epistle to his Mistress, quoted by Burton. MIND AND BODY. I77 Dislribution and Prevalence, The fullness and prominency given to the eye of birds and animals by nature indicates the great prevalence and free distribution of memory and perception among them. These qualities, therefore, may be supposed highly essential to them, and they, no doubt, enter largely into the properties of instinct. Disuse of Memory. Habits of inattention and disuse of memory are as inju- rious to our mental faculties as sloth and corporeal indul- gence to bodily strength and vigor. Particular Organs. The eye, the ear, and the heart, have in general a better memory than the mind. MIND AND BODY. First Impressions. In general a well-dressed body takes precedence, for a while at least, of a well-stored mind. Animal Progress. The only department of human affairs in which the match- less skill and perseverance of man have been most fully car- ried out, and crowned with complete success, is that which refers to the regular supplies of nourishment and the grati- fication of the various physical wants of life. To these ends the earth, the air, the rivers, and the sea, have been ex- plored and laid under contribution. And mankind would not now be content to dwell again in the Garden of Eden, unless there were a market-house and grocery, a hotel and railroad hard by. 8* 178 MIND AND BODY. Hinderances. an epigram. But for feasting and dressing, Couching, caressing, Disputing and guessing ; Too much herding and messing, Backbiting, oppressing, Boring, distressing. The world would have many a blessing. Toothy Yedim — Suppose I had eaten it. We deny the mind unscrupulously almost every thing it requires, and keep it under such perfect subjection that we are not much molested by its importunities and demands ; but we supply the body liberally with all things. We do not like to girdle the beast, as St. Francis said when he put a sash around his waist. Every day the milk, the meat, the fat, the sweet. But without ?7iany self-denials, no one knows what he may not accomplish when all Sybaritism is renounced, and a great will bends strong necessity to its purposes, or when a prudent inclination leads to a virtuous resolution. A wealthy Mussulman at Constantinople designed giving, at much cost, a sumptuous entertainment to his friends. But all at once he said to himself, " Tootky Yedim" — '• Suppose I had eateii it," and spared the funds, and, adding to them from time to time, was enabled, at last, to build a grand mosque, which was named, from this circumstance, Tootky Yedim. Salutary Injluence of Mental Pursuits. Madden remarks, that salutary exercises of the mind have a tendency to invigorate the body, and, by their tran- quilizing influence, add to the duration of human life. And it is undeniable, that neither the sensual nor their off- spring are remarkable for longevity. They are mostly pre- maturely cut off. The mens sana in corpore sano is the true requirement of nature. If a man has any mind he will live the longer by cultivating it, and shorten his days by neulecting it. MIND AND BODY. 179 Relationship of Parts. The eyes and the ears have the same relation to the mind, that the hands and -the mouth have to the body. Body Predominating over the Mind. The history of individuals, as well as of nations, shows that when the body is more cared for than the mind — when nobler ends and aims are lost in debasing and degrading plea- sures and corruptions — from that moment is to be dated the time of declension and fall. The highest intellectual state is that of philosophy, the lowest sensual condition is that of can- nibalism. Mutual Analogy. The analogy between bodily, and mental or spiritual ills, is well sustained by Scarron, who says that no evil can be taken away but by another evil, whether it be in body or in soul. Our spiritual maladies are cured by repentance, watch- ings, fastings and imprisonments, as our bodily complaints are by medicines, incisions, cauteries and diets. The ignorance of the mind is removed by great, long, and painful study ; the want and poverty of the body by great care, watching, travail and sweatings. So that, both for the soul and for the body, labor and care are as proper to man as it is for a bird to fly, or for the flame to mount upward. Structural Arrangement. The bones are the substrata of the bodily structure. They are formed in reference to the muscles, the muscles in refer- ence to the organs, the organs in reference to the functions, the functions in reference to the life, and the life in reference to the ultimate purposes of the Deity. The inferior is created with a view to the superior ; nor can this order of things be inverted, since the former is sub- ject to the latter, and not the latter to the former. And there is an immediate connection sustained between the diflerent parts, yet all are planned and arranged upon the system of a srand whole. 180 MIND AND BODY. Contemplation and Action. Action is impetuous, thought calm. The excitement of active life calls into exercise those intellectual energies which require to be aroused from repose. But, as profit is the re- ward of toil, so meditation is the fruit of study, and secluded meditation contributes as much, in point of speculative wis- dom to active employment, as the latter does in practical experience to profitable knowledge ; the two being essential to, and sustaining one another. The most strenuous advo- cates for action must still find in meditation the ultimate sources of their highest pleasure and advantage ; and no occupation can confer any lasting benefits upon its followers that does not admit of some time for reflection. " C'est la vie sedentaire," says Madame de Stael, " qui perfectionne I'ordre social." And this fact is also worthy of observation, that it is the plain and quiet people who conduct the greatest and most important part of the world's work. Compared. If strength of mind were proportionate to strength of body, what additional oppression would there be in the world ! If feebleness of mind were graduated by feebleness of body, what additional suffering ! Occupation. The mind should keep the body busy. The goodly Bodies vs. the good Heads. The goodly bodies are in better conceit of themselves than the good heads. Long and short Bodies. Men, who possess most energy of character, it has always been remarked, are of a nervous, sinewy or compact form. The long-necked and long-legged bodies are comparatively of little use. The nerves which are strung upon them are so wiredrawn that they are easily relaxed, and rendered unfit to sustain any vigorous or prolonged efforts of strength. THE HEAD AND THE HEART. IgJ The muscles have too much extension, and too little volume, and the blood which is propelled over such an extended frame, becomes too much cooled in its ramifications to admit of great warmth of feeling, or vivid animation of thought. " The greatest virtue ever lies. In bodies of a middling size." Long-limbed and bodied people, therefore, are necessarily more or less cold-blooded and feeble, and have little warmth of heart or fire of brain. They have languid sentiments, no active passions ; melancholy of the moping kind, but not that which strikes deeply, and stirs up the inmost emotions of the soul. They are tolerably good walkers, but poor run- ners; not being able to " fetch up," and to hold out on a long stretch. They are capital waders in shallow water, indifferent swimmers in deep. Finally, they are admirably constructed for the Procrustean bed, and something might be lopped off from either extremity, greatly to their advantage, it would not matter much from which. THE HEAD AND THE HEART. Comparative Activity of the Brain aixd the Heart. If the brain were as active as the heart, we should live in a perpetual delirium of sensation and thought ; for thought is to the brain what the blood is to the heart. Fosition of the Head and Heart. Nature has placed the head at the summit of the body, where it presides, in order that the intellect may have the supreme mastery in all things. The heart, on the contrary — which is better protected than any other organ, except the brain — is assigned to the centre of the body, and by its superior influence holds domin- ion, metaphorically speaking, over the affections and desires. If nature has thought proper to take such extraordinary care of these important organs, she suggests to us the propriety of taking equal care of them ourselves. 182 THE HEAD AND THE HEART. As to Happiness. We may be happy either by the mind or the heart sepa- rately, but only supremely so by both together. Oh, how some minds toil to keep down the sorrows of the heart ! Defects of the Mind and Heart. Why can there not be some moral system of medicine in- vented to heal and remedy the defects of the mind and heart ? As if some kind of cups might not be applied to the head to extract stupidity ; or a species of blister placed over the heart to draw out its malice. Relative Influence. Speak not of the heart and the head ; the stomach is by many considered as the most important and useful organ of the whole body. They keep up both conditions, the intellect- ual inanition, and the epigastric bulimia. Intercommunication. Let us always maintain a free communication between the head and the heart. Let us ever preserve unobstructed that direct highway between the mind and the senses ; that great channel of intercourse which connects together the judg- ment and the conscience. The Mikadoes Head. In Japan, the dynamic theory of government is exemplified differently from what it is in any other part of the world. Spiritual as well as temporal supremacy is recognized, but they are kept entirely distinct. The ecclesiastical head of the empire is represented in the consecrated person of the Mika- do, who discharges his official responsibilities in a very im- partial, original, and compendious way. Every day, at noon, he ascends his august throne, and sitting erect, holds his head in a perfect equipoise. In this manner the affairs of the em- pire are maintained in equilibria, and wo be to that portion of the kingdom from which, even by the slightest inclination, the sacred caput is for a moment turned away. Confusion and THE HEAD AND THE HEART. 183 disorder instantly ensue ; but this good result is nevertheless effected, that, if at any time things go wrong, nobody thinks of blaming his own head for his misdeeds, but lays all the blame upon the Mikado's head. Extreme Agonies of the Mind and Heart. It is the great provocations, the severe reverses, and the extreme endurances of life, which produce the conjoint and double convulsions of the mind and heart — when the idols we have worsliiped have all been cast down and broken — when the brain has been fired, and the heart smitten with the fiercest torture ! The last scintillation of kindness is quench- ed — the last light of hope extinguished — and the last links of affection severed ! Here is the demoniac work of desolation, and the shatter- ed and blackened fragments of lost and ruined peace and tranquillity of mind ! Oh Life ! sweet gift of Heaven ! that thou shouldst be thus embittered, excruciated, and disconsolate ; and that a wretched and frantic soul should be driven to madness, des- peration, and despair ! Good. Minds and Pure Hearts. Wliat pleasure and profit is there in conversing with good minds, and holding communion witli pure hearts ! It is as if strength and beauty had met together, and truth and right- eousness had kissed each other. A Full Mind and a Full Heart. Knowledge is the object of tlie mind ; virtue, the object of the soul; pleasure, the object of the body. When the soul is oppressed, who does not know how good " an open confes- sion" is for it ? So when the mind teems-with thoughts, there is peace and joy in giving utterance lo them. Great authors have always found in intellectual exercises, the only suffi- cient relief for this mental weight and oppressiveness. After having written Werther, Goethe acknowledged the consola- tion of a free and disburthened mind. Rousseau, Gibbon, and Byron, and a host of others, experienced like sensations, and made similar confessions. 