honoured with the name of Fathers; whose volumes I confess not to open without a secret reverence of their holiness and gravity; sometimes to those later doctors, which want nothing but age to make them classical; always to God's book. That day is lost, whereof some hours are not improved in those Divine monuments: others I turn over out of choice; these out of duty. Ere I can have sat unto weariness, my family, having now overcome all household distractions, invites me to our common devotions; not without some short preparation. These, heartily performed, send me up with a more strong and cheerful appetite to my former work, which I find made easy to me by intermission and variety: now, therefore, can I deceive the hours with change of pleasures, that is, of labours. One while mine eyes are busied, another while my hand, and sometimes my mind takes the burthen from them both; wherein I would imitate the skilfullest cooks, which make the best dishes with manifold mixtures; one hour is spent in textual divinity, another in controversy; histories relieve them both. Now, when the mind is weary of others' labours, it begins to undertake her own; sometimes it meditates and winds up for future use; sometimes it lays forth her conceits into present discourse; sometimes for itself, after for others. Neither know I whether it works or plays in these thoughts; I am sure no sport hath more pleasure, no work more use; only the decay of a weak body makes me think these delights insensibly laborious. Thus could I all day (as ringers use) make myself music with changes, and complain sooner of the day for shortness than of the business for toil, were it not that this faint monitor interrupts me still in the midst of my busy pleasures, and enforces me both to respite and repast; I must yield to both; while my body and mind are joined together in these unequal couples, the better must follow the weaker. Before my meals, therefore, and after, I let myself loose from all thoughts, and now would forget that I ever studied; a full mind takes away the body's appetite no less than a full body makes a dull and unwieldy mind; company, discourse, recreations, are now seasonable and welcome these prepare me for a diet, not gluttonous, but medicinal; the palate may not be pleased, but the stomach; nor that for its own sake; neither would

I think any of these comforts worth respect in themselves but in their use, in their end, so far as they may enable me to better things. If I see any dish to tempt my palate, I fear a serpent in that apple, and would please myself in a wilful denial; I rise capable of more, not desirous: not now immediately from my trencher to my book, but after some intermission. Moderate speed is a sure help to all proceedings; where those things which are prosecuted with violence of endeavour or desire, either succeed not, or continue not.

After my later meal, my thoughts are slight; only my memory may be charged with her task, of recalling what was committed to her custody in the day; and my heart is busy in examining my hands and mouth, and all other senses, of that day's behaviour. And now the evening is come, no tradesman doth more carefully take in his wares, clear his shopboard, and shut his window, than I would shut up my thoughts and clear my mind. That student shall live miserably, which like a camel lies down under his burden. All this done, calling together my family, we end the day with God. Thus do we rather drive away the time before us, than follow it. I grant neither is my practice worthy to be exemplary, neither are our callings proportionable. The lives of a nobleman, of a courtier, of a scholar, of a citizen, of a countryman, differ no less than their dispositions; yet must all conspire in honest labour.

Sweet is the destiny of all trades, whether of the brows, or of the mind. God never allowed any man to do nothing. How miserable is the condition of those men, which spend the time as if it were given them, and not lent; as if hours were waste creatures, and such as should never be accounted for; as if God would take this for a good bill of reckoning: Item, Spent upon my pleasures forty years! These men shall once find that no blood can privilege idleness, and that nothing is more precious to God, than that which they desire to cast away-time. Such are my common days; but God's day calls for another respect. The same sun arises on this day, and enlightens it: yet because that Sun of righteousness arose upon it, and gave a new life unto the world in it, and drew the strength of God's moral precept unto it, therefore justly do we sing with the psalmist; "this is the day which the Lord hath made." Now I forget the world,

and in a sort myself; and deal with my wonted thoughts, as great men use, who, at sometimes of their privacy, forbid the access of all suitors. Prayer, meditation, reading, hearing, preaching, singing, good conference, are the business of this day, which I dare not bestow on any work, or pleasure, but heavenly.

