opposite exaggeration, through the effect of the surprise which our mistake has made us experience. If we are sincere, we shall acknowledge that the vices with which we especially reproach the world, are those by which our vanity, our repose, or our pretensions have suffered; and that our judgment has a little the character of revenge. We are disconcerted with ourselves, and wreak this discontent upon others; we look at them through the medium of a chagrin, which springs from being ill at ease. We have hardly studied to discover and to note what society may contain of hidden virtues, of pure and just sentiments. Besides, how great is the weakness of our reason, if morality loses its authority in our eyes, because it loses its credit in the world!Is worldly success necessary, as a sanction or a proof? Does it become an illusion, because some frivolous men misconceive it? If so, let us go upon the theatre of the world, as generous defenders of this misconceived cause, instead of flying and yielding to pusillanimous fears. In seeking to make it honored and attractive, we shall better feel all that it contains of the true, beneficial and celestial; we shall feel the necessity of supporting our defence by our character. The progress of philosophy and science is indebted chiefly to the controversies that truth has encountered; each party has gathered new truths springing out of the discussions; morality may draw similar fruits from similar collisions. The good man will confirm the solidity of his principles by this noble contest; he will learn to proclaim aloud the sacred maxims of duty in the face of human passion, and to do good for goodness [sake; he will be inflamed with new ardor for morality, when he sees it misunderstood, exiled, persecuted; he will come from the field where he has devoted himself in its cause, more manly, great and independent.

The honor of carrying this kind of devotion to heroism is granted to but few; it is a favor that Providence has reserved to those privileged souls who appeared on earth as the glo rious witnesses of eternal truth. But each of us, in his own circle, may participate in this glorious vocation; each of us, in struggling against prejudice, vicious passion, indifference, and frivolity, may become a confessor of morality, fulfil a kind of apostleship, confirm it by his success and sacrifices; and gather new strength in learning to resist.

TEMPER.

It is a kind of moral Proteus, which so governs our intellect,

that we think we really see things such as it suggests them to us, and which so governs our will, that we think we wish for what it prescribes to us. There is nothing logical or argumentative in it; we know not whence it comes, or at what it aims. Every thing about it, seems spontaneous and capricious. It is not one of our faculties, and yet it is identified and incorporated with them, modifying them at pleasure, and concealing them from our own observation. It moulds our minds and characters; sometimes giving them so singular and unexpected an aspect, that we can hardly recognize them ourselves. Sometimes smiling and severe, it delights to adorn objects, and exhibit them in their most agreeable aspects; making every thing seem easy to us; flattering our hopes, quieting our vexations, disposing us to calmness, to forgetfulness of self, and seeming to bring both our inward life and all that surrounds us into harmony. Sometimes sad, restless, and even savage, it throws a pall over nature, peoples the future with dark phantoms, agitates us without cause, pursues us with vain terrors, makes us torment ourselves, seems to rob us of our dearest affections, to corrupt, to poison every thing, even our thoughts, condemning our hearts to a kind of exile, and urging us to diffuse abroad our internal troubles. Thus it disconcerts the pre-conceptions of philosophy and morality; sometimes seeming to render their aid useless, so natural and light does it make the task which is imposed upon us; and sometimes seeming to render us unable to follow their counsels, so thick is the cloud with which it invests us.

We see it lavish its favors upon the most ordinary beings, and overwhelm with its tyranny the most distinguished; to sport with the same man, and put him in contradiction to himself, by making him feel by turns its tyranny or favors, not only at different periods of his life, but at different hours of the day. We are accustomed to call this power temper. Perhaps it has not occupied the attention of moralists sufficiently. There is something vague and confused in it, which escapes observation. But it would be rendering a great service to most men to mark it out for them, and teach

them to know it; for, like all imposters, it loses the greatest part of its means of success, as soon as it is unmasked.

Let those rejoice, whom this power has treated as favorites: let them accept its assistance, and profit by it, using their strength better, for the great object of life,-progress towards perfection. They would be guilty if they did no better than others, since it costs them less to do well. But let them have two reflections constantly present to their minds; let them not forget, that excellence, when it is only the effect of a happy temper, is a blessing rather than a merit, and that they must therefore take care not to glory in it, nor reckon it among their titles to esteem; and let them not forget how inconstant and changeable this disposition is, and let them expect to need greater courage, when it shall cease, or change into a contrary mood.

To those whom it has chosen for its victims, it offers most abundant cause for the exercise of self-control, which is more difficult in this case, as they must seize a fleeting shadow, and can hardly distinguish the features of the enemy they are to oppose, and as a great effort of reflection is requisite to be sure of its presence. It is also the more difficult because this enemy presses upon them on all sides, seizes them, as it were, bodily, and seeks to take possession of the arms that must be employed against him.

