THE PONDERER. No. 24.

Sapere aude.

Dare to be wise.

HOR.

FEW observations are more striking than the

maxim of Dr. Johnson," that man without cultivation is a gregarious, rather than social animal;" but it is equally true that the highest cultivation of intellect, frequently produces an abstraction of mind, and consequent taciturnity, which deprive us of some of the most important advantages that are derived from society. This appears to be the reason that the conversation of mixed assemblies is generally so uninteresting, because those who are best qualified to instruct by their wisdom, or delight by their eloquence, prefer silence to conversation upon topics, in which they feel little interest, and which, perhaps, they secretly despise.

To a mind richly furnished with the discoveries of science, and highly polished by literature, my friend Donville has added powers for conversation, as varied as inexhaustible. Donville, more than I have ever known, possesses the any man happy art of conveying instruction without the least appearance of formality, of giving perspi

cuity to the most difficult subjects, and interest to the most familiar; and as he is in an eminent degree an original, as well as a profound thinker, he seldom fails to give some degree of novelty, even to topics which are the subjects of every day's discussion, and which, from familiarity, have lost their claim to attention. With these qualities to please and to instruct, Donville seems to possess an innate love for conversation; but I have frequently heard him declare, that this faculty has been acquired, principally from a sense of duty; because he has always considered it an obligation upon every social being, to bring his proportion of amusement or instruction to the social circle.

Of Donville's ancestors he knows nothing, and even of his father but little, as he never remembers having seen him but once, and then he was scarcely more than four years of age. His mother is the natural daughter of a nobleman, by whom she was early consigned to a respectable seminary for instruction; but beyond this never knew a father's care, and consequently never experienced the sympathy of parental affection. Thus sur

rounded by strangers, to whom her little joys and sorrows were equally uninteresting, she was compelled to feel, think, and act for herself to derive her pleasures from her own resources, and to rely

entirely upon the exertion of her own powers in all cases of emergency. From an education in these peculiar circumstances, she acquired at a very early period a degree of decision of character, and force of intellect, which in circumstances apparently more propitious, are seldom acquired even during life.

Maria Donville, however, (for that is the name of my worthy friend's mother) exquisitely felt the vacuity of heart, which is always the bitter por tion of those, who are attached to life by no do mestic, or social ties. Often has she thrilled my soul with exquisite, but indescribable sensations, when in the glowing language of feeling she has painted the wretchedness of existence, with a consciousness that its pleasures and pains excite no interest, beyond the ordinary round of unmeaning compliment or affectation; and that if tomorrow should consign it to oblivion, no congenial or feeling mind would drop a tear of genuine sympathy upon its grave. With these feelings, it can excite no surprise that she listened to the dictates of passion, rather than prudence, and bestowed her hand with such apparent precipita, tion, that she pronounced the irrevocable vow of matrimony at fifteen; and before she was sixteen, became the mother of my friend George; then,

says she, "for the first time, I felt that life has endearments, which not only render it tolerable, but attach us to existence; and thus is the love of life, like every other affection generated by the association of pleasure in possession, or in promise."

The little I have ever heard of my friend's father is, that at the period of his marriage, he was scarcely more than twenty-one, and was then a student in the Temple-that his fortune, even with moderate wants, and regulated wishes, was no more than a competency, and that, notwithstanding his expectations had been considerable, his marriage having been deemed imprudent by the wealthy children of pecuniary calculation, they were never realized. His mind was adorned with every elegant, as well as useful, accomplishment; his heart the seat of benevolence; and his conduct, as a husband and a father, uniformly regulated by affectionate sympathy. His health, however, was delicate in the extreme, and immoderate application to those severe studies, without which it is impossible for a barrister to obtain distinction, deprived his family and the world, at the age of twenty-six, of those talents, which would infallibly have raised him to that eminence, which his virtues peculiarly qualified him to adorn.

the offspring of this marriage.

Besides my friend George, a daughter was also With these two children, and with an income, at best, but limited, Mrs. Donville had to contend with the cares and anxieties of the world, a widow at the age of twenty. Her first care was to ascertain her income with the nicest precision, and then to assume a real independence, by making it more than sufficient for her wants. For no maxim is so indisputably certain, as that independence does not arise from extent of income, but from proportion of expenditure; and that the man who calls himself the master of thousands, is but a poor dependent, if these proportions are violated.

In the contemplation of Mrs. Donville, the bitterest ingredient in the cup of poverty was ignorance; and to save her children from this real evil, constituted her greatest solicitude. To accommodate herself to the narrowness of her cir'cumstances, she determined to undertake their entire education, and had already resolved that, as far as the mind was concerned, no distinction should exist in the acquisitions either of her son or daughter. Having thus determined, it became immediately necessary to acquire the requisite knowledge of the classics, mathematical science, and the several branches of a liberal education.