by all the virtues and graces which can be clustered around anything short of angelic, is possessed of a nature all polluted by the taint of original corruption-a corruption cherished and fostered by personal unholiness, and personal opposition to the means of restoration.

It is asked in Holy Writ, "what is man, that he should be clean, and he that is born of a woman, that he should be righteous? Behold, he putteth no trust in his saints, yea, the heavens are not clean in his sight. How much more abominable and filthy is man, who drinketh in iniquity like water." I have searched the Scriptures in vain for one solitary case exempt from the necessity of a change of heart. I have searched the Scriptures in vain for one promise of future glory unconnected with this moral and spiritual renovation-this new birth unto holiness --this change and sanctification of the heart. And in addressing you, I take my stand upon the hallowed ground of Scripture-upon that unmoved and immoveable basis of eternal truth-" except a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." Destitute of this new birth, the most kind hearted and amiable among my readers, has no moral fitness, for the society of angels and of God infinitely holy. When I present this question, then, to you individually, "Is it well with thee?" I mean to ask whether you are conscious of having experienced a change of heart, such as relying on the Scriptures, I have attempted to describe? If you have not, necessity is laid upon you to answer that solemn question in the negative. In the matter of religion, then, you have no part or lot," because your heart is not right in the sight of God;" and I must say, because necessity is laid upon me that I do say it,

"The heart unchanged, can never rise

To happiness and God."

Your case is cheerless and hopeless for the present, and as to the future, it is everlasting exclusion from the family of heaven.

Suffer me, now, to call your attention to the question, "Is it well with thee?" viewed in another aspect. Are you a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ? You may possibly look at this question with astonishment, and ask if I can possibly suppose you an infidel? I do, my friend; and not only so, but I know you to be an infidel; not in the technical meaning which, by the world, is attached to that term, but essentially so in the estimation of God; because you do not fully credit his testimony, by receiving Christ as a Savior. What do you understand by faith? Take the definition given by Inspiration,-" To as many as received Him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to those who believe on his name." Here you will not fail to observe, that to believe in Christ, and to accept or receive him as a Savior, are synonymous terms. No one believes in Christ, according to the terms of the gospel, who does not receive him or accept of him as a Savior; and all others, let the measure of theoretical belief be what it may, are not believers, as God estimates beliet. Perhaps you may suppose that you are a believer in Christ, because you have been born and educated in a Christian land; been brought up what has been

called religiously; perhaps because you have been admitted in your infancy within the pale of the visible Church, by the sacrament of bap. tism, and you have been accustomed to attend on the various ordinances of religion. All this may be, and yet you yourselves "in the gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity." Have you received Christ as your Savior? Have you been convinced of sin, and, as lost and un done, have you "fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before you?" Do you suppose that there can be one too fair, too gentle, too amiable, too lovely, too virtuous to need the blood of the atonement, to wash away your sins? Oh, no! God's sweeping condemnation is aganist you as a sinner without hope, and without a promise of salvation, until you are brought to a complete submission of your heart to the method of God's reconciling mercy, through the sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is to a conviction of yourself as a sinner, and of the necessity of a Savior, inducing a state of mind and heart, in which that Savior is willingly, and readily, and anxiously received; it is to this state of mind to which you must be brought, before you have a right to indulge one solitary hope of future happiness and glory. And every individual who dares to whisper into your ears, a less offensive language, be he admirer, friend, husband, or even preacher, is a deceiver of your souls; because he "speaks peace, while there is no peace." The truest friend, which you may have this side the grave, is that one who, let him sustain what relation to you he may, labors most earnestly and perseveringly, to open your eyes to the real danger of your situation, without a vital interest in Jesus Christ. The fairest, the most accomplished, the most talented, the most admired among my readers, is involved in that terrible, yet faithful denunciation of our Savior, "he that believeth not, shall be damned." A reception of Jesus Christ, as a Savior, stands indissolubly connected with your salvation, and she who, deceived by others, or deceived by herself, may think that there is anything about her, either naturally, or morally, which will render such requisitions less imperative, may slumber in that error, and sleep in that error, and dream sweetly in that error, but will wake, in the eternal world, to a reality of undying misery which can never be repaired. The dream of deception will issue into the experience of the "worm that dieth not," and the death of the body, into that second death which separates the soul for ever from happiness and from hope. "Is it well with thee?"

