disclose to any one, lest I should be misinterpreted; many a wish, which I would loudly, and with tears proclaim. Ah! that one might be fulfilled! Thou knowest it; I dare not name it to Thee; but it were supreme felicity.

No! No! what have I said? Am I then wiser than Eternal Wisdom? Can I foresee what will be my source of happiness, when I cannot even tell what may happen on the following day? No; Thou allwise, most loving Father, I express my wishes like an ignorant child. But Thou wilt permit only those to be eventually fulfilled, which Thou knowest will be truly advantageous to me. Into Thy faithful, paternal hand I resign myself and all belonging to me, all that are dear and precious to me. We appertain to Thee. Thou alone, Thou art our GOD! Well, then, my heart, cast far away all fruitless cares and visionary hopes; and await with calm trust the gifts of that benignant Providence who watches over thee, and the objects of thy love.

Fear not too much for the future, and hope not too much from it. Both may be equally injurious, and have too great and destructive an influence on the resolutions and plans you form.

Hope not too much! This it is which leads a man into unpleasant situations: that being too full of confidence, he gives himself up entirely to his

flattering expectations; that he doubts not of any thing-of this or that anticipated good; that he supposes whatever he desires must surely come to pass, because, perhaps, some probability of it may exist. He orders his whole conduct, too hastily, with a view to this. He frames all his projects with reference to this; and suffers himself, when blinded by his hopes, to be misled into foolish undertakings. What the heart wishes, that it naturally hopes. It remembers no longer how often it has been deceived in its expectations.

Hope not too much! For it will put you out of humour, and grievously depress your spirits, if your hopes are not accomplished. You prepare for yourself many bitter moments, which you might have readily avoided. Disappointed hopes always leave a smart behind, which may make us unjust to a brother, or ungrateful to Divine Providence. And whom should we then accuse but ourselves, who indulged in silly reveries, and built unsubstantial castles in the air?

Hope not too much! For this renders you unprepared to meet misfortunes, which may yet possibly befall you. Whoever coaxes his soul with too brilliant promises, relaxes its needful vigour ; he spoils it by too much tenderness, and makes it unfit to endure the storm which may suddenly break in on all sides. The wise man, that is to

say, the CHRISTIAN, prepared for all events, and armed with tranquillity and submission, goes forward into the dark region of futurity, like the soldier towards an unconquered enemy. Directing his eyes to heaven, he receives his lot, whether it be of good or evil, from the hand of the eternal Ruler of the universe, with pious gratitude. Whether the next month weave for him a crown of unexpected joys, or point out to him a coffin, in which a beloved friend shall lie; he awaits either with Christian-like composure.

Hope only for so much of happiness as you may obtain through an upright, virtuous course. Such hope will seldom fail. The virtues which you exercise will ever bring with them their own joys even in the present world. The casting away of your evil habits and prevailing faults, will reunite you to those who now even despise or hate you : the good qualities which you possess,-your friendly disposition, your disinterested desire to be serviceable to others,-your endeavours always to speak as well as possible of every man,-your zeal in all matters entrusted to you,-your abstinence from all disreputable concerns, will create esteem and love in the minds of those who as yet look on you with indifference. For wherein at last consists the durable happiness of man? Even in this: that a man should be at peace with himself,

be satisfied with his own conduct, and acquire the esteem and friendship of the good. Are you not happy? what prevents your being so? Why will you not cast off many failings of which you well know yourself to be guilty; and by which you repel others from you, and deprive yourself of tranquillity of mind-of the peace of God. Why, then, do you hope for happiness from others, when you can frame it better and more durably with your own hands? It would, perhaps, be difficult for you to effect a change in this or that particular-you have not the courage to begin. Now, do not complain any longer-you have not the courage to be happy.

Hope only for so much of reputation and prosperity as you can earn by your own diligence and labour. In all circumstances, count only on yourself and God's blessing; not on the assistance of other men; not on a lucky chance; not on a blind fortune which may heap riches on you, as an unexpected inheritance, or a prize in the lottery. The more a man can rely on himself, and the less dependant he is on other men, and on their favour, so much the greater will he be, so much the more free, so much the more honoured, and so much the more capable of doing good. Why, then, do you so earnestly hope for a high reputation in society, or for the acquisition of dazzling

riches? Is it not for the sake of flattering your vanity? How! shall God work wonders to gratify your secret pride; and for order the destinies of the world?

such a purpose

He who cannot

be happy and contented with that which is to be acquired by his own diligence and cheerful labour, is, in truth, deserving of no greater gifts of fortune.

Hope only for so much enjoyment in the world, as by your own prudence you can prepare for yourself. I always refer you to yourself. You shall be the author of your own happiness: for that purpose, God has furnished you with reason and understanding. Prudently avoid all hazardous undertakings; arrange your household with prudence; choose your friends with prudence; use every opportunity of improving your circumstances with zeal and prudence; behave yourself with prudence towards men of other ways of thinking, and other ranks: so will you certainly spare yourself innumerable wretched hours, and form for yourself, in the sphere of life in which you have been placed, a peaceful paradise, which will afford you far more delight than all your visionary hopes.

Consider time as a vacant field, in which neither happiness nor unhappiness springs of itself. You must first till and cultivate it with your own hand. Whatever you sow in this field, that shall you also