lesson on the folly and misery of self-flattery respecting beauty', might check the rising vanity of his dear niece.

"I never," said he', "pass the grave of Ellen without shedding tears. When I first knew that girl, she was a scholar in the same sabbath-school in which I was teacher. She was thought very pretty'; and there was a womanly grace about her deportment, which made her a universal favorite. And then she was modest, obliging, easily managed', and, withal, attentive to her lesson. These different traits of character wore upon me so much, that, if she had been my own child, I could not have loved her more. Often, often, have I prayed that the only other grace which she need, (that of godliness',) might be added to her. But alas`, an answer to those prayers never camè; and that sweet girl, who, of all children in the school, I most desired to see a Christian', left the least hope of all, when she died, that she went to heaven!

seemed to

"We are all very slow to notice the faults and vices of those whom we love. Other people began to find fault with Ellen, before I could see any thing amiss. For awhile I would not believe them'; but, as they were her friends', I watched', and soon found that a change for the worse was taking place. I then sought for the cause of it', and found that the worm at the root, which was blighting this pleasant flower', was the vanity of conscious beauty. Oh, how soon do young girls learn to take pride in the perishing body'; and how slow are they to learn the worth of the immortal soul! One of the first fruits of her pride was the love of dress; and she soon became distinguished as our gayest scholar."

"One who imbibes a good opinion of herself cannot bear reproof'; and, in consequence, her faithful teacher, who frequently applied pungent truths to her conscience', became an object of dislike. Next, she made the girls of her age in the school' (with the exception of three or four',) feel her imaginary superiority', either by silent reserve', or ill-concealed contempt. She showed other tokens of evil, but I will mention only one more. Long before she reached womanhood', and just at the age when children begin to understand religious instruction', and are most interesting to the teacher', she got the notion that she was too old to go to school! I am glad, my dear, that you do not indulge this absurd opinion; for children of your age, more than those

who are younger', need the teachings and restraints of religion. Besides', I think that every one, grown or small', should be either a teacher or a scholar. Religious instruction is so important, both for this world and the next', that we ought to continue it, either in teaching or in being taught', as long as we live."

"The persuasions of a few friends kept Ellen a few months longer in the school'; but she became so restless and impatient at the irksome task, and her influence was becoming so injurious to her class', that it was thought best not to constrain' her to come'; and she left the school as gladly as a caged bird escapes, when some careless hand leaves the gate of its little home unfastened."

"The same vanity which had led Ellen through these exhibitions of character, made her anxious to show herself in society'; and as these traits would not be noticed in the eyes of the worldly-minded', and as her manners were sprightly and attractive, she was much noticed and flattered by the ungodly. A subscription was raised among these for the employment of a dancing master, whom Providence threw in their way', and who, like most of his kind, carried more brains in his heels than in his head. She took her place regularly at every cotillion. When that season of folly was over, recourse was had to extravagant parties'; so that, in a year after Ellen left Sunday School, she was in the inner circle of the whirlpool of fashion and dissipation. The religious instruction which she had received seemed all to be as water that is spilled on the ground, and cannot be gathered. Oh, how often did I sigh over the wreck of my hopes and prayers!"

"About a year after this, her mother died. She had often exerted a restraining influence over her child, but had, for a year or two, contented herself with hoping that she would lose her giddiness, and settle down into sobriety, as she grew up. Ellen always loved her mother, and seldom went directly against her will'; but through her influence over her father, she almost always succeeded in gaining her mother over to her views. The shock of her death sobered her for a brief period', during which I had hopes that she would turn from her folly. But, not long after this, a ball was projected', at which, it was reported', a young lady of great beauty, from a neighboring city, was to be present', and who, it was said', would eclipse every rival. Ellen heard this

gossip'; and, as her own pride of heart told her that no one was so pretty as herself, she determined that nobody should think that she had a superior. Accordingly, on the appointed night, she cast off her still fresh mourning', clad herself in her gayest dress, and made her appearance in the festive room. Eager hands were offered for the honor of her company in the mazes of the giddy dance; and her pleasure would have been complete', if she had not noticed that the rival stranger attracted still more favor than herself. Her vexed heart could not bear its own jealousy, and long before the hour of breaking up', she left the room to return home. At that early hour no carriage was in attendancè; and she chose to walk home, in a wintery night, clad in her thin dress and light shoes."