184 PRIDE. Without this strong pressure, and fullness of heart and mind, it is doubtful if there be any true inspiration. The love of distinction, witliout the ability to achieve it, may urge us on, but it will produce nothing but shadows and hollow things. Dare pondus idonea fumo. Or, there will be words without ideas, and ideas without consequences, and not those living and enduring forms of strength and beauty, which are the joint conceptions of the mind and soul of man, and which exhibit the creative power of the one, and the immortal essence of the other. PRIDE. Definition of Pride. Pride, that " never- failing vice of fools," that "mockery of greatness," has been thus defined : " It is a vice whose name is comprehended in a monosyllable, but in its nature, not circumscribed by a world." Reverses of Pride. The proud, who are uplifted, are constantly experiencing those convictions which tend to their humiliation, and the humble, who are kept down, are ever watching for those oc- casions when they shall exercise with impunity the preroga- tives of pride. Nothingness of Pride. Though great thy grandeur, man, may be, No pride of heart is meant for thee ; Let fools exult, presumption boast, Go turn to dust, and be a ghost. Pride and Poverty. Unhappy is it for us, if our condition in life procures us respect, but keeps us poor ; if it creates pride which must be often mortified, or expectations which are seldom or never realized ; thus keeping up that harassing and distressing con- PROMISES. 185 flict between what we wish, and perhaps deserve to be, but what in reality we never shall be. The Seven Sins. Pride and envy are the two first of the seven sins ; glut- tony and libidinousness the two last. The two first mention- ed are closely allied, and so are the latter. Pride and Ambition. "Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell, Aspiring to be angels, men rebel," who shall undertake to place limits to pride, when it madly confederates with ambition, and riots in the high career of overreaching influence and power ? " The meanest wretch, if Heaven would give him line, Would never stop till he were thought divine." The Quality of Pride. Pride constitutes nothing advantageous to the perfections of human character. There is a worldly pride which covets the respectabilities of life and lives by them, but the truly great are as far above it, as it is itself above what it affects to spurn and contemn, with that insolence which characterizes the eye of disdain and the lip of scorn. There is a higher cast of mind than this ; and they who possess it abandon to inflated men those supercilious airs, and that haughty demeanor, which are no signs of strength, but are convincing proofs of weakness and littleness of mind and character. PROMISES. Promise vs. Performance. Promises exaggerate unaccomplished deeds. At first, they appear large when magnified by the eye of hope ; after- wards, they dwindle into insignificance when their reality has been tested. The flowers of most plants and trees look 186 WIT AND HUMOR. pleasing and attractive, and are of a different color from the fruit. Promises arid Promising Things. Promising things are of less value even than promises. We assign to them an arbitrary importance without their possessing the sanction of any positive pledge, and the de- ception on our parts is voluntary. But we are deceived in promises, when our own sense of truth is superior to the in- tegrity of those who violate it, and the infractions may injure or provoke us, but they are certainly complimentary to the rectitude of our principles ; provided we always bear in mind, not to occasion any mistakes in the hopes and assurances which we ourselves give to others. When Faithfully Kept. What is more ennobling to the character of man, or more essential to the confidence he inspires, than for his wealth to be his word, and his faith his bond. ; when he scorns either to temporize or to deceive, or to be guilty of evasion and sub- terfuge, and would much prefer that his purse should suffer, rather than that his promise should be broken, and is always steadfast and true, consistent and reliable ! Rome beheld such integrity in her Fabricius and Cato ; and Greece in her Aristides and Epaminondas. But now we have a higher system of religion, albeit a lower standard of heroic virtue than that which prevailed in ancient times ; a better faith, but a worse practice. WIT AND HUMOR. " Holy Laugh.'' The world has always followed after some delusion suited to the times which generated and sustained it. Thus, an- ciently, auguries and oracles were believed in and consulted. When they were abolished, the occult mysteries of divination and astrology succeeded. Next came demonology and WIT AND HUMOR. 187 witchcraft, and lastly mesmerism, the abstrusest and most surprising of all. What will be the next revelation in the cycle of miraculous knowledge, remains to be seen. But perhaps it has already been discovered by an original genius in one of the western states, who, with his followers, in conducting their religious worship, indulge in what they denominate a " holy laugh." Efficacy of Wit and Hutnor. Mankind has done well to treasure up the recollections of wit and humor, to enliven the season of festive enjoyment, and to relieve the listless moments of depression and care. Few are the permanent records of individual sorrows and tears — our griefs for the most part are born with ourselves and die with ourselves. They are the companions of our cheer- less solitude, upon which no one intrudes — the melancholy and unwelcome visitors of our sad and desolate hours. They are soon banished from all memories but our own, and are destined to pass away and be forgotten ! " Frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens hfe." Wit and Age. Nearly all men as they grow older become more artful and cunning, and they persuade themselves also that they are wiser and more witty. What the imagination loses in sprightlincss, the memory supplies in anecdote. On Thomas Hawk. O, Thomas Hawk had many cares. Not cars, of those his share was none ; And iiap]))' had he said his prayers, Before he ever went in one. For leaping out when he was balked, His leg was broke — then cut — then corked. But Thomas in life's mazy whirl, (After his leg was cut and corked,) 188 WIT AND HUMOR. Did wed a very pretty girl, And this dear girl was Tommy Hawk'd. Wit a Rare Quality. Thousands of eminent and distinguished men exist, or have existed in the various departments of life, but the witty ones are few in number. True wit, like diamonds of the best water, is rare, but the false, like imitation diamonds, is valueless and common enough. The reason why true and genuine wit is seldom seen is this ; that many persons, though somewhat qualified for it, are deceived by its resemblances and substitutes, and eon- tent themselves with the grotesque or burlesque, with vile puns, and pointless witticisms or bi'oad buffoonery. " True wit is nature to advantage dress'd ; What oft was seen, but ne'er so well express'd." This definition of Pope's applies as much to poetry as to wit. But wit, as well as poetry, is a natural gift ; for true percep- tions of nature, united with quick, lively, and superior pow- ers of reflection and contrast, are necessary to trace those nice resemblances in the occurrences of life and the world, which, when well expressed and defined, strike us with elec- tric effect, and appear to us new, pleasing, and surprising ; altogether admirable for their originality, their point, and their application. Anecdote of St. Francis. In many of our pleasures ana amusements, we depend chiefly upon the brute creation ; especially upon those useful animals, and great adjuncts of man, the dog and the horse. Also in our associations with our fellow-beings, we often like those best, who possess some of the qualities of the brute crea- tion, and who fawn like dogs, or mimic like apes and mon- keys. Many wonderful stories are related of celebrated per- sonages, who enjoyed the privilege of holding communica- tions with birds and beasts. " St. Francis," says Helvetius, " passed eight days with a grasshopper, and sung a whole entire day with a nightingale. He also effected the reforma- tion of a mad wolf, saying to him, ' Brother Wolf, you should MEDICINE. 189 promise me that you will not hereafter be so ravenous as you have been ;' which the wolf assented to by bowing his head. St. Francis then said to him, ' Give me your pledge,' and at the same time held out his hand to receive it, and the wolf quietly lifting his right paw, put it in the hand of the saint." Distinctmi. AVit is the offspring of gayety, as humor is of melancholy. Wit is characteristic of the French, as humor is of the En- glish. The French abhor all sensations of sadness. One of their most conspicuous writers, regarding this repugnance as an inherent association of the mind, says, that " gayety leads us back to natural ideas." And there is no doubt but that sadness and gloom occasion greater distortions of real senti- ments, than vivacity and warmth. The pleas of distress are without bounds, but it is not so easy to counterfeit our pleasu- rable emotions, whilst imaginary calamities are the least supportable of all. But it is worthy of consideration, whether seriousness is not as much allied to virtue, as gayety is to fri- volity. And the best discipline of the mind, is that which is enforced by some moral principle, in opposition to the tenden- cy of our desires. Besides, if gayety leads the mind back to natural ideas, the moralist would demand, where does it lead the heart, especially when it becomes a national charac- teristic ? MEDICINE. Essential Parts. Geography and chronology are the eyes of history. So anatomy and chemistry are the right and left hand of the healing art. Disease and Decease. Between disease and decease, there is, orthographically or verbally, but little difference ; and the one is too often an easy introduction to the other. Diseases are the heralds, de- cease is the realization of eternity. 190 MEDICINE Health. Health has been called a third blessing of life ; a good conscience and a happy temper being the other two. Physicians and Politicians. Physicians and politicians resemble one another in this respect, that some defend the constitution, and others de- stroy it. Lawyers and Doctors. Physicians without practice, are quiet and harmless ; but lawyers without it, are restless, and doubly armed to do mis- chief. Systems and Quacks. Medicine is the study of nature in reference to the physi- cal and physiological, and even some of the moral conditions of man. Practically, it refers to the diseases of the body and their remedies. Relatively, it embraces many things and many sciences. It is a great field, where some reap that do not sow. If one should look through a telescope, and disco- ver a bright star, it is bright because it is in the heavens ; but how many great constellations are there, which he considers not, looking only at his little star ? Here must be no short-sighted delusions, no contracted views, and a small part must not be esteemed greater than all the parts together. The cornices and trimmings do not make the entire architecture of the house ; and if the house should be on fire, and one should stand sprinkling water from a mop, or a feather, that will not put out the fire, and the house may perish. Or, if a drum-major beats his drum — a snare drum — the noise may attract some of the idler sort ; but what is that racket compared to the music of a full orchestra of regular performers, where each one skillfully performs the part assigned to him, and contributes, with the rest, to produce one grand, concordant, and harmonious whole ! MEDICINE. igi Diseases and Remedies. Diseases are more simple than the remedies for them, and our conceptions of both are exaggerated. But every where remedies are more numerous than the maladies which they are intended to cure. Hoiv to be Sick. Dr. Nichols wrote a treatise upon what he called, Dc An- imCi Mcdicd. The office of a physician, he maintained, was to prescribe for bodily infirmities and disorders, and not for cares and