Disposition is first a yielding twig; a branch next; and then

a tree.

""Tis education forms the early mind;

“Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.”

If the branch be left to mature its own crookedness, who can straighten it? If by superior force it is then bent to its place for a moment, remove the restraint, and it flies back to its native deformity.

That web of habit, daughter of Eve, is mostly for thee to break; or if thou hast neglected it, that twine, or that cord. Haste then in thy duty, lest, if thou delay, the strength of the cable mock thy feebleness.

That young yielding twig is mostly for thy care and patience to rear. Suffer it not to grow crooked and unlovely; bind it to its position by constant attention; and when it is matured and stands noble as Lebanon, and blooms fair as the myrtle, thou wilt not regret thy years of anxiety and untold seasons of maternal perplexity. It will give honor to thy bleached head of infirmity, and peace to thy death-bed. Thine own happiness is bound up with thine offspring; thou art shaping thy felicity as well as their destiny. Thou art leading to heaven or guiding to misery. Thou art weaving a wreath for the brow of thy children, a shroud of despair, or a mantle of shame. Thou needest the counsel of experience and the step of discretion. Shall a mother live without prayer, when so much depends upon her doings? Let her make friends with "that Friend that sticketh closer than a brother;" and let her be on intimate terms with that One who can afford her unerring counsel.

Ladies, I approve of your Association. I will render it any service of which I am capable. Pressed as you are with such solicitude, trembling under your responsibilities, I wonder not that you occasionally flock together: human beings are of sympathetic nature; and especially your sex.

If man has superior strength, he has not your tenderness. Do his cares drive him to solitude? yours lead to society. Does he love to commune with himself? you will hold intercourse with each other. And yet man, with all his distant coldness, with all

his self-sufficiency, feels at times the need of his brother. If he would accomplish any thing of importance, he pleads assistance, and seeks for it by association. This has been his history from the tower in Shinar to the Mexican pyramids; from the Grecian phalanx to the modern brigade. Would he till the ground successfully, he has his fairs. Would he acquire wealth, he has his corporations. Would he pursue the arts, literature, or science successfully, he gathers in groups, and dares not tread alone the rugged path. He has assemblies of peace and councils of war. He finds that co-operation is the pillar of support to the state; that it secures victory in war; that it lights up the dark avenue to learning; and that it is the anchor of religion.

Does it not then become you, ladies, in your responsible duties, to associate together? If man, the stronger, man the less sympathetic, if he finds it important, would you be wise in neglecting it? Yours are concerns of no ordinary moment. Man may guide the destinies of empires; but you, mothers, you form the character of man himself. As his nature is moulded he gives character to the world he governs. Thus you perceive that, indirectly, mothers give character to the world itself.

Seek then by association all the aid you may find. Let not indolence cause you to linger in the pathway of wisdom. Having no lyceum of discussion, no hall of debate, it is proper that the temple of prayer should fling open its door and invite your deliberations to its holy altar.

It is meet that trusts so sacred, labors so important, influence so momentous, should shun the confusion of worldly assemblies, and mingling religion with their discussions, should sit down beneath the brooding wings of piety, and there mingle with earth, with heaven, at once.

May you return to your domestic cares deeply impressed with your responsibilities, determined faithfully to discharge your duties, and hoping and trusting in the grace of the living God for

success.

Hath He said it, and will He not do it? hath He declared it, and shall it not be so? "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."

For the Mother's Magazine.

TO A YOUTHFUL BRIDE.

N- Dec. 21, 1842.

MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND-You will probably be surprised at seeing my signature; and your first feeling may be one of disappointment that this large sheet had not been filled by some more familiar hand. But, believe me, there are few beyond your own family-circle who feel a more tender interest in your welfare, both here and hereafter, than does the mother of that sweet girl who but little more than a year since sat with you in this very room, engaged in cheerful conversation. The snows of winter rest upon her bosom; while the friend that sat by her side is enjoying the most unalloyed of earthly bliss, that which fills the heart and the hopes of the youthful bride. Well do I remember the time when I became a wife. How full was my cup of present joy, and how ardent my anticipations of future happiness! Dear E-, have you felt this same delusion fastening itself about your heart? Have you settled down in the belief that you are now truly happy, and that if this could but last for ever it would satisfy your soul? Suffer me to assure you that it is not so. "The fondness of a creature's love" is not sufficient to fill the soul that was made to enjoy God for ever. When I first tasted the joys of pardoned sin, (after having yielded, as I trust, my heart to its rightful sovereign,) I had added to the happiness of a wife the untold joys of a mother; and yet I well remember saying to a young friend, four days after that blessed change, “I have experienced more happiness during the last four days than in my whole life beside." Since that time I have been called to stand by the death-bed of a beloved mother and of a revered father and of a daughter who was as dear to me as my own soul: and these repeated afflictions have but taught me more and more of the value of that Almighty arm which alone can sustain under

sorrows like these. Long may it be, my dear young friend, ere you know the heart of an orphan! May your heart never bleed as mine has bled! Yet in this world which sin has spoiled, "trials must and will befall." But were your cup of earthly bliss constantly to overflow, and not one drop of the bitter waters of affliction ever mingle with it, yet, believe me, you will find "an aching void" within, unless you enthrone the Eternal God in your affections, and make every other object subservient to him. Love your husband, your parents, your brothers and sister as much as you please, only love Infinite Beauty, Infinite Excellence, Infinite Dignity more. And is not this right, to appreciate objects according to their relative value? All that you can imagine of created loveliness and purity and majesty combined, falls infinitely short of what is to be found in the blessed God. Think of the innumerable company of spirits who have never sinned, who nevertheless vail their faces as they cry continually, "Holy, holy, holy!" And have you no feeling of reverence in unison with theirs? Think of the blessed throng of the redeemed who cast their crowns at the Savior's feet, and, with emotions unknown to earth, sing as they bow, "Unto Him who loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood,-to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever!" And has this Savior no claims upon your grateful praise and your willing service? Dear E―, sin has truly blinded the mind, and perverted the affections, and ruined the soul! Well do I remember when the Savior was to me "as a root out of dry ground," in whom I saw no form nor comeliness why I should desire him. Never would I forget that he "sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God," and by this wonderful act laid me under infinite and unchanging obligations to be wholly his, and to use all my powers for him. This is my Beloved and this is my Friend," "the Chief among ten thousand, and the One altogether lovely," whom I would commend to your warmest love, your highest admiration, your adoring praise, your obedient and constant service. Think of the relations you sustain to your God and Savior. He it is who created your body, so "fearfully and wonderfully made." He gave you your rational powers, and made

you capable of knowing and serving and enjoying him. He has bestowed upon you an existence which is to last as long as his own throne endures. He gave you that best of earthly blessings, a praying mother, who devoted you to him in baptism, and who has often renewed that consecration in her closet. When the hand of disease pressed upon you, and anxious friends feared that you were about to be laid in an early grave, he redeemed your life from destruction," and took from your side one not less beloved, but, as we believe, more prepared. All this he has done for you individually, in addition to what he did when he bought you with his blood. And now I appeal to all that is ingenuous within you, have you made him any proper returns? By all these mercies he has been pleading with you, "Open unto me, for my head is wet with the dew, and my locks with the drops of the night."

"He's waited long, is waiting still;
"You treat no other friend so ill!”

Dear E9 my heart yearns over you, as the first-born of my early friend, and the loved companion of my sainted child. Since I am denied the privilege of doing any thing more for her whom I was permitted to train for heaven, I long to bear some humble part in preparing her young friends to follow her thither. It is my constant prayer that her sweet example while in health, and her holy triumph in view of death, may lead them to seek the Savior in whom she trusted, and to follow her in the path of early piety. I have remembered you and your dear husband before the Mercy Seat, and have with tears invoked for you His favor which "is life," and his loving-kindness which is “better than life." "Seek first the kingdom of God," and all of earthly bliss that is best for you will assuredly be added.

Your dear mother misses you much, as I too well know; but she hopes to see you again. God grant she may not be disappointed! Oh that you would rejoice her heart by telling her, in your very next letter, that you and your dear husband and brother have come to the blessed resolution to serve the Lord!