I hate superstition on the one side, and looseness on the other; but I find it hard to offend in too much devotion, easy in profaneness. The whole week is sanctified by this day; and according to my care of this, is my blessing on the rest. I show your lordship what I would do, and what I ought; I commit my desires to the imitation of the weak, my actions to the censures of the wise and holy, my weaknesses to the pardon and redress of my merciful God.- Bishop Hall.

"HE BROUGHT HIM TO JESUS."

RELIGION, although strictly a personal matter, is in no way a selfish one. The sinner must feel for himself the need of a Saviour, and by faith take hold of Him; but if he think that he has then done all he is required to do, he has yet to learn "the way of God more perfectly." When Andrew had found the Messias, he at once communicated the joyful news to others; and having "first found his own brother Simon, he brought him to Jesus!" What a beautiful picture is this of disinterested Christian love. He lost nothing by telling his brother of the Jesus he had found; and if we are true disciples of Christ now, we shall like him be eager to bring others to a knowledge of the Saviour which we have found to be precious to ourselves. When a man would live to himself, and draw round him merely the contracted circle of his own wants and comforts, we should be ready to doubt if ever he has gathered the honey of true godliness, or tasted the exceeding sweetness of a Saviour's love. If the farmer were to lay by every seed of corn in his granary, never would the wheat crop cover his field. He must sow in order to reap; and thus when a man hives up his hours and talents in a lonely cell, how shall we not expect at last to find a barren field, or to harvest a very scanty crop !

In the words of the Lord Jesus, "It is more blessed to give than to receive,' Doubtless king Alfred enjoyed the half of his loaf far more, when he knew that he

had stayed the hunger of a poor famishing fellow creature, and cheered up a sorrowful heart by dividing his scanty portion with him, than if he had fully satisfied his own wants, and given no thought to the misery of others. There is something so pleasing and gratifying in the feeling of being able to relieve want and wretchedness, that if we could imagine any sort of covetousness to be innocent, it must surely be that which would desire "this world's goods" only to be God's almoner in distributing them to his poor. And if in things temporal there accrue to the giver so great a blessing from the act of giving, what a far higher blessing is that which must result from bestowing eternal benefits on those who are "in the gall of bitterness, and in the bond of iniquity." In the restrictions of a poor-house, or in the liberty of a palace, the Christian is equally the steward of God's eternal wealth. There is a fulness in the Saviour which no application can exhaust; a freeness in his salvation which can never prove exclusive. He is the fountain to which we must all repair, before we can drink of "the waters of life;" and when once we have tasted them, and found them "sweeter than honey to our mouth," thither let us lead others to sip those streams of comfort, and prove the sincerity of our love to Jesus, by bringing many to him.

Will it be no satisfaction here to feel that we are not living in vain? Will it not cheer us onward towards our "Father's house" to think that some are there, already gone before us, who from our lips first heard of a Saviour's love, and felt the need of his salvation? And hereafter too will there be a bright reward, for "they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever," Dan. xii. 3.

Let us then strive to share this eternal splendour by now living as "children of the light." Let us not forget that the lamp must be trimmed on earth, or it will never burn in heaven. It must be our first care to see that we have oil in our own lamps, and then to lead others to the fulness whence we have been supplied. Christians are represented by our Lord, as the "light of the world," and it is his holy command, "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven," Matt. v. 16.

How then has our light shone? Has

any heart yet glowed before its warmth? Has any one been melted by its brilliancy, or fired by its flame? Or have we been always putting it under a bushel, afraid lest some rough wind might blow it out, or some impure touch dim its brightness? Have we ever sought to bring any one to Jesus? Have we ever told poor sinners of their own nothingness and of their Saviour's sufficiency and willingness to purge away all sin, and sanctify all sinners? and have we pointed them to Him, and urged them to flee at once for refuge to the only hope set forth in the gospel?

If we have never been heard thus speaking of our Saviour, can we ever yet really have loved him? Surely those we love most, we speak about most frequently. Oh! let us heed in time our Saviour's warning, "If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!" Matt. vi. 23.

