though we may the probability of death, is there no voice for us in this conviction of living? You may live, we confess, every one; and yet it needs no spirit of prophecy to foretell, ere the coming year shall have gone, some of you shall also have gone hence for ever: ears now listening shall have ceased to hear; eyes now gazing have been fixed in death; and thoughts, busied "thoughts have all perished." Still, you may be correct in reckoning on life; but do you reckon therewith the future and increasing accountableness? comes there, with the persuasion you shall see another Christmas, the remembrance that it must have brought with it twelve fresh months to be answered for at the judgment? comes there the consciousness that, though you could be sure of being "a hundred years old," it must be with the certainty of a proportionate responsibility?-or are you, instead of this, anticipating the weeks and months in prospect as only to be lived through and enjoyed, and when past, of no longer account? Mistaken man! how awfully you miscalculate. The years you so build on may, if you see them, bring ages of woe, every new one multiplying the interminable wretchedness. It is not to live, thus to get through our days; for a completed century thus spent may find us, as regards eternity, the manhood of being, worse than the child who has scarcely begun to live. If, then, the possibility of death have no power of impressing you with the necessity of walking henceforth in Christ Jesus, at least let the hopes of life, bright and cloudless as they may be, not be without such effect. You may survive through the just-beginning year; its weeks may bring to you much of earthly happiness and peace-God grant that they may but O, pause and consider; shall they bring you peace at the last," by testifying your advancement in the pathway of heaven? Failing of this, they bear with them only fresh. portions of the curse; every month of life lowers with the terribleness of the second death; and the keenest anguish which can be experienced over departed childhood, and youth in its loveliness snatched away, must be esteemed as joy compared with that which shall be felt for the living, who, spared even to a hundred years old, at a hundred years old shall be accursed. THE CHARACTERS OF THE JEHOVAH OF THE JEWS AND THE LORD JESUS CHRIST COMPARED.* Ir has struck me very forcibly of late, that a new and luminous body of evidence to the divinity of the Saviour might be derived from a comparison of the chaFrom Rev. Henry Woodward's "Thoughts and Reflections." racter of God as revealed in the Old Testament, and particularly in the prophets, with that in which the Gospels exhibit the Lord Jesus Christ. I believe that the representation of God, as humbling himself, is altogether peculiar to the Scripture revelation. It is true that the gods of the gentiles debased themselves to the lowest level of human intrigues and human vices. But no heathen records represent them as condescending in the mode of bearing indignities with patience, of meeting insult and ingratitude with longsuffering, and perseveringly endeavouring to overcome evil with good. Such, however, is, I might say, in a peculiar and emphatic sense, the character which the Old Testament Scriptures attribute to Jehovah. To take a few of those instances which might fill a volume. When the Almighty would represent himself as the husband of his people, hear his inexpressibly tender and deeply affecting language: "For thy Maker is thy husband; the Lord of hosts is his name; and thy Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: the God of the whole earth shall he be called. For the Lord hath called thee, as a woman forsaken and grieved in spirit, and a wife of youth, when thou wast refused, saith thy God. For a small moment have I forsaken thee; but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord, thy Redeemer" (Is. liv. 5-8). "They say, if a man put away his wife, and she go from him, and become another man's, shall he return unto her again? Shall not that land be greatly polBut thou hast played the harlot with many luted? lovers; yet return again to me, saith the Lord" (Jer. iii. 1). Or, when he would speak in the accents of a parent, to what depths of condescension does he stoop! "Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth; for the Lord hath spoken: I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib: but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider" (Is. i. 2, 3). But there are yet lower depths to which almighty goodness deigns to condescend; as in Isaiah xliii. 