would be harassing himself with fruitless imaginings about some fresh plan which he had adopted, or some impending evil which he feared. It was not that he dreaded sorrow, or could not bear disappointment, but he had a great dislike to uncertainty and suspense, and always said that if he knew what was going to happen, he could meet it with courage, and, perchance. with calmness. No wonder that the lines which he had just been perusing were so congenial to his taste. They were these, or something like them

"The future! Yet it is not that I dread

The sorrows which perhaps are gathering there :
If bitter trials were before me spread,

I would not shrink from my appointed share.
Who would expect upon this sin-stained earth
Perpetual joy and never-fading mirth?

"But, oh! it is the strange uncertainty

Which wraps itself round life's untrodden way—
The dark suspense-the fearful mystery-
Which cast their shadows o'er each coming day,
Which makes me tremble ;-would that I could scan
The future, and unravel all its plan!"

"Ah, if I only could!" sighed Wilton to himself. "If I could only tell, now, at this commencement of another year, the events which will certainly mark it, how much more contented I should be. I don't like going on always in the dark. Perhaps I am expecting to be very happy, and then some heavy trouble comes and almost crushes me down; or perhaps I am anticipating some great sorrow, and on the contrary, I meet with unexpected joy. How much misery in either case I might have been spared, could I have foreseen the course of events! How strange we know so little of the future! It must be for our good, certainly, or else God would have arranged it otherwise; and yet I feel somehow as if it would be a great relief to my mind if I could just take a peep into futurity." And yet Wilton Gray was a Christian! You

C

hardly thought so, perhaps, dear reader, and I must confess I had almost forgotten it. But I am not sure whether you and I might not present quite as inconsistent an appearance as he does to others, if our secret thoughts were thus unfolded to them; nay, probably we are doing so now by our daily actions ! However, let that pass; we are busy with Wilton Gray just now, and won't stop to scrutinize ourselves. How long Wilton Gray had sat there by the fireside, fretting over his ignorance of coming events, I do not exactly know; but the shades of evening had begun to gather over the wintry sky, and he was wishing for his wife's return, that he might ring for tea, when he fancied that he heard some one speaking to him. He listened and looked round, and beheld a shadowy form, which he at once recognized as the Spirit of the New Year, who thus addressed him :

:

"Thy desire, foolish and presumptuous as it is, is granted at least in part. I am commissioned to reveal to thee two or three of the most important events which will occur to thee during my stay with thee.”

Overjoyed at this unhoped-for favour, Wilton was eagerly pouring forth his thanks, when the spirit gently stopped him:-" Wait," she said, "until thou hast taken thy peep at futurity. Now, look."

Wilton gazed as directed, and saw a life-like picture, representing himself as a rich and prosperous man. Instead of being perplexed, as he now often was, with bills which he had to meet, and debts which he could not recover, he was in the possession of a thriving and unrivalled business, which brought in large profits and required but little labour. He was a great man in his line. He had plenty of money, plenty of influence, plenty of friends.

"When will this come to pass ?" he exclaimed, eagerly.

"Within six months," was the answer.

Wilton was so enraptured with the thought of his

wealth, that he did not heed what passed around him, and to his great surprise he found himself the next moment in his own counting-house, busily engaged with his ordinary affairs. It was the same old spot, and there were the same old faces about him, and he himself, with his pen in his hand and his ledger opened on the table, looked just the same as usual; and yet he felt that a change had passed over him, and that surrounding objects seemed to wear a different aspect. His mind was restless and distracted, and his thoughts were constantly wandering into the future. He wondered by what happy events his predicted good fortune was to be realized; whether a sudden windfall would occur; or whether a gradual but rapid increase in his business would lead to the desired result. It was no marvel that, with his attention thus abstracted from the present, he filled his ledger with innumerable errors, and made his sharp head-clerk stare with the irrelevancy of his remarks; and at length he was so ashamed of his repeated mistakes, that he got up from his seat, put on his hat, and went out. His mind must recover its equilibrium before it could balance the varying claims of pounds, shillings, and pence. “Besides," as he argued to himself, "there was no occasion for him to stick so close to the old counting-house now; he had slaved himself long enough, and had fairly earned a little relaxation. And, indeed, since he was sure of the harvest, why should he trouble himself so much about the culture of the soil? There was no occasion for him to work so hard as he had done, when in six months' time he would have all that he wanted."

Thus Wilton reasoned; and in accordance with this reasoning he very soon acted. He did not exactly intend to neglect the means because the end was certain, but practically and in a great measure he did so. He became indolent and careless. Each day he went later to his counting-house, and left it earlier; and if there was any business which he did not feel in the

humour for transacting, he coolly put it off, and in this way he lost many of his best customers; and he lost others by his inattention and incivility. He seldom took any pains now to please those who gave him orders; and if they happened to be fidgety or selfimportant, his patience and his politeness were soon exhausted. His replies were short and abrupt, and his manner anything but tradesman-like. Not that he purposely neglected or offended his customers; but his thoughts were so full of his anticipated wealth, his spirit was so elated with the prospect, that he could not descend with ease and equanimity to the trifling and often teazing monotony of every-day life.

Those who were unacquainted with Wilton's secret, of course marvelled at this sudden and unaccountable alteration in his conduct. His industry had changed into idleness; his civility into indifference; his economy into extravagance; his humility into self-esteem; his painstaking into presumption. And in spiritual things what a change for the worse! The sweet feeling of daily dependence upon his heavenly Father, and of reliance upon His blessing, had gradually passed away, and with its loss he unconsciously grew less simple-minded and consistent in other respects. As he looked more at the things which are seen and temporal, his vision of the things which are unseen and eternal became less vivid. In his anticipated prosperity, his heart was lifted up within him, and he declined from the ways of real, heartfelt godliness.

And with regard to those around him, how deleterious was his influence! At home, his kind, goodnatured little wife, so easily led in any direction by his example, followed too readily, especially when she heard of the wonderful prophecy, in some of his downward steps. His children were less restrained and more indulged. And his clerks and assistants shared also in the evil consequences; for as Wilton relaxed his own efforts in business, he allowed his young men

to relax theirs. He did not professedly allow them to do so; but when he was not there and he was so often not there!-they naturally took advantage of his absence, and began to exemplify the truth of the quaint old proverbs, "Like master, like man," and When the cat's away, the mice will play." Idle, trifling, pleasure-loving habits were engendered; nor was this all, for those who learnt to rob their master of his time, soon found out the way to defraud him of his money; and one of his clerks absconded with large sums in his possession. Deeply did Wilton Gray feel that. It was not the loss of the gold which he cared for; but the consciousness of his own culpable neglect weighed heavily upon his conscience. For Harry Bertram, the clerk, was a well-disposed, well-broughtup youth-the only son of his widowed mother-who had been entrusted to Wilton's charge, with the understanding that he would look after him, and keep him out of harm's way. And instead of looking after him, Wilton had left him to take care of himself; and had not only suffered him to run into temptation, but had accelerated his approaches to it. And the past could never be recalled!

Oh! Wilton Gray, would it not have been far better for you if you had never taken that peep into futurity?

All at once, as Wilton was mournfully reviewing his late conduct, and contemplating his sad deterioration of character, the Spirit of the New Year again appeared to him, and informed him that she had come to unfold to him another page of his existence.

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What event have you now to foretell?" asked Wilton with a saddened brow and a beating heart, as he thought of her last visit.

The answer was slowly and solemnly spoken. "The wife whom thou so fondly and deservedly lovest will be parted from thee by death. Before my race is ended, her career will have closed."