name of good sense, how can any one feel thus, when it is realized that the entire life of a man is but a moment in the scale of eternity; and that in a few short days, at most, we must all go from here. When the soul is about to depart, what avails it whether a man dies upor a throne or in the dust? Pride is a virtue-let not the moralist be scandal ized-pride is also a vice. Pride, like ambition, is sometimes virtuous and sometimes vicious, according to the character in which it is found, and the object to which it is directed. As a principle, it is the parent of almost every virtue, and every vice-every thing that pleases and displeases in mankind; and as the effects are so very different, nothing is more easy than to discover, even to ourselves, whether the pride that produces them is virtuous or vicious: the first object of virtuous pride is rectitude, and the next independence. Pride may be allowed to this or that degree, else a man cannot keep up his dignity. In gluttony there must be eating, in drunkenness there must be drinking; 'tis not the eating, nor 'tis not the drinking that must be blamed, but the excess. So in pride. Pride and poverty, when combined, make a man's life up-hill work. Pomposity in a hovel. A gaudy parlor, meagre kitchen, and empty cupboard! Ragged aristocracy! What shifts there are among this class to hide their rags, and to give everything a golden tinge. Among them you see a rich frosted cake and red wine in the parlor, and a dry crust, dryer codfish, and bad coffee in the kitchen. Broadcloth hides a ragged shirt. Polished boots hide tattered stockings. Fortune's toys, she kicks them about as she likes. The higher they look the lower they sink. The gaudy side out, rags and starvation within. Oh! the pangs of pride! What misery is here covered up. Smiles abroad, tears at home. An eternal war with want on one hand, and proud ambition on the other. This trying to be "somebody," and this forgetting that it is not necessary to be gold-washed, and to have a silver spoon in one's mouth, in order to reach that envied good in life's journey There are plenty of "somebodies" among the honest poor, and plenty of "nobodies" among the dainty rich. Pride and poverty are the most ill-assorted companions that can meet. They live in a state of continual warfare, and the sacrifices they exact from each other, like those claimed by enemies to establish a hollow peace, only serve to increase their discord. Proud persons in general think of nothing but themselves, and imagine that all the world thinks about them too. They suppose that they are the subject of almost every conversation, and fancy every wheel which moves in society hath some relation to them. People of this sort are very desirous of knowing what is said of them, and as they have no conception that any but great things are said of them, they are extremely solicitous to know them, and often put this caestion: "Who do men say that I am?" Pride is the ape of charity. In show not much unlike, but somewhat fuller of action; in seeking the one, take heed thou light not upon the other. They are two parallels never put asunder. Charity feeds the poor, so does pride; charity builds a hospital, so does pride. In this they differ: charity gives her glory to God, pride takes her glory from man. When flowers are full of heaven-descended dews, they always hang their heads; but men hold theirs the higher the more they receive, getting proud as they get full. Likeness begets love, yet proud men hate each other. Pride makes us esteem ourselves; vanity makes us desire the esteem of others. It is just to say, that a man is too proud to be vain. The pride of wealth is contemptible; the pride of learning is pitiable; the pride of dignity is ridiculous; but the pride of bigotry is insupportable. To be proud of knowledge, is to be blind in the light; to be proud of virtue, is to poison yourself with the antidote; to be proud of authority is to make your rise your downfall. The sun appears largest when about to set, so does a proud man swell most magnificently just before an explosion. No two feelings of the human mind are more opposite than pride and humility. Pride is founded on a high opinion of ourselves; humility on the consciousness of the want of merit. Pride is the offspring of ignorance; humility is the child of wisdom. Pride hardens the heart; humility softens the temper and the disposition. Pride is deaf to the clamors of conscience; humility listens with reverence to the monitor within; and finally, pride rejects the counsels of reason, the voice of expe rience, the dictates of religion; while humility, with a docile spirit, thankfully receives instruction from all who address her in the garb of truth. "Of all trees," says Feltham, "I observe God hath chosen the vine a low plant that creeps upon the helpful wall; of all peasts, the soft and pliant lamb; of all fowls, the mild and guileless dove. When God appeared to Moses, it was not in the lofty cedar, nor in the spreading palm, but a bush, an humble, abject bush. As if he would, by these selections, check the conceited arrogance of man." Nothing produces love like humility; nothing hate like pride. It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels. There are as good horses drawing in carts as in coaches; and as good men are engaged in humble employments as in the highest. The best way t humble a proud man is to take no notice of him. Men are sometimes accused of pride, merely because their accusers would be proud themselves if they were in their places. There are those who despise pride with a greater pride. To quell the pride, even of the greatest, we should reflect how much we owe to others, and how little to ourselves. Other vices choose to be in the dark, but pride loves to be seen in the light. The common charge against those who rise above their condition, is pride. Proud looks make foul work in fair faces. When a man's pride is thoroughly subdued, it is like the sides of Mount Etna. It was terrible while the eruption lasted and the lava flowed; but when that is past, and the lava is turned into soil, it grows vineyards and olive trees up to the very top. Fops and Dandies. Though great thy grandeur, man, may be, The fops and dandies dwell in hosts. THE rose of Florida, the most beautiful of flowers, emits no fragrance; the bird of Paradise, the most beautiful of birds, gives no songs; the cypress of Greece, the finest of trees, yields no fruit; dandies, the shiniest of men, generally have no sense; and ballroom belles, the loveliest of created creatures, are very often ditto. Dr. Holmes, in his "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," says: "Dandies are not good for much, but they are good for something. They invent or keep in circulation those conversational blanks, checks or counters, which intellectual capitalists may sometimes find it worth their while to borrow of them. They are useful, too, in keeping up the standard of dress, which, but for them, would deteri orate and become, what some old folks would have it, a matter of convenience, and not of taste and art. Yes, I like dandies well enough-on one condition, that they have pluck. I find that lies at the bottom of all true dandyism." A man, following the occupation of wood cutting, wrought with exemplary zeal the six working days, hoarding every cent not required to furnish him with the most frugal fare. As his "pile" increased, he |