vexations of the mind. He would not attend any one whose mind was not at ease, believing that mental and corporeal complaints should be kept distinct. It is said by Boswell, that when Goldsmith was dying. Dr. Turtin said to him, "Your pulse is much more disturbed than it should be, from the degree of fever which you have. Is your mind at ease ?" Goldsmith answered, that it was not. Every man must expect to be sick ; but wliatever his ailments may be, he must endure them pliilosophically, as querulousness only aggravates misfortunes, whilst resignation reconciles us to them if it does not remedy them. Love and Physic. Love is the sweetest, purest thing. That angels to our race can bring ; But physic is the vilest trade. That saints or demons ever made. Fashionahle Doctors. We do not always inquire who is the most skillful physi- cian, but who is the most fashionable. Let any kind of sickness become fashionable, and every body has it, and none but a fashionable doctor can cure it ; and if he can accomplish it by means of a fashionable remedy, no matter how absurd and preposterous it may be, so much the better. Nine day wonders are more common in medicine than in any thing else. 192 MEDICINE. Professional Rank. By the common consent of mankind, and the usages of nations, some rights and privileges are granted to medical men which are conceded to no others. They are entitled to admission into those private retreats of the sick and afflicted where all others are excluded ; and when upon the public highway, and intent upon urgent professional services, a phy- sician can take precedence of an emperor or a king. The nature of his duties gives him a pre-eminence which few are disposed to question or resist. Innovations. New creeds and systems of medicine arise from time to time, and flourish at least for a while : but diseases and their results continue pretty much the same as ever. New vocabularies are introduced, and old things are baptized by new names, although the things themselves remain un- changed. " Paracelsus," says Montaigne, " declared that he alone had discovered the true secrets of the healing art. He denounced those systems of medicine which were in vogue before his time, as false and fatal, and affirmed that his opinions only were safe and correct." And every inno- vator since, has asserted as much in his own behalf. Merit and Skill. Your skill and merit both are such, 'Tis rare you ever fail to please ; We all esteem your practice much, If tried upon our enemies ! An Exterminator. Physicians, though much skill they use, Will now and then a patient lose ; But you, more bold, with perfect ease Exterminate whole families ! Medical Advice. A man, not sick at all, but weak, (By abstinence from feeding) FOCIAL LIFE. I93 Phlebotomy. Called in a doctor in a freak, Who recommended bleeding. This feeble man, in such a mood, Had stronger been by eating — The doctor though was scenting blood, And bent upon depleting. The patient then enraged, they say. Dismissed him in a trice ; Although the doctor made him pay For medical advice. 'Tis hard such double ills to rue, To part with blood and treasure too ; Those grievous losses to endure, To gain the triumphs of a cure — But doctor, pray, to lower the tax, Do swap your lancet for an axe ! SOCIAL LIFE. Social Intrigues. No intrigue is too deep, no sophistry too cunning, no subtlety too refined, for those who pursue the supple and managing arts of life. The spirit of ingratiation is ever and every where at work — " Lives through all life, extends through all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent." Some place must be sought, some prize won, some portion gained, and every attention and civility lavished, to obtain success. Are we suspected ? No — the kindness was too civil and delicate, and the policy too skillfully -concealed. Are we defeated ? Disappointment is the lot of all, and many fish remain yet uncaught and lots of game unkilled. We spread our nets for others, and others likewise spread theirs for us ; and the whole world is full of fishers and hun- ters, with a countless number of traps and snares. 9 194 SOCIAL LIFE. Visits — an Epigram. What smiles and welcomes would I give Some friends to see each hour I live ! And yet, what treasures would I pay, If some would stay for j^ears away ! And better still would be the case, If they should never show their face. Public Visits. Of public characters, the postmaster receives the most calls during the day ; and the receiver of public moneys, the fewest. Visits Ill-timed. We may flatter ourselves that our visits are well-timed, but nevertheless they may be indifferently received. When Good- Will goes gadding, he must not be surprised if Til- Will sometimes meets him on the way. And Hope very often opens the door, but Disappointment shuts it. Tariff" of Visiting. Some will undertake to prescribe to you rules for visiting ; will dictate the laws of privilege and etiquette ; will form for you in short, a regular taritF of ad valorem duties — an arbitrary system of taxation without consent. The feeble and the suppliant only will acquiesce in these restrictions ; whilst the firm and independent will demand those conditions that are fair and equal ; or which imply a simple, just, can- did and sincere interchange of thoughts, feelings, civilities and affections, " balancing claim with claim, and right with right," or according to the national motto, " Ask nothing but what is right ; submit to nothing that is wrong." Compliments. If flattery were regarded in its true light, as a tribute paid to vanity by cunning and deception, and as much a reproach to the one who pays, as to the one who receives it, SOCIAL LIFE. 195 society would be less contaminated by the flippant charac- ters who frequent it only to disparage it, and more honored by those whose presence would add to its dignity and intelli- gence. " Learn to contemn false praise betimes, For flattery is the nurse of crimes." Neglect. Society assumes a right, and not always without cause, to inflict a punishment, which is more dreaded ti)an the bulls of popes, the mandates of kings, or the ukases of autocrats ; and that punishment is the ban of its silence, its indifl"erence, and disregard. With many persons direct reproaches would be more supportable than the cold obscurity of neglect, when no eye notices, no voice welcomes, and no smile gladdens us into social being and joy. It is a desolate and miserable isolation, which is alike dreaded by old and young — the Nicban of life — the comfortless, cheerless, unpittied and freezing solitude of the heart. Communism. Formerly it was the Art of Living, now we must live scientifically. We must study first principles and final con- sequences. Distribution and equality are advised. Nothing must have something for its share. Enough must not have too much. O, fellow Arcadians ! brother Jews ! brother Spartans! fraternizing Quakers and speculators ! kind-hearted Phalansterians ! all cattle shall graze alike in the Great Social Meadow. No wolves, lions, or fo.xes, shall any longer be harbored in the new-modeled dens of society. Horns and hoofs, tusks and talons, shall be voted innocent and harmless. None shall be high or low. There shall be neither strength nor weakness, defence nor offence, but harmony and co-opera- tion, peace and prog shall be apportioned to all alike. Conservatism. The social state is progressive. It is subject to the cor- uscations of new lights, occasional agitatiops, and many startling demonstrations. But society is, in principle and at heart, conservative ; and from convulsions, wild theories, and 196 SOCIAL LIFE. past experiences, gathers up whatever is useful and true, and placing it upon the strong basis of common sense, preserves it for the general good and welfare of all. The First and the Last Visit. Let any one recall to mind what his experience has taught him in his social intercourse with the world. He has been neither a hermit, nor a misanthrope, but has mingled freely and generously with those around him, and bestowed upon inane people the time which might have been more wisely employed upon himself. Let him reflect upon all that has occurred, and say how far he has profited by it ? Or, tell us the difference between the sensations created by the first and the last visit, when he expected much, although he received but little, and ultimately renounced every thing, and cast aside a long cherished friendship — an old and cultivated ac- quaintance — like a thread-bare garment, or a worn out shoe, as something worthless, and no longer deserving of attention and regard. We run hither and thither, up and down, seeking novelty and change — sympathy and pastime — communion and love — and engage in those social recreations which we do not pre- tend to scrutinize closely, and which hardly come within the range of fixed and positive things, but are best judged by their results. If we could subject our daily and familiar experience to an impartial examination, the profoundest secrets and myste- ries of life might be revealed to us thereby. For it presents a spacious arena — a vast theatre — where there are many actors and many actions which might greatly enlighten us, when we refer to the Genesis, the Exodus, and the Anabasis, of social life ; or to the reception and repetition of civilities, and the final disijust and abandonment of them altogether ! The first and the last visit ! when we warmly met, and as coldly parted ! When in the beginning, the heart palpitated with joy J but in the end only ached with pain ! ®I)C HaiubDU)» LOVE. BEAUTY. RED HAIR. MATRIMONY. WOMEN. FASHION. PLEASURE. HAPPINESS. FOPS AND FOOLS. THE SEXES. PEACE, JOY, CONTENTMENT. FRIENDSHIP. FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE. YOUTH. GIRLISH AND BOYISH DAYS. APPEARANCES. CITY AND COUNTRY. MANNERS, COMPLIMENTS. DESIRES. MUSIC. IMAGINATION AND HOPH. PASSIONS. ./ hnidsaipr ivuU' salutis rnv .\iifhl (H'.siiadv rahs mid inviuildi/i.s hriqlil . And Hnivefus- oraxure I hduftd. And doiids of sdviT (Uid cfAjold . Dirr. ^p> THE RAINBOW LOVE. Cravings of Love. Love is an actual need, — an urgent requirement of the heart. The needle ever turneth to the star. There is a " strong necessity " of loving, felt by every human being who is properly constituted, and who entertains an appre- hension of loneliness and wretchedness, and an anticipation of happiness and content. It is the pure, celestial manna, the bright and ever-gushing fountain of waters, even the am- brosia and nectar of Elysium itself. It invigorates, revives, sustains, and perpetuates. Without it, life is unfinished, and hope is without aim ; nature is defective, and man miserable ; nor does he come to comprehend the end and glory of exist- ence, until he has experienced the fullness and beauty of an entire and soul-satislying love, which actualizes all indefinite cravings and expectations ; and imparts a foretaste of the rich and precious fruits of his future destiny. Its Depth. Madame de Stael remarked, that the greater part of man- kind are better judges of the works of Newton than of the real passion of love, in all its depths, and in its fullest import — meaning thereby, that this passion is more profound than the mysteries of science. 