to evidence that there is no pain, aud yet, sir, you know there is pain, and I know there is a soul." The doctor appeared confounded and walked off.

REAL BENEVOLENCE.

THE late Archbishop of Bordeaux was remarkable for his tolerance and enlightened benevolence. The following anecdote will not be read without interest. "My lord," said a person to him one day,-" here is a poor woman come to ask charity-what do you wish to do for her?" "How old is she?" "Seventy."-" Is she in great distress?" "She says so."-"She must be relieved; give her twenty-five francs."-" Twenty-five francs! my lord, it is too much, especially as she is a Jewess."" A Jewess ?" "Yes, my lord.” “O, that makes a great difference, give her fifty francs, then, and thank her for coming."

GOOD CHARACTER.

A young man who is entering upon life with a fair reputation, feels that he possesses a treasure that is above all price; and he will be likely to guard it from the contamination of evil; he will also be excited to make higher and still higher attainments in excellence. Character is like stock in trade-the more of it a man possesses, the greater are his facilities for making addition to it: or, it is like an accumulating fund, constantly increasing in value, and daily acquiring to itself fresh accessions of stability and worth.

THE THREE TEACHERS.

To my question, how he could, at his age, have mastered so many attainments, his reply was, that with his three teachers. "every thing might be learned, common sense alone excepted, the peculiar and rarest gift of Providence." These three teachers were Necessity, Habit and Time. At his starting in life. Necessity had told him that if he hoped to live, he

must! labour; Habit had turned the labour into an indulgence; and Time gave every man an hour for everything, unless he chose to yawn it away.

MIRROR OF LIFE.

The following observations on a looking glass, made at an advanced period of life, convey a moral reflection, which, if duly weighed, may prove a salutary warning against indulging those deceitful dreams, which too frequently grow on the mirthful scenes and careless indolence of youth. "This piece of furniture brings before me an epitome of my life. When I first looked on it, this identical article, being then such as it now appears, presented to my view a rosy-faced laughing little boy. A few years passed away, and it reflected the image of a growing heedless youth, full of health, and exhibiting all the animation of joyous hope.-At a subsequent period I again looked on it, and saw a man. Boundless expectation had now been brought down to calm satisfaction. I had no further good to expect; the first throb of exultation was over, but fear and distrust were unknown. More advanced in years, I saw in it one of middle-aged appearance whose aspect was soured by the disappointments and vexations of the world, but yet covered with hope, and elate with concious integrity. Now this object which originally reflected my infant mirth, gives me to see a picture of declining life, a faded remnant of humanity, and a living record of mournful error."

DR. BLAIR AND THE REV. R. WALKER.

The late Dr. Blair when concluding a public discourse, in which he had descanted with his usual eloquence on the amiability of virtue, gave utterance to the following apostrophe: "O virtue, if thou wert embodied, all men would love thee." His colleague, the Rev. R. Walker ascended the same pulpit, on a subsequent part of the same sabbath; and addressing the congregation, said, "my reverend friend observed in the morning, that if virtue were embodied all men would love her. Virtue

has been embodied but how was she treated? Did all men love her? No, she was despised, and rejected of men: who after defaming, insulting, and scourging her, led her to Calvary, where they crucified her between two thieves." The effect of this fine passage on the audience was very powerful.

YOUNG GENTLEMEN'S DEPARTMENT.

EARLY REPUTATION.

It is an old proverb, that he who aims at the sun, to be sure, will not reach it, but his arrow will fly higher than if he aimed at an object on a level with himself. Just so in the formation of character. Set your standard high, and though you may not reach it, you can hardly fail to rise higher than if you aimed at some inferior excellence. Young men are not, in general, conscious of what they are capable of doing. They do not task their faculties, nor improve their powers, nor attempt as they ought, to rise to superior excellence. They have no high, commanding object at which to aim: but often seem to be passing away life without object and without aim. The consequence is, their efforts are feeble; they are not waked up to any thing great or distinguished; and therefore, fail to acquire a character of decided worth:

Intercourse with persons of decided virtue and excellence, is of great importance in the formation of a good character. The power of example is proverbial. We are creatures of imitation, and by a necessary influence, our temper and habits are very much formed on the model of those with whom we familiarly associate. In this view, nothing is of more importance to young men than the choice of their companions. If they select for their associates the intelligent, the virtuous, and the enterprising, great and most happy will be the effects on their own character and habits. With these living, breathing patterns of excellence before them, they can hardly fail to feel disgust at every thing that is low, unworthy and vicious, and to be in

spired with a desire to advance in whatever is praiseworthy and good. It is needless to add, the opposite of all this is the certain consequence of intimacy with persons of bad habits and profligate lives.

Young men are, in general, but little aware how much their reputation is affected in the view of the public, by the company they keep. The character of their associates is soon regarded as their own. If they seek the society of the worthy and respectable, it elevates them in the public estimation, as it is an evidence that they respect others. On the contrary, intimacy with persons of bad character, always sinks a young man in the eye of the public. While he, perhaps in intercourse with such persons, thinks but little of the consequences, others are making their remarks; they, learn what his taste is; what sort of company he prefers; and predict on no doubtful ground, what will be the issue to his own principles and character.-There are young men, and those too, who have no mean opinion of themselves, to be intimate with whom would be as much as one's reputation is worth.

ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN.

"Ever carry about with you such a sense of the uncertainty of every thing in this life, and of life itself, as to put nothing off till to-morrow which you can conveniently do to-day. Dilatory persons are frequently exposed to surprise and hurry in every thing that belongs to them. The time is come and they are unprepared. Let the concerns of your soul and your shop, your religion and your business, lie always in such order, as far as possible, that death at a short warning, may be no occasion of a disquieting tumult in your spirit, and that you escape the anguish of a bitter repentance in a dying hour. Farewell."

Phroeimus, a considerable Eastland merchant, happened upon a copy of these advices, about the time when he permitted his son to commence a partnership with him in his trade; he transcribed them with his own hand, and made a present of them to the youth

together with the articles of partnership. Here, young man, said he, is a paper of more worth than these articles. Read it over once a month till it is wrought in your very soul and temper. Walk by these rules and I can trust my estate in your hands. Copy out these counsels in your life and you will make me and yourself easy and happy.

POPULAR AND INSTRUCTIVE TALES.

THE PRETTY APPLE GIRL

The following article has been handed us for publication, by a gentleman who assures us that the "leading traits" are literally true. It first appeared in the Charleston Courier, and was, we are informed, written by a distinguished clergyman.

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Having with my companion, reached the lower end of Fulton slip, directly opposite the gate where the ferry boats touch, I discovered that the boat had just gone from the wharf, and that we should, in consequence, have to wait until the other arrived. We immediately went a little to the corner of the market house so as to escape the burning afternoon sun. "Surely," said I to my companion, these poor women seated along the pavement, can scarcely make a living by selling a few apples and pears, and other little trifles which they appear to have in their possession." "A living, my dear sir; depend upon it, they live more comfortably than many of those young girls who would not appear in the streets without their flowered muslin dresses and their parasols. Do you observe," said he, "that young girl" "Yes," replied I; "she is tolerably pretty; she has got black eyes, cheeks as rosy as the apples she sells, and fine auburn hair that many a fine lady would give a thousand dollars for." "Take my word for it," said my companion, "she'd rather sell her apples at a penny a piece than her hair for any money." "I should conceive," said I, "that her hair could be of very little use to a girl who appears by her dress to be destitute of the great passion of her sex; I mean personal vanity. Look at her drapery; I should suppose she had picked