sees through a clear and colorless medium, whose transparency shows the
world as it is."

Disposition has also its concave and convex lenses, which magnify some
things and minify others. The self-satisfied man sees every one's
faults in giant proportions; and every one's virtues, but his own,
dwarfed into insignificance. To the fretful man others seem fretful; to
the envious man, envious; and so with the well-disposed, gentle, and
generous; sunshine prevails over shadows. The world is different to
different observers, largely because they have different media through
which they look at it.

Cheerful tempers manufacture solace and joy out of very unpromising
material. They are the magic alchemists who extract sweet essences out
of bitter herbs, like the old colored woman in the smoky hut, who was
"glad of anything to make a smoke with," and, though she had but two
teeth, thanked God they were "_opposite each other!_"

Goodness outranks even uprightness, because the good man aims to do
good to others. Uprightness is the beauty of integrity; goodness is the
loveliness of benevolence. The good man visits the hut of misery, the
hovel of poverty, leaving in a gentle and delicate way, a few comforts
for the table or wardrobe, dainties for the fevered palate of the sick,
or such other helps as the case may call for, as far as his means and
circumstances will allow.

A true education should cover all these points, and many others also;
but it must never be allowed to destroy the pupil's individuality. It
must teach that a person can be himself, and study all the models he
pleases. Webster studied the orations of Cicero so thoroughly that he