them good. They presently begin to love this happy and amiable sister-though she does profess to be so very religious. "I thought she would be very gloomy say they, but she seems to be happier than any of us. How bright she looks when she comes down in the morning; and she is always so ready to oblige us. I thought she would spend all her time in reading the Bible, and praying to God, and going to meeting; and would reprove us whenever she saw us at play. But no, she very often joins us in our amusements, and some of them she likes very much, as she says, the exercise is good for her health, and that it is the duty of a Christian to take good care of the health, that God has given. She saves her health for God's service. She seems to love God very much, and says she cannot love him half enough, nor do half enough for him, when he has done so much for her. I wonder what makes her feel so. I don't think. I love God much. I feel afraid when I think of him."

"How much she values her Bible. She reads it a great deal, and says she loves to read it better than any book, because her Saviour speaks to her in that book, and tells her what to do for him. But then she reads other books besides, and takes a great interest in her studies, and in ours; and says we ought to be very diligent in

cultivating our minds, and in improving our taste; for these things will make us more useful. She always goes to church on Sabbath, and often in the week-and I do believe she would rather spend a week evening at meeting, than at a tea-party. But she does not go to all the meetings, for she says, we have a great variety of duties to perform, and some one has written, that "one duty must never appear, stained with the murder of another." I wish I was more

like my sister. I should like to be useful, and to love God, and be happy like her. I will go and ask her what I shall do."

Will not the Saviour bless an influence like this? Did he not often thus accommodate himself to the pre-possessions and feelings of men? And what says the chiefest apostle? "I am all` things, to all men, if by any means I may win some."

THE CHRISTIAN WIFE AND MOTHER.

Perhaps this warm-hearted Christian is a wife, whose dearest earthly friend is a stranger to the "blessed hope" of the gospel. But in her efforts to bring him to the Saviour, she avoids

those injudicious steps so often taken. She is not always talking to him on the subject of his criminal indifference, or mistaken views, or forever agitating the troubled waters of controversy, thus embittering his home and his fireside, and opening still wider the unhappy breach that exists between them,-nor does she, however much she may prize the privileges of social worship, forsake too frequently her home and her family, the scene of her first and most imperious duties, to attend upon every meeting, and every benevolent society within her reach? The Christian wife and mother feels that next to her duties to God, stand her duties to her household. She may be called a Missionary" in the midst of her family. How shall she lift their hearts to God?

of

Her first desire is to make home pleasant and inviting. "I will keep them with me," says she; "thus will they be withdrawn from the scene, a vast many snares and temptations." But how shall I make home a happy place to them, where they shall love best to be ?-See! it is evening -the labors of the day are finishing-the schools have closed-husband and children are coming home. Just look into the cheerful parlor prepared for their reception. How neat and healthful the tea equipage, spread for the even

ing meal. Alone, by the fresh-trimmed fire sits the devoted wife and mother. She is communing with her God. A silent, but heart-felt petition is going up to the throne of grace, for a blessing upon the dear group soon to come in; for a blessing on the evening employments; even for a fall of "the dews of the spirit"—that some heart may be softened, some mind enlightened, and that some feeling of penitence may rise in the heart. As the prayer, like sweet incense, is lightly ascending; the wearied husband comes in. And can he enter this hallowed scene of domestic love and heavenly piety, with a ruffled brow, and a rugged heart? Oh, no. The brow will grow smooth, the heart will soften, for the cloud of incense has gone up, and answering blessings are distilling as "the dew." children come in-the tea-table is surrounded; and from one heart at least, the desire ascends, that the repast may be partaken with gratitude. It is a temperate meal, served up with gladness.

The

But now comes the better entertainment, "the feast of reason, and the flow of soul." The Christian mother feels that a cultivated mind is more friendly to religion than an ignorant one. At all events it is sin, to neglect the improvement of any talent committed to us. She has therefore now, spread the table with books and

papers, not religious exclusively, (though a few, of the best selected of that character, and best calculated to do good, will be found there,) but books literary and political, which her husband has brought home to read, where he can enjoy them best-in his own quiet parlor. And there are interesting stories for the children ; true to nature, and good taste, and to morality; if not to religion-for instance Miss Edgeworth's "Parent's Assistant," and perhaps, "The Memoir of Nathan W. Dickerman," and books of like character. Now look at the picture-there sit the Parents, side by side, one in affection, and you might almost think them one in heart. The children have gathered around the table, first beginning to learn their lessons for school, before reading the interesting stories; for mother says, "you know children, duty before pleasure. The maps are spread; the slates are out; and mother sits by, with her work basket before her, and needle in hand, ready to encourage and explain—while little Lucy, who is too young to read herself, is very usefully employed under mama's direction, in regulating the work basket; in winding up the spools, in tying the thread papers, and laying all things in their places; thus learning a lesson of order and regularity, whose influence shall be felt