"I am, I am!" replied Henry; "but I am afraid it is too late!"

"Do not be discouraged.

'In the day thou seekest me with all

thy heart, I will be found of thee.""

In the mean time this earnest, pious and now really elated mother, had arisen, and, seating herself by her children, entered still more minutely into Henry's emotions. Then they all knelt in prayer. In a soft, melting, sympathizing tone of voice, she laid the case of her dear son before a throne of grace. To this the apostle had invited her to "come boldly." Her heart warmed, her voice became broken, tears flowed, tears of gratitude, tears of hope. Henry wrung his hands, sobbed, broke out in ejaculations, confessed his sins, pleaded for mercy, and finally ventured to indulge a hope that God was propitious. The work was evangelical. Light came gradually. But ere long he felt a peace like a river flowing through his soul.

The scene closed. Years have rolled away. That mother is in heaven. That son is on Zion's walls. Who will say that here is not an instance of the triumph of a mother's prayers? To God be the glory.

LITTLE THINGS.

LITTLE drops of water,

Little grains of sand,

Make the mighty ocean
And the beauteous land,

And the little moments,
Humble though they be,
Make the mighty ages
Of eternity.

So our little errors

Lead the soul away

From the paths of virtue,
Oft in sin to stray.

Little deeds of kindness,
Little words of love,
Make our earth an Eden,
Like the heaven above.

Little seeds of mercy,

Sown by youthful hands,
Grow to bless the nations,

Far in heathen lands.

EXACTNESS.

A FAMILY CONVERSATION.

EDITORIAL.

MRS. PRESTON, an excellent, sensible, conscientious woman, was sitting one day at work with her two young daughters, Ellen and Mary. Mary gave a yawn, and, rolling the garment she had been hemming into a wisp, tucked it carelessly into one corner of her work-basket, from which various odds and ends were dangling. Upon this, Ellen said gently and pleasantly:

"Will you please, sister, fold your work neatly, and, when you go to our room, place your basket more carefully on the shelf, and not leave long ends hanging from it? Several times lately I have been obliged to stop and gather up from the floor every article which belongs to your work-basket."

Mary." Why did you not let it alone till I was ready to do it myself?"

Ellen."I do not like to sit down in a disorderly room. I want to see everything in its place. It makes me uncomfortable even to look into one of your drawers, and see gloves, combs, ruffles and handkerchiefs, all heaped together in confusion, and so tumbled and rumpled as to be entirely unfit for a neat girl to wear."

Mary." And I cannot help laughing on looking into yours; every collar lying so prim and stiff, and in just such a corner, side by side; every ribbon on a roller, and every handkerchief made into the most exact of parallelograms. I am sorry for you, for it is clear as daylight, that you were cut out for an old maid,' as they always say such exact people are."

Ellen. "And if I were, I don't know that I should need your pity, sister. It may be so. I have heard similar. remarks before." But how a girl, who has everything about her in disorder, all at sixes and sevens, one who never comes into a room without putting other people out, in some way or other, by her carelessness, can be expected to make a desirable wife, a better mother, or a cleverer housekeeper, than one who is exact and orderly, is more than I can comprehend. I have no reference to you, Mary, or myself either; but if the thing is true, I want mother to explain it to me."

Mother."The fact is not so, my dear. We frequently see a foolish fancy indulged, in spite of the most glaring faults. But nothing is more useful, nothing more necessary to character, and nothing more attractive to a sensible person, than habits of exactness in what we do or say. Perhaps, of all practical, every-day qualities, this has more influence upon a woman's own character, and upon the happiness of those around her, than any other. It is far more likely than its opposite to be associated with industry, perseverance, good temper,"

Mary (interrupting). -"Ah, yes; but I don't care about possessing those common, humdrum qualities. I do not wish that people should admire me for that sort of character. I have been reading some charming novels during my long visits at my aunt's, full of the most delightful heroines, and I have heard a great deal of conversation about brilliant women, especially authoresses, and they all soar above these things; they are beneath their notice. How is it to be expected that wit, imagination and intellect can condescend to keeping drawers in order, or to watching a clock so as not to be behind an appointment? To be sure, many of these ladies dressed in satins and velvets, when they went into company, but they made the drollest mistakes, leaving one side of their hair in papers, forgetting to hook their dresses, or wearing thick India rubbers all the evening. This was nothing, however, to the charming confusion in which they left their rooms at home; floor, chair-backs, mantelpieces, you should hear their friends describe them."

Mother.

