succeeded very well. Indeed, he had been successful in business somewhat less than half a score years, when he fell in love with the face of a servant girl, and married her. This was an imprudent act, not because of her situation in life, which should never be reflected upon, but because of her want of good sense and good breeding. She had a pretty face, but not a spark of intelligence shone on it, or from it, and in temper she was all that could be desired to render herself, or any one else, and especially her husband-miserable!

The first thing almost that was done by Mr. Softman, after his imprudent marriage, was, to increase his circle of friends. Then, the house he occupied was too small and too mean. Mr. so and so's was larger, and Mr. so and so's was genteeler: this was, therefore, disposed of, and one, on a superior scale for size and elegance, purchased. All this was done, at the suggestion, or will, of the lady. To do this, however, Mr. Softman was compelled to lay himself under obligation to a friend for the loan of a few hundreds in ready money. Pleasures and parties, at home and abroad, not only led the mind from business, but was highly prejudicial to property and trade.

Five years rolled over the heads of this charming pair, unnoticed and unthought of. One act of imprudence only seemed to make way for another. The recent servant-maid had become a fine lady, as far as dress could make her so, for not a fashionable in the town could surpass her in that way; but in manners and in conversation, she was still humble Betty. No man or woman of sense could be in her company half an hour, without being reminded of the fable of the ass in the lion's skin, and applying it somewhere.

They had now two children, a girl and boy; the first was four, the other three years old. Of these, they were of courseduring their infancy-passionately fond; they were their idols. In every company they were displayed as prodigies of wit and beauty. The children were, indeed, fair and well-formed; but it was not therefore prudent to hold them up to the inconsiderate adulation of every society; and if they did discover intellectual endowments of more than common order, which in fact the mother only had penetration enough to discover, to court for them the applause of their guests was more likely to injure than benefit. Their persons were adorned like puppets, with all the glitter and glare that various colours could furnish. No expense was spared, to make them equal with the

respectables of the town and neighbourhood, in outward adorning.

On more than one occasion, the feelings of Mr. Softman, naturally of quiet, domestic habits, had been excited to the utmost, by the provoking conduct and tongue of his wife. Their words were often high; Mrs. Softman, accustomed from the first to rule, determined to rule still. Her promise at the altar she had forgotten; or the simple word "OBEY" was, above most others, objectionable to her unmusical ears. Passion, like fire, which rarely goes out by casting more fuel upon it, is only increased by contention. "A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger.' So Solomon says, and so common life proves; but this lady had no soft words, or at least but few, for her husband. He had long mourned over his imprudence in his marriage, but regrets furnished no remedy; neither servant nor children stopped the wrath of his wife. She felt she had no character to lose, and was quite unconcerned respecting her husband's respectability or peace. The most trivial circumstance gave rise to a volley of abuse, and this too before witnesses. Either he went out too much, or he visited where she objected, or he did not return when she wished, or some equally ridiculous cause, set her tongue in motion, the discordant sounds of which, although familiar, were not the more pleasing to her husband.

Mr. Softman now felt that he had no home; he had indeed an habitation, in which to eat, to drink, to sleep, but all these constituted not a HOME. Oh, no, he thought, and thought somewhat correctly, that

""Tis home where the heart is, wherever that be,
In city, in desert, on mountain, in dell,
Not the grandeur, the number, the objects we see,
But that which we love is the magical spell,"

&c. &c.

He was driven to seek happiness, while his dwelling should have furnished it. He had once made a profession of religion; but, alas, he had not followed the counsels of the book of God, and hence the consolations which that source would have fully supplied, were forfeited by him. His heart was wrung out with agony, in reference to his children; their minds he perceived were running to waste, for want of culture; but as Mrs. Softman knew not the advantages of education herselt, she felt no concern about ignorance in others. The children had indeed been sent to school, but they were half their time absent from it. The eldest was little better than a companion for the servant, whom, upon every

occasion, she was found assisting; and this could not be greatly wondered at, when the distressing example set before her is considered.

The fondness of Mrs. Softman for dress had only trained her mind to haughty ignorance, which at times descended to mean familiarities, which she designated kind condescension; and on that principle, the servant was made her confidant, and repository for every secret circumstance betwixt Mr. Softman and herself; while her careless prodigality had again and again reduced her husband's property so low, that, but for the help of his friends, would have been attended with ruinous consequences. Imprudence grew, and produced-Imprudence.

