Firmness is a virtue that must enter largely into the composition of every valuable individual character.

It is absolutely indispensable to draw out into their proper sphere, and develop in their full proportions all the other elements. How many persons are there in the world whose intelligence is quite. sufficient to show them the path of duty, and whose honest natures incline them to pursue it, but whose pusillanimity is such that they are overcome by every obstacle, real or imaginary.

By firmness I mean not only a contempt for physical danger when duty requires it, but also a disregard of every cause or consequence calculated to induce a departure from the line of action we know to be the right one.

The soldier is firm who stands by his colors in the hour of battle.

The statesman has the same need of firmness when in the Legislative hall he finds some unworthy popular clamor to be resisted, some deep laid plot of treachery to be exposed, some dear object of his own to be sacrificed upon the altar of the public good.

In fact it has been deemed by some much easier to brave a peril of the former than the latter kind.

It has not unfrequently happened that the man who could dare the "bellowing cannon's mouth" with unblenching resolution, has fallen a ready victim to the first moral danger that presented itself.

Tell us we are to be assailed, and we promptly summon all our latent energies to our support.

It may be this is the reason why we more successfully contend with mere personal perils, while moral dangers more insidious in their approach, more questionable in their shape, more constant in their assaults, more variable in their modes of attack, will often undermine and sap the strength of a citadel, which had otherwise withstood all the fury of fire and sword.

Of this truth the conduct of Benedict Arnold is a melancholy illustration. Of General Arnold, Dr. Ramsey in his history of the Revolution thus speaks:

'He had been among the first to take up arms against Great 'Britain and to widen the breach between the parent state and the "Colonies. His distinguished military talents had procured him 'every honor a grateful country could bestow. Poets and painters 'had marked him as a suitable subject for the display of their re'spective abilities. He possessed an elevated seat in the hearts of 'his countrymen, and was in the full enjoyment of a substantial 'fame for the purchase of which the wealth of worlds would have been insufficient."

But withal, General governed by principle. otism, there lurked an

Arnold was a man whose life was not Beneath the splendid' exterior of patriitching palm a love of money, and a

love of dissipation, which, notwithstanding his reputation, rendered his character, in reality, miserably small and contemptible.

It could not be expected that the man who would resort to paltry peculations and frauds upon a quarter-master's department, could stand up longer in defence of his country, than he found his private interest in the account.

So true it is, that virtue is always consistent with herself, and that he who is faithless in one respect, should never be trusted in another. That such a man, however brilliant his achievements or bright his prospects, should eventually terminate his career in infamy, seems to be nothing more nor less, than the dictate of that eternal justice, which rules in the moral universe of God.

If the fate of General Arnold suggested no other reflections than such as were personal to himself, the littleness of his character would still be strongly marked.

Aside from all considerations of duty, and looking merely to the question of policy, as bearing on the destiny of the individual man, how much wiser was the conduct of Joseph Reid, who on receiving a letter from the British Commissioner Johnston, attempting to bribe him as a member of the continental congress, promptly replied: 'I am not worth purchasing, but such as I am, the King of Great Britain is not rich enough to do it.'

Personal integrity is to be maintained by repelling indignantly and instantly every insinuation of a base, unworthy motive.

Once the man pauses, to consider whether he shall perpetrate an act he knows must degrade him, his ruin is already effected. On the other hand a man may sink in the estimation of the world, he may be frowned upon by former friends, his country may turn away distrustingly from him, he may even be constrained to 'wander upon foreign strands' and to break the bitter bread of the exile. Yet if he retains in his own breast a consciousness of unsullied purity, he possesses a treasure worth more than all he has lost. He carries with him a peace of mind, a calm serenity of soul, which will prove a fortress to his happiness, against which the storms of adversity may beat and blow in vain.

Such a man may live like Aristides the Just, to return in some dark hour of the public affairs, and by his timely service, make glad the bosom of an ungrateful country.

Let it be conceded, the honest man may not always reach the pinnacle of earthly honor. The avenues to that place may be too impure for his passage through them; or the follies of the world may have made the prize an imaginary one, unworthy his regard. True greatness, it may be remarked, lies not in the vanities of men, it is not with the pageant or the pomp, but with the man himself, and gifts of place and power can not confer it.

Some one has asked, what can more enhance the gratification

of success, than the reflection of having attained a noble end by noble means.

But who shall value the soothing powers of that cordial, which conscious integrity pours into the wounds of defeat.

How heavenly soft must the memory of its motives rest upon that generous spirit, that has nobly struggled to maintain the cause of truth and gone down beneath the reproaches of evil times and evil men.

One such spirit, I fancy, even in the solitude of its fall, shedg more luster upon human nature, more reflects the native dignity f man, than all the congregated sycophants and parasites, that have basked in the popular favor and sunk somewhere between a gibbet and a throne from Adam down.

Here then, is the model of the great character, based upon the everlasting principles: knowledge, truth and courage.

Such a character will not only perceive the path of duty plainly for himself; but will be able to point it out to others by every cogent reason and delightful attraction.

It is not denied that one differently constituted may attain to temporary success; but it is believed, that nothing else will bear the touch of time.

It is in view of these grand and interesting features of personal character, that the great English dramatist puts into the mouth of Norfolk in Richard II. the following sentiment:

'A jewel in a ten times barred up chest

Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast.'

