our deficiencies in parental government are most likely to be; and I rather think we are in danger of erring on the side of indulgence. Many things would naturally. incline us to this; and it is a fault which would bear most ruinously upon our children, especially upon our sons. It is of great importance that they should discover in us no inconsistencies, to lessen their confidence in our judgment, and no impatience and irritation at their miscarriages, to weaken their persuasion of our piety. While their faults should never be connived at, they should be met with such a spirit, as to convince them at once, that it is not the trouble they give us that disturbs our minds, but the sin they have committed against God. Absolute obedience should be insisted on. Nothing short of this should ever be allowed to. answer. When we see the proud spirit rising, and threatening rebellion, let us take the Bible, and, while, we show our children the awful guilt we should incur by suffering them to resist our authority with impunity, let us assure them that, by the grace of God, we never will incur this guilt; that we will labour till our latest. breath, to enforce upon them the reasonableness and the necessity of yielding an unreserved obedience to all God's commandments, of which, "Children, obey your parents in all things," is one. I was struck a few days. ago with what God said to Eli concerning his children, Seè 1 Sam. ii. 27-30. It seems to me that no Christian parent can expect God to bless his children, unless he "honours" Him, by requiring of them obedience to all that he has commanded. And when they, ostensibly and unequivocally, fail of doing this, it should be treated as a great sin, with which God is especially displeased in them, on account of their peculiar relation to his church.

Let me urge you never to yield to despondency. Remember him who hath said, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." The permission of these mental distresses on the part of God is necessary to show us our

weakness. So far all is right. But we should not yield to them. We should not suffer them to cast a veil over our spiritual vision, and prevent our discerning the light and grace and strength of Him who is the Author and Finisher of all our graces, and all our hopes. Let us trust him for ever.

TO MRS. W., THEN AT J., N. Y.

Boston, July 28, 1822.

That

IT has been like October the last week. I don't know how it is, but autumn is my favourite season. It used to be dull to me. The falling of the leaves, and the undressing of nature, occasioned feelings of melancholy. But it is otherwise now. There is a pensiveness, a tranquil sadness, (if we can be sad without being unhappy,) cast over me now, by the return of this season; but it is a quiet, serene feeling, which whispers of spirits departed to a quiet world beyond the sky, where the hurried pursuits, and gilded temptations, and heart-breaking sorrows, of life, are unknown. autumn of the soul, that peaceful advancement toward the termination of the season of trial, which the faithful Christian experiences when his labours and his conflicts are nearly over, seems, in the contemplation," very refreshing to me. But these enjoyments are for the faithful Christian. They must be gained by many a weary step, many a painful struggle, many a hardearned victory. This is the time for resisting, striving, fighting. May we gird on the whole armour of God, and never lose, at least this one evidence of our adoption, a firm and resolute resistance of sin, the enemy that must be conquered, or all our hopes will be found to have been vain.

TO MRS. S. AT BRIDGEWATER.

Boston, August 2, 1822.~

M. THE Lord hath taken, and now S. is dangerously sick. You seem, my dear madam, called to various trials of your faith; and I suppose you sometimes feel that your cup of sorrow is overflowing. Yet, notwithstanding all the heart-breaking certainties of actual experience, and all the dreary anticipations of unknown difficulties to come, let me say to you, my dear afflicted friend, trust in the Lord, for "none of them that trust in him shall be desolate." "As thy days, so shall thy strength be." He will not lay more upon you than he will enable you to bear. Does he not know all your circumstances, all your necessities? And is he unfaithful, that he should call those who trust in his promises and seek his aid, to any trials which he will not give them strength to endure, to any duties which he will not give them grace to perform? "Commit thy way unto the Lord;" yea, "trust in him at all times." If he cuts you off from creatures, it is to drive you to himself. Let this end be gained, and all will yet be well. Yes, your weary footsteps shall be safely guided through this rugged path. The way may be watered with your tears; but it is the way of his people, it is the way of the Lord. It is the path of conflict indeed; but it shall prove to you the path of victory, and its end shall be heaven.

With most of us there is a fearful prevalence of unbelief and spiritual sloth. The fire from heaven may have been kindled in our hearts, but it is smothered, and nearly extinguished, beneath the mass of sin and death which cleaves to us. It cannot warm our own souls; no wonder then we are unable to communicate light and warmth to others. Alas! how often do I feel it to be so with myself; and that I am dreadfully guilty, not only of preventing my own growth in grace, but of de

frauding others of the improvement which they might, perhaps, derive from me, if my soul were in a right state; for who is the Christian so mean, so low, that may not communicate to others the flame of holy affection which is glowing in his own heart? And if afflictions may rouse us from this spiritual insensibility, shall we not willingly suffer?

August 3. Among the trials of my present situation, (which, blessed be God! is more pleasant than I ever expected it to be in this world,) that of feeling myself continually liable to ungenerous remark, is one! My natural disposition is frank and affectionate. But I sometimes fear, lest the most innocent expressions of feeling should be misconstrued, and the most innocent remarks misapprehended. I always thought myself unusually exact in my notions of female propriety. It is what I have respected myself for, or, perhaps more properly, been proud of. And there is a particular vexation in being the subject of remark to little minds, who are wholly unable to appreciate the principles by which persons of elevated and refined feelings are guided. But why all this uneasy and restless disturbance of my proud heart? Who am I, to expect an exemption from the common lot of the youthful widow ? Help me, Lord, to avoid even the appearance of evil, and mourn over what is wrong, and quietly leave the rest to thee.

TO A FRIEND AT ANDOVER.

Bridgewater, August 26, 1822. I HAVE Concluded to send my son to your academy. Maternal attachment pleaded hard in favour of retaining him in Boston, but judgment prevailed. I feel many new anxieties for him; and turning him abroad upon a world which lieth in wickedness, seems full of danger. But I am not his keeper ; and, whether with me

or from me, his only security is in the grace of Him who is able to deliver from temptation, to whom I gave him at his baptism, and endeavour in faith to commit him. every day.

TO HER SON, AT PHILIPS' ACADEMY, ANDOVER. 500

Boston, September 27, 1822. My dear J., you have been accustomed to come to me in all your difficulties, as your friend and adviser. What I have been to you, my son, 1 shall always be while I live. I wish you to write freely to me. Tell me what are your trials and enjoyments. Speak freely to me of your faults. And let me assure you, your heart will always be in the wrong when you are unwilling to do this. Your case will be alarming indeed, if you ever yield to a disposition to conceal your faults. Mr. C. is your friend. Never think him the less so. because he tells you your faults. It is the best possible proof he can give you of his love, What motive can he have of reproving you, but a desire to promote your welfare? Receive his counsels and admonitions then with gratitude. Remember, my dear boy, you were not sent to Andover to trifle. You were not created to trifle. You were made to act for the glory of God, and the good of mankind. Let your daily endeavour be, to live as one who must soon give account to God. Daily pray, Lead me not into temptation. And never do any thing which conscience tells you God does not approve. Farewell my child. The God of your fathers bless and sanctify you.

October 5. I have had, to-night, a deep and solemn sense of the certainty and nearness of eternal things; more of a strengthening faith to perceive the substance and feel the evidence of things hoped for and unseen,

His guardian at Andover