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cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor; you will be in fear when you speak to him; you will make poor pitiful sneaking excuses, and, by degrees, come to lose your veracity, and sink into base, downright lying; for, 'The second vice is lying, the first is running in debt,' as Poor Richard again, to the same purpose, 'Lying rides upon debt's back: whereas a free born Englishman ought not to be ashamed nor afraid to see or speak to any man living. But poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright.' -What would you think of that prince, or of that government, who should issue an edict forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude? Would you not say that you were free, have a right to dress as you please, and that such an edict would be a breach of your privileges, and such a government tyrannical ? and yet you are about to put yourself under that tyranny, when you run in debt for such dress! When you have got your bargain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment; but, as Poor Richard says, • Creditors have better memories than debtors; creditors are perstitious sect, great observers of set days and times.' The day comes round before you are aware, and the demand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it; or, if you bear your debt in mind, the term,

, which at first seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short : time will seem to have added wings to his heels as well as his shoulders. Those have a short Lent, who owe money to be paid at Easter.' At present, perhaps, you may think yourselves in thriving circumstances, and that you can bear a little extravagance without injury; but

*For age and want save while you may,

No morning sun lasts a whole day.' “ Gain may be temporary and uncertain ; but ever,

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while you live, expense is constant and certain ; and • It is easier to build two chimneys than to keep one in fuel,' as Poor Richard says: so, “Rather go to bed supperless, than rise in debt

"Get what you can, and what you get hold,

'Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold.' And when you have got the philosopher's stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad times or the difficulty of paying taxes.

“IV. This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom : but, after all, do not depend too much upon your own industry, and frugality, and prudence, though excellent things; for they may all be blasted without the blessing of heaven; and therefore ask that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at present seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember, Job suffered, and was afterwards prosperous.

“And now to conclude, Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other,' as Poor Richard says, and scarce in that; for it is true, 'We may give advice, but we cannot give conduct.' However, remember this, "They that will not be counselled cannot be helped, and farther, that 'If you will not hear Reason, she will surely rap your knuckles, as Poor Richard says."

Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it, and approved the doctrine, and immediately practised the contrary, just as if it had been a common sermon ; for 'the auction opened, and they began to buy extravagantly. I found the good man had thoroughly studied my almanacks, and digested all I had dropped on those topics during the course of twenty-five years. The frequent mention he made of me must have tired any one else; but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, though I was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own, which

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he ascribed to me; but rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. However, I resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and though I had at first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away, resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy profit will be as great as mine.

THE HOURS.

C. P. CRANCH.

The hours are viewless angels,

That still go gliding by,
And bear each minute's record up

To Him who sits on high.

And we who walk among them,

As one by one departs,
See not that they are hovering

Forever round our hearts.

Like summer-bees, that hover

Around the idle flowers,
They gather every act and thought,

Those viewless angel-hours.

The poison or the nectar

The heart's deep flower-cups yield,
A sample still they gather swift,

And leave us in the field.

And some flit by on pinions

Of joyous gold and blue,
And some flag on with drooping wings

Of sorrow's darker hue.

But still they steal the record,

And bear it far away ;
Their mission-flight by day or night

No magic power can stay.

And as we spend each minute

That God to us hath given,
The deeds are known before His throne,

The tale is told in heaven.

These bee-like hours we see not,

Nor hear their noiseless wings;
We only feel, too oft, when flown,

That they have left their stings.

So, teach me, Heavenly Father,

To meet each flying hour,
That as they go they may not show
My heart a poison-flower!

So, when death brings its shadows,

The hours that linger last
Shall bear my hopes on angel-wings,

Unfetter'd by the past.

THE CATERPILLAR AND THE BUTTERFLY.

CHRISTOPHER CHRISTIAN STURM.

The transformation of caterpillars into butterflies is one of those phenomena which have great claims upon our attention. The preparatory state previous to this change is very surprising : the caterpillar having cast its skin three or four times, it gradually sinks into a state of torpor, assuming a form that bears no resemblance to a living creature. The insect remains in this state one, two, or three weeks, sometimes even ten months, until its transformation is completed, when it makes its way out of its shell, and soars in the air as a beautiful butterfly,

There are two kinds of butterflies: the wings of the one kind close perpendicularly, those of the other horizontally; the former fly during the day, the latter at night. The caterpillars from which the nocturnal insects (moths) issue spin themselves a cone as the time approaches for their change, or else they bury themselves. Those which are, properly speaking, butterfly caterpillars, suspend themselves in the open air, to a plant, a lath, a wall, or some such thing; to effect this they spin a very fine web, in which they envelop themselves; they then drop themselves down, and are suspended with their head inclining a little upwards. Other kinds attach themselves by a thread passed round the middle of their bodies, and which is fastened at each end. In one or the other of these ways all butterflies prepare for the grand transformation they are about to undergo. Thus both butterflies and moths may be said to bury themselves alive, and prepare quietly to await the end of their caterpillar state, as if foreseeing that, after a short repose, they should receive a new existence, and appear

under a more beautiful form. The death and resurrection of the just cannot be better typified than by a comparison with this change of the caterpillar : to the true Christian death is but a sleep, a state of calm repose after the troubles and miseries of this world, a momentary torpor, a transitory privation of life, from which they shall rouse and awake to a life of glorious immortality. What is a caterpillar ? A crawling insect, blind and despised, which, while it drags on its joyless existence, is exposed to an infinity of accidents and persecutions. Has man a better fate in this world ?

The caterpillar prepares for its change with the greatest care. In like manner the just conduct themselves : having death always before their eyes, they await with tranquillity and joy the happy instant

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