as the best of men; and to be wise, requires the aid neither of fortune nor of learning. It is a quality to which these may prove accessories, but of which they form no constituent part. They may contribute to its increase, in the same manner as the scaffolding is made subservient to the erection of a building, and, nevertheless, be themselves of no farther use.

To state clearly the difference which I conceive to subsist between wisdom and learning, I would compare the latter to the body, and the former to the soul which animates it. The body, though a machine compounded of exquisite workmanship, and wondrous sensibility, and of itself a most satisfactory demonstration of the wisdom of its Maker, is, nevertheless, nothing more than a covering to the soul, without which man is nowise superior to a brute. And thus learning, whatever excellence it may be said to possess, is not otherwise useful than as being the "materials with which wisdom builds." As the body without the soul is dead, so learning without wisdom is inert: the head may be filled with various learning, while the heart is devoid of every good quality. But as the soul can exist in a state independent of, and separate from the body, so a man may be consummately wise who is altogether unlearned. For in the future state "knowledge shall die," but wisdom shall survive the wreck of worlds.

At the same time, I would by no means be understood to assert that learning is in itself absolutely useless. There are certain things with which every one ought to make himself acquainted, and without which no one can acquit himself with propriety in the common concerns of life. There are, too, some studies which, though superfluous to mankind in general, are nevertheless highly useful to individuals. Nor would I

repudiate such learning as, though it may not be altogether necessary, is yet acknowledged as being highly ornamental. Such acquisitions to true wisdom as these resemble the decorations of a pillar, which, though. they do not add to its strength or stability, are yet found greatly to increase its beauty. As too many ornaments deprive a majestic column of its grandeur, so too many accomplishments corrupt instead of refining the heart. A wise man devoid of these is no less wise, though he may be less agreeable for being so; while a moderate share of them tends to make his company equally instructive and delightful.

What studies are really useful I do not intend at present to inquire. A person who is sincerely seeking after wisdom will not, probably, need any direction; and one who is only desirous of knowledge will not attend to any. Reason points out to every discerning eye that wisdom is to be found, not in poring over ample libraries, but in studying the human heart; and he who understands, obeys her.

Learning often begets pride, as wisdom always does humility. The more we know of others, the less are we apt to be acquainted with ourselves, and the more ready, of course, to become vain of our acquirements; but the more we know of ourselves, the more diffident we shall become, and the wiser we shall grow. Learning delights in words, while wisdom seeks for ideas— the object in the former case being mere parade, and in the latter a practical and beneficial application. A speech may be pompous and yet devoid of merit, and poverty of idea is often clothed in grandeur of expression. Affectation has often been the failing of a learned, but never of a wise man. The one is desirous of being considered great, the other wishes only to

be good. The former seeks the applause of men; the latter, the approbation of his own conscience. The first is ambitious of being admired, but is in no wise solicitous to render himself useful, while the other de sires only that he may be esteemed, and useful to his fellow-creatures.

Learning is, in itself, inert and inactive; but wisdom is the perfection of knowledge, and, as the wisest of men observed, its nature is "to give life to them which have it." The book from which the above quotation is borrowed was the composition of Solomon in the days of his repentance; and, therefore, displays more true wisdom, and will be of greater utility to mankind, than, it is probable, his more scientific work (in which he treated of all plants, from the tall cedar of Lebanon to the lowly hyssop on the wall) would have been, had it been preserved. The latter work would have amused and entertained, and have displayed the learning of its author, but the other is full of the truest lessons of that wisdom which was taught by experience and by the Holy Spirit. Finally, learning has often been deleterious both to its possessor and to society, but wisdom has ever been of advantage to both.

No. 11.-November 9, 1813.

Nemo fuit repente turpissimus.-JUVENAL.

THE following letter needs neither introduction nor comment; I shall, therefore, leave my readers to make their own reflections, without offering any of my own.

"TO THE OBSERVER.

"Bridewell.

"SIR,-You will be surprised, but I hope not offended, when you perceive the place from whence this letter is dated. My reluctance in writing is great; my motives for doing so will be best perceived by the sequel.

"Since my confinement in this place, I have, through the kindness of my keeper, had an opportunity of perusing your papers, and have conceived the design of making an atonement to injured justice by your means; for I am convinced that a candid confession of my own crimes may be the means of deterring others from their commission, when they shall learn the horrid consequences of unbridled passion, and appetites unrestrained, and particularly when they shall be aware how small are the beginnings of vicious habits, which, nevertheless, when once rooted in the heart, are hardly, if ever, eradicated. I am the only son of a clergyman, whose living is in the north of England. I was the child of his old age, and the beloved of his heart. I cannot think of his indulgent care without feeling the most lively gratitude for having been blessed with such a parent, and the most sincere contrition for having so often neglected his affectionate advice. From my earliest youth I was taught to consider every species of wickedness as being not only sinful but dishonourable; and not only offensive to God, but also incompatible with really polite behaviour. I viewed it, therefore, with a double abhorrence, and at that period of my life it was my utmost endeavour to avoid every thing that was wicked, and to cultivate all that was amiable. It was with delight that I learned the noble sentiments of the truly great, and, imbibing their spirit, sought to imitate their actions.

"If, sir, you have never known what it is to be a parent, you cannot easily conceive the pleasure which my parent manifested at the sight of my improving virtues. He watched the fair buds, and saw them blossom. But little did he apprehend that they would so soon wither and die, and that the fruit they promised would be destroyed by the contagious blast. Unhappily for me this excellent parent died when I was in my sixteenth year, and left me to the protection of Heaven, for I had no earthly friend. But though I had no guardian to shelter my unpractised youth, I was not altogether destitute of the means of support; for the retired manner in which my father had generally lived had enabled him to leave me a competency, with which I might have lived contentedly, if I had only possessed fortitude enough to overcome temptation, and to follow the resolutions which I then began to form.

"When death had bereaved me of my best friend, the world, I thought, had nothing to offer me that was worthy my acceptance. I looked with distaste on all around me, and shunned the intercourse of those whom I had once esteemed. I retired to lodgings, and lived in a degree secluded from the rest of mankind. I soon found, however, that my youth was ill calculated to endure affliction, and that retirement tended to aggravate, rather than relieve my sufferings. I then became desirous of applying myself to some profession, not so much to acquire a fortune as to find for myself an employment in which I might be useful. Imagining that the medical profession best suited me, I determined to prosecute my studies at one of the universities; but, before I carried my plan into execution, I wrote to a particular acquaintance of my late father's, to ask his opinion and counsel. He encouraged my proposal, but