nature, which alienate us from it, and the remedies by which they may be counteracted. Horace and Boileau allude to such converse as one of the most beautiful among the features which they include in their pictures of a happy life. How comes it, then, that one falls so easily from these lofty speculations, and so soon finds one's self on a level with the common run of mankind? I am much deceived if the reason I am about to allege for it does not fully explain this contradiction between our ideals and our actions. It is this: all the precepts of morality being no more than vague and general principles, there is great difficulty in applying them specifically to the details of life and duty.
Let us illustrate the matter by an example. All generous natures feel that benevolence and humanity are estimable virtues, and are eager to display them. At the very moment for putting them into practice, however, they often pause and hesitate, debating whether this be indeed a proper occasion for their exercise, not being quite sure as to how far they should be carried, and doubting whether the object may not be a mistaken one. A hundred difficulties obtrude themselves, such as the fear of being duped when desirous of being charitable and generous; of betraying weakness by appearing too tender-hearted and impressible; in a word, of exceeding or of falling short of the duties which are too vaguely comprised in the terms "humanity" and "benevolence." In such uncertainty, only previous experience or example can be relied upon to guide the impulse of the heart to a wise decision. Now, this needful experience is an advantage which, cannot be freely acquired by every one. It is dependent upon the surroundings amid which our lot may have been cast, and these differ in the case of every one of us.
A vast number of persons, therefore, are left with