200 LOVE. lis Blissful Moments. There is a rapture in pure, elevated, and refined love, unequaled by any other emotion. It seeks but one object, which is dear to the memory, a treasure to the eyes, and a heaven to the heart. We realize it, when the soul is ab- sorbed in the very being and essence of another — when one passion engrosses all thought — all sense — all feeling — all de- sire — and all hope. When without the aid of language, we comprehend what language itself is powerless to express — the sympathies — the delights — the aspirations of unsullied, devoted, and reciprocal attachment — when we pay, " Love for love, and homages to beauty." " Sweet love, that dost apparel thee in smiles !" Beauty and Love. The most beautiful may be the most admired and ca- ressed, but they are not always the most esteemed and loved. We discover great beauty in those who are not beautiful, if they possess genuine truthfulness, simplicity, and sin- cerity. No deformity is present where vanity and affecta- tion are absent ; and we are unconscious of the want of charms in those, who have the power of fascinating us by something more real and permanent than external attrac- tions and transitory shows. Love and Faith. In business, credit ; in labor, patience ; in knowledge, zeal ; in suffering, hope ; and in love, faith. Late Love. Pythagoras taught that love, like many other things, was best acquired late. Still, it should not be too late ; for then it is loveage, or love in age — an indifferent plant, plain and uninviting in its appearance. Independence in Love. They who are independent in love, are generally so in every thing else. If weak in this respect, they are generally weak in other respects. LOVE. 201 Tricks and Snares in Love. If there be any system at all in the love-philosophy of the fair sex, it would hackle the wits of Aristotle and task his skill to unravel and comprehend it. There must be some impenetrable springs of action, some hidden and mys- terious influences, which adapt them to novel and unac- countable impressions, which they themselves cannot explain, nor any body else ; and which render them at one time ex- tremely variable and uncertain, and at another completely defeat all the sober and rational estimates and deductions of reason. In this respect they may be likened, at least many of them, to the strangest kinds of puzzles, to perplex our un- suspecting calculations and anticipations ; and to convince us, that among the many dubious things of this world, the aflfections of the heart hold a most conspicuous and unques- tionable rank. Yet, after all these anomalies and contradic- tions, these fluctuations and contrarieties arc over, woman soon becomes herself again, — the temporary disguise is thrown ofl", the natural and real character is assumed, and sweet as a cherub, meek as a saint, and innocent as a dove, " something between a flower and an angel," she stands, like Goldsmith's Angelina, all radiant with smiles and blushes, " A maid confessed in all her charms." Beautiful Analogy. Love is the most attractive charm of life, and is like the honied essence of the flower, which imparts to it all its real virtue and excellence — which imbues the tender gerin with its sweetness while living, and is the very property which, after death and decay, insures its future existence. Blindness of Love. The aspect of mere personal beauty, when it inspires no internal emotion, produces no other efl!ect than if we gazed on a lovely picture. Let this emotion be felt, and he who is conscious of it forthwith discovers a thousand ideal charms, and is bewildered by the dazzling attractions with which he invests the fascinating object of his adoration and desires. 9* 202 LOVE. Some power sways you that I feel not, I look, I gaze, and I admire ; I am quite cool, though you are hot, Or warm, whilst you are all on fire — I fear, at last, you too will cool, And learn that you have been a fool. Sentiments of Love. Explain, ye sovereign Powers above. Why men of sense lack wit in love. Why slaves by choice, when they are free, Why blind, when eyes have need to see ; Why court the snares that prudence dreads, And use their hearts more than their heads ; Misled by Love's persuasive power, The sad Amphitryons of an hour — Or why are sighs and whimples meant, For the green age of sentiment. That age when we entreat, adore. Till two are one and several more ? Three Stages. Love has been divided into three stages ; the sympathetic, the romantic, and the passionate. It is in the two first that we indulge in the exhilarating and delightful visions of anti- cipated bliss and rapture, overcoloring the attractive object of our desires, and surrendering ourselves to the most en- trancing delusions, when Love " laughs at locksmiths," and dreams of " balconies and bowers." In the third period, our reason, which previously had been powerfully assailed, is ready to surrender entirely, being effectually bewildered by the imagination, and vanquished by the force of impatience and desire. But the last stage of all is that of collapse, in which the love-bubble explodes, scatter- ing the fragments in every direction, never, perhaps, to be reunited again ; and light as they may seem, they are strong enough to do serious damage to ourselves and others. The danger, however, can be avoided by the exercise of those qualities of judgment, prudence, and skill, which are effectual in preventing other analogous explosions where too much steam has been put on. LOVE. 203 Blighted Affections. Blighted affections produce the same effects as abused passions ; or passions suppressed, as passions in excess. To a Young Lady Too gentle thou ambition yet to feel, Too good to hate, too artless to conceal ; Long may it be, ere troubled thoughts molest The radiant calmness of thy placid breast! In thee, how many matchless charms combine ! Would my life's flower bloomed half so fair as thine ! Love and Flattery. Men admire, respect, adore, but never flatter in love. That is reserved for the benefit of those for whom they have but little feeling and regard, and with whom they can afford to make free, whose esteem is not felt and valued, and whose love is neither appreciated nor desired. Amhition and Love. The great passions of ambition and love, may well be considered as finding their analogous destinies amidst rocks and waves. The enamored youth who sank in the abyss, whilst swimming for the torch-light held by his mistress in the Sestian tower, and the great hero of modern times, im- mured on the rock of St. Helena, both verify the illustration, and strengthen and complete the allegory. To a Coquette. " Henceforth I will do as they, And love a new love every day." Had I been false as I was true, Dissembling as sincere ; Or had I dared to swerve like you, To smile — to seem — appear — On equal terms we might have met, And felt disdain without recret. 204 LOVE. Let other eyes those charms behold, Let others strive to win ; The truth at last let them unfold, And blush to look within — To see what treachery governs her, A painted rose — a sepulchre ! Revulsions. Instances occur in the affections when a kind smile or a gracious acknowledgment would attach us for ever, and bind us indissolubly to the objects of our regard, but they come not, though in their place we receive the slight and the dis- dain which produce those revulsions of feeling which change us entirely. What a look, a glance, a whisper even, might have accomplished before, entreaties, smiles, and promises fail to effect now ; and it is far easier to devote ourselves to new associations than to revive the old. And this arises not from unskillful management of the affections so much as from insincere dealing with them, which destroys confidence, and annihilates hope. Extremes. Extremes meet in love. Warmth and coldness, gentle- ness and severity, tenderness and cruelty, are associated together with this passion. The strong submit to the weak, for in these affairs weakness is often more powerful than strength. It is a battle-field where the soldiers are swains, and where the swords and cimiters are Cupid's darts and daggers. Sighs are as destructive as cannon balls ; and the cooing turtles of Venus are more terrible than the neighing steeds of Mars. It is a contest in which the women are umpires and vic- tors, dispensing thorns and flowers, frowns and smiles, cuffs and kisses, at their pleasure. Many champions are more surely defeated the harder they fight ; and some who risk nothing are more certain to obtain every thing. Snares and stratagems are in universal use. We must consent to be shot down and slain, or feign it, before we can be said to be victorious ; and they who meet with success must make up their minds to be led captive in chains, and to be bound and sacrificed upon an altar. LOVE. 205 The World's Love. The world's cold love is full of guile, Its trust is but a painful sigh ; 'Tis treachery masked with candor's smile, And kin without a kindred tie. Scorn, envy, hate, contention, pride. Baleful and dire when not withstood ; Wheh they by nature most allied. Are only enemies by blood. Love and Crime — Analogy of the Shark and Pilot Fish. It is well known that the shark, the most remorseless monster of the deep, is usually found to be attended by a harmless and playful little guide and companion, familiarly known by the name of the Pilot Fish. The real office which it performs is not known ; but it seems to be regarded with tenderness and attachment by a creature addicted to ferocity and bloodshed, and is admitted into an intimacy of kindness and love, while all others are repelled by fear and awe. In the whole compass of nature no analogy more striking and beautiful than this can be adduced to illustrate the strong and mysterious attraction which is sometimes found to exist be- tween love and crime. Flow many sons of rapine and vio- lence are there in the world, who roam over the sea, or prowl upon the land — who still have some dear and tender being clinging to the heart, and watching over them with the most invincible and devoted endearment and fidelity! And yet, how often do these hardened reprobates participate in no other sympathy and love except this, but are detested and proscribed by the whole world besides, and are finally dragged forth like the merciless shark, to be condemned and slain, whilst the defenceless and innocent object of affection is left unprotected, uncared for, and unthought of beiiind ! Devoted Love. There is a deep-seated feeling in the heart which cannot be destroyed or subdued. It triumphs over reason, resists all persuasion, and scorns every dictate of philosophy. Like a tree or a plant, we may cut it down at niglit ; but, ere morn- 206 LOVE. ing, it has sprouted up again in renewed freshness and beauty ; its leaves and branches are re-expanded to the air, loaded with blossoms and fruit — and the birds of summer are singing in their midst. We nurture it and guard it, until, once more, leaf after leaf is torn away, and the bleak winds of winter mourn and sigh over its verdureless decay. Then, when all is nakedness and ruin, desolation and despair, the living root of that deathless tree is cherished still in the hidden recesses of the soul, and there will it grow, and thrive, and bloom again, for ever the ornament, the solace, and the beauty of life. Do you ask what this mystery is ? It is the irradicable, the imperishable affection for the devoted object of our love ! Reciprocal Love. When time brings us to the resting-places of life — and we all expect them, and in some measure attain them — when we pause to consider its ways and to study its import, we then look back over the waste ground which we have left behind us. Is a bright spot to be found there ? It is where the star of love has shed its beams. Is there a plant, a flower, or any green thing visible ? It is where the smiles and tears of affection have been spent — where some fond eye met our own — some endearing heart was clasped in ours ! Take these away, and what joy has memory in retrospection, or what delight has hope in the future prospect ? When Paris was wounded, CEnone alone could heal his bleeding wounds. Love has power to heal. We love to love, we live to love ; it is the heart's food and nourishment, and the soul's highest happiness and bliss. Some other being must be blended with our own, else our existence is objectless, our natures unavail- ing ; and that is wanting which wealth, and honor, and pomp, and pride, and glory, all together, can never supply. No human power or ingenuity can invent or suggest any lasting means of satisfaction without this elixir of life, which sweet- ens, sustains, and perpetuates it. The bosom which does not feel it is cold ; the mind which does not conceive it is dull ; the philosophy which rejects it is false ; and the only true religion in the world, has pure, reciprocal, and undying love for its basis. BEAUTY. 