He goes on blowing his bubbles till he has had enough of stormy petrels, glittering icebergs, sharks and shore-crabs, whales and walruses; sea-weed, sword-fish, and coral rocks; and then wrecks himself on an uninhabited island, that he may give, on his return home, a wonderful account of his dangers and his toils.

If he were the king of mighty Babylon departed, surrounded with his wise men, Chaldeans, soothsayers, and astrologers, they would give him, no doubt, a goodly interpretation of his dreams; but being only a poor friendless lad, he cannot hope for that advantage. No matter! when twenty summers and winters have rolled over him, he finds himself as far as ever from the ocean, retailing snuff and tobacco in a country village.

Such are the gay dreams of youth, and most of us have indulged in one or other of them. I know one who has indulged in them all! ay more than all! and what was the end of his sunny visions? What has become of the gleams of glory that dazzled his youthful fancy in by-gone days? Let the tear that has fallen on the paper on which I note down these observations, be his reply. The bubbles of his childhood are burst; the fond dreams of his youth and his manhood are passed away; he has seen the hollowness of them all, and has been made willing to exchange

the empty dreams of time for the realities of eternity.

If he knows anything of his own heart, there is nothing in the honours, the riches, and the wisdom of this world, that for one moment he would put in comparison with the well-grounded hope of everlasting life. Put together all the renown that mankind has to bestow; pile up the crowns and sceptres of the earth; heap high its gold, its costly gems, and glittering diadems, and they will be as dust in the balance, if weighed against the hope of eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord.

ON DESIGNS FOR PICTURES.

I WANT to address a few words to the poor and aged followers of the Redeemer.

If, therefore, you are old, and your coat be a little seedy and threadbare, or your red or brown cloak somewhat the worse for wear; if poverty be your lot, and trial, in one shape or other, your daily food, you are the very person with whom I wish to talk, that is, if, as a Zion-bound pilgrim, your eyes are looking to the cross of the Redeemer.

Aged people should help one another along the rugged roads of life, when they have the opportunity, and a word in season is often a cordial to the heart let me try to interest you for a moment. Are you fond of pictures? Most people are -the child of seven, and the man and woman of seventy. I am as fond of them now as I was when for the first time in my life I opened the pages of the "Pilgrim's Progress," and gazed on Christian with the burden falling from his back as he came up to the hillock on which the cross was standing.

It has often struck me, that, had I been a

painter, I should have been very happy in the Ay," you will say,

choice of my subjects.

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"there spoke the pride of Old Humphrey.” Perhaps it may be so; but you shall have a sample of some of my designs, and then you can judge for yourself. What think you of this?

An Old Man and Death wrestling for a few grains of sand in an old hour-glass.

It is from the life, as most of my sketches are. See how the grim skeleton points his dart at the most vital parts of his enemy; and see, too, how the old man grasps the bony arm of his opponent to stay his stroke. They are grappling as though this and another world were the stakes, instead of a few grains of sand in an old hour-glass. How is it with you, my aged friends? Does this picture hit you off, think you? Is there any likeness in it? Are you clutching the hour-glass of your old age, to secure the few grains of time it contains? Are you struggling with death as with an enemy that would rob you of your dearest treasures? or are you, like Simeon of old, ready to stretch out your hands towards heaven, and say, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation?” Here is another :

Hope and Faith opening the Doors of Heaven.

This would make a fine picture; Hope smiling, with her anchor beside her, "that anchor of the soul which is both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil ;" and Faith clinging to the cross whereon once hung the Redeemer. Both of them should be seen opening the golden gates through which a flood of glory is pouring wide, affording us a peep at heaven while yet we are upon the earth.

I hope that this design suits your taste, and, if not, I trust the next will:

Trial and Affliction taking away a purse of gold, and leaving in its place a bag of diamonds.

An odd design this; but, if well painted, you would call it a capital good one. The poor patient, when he lost his gold, thought it was all over with him; but see how hopeful and how happy he looks now; he has just discovered the diamonds that have been left him.

How many a thoughtless prodigal has spent his substance in riotous living, till God in mercy has stretched him on a sick-bed, his strength has declined, and the cordials and comforts, and doctor's bills, have taken away the remainder of his money, and he considers himself lost; but at last he discovers himself to be richer than ever, "Tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope." "No chastening