unable to obtain credit, he would beg at a shop for articles for which he was no longer able to pay. His mind became weakened by his misfortunes, and in his lonely garret he would at times imagine he was giving one of his fashionable parties. His attendant, who humoured him, would announce the arrival of the Duchess of Devonshire, or some distinguished visitor. Rising up, the poor beau would salute the empty air with ceremonious politeness; then, as if conscious of his fallen position, his eyes would fill with childish tears. At ten o'clock the carriages of his imaginary visitors would be announced as in waiting, and the farce was at an end. Such was Beau Brummell in his fall. Oh, what a contrast now between these times and the days when he led the glittering throng of fashion in Bond-street and Pall Mall! Further misfortunes, however, were yet to come. Brummell's reason having partially failed, he was conducted to a mad-house. An English clergyman who visited him when near his death, tried to touch some chord of religion to which his mind might vibrate. It was, however, all in vain. 'Never," says the visitor, who was familiar with the treatment of the insane, " never did I come in contact with such an exhibition of vanity and thoughtlessness. In reply to my entreaties that he would pray, he said, 'I do try,' but he added something which made me doubt whether he understood my meaning." Shortly after this visit, his nurse observed him assume an appearance of extreme anxiety. He fixed his eyes upon her as if asking for assistance. She made him repeat some form of prayer, then turning on his side, he died. Such was the end of the man of fashion. pause not to moralize on his melancholy career, on the exhibition of selfishness, wasted time and squandered powers which it presents. He had devoted himself to the slavery of fashion, and in the end he discovered he had been deluded by the mirage. From the "Mirage of Life." We Chapters for Junior Teachers & Senior Scholars. RICH AS A JEW. BY OLD ALAN WHEN I was a boy, I used often to walk out with my father, who seldom lost an opportunity of turning to advantage any little adventure we met with. He was always trying to make me wiser and better. One day we stopped at the window of a jeweller's shop, that looked as GRAY. fine as gold and jewels could make it. There were gold watches, and gold chains, and gold snuff-boxes, and gold rings, and gold pins, and a hundred other things; and I thought to myself what a rich man the owner of the shop must be. I have forgotten one of the two names which were printed over the window; but the other name was Levi. "The owner of that shop," said my father, "is a Jew." As we walked on, my father told me that though the Jews had, according to the predictions of the holy scriptures, been scattered into all nations; and though they had been persecuted in almost every nation of the earth, yet many of them, by their industry, perseverance, and love of money, had amassed great wealth, so that the saying, "As rich as a Jew," became a proverb. Soon after this we met a handsome carriage and two gray horses; the gentleman inside the carriage was a banker. I looked at the fine gray horses as they pranced by me, proudly arching their necks and snorting, and just then my father said to me, "That man is as rich as a Jew." Before we had arrived at the end of the street, my father stopped a moment opposite a large house, in which he said lived a merchant, who had passed many years in India, and while he was speaking the merchant came out of the house and walked on before us. "That man," said my father, in a low tone of voice, "is as rich as a Jew." On turning the next corner, an old man with a clean, but coarse and threadbare coat upon his back, walking with a stick and carrying a basket of watercresses on his arm, was about to pass us, touching his hat; but my father stopped him, spoke kindly to him, and said that he intended to call on him on his way home. As my father went on he said to me, "That man is as rich as a Jew." Though I was not at all surprised to hear that the banker and the merchant were rich as Jews, it did very much surprise me to hear that it was the same with the old man with the basket on his arm. My father, who was quick enough to read my thoughts, went on thus in his conversation. "When I said that the merchant and the banker were rich as Jews, I alluded to the money they had amassed together; but when I said the same thing of the poor old watercress man, I alluded to riches of another kind. because they Riches are valued, are the means of enabling men to procure in so many ways what they desire. If a man had the wealth of the world, and could not use it, or was dissatisfied, he would still be a poorer man than one who, having enough to supply his wants, was therewith contented. Bags of gold would be of no use to one perishing with hunger, or fainting with thirst in the hot burning desert. True riches must refer not to time only, but to eternity, and many a humble-minded Bible reader is