whenever an idea or a principle becomes imbued in the mind, or a sentiment of the heart, it will influence the character and conduct, even when not present in form and language. You may observe it every where in society. One, well acquainted with another, can trace his actions up to their secret springs, through all the ingenious sophistry, with which the intellect has covered them, and when the man himself is scarcely conscious of their existence. Now, it is this abiding impression upon the mind of certain truths in thought and action, which I would have all young men possess. 2. Another great mistake in the young men of this country is the multiplicity of their studies and employments,-a frittering away of their mind and time. The world contains few admirable Crichtons,few of those who can acquire and retain knowledge, upon all subjects, and exercise it equally well, at all times, and upon all occasions. The great principle of a separation of departments, and a division of labor, is constantly taught and illustrated by the mechanic arts. Who would think of being, at once, his own shoemaker, tailor, and carpenter? Yet would it not be quite as proper, as for a young man to attempt being, at once, lawyer, poet, statesman, musician, linguist, lecturer, and naturalist? I am aware that much of this mixing up of pursuits, belongs rather to the youth and condition of our country, than to the errors of its inhabitants: Still much also belongs to the latter cause. There is no small disposition to play the charlatan among a people, who pride themselves upon their ready wit and vigorous enterprise, rather than upon any love for abstruse learning, or, deep science. Are there not enough of collateral studies in each profession to occupy the whole time of the student to master them, without taking in the whole circle of the arts and sciences? And would not the young lawyer or physician be better rewarded, both in fame and profit, by devoting himself to his profession than by sharing it with many others? Not that he should have no relaxation, or amusement of mind; but let him seek them in the charms of social life, and the contemplation of nature; in the graces of conversation, and the cultivation of every good disposition and every useful purpose. These will furnish occupation of mind and heart, in those hours when they seek relief from the urgency of business, or the abstraction of study. They will do more than that; they will furnish a source of happiness, independent of time, chance, or mutation. But remember that steady perseverance in one pursuit, and towards one object, is essential to success. The human mind has been compared, not improperly, to a burningglass, whose rays are intense, in proportion as they are concentrated. The one burns only, when its light is converged at the focal point, and the other illuminates the world of science, only when it is directed to one object. 3. Another fault of young men, ambitious of distinction, is too strong a love of popularity. The love of fame is said to be the master passion of great minds. This may be so, but popularity and fame are widely different. The former is the temporary admiration of men, however unenlightened; the latter is the enduring tribute paid to greatness, by other nations, and distant generations. The first is the praise, bestowed upon some petty demagogue, who has his hour upon the stage, and is heard of no more; the last is the reputa The Errors of Youth. 197 tion of Cato, who, despising the clamors of the populace, yet lives on the records of time, and in the admiration of posterity. The one is a falling light, generated in miasm, and fading into mist; the other is a fixed star, permanent in the heavens, and gazed at by men, from age to age, and from generation to generation. Popularity is, doubtless, an agreeable thing. It gratifies our vanity. It is easier to go with the current than against it. It is pleasant to be greeted with the smiles of men, and their loud applause is most grateful music to the ears of ambition. But, popularity neither makes right, nor wrong; neither coins money, nor gives a good conscience; neither places you higher in the estimation of the wise, nor increases your stock of knowledge. But it does intoxicate the giddy head with a dream of vanity, and tempts its hopes with a vision of power,insubstantial and unstable. Popularity is always fleeting, always capricious, always fickle. You have heard of the dangers of the fickle waves. The waves of the people are not less so, than the waves of the ocean. A wind cometh, you know not whence, and raiseth them into tumultuous violence; then sinks again and leaves a calm, peaceful and safe; how they rush against this shore, then against that! now uncover the rock, and now bury it in the mountain billow! · How frail the strength, how insecure the fate of the bark, that floats upon that agitated surface! But there is a popularity, which you may seek, and not fear either its blandishments or its caprice. I can express it best by the famous saying of a great man,-Lord Mansfield. "I wish popularity; but it is that popularity which follows; not that which is run after. It is that popularity, which, sooner or later, never fails to do justice to the pursuit of noble ends by noble means.” Such is the praise so ardently desired by all great minds. But it is plain that such a fame rests upon a very different foundation from the temporary applause, which follows the demagogue, or the hero of the day. The latter is not unfrequently, however unconscious he may be of it, the mere Punch of the puppet show, a thing for the populace to applaud, wonder and laugh at, but which soon sinks into contempt and oblivion. Would you have a real, pure, enduring fame? Then go to the sources of knowledge and virtue. Build upon them first a capacity, then a disposition, to do good. With these faculties, go forth upon the great theatre of the world. Mingle with your fellow-men in the vocation to which you have been called, and whether your walk be that of literature or science, business or contest, your career will be both useful and brilliant, your name treasured in the hearts and memories of other generations. 