of this article against your name, if you were gone to some distant region, or were gathered to your fathers? Must she feel, in view of the barrenness of your life, that she has sustained no loss! This tells a dreadful tale!

Disciples, by your devoted piety, write your own epitaph on your pastor's heart; on the bosom of the church; on the hearts of perishing men, blessed by your agency; so that Zion on earth, as you leave it, shall say, "Gone, missed, MOURNED;" and Zion on high, as you enter it, shall respond, "Arrived, saved, and BLESSED FOR EVER!"

A REMONSTRANCE.

Why

"WHY didn't you call me back, mamma? didn't you make me come back?" said little Ann, as she came crying into the house with her mouth bleeding from a fall upon the ice.

This was the reproof of a child four years old to her mamma, for not enforcing her command, "not to go out to play upon the ice." This, no doubt, will be the galling reproof of many ruined children to overweening and fondly doating parents, when overtaken by misery; and when they behold with anguish that their wretchedness is but the consequence of parental indulgence in follies, and tempers, of untutored youth.

When the gay and thoughtless girl shall have spent and misspent the season of mental improvement in chanting after the violin, in pursuing the butterfly beauties of youth, the phantom called pleasure, and the sober reason of riper years and all its concomitants, complicated cares and duties, crowd upon her, and she finds herself utterly unprepared for their faithful discharge, will she not remember with poignant regret the many hours which she spent in following the fantastic fashions of folly, and urge the inquiry of little Ann: "O mamma, why did'nt you call me back?"

In fancy's view, I see the image of fondly caressing parents growing up around them-too good to do wrong, too tender to be corrected-every wish is gratified, every temper is indulged uncurbed. He is the idol of the house, and already governor of his father's domains. Years roll on his tempers, his appetites, still unrestrained, "grow with his growth, and strengthen with his strength," until he is required to relinquish the gewgaws of childhood, and assume the man. His sphere of action is enlarged, and he begins to seek, in society, the amusement once found in toys. But where does he go? Not to the society of the enlightened, sober, and social part of the community, but to that for which the unrestrained pursuits and indulgences of youth have given him a relish-the company of the dissolute and dissipated. His parents watch his course with deep, soulfelt solicitude, and wish, but silently and vainly wish, to check his ruinous career. They never restrained him in childhood. and now it is too late. He has entered the whirling yerge of the Maelstrom of destruction, and he is careering swiftly to its centre. His rapid, and now irresistible downward course is alarming even to himself. He struggles to escape, and with the unnatural energies of a dying effort, raises his head above the waves of dissipation, and, looking back with all the horrors of despair, he exclaims, "O my parents! my parents? why did you not call me back?" The affecting reproof breaks upon the heart-strings of his agonizing parents, and vibrates to the very core. The ungoverned, misguided youth, sinks into the vale of oblivion, a victim to the cruel tenderness of his parents: he sinks to rise no more.

AN INTERESTING INQUIRY.

Cannot Sabbath-schools be made more interesting? I think they can. But, in order to effect this, several

things are necessary. Parents must become more interested. I have never seen a Sabbath-school that was not interesting where parents took an active part. I have visited one Sabbath-school, and seen a few children collected for the purpose of receiving instruction, while their parents were standing about the house, talking about something else. This school could not be interesting. The children could not be expected to be interested, if parents were not. I have been in another school, where I could see the child of three years, up to the grey-headed man of seventy, all earnestly engaged in studying the Bible, no one appearing too old or too young to learn. Here the children participated in the interest that pervaded the minds of their parents.

There is another thing I want to mention. The exercise must not be too long. It was once remarked by Payson, that "he had rather his congregation should go away hungry," meaning that he had rather break off his discourse where it appeared most interesting, than see them wearied and exhausted. Now this should be the case with children. I do not mean to be understood to say that the performance should be run over in a hurried and careless manner. By no means. But instead of spending two hours, or two hours-and-a-half, as has been done, let the time not exceed thirty, or thirty-five minutes; and, above all, let the teacher be well prepared himself, in the appointed lesson, and he will find this will be time enough to convey all the information that would be profitable at one time. If he would do this, he would not be so frequently pained at the listlessness and inattention of his scholars, but would soon find every eye directed to him.

But something more is necessary. The teacher must pray earnestly for those under his charge. All his other efforts would do but little to save their souls, unless he implore the blessing of God.

If Christian parents and teachers would bear in mind the above remarks, it is believed that few complaints would be heard of a want of interest in Sabbath-schools.

A SABBATH-SCHOOL TEACHER.

THE SICK BED.

"Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves."-James i. 22.

I AM not one of those light and airy beings who have the faculty of rendering themselves invisible, like the inhabitants of fairy land, or the genii of Eastern story; but am a substantial reality, and possess organs of sight and hearing. So quietly and inoffen→ sively do I use them, however, that people seem to think of me, as they practically do of little children, that they are both blind and deaf, and therefore cannot be contaminated by the examples of deed and word, which are so often manifested in their presence. Thus I became a spectator of much which passes current in the world for piety; but which, if tried in the crucible of the gospel, would evaporate into a mere shadow, and become such stuff as dreams are made of- -a religion which plays round the imagination, but is not incorporated with the life.

In this privileged character I was, a few days since, admitted into a household, where all bore the name of Christ. Four ladies of the family, upon whose cheeks the roses of youth had faded, were swallowing their hasty meal, and conversing with great earnestness on the astonishing gifts of a popular preacher. They talked as if he was little less than an apostle; as if his name and religion were synonymous; to differ from him was heresy; and to abstain from hearing him, and joining in his measures and machinery, was to oppose everything good. I sat

listening to their denunciations, and comparing them with that blessed spirit of charity, so beautifully and eloquently described by the apostle, in the thirteenth chapter of the 1st of Corinthians, which "thinketh no evil." In the midst of them, a lady entered, one of those visions of love and goodness which but occasionally light upon our earth. She had pursued the "even tenour of her way," and let the torrent of novelty pass by her. But these zealous adherents overwhelmed her with descriptions of the talent and eloquence of this "new light,” and "Why have you not attended upon his preaching?" was the unanimous question.

"The cares of my family," replied she, meekly, "absorb much of my time. My little children are at that tender age when they require a mother's watchful eye to form their habits rightly, and to lead their young affections into a proper channel. The Lord has placed them under my stewardship; and I have no right to abandon the charge, or resign it into the hands of those who would be less interested, and therefore less vigilant. In a month they might imbibe contamination which it would require years to counteract. The young mind is so pliant, that it may be moulded into any likeness; and woe be to the mother, who, not feeling her infinite responsibility, leaves her charge to hirelings, or neglects to enstamp upon the infant character the image of her Lord and Saviour."

"to

"I called," continued the gentle visitor, bring something to tempt the appetite of your poor invalid. Can I see her?"

"Yes! you will find her in her chamber. I don't think she can continue many days. But do attend chapel this afternoon, you will find it very interesting."

"Thank you. I must try to see your neighbour, Mrs. White, who is very ill of a fever." "Indeed! I did not know she was ill."