how pitiful is it, that the small number that is thus minded, minds it so remissly and coldly, and is so far outstripped by the children of this world, that they follow painted follies and lies with more eager ness and industry, than the children of wisdom do that certain and solid blessedness that they seek after. Strange! that men should do so much violence one to another, and to themselves in body and mind, for trifles and chaff! and that there is so little to be found of that allowed and commanded violence, for a kingdom, and such a kingdom that cannot be moved, Heb. xii. 28; a word too high for all the monarchies under the sun. And, should not our diligence and violence in this so worthy a design be so much the greater, the later we begin to pursue it? They tell it of Cæsar, that when he passed into Spain, meeting there with Alexander's statue, it occasioned him to weep, considering that he was up so much more early, having performed so many conquests in those years, wherein he thought he himself had done nothing, and was but yet beginning. Truly it will be a sad thought, to a really renewed mind, to look back on the flower of youth and strength as lost in vanity; if not in gross profaneness, yet in self-serv. ing and self-pleasing, and in ignorance and neglect of God. And perceiving their few years so far spent ere they set out, they will account days precious, and make the more haste, and desire, with holy David, enlarged hearts to run the way of God's commandments, Psal. cxix. 32. They will study to live much in a little time; and, having lived all the past time to no purpose, will be sensible they have none now to spare upon the lusts and ways of the flesh, and vain societies and visits: Yea, they will be redeeming all they can even from their necessary affairs, for that which is more necessary than all other necessities, that one thing needful, to learn the will of our God, and live to it; this is our business, our high calling, the main and most excellent of all pur employments. thee, and depress thy mind; and will hold it so down, that thou shalt not find it possible to walk upright and look upwards, with that freedom and frequency that becomes heirs of heaven. 2. The measure of thy affairs being adapted, look to thy affection in them, that it be regulated too. Thy heart may be engaged in thy little business as much, if thou watch it not, as in many and great affairs. A man may drown in a little brook or pool, as well as in a great river, if he be down and plunge himself into it, and put his head under water. Some care thou must have, that thou mayest not care; these things are thorns indeed; thou must make a hedge of them, to keep out those temptations that accompany sloth, and extreme want there waits on it: But let them be the hedge; suffer them not to grow within the garden: Though they increase, set not thy heart on them, nor set them in thy heart. That place is due to another, is made to be the garden of thy beloved Lord; made for the best plants and flowers; and there they ought to grow, the love of God, and faith, and meekness, and the other fragrant graces of the Spirit. And know that this is no common nor easy matter, to keep the heart disengaged in the midst of affairs, that still it be reserved for Him whose right it is. 3. Not only labour to keep thy mind spiritual in itself, but by it put a spiritual stamp even upon thy temporal employments; and so thou shalt live to God, not only without prejudice of thy calling, but even in it, and shalt converse with him in thy shop, or in the field, or in thy jour ney, doing all in obedience to him, and offering all, and thyself withal, as a sacrifice to him: Thou still with him, and he still with thee, in all. This is to live to the will of God indeed, to follow his direction, and intend his glory in all. Thus the wife, in the very oversight of her house, and the husband, in his affairs abroad, may be living to God, raising their low employments to a high quality this way, "Lord, even this mean work I do for thee, complying with thy will, who hast put me in this station, and given me this task; thy will be done. Lord, I offer up even this work to thee, accept of me, and of my desire to obey thee in all." And as in their work, so in their refreshments and rest, such Christians pursue all for him, whether they eat or drink, doing all for this reason, because it is his will; and for this end, that he may have glory; bending the use of all their strength, and all his mercies, that way; setting this mark on all their designs and ways, this Plus illi ad vanitatem, quàm nos ad for his glory, 1 Cor. x. 31, so from one for the glory of my God, and this further Not that we are to cast off our particular callings, or omit due diligence in them; for that will prove a snare, and involve a person in things more opposite to godliness. But certainly this living to God requires, 1. A fit measuring of thy own ability for affairs, and, as far as thou canst choose, fitting thy load to thy shoulders, not surcharging thyself with it. An excessive burden of businesses, either by the greatness or multitude of them, will not fail to entangle veritatem. 