the home which she had left to follow the fortunes of her husband. I have no certain knowledge of the events of her life from that time. A few years since, as I was one day reading aloud, for the amusement of an aged and revered father, some newspaper paragraphs, in which certain memorials to Congress were spoken of, I inadvertently lighted upon the following:

"A bill for the relief of the widow and children of General

"I'm glad of it-I'm glad of it;" interrupted the old gentleman, starting from his chair and pacing the floor in great agitation. "I hope she needs relief. I hope Congress will let her need it too. I always said she would be punished sooner or later."

I paused, of course, in amazement, at this outbreak, and in reply to my look of inquiry, he continued: "Did I not convey her mother's message myself? I was very courteously treated by the lady, until she knew my errand; but well do I remember the haughty air with which she gave her heartless reply,We have hitherto been strangersstrangers let us remain.' I remember too, and shall never forget the subdued anguish, with which the poor disappointed mother responded to my account of her daughter: 'My last earthly hope is crushed; I have nothing now to live for !'"

From this old gentleman I heard the circumstances which I have related above, much more minutely detailed than I have thought proper to give them to the world. I have since read of the

death of the lady alluded to. Can her reflections in the hour of parting life have been envious? I know that human judgment is weak, and often unjust; that He whose eye pierceth the inmost recesses of all hearts, can alone pronounce unerringly in a matter like this. But let me ask, are we ever justified in treating with scorn those to whom God has permitted that we should owe our lives, our privileges on earth, our hopes of heaven? Is not God's heaviest curse denounced against him "who mocketh his father, or despiseth his mother?" No reservation is made for the faults or frailties of those to whom our first love, our most sacred love is due. The curse proclaimed is unconditional; while the command to "honour our parents," is strengthened by our heavenly Father's promise of that, to secure which most human beings would gladly sacrifice the brightest of the world's honours. -Advocate and Guardian.

"A WOUND AND DISHONOUR

SHALL HE

GET, AND HIS REPROACH SHALL NOT BE WIPED AWAY."

IN my native town there was a remarkable illustration of this proverb :

SM- was the son of pious parents;-he was a young man of good disposition, good education, and good talents. His general course of life was virtuous and moral, in the common acceptation of those terms. Once, and only once, did he yield to the impulses of passion. But alas! for the con

He

sequences of one sin! He became a father without having been a husband. The fact was made as notorious as a public prosecution, a trial, and a heavy fine could render it, and S― M- was a ruined young man. Though heartily ashamed of his conduct, his reproach was never wiped away. He had too much light, and his conscience had been too thoroughly aroused by his disgrace to allow him to pursue a course of iniquity. So far as is known, he ever after led a moral life. His mind he improved by reading and travelling, till he became one of the most intelligent men in the community. was generous and public-spirited-but the blight was upon him. Never could he forget his degradation-never could he look a virtuous woman in the eye. He lived the solitary, desolate, aimless life of a bachelor; because he never could recover his self-respect sufficiently to ask any woman whom he respected to become his wife. Once, indeed, he allowed himself to become interested in a beautiful and accomplished young lady, who was visiting in the town, but learning that the report of his disgrace had reached her ear, he dared not urge his suit, and thenceforth resigned himself to his fate.

With talents sufficient to succeed in almost any business, and without any inveterate habits of indolence, he yet never prospered much, solely for want of the stimulus to exertion, essential to business prosperity. For whom or for what should he labour to acquire property? The blight was upon him. Nor is this result to be ascribed to a public senti

ment too severe against him. True, he was at first most decidedly condemned by a virtuous public; but the citizens of that town were not inexorable,-and his subsequent irreproachable life would have restored confidence, if he could but have recovered his self-respect. His intelligence and kindness of feeling would have made him friends, and the folly of his youth would have been forgotten. But somehow, a consciousness of his degradation always attended him, and exhibited itself so distinctly in his countenance and his whole manner, that it could not be forgotten. His mind preyed upon itself continually. Never could he forget-nor assume that cheerful, elastic expression of countenance that would allow others to forget-that one criminal deed.

Premature

He is now in the decline of life. gray hairs were long ago upon him. He has been a cypher in the world; and will soon sink into the grave, unhonoured and unmourned, because of one violation of the seventh commandment.

His case, while it furnishes a vivid illustration of the proverb at the head of this article, is a solemn warning to young men to beware of even one wrong act. The very first transgression may becloud their sky for life. This sketch is in all respects true, and is stated without embellishment.

27

A NARROW ESCAPE.

FEW biographical sketches exhibit a more perfect Christian, or are enlivened by more striking incidents, than the life of Mrs. Prior. The following will be read with interest :

One morning, as the rain was falling, after seeking direction from the Lord, she went out, as usual, to attend to the wants of the needy whom she had found in the highways and lanes of the city; and had not gone far when she was accosted by a prettyfaced, interesting-looking Irish girl, of sixteen, who inquired the direct way to W- st., producing a ticket she had just received from an intelligence office, with the number of a dwelling where she expected a situation as chamber-maid. Learning

that the poor girl could not read, Mrs. Prior kindly offered to accompany her. During the walk, she stated that she had been early deprived by death of a faithful mother; and, being in indigent circumstances, had encountered the perils of the deep, with the hope of obtaining permanent and profitable employment. Such advice as the case required was imparted; and so much did the sympathies of the dear old lady become enlisted in the homeless stranger, that she went with her to the door of the house, hoping to enlist the sympathies of her employer. Instead, however, of being received with that courtesy and kindness which her age demanded, she was rebuked with such indignity as led her to make inquiry in the neighbourhood respecting the