always followed from some apparently unimportant cause. The discovery of the law of Gravitation and the history of the Steam Engine are familiar examples. And it is not the less true of Literature. To the running away of a merry scape-grace we owe the philosophy of Hamlet, the truth of Timon, the morality of Lear. The dignity of scorn arising from an unreturned passion at once made a lord a poet, and a libertine a hero. To a glass of Scotch whiskey, or the lips of a Highland maiden, we owe the finest ballads in the world. And so of Art. Surely it was no accident that brought the father of the great line of painters to Giotto; and unimportant as the influence of the Fornarina little understood as it is may seem to have been on the mind of Raffaelle, how know we what we owe to her impassioned and devoted mind. How fortunate too, for the world, was it that the wife and children of Correggio were beautiful; for what lofty intelligence-when unstained by the gross passions of earth-breathes through the spirit of beauty. O these unimportant influences of the world!—these unnoticed, despised agents in all that is great or good. How truthfully do they tell us that Genius belongs to all. That to inspire, to solace, to appreciate is as much its province as the handling of the chisel, or the mastery of the lyre.

Monopolised by no especial climate, country or complexionit belongs to no particular class. The veriest boor does something cleverly give him his opportunity and he becomes famous. If this truth were more widely believed and trusted in, it would indeed make the "whole world kin," it would unite the Apollo with the Cyclops. And where all had a common interest in its discovery, all would recognize its power. We should hear no more of unassisted merit, of unaided genius. We should have fewer Kirke Whites; but we should have more Tennysons. The artizan who beheld in himself the respected creator of some new comfort; the mechanic, who in himself saw the esteemed originator of some new application of science; would gladly hail the Thought-Laborers, unweaving the tangled thread of idea, or in their potent influence, guiding the passions into their healthful and natural course.

And would rank or wealth suffer in this universal appreciation of the intellect? Assuredly not. The man who can make the laws a lord of the earth should make, or give of his riches with the dignity belonging to such a steward of God, is no common The practice of the virtues requires as much mind, however different in quality, as the creation of a beautiful Thought

man.

either in marble or sound. Genius cannot stoop or soar-it breathes through creation-in every current that passes through the air, whether it perfumes violets, or rocks the eyrie of the eagle. The straw of Galilleo has as high a value as the lever of Archimedes.

Let us despise nothing. We shall soon learn from some passage in our own life, that as Good exists in the most vile, Genius is to be found in the most humble, and whether it manufacture a pin or span a river, improve a plough or write the Iliad, it is equally worthy of recognition and brotherhood.

THE village of Glen-Beville was situated in a beautiful and extensive valley embosomed amid lofty hills that were thickly wooded with trees; through these a river found its bed, and fell by a high cascade into a basin below that had the appearance of a miniature lake, which growing narrower at the extremity, continued its course by many a sinuosity the extent of the valley, leaving it by the single opening to wander on the country beyond. The cottages of the peasantry were prettily scattered on either side the stream, the neat abodes of honest industry and humble worth. It was evident that the minds of these villagers were more elevated than is generally the case, as if they had been impressed with ideas of beauty, and had shewn it in the arrangement of their dwellings; the cultivation of flowers received the attention of their leisure-hours, their herbs and vegetables were always early, and their fruit-trees were well cared for, and yielded abundantly blessings to the husbandman.

When the laborer returned to his home his voice was not raised in harsh and unholy words; he was not seen standing

idly at his door, following that now common practice of smoking. Nor did he resort to the village inn to part with his earnings for the noxious draught that ends in the dregs of bitterness. He sat out-side his cottage door employed usefully, either in constructing some simple article of furniture, in weaving mats, baskets, and other saleable things, or was cheerfully cultivating his little garden.

The village church stood on a green where grew some noble sycamores and cypresses, and one old oak tree of vast dimensions and venerable aspect, looked as if linked to the sacred edifice in date. At a short distance was the house of the curate, Sydney Ravensworth, one who was an honor to his profession. His Cambridge life had been a bright era, and Caius college might boast of this its successful student, who knew that his calling demanded not merely the strongest energies of his mind, but the devotion of his heart and soul. He was the second son of Colonel Ravensworth, and of an ancient family. His relations were gay and fashionable. He had lived among them, but not of them in disposition-" In a shroud of thoughts that were not their thoughts"-he sought for something higher than the unsatisfactory vanities of the world. Nobility of feeling raised him to search for means to display that purity of heart, and loftiness of sentiment, so pre-eminently his, which threw a halo round his head, and imparted its virtues to those beneath his pastoral care. How soon did the weeds vanish from the hearts of the cottagers of Glen- Beville after the arrival of Ravensworth, and the beautiful flowers of holiness and reformation, shed their virtues and fragrance on what had been a wild and unprofitable spot. When he walked out among them, how touching was the interest evinced by both, the friendly and benign smile of the superior, the answering look of love and reverence on the part of the peasantry. Nor did the respect he won for himself rest only with the humble members of his flock, he was esteemed by the wealthy and aristocratic, and the noble traits of his disposition were sincerely appreciated by the Lord of the Manor, Mr. Montgomery, and his presence at Beville-Court was ever deemed a pleasure, and an acquisition to its home circle and sumptuous entertainments. The Montgomery's were a kind, feeling, and hospitable family, that entered much into society, but with themselves, their friends and guests, there seemed to prevail a perfect harmony and courtesy which could alone ensure an endurance of intimacy and regard.

