with their children. It was a public service of the Maternal Association, and one of the most interesting nature. I returned from this delightful service convinced that the want of youthful piety in the church of God must be traced to the neglect of mothers. The ministers of the sanctuary must continue to cry, "Wo is me! my soul desired the first ripe fruit," until mothers are awakened to their responsibilities as nursing-mothers to the church, receiving their little ones with this injunction from heaven: "Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages."

How can we presume to expect that our sons will be as plants grown up in their youth, and our daughters as corner-stones polished after the similitude of a palace, unless by a decidedly religious education we seek after this as the "one thing" we have desired of the Lord for our beloved children. That God, as the God of the families of Israel, has a right to require this at our hands cannot be disputed; and shall we rob him, and train up our offspring for the world, of which Satan is the god? shall we turn them out of that "course" where flow thestreams of covenant grace?

Does this thought startle us? and are we ready to say, "We are not of this world," "we are of God?" True, we may not ourselves be walking according to the course of this world, which leads from God, yet is it not to be feared that we follow too much the manners of the world in the training of our children? Are there not many who venture to prepare their children for fashionable life at a most perilous risk, forgetting that every step they take in the unhallowed pleasures of this world leads them further from God? Do not such parents lose sight of the distinctive marks of the people of God-a people which God has formed for himself to show forth his glory? Does not the secret worldliness of the parent betray itself here? Do they in this path of relative duty walk by faith and not by sight? Do they not seem to forget that the outward prosperity which comes with God's blessing can only prove a real good, and that God by an eternal decree has united duty and privilege? Can they presumptuously expect that the unchangeable "I AM," he who said to the father of the faithful, "I know him, that he will command his children, and they shall keep the way of the Lord," will change the econo

my of his government for them? No. He is of one mind-" God is one;" and the duty enjoined is as binding as the promise is sure.

If he has said, "I will establish my covenant between me and thee and thy seed," he has also said, "Thou shalt keep my covenant." Nor are promises and warnings to be found in the sacred volume more specific and clear than those given as incitements to the faithful discharge of parental duties. Alas! it is but too well known that the larger proportion even of christian parents deny their own beloved children the privilege of a scriptural education, and consequently cut off from them the blessed results. But these papers are written for those who do indeed desire to bring up their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord: who have themselves been by converting grace brought out from mystic Egypt, and who by their lives declare plainly that they desire and seek a better country, choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a

season.

Let those whose prayers and practice harmonize, take encouragement. Let them pray in faith, and "be instant in prayer." Let every maternal duty be performed in a prayerful spirit. The records of eternity will unfold the achievements of prayer, nor are we now without many heart-cheering memorials of the instrumentality of parents in the conversion of their children.

I was standing at the counter of a book-store some years since, when a lady entered and inquired for pocket Bibles. I knew her well. A few years before she had married a respectable young merchant, who, although possessed but of little. if any,

capital himself, had been started in business by a gentleman of wealth, with every prospect of success. He was active, honest, and enterprising; and, although he had married early after commencing business for himself-perhaps too early-the lady whom he had selected as his companion was worthy his choice. She had more ambition, some of her friends thought, than comported with their circumstances; and although she contrived to repress it, in consideration that her husband's income for the present was small, it was apparent that her spirit was aspiring, and that she was looking forward with some impatience to the time when she should be the mistress of a fine house, with furniture corresponding. A friend of his, who was married about the same time, had at once entered upon the enjoyment of these objects of ambition, and had even a handsome carriage at her command. Quite possibly Matilda Grant cherished the secret hope that she might one day be able to visit that friend in a similar establishment of her own.

The dispensations of God, however, not unfrequently intervene to thwart our plans and defeat our cherished hopes of worldly good. He has higher views respecting us than we ourselves entertain-the elevation of our souls, and those of our friends, to a crown of glory in his own blessed mansions—and a preparation therefore is necessary, which requires sorrow here in order to joy hereafter. Through much tribulation must we enter into the kingdom of God.

