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He who tells you the faults of others, intends to tell others. of your faults.
The orphan is not he who has lost his parents, but he who has neither talents nor education.
Avoid those who take pleasure in troubling others. There is danger of being burnt if you get too near the fire.
A good book is the best of friends. You may be counselled by it, when you have not a friend, in whom you can confide. It does not reveal your secrets, and it teaches you wisdom.
He, who would achieve any thing great in this short life, must apply himself to the work with such concentration of his forces, as, to idle spectators, who live only to amuse themselves, looks almost like insanity.
Happiness or misery is in the mind. It is the mind that lives; and the length of life ought to be measured by the number and importance of our ideas, and not by the number of our days. Never, therefore, esteem men merely on account of their riches or their station. Respect goodness, find it where you may. Honor talent, wherever you behold it unassociated with vice, but honor it most when accompanied with exertions, and especially, when exerted in the cause of truth and justice, and, above all things, hold it in honor, when it steps forward to protect defenceless innocence against the attacks of powerful guilt.
Knowledge.—De Witt Clinton. Pleasure is a shadow: wealth is vanity: and power is a pageant: but knowledge is ecstatic in enjoyment-perennial in fame, unlimited in space, and infinite in duration. In the performance of its sacred offices, it fears no danger-spares no expense-omits no exertion. It scales the mountainlooks into the volcano-dives into the ocean-perforates the earth-wings its flight into the skies encircles the globeexplores sea and land-contemplates the distant-examines the minute comprehends the great--ascends to the sublime.
-No place too remote for its grasp-no heavens too exalted for its touch.
Eternity.-Anon. 'Eternity is a depth which no geometry can measure, no arithmetic calculate, no imagination conceive, no rhetoric describe. The eye of a dving christian seems gifted to pen
etrate depths hid from the wisdom of philosophy. It looks athwart the dark valley without dismay, cheered by the bright scene beyond. It looks with a kind of chastened impatience to that land where happiness will be only holiness perfected. There all the promises of the gospel will be accomplished. There afflicted virtue will rejoice at its past trials, and acknowledge their subservience to its present bliss. There the secret self-denial of the righteous shall be recognised and rewarded; and all the hopes of the christian shall there have complete consummation.
A Good Conscience.-Brown. He, who has lived as man should live, is permitted to enjoy that best happiness which man can enjoy—to behold in one continued series, those years of benevolent wishes or of heroic sufferings, which are at once his merit and his reward. He is surrounded by his own thoughts and actions, which from the most remote distance, seem to shine upon him, wherever his glance can reach; as in some climate of perpetual summer, in which the inhabitant sees nothing but fruits and blossoms, and inhales only fragrance, and sunshine, and delight. It is in a moral climate as serene and cloudless, that the destined inhabitant of a still nobler world inoves on, in that glorious track, which has heaven before, and virtue and tranquillity behind; and in which it is scarcely possible to distinguish, in the immortal career, when the earthly part has ceased, and the heavenly part beginis.
A Beautiful Reflection.--ANON. It cannot be that earth is man's only abiding place. It cannot be that our life is a bubble, cast up by the ocean of eternity, to float a moment upon its waves, and sink into nothingness. Else why is it, that the high and glorious aspirations, which leap like angels from the temple of our hearts, are forever wandering about unsatisfied? Why is it that the rainbow and the cloud come over us with a beauty that is not of earth, and then pass off and leave us to muse upon their faded loveliness? Why is it that the stars which
hold their festival around the midnight throne,' are set above the grasp of our limited faculties; forever mocking us with their unapproachable glory. And finally, why is it that bright forms of human beauty are presented to our view and then taken from us; leaving the thousand streams of our affec
tions to flow back in Alpine torrents upon our hearts? We are born for a higher destiny than that of earth. There is a realm where the rainbow never fades-where the stars will be spread out before us like islands that slumber on the ocean, and where the beautiful beings, which here pass before us like shadows, will stay in our presence forever
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
How beautiful is night!
The Blind Teacher.-GRIFFIN. The life of Mr. Nelson was a striking exemplification of that resolution which conquers fortune. Total blindness, after a long gradual advance, came upon him about his twentieth year, when terminating his college course. It found him poor, and left him to all appearance both pennyless and wretched, with two sisters to maintain, without money, without friends, without a profession, and without sight.
Under such an accumulation of griefs, most minds would have sunk, but with hiin it was otherwise. At all times proud and resolute, his spirit rose at once into what might be termed a fierceness of independence. He resolved within himself to be indebted for support to no hand but his own. His classical education, which, from his feeble vision, had been necessarily imperfect, he now determined to complete, and immediately entered upon the apparently hopeless task, with a view to fit himself as a teacher of youth.
He instructed his sisters in the pronunciation of Greek and Latin, and employed one or other constantly in the task of reading aloud to him the classics, usually taught in the schools. A naturally faithful memory, spurred on by such strong excitement, performed its oft-repeated miracles; and in a space of time incredibly short, he became master of their contents, even to the minutest points of critical reading.
In illustration of this, the author remembers on one occasion, that a dispute having arisen between Mr. N. and the Classical Professor of the college, as to the construction of a passage in Virgil, from which his students were reciting, the Professor appealed to the circumstance of a comma in the sentence, as conclusive of the question. True,' said Mr. N. coloring with strong emotion; 'but permit me to observe,' added he, turning his sightless eye balls towards the book he held in his hand, 'that in my Heyne edition it is a colon, and not a comma.'
At this period, a gentleman who incidently became acquainted with his history, in a feeling somewhere between pity and confidence, placed his two sons under his charge, with a view to enable him to try the experiment. A few months' trial was sufficient; he then fearlessly appeared before the public, and at once challenged a comparison with the best established classical schools of the city.
The novelty and boldness of the attempt attracted general attention; the lofty confidence he displayed in himself excited respect; and soon his untiring assiduity, his real knowledge, and a burning zeal, which, knowing no bounds in his own devotion to his scholars, awakened somewhat of a .corresponding spirit in their minds, completed the conquest.