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at her girdle, but the purse at thine, so shalt thou know what thou dost spend, and how she can spare.

Break nothing of thy stock, for as the Stone Thyrrenus [Thirrennius] being whole, swimmeth, but never so little diminished, sinketh to the bottom: so a man having his stock full, is ever afloat, but wasting of his store, becometh bankrupt.

Entertain such men as shall be trusty, for if thou keep a Wolf within thy doors to do mischief, or a Fox to work craft and subtilty, thou shalt find it as perilous, as if in thy barns thou shouldst maintain Mice, or in thy grounds Moles.

Let thy Maidens be such as shall seem readier to take pains than follow pleasure, willinger to dress up their house, than their heads, not so fine fingered, to call for a Lute, when they should use the distaff, nor so dainty mouthed, that their silken throats should swallow no pack thread.

For thy diet be not sumptuous, nor yet simple: For thy attire not costly, nor yet clownish, but cutting thy coat by thy cloth, go no farther than shall become thy estate, lest thou be thought proud, and so envied, nor debase not thy birth, lest thou be deemed poor, and so pitied.

Now thou art come to that honorable estate, forget all thy former follies, and debate with thyself, that heretofore thou didst but go about the world, and that now, thou art come into it, that Love did once make thee to follow riot, that it must now enforce thee to pursue thrift, that then there was no pleasure to be compared to the courting of Ladies, that now there can be no delight greater than to have a wife.

Commend me humbly to that noble man, Surius, and to his good Lady Camilla.

Let my duty to the Lady Flavia be remembered, and to thy Violet, let nothing that may be added, be forgotten.

Thou wouldst have me come again into England; I would but I cannot: But if thou desire to see Euphues, when thou art willing to visit thine uncle, I will meet thee; in the mean season, know, that it is as far from Athens to England, as from England to Athens.

Thou sayest I am much wished for, that many fair promises are made to me: Truly Philautus, I know that a friend in the court is better than a penny in the purse, but yet I have heard that such a friend cannot be gotten in the court without pence.

Fair words fat few, great promises without performance, delight for the time, but yearke ever after.

I cannot but thank Surius, who wisheth me well, and all those that at my being in England liked me well. And so with my hearty commendations until I hear from thee, I bid thee farewell.

Thine to use, if marriage
change not manners,
Euphues.

This letter dispatched, Euphues gave himself to solitariness, determining to sojourn in some uncouth place, until time might turn white salt into fine sugar; for surely he was both tormented in body and grieved in mind.

And so I leave him, neither in Athens nor elsewhere that I know: But this order he left with his friends, that if any news came or letters, that they should direct them to the Mount of Silixfedra, where I leave him, either to his musings or Muses.

Gentlemen, Euphues is musing in the bottom of the Mountain Silixfedra Philautus [is] married in the Isle of England: two friends parted, the one living in the delights of his new wife, the other in contemplation of his old griefs.

What Philautus doeth, they can imagine that are newly married; how Euphues liveth, they may guess that are cruelly martyred: I commit them both to stand to their own bargains, for if I should meddle any farther with the marriage of Philautus, it might haply make him jealous, if with the melancholy of Euphues, it might cause him to be coleric: so the one would take occasion to rub his head, fit his hat never so close, and the other offense, to gall his heart, be his case never so quiet. I, Gentlewomen, am indifferent, for it may be, that Philautus would not have his life known which he leadeth in marriage, nor Euphues, his love decried, which he beginneth in solitariness, lest either the one being too kind, might be thought to dote, or the other too constant, might be judged to be mad. But were the truth known, I am sure, Gentlewomen, it would be a hard question among Ladies, whether Philautus were a better wooer, or a husband, whether Euphues were a better lover, or a scholar. But let the one mark the other, I leave them both, to confer at their next meeting, and commit you to the Almighty.

7369

HENRY FRANCIS LYTE.

HENRY FRANCIS LYTE, a British clergyman and poet, born at Kelso, Scotland, June 1, 1793; died at Nice, France, Nov. 20, 1847. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin. He took orders, held curacies in Ireland, and eventually became rector of Brixton, England. He published several volumes of poetry, mostly of a devotional character. Lyte's first work was "Tales in Verse Illustrative of Several of the Petitions of the Lord's Prayer." In 1834 he published "The Spirit of the Psalms," a collection of hymns and psalms, drawn from various sources, but mainly his own. Among the best known of his hymns are "Abide With Me;" "Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken;" "Praise, my Soul, the King of Heaven;" and "Pleasant Are Thy Courts Above." His hymn "Abide With Me" was written at Nice, not long before his death.

EVENING.

SWEET Evening hour! sweet Evening hour!
That calms the air and shuts the flower;

That brings the wild bird to her nest,

The infant to its mother's breast.

Sweet hour! that bids the laborer cease,

That gives the weary team release,

That leads them home, and crowns them there

With rest and shelter, food and care.

Oh, season of soft sounds and hues,
Of twilight walks among the dews,
Of feelings calm and converse sweet,
And thoughts too shadowy to repeat!
Yes, lovely hour! thou art the time.
When feelings flow, and wishes climb;
When timid souls begin to dare,
And God receives and answers prayer.
Then, as the earth recedes from sight,
Heaven seems to ope her fields of light,

And call the fettered soul above
From sin and grief, to peace and love.

Who has not felt that Evening's hour
Draws forth devotion's tenderest power;
That guardian spirits round us stand,
And God himself seems most at hand?
Sweet hour! for heavenly musing made,
When Isaac walked, and David prayed;
When Abram's offering God did own,
And Jesus loved to be alone!

"ABIDE WITH ME!"

ABIDE with me! fast falls the even-tide!
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide!
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;

O Thou, who changest not, abide with me!

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word;
But as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord.
Familiar, condescending, patient, free,
Come, not to sojourn, but abide with me!

Come not in terror, as the King of kings!

But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings;
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea;
Come, Friend of sinners, thus abide with me!

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile;
And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee.
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me!

I need Thy presence every passing hour;

What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, oh, abide with me!

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is Death's sting? where, Grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thon abide with me!

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