Accounting for his remarkable attainments, the biographer thus speaks: "By the force of his own genius, by the exclusion of temptations to indolence, by habits of early rising, by a frequent interchange of employment, and by strict adherence to regularity of plan, so much was accomplished." After enumerating a long list of his extraordinary acquirements, it is said, that the relaxations which he chose for himself, were general reading, and rational conversation; these were his amusements.

Then came the following manuscript.

"I am an only child, and my mamma was always very fond of me, only she would send me to school. When I went home last vacation, grandmamma made me a present of a real diamond ring; but Mrs. L does not like me to wear it. I hope I shall go and see grand-mamma again next Christmas. I am ten years old. I am learning music, and French, and geography, and to net purses; the latter of which I like pretty well: this is all I can think of."

The next evening was occupied by some account of the early piety, and subsequent religious attainments of Madame Guion. The manuscript which succeeded was as follows.

"M. N. had the happiness to possess very kind and pious parents. She enjoyed so many advantages under their care, that it was surprising she did not profit more by them. There were many

faults in her temper, which they endeavored to subdue; and it is hoped that her own efforts added to their kind admonitions will, in some degree, prove successful. They took great pains, especially, to impress her mind with religion; and though she has been often very thoughtless, and has broken many resolutions, yet I hope—yet it is hoped, the impression will never wear off. Her kind parents sent her to Mrs. L's school at the age of eleven; wishing her to attain every kind of knowledge that might be useful to her. Here she had great advantages, which were not improved as they might have been. However, she did take some pleasure in her pursuits; and sometimes felt a glow of delight to think, that as others of whom she had read, made great proficiency with fewer opportunities, that she also might, by diligence, do the same. It was a great encouragement to her to recollect, that it is industry, rather than genius, that is oftenest crowned with success. M. N. thought she should never forget the kindness of her governess; and that she should always cherish an affectionate remembrance of her school-fellows."

It will readily be believed, that this last little history was heard with a smile of affectionate approbation by Mrs. L. When they had arrived at the conclusion of the manuscripts, she spoke to the young people to this effect.

"My dear girls, I would gladly have spared

you any pain you may have felt from this contrast of your own characters and attainments with those of others, if I had not hoped some good might result from it. You have felt the contrast, some of you have, I am sure. I wished you to do so; but not for your discouragement; far otherwise. Happily it is not the whole of your lives that these little histories comprehend. It is not, then, too late for any of you to become excellent; -to become as superior to what you now are, as these individuals were to the generality of those around them. It is not yet too late for you to excel in any useful attainment: there is no proud spirit, or evil temper but may yet be subdued; no bad habit but may be conquered; no good one but may be acquired. That your talents, or even your virtues, should become celebrated, is indeed neither probable nor desirable; but that you may, each in your separate spheres, attain to moral, and even to mental superiority, is not only very desirable, but very probable, I might almost say, certain, if you so determine;-if you exert energy of mind, and resolve that it shall be so; and if you humbly, but diligently persevere in the right means. Come," said she, returning the papers to their respective writers, "you may now destroy these histories if you please; determining that they shall no longer be applicable to yourselves; and resolving henceforward so to act that your characters may supply records, at which you

need not blush at a future day. It may be useful to you to bear in mind this idea; and to inquire, from time to time, if you are pursuing that course, which would be likely to furnish good materials to your biographer."

XV.

THE PHILOSOPHER'S SCALES.

IN days of yore, as Gothic fable tells,
When learning dimly gleamed from grated cells,
When wild Astrology's distorted eye

Shunned the fair field of true philosophy,

And wandering through the depths of mental night,
Sought dark predictions 'mid the worlds of light:-
When curious Alchymy, with puzzled brow,
Attempted things that Science laughs at now,
Losing the useful purpose she consults,
In vain chimeras and unknown results:-
In those gray times there lived a reverend sage,
Whose wisdom shed its lustre on the age.
A monk he was, immured in cloistered walls,
Where now the ivy'd ruin crumbling falls.
"T was a profound seclusion that he chose;
The noisy world disturbed not that repose:
The flow of murmuring waters, day by day,
And whistling winds that forced their tardy way
Through reverend trees, of ages growth that made,

Around the holy pile a deep monastic shade;
The chanted psalm, or solitary prayer-

Such were the sounds that broke the silence there.

"T was here, when his rites sacerdotal were o'er,
In the depth of his cell with its stone-covered floor,
Resigning to thought his chimerical brain,
He formed the contrivance we now shall explain:
But whether by magic or alchymy's powers,
We know not, indeed 't is no business of ours:
Perhaps it was only by patience and care,
At last that he brought his invention to bear.
In youth 't was projected; but years stole away,
And ere 't was complete he was wrinkled and gray;
But success is secure unless energy fails;

And at length he produced The Philosopher's Scales.

What were they?—you ask: you shall presently see;
These scales were not made to weigh sugar and tea;
O no;-for such properties wondrous had they,
That qualities, feelings, and thoughts they could weigh;
Together with articles small or immense,

From mountains or planets, to atoms of sense:
Nought was there so bulky, but there it could lay;
And nought so ethereal, but there it would stay;
And nought so reluctant, but in it must go;
All which some examples more clearly will show.

The first thing he tried was the head of Voltaire, Which retained all the wit that had ever been there; As a weight, he threw in a torn scrap of a leaf, Containing the prayer of the penitent thief;