1826. thing to another throughout their whole life. This is the art of keeping the heart spiritual in all affairs, yea, of spiritualizing the affairs themselves in their use, that in themselves are earthly. This is the elixir that turns lower metal into gold, the mean actions of this life, in a Christian's hands, into obedience and holy offerings unto God. And, were we acquainted with the way of intermixing holy thoughts, ejaculatory eyeings of God, in our ordinary ways, it would keep the heart in a sweet temper all the day long, and have an excellent influence into all our ordinary actions and holy performances, at those times when we apply ourselves solemnly to them. Our hearts would be near them, not so far off to seek and call in, as usually they are, through the neglect of this. This were to walk with God indeed; to go all the day long as in our Father's hand; whereas, without this, our praying morning and evening looks but as a formal visit, not delighting in that constant converse which yet is our happiness and honour, and makes all es tates sweet. This would refresh us in the hardest labour; as they that carry the spices from Arabia are refreshed with the smell of them in their journey; and some observe, that it keeps their strength, and frees them from fainting. If you would then live to God indeed, be not satisfied without the constant regard of him; and whosoever hath attained most of it, study it yet more to set the Lord always before you, as David professeth, Psal. xvi. 8, and then shall you have that comfort that he adds, He shall be still at your right hand, that you shall not be moved. And you that are yet to begin to do this, think what his patience is, that, after you have slighted so many calls, you may yet begin to seek him, and live to him; and then, consider, if you still despise all this goodness, how soon it may be otherwise; you may be past the reach of this call, and may not begin, but cut off forever from the hopes of it. Oh, how sad an thou FOR THE CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE. CHRIST'S REPROOF AND CALL TO HIS DISCIPLES. "Sleep on now and take your rest!-Behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners!-Rise! let us be going: behold he is at hand that doth betray me!" Hark! hark! from heav'n the Saviour's voice To slumb'ring saints address'd Rise! rise! nor make the ignoble choice, Whilst sin abounds, to rest. VOL. IV.-Ch. Adv. C Nov. 28, 1825. How dang❜rous to indulge repose Rise! rise! and meet your Saviour's foes; Why should the blasting powers of hell Rise! rise! ye saints, and joyful tell Let heart meet heart, and hand to hand Rise! rise! ye heav'n-aspiring band, Let not that treach'rous foe, the world, Rise! rise! the banner is unfurl'd, A banner of renown. Jesus your Saviour's call obey, His ensign beams with love; Yes, Jesus, we obey thy call, To thy dear cross we corne; We rise! we rise and give thee all, Thou hast redeem'd us, we are thine, We rise! we'll rise! and rising shine ALICIAN. Miscellaneous. · LETTERS FROM A MOTHER TO A DAUGH- EDUCATION. (Continued from vol. iii. p. 547.) LETTER III. A, August 20, 1821. You write, my dear Mary, that your little Charles attends the village school. His time has now become valuable, and must be regulated by system. A child of common capacity should be taught his letters ere he is four years old; and should be able to read intelligently at five. This should be an invariable rule, in every family where there are children to be educated. We are deplorably mistaken, if we suppose the time of children at this age of no value. How many parents, under this impression, leave their children untaught, till the age of seven or eight years? Then, when they might be employed to good advantage in other studies, they must acquire the very elements of reading: and what is perhaps worse than all, habits of vice and of idleness are formed, which may never be laid aside. Time is never more precious than at this early age-Experience has taught me to assert, that a child can never be taught to read as easily at any other age. The vacant soil is more easily cultivated, than that which is overgrown with thorus and thistles. The active mind will not remain vacant. Therefore, dear Mary, let not that of your Charles be now filled with what must be eradicated, or with what will interfere with the rapid growth of useful knowledge. Let his school hours be punctually observed; and let not a fragment of time be lost. Even at this early age he cannot require more time for exercise and recreation than the intermissions of his school will afford; and these hours of recreation will be far more enjoyed, if the rest of his time is busily employed, than if all were at his own disposal. Observe how dull and dissatisfied a child becomes before night, who has devoted his whole day to amusement. Not So, "The playful children just let loose from school." Mark the rapture with which your boy hastens to receive your embrace; and the glee with which he pursues his pleasures. For they return anew to him; and he is not satiated with unbought delights. Let all his recreations and amusements be under your own inspection. Let him never be in company with, you know not whom ; or absent, you know not where. But no longer confine him to your own room; or exclusively to your own society; for he is no longer "Ma's babe." He resigns this place and privilege to his successor; and as an equivalent, he must have other pleasures. To prevent his becoming dull and effeminate, choose him two or three companions, with whom he may freely associate; with whom he may roll the hoop, fly the kite, or toss the ball. Let wisdom direct you in the choice of his associates; know whether they have been educated by a faithful mother-whether, in all probability, they will be suitable for friends in the years of manhood. And beware now, that he contract no intimacies which may not with advantage be continued, down to the last days of his life. Above all, be assured that they are religiously educated; and