24, "Thou hast made me to serve with thy sins, thou hast wearied me with thine iniquities." "Behold, I am pressed under you, as a cart is pressed that is full of sheaves" (Amos ii. 13). "O my people, what have I done unto thee? and wherein have I wearied thee? Testify against me" (Micah vi. 3). Now, if it be asked, in the language of the Psalmist, "Who is like unto the Lord our God, that hath his dwelling so high, and yet" thus "humbleth himself?" I answer; that between that God who revealed himself to David, and the incarnate Saviour, there is a sameness and identity of character which cannot be mistaken. If, for instance, Jehovah describes himself as the husband of the Church, and as feeling all the tenderness of that relation; the apostle thus speaks in reference to the Lord Jesus: "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word; that he might present it to himself a glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing" (Eph. v. 25-27). And here I cannot avoid observing, that if the Jewish and Christian Churches be, as in truth they are, the same, the one being only the enlargement and perfection of the other; the fact that Jehovah and Jesus are each set forth in Scripture as the husband of the Church, would, of itself, be sufficient to establish their identity. Can it be supposed that the Church, which, in her minority and weakness, was no less than the spouse of God, should, when advanced to her full maturity, and arrayed in all her glory, be divorced from the Creator, and married to a creature? Again, if the Almighty, under the old dispensation, speaks, in accents of the most touching tenderness, as a parent, we find the blessed Jesus thus lamenting over the beloved city: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen doth gather her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!" (A passage which, it may be remarked, establishes on other and unquestionable grounds the identity for which we are contending.) And further, do the prophets describe Jehovah in such terms as those of "serving with his people's sins," &c.?-we find, in Matt. xx. 27, 28, the exactest parallel: "Whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant; even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." And in Luke xxii. 27: "I am among you as he that serveth." In conducting this comparison, it must be allowed (though to those who have not considered the point before, it may appear startling), that the condescensions of the Most High are set forth in more frequent and express declarations of patience, forbearance, and long-suffering, in the Old Testament, than in the New. But the reason of this is plain. The same Being who, under the former dispensation, "spake unto the fathers by the prophets," manifests himself under the latter in living and palpable exhibition; and therefore the humility of the incarnate God appears in what he did and suffered, still more than in what he said. Nay, though he spake as never man spake, his silence expresses what no words can reach. When "the high and lofty One, that inhabiteth eternity," declares that he is "meek and lowly in heart," it does, indeed, "revive the spirit of the humble." But the impression is still more tender and profound, when we behold him assailed with taunts and insults, to which "he answered nothing" when we behold him "led as a lamb to the slaughter;" and when, "as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." If, to all that I have urged, it be objected, that the foregoing representatious of God, in the Old Testament, are not descriptions of what he is in himself, but mere accommodations to our weakness, I admit the objection to a certain extent. But, as far as it goes, it still more confirms the view which I have taken. It proves that Christ is identical with God; it proves that he is what the Scriptures declare, "God manifest in the flesh." SOME OF THE BENEFITS OF CATHEDRALS CONSIDERED.* "Ye have said, It is vain to serve God: and what profit is it that we have kept his ordinances!" Much of the time which was formerly dedicated to God has already been alienated, and applied to other uses. The practice of week-day prayers has almost entirely ceased in our parish-churches. The festivals of the Church are scarcely remembered. A portion of the nation, inconsiderable neither in numbers nor influence, is claiming the Sabbath as a day of worldly enjoyment. Where will be the end of these encroachments upon the worship and service of almighty God? The cathedral institutions present the strongest bulwark against further innovations in the national worship. They rest upon this broad principle, that it is sacrilege to curtail the worship of God. They remain as a standing protest against the modern doctrine, that man's indifference to his eternal interests may justify the desecration of holy places, and the abolition of holy ordinances. They seem to say to the fickle and impatient worshippers of the present day, Your fathers worshipped in this house of God; and not one word of their prayers, not one note of • From Selwyn's "Are Cathedral Institutions useless?" -- The their praises will we diminish, "whether ye will hear, or whether ye will forbear." The cathedral, whether it be attended by few or many worshippers, is still the perpetual temple of the Holy Ghost-the altar of morning and evening sacrifice -the oratory of daily and unceasing prayer Can it be denied that God is glorified by the daily worship of this the cathedrals may further remark, on point, that are almost the only places in which the word of God is publicly read on every day of the year. framers of the calendar evidently intended to combine, in the services of the Church, the two advantages of a complete perusal of the whole Bible,* and of a more particular application of select portions to certain days and scasons. The weekly order of the lessons answers to the one purpose; and the appointed lessons for Sundays and holydays to the other. The Sunday lessons are read in all churches; the