For a few years Mr. Grant went on well in business. His purchases were made with judgment, and his goods were credited to those who, he thought, would be able to pay. But unfortunately, and unforeseen, his principal creditor failed, and in a single day Charles Grant was a bankrupt.

At the time of this sad reverse he was ill of a fever. It was difficult to conceal it from him; but the news had a still more unhappy effect upon him than was anticipated; and from that hour he continued to decline, and in a few weeks was carried to his long home. It was a grievous blow to his wife, with whom her friends most sincerely sympathized, and to whom they tendered for herself and two children-a son and a daughter-all the kind assistance which their circumstances allowed..

On an investigation of Mr. Grant's affairs, his failure proved even worse than was feared; and although the gentleman who had advanced the capital was quite liberal in the settlement of the concern, the widow and her children had but a few hundred dollars, and for most of that she was chiefly indebted, it was thought, to the generosity of her husband's friend.

This result, added to the loss of a fond and truly estimable man, made the shock still more terrible. She felt the calamity keenly, and the more so, as she had no near relatives at hand to condole with her, and was ignorant of the divine consolations of religion. But there was mercy in her cup of sorrow. The Spirit of God came in to heal that troubled spirit, and to sanctify those trials to her soul. And at length she was enabled to bow in humble and quiet submission to the will of God, and betake herself to the support and education of her lovely children, now her solace and delight.

At the time I saw her in the book-store she was in pursuit of a pocket Bible for her son, named Charles, after his father. The purchase was soon made—it was a beautiful edition—not expensive—but just such as a fond and religious mother would wish to present to a son whom she loved, and which she hoped would prove a lamp unto his feet. A further circumstance about this Bible I knew in after years; on presenting it, she turned the attention of the happy little fellow to a blank page in the beginning, on which, in a beautiful wreath, she had inscribed her own name, and under it the words, "To my son," followed by the appropriate and touching lines:

"A parent's blessing on her son

"Goes with this holy thing;
The love that would retain the one
"Must to the other cling.

"Remember 'tis no idle toy,

"A mother's gift-Remember, boy."

And still a little below were printed, in small but beautiful capitals, words which a mother's faith might well appropriate :"HIS LOVING-KINDNESS CHANGES NOT."

At the age of seventeen Charles Grant was a stout, strong,

active youth. He was more than ordinarily ambitious, but as his ambition had not full scope, he was restless, and, I sometimes thought, unhappy. Had his mother, at this critical era of his life, been able to find him some employment suitable to his active and ambitious genius, it would have been fortunate indeed; but she knew of none; and, besides, she needed his aid-but what was more than all, she was alone, and felt that she could not dispense with his company.

About this time a young sailor by the name of Thornton, belonging to the neighborhood, arrived home from a voyage. Charles naturally fell in his way, and was delighted with the story of his wonderful adventures. He listened long and intently. His age and circumstances combined to excite in his ambitious bosom the desire of similar exciting scenes. Without designing any special wrong, young Thornton at length proposed to Charles to accompany him on his next voyage, which he should commence in a few weeks. For a time he hesitated, or rather declined his mother and Alice would never consent, and to leave them by stealth was more than he felt willing to do. Thornton did not urge him, as it afterwards appeared, but Charles was himself strongly inclined to go, while the young sailor was quite willing to have a friend and companion so bright and enterprising as Charles Grant. In an evil hour the latter decided to go, and to go without the knowledge of his mother.

On the night appointed for their departure Charles rose from his bed when all was still, and, softly feeling his way to the door, opened it and escaped. It was a beautiful night; and as he proceeded round the corner of the house to get a small bundle of clothes which he had concealed the day before, his heart beat with unusual violence, and for a few moments a faintness came over him at the thought of leaving a mother and sister, the only objects on earth whom he had ever truly loved. He stopped for a moment, as if meditating a better resolution-and then proceeded to the gate, which he opened and went out. Here he again paused-turned-looked-lingered-hesitated-and even put his hand again on the latchet, half resolved to creep once more to his little bed-room. But at that moment the low call of