Another thing slowly learnt is that we have no reason or right to be angry with people because they think poorly of us.  This is a truth which most people find it very hard to accept, and at which, probably, very few arrive without pretty long thought and experience.  Most people are angry, when they are informed that some one has said that their ability is small, or that their proficiency in any art is limited.  Mrs. Malaprop was very indignant, when she found that some of her friends had spoken lightly of her parts of speech.  Mr. Snarling was wroth, when he learned that Mr. Jollikin thought him no great preacher.  Miss Brown was so, on hearing that Mr. Smith did not admire her singing; and Mr. Smith, on learning that Miss Brown did not admire his horsemanship.  Some authors feel angry, on reading an unfavorable review of their book.  The present writer has been treated very, very kindly by the critics,—­far more so than he ever deserved; yet he remembers showing a notice of him, which was intended to extinguish him for all coming time, to a warm-hearted friend, who read it with gathering wrath, and, vehemently starting up at its close, exclaimed, (we knew who wrote the notice,)—­“Now I shall go straight and kick that fellow!” Now all this is very natural; but assuredly it is quite wrong.  You understand, of course, that I am thinking of unfavorable opinions of you, honestly held, and expressed without malice.  I do not mean to say that you would choose for your special friend or companion one who thought meanly of your ability or your sense; it would not be pleasant to have him always by you; and the very fact of his presence would tend to keep you from doing justice to yourself.  For it is true, that, when with people who think you very clever and wise, you really are a good deal cleverer and wiser than usual; while with people who think you stupid and silly, you find yourself under a malign influence which tends to make you actually so for the time.  If you want a man to gain any good quality, the way is to give him credit for possessing it.  If he has but little, give him credit for all he has, at least; and you will find him daily get more.  You know how Arnold made boys truthful; it was by giving them credit for truth.  Oh that we all fitly understood that the same grand principle should be extended to all good qualities, intellectual and moral!  Diligently instil into a boy that he is a stupid, idle, bad-hearted blockhead, and you are very likely to make him all that.  And so you can see that it is not judicious to choose for a special friend and associate one who thinks poorly of one’s sense or one’s parts.  Indeed, if such a one honestly thinks poorly of you, and has any moral earnestness, you could not get him for a special friend, if you wished it.  Let us choose for our companions (if such can be found) those who think well and kindly of us, even though we may know within ourselves that they think too kindly and too well.  For that favorable estimation will