formed, and physically they change daily: their being modifies itself without ceasing. The Cromwell of 1650 was not the Cromwell of 1640. There is always a groundwork of individuality; it is always the same man who perseveres; but how changed are his ideas, sentiments, and will! What things has he lost and acquired! At whatever moment we look upon the life of man, there is no time when it has been what we shall see it when its term is attained.

Our SAVIOUR had in store nobler truths; but His supreme omniscient mind knew well those in the infancy of time were non-recipients, and could not bear them.

Horace Walpole mentions a sceptical bon vivant, who being urged to become a Roman Catholic, objected that it was a religion enjoining too many fasts, and requiring such explicit faith. "You give us," he observed, "too little to eat, and too much to swallow." There is a golden mean (observes Dickens), doubtless a right medium between two extremes-a middle course from which divergence is peril; in fact, a juste milieu. From the days of Photon to our own, medic tutissimus ibis has been sound advice, whether as to physical or moral progression. The man who can be generous without prodigality, and thrifty without avarice; brave without rashness, and cautious without fear; tender without weakness, and firm without severity; trusting without blindness, and vigilant without suspicion;—of such rare characters we may unhesitatingly declare, indubitably their houses are well swept and garnished. What a contrast to those men who are little better than brigands,-all struggling for supre

macy-none lovely and of good report! Military men never blush, for it is not in the articles of war.

Power has two sources—moral and physical; the force of opinion and that of animal muscle. Many are courageous from the dread of the infamy absurdly attached to cowardice. One terror expels another. A bullet is less formidable than a sneer. Courage, considered in itself, or without reference to its causes, is no virtue, and deserves no esteem. The courage of benevolence and piety, which counts not life dear in withstanding error, superstition, vice, injustice, and all wrong; in opposing the mightiest foes of improvement and happiness,—all these are the perfection of humanity, are God-like, and are worthy of our approval. Our love of peace is second only to the love of freedom. We are no friends to aggressive war; it is totally indefensible upon Christian principles. To men of surface qualities, he

"Who slays a man in his own cause

Is felon forfeit to the laws :

Who causeless mows a million down,
Is hero deck'd with laurel crown."

Persons murdered by the fictions of the law are bad enough; but now, under the sanction of our collective wisdom (where talent is so convergent), we have men brushed away by thousands, who have never before seen or known each other, with as little remorse as if they were so many insects which we destroy, because they sting us. Is honour nothing? Let Falstaff respond. The fact is, patriots neither pant for laurels, nor delight in blood, but long to be delivered from the tyranny of

idleness, and restored to the dignity of active beings. Men who feel the dignity of virtue are too proud to be vicious. A customary sin is no charm to us because it is customary. "Peace and good-will to all men;" scattering through the world by the pen and the press, seeds of goodness that will go on increasing and multiplying in the human mind, till the great assize, the universal harvest day, is indeed a pleasure to us that is unspeakable.

It may well be said that an Englishman is never happy unless he is miserable; an Irishman never at peace till he's fighting; and a Scotchman never at home until he is abroad. All this restlessness is indicative that effort and activity are the lot of all, and that the surplus nervous power must have a vent. Banishment is anything but good for man; but how much easier it is to be active for good than evil! It is harder to be a drone than a busy bee. Weariness is itself a temporary resolution of the nerves, and is therefore to be avoided. Exercise is labour only while it produces pleasure. But man thwarts the God of Nature on every hand. In the Creator's works, through all the glorious and beneficent gradations, we may track the manifest footsteps of the Great Sensorium of the Universe, advancing to his grand ultimate end, the salvation of his creatures, the perpetuity of man's happiness. To paint men and manners (says Didoret), you must use the feather of a butterfly's wing-so morbidly sensitive are we become: and no wonder. Besides hereditary predispositions, our modern habits tend to feed and keep up irritability; and extreme sensibility superadded, creates very unamiable traits, which are not a little aggravated by

our bad dietary and a worse cuisine. In modern times every article that is more disposed to ferment than another, is called into requisition; and nearly all, more or less, indulge to repletion, that is truly staggering to the philosopher who looks to consequences.

The enervating diluents of teas and coffees, so rife amongst a large section of our species, with the addition of oleaginous, albuminous, and saccharine matters, act upon certain temperaments as ill as the most misanthropical could desire.

It is well known what the products of the use and abuse of these unchemical admixtures are. Each one of us may have daily demonstrative proof that all superfluities of naughtiness which the stomach cannot dispose of, run into the acetous fermentation; or, in other words, the gastric region becomes abnormal, transmuted into a vinegar manufactory: and not only so, but a portion of the redundant acid becomes absorbed, and has to be riddled off through the kidneys and other secretory glands. Hence we have, consecutively, from excess of liquids and solids-bad digestion, bad blood, bad secretions, bad tempers; which by moderation in all things might be avoided. Nothing more easy than to cure bad tempers when arising from sour stomachs! Any man who wills it-that is, to pass his own emancipation bill, or to pass from darkness into marvellous light-may prove the truth of these remarks to a demonstration.

There is a rack, more or less screwed up, on which humanity stretches itself, either compulsory or voluntarily. And if people were to speak plain English (a language

as Evelyn observes, which so few of the English do speak), the phrase-will you join our party of pleasure? or-let us have another bottle, would not be more frequent in their mouths than-we are going to put ourselves to torture, will you join us? or—the rack is ready, will you take a turn? When our hospitable (or rather hospital) friends invite us with a perseverance worthy of a better cause, to partake of any dessert, say-pound-cake, almonds and raisins, nuts, and numberless varieties of saccharine compounds (whether animal, vegetable, or mineral poisons), the honest and laudable manner of addressing us should be this:-Do allow me to give you a little dyspepsia, pyrosis, acidity, heart-burn, flatulency, headache, spasms, &c. &c. True, if people would follow our advice, they would be seraphs; but as they do but follow the example of their friends and neighbours, they are something a little lower. Yet fancy loves excess;-it is the simplicity of the soul secures its immortality. "The causeless curse shall not come." We may

read our sin in our punishment. There is a trick in bestowing good names on bad things. How significant and explicit is the word "nice," and yet if we look to sequences, these "nice" things lead to most vicious results. Vices thus veiled are introduced to us as virtues, according to an old poet, "as drunkenness good fellowship we call." Thus loyalty may be ridiculed as the right divine of kings to govern wrong. It is true men have a right to make themselves as ridiculous as they like, and to squander their money on whom they may; but let them remember that they have no right to do anything harmful to