ance, the need of a change of heart, and laments continually that the heart is not given to Christ. When this is suspended as it must be, the parent seems to think that everything is going wrong, and that precious opportunities are wasted, and returns as soon as practicable, to the subject of sin and conversion, solemnly pressing the importance of being prepared to die. Another parent, feeling an equal anxiety for the conversion of his child, considers that such a work God is responsible for, and therefore controls his own anxieties and goes on calmly with his own work, trusting quietly and peacefully to God. He knows that the young may, by certain means, be very much interested in religious truth, properly presented, and in the means of religion, judiciously employed, even before the heart is changed. He follows this plan steadily, and lays himself out for a continual, prevailing religious influence, exerted in a mode adapted to the mind and feelings of youth, and advancing and unfolding in its course as those feelings become more interested. The conversion of the child is the prominent object in the parent's mind, but he feels that he can only employ the means, leaving the results to God. All the instruction is rendered appropriate and interesting, and even pleasant, for religious truth is pleasant, when properly presented. The great matter of a calin and peaceful and pious life, one full of hope and joy, and the unspeakable glory of departing from it with an interest in the Saviour, are placed before the young,-not in dry precept, or simply as a Bible duty, but is illustrated by example. Now, on these two plans, what may we expect as results? what does experience teach us? Perhaps, in the first family, the feeling soon becomes strong, that none of the duties of religion can be engaged in, until there is a change of heart,— that consistency demands this, and in the meantime there is no taste, no relish for any religious subject, and scarcely in the means of grace, because such subjects have never been presented in an interesting, hardly in an intelligible form. The fact of conversion having been talked about, and the restraints of religion having been more urged than its real enjoyments, it seems as if they had no business with religion until they felt converted to God. It becomes now very difficult to make any serious subject sufficiently acceptable; and if the outward forms are ever resorted to, it is evidently without any great interest of the heart. We may suppose, that if the family is numerous, after a time, one or two may become decidedly pious, and one or two others may perhaps respect religion; and of the others, some may be reprobates, and the rest entirely neglect personal religion, and all interest in it. That there will be piety in such a family we cannot well doubt, because truth, though injudiciously presented, has, nevertheless, been pressed upon the attention, and the family been a family of prayer, and other means helping to counteract and overcome the errors of such a system, may be often enjoyed; but, we may expect that a great want of religious interest will be the consequence, and the conversion will not be early in life, and perhaps a decidedly immoral course may intervene. We shall, however, hear much of the striking instances of conversion, and of the mother's prayers, and parental faith. In the other family, we may expect to find throughout, or nearly so, an early attention to the duties of religion, and a respectful interest in the various means of grace. The Bible and prayer will be companions, and if the parents, (as we suppose) know and practice the precepts of the gospel, we cannot but think that the children are placed in the way of the divine blessing, and will become to a large extent partakers of it. - - Upon the plan proposed, the chief danger is, that there may grow up an impression that religious duties are religion itself, a self-satisfying conviction that the performance of external duty is a sufficient support until the religion of the heart is engrafted, that the interest felt in religious means may be mistaken for interest in religion itself. But I ask if this deception. is not easily prevented or removed, where the gospel is faithfully presented. Let us think of families which are thus brought up, and watch the results and mode of education. The same remarks will apply to Sabbath School teaching. As the subject is still interesting, I intend in another letter to pursue it and bring up some illustrations. I am, Madam, Very affectionately yours, LITERARY REMAINS OF MISS consolations of that gospel by MARTHA DAY; with Dr. Fitch's which immortality was brought Address at her funeral; and to light, than when contempla sketches of her character. 12mo. ting the sudden extinction of pp. 121. New Haven. 1834. those, who had. but just commenced their course amidst the most flattering promises of a There are few occasions on which we feel more deeply the * The foregoing letters were actually addressed to a mother by a pastor, in the course of his parochial duties, and were procured for our pages through the instrumentality of a third person. We hope to receive the third letter. Eps. bright and glorious career. With out this assurance of immortality, all would be darkness and perplexity, when we observe powers of the highest order kindled up but for a moment and then extinguished, or veiled forever from a world which they were so well qualified to enlighten; and virtues which tended only to the production of happiness, suddenly withdrawn from the very theatre which they were fitted to embellish. But all the darkness which would have hung over such a scene is dissipated, and the clear light of an everlasting day is now shed upon the graves of those who are cut off at the moment, when, by their virtues and intellectual attainments, they seemed to be eminently prepared for the most extensive usefulness. We see in such an event the mere transference of the most beautiful flowers from the nursery where their existence commenced, and where their earliest beauties were developed, to that garden where they will bloom forever, amid all the countless forms of beauty with which they are now surrounded. Heaven cannot be a place of inaction, nor can we doubt that the same attributes in our friends which render their continuance with us most desirable, are precisely those which render them fittest to be removed to a higher and more extended field of action. These thoughts have been suggested, by the early death of the accomplished and much lamented author of the