His are which are "unspeakable," 1 Pet. i, 8. pleasures which no man can take from him. They abide with him in adversity as well as in prosperity, in sickness as well as in health, in death as well as in life, through eternity as well as through time. I entreat you to seek after these imperishable enjoyments. ་ The excellent Matthew Henry, when he was dying, grasped the hand of a friend, and said to him, “You, sir, have been accustomed to notice the sayings of dying men: this is mine :-That a life spent in the service of God, and in communion with him, is the pleasantest life in the world." May this, my dear young friend, be your happy experience. CHAPTER XI. PERUSE GOOD BOOKS. It will be your wisdom, my dear young friend, to have some useful book at hand, with which you may profitably employ your leisure hours. This will save you from many a dangerous temptation. Yet, recollect, there is a time proper for all things. The hours of business will not be yours, but your master's, and you have no right to appropriate these, without his permission, to your own gratification. Yet, in the fine seasons of the year, you may often gain an hour or two, as I hope you will, for your improvement, by rising early in the morning. In the long winter evenings you will also find some time for the same important object. Be care ful, however, that all the books you read, are such as will assuredly inform your judgment, and do you real good. Bad books are as much to be avoided as bad company. Be on your watch against them. You may as well take a little poison every day as read them. A young man, who is now a decidedly religious character, when giving an account of his early life, said, "In the family in which I was apprenticed, there were several young persons, who spent their leisure, hours in reading novels, romances, and other pernicious books. These I had been taught to avoid and abhor as highly injurious; but my abhorrence of them soon subsided; and I had not been in this family long, before I was induced, by the example and entreaties of my young companions, occasionally to look into the books they had read. I then began to persuade myself that they were not so foolish and pernicious as I had imagined; and I determined to read a few of the best and most moral of their novels. I was so much pleased with these that I soon proceeded to read others of a worse tendency; till, at last, I read all books of this kind which came within my reach. Indeed, my heart was so much set on reading them, that I neglected my master's business to peruse them; my Bible was almost entirely overlooked, and prayer either wholly omitted, or performed in a manner which must have been highly offensive to God. On the other hand, I was frequently engaged half the night, or more, in reading those books, which had nearly brought on the ruin of my soul. I ran into sin. My mind was polluted, and my conscience hard and callous. Yet, true happiness was a stranger to my bosom. my conscience, stupified as it was, would often condemn me, and fill me with the keenest remorse." If you regard your welfare here or hereafter, my dear young friend, let me entreat you, no more to give your leisure hours to a bad book, than you would to a wicked companion. A numerous list of books you will find in the publications of the [Methodist] Sunday School Union: these will furnish you much instructive and profitable reading. Beside these there are many other highly important books, which, while they will furnish you delightful recreation, will improve your taste and exalt your principles. The lives of holy men, and their writings, constitute a great treasure to him who sets his face heavenward. CHAPTER XII. BE KIND AND AMIABLE TO ALL WHO ARE IT has been said, and with some propriety, that temper is every thing. It certainly is very much, in reference to our comfort and useful. ness. He who is sullen or surly, is a plague to every one around him, and a greater plague to himself. With a little pains, some things which trouble us may be remedied; and, if they cannot be altered, fretting, and anger, and bad temper, will only make them worse. A cheerful, amiable temper, will bring us, and pleasantly too, through many difficulties, which at first may seem not a little formidable. True religion enforces on us not only "whatsoever things are just and true, but also those "which are lovely, and of good report." Our Lord has bid us learn of him, because he is "meek and lowly of heart :" and we shall do well to do so. How can we reasonably expect that others should be kind toward us, unless we are so toward them? An amiable temper peculiarly adorns "the doctrine of God our Saviour." You will never be respected or loved, unless you are kind in your deportment. Utter not a word which will give pain to any one around you. Be on your watch to do any thing which is right, that will gratify or oblige any of your friends or associates. If you look after them, you will readily find many opportunities of conferring favours, which will really cost you nothing; and which, in some instances at least, will often produce corresponding returns, which will be greatly conducive to your comfort. Never take offence where none was intended; and easily pass over and forgive an injury, knowing how much you need to be forgiven. Say, with the poet Cowper, "A moral, sensible, and well-bred man Will not offend me,—and no other can." CHAPTER XIII. FLEE FROM INTEMPERANCE. BE on your guard against the least approach to intemperance. It is an inlet to every vice that can be named. It has slain its thousands and its tens of thousands. By this hateful sin, the bounties of Providence are wasted, the passions are inflamed, the conscience is stupified, the body and mind are injured, and the character lost. In this respect, the very brutes may shame man who is their lord; they never take more than enough to satisfy their wants. The anecdote told of Cyrus, on this subject, is very instructive. When he presented the cup of wine to his grandfather Astyages, without tasting it, which the cup bearer was accustomed to do, the king asked him if he had forgotten to do so. "No, sir," replied Cyrus: “but I was afraid there might be poison in it; for I have observed that the lords of your court, after drinking, become noisy, quarrelsome, and frantic; and that even you, sir, seem not to know that you are a king." "Does not the same thing," answered Astyages, "happen to your father?" "Never," said Cyrus. "How was it then?" inquired the monarch. Why, when he has taken what wine he chooses, he is no longer thirsty,-that is all!" 66 This hateful and destructive vice is generally contracted by little and little. The most confirmed drunkard thus acquired his detestable |