slattern to become, after she is married, a person of taste; but I never knew or heard of such a regeneration. It often happens that a neat wife contrives to improve her husband's neatness; but it almost never happens that the husband improves that of his wife. His only alternative is to conform to her, which, in fact, by degrees, he usually does, or to be tormented all his days. It adds to his affliction that he can never speak of it, never obtain any sympathy; silent as the grave, he must endure it alone. There is no necessity for your making so bad a blunder. A very little discrimination and inquiry may certify you respecting the habits of any young lady in this particular; and if she is not neat before she is married, you may be sure she never will be; if she is neat then, she will probably always continue to be so, although instances of degeneracy are not wholly wanting. she cannot enter into the spirit of this idea; she will never think it is not quite as well to let her husband toil on alone, without even being once cheered, with perceiving that she appreciates his labour, and takes pleasure in it; and the consequence must almost inevitably be, that his affection towards her, and his care for her esteem, will abate, and he will at length punish her by seeking his sympathy and happiness from some other source. Make it a primary object, therefore, if you would taste the sweets of domestic happiness, to seek for your wife a person of a lively and sympathising spirit. Depend upon it, no beauty of person, or grace of manner, or learning, or wit, will ever atone for the absence of this. Without this, you will not long love her with a full heart; and with this, even in the absence of many other desirable qualities, you can hardly fail to love her with a constant and growing affection. 7. Religion. Of all the virtues that can adorn a wife, this is transcendently the most important. An irreligious young man once said to me, "I make no pretensions to religion myself, but I would much prefer a religious wife." He discovered good sense in the re It is truly surprising, that, in a world of so many excellent females, any man in his sober senses, and especially a Christian, should ever think of taking up with an irreligious person for his wife. 6. Sympathy in your Pursuits.-Nothing contributes more to sustain a man, and to urge him forward in the duties of his calling, than the lively sympathies of his wife. If she discovers a pleasure and a pride in his employment and his success; if she gives him her cheering support in his trials; if she enters with warm and lively in-mark; but I would never advise a pious terest into the objects which most lady to marry an irreligious man. engage his own heart, he is rendered more than doubly strong and happy. Whatever his employment be, she must have the sympathising spirit which will adopt it as soon as she is married, and love it for his sake. I recently heard a lady, whose husband is the owner of a large manufactory, on which he has bestowed much time and interest, incidentally remark, that nothing affords her so much pleasure as to visit the establishment; that she frequently spends whole hours, with the greatest delight, in examining the, beauty of its machinery, and the elegance and results of its operation. It is always a proud and happy moment for the devoted husband, when the eyes of her for whom he so much lives and labours, gaze with delight upon what his hands have wrought or his mind conceived. It is strange that so many wives are insensible to this fact. Now, unless a lady has lively sympathies, Alas! for that Christian who has a vain, earthly, ambitious, fashionable wife. She will clip the wings of his devotion; she will pull down his spirit from the skies-if, indeed, it was ever there; she will make the family altar an unwelcome place to him; she will, despite of him, and unperceived by him, infuse the moral deadness of her own heart into his; she will sadly inpair, and, perhaps, utterly destroy, his usefulness as a Christian; she will never let him rest, till she has moulded his religion into a shape that will gratify her worldliness, and has demonstrated to all beholders the utter folly of ever being wedded to irreligion, with a view to effecting its subsequent regeneration. And if he at last succeed, after an almost useless life and many sorrows, just to escape from perdition, which, it is to be feared, few such do, he will come off better than he has reason to expect. It is not enough that your wife should be merely Christian, in some low or indifferent sense. If you would know the sweetest of domestic bliss, and secure your own highest usefulness and glory, her piety must be of an eminently pure and elevated character. Her heart must be bathed in heaven. She must be richly imbued with that unearthly, sweet, contented, amiable, benevolent spirit of her Saviour, which, by frequent communion with God, has learned to look away from this world, and to bear you above all its vexations and disappointments; which will relieve you of one of the greatest of all anxieties, by making you feel that, whatever ills may betide you in this changing world, they cannot destroy the happiness