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few weeks before, he not only saw the turned to England chagrined and whole splendid interior of high life sick at heart. When his travels were thrown open to him, but found him- concluded he thus wrote:-“Embar. self the most distinguished object rassed in my private affairs, indiffe. among its illustrious crowds" A rent to public; solitary, and without short time before the publication of the wish to be social; I am returning his poem, Byron had taken his sent home without a hope, and almost amidst the hereditary legislators of without a desire." Fresh literary trihis country. With genius, with umphs failed to secure him the håppopularity, and with rank, how bril- piness for which he sought; nor was liant the prospect which now lay be he more successful in finding it in a fore him! Yet it proved but the marriage which he soon afterwards deception of the mirage.

contracted. He saw, to use his In that with which, above all other own language, his household gods points, true happiness is so essen- shivered around him. Nine execu. tially connected-religious principle tions for debt entered his dwelling -his mind was singularly deficient; within a twelvemonth, and, at the it had been darkened by scepticism. end of that period, a separation enWhen a youth, some passing religious sued between his wife and himself. convictions appear to bave agitated Retiring abroad, he plunged afresh him ; for he wrote at that season a in streams of sinful pleasure. His poem containing the following lines: life became a miserable animal exFather of light, on thee I call!

istence; the source of wretchedness Thou seest my soul is dark within

to himself. He was, indeed, sick of Thou, who canst mark the sparrow's fall, it. “If I were to live over again," Avert from me the death of sin.

he writes, “I do not know what I If spiritual anxiety did for a mo- would change in my life, except not ment cross his mind, it was soon ob

to have lived at all." Similar sentiliterated by the irregularity of his

ments were expressed in his poetry: moral conduct. The memorials of

Count o'er the joys thine hours bave seen; his early years are full oi those re- Count o'er the days from anguish free ; cords of wasted seasons of usefulness And know whatever thou hast been, and squandered talents which lay up 'Tis something better not to be. such a store of reproach for after-life. The whole of his poetry, indeed, “The average hour of rising," says

continued to bear the impress of his one of his companions at Newstead morbid spirit. “Never had any Abbey" was one o'clock. It was writer.” says a critic. " so vast a two before breakfast was concluded."

command of the whole eloquence of Frivolous amusements consumed the

scorn, misanthropy, and despair. remaining hours, until the company, That Marah was never dry. No art at seven, sat down to an entertain could sweeten, no draughts exhaust, ment, which was prolonged till two

its perennial waters of bitterness. or three in the morning. The finest

From maniac laughter to piercing wines were abundantly supplied ; & lamentation, there was not a single cup, fashioned out of a human skull, note of human anguish of which he forming an unhallowed chalice out was not master. He always described of wbich the guests were expected

himself as a man whose capacity for occasionally to drink. The result of happiness was gone, and could not this life was such as might have be restored.” Restless and dissatisbeen anticipated-inward dissatis.

fied, he pursued new objects, and befaction. To use the poet's own lan

took himself to a visionary scheme

for the political regeneration of He felt the fulness of satiety,

Greece; a country which had atand be quitted his native shores for tracted his poetical sympathies. foreign travel, in the hopes of sup. Fresh disappointments awaited him plying his weary spirit with fresh ex- in this scene of action, and his heart's citement, but all in vain. Though aspirations after enjoyment were he carried with him a genius deeply again blasted. On the last birthday imbued with poetical power, he re- which he was destined to see, ho


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A fapere. . Tre life of the poet 735 DCT, however, iravisz to a esse. Storer after composicg these Ter be was arrested by the hand of disease, and bis iliness terroirateri fata... The deathbed of the higt.y talented man was a painiil spectacle. I had never before ieii," says an eseritress, * as I fe': that evening. There was thegifred Lord Byron-ho had been the object of universal attention, who had even as a sorrth been in toxicated with tte idolatry of men

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Sueh was the termination of the poet's career. Tre world and the giory thereof hai been his; but, unsanctified and unbessed by God, all his rien intellectual en ovments had prosea i sire as tde mirage. From the Wirage of Life,' by the Religious Tract Society.

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I WILL GIVE LIBERALLY." It is a good resolution, foun lei Look, the morning of that day is on good reasous, some of which I getting bright. We can almost see will state, in the hope that others the sun peering above the horizon. may be induced to come to a similar 3. Urmeans either enable me now determination

to gire liberalls. or, by economy and I will give liberally, for the fol. self-denial, may be so increased as to lowing reasons, viz :

enalle me to give liberalls. I will 1. Because the objects for wbich give liberally, so long as I do not I am called upon to give are great resort to economy and self-denial ; and noble. It is the cause of letters and if I do resort to them, that will and religion, of man and God, for enable me to give liberally. which my donations are wanted. I will give liberalls, because I The interests of time and eternity have received liberalls. God has both are involved in it. Now, it is given liberally. He has not only a shame to give calculatingly and filled my cup, but made it run over. sparingly to such a cause, and for He has given me “good measure, such objects. If one gives at all, pressed down, and shaken together, he should give liberally. Nothing and running over." I will imitate can justify a person's putting in only him in my gifts to others, and eztwo mites, but its being all his pecially in my donations to his living.

