THE HOPE OF THE HYPOCRITE. HYPOCRISY is a lie-a profession to be what a man is not, and seeking to be treated as if he were what he seems to be. It has always a reference to others. A man living by himself, on a desert island, would not and could not be a hypocrite. He has none to deceive, none whose good graces he can with God and eternity alone, who Reader! What sayest thou? Hast attempt to cultivate under false pre- ON WEEK-DAY ORDINANCES OF rate. RELIGION. ONE argument for attending divine Never put tences. He has no motive to endeavour to practise deception upon himself, were the thing practicable, and still less upon his Creator. It may, as in the case of religion, have a reference to God; but it is on man the hypocrite seeks to opeHe wishes to pass with men for that which he is not, and for that which he knows he is not; and by managing matters well, he succeeds to command the confidence of his neighbours, and thus he travels on to eternity, blessing himself on his having carried his point. Many things may have prompted him to this course; it may have been necessary to the ends of friendship, or of love, or of business, or of profession; and in any, or either, or all of these, the hypocrite may have gained the thing he sought for. So far, all is well, and if the matter were to end there, the party might be congratulated on having carried his point; but it cannot thus end. There is another party concerned, and another place involved. Here the terrible question of Job pre-into the spirit of the world. His lansents itself: "What is the hope of the guage may be, "There is no command hypocrite, though he hath gained, for meeting on such a day." This is when God taketh away his soul ?" true; nor are we commanded to hear This event has broken up his system two sermons on the Sabbath, but to of delusion and deception, and wholly keep it holy. The objections which changed his position and relations to backsliders make to week-day ordihis fellow-creatures. He has now done nances are never made on a bed of with earth and man, and has to do sickness. No; they are then recol The lected as things which, having been neglected, render their conversion doubtful. In such seasons their selfreproach and promises prove that conscience has been opposed. The effects of such declension are often visible, relative to other duties. Is it a husband that pleads excuses? Do not his wife, children, and servants discern a declension in reading his Bible, family religion, profitable conversation, if not closet duties? Is not the temper more irritable, and are not worldly cares prevalent ? The duty of ministers is to attend divine ordinances in season and out of season, 2 Tim. iv. 2. Does not this require of hearers the same duties? Can ministers preach without hearers? Does it not imply that hearers need repeated and frequent exhortations? Remains of Cooke. CARDS. good sense, a liberal education, and a taste for mental improvement disqualify a person for the enjoyment of the childish tattle of the card-table. Pernicious game! to enjoy which persons must sacrifice the duty and pleasure of improving their minds by useful conversation, must abuse their precious time, and bury their talents, to engage in peevish debates, petty wrangles, low chatter, and the most silly triumphs. The conversation of such persons, at best, is insignificant; often it is composed of envious falsehoods and profane sarcasms, or of unchaste wit and false intimations of absent characters; and sometimes, to make sport and enliven the game, the person who is the greatest liar and the greatest fool is the fiddle of the company.-Remains of Cooke. SWEARING CURED. "ONCE, when I was returning from Ireland," says Rowland Hill, "I found myself much annoyed by the reprobate conduct of the captain and mate, who were both sadly given to the scandalous habit of swearing. First the captain swore at the mate-then the mate swore at the captain-then they swore at the wind; when I called to them in a strong voice for fair play. 'Stop! stop!' said I; 'if you please, gentlemen, let us have fair play: it's my turn now.' 'At what is it your turn, THE Spectator gives us the following anecdote of Mr. Locke. Being invited to dine with the then Lords Halifax, Anglesey, and Shaftesbury, directly after dinner, instead of conversation, the cards were called for, when the bad or good success produced the usual passions of gaming. Mr. Locke retiring to a window, and writing, my lord Anglesey desired to know what he was writing. "Why, my lords," answered he, "I could not sleep last night for the pleasure and improvement I ex-pray ?' said the captain. At swearpected from the conversation of the greatest men of the age." This so sensibly stung them, that they gladly compounded to throw their cards into the fire, if he would his paper, and so a conversation ensued fit for such persons.- -Spectator, No. 533. ing,' I replied. Well, they waited and waited, until their patience was exhausted, and then wanted me to make haste and take my turn. I told them, however, that I had a right to take my own time, and swear at my own convenience. To this the captain replied, From this anecdote it appears that with a laugh, Perhaps you don't mean to take your turn.' "Pardon me, cap-me to swear the first oath in this ship. tain,' I answered, but I do, as soon as No man on board must swear an oath I can find the good of doing so.' I did before I do: I am determined to swear not hear another oath on the voyage." the first oath on board. What say "My lads," said a captain, when you, my lads? will you grant me this about to take command of a ship, favour?" The men stared, and stood reading his orders to the crew on the for a moment quite at a loss what to quarter-deck, "there is one law I am say. "They were taken," one said, determined to make, and I shall insist "all aback." "They were brought up," on its being kept. It is a favour, in- said another, "all standing." The deed, I will ask of you, and which, appeal seemed so reasonable, and the as a British officer, I expect will be manner of the captain so kind and granted by a crew of British seamen. prepossessing, that a general burst What say you, my lads? are you will-from the ship's company answered, ing to grant your new captain one "Ay, ay, sir," with their usual three favour?" "Ay, ay," cried all hands; cheers. Swearing was thus wholly "let's know what it is, sir." "Well, abolished in the ship. my lads, it is this: that you must allow The School of Death. DEATH BED OF DR. JOHNSON. | curtains of death close around his We find an impressive account of the last scenes of Dr. Johnson's life, in Mrs. Knight's new Memoir of Hannah More. Our readers will be interested in the extract. How august and solemn are the closing scenes of this dying man! He is styled the Moralist. Justice, truth, virtue-rough, unhewn, without chisel or polish, were the pillars of his character. At all times, and