riage, births, burials, and bankruptcies, becomes at length insipid; something of a higher relish must be found; and then, oh! then, murder of even a worse kind succeeds, and to the killing of time succeeds the slaughter of reputations.

Thus, as I before said, gossips are not originally malevolent, but their evil speaking results from their idle habits, and empty minds; for all minds require excitement of some sort, and where there is not proper and virtuous stimulus, there must be that improper and vicious excitement which tale-bearing, tittletattle, and gossip, produce. How like the existence of a squirrel in a cage, is that of a gossip, particularly that of the regular notorious gossip in a country town. The squirrel sleeps well, wakes at a certain hour, eats his accustomed food, takes his accustomed exercises in that twirling thing, which always goes the same way, and which he can not get out of; the squirrel expects and takes with much pleasure the offered nut or fruit, which is to him, what a piece of news is to the gossip; and then he goes quietly to his bed, when his usual quantity of food and exercise is taken, and wakes next day to a repetition of the same. And what does the gossip do more? The squir rel acquires no new ideas in the day, nor, I fear, does the gossip; but we do not expect a squirrel to gain ideas; we do expect it from human beings, for we know that they have duties to perform, and souls to be saved, whethey know it or not; know it I trust they do,

but then they forget it. The mournful truth is, they have so long accustomed themselves to idle away life and pass it in long talks, (as the savages say) which can do no one any good, and must do positive harm, that they are likely to remain what I have called them, nearly incorrigible; with them, alas! all inquiries are external; they know not what it is to commune with the secret heart; they are well read in the defects of others, but they never think of trying to discover their own. Therefore they must continue to saunter from street to street, from the club to the coffee-room, from one house to another, and from shop to shop, in weary succession, like the squirrel in in its ever-circling wheel, the pages of their passing hours bearing no characters fit to be handed by recording time to eternity, a burden often to themselves, and wholly useless if not wearisome to others.

Alas! poor squirrel! but still more pitiable gossip! for the squirrel knows not his privations, but gossips must occasionally be conscious of theirs. They must know the little mind that idleness produces listlessness, want of regular occupation, weariness; and that with increasing years comes increasing irritability, the result of conscious uselessness, and the want of those resources which enliven others. Gossips are indeed a pitiable race; and to the young gossip who may not be wholly incorrigible, I recommend a perusal of the following admirable admonition. "Let any man pass an evening in listless idleness, or even in

reading some silly tale, and compare the state of his mind when he goes to sleep, or gets up next morning, with its state some other day, when he has passed some hours in going through the proofs, by facts and reasoning, of some of the great doctrines in natural science, learning truths wholly new to him, and satisfying himself by careful examination of the grounds on which known truths rest, so as to be not only acquainted with the doctrines themselves, but able to show why he believes them, and to prove before others that they are true; and he will find as great a difference as can exist in the same being; the difference between looking back upon time improperly wasted, and time spent in self-improvement. He will feel himself in the one case listless and dissatisfied, in the other comfortable and happy; in the one case, if he does not appear to himself humbled, at least he will not have earned any claims to his own respect; in the other case he will enjoy a proud consciousness of having by his own exertions become a more wise, and therefore a more exalted creature.'

The following appropriate extract is from the Government of the Tongue, a work written by the author of the Whole Duty of Man.

"The historian gives it as an ill indication of Domitian's temper, that he employed himself in catching and tormenting flies; and sure

* Vide the "Preliminary Treatise on the objects, advantages, and pleasures of science," by H. BROUGHAM, page 46.

they fall not under a much better character either for wisdom, or good nature, who thus snatch up all the little fluttering reports they can meet with, to the prejudice of their neighbours. But, besides the divulging the faults of others, there is another branch of detraction naturally springing from this root, and that is censuring and severe judging of them. We think not we have well played the historians, when we have told the thing, unless we add also our remarks and animadversions in it,. a process contrary to all rules of law or equity, for the plaintiff to assume the part of a judge. And we may easily divine the fate of that man's fame that is so unduly tried."

It is not necessary for me to give any specimen of the manner and language of a gossip, because I illustrate them in the following account of the most numerous class of detractors, and the second on my list, namely, TALKERS

OVER.

Though gossips must be talkers-over, talkersover are not always gossips, but are other persons of a higher order of mind, and capable sometimes of better things. By talkers-over I mean myself, and almost every one else; that is, every one who, whether in tête-á-tête, in small family, or friendly circles, or in the more extended field of a large assembly, talks over friends and acquaintances, and makes them, in any way, the favourite theme of conversation. -Such conversation often begins with kind inquiry, and perhaps encomium; sometimes, also, with pity; but pity is often the turnpike

road leading directly to detraction, and few stop at it, but proceed through it to detraction itself, with the rapidity of a carriage going down an inclined plane on a rail-road; for it is, perhaps, suggested, that the illness, the sorrows, or ruin, of the persons pitied proceed from their own fault, and the sufferers are charitably converted into delinquents also. But whenever or however the conversation begins, if it continues on persons instead of things, it ends commonly in detraction; that is, in lessening remarks on the subject of it, which, if they were overheard by their object, would cause them, probably, a sleepless night, after a painful day--would make them shudder, perhaps, at the treachery of the relative or friend in whom they had confided, and would cause them to look upon existence itself as a trial to be endured, not as a benefit to be enjoyed. Happy those who, when convinced by painful experience of the emptiness of worldly dependence, are enabled to obey the important command:-"Cease ye from man whose breath is in his nostrils!" and to rely wholly on that Friend which faileth not"the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever!"

I own, that there is something tempting and agreeable in talking over one's friends and acquaintances; and even children soon learn to enjoy it, as the following anecdote evinces. "Mamma," cried a little boy, while his parents were receiving some morning visiters, "when will these people go away that we may talk about them?" TALKING-OVER, as I

I