of individual family arrangements. It is not in any wise to legislate, nor even to dictate to others upon subjects of which they must be the only competent and responsible judges, but simply to accumulate and to diffuse information; to discuss subjects applicable to general duties; to concert plans for promoting a truly valuable and religious education, and above all, to commend each other to the gracious guidance of the Father of lights, from whom cometh down every good and perfect gift.

Can not every one, who examines the subject at all, see the possibility of accomplishing great good through these instru→ mentalities?

Original.

REFLECTIONS.

BY MRS. M. L. GARDINER.

THE worldling, the critic, the cold-hearted, and indifferent can find no pleasure in reading these musings of the soul. But the sad of heart, the mourner, and the afflicted, those who have traveled long in the wilderness, may accompany the writer in her reflections, and mingle their tears with hers, as recollections of the past rush over their minds.

Who, that has been a wanderer upon this green earth for half a century, but has witnessed the diversity of its scenes? climbed life's steep mountains, stood upon their time-beaten tops, and felt the ice-chill of their atmosphere? crept into their fastnesses when sick of heart, and alone lifted up their cries to heaven? Who has not thirsted in the desert of life and found the scattered fountains yielding bitter waters? What bosom but heaves, what eyes but weep, what heart but agonizes, when the recollections of the sunny past, like a cloud, overshadow them-when remembrances of their life's young morn arise, vivid and bright, and in fancy's illumined vision the hours return when they bounded over the dewy landscape, danced to the viol and the song, with light hearts, and free as the birds that caroled

among the branches; when their spirits unchained reveled in a world without care, when the blessing of beloved parents rested upon them, when the family altar glowed with family love, and incense pure and holy mingled in the morning and evening sacrifice. Who but remembers when new hopes and new joys sprang up in their bosoms? when the communion of hearts was sweet, and the breath of love sent a thrill through the soul and a rapture through the senses? when wedded love sung its syren song in its enchanted palace? An Eden spot never to be forgotten-so green, so beautiful-where the cold world had no entrance, where all the young affections glowed forth, and life received new impulses.

Who but has wept over the early dead? the loved, the idolized? who has not experienced the bitter pang of separation? Who but has felt the sword pierce through their own soul as they gazed upon the brow of beauty, parted the damp hair around the marble face, gazed upon the chiseled features? Who but has agonized over lips that once imparted bliss! lips eloquent with love, lips that blessed, that whispered consolation, and soothed the mind to rest? lips from which the warm aspirations of intense affection stole over them in the weakest, most agonizing, and yet happiest hours of their existence, when a mother's love first quickened a new pulse in life? Who has not, amid household cares and household joys, gazed around upon husband and children, and, like Laban of old, exclaimed, "These daughters are my daughters, and these children are my children?" Who has not seen this bright spot fade, as child after child fled from the parent nest to seek a shelter in some western bower, or in a fabled Eldorado? Who has not, after years of fatigue, years of love, years of anxiety and care, just as every thing seemed to insure a serener state of existence, beheld the storm-cloud gather, dimming their horizon and shrouding every pleasant thing? anon, seen these clouds disperse and the blessed sun again illumine the green earth, as loved ones gathered around the family altar and poured forth the pure oblation of loving hearts? Who but has seen, in the meridian of their lives, an oasis as green as in their youth's young morn, but not as deceiving? For their hearts, tutored by their wanderings in the wilderness, dare not trust its verdant groves, smiling landscapes,

murmuring brooks, flowing fountains, and blooming flowers. Too often have they seen their sun eclipsed, these bright scenes obscured, and in the very midst of life have found themselves in the midst of death! Who that have, in the last half century, seen their childhood, youth, and meridian pass away, and now feel the infirmities of age cluster upon them, but realize the beautiful and touching words of the Preacher, in the 12th chapter of Ecclesiastes? How many mourn the departure of beloved ones! How many hearths are desolate ! How many harps unstrung! Where are the dear ones? where the birds of song? where the husband and father? where the counselor, the divine, whose voice blessed, whose hands broke the bread of life, who sustained and comforted, upon whom many leaned, and to whom many looked? Passed away like a summer cloud, and are now where the sea of life's wild tumult ceaseth its roarings, and that peace that passeth all understanding takes possession of the soul. Rejoice, then, ye children of sorrow, ye are near the celestial city, where the dim light of the sun, moon, and stars are never needed. A ray from the spirit land will illumine the dark valley. Sounds of a song that never ends will break upon An arm that ever sustains will be around you, and the same hand that has guided you through life's wilderness, will lead you to the green fields of Paradise.

your ear.

