not owing to the absence of the means or opportunity of knowing, but to the absence of the needed labour and effort to know. Well may we therefore say, in the words of Dr. Channing, "God be thanked for books."

The Rev. Dr. Vaughan, at the close of a lecture on Persia, which he delivered in London, said: "May I be allowed to make a few observations relative to myself? I well remember, when I was very young, possessing for the first time a guinea. I remember, too, that this circumstance cost me no little perplexity and anxiety. As I passed along the streets, the fear of losing my guinea induced me frequently to take it out of my pocket to look at it. First I put it in one pocket, and then I took it out and put it in another. After a while I took it out and put it in the second pocket, and then placed it in another, really perplexed what to do with it. At length my attention was arrested by a book auction. I stepped in and looked about me. First one lot was put up, and then another, and sold to the highest bidder. At last I ventured to the table just as the auctioneer was putting up 'The History of the World' in two large folio volumes. I instantly thrust my hand into my pocket and began turning over my guinea, considering all the while whether I had money enough to buy the lot. The biddings proceeded. At last I ventured to bid too. 'Halloo, my little man!' said the auctioneer; what, not content with less than the world!' This remark greatly confused me, and drew the attention of the whole company towards me, who, seeing me anxious to possess the books, refrained

from bidding against me; and so 'the World' was knocked down to me at a very moderate price. How to get those huge books home was the next consideration. The auctioneer offered to send them; but I, not knowing what sort of creatures auctioneers were, determined to take them myself. So, after the assistant had tied them up, I marched out of the room with the heavy volumes upon my shoulder, like Samson with the gates of Gaza, amidst the smiles of all present. When I reached my home, after the servant had opened the door the first person I met was my now sainted mother. 'My dear boy,' said she, 'what have you got there? I thought you would not keep your guinea long.'—' Do not be angry, mother,' said I, throwing them down on the table; 'I have bought the world for nine shillings!' This was on Saturday, and I well remember sitting up till it was well-nigh midnight turning over this' History of the World.' These books became my delight, and were carefully read through and through. As I grew older, I at length became a Christian, and my love of books naturally led me to desire to become a Christian minister. To the possession of these books I attribute, in a great measure, any honours in connection with literature that have been added to my name. I have not mentioned this anecdote," continued Dr. Vaughan, "to gratify any foolish feeling, but to encourage in those young persons I see before me that love of literature which has afforded me such unspeakable pleasure, -pleasure which I would not have been without for all the riches of the Indies."

XV.

Friends and Companions.

"Much beautiful, and excellent, and fair
Was seen beneath the sun; but nought was seen
More beautiful, or excellent, or fair

Than face of faithful friend, fairest when seen
In darkest day: and many sounds were sweet,
Most ravishing and pleasant to the ear;
But sweeter none than voice of faithful friend-
Sweet always, sweetest heard in loudest storm.'

AN has been defined to be a gregarious
animal; happy only in the society of his
fellows, and miserable when compelled to

M

be alone. Until Eve dawned upon Adam's sight, all the beauties and charms of the garden of Eden were insufficient to satisfy the natural cravings of his heart; he found that it was not good to be alone. This experience has been realized and confirmed in the lives of all who have ever lived. Whatever advantages solitude may have,-and the habit of retirement for thought and self-communion must be highly commended, its constant practice cannot but have a prejudicial effect upon the mind, inducing a morbid, unhealthy, misanthropic feeling and life. That companionship and association with our fellows is natural,

is a law of our being, is seen in the attractions and developments of childhood; and that which is natural in early life is not less natural in mature age. And just as early friendships leave an impress upon after life, companionship and friendship mould and stereotype character in middle life. "Show me your company and I will tell you what you are," is an old saying and a true one. The copy-head, "Evil communications corrupt good manners," is not less true. Fielding, in his rough way, says truthfully, "Wicked companions invite us to hell." Augustine said, "Bad company is like a nail driven into a post, which, after the first and second blow, may be drawn out with little difficulty; but being once driven up to the head, the pincers cannot take hold to draw it out; then it can only be done by the destruction of the wood." "We should ever have it fixed in our memories," said Blair, “that by the character of those whom we choose for our friends our own is likely to be formed, and will certainly be judged of by the world." The good Sir

Matthew Hale said: "There is a certain magic or charm in company; for it will assimilate and make you like to them by much conversation with them. If they be good company, it is a great means to make you good or confirm you in goodness; but if they be bad, it is twenty to one but they will infect and corrupt you."

The best men, the men owning the best temperaments, are the most easily influenced for good or evil. The heart gleeful and imitative, that loves and wants to be loved, yearning to give and to receive, is easily

tempted and readily yields. It recovers with difficulty, and with shame, and mortification, and remorse, where it recovers at all; and in multitudes of instances it goes little by little steadily downward. Some of the finest intellects and brightest prospects, in instances that are innumerable, have been destroyed by yielding to the temptations of fascinating companions. To write the history of such instances would be to fill the world with books. When it was customary to allow culprits before execution to make "last dying speeches and confessions," almost in every instance the unfortunate and sinning wretches made the confession that bad companions had led them to the crime for which they were about to suffer. The myriads who have devoted their lives to drinking and gaming habits have ascribed their wreck and downfall, not so much to the love of drink and mere play as to the love of company and the attractive temptation presented by bad companions.

But friends and companions we must have, or life would become insupportable. Wise companionship is not merely of value in enabling hours and days to pass pleasantly, but as an incentive and an encouragement to noble and ennobling pursuits. Emerson says: Our chief want in life is somebody who shall make us do what we can. This is the service of a friend. With him we are easily great. There is a sublime attraction in him to whatever virtue is in us. How he flings wide the doors of existence! What questions we ask of him! what an understanding we have! how few words are needed!" The same thoughtful writer says: