These things, therefore, being so far inferior to the nature of man, he must look higher if he will be blessed, even to God himself, who is the Father of Spirits. God intended these things for our use, not enjoyment; and what folly is it to think we can squeeze that from them which God never put in them? They are breasts that, moderately drawn, yield good milk, sweet, refreshing; but wring them too hard, and you will suck nothing but wind or blood from them. We lose what they have, by expecting to find what they have not: none find less sweetness and more dissatisfaction in these things, than those who strive most to please themselves with them. The cream of the creature floats a-top; and he that is not content to fleet it, but thinks by drinking a deeper draught to find yet more, goes further to speed worse, being sure by the disappointment he shall meet to pierce himself through with many sorrows. But all these fears might happily be escaped, if thou wouldest turn thy back on the creature and face about for heaven; labour to get Christ, and through Him hopes of heaven, and thou takest the right road to content; thou shalt see it before thee, and enjoy the prospect of it as thou goest, yea, find that at every step thou drawest nearer and nearer to it.

Earthly things are like some trash which do not only not nourish, but take away the appetite from that which would; heaven and heavenly things are not relished by a soul vitiated with these. Manna, though for deliciousness called angels' food, was yet but light bread to an Egyptian palate. But these spiritual things depend not on thy opinion, O man! whoever thou art, (as earthly things in a great measure do,) that the value of them should rise or fall as the world's exchange doth, and as vain man is pleased to rate them: think gold dirt, and it is so, for all the royal stamp on it; count the swelling titles of worldly honour (that proud dust so brags in) vanity, and they are such; but have base thoughts of Christ, and he is not the worse: slight heaven as much as you will, it will be heaven still: and when thou comest so far to thy wits with the prodigal, as to know which is best fare, husks or bread; where's best living, among hogs in the field, or

in thy father's house; then thou wilt know how to judge of these heavenly things better: till then go and make the best market thou canst of the world, but look not to find this pearl of price, true satisfaction to thy soul, in any of the creature shops; and, were it not better to take it when thou mayest have it, than after thou hast wearied thyself in vain in following the creature, to come back with shame, and, may be, miss of it here also, because thou wouldest not have it when it was offered?

ANONYMOUS.

THE ballad of the "Heir of Linne" has in its numbers the sound of the "north countree," and is perhaps of Scottish descent, though found in Percy's "Southern Ballad-Book." The hero belongs, however, by all theories, to the other side of the Tweed he is called, too, a lord of Scotland in the rhyme : not as a lord of parliament, but a laird whose title went with his estate. The old thrifty Laird of Linne died, and left his all to an unthrifty son who loved wine and mirth :

To spend the day with merry cheer,
To drink and revel every night;
To card and dice from eve till morn,
It was, I ween, his heart's delight.

To ride, to run, to rant, to roar,
To always spend and never spare;
I wot an' it were the king himself,
Of gold and fee he mot be bare.

all his gold was spent and

And bare he soon became; when gone, he bethought him of his father's steward, John of the Scales, now a wealthy man, and to him he went for help: he was received with courtesy :—

Now welcome, welcome, Lord of
Linne,

Let nought disturb thy merry cheer;
If thou wilt sell thy lands so broad,
Good store of gold I'll give thee
here.

My gold is gone, my money is spent,

My land now take it unto thee; Give me the gold, good John o' the Scales,

And thine for aye my land shall be.

John o' the Scales drew out the agreement as tight as a glove, gave earnest-money that all might be according to custom as well as law, and then reckoned up the purchase-money, which would not have bought more than a third of the land in an honest and open market

He told him the gold upon the board,

He was right glad his land to win; The gold is thine, the land is mine,

And now I'll be the Lord of Linne.

Thus hath he sold his land so broad,

Both hill and holt, and moor and fen, All but a poor and lonesome lodge, That stood far in a lonely glen.

This lonesome lodge was preserved in obedience to a vow made to his father, who told him on his death-bed that when he had spent all his money and all his land, and all the world frowned on him for a spendthrift, he would find in that lonely dwelling-place a sure and faithful friend. Who this friend in need was, the young Lord of Linne never inquired when he made the reservation; but, taking up the gold of John of the Scales, and calling on his companions, drank, and diced, and spared not:

"Well," but said the Heir of Linne, "I have many friends, trusty ones who ate of the fat and drank of the strong at my table; so let me go and borrow a little from each, in turns, that my pockets may never be empty : ”—

But one I wis was not at home,
Another had paid his gold away,
Another call'd him a thriftless loon,
And sharply bade him wend his

way.

Now well-a-day, said the Heir of

Linne,

Now well-a-day, and woe is me; For when I had my lands so broad, On me they lived right merrilie.

The Heir of Linne stood and mused a little now on his ruined fortunes. "It were a burning shame," thought he, "to beg my bread like a common mendicant; to rob or steal would be sinful, and my limbs are unused to work; besides labour is unbecoming in a gentleman; let me go therefore to that little lonesome lodge of which my father spoke, and see what it will do for me, since there is no help elsewhere: ".

"Ah! this is the friend my father meant," said he, regarding the vacant noose with an eye which seemed to say welcome; while, as if the hint of the rope was not sufficient for a desperate man, a few plain broad letters told him, since he had brought himself to poverty and ruin, to try the trusty cord, and so end all his sorrows:—--

Sorely shent with this sharp rebuke,
Sorely shent was the heir of Linne:
His heart, I wis, was nigh to brast,

With guilt and sorrow, shame and sin.

Never a word spake the Heir of Linne,
Never a word he spake but three;
This is a trusty friend indeed,

And is right welcome unto nie.

66

He said no more, but, putting the cord round his neck, gave a spring into the air; but, instead of the death which he expected, the ceiling to which the rope was fixed gave way: he fell to the floor, and on recovering was surprised to see a key attached to the cord, with an inscription which told him where to find two chests full of gold and a chest full of silver, containing a sum more than sufficient to set him free and redeem his lands; with an admonition to amend his life, lest the rope should be his end. "I here vow to God," exclaimed the Heir of Linne, that my father's words shall be my guide and rule in future, else may the cord finish all!" He secured the money, turned his thoughts on his estates, and hastened to the house of Linne, resolved to be wily as well as prudent, for he knew the character of the new proprietor. With John of the Scales it happened to be a day of feasting and mirth: at one end of a table covered with dainties, amid which the wine was not forgotten, sat John, at the other his wife, swollen with newly-acquired importance; while neighbouring lairds all in a row made up the gladsome company ;—

There John himself sat at the board

head,

Because now Lord of Linne was he; I pray thee, he said, good John o' the Scales,

One forty pence for to lend me.

Away, away, thou thriftless loon,

Away, away, this may not be: For Christ's curse on my head, he said,

If ever I trust thee one penny.

This was probably what the Heir of Linne wished, as well as expected. Woman in the hour of need or of misery is said to be merciful and compassionate: so he turned to the new Lady of Linne, saying, "Madam, bestow alms on me for the sake of sweet Saint Charity." "Begone!" exclaimed this imperious madam; "I swear thou shalt have no alms from my hand— were it to hang spendthrifts and fools, we would certainly begin with thee: "—

Then up bespoke a good fellow, Who sat at John o' the Scales's board;

Said, Turn again, thou Heir of Linne,
Some time thou wast a well good

lord.