103.

'Look to the end of a long life,' said one of the
sages;

Exspectanda homini dies, dicique beatus,

Ante obitum nemo, supremaque funera debet! Ovid.
Then no man will be found happy-you may dis-
tinguish and divide, and subdivide to eternity on the
word "happy."

104.

He

Imprisonment for debt makes a man a rogue.
owes fifty or a hundred pounds, and is thrown into
prison. He argues thus, with himself: I am in pri-
son-my credit is lost for ever! Credit is the fulcrum
of trade, money the lever. Without the one, the
other is of no service but to pay my debts, and leave
me to starve. This self-interest forbids-I will
therefore take advantage of the Insolvent Act, and
keep my money.

105.

Some characters are so determined to be invisible,
that they envelop themselves in as many coats,
comforters, and cloaks, as an Englishman travels
with. Would you discover them still? Resort to
flattery. You will see them, like an equestrian in
the circus, throw off the cloak, then the comforter,
then the great coat, until all laid bare, they stand
before your mind's eye, puris naturalibus, to be read
at pleasure.

106.

Assuredly, when the imagination gives way to the
full contemplation of the ORATOR "in his pride of
place," no capacity seems adequate to give a perfect
picture of the GREAT MAN. Whether from the pnyx
of Athens, he strikes enthusiasm and revenge into
the breasts of a fickle and light people;-or from

the rostrum of imperial Rome, he breathes the charms of syren-blandishment to a proud populace;or rising from the tombs of perfect antiquity, soars triumphant in the Senate-house of Britain;-or with the Cross of Salvation, stands advocate between God and man, in the pulpit, the genius of oratory, beams effulgent as day, decorated with the laurels of a DEMOSTHENES, CICERO, BURKE, MAPILLON, and BRYDAINE, and waving in his extended arms, the everlasting records of his fame!

107.

Of all literary spoliations, that of Le Sage is the most barefaced. It is perhaps not generally known that " Gil Blas" was originally a Spanish work, and only translated by Le Sage! To the Spanish work is this title:

AVENTURAS DE GIL BLAS

DE SANTILLANA

ROBADAS A ESPANA Y ADOPTADAS
EN FRANCIA

POR MONSIEUR LE SAGE.
RESTITUIDAS A SA PATRIA

PAR UN ESPAGNOL ZELOSO
QUE NO SUFFRE SE BURLEn de
SU NATION.

The adventures of Gil Blas
of Santillana,
Kidnapped from Spain, and naturalized
in France,
By Monsieur le Sage.
Restored to his Country
By a zealous Spaniard,

Who will not suffer his Nation
To be imposed upon.

108.

Ovid has written

"Men oft are false; and if you search with care You'll find less fraud imputed to the fair!"

And Byron

66

man, to man, so oft unjust,

Is always so to women!"

These are good authorities, and the question ought now to be settled.

109.

There are certain nasty little tempers, so testy, that they appear to be in their second stage of existence (by metempsychosis) from wasps.

110.

A new dignity to a fool, is like lead to a feather. Whereas before he might have been blown about in harmless insignificancy, he now sinks (sicut plumbum) into the bogs of inconsistency.

111.

A young woman just introduced into society is like the rose just opening in the morning watch, as yet uncertain what breeze she will embalm with her new-born fragrance!

112.

Do you know the important period of childhood? It is that twilight which prevails for a time, between the night of ignorance, and the growing day of knowledge. This is a critical period, and on it depends the happiness and misery of after days. Few parents think so; but the whole train of calamities so often ascribed to fate and destiny, are describable to the fatal neglect of this important era. It is then that the dispositions of the soul, the talents of

the mind, ought to be searched out, and the possessor placed in that position which will ensure his happiness here and hereafter. The little soul, like the eye blind from birth, timidly opens itself, afraid of receiving too great a flash of light. It becomes the duty of the parent to direct the vision of the mind, and like a skilful oculist, keep it from too glaring a light, as well as too dense a shade.

113.

Any thing but a proper motive influences the choice of professions, by fathers in general. Are they rich-the purse is consulted; are they ambitious-a paltry title, and not the faculties of the child, becomes the motive of his choice. When this is the case what can we expect, but a retrogradation of science and art—ruin and misery in society? .. Why is the law crowded with brainless periwigs? Why is the medical profession with useless members? Why is the church disgraced with fishers of fish, hunters of wild beasts, &c.?

114.

At the beginning of a work short chapters go down best; long ones are hard of digestion-particularly now-a-days, when we are forced to cram down so much very crude matter.

115.

Nothing is more common than to see a young man go through all the preparatory classes, pass a course of rhetoric and poetry, and yet be utterly unfit to enter upon a rational conversation. The mind has not been opened to the contemplation of general nature -it has been cramped down to one pursuit, and beyond that, it has never peeped out of its little retreat, to mingle with the realities of man.

116.

"Then to the well-trod stage anon.”—MILTON. There is no character so unjustly depreciated as that of the actor considered in itself. Whether we contemplate the wide range of faculties requisite for its perfection, or the strength, the versatility of passion necessary to enter into every feeling, every action of the human heart, assuredly the actor is one of a thousand, of tens of thousands, and as such ought to be appreciated. The perfect actor may be considered an epitome of the human race! In one single breast he accumulates the joys, the woes, the feelings of each and every individual that exists or has existed. Forgetting the present, he launches into the past, like some reckless mariner on an unknown sea; careless of the storm, he is piloted by the winds of passion! He is no longer one of the existing generation, but with a single effort, he consigns himself to the regions of the dead. From the sleep of ages, he evokes the spirit of Cæsar: and,

"All grim with dust, all horrible with blood, "Richard's himself again!"

He marries the past with the present, and from the union comes forth perfection-the perfection of Art and GENIUS.

117.

Some men are such fools, that they consider none as wise as themselves! A strange anomaly, if we did not know that a tadpole is ignorant of its own deformity.

118.

If seclusion and solitude were good friends of guilt, excommunication might effect a desirable purpose-but it is the cruel mother of despair; and the