rule is to get out of bed soon after awaking in the morning. This at first may appear too early, for the debilitated require more sleep than the healthy; but rising early will gradually prolong the sleep on the succeeding night, till the quantity the patient enjoys is equal to his demand for it. Lying late is not only hurtful by the relaxation it occasions, but also by occupying that part of the day at which exercise is most beneficial.' The Lord Chancellor More rose at four in the morning. Milton left his bed about the same hour; so did Bishop Burnet the historian. Sir Matthew Hale, when a student, devoted sixteen out of twenty-four hours to study. Dr Parkhurst rose at five o'clock all the year round; and Archdeacon Paley, and Drs Franklin and Priestley, all recommended and adopted the practice during the greatest portion of their lives.

Early rising implies early going to bed. Late hours are a ruin to health and good looks. A good hour for retiring is ten o'clock, or a little later, so as to be fully asleep before eleven. The practice of early retiring to rest and early rising, at least helps materially not only to insure health, but to improve the worldly circumstances, and afford means for increasing in general knowledge. Lolling long in bed, in a wakeful state, may be pleasant, but unless the weather be particularly cold, better rise and set either to work or study, than nourish so odious a habit.

Law, a writer of works of piety, objects to late rising on moral and Christian grounds. A few of his remarks may not be out of place. 'I take it for granted that every Christian who is in health is up early in the morning. For it is much more reasonable to suppose a person is up early because he is a Christian, than because he is a labourer, or a tradesman, or a servant. We conceive an abhorrence of a man that is in bed when he should be at his labour. We cannot think good of him who is such a slave to drowsiness as to neglect his business for it. Let this, therefore, teach us to conceive how odious we must

appear to God if we are in bed, shut up in sleep, when we should be praising God, and are such slaves to drowsiness as to neglect our devotions for it.

'Sleep is such a dull, stupid state of existence, that, even among mere animals, we despise them most which are most drowsy. He, therefore, that chooses to enlarge the slothful indolence of sleep, rather than be early at his devotions, chooses the dullest refreshment of the body before the noblest enjoyments of the soul. He chooses that state which is a reproach to mere animals before that exercise which is the glory of angels.

'Besides, he that cannot deny himself this drowsy indulgence, is no more prepared for prayer when he is up, than he is prepared for fasting or any other act of self-denial. He may, indeed, more easily read over a form of prayer than he can perform these duties; but he is no more disposed for the spirit of prayer than he is disposed for fasting. For sleep thus indulged gives a softness to all our tempers, and makes us unable to relish anything but what suits an idle state of mind, as sleep does. So that a person who is a slave to this idleness, is in the same temper when he is up. Everything that is idle or sensual pleases him; and everything that requires trouble or self-denial is hateful to him, for the same reason that he hates to rise.

'It is not possible for an epicure to be truly devout. He must renounce his sensuality before he can relish the happiness of devotion. Now, he that turns sleep into an idle indulgence, does as much to corrupt his soul, to make it a slave to bodily appetites, as an epicure does. It does not disorder his health, as notorious acts of intemperance do; but, like any more moderate course of indulgence, it silently, and by smaller degrees, wears away the spirit of religion, and sinks the soul into dulness and sensuality.

'Self-denial of all kinds is the very life and soul of piety; but

he that has not so much of it as to be able to be early at his prayers, cannot think that he has taken up his cross and is following Christ. What conquest has he got over himself? What right hand has he cut off? What trials is he prepared for? What sacrifice is he ready to offer to God, who cannot be so cruel to himself as to rise to prayer at such a time as the drudging part of the world are content to rise to their labour?

'Some people will not scruple to tell you that they indulge themselves in sleep because they have nothing to do, and that if they had any business to rise to, they would not lose so much of their time in sleep. But they must be told that they mistake the matter; that they have a great deal of business to do; they have a hardened heart to change; they have the whole spirit of religion to get. For surely he that thinks he has nothing to do, because nothing but his prayers want him, may justly be said to have the whole spirit of religion to seek.

'You must not, therefore, consider how small a fault it is to rise late, but how great a misery it is to want the spirit of religion, and to live in such softness and idleness as make you incapable of the fundamental duties of Christianity. If I were to desire you not to study the gratification of your palate, I would not insist upon the sin of wasting your money, though it is a great one; but I would desire you to renounce such a way of life, because it supports you in such a state of sensuality as renders you incapable of the fundamental duties of Christianity.

'For the same reason, I do not insist much upon the sin of wasting your time in sleep, though it be a great one; but I desire you to renounce this indulgence, because it gives a softness and idleness to your soul, and is so contrary to that lively, zealous, watchful, self-denying spirit, which was not only the spirit of Christ and his apostles, and the spirit of all the saints and martyrs that have ever been among men, but must be the spirit of all those who would not sink into the common corruption of the world.

'Here, therefore, we must fix our charge against this practice. We must blame it, not as having this or that particular evil, but as a general habit, that extends itself through our whole spirit, and supports a state of mind that is wholly wrong. It is contrary to piety; not as accidental slips or mistakes in life are contrary to it, but in such a manner as an ill state of body is contrary to health. On the other hand, if you were to rise early every morning, as an instance of self-denial, as a method of renouncing indulgence, as a mean of redeeming your time and fitting your spirit for prayer, you would soon find the advantage. This method, though it seems but a small circumstance, might be a mean of great piety. It would constantly keep it in your mind, that softness and idleness are the bane of religion. It would teach you to exercise power over yourself, and to renounce other pleasures and tempers that war against the soul. And what is so planted and watered will certainly have an increase from God.'

'Idler, why lie down to die?

Better rub than rust.

Hark! the lark sings in the sky,

Die when die you must!

Day is waking, leaves are shaking;
Better rub than rust.

In the grave there's sleep enough;
Better rub than rust:

Death, perhaps, is hunger-proof,
Die when die you must;

Men are mowing, breezes blowing;
Better rub than rust.

He who will not work, shall want;
Nought for nought is just-
Won't do must do when he can't;

Better rub than rust.

Bees are flying, sloth is dying;

Better rub than rust.'

EBENEZER ELLIOTT.

THE TOILET.

E

VERY one requires to clean and dress himself, and to do so is the proper business of the toilet. How far the decoration of the person may be carried, depends on taste and other circumstances; but it may be assumed as a correct principle, that whatever renders the external appearance of an individual more agreeable than it would otherwise be, is allowable. Some persons may have a fancy to be slovens, and to despise ordinary customs, but all such crotchets are unworthy of imitation. Every fashion in attire may be safely followed that is not positively ridiculous or injurious to health.

Cleanliness is the first duty of the toilet. All acknowledge this as a truth; but there are differences of opinion as to the degree to which cleanliness may be carried. In proportion as we ascend in the scale of society, a regard for cleanliness is more conspicuous. A well-bred man is punctiliously clean and neat in his person. He has frequent ablutions in the cold or hot bath-probably he uses the sponge-bath every morning; he is particular in shaving, and in washing his face, teeth, and hands, every morning on rising. Nothing could induce him to breakfast before performing these important offices of the toilet; for a neglect of them would render him exceedingly uncomfortable, and he would suffer in his own esteem. Then, he perhaps washes his hands again before going out; once more he washes his face and hands when dressing for dinner; and last of all, he repeats the washing of face, teeth, and hands before going to bed. In short, among the higher classes of society, there is