Simple pleasures are far more likely to ensure contentment than those of a riotous or artificial nature: the excitement produced by the latter is usually followed by a collapse, and the mind is left in a state far from content; while the gentle stimulus produced by the enjoyment of nature, or the performance of duty, yields tranquillity and delight. Nothing tends more to discontent than idleness. The man of business is often contented till he retires from active duty, to enjoy, as he hopes, his ease and leisure. Alas! no sooner is the transition effected, than he begins to pine for employment; the force of early habit is not easily broken; he sighs for his old place behind the counter, and envies his youthful successor the pleasure he must experience from active efforts to arrive at the independence which he himself has already obtained, but which, by depriving him of employment, has failed to yield the expected satisfaction.

Happy they who, having the valuable trust of time at their disposal, while some flee to the gaming table, some to the vortex of dissipation, and some sink into despicable triflers, who kill that time for which they must account, attain contentment by the judicious arrangement and discharge of the various binding duties which belong to the man of leisure!

W is a fine example of a Christian, who has fortune and time at his command; he is never seen in a discontented humour. The cultivation of his mind, (for he is a man of taste and letters,) the welfare of all around him, and the important concerns of the world to come, leave little vacant time to be spent in those complainings, so common from the lips of the rich idler.

We must not allow ourselves to be deceived by fancying that apathy is contentment: if we feel no lively desire to emulate the great and good, if we feel no self-condemnation for lost time and opportunity, we are indolent, not contented.

If a just estimate of ourselves and those around us, which will lead us to "think soberly;" if correct conduct, simple pleasures, and active employment, promote a contented state of mind, how much more does the cheering faith of the Christian enable him to say, "I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." The blessings

of the gospel cheer the toilsome hours of the labouring man, and make_him contented with his humble lot. They cause the Christian, who moves in the middle ranks of society, to say with Agur, "Give me neither poverty nor riches, feed me with food convenient for me," Prov. xxx. 8. While to the rich man who trusts not in uncertain riches, but in the living God, they open stores of wealth, which neither moth nor rust can corrupt, and into which thieves cannot break and steal. Reader, let these hints, while they point to some of the minor sources of content, lead you to the fountain head of happiness.

GENTLE REPROOFS.-No. IV.

THE RIDE TO GREENWICH.

As the greater part of the unkind acts done by young people, proceed more from thoughtlessness than from ill nature, there is the greater reason why they should become the subject of remark. An upright mind may repeat a fault again and again, which if once pointed out with kindness it would instantly renounce.

It was on a rainy day that I entered a Greenwich omnibus. The streets of London were very dirty, and the people that were hastening along on foot over London Bridge, some for the Borough and some for the City, were sadly splashed and bespotted. Glad was I to get under cover, and at the same time to proceed onwards in my journey.

At the upper end of the omnibus sat two young men very fashionably dressed: that they had walked some distance, their boots and trowsers bore evident testimony. Influenced, no doubt, by that love of ease and manifestation of independence which many young men have pleasure in assuming, they reclined at their ease, with folded arms, and with their feet tossed up on the opposite

seats.

If I know myself, I am not given to look with an eye of severity on the failings of young people; but I did think, to say the least of it, that the act of flinging up their dirty boots on the cushions appropriated for the seats of their fellow passengers was thoughtless in the extreme. At one moment, I felt inclined to speak to them on the subject, and in the next, being unwilling to render myself unpleasant to any one, abandoned my design. While

the omnibus rumbled on, I reasoned the matter over with myself.

Why should I take upon myself," thought I, "to do that for which no one will thank me; and for which, most likely, I shall draw down on myself the ill-will, and perhaps the resentment of my fellow travellers? The dirty cushion will do me no injury." "But then again," thought I, "is it not mean and cowardly in one of my years to refrain from doing an act of duty and kindness to others, through the fear of giving umbrage to two young men ? If faults are not pointed out, is it likely that they will be amended? And, if one who has grey hairs on his head cannot meekly rebuke an error, who is likely to take on himself the unwelcome office of a reprover ?" In a word, I resolved to address my companions.

The omnibus stopped, and some of the passengers, nearest the door, alighted; but when the two young men were about to pass me, with as pleasant and lively a manner as I could assume, I asked the first if he were blessed with a good temper. "Sir!" said he, in a manner somewhat hasty, and making a pause. "I asked you," said I, "if you were blessed with a good temper; for I want to make a short remark, and would not willingly offend you. Most likely you have a mother and sisters too, and will therefore understand me. Should a well-dressed lady enter this omnibus, and seat herself on that dirty cushion, where your boots have been so long placed, you will unintentionally have done her an injury, which, I am quite inclined to believe, you would regret."

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An expression of displeasure rose in his face, and an apparent inclination to reply proudly, was visible; but this I hastened to prevent, laying my hand gently on his arm. 'Sir,' said I, bear with me, I am older than you; I felt that I had a right to point out an inadvertent error, and I hope that I have not done it unkindly."

SUNDAY AMONG THE HILLS.

In a retired part of the country, one Sunday morning, in my way to church, I entered a quiet secluded valley. There were high bold hills rising on one side, in some places covered from the base to the summit with thick woods; in others, lovely spots of green meadow broke out from among trees. The

other side of the valley was flanked with a ledge of sharp rugged rocks that sprang up almost perpendicularly, and to a considerable height from the very margin of a river, which was chafing and foaming in the rugged and very narrow channel that the hills and the rocks had left for it.

I had left home on troublesome and perplexing business. Already I had been some days away, and it had sped slowly, and by no means to my satisfaction. The prosecution of it also was attended with difficulties, and its whole nature was very uncongenial to the ordinary bent of my mind and pursuits; so that when I arose in the morning, I sighed after my own home, and my own dear family. I could not disengage my mind from the dreary subject that had occupied me during the past week, and must occupy me again in the coming week, and the thoughts of my heart troubled me. I set out in a gloomy state of mind to church, down a little path that led along the side of the river. It was a lovely morning, the bright sunshine was glancing through the thick foliage of the fine old trees that overshadowed my path, and the summer breeze whispered softly in the branches, and harmonized pleasantly with the gentle murmuring of the river; but my heart was out of tune, and I tried in vain to enjoy the beauties which the Lord of heaven and earth had so abundantly spread around me. I felt them not, or

"If ought I felt, 'twas only pain

To find I could not feel.'

But the path became steep and rugged as I proceeded; for the hills that flank the valley approach each other so closely at this point, that it becomes a mere gorge, and the river pent up by huge dashes and writhes in fearful agony from masses of rock, a perfect torrent. It rock to rock, now precipitating its waters on one side, and now on the other of the intricate channel, through which it has it arrives at the brink of the precipice, to toil on its painful course, so that when it plunges at one sheer leap into a gloomy pool, where its waters are boiling and maddening with a roar which re-bellows from the high beetling cliffs that overshadow it. I stood for a moment clinging to the slippery rock, down which the path descended, to gaze upon this wild scene. "Ah!" thought I, "it is thus with me. I have been struggling from difficulty to difficulty, all my mental powers stretched to the utmost; but as one is with much

pain and trouble surmounted, another | arises; I have sorrow upon sorrow, and all will end with a plunge into the dreary chasm of disappointment." I was overwhelmed with these melancholy thoughts, and strove in vain to cast my care upon Him that careth for me; for I was suffering that destitution of spiritual peace and comfort, which is often permitted to accompany our earthly troubles. I writhed and tossed beneath the inflictions wherewith my heavenly Father was chastening me, like the stream that was foaming and maddening in the chasm at my feet. I could not turn to him that smote me; for he had hidden his face from me, and I knew not whither to turn me. I went on my slippery way, possessed with this deep feeling of despondency.