that they will probably remain forever ignorant of those way-worn paths of vice, which lead down to the chambers of death; and whither, if vicious, they might also conduct your Charles! When you have found proper as sociates, let them frequently interchange visits, or walk, or play together. But never let yours, without liberty from you, go even into the streets. Beware that they mix not with the clubs of children, ever to be found in the highways of towns and villages, and generally composed of the idle and ungoverned of every condition-rich and poor, black and white. Did you never while passing these groups, hear their boisterous, vulgar and profane conversation? Oh, let not a child of yours, through your carelessness, become one of these— You should learn to become familiar with the noise, and not to fret at the disorder, which the little ones may occasionally create around your dwelling. You can restore order there, much easier than you can correct the vitiated taste and minds of your children, when they are under the influence of bad company. Neither must you make your sprightly boy mope by the fireside, nor seclude him from society; if you do, he will be likely to imbibe contracted notions, and habits of locality, which may render him peculiar in his mode of thinking; as well as awkward in his whole deportment. Perhaps you will ask, if all your time and attention must be engrossed by your children? I would also ask, what object is of equal importance? Form no plans, engage in no business, which may be inconsistent with the duties you owe to them. Still you may connect other objects of pursuit with these; and you must, if you would discharge your duties to all around you. Let your children be nearest to you; but extend your cares still farther; like the circles widening on the smooth lake, after the fallen sinking stone. That mind is contracted indeed, which cannot extend its benevolence, beyond its own self and children.-Every child of Adam has a claim on your benevolence, but not a claim which can interfere with the duty you owe to the immortals placed under your own immediate charge. The stranger has a claim on your hospitality. But oh! let no unemployed votaries of fashion, be in the habit of spending their idle hours at your house, to interfere with your proper business. Your time is too precious to be squandered away thus, and your charge too important to be neglect ed. If such persons must be entertained, let them have recourse to those whose taste and views are similar to their own. The claims which these idlers have, are on your pity, your reproofs, and your prayers; not on your time and your countenance-rob not your husband and your children thus. Incivility towards any is doubtless unjustifiable-but candour and "godly sincerity" will save both your time and your feelings; and certainly render you more respect ed. Never give an insincere invitation, or an insincere welcome. This is in itself sinful, and carries with it its own punishment-How unwise is she, rity; and will sit with gazing eyes and folded hands, wasting those hours, which you can by no means afford to lose. They often will too, if you allow them, slander those who are better than themselves: and would persuade you, that none of the poor around you are really objects of charity. You ought to reprove such, and warn them of their wickedness, and their danger, as enemies to God, while they injure both their neighbours and themselves-The greatest benevolence you can exercise toward them, is to teach them to improve well all their time-to be industrious and economical in their own families. Give them work, if you please, to employ them at home, and pay them for it: but encourage not their idleness by giving them food and raiment, while they might earn these by their honest industry-In giving out work to them, or in their returning it, afford them no excuse for sitting, and wasting their hours in idleness, or in tattling. Both the above classes will probably labour hard to ingratiate themselves by flattery; but I can "Who invites her dear five hundred not think you need warning of the friends, "Contemns them all, and hates them coming" I have much to say on this subject: perhaps it may be the theme of another letter. In the mean time, practise much on the lesson of "simplicity, and godly sincerity," of which an apostle has spoken. And let not your own beloved friends have any just reason to suspect your sincerity towards them, because they see you lavish the same attentions, and same professions of friendship, on every one. There is another class of intruders, which it is equally wrong to countenance. These are the idle and gossipping of the poor, who would engross a seat at your kitchen fire, if not at your dining room hearth. These often introduce themselves as objects of cha danger of being thus duped. They may not dare directly to flatter yourself; but if they understand human nature, as they often do, they know that parents are easily gained through their children; and they may tell you that yours are superior, in beauty and intellect, to any others-You indeed may not be fool enough to believe this, but your children, it cannot be expected, will have discernment to discover the artifice. And the unhappy influ ence which this may have on their minds, if not counteracted, may be exceedingly great, by exciting their vanity, and weakening their motives for attaining knowledge-Rather teach yours, to esteem others better than themselves. Discover to them how ignorant they are of many things which they might know, and point them to those whose at |