If my question, "Is it well with thee?" can be answered conscientiously, and in the fear of God, in the affirmative, it will be equivalent to your asserting, that you have truly repented of your sins, and are determined to live a new and holy life to the glory of God; that you have experienced a change in the affections of your heart; and that, as a sinner, you have taken as a free, unmerited mercy, the salvation of the gospel, and recieved Christ as your Savior. If this be so, from my soul, I greet you in the name of Jesus Christ, "happy art thou, for flesh and blood have not revealed this unto you, but my Father in heaven." If my question, "Is it well with thee," cannot be thus answered, then your silence or your negative is equivalent to the declaration, I have not repented, I have not experienced a change of heart, I have

not accepted the offers of God in the gospel of his Son, and Christ is not my Savior. And is it so in relation to any wife or mother who reads this page? Then, as to yourself, you are at this moment under the curse, and nothing keeps you from the condemnation of eternal death, but the brittle thread which connects you with life. Were you to die this instant, your soul would be lost, and lost by your own rejection of an offered mercy. At this moment, you are utterly unqualified for the station which you fill; your responsibility to God cannot be answered ; your husband, if he is in the same condition of impenitence, has no hope of salvation, so far as your influence is concerned; and your children learn, from the mother's example, only that which is to ruin their souls. Unless by some mercy of God, which shall rescue them by grace, next to miraculous, they are drinking in, morning, noon, and night, the easily learned lesson of neglect of God; for, grant that you teach them a formal acknowledgement of God, think you not that they are capable of observation? I tell you, mothers, do what you please on the score of religion, you cannot deceive your children, your lessons are cold-hearted, and ignorantly given; your loved ones you are taking by the hand, and leading them to ruin; for, while you point them with your finger to God, by your life you draw them down to earth. To no being on the earth, can you be permanently and essentially useful; to husband, and children, will you be a real detriment, until to the question, "Is it well with thee?" you can take up the answer, in truth and sincerity of heart, "It is well."

Wife! if, in the deep distress of your heart, you see that you have a husband, careless, unconcerned, and impenitent; look to yourself. Your husband may be an infidel, or a decent opposer, or a self-righteous moralist; but, under any form, an enemy to God. From this moment, never bestow one thought on his spiritual condition, until you have settled on the basis of God's word, your affirmative answer to the ques. tion, "Is it well with thee?" Mothers! when you behold your children rising up around you, and you observe their impatience of restraint, their opposition to control, their wilfulness of purpose, and of action, and when you rationally anticipate enough in their after life, to break your heart, and bring you with sorrow to the grave, dismiss, from henceforward, every thought of them, it is to no purpose that you think of them. Every thing is in vain, till on the basis of the word of God, you can answer my question in the affirmative, "Is it well with

thee?"

The idea of teaching every thing as play or entertainment, could it be realized, would sacrifice the great moral benefits of education. The difference between work and play should be felt; and the proportion of the former to the latter gradually increased. The habit of ap. plication is of vastly greater importance than any particular branch of learning which is to be acquired by it.-Rev. Thomas Scott.

The Seaman's Thoughts of Home.-Confidence, &c.

73

While the sanctuary of home sheds so sacred an influence around it, shall we not reserve a place for those who brave the dangers of the "mighty deep," to guard the interest of those homes abroad? Shall the absent be ever forgotten, when they can thus remember their distant homes?

THE SEAMAN'S THOUGHTS OF HOME.

My far off home, my home of love,
Each passing hour to thee I fly;
I rarely raise my eyes above,

But prayer is pleading in my eye:-
If smiles the morn, if stars look bright,
In heaven's clear, splendid dome,
I sigh, half sad in that pure light,
And ask if all be bright at home.

