there nothing there which you could regret?-nothing originating there, which you could wish undone? Have you given to your Redeemer and Savior, that heart which he died to rescue from the absolute condemnation of eternal death? Was your youth devoted to him, whom you were so often pathetically exhorted to remember? or was it spent in carelessness, frivolity, and sin? Are you at present devoted to the service of God, and joined to him, "in the bonds of an everlasting covenant, never to be forgotten?" Are you adorning "the doctrine of God your Savior," by a holy conformity to His will? All these things are involved in the answer to the question “is it well?” and I address you, not as you may appear in my eyes, not as you may appear in the eyes of fond and admiring friends, but as you actually do appear in the eyes of that God who reads the heart, knows every unuttered thought, and marks the progress of every purpose! If one unholy thought has ever originated in your bosoms,-if one unholy word has ever escaped the door of your lips—if one unholy action has ever been performed-that thought, that word, or that action, stamps on your soul the character of sinner. For let it be remembered, that sin is not only the transgression of the law of God, but it is the want of conformity to the will of God; and let it be remembered, that while we measure sins in the scale of our imperfect judgment, and call them little, or great, as they present themselves to our limited perceptions, there is no little sin in the estimation of God. Every sin is great enough to have in it, all the elements of opposition to the fundamental principles of God's holy government; every sin is great enough to exhibit our indisposition to obedience. Where the character of a sinner, therefore, is impressed, no matter whether the character is, or is not, legible to us, it is legible to God; and where it is legible to God,—there, there, is the stern, uncompromising necessity of repentance. The question, then, comes back upon you-"Is it well with thee?" Have you repented of your sins--sorrowed over them after a godly sort, hated and forsaken them? Settle this point, I pray you, for salvation is connected with it-your own salvation, and, as I shall show you, the salvation of others, in whom your affections are intensely bound up," Is it well with thee?"

TO A YOUNG MOTHER.

BY CHARLES SPRAGUE, ESQ.

Young mother! what can feeble friendship say,
To soothe the anguish of this mournful day?

They; they alone, whose hearts like thine have bled,

Know how the living sorrow for the dead;

Each tutor❜d voice that seeks such griefs to cheer,
Strikes cold upon the weeping parent's ear;
I've felt it all-alas! too well I know,

"There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told,
When two that are linked in one heavenly tie;
With brow never changing, and heart never cold,
Love on through all ills, and love on till they die."

How to secure and preserve this happiness, is surely an inquiry of great moment. We see occasionally a bright example to tell us that it is attainable, and show us how desirable the attainment. We are glad to acknowledge here that a former assertion of the disappointment attendant upon married life, has been met by a verbal disclaimer from several bright young adventurers-from whom we have received the voluntary assurance that they were happier than their anticipations. We rejoice in this testimony, in spite of the forebodings of those who with an ominous shake of the head, reply that they have not tried it long enough. But while they do much for our cause in maintaining one side of the argument, we are convinced that these cases are comparatively rare, and we turn to those who still wear a cloud on their brows, in the hope of aiding to dispel it.

The most prolific source of disunion and unhappiness in the married life is found in the dissimilarity of taste, habits and education in the parties. This is scarcely discoverable before marriage, owing to the partial nature of the acquaintance, and the thousand factitious circumstances tending to veil and supply deficiencies. But we must find out sooner or later, that no one is perfect. With the discovery of faults, usually begins the reign of disappointment. If we would only, as some one has said, "take human nature as it is, and leaving what is good, discipline all that is rebellious," we should have another sort of world than the one we now live in. We have said that exaggerated views of life was the chief cause of disappointed hopes. It is not the only cause. Were we writing for gentlemen, we could tell them of many things else, which go to make up the sum of a young wife's disappointment. There is much positive evil to contend with in life

and it is often observed that the most serious difficulties grow out of trifles. Trifles often producing the greatest trials and discomforts of life, and attention to trifles, securing its greatest happiness. We are far from thinking failure and disappointment confined to one side: but we have only the liberty of endeavoring to reform one side-and in doing this, express unequivocally an interest for both. If we are condemned as wandering beyond our province, we can only say that when it is written "ye are no more two, but one," it is impossible to address the one without involving two.

Every woman expects the lover to improve in the husband: and when in a few weeks she finds all those attentions that have made up so much of her happiness before, entirely intermitted, or partially and carelessly rendered, is it strange that a pang should touch her heart, or a shade cross her brow? Such cases do exist :-and are found of tenest, in those impetuous beings who before marriage would compass sea and land to render some trifling service. But a woman can do much to overcome even the most disheartening circumstances. She greatly errs when she takes these disappointments to herself, and feeds on them in secret, until the vitality of hope and happiness is destroyed. She should kindly and faithfully make known to the sharer of her joys and sorrows, every trial that affects her happiness. She should let him know that she desires these attentions from his hand; and from his only can enjoy them. As soon as the demon of reserve and distrust is admitted, farewell to social and domestic happiness!

Neither must she yield to despondency, or every thing is lost. Patience, Hope and Perseverence, can work miracles-with CONFIDENCE for a Prime-minister. Difference in taste and education may be overcome by frequent comparison of views and principles. Hopes may be brightened, and disappointments lessened by an unreserved discussion of the one and the other-and happiness invariably attained when the parties will be heartily agreed as to the means of securing it.