What a lovely sight would be an earthly family, every member of which was a true disciple of Christ! As we ponder on the beauty of such a scene we almost seem to catch some faint glimpse of the love and unity of heaven, where the whole family of the redeemed join in one loud and eternal song of praise and thanksgiving! And such a scene is not beyond the power of realization. If every one who has found the Messias, resolved to be an Andrew in his own family, how many "brother sinners" would be "brought to Jesus!" How far lovelier still would grow the name of home: as gathered round the festive hearth, or standing over the bed of suffering, each felt there was one among them whom all were loving, the mention of whose name could never be intrusive! Bright characters then would shine in the dark world, and brilliant examples adorn the church, living here beneath God's smile, to dwell hereafter eternally in his presence!

The success

children in the Union-house from the older paupers, and to hire a house, with four or five acres of land for their accommodation and employment. Without any other assistance than that of the master, the boys, who are all under fourteen years of age, and of whom there are only about fifteen or sixteen equal to any effective labour, have raised from their little fields and gardens, crops of turnips, potatoes, mangold wurzel, cabbages, rye, vetches, etc. which have realized a clear annual profit to the establishment, after the payment of all expenses connected with the cultivation of the land, purchase of fresh stock, seed, etc., of upwards of seventy pounds. The cultivation of the land is entirely carried on by spade husbandry. which has attended the experiment is chiefly attributable to the abundance of labour and of manure which the managers have at their command-the latter is applied mostly in a liquid state, and is amply supplied, without expense, by the drainage and sewerage of the school being conducted into one large cesspool. As a remedy for that hereditary pauperism, which the workhouse system in its common shape engenders, this separation of the children from the adults is in itself a great advantage. But the chief use of the experiment may be said to be the proof which it affords of how readily those more useful classes of the community which are now only a source of expense, could be taught to contribute towards their own maintenance, and thus be made useful to society and to themselves, if only a really practical education, leading them to self-support and self-control, were given to them, instead of the merely intellectual instruction now too generally thought sufficient. Were the boys in all our workhouses, and it may be added in all our prisons, thus trained to industrial habits, and instructed in agriculture or other useful arts, it would be difficult to estimate the beneficial results, especially if the means and the encouragement to emigrate were also afforded."

To this we may add, and we do so joyfully, the Philanthropic Farm plan is now carrying out. An agreement has been made for 130 acres of land in the north of Middlesex, and the experiment of what can be done in this way for a part of the criminal population will be fairly tried in the course of next summer.*Literary Gazette.

*Since writing this, we observe in the daily press:-"At the quarterly meeting of the Philan

AMAZING FOLLY.

"Ir is amazing (speaking of the inattention of men to their best interests,) that a danger so strongly set forth should be disregarded; and this is the more amazing, when we take a view of the particular casts and complexions of character among which this disregard is chiefly found. They may be reduced to three different classes, according to the three different passions by which they are severally overcome,-ambition, avarice, and sensuality. Personal conse.. quence is the object of the first class, wealth of the second, pleasure of the third. Personal consequence is not to be acquired but by great undertakings, bold in the first conception, difficult in execution, extensive in consequence. Such undertakings demand great abilities. Accordingly, we commonly find in the ambitious man a superiority of parts, in some measure proportioned to the magnitude of his designs; it is his particular talent to weigh distant consequences, to provide for them, and to turn everything, by a deep policy and forecast, to his own advantage. It might be expected, that his sagacity and understanding would restrain him from the desperate folly of sacrificing an unfading crown for that glory that must shortly pass away. Again, the avaricious, money-getting man is, generally, a character of wonderful discretion. It might be expected that he would be exact to count his gains, and would be the last to barter possessions which he might hold for ever for a wealth that shall be taken from him, and shall not profit him in the day of wrath. Then, for those servants of sin, the effeminate sons of sensual pleasure, these are a feeble, timid race. It might be expected that these, of all men, would want firmness to brave the danger. Yet, so it is the ambitious pursues a conduct which must end in shame; the miser, to be rich now, thropic Society, the donation of 1007. was received from her Majesty and Prince Albert, as an earnest of their patronage to the Farm School; and that the chaplain stated also, that nineteen of the elder lads in the school in St. George's Fields had gone out as voluntary emigrants to Western Australia, careful arrangements having been made to secure them protection and employment, and that his list of candidates for the same advantage already contained nearly twenty names, the boys and their grant them, after such a probation as shall show them to be really trustworthy and of good character, a free passage and outfit to the colonies. It was mentioned that eighty-five lads had been received from different prisons and police-courts since the 1st of January, and that upwards of seventy had been provided with situations or been placed under the care of friends."

