they meet with chagrin and disappointment, where they expected to have found nothing but satisfaction or tranquillity.

I do not say that those who have retired from the bustle of affairs cannot employ, and employ faithfully, "the fragments" both of their health and their vigour. They have certainly much in their power, if they consecrate their leisure to real duties, and keep their talents occupied as they ought to be; much which relates to the discipline of their own minds; much which can be done in domestic life, for the advantage of the old or of the young, to whom they can give their attention or their time; much by which they can be useful to those whose characters they can influence, whose hands they can strengthen; whom they can assist in their difficulties, or comfort in their sickness, or furnish with the means either of prosperity or of religion.

Those who apply the decline of life to such purposes as these, do not retire in vain from the bustle of the world. If they embrace heartily the opportunities of usefulness they still possess, nothing is lost which they are capable of attaining. That which they do in secret for the glory of God, or for the advantage of their fellow mor'tals, is sanctified by the prayer of faith, and shall be accounted to them as good service in "the day of Christ."

But though I say this, I have no hesitation to add, that those who abide by their active occupations from a sense of duty, and who employ the last portion of their talents where they spent their vigour, have much better reason to expect that

both their usefulness and their personal comfort shall be continued as long as they live.

No good man's conscience will suggest to him that he ought to become weary of his labours. He who delights in the service on which his duty or his usefulness depends, can have no wish to relinquish it. He is anxious to persevere in the duties which he can in any degree accomplish, even when he is conscious of his decline. He looks up to God, to whom he thinks he shall soon return; and though he knows that his summons to die cannot be distant, it continues to be the first wish of his heart that he may be found employing the last portions of his health and life in the duties of his proper place.

A man who is able to preserve this happy temper of mind to the end, has a far better prospect, than other habits could afford him, of possessing the vigour of his faculties to his last hour; and therefore of extending his labours and his usefulness far beyond the ordinary term of human activity. He hears the voice of his Master, urging his duties and his fidelity on his conscience, till his strength is gone: and he does not lose the impression of it till the last spark of life expires. SIR HENRY WELLWOOD.

The most engaging charms of youth and beauty appeared in all her form. p. 223.

Chiswick:

PRINTED BY AND FOR C. WHITTINGHAM,

COLLEGE HOUSE.

ELEGANT EXTRACTS.

PART II.

Tales, Allegories, &c.

MORAL AND SERIOUS.

THE HERMIT OF THE ATHYRAS.

WHILE the seat of empire was yet at Byzantium, and that city was the centre, not only of dominion, but of learning and politeness, a certain hermit had fixed his residence in a cell, on the banks of the Athyras, at the distance of about ten miles from the capital. The spot was retired, although so near the great city, and was protected as well by woods and precipices as by the awful reverence with which, at that time, all ranks beheld the character of a recluse. Indeed, the poor old man, who tenanted the little hollow, at the summit of a crag, beneath which the Athyras rolls its impetuous torrent, was not famed for the severity of his penances, or the strictness of his mortifications. That he was either studious, or protracted his devotions to a late hour, was evident, for his lamp was often