last words, which were uttered emphatically, struck his attention.

"A wise man!" said he to his brother and sisters; "who is that, I wonder, that papa can be talking about ?” "Nobody that we know, you may be sure," replied Kate.-"No, but papa knows him, and I should like to know him very much," said Philip; and he began to conjecture what kind of a person this wise man must be. He thought of the seven wise men of Greece; but he did not imagine there were any of that sort in England. As soon as there was a pause in the conversation, he asked his papa what this wise man's name was, and where he lived. "He lives," replied his father, "not very far off; and his name is Johnson."

"Johnson! O, some relation to Dr. Johnson, no doubt," said Frederic. "That is more than I know," answered his father; "but if you are so curious to see a wise man, I will promise to take you all to call upon him to-morrow morning."

Philip and the rest thanked their papa for this promise; and very much pleased they were at the thought of it. The next morning the children talked much of their expected visit; and wondered they did not hear their father give orders for the chaise.

"How many miles off is it, papa ?" said Philip. "Not half a mile," said his father.

Philip. Not half a mile! Well now, I had no idea that there was, what one could call a wise man living any where here abouts.

Frederic. No more had I.

Julia. I think I know where he lives:-don't you remember that old-fashioned looking house, just off the common, with tall narrow windows, and a high wall all around it, where they say a very old gentleman lives all alone?-that is the place, I dare say.

Philip. I wonder whether he wears a long beard!

Kale. No, no; most likely nothing but a huge wig. Julia. A wig! no such thing! depend upon it he has his own white locks, waving about his temples.

Philip. We shall find him up to his elbows in old dusty books, I'll engage.

Frederic. Or perhaps with globes and glasses, and all sorts of apparatus.

Philip. He will not be very well pleased, I am afraid, to be interrupted in his studies by us.

Julia. For my part, I shall take care not to speak one word while we are in the room.

Kate. And so shall I.

Philip. I hope he will not ask us any questions!

Frederic. O, as to that, you may depend upon it he will not notice one of us; perhaps not so much as know we are there.

Kate. I am afraid I shall laugh.

Philip. Laugh! if you do though, we shall get turned out, every one of us, depend upon it.

On these remarks their papa made no comment: he only smiled occasionally; and at length bade them make ready to accompany him on his visit to the wise man. When they set off, Julia was much surprised that he passed the turning leading to the common, and kept straight on towards the town." Now I have no idea who in the world it can be," said she. When they entered the town, they looked at most of the principal houses as they passed, expecting to stop every instant. "Doctor Somebody;" said Philip, endeavouring to read the name on a brass plate,--" this is it, I dare say.' But no: his father passed on, and soon turned down a narrow street, where the dwellings were of an humbler description; and knocked at the door of a mean looking house. A plain, middle-aged man opened it, and courteously invited them to enter. "Papa has to call here first, for something," whispered the children to each other. He

ushered them into a small parlour, where his wife was sitting at needle-work; while three little girls, her daughters, were seated on a form before her, reading their lessons. The room was in perfect order; and the mother and her children were neatly dressed. The only decorations of the apartment were two or three maps ; and a few portraits of some of the old divines, and other pious ministers, on the wall.

:

The young folks listened to the conversation which their father entered into with these persons; and they quickly perceived (for these children were well taught, and could discriminate,) that they conversed sensibly; and that their father, although much their superior in education, regarded them with respect. After a few minutes thus spent, their papa told the master of the house that he would not detain him any longer from his employment; but that he had taken the liberty of bringing his children with him, in the hope that he would allow them to look on for a little time, while he was at work it would be, he said, both amusing and instructive to them, as they had never had an opportunity of seeing that operation before. To this request he most obligingly acceded; and, with a look of great good nature at the young folks, immediately conducted them to the uppermost room in the house, in which he carried on his business. It was a light airy apartment; and there was a pleasant view of the adjacent country from its long low window. The children were much interested in watching the process, and in listening to the intelligent explanation he gave them of his trade; for he was a very ingenious mechanic: and he told them many things which they had never heard before.

When their curiosity was a little satisfied, they began to look around the room, where their attention was attracted to a few shelves, containing his small library. Upon examining the titles of the books, they found that

several of them treated of subjects more or less connected with his own line of business. There were, however, a few of a more general nature, and such as the children were surprised to see in the possession of so plain a man. But the greater part of the collection were well-chosen books of divinity; with a Bible, which had the appearance of being well read. They now again listened to the stranger's discourse with their father; and were struck with the mild and pleasing expression of his countenance, when he was telling him how happily his hours passed in that solitary chamber.

"I often think, sir," said he, "that I cannot be sufficiently thankful that my calling is of a nature that allows me so much retirement, and opportunity for thinking so that while I am labouring for the meat that perishes, I am also able to seek after that which will endure to everlasting life. Indeed, sir," continued he, "I am a happy man. The cheerful hope of another life is surely enough to make a man unspeakably happy. In addition to this, God is pleased to give me many comforts to render this life pleasant to me. I have a wife like-minded with myself; and when my working hours are over, I want no other recreation than that of going down to her and our dear children, whom it is our delight to train up, as far as we are able, to wisdom and virtue. I have great pleasure in reading to her and to them such books as we possess: and thus we increase our little stock of knowledge, as opportunity allows. But, sir, though I mention these things, my happiness, I trust, does not depend upon them; but is fixed upon that good hope which sweetens comfort, and softens every trial."

The father and his children were pleased with their visit; which, for some time after they took leave, formed the subject of their conversation; until Philip, suddenly perceiving that they were on their return home, exclaimed," But, are not we going to see the wise man ?"

—" My dear,” said his father, "we have but just left him.". 1166 What, was that the wise man?" said all the children at once.

Father. That was the person of whom you heard me say last night, that he was a truly wise man. Philip. But, papa,-1 thought

Father. Well, what did you think?

Philip. Why, although he appears very good, and happy, and industrious, and all that, yet he certainly is not at all the kind of person we expected to see.

Frederic. No, not at all.

Father. I cannot help that: and I still think that what I said of him was perfectly correct. What kind of a

person did you expect to see?

Philip. Why, papa, we thought he would at least be a scholar, you know, with his head stuffed full of Latin and Greek; or a philosopher, or an author, or something of that sort.

Father. You mean, that you expected to see a learned man, or a clever man: but that was your own fault : I promised you no such thing, Are you not aware, children, that a man may be learned, or clever, or both, without being wise; and that a man may be wise who is neither the one nor the other?

Frederic. Yes, wise in some things.

Father. Wise in every thing with which he has to do. -Can you recollect, Frederic, that definition of wisdom we met with the other day?

Frederic. Something of this sort, was it not ?—that "wisdom consists in employing the best means for the attainment of the most important end."

Father. Very well. Then I think we have unquestionably seen a wise man this morning. You heard from himself the grand object of this good man's pursuit: and this must by every one be allowed to be the most important of all objects. He aims at nothing less than