in all places, he was loyal to his convictions of duty, generous, yet plain spoken to his fellows, reverent toward God. Rich in knowledge, he abused it not; rich in thought, he scattered its treasures like dew-drops; rich in speech it was like the golden harvest; in the wide grasp of his clear, calm, comprehensive mind, he every where discovered a moral government, and recognized a righteous governor his conscience, unseared by passion or self-indulgence, spoke solemnly, and was heard: the fear of God was upon him: but now, as the "The approach of death is dreadful," he exclaims. "I am afraid to think on that which I know I cannot avoid. It is in vain to look round and round for that help which cannot be had, yet we hope and hope, and fancy that he who has lived to-day, may live to-morrow. No wise man will be contented to die, if he thinks he is going into a state of punishment. Nay, no wise man will be contented to die, if he thinks he is to fall into annihilation; for however unhappy any man's existence may be, yet he would rather have it than not exist at all. No; there is no rational principle by which a man can die contented, but a trust in the mercy of God, through the merits of Jesus Christ." And yet, when one said to him in an hour of gloomy despondency, "You forget the merits of your Redeemer," he replied with deep solemnity, "I do not forget the merits of my Redeemer, but my Redeemer has said He will set some on his right hand and some on his left." "What man," he asks, with mournful distrust," can say that his obedience has been such as he could approve of in another, or that his repentance has not been such as to require being repented of?" "Remember what you have done by your writings in defence of virtue and truth," urged his friends. "Admitting all you say to be true," answered the dying hero, "how can I tell when I have done enough?" An awful question, who can answer * * * * viour; thus also communicating to him that peace which he had found the world could not give, and which, when earthly things were fading from his view, was to fill the void, and dissipate the gloom even of the shadow of death. The man whose intellectual powers had awed all around him, was in turn made to tremble, when the period arrived, when all knowledge is useless and vanishes away, except the knowledge of the true God and of Jesus Christ whom he has sent. To attain this knowledge, this giant in knowledge must become a little child. The man looked up to as a prodigy of wisdom, must become a fool, that he might be wise." "For some time before his death, all his fears were calmed and absorbed by the prevalence of his faith and his trust in the merit and propitiation of Jesus Christ," testifies Dr. Brocklesby. "My dear doctor, believe a dying man," exclaimed Johnson, "there is no salvation but in the Lamb of God." "How delighted should I be," said Hannah More," to hear the dying diecourse of this great and good man, especially now that faith has subdued his fears." it? At last he described the kind of clergyman he wished to see. Mr. Winstanley was named, and a note was despatched requesting his attendance to the sick man's chamber. Through ill-health and nervous apprehension, the clergyman could reply only in writing. "Permit me, therefore," ran the note, "to write what I should wish| to say, were I present. I can easily conceive what would be the subjects of your inquiry. I can conceive that the views of yourself have changed with your condition, and that on the near approach of death, what you considered mere peccadilloes, have risen into mountains of guilt, while your best actions COME, and sit near me; let me lean have dwindled into nothing. On which-on you," said Wilberforce to a friend a soever side you look, you see only positive transgression, or defective obedi ence; and hence, in self-despair, are eagerly asking, 'What shall I do to be saved?' I say to you in the language of the Baptist, Behold the Lamb of God."" "Does he say 80?" exclaimed the anxious listener. "Read it again, Sr John." Upon the second reading, Dr. Johnson declared, "I must see that man; write again to him." A second letter was the reply, enlarging and enforcing upon the subject of the first: "These, together with the conversation of a pious friend, Mr. Latrobe, appear to have been blessed of God," continues one in a letter to Hannah More, "in bringing this great man to a renunciation of self, and a simple reliance on Jesus as his Sa DYING WORDS OF WILBER- few minutes before his death. After- MARY CHEETHAM was born December tolerable proficiency. To books she was much attached, and read all that came in her way, that were suitable or proper for her, storing her memory and enlarging her mind, and was always inquisitive to know the utmost of what her friends could tell her whenever they had been abroad in the busy world; and happy she was when she could obtain an addition to her stock of ancient lore concerning persons or things of bygone days, and the adven 31st, 1881. For the first half of 1832 her life appeared so doubtful, that all who saw her pronounced her doom to be an early grave. Contrary to expectation, she won her way through fits and sickness to health and strength, and, with the exception of a protracted infancy, there was little to mark her different from others of her age. Infancy passed away, and childhood, with its joys and sorrows, with its simple pleasures and brief pains, succeeded,tures of those who had preceded her and her mind began to unfold, and her perceptions and faculties to increase and expand, till she knew herself an inhabitant of this world-an associate with fellow-mortals, and a partaker with them of the good and evil that happeneth to all. And now, beginning to act her part on the stage of life, we must refer to her temper and disposition. Her temper was sanguine, her disposition affectionate. She could not well brook restraint from things on which her mind was set; but her anger was short, and she preferred the love of her friends to the indulging resentment, or grieving for things denied or improper for her. Passing on in life, we find her at her book or needle, at both of which, with little schooling, she made in the track of life, in their pilgrimage through the world. One trait strongly marked her character-her desire to be reckoned, to be present in every movement of her friends. Her parents and friends had her love unreservedly, and she could not bear to be overlooked in the most trifling things; she was childish for her age, but it flowed from affection. Not being accustomed to join much in promiscuous company, she was not forward either in speech or action, in comparison with many. She could, however, relish the sports of her companions, if she came behind them in activity and strength. It was at home, however, that she was most unreserved. At the fireside she was a pleasant companion; happy herself, she would have |