The external education, which the customs of the world give, teaches us to subdue the effects of temper, in our daily social intercourse, as a means of succeeding and pleasing: it teaches us that for the latter object, an enlightened and cultivated reason, fidelity to the affections, generous and delicate conduct, are not enough; perhaps, indeed, it teaches us that they are of much less importance than charming manners, facility of intercourse, condescension and grace. But, thus debarred from outward expressions, the temper may only make greater ravages than where it is unshackled. And we frequently see people, who wear in society a serene brow, and are gay and obliging, make those who impose less restraint upon them, pay dearly for the momentary sacrifice, vexing their own families with their temper, even obliging their friends to endure its effects, and their most intimate friends too; because they feel more safe in intimacy, and are more at ease. Yet the closer the ties are which unite us to others, the worse it is to deprive them of the enjoyment they expect from us the worse it is to grieve them and make

them suffer; for we may thereby put them in danger of mistaking our true sentiments, may check the overflowings of confidence, destroy their self-surrendering trust, and interrupt the interchange of consolations and advice. Thus is sometimes produced and nourished that susceptibility, which makes us imagine we are constantly injured by those among whom we live, as if we enjoyed a kind of satisfaction and complacency in thinking others guilty, which susceptibility, after having made us commit real faults, suggests new ones to justify the first; so that, by a series of sad reactions, what was at first only an involuntary impulse, terminates in injustice, and sometimes embitters the most sacred and precious relations of life.

A peevish temper is the natural consequence of the satiety and disgust which accompany excess of pleasure; of the lassitude which succeeds to the violence of passion; and of the mistakes which punish presumptuous ambition. It arises from the contrast between our pretensions and our situation, between our means and our desires. It arises not only from our discontent with our fate, but from every species of uneasiness: it is the sad consequence of a want of self-satisfaction; of the remembrance of irreparable errors, and of our feeling the necessity of covering and concealing shameful weaknesses. A black vapor seems to arise from every moral distemper, and obscure the soul's horizon. Even the aberrations of virtue may produce a similar effect, through the abuse of solitude and the excess of austerity.

Hence temperance derives new motives to avoid all exaggeration, as well as new motives to moderate our wishes to the measure of the condition to which we are confined. Hence also arises a new argument for accepting the pleasures offered to virtue; for enjoying peace and serenity; for not breaking the alliance of duty and happiness; nor, of rejecting the doctrines, which, according to the instructions of morality, heighten the value of true and pure pleasures, and save us from exaggerations, which might render us too severe towards ourselves. If we wish to try a remedy, which, when we are beset by the vapors of a sad and gloomy temper, never will be inefficacious, let us seek to diffuse among others, consolation, happiness, or even mere pleasure. This remedy is infallible. If we are in a solitary situation, in which we can find no aid, and cannot be useful to others, the care of mere animals, relieving their sufferings, foreseeing their wants, and

procuring them comfort, has been known to clear away these vapors. Weak characters are most exposed to be surprised and governed by temper. Every thing wounds them, and they do not know how to resist. They cannot will what they desire. They contradict, belie, and torment themselves. They live in chaos. They are not firm enough to remain bound to their resolutions and principles. They are discontented with things, because they are unable to master them; and with themselves, because they continually disappoint their own expectations.

GREATNESS OF SOUL.

THERE is something so admirable in greatness of soul, that it cannot be contemplated without deep emotion. It excites an ardent emulation within us; it reveals to us something about the faculties of our nature, which we had not perhaps suspected, but which we recognize to be a gift of the human race. We feel a just pride in belonging to that common country, where such noble characters are produced; and, in the joy of this discovery, we almost feel confident that we are capable of imitating them. Greatness of soul unites in itself the two noblest traits which belong to the character of man; it borrows from love of excellence all that is generous, and from self-government all that is energetic. It points out the end to which our nature arrives; shows us the whole extent of our liberty; and thus teaches us of what we should be capable, if we dared.

Let there be glory then to those, whom magnanimity inspires! let it surround them like a luminous halo, that they may console and spread joy through the world by their examples! Let them come forth as the acknowledged flower of mankind, adorned with the richest coloring! Let them be considered as the ornaments of society! Let them appear like so many beacons, destined to awaken in all hearts, the virtuous affections; and to give encouragement by inspiring high and lawful hopes!

Greatness of soul is promoted by respect, admiration, and a holy and pure enthusiasm, for it looks upward, towards what is essentially excellent. It is the peculiarity of great souls to delight in homage paid to noble actions. Far from being accessible to envy, they feel a secret and deep joy in