musty court, sniffing at musty parchments?
Imagine what would come of another kind of
proceeding. Suppose we said morning is the
time for enjoyment, it is evident that it is so,
nature herself seems to point it out. And then,
having given up the morning to the enjoyment
for which we had discovered that it was so
obviously intended, how should we get on when we
came back to work in the afternoon? Should we
be in cue for work then? Would work, in the
truest sense of the word, be possible even?
How would what we did, stand comparison with
the performances of those who had stuck close
at it, all through that beautiful and bright morning
which they had so magnificently given up to
labour? Well," continues the modern Chesterfield,
still counselling his son, "you have to
choose whether you will waste your youth, and
work when you are middle aged, with every
disadvantage against you, or whether you will
sacrifice your young days in order to attain a
respected manhood. The commencement of a
career is an up-hill affair, and it should be got
over when you are young and strong, sanguine
and active, so that in middle age and afterwards
you should have rather to practise what
you know, than to acquire rudimentary information.
It is a miserable thing to see an old man
poor and unsuccessful. It is terrible to see him
with his children grown up about him, shy and
ill educated, through there having been in their
case a reversal of what is almost a law of nature.
For it does seem to be a law of nature that
men should rise, and that their children should
be brought up to a position superior to that with
which the father began. Now, every youngster
with a life before him should think of his life
as a whole, and look on as far as he can to the
end of it. Let the light work and the fun come
rather late, just as the light work and the exercise
and the social enjoyment come daily in the
afternoon and evening. It is true that in one
sense we enjoy it less keenly than we should in
the morning of the day, or of our life, but we
enjoy it quite keenly enough, and all the more
for taking it with a clear conscience, and a sense
of right, and with the added zest which delay
and self-restraint are able to impart."

Look, if this worldly advice be not almost
like a sermon! And yet it is worldly, or what is
generally called so. We are talking about society
and about the world, and anything else is
purposely kept out of sight, though it may be, none
the less, an extremely doubtful point whether a
successful career in this world is, in itself, at all
an impediment to our happiness in another. And
now, when we have reasoned with this good
boy whom we are persuading, after our worldly
fashion, to embark on a prosperous career—
when we have got him to determine to be an
industrious apprentice instead of an idle one—
what more have we to say to him? We have to
tell him that, his choice made, there are still
plenty of enjoyments open to him. His life is
not to be all business, though it is necessary that
play should be sparingly indulged in, and never
made an object of pursuit. A man may take
thirty mornings a year and devote them to
enjoyment and yet prosper perfectly in his
business; and just in like manner, the morning of a
lifetime may be interspersed with occasional
amusement securely and even advantageously—
so that self-restraint is never lost, and pleasure
never made a business. We have—still be it
remembered being desperately worldly advisers—
to tell our young friend, in conclusion, that he
must be truthful and courageous, that he must
not over-eat or over-drink himself, that he must
be clean and sober in his attire, and have his
temper under control.

These things will all aid our neophyte in
getting on in the world. It is possible that there are
some other acquirements which he may pick up
when once fairly in its arena, which are not
quite so unobjectionable; but those hitherto
quoted as needful to get him a favourable
reception among men and women, are all good of
their kind. Something it is to be able to say
this of the world whose manners we are going
to study. Something also it is to be able to
affirm confidently, that to be capable of taking
three bottles of wine under your waistcoat, to
be a skilful gamester, a Don Juan, a Lovelace,
will not help a man on a bit. So far, then, the
world is to be commended, in that it encourages
diligence and self-restraint, and punishes self-
indulgence and sloth.

The only people we have seen admitted at
that gate of society where we stood just now,
whose claims one might be disposed to dispute,
were the men whose only qualification for
entrance was a great wealth of gossip, and the
millionnaire, whose riches have come to him
without labour of his own to acquire them. I
am afraid that we cannot say much for the first
of these, except that he is amusing, and that
people must have—and ought to have at the
right moment—amusement; while, as to the
last—why, there is so much to be said, that one
hardly knows where to begin.

"Effodiuntur opes irritamenta malorum,"
saith the Latin grammar. '"We can be good and
wise without riches," announceth the well-
known proverb. "The gold is but the guinea-
stamp—the man's the man for a' that," cries
the poet. Still, when all is said, we cannot shut
our eyes to the fact that riches are very
delightful, and that they endow their possessors
with many very charming qualities. Other things
being equal, rich people are probably pleasanter
to associate with than poor people. The rich
man is able to do so many more agreeable
things than the poor man. Dives, too, has a
more comfortable look about him; he can enter
into all sorts of pleasant schemes without falling
into those terrible fits of moody abstraction
which belong to the poor man. There is a
certain insolvent stare which appertains to this last
about the time when the tavern bill becomes
due which is very terrible, and spoils one's
pleasure. He can pay it, of course, or his share
of it; but other and weightier bills remain
undischarged, and as he gazes into vacancy
and chews his unprosperous whisker, these