that,
upon the other hand, we are living in a country and in an age when we are
surrounded with all that makes life pleasant and enjoyable, we shall
endeavour to find out some mode of harmonizing these different chords. It
need hardly be said how far removed luxury is from the spirit of
Christianity, and from the life of its Founder; yet it may reverently be
remembered that on more than one occasion He showed His tender regard for
the weakness of human nature by stamping with His approval the pleasures
of convivial festivity.

What then is the remedy against luxury? I would say shortly,--in work. A
busy man has no time for luxury, and there is no reason why every man
should not have enough to do, if he will only do it. And I am sure the
same rule applies to the ladies, although a very busy man once wrote of
his wife--

"In work, work, work, in work alway
My every day is past;
I very slowly make the coin--
She spends it very fast."

But speaking seriously, I am sure that in some sort of work lies the
antidote to luxury. When Orpheus sailed past the beautiful islands
"lying in dark purple spheres of sea," and heard the songs of the idle
and luxurious syrens floating languidly over the waters, he drowned their
singing in a paean to the gods. Religion often affords a great incentive
to work for the good of others; and, in working for others, we have
neither the time, nor the inclination, to be over indulgent of ourselves.
So, the desire to obtain fame and renown has often produced men of the
austere and non-indulgent type, as the Duke of Wellington and many
others:--

"Fame is the spur which the clear spirit doth raise,
That last infirmity of noble mind,
To scorn delights and live laborious days."

Nay, even the desire to obtain riches, and the strife after them, will
leave a man little room for luxury. To be honest, to be brave, to be
kind and generous, to seek to know what is right, and to do it; to be
loving and tender to others, and to care little for our comfort and ease,
and even for our very lives, is perhaps to be somewhat old-fashioned and
behind the age; but these are, after all, the things which distinguish us
from the brute beasts which perish, and which justify our aspirations
towards eternity.

A STORY.
THE READING PARTY.

CHAPTER I.--THE COACH.

Charles Porkington, M.A., sometime fellow of St. Swithin, was born of
humble parents. He was educated, wit