"O how wretched," exclaimed the Poet of Nature, "is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors." Miserable is the condition of every being who hangs on the favors of creatures like himself. Deserve, and strive by desert, to win the esteem of your fellow-men. Thus acquired, it decorates him who obtains and blesses those who bestow it. To them it is returned in faithful service, and to him in aid of the approbation of conscience to animate diligence and reward exertion. Those too, who engage in public service, are bound to cherish a hearty sympathy with the wants, feelings, comforts, and wishes of the people--whose welfare is committed to their charge. It is essential for the preservation of that confidence which ought to subsist between the principal and the agent, the constituent and the representative, that all haughtiness and reserve should be banished from their intercourse. It sometimes happens that he who has lived too constantly among books manifests a disgust in an association with the uneducated and unrefined, which mortifies and repels them. This is absurd in him, and unjust to them. It is absurd, for he ought to know, and know well, those for whom, and upon whom, he expects to act--they constitute in fact, one of the first and most appropriate objects of his study; and it is unjust, for not unfrequently under this roughness which shocks the man of books is to be found a stock of practical information, in which he is miserably deficient. Banish, then, all superciliousness, for it is criminal and ridiculous. Honestly seek to serve your country, for it is glorious to advance the good of your fellow-men, and thus, as far as feeble mortals may, act up to the great example of Him in whose image and likeness you are made. Seek also, by all honest arts, to win their confidence, but beware how you prefer their favor to their service. The high road of service is indeed laborious, exposed to the rain and sun, the heat and dust; while the by-path of favor has, apparently, at first, much the same direction, and is bordered with flowers and sheltered by trees, "cooled with fountains and murmuring with waterfalls." No wonder, then, that like the son of Abensina, in Johnston's beautiful apologue the young adventurer is tempted to try the happy experiment of "uniting pleasure with business, and gaining the rewards of diligence without suffering its fatigues." But once entered upon, the path of favor, though found to decline more and more from its first direction, is pursued through all its deviations, till at length even the thought of return to the road of service is utterly abandoned. To court the fondness of the people is found or supposed to be easier than to merit their approbation. Meanly ambitious of public trust, without the virtues to deserve it; intent on personal distinction, and having forgotten the ends for which alone it is worth possessing, the miserable being, concentered all in self, learns to pander to