The Cabinet.

RECIPROCAL DUTIES OF HUSBANDS AND WIVES. EPH. V. 83.

1. THAT the happiness of society depends on just views of the marriage relation.-It is true, the world over, that the views which prevail in regard to this relation determine everything in reference to all other relations of life, and to all other sources of enjoyment, 2. God designed that woman should occupy a subordinate, though an important, place in the relations of social life.-This arrangement is never disregarded without evils which cannot be corrected, until the original intention is secured. No imaginary good that can come out of the violation of the original design,-no benefits which females, individual or associated, can confer on mankind by disregarding this arrangement, can be a compensation for the evil that is done, nor can the evil be remedied, unless woman occupies the place which God designed she should fill. There nothing else can supply her place; and when she is absent from that situation, no matter what good she may be doing elsewhere, there is a silent evil reigning, which can be removed only by her return. It is not hers to fight battles, or to command armies and navies, or to control kingdoms, or to make laws; nor is it hers to go forth as a public leader even in enterprises of benevolence, or in associations designed to act on the public mind. Her empire is the domestic circle; her first influence is there; and in connection with that, in such scenes as she can engage in without trenching on the prerogative of man, or neglecting the duty which she owes to her own family.

3. It is not best that there should be the open exercise of authority in a family. When commands begin in the relation of husband and wife, happiness flies; and the moment a husband is disposed to command his wife, or is under the necessity of doing it, that moment he may bid adieu to domestic peace and joy.

4. A wife, therefore, should never give her husband occasion to command her to do anything, or to forbid anything. His known wish, except in cases of conscience, should be law to her. The moment she can ascertain what his will is, that moment ought to settle her mind as to what is to be done.

5. A husband should never wish, or expect, anything that it may not be perfectly proper for a wife to render.-He, too, should consult her wishes; and when he understands what they are, he should regard what she prefers as the very thing he would command. The known wish and preference of a wife, unless there be something wrong in it, should be allowed to influence his mind, and be that which he directs in the family.

6. There is no danger that a husband will love a wife too much,

provided his love be subordinate to the love of God.-The command is to love her "as Christ loved the church." What love has ever been like that? How can a husband exceed it? What did not Christ endure to redeem the church? So should a husband be willing to deny himself to promote the happiness of his wife; to watch by her in sickness, and, if need be, to peril health and life to promote her welfare. Doing this, he will not go beyond what Christ did for the church. He should remember that she has a special claim of justice on him. For him she has left her father's home, forsaken the friends of her youth, endowed him with whatever property she may have, sunk her name in his, confided her honour, her character, and her happiness to his virtue; and the least that he can do for her is to love her, and strive to make her happy. This was what she asked when she consented to become his; and a husband's love is what she still asks to sustain and cheer her in the trials of life. If she has not this, whither shall she go for comfort? 7. We may see, then, the guilt of those husbands who withhold their affection for their wives, and forsake those to whom they had solemnly pledged themselves at the altar; those who neglect to provide for their wants, or to minister to them in sickness; and those who become the victims of intemperance, and leave their wives to tears.—There is much, much guilt of this kind on earth. There are many, many broken vows. There are many, many hearts made to bleed. There is many a pure and virtuous woman, who was once the object of tender affection, now, by no fault of hers, forsaken, abused, broken-hearted, by the brutal conduct of a husband.

8. Wives should manifest such a character as to be worthy of love. They owe this to their husbands, and they demand the confidence and affection of man; and they should show that they are worthy of that confidence and affection. It is not possible to love that which is unlovely, nor to force affection where it is undeserved; and as a wife expects that a husband will love her more than he does any other earthly being, it is but right that she should evince such a spirit as shall make that proper. A wife may easily alienate the affections of her partner in life. If she is irritable and faultfinding-if none of his ways please her-if she takes no interest in his plans and in what he does-if she forsakes her home when she should be there, and seeks happiness abroad-or if at home she never greets him with a smile-if she is wasteful of his earnings, and extravagant in her habits, it will be impossible to prevent the effects of such a course of life on his mind. And when a wife perceives the slightest evidence of alienated affection in her husband, she should at once inquire whether she has not given occasion for it, and exhibited such a spirit as inevitably tended to produce such a result?

