what are called "reasons of state," he could not tell how to satisfy his conscience upon several accounts; and be. ing asked one day by a friend why he was so sad, he answered, "The soul is a serious thing. It must be sad here for a moment, or be sad forever."

Cardinal Mazarin, having made religion wholly subservient to worldly interest, discoursing one day with a Doctor of the Sorbonne, concerning the immortality of the soul, and a future state, said, weeping, "Oh, my poor soul, whither wilt thou go?" Afterwards, seeing the queen mother, he said to her, " Madam, your favors undid me; were I to live my life over again, I would be a Capuchin Friar rather than a courtier."

Sir John Mason, Privy Councillor to King Henry the Eighth, upon his death-bed, addressed himself to the people around him to the following effect: "I have seen the most remarkable things in foreign parts, and been present at most transactions for thirty years together; and have learned this, after so many years' experience, that seriousness is the greatest wisdom; temperance the best physic; and a good conscience the best estate: and, were I to live again, I would change the court for a cloister; my Privy Councillor's bustles for a hermit's retirement, and the whole life I have lived in the palace, for one hours' enjoyment of God in the chapel. All things forsake me but my God, my duty, and my prayers."

Sir Thomas Smith, Secretary of State to Queen Elizabeth, a few months before he died, sent for his friends, the Bishops of Winchester and Worcester, entreating them to draw for him, out of the word of God, the plainest and exactest way of making his peace with him; adding, "It is a great pity that men know not to what end they are born into this world, 'till they are nearly to go out of it."

Sir Philip Sydney left this as his farewell to his friends: "Govern your will and affections by the will and word of the Creator. In me behold the end of the world, and all its vanities."

Dr. Donne, a man of great parts and learning, being upon his death-bed, and taking a solemn leave of his friends, said, "I repent of all my life, but that part of it which I spent in communion with God, and in doing good'

Only a year before his death, to a person who asked, "What is the shortest way to obtain a true knowledge of the christian religion in the full and just extent of it?" John Locke returned this significant answer: "Study the Holy Scripture, especially the New Testament; therein are contained the words of eternal life. It has God for its author; salvation for its end; and truth, without any mixture of error, for its matter."

"At my death," says Sir Thomas Browne, "I mean to take a total adieu of the world, not caring for a monument, history, or epitaph: not so much as the memory of my own name to be found anywhere, but in the universal register of God."

One Minute too Late.

I WAS standing on the deck to witness the departure of the steamboat. Her time had come. Several hundred passengers had already embarked, and others were crowding hastily through the throng to get on board. All was confusion. The wheels and the piston seemed restless with delay; the boat creaked against the wharf as the paddles dipped themselves in the water; the strong hawsers that bound her fore and aft ground on the spiles. The stern voice of the mate summoned "All aboard”"All ashore." Just then a hack drove down; an old gentleman, with locks of many bygone years, alighted, and hastened towards the boat. The crowd made way for the venerable stranger, but in vain; the plank had been drawn in, the fastenings loosed, and boat was off. I shall never forget the look of disappointment which was manifested in his countenance, as he turned away and ordered his baggage returned to the hack. My thoughts were beginning to take a solemn turn, when a friend who was with me, pronounced with emphasis, "One minute too late!" How many there are who are a little behind the time; just one minute too late in all the af fairs of this world! always in a hurry; yet never ready? And how many thousands are a little too late in the grea. work of repentance? They delay and postpone, until the ark of safety has shoved off for the last time. One moment then is as fatal as an age.

The Luxury of Doing Good, and how to enjoy it.

"You know," said an individual in humble life, addressing a circle of christian friends, "that I am poor man. Fifty acres of land is all I have from which to support myself, wife, and six children. For fifteen years after I professed religion, I thought myself perfectly excused in giving nothing to religious objects, and I believe others thought so too, for they never called on me for any thing. I was in debt, could hardly bring the two ends of the year together, my family was poorly provided for, and we were even in the habit of receiving occasional donations from our neighbors. Being, about five years since, at a neighbor's, a lady called to ask assistance for a poor family, who had been burnt out, and lost two children in the fire.

"I was so much affected by what I heard, that to be able to give something for their relief, seemed to me would be an inexpressible gratification. I had in my pocket a piece of silver, of small value-it was all the money I had in the world, but still, ere I was aware, my fingers were upon it, and I involuntarily handed it to the lady. On my way home, I reflected upon myself, thought my family needed this money at that moment, to buy necessaries with, and if they did not, it was the property of my creditors, and I ought not to have given it away. It disturbed my mind so much, that I went and spread the case before God in prayer. While thus engaged, the words of our Savior occurred to my mind-"Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee, turn not thou away." My faith found here a support for itself, and I rejoiced that our Savior did not single out the rich from the poor, as under obligation to observe this precept, but addressed it alike to all. Satisfied that I had done no wrong, I was willing to leave the result with God, and bent my thoughts to see how I could repair my loss, and allow myself the gratification of doing good in this way, on future occasions. I soon discovered, that in the manner both of purchasing and using articles of consumption in my family, I might practice greater economy than I had been accustomed to. By buying every thing on credit, I

had subjected myself to the double loss of giving more for articles, and of paying interest on the money they cost. After all, they must be paid for; and hence, by contriving to pay when I got them, I should make a saving. And it was only by exercising great care and self-denial, the first year, that we succeeded to revolutionize these old habits; but when it was done, it cut off no small item of useless expense. I found, also, that there were several articles of previous consumption, such as a number of gallons of ardent spirits, and as many pounds of tobacco, which we could give up altogether, and yet be better off than we had been with them. I contrived also, with the assistance of my wife, who entered into all my plans, to use what I purchased much more economically than before. Many ways both of increasing the comfort of living, and of doing it at less expense, occurred to us, that we had never thought of, which we reduced to practice, greatly to the improvement of our table and fireside enjoyments. By these means, we effected a very considerable retrenchment of our expenses.

"I then looked over my farm and manner of husbanding it, to see if I could not increase my income. By early rising, and being more strict in training my sons to business, I was able to supersede the necessity of hiring a man, in harvest. I kept up my fences, disburdened my barn yard of a quantity of manure, which had long lain useless, and scattered it over my fields, greatly to the improvement of the soil; was punctual to get my crops in at the proper season, and to harvest them before they were injured. By all these plans which I pursued with diligence the first year, I closed the crevices through which the little fountain of my wealth had been wasted, and at the same time, increased the stream of my income; I liquidated my debts, paid my taxes, supported my family better than before, and had something to give away besides As God had prospered me so far, I felt it my duty to lay myself out still further for his glory, in cultivating my little farm. I therefore set off one tenth of that part, which was productive, about three acres, determined to cultivate it, and devote the proceeds to God. From this, I realized the first year, about one hundred dollars, which I appro propriated to various objects of benevolence, and from the

rest of my farm, I obtained more than ever I did from the whole, in any one year before. Since that time, I have enjoyed the luxury of doing good with my money, my family have been better supported than ever, and blessed be God, all my children have become hopefully pious, one of them is studying for the ministry, and my house has been like the house of Obed-edom, where the ark rested."

Procrastination and Perdition.

In one of my walks about my parish, some years ago, I passed the place where one of my parishioners, who was a stone-cutter, was at work upon a large block of granite. He was about forty-five years of age, a hard working, prosperous man, a warm personal friend, a con-stant attendant on the means of grace; but utterly indifferent, so far as I could judge, about the concerns of his soul. Having so good an opportunity, I determined to speak to him plainly and earnestly upon the subject of religion.

"My friend," said I, "you have a hard subject for your chisel there." "Yes," he replied, "very hard, indeed; 1 don't know that I ever saw a more difficult stone to cut than this." "But," said I, there are harder things than blocks of granite." "I suppose so; and granite grows harder by exposure to the air; I can work a stone much easier, when it is first taken from the quarry." "I refer to the heart," said I. "It is harder than stone; and as you say of granite, it is growing harder every day. Hard as this stone is, you can make it assume any form you please; you can mould it like clay. But God has been many years at work upon you by his word, and spirit, and providences, not a feature of the image of Christ yet appears upon your heart of adamant."

"I know it, I know it," he replied, "but it was not always so. Ten years ago, the Holy Spirit visited my soul, and melted it like wax. You never saw me weep, but I wept then, and I thought the time of my conversion had come. But the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the lust of other things entered in, and