writings named at the head of this article. The volume was printed we believe, only for private circulation among the friends of the author, and of her family, and has consequently never been published. Miss Day, was the eldest daughter of the Rev. Jeremiah Day, D. D. President of Yale College. Few persons possessed, in a more eminent degree, those traits of character, which rivet most firmly the bonds of friendship. Gentle, unassuming, and ever devoted to the happiness of those around her, she seemed to live but for the purpose of rendering the world better and happier. Her duties to her parents, and to her brothers and sisters, were performed in such a manner, as left nothing to be desired; and the same kindness was experienced by all, who came within the circle of her influence. Her natural temper was peculiarly placid and serene; happy in herself, she delighted to witness and to produce happiness in all around her. Of this natural amiableness none enjoyed the fruits in a higher degree than her younger sisters, in whose enjoyments she participated, and to whose happiness she devoted herself in a manner that can never be forgotten by those who witnessed it. Her natural amiableness was under the direction of a deep and fervent, but eminently enlightened piety; and her life was a most striking exhibition of the Christian character — a character in which Christianity was embodied in action. Her talents were of the first order, and under the direction of kind, than she had yet attempted, when she was suddenly removed, at the age of twentyone years. Of the poetical compositions contained in this volume, several are of a high order, especially The Dove, The Comet's Flight, and Twilight Musings. We have room only for the latter, which it is true is of a less elevated character than either of the other two. Her early death, however, serves to give to it a kind of prophetic character. TWILIGHT MUSINGS. Written at the commencement of her 18th year. The rose or myrtle bough should lean, Not e'en the willow near should wave, Nor aught but wild flowers there be seen. I would not wish that those I love Should wander there at close of day, her parents, she had cultivated them with great assiduity, and with corresponding success. She was intimately acquainted with the Latin, Greek, and French languages, and had made considerable progress in German. In mathematical attainments, and in the sciences depending upon mathematics, she had few equals among those of her own age; and with most, perhaps all of the studies which pertain to a liberal education in the colleges of this country, she was familiar. Those attainments, too, she had made, without sacrificing any of those elegant accomplishments, which properly belong to the education of a Christian female, in the more favored walks of life. In her manners there was a singular union of simplicity and elegance, and her conversation united playfulness with dignity. Her mind was peculiarly well balanced, and though she might have had a preference for some employments and pursuits over others, it did not lead her to neglect any. Her writings were distinguished by great brilliancy and strength of imagination, as well as maturity of judgment. Her voluntary compositions were always the mere overflowings of her mind, with no purpose of distinction to be gained by her efforts, and with no consciousness that her productions were entitled to any peculiar attention. She had just reached that period, when her literary talents would have been O! should I wish those hearts to grieve? more fully developed, and when her pen would have been more frequently employed, and in productions of a more finished And think of her o'er whom they rove, Or, gazing on the little mound, Imagine all they cannot see, And starting at the slightest sound, With chilling horror think of me. That both to them and me was dear, There I would not be all forgot, Yet ne'er remembered with a tear. In the sweet bower I loved so well, With notes of spirit melody. And something in the half-heard strain And bringing thoughts all free from pain, Or when around the cheerful hearth, Yet I would hover in the air, And bind each heart with spells unknown, Till they should feel my spirit there, Each glance of childhood's sparkling eye, All should some token bear of me. Yet, with my memory, should not come To the preceding, we will add the following lines, which seem to us to be peculiarly rich in thought, and felicitous in expression. The subject is the 25th and 26th verses of the 102d Psalm, "Óf old hast thou laid the foundation of the earth; and the heavens are the work of thy hands. They shall all perish, but thou shalt endure, yea all of them shall wax old like a garment; as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed." The boundless universe, All that it hath of splendor and of life, Even the still and holy depths of heaven, Forever pouring from a thousand suns,- Yea, the dark foldings of his outmost skirts. Watch on in silence, till within thy soul, DISTURBANCES IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY. [It may be necessary to say a word, for the information of readers at a distance, in respect to the occasion which has drawn from our correspondent the following article. There has been recently a disturbance, or rather a series of disturbances, in Harvard University, similar in kind to those which have from time to time occurred in other colleges, though, perhaps, rather more serious in extent than usual. They originated in some personal misunderstanding between a student and an instructor, and gradually extended until a very large number of students were involved. Irregular if not riotous proceedings ensued, leading to a considerable destruction of college property, offences for which the guilty are amenable to the civil law. The case has attracted special interest from the fact that President Quincy has left the business in hands of the civil authority, just as would be done in the case of similar offences committed by any other portion of the community,a course which has not generally been customary in the colleges of the United States.] EDs. It has been customary, we believe, for the periodical press in this country, to take little or no notice of the difficulties, which occur from time to time in our colleges. It has been thought expedient to leave the parties concerned in such affairs to settle them according to their own laws and customs, without bringing their proceedings before the tribunal of public opinion, a tribunal which, however competent in ordinary cases, has been |