to their level. This, for the most part, is the darling end of their enthusiasm.

Equality? How can we be idle enough to expect such a consummation, when nothing of the kind is visible to our senses in all the regions of Nature ?-the most constant of her laws being that of inequality. The fiat is pronounced on all that exist; it glows in all that we feel; in all that we understand.

In nothing does it speak more decidedly than in men. Who shall equalize their forms and countenances? Who shall define the myriads of combinations arising from their thoughts? the contrasts or unisons of their sensations? the modifications arising out of climate, education, habits of life, diseases, pains, enjoyments, aspirations, depressions, opportunities, wants, superfluities, defects, powers, capabilities, disabilities, prejudices, passions, and affections?

Nature, in fact, has stamped inequality on all that is created. It is even probable, that no two rays of light are strictly consonant either in form or in operation. 'How swift is the glance of the mind!

Compared with the speed of its flight,

The tempest itself lags behind,

And the swift-winged arrows of light.'

It is, nevertheless, certain, that not one of the satellites, planets, asteroids, comets, or suns, any more than the earth on which we stand, occupies the same point of space at the end even of our swiftest thought, that it did at the beginning.

CCVIII.

WHO POSSESS IN SEEING.

THIS is an exquisite faculty!

Bishop Berkeley was accustomed to say, that he cared little who had the keeping of an estate, as long as he could enjoy the sight of it, and be indulged in the privilege of walking over it. He seems, indeed, to have always been in the humour to exclaim with Goldsmith:

:

'Ye glitt'ring towns, with wealth and splendour crown'd,

Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion round,

Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale,

Ye bending swains, that dress the flow'ry vale,
For me your tributary stores combine;

Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine.'

There is not a property in the whole range of thought superior to this.

CCIX.

THREE ORDERS OF PERSONS.

SOME sink lower than they have any necessity: Cowper says most men do so.

It is the abject property of most,
That, being parcels of the common mass,
And destitute of means to raise themselves,
They sink, and settle lower than they need.'

Winter Morning's Walk.

Others aim at heights, and fancy that all things will be subservient to their wills. They would form a syllable without a vowel; and almost feel as if their breath

-Could still the winds,

Uncloud the sun, charm down the swelling sea,

And stop the floods of Heaven.'-Beaumont and Fletcher. Others know the strength and feel the beauty of another tale:

"Ah! who can tell how many a soul, sublime,
Has felt the influence of malignant star;

And waged with fortune an eternal war.
Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown,

And Poverty's unconquerable bar,

In life's low vale, remote, has pined alone,

Then dropp'd into the grave-unpitied and unknown!'

Beattie; Minstrel.

CCX.

WHOSE FORTUNES MAY BE COMPARED TO MINUETS.

SOME men's fortunes are like minuets; in which, after many turnings, approaches, and crossings, the parties come to the very spot on which they began the dance. Voltaire makes a similar comparison in regard to metaphysicians.

To the fortunes of some the sun never rises; to that of others it never appears to set. Every event of the former seems to resemble the asteroids; which are (erroneously) said to be little better than component parts of a dislocated planet.

With some,

Destiny, seeing them divine,

Spins all their fortune in a silken twine.'

Dryden; The Maiden Queen.

*

With others, fortune appears really beyond the bearing of a man! yet these Gallienus seems to have held in something like respect; for he gave a prize to one who always lost; esteeming it far less difficult to hit the mark than always to miss it.

The fortune of many reminds one of the spondylus ; a bivalve, which, after fastening its shells to the rocks at the bottom of the ocean, has them frequently bored through by the pholas, or some other species of marine insect.

the

CCXI.

WHOM FORTUNE RAISES, AS IF TO SHOW HER POWER AND CAPRICE.

LYDGATE describes Boccaccio as being astonished at appearance of Fortune.

'What may this meane? Is this a creature,
Or a monstre, transfourmed agayne nature,
Whose brenning eyne spercle of their lyght,,
As do the sterres the frosty wynter nyght .'

Some places are exceedingly fortunate. Florence, like Athens, rose to the height of its power in fifty years; and Bologna gave to the papal court ten popes, Trebellius Pollio in Gallieno, c. 12.

Of this translation there is a most beautifully illuminated copy among the Harleian MSS., No. 1766; see also No. 2278.

and a hundred cardinals. There is, however, generally speaking, an evident reason for all things. There is no victory, however extraordinary, but, when explained, is simple enough. Indeed, so evident, sometimes, are the causes, that an acute observer may witness their results even in the womb of futurity, with as much precision as a florist can detect the flowers of the future spring in the bulbs of the tulip, hyacinth, and hepatica, and the plant of the future year in the germs of the Daphne mezereon. Thus, when the Venetians conquered the Turks in the great battle of Lepanto, the victory was the result neither of prowess nor of skill. Their soldiers were more fresh and vigorous; they were better armed; the Turks using, generally, only bows and arrows. Their ships were much less open, and, therefore, more susceptible of defence, and more capable of attack. To these may be added an accidental circumstance the wind was favourable. Events, indeed, are seldom the results of the guilty caprices of Fortune.

It is certain, that what is the most probable is not always the most true: it is certain, that a paradox is presented in all human affairs; it is certain, that a shallow head has always a contracted aim; and that a comprehensive judgment has, almost equally frequent, an enlarged result for its contemplation, and for its exercise and reward a rich benevolence of heart. But no one can command. Honour pursues and leads the guilty; want depresses the kind and the considerate; the base usurp the dominion of fortune; the good die at thirty; and grey hairs frequently render venerable that countenance which, if guilt could blush, would indicate the consciousness of a thousand crimes.