Time rolled on, and Providence once more smiled upon their worldly affairs. From a state of comparative want, they were raised to comfort and respectability. Mr. Softman hoped, that, after what they had suffered, his wife's folly would be corrected: but he hoped in vain. A short period did indeed exist, in which his hopes were kept alive; but soon she returned, like the dog to his vomit, or like the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire, to her usual habits. Display was her idol, she was now determined to be a lady - and why should she not? - she had been long enough moped up, and had made up her mind at length to enjoy life. The slightest observation from her husband as to impropriety, called down volumes of abuse he was cruel, inhuman, and a brute-all her past sufferings she imputed to him, never for a moment allowing her mind to criminate herself. Her passion was not, however, stayed by dress; one evil led to another. I do not mean to assert, that an absolute connexion exists between a love of dress and a love of strong drink; no-but in the present case it was so she drank, but it was secretly. Her husband imagined it not, refused to believe it when reported to him, and, until conviction, clear as light, forced itself upon his half-distracted mind, rejected the testimony made against her.

And now the sharpness of a mother's feelings appeared to be blunted; she became indifferent, not only to her husband's comfort, but to the well-being of those even who were parts of herself. Epithets the most frightful, and such as I will not allow my paper to be stained with, she applied, at the least provocation, to her children; and, even in the hours of sickness and disease, could abandon them to the care of each other, and, arraying

herself in her finery, walk forth for pleasure.

As imprudence had so long and so strongly marked the parent's conduct, it was not to be expected that the children should escape its influence. They did not:-like produces its like. Edrick their son, had attained his sixteenth year, and had been some time engaged in the counting-house of his father. His appearance was perfectly fashionable, disgustingly so; with information just sufficient to keep the ledger, or make out a bill of parcels, he conceived himself amply furnished for all the purposes of life. Occasionally he visited the theatre, and there formed acquaintance and habits such as, in all probability, would ruin him; and even at this early period, the chase, the ball-room, and the harmonic society, were attended by him. Who would not have trembled for a youth of ardent feelings, so circumstanced? What parent would not have wept over, and prayed for him? Edrick's parents did not. Mr. Softman's spirit was broken down by his wife's conduct, and he was scarcely concerned about any thing. He had indeed made one or two faint efforts to convince him of his errors, but his own imprudence spoiled all the good effect which his advice might have produced; while Mrs. Softman was proud of the spirit of her son, and furnished him, most imprudently, with various sums, unknown to his father, to follow his pursuits.

On one occasion, Edrick had spent the former part of the Sabbath in company with a party of dissolute young men, at some few miles from home. It was in the uncertain month of March, when in the course of a few hours the wind often blows from every part of the compass. The house in which they were assembled was on the side of the Humber. A number of boats lay in a small creek, formed partly by nature and partly by art, for the accommodation of packets, while others were sailing on the smooth waters. Suddenly a squall arose, and shortly the whole of the aquatic sporters put to shore. The wind continued to rise, it blew with increased violence, the Humber rolled in dark billows, while occasionally the white foam with which the surges were tipped, gave to them a wilder appearance. Edrick and his companions looked out on the fury of the elements, and laughed at the fears of those who had been diverted from their pleasures by the gale. Two of the party, one of whom was Edrick, wished to display their courage and seamanship, and, excited by the spirits they had taken, betted with the others, that they

could, in a specified time, cross and recross the Humber. Fearless of consequences, the daring youths laughed at the advice and persuasions offered by those who were perfectly sober, and pushed their little bark before the wind. For a while they managed their vessel with great ability; now she sunk between the long dark billows, and then gallantly rose iike a swan, and rode upon the summit. A strong current at length drove them considerably to leeward. It became necessary for them to tack; the helm was put about, and she soon answered to the rudder, but in attempting to shift over the sail they became perplexed. The rope by which it was attached to a cleet which held it, was entangled, and in an instant a breaking wave went over them; the wind caught the vessel as she crossed the tide, and threw her on her broadside on the water: she filled, halfrighted, heaved fearfully, and sunk in five fathoms water. A long, loud shriek from those who stood on the shore, informed those who were in the house what had occurred; they rushed out, and saw the unhappy youths struggle for a few minutes with the waves, and then beheld them sink to rise no more!

Maria, at the time of her brother's awful death, had just completed her seventeenth year.

Her education, as I have stated, had been neglected. She was tall and genteel in person, but withal most coquetish in her manners. There were but few parties of which she was not one, or public exhibitions at which she was not present. Only a few months after Edrick's death, a ball was given in the neighbourhood; she was invited, and was imprudent enough to accept the invitation. She went, and her figure attracted the attention of a gentleman present, of wild and dissolute habits. He was little more than her own age, was dashing in his appearance, and engaging in his address. It was also known that he was presumptive heir to a considerable property, which, on the death of an aged relative, it was believed, would descend to him. He employed all his art during the evening, to gain and fix Maria's attention, and succeeded. This was her first introduction to the person in question, but strangers might have supposed it had been an acquaintance of intimate and long standing.

