is otherwise occupied; the gentleman just looks over the top of his newspaper with an inquiring but indifferent glance to see what resemblance the boy's face has to that of the family. The whole situation is a complete picture of fallen and indigent gentility. "The insolence of wealth will out;" and on whom more readily than on a poor relation? The very term suggests every idea of contumely and neglect.

Earnest was the bitterness with which a man born to a title without wealth uttered the wish that his father had been a substantial miller!

It may be said that this position is a great spur to exertion, as prompting the effort to make good the pretensions which accompany it. Many, however, who feel this stimulus are deficient in the ability or opportunity which are both necessary for success in the battle of life.

Hence their very exertions, being constantly baffled, only add the vexations of disappointment to the original discomforts of their position.

The miseries of this position are of a kind that admit not of the anodyne of pity, for pity is partly contempt, and contempt is the very treatment which most galls them. For their own peace of mind, persons in fallen circumstances must learn a difficult lesson of life, to forget their antecedents, while retaining their original refinement of feeling and habits; for gentility is only "old wealth."

It has been well said that it is bad for a state to have in it too many gentlemen, that is, many poor gentlemen. These are the discontented spirits that make revolutions, and are the fitting materials of faction with all its intrigues for place and emolument.

CAUTIOUS ADVICE.

It is always the safer course to prophesy failure and dissuade from attemps which incur risk; so that nothing will be done if such advice be followed. More evils probably ensue from timidity than from rashness, in the battle of life. Dissuasion from enterprises of some peril is often prompted by a timid avoidance of responsibility, instead of by honest interest in the welfare of the person dissuaded. The caution of such advisers is on their own account, not on their friend's.

MODERN PROGRESS.

It is astonishing how much better social life is understood in these days than it was before-its relations, its duties, its proprieties, its capabilities, its exigencies, its expedients,

CIVILISATION.

Civilisation chiefly consists in restraining men from venting their malevolent passions upon each other; its object is mutual peace, its motive individual security. This is its negative part. In its positive aspect, it consists in the arts by which men aid each other and please each other. Individual advantage, both negative and positive, and individual pleasure, are its motives.

SENSITIVENESS.

Sensitiveness is much despised and blamed in the world. It may, indeed, be carried to excess; but its evil is chiefly to the possessor of it. How can amiability and affectionateness of disposition exist without it? A man, whom in popular language we term "a brute," is not sensitive!

THE POWER OF A LOOK.

Many a single look has inspired in the beholder love, friendship, hatred, fear, hope, envy, jealousy, disgust. Many a time by a single look you have gained a friend or made an enemy!

SYMPATHY NECESSARILY RARE.

How seldom, when we are cheerful, do we find others so! How often, when others are cheerful, are we depressed! What an obstruction is thus necessarily presented to the free communion of mind!

SMALL ANNOYANCES.

How many serious annoyances meet us in life, which yet, if we were to mention them, would appear to others too trifling for mention!

MALIGNITY.

As flies fasten on the sore of an animal and increase his pain, so do malignant people on the faults, the weaknesses, the misfortunes of others, and aggravate their vexations.

EFFECT OF LOCAL ASSOCIATIONS ON THE MIND.

A good example of the force of such associations is suggested in these words from Motley the historian: "We supped with some of the leading citizens of the gehenna, or torture-room, certainly not a locality calculated to inspire a healthy appetite." Similarly this law of local association is violated by tea-parties in chapels and divine worship in theatres! Few men have sufficient power of abstraction to rid their minds of the thoughts which particular places excite. In other words, few men are in this respect

Puritans or Quakers. The purpose of an assembly is aided when the thoughts suggested by the place of the assembly are in harmony with that purpose.

SHREWDNESS AND GOODNESS.

Shrewdness does not appear a very enviable quality. It is not cleverness, and seems to be allied to cunning, and to be somewhat alien from warmth of heart. Is it a true observation, or a mere fancy, that shrewd men, if good men, are a little odd in their character? If this remark be correct, it is an argument that in shrewdness there is something antagonistic to goodness.

THE WORLD AND ITS FOLLOWERS.

It is a trite remark, how ill the world treats its votaries. Its favours are but little in proportion to compliance with its ordinances. For example, the young, who mostly closely comply with them, often earn the title of "prigs," and the old of being "crafty" and "blasé." They do as they are told by the world, and are despised by it for their pains.

DIFFIDENCE OF THE LEARNED.

How is it that the learned are more commonly confounded when they come among the rich and ignorant, than the rich and ignorant lose confidence in the society of the learned?

DUPLICITY CONFIDENTIAL.

