did him the honor to eat of his "savoury meats," and drink of his delicious wines. The itinerant gentry neglected not to spend one night at least, both going out and coming in, with the liberal-hearted Harmanicus. Even Travellers and Sojourners on business, found time, nevertheless, to breakfast, and dine, and sup, and lodge, with Harmanicus, who provided withal" both straw and provender." The worshipful Bencher, for many years his close table-friend, never failed to live with him in term-time. They served themselves of him to the last. They eked out their friendly visits till they had milked all his resources dry ; till poorly, poor man, was he able barely to shift for himself and then-What then ?-Read the son of Sirach for an answer.

NUMBER XCV.

Of the misusage of the faculty of Memory.

In the little citadel of the mind, the Memory acts as a sort of subaltern; and hence it is often blamed, and sometimes wrongfully, by the commander in chief. We seldom find men dissatisfied with their understandings, or their judgments, or with the character of their hearts. Very few are disposed to own that any of these are radically defective or greatly in fault. But nothing is more common than to hear them berating their memories, as not only weak, but treacherous. The aged I have often heard complain of their memories, but seldom of their judgments.

"Tis with our judgments as our watches-none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own."

I said just now, that the memory sometimes is blamed wrongfully; and truth would bear me out, were I to add, that nothing is more common than taxing the memory with faults of which it is in no wise guilty.In very many of the cases in which forgetfulness is pleaded for excuse or apology; if the memory were allowed to speak for herself, she would let it be known. that the imputations cast upon her were slanderous falsehoods, and that, in these particular cases, she had performed her part in full measure.

Artificial methods of assisting the memory have been suggested by writers, and at least one invention for that purpose has been made and put in practice by those who could not write. It is worthy of notice as a curiosity, if not for its use.

According to Smith's history of the colony of NewYork-In 1689 Commissioners from Boston, Plymouth, and Connecticut, had a conference with the Five Indian nations at Albany: when a Mohawk sachem, in a speech of great length, answered the message of the commissioners, and repeated all that had been said the preceding day. The art they had for assisting their memories was this. The sachem who presided had a bundle of sticks prepared for the purpose, and at the close of every principal article of the message delivered to them, he gave a stick to another sachem, charging him with the remembrance of that particular article. By this means, the orator, after a previous conference with the sachems who severally had the sticks, was prepared to repeat every part of the message, and to give to it its proper reply. This custom, as the historian remarks, was invariably pursued in all their public treaties.

The gift of memory, like the other gifts of nature, is distributed, to some individuals more, and to others

less. While all are blest with such a measure of memory as might suffice them, if well improved, some few enjoy it in an extraordinary measure; and, what is truly wonderful, a very strong memory is sometimes found yoked with a very feeble intellect. There are some persons that can repeat, word for word, a considerably long discourse, upon hearing or reading it only once or twice, and yet are possessed of minds too weak and slender to reason upon matters with any considerable degree of ability, or to judge of them accurately.. A man of this sort, ever makes himself tiresome, if not ridiculous, by dealing out wares from the vast store of his memory, without regard to time, place, or fitness. But whenever, on the other hand, an excellent memory is united with a sound and vigorous understanding, nothing but indolence can hinder such a one from becoming great-nothing but the want of good principle at heart, can prevent his acting with superior excellence, some part or other, upon the theatre of life.

In general, we forget for want of attention, more than the want of memory. Persons of very indifferent memories find no difficulty in remembering certain things that had excited their attention in a very high degree; while a thousand other things of far greater moment have been utterly forgotten by them. Once on a time, an Indian preacher said to an assembly of white people who were gathered together to hear him"Though you will forget what I say, you will remember as long as you live, that you had heard an Indian preach." It was even so. None of the assembly did probably forget this striking circumstance, though but few retained in memory either sermon or text.

"Creditors," generally speaking, "have better memories than their debtors." The former are never known to forget the bond; while the latter are very prone to

forget it, or at least to forget its date, or the day of promised payment.

The doer of a favour or benefit, is apt to remember it a great deal longer than the receiver.

It is one of the worst and most treacherous memories, that forgets a friend in his adversity. "Pharaoh remembered not Joseph, but forgat him." Nor is it a very uncommon thing, to forget, not only near friends, but eminent benefactors, when they stand in need of aid.

All of us inherit from nature better memories for in

juries than for kindnesses. This lamentable error of memory it behooves us to remedy by all the means in our power.

A man of a truly great mind, who had been both obliged and disobliged by the same persons, magnanimously resolved to forget all that might diminish his gratitude, and to remember only what might increase it.

NUMBER XCVI.

A comment upon the fable of the Invisible Spectacles.

"Jove, once upon a time," (as an old heathen fable relates) "having ordered that Pleasure and Pain should be mixed, in equal proportions, in every dose of human life, upon a complaint that some men endeavoured to separate what he had joined, and taking more than their share of the sweet, would leave all the sour for others; commanded Mercury to put a stop to this evil, by placing upon each delinquent a pair of invisible Spectacles, which should change the appearance of things, mak

ing pain look like pleasure, and pleasure like pain, labour like recreation, and recreation like labour.”

If, by the Invisible Spectacles we are to understand the illusions which mislead the judgment in regard to the true comforts and interests of life, it is pretty certain that no kind of spectacles else is in so general use. In the days of youth almost every thing is seen through these false glasses, which very many wear all their lifetime, in spite of age and experience.

One of the most needful of all arts, is the art of com puting. It is deemed indispensably necessary in all kinds of business. And hence we send our children to school, to learn the use of figures, and how to cast up accounts, and foot them to a nicety. One who has no knowledge at all, of the nine figures of arithmetic, who even knows not that 2 and 2 make four, is regarded as fit for no sort of business above that of a scullion. But besides the knowledge of figures, there is another branch of the art of computing, which is of superior importance: I mean an accurate knowledge of the value of things, considered in relation to our real comfort and happiness. This is a kind of knowledge, not in itself so very difficult to learn, but which, nevertheless, is hidden from multitudes of men and women of good natural parts, by reason that their manner is to view things through the medium as it were of magic spectacles, rather than with the naked and unprejudiced eye of reason.

Apart from considering the common and fatal illusion, through which immortal joys are sacrificed to transient pleasure, a great many, for want of skill in the art of computing, make wrong judgments about Pleasure, on the right choice of which their worldly weal depends in no inconsiderable measure. Scorning, or overlooking, the simple and innocent pleasures of