the sepulchre of the kings!" Once he rejoiced, in the light, and thought it a pleasant thing to behold the sun; but how many suns have risen and set behind "the mountains that are round about Jerusalem," since the days of darkness came upon him! How wise, then, was he to remember those days, to realize their coming, ́ and to anticipate their long duration?

We

The young sometimes plead the length of life, as an excuse for putting off these recollections. But how much wiser it would be to consider rather the length of that "night, in which no man can work!" We need not go so far back as the days of Solomon, in order to be convinced of this. Let our thoughts only recur to a comparatively recent time, the beginning of the last century, for instance: the literature of the day makes us well acquainted with the period. We are quite familiar with that generation; their thoughts, their feelings, manners and habits, their hopes and fears, were much like our own. can easily realize a family party assembled around the blazing fire of our great-grand sires, on the New Year's morning of one thousand seven hundred and eighteen. By the aid of a little imagination, we can substitute the huge carved mantel-piece, adorned with grotesque figures and rich china jars, for our light classic marble, and tasty chimney ornaments: and then we may fancy their cheerful looks, and friendly salutations, as the compliments of the season were interchanged. The young faces then, like the young faces now, beaming with hope and joy, and looking forward to a long series of new and happy years and yet it is of these once gay and

youthful beings that we must now say, "Our fathers where are they? They looked forward to distant times, did they look quite far enough? They thought, perhaps, of ten, twenty, or fifty years to come; but did their thoughts extend to a hundred ?-Did they think of the year 1818, when all to them would be over; when all they hoped, feared, and rejoiced, would be forgotten?-did they remember "the days of darkness?"-It is of no importance to us to answer this question: probably it was then, as it is now, the few did, and the many did not "so number their days as to apply their hearts to wisdom."

But let us turn from the past to the present; and ask, do we so number them? The next age, and new generations, will as certainly come to sweep us and ours away, and to occupy our stations, as we have taken possession of those of our forefathers. The social circles who assemble on the New Year's morning of 1918, will not probably ever pay us the compliment of recollecting that we ever existed: or should such a thought arise, it will only be, perhaps, to laugh, at our old-fashioned and antiquated customs; or to congratulate themselves upon living in a more advanced and happy state of society. Some few, it may be, will moralize upon the past age; reflect how that generation has passed away, and charitably hope that they were wise enough, while they saw the light, "to remember the days of darkness."

But is this wisdom ours? Do we realize those days? Do we frequently call off our thoughts from the objects which surround us, and sum

mon them to these solemn recollections? A new year reminds us of the quick passage of life. It is now truly seasonable to consider our latter end. We have all been recently reminded, in the most affecting manner, how soon "the flower may fade." Every youth in Britain, has been solemnly, and, as it were, personally addressed by the awful voice of this providence. What young heart had not sympathized with England's fair Princess, in her distinguished lot and splendid prospects? How many of our readers have formerly amused themselves with imagining, if they were in her place, what they should feel, and what they would do?-And now, it appears, that if they had been, the wisest and best thing that they could have thought or done, would have been to "remember the days of darkness!" let those whose imaginations have often visited her in her spacious palace, now pursue her to the dark and lonesome sepulchre; not one ray of sweet light," nor of that "pleasant sun," which still shines on her deserted mansion, can penetrate to those gloomy vaults. The " days of darkness" are come upon her.

66

But to what purpose should we indulge these contemplations? not as an idle speculation; not for the sake of melancholy brooding; not to compare our own situation with her's, and to congratulate ourselves that we are not now as she is: but on the contrary, to recollect our own mortality, and to reflect that, although we could not partake the honours of her former station, we

shall assuredly share the darkness of her pree; not indeed in a spacious mausoleum, but in some humble grave.

sent abode

"Well, if our days must fly,

We'll keep their end in sight,

We'll spend them all in wisdom's way,
And let them speed their flight."

This is the moral of the whole: and how cheering is the thought to which it leads! If we are Christians, light dawns upon the darkness of death itself, and penetrates even to the tomb. Then we may say, "O grave, where is thy victory!" and, in this cheerful song, the prince and peasant may unite.

While we remember, then, the days of darkness, let it be in order to lead our thoughts, our desires, our endeavours, our ambition, towards a land of light and glory. "The night cometh, but also the morning." The night of death is dark, but the morning of the resurrection will break with inconceivable brightness, and how pleasant will it be to our eyes to behold that light. The days of darkness will be past forever when "the new heavens and the new earth" appear. "There will be no night there;" and "there will be no need of the sun, neither of the moon, for the glory of God and of the Lamb will be the light thereof."

XX.

THEORY AND PRACTICE.

ONE evening, during the vacation, Frank, a tall school boy, amused his younger brother Haṛ

ry, by reading an essay which had gained him the first prize at school. The subject was SelfDenial.-Frank was a clever lad, and had acquitted himself very well. He represented his subject in so striking a light, that it made a considerable impression on the mind of his young auditor; who, as soon as it was finished, thanked his brother for his good advice, and expressed a determination of endeavouring to profit by it."I am afraid," said he, "I have never learned to deny myself as I ought; but I hope, brother Frank, that I shall not forget this lesson of yours; I wish now you would be so kind as to give me some more good hints on the subject."

Now Frank, not considering this the best possible compliment that could be paid to his composition, felt disappointed that, instead of commenting upon the force of his arguments, or the graces of his style, he should begin gravely to moralize about it: and it confirmed him in a favourite opinion of his, that his brother Harry had not a spark of genius, nor ever would

have.

Harry repeated his request; but finding his brother more inclined to discuss the merits, and relate the success of his essay, than to draw a practical improvement from it, he contented himself with his own private resolutions. "To-morrow," said he to himself, "to-morrow morning I will begin. But why not begin to night?" The clock had just struck, and Harry recollected that his mother had desired them not to sit up a minute after the clock struck nine. He reminded his brother of this order. "Never mind," said