We

The most self-confident may be led by a silken band, if its strength is concealed by its softness. Since the day when "a woman lost Mark Anthony the world"--or earlier still, when a woman lost the world the joys of paradise, has she been mighty in influence. would wake them up to a sense of this influence, and have them use it lawfully. Not to lose the world, or any part of it, to a single individual-not to work mischief in it--but by "a unity of the spirit in the bond of peace" to lighten, by sharing, the ills of life; and enhance its joys by cheerful participation.

[For the Microcosm.]

TRUE ECONOMY.

THIS is a talent that cannot be bought nor estimated-except by the money it saves-and if that be the measure, it may be put down at a fortune at once. Those who have allowed matters and things to get

shook down and stratified according to their specific gravity, and learned to look inwards for all the seasoning to sweeten life withal, are prepared before all others to get along cheerfully, comfortably, and happily with a little. Intellectual and cordial luxuries cost less than any others—and 'tis a notable fact, therefore, that those who are educated to look there for their pleasures, are brought up to true economy. And then, what an amazing advantage have they over the mass whose ambition centers in fashion, pride, and anxious paradeboth in the quality, the abundance, and the uncloying nature of their comforts. Verily, how short a distance hath the heart to go to take its fill, with those who carry their fortunes in their heads!

Z.

WEDDED LOVE'S FIRST HOME.

BY JAMES HALL.

'Twas far beyond yon mountains, dear, we plighted vows of love,
The ocean wave was at our feet, the autumn sky above,
The pebbly shore was covered o'er with many a varied shell,
And on the billow's curling spray, the sunbeams glittering fell.
The storm has vexed that billow oft, and oft that sun has set,
But plighted love remains with us, in peace and lustre yet.

I wiled thee to a lonely haunt, that bashful love might speak,
Where none could hear that love revealed, or see the crimson cheek,
The shore was all deserted, and we wandered there alone,
And not a human step impressed the sand beach but our own:
The footsteps all have vanished from the billow beaten strand-
The vows we breathed remain with us--they were not traced on sand.

Far, far, we left the sea-girt shore, endeared by childhood's dream,
To seek the humble cot that smiled by fair Ohio's stream;
In vain the mountain cliff opposed, the mountain torrent roared,
For love unfurled her silken wing, and o'er each barrier soar'd;
And many a wide domain we passed, and many an ample dome,
But none so blessed, so dear to us, as wedded love's first home.

Beyond those mountains, now are all that e'er we loved or knew,
The long remembered many, and the dearly cherished few;
The home of her we value, and the grave of him we mourn
Are there; and there is all the past to which the heart can turn-
But dearer scenes surround us here, and lovelier joys we trace,
For here is WEDDED LOVE'S FIRST HOME-its hallowed resting place.

REMARKS PARTICULARLY APPLICABLE TO MOTHERS. The following scraps are commended to the attention of mothers. They are deserving of the deepest consideration and regard of mothers in every rank and class of society; yet I think they, in a very

Remarks particularly applicable to Mothers.

29

marked degree, apply to cottage mothers, if I may so express myself. For some years I was the pastor of a country flock; my parishioners were, with few exceptions, cottagers; and it was one of the attempts and trials of my situation, to correct the angry passions and violent inflictions which I, with great pain observed mothers to indulge in, and execute upon their infant charge. The accidental breaking of a cup, the accidental spilling of milk, or beer, for which a child of tender years had been sent, have I often seen punished by an angry mother, with violent blows; and I grieve to add, not unfrequently accompanied with threats and oaths, which have made me tremble in view of the effect which the manifestation of such tempers, and the unjust, the unfeeling violence of such punishments must have had upon the dispositions and affections of such children. I am quite aware that in a cottage, scantily supplied, the loss of a cup, or the spilling of milk, &c. is an affair of much more moment than those in better circumstances can easily imagine still, angry words and violent beatings are not the way to correct even wilful negligence; and how unjust, as well as unchristian, are they, when the little child has met with some of those casualties which happen to us all. Who has not seen a child in an agony of apprehension on such occasions, arising from the dread of meeting the anger of a mother, who ought to have heard its artless explanation, sorrowed over its misfortune, and cheered its disconsolate spirit?

The following scraps are most earnestly commended to the consideration of mothers, and if they should be the instrument, with God's blessing, of convincing but one, that the duty, the interest, and happiness of parents of every class, is bound up in mild treatment, in christian precept and christian example, greatly rejoiced and happy shall I be.

SCRAPS.

Of George Herbert, it is recorded, that he spent much of his childhood in a sweet content, under the eye and care of his prudent mother, who managed her power over him without any such rigid sourness as might make her company a torment to her child, but with such sweetness as did incline him willingly to spend much of his time in the company of his dear and careful mother.

Bishop Hall, recording the virtues of his mother, says, how often have I blessed the memory of those passages of experimental divinity which I have heard from her mouth. Never any lips have read to me such feeling lectures of piety, neither have I known any soul that more accurately practised them than her own.

The biographer of Richard Hooker remarks: "His mother laid a foundation for his future happiness, by instilling into his soul the seeds of piety, those conscientious principles of loving and fearing God; of an early belief that He knows the very secret of our souls, that we should flee from hypocrisy, and appear to man what we are to God." Of the mother of Matthew Henry, it is observed, that she looked well to the ways of her household; prayed with them daily, catechised her children, and taught them the ways of God betimes.

John Newton says, "My mother was a pious, experienced Christian. She stored my memory with many valuable pieces, chapters