of your wife, cannot clothe her sunny face with either frowns or sorrows, cannot in the least disturb the heaven-born serenity of her spirit. What a treasure is such a wife! When you come in from the dust and heat of business, almost distracted with care and anxiety; when you look around upon your little ones, and, perhaps, forgetting the Master you serve, begin to indulge solicitude for their temporal necessities-ere you are aware she will steal you away from earth, gather you some sweets and roses from the celestial paradise, and enable you to return to your cares with other hopes and with renewed vigour. Above all things, then, if you have any regard to your temporal peace as well as to your everlasting happiness, let elevated, consistent, well-formed piety be the essential character of her who is to be the chosen companion of your bosom. But remember that to be worthy of such a companion, you must yourself possess the same character. Let no regard to money have place among the motives which determine your choice. It is doubtful whether ever a man married for money, who did not or will not see cause to regret it. This is too sacred an institution to be debased with impunity by such sordid motives. Not only does the law of God most sacredly guard it against them, but even public sentiment is so wakeful and jealous to protect the sacredness of this institution, that the community are always ready to suspect a man who weds an heiress; and it is only by most convincing demonstrations in his subsequent conduct, that he can persuade them of the integrity of his motives, and induce them to look upon him with the same respect they would if he had married a destitute person. Still, rich ladies must have husbands, and, of course, somebody must marry them. If all the other qualifications belong to a lady, and a gentleman really love her, the simple objection that she has some one, five, or ten thousand pounds, would not, probably, in most cases, be insurmountable. If you should ever have occasion to surmount such an objection, which, it is rather to be hoped, you will not, the best way will be, never to have anything to do with your wife's property. Let it be secured to her in law before you are married, that you may never bear the reproach of wasting her estate or living upon her interest. Beware that you never trifle with female affections; you can hardly do anything more base and wicked. Be careful never to awaken any reasonable supposition of your having designs, unless you really have them, and intend to execute them. The female heart is highly susceptible, easily prepared for disappointment, and, when disappointed, the wound strikes deep. Many, many a female of the finest mould has been ruined by the base trifling of a pretended lover. It is better for your own safety also, that all your intercourse with a lady, before your mind is fully made up, should be of such a nature as not to awake the least suspicion. Then her conduct is more unconstrained and artless; you can study her mind and character better; you can make your inquiries at others, and obtain honest answers. Having made your choice, and obtained the object of your desire, let it be your ambition that both she and those who gave her to you, may ever find increasing cause to rejoice in the union. Consider how great and sacred the gift those parents have bestoweda beloved daughter! One long and fondly cherished, dear to them as their own souls, they have intrusted to your fidelity for life. What trust like this! How uncertain are even the brightest prospects of earth! Who shall lift the veil, and reveal the future history of that darling child and sister? Will he remember his vow? Will he prove a kind and faithful husband? Will he lead her tenderly and gently over the rugged paths of earth to that bright world? Will he be father, and mother, and brother, and sister, and home, all that she forsakes for him, unto her? But I for ? bear. No; not a suspicion is entertained. When the parents give him their daughter, they give him their hearts. Still, nature will have her yearnings, and, despite of all their love and confidence, a wave of emotion will roll over them when they think of yielding up their child for ever into the hands of another. Turn back that wave; convert those tears into redoubled joy, by so conducting yourself in all future time, as that they shall see they have not lost a daughter, but gained a son. Poetry. LOVE ONE ANOTHER! LOVE one another !-Let thy spirit listen The ways of men would echo loud no longer With tones of grief that war and strife prolong; And love's sweet voice, by peace, would grow the stronger, For which old Time each passing age will chide, Love one another!-To the trusting spirit, How small the sacrifice to serve such shrine! What hours of woe, what deeds of pain and anguish, FREDERICK ENOCH. TRUTH. DID we but in the holy light SIN. MAN-LIKE it is to fall into sin, We might communion hold with God, Christ like it is for sin to grieve, Of truth and goodness rise, And spirits from the skies. God-like it is all sin to leave. ADDRESS TO THE CHILDREN OF CHRISTIAN PARENTS.