Boldness of spirit and honesty of purpose are twin stars of the same constellation.

Revolving in that orbit, for which they were intended by Heaven, they sail on in bright and glorious unison, reflecting the light of each others beams and giving beauty, stability and worth to the intelligent mind.

Separate them, and unlike the Pleiades, they are lost forever. The one falls at once from its shining sphere into an abyss of impenetrable darkness. The other with a wild irregular flight rushes headlong to its ruin and often leaves ruin behind it.

Mere boldness of spirit when it constitutes the leading feature of the character, forms the most despicable of beings. The man is the constant victim of his passions. He is grasping, insidious, revengeful. In whatever sphere he may move; he will be found sacrificing justice to expediency. In private life, a dangerous friend, an ungenerous enemy. In public a soulless tyrant or insinuating demagogue, as circumstances may advise.

If unfortunately for mankind genius should lend the impetuosity of its fires to a soul thus eminently endowed, we might expect to find him tortured with a restless, a consuming ambition, and did occasion offer, seeking to play the 'game of empire:' and

whether in peace or war sustaining about the same relation to society, that a volcano does to the surrounding country, whose importance is derived only from its power to terrify or destroy, and whose light is emitted only to exhibit its desolations.

MENTION OF DE STAEL.

During the glorious reign of Napoleon, the French occupied themselves chiefly with conquests and victories: on that account letters were but slightly cultivated, and those who acquired any fame by their literary works, distinguished themselves without the influence of the sovereign.-At the head of these names, must be placed those of Chateaubriand and Madame de Stael, one of the most wonderful women that ever lived.

D. LEVI, (ALVARES.)

KNIGHT OF THE LEGION OF HONOR, &c. &c.

GERMANY.

INFLUENCE OF ENTHUSIASM ON HAPPINESS.

From the French of Madame De Stael.

By Bernard A. Pratte, Esq.

It is time to speak of happiness! I have guarded this word with extreme care, because since almost a century, it has been especially placed in pleasures so gross, in a life so egoistical, in calculations so contracted, that even its image is profaned. But it can be said however, with confidence, that of all sentiments, the one which procures most happiness, is enthusiasm; the only one which gives us satisfaction, the only one which teaches us how to support human destiny in all the situations in which our lot may be cast. It is in vain that we endeavor to content ourselves with material enjoyments alone; the soul will return from all sides; pride, ambition, self-love, all that, it is still the soul although mingled with a poisoned breath. What a miserable existence is it, however to see men almost as artful towards themselves, as towards others, and crushing the generous emotions which spring from the heart, as a malady of the imagination, which the open air must dissipate! -What a poor existence also is that of many men who are satisfied with not doing any evil, and consider the source of noble actions and great thoughts as a species of folly!-They confine themselves through vanity, to a tenacious mediocrity, which they could have rendered accessible to the lights without, they condemn themselves to that monotony of ideas, to that coldness of sentiment, which

permits the days to pass by without reaping from them either fruits, or progress, or recollections; and if time did not furrow their features, what traces would they have of its passage? Were we not to grow old, and die, what serious reflection would ever enter into their heads? Some reasoners pretend that enthusiasm disgusts one with ordinary life, and that, being unable to remain in that disposition, it is better never to have experienced it: and why then have they consented to be young, even to live, since these do not always last? Why then have they loved, if such fortune has ever happened to them, since death could sever them from the objects of their affection? What a sad economy is that of the soul! it has been given to us, to be developed, prfected, lavished even for a noble end. The more life is stupified, the nearer do we approach material existence, and the more, it will be said, do we diminish the power of suffering. This argument seduces many men; it consists in endeavoring to exist as little as possible. However, in degradation, there is always a pang which we cannot account for, which pursues us incessantly in secret: ennui, shame and the fatigue which it causes, are invested by vanity with the form of impertinence and disdain; but it is very seldom that we settle down peaceably into that kind of dry and limited being, which, when external prosperity abandons us, leaves us without any resources in ourselves. Man has a conscience for the beautiful as well as for the good, and the privation cf the one makes him feel the void, just as the deviation from the other, remorse.

Enthusiasm is accused of being fleeting; it would be too happy an existence, could we retain such beautiful emotions; but it is because these are easily dissipated, that we ought to busy ourselves to preserve them. Poetry and the fine arts serve to develop in us that happiness of illustrious origin, which buoys up the dejected hearts, and substitutes for that uneasy satiety of life, the habitual sentiment of the divine harmony of which nature and ourselves form a part. There is no duty, no pleasure, no sentiment, which does not borrow from enthusiasm I know not what prestiges agreeing with the pure charm of truth.

All men rush to the rescue of their country, when circumstances require it; but if they be inspired by the enthusiasm of their country, by what beautiful emotions are they actuated! The land which gave them birth, the land of their forefathers, the sea which bathes the rocks,*) old associations, cherished hope, everything rises up before them as a call to the field, every pulsation of their heart is a thought of love and pride. That land is the gift of God to men who can defend it, and to women who for it, are ready to surrender to danger their brothers, their husbands and their sons. At the approach of the perils which menace it, a fever without chill or delir

*) It is easy to perceive that I intend, by this phrase or by those which follow to designate England; in fact I never could speak of war with enthusiasm, without representing it as that of a free nation fighting for its independence. De Stael.