207 BEAUTY. lis Destiny — Its Inspiration. II fend souffrir poui- Hre lelle. It is the destiny of beauty to suffer and to make suffer, — " The sweets of love are washed with tears." The idealit)'^ of beauty with woman produces the same lofty conceptions as genius with man ; it is full of inspiration and aspiration, glowing thoughts and fancies, and hopes of happi- ness too exalted and sublimated to be reached, — too ethereal and indefinite to be realized. " I must be wonne that cannot winne, Yet lost were I not wonn ; For beauty hath created bin, T' undo, or be undone." " A bitter fate Is his who broods o'er beauty. Yet in vain Unto the common scenes and moods of life Man turns, and would be worldly. In his heart Deeply implanted is the thirst divine, That pants for heavenly fountains, — waters pure, And bland, and bright, that fill the swelling soul With thoughts sublime." Beauty glides before us like an entrancing vision of bliss. The disembodied conception already had a dwelling-place in the unveiled recesses of the soul, but here it comes forth in a tangible, glowing, and palpable shape, the perfection of a thought, and the glory of a dre'&m. How sweet is the rapture, how ineffable the delight \ " The grace of motion and of look, the smooth And swimming majesty of step and tread, The symmetry of form and feature, set The soul afloat, even like delicious airs Of flute or harp." Comparative. Grace, says La Fontaine, is more estimable than beauty. The most beautiful and accomplished women are indebted to the joint influences of nature and art, for the perfection and embellishment of their charms and graces. Celebrity distin- 208 BEAUTY. guishos great beauty, without conferrinij upon it any real or permanent benefits ; for Tliucydides wisely remarked, that those beauties are most to be esteemed, who are talked of least. It was a singular observation of a distinguished mo- dern philosopher, that two ordinary beauties neutralize our admiration, but that two great beauties increase it. It is the estimate of comparison, although double stars and double rainbows, in a perfect state, are not to be seen every day. But doth not one beauty sometimes have the effect of height- ening another beauty ? " Each gives to each a double charm, As pearls upon an Ethiop's arm." Beauties of Nature and of the Mind. O Beauty, thou art the type and emblem of the infinite and supreme good ! Whithersoever we turn, thy numberless and matchless forms rise up before us, to charm, to delight, to elevate, and to refine. There is beauty in the stars, in the clouds, in the earth, in the trees, in the flowers, in the moun- tains, and in the streams ; and beauty in the hard, firm rocks, in the many-colored gems, the sardel, the jasper, the onyx, the chrysoprase, and the chrysolite. Beautiful are the countless works of nature, more beautiful and lovely still the infinite graces of the mind, and the perfections of the soul ! Grant us but these, let others share " The Raphael grace, the Guido air." Dangers of Beauty. What's hid within, without is barred, The soft is laid above the hard ; And 'tis indeed a painful truth. So near the lip is placed the tooth, — If what I know, is known aright, The lips may smile, the tooth may bite. Subordinate Beauty. Subordinate beauty exists by the arrangement of parts and colors without expression. It is abundantly seen in in- ferior things, as in insects and reptiles, which convey the BEAUTY. 209 general impressions of frailty and danger ; but in regard to flowers, a sense of delicacy, sweetness, and grace. Beauty and Duty. Great beauty is almost too transcendent for the homely affairs of life. It seems to be above that condition of things to which it must conform itself and be allied ; it is the tangi- ble and the evanescent united, or, factual et la spirituelle combined together. A spotless camelia in a gilded cup ; or better still defined by the strange association of ideas in the words of an old poet : " A ladye fayre of hew and hide." Phidias represented the Venus at Elis treading on a tortoise; a symbol of silence, patient industry, and diligent housekeep- Beauty and Honor. The wreath and the flower harmonize together. Beauty attracts admiration, as honor applause ; but the nod of dis- tinction is by many esteemed more estimable, than the smiles of loveliness itself. Beauty and Goodness. Let wasting time, from day to day, Dissolve those fleeting charms away : Each after each, the rose leaves fall, A kind, sweet smile restores them all. Union of Beauty and Talents. While the endowment of talents is a proud distinction, and the possession of beauty an enviable advantage, yet both have their countervailing offsets. Talent is environed with many perils, and beauty with many weaknesses. Talent is restless and ambitious; beauty is coquetish and vain. But when both are united together in a single individual, they often prove as fatal as the girdle of Pallas, or the tunic of Nessus. Alcibiades is an example of it among the Greeks, Cleopatra among the Egyptians. How admirable, how seductive and 210 BEAUTY. enticing their personal fascinations, and their distinguished talents ! What restlessness ! what intrigues ! what capri- cious and licentious desires ! And, finally, what incalculable misery and wretchedness ! The choicest and highest gifts converted into the worst and most deplorable uses ! So much fflory and brightness reserved for such lamentable purposes and ends ! Death in exile and by assassination for the Greek, — in shame, and by the aspic's poison for the Egyp- tian ! So talents and beauty combined, with men, and more especially with women, always inflame hearts, disorder heads, and on some occasions put whole kingdoms in commotion. Pour meriter son caur, pour plaire a ses beaux yeux, J'aifait la guerre aux rois,je V aurais faite aux dieux. To win thy love, the bliss it brings, A glance from those bright eyes, I've dared the power of earthly kings, Would dare tiiat of the skies. Perversion of Talent and Beauty. No power has ever yet been intrusted to man, without a liability to abuse. What has been more misdirected than beautv, or what more perverted tlian talent ? Yet how great are tlieir triumphs, and how envied their possession ! They may be said to govern the world, not by laws, but by in- fluence ; not by written codes and compacts, but by conces- sions and conquest. " Ye fair, be mindful of the mighty trust ! Alas ! 'tis haid for beauty to be just," — and harder still for talent to be just to itself, and just to others. The above poetical sentiment, is a juvenile one of Dr. Johnson's, when he only dreamed of the charms of beauty, and long before he was married to the burly Bir- mingham widow (hard featured as the hardware of her native town), whom he appears to have loved by legerdemain, and wedded under some learned delusion. Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, records an in- stance of a distinguished beauty, who playfully caressed a ferocious tyrant, and wreathed her fingers through the tresses of his beard, while his courtiers trembled in his presence, and the slightest liberties from others, were taken only at the peril of their lives. RED HAIR. 211 RED HAIR. Prejudices againsl it. The prejudices against red liair liave, it is true, some foundation, but they are much exafjgerated. History has re- corded not a few ominous and remarkable instances of its ornamenting some individuals who have identified unfavorable associations with it, and these examples are quoted to excess. Cain, the vvorst man in the Old Testament ; Judas Iscariot, the worst in the New ; Nero, the most wicked of Roman em- perors ; Henry VIII, the most abominable of English kings, (the wife-killing " caliph " of England) ; Cato, the austere censor, and Sylla, the sanguinary dictator, and many others were so distinguished. Nevertheless, this particular hue of hair often distinguishes those whose manners are as peculiarly bland and soft, as their complexions are chaste and foir; who possess delicacy of sentiment, and refinement of feeling ; and who are generally proud, ambitious, aspiring, talented and high-minded. There are bad people of every color of hair, and not more, perhaps, comparatively, of the red than of other colors. But if we regard the inferior objects of creation, the red- headed ones in the world are almost always vain, cunning, fierce, treacherous, or destructive, the worst of their kind, and of all kinds. The restless and injurious woodpecker has his head tufted with a red topknot. Many of the ornate, vain, and clamorous tropical birds are similarly embellished. Lions, wolves, and most foxes are tawny. And besides this, it is a little white worm with a red head which destroys all the peach-trees. Ancestry — The Nose. The Chinese entertain the notion, but on what it is found- ed it is impossible to say, that tiie nose is the part of a person which is first formed in the ovum. Adopting this idea, they call the first ancestor of a fiimily the nose ances- tor, and the most distant grandson is denominated the ear- grandson. " But avoid foolish questions and genealogies." 212 MATRIMONY Hair and Character. Bald-headed men are generally smooth, polite, insinua- ting, seductive, reverential and hypocritical, which arises from the influence of the organ of veneration and the perver- sion of it. On the contrary, the full hairy-headed men are mostly plain, bold, blunt, obstinate, candid, off-handed, violent, desperate and unmanageable. Among the Egyptians. The ancient Egypiians formed their opinion of persons by the color of their hair, and in time of war, put to death all the red-haired men who fell into their hands. In most, if not in all countries, it is rare to see a red-headed preacher of the gospel. MATRIMONY. Before and After. The time which is lost in wooing is often afterwards re- claimed when we are wed. For courtship is a pastime, but matrimony is a serious affair. Man more Dignifed in Matrimony than in Love. Man is seldom dignified in love, but he is often so in mat- rimony. For then the weakness of the sentimental passion is absorbed in the obligations of the conjugal state. Non bend convenient nee in una sede morantur, Majestas et amor. A Roman Suitor. A Romon suitor, who went to woo his mistress, took with him a bar of iron and a bag of gold. The treasure he threw at her feet, and the stubborn metal he bent in her presence. Troubles and Molestations. An ancient philosopher, speculating upon the sublimated nature of matrimony, comes to this erudite conclusion, " That MATRIMONY. 213 marriage hinderef.h and averlelh those ieautiful and great eleva- tions of the soul, the contemplation of things high, celestial, and divine, which is incompatible with the troubles and molestations of domestical affairs. The Institution of Matrimony. The first institution which man received from his Creator was that of the Sabhath. The second that of marriage. The first thought of man should be of heaven ; the second of earth ; homage to the Creator before a love of the creature ; a care for his soul, and then for his heart. Floral Emblem. Among the floral emblems assignable to matrimony, no one is more appropriate than that of the wild box-vine. As a vine, it lias the property of clinging, embracing, or entwining around, like the true affections of the heart. It creeps indeed upon the ground, but it remains fresh and green, although the snows fall, and the winds be blighting and cold. It is humble, for it does not exalt itself on high, and it bears two fragrant flowers, modest and sweet, not only upon " one stem," but upon one cup or calix, where they bloom together in private, retired, and sheltered places ; and unite at last to form a double berry of a lively red color, and shaped like two hearts closely knit and compacted together. Marriage and Matrimony. Marriage is the rite, the ceremony; Matrimony, the state, the condition, of wedded life. The first is the frame- work of the building ; the second, the edifice itself. The ceremonies of marriage differ in different places, but the in- stitution of matrimony is the same every where, and is usuafly accompanied by the same interests, if not by the same sanctions. A maniac lawyer, however, in a lunatic asylum, once gave a different account of marriage and matrimony. Hav- ing been requested to point out the distinction between them, he observed, " That marriage is when people marry for love ; matrimony is when they marry for money." 