Courteous manners are indispensable to mankind in general in their intercourse one with another, and never more so than to strangers, those who are not connected to us by any ties of sociability, but come fortuitously before our notice, and are seen and gone in a moment. Even in that brief space, pleasing and gracious manners are grateful to the heart, and agreeable to the eye, and certainly leave favorable impressions behind.

In our friendships we ought never to infringe upon that dignity each man claims as his prerogative to preserve for himself without encroachment, and to be considered as part of his honor. It is an understood and mutual respect. Once permit the boundary to be attacked, and farther breaches will follow, until our consequence gradually declines, and at last our distinguishing mark becomes totally eclipsed, leaving us under the cloud and keeping us as grovellers upon earth.

It is not necessary to set up arrows of defence before us “Like quills upon the fretful pocupine," to be our safe-guard in our onward path in the high-ways and by-ways of life; and to be tenacious of every word lest it should in any way contain that which might be interpreted to our disparagement

"For many a shaft at random sent,

Finds aim the archer little meant."

So many an expression and opinion is given without any particular personal reference; therefore to be happy in our own minds, and to feel a good-will and peace to all, is not to live on the look out for offence, and not always to regard remarks that reach us as having an oblique, or direct aim at ourselves.

The necessity of courtesy extends to those who are the nearest in connection; and should be maintained with our relations and at home, as well as in our public deportment. The good effects arising from its observance, will be evident, and harmonize and throw a grace over our actions and conversation. It is not intended to make us formal to each other; for home courtesy is that kind and proper feeling which prompts an equal share of anxiety to please, to assist, to participate in the joys and cares of the present, to exclude all selfishness and wilfulness, to respect each other as equals and fellow-mortals, and more so from the existing ties of consanguinity. Then will affection flourish, and greater happiness smile upon our social hearths.

There has been a long digression from the story; but as the foregoing were the sentiments of Sydney Ravensworth, they are admissible here.

The family at Beville-Court consisted of the proprietor and his wife with one son and two daughters. Both the latter were handsome, yet different in beauty and disposition. Ethel was the elder, her countenance was pleasing, but with a variable expression, occasionally she appeared thoughtful, and reserve came over her manner; she was not one to win an immediate interest and regard, still there was that that made one wish to elicit her powers of mind and feeling, to understand a heart that sought to veil itself.

Clementine, to a prosopoleptic view, had greatly the advantage of her sister, her charms were more allicient, her flow of conversation more ready, her vivacity fascinated, as it never exceeded the bounds of grace and elegance. She conveyed by her manner, an idea to those in her society that she was pleased with them, and desired to render herself agreeable likewise; consequently, if the preference between the sisters were felt or expressed by such as only knew them both equally, then Clementine was sure to rank superior. Can we wonder that Ravensworth had a heart that yielded to her beauty and accomplishments? Her figure was of the proper standard and finely moulded, with small hands and feet; her face was very expressive, regular features, dark and flashing eyes, with beautifully arched and fringed eye-brows and eye-lids; she wore her hair in the most graceful ringlets; nature had gifted her with a

melodious voice and an excellent ear for music. So was added another fascination to the graces of her face and form.

Apparently, Ravensworth had an equal regard for Ethel and Clementine. He was too kind-hearted to permit his secret preference to be perceived by the former, and moreover he depreciated his own qualifications of mind and person, and this humble opinion suggested to him that Ethel, though very amiable and always cordial in her welcome to him, was yet inaccessible in point of love-that if she ever condescended to indulge that passion, it would be directed to some eminent character or titled lover. Indeed, he thought it might be called. a master-stroke to turn her soul to love, to unlock its secrets, and obtain free and unreserved admission into her heart.

With Clementine he had more frequent converse, and often would they turn to some favorite subject for an argument; or should a new topic have been introduced during one of the numerous dinner parties given at Beville-Court, Ravensworth and Clementine would renew it in private, and the lady would coquetishly persist for sometime in maintaining her judgment to