4. Another of the errors of youth is the indulgence of too sanguine views of life, and, consequently, too bitter disappointments. Perhaps this is not so much an error, as a characteristic of early manhood. Hope and pleasure wait upon the young. Their blood flows swiftly ; health is on the breeze; their bark is gaily and richly freighted, and every sail is filled. It is not wonderful, that they cannot see in the pure and quiet waters, reflecting every image above, and not concealing even the coral or the minnow beneath, a shadow of that dark cloud, which to many brings danger and tempest, doubts and darkness! Yet, one would think that even the most sanguine youth ought. VOL. V. 38 198 The Errors of Youth. to have seen enough in the experience of others, and read enough in the book of knowledge, to know that the paths of this world are not always smooth; nor are they always successfully traversed. Genius and even excellence itself are sometimes neglected, and often toils and trouble are unrewarded. It is true, this is an unusual case. But, how common is it, to see those, who, with good capacity and opportunities, overrating their talents, or mistaking their profession, or misapplying their time, have expected that reward and applause, which the world thought undeserved, and would not grant? Those, who are neglected from other causes, will generally be found to have some peculiar characteristics, as a morbid sensibility, or extreme hauteur, which repels the advances of favor and approbation. Against the indulgence of such feelings, and the existence of such manners, guard yourself as you would against poison and the plague. Your intimate friends may endure them, but the world at large make not the slightest allowance for them. Beware of eccentricity without genius. Beware of holding men in contempt; in the general, they do not deserve it; and when they do, remember that the smallest insect has a sting; and of all things living, human folly is the readiest to seek and inflict vengeance upon its real or supposed enemies. But, I was speaking of too sanguine anticipations. The worst evil of their indulgence is the disappointment in which they result. It is not unusual to see a young man enter upon his profession with high connections, brilliant education, and with a belief that he has but to announce himself, and business will flow from every quarter upon him ; that every contest will be a victory; that popular favor will shine upon him; and, in the long distance, he sees his country's honors courting his acceptance. Now, as objects of ambition, these things are right enough; but, the difficulty is, that few look at them, in connection with the means by which only they can be attained. The aspirant sits in his office,-studies, perhaps, for a time, and then learns to neglect those precious hours, in which he might have acquired an armory of weapons for the warfare of learning and eloquence; he either scorns the multitude, or seeks their favor by those arts, which place him, at once, on the low level of demagogues and pettifoggers; time rolls on, and the rush of business passes by his door; he grows sour, and either laments the peculiarity of his misfortunes, or curses the obstinate malevolence of the world. If his desires and thoughts are vulgar, he seeks relief in pleasure and intemperance; if he be of acute sensibility, and lofty pride, he indulges in a morbid cynicism, which soon turns every feeling of his soul into selfishness within, and bitterness towards the world. What have the world to do with his errors and his follies? It could add nothing to, nor take any thing away from his capacity to do, or his moral power to stand or fall. But, how many, who began with the highest promise, have thus run, and thus terminated their career! As I look upon the catalogue of my early associates, how many do I find, who have gone down to the grave, the victims of their own errors, and of their own vices! How many more, who yet stand upon the shores of the living,— "Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse, In conclusion, be not too sanguine in the morning nor too much cast down in the decline of your hopes. There is no prospect so fair that it may not be darkened; none so gloomy that it may not be brightened. Weak minds are puffed up with unreasonable expectations, and carried away with every wind of vanity, and depressed with every adverse gale; not so with strong ones, they are neither deceived by false hopes, nor sink under adversity. It is the true criterion of noble and great minds, to have that modest yet inflexible self-dependence, which bears, with equal composure, the