enabled to say, "Though poor and unlearned in the ways of the Lord, I believe in the truth of his word; That true riches are they which will not pass away, And true wisdom the fear of the Lord." After having thus spoken, my father was silent, with the intention, no doubt, that I might think a little on what he had said; nor did he once open his lips to speak to me for the next quarter of an hour. The banker, the Jew, and the old watercress man, by turns occurred to my mind; and I felt quite sure that what my father had said was true, that a poor man contented with what he had, was really richer than one who had heaps of money and was dissatisfied. On returning home my father did not fail to call on the old watercress man, who, though very infirm, was not merely peaceful, but exceedingly cheerful. Every sentence he uttered was caught up by me and remembered. When my father spoke of poverty, the old man said, "Poverty, sir, may be said to depend more on our hearts than on our pockets, for where God gives his grace and contentment, a little goes a great way. I cannot boast of my money bags, and yet, sir, I somehow think that I am as rich as the richest of my neighbours." When my father touched on the subject of trouble, the old man said, "Trouble always seems heavy, sir; but it is a great deal heavier when we do not see God's hand in it. We know that man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward;' but for all this,' affliction cometh not forth of the dust, neither doth trouble spring out of the ground;' God will give those who look to him strength to bear all the trouble he puts upon them." When my father dwelt a little on the sickness of a friend who had been long afflicted, the old watercress man observed, "Sickness is a sore trouble to many, but God never sends it but for a wise purpose. 'Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil?' David says, speaking of him who considereth the poor, 'Thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness.' Now, sir, if God in his goodness makes our bed for us, we may well be content to lie upon it, enduring any sickness he may send. A sick bed with his presence, is better than health without it." The last subject on which my father spoke was death. "Death is as you say, sir, a solemn subject to every one," said the old watercress man, "whatever may be his prospects; but blessed be God for those cheering words, 'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord,' Rev. xiv. 13; and 'When this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?' 1 Cor. xv. 54, 55. "It is very possible, sir, that a man built up in the faith of Christ crucified, and strengthened with a sense of pardoning mercy, may rejoice in the prospect of death, and there are moments of this kind, now and then, with me; I could then sing for joy." "Father," said I, as soon as we had left the house, "it is as you say, for I feel sure that the old watercress man is as rich as a Jew." Past experience has only deepened the conviction on my mind, that poverty depends much more on the state of the heart than on that of the pocket. JUST AS THOU ART. Counterpart of the beautiful hymn, "Just as I am," with music, see Bible Class Magazine, 1849, p. 75., JUST as thou art-without one trace O guilty sinner, come! Burden'd with guilt, wouldst thou be blest? Trust not the world; it gives no rest: I bring relief to hearts opprest O weary sinner, come! Come, leave thy burden at the cross; Count all thy gains but empty dross: My grace repays all earthly loss— O needy sinner, come! Come, hither bring thy boding fears, Thy aching heart, they bursting tears; 'Tis Mercy's voice salutes thine ears; O trembling sinner, come! "The Spirit and the bride say, Come; Rejoicing saints re-echo, Come: Who faints, who thirsts, who will may come Thy Saviour bids thee come! R. S. C. "TIME TO ME THIS TRUTH HAS TAUGHT." BY CHARLES SWAIN. TIME to me this truth has taught, ('Tis a truth that's worth revealing,) More offend from want of thought Than from any want of feeling: If advice we would convey, There's a time we should convey it, If we've but a word to say, There's a time in which to say it. Oft unknowingly the tongue Touches on a chord so aching, That a word or accent wrong, Pains the heart almost to breaking; Many a tear of wounded pride, Many a fault of human blindness, Has been soothed or turned aside Though we tend it e'er so much: Something secret in it preys, Which no human aid can touch. So in many a lovely breast Lies some canker-grief concealed, That if touched is more oppressed, Left unto itself is healed! TIME IS LIKE A RIVER. TIME is like a river, Ceaseless in its flow; Never backward, never, Is it known to go. But for ever onward, Like a living thing, And with power resistless, Swayeth every thing. Sunny days and shadows Alternate come and go,. Resembling joy and sadness, In life's perpetual flow. Onward and for ever, Vastly and sublime, Never backward, never,' Crieth Father Time. Such is the great lesson Impressed on all below, Saturday Rambler. |