show themselves indulgent; and who, by a well understood indulgence, open the way of repentance. Thanks be rendered to religious doctrines, which hold open constantly to the repentant the doors of the sanctuary of virtue, which restore in the eyes of the supreme judge those who have been wounded by the capricious opinion of men!

The experience of our faults is a luminous introduction to the knowledge of mankind, and also to the science which has for its object the conduct of life. It is the education of benevolence; it makes us cherish more ardently the communion of the good; it makes us better support communion with the imperfect: the sentiment of our imperfections brings us more near to them, disposes us to the affections we ought to bear to them, inspires us with condescension, and obtains for us, in return, a confidence more entire, on their part. When, pursued with regret for a fault committed, we have the happiness of meeting with a being touched by adversity, and the power of assisting him, it seems as if our conscience were solaced, that we have found the means of reconciling ourselves again with duty. The consolations which we can thus open to others, soothe our inward pains; the tears of gratitude that fall upon us, heal our sick hearts of their wounds: acts of charity are a beautiful and sweet expiation.

Of all the exercises of generosity, the most noble, the most extended, the most difficult, is that which carries to men useful assistance in moral maladies. But what physician will give useful directions, if not he who has himself experienced the evils he seeks to cure? From the remembrance of our faults we draw the most efficacious counsels, and find the secret of that language which may make them understood by others.

TENDENCY TO EXCELLENCE.

ALTHOUGH it may not be granted to man to attain perfection, it is his destiny to direct himself towards it, and to approach it without ceasing. It is by this characteristic trait that we recognize the noble and elevated. Their eyes are ever directed upward; their march is constantly progressive; Thus they prethey have before them an indefinite career. serve an immortal youth, and their life is animated by a powerful interest, and embellished by a high hope.

It is the characteristic of mediocrity in morals, as well as in the arts, to be satisfied with itself, and to see nothing beyond its own narrow limits. Importuned by the presence of what is superior, and alarmed by counsels which excite to progress, vulgar souls seek security in inaction, felicity in torpor; having a thousand pretexts for forbiding themselves all progress that would be accompanied with an effort. Sometimes they even affect a sort of disdain for what is distinguished, in order to console their vanity, while yielding to their effeminacy. They have genius only to conceive impossibilities, eloquence only to celebrate obstacles, and they profess a sort of worship for limitations. The stationary condition, in the eyes of certain people, is the ideal of prudence and wisdom. They confound immobility with perseverance; condemn all progress as temerity; all hope as an illusion. Thus they establish, shut up, and imprison themselves, in an existence in some sort entirely mechanical, in which the only reason for acting, is to continue what they have begun to do, in which they confirm and encourage themselves in their errors, faults, and weaknesses, as if an irrevocable sentence had condemned them never to be free. Thus every thing is cooled, coagulated, paralyzed: man passes as it were into the fossil state; the very good he does, loses its charm; habits take the place of sentiments; routine dispenses with resolutions.

When thus carried on without acting, we turn constantly in the same circle; we feel no need of motives. But though we think to remain stationary in morals, there is no moral condition really so; and he who does not advance, goes back; for every day brings with it losses, which demand to be compensated by acquisitions; and we can only be supported by a spirit of life, which tends to constant regeneration. Indifference is certain failure. Thus the learned man when he learns no more, already forgets. While we continue to act externally in the same manner, we no longer continue to carry the same sentiment into our actions; with similar conduct we no longer have the same merit. Let us examine this treaty, which is formed with moral mediocrity, and ask ourselves what we do? what we mean? what we expect? what idea we have conceived of our destiny? whether we have a destiny? whether we feel, within, a voice which invites us to self-esteem, which calls upon us to grow and become more elevated?

We think ourselves estimable. We are regular, per

haps, but we are not truly virtuous, for we imprudently think to enjoy security. If new circumstances transpire, what guide will direct us? If unforseen difficulties spring up in our path, how shall we know how to conquer them? May God preserve us from the great vicissitudes of fate, from strong temptations and perilous situations!

The love of excellence cannot be subjected thus to a rigorous and fixed measurement: it is in its nature active, expansive, thirsting for conquests. To declare that we have prescribed limits, which we will not surpass, is to confess that we do not feel for excellence true love: it is contradicting ourselves. To declare that we will stop at a given point in the career, is to confess that we have not known the true motives, which should already lead even to that point; if they had been understood and felt, we should be impelled to pass beyond it.

