FOR THE ADVOCATE.

GUor < r-oEa---No. r.
{"character_count": 2873, "word_count": 534, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9743000268936157], "ccnet_perplexity": [963.2999877929688], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
-

 " What dost thou mean? Is 1t world to hide virtues in?''

 Now that hold to be good logic. What man ever found that the world long gave him credit for being any better than he wasl To be sure, that same world may, for a while, magnify his great deeds, and laud him for more than he is worth; but as cer- tainly will 1t chance, that the same worlds distorted vision, will magnify his evil deeds, and look at his virtues through concave lens. Let me see your modest man. - Every body jostles him, and elbows him from the pavement. He gets neither office nor dignity. He is never leader. Oh no-'he is a good enough, diflident fellow. So goes the world. But your bold man. He may have less brains than nail pairing but he rises in the world. He may have a little heart, but he talks big, and the world takes his word al par. Like Ancient Pis- tol, he he speaks brave worlds I have seen and marked your brave men--your men of pistols and daggers. Do you think that any man would call them brave, if they had been content to be modestl Oh no their heart would have shown as 1t is, as white as blanched lily. Great words are the sunshine, which color with thousand bright hues, the milky vapor of towards fvart. What sayeth Bassanio?

 ," How many towards, whose hearts arc all

 as false

 :" As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their

 

 The boards of Hercules and frowning

 Mars;

 < Who, inward searched, have livers white

 as milk

 {" And these assume but valor's excrement, ss To render them redoubted.'

 Take then my advice-I charge nothing for it-be always at pains to show all your virtues to the world; and if you think that you possess not quite so many of them as you ought, make at least a pretence. "The world Is oft deceived with ornament"

 $ His nose was as sharp as q pen, and n n bahhled of. green fields.'

 l have seen men do so, in which it seem- cd as odd as in Sir John Falstaff. Hear your Poet, who has never seen the outside of Q smoky city, babble of green fieIds.-- There s iie man, though, SC incapable of enjoying. as God meant man shes!!dd enjoy, green fields-the rushing of water -the blue sky-the deep glory of the woods, as your saving, careful, cent. per cent. man of money.a What cares he whether the fields. are green or black, so that his money brings him good nterest--svhether the sky is blue or yellow, so that t rains enough to help on his steam-boats. lie looks into the deep woods--and their green magnihcence only suggests to him the idea, how much charcoal would they make

 And your little Miss--the pretty, pant ing, loye-lorn lady--whose head is full of novels and poetry, she babies of green iieitis-and senssbiiIty-and solitlde-and then screams at a spider--goes into fits at the sight of a snake-and when sine rides out, takes care to have the windows of her carriage up.

 "They will steal any thing, and call it purchase