lessons appointed for holydays, in the cathedrals and in a few parish churches: but in the cathedrals almost the whole of the Old Testament is publicly read once in every year, and the New Testament, with the exception of the Apocalypse, thrice. Is it, then, or is it not, the bounden duty of beings who derive all their hopes and blessings from their knowledge of revelation, to provide for the entire and constant publication of the word of salvation which God has mercifully revealed? If so, then the cathedral churches perform a service which, though it has been discontinued in most of our parish-churches, is doubtless acceptable in the sight of God, and therefore ought to be venerable in the eyes of men. The cathedral minister alone continues to read, "day by day, from the first day unto the last day, in the book of the law of God."+ Next to the duty of promoting the glory of God, by the ordinance of daily worship, the most important office of the cathedral clergy is intercession. Not a day passes in which they do not implore the mercies of God for this great and sinful nation, and for every one of the sinners of whom that nation is composed. Do the people sin? The prayer that rises continually to heaven, from within the sanctuary of the cathedral, seems to say, in the spirit of Samuel, "God forbid that I should sin against the Lord, in ceasing to pray for you." Does the great council of the nation err? Within the same walls the prayer is daily heard, that God" would be pleased to direct and prosper all their consultations to the advancement of his glory and the good of his Church." Are the clergy negligent? The same unceasing voice is heard to pray, that God" would send down upon our bishops and curates the healthful spirit of his grace, and pour upon them the continual dew of his blessing." Are the laity backward? Again the same intercessor offers up his daily prayer to God, that all men 66 may shew forth his praise, not only with their lips, but in their lives." Does the sin of schism prevail? The cathedral minister never ceases to pray," that all who profess and call themselves Christians may hold the faith in unity of spirit and in the bond of peace." In short, while the daily service of the cathedrals is maintained, the sun can never set upon any national or private sin, for which prayer has not that very day been offered up to almighty God. This is an advantage entirely distinct from that communion of prayer which is supposed by some to be essential to the effect of the ordinance. "The prayer of a righteous man," as St. James tells us, "availeth much." And this peculiar power of intercession is well stated by Hooker, "that it is a benefit which the good have always in their power to With the exception of such portions of Scripture as have been intentionally omitted in the calendar, viz. parts of the Levitical law, of the prophecy of Ezekiel, and of the book of Revelation. ↑ Nehemiah, viii. 18. At all events, this practice is a standing warning to remind us what was the original intention of the Church, and how much we fall short of it. bestow, and the wicked never in theirs to refuse." There must always be least communion in prayer at the very time that prayer is most needed. Abraham stood alone when he interceded with God. A sinful world may refuse to pray, but it cannot altogether set aside the mercy which is obtained for it by the intercession of the faithful. May the time never come when a single living soul shall be able to say with truth, that prayer is not made "without ceasing of the Church unto God for him " The Cabinet. THE RIGHTEOUSNESS OF CHRIST.-Adam is a type of Christ. How? In this respect: as the former was the cause of death to all his descendants, they did not (like him) eat of the forbidden fruit; so Christ is the cause, author, and procurer of righteousness to all his seed, though they have not (like him) been personally obedient-even of that righteousness which he finished for us on the cross. For this reason-to ascertain and appropriate the honour of this righteousness to Christ, as a work not wrought in us, but completed for us on the cursed tree. He insists and dwells upon that very remarkable circumstance, one. He iterates and reiterates the emphatical word, one (Rom. v.). He introduces it again and again, and can hardly prevail upon himself to discontinue the repetition, " As by one man sin entered into the world. Through the offence of one many be dead. Not as it was by one that sinned so is the free gift. The judgment was by one to condemnation. By one man's offence death reigned by one. As by the offence of one judgment came upon all men unto condemnation. As by the disobedience of one many were made sinners. Thus the apostle again and again introduces the word one, and can hardly prevail upon himself to discontinue the repetition, that if a Jew should ask How can the world be saved by the well-doing of one, or by the obedience of Christ? you may be able to reply, on his own principles, How could the world be condemned by the evil doing of one, or by the disobedience of Adam?St. Chrysostom. To lay THE DESIRE OF ADMIRATION.