But self-satisfaction, if as buoyant as gas, has an ugly trick of collapsing when full-blown, and facts are stony things that refuse to melt away in the sunshine of a smile. Mr. Arnold, like Mr. Emerson, preached the gospel of compensation with much picturesqueness and beauty; but his arguments would be more convincing if our own observation and experience did not so mulishly stand in their way. A recent writer in Cornhill, who ought to be editing a magazine for Arcady, asserts with charming simplicity that man "finds a positive satisfaction in putting himself on a level with others, and in recognizing that he has his just share of life's enjoyments." But suppose that he cannot reach the level of others, or be persuaded that his share is just? The good things of life are not impartially divided, like the spaces on a draught-board, and man, who is a covetous animal, will never be content with a little, while his comrade enjoys a great deal. Neither does he find the solace that is expected in the contemplation of the unfortunate who has nothing; for this view of the matter, besides being a singular plea for the compensation theory, appeals too
