HUMANITY.

GENTLENESS, which belongs to virtue, is to be carefully distinguished from the mean spirit of cowards, and the fawning assent of sycophants. It renounces no just right from fear it gives up no important truth from flattery :—it is, indeed, not only consistent with a firm mind, but it necessarily requires a manly spirit and a fixed principle in order to give it any real value.

It stands opposed to harshness and severity-to pride and arrogance to violence and oppression: it is, properly, that part of the real virtue, charity, which makes us unwilling to give pain to any of our brethren. It corrects whatever is offensive in our manners, and, by a constant train of humane attentions, studies to alleviate the burden of common misery. Its office is therefore extensive ;-it is continually in action, when we are engaged in intercourse with men. It ought to form our address, to regulate our speech, and to diffuse itself over our whole behaviour.

That gentleness, which is characteristic of a good man, has, like every other virtue, its seat in the heart. In that unaffected civility which springs from a gentle mind, there is a charm, infinitely more powerful than in all the studied manners of the most finished courtier.

It is founded on a sense of what we owe to Him who made us, and to the common nature of which we all share. It arises from reflection on our own failings and wants; and from just views of the condition and duty of man. It is native feeling, heightened and improved by principle. It is the heart which easily relents; which feels for every thing that is human; and is backward and slow to inflict the least wound. It is affable in its address, and mild in its demeanour; ever ready to oblige, and be obliged by others; breathing habitual kindness towards friends, courtesy to strangers, long suffering to enemies.

It exercises authority with moderation;-administers reproof with tenderness;-confers favours with care and modesty. It is unassuming in opinion, and temperate in zeal ;— it contends not eagerly about trifles ;-slow to contradict, and still slower to blame, but prompt to allay dissension and restore peace. It neither intermeddles with the affairs, nor pries inquisitively into the secrets of others. It delights above all things to alleviate distress; and, if it cannot dry up the falling tear, to soothe at least the grieving heart. Where it has not the power of being useful it is never

burdensome. It seeks to please rather than shine and dazzle, and conceals with care that superiority, either of talents or of rank, which are oppressive to those who are beneath it. It is the great avenue to mutual enjoyment: amidst the strife of interfering interests, it tempers the violence of contention, and keeps alive the seeds of harmony. It softens animosities, renews endearments, and renders the countenance of man a refreshment to man. It prepossesses and wins every heart. It persuades when every other argument fails often disarms the fierce, and melts the stubborn.

:

To the man of humanity, the world is generally disposed to ascribe every other good quality; of its influence all in some degree partake, and therefore all love it.

The man of this character rises in the world without struggle, and flourishes without envy: his misfortunes are universally lamented, and his failings are easily forgiven. The inward tranquillity which it promotes is the first requisite of every pleasurable feeling. It is the calm and clear atmosphere, the serenity and sunshine of the mind.

Attacked by great injuries, the man of mild and gentle spirit will feel what human nature feels; and will defend and resent as his duty allows him: but to slight provocations he is happily superior. Inspired with noble sentiments, taught to regard, with indulgent eye, the frailties of men, the omissions of the careless, the follies of the imprudent, and the levity of the fickle; he retreats into the calmness of his spirit, as into an undisturbed sanctuary, and quietly allows the usual current of life to hold its course.— Dr. BLAIR.

So hath it perish'd like a thing of air,

The dream of Love and Youth!-Now, both are gray;
Yet still remembering that delightful day,

Though Time with his cold touch hath blanched my

hair,

Though I have suffer'd many years of pain

Since then; though I did never think to live

To hear that voice or see those eyes again,

I can a sad, but cordial greeting give,

And for thy welfare breathe as warm a prayer,

Lady, as when I loved thee young and fair !-W. L. BOWLES.

FLATTERY, SLANDER, AND TRUTH.

HARDLY any thing is more gratifying to the taste of our times, than the exhibition of well-drawn characters. Every individual who has been in any way distinguished is sure to be pourtrayed and held up to the eye of the public; and where accurate delineations, finished in the highest style, are not to be obtained, even sketches, rude and hasty as they may be, are not altogether unacceptable. There are three females of great notoriety in the world, whom I now wish to introduce and present to the reader. Considering the figure which they make, and the influence which they confessedly possess and exert, it has been a subject of surprise to me that no account of them has yet appeared.

