faculties which are not common, to something which is the gift of nature, and unattainable by those who do not now possess it, than to that labor and mental exertion which is the real source of all intellectual eminence. The second error is, that a man is praised, not for having the fruits of his assiduity, not for being learned, but for possessing talents. He has the reward of merit for that which was confessedly beyond his power to obtain; and very often he who by some accident is thought what is called a genius, although he may be a very idle one, is ranked as superior to him who possesses all that genius can give except the reputation of it. Now these errors are harmless, in so far as this, that a man who obtains knowledge will always obtain praise, though probably this praise will be for the ability to acquire rather than for having exercised his powers; yet again it is injurious because some may be satisfied with the reputation of ability, and content with this, not make those exertions to which the want of it might otherwise prompt them. But the consequence which is perhaps most to be lamented, and which it is most pertinent to the present purpose to notice, is the discouragement, and wrong estimation of one's own character, which may be produced, and the waste and neglect of talents which may follow from such mistakes. Intellectual excellence is one of the favorite objects of the wishes of most men. It is a desire, that not unfrequently is excessive, and exposes them to vanity, and all its ridiculous consequences. There are those against whom few accusations could be brought, which would not be rendered almost inoffensive, provided the charge were accompanied by any acknowledgment of their intellectual superiority. But this kind of excellence is certainly to be sought after, and valued, since it gives a rank in society, which cannot be obtained so easily without it, and especially because it affords greater facilities for the acquisition of what is morally good. It must therefore be very desirable to all to ascertain the just and proper rank of their minds, how far they

are susceptible of cultivation, and how far they are cultivated. This knowledge will preserve those who desire intellectual excellence only because it gives men rank and reputation, from the mortifications consequent upon inordinate self-estimation; and it will assist those in the use of their understandings, who would improve them as the better part of their na ture, and as the means of virtue and happiness. Our intellectual character must then be a worthy and an interesting object of self-examination. When we inquire into it, we must be careful to make the test of it, our own observation. We must be firm enough to resist equally the praises of a friend, and the aspersions of an enemy; for none but ourselves have all the means of judging. We alone know what are the subjects to which our thoughts spontaneously recur; whether our minds are commonly employed upon subjects of permanent interest, and great importance; or whether our mental strength is debilitated from inaction, or suffered to waste itself upon trifles. The books and the society which we prefer, and the truths that are impressed upon our memories by what we have read and heard, the degree of inclination which we feel to obtain knowledge, the patience with which we persevere in pursuit of it, and the pleasure which new acquisitions afford, are some of the circumstances we should regard. To be told that we have ability, must not satisfy us; for we may have been observed only in our most favorable states of mind. We must know that of the praises we receive a great part are undeserved; and that there are many, and that we may be of their number, who have enjoyed reputation far beyond their deserts. The expressions of intellectual character are frequently mistaken; because it requires discrimination and good judgement to estimate them correctly. For the same reasons the want of approbation is not to discourage us. Timidity, or awkwardness, or the very desire of showing that we are not ignorant,

may lead us into the most unpleasant mistakes. We may possess all that would command the respect we desire, but may be destitute of the power of easily manifesting it to others. We must therefore recur to the observations which we ourselves have made, if we desire to form a correct estimate of our intellectual character.

It is not so when we seek to know ourselves as social beings. We alone indeed can know what are our dispositions toward others; but our value as members of society depends not upon the possession, but upon the exercise and expressions of our kind and benevolent affections. It is an important part of our duty to render ourselves pleasing to others; and so certain is it that if we do this, they will express their satisfaction, that we may consider their manners toward us as a fair index of our own. It is true that it is of the utmost importance that our principles and feelings should be correct; and there is no better mode of ascertaining whether they be so than by applying to them the rules of religion; for they constitute a part of our religious character. But although if our hearts be pure, and our intentions good, we shall probably avoid injuring those around us, yet something more is necessary to render us as pleasing and as useful as we should wish to be. We are to attend to the prejudices and opinions of our fellow beings; we must yield to them in all actions which are morally indifferent; we must endeavour not only to do them good, but to do it pleasantly. Now our success in these exertions must be known from those for whom they are made; and we must wish for the opinions of those who are judicious observers. Nothing can more assist us in these inquiries than a friend. He that possesses one that is faithful in reproof, and sincere in praise, has greater advantages for judging of his external deportment, than any other circumstances can afford. These remarks apply particularly to our manners; but there are other things to which attention must

be paid, from regard to the forms and customs of society, and which may appear to be more important. There are donations to be made beside our charities, cares to be assumed which will not benefit us, business to be performed which is not our own, and services to be rendered to the community for which there is no compensation. Many objects demand the attention of a public spirited man, whose obligation depends upon opinion; and he must consult the example of oth ers for his guide in what he does concerning them. When therefore we wish to know our social character, as far as it depends upon these circumstances, we must consult that which in this case is the only rule of action.

But the most important object of self-examination has not yet been noticed. It is above all other things interesting to know in what measure our lives are conformed to the will of our heavenly Father, and to the example of our beloved Saviour, whose blessed memory is the light of our world. Do we view the character of God with complacency? are we penitent for our sins? do we aspire after greater virtue than we possess? are our actions influenced by proper motives? are we acquiring such characters as belong to the inhabitants of heaven? are we willing that our future condition shall be determined by God?-These are questions which are worthy to occupy our minds. They are not to be answered by recurring to any creeds or systems of faith. Virtue does not consist in, or very much depend upon the speculative opinions which we may adopt; for there are but few articles of belief that are requisite to the Christian character, and those are possessed by almost all who call themselves Christians; while controversies and disputes are agitated upon subjects of comparatively little importance. The light which God has given us is sufficient to indicate our duty; and knowing our obligations, we can judge whether we discharge them. The opinions of others will afford us no

Yet passing, they o'er me their influence shed,
And fruit now remains, though its promise is dead.
Thus vanish the blossoms that spring may display,
The hope of the season, the joy of a day.

But though disappointment has sobered my view,
And sometimes a wearisome path I pursue,
When worn with disease, or with studious pain,
The sighs of depression I cannot restrain-

I would not exchange for the joys that are past,
The pleasures mature that forever will last;
The vigor of mind, the engagement of soul,

Of feeling and thought the increasing control,
And, my friend, thy regard, that confiding and kind,

Has enlivened my prospects, my feelings refined,

And has scattered the clouds that once darkened my day, By the cheering attentions affection can pay.