†-"Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised" (Prov. xxxi. 30). The desire of admiration may originate in that instinct which leads us to seek the approbation and good-will of our fellow-creatures, and which was probably implanted in the human breast to unite mankind in the bonds of social amity; but as it ceases to be a virtue when it takes a wrong direction, I beg leave to place it on the list of those subjects which very properly demand a serious investigation preparatory to receiving the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. snares in order to captivate the affection of others, merely as a tribute to vanity, without any disposition to return that affection, is most dishonourable and unworthy of a Christian; it betrays artifice, falsehood, want of charity, an unfeeling disregard to the happiness of our fellow-creatures, and a want of that religious principle which enforces the acting towards others as we desire they should act towards us. Can such conduct be deemed innocent? Can the fairest form be any thing but deformity in the sight of God, in which a vain, callous, and false heart is lodged? From "The Life of Christ: illustrated by choice passages from one hundred and thirty-eight eminent British and foreign Divines; and embellished with seventy wood-engravings after celebrated masters. London: Ball, Arnold, and Co."-This is a beautiful book, splendidly got up. It contains the sacred text digested into several heads, and annotations or explanations by a variety of writers. The wood-engravings are very good, and from well-known pictures: for instance, the Crucifixion, and the Descent from the Cross, after the famous works of Vandyke and Rubens, with many others of the same class. This illustrated Life of Christ would make a most appropriate Christmas present. + From Mrs. Cornwallis's "Preparation for the Lord's Supper." That this crime, for such it ought to be called, is confined to the female sex, cannot be asserted, for every day affords instances of the same conduct in men, and many an amiable girl sinks into the grave a victim to their dissimulation and vanity. The misconduct of one sex will not, however, justify error in the other; both must be amenable to God, and by their motives they will be judged. It is possible that a woman may be so unfortunate as to please, where she has never sought to do so; in such a case she is certainly blameless; but, on perceiving a growing partiality, she should do more than not seek occasion to increase it, she should do every thing in her power, consistent with good manners, to check it. Is there not danger that she, who in single life practises coquetry to attract homage and attention, may follow the same course when married; and by so doing endanger the peace of her husband, and expose herself to the consequences of jealousy or wounded affection? No worthy motive can be attributed to a married woman who seeks to be admired by any man but her husband, and for him she ought to render her person and manners as pleasing as she can. A sensible woman, however, will never expect the same sort of attention from him after marriage that she received when single; both engage in cares and duties before unknown; his expenses are materially increased; his time must be devoted to his profession, or his private concerns; and in his wife he now naturally seeks a kind and faithful friend, to whom he can confide his cares and his most secret thoughts; who will manage his family with propriety, and render his house a retreat in which he may find peace, order, and rational conversation. To fulfil such expectations, should be the ambition of every wife, and she will find the confidence reposed in her more flattering than any homage that could be paid to her charms; for "the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, her children rise up and call her blessed." The desire of admiration is generally accompanied by dissipation. A vain female chooses to be seen; she can have no satisfaction but when she is attracting notice; mental pleasures are, therefore, unknown; and the faculties with which she is blessed are suffered to rust, or to be exercised only on the shape of a cap, or some such important trifle. Will such a life bear self-inquiry? how then will it bear the scrutiny which we must all stand at the last great day? Let the young, while they are yet uncontaminated by the world, accustom themselves to try its fashions and manners by the standard of religion: she is not an austere task-mistress; she demands no sacrifices that do not tend to our happiness; "her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." Moderate and virtuous pleasures are not prohibited, nor healthy exercise, nor social intercourse; excess only renders any of these things sinful. Let them recollect how short the season is during which personal charms will attract admiration; and when this is past, what is to be done if the mind has been neglected, and if the taste is lost for useful and profitable occupation? A frivolous woman in the decline of life is an object indeed of compassion; and heavy must be the years she has to drag on in weariness and neglect, not to mention self-reproach, if her time has been devoted only to vanity and folly. But the young woman who cultivates her mind, who shares in the innocent pleasures of life without setting her heart upon them, who practises her religious duties without austerity or ostentation, who displays neither affectation nor vanity in her manners and dress, who does all the good she can, without being obtrusive or too officious;-such a woman will be beloved by her relations, and esteemed by all who know her; and when the graces of youth are passed, she will neither regret them nor miss them, for her lovely well-cultivated mind will shine forth in her countenance, and her well-spent life will secure her permanent esteem. If she remain single, her virtues will ensure her many friends; if she marry, her husband's esteem and preference will increase with age, and when she "rests from her labours, her works shall follow her." THE CHURCH.