which this rule does not apply-where both arms uniting to express a combination of feelings must necessarily occupy separate positions-but, as a general principle, its reasonableness and correctness must be self-evident. Its violation, through awkwardness or inattention, is just another manifestation of that "sawing of the air," which all students of nature, from Shakspeare downwards, have condemned as a deformity. Nature must preside over the movements of the body, as well as the modulation of the voice. To gesticulate from the mere impulse of intention, is the reverse of nature; it is mere affectation, and the source of much that is vulgar and grotesque.

The eye and hand should uniformly accompany each other. The eye is supposed to see its object an instant or two before the hand arrives at it-the language, or rather the idea it embodies, becoming the index to the eye, as the eye is to the hand-yet so closely do they unite to describe the thing signified, the sentiment of love, or fear, or surprise,—that they seem to form one simultaneous movement. Like the natural daybreak, it cannot be discerned when the one state is, and the other is not; so imperceptibly does each glide into the other. The thought is seen, enunciated, and personated, with such instantaneousness, that it is difficult to say when the one act terminates and the other begins. Nor is the hand always last in the order of expression-the eye may return to the object, and, by a look of recognition, confirm the impression already made. One presiding influence so controls a series of agents, that, as they move, they reciprocate upon each other the living principle which first called them into action

"All are but parts of one congenial whole,

Whose body Nature is, and Mind the soul."

SELECTIONS.

PART FIRST-MORAL AND RELIGIOUS.

CONVERSATION.

NEVER speak anything for a truth which you know or believe to be false. Lying is a great sin against God, who gave us a tongue to speak the truth, and not falsehood. It is a great offence against humanity itself; for, where there is no regard to truth, there can be no safe society between man and man. And it is an injury to the speaker; for, besides the disgrace which it brings upon him, it occasions so much baseness of mind, that he can scarcely tell truth, or avoid lying, even when he has no colour of necessity for it; and, in time, he comes to such a pass, that as other people cannot believe he speaks truth, so he himself scarcely knows when he tells a falsehood.

As you must be careful not to lie, so you must avoid coming near it. You must not equivocate, nor speak any thing positively for which you have no authority but report, or conjecture, or opinion.

Let your words be few, especially when your superiors, or strangers, are present, lest you betray your own weakness, and rob yourselves of the opportunity, which you might otherwise have had, to gain knowledge, wisdom, and experience, by hearing those whom you silence by your impertinent talking.

Be not too earnest, loud, or violent in your conversation. Silence your opponent with reason, not with noise..

Be careful not to interrupt another when he is speaking hear him out, and you will understand him the better, and be able to give him the better answer.

Consider before you speak, especially when the business is of moment; weigh the sense of what you mean to utter, and the expressions you intend to use, that they may be significant, pertinent, and inoffensive. Inconsiderate persons do not think till they speak; or they speak, and then think.

Some men excel in husbandry, some in gardening, some in mathematics. In conversation, learn, as near as you can, where the skill or excellence of any person lies; put him upon talking on that subject, observe what he says, keep it in your memory, or commit it to writing. By this means you will glean the worth and knowledge of everybody you converse with; and, at an easy rate, acquire what may be of use to you on many occasions.

When you are in company with light, vain, impertinent persons, let the observing of their failings make you the more cautious both in your conversation with them and in your general behaviour, that you may avoid their errors.

If any one whom you do not know to be a person of truth, sobriety, and weight, relates strange stories, be not too ready to believe or report them; and yet (unless he is one of your familiar acquaintance) be not too forward to contradict him. If the occasion requires you to declare your opinion, do it modestly and gently, not bluntly nor coarsely. By this means you will avoid giving offence, or being abused for too much credulity.

If a man, whose integrity you do not very well know, makes you great and extraordinary professions, do not give much credit to him. Probably, you will find that he aims at something besides kindness to you, and that when he has served his turn, or been disappointed, his regard for you will grow cool.

Beware also of him who flatters you, and commends you to your face, or to one who he thinks will tell you of it; most probably he has either deceived and abused you, or means to do so. Remember the fable of the fox commending the singing of the crow, who had something in her mouth which the fox wanted.

