whilst a slave to this peculiar lust, or whilst your piety is so much raised or depressed by the narcotic power of this deceptive drug. Break, my brother, from such "bonds of

iniquity." "Take hold," Christianlike, and help us wake the Church, and wake the Nation, to this great and fearful evil.

If you are for pleasure, marry-if you prize rosy health, marry-and even if money be your object, marry. A good wife is heaven's best gift to man-his angel and minister of graces innumerable his gem of many virtues-his casket of many jewels-her voice his sweetest music -her smile his brightest day-her kiss the guardian of his innocenceher arms the pale of his safety, the palm of his life-her industry his surest wealth-her economy his safest steward-her lips his faithful counsellors-her bosom the safest pillow of his cares-and her prayers the ablest advocates of heaven's blessings on his head. Jeremy

blossom, but will bear no fruit. Therefore, even to the most delicately brought up among your daughters, give solid instruction of all kinds, which shall cultivate their minds and hearts, and fit them to fill their places in creation as human beings, and in society as young ladies. Teach them, literally as well as figuratively, to cook plain food, as well as to bake fine confectionery, although they will probably prefer the latter occupation to the former; for the latter brings its own reward, is a more rare accomplishment, and will procure for them more praise from the guests at their father's table."

attributed? It is in vain to think of cultivating principles of generosity and beneficence by mere exhortation and reasoning. Nothing but the practical habit of overcoming our own selfishness, and of familiarly encountering privations and discomfort on account of others, will ever enable us to do it when required. And, therefore, I am firmly persuaded that indulgence infallibly produces selfishness and hardness of heart, and that nothing but a pretty severe discipline and control can lay the foundation of a magnanimous character.-Lord Jeffrey.

DOMESTIC LIFE IN THE

MIDDLE AGES.

RUDE were the manners then; a man and his wife ate off the same trencher; a few wooden-handled knives, with blades of rugged iron, were a luxury for the great; candles were unknown. A servant girl held a torch at supper; one or two mugs of coarse brown earthenware formed all the drinking apparatus in a house. Rich gentlemen wore clothes of unlined leather. Ordinary persons scarcely ever touched flesh meat.

Noble mansions drank little or no wine in the summer; a little corn seemed wealth. Women had trivial marriage portions; even ladies dressed extremely plain. The chief part of a family's expenses was what the males spent in arms and horses, none of which, however, were very good or very showy; and grandees had to lay out money on their lofty towers.

In Dante's comparatively polished times, ladies began to paint their cheeks by way of finery, going to the theatre, and to use less assiduity in spinning and playing distaff. What is only a symptom of prosperity in large, is the sure sign of ruin in small States. So, in Florence, he might very well deplore what in London or Paris would be praised or cause a smile. Wretchedly, indeed, plebeians hoveled; and if noble castles were cold and dreary everywhere, they were infinitely worse in Italy, from the horrible modes of torture and characteristic cruelty, too frightful to dwell on. Few of the infamous structures built at the time treated of, stand at present, yet their ruins disclose rueful

corners.

utmost the path of their venerable parent as he descended to the gates of death. Having been bereft of his wife, he spent some of the last years of his life beneath the roof of his daughter, at Ross, in Herefordshire, where he was greatly beloved by all who had the privilege of his acquaintance. Such was his attachment to the church at Rodborough, that he could not bear the idea of being entirely separated from it, consequently he never formally united himself with the Congregational church at Ross, but he felt the liveliest interest in every thing connected with it, never absenting himself from its services, excepting from indisposition, or as he was prevented by some irremovable obstacle. He ever, to the utmost extent of his ability, held up the hands of the pastor, and the many fervent petitions which he presented at the prayer meetings will not be readily forgotten.

Notwithstanding his very advanced age, until a few months of his decease he was accustomed to go about from house to house for the distribution of religious tracts, accompanying their delivery by many pious and edifying observations. He was both humble and amiable, and before the time that disease weakened his mental as well as his bodily powers, he was an exceedingly happy Christian; his countenance, generally beaming with smiles, was indicative of this. To the great evangelical principles of our holy religion he felt a most fervent attachment, and especially to the atonement of the Lord Jesus, that infinitely precious sacrifice; this may justly be said to have been to

him "all his salvation and all his desire." His was not a religion of fits and starts, extending merely to high days and special occasions, or to sudden emergencies. He was a humble, holy walker with God, every day, and "all the day long," endeavouring to render to the Saviour whom he loved "the glory due to His name."

During this period he kept up a constant correspondence with his old friends at Rodborough, and expressed the most fervent solicitude for the prosperity of the Redeemer's cause at that place. In one of his letters to Miss King, one of the members of the church, he says, "I still feel my heart knit to Rodborough and its friends. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to hear good news from them. I enjoyed the happiest days and years of my life from the beginning of the year 1801. For many years it was the house of God and the gate of heaven to me. The Sabbaths were to me as the days of heaven upon the earth.' I was very unwell last week, and thought my end was very near, but did not think but that it would be 'all well.' The Lord is very good to me. Several times a day I retire to my little bedroom, and offer up my poor feeble petitions iu secret

'In secret silence of the mind,

My heaven, and there my God I find.' The more I pray, the more I feel disposed to pray. How thankful we ought to be that the Lord ever gave us a disposition to call upon His name!"

The last illness of Mr. Denton was of a very lingering character, so that

he was long waiting for the salvation of the Lord, before a merciful deliverance was granted to him. There were times also when, from

"the

physical causes, like his great Master, he laboured under a degree of darkness and depression; but even at these times he would often refer to the great goodness, mercy, and faithfulness of the Most High, displayed towards him in years that had passed away; and hence he was led to put his trust in Him for the future, sometimes saying, "I trust that He who has been my supporter and comforter now for about sixty years, will not desert me at last." As the outward man decayed, inward man was renewed 'day by day;" and although not the subject of all that joy which some believers in Christ are favoured with, which may be readily accounted for, inasmuch as the "grasshopper had become a burden," and heart and flesh had failed; still his faith in a precious Saviour was often strong and increasing as he approached nearer to His heavenly kingdom. Not many days before his death, on being asked by a minister who frequently visited him, "If he had any desire to be raised again from the bed of affliction," he instantly replied, "I would rather depart and be with Christ." And in the last interview which he had with him, when he was brought too low to engage in anything like a lengthened conversation, on the question being proposed to him, "If Christ was then precious to his soul," he most clearly intimated that this was the case. When he was actually

passing through "the swellings of Jordan," his daughter asked him "whether he was aware that his earthly course would very soon terminate," to which he replied, "he believed it would." And on the inquiry being made, "If God was with him," he answered that "He was." After having said this, he gradually fell asleep in Jesus." Often had it been made a matter of prayer on his behalf, that an easy dismission might be granted to him— a prayer that was graciously answered-for the exact moment when the emancipated spirit took its flight from the mortal tabernacle could scarcely be recognised. "So after he had served his generation, by the will of God, he fell on sleep, and was laid unto his fathers."

His death took place October 27th, 1859. On the 1st of November his mortal remains were conveyed to the cemetery connected with Rodborough Tabernacle, and deposited near those of his dear wife and some of his children; the Rev. J. Williams, the minister of the chapel, officiating on the occasion, who on the following Lord's day preached his funeral sermon to a numerous auditory. On the same day the Rev. W. F. Buck, of Ross, also improved his death, from Psalm cxvi. 15, "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints!" The memory of this venerable saint will long be fragrant at both these places. May we be "followers" of him, so far as he was an imitator of Christ, and of all those who, "through faith and patience, are now inheriting the promises !"