as we do, to the literati only as amateurs, we volunteer our good wishes, and shall farther illustrate our generosity in giving a suggestion or two by way of a starting point.

For example; the capacity of a candidate for any station, now a question of so much intricacy, rendered difficult by the unclassed and undetermined values of the several attributes of character, and by the undetermined value of each individual attribute, might be measured by the proposed system and ascertained demonstratively. The man best qualified for any station on the whole, as the phrase goes, might be identified to a dead certainty, and the aggregate of men's merits made out as regularly as bills of parcels. At present we find many a man current at more than his worth, and many appraised at less; and for the very good reason that we have no uniform standard or test by which to try them. Among the tests which we have obtained many are futile; some forcible, but all inadequate. Never was an old maxim truer than "a man's manners commonly make his fortune;" but we should shrink from the admission that they commonly determine his worth. Some men, in truth, with Chinese wares, are valued only on their lackered surface; and every man's manners affect his worth. But how much? here lies the difficulty. The rules, we should rather say the whims, by which mankind are actuated in the examination of mind or matter are very various, and seldom founded in reason or in truth. There are some laws to which all nature owes allegiance; and there are some laws which have application to all mankind. Again there are laws which are local; and there are laws which from the nature of the case are capable only of individual application. It is not an easy matter to take a comprehensive view of any question, and therefore not strange that comprehensive views are seldom taken. We may see the force of all these aphorisms any time by taking our observation, and calculating the latitude and longitude in the social world of any of our acquaintance.

We have been casting about in our mind, gentle reader, for the whereabout to take up the subject of our present paper, and such are the thoughts which have straightway commended themselves to our attention. Should they seem to you impertinent and rouse your impatience at our loitering, we cry your mercy and beg you will consider the danger of interrupting a story; and perhaps in the sequel their relation may appear.

We are told that modesty is (1.) that lowly temper which accompanies a moderate estimate of one's own worth and importance; and (2.) as an act or series of acts; humble, unobtrusive deportment. A lowly temper strikes us at once as indispensable to modesty. But it is manifest that the external indications of modesty, which are valuable only as they are indicative of modesty of heart and sentiment, will vary as the qualities upon which it

is engrafted. The artist's colors produce not more wonderful variety in combination than do the various mental qualities which make and characterize the individual. The hue of modesty like that of a delicate paint is affected by the ground upon which it is laid. The resources of the Creator for the production of mind or matter are boundless. The diversity of mind is certainly not less than the diversity of the human countenance; and it would be indeed wonderful if amid the immense variety and diversity of ingredients and combinations upon which this virtue is engrafted, the developments should be uniformly the same. It will be seen, then, that the amount of a man's real or relative modesty cannot be hastily determined. Some mental qualities are so far independent as to admit of a separate consideration, and the presence or absence of such may of course be determined with a good degree of certainty; thus judgment, imagination. But he who would stretch his neighbor upon the rule of his own illgrounded fancies, and thereupon decide his character, is a worthy follower of Procrustes. The more common and obvious form of modesty is seen in the man who in all companies quietly occupies the back ground, rather listening than speaking, deferring to the judgment of all, and apparently more anxious to acquire than to communicate. Eloquent listeners' are so extremely rare, it would ill become a scribbler, even if he were disposed, to lift up a voice against these. We are far enough from wishing so to do, and would rejoice most heartily in the knowledge that all who wear this garb were merely modest men. But under their flag are to be found a mixed multitude who have no part or lot in this matter. These, not being entitled to any particular civilities at our hands, we shall range with little ceremony under three heads— dolts, the pliable, and knaves. The first have no opinions; the second have no fixed opinions; the last have no honest opinions; and we protest against their assuming the garment of modesty. With the first and the last we shall not trouble our reader farther; but as the second class rejoice in the democracy of numbers we must give them a passing notice. Dogmatism is always immodest, and being withal exceedingly obtrusive, we are impelled by our impatience almost to approve the opposite extreme; but when we consider the elements essential to a finished manly character, we can no more tolerate 'a constitution of soft, yielding, treacherous debility;' and while we should not perhaps conceive it immodest, a moment's reflection will place it at as wide remove from manly modesty as the vilest trait of character. We presume the most enthusiastic eulogist of manly modesty would choose, if we could secure this attribute, which, truth to say, is somewhat ethereal, to produce something quite compatible with a perfect manly character. We shall agree with him that obstinacy is always immodest, because therein man is always influenced,

not by reason, but by will. We shall also hold him to the admission, with Mr. Foster, that 'the first prominent mental characteristic of a decided character is a complete (just) confidence in his own judgment.' And true manly modesty can no more exist without this, that can a perfect character.