Be careful that you do not commend yourselves. It is a sign that your reputation is small and sinking, if your own tongue must praise you; and it is fulsome and unpleasing to others to hear such commendations.

Speak well of the absent whenever you have a suitable

opportunity. Never speak ill of them, or of anybody, unless you are sure they deserve it, and unless it is necessary for their amendment, or for the safety and benefit of others. Avoid, in your ordinary communications, not only oaths, but all imprecations and earnest protestations.

Forbear scoffing and jesting at the condition or natural defects of any person. Such offences leave a deep impression; and they often cost a man dear.

Be very careful that you give no reproachful, menacing, or spiteful words to any person. Good words make friends; bad words make enemies. It is great prudence to gain as many friends as we honestly can, especially when it may be done at so easy a rate as a good word; and it is great folly to make an enemy by ill words, which are of no advantage to the party who uses them. When faults are committed, they may, and by a superior they must, be reproved; but let it be done without reproach or bitterness; otherwise it will lose its due end and use, and, instead of reforming the offence, it will exasperate the offender, and lay the reprover justly open to reproof.

If a person be passionate, and give you ill language, rather pity him than be moved to anger. You will find that silence, or very gentle words, are the most exquisite revenge for reproaches; they will either cure the distemper in the angry man, and make him sorry for his passion, or they will be a severe reproof and punishment to him. But at any rate, they will preserve your innocence, give you the deserved reputation of wisdom and moderation, and keep up the serenity and composure of your mind. Passion and anger make a man unfit for every thing that becomes him as a man or as a Christian.-SIR MATTHEW HALE.

THE SHIP-A METAPHOR.

The man was very poor, and one of those poor men who never make it any better. Always so laggard and so listless, he looked as if he had come into the world with only half his soul. Having no fondness for exertion, he had great faith in windfalls; and once or twice he was favoured with a windfall; but, as he took no pains to secure it and turn it to account, the same fickle element which brought it soon wafted it away. His character was gone; his principles, never firm, were fast decaying; and, betwixt laziness

and bad habits, he was little better than the ruin of a man. He had a brother far away; but so many years had come and gone since last he was seen in those regions, that he was faintly recollected. Indeed, so long since was it, that this man had no remembrance of him. But one evening a messenger came to him, telling him that his brother lived, and, in token of his love, had sent him the present of a gallant ship with all its cargo. The man was in a heartless mood. He was sitting in his dingy chamber; no fire on the hearth, no loaf in the cupboard, no pence in his pocket, no credit in that neighbourhood, bleak weather in the world, bleak feelings in his soul. And as with folded arms he perched on an empty chest and listened to the news, he neither wondered nor rejoiced. Sure enough it was a windfall; but he was not just then in a romantic or wistful mood, and so he heard it sullenly. No; he neither danced nor capered, neither laughed nor shouted, but coldly walked away-scarcely hoping, scarcely caring to find it true. And when, at last, he reached the port and espied the ship, it dispelled all his boyish dreams of Eastern merchantmen. The masts were not palms, with silken cords furling the purple sails; nor did its bulwarks gild the water, and its beams of sandal scent the air. It was much like the barques around it-chafed and weathered, and bleached by the billows, and bore no outward token of a gorgeous freight. But stepping on board, as soon as the master of the vessel knew who he was, he addressed him respectfully, and descanted with glowing warmth on the glories and generosity of his absent brother, and then invited him below to feast his eyes on his new possession. There was gold, and the red ingots looked so rich, and weighed in the hand so heavy; there were robes, stiff with embroidery, and bright with ruby and sapphire stars; there were spices such as the fervid sun distils from the fragrant soil in that exuberant zone, and dainties such as only load the tropic trees. Nor in the wealthy invoice had forethought and affection omitted any good; for there were even some herbs and anodynes of singular power; a balm which healed envenomed wounds; an ointment which brought back the failing sight; a cordial which kept from fainting; and a preparation which made the wearer proof against the fire. And there was a bulky parchment, the title-deeds to a large domain somewhere in that sunny land; and along with all a letter,