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of life, and the casualties of circumstances, in what situations his own children may be placed? Myself, my sons, and my daughters, are all interested in the principle of this institution. I have set by the death-bed of parents, who have mourned the seduction of their daughters; and once my duty called me to visit a house, at the desire of the afflicted mother, under the hope that her daughter was returning home to throw herself at her feet. While I was in the house, the daughter returned : but how shall I describe the scene? An angry father-a weeping mother-and a child of seventeen on her knees before them: and I heard from her own lips her affecting tale, which would have reached the heart of any man. Before I left the room, I had the pleasure of seeing the father embrace his child, and exclaim, 'My child, which was lost, is found again.'

In the same spirit of pious commiseration, the Rev. Dr. Waugh observes, "I have daughters of my own, and I never yet had occasion to weep over their aberrations from the paths of virtue. They are every thing that is good; and they are indebted for it all to the grace of God. But I will suppose a case, that one of them had fallen a victim to depravity; forsaken by her friends, and her father ashamed to hear her name, (and there are fathers whose hearts are as tender as mine:) and if I am called upon to love my neighbour as myself, ought I not to exert myself to assuage such wounded hearts these?"-O! that the sentiments thus pressed were very generally felt throughout the nation; then would the success of this branch of benevolence be equal to its merit.

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THE FEMALES' ADVOCATE.

"SEEKETH NOT HER OWN."

In reading the Apostle's beautiful description of the varied and lovely graces of Christian charity, the lips may sometimes dejectedly exclaim, "who is sufficient for these things?" So truly may conscience warn too many of their lamentable deficiency in the exercise of those holy tempers, which should be the outward testimony of that faith, by which the Christian professes that he lives. I will not look into the world to see how many or how few of those characteristic marks attach to those with whom I mix. I have a nearer business to transact at home. Were I judged solely by the test of some of these, where should I deservedly be ranked? Seeketh not her own," is one of the distinctions by which the faithful child of God is recognized, as coming out from amongst others, and being separate. Is this distinction mine? Are the rights which are clearly my own, never insisted on with a pertinacity which shows they are estimated as something more than trusts which Providence has reposed on me, out of which He has deputed me to minister as His agent? Do I, if placed in eminence of station from wealth, or rank, or learning, or talent, consider myVOL. III.

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self but as an upper servant of God's household, on whom a superior responsibility is made to rest, and who, therefore, "seeketh not her own" but God's honour? If this be so, I shall claim no peculiar deference to be paid to my opinion, because it is mine; no flattering attentions to my person; no infringement on the inclinations and tastes of those around me, simply that mine may have the preeminence. Whatever station I am in, I shall consider the affections of others (even if by my own undeviating tenderness I should seem to have a just claim to them,) as theirs, freely to bestow, believing it to be my part gratefully to receive them. Leisure and ease I shall be ready to resign, whenever the claims of God's service and the necessities of my fellow-creatures require my attention, though the call be repugnant to inclination, and convenience be made the sacrifice. Even to add to their momentary gratifications, my own must be taught to yield, so that they be innocent, and no way likely to infringe on any higher claim, which God, or my neighbour, possesses over me. And, when all this is done, Christianity enjoins that I seek no praise, that I demand no compensation for the benefit, or the pleasure which has been bestowed. This, indeed, would be a wide extension of that, against which the prohibition already exists. For, in this case, should I not seek that which, clearly, could in no sense be said to be my own? To whom should the praise be given, but to Him of whom cometh the sufficiency, and

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sufficiency is of God." To ourselves then let us ascribe, as we justly may, every deficiency which attends our daily performance of this prescribed command; and to Him be the honor, the praise, the adoration, for every power of resisting self. His grace it is which worketh it in us, and to Him be all the glory!

THE AFFLICTED MOTHER.

L. H.

AT S. I embarked on board a Steam Boat. The deck was crowded with a noisy and motley group of colliers and market people, and I took refuge in the cabin below. There, in a dark corner, sat three poor women, who quietly and respectfully made room for me beside them. One was a quakeress ; she had retired with characteristic modesty from the confusion that reigned above, and sat the picture of neatness and peacefulness-her hands folded across her grey shawl-waiting her emancipation from so uncongenial a situation. Her right hand neighbour had a sickly infant on her knee which she sadly mismanaged, and in piteous cries it spoke the severity of its little sorrows. There was something in the appearance of the third female that deeply interested

me.

She was deadly pale, her garb of the poorest kind, and her woe-struck, though peaceful countenance, told of many sorrows meekly borne. In her hand she held a basket of tracts and little books for sale.

At the time of my entrance, she was endeavouring to pacify her neighbour's child, and to infuse some common sense into its mother. I joined my en

deavours to hers, but in vain." "Well sir," she said, "it is sometimes a blessed thing to hear them cry, it shews there is strength to struggle. I have seen them when they could only moan- -when I should have blessed the Lord for one such cry as this." "Our friend," said the quakeress, "has been sorely afflicted, but I tell her the Lord is surely with her, for she bows with the spirit of meekness.”’

I asked her story-it is the story probably of hundreds. She told it with all the simplicity of truth-with all the earnestness of misery.

"My husband was a book-binder, but his health left him. He worked in his bed when he was too weak to sit up. We sold our furniture to pay his doctor-but all would not do :-he lay helpless in his bed for weeks, with hardly a rag to cover him. I, and my seven little ones, did what we could to earn a morsel of bread-my poor John could do no more! It was the Lord, and he was very merciful, for he sent a kind lady, who put my husband into the Infirmary. There he is well looked after, though if it had so pleased God I could love to nurse him myself. Oh! if he come back to me in health, I shall have more than I can desire or deserve!"

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About a month ago, three of my little ones fell ill of the hooping cough-they fell sick one by one -they coughed day and night-I would have given my life to ease their pain-but it was not to be so— I saw them die, one by one- and they looked peaceful when death was on them! I laid them side by side in the same grave, and I tried to say, "They are taken from the evil to come!" I shall go to them, though never, never can they return to me." She stopped, and with the back of her hand quietly wiped away the tears from her eyes. I laid my hand on

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