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order that you may prove such a character, let me counsel you not to forget daily prayer, and the daily study of the word of God. This is your wisdom; for, by it you will bring down blessings upon your head. Everything which you undertake will prosper if you water it with prayer; for the Almighty not only hears, but answers the prayer of those who call upon his holy name. Be careful for nothing,' says the apostle; but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Phil. iv. 6, 7.

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YES, those were joyous days when I resided under the roof of this kind-hearted preceptor. Days, months, and years flew softly and almost unheeded by, for I was too full of enjoyment to think of their departure.

Mr. White would frequently direct our thoughts to the change we should experience when we had reached the age of manhood. "The sun of hope," he would say, "will then become dim, and anxiety will usurp its place." He would also assert that, "like as the dove, when the waters covered the earth, could find no resting-place,

save on the ark, from whence Noah let it go free, so we should not find a resting-place from the cares and troubles of this life, unless it was in that never-failing ark of God's people-Jesus Christ."

Once since our schoolboy days, our tutor had an opportunity of asking many of his pupils whether they had found his words true. This was on a very interesting occasion. A few who really loved him consulted together, and arranged matters so skilfully, that they raised a subscription among the old scholars, for the purpose of presenting him with a piece of plate as a tribute of affection and respect. The tribute was prepared, and a day fixed for the presentation, and it was while they were assembled in Mr. White's dining-room, that he inquired if they had found his words fulfilled. All acknowledged his words were true the eyes of some two or three glistening with pleasure as they gave their assent, and several of the others wearing a thoughtful brow.

The difference in the aspect of his old pupils was evidently noticed by Mr. White; and I have no doubt that he interpreted it as a sign that those whose eyes sparkled with delight had found the refuge he pointed out to them, and that the rest had been vainly seeking peace in the world. He made no remark thereon, however, but leaving the matter to their own consciences, heartily joined in our conversation on past scenes, which shortly after became very animated.

This conversation was commenced by the still light-hearted Charles Murphy, who could only


be serious for a few moments. Charles commenced by recalling some of those scenes to memory in which we had figured in our schooldays. "I say, Philosopher," said Charles, still using the old familiar term, "have you forgotten Simon Sly, and Edward Grainger, and John Cope? Were they not glorious days when we had to deal with such characters? I do not think I ever enjoyed anything in life half so much as I did the scenes which then took place amongst us. I could be content to become an infant in my mother's lap again, if I could be sure of taking my part in such scenes once more. In my own mind, indeed, I often re-enact them. think I have caught Simon Sly, at least a hundred times; and William Weston had as many morning excursions from the bed-room window. And, as for apostrophizing the daws, I believe I have done it a thousand times! It was one of the happiest ideas that ever entered my head and many a time have I set the table in an uproar by recounting the transaction. As for you, Philosopher, I have rendered your name famous among all my friends, and they often express a wish that they had been amongst us, that they might have enjoyed a sight of your long face. Oh! were they not glorious times? I shall never see the like again; and all I can do is to dwell upon them, which I do with pleasure."

I had no opportunity of answering Charles, for Mr. White, who had been smiling all the while he was thus rambling on, as soon as he

had ceased, observed: "Still, Charles Murphy to the life: as lively as ever. Oh! Charles! Charles! I should be half ashamed of carrying such a thoughtless head on such a pair of ample shoulders. I should have thought it time that your buoyancy of spirits was somewhat repressed. Time, you know, hath a swift foot, and we cannot so trip him up as to stay his haste; no! not for a moment. And recollect, I have often warned you that it is a sacred trust committed to us by God, of which we must one day render an account."

Charles Murphy really loved our preceptor, and revered his wisdom; whence he thanked him cordially for his admonition, and expressed a wish that he could be more serious. For a brief moment he assumed a more thoughtful brow, but he soon relapsed into his usual light-heartedness. "I cannot tell how it is," said he, "but I must enjoy myself with retrospection. Everything around me inspires me with joy; even the dear old face of our old master. Sitting before him, I feel myself young again, and I must re-enact, at least, in words, some of our old scenes and adventures."

Charles here launched forth in reminiscences, with such volubility and hilarity, that he fairly drew us all, including our tutor, into a similar mood. We all talked and laughed about days gone by; and Charles has been often heard to boast that he almost achieved two miracles that day: "he made our old preceptor right merry, and contracted the long face of the Philosopher into the


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