Budgell defines modesty to be the reflection of an ingenuous mind, either when a man has committed an action for which he censures himself, or fancies that he is exposed to the censure of others; and justly adds, that the man thus modest is as like to blush alone as when in company. A great deal of real diffidence is by a sad misnomer called modesty. Distrust of ourselves, and want of confidence in the powers which we actually possess, may arise from slight acquaintance with the world, and deficiency in practice, and so be no fault on our part; but diffidence is certainly no requisite to a perfect manly character. In arriving at the highest style of modesty we insist that our way shall lie among the highest style of man, and him by the way, with Young, we affirm to be a christian. As in the examination of any matter, we seek the most refined and perfect specimen, so in our present pursuit we would fain explore this simple as it exists in the most perfect compound. We would find it then in the man who is both modest and assured. And why should it be thought there is ought in assurance which militates against modesty? Unless perchance gentle reader thou art a Dutchman and a lineal descendant of the renowned Wouter Van Twiller, whose unutterable ponderings were recorded for our benefit by the late* lamented Mr. Diedrich Knickerbocker; in which case we can only say we shall hold no argument with thee. But that confidence which arises from 'a moderate knowledge of the world, and above all from a mind fixed and determined in itself to do nothing against the rules of honor and decency is essential to a finished character; and in conjunction with it must be found the modesty which alone can grace such a character. The man who is resolute from will, and not from reason, is obstinate, and as likely to be found the obstinate champion of error as of truth. The pliable being resolute in nothing is of course sometimes the advocate of truth, sometimes of error. The diffident is scarcely less upon a sea of uncertainty, and therefore incapable of exhibiting true modesty. The man of assurance and decision gives his sentiments with precision, unhesitating, but with candor, and is ever ready to yield with modest

* The reader is informed, that when a man passes thirty, having "had no wife or children, good or bad to provide for," he is deemed essentially defunct, and straightway consigned to oblivion, or allowed to figure at a trencher with Franklin's odd half of a pair of scissors, without even an epitaph; but to the above worthy, in consideration of his having written some especial good works, is accorded the epithet 'lamented.'

deference to superior evidence. With Bacon, his maxim is, 'any where and every where with evidence, but no where without it.'

To revert now to our positions in the outset, we have to say, in deciding upon the character of a man who is no dolt, neither pliable, nor a knave, who is not obstinate nor diffident, but whose character is in other respects symmetrical, it is wise to eschew a hasty decision that he is immodest, until thou hast convinced him of an error, and witnessed his reception of that unpalatable conviction. With this, gentle reader, we bid thee farewell.

DISCIPULUS.

"VITA QUID NISI MORTIS IMAGO."-Cato.

'Twas in a princely hall ;

And lights, and gems, and flowers were blending there;
And beauty's winning smile, and beaming eyes,

Whose brilliancy outshone the crystal fires

Which sparkled 'mid the dazzling scene :-and there

Was blooming youth in all its loveliness;

The cheek where mantled the rich tide of life,
Rushing in joyous currents from the heart;

And manhood's prime,-and the thin snowy locks
Of trembling age.

It was a bridal night;—
The solemn vow in heaven was registered:

Ties which no earthly power, nor time, nor space
Can sever, had bound them heart to heart.
In happiness they stood, of all around
Unmindful, save when he, their aged sire,

With outstretched arms, invoked Heaven's benison
To 'bide with the lov'd one.

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Months had rolled by,

And in a still and darkened chamber, where
The breathless silence smote upon the soul,

The aged father with a bursting heart

Gazed on his child. And he was there, that eye

Of eagle brightness; dim with tears, that form
Of manly beauty bow'd in agony

Over the lowly couch.

The golden sun

Was sinking in the west, and his last beams
Streamed through the crimson curtain's heavy folds
And fell upon her face. They lingered there ;-
A smile, a sweet, sad smile, which whispered forth

VOL. III.

16

"Weep not for me," and with the last bright ray
Her spirit fled.

For

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The hurrying tide of time,

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years had poured its foaming cataract
Into th' unfathomable deep-eternity!
'Twas on a summer eve, the air was filled
With balmy zephyrs from the southern skies,
Which lightly kissed from off the trembling leaf
The half-formed dew-drop.

Slowly they wound along
Amid the grassy mounds,—that mournful train ;—
The pall, the darkly nodding plumes, and all
The sad habiliments of woe they bore,
And tears fell fast, and stifled sobs broke out
Upon the calm, still night.

The open tomb

Welcomed the weary wand'rer;-on the wave,
The mountain, desert, plain, 'mid nature's works
Of solemn grandeur, in her loveliest scenes,
His heart still pictured that green mound, where dwelt
His all of earth.-It was his home-thither
He came, and slept in peace.

T.

ANTIQUARIAN RESEARCHES.

No. V.

(Being principally descriptions of Ancient Medals, &c., translated from the Latin.)

AMULETUM BASILIDIANUM.-
.—(Incis. in Onyce.)

"Perhaps the Egyptian god Apis, the symbol of generation, is here represented, since he is often made in the image of a bunchbacked bull. In the medal there are seven stars over the back of the bull, which perhaps designate his ministering angels; for the ancients supposed that the gods presided over the stars. In the Florentine Museum, there is a representation of a bull with the sun and moon above his head, and also another, not unlike this, where, in addition to the seven stars over the back of the animal, the face of the sun, or of some other divinity, appears between his horns. According to the fable, the prince of the Brachmanes (philosophers of India) gave to Apollonius Tyanous, seven rings with the names of seven stars, of which he wore one daily. Between the horns of the bull are the three graces-god