for to-day, and am quite at a loss to understand your question.'

"Is it possible," said the gentleman," that you have not heard that I have been robbed of a large sum of money by the cunning of two of my clerks, and that Charles, if not actually guilty, has been privy to the whole transaction, for this letter was found in his room, in which you (for it bears your signature) advise him how to escape discovery and punishment?" "I can safely assert, Sir," I answered with composure, "that till this moment I never saw that letter, and never heard of the loss you have sustained."

"Then," said the gentleman, "some base design has been formed to throw the guilt on Charles by those who have defrauded me. Yet in the employment he holds, it is next to impossible that he can have been ignorant of the misconduct of his companions; and it is on that account that I have now so severely reprimanded him, as I consider a person who conceals a theft, almost as guilty as one who commits it. I believe Charles would not wrong me of a single farthing; but if he has seen others doing what he knows will defraud me, is he not in great measure, a partaker of their guilt?"

"I feel the truth of all you say, Sir," said Charles, bursting into an agony of tears, "and I will freely confess to you all I know of the sad business, of which my friend is, as he has told you, entirely ignorant. A plan had some months ago been made to obtain possession of some money which it was supposed you would receive on a particular day in the year. I was urged to keep from you the letters which gave notice of the remittances; and on my refusing to do so, the person who made the proposal went away in violent anger, threatening to be revenged on me. I know it was my duty instantly to acquaint you with this, but my weakness was so great, 'the fear of man which bringeth a snare,' kept me silent, and I now justly suffer your displeasure and suspicion.

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Charles," said his master solemnly, but kindly, "let what is past be forgotten except as a warning to you to be henceforth open and fearless in rebuking, and if possible preventing sin. Had you spoken in time, these

unhappy men, who must now be severely punished for their offence, might have been stopped in their wicked course, before they had accomplished their purpose. Their removal from my service might have taken place without the cause being, as it must now be, made public; they might have repented of their evil designs, and in another situation have proved faithful to their employers. Now, nothing but ruin is before them, and instead of saving them from disgrace, your silence has only enabled them to plunge deeper and deeper into iniquity. But go home now for a few days with your friend, till you have recovered your composure, and till this business is settled. I will send for you when all is again quiet in the office."

Thus saying, the gentleman left the room, and Charles, taking me by the arm, walked hastily towards the village. When we arrived at my lodging, he shut the door and begging me to kneel down with him, he returned thanks to God for the mercy shown him in this hour of danger, acknowledging that His hand alone had delivered him from the peril in which he had been placed; and earnestly praying for the help of the Spirit to overcome his sinful infirmity and frailty, and to implant in his heart that holy fear which is the beginning of wisdom, the fear of offending Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.

When we rose from prayer Charles was more cheerful, and proposed visiting our blind friend. As we walked along, he said, "I should have sunk under the grief and shame of this day, if I had not called to mind that beautiful passage in St. Paul's epistle to the Hebrews, in which Christ is described as our great High Priest, making intercession for us at the right hand of his Father. O what a blessed thought it is that He can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, for He was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us choose that chapter (Heb. iv.) for our reading to our old friend; and let us always treasure up in our hearts. the Apostle's earnest exhortation at the close of it, to come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.””

L. S. R.

FORGETTING THE THINGS WHICH ARE BEHIND.

THE reason and benefits of this duty seem to make it nearly allied to that of "taking no thought for the morrow." The habit of foreseeing and dreading evils to come, and of brooding over those which are past, are much the same in character, and require a similar remedy. Neither memory nor foresight were given to us by our gracious Creator to become tormentors and misfortunes. But they are often made no less than these, through the perverseness of our depraved and disordered nature. The power of looking forward to the future was bestowed upon man, that he might in a measure provide for his coming wants, and calmly prepare himself for the uncertainties of the world; but not that he should be so troubled with painful anxieties as to lose present peace, or become unfitted for immediate duties. So also the power of recollecting that which has past was implanted in him, that he might gather experience by considering its lessons and thus daily advance in wisdom. But it was not meant that he should painfully brood over past calamities, or look back with regret upon more prosperous periods of his life, merely to indulge a melancholy and desponding humour. It is strange, but most true, that there is a kind of pleasure felt by many in thus rendering themselves unhappy. Scme have so far given way to this mischief as to be insensible of gratification or thankfulness for anything they have now before them, while lost in vain reflections upon happiness they suppose to be for ever past. Such persons become wretched, and in the same degree useless also, by a sad neglect of the Christian duty which we shall shortly enter upon considering. But without falling into such a depth of this error, we may very often do ourselves great harm by indulging in it for only a short time. Anything which interrupts the believer's healthy peacefulness is an evil; for it robs the Lord of so much of His glory and praise, and gives Him a sluggish, instead of an active and cheerful servant, so long as it lasts. Vain and needless recollections will often have this effect. There is a pleasure in going back by memory to periods of former happiness, in visiting again and again the scenes