Some thought, some hope, to thee all true,
Upon my heart, is ever waking;
While thousand fears what time may do,
Still keep its restless pulses aching.
If seas run smooth, and all aloft

Look's fair, as o'er the waves we roam,—

I fondly trust an air as soft,

Is breathing health around my home.

CONFIDENCE THE SECRET OF DOMESTIC HAPPINESS.

An intelligent observer can hardly fail to detect a secret of happiness in some families, entirely unknown to others. It is seen in every glance of communication;-it is felt in the charm of peace and joy shed around them. The Talisman is CONFIDENCE. A high order of happiness cannot exist in an atmosphere at all infected with distrust or suspicion; with coldness or reserve. Its very life consists in participation-perfect and entire. Its language is

"I would not wear a seraph's wing,

Apart through heaven to fly;

And I would break my dearest string,
Swept not its echo by."

This unity does not imply a perfect coincidence of character in those between whom it exists. It is often connected with great dissimilarity of character. There may be difference in education, in temperament, in peculiarity;—but there must be none in heart. Agreement in this particular, destroys other differences:-it provides extenuation for failings, and shelter for defects. Human character may be thus built up to a beauty and harmony attainable by no other means. We have heard the remark, that man or woman never perfect their natures alone.' Man needs the softening influence and gentleness-woman the stability and confidence-which interest in the other gives. In pro

portion to the estimate in which this union and companionship is held, will be the degree and order of happiness growing out of it.

We believe the reformation of the world must begin at the sanctuary of home. There is already the dawn of a reformation in the conjugal world. The nature of the relation is better understood, with its influences and responsibilities. Disunion is becoming more unpopu lar, and seeks to hide its head. Still, comparatively, by very few is this law of partnership,' "Ye are no more two, but one," rightly interpreted. How many husbands and wives live as though their interests, aims, and hopes were totally distinct :-indulging little jealousies, petty rivalries, and even decided opposition. Instead of making it the business of life to overcome differences, they are often aggravated, fostered and entailed. Parents do not seem to consider that their own misery is the least of the evils secured by such a course. They are teaching their children, by direct example, to walk in their footsteps; and they must not be surprised to find them living over these practical lessons in their own experience. The education and government of children suffer more by opposition of sentiment in parents, than by all other causes combined. It is doubtful whether they get any education but one of discord:—and a divided government is worse than none. Under such an influence, the affections and sympathies of children are nipped in the bud, and a blight thrown over their whole lives. How can they be ingenuous and confiding, while they learn concealment and reserve from their parents?

Perfect confidence should govern the minutest circumstances, as well as the most important events of life. A frank and mutual explanation would always do away every cause of unhappiness or disaffection. What have pride and reserve to do in a relation where the honor, interest and happiness of each, belongs to the other? Not a thought or word should be made the occasion of reserve. We have known wives live a wretched life of disappointment and vexation, because they could not bring themselves to make known their reasonable and necessary wants. They considered themselves as actuated by a praiseworthy delicacy and forbearance, when in fact their conduct was the result of mistaken views and false pride. With some doubtless this repugnance is owing to a constitutional diffidence: in others it arises from a pertinacious opinion that affection and duty should lead the husband voluntarily to anticipate and supply their wants. Allowance should be made in all cases for habits and peculiarities. Some are naturally thoughtful and provident-others are dependent on circumstances and intimations for the government of their conduct. Confidence would remove the evil; and though trials might be connected with the neglect of these little attentions, yet if the efforts were direct. ed to overcome the failures on both sides, they would appear but as thin, fleecy clouds in the social sky, and never be suffered to interrupt the course of domestic harmony.

Perhaps if the gentlemen were heard on this question, they would complain of being more troubled with the application of unreasonable and unnecessary wants. Confidence, again, supported by firmness and affection, would remedy the evil. There is an account in one of