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-wisely, if we can afford it. Money is station, as well as character and power.

For a young man of a gentleman's station and a cadet's income, the only show needed is that which probably pleases himself the most— the effect produced by his own personal appearance. Dress will, therefore, not unreasonably, and by no means frivolously, demand some of his thoughts and much of his money. To the station of a young aspirant of fashion in the polite world, who is known not to be rich, it matters nothing what he pays for his lodging; he can always give his address at a club or hotel. No one cares how much or how little he pays for his dinner. No fine lady inquires if he calls at her house on foot or in a carriage. But society expects him to dress as much like a gentleman as if he were a young duke; and, fortunately, as young dukes nowadays do not wear gold lace and miniver, this is no unreasonable exaction on the part of society. A gentleman's taste in dress is, upon principle, the avoidance of all things extravagant. It consists in the quiet simplicity of exquisite neatness; but, as the neatness must be a neatness in fashion, employ the best tailor; pay him ready money, and, on the whole, you will find him the cheapest.

Mere dandies are but cut flowers in a bouquet,-once faded, they can never reblossom. In the drawing-room, as everywhere else, Mind, in the long run, prevails. And, O well-booted Achaian! for all those substantial good things which money well managed commands, and which, year after year, as you advance in life, you will covet and sigh for,-yon sloven, thick-shoed, and with cravat awry,-whose mind, as he hurries by the bow-window at White's, sows each fleeting moment with thoughts which grow not blossoms for bouquets, but corn-sheaves for garners— will, before he is forty, be far more the fashion than you. He is commanding the time out of which you are fading. And time, O my friend, is money! time wasted can never conduce to money well managed.

Note-LORD LYTTON was originally known to fame, in this country, as Edward Lytton Bulwer, and our people had hardly got used to the honorable title which Queen Victoria conferred on him and the astronomer Herschel, as the best representatives of the literature and science of her kingdom at the date of her inauguration (1838), when, in 1844, by royal license, and in pursuance of his mother's will, by which he succeeded to the Lytton estate of Knebworth, the popular author Bulwer was apparently lost in the less familiar designation of Sir Edward Bulwer Lyttor, and again as Lord Lytton (since 1866), when, on the recommendation of the Premier (Lord Derby), in whose cabinet Le had a feat as Secretary for the Colonies, he was elevated to the peerage as Baron Lytton; thenceforth we find his name recorded as the Rt. Hon. Lord Edward George Earle Bulwer Lytton. By whatever name he or the Queen or the Herald's College may choose to designate the author of the 'Caxtons,' his numerous works will be treasured as valuable contributions to the literature of the English language.

STUDIES AND CONDUCT.

KNOWLEDGE.-WISDOM.

THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS OF A STATESMAN.

WILLIAM VON HUMBOLDT, from whose Letters to a Lady, in whose loss of fortune incident to the German war with Napoleon I. he became interested as Envoy of Prussia to the Congress of Vienna, and whose disappointment he afterwards sought to alleviate by delicate pecuniary assistance, and friendly correspondence, was born in 1761, and died in 1835. Although less known out of Germany than his brother Alexander, his reputation, as a wise statesman, in Germany is second to no man of his time. These letters were published after his death, and an English edition appeared in 1850, in the series of Small Books on Great Subjects, by Pickering, under the secondary title given above. The English translator says: "Never was religion shown in a more amiable light than in the outpourings of his benevolent, yet firm mind. We see it as his guide and his support under all circumstances, and yet so unostentatiously so, that but for the publication of these Letters, probably none but his intimates would have known Wilhelm Von Humboldt than that he was a profound scholar, and an able statesman: and the moving spring of all his actions would have remained concealed till the day when the secrets of all heart shall be made known. It is well for the world that this has not been so it is well to see the nobleman and the minister of state gathering from Christianity the rule of his life, and depending on its promises with the child-like confidence so acceptable to God."

BIBLE-OLD AND NEW TESTAMENT-ENGLISH AND GERMAN VERSION.

When the human race was nearer its origin, men seem to have had more greatness, more simplicity, more depth and nature in their thoughts and feelings, as well as in the expression of them. It is true we must arrive at the full and clear sight of this by laborious, and often by mechanical acquirements; but in this very labor there is a charm; or even if not, it is at least soon over when we are accustomed to application. Among the strongest, purest, and finest tones in which the voice of antiquity has reached us, may be reckoned the books of the Old Testament; and we can never be enough thankful that in our (273)

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translation they have lost so little of their reality and strength of expression.* I have often reflected with pleasure on the existence of so much that is exalted, rich, and varied, as is contained in the Bible, in the books of the Old and New Testament; and if this be, as is very frequently the case, the only book in the hands of the people, yet have they in this a compendium of human thought, history, poetry, and philosophy so complete, that it would be difficult to find a feeling or a thought which has not its echo in these books. Neither is there much in them which is incomprehensible to a common simple mind. The learned may penetrate deeper, but no one can go away unsatisfied.

