doubtful whether the judgment of tutors in general would be as infallible as that of Isocrates.

In the first place, a just perception of character is always a rare gift. When possessed in a high degree it is the quality which specially indicates the leader of men. It is that which enables a General or a Minister to select the fit instrument for the public purpose; without which all the preparations for a campaign, however costly and complete, may be fruitless, and all the deliberations of councils and all the discussions of Parliament prove mere dust and wind. Scholars and philosophers are in general too much absorbed by their own peculiar studies or pursuits to be skilled in the discrimination of character, and if the aptitude of a pupil is recognised by them, it is generally when he has evinced a disposition to excel in some branch of acquirement which has established their own celebrity.

No, gentlemen, I believe, after all, it will be found that it is best and inevitable, in the pursuit of selfknowledge, that we should depend on self-communion. Unquestionably, where there is a strong predisposition, it will assert itself in spite of all obstacles, but even here only after an initiation of many errors and much selfdeception. One of the fruitful sources of that selfdeception is to be found in the susceptibility of the youthful mind. The sympathy is so quick that we are apt to transfer to our own persons the qualities which we admire in others. If it be the age of a great poet,

his numbers are for ever resounding in our ears, and we sigh for his laurels; if a military age, nothing will content us but to be at the head of armies; if an age of oratory and politics, our spirit requires that we should be leaders of parties and Ministers of State. In some instances the predisposition may be true, but it is in the nature of things that the instances must be rare. In ninety-nine cases out of one hundred the feeling is not idiosyncratic but mimetic, and we have mistaken a quick sensibility for creative power. Then comes to a young man the period of disappointment and despondency. To publish poems which no one will read; to make speeches to which no one will listen; after reveries of leading armies and directing councils, to find yourself, on your entrance into the business of life, incapable of influencing the conduct of an ordinary individual,—all this is bitter; but all depends upon how the lesson is received. A weak spirit will not survive this catastrophe of his self-love. He will sink into chronic despondency, and, without attempting to rally, he will pass through life as a phantom, and be remembered, as an old man, only by the golden promise of his deceptive youth. But a man of sense will accept these consequences, however apparently mortifying, with courage and candour. He will dive into his own intelligence, he will analyse the circumstances of his failure, he will discriminate how much was occasioned by indigenous deficiencies, and how much may be attributed to external and

fortuitous circumstances. And in this severe introspection he may obtain that self-knowledge he requires; his failures may be the foundation of his ultimate success, and in this moral and intellectual struggle he may discover the true range of his powers, and the right bent of his character and capacity.

So much, gentlemen, for self-knowledge, a subject that for ages has furnished philosophers with treatises. I do not pretend to be a philosopher, and I have not offered you a treatise, but I have made some remarks which are, at least, the result of my own observation.

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But assuming that you have at length attained this indispensable self-knowledge, and that you have an opportunity, in the pursuits of life, of following the bent of your disposition, we come now to the second and not less important condition of success in life: have you that other kind of knowledge which is required?--do you comprehend the spirit of the age which your faculties are to be exercised? Hitherto you have been as explorers in a mountain district. You have surveyed and examined valleys, you have penetrated gorges, you have crossed many a ridge and range, till at length, having overcome all obstacles, you have reached the crest of the commanding height, and, like the soldiers of Xenophon, you behold the sea. But the sea that you behold is the Ocean of Life! In what vessels are you going to embark? With what

instruments are you furnished? What is the port of your destination ?

It is singular that though there is no lack of those who will explain the past, and certainly no want of those who will predict the future, when the present is concerned— the present that we see and feel-our opinions about it are in general bewildered and mistaken. And yet, without this acquaintance with the spirit of the age in which we live, whatever our culture and whatever our opportunities, it is probable that our lives may prove a blunder. When the young King of Macedon decided that the time had arrived when Europe should invade Asia, he recognised the spirit of his age. The revelations of the weakness of the Great King, which had been made during the immortal expedition of the Ten Thousand, and still more during the campaigns of Agesilaus, had gradually formed a public opinion which Alexander dared to represent. When Caius Julius perceived that the colossal empire formed by the Senate and populace of Rome could not be sustained on the municipal institutions of a single city, however illustrious, he understood the spirit of the age. Constantine understood the spirit of his age when he recognised the Sign under which he was resolved to conquer. I think that Luther recognised the spirit of the age when he nailed his Theses against Indulgences to the gates of a Thuringian church. The great Princes of the House of Tudor, and the statesmen they employed,

were all persons who understood the spirit of their

age.

But it may be said, 'These are heroic instances. A perception of the spirit of their age may be necessary to the success of princes and statesmen, but is not needful, or equally needful, for those of lesser degree.' I think there would be fallacy in this criticism, and that the necessity of this knowledge pervades the whole business of life. Take, for example, the choice of a profession; a knowledge of the spirit of the age may save a young man from embracing a profession which the spirit of the age dooms to become obsolete. It is the same with the pursuits of commerce. This knowledge may guard a man from embarking his capital in a decaying trade, or from forming connexions and even establishments in countries from which the spirit of the age is gradually diverting all commercial transactions. I would say a knowledge of the spirit of the age is necessary for every public man, and in a country like ours, where the subject is called upon hourly to exercise rights and to fulfil duties which, in however small a degree, go to the aggregate of that general sentiment which ultimately governs States, every one is a public man, although he may not be a public character.

But it does not follow, because the spirit of the age is perceived and recognised, it should be embraced and followed, or even that success in life depends upon adopting it. What I wished to impress upon you was