"Yes, ma'am," said he-now hanging his head and beginning to twist his little fingers in his mouth. "Yes, my child you did very wrong. The Bible says "Thou shalt not steal," and it bids us "Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy," but you have not done so; you have offended God and you have displeased me, and you have set a bad example. And besides you knew that you were doing wrong; you felt guilty, and because you felt guilty you hid yourself behind the bed, and when I called you, you did not come and here again you broke another command, which says, "children, obey your parents. Your little sister thought you looked cunning; but I hope that little sister will never think so again. You tried by your looks and actions to smooth over the bad deed,--Ah! you have done very wrong. Your father will be home soon, and I must tell him. I am sure he will be displeased; but what he will think best to be done, I cannot say."

I had remained in the room thus long, and had attended with great satisfaction to the appropriate manner in which this faithful mother had treated a delicate case. But thinking it no longer courteous to stay, especially as the father was now at hand, and might wish to be alone with his family, I retired to my chamber. As to the subsequent discipline I was not informed; but from the specimen of maternal faithfulness which I had witnessed, and the reference of the matter to the father, I could not doubt but that the occasion was seized to administer appropriate discipline and advice.

On reaching my chamber, I could not but reflect upon the numerous similar occurrences in almost every family, and upon the importance of parental faithfulhess in relation to them. They indeed often appear quite trivial; and connected as they not unfrequently are with a kind of cunning, bespeaking more than common capacity in the child, are wont to be passed by, not only without censure, but even with applause. Yet, when more minmtely examined, instead of appearing to be trifles, they will wear the aspect of serious evils. We are apt to be amused with show. We forget that the noxious weed may send forth a beautiful flower; that behind the most attracting exterior may lurk the darkest

designs. So behind the curtain of these pretty infantile tricks, these amusing transgressions, may lie the germ of all future disobedience. They may be the prelude to a wide dparture from the path of truth and duty, the first overflowings of a fountain which will ultimately send forth bitterness and death. Let it not be thought, then, that these early transgressions are small matters. They are an indication of the "man of sin" within; true, that man may be yet ungrown, but give him exercise-ad minister aliment, and he will attain, in process of time, tc the strength and daring of Goliah of Gath. The small theft of an orange, unrebuked in a child, may lead that child in maturer years to crimes to be expiated only in the solitude of a prison, or by the infamy and agony of the gallows. It was an humbler fruit

-whose mortal taste

Brought death into the world, and all our woe.

Parents cannot, therefore, be too sagacious in marking the early actions of their children, which involve violations of the principles of truth and honesty and uprightness; nor too faithful in counteracting the strong tendency to such violations, which they will ever perceive in their children. No more sacred duty exists; no greater parental obligation can be imposed. The faithful discharge of this duty may be connected with the eternal weal of our children. Kindly and conscientiously performed, the attended blessing of God may be anticipated with nearly the same certainty, that if wheat be sowed, wheat will be harvested; but if neglected, tares only will grow-vicious fruit only succeed, unless a Providence more kind than parental apathy, shall itself sow a better seed, and cultivate a neglected soil. He that sows to the flesh-to the carnal mind of his child-shall as surely reap corruption in respect to that child, as he will in respect to himself. If we would reap everlasting life for our selves and our children, we must sow unto the spirit.

The Converted Husband.

In a village in one of the New England States, some

years since, at the commencement of a powerful revival of religion, among other individuals who came to converse with their minister upon religious topics, was a Mrs. B., the mother of a large and interesting family. Two of her children were already grown to maturity. She informed her pastor that she had entertained a hope of an interest in the Savior for sixteen years; but that she had been induced to defer uniting herself to the people of God by the remonstrances of her husband. By his great kindness, he had acquired such an ascendency over her affections, that to please him, had been, she feared, the chief object of her wishes and pursuits. Within a few weeks, her eyes had been opened to perceive the superior claims of the gospel. She now realized for the first time that her husband and children were traveling the broad road together. They had never reared a family altar.

Although from custom they frequented the house of God on the Sabbath, yet the truths of the Bible had never found a lodgment in any of their hearts. She now felt satisfied that it was her duty to take up her cross, and to follow Christ. "I have been deluded," said Mrs. B., " by the belief that my way was hedged up by an insurmountable obstacle. I have substituted the good opinion of my husband for the approbation and smiles of my Savior." "I advise you to converse with your husband on the subject," said her minister. Mrs. B. replied, "I have of late repeatedly urged my husband to yield his consent; but he says if I profess religion, he will never live with me. another day. Though I fear the consequences of going forward in the way that my conscience dictates, may be painful, yet I fear still more the evils that threaten my family, if I continue to neglect a known and positive duty." Her minister promised to propound her for admission.

