your position, whatever it may be,-living in peace with God, and in charity with all mankind? If you are doing these things, or humbly and heartily desiring to do them, whether your coffer be full or your purse empty; whether you live in country or in town; in an airy hall of an unhealthy attic,-you have cause to be cheerful as a summer's day, and ought to rejoice as heartily as Old Humphrey among nightingales.

ON KNOWING WHEN TO STOP.

He who would be wise must be willing to receive instruction from all quarters; he must stoop for it, look for it, listen for it, read for it, and reflect for it. Practical wisdom embraces many points, and among them the two following requirements appear indispensable, namely, that we should understand when to go on, and know when to stop. If the latter of these valuable attainments be yours, reader, you have what many people stand in great need of; for I think it may truly be said, that in the manifold enterprises and undertakings of mankind, where twenty know how to go on, not more than one in the twenty knows when to stop.

Assuming that the above observation is true, I will venture to illustrate it in different ways, nothing doubting, that should my reader be in as good a temper while perusing my remarks, as I now feel myself to be in while writing them, he will derive from my paper some amusement, and, possibly, a little instruction.

An old tale tells us that, in days gone by, a certain knight-errant, perceiving a fair damsel on the brink of a fearful precipice, and believing her

to be in danger, urged on his charger to the rescue with such inconsiderate speed, that being utterly unable to arrest his wild career, horse, knight, and fair lady were rudely plunged together over the fatal precipice.

Without wasting time in investigating the correctness of this story, I will content myself in observing that it clearly sets forth the truth, that the best intentions in the world are not sufficient to protect us from the sad effects of rashness and inconsideration. Our knight knew when to go on, but he did not know when to stop. Our best, as well as our worst affections require restraint, and without it they may produce the most lamentable consequences.

"A poor woman complained to Mahmoud, Chan of Tartary, who conquered Persia in the tenth century, against a person who had murdered her only son, in the province of Yrac, in Persia. How would you have me do justice at such a distance?' said Mahmoud. Why did you conquer countries which you cannot govern at such a distance?' replied the unfortunate mother."

This caustic rejoinder of the broken-hearted woman ought to have gone to the heart of the ambitious monarch, who knew well enough when to go on for his own glory, but not when to stop

for the good of others.

Whether Mahmoud profited by the widow's reply, or not, we cannot say; but if you and I, reader, get a lesson from it, the record of this popular anecdote will not have been made in vain.

But perhaps it may be said, "What is the use of going so high and haranguing about knightserrant and sultans? Why not come down to the level of common life?" There is reason and good sense in such an objection. I will at once, then, descend from my aspiring altitudes, and bring forward a more familiar illustration.

A good-tempered man, at the head of a few friends in a crowd, was endeavouring to make his way to the door of a public room. 'Push, friends," said he, "for we are going on right.” They did push, and in so resolute a manner, that he soon found himself as far beyond the door as he before had been from it, so that it became necessary to get back again. After a little jostling to and fro, finding himself getting nearer the open door, he once more cried out, "Push again, friends, for we are going on right now." Thus encouraged, they pressed forward with even more determination than before; indeed so much so, that in a little time he found himself in the very same spot that he had occupied at first, 'Ah, my friends!" said he, "if we knew how

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to stop half as well as we do how to go on, we should have been through the door half an hour ago."

Whether our intention be to enter a crowded door, or to achieve any other object, something more than ardour will be wanting to secure our end. An arrow may fail with overforce, and again and again have I seen a greyhound at full speed fling himself over the hare he intended to catch. The boy in the fable, cutting open his goose to get at the golden eggs; and the bear, who smashed the face of his friend in defending him from a fly, are both instances of intemperate and irrepressible eagerness.

This valuable attainment of knowing when to stop applies very forcibly to epicures, and all who sinfully misuse their natural appetites. "A little starveling rogue of a mouse had, with much pushing application, made his way through a small hole in a corn-basket, where he stuffed and crammed so plentifully, that when he would have retired the way he came, he found himself too plump, with all his endeavours, to accomplish it. A weasel, who stood at some distance, and had been diverting himself with beholding the vain efforts of the little fat thing, called to him and said, 'Hark ye, honest friend! if you have a mind to make your escape, there is but one way