and the richest of them do still piece it out with some further expectation, something they look for beyond what they have; and the expectation of that pleases them more than all their present possessions. But this great disadvantage they have,-all their hopes are but heaps of delusions and lies, and either they die and obtain them not, or if they obtain them, yet they obtain them not, they are so far short short of what they fancied and imagined beforehand. But the hope of the children of God, as it is without fail, and sure, so it is inconceivably full and satisfying, far beyond what the largest apprehension of any man is able to reach. Hope in God! what is wanting here? ACTIVITY. Activity is one of those virtues indispensably requisite for the happiness and welfare of mankind; and yet all men seem naturally averse, not only to those exertions which sharpen and improve the mental powers, but even such as are necessary for maintaining the health, or strengthening the organs of the body. To conquer that indolence, and to guard against the prostitution of time in trifling pursuits and licentious pleasures, the surest remedy, and in the end the most delightful, can only be found in unremitting study, or in the labours of a profession. Of all who have risen to eminence in the paths of literature or ambition, how few are there who first enjoyed the means of pleasure or the liberty of being idle. WHAT A CHRISTIAN WOULD BE.-A Christian has noble aims, which distinguish him from the bulk of mankind. His leading principles, motives, and desires, are all supernatural and divine. Could he do as he would, there is not a spirit before the throne should excel him in holiness, love, and obedience. He would tread in the very footsteps of his Saviour, fill up every moment in his service, and employ every breath to his praise. This he would do, but, alas! he cannot. Against this desire of the spirit, there is a contrary desire and working of a corrupt nature, which meets him at every turn. He has a beautiful copy set before him; he is enamoured with it, and though he does not expect to equal it, he writes carefully after it, and longs to attain to the nearest possible imitation. But indwelling sin and Satan continually jog his hand, and spoil his strokes. POETRY. AS THOU WILT!—WHAT THOU WILT!-WHEN THOU WILT!" Thomas a Kempis. As Thou wilt, my heavenly Father, What Thou wilt," my gracious Saviour, "When Thou wilt," O, my Redeemer, I will stay my heart on thee: Louisa Lane Clarke. THE COTTAGE MAGAZINE; OR, Plain Christian's Library. THE BEREAVED PARENT. By Richard Huie, M. D. I was sitting alone in my little parlour, contemplating the rays of the setting sun, as they streamed through the foliage of beautiful laburnum, and fell in flickering splendour on the opposite wall. I thought of the period when that bright orb would be quenched for ever-when this earth, with all its loveliness, would pass away, and the visible firmament depart like a scroll. My spirit then soared on the wings of joyful anticipation to those regions of uncreated light and ineffable brilliancy, where there shall be no need of the sun or of the moon, to shed their feeble radiance, but where the glory of a present Deity shall pervade the bright expanse. Memory recalled to my mind's eye the images of many, who had outstripped me in the race of life, and already gone to their reward; and I could not help pitying the narrow conceptions of those, who imagine that, in a world of unmingled pleasure and fulness of joy, we shall not be able to recognise the friends whom we valued and loved in this scene of our mortal pilgrimage. At that moment my servant entered with a letter. It was sealed with black, and the hand-writing on the back was unknown to me. I opened it, therefore, with some JULY, 1845. W VOL. XXXIV. would do, but, alas! he cannot. Against this desire of the spirit, there is a contrary desire and working of a corrupt nature, which meets him at every turn. He has a beautiful copy set before him; he is enamoured with it, and though he does not expect to equal it, he writes carefully after it, and longs to attain to the nearest possible imitation. But indwelling sin and Satan continually jog his hand, and spoil his strokes. POETRY. "AS THOU WILT!—WHAT THOU WILT! -WHEN THOU WILT!" As Thou wilt, my heavenly Father, What Thou wilt," my gracious Saviour, "When Thou wilt," O, my Redeemer, In the hour of deepest sadness, I will stay my heart on thee: When Thou wilt, and when most needed, Joy and peace will come to me. Louisa Lane Clarke. THE COTTAGE MAGAZINE; OR, Plain Christian's Library. THE BEREAVED PARENT. By Richard Huie, M. D. I was sitting alone in my little parlour, contemplating the rays of the setting sun, as they streamed through the foliage of beautiful laburnum, and fell in flickering splendour on the opposite wall. I thought of the period when that bright orb would be quenched for ever-when this earth, with all its loveliness, would pass away, and the visible firmament depart like a scroll. My spirit then soared on the wings of joyful anticipation to those regions of uncreated light and ineffable brilliancy, where there shall be no need of the sun or of the moon, to shed their feeble radiance, but where the glory of a present Deity shall pervade the bright expanse. Memory recalled to my mind's eye the images of many, who had outstripped me in the race of life, and already gone to their reward; and I could not help pitying the narrow conceptions of those, who imagine that, in a world of unmingled pleasure and fulness of joy, we shall not be able to recognise the friends whom we valued and loved in this scene of our mortal pilgrimage." At that moment my servant entered with a letter. It was sealed with black, and the hand-writing on the back was unknown to me. I opened it, therefore, with some JULY, 1845. W VOL. XXXIV. |