-For the sake of the Church and the world, not less than for our own sakes, let us give diligence to clear up our interest in the Gospel, that "the joy of the Lord may be our strength" in his service. The want of personal assurance not only brings a loss in our own experience, but a hinderance to usefulness within our appointed sphere. Hence our efforts are often powerless in parrying off the attack of "him that reproaches us ;" and our attempts to "strengthen the weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees" of our brethren, unavailing. At some times, the dread of the charge of hypocrisy-at other times, the absence of the only" constraining" principle, "the love of Christ" stops the utterance of the "word of truth," damps our privilege, and obscures our character as a witness of our God and Saviour. Justly, indeed, might he punish our unfaithfulness in the neglect of this spiritual weapon, by forbidding us to speak any more in his name; and therefore, in deprecating this grievous judgment, the child of God, conscious of guilt, will cast himself at the footstool of mercy, "Take not the word of truth utterly out of my mouth." Not only, take it not out of my heart, but let it be ready in my mouth for a confession of my Master.-Bridges on the 119th Psalm. HONOUR GOD'S MINISTERS.-Take heed of that; for then God is dishonoured, when any thing is the more despised by how much it relates nearer unto God. No religion ever did despise their chiefest ministers; and the Christian religion gives them the greatest honour. For honourable priesthood is like a shower from heaven, it causes blessings every where; but a pitiful, a disheartened, a discouraged clergy waters the ground like a waterpot-here and there a little good, and for a little while; but every evil man can destroy all that work whenever he pleases. Take heed; in the world there is not a greater misery can happen to any man than to be an enemy to God's Church. All histories of Christendom, and the whole book of God, have sad records, and sad threatenings, and sad stories of Korah, and Doeg, and Baluam, and Jeroboam, and Uzzah, and Ananias, and Sapphira, and Julian, and of heretics and schismatics, and sacri legious; and after all, these men could not prevail finally, but paid for the mischief they did, and ended their days in dishonour, and left nothing behind them but the memory of their sin, and the record of their curse.-Bp. Taylor. Crush'd are the tendrils of the vine Each scatter'd branch neglected lies: Go to each far, each distant isle That glitters o'er the wide expanse, Of God's approving countenance; Go! where the glorious sun doth shine And let their glad hosannahs rise, Go! stay not, till each fragrant breeze Of ceaseless gratitude to heaven; "BE STRONG IN THE LORD." BY MISS EMRA. (For the Church of England Magazine.) "Be strong in the Lord, and the power of his might," He leads through the desert, still guiding aright; Complain not though weeds o'er thy wilderness spread, And dark may the cloud be that hangs o'er thy head. Remember the word to the faithful of old :"I will help, I will strengthen, yea, I will uphold; The right arm of my righteousness, that is thy stay, My love is thy pole-star by night and by day. I chose thee before earth's foundations were laid; Unfailing my promise, eternal my love, O, what is the answer? I lie at thy feet; I cling to thy promise, thy words I repeat; The Lord will conduct by a way yet unknown, Safe, safe to eternity, waiting awhile, THE CATECHISM.* THAT call not education, which decries Such lighter lore, but chiefly holds to view Thou still hast trod the right way and the best, City of God, my mother! yea, of thee "Excellent things are said;" nor this the least, That thou thy children giv'st the path to see Of life, and lead'st them by their God's behest. Miscellaneous. VILLAGE-CHURCHES IN ENGLAND.- Blessings on those old gray fabrics that stand on many a hill, and in many a lowly hollow, all over this beloved country; for, as much as we would reprobate that system of private or political patronage by which unqualified, unholy, and unchristian men have been sometimes thrust into their ancient pulpits, I am of Sir Walter Scott's opinion, that no places are so congenial to the holy simplicity of Christian worship as they are. They have an air of antiquity about them, a shaded sanctity, and stand so venerably amid the most English scenes, and the tombs of generations of the dead, that we cannot enter them without having our imaginations and our hearts powerfully impressed with every feeling and thought that can make us love our country, and yet feel that this is not our abiding-place. Those