Far from being frightened from the tendency to the best, as from an excessive fatigue, we should soon acknowledge, from our own experience, that the practice of duty becomes on the contrary always more easy and pleasent, in proportion as we advance towards excellence. Do we wish for an example; that inward peace which is the fruit of virtuous habits and the sweet privilege of innocence of heart, becomes in its turn most favorable to knowing, feeling, and practising all which is excellent.

It is to the cowardly and lukewarm that duty becomes a yoke. Such is the close relation which exists among all the virtues, that each of them, in proportion as it is acquired, invites and calls upon its companions and lends them its support. This progressive march also preserves in the heart of man an inexpressible joy and hilarity, which redoubles his strength, disposes him for new undertakings, and aids him in their accomplishment. It is in the monotony of an existence without an aim, that we find lassitude. The activity of an existence consecrated to the search after excellence, finds in itself its encouragement and reward. The higher man rises into moral regions, the more he sees his horizon extend: from the summits which rise before him, come at once strength and light.

For advancement in excellence, there is a way traced out by prudence, an important and difficult art, which comports little with general and absolute rules, because it is modified for every one by his own individual disposition.

We will begin with what is most easy: nothing is more prudent and natural; but we will not put off too long attempting also what is difficult; for we gain strength only by struggling against difficulties. Let us beware of flying them; let us only take care to graduate them.

We will begin by satisfying precise and rigorous obligations, before proceeding to works of pure supererogation; but let us not forbid ourselves to listen also to the generous inspirations, which sometimes invite us to pass beyond the strict line of duty! Often, in accomplishing a noble action, we obtain new strength to obey positive precepts: love disposes to respect, beneficence is an aid to justice.

We will begin by exercising ourselves in the virtues, which are of most immediate and frequent application. These are the most necessary; they are also those which make themselves best understood and felt, and which bring with them most powerful encouragements, because we best see the result and taste the reward. It is easy to romance upon virtues, which we shall have no occasion to apply, and to draw from thence a pretext for neglecting those, the daily practice of which is demanded of us: this manner of making ourselves virtuous, hypothetically, flatters at once our idleness and our vanity; but it deceives the wish for improvement, it enervates its principle. Let us then apply ourselves to the duties which belong most peculiarly to our calling, to our situation in life; duties most familiar and least brilliant, but more favorable to our improvement, precisely because they have less attraction for self-love. This shows a new and admirable value of those family duties, with which Providence has strewed the whole course of our lives, as if to give a value to each of our moments; as if to consecrate our most habitual and intimate relations; as if to change home into a sanctuary of virtue!

There are virtues which may be called mother-virtues, because they are as it were the main branch of a great number of others; such are, for example, gratitude and justice. Let these, then, be the first objects of our ambition and efforts; we shall draw from them, beforehand, understanding, and taste for those which are subordinate to them: we shall better penetrate into the principles and motives which should lead us to excellence: we shall better feel by what secret ties our duties are connected together: we shall judge better the rank they observe in regard to each other.

LABOR.

WHEN We consider that labor is the condition to which most men are subjected, we are powerfully drawn to meditate upon a subject so much connected with our earthly destiny. At first sight, the philosophic friend of humanity is saddened at the view of so much fatigue; especially when considering the kinds of labor that form the general task, so monotonous, apparently so barren for the mind and heart; and he asks with surprise, if this being, bent to the earth, exercising himself in a work-shop, almost assimilated to mechanical instruments, is truly the immortal being, of whose noble origin and august vocation he has conceived; he demands how such a state of things can be reconciled with the dignity of our nature; how moral progress can be possible in those who seem condemned to a life wholly animal; and he asks if, in the high ideas he has formed of the designs of Providence concerning man, he has not been led away by beautiful but chimerical illusions.

No; he has not presumed too much upon the destination and dignity of man, or the hopes of improvement which are offered to him. Labor, if we see all the extent of its effects, far from destroying, confirms these views of wisdom.

Thus

Man here below is on all sides in contact, it is true, with material nature, depending upon it by means of his first wants, subjected to it by means of the impressions of his senses. But, by labor, material nature is subdued, conquered, transformed; the invisible powers of air and water are seized and governed, and rendered fruitful; and man raises upon earth the immense monument which the arts of civilization have constructed for the use of human society. the obscure labor of a simple individual takes, in our estimation, a new character. But it may have still more extended effects. From this competence, this general prosperity, which the process of labor brings about, springs knowledge, and all the moral influences developed by the social relations. The labor of a great number procures, for some, leisure for meditation; and the fruits of these meditations serve as moral aliment to the many, conducing to their improvement and happiness. Thus each one, by his labor, beside producing what is necessary for his physical existence, concurs also, indirectly, in providing the useful knowledge, in which, in many ways, he participates.