On returning home from worship, on the day that she was received into the church, Mr. B. told his wife, as sho knew his mind on the subject of her professing religion, he should be consistent with his former declarations, and ordered separate lodgings to be prepared for him that night. His wife silently and implicitly acceded to his wishes.

The next morning he told his family that imperious business called him from home to be absent for a few days,

His horses and carriage were soon in readiness, and he hastily and abruptly left his dwelling.

Mrs. B. now felt the necessity of exercising that faith which is an anchor to the soul. But she said within herself, "Shall a man complain for the punishment of his sins?"

Immediately on Mr. B.'s leaving home, Mrs. B. requested her eldest daughter to manage the household concerns in the best manner she was able, that she might herself enjoy the privilege of retiring, with her Bible, to her closet. The day was spent in fasting and prayer, and in reading lessons of heavenly wisdom from the word of God.

To her great joy, every page seemed to be illumined as with a sunbeam. She now felt that she could endure the loss of all things for the sake of him who bore her sins in his own body on the tree. Her soul, though elevated above the perishable things of time and sense, was in heav. iness at the thought of an eternal separation from him she so dearly loved-from the companion of her youth, and perhaps too, from her beloved children. She upbraided herself as an accessory, if not the guilty occasion of their life of worldliness; for had she fulfilled the sacred obligations imposed by an early hope of reconciliation to God, her husband and her children might, long since, have been devout worshippers in the courts of the Lord.

It was nearly sunset, when the noise of rattling wheels arrested her attention. Till now, no external object had disturbed her thoughts. The door suddenly opened, and her husband stood pale and trembling by her side.

"My dear wife," he exclaimed, "can you forgive your misguided husband? I have learnt by sad experience this day, by the way side, that my opposition against you originated in hostility to the claims of God. Can you forgive me, and will you supplicate the forgiveness of God for me? for I have no cloak or excuse for the least of my sins."

Under an overwhelming sense of the goodness of God, in thus subduing and enlightening the mind of her deares earthly friend, they prostrated themselves in the attitude of prayer, and wept, and confessed before the Lord thei sins of heart and life. Mr. B. informed his wife, that on

leaving her in the morning, he went in direct opposition to the dictates of an enlightened conscience; that her silent and acquiescent conduct proved to him indubitably the efficacy of religion; and when contrasted with his own feelings, then "lashed into a storm," his soul was filled with shame and remorse. At times he expected to be dashed to the ground; twice he alighted from his carriage, and falling upon his knees, he would have confessed his sin and guilt; but his mind was dark and his heart was hard. He faintly ejaculated, "God be merciful to me a sinner." But on resuming his seat in the carriage, with an involuntary grasp he held the rains, as if his horses were hurrying him forward with uncommon velocity. His business was at M., sixteen miles distant from his home. At eleven o'clock he had progressed but eight miles on his way. Under a horse-shed he tried to compose his mind, but in vain; he found himself wholly incapable of attending to any worldly business. He endeavored to rid himself of such uncomfortable reflections as crowded upon his mind with a force which he was unable to resist. For several hours, he felt like the guilty murderer flying from justice. At length he perceived that his opposition to God had manifested itself by the indulgence of ill will towards his affectionate wife. He resolved at once to return home, and ingenuously confess to her, and ask her forgiveness. On doing so, the scales of unbelief fell from his eyes, and tears of gratitude and penitence flowed in abundance.

Mr. B. immediately resolved on a religious life, which he determined to commence by rearing a family altar. But he had a stammering tongue; and so slow was his speech, that he trembled, lest, in his attempt to honor God, he might expose himself to the ridicule of his grown up sons, and other adult members of his family. He hesitated and delayed. His business at M. yet unaccomplished, was really pressing, and demanded immediate. attention. He retired to his closet to ask the Lord to assist him in the duty of family prayer on the following Friday. But his mouth was shut. How could he ask the Lord to assist him to do a duty on Friday, which he might not live to perform then, and which was manifestly a present duty? He saw the inconsistency of suck