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A Christian is God Almighty's gentleman: a gentleman, in the vulgar, superficial way of understanding the word, is the Devil's Christian. But to throw aside these polisht and too current counterfeits for something valuable and sterling, the real gentleman should be gentle in every thing, as least in every thing that depends on himself-in carriage, temper, constructions, aims, desires. He ought therefore to be mild, calm, quiet, even, temperate,-not hasty in judgment, not exorbitant in ambition, not overbearing, not proud, not rapacious, not oppressive; for these things are contrary to gentleness.


Thrift is the best means of thriving. This is one of the truths that force themselves on the understanding of very early ages, when it is almost the only means; and few truths are such favorites with that selfish housewifery shrewdness, which has ever been the chief parent and retailer of proverbs. Hence, there is no lack of such sayings as, A pin a day is a groat a year. Take care of the pence, and the pounds will take care of themselves.

Perhaps the former of these saws, which bears such strongly markt features of homelier times, may be out of date in these days of inordinate gains and still more inordinate desires; when it seems as though nobody could be satisfied until he has dug up the earth, and drunk up the sea, and outgallopt the sun. Many now are so insensible to the inestimable value of a regular increase, however slow, that they would probably cry out scornfully, A fig for your groat! Would you have me be at the trouble of picking up and laying by a pin a day, for the sake of being a groat the richer at the end of the year?

Still both these maxims, taken in their true spirit, are admirable prudential rules for the whole of our housekeeping through life. Nor is their usefulness limited to the purse. That still more valuable portion of our property, our time, stands equally in need of good husbandry. It is only by making much of our minutes, that we can make much of our days and years. Every stitch that is let down may force us to unravel a score.

it will be much rather for his own sake than for his neighbor's. Many persons, indeed, are said to be penny-wise and pound-foolish; but they who are penny-foolish will hardly be pound-wise, although selfish vanity may now and then, for a moment, get the better of selfish indolence: for Wisdom will always have a microscope in her hand.

But these sayings are still more. They are, among the highest maxims of the highest prudence, that which superintends the housekeeping of our souls. The reason why people so ill know how to do their duty on great occasions is, that they will not be diligent in doing their duty on little occasions. Here, too, let us only take care of the pence, and the pounds will take care of themselves: for God will be the paymaster. But how will He pay us? In kind, doubtless, by supplying us with greater occasions, and enabling us to act worthily of them.

On the other hand, as there is a law of continuity, whereby in ascending we can only mount step by step, so is there a law of continuity whereby they who descend must sink, and that, too, with an ever-increasing velocity. No propagation or multiplication is more rapid than that of evil, unless it be checkt; no growth more certain. He who is in for a penny, to take another expression belonging to the same family, if he does not resolutely fly, will find he is in for a pound.


Everybody is impatient for the time when he shall be his own master. And if.coming of age were to make one so, if years could indeed "bring the philosophic mind," it would rightly be a day of rejoicing to a whole household and neighborhood. But too often he who is impatient to become his own master, when the outward checks are removed, merely becomes his own slave-the slave of a master in the insolent flush of youth, hasty, headstrong, wayward, and tyrannical. Had he really become his own master, the first act of his dominion over himself would have been to put himself under the dominion of a higher master and a wiser.

called by our name. We can feel the truth of this in the case of a dear friend, of a brother; still more in that of a husband and wife, who, though two persons, are in every interest one. Were this love extended to all, it would once more make all mankind one people and one family. To this end, the first Christians sought to have all things in common: neither said any of them that aught of the things which he possest was his own, (Acts iv. 32.) In proportion as we grow to think and feel that the concerns of others are no less important to us than our own, in proportion as we learn to share their pleasures and their sorrows-to rejoice with them when they rejoice, and to suffer and mourn with them when they suffer and mournin the selfsame measure do we taste the blessedness of the promise that we shall inherit the earth. It is not the narrow span of our own garden, of our own field, that we then enjoy. Our own prosperity does not bound our happiness. That happiness is infinitely multiplied as we take interest in all that befalls our neighbors, and find an ever-flowing source of fresh joy in every blessing bestowed on every soul around us.


REV. JOHN KEBLE, vicar of Hursley, near Winchester, (born about the year 1805,) is extensively known and read as one of the sweetest sacred lyric poets of the present century. He attained considerable eminence as a general scholar in the University of Oxford, and held for some time the honorable post of "Professor of Poetry" there. He now confines himself chiefly to his duties as parish minister in the beautiful region near Winchester.

Mr. Keble is the author of "Child's Christian Year;" "The Christian Year;" "Lyræ Innocentium;""Prælectiones, Academicæ Oxonii Habitæ ;" "The Psalter or Psalms of David in English Verse;" and various "Sermons." He is also understood to be the writer of the very able article on "Sacred Poetry" in the thirty-second volume of the Quarterly Review.


"His compassions fail not. They are new every morning."-Lament. iii. 22, 23.

Hues of the rich unfolding morn,

That, ere the glorious sun be born,
By some soft touch invisible
Around his path are taught to swell;-

Why waste your treasures of delight
Upon our thankless, joyless sight?
Who, day by day, to sin awake,
Seldom of heaven and you partake?

Oh! timely happy, timely wise,
Hearts that with rising morn arise!
Eyes that the beam celestial view,
Which evermore makes all things new!'

New every morning is the love
Our wakening and uprising prove;
Through sleep and darkness safely brought,
Restored to life, and power, and thought.

New mercies, each returning day,

Hover around us while we pray;

New perils past, new sins forgiven,
New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven.

If on our daily course our mind

Be set, to hallow all we find,

New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.

We need not bid, for cloister'd cell,
Our neighbor and our work farewell,
Nor strive to wind ourselves too high
For sinful man beneath the sky:

The trivial round, the common task,
Would furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To bring us, daily, nearer God.

Only, O Lord, in thy dear love
Fit us for perfect rest above;
And help us, this and every day,
To live more nearly as we pray.


"Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent."-Luke xxiv. 29.

When the soft dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
Be my last thought, how sweet to rest
For ever on my Saviour's breast.
Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without Thee I cannot live:
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without Thee I dare not die.
Thou Framer of the light and dark,
Steer through the tempest thing

Watch by the sick: enrich the poor
With blessings from thy boundless store:
Be every mourner's sleep to-night
Like infants' slumbers, pure and light.

Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take;
Till in the ocean of thy love

We lose ourselves in heaven above.


"Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is expedient for you that I go away; for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but, if I depart, I will send him unto you."John xvi. 7.

My Saviour, can it ever be

That I should gain by losing Thee?
The watchful mother tarries nigh,
Though sleep have closed her infant's eye;
For should he wake, and find her gone,
She knows she could not bear his moan.
But I am weaker than a child,

And Thou art more than mother dear:
Without Thee heaven were but a wild:
How can I live without Thee here?

"Tis good for you that I should go,

You lingering yet awhile below;"-
'Tis thine own gracious promise, Lord!
Thy saints have proved the faithful word,
When heaven's bright boundless avenue
Far open'd on their eager view,
And homeward to thy Father's throne,

Still lessening, brightening on their sight,
Thy shadowy car went soaring on;

They track'd Thee up the abyss of light.





The days of hope and prayer are past,
The day of comfort dawns at last,
The everlasting gates again
Roll back, and lo! a royal train-
From the far depth of light once more
The floods of glory earthward pour;
They part like shower-drops in mid air,

But ne'er so soft fell noontide shower,
Nor evening rainbow gleam'd so fair

To weary swains in parched bower.



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