214 MATRIMONY Day and Night Marriages. Ordinary marriages are mostly celebrated at night, but great and distinguished ones by day. With uncivilized peo- ple, as for instance, the American Indian tribes, the ceremo- nial of day marriages prevails, as it likewise does in the other extreme of society, amidst the most polished and refined class- es. Religion, custom, motives of economy or ostentation, and many other considerations suggest and regulate these observ- ances, but there appears to be this decided advantage in favor of day marriages ; that they who are wedded by broad day- light, have certainly a better chance of seeing what they are about. Remarhahh Family Virtues. There are some families which possess most remarkable qualities of grace and virtue. As soon as any lucky individ- uals become matrimonially connected with them, no matter how humble, obscure, and unnoticed they were before, they instantly become great, distinguished, and notable characters. They are dipped in the very fountain of grandeur and glory — washed of every stain of plebeianism and uncleanness — and if they were only Christopher Slys and Jeremy Diddlers formerly, they are certainly transfigured now into nothing short of My Lord Dukes, and Sir Charles Grandisons. Neio Zealand Marriages. Brown, in his account of the New Zealanders, says, that robbery is practiced among them as a punishment for offences, and is submitted to by the offenders without resistance. He also says, that it is a common practice to rob a new-married couple immediately after the nuptials, and not unfrequently to compliment them with a good beating in the bargain. Diving Belles. In the letters from the Egean, by Emerson, it is stated, that in those islands, the young maidens are most expert divers, and take many pearls in that way ; and these consti- tute their dowry of marriage. Indeed, they do not pretend MATRIMONY. 215 to marry until they have first sr-ciired the pearls. They are what may be called diving bf lies, or pearls of great price. Very difierent are they from the East Indian belles, of whom a writer says, " they have no ideas whatever, except those of dress and making love." Romantic Marriages. Marriages may bo celebrated in bowers as fair as those of Eden, but they must in the end be conducted and put to proof in the workshops of the world. There romantic minds are speedily sobered down, the transparent gloss of pretension soon wears off, and musical iiands may perhaps find some substantial exercise by dipping occasionally into the bread- pan or the wash-tub; or by engaging in other plain household offices which require to be dispatched, not by angels, but by- women, " With homely sympathy, that heeds The common life our nature breeds." How horrible, and how much abhorred in advance ! Therefore, " This is the golden age, all worship gold." " Hang the poor lover and his pedigree, The thriving merchant or fat judge for me." Or rather, as Waller's Zelinda says, " None hit a prince for me," a delusion that leads a great many astray. Cha7ices. It is essential to the happiness of wedded life, that there should be nothing wrong in either party, but the reverse is apt to be the case, so that the chances of matrimonial happi- ness or unhappiness will depend upon the quality and degree of the right or wrong in both parties. It is said, in the East, when a maiden is to be espoused, that " the mother prefers a rich man ; the father, a learned man ; the relations, a man of high birth ; but the bride gives the preference to a handsome mi\n." These are the prizes in the matrimonial lottery, wealth, learning, birth, beauty. Few obtain all, the majority secure a part only of what they are in auest of; but yet there are many who vainly flat- 216 MATRIMONY. ter themselves with what tliey have won, when in reality they have drawn nothing but sheer blanks in the great lot- tery — negative and lackadaisacal things, not useful, not rich, not accomplished, and not wise — companionless com- panions, and helpless helpmates. As to Families. Matrimony seems to have been invented to build up some families, and to pull down others. Some fortunate in- dividuals should have candor enough to acknowledge that they owe every thing to it — their rank and station, home and equipage, and even their dinners and wine, and their cosy and glorious afternoons ; whilst tlie luckless parties freely confess that by means of it, they have lost every thing, these same comforts and luxuries ; and besides, what is of more value, have furthermore forfeited their peace and happiness, with the sacrifice of better prizes and chances that might have offered. Matrimony and Misery. All weddings perhaps begin alike; but all do not end as they begin, in love. For wedlock is an Elysian fount, or lake of Como, to some ; but a Black Sea, or a Maelstrom of Norway, to others. The curtain of domestic privacy conceals many painful and unhappy scenes from view, where to the uninitiated "all discord " may be " harmony not understood ;" where pi-ide shrinks from exposure which procures less sympathy than mortification, while the heart pines in secret and crushing disappointment, in wasting and painful regrets, or in utter loneliness and despair. With all this suppressed and hidden misery and suffer- ing, matrimony may still outwardly appear specious and plausible ; but may nevertheless be like the forests of san- dal wood in the East, which are fragrant with perfume, and inviting to the senses, but when explored, are found to be full of noxious reptiles and venomous serpents. 2'he Unmarried. If the greatest happiness, and perhaps the only real and genuine kind, is to be found in the blessings of chaste and MATRIMONY. 217 devoted love, yet matrimony, it must be acknowledged, is chargeable v/itli numberless solicitudes and responsibilities; and if it often causes the heart to exult in joy, it as frequently makes it throb with pain. If it does not fall to our lot to participate in the delights and pleasures of a happy and reciprocal union of hearts ; if destiny has restricted our sympathies and thwarted our de- sires, and consigned us, perhaps unwillingly, to solitude and celibacy ; if we are only neutral spectators of those scenes wherein great artifice and deception, unfairness and insin- cerity are constantly practised, but plain and candid dealing is seldom found, and where hearts are won but hap])iness is lost, — we should remember that there is great satisfaction and many positive advantages, in being alone ; and that the command of time and the freedom from many cares, opens the way to new and beneficial sources of pastime and use- fulness, sufficient to reconcile us to our condition ; and to render it as enviable as that of those who have more encum- brances but less ease, and who rebuke us because we are not as they ; or, because engrossed with their individual concerns, tiiey do not comprehend and appreciate those which interest us, as if the world were made for matrimony alone and nothing else ; or, as if we did not sometimes wince under this divided excellence of life wiiich they deride, and knew not as well as they that the taste of family bread is sweet. " But yet, if some be bad, 'tis wisdom to beware, And better shun the bait, than struggle in the snare." Matrimony and Fickleness. Terentia, the wife of Maecenas, was a weak but beauti- ful woman, tier husband, who was all his life a valetu- dinarian, was kept by her in a constant state of attraction and repulsion ; for he was attracted by the winning graces of her person, but repelled by the caprices of her variable temper. They often fell out, and as often made peace with one another again ; so that Seneca remarked, that " Maecenas had been married a thousand times, yet never had but one wife." Terentia seems to have resembled the famous giantess, La Giralda, mentioned in Don Quixote, who, " without 10 218 MATRIMONY. changing place, was the most changeable and inconstant woman in the world." Paradise. The question may be asked, How long did Adam remain in Paradise ? Until he was married. It would seem that Adam was right in preferring a wliole world to a flower- garden. We reverse this order of things now ; when mar- ried, we desire to relinquish the world for the retirement of some domestic paradise, some enchanting garden of delights, at least in imagination. Some learned doctors have endeavored to fix the period of time during which our ancestral parents remained in the garden of Eden. In the Historia Scolastica of Petrus Co- metor, it is stated, that the traditionary account places the time at seven hours — Quidmn traduni eos fuisse in Paradiso septem hoi'as.* If an hour be reckoned as a month, that is as a definite period of time, it will be seven months, or the interval betwixt spring and fall. When they first entered the garden, therefore, it was filled with every thing beautiful to behold: that is to say, the trees, shrubs and plants were all in full bloom. They remained until fruit was ripe, for of that Eve plucked ; so that they must have entered in the spring, and they certainly came out in the Jail. Its Joys and Scribes. The history of the joys and scuffles of matrimony would be curious and not uninstructive. It would reveal to us how, in the scenes of love, and in the unison of souls, cemented or partially agglutinated together, by accident, b}^ caprice, by interest, passion, intrigue, or misguided or misplaced at- tachment — or else happily blended by the close sympathies of strong, congenial, and harmonious alfection — how much there is to enjoy and endure ; and what efforts of patience, fortitude, resignation and forbearance, and what inexpressi- ble sentiments of sweet, endearing, caressing and chastened love, have all been called into play ! And how, out of all these inconsistencies, conflicts, harmonies, incongruities, en- * Quoted by Carey, in his Dante. WOMEN. 219 joj^ments, vexations and dolijihts, the- children of the human family are ushered into the world, to enact over again the same exploits their predecessors have performed, from the times and even before, of Samson, Socrates, and Cicero, in whose conjugal alliances there were so much discrepancy and discord, to some of the more modern instances, though rare, of the inappreciable and inestimable affinity of hearts and minds, as was the case with Dacier and his wife, equals in love, in learning, and in literary labor ; and no less so likewise with Klaproth and his adored spouse, who were in- separably united in taste and atfection, and to the attractions of social tastes, added the embellished charms of poetry and piety. " O happy love ! where love like this is found, O heanfelt rapture ! bliss beyond compare !" WOMEN. Injiuence and Virtue. Woman's influence is the sheet anchor of society; and this influence is due not exclusively to the fascination of her charms, but chiefly to the strength, uniformity, and consist- ency of her virtues, maintained under so many sacrifices, and with so much fortitude and heroism. Without these endow- ments and qualifications, external attractions are nothing ; but with them, their power is irresistible. Beauty and virtue are the crowning attributes bestowed by nature upon woman, and the bounty of heaven more than compensates for the injustice of man. The possession of these advantages secures to her universally that degree of homage and consideration which renders her independent of the effects of unequal and arbitrary laws. But it is not the incense of idol worship which is most acceptable to the heart of woman ; it is, on the contrary, the just appreciation of her proper posi- tion, merits, and character, and this demands the oblation of no "mewling minstrelsy," the adulations of " No whining rhymster with his schoolboy song " Ever true to her destiny, and estimating at their real value the higher perfections of human nature, when brought into 820 WOMEN. contrast with what is puerile or ridiculous, woman surpasses man in the quickness of her perceptions and in the right direction of her sympathies. And this is justly due to her praise, that the credit of her