that the Father commits to him, and able to keep all things that believers commit to him; able to save to the uttermost, able to help at the last extremity, able to give out all things needful for our various circumstances, and able to do far above all that we can ask or think.-Ralph Erskine

He that lives in sin and expects happiness hereafter, is like him that soweth cockle and thinks to fill his barn with wheat or barley. (Luke vi. 44; Gal. vi. 7, 8,)—Bunyan.

Christ maintains a little grace in his children amidst many strong corruptions and lusts: grace is but a little grain, and yet it lives and thrives; it is an abiding

seed, under continual influences from Christ. (John iii. 5; John xiv. 19.)—Cole.

Now, I have found by experience, that when my judgment went into these things, and my heart has not felt them, they have rather made me giddy; they have brought me into some giddy step or another. My sometimes tell my people, that brain relibrethren, brain religion will not do, and I gion breeds a brain fever; but God brings down a step, and so we are brought to a proper feeling before a heart-searching God. Don't you be satisfied with the knowledge of truth in the judgment; if any one wants to persuade you so, hold such a one as a vagabond, as a man who wants to deceive you.-Gadsby.

Oliver Heywood.

OLIVER HEYWOOD one of the Nonconform ist ministers who were oppressed under the government of the Stuarts, was so hotly persecuted as to be obliged to leave his family and take shelter in concealment. One wintry morning he set out on horseback with not a farthing in his possession, and not a notion as to where he should find a refuge, or so much as an hour's provision. Having crept along by-ways till he reached a district where he supposed himself un known, he resolved to allow his horse to go whithersoever he chose; and the animal having towards evening turned off the road in the direction of a farm-house at some distance, he quietly prepared his mind for whatever sort of reception he might meet. Calling out the master and mistress of the farm, he said, "I have reason to make an apology for giving you this trouble. My horse, as well as myself, stand in much need of refreshment. If you could in any way make it convenient to give the animal a little hay and a stand under cover, and to allow myself a seat through the night at your fireside, I have a hope that God would reward you, though I have not means to pay you for your trouble." They were surprised at his address, but requested him to alight. The master led away the horse to the stable, and the mistress conducted Mr. Heywood into the house, invited him

to be seated, stirred up the fire, and began to prepare him some refreshment. He told her that he was uneasy to see her concerning herself on his account, and as he could not pay for them, did not expect refreshment or attentions; but he was assured of welcome to any accommodation or hospitality which the house could afford. After supper, the master-who had returned and had shown some interest in Mr. Heywood's conversation-asked him what countryman he was, "I was born in Lincolnshire," said the guest, "but I have a wife and family in the neighbourhood of Halifax." "That is a town," replied the farmer, "which I have been in; and some years ago I had a little acquaintance with several persons there. Pray, do you know anything of one Mr. Oliver Heywood, who was formerly minister of a chapel not far from Halifax, but is now, on some account or other, forbidden to preach ?" "There is," said the stranger, “a great deal of noise and talk about that man; some speak well, some speak anything that is bad of him; for my own part, I can say little in his favour." "I believe,' said the farmer, "he is of that sect which is everywhere spoken against; but pray, do you know him personally? and what is it that inclines you to form so indifferent an opinion of his character?" "I do know something of him," replied Mr Heywood, "yet, if you please, I would rather talk on some other subject." But observing that

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happiness that we can afford to have them dried up by the factitious arrangements of society.

But the value of this simple specific, sufficiently apparent in all relations, is especially marked in the family. The whole domestic economy may be entirely vitiated by an occasional harsh word among its members. On the other hand, where the utmost pains are taken to cultivate the habit of speaking kindly and affectionately, every wheel in this beautiful and delicate machinery moves without the least jar or friction.

All this may be sufficiently apparent to most people of ordinary discernment. But I apprehend that with many it may admitted in the abstract, but denied or neglected in its practical details. Parents often find a great deal of fault with their children for any considerable infraction of

the laws of kindness in their intercourse with each other, and perhaps punish them severely for it, although they have omitted to instil into the minds of their children the sentiment of this philosophy of kind words. In most lessons, where virtue and ethics are concerned, positive precepts are of more worth than negative injunctions. If I tell my child not to say a harsh word to his sister, for it is very wrong, and makes her feel unhappy, I give him good counsel, it is true; but the counsel were better still, it seems to me, if I said, "My son, you should learn to speak kindly to your sister always; for it makes her happy to hear you speak so."

I have said that different members of the family should form the habit of speaking kind words. I wish to repeat the proposition, and to add to it, that they should use these words frequently, and even seek occasions for using them. Let no one say that this sentiment, reduced to practice, would induce a want of sincerity, and that it would engender hypocrisy. To speak frequently otherwise than as we feel, would have this tendency. But that is not what I am pleading for. I simply ask, that the habit be formed of exhibiting a spirit of tenderness in the selection of words, and in the tones of voice with which they are uttered. There is among many persons of mature years, an inexhaustible front of kind feeling and affection-all that could be desired in the bosom of the familywhich, nevertheless, almost never finds any outlet. It is there, and that is well; though it were better if it could be expressed in words. It is said, that "actions speak louder than words." Perhaps they do. They have a voice of thunder sometimes, it

cannot be denied. But if they speak louder, they are not always more grateful, methinks. The value of an article is not invariably dependant upon the volume of voice with which it is uttered. The "still, small voice" that spoke to the seer of Israel, was more significant and more precious to him than the blast of the north wind.

