Danger of skepticism.-Who is sufficient?

munity into sects, must be left to the family, the sab hath-school, and the pulpit. The teacher is responsi ble for his honesty in this matter. While he has no right to lord it over the private conscience of any one, he is inexcusable, if, believing the great truths of the Bible, he puts them away as if they concerned him not. They should command his faith, and govern his conduct; and their claims upon the young should not be disowned.

At any rate, the teacher should be careful that his teaching and his example do not prejudice the youthful mind against these truths. It is a hazardous thing for a man to be skeptical by himself, even when he locks his opinions up in the secrecy of his own bosom; how great then is the responsibility of teaching the young to look lightly upon the only book that holds out to us the faith of immortality, and opens to us the hope of heaven! Let the teacher well consider this matter, and take heed that his teaching shall never lead one child of earth away from his heavenly Father, or from the rest of the righteous in the home of the blest.

In view of what has been said, the young candidate for the teacher's office, almost in despair of success, may exclaim, "Who is sufficient for these things?" "Who can meet and sustain such responsibility?" My answer is, the true inquirer after duty will not go astray. He is insufficient for these things, who is self-confident, who has not yet learned his own weak ness, who has never found out his own faults, and wh

Inexcusable indifference.-The honest inquirer may hope.

rushes to this great work, as the unheeding "horse rusheth into the battle," not knowing whither he goeth. Alas, how many there are who enter this profession without the exercise of a single thought of the responsibleness of the position, or of any of the great questions which must in their schools for the first time be presented for their decision! How many there are who never reflect upon the influence of their example before the young, and are scarcely conscious that their example is of any consequence! Such, in the highest sense, will fail of success. How can they be expected to go right, where there is only one right way, but a thousand wrong? Let such persons pause and consider, before they assume responsibilities which they can neither discharge nor evade. Let such ask with deep solicitude, "Who is sufficient for these things?"

But to the young person really desirous of improvement; to him who has taken the first and important step toward knowledge, by making the discovery that every thing is not already known; to him who sees beforehand that there are real difficulties in this profession, and who is not too proud or self-conceited to feel the need of special preparation to meet them; to him who has some idea of the power of example in the educator, and who desires most of all things that his character shall be so pure as to render his example safe; to him who has discovered that there are some deep mysteries in human nature, and that they are only to be fathomed by careful study to him who really feels that a great thing is to be done, and who

Visit to the prison.-Neatness and order.—An inquiry.-Library.

has the sincere desire to prepare himself to do it aright; to nim, in short, who has the true spirit of the teacher,―I may say, there is nothing to fear. An honest mind, with the requisite industry, is sufficient for these things.

SECTION III.-THE AUBURN STATE PRISON,

DURING my visit at Auburn in the autumn of 1845, I was invited by a friend to visit the prison, in which at that time were confined between six and seven hundred convicts. I was first taken through the various workshops, where the utmost neatness and order pre vailed. As I passed along, my eye rested upon one after another of the convicts, I confess, with a feeling of surprise. There were many good-looking men. If, instead of their parti-colored dress, they could have been clothed in the citizen's garb, I should have thought them as good in appearance as laboring men in general. And when, to their good appearance, was added their attention to their work, their ingenuity, and the neatness of their work-rooms, my own mind began to press the inquiry, Why are these men here? It was the afternoon of Saturday. Many of them had completed their allotted work for the week, and with happy faces were performing the customary ablutions preparatory to the sabbath. Passing on, we came to the library, a collection of suitable books for the convicts, which are given out as a reward for diligence to those who have seasonably and faithfully performed

Wyatt the murderer.-Sabbath morn.-General view.

their labor. Here were many who had come to take their books. Their faces beamed with delight as they each bore away the desired volume, just as I had seen the faces of the happy and the free do before. Why are these men here? was again pressed upon me;— why are these men here ?

At this time the famous WYATT, since executed upon the gallows for his crime, was in solitary confinement, awaiting his trial for the murder of Gordon, a fellow-prisoner. I was permitted to enter his room. Chained to the floor, he was reclining upon his mattress in the middle of his apartment. As I approached him, his large black eye met mine. He was a handsome man. His head was well developed, his long black hair hung upon his neck, and his eye was one of the most intelligent I ever beheld. Had I seen him in the senate among great men,—had I seen him in a school of philosophers, or a brotherhood of poets, I should probably have selected him as the most remarkable man among them all, without suspecting his distinction to be a distinction of villany. Why is that man here? thought I, as I turned away to leave him to his dreadful solitude.

The morrow was the Sabbath. I could not repress my desire to see the convicts brought together for worship. At the hour of nine I entered their chapel, and found them all seated in silence. I was able to see most of the faces of this interesting congregation. It was by no means the worst looking congregation I had ever seen. There were evidently bad men there;

Worship. Singing.-Prayer.-Deep feeling.

but what congregation of free men does not present some such?

They awaited in silence the commencement of the service. When the morning hymn was read, they joined in the song, the chorister being a colored man of their own number. They sung as other congregations sing, and my voice joined with theirs. The Scripture was read. They gave a respectful attention. The prayer was begun. Some bowed in apparent reverence at the commencement. Others sat erect, and two or three of these appeared to be the hardened sons of crime. The chaplain's voice was of a deep, perhaps I should say, a fatherly tone, and he seemed to have the father's spirit. He prayed for these "wayward ones," who were deprived of their liberty for their offenses, but whom God would welcome to his throne of mercy. He prayed for their homes, and for their friends who this day would send their thoughts hither in remembrance of those in bonds. He alluded to the scenes of their childhood, the solicitude of their early friends, and the affection of their parents. When the words home, friend, childhood, were heard, several of those sturdy sons of crime and wretchedness instinctively bowed their heads and concealed their faces in their hands; and as a father's blessing and a mother's love were alluded to, more than one of these outcasts from society, were observed to dash the scalding tear from the eye. These men feel like other men,—why are they here? was again he thought which forced itself upon my mind; and