cause 2. Liberal donations are needed. 5. I am liberal in my expenditures, The cause not only deserres them, but and therefore I will be in my dona. requires them. It takes a great deal tions. Why should I spend much to keep the present operations a and give little? It is not because going; and we must every year ex spending is more blessed No, it is tend the works. Do you know that giving that is said to be more blessed, we have the world to go over, and The conduct of a man whose exthe millennium is approaching? penditures are large and his dona

tions small, is literally monstrous. I will not act so out of all proportion. If I must retrench, I will retrench from my expenditures, and not from my benefactions. .6. The time for giving is short; and therefore I will give liberally while I have the opportunity of giving at all. Soon I shall be com pelled to have done giving.

7. A blessing is promised to liberal giving, and I want it. The liberal soul shall be made fat. Therefore I will be liberal. “And he that watereth, shall be watered himself.” Then I will water. " There is that scattereth and yet increaseth.” Therefore I will scatter, and not sparingly, but bountifully, for "he which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; and he which soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully."

8. I will give liberally, because it is not a clear gift, it is a loan. “He that has pity upon the poor lendeth to the Lord;" lendeth to the best of paymasters, on the best security, and at the highest rate of interest; for he renders double, aye, a hundredfold in this life, to say nothing of the life to come. I will lend him liberally.

9. I will give liberally, because the times are hard where the Gospel is not.

10. I will give liberally, because there are many who would but cannot; and many that cau but will not. It is so much the more necessary, therefore, that they should who are both able and inclined. I used to say, “ I will not give liberally, because others do not. There is a richer man than I am, who does not give so much as I do." But now, from the same premises, I draw the opposite conclusion. Because others do not give liberally, I will.

11, I have sometimes tried giving

liberally, and I do not believe I have ever lost anything by it. I have seen others try it, and they did not seem to lose anything by it, and, on the whole, I think a man is in no great danger of losing who puts liberally into the treasury of the Lord and possessor of all things, and the giver of every good and perfect gift.

12. And finally, when I ask myself if I shall ever be sorry for giving liberally, I hear from within a prompt and most decided negative, * No, never."

Wherefore I conclude that I will give liberally. It is a good resolution, I am certain ; and now I will take care that I do not spoil it all by putting an illiberal construction on liberally. I will understand it as meaning freely, cheerfully, largely, whether the lexicographers say so or not; or, in other words, as meaning what I ought to give and a little more. I will tell you how I will do. An object being presented to me, when I have ascertained what jus. tice requires me to give, I will add something, lest, through insidious selfishness, I may have underrated my ability; and that, if I err, I may be sure to err on the right side. Then I will add a little to my donation out of generosity. And when I have counted out what justice requires, and what generosity of her free will offers, then I will think of Him who, though he was rich, for our sakes became poor, that we, through his poverty, might be rich; and I say not that I will add a little more, but, how can I keep back any thing ? Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demandis my soul, my life, my all.


How to Grow Rich.--"Nothing is more easy," says Mr. Paulding, “than to grow rich. It is only to trust nobody-to befriend none-to heap interest upon interest-to destroy all the finer feelings of nature, and be rendered mean, miserable and despised, for some twenty or

thirty years and riches will come as sure as disease, disappointment and miserable death."

The body is the shell of the soul, and dress the husk of that shell ; but the husk often tells what the kernel is.