acknowledged ascendency is preserved amidst the increased and increasing degeneracy of man. Woman s Love. Deep in her soul pure love is found, In woman's soul, the world around ; In every place, lot, rank, or clime. Where course the chasing sands of time — Where the sun shines or the wind blows, Midst tropic heats or polar snows — Where want, or ill, or grief are known, Her generous sympathies are shown. In princely halls, in prison cells. Life's faithful guardian angel dwells; In Love's or Mercy's noble sphere. She gives a smile or sheds a tear ! The greatest good that man e'er knows, Is that which woman's heart bestows ; If in its bliss he has no share. His lot is joyless every where ; But if it brightly on him beam, A desert then a heaven doth seem — And let the world rail all it can. He is indeed a happy man. American Women. The discovery of the American Continent is due to Columbus, yet it should never be forgotten that his patron was a woman and a queen. The influence and countenance of a woman sustained and encouraged the great navigator when his novel enterprise was regarded with coldness and disfavor by all others, and had been rejected and denounced by wise men and mighty kings. But the name of Isabella has never been greatly honored in this country, although many of her sex have here inherited her virtues and noble sentiments, and, like her, have conferred honor and renown W OMEN. 221 upon tho lanil "If I were asked," says De Tocqueville. " to what tho sin^niliir prosperity and growing strength of the American people ought mainly to be attributed, I should reply — to the superiority of their women." Satire. Poetry is so much imbued with sentiment, and breathes so often the spirit of compliment and love, that ladies take it ill that it should be employed as a vehicle of censure against them. Boileau, contrary, it would seem, to national gal- lantry, had the boldness to publish a satire against women, and Arnauld wrote an apology in favor of it. Would modern Boileaus find, in tlic se.\ of the present times, most to com- mend or most to satirize ? Or, had the French author sub- stantial reasons for his strictures — some defect of ingratiation or some well-merited slight, such as were imagined or expe- rienced by tho wicked little wasp of Twickenham, as Lady Montague called Pope ? Bot what can the ladies allege when not onlv literary writers, but Hebrew prophets, are included among the number of their satirists? They can say this, tiiat where one abuses, thousands extol. '• Women enongh in China." The Russian envoy at Pekin, during the last century, succeeded, contrary to law, in smuggling his wife into that city : she was, however, soon discovered, and required to be sent home, and notice was given to the ambassador " that there were women enough in China." Epigram. In Kden's bowers, where Eve did range, She plucked the fruit of knowledge — strange This act appears to Eves like ours. Who care much less for fruits than flowers. Praise of Little Women. (From tlio Spanish.) " in a little prrciotjs .stone what splendor meets the eyes, In a little lump of sugar how much of sweetness lies ! 222 i' A S 11 I O N . So in a little woman, love grows and niultiplios: You recollect the proverb says, 'a word unto the wise.' A popper corn is very small, but seasons every dinner, More than all other condiments, altho' 'tis sprinkled thinner; Just so a little woman is, if love will let you win her — There's not a joy in all the world you will not iind within her. And as within the little rose you find the richest dyes, And in a little grain of gold much price and value lies; As from a little balsam much odor doth arise, So in a little woman there's a taste of Paradise. The skylark and the nightingale, tho' small and light of wing. Yet warble sweeter in the grove than all the birds that sing ; And so a little woman, though a very little thing. Is sweeter far than sugar, and flowers that bloom in spring." FASHION. What is it ? Fashion was denominated by Addison, " the custom of the great." It is equally the conformity of the little to the usages of those above them. It is the offspring of luxury and pride, two things which, above all others, have most disturbed the peace and happiness of the world. Fuseli styled it the bas- tard of vanity, dressed by art. Influences of Fashion. Fashion exerts its sway over the mind, the habits, the tastes, the affections, and even the looks, when we vainly try, by its trickeries, to keep off old age ; and in all these, it is the predominance of the arbitrary and artificial over the uni- form and natural. " The desire," says Montesquieu, " of appearing to advan- tage, establishes the embellishments of dress ; and the desire of pleasing others more than ourselves, gives rise to fashions." Is the world benefited by fashionable pursuits in litera- ture ; by fashionable follies ; by fashionable marriages ; or, by fashionable religions ? The law of opinion goes forth. We do not ask who pro- FASHION. 223 claims it, but full into the I'anks of its followers and worship- ers. We are whirled round in the giddy maze, and blinded by the dazzling lights. Novelty is the show — conformity is the law — and life a ti*ance — until at last we awake from it, to find that we have been the victims of a fatal folly and a bewildering dream. lis Perfection and Decline. Fashion is a great luminary, which revolves around some central orb of still greater attractive power. It is bright and glorious in its perihelion, but dim and dull in its decline. As to Modes of Living and Dress. In two of the most important particulars which concern us, namely, dress and style of living, we surrender our own judg- ment and preferences, and submit to be controlled and direct- ed by others. Nothing is more imperious and uncompromis- ing than the decrees of fashion. " Such a soup or olio, they say, is much in vogue, and if you do not like it, you must learn to like it." The, Most Fashionable. The most fashionable are they who have a fashion of fol- lowing the fashions in the most fashionable manner, and after a fashion that is contrary to the fashion of those who are de- nounced as unfashionable. They are also a class of people who are exceedingly loving of themselves, and loving to one another. Adopting and leaving it off. Some devotees of fashion learn it too late ; many more too soon. Few leave it off too soon ; a great many abandon it too late. Like other follies it is more excusable in youth than in age. Fashion vs. Nature. The ordinary usages of society tend almost entirely to the effect of display. If accomplishment is to be added to accom- 224 PLEASURE. plislimcnt, and one exterior attraction to another, wc should call to mind the pertinent question once put l)y Walpole, " Of what use will all these things be at home f In what way will they contribute to the charms and solace of domcslic life ? If we succeed in captivating the senses, shall we be equally successful in keeping up the delusion ? When the heart shall demand the treasures of love, will it rest satisfiLMl with the decorations of taste ? If the book has been well bound, and doubly gilt, will its outward splendor and gaudiness suffi- ciently atone for the vagaries and puerilities we shall find within it? Who has not perceived that the genuine and un- disguised loveliness of simplicity is beyond comparison far more endearing and fascinating than all the extraneous adorn- ments of artifice and art in the world — and that for every step we take by which we deviate from it, so do we proportionally recede from sincerity and truth, and engage in those tricke- ries and deceptions, which at first impose upon ourselves, and which we adopt with the hope that they will equally impose upon others ? " Time obliterates the concc ils of opinion or fashion, and establishes the verdicts of Nature." Fashion and Nature. Fashion is not always opposed to Nature. At every de- cade or so, it lays aside its fantasies and eccentricities, and assumes the garb of propriety and simplicity in conformity with Nature. PLEASURE. Variety of Pleasures. Pleasures are those of book, bed. bag, bowl, board, busi- Lbies. Though pleasure is so brief and vain, So lawless and so vicious : PLEASURE. 225 And costs us gold, and health, and pain — Yet oh, it is delicious. Its draughts upon the senses steal, Beguiling and delightful ; As flowers which bloom but to conceal The precipices frightful. As breezy winds o'er ocean play, Whilst merry scenes are calling ; 'Tis sweet to kiss the dashing spray — A shipwreck is appalling. Pleasure, Labor, and Devotion. Pleasure loves the garden and the flowers. Labor loves the fields and the grain. Devotion loves the mountains and the skies. Tu'o Difficulties. Tliere are two difficulties of life : men are disposed to spend more than they can aflbrd, and to indulge more than they can endure. Pleasure should be intermediate between frugality and festivity ; or be like Venus placed between Ceres and Bac- chus. Dangerous Pleasures. Indulging in dangerous pleasures, saith a Burmese pro- verb, is like licking honey from a knife, and cutting the tongue with the edge. The Arabs of the desert use their cimiters as looking- glasses. As to Duration. All pleasures are brief — the most active the soonest sped. The longest pleasure with which we are familiar, is of a pas- sive kind, namely, sleep. 226 PLEASURE. Dangers. Beware of pleasure, should be tiie perpetual lesson incul- cated upon youth. This it is which corrupts, enfeebles, and destroys the mind as well as the body. It is the parent of vice, and the promoter of exhaustion and premature decay. Oh, tritons of the wave, and insects of an hour ! Pleasure and Ruin. Where there is too much pleasure, there will soon be too much ruin. False Pleasures. The pleasure which is generally esteemed as such, is, in fact, the antagonist of all true and positive pleasure, and is nothing else than misery and wretchedness in the alluring disguise of temptation and folly. It dissipates time and op- portunity, and debauches talents ; and the heroic self-denial and determined resolution which resist the influences, and turn away from the enticements of this false Goddess, are the best guarantees which can be given in favor of virtue and discretion in youth, and of judgment and wisdom in old age. And what better proofs can we give of this ascendency of the mind over sensual desires, than that we are able, on every occasion, resolutely to close our eyes against all temptations ! " Fair hangs the apple from the rock, But we will leave it growing." The Study of them. Every man should study his pleasures while they are in hand. They afford important themes of reflection and retro- spection in after time. Pleasure and Sorrow. Pleasure and sorrow are such universal sensations, that every language embodies a great variety of terms to express their different shades and gradations. Thus, jo}^, hilarity, merriment, amusement, sport, pleasantry, &ic., for the one ; and grief, trouble, melancholy, sadness, despondency, gloom. HAPPINESS . 227 dejection, tribulation, and many more for the other. And equally prevalent are the impressions which they produce — the evanescence of pleasure, and the permanency of sorrow. " They are changed, and so am I ; Sorrows live, but pleasures die." Forsaking it. We loiter long in the retreats of pleasure, loth to abandon them, and to place ourselves in that condition so unenviable and uninviting, where we must live to ourselves in compan- ionless solitude, " alike forgetting and forgot." We wait for disappointment, persecution, care, age, affliction, wisdom and experience, to beckon us away and to direct our footsteps into more secluded and less enticing roads. Why should the old linger too long ? Why should the youthful leave so soon .' How void of staid reflection the former, and how earnest the convictions of the lattei*, to deter- mine them upon an immediate and lasting renunciation of the joys and pleasures, the amenities and delights of life ! In the expressive language of Corinne, " The nuns at Venice, on entering the convent to assume the veil which separates them from the world, cast behind them a bunch of flowers as soon as they pronounce the vows which consecrate them to lives of sanctity and seclusion." HAPPINESS. Attainable and Unattainable. The happiness within our reach we covet not, but aflfect to despise. That which is beyond it, we desire to possess, and overrate its real value. To embrace the dictates of common sense is considered vulgar and unambitious ; to transcend them is proof of ele- vation and spirit. Wretchedness is the forfeit which folly and indiscretion pay to experience and regret, or as the adage says. Being miserable, he has been unwise. 