“That night was a sleepless one-partly from vexation, and partly because she felt unwell. She found, next day, that she had taken a severe cold, in consequence of her exposure the evening before. She neglected suitable remedies, until it ripened into disease. Before long it was evident that consumption had fastened on her constitution. The luster of her eye waned', the bloom of her complexion faded', except when it was flushed by diseasè; the fullness of her cheek wasted', and her light step became feeble. At the season when gentle spring was giving fresh life to every thing, and calling forth into her walks every creaturé, she was confined to the housè;-soon after, to her room';-and next', to her bed. I was anxious to see her, and at length went, though uninvited. When she heard that I was below, she sent a request that I would come up. She received me kindly; for she had always expressed great regard for me, and she knew that, though I condemned her follies, I still earnestly longed for her welfare. But when I drew her mind to the subject of religion', and suggested the necessity of a preparation for death', I could see the scowl of offence on her brow.. She candidly told me, that she had no pleasure in such thoughts', and that she would see no company that would introduce such conversation. I left her, with the painful conviction that my visit was both an ungracious and hopeless one."

"I need not weary you," continued Mr Green', "nor distress myself', by any further details of her sickness. She sunk rapidly'; and one day, while a thoughtless friend was reading to her a chapter in a new novel', she sunk unconsci

ously in death. I always feel, when I think of her, and especially when I look on her gravé, that her beauty was her curse', and the stumbling block over which she fell, I fear', into endless perdition."

Although her uncle did not say that he intended this melancholy narrative for Mary's warning', yet she felt that he mêant it; and she silently resolved, as he finished it, that thenceforth' she would set no value on beauty`, but seek rather to adorn the mind', and to grow in grace'; which, after all, are the only useful and enduring forms of loveliness.

LESSON LX.

THE THEATER.

As I was one day walking out for my accustomed exercise, a gentleman passed me in his carriage, and invited me to ride with him. He is a gentleman of wealth and distinction', and of an elevated and pious character. He came to the city when young', without friends', without money', without reputation', without any extrinsic means whatever' of getting started in business. Soon after I took a seat with him', two young men of dissipated air, with cigars in their mouths, dashed furiously by us in a chaise. "There," said hè, “are two young men going fast to ruin." This incident turned our conversation upon the exposures and the ruin of young men in the city. He remarked that most of the young men, who came to live in the city at the same time he did', had already gone to ruin. I told him that the interest which I felt in young men prompted the inquiry, how it came to pass that he escaped, and by what means he had succeeded so well in life'?

He replied, that when he came to the city, it was under the conviction that he had himself to make'; that he then laid down some rules, which he had stedfastly observed. Among them are the following-that he would always attend meeting upon the Sabbath'; that he would never read loose and infidel writings', nor attend infidel meetings`; that he would devote a portion of his time to some profitable study'; that he would be always diligent and faithful in business, however discouraging things might look'; that

he would not frequent shops of refreshment', unless for necessary food'; that he would form no alliance with any individuals, for society or amusement', till he knew them to be virtuous and safe companions'; and that he would not go to the theater till he was forty-five years old', when, he supposed, he should be above the reach of any injury from that source. Long before he reached that age he became a pious man, and of course he now finds higher sources of pleasure than the theater-a place which he never visited. Another youth, who came to the city at the same time, and from the same place with hīm, took lodgings at a house with some theater-going young men'-was prevailed upon to go for once then again—and again—became loose in his principles and habits-one wrong step led on to another', until he went headlong to ruin', and found an infamous grave! And this, he remarked, had been the sad history of many, who, with him, began their career in life.

LESSON LXI.

SELECTIONS FROM THE PROVERBS OF SOLOMON.

WHOSO mocketh the poor reproacheth his Maker; and he that is glad at calamities shall not be unpunished.

He that covereth a transgression seeketh lovè, but he that repeateth a matter separateth friends.

The beginning of strife is as when one letteth out water'; therefore, leave off contention before it be meddled with.

A friend loveth at all times', and a brother is born for adversity.

A foolish son is a grief to his father', and bitterness to her that bore him.

Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace', is counted wise`; and he that shutteth his lips is considered a man of understanding.

Before destruction' the heart of man is haughty', and before honor is humility.

A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city`; and their contentions are like the bars of a castle.

Death and life are in the power of the tongue'; and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof..