worn, as if he were accustomed to an exposed life. His gait was dignified and grave; his

voice, owing to the tinct, but, associated appearance, it was as in the wilderness."

distance, was very indiswith his whole personal "the voice of one crying

Then followed one whose

ster was slow and godlike. A singular comLination of power and goodness was expressed in all his bearing. At one moment I thought it might be an impersonated image of greatness and might and at another, of meekness and lowliness. An indescribable benignity shone on his features, and yet a cloud of sorrow seemed to wreathe his brow, so that he appeared indeed "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief."

Then followed a company that could not so well be called a group as a file, owing to their great extent. The first seemed men of much simplicity of character, unpretending in their manners, but conscious of high powers and great responsibilities; a calm fearlessness was expressed in their countenances. Among them I observed two figures that particularly interested my attention; the first for his delightful complacency. His whole countenance beamed with amiable lowliness and compassion, and he appeared to be uttering to himself as he

The other looked

passed, "God is love." accustomed to the patient and wearying toil of the laborious scholar. An expression of contemplative thoughtfulness was expanded over his brow. He appeared like one whose mind was pregnant with mighty thoughts, and who could stand unmoved in the integrity of his principles before the thrones of kings and amid the schools of philosophers. Though his countenance was that of a great man, yet it wore a holy humility that seemed to say, "God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ!" After the first few figures, the number increased rapidly, till it appeared like the hosts of war; their countenances bespoke heroic boldness and contempt of pain, as if they were familiar with perils and death-panoplied pilgrims, who have here no abiding place, but seek a city eternal in the heavens. After some hundreds had passed, the procession seemed to terminate, and dense darkness followed; dim, phantasmagoric figures, more like shapes of shadow than living beings, appeared for a moment, and then faded away in the gloom; but I continued to gaze anxiously for some new and more distinct appearance, when suddenly one emerged, wearing the cowl and girdle of a monk. In his hand he grasped a rusty

3

still living; two, wandering he knew not where, the votaries of dissipation, the other confined in a neighboring alms-house, a maniac. Seldom have I known an equal case of domestic affliction. He had educated his family in religion with all diligence, but was now dying, with the hope of meeting but one of them in heaven. The affections of the parent were naturally strong in him, but in his last sickness they were overpowering. "Pray for my children," was his pathetic appeal to the Christian friends who visited him-" O my children! My poor boys! I go down to the grave in sorrow for them. Must they be lost? Cannot prayer still pluck them as brands from the burning? Pray, 0 pray for my children!" The Christian parent alone can feel the force of this dying father's language, and even he cannot feel as I do, while recalling the unutterable anxiety of his emaciated features, bathed as they were with the tears of paternal tenderness. Ah! it is on the margin of eternity-it is when the soul, full of unspeakable solicitude, feels that it is passing returnlessly away, that the affections receive a depth of pathos they never had before. It is then, too, that we see things as they are ;-valuable only so far as they relate to the endless state into which we are passing.

It is then, mistaken parent, that thou wilt wish to see thy child lying, with the hopes and woes of Lazarus, at the gate of the rich man, rather than enjoying, without God, the admiration or wealth for which thou art now so anxiously training it.

The old man expired, praying for his children, and his prayer was not altogether in vain ; for "God is not slack concerning his promises;" and he has assured the Christian parent that "it shall be well with him, and his children after him;" that "the generation of the upright shall be blessed." His poor maniac son has since been restored, and is now seen " sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind." His name is on the temperance pledge and the church book, and I trust it is "written in heaven." One of his brothers has also been reclaimed, and the other still lives, and is therefore within the reach of the many prayers which have ascended for him.

I have not introduced this case in order to sketch it, but to append a few thoughts on an important subject. It is an interesting question why the children of religious parents are so seldom converted, and not unfrequently are more hostile to religion than those who have had no early religious training. The reasons

usually assigned are, that they become disgusted with religion by the importunity of their parents; that severe early restraints become irksome, and react; that the imperfections which they observe in the domestic conduct of their relatives destroy their confidence, &c., &c. I doubt most of the usual reasoning on this subject. It may apply in particular cases, but it does not solve the whole problem. Where these defects have not existed, the result has been the same. The most painful examples I have known were in the families of devoted and judicious ministers, some of whose children, whom I can at this moment recall, are reeling to the grave drunkards. I think the reason lies deeper than is usually conjectured. There is a profound fault somewhere in our system of religious training. The constitution of the human mind requires the Scriptural mode of enforcing religion, and admits of no other, and this is not the mode adopted in the religious education of children. Let me explain.

We have two classes of habits, passive and active. The facility of the former is diminished, while that of the latter is increased, by exercise. The surgeon, in the beginning of his profession, may feel a painful sympathy for the sufferings of his patient. This very sympathy may un