dozens from the simple lips of Sancho. So also the polished Chesterfield is known to have warned his son against this species of vulgarity, as well as against all unfashionable vice. But notwithstanding these high authorities, there is a great deal of pith in some old sayings; for, in fewest words, they convey the lessons of sound experience.

Of adages of this sort, few have a more extensive, or a more useful meaning, than the one which here follows:"Cut your coat to your cloth.”

The literal sense, nobody can mistake, and nobody's general practice is wide from it. But its metaphorical sense is daily contravened in the practice of no inconsiderable part of the sons and daughters of the giddy race of Adam, and more especially in the present age, and in this so highly favored country. Nor is any single frailty among us, of more mischievous consequence, than the perverse effort to enlarge the coat beyond what the cloth will allow. Thousands are the hapless victims of this prevailing folly. Thousands at this very moment, are pining in poverty and straits, who might have been at their ease, had they always cut the coat according to the measure of their cloth. And though what is past admits of no remedy, yet it may be made to have a salutary bearing upon things to come; since hardly any thing has a more direct tendency to make us prudent, than the imprudences of which we feel the smart.

Be it so! And then, many of those who are now grieving that their all of earthly substance is lost, will yet, by God's blessing, restore themselves to a competence, and smile in the sunshine of contentment.

It has been remarked by a writer of other times, that " he who is ignorant of the art of arithmetic is but half a man." Meaning, that one who goes on with his affairs at random, or without calculation, must needs conduct them ill, whatever be his natural talents or capacity.

We are told of a noble Venetian, who ordered his steward to deal out to his extravagant son no more money than what he should count when he received it; and that the prodigal youngster, having been used to nothing but the pursuit of his pleasures, was led, by the labor of counting his money, to reflect upon the labor it cost

his father to get it, and thence was induced to retrench his expenses, and alter his manner of life.

In like manner, only a little attention to arithmetic, as respects apportioning the size of the coat to the measure of the cloth, might save from ruin many a goodly young man, and many an estimable family, of the present generation.

"It is seldom seen," observes the great Locke, "that he who keeps an account of his income and expenses, and thereby has constantly under view the course of his domestic affairs, lets them run to ruin; and it is not to be doubted but many a man gets behind hand before he is aware, for want of this care or the skill to do it.”

The arithmetic that is here recommended is by no means complex or puzzling, but is plain and level to every common understanding. Therein the only question to be asked and solved is, Can I afford it? No matter that the thing is cheap. No matter that this is comfortable, and that is fashionable; no matter that such a style of living is most respectable in the eye of the world. Before you purchase the one, or go into the other, ask yourself the simple question, whether you can afford it, and let the true answer be the regulator of your expenses; else your circumstances will soon be ruined past all hope.

With all those, in short, whose utmost means of living are small, resolute abstinence from all extraordinary expense, rigid frugality, and even parsimony, along with well-directed industry, so far from marks of meanness, are noble virtues.

There are yet some other respects in which the sage advice, to cut the coat to the cloth, is to be carefully heeded: of these I will now mention only one, namely, the effort, more especially in early life, to build up the fabric of reputation too high and magnificent for its basis.

This is an error of no uncommon occurrence. The youth of ardent feeling is in haste to acquire fame, and neglects no opportunities of self-display. His own indiscretion in this respect, is seconded by that of his friends, who, by means of extravagant encomiums on his genius, puff him into notice. Thus is he made to enter upon the theatre of life, with a reputation impossible for him to sustain. He is like a trader, who at

tracts, and disappoints, by exhibiting to view the whole of his goods in the shop-window. His stores are all seen at once. They dazzle at first view, and expectation stands a tiptoe. To unfounded expectation disappointment succeeds of course, and he sinks as far below his true level perhaps, as these adventitious circumstances had raised him above it. Better, far better had it been for him, if his coat had been cut to his cloth.

One should beware of taking upon credit a greater amount, not only of money, but of reputation, than one will be able to make good. In the last respect as well as the other, it is a dangerous experiment for a young man to pass himself for more than he is worth.

On the contrary, there is no less truth than beauty in the following lines of the poet:

"I have learn'd to fear

The blossom that is early, and its leaves
Too soon exposed to the chilling spring:
But much I hope from the more modest bud,
That hides its head, and gathers secret strength,
Scarce blown at midsummer."