friends thankfully accepting the Society's offer to

makes himself poor for ever; and the tender, delicate voluptuary shrinks not at the thought of endless burnings! These things could not be but for one of these two reasons; either that there is some lurking incredulity in man, an evil heart of unbelief, that admits not the gospel doctrine of punishment in its full extent, or that their imaginations set the danger at a prodigious distance."-Horsley.

THE OCEAN.

"LET the waters under the heaven be

gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear," was the Divine command; and the consequence was, that the watery element assembled on one portion of the earth into seas, while the rest of the earth became habitable ground. No detail is given of the causes or movements by which this mighty result was effected. Here then the geologist is left free to form his most scientific speculations. If the globular surface was a uniform level, with an equal diffusion of the waters upon its whole circumference, some parts must have been then raised up, in order to produce adequate concavities, into which the aqueous masses could subside and collect. The exterior form of the earth is manifestly of this kind. Vast ranges of mountains and rocks are now seen standing in various places, as high above the common ground as the depths of the ocean seem to be below it, in which the seas are permanently assembled. The surface of the earth arises, in some parts, into high table land; but the general level of both land and sea is now nearly the same. The ocean is therefore obviously occupying cavities equal to its bulk of fluid; and the supposition has been recently made, that in order to form these hollow spaces, the mountain masses were raised up.

It seems a reasonable idea that the surface of the earth covered by the sea, much resembles, as to its plains, heights and cavities, that which we inhabit. There may be depths in the ocean extending to four or five miles, as there are mountains of this height on our dry land; but until we can find the means of measuring so deep a descent, this must be mere hypothetical calculation. Our soundings have not yet been found practicable to the extent of two miles. state and phenomena of these stupendous elevations, in many applicable points, favour the idea, and recommend it to our consideration.-Sharon Turner.

The

CHINESE CONGRATULATIONS.

THE Chinese always keep some holidays at the beginning of every new year, which is a time of great festivity to the whole people. The streets are crowded, and old and young appear with smiles on their faces. Boxes are fastened to the walls of houses, in which written papers are deposited, and these are burned, according to custom, when the new moon begins. No written or printed paper is ever wholly overlooked by the Chinese, who will save even a piece of paper that lies under their feet, because everything written in their language is considered by them as sacred. Other writings are also fastened to the walls in many public places. These contain moral counsels from the works of the wise men of the country, exhorting others to the practice of virtue. Some of them have pictures. I have seen such a tract, which describes the progress of wickedness in the human

heart, which at first is represented as white and spotless; presently, a black streak appears-the beginning of evilfrom a neglected education, as the Chinese say; and this spreads far and wide, until at length the whole heart is covered with black, to signify its total depravity. Underneath follow six comparisons, or allegorical sentences, all of which describe the heart as adverse to that which is good.

Sayings or proverbs of the same kind are fastened to the doors and doorposts of most of the houses, carefully written out from the learned books of the Chinese. Those young men who make it their business to copy out and dispose of these extracts, often gain considerable sums of money. Poor students sit and write them out at the corners of the streets, and invite the passers-by to purchase them. At the return of every new year, the last year's motto is thrown away, and a new one chosen in its stead. The papers used

C