ment with promise"-I mean honouring | his aged parent. But in this and in some other particulars, Arthur, I believe, thinks differently. It happened that when Arthur, in company with his father and aunt, last spent a few days here, I was engaged to visit the Welfords. My guests accompanied me. To my friend Longley and to myself the visit was highly agreeable; but to Miss Longley and her nephew it furnished matter for many contemptuous remarks: and during the remainder of their stay with us, the name of Welford could never be mentioned without calling forth, from either the aunt or nephew, some such exclamation as, 'How extremely odd!" Did you ever see any thing so odd?'-Among the many things they found to censure, they were absolutely indignant when they learned that they had sat at table with an operative! Surely,' they thought, if Mr. Welford had been fortunate, and raised himself in life, he might have been content with showing kindness to his father at a distance, without attempting to introduce him into society.' Poor things! as if there were no society but that which is formed on their factitious model. I believe Miss Longley has not yet forgiven me for the degradation to which she accuses me of having exposed her; and I suppose she has imbued her nephew with such horror of a repetition of the offence as induced him to hasten his departure before the visit of yesterday."

"I know now," said Frank, "what Arthur meant when he asked us, after we called at Mr. Welford's last week, whether we saw the old pauper."

"Shame upon his upstart pride!" exclaimed my uncle; "he despises worth and independence to which he is not likely to attain; and his silly aunt encourages rather than corrects his follies."

"Yes, that she does," said Frank; "for all his contemptuous remarks were given second hand from his aunt.

I recollected his having asked us if we saw the gardener's labourers, and whether we did not greatly admire the Miss Dowdys, as his aunt called them.

But my uncle reminded us that we were getting into a strain of speaking which he could not approve. He regretted some sad mistakes in Arthur's education, which he feared would have an unhappy influence on his character through life. "Had he," said my uncle, "been as highly favoured as the young Welfords, he might have proved as

honourable and valuable a member of society as they bid fair to become."

Of course we forbore to make any further remarks; but Frank and myself exchanged glances as uncle uttered this disparaging sentiment; for Arthur had declared that it was impossible for boys educated at home ever to be fit to appear in society, and asserted, that niggardliness alone induced a gentleman, who could afford to place his sons at a public school, to keep them at home. Hence he affected to pity and despise the young Welfords for having "such odd sort of parents." What would have been his astonishment had he heard himself brought into unfavourable comparison with them!

No farther reference was made to Arthur and his aunt; but as the conversation about "odd sort of people" was kept up, my uncle made the following observations:

"The vain and silly are apt to call those very odd sort of people who do not make as much display as they can possibly afford to do. Welford might easily have laid out twice as much money on the erection of his house, without making it one whit more commodious or comfortable: he might keep twice as large an establishment of servants, and bring up his children in ignorance and helplessness as to common things; and those who would have done so think it odd that he does not. It is to the indolent and frivolous very odd indeed that any one should choose to work who is not obliged to do it. But from extensive observation and experience, my worthy neighbours know that work of every kind is most regularly and satisfactorily accomplished when each one engaged in the performance fully, and was not oppressively employed. On this basis, therefore, they have formed the scale of their domestic establishment. They know also that well directed activity is essential to real enjoyment, and they consider it an important part of education to cultivate a love for useful employment, and to give their children such knowledge and aptitude in common things as will qualify them to take care of property, and manage an establishment, which may, amidst the fluctuations of this changing world become yet more absolutely needful to them. Each of the Miss Welfords, in alternate weeks, is employed an hour or two each morning in the superintendence of domestic affairs; and is accustomed to consider

itself, or by being attired for the time in a dress suitable to the occasion. Thus, without sacrificing an atom of real gentility or accomplishment, they are acquiring solid, valuable qualifications for wives and heads of families, of which the mere ignorant and slatternly fine lady is altogether destitute. Their brothers, at the same time, are acquiring not merely a knowledge of the technical phrases of botany and other sciences, but a practical aptitude at planning and carrying into effect operations with which these sciences are connected. It was by such knowledge well employed that their father rose to his honourable standing; and he justly considers that it would be employing his prosperity in a manner most unjust to society and most injurious to his children, if he suffered it to become the occasion of leading them to pass lives of lounging idleness, trifling pursuits, or giddy dissipation. Í need not say to you that these lads find more real recreation in cultivating and arranging their flowerbeds than Arthur does in idly twirling off the buds with his whip; and that their ingenuity in the construction of machines and vehicles (to say nothing of the possibility of its being useful) is at least as interesting and harmless as the degrading intimacies of the stable-yard; yet Arthur thinks it very odd' that the former should be preferred.

"It is sometimes reckoned 'very odd' that people who have leisure and opportunity to go abroad, and to choose their own society, should habitually give the preference to the quiet duties and pleasures of home; should remain in the country when all the world' is in town, or stay away when all the world' is gone to a fashionable watering-place, and that they should prefer the society of the wise and good, though undistinguished by rank and fashion, to that of the great and gay, who are lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God.' I should not be surprised if this is one of the oddities of the Welford family.