By no means would I be understood to discourage, in young minds, strenuous exertions to deserve honorable distinction. Youth who are emulous to arrive at the first attainments, can hardly fail to rise above mediocrity; for whoso aims at a high mark, whether he quite reaches it or not, is likely to reach higher than another of equal abilities who levels his aim with a mark that is low.

CHAP. LXXXVI.

Of turning good to ill, by tampering with it.

A GREAT part of the ill that we suffer might be avoid ed, if we would only learn to let well alone. But such is the plague of our hearts, relative to temporal as well as higher matters, that we are seldom, or never, quite contented with our lot, when even it is no unpleasant one, but mar and spoil what we perversely endeavor to mend.

For if we dally with any good which providence gives us, we run the risk of either impairing or losing it: while a cat is pawing about her mouse, it slips away, and she mews for it in vain.

How often is comeliness of features disfigured by affectation, which would make better, what God hath made well.

How often do we lose our health by tampering with it, in order to make it more healthy. When we are well we cannot be easy, and let well alone, but must needs be meddling with our corporeal mechanism while it is going exactly right. An Italian nobleman, whose fatal folly it was not to let well alone, ordered, as a solemn warning to others, the following line to be engraven on his tomb, "I was well-I wanted to be better—and here I am!" In innumerable instances the grave has been peopled immaturely, by means of nostrums, which the well have used to preserve and prolong their health.

Mark the children that are fed with dainties, enticed to eat before they are hungry, and kept from the air like chickens in an oven-mark their sallow and sickly faces, the feebleness of their whole frames. They were well born, and well they might have continued, but for the tampering of false tenderness.

Almost innumerable are the instances of families, who are mourning over the ruin of their worldly circumstances-not by any direct providential stroke of adversity, nor by means of conduct, of their own, that was morally bad, but solely because they did not let well alone.

One "sells the pasture to buy the horse." He barters away his fast estate for goods. A single turn of the wheel of fortune, turns him to a bankrupt.

Another, not content with being a farmer merely, is eager for the distinction of a barren office. Luckily for his feelings, but unfortunately for his circumstances, he obtains it. He neglects his farm, and his farm neglects him. His expenses increase, and his income diminishes: it is needless to tell the rest.

A third possessing a sufficiency, and but a bare sufficiency, for a plain and frugal living, is fashionable and splendid; for he must needs let the world know that he is Somebody. So he goeth; and "his poverty cometh

as an armed man."

Not uncommon at the present time is that fatal defect in character, which the venerable patriarch imputes to his first born-“Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel.” Of very many it may be said, that their greatest error, and the source of most of their misfortunes, is a fickleness of temper; they are ingenious, active, industrious, and yet poor; because they pursue no single object long enough to reap benefit from it. No sooner do they 'begin to do well in any particular business, than they forsake it for another.

Perhaps there is no one quality that more thoroughly runs through the warp of our fallen nature, than the disposition to be restless. There is a Something more, or a Something different, which we are ever prone to covet and, unless our minds are well disciplined, we shall poison the cup of life by our absurd attempts at sweetening it, or lose the good within our reach while grasping at that which is beyond it.

The following form of devotion used by one of the ancients, is suitable to blind mortals of Adam's race, who know not, nor can know precisely, either the quantities or the qualities of worldly enjoyment most conducive to their own good. "Give me whatsoever may be good for me, though I should neglect to pray for it; and deny me whatsoever would be hurtful, though I should ignorantly make it the object of my supplications." The ways of divine providence are mysterious, but unerring; its kindness is manifested frequently in withholding as well as in giving; as well in restraints as indulgences; as well in disappointments as in crowning our wishes with success. How oft, in our journey of life, has providence thwarted our inclinations, and by this means prevented our wanderings? How often have we been walking blindly upon the edge of a precipice, prepared to take the fatal leap, when an invisible power diverted our course by disappointing us of our purpose? How oft have incidents that seemed evil to us at first, been productive of good; and how oft might the things which our hearts desired, and of which providence disappointed us, have been hurtful in the enjoyment? As little children cry for what would injure them, and struggle with the hand that restrains them from running into dangers;