I have always sought so to weave myself into the present, so as to be able to win, as far as possible, an interior victory over outward discomfort; and exactly in this point of view the reading of the Bible is an infinite, and certainly far the surest source of consolation. I know nothing to be compared to it. The consolation of the Bible flows equally, though in different ways, from both the Old and New Testament. In both, the general guidance of God, and the universal government of his Providence is the prevailing idea; and from hence, in religiously disposed minds, springs the deeply fixed, and ineffaceable conviction, that even the order of things under which we ourselves suffer, is the most wisely appointed, and the most beneficial not only for the whole, but, in consequence of that, for the sufferer himself. In the new testament there is such a full predominance of the spiritual and the moral; every thing is so completely rested upon and carried back to purity of mind, that whatever else external or internal may happen to man, if he but strive earnestly and eagerly after this, all the rest falls back into shadow. Hence misfortune and every other sorrow loses a part of its oppressive influence, and at all events none of its bitterness remains. The infinite mildness of the whole New Testament doctrine, which figures God almost entirely on the merciful side, and in which the self-sacrificing love of Christ for the human race, is everywhere brought forward; joined with the example which he himself has set us, alleviates like a healing balsam, every pain both of mind and body. In the Old Testament we do not find this, but there again appear, and always with more of comfort than terror, the omnipotence and omniscience of the Creator and Beholder of all things, raising us above our own individual sorrows by the grandeur of the representation.

LOVE OF NATURE-TREES-SKY.

The sight of the heavens, under whatever aspect, has an unceasing charm for me, by night, whether it be gloomy or starlight; by day, whether the eye loses itself in deep blue, or amid passing clouds, or in an unvaried grey, makes

* Luther's translation is among the finest renderings ever made of the Hebrew Scriptures. It has the same simplicity and strength which characterizes the English version. Of this a writer in the Catholic Dublin Review (attributed to Prof. J. H. Newman), remarks on the Protestant English version of the Bible: "It lives on the ear like music that can never be forgotten-like the sound of a church bell which a convert hardly knows he can forego Its felicities seem to be almost things rather than mere words. It is part of the national mind, and the anchor of national seriousness. The memory of the dead passes into it. The potent traditions of childhood are stereotyped in its verses. The dower of all the gifts and trials of a man is hidden beneath its words. It is the representative of his best moments, and all that there has been about him of soft, and gentle, and poor, and penitent, and good, speaks to him forever out of the English Bible. It is his sacred thing, which doubt has never dimmed, and controversy never soiled. In the length and breadth of the land there is not a Protestant with one spark of righteousness about him, whose spiritual biography is not in his Saxon Bible."

no difference: every one of these aspects awakens some especial tone of mind in man; and when we have the happiness not to be dependent on the weather for our mood, we are not obliged to be melancholy because the sky is dark, but can bring forth from our own mind continually fresh thoughts as outward circumstances vary; a colorless sky is no evil. Complaints about the weather are quite foreign to my nature, and I do not like to hear others complain of it. I consider Nature as a combination of forces, which may afford the purest pleasure if we quietly acquiesce in and accommodate ourselves to all its varying developments, and look at it as a whole, of which it matters little whether the smaller details be pleasant, so long as its great cycle of events completes its course. I have an especial delight in living face to face with Nature in the country, so that I may watch the progress of every season in turn.

Even without attaching any thought of religion to the sight of the heavens, there is something inexpressibly exciting to the mind in thus losing one's self in the infinity of space: it at once takes away from life its little cares and desires, and from reality its otherwise oppressive weight. As surely as the knowledge of man is the first and weightiest concern in the affairs of men, so surely, on the other hand, is there nothing more narrowing to the mind than the perpetually keeping our eyes fixed on the small circle of human beings by whom we are hemmed in. We must return often to the contemplation and feeling of a higher power ruling in human affairs, as we see it in nature, ere we can safely come back to the fetters of society. Only thus do we learn to hold the things of real life to be matters of minor importance, to make less account of good or ill fortune, to be careless about wants and vexations, and to fix our attention solely on the changes which take place in it, so as to leave exterior life to a certain degree out of our consideration. The thought of death has then nothing in it which can frighten or sadden us; we rather enjoy the recalling it, and look on the farewell to life which must follow, as a natural step in the development of being.

Natural objects themselves, even when they make no claim to beauty, excite the feelings and occupy the imagination. Nature pleases, attracts, delights, merely because it is nature. We recognize in it an Infinite Power, greater and more effective than that of man, and yet not terrible; for a mild and beneficial influence seems to be extended on every object around us. Indeed the gene

ral character of nature is kind and good. When we talk of tremendous cliffs, and terribly sublime scenery, nature herself, nevertheless, is not to be feared. We soon become confident and at home among the wildest rocks, and feel that to the hermit who flies to her for shelter, she readily imparts tranquillity and peace.

