is worth more than all the gold and silver in the wide world a contented mind. No, no, my young reader, it is not in riches that true happiness consists: a contented mind is of more value than the far-famed wealth of Croesus. I have often thought that old Mr. Morphew might have taken up this language of the poet Coleridge, with strict propriety :—

66

"Low was our pretty cot: our tallest rose

Peep'd at the chamber window. We could hear
At silent noon, and eve, and early morn,
The sea's faint murmurs. In the open air
Our myrtles blossom'd; and across the porch
Thick jasmines twin'd: the little landscape round
Was green and woody, and refresh'd the eye.
It was a spot which you might, haply, call
The valley of seclusion! Once I saw,
Hallowing his sabbath-day by quietness,
A wealthy son of commerce saunter by
Bristowa's citizen: methought it calm'd
His thirst of idle gold, and made him muse
With wiser feelings; for he paus'd and look'd
With a pleas'd sadness, and gaz'd all around-
Then eyed our cottage, and gaz'd round again,—
And sigh'd, and said it was a blessed place,
And we were bless'd. Oft with a patient ear
Long listening to the viewless skylark's note
(Viewless, or haply for a moment seen
Gleaming on sunny wings), in whisper'd tones
I've said to my beloved, Such, sweet girl!
The unobtrusive song of happiness,

Unearthly minstrelsy! then only heard

When the soul seeks to hear; when all is hush'd
And the heart listens.""

:

True happiness, in truth, has no localities, no provincial tones, and no peculiar garb she resides as often in the cottage, nay oftener, than in the mansion. Old Izaak Walton, in his Angler," says: "I sat down under a willowtree by the water side, and considered what you had told me of the owner of that pleasant meadow, in which you then left me that he had a plentiful estate, and not a heart to think

so that he had at this time many lawsuits depending, and that they both damped his mirth, and took so much of his time and thoughts, that he had not leisure to take the sweet content that I, who pretend no title to them, took in his fields. For I could sit there quietly, and, looking in the water, see some fishes sport themselves on the silver streams, others leaping at flies of several shapes and colours: looking on the hills, I could behold them spotted with woods and groves: looking down the meadows, could here see a boy gathering lilies, there a girl cropping culverkeys and cowslips; all to make garlands suitable to this present month of May." Here was happiness, and just such happiness reigned in the cottage of old Mr. Morphew.

It was early in life that I became acquainted with John Morphew, and from that hour to this I have never had the slightest occasion to repent my choice of his friendship. On the contrary, it has been a constant source of pleasure.

"But little of the past will stay!
And quickly all will melt away!
All-but that freedom of the mind

Which hath been more than wealth to me

Those friendships in my boyhood twin'd,

And kept till now unchangingly;

And that dear home, that saving ark,

Where Love's true light at last I've found

Cheering within when all grows dark,

And comfortless and stormy round."

It is true, John lived in humble circumstances, and was even despised by some of my other companions; but I never once thought of this. His manners were so agreeable and pleasing,

and his good sense and right moral conduct so palpable, that I became attached to him as though he had been born of the same parents. Nor would I ever see him slighted without defending him. I recollect, on one occasion, when some of my companions and myself had agreed to have an afternoon's ramble to "the beeches," at some considerable distance from our village, that I proposed John Morphew, who was not then present, should accompany us. This proposition was agreeable to one or two of my companions; but as soon as I had made it, I could see that there were others to whom it was any thing but agreeable. Matt Norden, indeed, plainly said that he thought we could do very well without him. I saw there was something which gave offence, and I therefore demanded to know why we could do without him? and whether we could not do as well or better with him?

"in

As before related, Matt Norden was tended" for the Church; and this, it appeared from his answer to my queries, had so elated him, that he was unwilling to associate with the son of a petty tradesman. Such was the burden of his reply, "and, feeling the utmost scorn for such sentiments, I insisted that John Morphew should be asked to accompany us, and threatened, if he were not, that I would stop at home myself. What," I continued, "if John Morphew is only the son of a petty tradesman? I will venture to say, that not one among us exhibits better manners, or higher morality, than he does. He may not be our equal in wealth, though none of us have the wealth of a Dives; but

this I will assert, that if he is not our equal in this respect, he is our equal, if not our superior, in all that tends to dignify the human character. The poet observes justly that

'Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow.'

Let me ask you, Matt, if we possessed the highest hereditary nobility, of what value it would be if we were without merit? The actions of our ancestors could not possibly ennoble us: they could not prove any part of our commendation, especially if we wanted abilities to imitate them. As an old writer has observed, 'it is a sign that a man is very poor when he has nothing of his own to appear in, but is forced to patch up his figure with the relics of the dead, and to rifle tombstones and monuments for reputation.' Juvenal also gives this sage advice: 'If you would have your pre-eminence admired in yourself, and not for your predecessor's worth, give some specimen of personal merit, that may signalise your character, more than those honours which we have always given to them from whom you derive your nobility.' For my own part I can only say, that if you all resolve to go without John Morphew, you may go without me. I scorn the idea of slighting him because he has not so much wealth in store for him as Matt Norden and the rest of us."

It was seldom that I carried matters with such a high hand among my companions. In fact, I think this may be considered a solitary instance of my dogmatism in early years; and I trust I

should not then have exhibited such a feeling, if there had not been some occasion for it. I saw that Matt Norden was inclined to sacrifice the happiness of one of the most worthy of our youthful companions at the shrine of his pride. I saw, also, that it was my duty to defend the character of John Morphew; the more so, because he was absent, and therefore unable to defend himself,

"Who seek a friend should come dispos'd
T'exhibit in full bloom disclos'd

The graces and the beauties

That form the character he seeks-
For 'tis a union that bespeaks
Reciprocated duties.

"Mutual attention is implied,
And equal truth on either side,
And constantly supported;
'Tis senseless arrogance t' accuse
Another of sinister views,

Our own as much distorted.

"But will sincerity suffice?
It is indeed above all price,
And must be made the basis;

But every virtue of the soul

Must constitute the charming whole,

All shining in their places."— COWPER.

Having declared my resolution not to go to "the beeches" without John Morphew was invited, it was put to the vote whether he should or should not go. All voted for his presence except Matt Norden, and he, evidently half ashamed of displaying his pride, seemed inclined to hold his hand up also. On gaining my point I resumed the subject thus: "There is nothing like sincerity in friendship: a friend who does not show himself to be such at all times and seasons, that is, who shows himself now warm