"It is thought very odd when parents who can afford it, do not cram every one of their daughters with every species of thing under the sun that goes by the name of accomplishments, whether or not the said daughters have any talent or taste for them, and are or are not likely to derive any sort of pleasure or advantage from the acquirement. It is by exercising discrimination in this particular,

whose society you have been so much gratified, without professing to give to every child a smattering of every thing, have found time to cultivate in each every kind of knowledge that is really essential, and to confer on each a competent portion of such of the lighter accomplishments as taste or circumstances rendered most eligible.

"Persons are sometimes called odd, precise, particular, etc. who regularly act by a plan, who observe punctuality in all their habits and engagements both in greater and lesser matters, though it admits of easy proof, that by steady adherence to such a method, twice the good may be accomplished in a life or in any given portion of time. The early hours of the Welford family afforded much merriment to Miss Longley, although it was obvious that by such an arrangement the younger children were sharers in the regular attendance on domestic worship, from which they would otherwise have been excluded, or at best but occasionally present.

odd

"Those who are economical, that they may be generous, and deny themselves that they may help others, often come in for a share of the world's sneer at sort of people,' niggardly, cynical and morose; though, if the truth were known, they are the people who most truly relish the enjoyments of life, and are the subjects of habitual cheerfulness and serenity, to which the gay and selfish are strangers. It is sometimes considered an odd thing to pass by an injury rather than resent it. To such conduct I have heard a certain captain of our acquaintance apply the epithets mean-spirited, sneaking, cowardly, unworthy of a gentleman; but I have thought, however uncommon such conduct might be, it was the mark of a truly noble and dignified spirit. He was a brave man who said,

་

I fear sinning, though you know I do not fear fighting;' and he who forgives an injury which he might justly and safely resent, acts not only a manly but a godlike part.

6

"The epithet odd sort of people,' is not unfrequently applied to those whose religious profession and observances differ from theirs who throw out the censure; or, rather, it is a censure cast by those who are indifferent about religion, or altogether opposed to it, on those who are conscientiously, consistently, and con'stantly actuated by it. I suspect this has

something to do with the dislike which the Longleys have taken against our new neighbours."

"I think not, uncle; for I have heard Arthur speak very much against religious bigotry and sectarianism, and say he did not care a pin's point what people believed or professed."

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'Perhaps so; but people who profess such boundless and baseless liberality are often found, in reality, to be the most violently bigoted against vital, practical godliness whatever be its outward form. Many who even prided themselves on their own indifference to religion of any kind, were among the most bitter persecutors of the Christians. It was not because Paul's reasoning was inconclusive or absurd, but because his manner was earnest, because he evidently lived and acted under the power of his principles, that Festus said with a loud voice, Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad.' And justly might the persons ridiculed reply, We are not mad, but speak forth the words of truth and soberness,' Acts xxvi. 24, 25.

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My uncle paused, when I took the opportunity of asking, If all these are unjustly called odd sort of people, pray, uncle, whom do you call so?" My uncle smiled, and replied, Why, Samuel, it does not become me to call any of my neighbours by ill names; but if I must tell you whom I reckon odd sort of people, and with whom I would never wish to come in contact, they are such as seem to cast off all sort of rule, and act as if they were subject to no law-the laws of reason, the laws of society, the laws of God. They are selfish in their indulgences, extravagant in their expenses, irregular in their habits, and care not how they engross the time, squander the property, trifle with the feelings, and trample on the rights of others. Such characters in their maturity render themselves odious and contemptible enough; but the germ of such a character is often suffered, in the season of youth, to bud almost unobserved, and to gain strength before its existence is even suspected. So take care, my boys, that you never indulge the beginning of habits that a few years hence may seem as unconquerable as they are evil. Never make yourselves needlessly singular in things that are in themselves innocent, but rather comply than resist. On the other hand, never be afraid of being called odd or singular, where truth

and principle, and duty are at stake. Dare do what is right, though it expose you to the scorn and ridicule of the vain and foolish, and strengthen yourself by reading the histories of holy men of old, who dared to be singular for God, and were honourably signalized by him. For those that honour God, he will honour; but those that despise him shall be lightly esteemed, 1 Sam. ii. 30. C.

THE LAKE OF GENNESARET.

THE lake can be seen from the city of Tiberius, through its whole extent. It may be about eighteen miles long, and in its widest part, about six miles broad. The shape is irregular, something resembling a boy's kite, or a bird flying. It is called, in the Old Testament, the sea of Chinnereth, and in the New, the sea of Tiberias, the sea of Galilee, and the lake of Gennesaret. Its appearance is striking, but rather disappoints the traveller, as it differs entirely in its character from the beautiful imaginations with which it is always associated. I could have wished to see more wood upon its shores, less ruggedness in the aspect of its mountains, and a greater softness and warmth in its general features. The mountains, in some places, come close to the water; and towards the north we could discern a far higher chain, their dark sides, and still darker bases, presenting a fine contrast to the robe of snow in which their lofty summits were enveloped. The waters are clear, and were then perfectly still; but from their situation, between hills and ravines, they must be liable to sudden squalls, and to great agitation during violent gales. The expanse that unfolds itself, from this place, is perhaps little changed since the time of our Lord. The works of man are imposing to-day, but in a little time they are deserted and in ruin : temples, palaces, and even cities, are destroyed; and no investigation can discover the spots where they once flourished, though the detail of the events, that took place within them, may be familiar to our minds; but mountains and seas have been named "everlasting;" and as they looked a thousand years goneby, so look they now. It was upon this sea that our Lord sat in a boat, and thence taught the people standing upon the shore: and what a sight it must have presented, to have seen the boat in the water, and the Prince of Life, and