It may be said, that, as words are only the indices of ideas, and those who are dear to us are perfectly assured of our kindness and love, there is no necessity for the repetition of these indices. Grant for a moment, that there is no absolute necessity in the case. If there is but a probability that their occasional use will add to the happiness of our friends, certainly, as the cost of them is so trifling, they ought not to be suppressed. But I am by no means sure they are not, in many cases, at least, absolutely necessary. It does not follow, as a matter of course, that because we loved a person tenderly and ardently, half a dozen years ago, that we love him as tenderly and ardently now. And when the husband leads the object of his choice to the altar, and convinces her, by the various modes in which the affections of the heart are expressed, that she is as dear to him as his own life, and that she occupies the place in his heart next to God, it does not certainly follow that he will always love thus. There is a strong probability, it is true; but there is no absolute certainty. There is a mighty power in those words, once pronounced so often, and with so much fervour, "I love you." But when they fail to be used, and the other multiform expressions of love become fewer and fewer, until they almost entirely cease, if a change gradually comes over the spirit of that wife, is it at all wonderful? Is it not, on the other hand, a result perfectly natural and philosophical? I think so. If, by the allotments of a wise Providence, the man's physical system was placed in a state of catalepsy, and he remained in this condition year after year, unable to utter a word or exhibit any signs of consciousness, while his friends had reason to believe the operations of his intellect were undisturbed and as vigorous as ever, the case would be far different. But to know that his heart has the same avenues of communication with the outward world as in former years, and that through those avenues no rills such as once flowed so freely from them may issue to gladden another heart-so closely connected with it—that is hard to bear. It is hard to bear, whichever the suffering party may be-whether a husband or wife, a brother or sister, a son or daughter, a father

or mother. And it should not be so. What if it should seem to us that our friend-the dearest on earth, perhaps expects none of these words of tenderness, looks for none of them, scarcely considers himself entitled to them? Shall we therefore deny them? Shall we refuse to scatter a few seeds which cost us nothing, and which we know will spring up and yield the fruits of gladness along the pathway of that friend?

There is a vast responsibility resting upon every parent, and especially upon every Christian parent, in this matter. The father and mother not only have power, by their example, to infuse a spirit of kindness and love into the entire family circle which shall exhibit itself in corresponding words, but they can contribute greatly to form and foster this spirit in their children, in the green and tender period of childhood and early youth. They can teach them how to employ kind words, so that in time they would become their habitual mode of expression. Words have an effect on the individual who utters them, as well as to those to whom they are addressed. If a person is angry, and speaks angrily, his language will add fuel to the fire. So if a child is assiduously taught early to speak in words only of kindness, those very words will induce a kind and tender spirit. There are a great many parents who regard those little acts of politeness which are accounted proper from members of one family, to those of another, as entirely superfluous among members of the same family. But I do not so regard them-certainly the most of them. I see not, for instance, why those who assemble at the breakfast-table from different apartments in the same house, should not say as hearty a "good morning" to each other, as those who, not connected by family ties, meet accidentally in the street, or at each others' dwellings. I see no reason why such civilities should not be observed by all the members of the family, young and old, in their intercourse with each other. On the contrary, I think I can percieve abundant reason why they should be observed. To use them habitually is to draw the cords of love closer around the family circle; and no agency that will accomplish this is to be despised or lightly esteemed.

I have written more at length on this topic than many will think it demands. But for years I have been deeply impressed with a sense of its importance, and I cannot resist the conviction that it should occupy a higher place in the Christian family than is too frequently assigned to it.

"Mother, I will go."

(From the New Sailor's Magazine.)

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SOME years since, a fine young man, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow, on becoming of age, and receiving his patrimony, entered into company, and indulged in the dissipation of genteel society. Her watchful eye saw his danger, pointed out its tendency to ruin body and soul, and used every argument, persuasion, and entreaty in vain. One day, she learned he was to dine with a large and joyful party, and she spent the forenoon in persuading him to relinquish it, but all in vain. "Mother, I will go!" "Then, John, I will retire to my closet, and pray for you, till I see your face again." He went to the party, but could find no enjoyment; the thought of his mother being on her knees, wrestling with God in prayer for him, formed such a contrast to the scene before him, that he slipped away-found his mother in the act of prayer-knelt down by her-fell on her neck-and, from that day, became the delight of his pious mother's heart, 'a brand plucked from the burning.' A religious parent's prayers are never offered in vain.

Formation of Character.

THE education of the human mind commences in the cradle; and the impressions received there frequently exert their influence through the whole of life. Principles which take the deepest root, are those implanted during the seasons of infancy, childhood, and youth. The young pupil takes early lessons from every thing around him; his character and habits are forming before he has any consciousness of his reasoning powers. The grand principles by which he is chiefly actuated, are always formed according to the customs and the principles prevalent in the country or intimate connexion where he is placed, until

"What softer nature starts at with affright The hard inhabitant contends is right."

Good Advice.

THE celebrated Grotius, one of the most learned men the world ever knew, was in his last illness attended by a friend, who desired him, in his great wisdom and learning, to give him a short direction how to lead his life to the best advantage: to whom he only said, BE SERIOUS!