consciousness that truth is ever beneficent and falsehood ever pernicious.

And, indeed, when none but true doctrines shall be universally inculcated,-when they shall have penetrated all hearts,—when they shall animate every order of society,— if they do not arrest all existing evils, they will have, at least, the advantage of arresting a great many. They will be prolific in generous sentiments and virtuous actions; and the world will perceive that truth is, to the body social, a principle of life. But if, on the other hand, error, in matters of capital import, obtain dominion in the minds of men,—especially of those who are called to serve as guides and models,-it will mislead and confound them, and, in corrupting their thoughts, sentiments, and acts, it will become a principle of dissolution and death.

XXXV.-GRADATION.

HEAVEN is not reached at a single bound;
But we build the ladder by which we rise
From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,
And we mount to the summit round by round.

I count this thing to be grandly true:
That a noble deed is a step toward God,
Lifting the soul from the common sod
To a purer air and a broader view.

We rise by things that are under our feet;
By what we have mastered of good and gain,
By the pride deposed and the passion slain,
And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet.

We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust,

When the morning calls us to life and light;
But our hearts grow weary, and ere the night
Our lives are trailing the sordid dust.

We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray,

And we think that we mount the air on wings,
Beyond the recall of sensual things,

While our feet still cling to the heavy clay.

Only in dreams is a ladder thrown

From the weary earth to the sapphire walls; But the dreams depart, and the vision falls, And the sleeper awakes on his pillow of stone.

Heaven is not reached at a single bound;

But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to the summit round by round.

SPURGEON'S ADVICE.

No one is more like an honest man than a thorough rogue.

When you see a man with a great deal of religion displayed in his shop-window, you may depend upon it he keeps a very small stock of it within.

Do not choose your friend by his looks-handsome shoes often pinch the feet.

Do not be too fond of compliments; remember, "thank you, pussy," and "thank you, pussy," kill the cat.

Don't believe the man who talks the most, for mewing cats are very seldom good mousers.

By no means put yourself in another person's power: if you put your thumbs between two grinders, they are very apt to bite.

Drink nothing without seeing it; sign nothing without reading it, and make sure that it means no more than it says.

Don't go to law unless you have nothing to lose: lawyers' houses are built on fools' heads.

Put no dependence on the label of a bag, and count money after your own kin.

In any business never wade into water where you can not see the bottom.

See the sack open before you buy what is in it, for he who trades in the dark asks to be cheated.

Keep clear of a man who does not value his own character.

XXXVI.—I FORGOT.

THERE is no excuse for neglect of duty more common or more unsatisfactory to those hearing it, than "I forgot." Whether the forgetfulness comes from carelessness, inattention, or weakness of the power of memory, the result is the same, and the loss or damage therefrom is no less than it would be if the neglect was premeditated and intentional. If a boy forgets to shut a gate, stray cattle can come through and destroy crops to the same extent as if they had been intentionally let in by some tramp.

The switchman at a railroad station who forgets to fix his lever properly, and allows the incoming train to rush on to destruction, has not the guilt of intentional murder on his soul, but the inevitable law of force works no less destruction to life and property than if he had done it with malice

prepense.

To overcome the habit of forgetfulness-for it is to a great extent a habit is to a degree, at least, in the power of every one. He who is not an idiot has a faculty of memory, and the strength of any faculty can, by exercise and cultivation, be increased. Those who do not endeavor to cultivate it are guilty of culpable neglect, and should not be allowed to plead forgetfulness in palliation of any omission or neglect.

We know a clergyman whose power of memory is so great as to seem really wonderful, the result almost entirely of cultivation. In fact, we have heard him say that when he was young he was so forgetful as to be constantly under

a cloud in consequence. One day, when something more serious than usual had resulted from this failing, he determined to overcome it, and from that moment resolved that his memory should do for him its appointed work, and forced it into action. He allowed himself to make no more memorandums or aids to memory, but demanded that the faculty should work for his assistance. The result is, he has but few equals in the country in this respect.

No one knows the strength of any of his powers, physical or mental, until it is tested. Winship, known the world over as the strong man, came to be so only by daily exercise in lifting weights, gradually increasing them as his muscular power developed; and other examples of increase in physical strength, not so striking, perhaps, but sufficiently so to attract notice, are common all about us.

The mental powers are subject to the same laws regulating growth as are the physical, and are as easily cultivated. Whose, then, the fault if he is forgetful? or with what reason can he urge as an excuse for neglect that phrase of self-condemnation, "I forgot."

XXXVII.-CONSCIENCE AND FUTURE JUDGMENT.

I SAT alone with my conscience,
In a place where time had ceased,
And we talked of my former living
In the land where the years increased.

And I felt I should have to answer
The question it put to me,

And to face the answer and question
Throughout all eternity.

The ghosts of forgotten actions

Came floating before my sight,

And things that I thought were dead things,
Were alive with a terrible might.

And the vision of all my past life
Was an awful thing to face,
Alone with my conscience, sitting
In that solemnly silent place.

And I thought of a far-away warning,
Of a sorrow that was to be mine,
In a land that then was the future,
But now is the present time.

And I thought of my former thinking
Of the judgment-day to be;
But, sitting alone with my conscience,
Seemed judgment enough for me.

And I wondered if there was a future
To this land beyond the grave;
But no one gave me an answer,
And no one came to save.

Then I felt that the future was present,
And the present would never go by,
For it was but the thought of my past life
Grown into eternity.

Then I woke from my timely dreaming,
And the vision passed away,

And I knew the far-away warning
Was a warning of yesterday.

And I pray that I may ne'er forget it,
In this land before the grave,
That I may not cry in the future,
And no one come to save.

And so I have learned a lesson,

Which I ought to have known before,

And which, though I learned it in dreaming,
I hope to forget no more.

K. N. E.-17.