exist in the social state, are so by the appointment of nature. There is an artificial aristocracy, created by the improper constitutions of some governments, and the arbitrary and unequal laws of all, of the cause of whose greatness nature is entirely innocent. For instance, a man may inherit and enjoy all his life the title and honors of nobility, who, had he depended upon his natural resources for rank and station, might never have ascended in the scale of human excellence, beyond the condition of an agile circus-rider. And it is no less palpable, that a wealthy parent, through the influence of the laws of primogeniture, may transmit to his eldest son an inheritance which may place him high among the aristocracy of wealth, who, but for the fruits of a parent's acquisitiveness, might laudably have earned his bread by the sweat of his brow, and instead of being regarded as an exquisite dandy, might have been celebrated for his mechanical ingenuity, or the excellence of his 'goods, wares, and merchandise.' The same causes may sometimes operate to deprive nature's noblemen of their just station among men. Artificial worth may assume the place of natural; wealth and fashion may displace virtue and intellect; and genius and talent may be compelled to give precedence to a titled nobility, or to the possessors of vast estates.

Again. There are good objections to some natural pretenders to rank; even dame nature has her counterfeits and false forms; her mushrooms, her empty heads and shells. The fair-pretending tree may never blossom, or if it do, may neglect to bear fruit. The highest heads of wheat in the broad field are false and empty. But a correct observer of nature may readily distinguish between her false and her genuine productions; and a close observer of men will never be at a loss to detect, nor hesitate to deny, the bold pretensions of mere self-esteem.

Instinctive self-esteem enables its possessor, without seeking to form a just estimate of his own character, to regard himself as equal to all men, and superior to most of them; to arrive at conclusions without the dull and tedious process of reasoning, to which plodding creatures subject themselves; to have and maintain opinions, without the trouble of forming, or the labor of defending them; and to look down upon his superiors, without suspecting that they despise him, or a doubt of his own insolated and extraordinary excellence. He proverbially carries his head high; and it has been remarked by phrenologists, in the direction of the single organ to whose over-manifestation they allege he is indebted for all his conscious greatness. He forms one of nature's wild experiments, by which she has wantonly demonstrated, how enormous a structure of self-complacency can be based upon—nothing at all! He is one of nature's contradictions, by which she has proved how great an effect may exist without any cause whatever! In him you behold the origin of village greatness, which is dependent upon the size of two things, to wit: the large size of self-esteem, and the small size of the place it inhabits.

There is another pretender to high rank among men, whose claims are nearly as unfounded as those last under consideration. I mean the man who claims your high regard, not for what he is, but for what he has got—who exacts your admiration, not for what he does, but for what he has the power to do; and who, while he performs no good service to mankind, does not fail to impress them with the belief, that he might, at any time, if so disposed, astonish them with a display of generosity, and a noble exercise of the means of active benevolence, and permanent usefulness. He is the creature of the acquisitive instinct, whose sole merit is based upon successful efforts at accumulation. This instinct he possesses in common with various quadrupeds. The ground-squirrel possesses the same attribute, to a limited extent. Who has not observed this interesting animal crowding his cheek with autumnal fruits, and gaily carrying them to his winter quarters? But this little creature gathers only a competence; his instinct is a moderate one, and apparently under the guidance of reason; while the accumulating biped seems not to be a judge of a competency, and grows more eager in the pursuit of wealth, as it becomes less valuable to him. No propensity of the human mind gains more in activity and strength by exercise, than that of acquisitiveness. It may begin as a good instinct of man's nature, and excite him to lay up the means of satisfying his natural, and even his artificial wants. So far, its obvious utility demands our respect. But all men do not stop here. Even so much exercise as to attain this laudable end, may so heighten the natural disposition to accumulate, that it becomes the tyrant of the soul, and takes the lead of all the other propensities. It comes in conflict with the demands of the stomach, the suggestions of taste, and paternal affection; and the victim of avarice becomes also the victim of unsatisfied hunger, ungratified taste, and unindulged kindness. To use the terms of a science just beginning to be understood, his veneration is satisfied with adoring the matériel of Aaron's idol, to the exclusion of all other gods; his conscientiousness, quickened by cautiousness, is content with forbearing to take usury, when there is reason to fear a legal forfeiture; and his adhesiveness is never more strongly manifested, than when he sticks to a debtor 'closer than a brother,' until he pays the uttermost farthing. His secretiveness is active, when the tax-gatherer is at his door; and his cautiousness is extreme when listening to the tale of distress, or to the assurances of the suppliant borrower. His locality selects places for future cities; his size divides them into lots twenty-five by one hundred feet; and he disposes of them to those endowed with large marvellousness. He getteth rich—and is reverenced, because he has never been accused of theft, nor convicted of swindling.

It is not without emotions of pleasure, that I take leave of false pretension to rank and station, although it be to take up the humblest claim upon our attention made by the sons of genius. And here allow me to observe, that within the last forty years, certain individuals have claimed, that they have traced each particular demonstration of the various faculties and sentiments of the human mind to its source—which they allege to be an organ of the brain—and they have also adopted a nomenclature for the mental faculties, highly convenient, which I beg the privilege of employing, while I ask one farther favor of the reader, that, for the sake of convenience, if for no other reason, he will allow me to suppose each faculty of the mind to have its separate material organ. Even with this liberal concession on the part of the reader, it will be difficult to assign to each child of genius his appropriate rank in the scale of being. It is generally true, that the organs of the faculties and sentiments, which are not called into activity in the constitution of the man of genius, are in point of size at mediocrity or below it. The main strength of his character is derived from the striking fullness of the single organ which gives the bent to his mental inclination; but there is also a full development of certain other organs colleagued with that, which, following its lead, help out its inclinations, and conduct its work. These colleagues are few in number, and with their exception, the remaining mental organs of the man of genius are moderate, small, or inactive. His head is therefore uneven and irregular; that is, the reader is asked to suppose it to be so, for the sake of illustration. How often it is observed, that the man of genius wants that strong common sense, of which a very plain man may justly boast the possession? Does the genius lack the organ of common sense? Unhappily for many of the