blandishments and the frowns of fortune. It is true of them, as the poet speaks of cities, "Their self-dependent power shall time defy, Cincinnati, August 12, 1833. D. M. MY BOOKS. NO. IX. DR. CHANNING'S ESSAY ON THE CHARACTER OF BONAPARte. "WHY don't you, my boy, write something solid, and let alone this light and trivial stuff? Why don't you give them a real sober, substantial, argumentative piece?" "Father, what you call a real solid article would not be read, and ten to one my publisher would not accept of it for his Magazine. He understands what sort of wares sell well in the reading market, and consults his own interest by consulting the popular taste." "No, no, boy, I can't believe all that. Your publisher, as you call him, is a man of sense, and would appreciate a sound essay; he is a man of independence, and would publish what he himself likes; he is a man of good principles, and wishes to elevate instead of servilely obeying the popular taste. You will lose his respect by writing such trash as your school-boy anecdotes of grammars and dictionaries. I insist on your sending him a carefully written article, which may give him a fair specimen of what you can do. There is your article on Dr. Channing's Review of the Character of Napoleon, if you would let Mr. B. have that, it would do tolerably well." Why, Father, I am a little afraid that your democratic partiality for Bonaparte makes you like that article rather more than the good aristocratic Bostonians would. Besides, sir, the article was written two years ago, when my opinions differed somewhat from their present character, and contains some severe reflections on the excellent divine whose production it reviews ;-it might possibly give offence to his friends." "Pshaw! a difference of opinion, boldly and decidedly expressed, cannot offend any man of sense. At all events, on a subject so important as the character of Napoleon, you should not fear to let your sentiments be known, although the declaration of them may offend I should like to see that article in print, particularly since the some. * No political phenomenon is more strange than this democratic admiration of a military despot. 200 My Books. Doctor's own article is to go down to posterity in the permanent form of a book." "Well, sir, I will send it to Mr. B.; but I shall tell him that it was written for a debating club in a rather stormy style, and that, so far as its reflections on Dr. Channing are concerned, it meets my present disapprobation, although I still retain my former opinion of Bonaparte, and rank him among the first three' giants of greatness that have towered up above the generality of their race. But there are few of Mr. B's readers, I apprehend, who will thank me for granting your request." And now for the DEFENCE OF NAPOLEON. The actions and character of Napoleon Bonaparte are now matter of history. He is dead-he, who, for twenty years, was the master of Europe;-he, who, born in an unknown corner of an insignificant island, to neither wealth nor distinction, in less than thirty years, spread his name a broad and living glory over the world; in less than forty, elevated himself on a throne more magnificent and powerful than that of the Cæsars; in less than fifty, changed the political face of Christendom; and, in less than sixty, effected revolutions and begun operations that all coming time shall continue to wonder at, and admire. He is dead; and the sepulchre, that covers his dust, should stand unpolluted alike by the sacrilege of enemies, or the sacrifices of mistaking friends. We would approach it in the spirit of candor; with our hearts free from the passions of partizans; anxious to learn for ourselves, and for our children, the lessons of wisdom which his life may afford. We believe ourselves moved by this honesty of purpose, when we lift up our voices against that intolerant and unjust spirit, which, as we think, characterises the work now under consideration. We lament that we are called on to censure, in any manner, the sentiments of a writer whose literary and private character are so highly exalted as are those of Dr. Channing; but, considering his opinions in the present case, false, unjust, and likely to attain, by means of his name, undue prevalence, we cannot forbear our censure. The calumny of the Holy Alliance should not, even under the sanction of so great a name, be allowed to gain credence in American hearts. We have the privilege of impartial and unbiassed thought. Let us apply it to the case in hand. Dr. Channing's remarks on the character of Bonaparte are prefaced by an encomium on the impartiality and fairness of Walter Scott's Life of that great man. Had we never read a sentence beyond this, knowing, as we now know, the genuine character of Scott's work, we should have pronounced the opinion of the critic, with regard to Napoleon himself, utterly wrong. Scott's impartiality is justly called, by Mr. Walsh, 66 an equivocal candor;" it is all cant. He was inspired throughout by the genuine sentiments of an Englishman and a Tory; and his unfairness has been exposed with equal indignation by the fraternal defence of Lucien Bonaparte; and by the (in this instance,) candid Secretary Bourrienne. It was our lot to read aloud the work of Scott on its first appearance, to two several individuals, whose memories ran back as far as the Italian campaigns, and who both cried out against |