We usually say—­That man is a genius, but he has some whims and oddities—­Such a one has a very general knowledge, but he is superficial, etc.  Now in all such cases we should speak more rationally, did we substitute “therefore” for “but”:  “He is a genius, therefore he is whimsical” and the like.

It is the fault of the present age, owing to the freer commerce that different ranks and professions now enjoy with each other, that characters are not marked with sufficient strength; the several classes run too much into one another.  We have fewer pedants, it is true, but we have fewer striking originals.  Every one is expected to have such a tincture of general knowledge as is incompatible with going deep into any science; and such a conformity to fashionable manners as checks the free workings of the ruling passion, and gives an insipid sameness to the face of society, under the idea of polish and regularity.

There is a cast of manners peculiar and becoming to each age, sex, and profession; one, therefore, should not throw out illiberal and commonplace censures against another.  Each is perfect in its kind:  a woman as a woman; a tradesman as a tradesman.  We are often hurt by the brutality and sluggish conceptions of the vulgar; not considering that some there must be to be hewers of wood and drawers of water, and that cultivated genius, or even any great refinement and delicacy in their moral feelings, would be a real misfortune to them.

Let us then study the philosophy of the human mind.  The man who is master of this science will know what to expect from every one.  From this man, wise advice; from that, cordial sympathy; from another, casual entertainment.  The passions and inclinations of others are his tools, which he can use with as much precision as he would the mechanical powers; and he can as readily make allowance for the workings of vanity, or the bias of self-interest in his friends, as for the power of friction, or the irregularities of the needle.

A DIALOGUE OF THE DEAD

BETWEEN HELEN AND MADAME MAINTENON

Helen—­Whence comes it, my dear Madame Maintenon, that beauty, which in the age I lived in produced such extraordinary effects, has now lost almost all its power?

Maintenon—­I should wish first to be convinced of the fact, before I offer to give you a reason for it.

Helen—­That will be very easy; for there is no occasion to go any further than our own histories and experience to prove what I advance.  You were beautiful, accomplished, and fortunate; endowed with every talent and every grace to bend the heart of man and mold it to your wish; and your schemes were successful; for you raised yourself from obscurity and dependence to be the wife of a great monarch.—­But what is this to the influence my beauty had over sovereigns and nations!  I occasioned a long ten-years’