At the foot of the fall, the valley turns abruptly round the hill. I followed the path to this point, where a scene of surpassing loveliness burst upon me. The rocks and the hills, still preserving the same character, recede further from each other for the distance of about a mile, when they again close in so as to give the effect of a complete amphitheatre. The river winds tranquilly through green pastures, decked here and there with knots of trees, beneath the shade of which the cattle. were sheltering from the fast increasing heat of the day. The church to which I was going stands close under the rock surrounded by yew trees; its well-tuned peal of bells were already flinging their soft music on the summer gale, and the rocks caught the glad tidings of the sabbath morning, and sent them to the hills, and their sweet sounds were reverberating from rock to rock, and from hill to hill, until the whole valley seemed to be filled with melody. The green fields, the blue sky, the bright sunshine, the rocks and hills that shouted for joy, "they also sang," and the lovely river that now expanded its clear bright waters in glassy pools, with scarcely a ripple upon their surface; to me it was impossible to resist the tranquillizing and gladdening effect of this blessed combination of sights and sounds. I endeavoured by reflection on the events of my past life, and on those portions of the Bible that occurred to me, "to acquaint myself with God, and be at peace;" and many a joyful deliverance in times long past, and many a blessed promise in God's word, arose to my recollection, and brightened upon my soul, until my

complaints became mingled with thanksgivings, and my prayer with praise. It was in this frame of mind that I entered the house of God, and there I heard the only glad tidings which can afford consolation under every trouble. It was the pure gospel, the sinfulness of man, the exceeding love of God, the compassion of Christ. This last was the theme upon which the preacher especially dwelt, "He can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities;" he is able to save his people at any moment; he sympathizes with their sorrows; in all their afflictions he is afflicted; they shall not endure one pang except for their own 'good; their sorrows shall not last one moment longer than they are needful and beneficial for them. Our joys and sorrows are all in his hands, who hath so loved us that he hath died for us: surely we may confide to him the adjustment of the proper measure of each.

I returned by the same path; but God had given me "the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." My thoughts naturally reverted to the same subject, and it suddenly occurred to me as I stood once more at the foot of the fall. Who that only saw the river fretting and fuming in this dreary chasm, would suppose that it would so soon burst forth into light and loveliness again? May it not be so also with the business that now troubles me? I am in the midst of troubles; all my efforts hitherto seem to have been unavailing; but, notwithstanding, my deliverance may be nearer than I imagine.

So the event proved. I was enabled with much earnestness and sincerity to commit my way unto the Lord in prayer, and that frame of mind was mercifully continued to me through the following day. I prosecuted the matter prudently, perseveringly, and prayerfully: the blessing of God brought mighty things to pass, and I was delivered out of my trouble.

God's high purposes regarding us are administered both by his works and his grace; while he sees fit to afflict us, all things are against us; when he wills our deliverance, all things shall aid in its accomplishment. It is indeed blessed, when the grace of his Holy Spirit condescends thus to employ the highest earthly pleasure of which we are capable, the enjoyment of the beauties of nature.

0.

THE Conversion of bishop Latimer is thus described by himself, in his first sermon on the Lord's Prayer: "Master Bilney, (or rather Saint Bilney, that suffered death for God's word sake,) the same Bilney was the instrument whereby God called me to knowledge, for I may thank him, next to God, for that knowledge that I have in the word of God. For I was as obstinate a Papist as any was in England; insomuch, that when I should be made Bachelor of Divinity, my whole oration went against Philip Melancthon, and against his opinions. Bilney heard me at that time, and perceived that I was zealous without knowledge; and he came to me afterwards in my study, and desired me, for God's sake, to hear his confession. I did so: and to say the very truth, by his confession I learned more than before in many years. So, from that time forward, I began to smell the word of God, and forsook the school doctors, and such fooleries."

The fruit of this conversion was soon apparent. The conduct of Bilney and Latimer was not to be misinterpreted by envy, or scandalized by malice. They fed the hungry, relieved the poor, and visited the prisoners. Cambridge, it is said, was full of their kind acts, which were constant topics of conversation. They showed their faith by their works, AUGUST, 1841.

and brought forth "much fruit" to the glory of their heavenly Father.

