our intercourse with society of all classes. Each of these may exist without the other.

POLITICIANS-ADVICE TO-There is only one principle of public conduct: Do what you think is right, and take place and power as an accident. Upon any other plan office is shabbiness, labor, and sorrow.

POMPOSITY-There is nothing pompous gentlemen are so much afraid of as a little humor. It is like the objection of certain cephalic animalcula to the use of small-tooth combs,

66 Finger and thumb, precipitate powder, or any thing else you please; but for Heaven's sake no small-tooth combs!"

POPULARITY-The brightness of a falling star,-the fleeting splendor of a rainbow,—the bubble that is sure to burst by its very inflation. The politician, who, in these lunatic times, hopes to adapt himself to all the changes of public opinion, should qualify for the task, by attempting to make a pair of stays for the moon, which assumes a new form and figure every night.

POSSIBLE-In order to effect the utmost possible, we must be careful not to throw away our strength in straining after the impossible and the unattainable, lest we exemplify the fable of the dog and the shadow. "Search not into the things above thy strength.”

"Sors tua mortalis; non est mortale quod optas.”

POSTHUMOUS GLORY-A revenue payable to our ghosts; an ignis fatuus; an exhalation arising from the ashes and corruption of the body; the glow-worm of the grave; a Jack-o'-lantern, of which a skeleton is the Jack, and the lantern a dark one; protracted oblivion; the short twilight that survives the setting of the vital sun, and is presently quenched in the darkness of night. "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust," may be said of our fame, as well as of our frame: one is

buried very soon after the other. When the rattling earth is cast upon our coffin, it sends up a hollow sound, which, after a few faint echoes, dies, and is buried in oblivious silence. That fleeting noise is our posthumous renown. Living glory is the advantage of being known to those whom you don't know; posthumous glory is enjoying a celebrity from which you can derive no enjoyment, and enabling every puppy in existence to feel his superiority over you by repeating the old dictum, that a living dog is better than a dead lion, or by quoting from Shakspeare--"I like not such grinning honors as Sir Walter hath!"

POSTS AND PLACES--It was a complaint of D'Alembert, that men so completely exhausted their industry in canvassing for places, as to have none left for the performance of their duties. Query-Have public men improved in this respect since the days of D'Alembert?

POVERTY-To the generous-minded, it is the greatest evil of a narrow fortune that they must sometimes taste the humiliation of receiving, and can rarely enjoy the luxury of conferring benefits. None can feel for the poor so well as the poor, and none, therefore, can so well appreciate the painfulness of being unable to relieve the distress with which they so keenly sympathize.

Riches, it was once observed, only keep out the single evil of poverty. True! was the reply-but how much good do they let in! Whatever may be the talents of a poor man, they will not have their fair share of influence; for few will respect the understanding that is of so little advantage to its owner, and still fewer is the number of those who will doubt the abilities that have made a fool rich. Nevertheless, there are many chances in favor of the sufferers under impecuniosity; for, if Necessity be the mother of Invention, Poverty is the father of Industry; and the child of such parents has a much better prospect of achieving honors and distinction than the rich man's son. Chief Justice Kenyon once said to a wealthy friend, who asked his opinion as to the probable suc

Angelina.-Will my darling Edwin grant his Angelina a boon?

Edwin.-Is there any thing on earth her Edwin would not do for his pet? Name the boon, oh, dearest, name it.

Angelina.-Then, love, as we dine by ourselves to-morrow, let us, oh! let us have roast pork, with plenty of sage and onions!

cess of his son at the bar, "Let him spend his own fortune forthwith; marry, and spend his wife's, and then he may be expected to apply with energy to his profession.”

PRACTICE does not always make perfect. Curran, when told by his physician, that he seemed to cough with more difficulty, replied, "That is odd enough, for I have been practising all night."

PRAISE That which costs us nothing, and which we are, nevertheless, the most unwilling to bestow upon others, even where it is most due, though we sometimes claim it the more for ourselves, the less we deserve it; not reflecting that the breath of self-eulogy soils the face of the speaker, even as the censer is dimmed by the smoke of its own perfume.

Which of us would desiderate the expressive silence recommended by Scaliger as the most appropriate compliment to Virgil? "De Virgilio nunquam loquendum; nam omnes omnium laudes superat." Few people thank you for praising the qualities they really possess; to win their hearts, you must eulogize those in which they are deficient. As this is the most subtle of all flattery, so is it the most acceptable. In general, we have little reason to be grateful to those who speak the strict truth of us, and we are the more bound to acknowledge the kindness of those who flatter us by agreeable falsehoods. Stratonice, the bald wife of Seleucus, gave six hundred crowns to a poet who extolled the beauty and profusion of her hair. One thing I would counsel to authorsnever to make any allusion to themselves. If from sheer modesty, they speak disparagingly of their own works, their averments are set down for gospel; if they assume the smallest modicum of merit, their claim is cited as an instance of inordinate vanity. Silence is sapience.

The best praise which you can bestow on an author, or an artist, is to show that you have studied and understand his works. When Augustin Caracci pronounced a long discourse in honor of the Laocoon, all were astonished that his brother Annibal said nothing of that celebrated chef-d'œuvre. Divining