the listening multitude, lining in rows | the slopes of the ascent, as if in an immense amphitheatre, all so still that the little birds would not be frighted from their course in approaching the solemn audience; and the whole reflected upon the clear waters at their feet. On the opposite coast, the "herd of swine ran violently down a steep place into the sea, and perished in the waters." It was upon this sea that Jesus walked, like a spirit, in the fourth watch of the night, when the wind was boisterous, and the waves were high; and it was to these waters he spake, when he said in majesty, "Peace, be still," and the rebuked wind ceased, and there was a great calm. Not a single boat is ever seen upon its surface in our day; and the fish that do not approach the land are never molested by any of the devices of man. Josephus tells us, that the water of this lake was so cold, that it could not be warmed by setting in the sun, even in the hottest part of the year; but it has now lost this virtue, and in summer becomes warm and offensive. This lake was the scene of an engagement under Vespasian, in which some thousands were slain.Hardy's Notices of the Holy Land.

ASTON CHURCHYARD.

A NIGHT SCENE.

fluttering leaf seemed stretched against the sky. It was a gentle, but continual breeze that played with the leaves, and as it swept over the churchyard, the heads of the long feathery grass that grew here and there by the gravestones, trembled.

The ancient baronial hall, of dark red brick, with its many turrets and short pointed cupolas, was hidden by the trees. Often had I looked, in days gone by, through the goodly avenue of oaks with childish wonder, at the hole made by the cannon of Cromwell, in the reign of king Charles; but the mansion was now, as I said, hid from my view. At the east end of the church, in the house with the garden in front, lived some that I loved; but they knew not that I was near them.

My arm rested on the rough stone basement of an old gothic window. I looked into the church, and the light falling upon the window opposite, revealed distinctly the cross bones, and the red hand in the coat of arms, painted on the glass. At that moment, I heard a harsh grating noise over my head, and then came the first heavy toll of the clock for eleven. I lingered till the humming sound, after the last stroke had died away, and then left the window.

In turning by the corner of the church, a lamb that had been lying against it, sprang up: we both started at the same time; and the lamb leaping upon a broad, flat tombstone in its way, turned round to stare at me, now and then licking its lips in a quick, agitated

The pretty creature looked tomb in the moonlight; so I stept back perfect picture, standing on ing another path left the gentle anilightly over the dewy grass, and gainmal undisturbed to the stillness of the

graves.

hour, the place, the silence, and the While I was in the churchyard, the solemnity had their influence over me, life, death, and eternity were present to my thoughts; but the lamb, standing on the tombstone, gave a turn to my reflections, and I walked along, musing of association to the "Lamb of God," till my thoughts were led by the power my eyes brimmed with tears, and my heart he "taketh away the sin of the world," was full of peace, while I thought that and is revealed to us as midst of the throne."

66 a Lamb in the

THE ENGLISH MONK'S PROFESSION.

AN English monk passes through the ranks of a postulant and a novice, and the time is then fixed for his profession to take place. A description of his career will be found in a volume recently published by the Religious Tract Society, called "The Spirit of Popery," from which the following extract is taken. On the morning of the day appointed, high mass is celebrated. As yet, his dress has been only the cast-off garments of some of the professed; these are now placed on one side of the altar, and a new habit on the other, which, as the full monastic costume is not now worn in England, is merely a gown and cassock, nearly resembling those of the English universities. Led by the novice master into the chapel, where the brethren are assembled, and prostrating himself in the presence of the prior, who is seated at the high altar, he gives him the usual signal to rise on his knees, and proposes the question, "What do you want?" He 66 answers, Permission

then

to persevere in my holy resolutions." The prior, according to his system of ignorance, superstition, and delusion, then addresses the novice on the trials of the monastic life, and expatiates on the pleasures resulting from the mortification of the senses, and from living in sacred seclusion, and also dwells on the rich compensation in heaven for all the discipline he will have to undergo. "Dost thou then," he continues, notwithstanding all this, persevere ?" The novice answers, "Yes;" and is then directed to read the form of profession in the Latin tongue, which has been already prepared.

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A translation of this document is as

follows:-"In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen, in the year of my nativity day of

on the

in the county

I, brother of of, in England, promise before God and his saints, stability, reformation of my manners, and obedience, according to the rule of our most holy father, (St. Benedict,) under the very reverend

I