actual world. His sensibility will make him alive to a thousand annoyances, which would be scarcely perceptible to one of colder mould; his eloquence will obtain just admiration enough to deceive him; and his melancholy only asks a few years' experience to deepen into utter despondency. Still, give me his town address; I will, if I can, serve any friend of yours."
"He has wonderful talents," continued his friend.
"Talents," resumed Lord Norboume, "of this high and imaginative order, seem to me rather given to benefit others than their possessor. Their harvest is in the future, not the present. Their brains produce the golden ore, which commoner hands mould to the daily purposes of life."
"I think," replied the young advocate, unwilling to give up a point in which his feelings were interested, "that even you would believe in Walter Maynard's success in life, if you knew him. What has brought the world to its present state, but individual talent?"
"I do not deny your assertion," said his