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On the fall of his patron, lord Cromwell, the king's vicar general, Latimer was sent to the Tower, and, under one pretence or another, was imprisoned for six years. On the change of government, under Edward vI., he was released, with many others, and was sent forth to preach through the kingdom. At Whitehall, there was a pulpit or preaching place, where he and others regularly 'opened God's word," on Sundays and holidays, to the king and the protector, while many of all ranks resorted thither. The following is an extract from his sermon already quoted: "Forgive us our trespasses,' etc. Here we sue for our pardon, and so we acknowledge ourselves to be offenders: for the unguilty needeth no pardon. This pardon, or remission of sins, is so necessary, that no man can be saved without it. Therefore of remission standeth the Christian man's life; for, so saith David, They are blessed of God whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered. He saith not, Blessed be they which have never sinned, for where dwelleth such fellow which never sinned? Marry, no where; they are not to be gotten. be gotten. Here the prophet signifieth, that all we be sinners; so he saith, Whose sins are pardoned. And here we be painted out into our colours, else we

should be proud, and so he saith in the gospel, Forasmuch as ye be evil.' There he giveth us our own title and name, calling us wicked and ill. There is neither man nor woman that can say they have no sin; for we be all sinners. But how can we hide our sins? Certainly the blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ hideth our sins, and washeth them away. And though one man had done all the world's sin since Adam's time, yet he may be redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ; if he believe in him, he shall be cleansed from all his sins. Therefore, all our comfort is in him, in his love and kindness. For St. Peter saith, Charity shall cover the multitude of sins,' so doth indeed the love of our Saviour Jesus Christ. His love towards us, covereth and taketh away all our sin, insomuch that the Almighty God shall not condemn us, nor the devil shall not prevail against us. Our nature is ever to hide sin, and to cloak sin; but this is a wicked hiding, and this hiding will not serve. He seeth our wickedness, and he will punish it, and therefore our hiding cannot serve us. But if you be disposed to hide your sins, I will tell you how you shall hide them. First, acknowledge them, and then believe on your Saviour Christ. Put him in trust withal, and he will pacify his Father, for to that end he came into the world to save sinners; not to go and excuse them, or to make them no sin; no, no, the prophet saith, He is blessed, whose sin is covered. He saith not, Blessed is that man that did never sin; but, Blessed is he to whom sin is not imputed." W.

VISIT TO THE INTERPRETER'S HOUSE. No. I.

CHRISTIAN READER,-Having lately in a dream seen one, who was called to tread the road which our old friend, Christian, the pilgrim, trod so long ago; and having seen, when he was shown at the house of the interpreter, things worthy of notice, I shall lay some of them before thee; praying that a gracious God would open the eyes of the understanding, Eph. i. 18, of thee who readest, and of me who write, that we, receiving the Spirit which is of God, may know those things that are spiritually discerned, 1 Cor. ii. 12-14.

And, first of all, the pilgrim of whom I speak, whose name is called Teachable, was had into a room, where were windows opening different ways. And

the interpreter, taking him by the hand, led him to one of the windows, and bade him look out.

Then

Then said the interpreter to one of his servants, Bring hither the three pieces of gold which were set by. So they were brought. Now, on all of them was the image superscription of Cesar, Matt. xxii. 20; but one of them was much rubbed and very dim, so that indeed the face of Cesar could not be clearly recognised, nor the superscription easily read. said Teachable, "Is that piece sterling?" "There is a counterfeit among them," answered the interpreter; weigh them, and thou shalt know it." Then the servants brought the scales, and the pieces were weighed, and behold, one of those two was found wanting, which were bright and unworn. Then Teachable wondered, and said, But how then shall the king's coin be known? The master of the mint, said the interpreter, hath his own marks, whereby he knoweth the coin which is sterling and that which is counterfeit. And had thy senses by reason of use been exercised to discern both good and evil, Heb. v. 14; and hadst thou now attentively considered the two, thou hadst not so wrongly decided the matter. Now when Teachable diligently examined the two, and compared them together, he found that the imitation was by no means perfect. The letters of the superscription on the counterfeit were not well formed, and some of the words were ill spelled; moreover, the head had more ornament about it, but wanted the majesty and beauty of the true one. I observed also, that there was, by no means, the same comparative prominence of the parts in the two pieces. It is a hypocrite, said the interpreter; yet such will often pass current in the world. But, said Teachable, is it not a scandal to the king, that his coin should be defaced, as the other piece is ? It is, indeed, answered the interpreter, yet is it genuine gold; and if you look at it more closely, you will find the work upon it very different from that upon the counterfeit. came it thus worn and dimmed ? asked Teachable. It has come into contact, answered the interpreter, with many fingers in the world, and those not clean ones. But the master of the mint hath means, and sharp tools, to restore the image and superscription to

How