* MY DEAR YOUNG FRIENDS,--Let me earnestly and affectionately remind you of the account you must give of the use you make of your privileges. God has given you parents, who are deeply concerned for your happiness, both in time and eternity. To promote this they pray for you and with you, and endeavour to direct your thoughts to the Lord Jesus Christ, as *The above is the closing section of a very valuable little book, "A Present from Age to Youth," just issued by the Rev. W. Innes, of Edinburgh. the only Saviour of our guilty world, and who invites all to come to him that they may have peace and rest to their souls. Their own hope depends on their believing on him; and in proportion as they love you, they ardently desire that you should believe on him too, and be saved. But they can only use the means. Everything in religion is personal. Your parents cannot answer for you, or you for them. "Every man shall bear his own burden." We must all pass along through the dark valley; and what is in the valley, and what lies beyond it, is only, in its full extent, known to those who have gone through it. It is only by your coming in secret-realizing the presence of the great Searcher of hearts, and hearer of prayer and as an act of your own minds, and with your whole soul, deliberately putting your trust in the Saviour's great atonement, that you can be interested in his salvation. We have seen a picture called "The Blessed Family." It represents a grave opening on the morning of the resurrection; the aged grandfather, with his son and daughter-in-law, with their children, rising together from the same grave, and looking up with sacred joy to meet their descending Lord. Will this, then, be the case with all families ? Would it were! But, alas! do we not often meet with pious parents who have wicked or careless children? Look at your beloved parents! Could you bear the idea of your being separated from them for ever, by them appearing on the right hand of the Judge, and you on the left? But I forbear. The language of mortals would be quite inadequate to convey any conception of the mental agony which such a separation must involve! I merely suggest the thought to your mind, that in your own case it may never be realised. This can only be accomplished by your coming now to that Saviour in whom your beloved parents put their trust; and then, being united with him, you will be united with them for ever, and appear with joy unspeakable along with them before the judgment-seat of Christ. Little books intended for children, of course fall into the hands of parents. Let me, then, mention what I felt to be an interesting and instructive visit which I paid some years ago to a parent after the sudden death of his eldest son, a young man of twenty, who died rather suddenly at a distance from home. With a heart overwhelmed with anguish, he thus expressed himself: "The great object of my solicitude is the state of my dear boy's soul before God. I have just been endeavouring to collect all the little items of evidence that I could find, that he had received the Saviour. Though he had not joined the church before he left us, I was happy to find that he had done so in the town whither he had gone to reside. I have also learned from his brother, who slept in the same room, that he was regular in private prayer. Oh! I hope that neither was a mere form. I have heard that the last words he uttered were, Lord Jesus, I look to thee; receive me.' I felt much comfort from the thought, that as none ever applied to our Lord in vain while he was on earth, surely none could do so now. He was a gentle and obedient boy, and I find that he was much liked by his employers. But, oh! that I had more decided evidence of his union with Christ by a true and living faith. I feel that I was too reserved, and did not speak with sufficient plainness, from what I now feel to have been a false delicacy." In visiting aged Christians especially, in the near prospect of death, we have uniformly found an increased sense of the evil of sin, a deepening impression of personal unworthiness and deficiency in the discharge of every duty, and hence a more simple and entire reliance on the atoning merits of the Redeemer as the only ground of hope. But while this is experienced by the most faithful and conscientious,-nay, in the highest measure by such-it is of the utmost importance that all should guard against any such palpable neglect of any known duty, as will plant a thorn in their dying pillow, and be a source of the most painful recollection when our past history is just about to appear in the light of an opening eternity. THE STRANGER'S VISIT. JUST as we were all busily engaged in our Sunday-school, a few sabbaths ago, the door was quietly opened by a respectably-dressed person; he said to the superintendent: "I hope, sir, I shall not disturb the proceedings of the school by my visit. I am a stranger here; still I feel a desire to look into the Sunday-school, and, if you will allow me, I will just go round and see how the classes are getting on. I am a teacher myself, and feel a deep interest in the instruction of the young." The superintendent assured the stranger that he was always glad to see a brother teacher, and hoped he would feel |