from His working a miracle to pay His tribute or poll money, which came not to much above a shilling. Indeed, He came into the world, and went out again, without ever taking any notice of any pleasures, honours, or riches in it, as if there had been no such thing there, as really there was not or ever will be; all the pomp and glory of this deceitful world having no other being in existence but only in our distempered fancies and imaginations: and therefore our Saviour, whose fancy was sound, and His imagination untainted, looked upon all the world and the glory of it as not worthy to be looked upon, seeing nothing in it wherefore it should be desired. And therefore, instead of spending His time in the childish pursuit of clouds and shadows, He made the service of God not only His business, but His recreation too, His food as well as work. "It is my meat," saith He, "to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish His work."* This was all the riches, honour, and pleasures, which He sought for in the world, even to do the will of Him that sent Him thither, to finish the work which He came about; and so He did before He went away: "Father, I have glorified thee on earth; I have finished the work which thou sentest me to do."t If, therefore, we would be Christ's disciples, so as to follow Him, we see what we must do, and how we must behave and carry ourselves whilst we are here below; we must not spend our time nor throw away our precious and short-lived days upon the trifles and impertinences of this transient world, as if we came hither for nothing else but to take and scrape up a little dust and dirt together, or to wallow ourselves like swine in the mire of carnal pleasures and delights. No, we may assure ourselves we have greater things to do, and far more noble designs to carry on, whilst we continue in this vale of tears, even "to work out our salvation with fear and trembling, and to make our calling and election sure," and to serve God here so as to enjoy Him for ever. This is the work we came about, and which we must not only do, but do it too with pleasure

and delight, and never leave until we have accomplished it; we must make it our only pleasure to please God, account it our only honour to honour Him, and esteem His love and favour to be the

* John iv. 34.

+ John xvii. 4.

only wealth and riches which we can enjoy: we must think ourselves no further happy than we find ourselves to be truly holy, and therefore devote our lives wholly to Him, in whom we live. This is to live as Christ lived, and by consequence as Christians ought to do.

ADDISON, after a long interval in the production of his papers on the worthy knight whom he had adopted for his own, brings him to London. His character will now be brought out under new aspects. The following passages are from the "Spectator," No. 269.

I was this morning surprised with a great knocking at the door, when my landlady's daughter came up to me, and told me that there was a man below desired to speak with me. Upon my asking her who it was, she told me it was a very grave elderly person, but that she did not know his name. I immediately went down to him, and found him to be the coachman of my worthy

friend Sir Roger de Coverley. He told me that his master came to town last night, and would be glad to take a turn with me in Gray's Inn walks. As I was wondering with myself what had brought Sir Roger to town, not having lately received any letter from him, he told me that his master was come up to get a sight of Prince Eugene, and that he desired I would immediately meet him.

"I was not a little pleased with the curiosity of the old knight, though I did not much wonder at it, having heard him say more than once in private discourse, that he looked upon Prince Eugenio (for so the knight calls him) to be a greater man than Scanderbeg.

"I was no sooner come into Gray's Inn walks, but I heard my friend hemming twice or thrice to himself with great vigour, for he loves to clear his pipes in good air, (to make use of his own phrase,) and is not a little pleased with any one who takes notice of the strength which he still exerts in his morning hems.

"I was touched with a secret joy at the sight of the good old man, who, before he saw me, was engaged in conversation with a beggar-man that had asked an alms of him. I could hear my friend chide him for not finding out some work; but at the same time saw him put his hand in his pocket and give him sixpence.

"Our salutations were very hearty on both sides, consisting of many kind shakes of the hand, and several affectionate looks which we cast upon one another. After which the knight told me my good friend his chaplain was very well, and much at my service, and that the Sunday before he had made a most incomparable sermon out of Dr Barrow. 'I have left,' says he, 'all my affairs in his hands; and being willing to lay an obligation upon him, have deposited with him thirty marks, to be distributed among his poor parishioners.'

