not wish to speak harshly of what is best in us,--to turn himself into a "devil's attorney." But he points out the room there is for doubt;--the power of moods;--the power of complexion, and so forth. Shall we, then, because good-nature inclines us to virtue's side, smoothly cry: "There are no doubts!"--and lie for the right? We ask whether life is to be led in a brave or a cowardly way: whether the satisfaction of our doubts be not essential to all manliness: whether the name of virtue is to be a barrier to that which is virtue? The sceptic wants truth, wants to have things made plain to him, and has a right to be convinced in his own way. In such scepticism there is no malignity; it is honest, and does not hinder his being convinced; and this hard-headed man, once convinced will prove a giant in defence of his faith. The true and final answer in which all scepticism is lost is the moral sentiment: that never forfeits the supremacy. It is the drop that balances the universe.' Science and logic have so far advanced as to abridge the field of doubtful questions. When syllogism answered syllogism, uncertainty reigned absolute--but now that the appeal is to facts, we can, wherever facts can be had, weigh or number them, and decide on one side or the other. When Ali Pacha was at Janina, the case of a poor woman, who accused a man of the theft of all her property, was brought before him; but the plaintiff having no witnesses, the case was discharged, as the other asserted his innocence, and insisted as a proof, that he had not a farthing in the world. On their leaving his presence, Ali ordered both to be weighed, and then released them without further notice. A fortnight afterwards, he commanded both into his presence, and again weighed them; the accuser had lost as much as the defendant had gained in weight. The thing spoke for itself, and Ali decided that the accusation was just. Ali Pacha was the Burlamiqui of justice. Induction, too, has its scales, and seldom leaves us in doubt when it gets truth and falsehood in them. Scepticism is now happily restricted to those questions resting on conjectures, and which do not pertain to the practical affairs of this life. On matter-of-fact questions, only the weak are perplexed. After men have been in deliberation till the time of action approach, if it be not then manifest what is best to be done, it is a sign the difference of motives the one way and the other is not great; therefore, not to resolve then is to lose the occasion by weighing of trifles, which is pusillanimity. Quaint old Bunyan tells us, that when he had completed his 'Pilgrim's Progress' he took the opinions of various friends on the propriety of publishing it. Some said 'John, do;' others 'John, don't.' But solid old John was not to be thus confounded. 'Then I will print it,' said he, 'and thus the case decide.' To this good sense the public owe that immortal dream.