The great error of emulation is this: we emulate effects without
inquiring into causes. When we read of the great actions of a man,
we are on fire to perform the same exploits, without endeavouring to
ascertain the precise qualities which enabled the man we imitate to
commit the actions we admire. Could we discover these, how often might
we discover that their origin was a certain temper of body, a certain
peculiarity of constitution, and that, wish we for the same success, we
should be examining the nature of our bodies rather than sharpening the
faculties of our minds,--should use dumbbells, perhaps, instead of books;
nay, on the other hand, contract some grievous complaint rather than
perfect our moral salubrity. Who should say whether Alexander would have
been a hero had his neck been straight; or Boileau a satirist, had he
never been pecked by a turkey? It would be pleasant to see you, my
beloved pupils, after reading "Quintus Curtius," twisting each other's
throat; or, fresh from Boileau, hurrying to the poultry-yard in the hope
of being mutilated into the performance of a second "Lutrin."




CAUTION AGAINST THE SCOFFERS OF "HUMBUG."

My beloved pupils, there is a set of persons in the world, daily
increasing, against whom you must be greatly on your guard; there is a
fascination about them. They are people who declare themselves
vehemently opposed to humbug,--fine, liberal fellows, clear-sighted, yet
frank. When these sentiments arise from reflection, well and good,--they
are the best sentiments in the world; but many take them up second hand.
They are very inviting to the indolence of the mob of gentlemen who see
the romance of a noble principle, not its utility. When a man looks at