"He then proceeded to acquaint me with the welfare of Will Wimble. Upon which he put his hand into his fob, and presented me, in his name, with a tobacco-stopper, telling me that Will had been busy all the beginning of the winter in turning great quantities of them; and that he made a present of one to every gentle

man in the county who has good principles and smokes. He added, that poor Will was at present under great tribulation, for that Tom Touchy had taken the law of him for cutting some hazelsticks out of one of his hedges.

Among other pieces of news which the knight brought from his country-seat, he informed me that Moll White was dead, and that about a month after her death the wind was so very high that it blew down the end of one of his barns. 'But for my own part,' says Sir Roger, 'I do not think that the old woman had any hand in it.'

"He afterwards fell into an account of the diversions which had passed in his house during the holidays; for Sir Roger, after the laudable custom of his ancestors, always keeps open house at Christmas.

"I learned from him that he had killed eight fat hogs for this season; that he had dealt about his chines very liberally amongst his neighbours, and that in particular he had sent a string of hogs' puddings, with a pack of cards, to every poor family in the parish. 'I have often thought,' says Sir Roger, 'it happens very well that Christmas should fall out in the middle of winter. It is the most dead, uncomfortable time of the year, when the poor people would suffer very much from their poverty and cold, if they had not good cheer, warm fires, and Christmas gambols to support them. I love to rejoice their poor hearts at this season, and to see the whole village merry in my great hall. I allow a double quantity of malt to my small-beer, and set it a running for twelve days to every one that calls for it. I have always a piece of cold beef and a mince-pie upon the table, and am wonderfully pleased to see my tenants pass away a whole evening in playing their innocent tricks, and smutting one another. Our friend Will Wimble is as merry as any of them, and shows a thousand roguish tricks upon these occasions.

...

"Having passed away the greatest part of the morning in hearing the knight's reflections, which were partly private and partly political, he asked me if I would smoke a pipe with him over a dish of coffee at Squires's. As I love the old man, I take delight in com

plying with everything that is agreeable to him, and accordingly waited on him to the coffee-house, where his venerable figure drew upon us the eyes of the whole room. He had no sooner seated himself at the upper end of the high table, but he called for a clean pipe, a paper of tobacco, a dish of coffee, a wax-candle, and the Supplement, with such an air of cheerfulness and good humour, that all the boys in the coffee-room (who seemed to take pleasure in serving him) were at once employed on his several errands, insomuch that nobody else could come at a dish of tea until the knight had got all his conveniences about him."

When Addison has got Sir Roger fairly in London, he will not trust him to inferior hands. The "Spectator," No. 329, is a genuine morsel of quiet humour. The idea of the good old country squire displaying his historical knowledge, upon the strength of Baker's "Chronicle," is highly amusing. Nothing can be happier than his wonder that he did not find the history of the wax-work maid of honour in the State Annals of Queen Elizabeth.

"My friend Sir Roger de Coverley told me t'other night, that he had been reading my paper upon Westminster Abbey, in which, says he, there are a great many ingenious fancies. He told me at the same time that he observed I had promised another paper upon the tombs, and that he should be glad to go and see them with me, not having visited them since he had read history I could not imagine at first how this came into the knight's head, till I recollected that he had been busy all last summer upon Baker's "Chronicle," which he has quoted several times in his disputes with Sir Andrew Freeport since his last coming to town. Accordingly I promised to call upon him the next morning, that we might go together to the abbey. As we went up the body of the church, the knight pointed at the trophies upon one of the new monuments, and cried out, 'A brave man, I warrant him!' Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudesley Shovel, he flung his hand that way, and cried, 'Sir Cloudesley Shovel! a very gallant man.' As we stood before Busby's tomb, the knight uttered himself again after the same manner: 'Dr Busby! a great man! he whipped my grandfather; a very great man! I should have gone to himself, if I had not been a blockhead: a very great man!'