Imprudence and criminality are closely allied, and, in some instances, scarcely distinguishable. It was so in the case of Maria with her suitor. The evening closed with an engagement made for a private interview on the following night, between

herself and her new friend. They met, and for a few weeks these meetings were continued, and then they were married! The blooming hopes of the gentleman were instantly cut off, his fortune was transferred to another branch of his family, while himself and Maria were left to struggle on in wretchedness and misery. This was but of short continuance. The union had been the result of passion, and not of affectionate regard; hence, the object having been gained, the passion subsided; and he who, but a few weeks before, had vowed eternal love, abandoned her to grief and poverty. She sunk like a smitten flower before the rude gale, languished a brief period, and died the victim of imprudence.

The measure of Mr. Softman's misery now seemed to be full. His wife had long since made her very name odious to all his friends and acquaintance—hence they never visited or invited either of them. The foolish woman, stung to the quick by what she denominated the insult of her husband's friends, raged so much the more, and made his home increasingly miserable. He had not yet reached his fortieth year, but the sorrows of which his own imprudence had made him the victim, had given his form the appearance of more than fifty. To all he had already suffered, he was now called to bear the affliction of embarrassment in his circumstances. His connexions in trade had suffered by the conduct of his wife; and, as business declined, temporal difficulties increased. His mind's eye at length turned inwards,—his religious feelings were revived. Like Ephraim, he bemoaned himself: "Thou hast chastised Ine, and I was chastised, as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke; turn thou me, and I shall he turned, for thou art the Lord my God:" and concerning him, as of Ephraim, God said, "Since I spake against him, I do earnestly remember him still; therefore my bowels are troubled for him I will surely have mercy upon him," Jer. xxxi. 19, 21.

Nearly a score of years of almost unmixed misery, was closed with the participation of a bliss unending. He read his imprudence in his past sufferings, and wondered at the goodness which had spared, amidst multiplied provocations, and the mercy which had met, and brought him, through the Saviour, to God. On the eve of earthly poverty, he became rich, rich in the possession of the "pearl of great price," and heir to treasures in heaven." His stricken heart bowed within him, he blessed God, and died.

66

Mrs. Softman alone remained she

could scarcely be said to live, she merely vegetated. Her own enjoyments, and the happiness of others, she had cut off by her folly still she knew it not. With an ingenuity which could alone have been given birth to by deception of the most awful kind, she freed herself to herself, from all blame, and conceived she alone was the injured person. Unpitied and unfriended, the parish-house received her as an inmate of its humble walls, where, for some years, she dwindled out, and may yet continue to dwindle out, an existence of penury, rendered more painful by the sourness of an unbroken temper--an example of the evils, though insensible to the charge, of IMPRudence.

ADMONITORY DIALOGUE.

Senior. WELL, my young friend; I hope you have enjoyed a profitable week this Christmas?

Junior. Indeed, I have enjoyed myself very much, and particularly last night at our Christmas party.

S. I am glad to hear you have enjoyed yourself, and hope you have gained some useful information from the company.

J. You know I am of so lively a disposition, that I often substitute a frivolous spirit, instead of attention, when any profit. able conversation commences.

S. Too true; and as you are conscious of your error, try to reform. But, pray, with what were you so much entertained last evening?

J. Oh! many things; we had Miss X, Y, and Z, Mr. O, P, and Q, and several other persons, besides my sisters, cousins, uncle, and aunt.-I can assure you, we were as merry as we could wish to be.

S. Yes; yes; but, pray let me know what subject pleased you most?

J. Why, to be sure, when Mr. O. began to joke Miss X. about a certain young gentleman, who, he supposed, paid considerable attention to her.

S. And what information did you gain from this common, thread-bare subject?

J. Indeed, I think it was the most interesting subject we could have hit upon.

S. No doubt that it was interesting; but what benefit did you derive from it?

J. I learned that, "a faint heart will never win a fair lady."

S. That may be true in many instances; but recollect, that imprudent conduct never gains a virtuous wife.

J. Your reasoning seems very good, but there is no danger of my getting into any error of this description, as I am so young.

S. I admit you are young, and I observed your want of discretion the other day, when you were railing against the whole female sex; and making use of those mean, common-place jokes, which aim to lower their talents and importance in society.

J: I am sorry; I meant no harm; it was only to my sisters.

S. Although you meant no harm, it is unwise to reject advice because it comes from the feebler, but more refined, part of our nature ;-and very ungrateful to return sarcasm for affection, and ridicule for friendly advice, which, if attended to, might prove very beneficial to your future conduct.

J. I hope you don't think that I am so base as to make the fair sex the butt of ridicule in reality.

S. Perhaps not, but you may reap considerable advantage, by cultivating acquaintance with the fair sex.

J. I think, being too familiar with silly flirting girls, is rather dangerous.

S. I allow there is an evil in this; but what I recommend is the fostering care of considerate, respectable females, and especially if they have the advantage over you of a few years.

