Southern Telegraph

In the pursuit of knowledge, humility is indispensable; for one who is too proud to ask questions, and whose vanity will not allow him to acknowledge the mental superiority, or the more profound acquirements of another, either with regard to general information, or knowledge of any particular science or profession, will advance but slowly; the dread of appearing ignorant will cause him to remain so. Now, which is preferable to appear wise and learned, though a fool, or an ignoramus, or by an unpretending, humble deportment, to gain wisdom and knowledge, and, without seeming to possess it, to reap the fruits thereof in silence; or, at least, be prepared, should an occasion offer, to apply the judgment and knowledge so acquired, with the greater effect? For the undiscerning multitude, finding themselves mistaken, their contempt will be changed to respect, and neglect to admiration—for the majority of mankind undoubtedly love truth and virtue, though they generally give themselves very little trouble to discover the one, or practice the other. Appearances, however, are often so specious, that the most experienced are liable to be deceived. By aping the manners and habits of men of genius, many endeavor to gain a short-lived renown, which is sure to be succeeded by lasting contempt. If they do emerge from obscurity for a moment, and succeed in exciting public attention and curiosity, having no intrinsic merit to support them, they are only rendered the more pre-eminently ridiculous.

Some content themselves with imitating the vices of celebrated men, and affect their eccentricities and follies. They will be infidels, like Voltaire, Rousseau, and Tom Paine—dissipated and improvident, like Burns, Otway, Goldsmith, and others—and finally, perhaps, suicides, like Chatterton!

The most remarkable delusion of this kind of which I have ever heard or read, was that of a man who forsook his wife, and went into voluntary banishment, in imitation of Lord Byron! For the honor of human nature, it is to be hoped this is not a fact—though instances might be given, where men have made as great, if not greater sacrifices to vanity. Strange, that so many will neglect the substance, and pursue the shadow!

The love of praise and desire of fame is natural, and even, when properly regulated, commendable; but the aspirant for celebrity must endeavor to deserve it; for, let his genius be ever so great, industry cannot be dispensed with. His toil must be unremitted, at least for a season, and his faculties in continual exercise. Even then, it is dangerous to relax his efforts. It has been the lot of many, after having attained a certain degree of excellence in any pursuit, or in general knowledge, to discontinue their inquiries and exertions altogether, under the impression that they have acquired a sufficient fund of information and wisdom, and that further toil is unnecessary. They forget that not to advance is to recede, and that he who is most confident in his own wisdom, generally possesses the least—his misdirected knowledge only serving to make his folly the more glaring. Others, through indolence, and want of energy, or, perhaps, the love of pleasure—or all these together—give up, in absolute despair, and renounce the object which appears to them so difficult to obtain. Here is the stumbling-block! But remember, "He that layeth his hand to the plough, let him not turn back." Hesitation is certain defeat. On the contrary, our own experience, added to that of those who have preceded us, proves that untiring perseverance and unflinching resolution must ultimately triumph. Nor will the time appear so long as we now anticipate. Ask the most aged, and they will tell you that it appears to them "but yesterday," that certain things occurred, which happened about half a century, perhaps, before you were born. The writer of this article himself recollects an old lady, who is probably still living, who used to talk of Gen. Washington, Lafayette, and Count Rochambeau, as familiarly as though they had but recently figured among us, entering minutely into particulars respecting the personal appearance of the French and American troops, as well as their commanders.

What does all this prove? you may ask. It proves nothing, gentle reader, but that we should employ our time well, allowing not a moment to pass unimproved, since, after a long life of industry and usefulness, it will appear that we have accomplished but little, and our regret will be increased by the reflection that, during our brief existence, we have neglected so many opportunities of doing good, and preparing ourselves for the final change.

FREDONICUS.

He is a temperate man whose reason rules his appetite, and he is an intemperate man whose appetite rules his reason.