ng attachment, smoothing the various
paths of life, and, it must be added, concealing grave faults. Laxities
of conduct that might well blast the reputation of a man or a woman are
constantly forgotten, or at least forgiven, in those who lead a life of
tactful good-nature, and in the eyes of the world this quality is more
valued than others of far higher and more solid worth. It is not
unusual, for example, to see a lady in society, who is living wholly or
almost wholly for her pleasures, who has no high purpose in life, no
real sense of duty, no capacity for genuine and serious self-sacrifice,
but who at the same time never says an unkind thing of her neighbours,
sets up no severe standard of conduct either for herself or for others,
and by an innate amiability of temperament tries, successfully and
without effort, to make all around her cheerful and happy. She will
probably be more admired, she will almost certainly be more popular,
than her neighbour whose whole life is one of self-denial for the good
of others, who sacrifices to her duties her dearest pleasures, her time,
her money, and her talents, but who through some unhappy turn of temper,
strengthened perhaps by a narrow and austere education, is a harsh and
censorious judge of the frailties of her fellows.

It is also a curious thing to observe how often, when the saving gift of
tact is wanting, the brilliant, the witty, the ambitious, and the
energetic are passed in the race of life by men who in intellectual
qualities are greatly their inferiors. They dazzle, agitate, and in a
measure influence, and they easily win places in the second rank; but
something in the very exercise of their talents continually trammels
them, while judgment, tact, and good-nature, with comparatively little
brilliancy, quietly and unobtrusively take the helm. There is the
excellent talker who, by his talents and his acquirements, is eminently
fitted to delight and to instruct, yet he is so unable to repress some
unseemly jest or some pointed sarcasm or some humorous paradox that he
continually leaves a sting behind him, creates enemies, destroys his
reputation for sobriety of thought, and makes himself impossible in
posts of administration and trust. There is the parliamentary speaker
who, amid shouts of applause, pursues his adversary with scathing
invective or merciless ridicule, and who all the time is accumulating
animosities against himself, shutting the door against combination