think and act by the light of some historical experiences, that the most important process takes place in regard to the formation of the character of the man. You very seldom find a thoroughly selfish person under the age of twenty: when you do, the bad quality is to be traced back through two generations. At twenty we begin to grow selfish and suspicious, or generous and hopeful, upon principle. An amiable and noble young person may lose every happy moral feature before the age of twenty-five is reached, if surrounded by evil influences. All the love and candour and trustfulness of youth go to form a bright picture traced by God's own sun on the canvass of the mind, but the exposure of these five critical years may blacken it all to a resemblance of charcoal. After twenty-five, little short of a miracle will completely change character. If a man who has arrived at that age has had a tolerably good opportunity of seeing the world, that social world in which he will spend his days, the qualities of his mind and heart have become fixed: in the case of woman-who in all respects earlier

arrives at maturity than man- -the decisive. formation of principle and habit has taken place somewhat sooner. Faults of temper and manner are sometimes acquired affections that may still be cured by kindness and study, but the radical principles that rule general conduct have already been formed as they will remain till death.

BEAUTY.

Beauty is the paradise of all time. Beauty is the spirit of Nature peering through the gloom of sin. Beauty is a congealed dream of Heaven. Beauty is the sculptured phantasm of innocence. Beauty is Nature's memory of Eden. Beauty is visible music. Beauty is an engraven word of God; - only that which is beautiful agrees with the thought of God. An entirely beautiful face is an oasis in the desert of Metempsychosis. No churlish moralist ever uttered a falser maxim than that "Beauty is but skin deep." Why Beauty is so deep that nobody has ever got to the bottom of it. But I never believe people who disprize Beauty, for they're not sincere; if I

thought they really were, I should almost despair of their getting to Heaven.

READING CHARACTER.

The amusing quackeries of professed character-readers are mainly shades of this truththere is an idiosyncracy pertaining to every man who is not degenerated into an ape which unwinds itself more or less perceptibly in everything he does or says, in every fact with regard to him. In each word, look, action, attitude, character reveals itself.

"There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lips, Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body."

The most icy negation has in it something positive: the words cast a shadow behindthat defines them. Gradually character steals out. No force or resolve can stop it. It oozes from every pore; it exhales in every breath. Every device has passed through the same mould. A specific tinge permeates every work. The profoundest guile mirrors the hypocrite. Character can never be completely hid, but gleams through a thousand

minute clefts, and is evident in a thousand unheeded trifles.

MANLINESS.

Courage to stand one's ground, to defend one's opinions and be true to them, to repel an aggression and denounce an affront to one'sself from any quarter-that is some mark of the robust nature which belongs to a "man; but the manliness that is shown most in reference to the rights and hopes of others, that will bear anything and forbear long rather than peril another's welfare—this is the rarer and more valuable virtue.

HONESTY.

There are three kinds of honesty, which are as distinct in their nature and as different in their value as tin, and mercury, and gold. There is the honesty of the man who, having had some experience of life, has become convinced that truthfulness of speech and rectitude of conduct prove in the long run the best means of getting on in the world. That is the honesty of the belly. It is not worth

much. There are sure to be odd times and peculiar conjunctures of circumstances in which the individnal who is merely made honest by a general belief that honesty is the best policy will be of opinion that dishonesty is the best policy. Secondly, there is the honesty of the man who would not for the world do anything to damage his character in the circle in which he moves, but who by the light laughing manner in which he treats what is called the "sharp practice" of others shows that he is not deterred from those dishonesties that are not amenable to the law by abhorrence of them on their own account. That is the honesty of the eye-a pale glittering kind of honesty, that you may scratch away from the man with your thumb-nail as you could the quicksilver from a lookingglass. Depend on it, there is little sterling honesty about people who habitually listen to accounts of the deceptions and petty rogueries of others without reproving them, treating them as jokes. Thirdly, there is the honesty of the man who would scorn to speak an untrue word, to break a promise, or to gain the