of past enjoyment, and dwelling upon the memory of departed friends. We may well say there is a too seductive pleasure in these thoughts, for they generally draw away our minds, without allowing us to suppose we ought to resist them as a duty. But if our Lord's words are properly considered," sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,' surely they will be found to bear as strongly upon this habit, as upon the practice of needless anxiety for the future. If the burden which each day brings with it is enough for our strength to bear-if the compassionate Saviour sees it to be so, and forewarns us of it, we must be as much overloading the mind, by adding the memory of past evils, as by imposing upon it the fear of what may be to come. It can no more sustain the one than the other. Either will give it more to stand against than it can properly manage, in addition to that which the present day brings, and therefore it bends and falters, like an overburdened labourer, and cannot perform the portion of work assigned to it for the day. Thus there is so much lost of the labourer's task, and also of his reward in heaven. Our Lord's words imply that the duties we have to perform, and the annoyances we have to overcome, are as much as the daily strength which He supplies can suffice for. They are not too much for the day, but sufficient; and He has exactly adjusted the one to the other in the case of His believing people, so that they have none to spare for any unnecessary burdens. This is the appointment of his heavenly wisdom; and mercy, the purest and most tender mercy, has evidently directed it. Shall we then mar this gracious and beautiful arrangement, intended to establish our peace and holiness, by wilfully losing ourselves in unprofitable and painful thoughts? Surely it is our wisdom to receive and employ the grace which is now given us, to make full use of it for our comfort and assistance, and not to expect that which God has not pledged Himself to supply. The past and the future, so far as this world is concerned, ought not to disquiet or to alarm those who have now the Lord for their God. Their futurity in heaven they ought indeed to think of with unspeakable joy and delight; but not of their future on earth more than may be necessarily

required. The past they may look back upon, if it shall be to gather instruction and quicken gratitude, to increase humility and learn experience; but they must by no means allow themselves to wish it for a moment to return, or waste their energies in fruitless and dreamy reflections. The believer's portion is before him. There, he has the blessed hope of growing in grace and in the knowledge of Christ while he lives, and afterwards of inheriting eternal glory. Upon that prospect his eyes should be fixed in grateful faith and hope: and his energies are to be employed with pleasure in that direction alone. Such was the practice of the Apostle, "Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded."

SOCIALISM (CONTINUED).

E.

WE will now see what effect was produced on Thomas in consequence of this forsaking of religion. God was no longer in his thoughts; he was not now the servant of God, but he was the slave of the Devil. He had thrown away the shield of faith, and the sword of the Spirit, and thus disarmed, the Devil easily took from him the breast-plate of righteousness and the girdle of truth.

The companions that he now joined were not slow in persuading him to spend his money, and of an evening, after work, he would return to the town dressed in his best clothes, to join in their schemes of idleness and revelry. But Thomas's lawful earnings were not sufficient for all this foolish expense; our great enemy, the Devil, saw this, and watched his opportunity accordingly; he whispered in Thomas's ear," Sell your master's milk one penny a quart dearer, this will bring you a nice little sum in addition to your wages." Conscience answered, "this would not be honest, my master employs me to sell his milk at a certain price; it is not my milk, I have no right to make money by it." The Devil suggests, "it will not injure your master, he will receive the same." "That is not true," says conscience, "it may injure him; his customers will not like to pay more money, and may