Content is wealth, the riches of the mind,
And happy he who can that treasure find.
But the base miser starves amid his store,
Broods o'er his gold and griping still for more,
Sits sadly pining, and believes he's poor,

"THE poor ye have always with you," said our Lord, and it appears that there have been, in all ages and in almost all countries, a great number of poor persons. Thousands in our land are poor, and many of these are miserable and wretched. This is a sad state to be in, and we should pity and help, as far as we can, those who are

wanting, especially in the cold winter season, the necessaries and comforts of life.

But there are some strange beings, both men and women too, who, though with plenty of money to make them comfortable, make themselves miserable on purpose. These strange beings are called "misers." And it is a right name, for more miser-able creatures can scarcely be found in the whole world.

Almost every country has produced its misers or money-lovers. In England, John Elwes, and Daniel Dancer are the most celebrated. The former was a member of Parliament. They both were very rich, and yet they lived and they died as if they had been the poorest of men. Some queer tales are told of the tricks they played to get money and keep it. But they are not worth repeating; and we only refer to them in this brief manner to point out to our young friends the folly and wickedness of such disgraceful conduct.

Foolish and wicked it certainly is. Foolish: for of what use is it? If money is not to be used to make ourselves or others comfortable, we had as well be without it. Wicked: for God gives his bounties to us that we may give them to others, and not hoard them up. He who acts thus, is a

wicked and slothful servant, and God will judge him in the last day.

And will he not deserve it, and a severe judgment too, who having the means of making many of his fellow-creatures happy, who might satisfy the hunger of children crying for bread, and make the heart of the poor widow rejoice-is still griping and grasping all he can, and if he gives a crust or a crumb to any creature in existence, it may be to some old cat, as in the picture, which he keeps in the house with him as his only and solitary companion?

Well: so the old miser may live, but years pass over him as they do over other people, and death comes at last to separate him and his gold, and down to the cold grave he passes, unloved, unwept, unhonoured.

Here the lank-sided miser, worst of felons,
Who meanly stole (discreditable shift)
From back and belly too, their proper cheer,
Eas'd of a task it irk'd the wretch to pay
To his own carcase, now lies cheaply lodged,
By clam'rous appetites no longer teaz'd,
Nor tedious bills of charges and repairs.
But ah! where are his rents, his comings-in ?
Ay! now you've made the rich man poor indeed.
Robb'd of his gods, what has he left behind ?
Oh, cursed lust, of gold! when for thy sake,

The fool throws up his interest in both worlds; First starv'd in this, then damn'd in that to come. Young Reader! avoid covetousness, it is a curse for earth, and a bar to prevent entrance into heaven-for no covetous man, who is an idolater, shall have any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.

THE BENEVOLENT.

WHAT a contrast to the wretched miser, is the benevolent man-especially the Christian, who proves himself to be one, by his imitation of HIM "who went about doing good." We now only mention two-JOHN HOWARD, who visited the prisons, not only of this, but of other nations, that he might relieve their suffering inmates !-RICHARD REYNOLDS, who, instead of hoarding his riches, spread them wide abroad, filling thousands of hearts with joy and gladness! He gave away many thousands of pounds silently, and often secretly-his right hand not knowing what his left did. One day, when a person thanked him warmly, the good man replied, "We do not thank the clouds for rain; thank Him who giveth the clouds!" Thus shewing that he only considered himself to be a steward for God. Happy would it be if all who have this world's goods acted as he did!

GOD, THE FATHER OF ALL.

GOD gave to Afric's sons

A brow of sable dye,

And spread the country of their birth Beneath a burning sky;

And with a cheek of olive made

The little Hindoo child,
And darkly stain'd the forest tribe
That roam the western wild.

To me he gave a form

Of fairer, whiter clay;

But am I, therefore, in his sight

Respected more than they?

No; 'tis the hue of deeds and thoughts He traces in his book:

'Tis the complexion of the heart

On which he deigns to look.

Not by the tinted cheek,

That fades away so fast,

But by the colour of the soul

We shall be judged at last:
And God, the Judge, will look at me
With anger in his eyes,
If I my sister's darker brow

Should ever dare despise.