Flattery has a delicate frame-a loose silken dress of evervarying hues-and a soft, silent, insinuating gait, which it is not easy to imitate or describe. Her florid countenance wears a perpetual smile, and her melting voice steals upon the ear, and often thrills, with agreeable sensations, every fibre of the heart. She paints and perfumes with wonderful art, and purveys delicacies for the great with unwearied assiduity; so that she carries her pallet and colours, her incense-box and honey-pot, into all companies; but these things being cautiously wrapt in a fold of her garment, they can only be seen by a penetrating and practised observer. A more wily and dangerous enchantress does not exist on the face of the earth and yet she is the very life and soul of the fashionable world: for, when she is absent, the whole region is filled with vapours and complaints. I am told that she is a special favourite at court, and that the soothing whisper of her voice never fails to give a fine flow of spirits to a bevy of beauties, or a band of gallants. Nor are her visits unfrequent in the walks of literature, where authors, who ought to know better, may be seen snuffing up her incense, and devouring her dainty morsels, with no small satisfaction. You might be pleased with some specimens of her eloquence, but the difficulty of doing justice to them, or the chance of losing their ethereal spirit, induces me to decline any attempt of this kind. Indeed, it is not necessary for her always to speak her obsequious and bewitching manner, and her flattering attentions and assiduities, are such as cannot be easily resisted. Nay, morewhen she is even absent, her influence may be perceived by the pictures she has drawn, the perfumes she has scattered, and the luscious sweets she has prepared and left behind

her. All these Vanity takes care to preserve as long as they will keep, and sits at ease to gaze and regale upon them.

The second personage I have to delineate is Slander. Dark, deformed, hideous, and malignant-this pest almost baffles description. Her dwelling has the blast of barrenness around it:

Here foul-mouth'd Slander lies reclined,
Her snaky tresses hiss behind;

A bloated toad-stool bears her head,
The plumes of ravens are her bed;

She feeds upon the viper's brood,

And slakes her impious thirst with blood.

When Flattery paints, she makes a lavish use of gay and pleasing colours; when Slander tries her hand in the same art, she always caricatures and calumniates. Flattery bears about luxuries and sweet odours; Slander carries a vial, filled with the essence of henbane, hemlock, and deadly nightshade. She also employs scavengers to rake up and collect the most noxious and offensive matter, which she bottles up for the hateful purpose of aspersing and blackening the fairest characters. Wherever this foetid and pclluted fluid falls, it leaves a blot which it is very difficult to

remove.

Slander has an acute ear, a prying, penetrative eye, and a shrill, powerful voice. Her limbs, too, are active, and so lubricated that she often slips from the vengeful hands of those who determine to chastise her. One might, indeed, presume that a general conspiracy would be formed to hunt down and destroy this vile monster; but, strange as it may seem, though every one dreads her touch and her tongue as regards himself, most people take pleasure in beholding the mischief she does among their neighbours, or in hearing and interpreting the echoes of her voice. You must know, there is a meagre, ill-favoured urchin, called Envy, who acts as her prompter, and is ever and anon feigning some new, or vamping up some old scandals for her use. With this busy, base-born, cunning assistant, she gets more materials, and finds more acceptance, than any one would believe, were not facts before our eyes.

Though, as I before said, Slander has a set of senses, nerves, and muscles, by no means deficient in acuteness and vigour, yet to these powers of nature are superadded all the inventions and resources of art. She has two trumpets; one to gain intelligence of every thing passing, and the other

to communicate it. When she takes her post in the tower of observation, and adjusts her ear-trumpet, the reports of the town and district, however faint, are distinctly heard, so that not a whisper escapes her. Yes; her tunnels and conductors are constructed in a manner which enables her to catch the very shadow of a sound. But who can describe the effects of her speaking-trumpet ?-Strife and discord wake up at the blast. A thousand echoes repeat what she utters, and, after dying away, return at distant intervals. Slander, besides these instruments for receiving and communicating intelligence, carries a quiver full of poisoned arrows, which she shoots with such dexterity as seldom to miss her mark. When, in the dusk of evening, she sallies from her tower with these deadly weapons, the most worthy and meritorious are the first victims of her malice. If she misses her aim, which is sometimes the case, she stands for a time thunderstruck, paralyzed, and pilloried in the grasp of Shame.

The third personage I have to introduce is Truth. Her person is majestic and noble, her dress sober and becoming, her step and movement firm, decisive, and energetic. In her countenance we neither see the florid colour and forced smile of Flattery, nor the livid paleness and repulsive frown of Slander. There is nothing in her aspect, voice, or manner which betrays weakness and effeminacy, but much that reminds us of the severe and awful beauty of the immortals. To the good offices of this unassuming, but illustrious personage, society is infinitely indebted. Slander often slinks away at the sound of her voice; and Flattery can never bear the lightning of her eye. Much of her employment is to detect and counteract the mischiefs which they do. She has an apparatus which washes away the gaudy colours laid on by the hand of Adulation, and wipes out the dark stains imprinted by Calumny. She carries in one hand a measure called the Golden Rule, and in the other a mirror named Sincerity. With the former, she ascertains the limits of right and wrong; with the latter, exposes all the artifices of falsehood and deceit. I have seen Fraud and Treachery, by the first reflection of this mirror, start up in all their dark and horrid forms.

Slander will not, if possible, stay where Truth comes, and always strenuously objects to the use of what she calls her magic glass. It is a curious sight to see these two warmly contending. Not long ago I witnessed one of their contests. Slander raised a hideous cry, and a thick cloud of dust, searching for her trumpets and her quiver; Truth pressed