antique churches, those low, massy doors, were raised in days that are long gone by; around those walls, nay beneath our very feet, sleep those who, in their generations, helped, each in his little sphere, to build up our country to her present pitch of greatness. We catch a glimpse of that deep veneration, of that unambitious simplicity of mind and manner, that we would fain hold fast amidst our growing knowledge, and its inevitable remodelling of the whole framework of society. We are made to feel earnestly the desire to pluck the spirit of faith, the integrity of character, and the whole heart of love to kin and country, out of the ignorance and blind subjection of the past. Therefore it is that I have always loved the village-church; that I have delighted to stroll far through the summer-fields, and hear still onward its bells ringing happily to enter and sit down among its rustic congregation, better pleased with their murmur of responses, and their artless but earnest chant, than with all the splendour and parade of more lofty fabrics.-W. Howitt. WILLIAM COLLINS.-My last interview was on the 30th day of September, 1815, when, accompanied by Mrs. Bowles, the Rev. Mr. Skinner, and the Bishop of the diocese (Bath and Wells), I again visited the abode of this sole survivor of a whole buried generation of the parish (Uphil in Somersetshire). He was seated near the window, by a small fire, and seemed more collected than when I last saw him, though now turned of ninety years. He instantly remembered me, and pressed my hand, which he held in his for some time, with tears in his eyes. His voice was clear and distinct. His daughter was with him. The inside of the cottage was very neat, and on the table, amongst a few other books, an old Bible was conspicuous, near which stood, most appropriately, an hour-glass. I From Bishop Mant's "Musings on the Church and her Services." most bene volent frie made some religious reflections on the silent sands of life slowly passing away, and on the book which, when these sands are all shed, sets before us the "sure and certain hope of eternal life;" and I never shall forget the words and actions of my most benevolent friend the bishop, who appeared deeply interested in the scene. "My good old man," he said, with a gentle smile, "in the present days, I fear a bishop's blessing may not be thought so valuable as it has been in ages past; but," placing his hand on the old man's head, he added, in a manner and voice most affecting, "such as it is, it is given most warmly." Piously and placidly, this humble and ancient servant of Christ now waits the end of his long and weary journey upon earth, an "exile hastening to be loosed," in "the full assurance" of "faith" and "hope." Baptised and brought up in the bosom of the Church, from which, in his maturity and in old age, he never departed, we trust that at his last hour, when that awful hour approaches, and his last sand is shed, with his trembling hand clasping the Bible to his heart, through repentance and grace, he may be enabled to lift up his eyes to heaven, and faintly utter, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" We looked on his countenance some time in silence, and then departed with a blessing and a prayer. We left his solitary abode not without boding feelings, as, in all human probability, we should see his face no more.-Rev. W. Bowles. that.' THE SUNDAY-SCHOLAR.—“ One day," said Mr. Robert Raikes, of Gloucester, the institutor of Sundayschools," as I was going to church, I overtook a soldier just entering the church-door; this was on a week-day. As I passed him, I said it gave me great pleasure to see that he was going to a place of divine worship. Ah, sir,' said he, I may thank you for Me?' said I; why I do not know that I ever saw you before.' 'Sir,' said he, when I was a little boy, I was indebted to you for my first instruction in my duty. I used to meet you, at the morning service, in this cathedral; and was one of your Sunday-scholars. My father, when he left this city, took me into Berkshire; and put me apprentice to a shoemaker. I often used to think of you. At length I went to London: and was there drawn to serve as a militiaman, in the Westminster militia. I came to Gloucester last night, with a deserter: and I took the opportunity of coming this morning to visit the old spot; and in the hope of once more seeing you.' He then told me his name; and brought himself to my recollection by a curious circumstance, which happened whilst he was at school. His father was a journeyman currier ; a most vile, profligate man. After the boy had been some time at school, he came one day and told me that his father was wonderfully changed; and that he had left off going to the alehouse on Sunday. It hap and said to him, My friend, it gives me great pleasure pened soon after, that I met the man in the street, to hear that you have left off going to the alehouse on Sunday; your boy tells me that you now stay at home, and never get tipsy.' 'Sir,' said he, I may thank you for it.' Nay,' said 1, that is impossible; I do not recollect that I ever spoke to you before.' 'No, sir,' said he; but the good instruction you give my boy, he brings home to me; and it is that, sir, which has induced me to reform my life.'"-Penny Sunday Reader. |