Pray, who were some of these celebrated ladies?" Mary."Miss C, the poetess, Miss D, the novel-writer, and Mrs. E- the brilliant conversationist." "

Mother."My dear, permit me to tell you that you have named three women of very small natural abilities, very ill-trained minds, and very undesirable reputations; women who have obtained a small notoriety by their contempt of the ordinary rules of propriety, but who have failed to secure the respect of the well-judging. A great deal has been said about the eccentricities of genius; and some have thought that by adopting the eccentricity they should get credit for the genius. But they have found themselves mistaken. ⚫ Look at really superior women, those who have acquired lasting fame and influence by the successful exertion of their talents. How have the manners, habits, and private character of Miss Edgeworth, Hannah

More, Joanna Baillie, and Miss Mitford been described? Perhaps you are not as familiar with the lives of these ladies as I hope you will one day be; but let me tell you that a fondness for domestic life, and the cultivation of the qualities which make home pleasant and beautiful, was, or is a characteristic of every one of them. They are represented, not only as simple in their tastes, affectionate and loving in their dispositions, but as being lady-like, neat and exact, in a remarkable degree. And if you ever have an opportunity to mingle with women of the highest class of mind in our own country, you will find among them similar characteristics. The same clearness of judgment, quickness of perception, and love of the beautiful, which would enable them to conceive and execute an admirable work, would also lead them to set a high value on those qualities on which the beauty and the comfort of ordinary life depend."

Mary."I never should think of looking to such distinguished women for an example. Do let us leave those great characters, and come back to us little people. I never expect to become an authoress, and I cannot say that I ever wish to be one. But I think it is very hard, when we are young, to require us to be so very exact and particular."

Mother." If the habit is worth having, it is worth while to try and form it while one is young. That is the time to form habits."

Mary." But I do not see the use of it. I think I should be happier without it; and is it not best to enjoy ourselves in our own way? It is so tiresome to be exact about every little, trifling thing!"

Mother." Our lives are made up of little things. That which is constantly recurring, if ever so great a trifle, becomes a matter of importance. You fancy you would be happier if left to the careless enjoyment of every pleasure, without thinking what you owe to others, or of what you truly owe to yourself. Let us see. You are now fourteen years old. Suppose you were to live till you are seventy, the age allotted to man. There are fifty-six years, or twenty thousand four hundred and forty days, every one of which

must receive a color from the habits you form in childhood and youth. Suppose you are a little late at every meal. It seems a trifle; but it puts all the family out more or less. It takes away a ray of sunshine, and brings a shadow of cloud. Suppose, in all these years and days, you are a few minutes behind every appointment

with your friends and acquaintances. How many grave or displeased faces, how many unpleasant remarks, how many actual losses of pleasure or advantage which might have been secured by a habit of exactness! Suppose you always leave your clothes in disorder, hanging on the backs of chairs, or fallen from the pegs in littered closets. How many wrinkles, folds and stains of dust are caught, which give an untidy appearance to the person, or create a great expense in the purchase of new articles! How many books are spoiled, sometimes borrowed books, too, from being carelessly left open, or exposed, instead of being closed and laid carefully on a shelf. How many miserable meals are eaten, how much detestable cookery there is in the world, cheating the appetite out of its natural and rightful enjoyment, and even producing long and painful illnesses, from want of the necessary exactness in the preparation of food! But it is useless to go on enumerating instances. Every one who reflects at all, must perceive, that, in every hour of the day and in every operation of life, this habit of exactness is necessary to comfort, to well-being and to cheerful enjoyment. And it is wrong to suppose that it is inconsistent with taste, or with those pleasures which lie in the peculiar domain of imagination and feeling. What would music, sculpture, painting or architecture be without it? A wrong note, or line, or particle, and harmony, symmetry and beauty, are destroyed. Everythings seems spontaneous, but, at the same time, all in the arts approaching perfection is really the result of the most careful and exact training. In the arranging of furniture in a room, the laying out of a flower-garden, even the tying of a boquet, the eye and hand which have been trained to exactness in disposing of lights and shades, form and color, will produce much finer effects than the careless throwing together of the choicest materials. And if it is necessary to train genius and talent to exactness in order to produce a high pleasure to the imagination, how much more so in the ordinary affairs of life, where our comforts, pleasures and advantages depend so much upon it! We do not often have an opportunity to look at a fine picture or statue; but we every day experience a sensible gratification when the bell rings for dinner at the expected moment; when our friend shows sufficient regard for our feelings and our time not to disturb the one or waste the other by idle waiting beyond the appointed hour; when a little daughter, with smooth hair and every article of her dress in order, is ready to sit down to