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A WONDERFUL CONVERSION. THERE was, some years ago, not visitor. His last word, us, startled far from this place, a very gifted the preacher, but he rallied his preacher, who for several years thoughts, and began to explain the preached with great earnestness and plan of salvation to the inquirer, and success the doctrine of the cross; but to exhort him to renent and believe. who, on that very account, was vio. But the latter, as though he bad not lently opposed. One of his oppon. heard one syllable of what the ents, a well-informed person, who preacher said, interrupted him in the bad for a long time absented himself midst of it, and repeated with infrom the church, thought, one Sun- creasing emotion the anxious excladay morning, that he would go and mation, “If it be truth, sir, I behear the gloomy tuan once more, to seech you, what are we to do?" Ter. see whether his preaching might be rified, the preacher staggers back. more tolerable to hin than it had “ We," thinks he, “what means this been heretofore. He went, and that we?" and, endeavouring to stifle his morning the pieacher was speaking in ward uneasiness and embarrass. of the narrow way, which he did not ment, he resumed his exhortations make either narrower or broader tban and advice. Tears came into the the word of God describes it. “A new eyes of the visitor; he smote his creature in Christ, or eternal con hands together like one in despair, demnation," was the theme of his and exclaimed in an aceent which discourse; and he spoke with power, might have moved a heart of stone, and not as a mere learned reasoner. "Sir, if it be truth, we are lost and During the serion, the question undone!" The preacher stood pale, forced itself upon his hearer's con- trembling, and speechless. Then, science. “How is it with myself? overwhelmed with astonishment, Does this man declare the real truth? with downcast eyes and convnlsive If he does, what must inevitably fol. sobbings he exclaimed, “ Friend, low from it ?" This thought took down on your knees, let us pray and such a hold upon him, that he could cry for mercy!" They knelt down, not get rid of it amidst any of his and praved; and shortly afterwards engagements or amusements. But the visitor took bis leave. The it became from day to day more preacher shut himself up in his closet. and more troublesome, more and Next Sunday, word was sent that more penetrating, and threatened to the minister was unwell, and could embitter every joy of bis life; so not appear. The same thing hapthat at last he thought he would go pened the Sunday following. On the to the preacher himself, and ask him, third Sunday the preacher made his upon his conscience, if he were con- appearance before his congregation, vinced of the truth of that which he worn with his inward conflict, and had lately preached. He fulfilled pale, but his eyes beaming with joy, his intention and went to the and commenced his discourse with preacher. " Sir," said he to him, the surprising and affecting declarawith great earnestness, “I was one tion, that he had now, for the first of your hearers when you spoke, a time, passed through the strait gate. short time since, of the only way of You will ask what had occurred to salvation. I confess to you that you him in his chamber, during the inhave disturbed my peace of mind, terval which had elapsed. A storm and I cannot refrain from asking you passed over before him—but the solemnly before God, and upon your Lord was not in the storm ; an earthconscience, if you can prove what you quake-but the Lord was not in the asserted, or whether it was un earthquake; a fire--but the Lord founded alarm ?" The preacher, not was not in the fire. Then came a a little surprised at this address, re. still small voice; on which the man plied with convincing certainty, that enveloped bis face in his mantle, and he had spoken the word of God, and from that time knew what was the consequently infallible truth, "What Gospel and what was grace.---Krumthen, isto become of us ?" replied the macher.

SHORT METHOD WITH ARIANS. DR. CLARKE, the Arian, met with of the ambiguity before any answer a powerful opponent in one Dr. Ha- to it was given; but desired that warden. By desire of Queen Caro. when the answer was given, it should line, the consort of George I., a con. be expressed by the affirmative or ference was held by them in the pre negative monosyllable." To this sence of her Majesty, the celebrated proposition Dr. Clarke assented. Dr. Courayer, and others. When « Then,” said Dr Hawarden, “ I ask, they met, Dr. Clarke, at some length, can God the Father annihilate the in very guarded terms, and with ap. Son and the Holy Ghost? Answer parent perspicuity, exposed his sys- ne, Yes, or No." Dr. Clarke conti. tem. After he had finished, a pause nued for some time in deep thought, of some length ensued. Dr. Ha- and then said, “It was a question warden then said, “ that he had which he had never considered." listened with the greatest attention This certainly was a searching questo what had been advanced by Dr. tion; and the reader will readily perClarke; that he believed he appre ceive its bearings. If Dr. Clarke hended rightly the whole of his sys- answered, Yes, he admitted the Son tem; and that the only reply he and the Holy Ghost to be mere creashould make to it was asking & tures ; if he answered, No, he adsingle question; that if the question mitted them to be, what they really should be thought to contain any are, absolutely God. ambiguity, he wished it to be cleared

WORK IN YOUR OWN SPHERE.Every Christian occupies the centre of a circle in which no other person can stand or act with so much advantage as himself. He is placed in that relation to the minds of those around him, to exert the most beneficial and powerful influence. If those peculiarly within his reach are suffered to go uninstructed, unwarned, and uninvited to the banquet of mercy, their blood will be upon his own head. It may be found at the great day that while he has been sighing for a more extensive sphere of usefulness, the few souls imme. diately demanding his attention have perished through his neglect. To fulfil this comparatively private trust may require more patience, zeal, and love, than to address listening thou sands, or to traverse tho ocean fifty times. He is to be instant in season and out of season, watching for favourable opportunities, and looking continually to the Father of Lights for wisdom and grace, that his testimony may not be given in vain. Not that the least in the kingdom of hea ven should be isolated in his efforts, or that his sympathies should be contractod. Besides this personal care, we share the general responsi bilities of the Christian Church. That may be accomplished by the com

bined exertions of many, which
would be utterly and for ever imprac-
ticable to individual effort. We are
summoned to the help of the Lord
against the mighty; and the cry of
millions ready to perish is addressed
to us. No talent is to be concealed,
and no sacrifice is to be withheld.--
The Hebrew Martyrs," by the Rev.
John Waddington.

- Why should the true believer in
Christ tremble at the thought of lay.
ing aside his weak, sinful, mortal
body? You will receive it again : not
such as it now is, frail and perish-
able, but bright with the glory, and
perfect with the image of God. The
body is that to the soul which a gar.
ment is to the body. When you be-
take yourself to repose at night, you
lay aside your clothes till morning,
and resume them when you rise.
What is the grave but the believer's
wardrobe, of which God is the door-
keeper? In the resurrection morn,
the door will be thrown open, and
the glorified soul shall descend from
heaven to put on a glorified robe,
whicb was, indeed, folded up and laid
away in dishonour, but shall be taken
out from the repository, enriched and
beautified with all the ornaments of
nature and of grace.

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