ted with discretion. We entirely concur with Dr. os, that a nation to be virtuous must not license corption; to be orderly, it must not establish nurseries of srule; to be pure, it must not charter dens of debauchy; to be temperate, it must not plant temptations to pling among the people. In short, the creating cirimstances the drag upon the wheels of progress-must › removed, and replaced by new affections, that will pave -not impede the way to moral and mental culture. Discretion, we presume, means by the world to be analorous to the Divine right of kings to govern wrong. We agree in part with Lord Chesterfield, where he remarks— Were most historical events traced up to their true causes, I fear we should not find them much more noble, nor disinterested than Luther's disappointed avarice and therefore his lordship looked with some contempt upon those refining and sagacious historians, who ascribe all, even the most common events, to some deep political cause: whereas mankind is made up of inconsistencies, and no man acts invariably up to his predominant character. And why? There is no sustaining power in either fibre or The obvious inference is, the wisest man sometimes acts weakly, and the weakest sometimes wisely. Our jarring passions, our variable humours, nay, our greater or lesser degree of health and spirits, produce such contradictions in our conduct, that we believe those are often mistaken who ascribe our actions to the most seemingly obvious motives.

nerves.

The Greek proverb-"Half is sometimes better than the whole," is a verity; and we are convinced that a light

not, for interested reasons which it would be needless to name, and idle to descant. Our rulers are slow to learn that their natural allies are the many.

Our readers must pardon another digression to put a moral question-May not our self-esteem-our selfapplause be equally-perhaps more securely-won in obscurity, than in fame? As to posterity, what philosophical, what moderately-wise man can seriously find pleasure for the present in reflecting on the praises he can never hear? No-say what we will, you may be sure that ambition is an error: its wear and tear of heart are never recompensed; it steals away the freshness of life; it deadens its vivid and social enjoyments; it shuts our souls to our own youth, and we are old ere we find that we have made a fever and a labour of our raciest years. There is and we cannot deny it-a certain, weary, stale, unprofitable flatness in all things appertaining to life; and what is worse, the more we endeavour to lift ourselves from the beaten level, the keener is our disappointment. Let us cultivate our reason, rather than our feelings; for reason reconciles us to the daily things of existence. Our feelings teach us to yearn after the far-the difficult -the unseen. It is somewhat irksome for noble and generous minds to accommodate themselves to the fashionists of the day. The sway is not to be exacted by servitude, or purchased by the sacrifice of one's independent individuality and taste, to the false taste of the public. We wage a vigorous war against all the crafts, of all denominations, that fatten on popular ignorance; not forgetting that genius will be respected only when

united with discretion. We entirely concur with Dr. Lees, that a nation to be virtuous must not license corruption; to be orderly, it must not establish nurseries of misrule; to be pure, it must not charter dens of debauchery; to be temperate, it must not plant temptations to tippling among the people. In short, the creating circumstances the drag upon the wheels of progress-must be removed, and replaced by new affections, that will pave -not impede the way to moral and mental culture. Discretion, we presume, means by the world to be analogous to the Divine right of kings to govern wrong. We agree in part with Lord Chesterfield, where he remarksWere most historical events traced up to their true causes, I fear we should not find them much more noble, nor disinterested than Luther's disappointed avarice and therefore his lordship looked with some contempt upon those refining and sagacious historians, who ascribe all, even the most common events, to some deep political cause: whereas mankind is made up of inconsistencies, and no man acts invariably up to his predominant character. And why? There is no sustaining power in either fibre or nerves. The obvious inference is, the wisest man sometimes acts weakly, and the weakest sometimes wisely. Our jarring passions, our variable humours, nay, our greater or lesser degree of health and spirits, produce such contradictions in our conduct, that we believe those are often mistaken who ascribe our actions to the most seemingly obvious motives.

The Greek proverb-"Half is sometimes better than the whole," is a verity; and we are convinced that a light

supper, a good night's rest, and a fine morning-the air
well surcharged with oxygen-have sometimes made a
hero of the same man who, by indigestion, a restless
night, or a rainy morning, would have proved a coward.
Our best conjectures, therefore, of the true springs of
action, are very uncertain; and the actions themselves are
all that we must pretend to know from history. Let us,
then, be cautious how we deduce inferences for our own
practice, from remote facts, partially or ignorantly related,
of which we can but imperfectly guess-and certainly not
know the real motives. But it may here be inquired-Are
we to sow universal distrust, and exterminate the natural
guides of the people? Let the men of principle be the
principal men. How beautiful, says Sidney Smith, is the
progress of man! Printing has abolished ignorance; gas
has put an end to darkness; steam has conquered time
and distance and he might have added, telegraphs have
annihilated space.
It remains for Grote and his box to
remove the incumbrance of truth from human transactions.
May we not look for more little machines to abolish the
other cardinal virtues? Whatever is pure, and of good
report, we do not wonder at men being suspected. We
fear-desirous as we are to maintain a charity that hopeth
all things-that there is even now in our midst, too much
truth in Byron's severe satires upon the English.
"And, after all, what is a lie?

'Tis but the truth in masquerade; and I defy
Historians, heroes, lawyers, priests,

To put a fact without the leaven of a lie:
The very shadow of truth would shut up annals,
Revelations, and prophecy, except it should be dated
Some years before the incident related."

Without subscribing entirely to the following stanzas, such contradictions are assuredly to be met with, pained as we are to affirm it.

"Tis not in mortals to command success,

But do you more, Sempronius, don't deserve it,
And take my word, you won't have any less :

Be wary, watch the time, and always serve it
Give gentle way when there's too great a press;
And for your conscience only learn to nerve it,
For like a race-horse, or a boxer training-

"Twill prove vast efforts without paining."

;

All genuine philanthropists starting on their missions of love, must look for relentless opponents, who will use their utmost endeavours to paralyse, and thwart, and disconcert good purposes. No reports are more readily believed than those which disparage genius, and soothe the envy of conscious mediocrity. The maxim is equally true, that those who trample on the helpless, are disposed to cringe to the powerful. Equally true is the sentiment —He must look little in the eyes of the world, who soars so high as to be almost out of sight.

Health does not rank sufficiently high among the virtues. In the battle, discontent seeks for comfort, cowardice for courage, and bashfulness for confidence. And who that ever asked succour from Bacchus, was able to preserve himself from being enslaved by this auxiliary? Live as long as you may, the first twenty years form the greater part of your life. They appear so when they are passing -they seem to have been so when we look back to them; they take up more room in our memory than all the years that succeed them. If this be so, how important they