Original.

AN ANTIDOTE TO INFIDELITY.

SUCH were my temptations to disbelieve the Bible during the period of youth and early manhood, says Mr. G., that I should doubtless have been a confirmed infidel, but for a comparatively trivial circumstance which occurred when I was between three and four years old. I was so passionately fond of my mother that I could not bear to have her out of my sight for a moment. My conduct in this respect was often a source of trial and mortification to her and to other members of the family. I would

always vent my bad feelings on such occasions, holding on to her till my hands were unclenched.

She often chid me for it, and sometimes corrected me for so doing. She little thought that the link which bound me so indissolubly to her was a part of that mysterious chain of events which was to rivet me to the throne of the great Eternal.

One morning as my mother left the sitting-room, I rose and followed her, unperceived, to a small room at the head of the stairs, where, I subsequently learned, it was her daily practice to retire. I quietly seated myself close by the door, determined to wait in silence till she should come forth from her seclusion. I soon became very impatient, and I thought I would venture into the room.

I gently opened the door and there I found my precious mother kneeling beside a chair. She had evidently been weeping. I saw upon the seat of the chair quite a large spot moistened by her tears. I was in an agony of grief.

"What makes you cry, mother?" I eagerly inquired.

She replied, "My dear little boy, I have been weeping before God, for my own sins and the sins of my children, and I have been beseeching God to save us from that dreadful world where the wicked must forever abide."

Though I did not fully comprehend her words at the time, yet the whole scene made such an impression upon my mind as to restrain me at all times in after life from doing what I considered wicked. And as I came to be older, I learned that with my mother the sin of unbelief was the sin of sins, and I always endeavored to shun that fatal rock.

Selected.

DO I LOVE MY WIFE?

Ar my marriage I appealed to God for the sincerity of my affection, and in His presence vowed to live with my wife as a good husband in the Lord.

The word of the Lord is, "Husbands, love your wives, even

as Christ also loved the Church, and gave himself for it;" "So ought husbands to love their wives as their own bodies;" "Husbands, dwell with your wives as heirs together of the grace of life." Has my love come up to this standard? Do I seek the spiritual good of my wife as earnestly as my own bodily comfort? Do I act as if I believed we were one in the Lord?

Do I watch over her spiritual state to quicken her in duty and guard her against sin, and whisper tender encouragement under despondency and temptation? Do I lead the way in cultivating every Christian grace, and cheer her on to make her calling and election sure?

Alas, I have long enjoyed the affections of an amiable and professedly Christian wife, but have done almost nothing that proves a true regard for her best interests. I have cared for her temporal wants; but for all that I have done directly to supply her spiritual wants, her soul might have starved. I have not even kept myself acquainted with her spiritual joys, and sorrows, and fears, and trials, and triumphs; had she been suddenly taken from me, I could not have told from her own lips whether she was waiting for the coming of the Lord or not. I have been professedly running the Christian race in company with the wife of my youth, and yet showed little sympathy with her, and sought little from her in working out our salvation. I fear I have hindered instead of helping her. Is this love? the love of a true husband? Do I really desire the eternal well-being of the dear partner of my earthly lot? May God grant me grace to be indeed a Christian husband!

LYNOX.

WHAT is prayer? It is the communion of the spiritual life in the soul of men with its divine Author; it is a breathing back the divine life into the bosom of God from whence it came; it is holy, spiritual, converse with God.

That was a beautiful remark of a converted heathen," I open my Bible, and God talks with me; I close my Bible, and then I talk with God."-WINSLOW.