It is not uncommon with insincere people, in their dealings with others, to attempt to overreach them by placing themselves at their mercy. So acted Louis XI. to his rival the Duke of Burgundy in going to Peronne; so, I fear, did Charles I. in allowing the Long Parliament to pass the bill for its perpetual session. In both these cases, however, the policy signally failed, for the opposite party in each case took full advantage of the unwise reliance which had been placed upon it. Often a knave, in dealing with another man, will leave the matter in dispute to the honour, or pity, or complaisance of the other party, and in this way gain his point. A man of insincerity and duplicity is never more to be feared than when he is especially confidential, thus lulling your suspicions, perhaps even attracting your liking or sympathy, and so finding your weak side.

CUNNING.

It is wonderful that easily as cunning in all its forms can be detected, it should so often be employed, and even employed with

success; especially as when a man has once been detected in using any artifice, his whole character is thoroughly seen through by all who are cognizant of the detection. And cunning people are always especially sharp-sighted in detecting the cunning of others; for they judge by their own methods. It seems as if people often suffer themselves to be deceived with their eyes open. They seem to be flattered by the trouble taken to gain them over. The satirical Butler even ventures the assertion,

'Tis sure the pleasure is as great

Of being cheated as to cheat.

Cunning is very often the weapon of weakness, as in Orientals. So of falsehood generally. So, too, says Bacon, " Envy is proud weakness." It is the feeling of weakness that often makes women and old men tenacions of money. So much is weakness an occasion of vice.

INJUSTICE.

So many are the minor sorts of injustice committed in common life, that it seems almost impossible to recount them. This fact seems too obvious to mention, and yet it does much to embitter common life and to alienate heart from heart.

SOCIAL ESTIMATION.

There are two professions which, when worthily exercised, enjoy far less consideration than their nature and importance deserve; I mean that of the medical man, and that of the master of youth. The well-qualified medical man has gone through a laborious and painful apprenticeship; lives, if in regular practice, a very busy, anxious, and interrupted life, early and late, by night as well as by day; confers benefits of the highest and most sensible kinds, mitigation of pain, restoration of powers, prolongation of life; and yet, comparatively, he is less esteemed in society than a money-dealer, a stock-jobber, or a leading brewer; and, in most instances, is but slenderly remunerated. A schoolmaster, again, if well qualified for his profession, has fine qualities of head and heart, has been laboriously trained and lives a laborious life, while his profession is directed to the most important ends; yet he is often ridiculed and called a pedagogue. The cause of this unequal distribution of consideration and reward, deserves investigation. Perhaps the fault rests not wholly upon society, but is partly to be ascribed to the intrusion of unworthy members into these professions. The educational profession would be raised in dignity if some public credentials were obligatory on its members. But for this obligation, the medical profession would enjoy even far less social consideration than it has already.

CARLYLE AND DISRAELI.

I.

Of all men now living, the two whose biographies we should like most to have the charge of writing are Thomas Carlyle and Benjamin Disraeli. This may seem a strange, not to say an eccentric confession. And what would the Chelsea sage say to such a conjunction? He would forbid the banns, and pronounce the alliance unholy. We speak, however, in sober earnest. Strangers frequently perceive likenesses between members of the same family, of which the family themselves and their friends appear to be unconscious; we hold that Mr. Carlyle and Mr. Disraeli are shoots from the same stock, the stock of essentially great men, and we detect a strong family likeness between them, in spite of certain shades of difference in individual features. Nor can we think the resemblance fanciful. Let us compare the men for a moment; "look on this picture, and on that." Sincerity, according to Mr. Carlyle, is the fundamental element of genius; in this we entirely agree, and we might very well point to himself as an illustration of his proposition. We are aware that Mr. Carlyle would utterly scout the idea of Mr. Disraeli's sincerity-indeed, he has actually stigmatised him as "a conscious hypocrite." Every man is a phenomenon, and the greater the man the greater the phenomenon. With all Mr. Carlyle's wondrous faculty for piercing the secrets of human conduct, for getting at the "hidden man of the heart"-and we acknowledge that it amounts almost to an instinct-we think he has entirely failed to comprehend Mr. Disraeli; the ex-premier is a phenomenon which even his powerful telescope has not been able clearly and satisfactorily to explore. We believe-and it will take a vast amount of evidence to shake the conviction-that there is no more sincere man at this moment in the kingdom than Mr. Disraeli. Let Mr. Carlyle, or any other man, divesting his mind of every preconceived notion, studiously and impartially examine the written works and the political career of Mr. Disraeli, and he must come to that conclusion. Under much that seems artificial, theatrical, we can ever detect alike in his novels, in his speeches, in his political acts, purpose, earnestness, depth-the very children of sincerity.

Granted, then, that they are both men of undoubted sincerity, is there not in the general character of the genius of both a striking similarity? Which, out of all the varied and multifarious qualities that compose Mr. Carlyle's mind, are those that