228 HAPPINESS Degrees of Happiness. Hume asserted that all who were happy were equally so. But Dr. Johnson observed that the fallacy of this opinion was exposed by a simple illustration given by the Rev. Robert Brown of Utrecht, " A small drinking glass and a large one may be equally full ; but tlie large one holds more than the small." Amusement and Happiness. It is more easy to be pleased than to be satisfied ; to be amused than to be happy. A French philosopher asserts that happiness is a serious state. Certainly the frivolous can experience no just conceptions of happiness. Not in Extremes. Extremes are not in their nature favorable to happiness. The power resides in the fulcrum, not in the ends of the lever. The Unhappy. There are two classes of unhappy people in the world, but how numerous and diversified are they ! They are those whose desires have been in some measure realized by the fa- vors of fortune, and they who have ever been, and continue to be, the victims of disappointment and evil destiny, or of protracted suspense. The overloaded, and they who are loading up ; the full and the empty. Difference of Places. In that vile den where you reside, Your patience is seA'erely tried ; But here, alas ! 'tis far worse yet — That place is Tartary, this, Tophet. Discard the discontent and ease. The place is made just what you please. HAPPINESS. 229 Happiness Various. Nature ever proposes to herself certain ends, to be ac- complished by various means. The cattle that graze in the fields, the fowls that feed in the yard, the birds that alight on the trees or curvet through the air, the insects that gambol in the bright rays of a summer's sun, and the fish that glide through tlie sparkling waters, are all happy, but in different ways, by fixed conditions that do not admit of exchange or transposition. But the happiness of man embraces every element and circumstance of life. He is the representative of every class of created beings, and enjoys, by a general process and ex- elusive privilege, what they realize only by distinct provi- sions and limited regulations. " And a rich loving-kindness, redundantly kind. Moves all nature to gladness and mirth." Saith the English poet Herbert, " All creatures have their joy, and man hath his." And saith another poet also, " All indistinctly apprehend a bliss, On which the soul may rest ; the hearts of all Yearn after it ; and to that wished bourne All therefore strive to tend." Craving for it. As the lapwing thirsts for the water, and strikes with its wings the ground where the fountain is concealed, — as the diamond loveth the lustre of the light, — and the gazelle pants for the cooling streams in the desert, — so do our souls yearn and thirst for happiness and peace ; we long for the fountain of bliss ; we love the cheerful and the gay, and seek for fdeasant retreats and refreshing delights, to beautify and en- iven the arid and cheerless wastes of the world. Past and Prospective. Our recollections of what we have been, constitute OUT anticipations of what we wish to be hereafter. 230 HAPPINESS. Sometimes overreached. We engage in some pursuits so intently, that the ardor which impels us, transcends the possessional value of the ob- jects \vc desire to possess ; and wliat we ultimately gain poorly compensates for what we have previously lost. The effort shouhl be proportioned to the aim, and the weapon to the strength which wields it. When the use of firearms was first introduced in the Tongo Islands, the inhabitants undertook to adapt the size of the load to the game which was to be killed ; thus, a heavy charge was thought necessary to kill a large man, and a very light charge to kill a small one. Perverseness. Insects and reptiles there are, which fulfill the ends of their existence by tormenting us ; so some minds and disposi- tions accomplish their destiny by increasing our misery, and making us more discontented and unhappy. Cruel and false is he, who builds his pleasure upon my pain, or his glory upon my shame. Transitions. " Sperate miseri, Cavete Felices." In happy hours, of woe beware ; In wretched, hope release from care. Happiness and Merit. The separation between happiness and merit, seems to be of a violent and unnatural kind ; we seek to reconcile it to the deductions of reason, by supposing it to exist more in ap- pearance than in reality, and that these kindred qualities are destined even here, ultimately to enjoy the relationship and fellowship of harmony. When Alexander was at the point of death, his friends asked him to whom he intended to bequeath his empire ? He replied, " To the worthiest." Would that the possession of earthly empire, as well as the destiny of human happiness, might ever fall to the lot of " the most worthy." HAPPINESS. 231 Management of Happiness. Happiness is in kind and in degree. Let not the coun- terfeits deceive thee too much, neither chase thy happiness away by folly, temerity, excess, or surfeit of enjoyment. Says Madame de Montolieu, "II ne faut pas fatiguer Ic bon- heur ; il echappe si facilement." " Do not drive away hap- piness by too much caressing ; it will depart soon enough." Negative Happiness. The unexcitable and passionless, those neutral spirits, who arc imagined to be happy, and supremely so, are too emotionless and insipid to experience positive enjoyment. They lack the will to do good, but have not the power to do harm. They possess not the requisite elements, either of greatness or of happiness ; and are so far from being more blessed, by being destitute of occasional impulses or way- ward efforts, which are so many feelers after happiness, that they are generally feeble in character, and strangers to the highest zests of life. There is no exhilaration in mediocrity, no transport in negative pleasure. Occasional . Occasional intervals of happiness, only serve to make us still more unhappy, as the bright flashes define more distinct- ly the dark outlines of the thunder cloud. " The happiest taste not happiness sincere, But find the cordial draught is dashed with care." Caring for it. Happiness is like wealth ; as soon as we begin to nurse it and care for it, it is a sure sign of its being in a precarious state. Unmistakable Happiness. The Chinese character employed (according to the French orientalist, Amusat), to signif}' happiness, is composed of two signs ; of which, one represents an open mouth, and the other, a handful of rice, or rice by itself. 232 HAPPINESS Happiness dependent upon Ternperameni, Le Droz, ulio wrote a treatise upon happiness, describes the conditions necessary for it, as consisting of the greatest fortitude to resist and endure the ills and pains of life, united with the keenest sensibility to enjoy its pleasures and de- lights. That is to say, we must have the constitution of a Dutchman, and the vivacity of a Frenchman ; or possess strength and sensibility conjoined together. Gayely and Happiness. It has been asked, " If to be gay is to be happy ?" If gayety were not sometimes the mask of contentment, worn by dissembling and deceit, — if it were not the means, instead of the end, — if it were not leagued more frequently with fri- volity than wisdom, — if it possessed the cordial balm to soothe the ills we suffer, — if it could benefit and expand the mind, while it pleased and delighted the heart, — then to be gay would be indeed to be happy. In serving others. Is it a good man, or a fool, who makes himself unhappy in promoting the happiness of others ? That question has been correctly answered thus : Is thine eye evil because I am good ? In Things. If happiness consisted in things only, there would be no end to the numberless kinds of it. It was in this point of view that the erudite Roman writer, Varro, enumerated seven hundred sorts of happiness. So also the learned Turkish Doctor, Ebn Abbas, maintained that the number of grievous sins is about seven hundred ; thus balancing the accounts be- tween good and ill. Happiness, Felicity, and Beatitude. A French writer observes, that happiness relates to exter- nal circumstances, — such as the possession of riches and friends ; that felicity depends upon the state of the mind, — its FOPS AND FOOLS. 233 contentment and tranquillity ; whilst beatitude, or bliss, refers to a future condition of being, and is reserved here for those exemplary and devout persons, who already anticipate the en- joyments of another existence beyond the present. The Curse still upon us. Tlic original curse is still resting upon us. The cheru- bim with their flaming swords still guard the gates of Para- dise, and no man enters therein. " But foolish mortals still pursue False happiness in place of true ; A happiness we toil to find, Which still pursues us like the wind." FOPS AND FOOLS. As to Expei'ience. Fools purchase the same experience more than once. Wise-looking Fools. Fools, who know how to assume a grave and solemn as- pect, gain more esteem in the world than wise m^n, whose looks are not set off with an air of gravity and wisdom. Any one may be a fool by the head, or by the heart (that is, the old scriptural fool), and escape detection, but if he is a fool in the face, he is indubitably condemned. Epigram on a Shining Fop. Your boots, my friend, unlike to mine, With polished lustre brightly shine ; Had you bestowed such studious pains, To gloss the dullness of your brains — It would not then by all be said, " How much his feet eclipse his head !" Folly and Gravity. None advocate folly, except the lovers and followers of it, or they who believe that private vices and follies are public 234 FOPS AND FOOLS. benefits. But it is extremely doubtful, did any one possess the power of eradicating all the follies of life, if he would prove a real benefactor to the world by exercising it. Harm- less follies achieve some good, but to enjoy life only in frivol- ity, is tlie most irrational way of enjoying it. Wise men have generally been grave and quiet. Solon and Pericles, Epaminondas and Phocion, F'abius, Maximus and Cato, were all dignified and sedate men. Wl)en Phocion was reproached for his gravity, he replied, " My gravity never did any one any harm, but these jesting fools have caused their country many a tear." Epigram on Rich Fools. If blesst by Fortune, fools are amply wise, They may denounce the wisdom they despise. Why should they vex their brains to toil and think ? Asses and sheep are seldom known to drink. Single and Combined. An especial fool, considered solely in reference to him- self, is provoking and ridiculous enough ; but fools combined and leagued together, are contumacious, refractory, and in- tolerable. Be no John a' dreams, no tinkling, no intermed- dling fool. Nor a fool distinct, nor conjunctive, nor com- parative, nor superlative, nor direct, nor indirect, nor male, nor female (singly or in unity) : and neither in theory nor in practice, in quality, nor in degree ; nor a fool by inference, nor by implication, nor of any kind. But forsake the foolish days, and conform rather to the simplicity of nature, the gentleness, efficacy, goodness, sincerity and beauty of love and wisdom. Above all spurn conceit, for a conceited fool is the most abominable of all fools ; and let instructions enter, Where folly now possesses." An Old Fop. Behold that old fop ! when he was a young fool he passed by unheeded ; now he is an old one, he is folly's target. Has he earned nothing from the wealth of his youth — the rich time of young days — but these traps and trinkets and looped chains of gold, and glittering stones and tinsel ? FOPS AND FOOLS. 235 Must it ever be appearances and frippery and nothing more ? Old, but still youn