and even sufferings shared together, becomes the balm, the consolation, and the treasure of life. Such a friendship is inestimable, and should be preserved with the utmost care; for it is utterly impossible for any art ever to transfer to another, the effect of all those accumulated associations, which endear to us the friend of our early years.

These considerations should likewise induce us to show a tender indulgence to our friends, even for those faults, which most sensibly wound the feeling heart,—a growing coldness and indifference. These may be brought on by many circumstances, which do not imply a bad heart; and, provided we do not, by bitter complaints and an open rupture, preclude the possibility of a return, in a more favorable conjuncture, the friendships of our youth may knit again, and be cultivated with more genuine tenderness than ever.

I must here take occasion to observe, that there is nothing, young people ought to guard against with more care, than a parade of feeling, and a profusion of exaggerated protestations. These may sometimes proceed from the amiable warmth of a youthful heart; but they much oftener flow from the affectation of sentiment, which is both contemptible and morally wrong.

All that has been said of the duties or of the pleasures of friendship, in its most exalted sense, is applicable, in a proportionate degree, to every connexion, in which there exists any portion of this generous affection. So far as it does exist, in the various relations of life, so far it renders

them interesting and valuable; and, were the capacity for it taken away from the human heart, it would find a dreary void, and starve, amidst all the means of enjoyment the world could pour out before it.

CONFIDENCE AND MODESTY.

A FABLE.

WHEN the gods, knowing it to be for the benefit of mortals, that the few should lead, and that the many should follow, sent down, into this lower world, Ignorance and Wisdom, they decreed to each of them an attendant and guide, to conduct their steps, and facilitate their introduction. To Wisdom, they gave Confidence, and Ignorance they placed under the guidance of Modesty. Thus paired, the parties travelled about the world, for some time, with mutual satisfaction.

Wisdom, whose eye was clear and piercing, and commanded a long reach of country, followed her conductor with pleasure and alacrity. She saw the windings of the road, at a great distance; her foot was firm, her ardor was unbroken, and she ascended the hill, or traversed the plain, with speed and safety.

Ignorance, on the other hand, was short-sighted and timid. When she came to a spot where the road branched out in different directions, or

was obliged to pick her way through the obscurity of the tangled thicket, she was frequently at a loss, and was accustomed to stop, till some one appeared, to give her the necessary information, which the interesting countenance of her companion seldom failed to procure her.

Wisdom, in the mean time, led by a natural instinct, advanced towards the temple of Science and Eternal Truth. For some time, the way lay plain before her, and she followed her guide, with unhesitating steps; but she had not proceeded far, before the paths grew intricate and entangled; the meeting branches of the trees spread darkness over her head, and steep mountains barred her way, whose summits, lost in clouds, ascended beyond the reach of mortal vision. At every new

turn of the road, her guide urged her to proceed; but, after advancing a little way, she was often obliged to measure back her steps, and often found herself involved in the mazes of a labyrinth, which, after exercising her patience and her strength, ended but where it began.

She

In the mean time, Ignorance, who was naturally impatient, could but ill bear the continual doubts and hesitation of her companion. hated deliberation, and could not submit to delay. At length, it so happened, that she found herself on a spot, where three ways met, and no indication was to be found, which might direct her to the right road. Modesty advised her to wait; and she had waited till her patience was exhausted. At that moment, Confidence, who was in

disgrace with Wisdom, for some false steps he had led her into, and who had just been discarded from her presence, came up, and offered himself to be her guide. He was accepted. Under his auspices, Ignorance, naturally swift of foot, and who could, at any time, have outrun Wisdom, boldly pressed forward, pleased and satisfied with her new companion. He knocked at every door, visited castle and convent, and introduced his charge to many a society, whence Wisdom found herself excluded.

Modesty, in the mean time, finding she could be of no further use to her charge, offered her services to Wisdom. They were mutually pleased with each other, and soon agreed never to separate. And, ever since that time, Ignorance has been led by Confidence, and Modesty has been found in the society of Wisdom.

THE OAK.

Look at that spreading Oak, the pride of the village green! its trunk is massy, its branches are strong. Its Its roots, like crooked fangs, strike deep into the soil, and support its huge bulk. The birds build among the boughs; the cattle repose beneath its shade; the neighbors form groups beneath the shelter of its green canopy. The old men point it out to their children, but they themselves remember not its growth generations of

men, one after another, have been born, and died, and this son of the forest has remained the same, defying the storms of two hundred Winters.

Yet this large tree was once a little acorn; small in size, insignificant in appearance; such as you are now picking up upon the grass beneath it. Such an acorn, whose cup can only contain a drop or two of dew, contained the whole Oak. All its massy trunk, all its knotty branches, all its multitude of leaves, were in that acorn; it grew, it spread, it unfolded itself, by degrees, it received nourishment from the rain, and the dews, and the well-adapted soil, but it was all there. Rain, and dews, and soil, could not raise an Oak, without the acorn; nor could they make the acorn any thing but an Oak.

The mind of a child is like the acorn; its powers are folded up, they do not yet appear, but they are all there. The memory, the judgement, the invention, the feeling of right and wrong, are all in the mind of a child; of a little infant just born; but they are not expanded, you cannot perceive them.

Think of the wisest man you ever knew or heard of; think of the greatest man; think of the most learned man, who speaks a number of languages, and can find out hidden things; think of a man who stands like that tree, sheltering and protecting a number of his fellow-men, and then say to yourself, the mind of that man was once like mine; his thoughts were childish, like my thoughts, nay, he was like the babe just born,