J. Then you think he whose connexions afford him no female society sustains a loss by this privation.

S. Most undoubtedly.

J. But there is some difficulty, if not impossibility, of gaining the attention of those you recommend.

S. I am aware every female is not of this description, but you have the protection of a kind mother and affectionate sisters.

J. Yes, but my sisters' company is quite old-fashioned.

S. You ought to consider yourself favourably situated, in having sisters who have done playing with dolls; do not oblige them, by your unfeeling conduct, to keep you at the distance of a mere acquaintance; try to deserve the character of their confidential friend: nothing is more ridiculous than to hear a brother complain of being tired of his sisters' company.

J. Well, I believe there is some profitable information to be derived from the sex, but unfortunately my awkwardness causes me to commit myself sometimes in their presence, which excites from them a titter, and this causes me to get out of the way of female society, and my feelings towards them sink into disgust or hatred.

S. You appear conscious of your deficiencies, and must know, that, to avoid the

As we pass along from day to day, we frequently hear and read of the ruinous effects of intemperance-the sudden deaths, the misery, poverty, and distress, into which whole families are thrown, by the degraded and unprincipled conduct of one individual.

On my arrival in the village of in the summer of 1826, I was delighted with the appearance of industry and enterprise that was eminently conspicuous in the inhabitants. The first Sabbath of my ministry, my congregation was small, but respectable. Our church was new-it was unfurnished -there was no Bible in the pulpit. When I came down from the sacred desk, a young man stepped forward, and said, “Sir, I perceived that it was rather difficult for you to find your text in your small pocket Bible; if you will allow me, I will present you one for your pulpit." I thanked him, and said in my heart, "Surely, this is a good beginning, on the first morning of my ministry to be presented with a handsome edition of the word of God!"

For some weeks, I laboured daily. There was a deep attention, but none had as yet exhibited any signs of the awakening power of God. At length the work broke out; not with that overwhelming influence which I have seen in many reformations, but with a slow, sure pace. In a short time our house was furnished; we built a new vestry, and the Lord prospered us greatly. I commenced my labours with six members in society, and at the expiration of two years we had two hundred and fifty. Whenever there was any thing to be done, or any scheme of benevolence or philanthropy going forward, my young friend was ever ready and willing to promote it. He had an amiable and lovely wife, and three very interesting children. He was a constant attendant on the word of God, and many hours of social happiness have I enjoyed with him and his pleasant companion. It appeared as if the Scriptures were verified in him, for all that he took in hand prospered; he was blessed in his basket and store. When I left him, I was in hopes he

would be a pillar in the Lord's house. It is true, he never appeared to feel the saving influence of the Holy Spirit; but I hoped the seed which had been sown had taken root in good ground, and that when I was called to give an account of my ministry, I should find him at the right hand of God.

I was permitted to visit that part of the country again, after an absence of three years. But, alas! the visit, to which I had looked forward with so much pleasure, was indeed a mournful one. Reader, you have seen the exterminating effects of fire, and you have felt how lonely and desolate it is, to visit a place you had once known, and to inquire for your friends, and hear the oftrepeated answer, "They too are dead." But even in this there is a consolation; for you frequently hear of their triumphant departure for another and a better world. But to meet them after years of separation, and to find them drunkards, and almost brute-like in their appearance, all feeling of shame, all sense of remorse, drowned in the inebriating cup, as was the case with

on my arrival at -; O how different the scene! I inquired for one friend, and the answer was, "O, sir, he became a drunken miserable sot, he neglected his business, and failed, and his wife and children are in the most abject poverty." I inquired for another and another, but alas, the answer was still the same-all had failed, and intemperance had been their ruin. It made my heart bleed, but I never thought that among the general wreck occasioned by this scourge of mankind, my friend S could have been one of the number. I proposed calling on him; but, O my God! the thrilling answer was returned, "He will not know you." I inquired, "Why?" My informant replied, "Ah! sir, it is but seldom that he has any recollection." I was horrorstruck; I feared that some dreadful calamity had happened to him. But, alas ! my worst fears did not come near the truth. I found, on inquiry, that about a year after my leaving

he had become concerned in a distillery. He commenced with tasting; then took a little dram in the forenoon; from this he could take a little in the afternoon; and in the course of a few months, the much beloved and once highly respected Swould be carried home to his wife in a state of brutal intoxication. I called upon him the next day; he met me with an idiot smile, but seemed to have no recollectionnd; yet when his wife named me, for a moment reason seemed to flash across his brain. I talked with him for some time; but, alas! all recollection had fled. The tears fell down the pale features of his