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CHAPTER X X XVIII.

TO THE MEMORY OF MY SISTER.

1. I REMEMBER how I loved her,

When, a little guiltless child,
I saw her in the cradle,

As she looked on me and smiled;
My cup of happiness was full,

My joy words cannot tell ;
And I blessed the glorious Giver,

“Who doeth all things well.”

2. Months passed — that bud of promise

Was unfolding every hour, -
I thought that earth had never smiled

Upon a fairer flower ;
So beautiful, it well might grace

The bowers where angels dwell,
And waft its fragrance to his throne

• Who doeth all things well.”

3. Years fled,- that little sister then

Was dear as life to me,
And woke in my unconscious heart

A wild idolatry,
I worshipped at an earthly shrine,

Lured by some magic spell,
Forgetful of the praise of Him

" Who doeth all things well.”

4. She was the lovely star, whose light

Around my pathway shone,
Amid this darksome vale of tears,

Through which I journey on;-
Its radiance had obscured the light

Which round His throne doth dwell,
And I wandered far away from Him

" Who doeth all things well.”

5. That star went down in beauty,

Yet it shineth sweetly now
In the bright and dazzling coronet

That decks the Saviour's brow;
She bowed to the Destroyer,

Whose shafts none may repel;
But we know, - for God hath told us,-

“He doeth all things well.”

6. I remember well my sorrow,

As I stood beside her bed,
And my deep and heartfelt anguish,

When they told me she was dead;
And oh! that cup of bitterness, -

Let not my heart rebel,
God gave,- He took, — HE WILL RESTORE, -

“ He doeth all things well.”

CHAPTER X X XI X.

MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS.

1. My mind to me a kingdom is;

Such perfect joy therein I find,
That it excels all other bliss

That God or nature hath assigned ;
Though much I want that most would have,
Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

2. No princely port, nor wealthy store,

Nor force to win a victory;
No wily wit to salve a sore,

No shape to win a loving eye;
To none of these I yield as thrall,
For why, my mind despise them all.

3. I see that plenty surfeits oft,

And hasty climbers soonest fall ;

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4. I press to bear no haughty sway ;

I wish no more than may suffice;
I do no more than well I may,

Looks what I want, my mind supplies ;
Lo, thus I triumph like a king,
My mind's content with anything.

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6. My wealth is health and perfect ease,

And conscience clear my chief defence;
I never seek by bribes to please,

Nor by desert to give offence.
Thus do I live, thus will I die.
Would all do so as well as I!

CHAPTER XL.

A QUAINT SERMON. 1. MR. DODD was a minister, who lived many years ago a few miles from Cambridge ; and having several times been preaching against drunkenness, some of the Cambridge scholars (conscience, which is sharper than ten thousand witnesses, being their monitor) were very much offended, and thought he made reflections on them.

2. Some little time after, Mr. Dodd was walking towards Cambridge, and met some of the gownsmen ; who, as soon

as they saw him at a distance, resolved to make some ridicule of him. As soon as he came up, they accosted him with, “ Your servant, sir!” He replied, “Your servant, gentlemen."

3. They asked him if he had not been preaching very much against drunkenness of late ? He answered in the affirmative. They then told him they had a favor to beg of him, and it was that he would preach a sermon to them there, from a text they should choose.

4. He argued that it was an imposition, for a man ought to have some consideration before preaching. They said they would not put up with a denial, and insisted upon his preaching immediately, (in a hollow tree, which stood by the roadside,) from the word M.A.L.T. He then began :

5. Beloved, let me crave your attention. I am a little man, come at a short notice, to preach a short sermon, from a short text, to a thin congregation, in an unworthy pulpit. Beloved, my text is Malt.

6. I cannot divide it into sentences, there being none ; nor into words, there being but one. I must, therefore, of necessity, divide it into letters, which I find in my text to be these four- M.A.L.T.

M-is Moral.
A-is Allegorical.
L-is Literal.
T- is Theological.

7. The Moral is, to teach you rustics good manners; therefore, M — my Masters, A— All of you, L-Leave off, T-Tippling.

8. The Allegorical is, when one thing is spoken of and another meant. The thing spoken of is malt: the thing meant is the spirit of malt, which you rustics make M—your Meat, A- your Apparel, L-your Liberty, and T-your Trust.

9. The Literal is, according to the letters, M— Much, A - Ale, L- Little, T - Trust.

10. The Theological is, according to the effects it works : in some, M- Murder; in others, A- Adultery; in all, L- Looseness of Life; and in many, T-Treachery.

11. I shall conclude the subject — First, by way of exhortation. M— my Masters, A— All of you, L- Listen, Tto

my Text. Second, by way of caution. M - my Masters, A — All of you, L- Look for, T— the Truth. Third, by way of communicating the truth, which is this:

12. A Drunkard is the annoyance of modesty ; the spoil of civility; the destruction of reason; the robber's agent ; the alehouse benefactor; his wife's sorrow; his children's trouble ; his own shame; his neighbor's scoff; a walking swill-bowl; the picture of a beast; the monster of a man!

CHAPTER XLI.

THE SISTER'S FAREWELL TO THE SAILOR-BOY.

1. Since where waves are gliding,
And the tall ship riding,

Thou dost choose to dwell,
Where the sea-bird screameth,
And the bright flag gleameth,

Brother, fare thee well.

2. Where the orchard shineth,
Where the grape-vine twineth,

Or the nut-tree laden,
Thou, while song-birds waken,
Hast with strong arm shaken

For some bright-eyed maiden :

3. Where, in summer weather, Oft we've played together,

'Neath the old oak tree, With our dog beside us, While no sorrow tried us,

I'll remember thee.

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