Faith only can raise us above our little daily life, and worldly business;that only can give the soul a direction to higher things, and to objects and ideas which alone have value or importance. It bestows what certainly you have not failed to enjoy, and which you doubtless value far beyond all that is called happiness or good fortune,-I mean the peace of the soul. It is grounded chiefly, no doubt, on an untroubled and clear conscience, but it is not attained by that alone: we must be content with our lot, and be able to say calmly and truly that we have not murmured at it, but on the contrary have received it when prosperous, with humility, when adverse, with resignation and real confidence in God's wise government. As a difficult, perplexing situation enhances the merit of accommodating ourselves to it without complaint, or of freeing ourselves from it by our own exertions, so we thus grow into better accord with our lot, whatever it may be.

We perceive in the immutable course of Nature, always following fixed laws, something infinitely consoling and tranquillizing. There is something here, then, that does not change; "an immovable pole amid the circling course of appearances," as Schiller beautifully expresses it in one of his poems. Man, then, belongs to a great and immutable order of things; and this as certainly leads to something higher, and finally to a point at which all doubts will be explained, and all difficulties made plain; when all the involved and apparently discordant laws will at last unite into one mighty diapason;-so must he, too, proceed with it to this same point. The character, moreover, which is impressed upon nature is always so gentle a one, that the finest feelings can

not be wounded by it. The tranquillity, the joy, the splendor which she spreads around; the magnificence and grandeur in which she clothes herself, have nothing in them either of pretension or of haughtiness to repulse us. However deep may be the affliction, the mind nevertheless opens itself willingly to the feelings awakened by the numberless flowers of the renewed year, the joyful twitter of the birds, the splendor of the objects touched by the still brightening and strengthening sun, as he goes forth in his might. Grief then assumes the form of a gentle melancholy, which is not a stranger to a certain peace and sweetness even. If, finally, we regard nature as not really all, merely the bond between the spiritual and corporeal world; if we take it as the operation of matter and its forces, acting in obedience to the Creator, then it is the earthly shell only of man that belongs to it; himself, his higher and proper existence, steps beyond its bounds, and associates itself to another and nobler order of things. You will see from this, nearly, how I am influenced by the slowly ap proaching, yet beautiful Spring; how I enjoy it; and how it mingles with all my deepest feelings.

All the things which surround us contain in themselves matter for contemplation, for enjoyment, and for delight, both for the mind and feelings, which is wholly different from, and independent of, the peculiar destination and physical uses of any of them. The more we abandon ourselves to the pursuit of it, the more does this deeper sense-this meaning which belongs half to the natural object, and half to us who find it-open upon us. Let us only, for instance, look at the clouds. In themselves they are nothing but shapeless mist, the consequence of moisture and warmth; yet how, when viewed from the earth, do they enliven the sky with their forms and colors, and how many fancies and feelings do they give rise to in the mind.

The leaves of the trees are beginning to take the varied colors which so much ornament the autumn, and to a certain degree make up for the loss of the first fresh green. The little place which I inhabit (Tegel) is admirably made to show all the beauties which large handsome trees of different kinds exhibit through all the changing seasons of the year. All round the house they stand broad and spreading, like a green fan. Over the land alleys extend in various directions: in the garden and the vineyard there are fruit trees: in the park is a thick dark growth of underwood: the lake is surrounded with a forest, and the islands in it are bordered with trees and bushes. I have a particular love for trees, and I do not like to cut them down, nor even to transplant them. There is something melancholy in removing a poor tree from the society in which it has lived so long, to bring it into fresh soil, from which, however much it may disagree with its constitution, it has no chance of escaping any more, but must pine away through a slow exhaustion, awaiting its final death. There is generally an extraordinary character of anxious wish in trees, when they stand so fixed and cramped in the earth, and try to extend their summits and their branches as far as possible beyond the bounds of their I know nothing in nature so formed to be the symbol of desire. Man, too, in fact, with all his apparent freedom of motion, is very much in the same state. He is still confined within a certain space, however widely he may roam: sometimes he can never stir from his small circle, (and this is often the case with women) the same little spot sees his cradle and his grave; or if he removes from it, he is drawn back to it from time to time by his inclination or his duty.

roots.

OCCUPATION-SILENT THINKING.

Occupation, in my mind, is as much a need as eating and drinking; even those who do nothing which a sensible man would call work, fancy at least that they are doing something: an idler, if even in his heart he means to remain such, does not tell the world so. There is, however, one employment, though of a different kind, which may be enjoyed while traveling: namely silent thought, which goes on without moving a finger, without reading and without writing. It is not indeed impossible to enjoy it at home, but very often business does not allow of it, and we can hardly attain it excepting in a

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