a Christian, was greatly tried upon this subject. He was a mechanic, of much intelligence, but naturally diffident. A large number of young men, as journeymen and apprentices, many of them older than himself, boarded in his family. For a time he could not summon resolution to commence family prayer before so numerous an audience, and as a substitute had morning and evening prayers with his wife in their chamber. But a voice within continually reproached him with dereliction of duty. He could find no peace of mind. He was a stranger to spiritual enjoyment. Conscience told him that he was shrinking from the responsibilities of the Christian, through dread of the slighting remarks of his fellow-creatures. He knew that the irreligious members of his family marked his neglect, and that they must feel that his profession was in vain. For many weeks he thus tampered with conscience and with duty, and consequently was a stranger to peace. At last he resolved that he would no longer be recreant to his Christian vows, that he would no longer refuse to discharge any duty which God should see fit to place upon him.

As he met his numerous family of boarders at the breakfast table in the morning, he said to them, "My conscience has long been reproving me for my neglect of family prayer. I have not felt able to summon courage to lead in prayer before so large a

family as I have at present; but I am satisfied that this timidity is sinful, and I cannot any longer neglect this duty. I shall hereafter have morning prayers immediately after breakfast, and evening prayers at nine o'clock, and I should be happy to have all the members of the family who feel willing unite with us in the exercise." I believe no one left the room, as, at the close of the meal, he took the Bible and read a short passage of scripture, and all gave respectful attention as he implored the presence and blessing of God. And as he pronounced the word Amen, the spiritual burden was rolled from his mind, and he found that the path of duty is the path of peace. Now this looks like consistent piety. The man who manifests this decision must be useful, and cannot but be respected. The most bitter foe of religion, the most scornful caviller, cannot withhold admiration from the exhibition of humble yet firm and consistent piety; and God has so formed our souls, that there is satisfaction and delight in the consciousness of duty discharged.

The more numerous a family is, the more important it is that its lawful head should present the example of consistent, decided, and unwavering piety. If thoughtless young men are members of the household, how important is it that they should witness the daily recognition of God, and listen to the

utterance of pious feelings. These are the moral conflicts in which the young soldier of the cross must engage. He is not called to charge in the face of glittering bayonets and before the cannon's mouth. But he is often summoned to the exercise of courage of far more difficult attainment. He must daily be animated by a spiritual boldness of nobler nature. There is no cowardice so inexcusable and fatal in its consequences as that of the Christian. His conduct is watched with eagle eyes. His neglect of duty carefully noted by those around him. Some young wild fire sarcastically says, "Our good master here is truly a brave Christian! He does not fear God half as much as he does us!" What must be the influence of such impressions upon the minds of the young and thoughtless?

2. Every parent should make the direct religious instruction of his family an object of his care and efforts. There are not a few clergymen, eminent for piety and extensive usefulness, who have been punished for their remissness in this duty by the ruin of their children. The father goes into the study early in the morning. He is visiting his parishioners in the afternoon. In the evening he seeks repose from mental exhaustion by general reading, or is absent from home to attend a lecture. He can find no time to devote to his children, and feels

that it is some excuse that his time and attention are entirely consecrated to Christian usefulness. But God does not hold him guiltless; and he does not interfere with the established principles of moral influences to accommodate the practices of this individual. Time rolls on. The son arrives at manhood, and the father advances to gray hairs. And now you witness the fearful consequences which God has connected with this neglect. The son is ruined, and the father's heart is broken and his mind prematurely impaired by grief. He cannot soothe his troubled spirit, and he wears away the lingering years of old age in almost unalleviated affliction. He reaps as he has sown. He has been laborious and faithful in his parochial duties, and consequently has secured to himself the respect and attachment which almost invariably are connected with a useful life. He has neglected his children, and consequently they bring down his gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. The few individual cases in which by some special providence this ruin is averted, form the exceptions, and not the rule. God has so invariably connected punishment with the neglect of these duties as to leave no doubt upon the mind respecting his will. If God has entrusted to your keeping an immortal spirit, he expects that you will attend to

that trust. You are to regard it as your first duty, subordinate to no other. You have no right to take upon yourself any obligations, to church or state, which shall render it necessary for you practically to say to God,-I have no time to devote to this immortal spirit which you have entrusted to my guidance. That service cannot be acceptable to God which is at the expense of your parental obligations. God has never required such service at your hands. A man may more reasonably leave his own family to starve, while wandering hither and thither to search out objects of charity, than leave his own children to spiritual poverty and death, while devoting his exclusive attention to the lanes and the alleys of a spiritually impoverished world. He thus neglects a greater duty for a less.

A clergyman is invited to take the agency of some religious society, which will render it necessary for him to spend most of his time away from home. He has several boys, just at that age in which boys most demand a father's watchful care. Shall he leave them to form their characters without a father's guidance, that he may engage in these distant duties? Many, while feeling most deeply the sacrifice, have decided that it was a duty; but I must think the decision is erroneous, and, more than this, that the providence of God has shown us that

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