PRACTICAL LIFE.

BY

G. de LAZARRE, Ph. D., LL. D.

OW trite is the saying,
that man is the only
reasoning, religious, and
political animal, which,
indeed, is very true
potentially, rather than
actually; for, since the
days of our forefathers,
more have acted without
reason, religion or polity,
than with them. Man,

however, has been so much the sport of prejudice, of custom and habit, so many opinions come to him with the hoary locks of time, or in the more captivating attire of novelty; and fashion is so lordly a prince, his mandates being practiced without any inquiry as to their reasonableness, that there are few who can endure to look upon the resplendent face of unveiled truth, and the many have, therefore, an unseemly way of considering those as impertinent pretenders and intruders upon their rights, who essay to rebuke their follies and to breathe

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into the "torpid breast of daily life" their chiding counsels. And this is especially the case if the reproof be lengthened into essays or dissertations with few of those verdant spots by which they seek to release themselves from the cheerless and arid wastes of moral instruction.

Some men fail in conversation, having neither ideas nor facts; others, by force of memory alone, treasure up facts in great abundance, but still make a sorry display of them from the want of ideas; while a third class live in regions of their own creation, spurn facts, and lose thereby the charms of illustration and the logical force of induction. When individuals of these three classes happen to grow ambitious in conversation, observant philosophy could foretell, with almost unerring certainty, how the so-called argument would be conducted, and how brought to an end.

Folly, wisdom, modesty, and abstraction are the characteristics which designate the four classes of silent men. In the first, one may perceive in his scrutinizing observations, when in society, a person almost inflexibly silent, wandering about the rooms, vacantly gazing upon the various objects of furniture, and sometimes intently staring on those engaged in animated discussions in which he could take no part, because he is under the influence of folly; not absolutely so by nature, but from the total absence of culture. In the second class, one may observe a person seated in an apparently moody silence for a while, absorbed by thoughts, then taking part in the conversation, speaking but little, but always strictly to the purpose. He shows that he has read much, digested all, and seems free enough to speak when excited by the least hope of a fair exchange of marketable ideas. This person is, consequently, prudently tactiturn, and when lounging on a sofa, is apt to have one eye half closed, while the other is intent on all around him; he mentally distilling the remarks of others, and never

failing in due time and season to apply to useful purposes the essences thus extracted. In the third, one may observe that the modest person's silence originates in his own unjust estimate of his admirable powers and acquirements; for he has seen but little of society and, therefore, imagines that the world must be wiser than he will soon find it. In the fourth, a silent, but abstracted person, may be seen in company, but when aroused none can shed more true light upon the subject. He then becomes eloquent, animated and highly instructive. Had society in general the good sense to hunt up, in every circle, these four classes of silent men, and view them as they are, how much of the human mind might be developed; how many valuable elements might be rescued from comparative obscurity and inaction.

All Christians, no doubt, have observed that Jesus' holy name sometimes embraces two systems of human conduct, very distinct in their origin and end; the one having heaven for its author and its hope; the other-born of earth — worldly policy and aggrandizement for its single object. The Jesuits, with all their piety, their learning and refinement, thought earth worth winning as well as heaven, and contrived a scheme of such matchless detail and complexity, as had well nigh proselyted all governments and all people to their political sway! Happily the year 1876 limited the speed of this powerful machine of proselytism. How often does heathen philosophy put us Christians to the blush; and the errors of our religious, moral and intellectual education make us trespass on rules held sacred by the pagan world!

There are men who can never say "no," who yet are as far from doing as if they had used, with emphasis, that significant particle. They will promise anything, be it by word or writing; perhaps faithfully meant at the time, and always with an apparent intention of performance, and yet without the slightest