nal distance. When the intoxication of passion, however, is over, when the transient motives for restraint and concealment are gone, both characters will re-appear in their true colours, with little modification and little improvement. Some habits, it is true, may be changed, but the general qualities will remain, to disturb and embitter, or, on the other hand, to soothe and sweeten domestic life.

The doctrine here insisted upon will, I am aware, be stigmatized as disheartening, and tending to discourage all attempts at moral improvement. To this it would be a sufficient reply that the doctrine is true, since what is true in the science of human nature must, on the whole, be productive of advantage; and it cannot lessen the happiness of mankind to prevent them from cherishing false hopes and embarking in fruitless enterprises. But it is not necessary to resort to this abstract kind of answer. All that is requisite is to guard the doctrine from misconception, by bringing into distinct view the limitation which is implied by the phrase, radical properties of character. There is a difficulty, indeed, in defining what

these are, in contra-distinguishing them from such as are adventitious, but this is a difficulty which belongs rather to speculation than to practice. It does not require any extraordinary sagacity to discover, in men with whom we are intimately acquainted, those radical or constitutional qualities which seem to make up their very individuality, and which they are destined to carry with them to the grave.

While in these radical properties we can expect little or no change, there is still a wide field for moral improvement in the adventitious principles of action. Habits may at all times be altered, and it is to these chiefly that the moralist applies his manus emendatrix; it is here that he looks for his proudest triumphs.

Men, in a word, are like metals which possess properties capable of being in some degree modified, but which always retain certain distinctive characteristics. We may throw a piece of silver into the form of a sword, but we cannot superinduce upon it the peculiar hardness or lustre of steel. And so we may train a timid man in the habits of a soldier, and teach him to face a battery or storm a

citadel, but it is impossible to infuse into him that uncalculating boldness which seeks danger as its natural element and sports with death.

The same doctrine is true of human nature in general, as well as of individual character. Enterprises often fail from an inattention to the truth, that although a strong motive may impel mankind to act for a short time contrary to their usual course, yet it is not able to contend in the long run with their permanent principles of action. Thus, projects commenced with spirit and ardour are abandoned when the first impulse has ceased. New institutions are supported with vigour, but gradually lapse into neglect and decay, as all institutions will inevitably do which depend for their success on extraordinary fervour and enthusiasm, and have not a basis in the common and continually recurring motives of the human mind; and it is curious to remark how soon the best institutions are perverted when these constant motives are acting in opposition to those of a more fugitive, although, while they last, of a more vigorous character. This has been largely exemplified in the mal

administration of charitable funds. The never closing eye of self-interest is continually on the watch for opportunities of gainful appropriation, while the vigilance which guards the treasure is the transitory effort of a mind prompted by occasional incitement. It is easy to see what must be the result.

Farewell.

F. R.

LETTER IX.

The Fate of Female Beauty-General Homage and Flattery in Youth-Brilliant Hopes and Prospects-Change in after

life.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

A few days ago I unexpectedly met with a lady whom I dare say you recollect under the name of Sophia D as one of the most beautiful girls you ever saw. What a change in a few years! I was thunder-struck to recognise, in the coarse, insipid, corpulent Mrs. B—, the same being who at eighteen had fascinated every eye that gazed upon her by the graceful slenderness of her form, the delicate bloom of her complexion, and the sprightliness of her looks.

On inquiring into her history since I had lost sight of her, I found it a very commonplace one. After coquetting with a young man who was deeply smitten with her charms, but who had little to recommend him except