Lucy. But that would be very difficult.

Mother. Not if it be attempted in the right way. It would be difficult, and indeed quite impossible, to restrain all foolish and evil thoughts with a direct view to be admired or approved by our fellow-creatures: but if we resolve to do so in the fear of God, from a recollection that He searches and knows us, and understands our thoughts afar off," we shall find assistance and motive; and success will certainly follow. If, like David, we hate "vain thoughts," because God hates them, we shall not suffer them to "lodge within us;" but shall desire as the apostle did, to bring every thought into subjection to the obedience of Christ." Thus, you see, the argument terminates where most of our discussions do; for whatever is amiss in us there is but one remedy.

Let us entreat God to change our evil hearts; to make them pure and holy; to cleanse them from vanity, selfishness, and uncharitableness; and then all subordinate good consequences will follow. We shall enjoy the esteem and good-will of our fellow-creatures, while ensuring that which is of infinitely greater consequence, the approbation of our own conscience, and of Him, "whose favour is better than life."

XVIII.

COMPLAINT OF THE DYING YEAR.

RECLINING on a couch of fallen leaves, wrapped in a fleecy mantle, with withered limbs, hoarse voice, and. snowy beard, behold a venerable man. His pulses beat feebly; his breath becomes shorter; he exhibits every mark of approaching dissolution. This is old Eighteen Hundred and Seventeen; and as our readers must all remember him a young man, as rosy and blithsome as 10

VOL. I.

themselves, they will, perhaps, feel interested in hearing some of his dying expressions, together with a few particulars of his past life. His existence is still likely to be prolonged a few weeks by the presence of his daughter December, the last and sole survivor of his twelve fair children; and it is thought the father and daughter will expire together. The following are some of the expressions which have been taken down just as they fell from his dying lips: any want of order or accuracy will, therefore, be excused.

"I am," said he, "the son of old father Time, and the last of a numerous progeny; for he has had no less than five thousand eight hundred and seventeen of us; but it has ever been his fate to see one child expire before another was born. It is the opinion of some, that his own constitution is beginning to break up; and that when he has given birth to a hundred or two more of us, his family being complete, he himself will be no

more.

"Alas! how have I been deceived! like other youngsters I was sanguine and credulous in early life: and no wonder: for in my youthful days I received nothing but flattery and adulation, with the fairest promises of respect and good treatment. I heard that my poor brother and predecessor had been very ill used: this they confessed, while they declared their intentions to behave better to me. I have been told, that on the morning of my birth, nothing was heard but the language of joy and congratulation. It was a season of general festivity: every face beamed with pleasure; all was hope and expectation. In some places the event was announced by the ringing of bells: in others, it was recognized by solemn thanksgivings and hymns of praise. My name was sounded in every social circle, and my appearance was acknowledged in many a retired chamber. It was not, indeed, on those outward and noisy demonstrations

of joy that my highest hopes were founded; but rather from the many private assurances, and even solemn vows and promises I received, from one and another, of being well treated, duly appreciated and properly employed. It was at this time that I heard so much of their ill conduct towards my late brother; how his property had been squandered, and his gifts undervalued; while, as the best and only compensation they could make for this behaviour, I was to receive double attention and unabating respect. I could not but felicitate myself upon having made my appearance at so favourable a juncture, when so many seemed sensible of my value, and agreed as with one consent to do me justice. It was thus, in good humour with myself and my dependants, that I commenced my sanguine career; and moving onward in my swift but regular course, began to distribute of my substance as I passed. Though it is true that I gave but little at a time, yet my donations were so perpetual that all who stood ready to receive as I dealt them out, might have become rich but very early in my career I began to experience considerable disappointment from observing, that although I was still spoken of in terms of general respect, yet that my individual gifts were despised or misemployed. Many of my precious moments have I seen thrown away with great contempt, as of no value, although they were of the very same quality as those weeks and months of which they still continued to acknowledge the importance."

Here the Old Year called for his account books, and turned over the pages with a sorrowful eye. He has kept, it appears, an accurate register of the moments, minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months which he has issued; and subjoined, in some places, notices of the use to which they have been applied. These particulars it would be tedious to detail; perhaps the recollection of our readers may furnish them as well. But we must

notice one circumstance: upon turning to a certain page in his accounts, the old man was much affected, and the tears streamed down his furrowed cheek. This was no other than the register of the forty-eight Sundays which he has already issued; and which, of all the wealth he had to dispose of, has been, it appears, the most scandalously wasted. "These," said he, 66 were my most precious gifts. I had but fifty-two of them: alas! how lightly have they been esteemed." Here, upon referring back to certain old memorandums, he found a long list of vows and resolutions which had a particular reference to these fifty-two Sundays. This, with a mingled emotion of grief and anger, he tore into a hundred pieces, and threw them on the embers, by which he was endeavouring to warm his shivering limbs.

"And yet, I feel," said he, "more pity than indignation towards these unhappy offenders; they were far greater enemies to themselves than to me. But there are a few outrageous ones, by whom I have been defrauded of so much of my substance, that it is difficult to think of them with patience; that notorious thief Procrastination, for instance, of whom every body has heard, and who is well known to have wronged my venerable father of so much of his property. There are also three noted pickpockets, Sleep, Sloth, and Pleasure, from whom I have suffered much: besides a certain busy-body called Dress, who under the pretence of making the most of me, and taking great care of my gifts, steals away more of my property than any two of them.

"As for me, all must acknowledge that I have performed my part towards friends and foes. I have fulfilled my utmost promise, and been more bountiful than many of my predecessors. My twelve fair children have, each in turn, aided my exertions; and their various tastes and dispositions have all conduced to the

general good. Mild February, who sprinkled the naked boughs with delicate buds, and brought her wonted offering of early flowers, was not of more essential service than that rude, blustering boy, March, who though violent in his temper, was well intentioned and useful. April, a gentle, tender-hearted girl, wept his loss, yet cheered me with many a smile. June came crowned with roses, and sparkling in sun-beams, and laid up a store of costly ornaments for her luxuriant successors. But I cannot stay to enumerate the graces and good qualities of all my children. You, my poor December, dark in your complexion, and cold in your temper, greatly resemble my first-born January, with this difference, that he was most prone to anticipation, and you to reflection.

"If there should be any, who, upon hearing my dying lamentation, may feel regret that they have not treated me more kindly, I would beg leave to hint, that it is still possible to make some compensation for their past conduct, by rendering me, during my few remaining days, as much service as may yet be in their power: let them testify the sincerity of their sorrow by an immediate alteration in their behaviour. It would give me particular pleasure to see my only surviving child treated with respect let no one slight her offerings: she has a considerable part of my property still to dispose of, which, if well employed, will turn to good account. Not to mention the rest, there are four precious Sundays yet in her gift; it would cheer my last moments to know that these had been better prized than the past.

"It is very likely, at least after my decease, that many may reflect upon themselves for their misconduct towards me. To such I would leave it as my dying injunction, not to waste time in unavailing regret: all their wishes and repentance will not recal me to life. I shall never, never return! I would rather carnestly recommend to