9. To secure mutual love, therefore, it is necessary that there should be mutual kindness, and mutual loveliness of character. Whatever is seen to be offensive or painful should be at once aban

doned. All the little peculiarities of temper and modes of speech that are observed to give pain should be forsaken; and, while one party should endeavour to tolerate them, and not to be offended, the other should make it a matter of conscience to remove them.

10. The great secret of conjugal happiness is in the cultivation of a proper temper. It is not so much in the great and trying scenes of life that the strength of virtue is tested: it is in the events that are constantly occurring; the manifestation of kindness in the things that are happening every moment; the gentleness that flows along every day, like the stream that winds through the meadow and around the farm-house, noiseless but useful, diffusing fertility by day and by night. Great deeds rarely occur. The happiness of life depends little on them, but mainly on the little acts of kindness in life. We need them everywhere; we need them always. eminently in the marriage relation there is need of gentleness and love, returning each morning, beaming in the eye, and dwelling in the heart through the live-long day.

And

SABBATH SICKNESS.

Nor long since, on hearing it related that a certain minister was accustomed, in the stated exercises of the sanctuary, to pray for the ungodly sick, who were able to labour hard through the week, but too ill to attend public worship on the sabbath, our attention was especially directed to this suffering class of fellow-beings. And as the disease is far more prevalent than is generally imagined, and it is thought to be contagious, as whole families usually have it when the head is materially affected-and frightfully dangerous-it seems but an act of common humanity to give the alarm. From the development of its symptoms, for the sake of convenience, we have named it, "Sabbath Sickness;' or, if any should prefer the term, they may call it "Sunday ague."

The seat of the disease is said to be the heart, and through that organ the head and other parts of the system become affected. It is not, however, an enlargement of the heart, but rather an extreme contraction of that organ. Moreover, it is found that persons who naturally have small hearts are predisposed to the disease; and on such, remedial agents have less effect. Like other internal diseases, its approaches are insidious and stealthy; and although the subject constantly bears with him the elements of the malady, which may be seen by the careful observer, yet as the symptoms are remittent, and only develop themselves strongly on the return of the sabbath, the patient has little or no apprehension of evil from this seventhday ague.

But his apathy increases his dangers. The most intelligent authors who have written upon it, are all agreed, without a remedy applied, it invariably terminates in death. And what may seem

singular, it is said that on the dawn of a future sabbath, of which the present is only a figure or prelude, each and all of these subjects of sabbath sickness will be found incurably sick-the whole head sick and the whole heart faint-and totally unfit for the services of the true tabernacle-and on that memorable sabbath they will all die.

The premonitory symptoms of this disease are, during the week, inordinate love of the world, extreme devotion to the pursuit of its honours, its pleasures, and its profits, accompanied with a disrelish for secret prayer or pious meditation, and an apprehension of the want of time for reading the Scriptures, and for family devotion. As the sabbath morning dawns, the subject manifests great lassitude and debility; sighs, groans, complains of divers pains, becomes nervous, dreads especially a sabbath fog, or a little rain, rises late, breakfasts on the greatest luxury the house affords, eats voraciously, and then begins to think about the services of the day.

If the attack is light, the weather fair, and all things favourable, he drags himself to the house of worship. But here the symptoms of sabbath sickness in its mildest forms are often seen. The subject is seen to seat himself or herself in a convenient place-say in the corner of a pew, as he or she feels the premonitory symptoms coming on. The eyes look heavy, the eyelids drop, the muscles of the neck give way, his respiration appears asthmatic, and he drops into a death-like stupor. Towards the close of the exercises, the patient gives signs of life, gradually raises the head, and the red forehead and blinking eyes, as they gradually salute the light, plainly say that animal life is not extinct. By the time the benediction is pronounced, the paroxysm appears over, the subject has the hat or parasol ready, and with a countenance bright and beaming, starts for home, rejoicing in the prospect of six more happy days before the return of the day of evil.

But if the sabbath morning attack be severe, the sufferer is far too ill to attend church, and lounges away the whole forenoon. In the afternoon the symptoms abate, and the person is often seen about his fields, salting his sheep or cattle, or otherwise devoting himself to the worship of mammon. As the evening comes on, he appears quite well. The plans of operation for the coming week are all made. The wagon is loaded for the mill or market, and the gloom and sorrows of the past are all forgotten in the prospect of

to-morrow.

But the worst form in which this disease manifests itself, is that in which it so affects the head as to derange the judgment. The heart at first dreads the prescribed duties of the sabbath, until through sympathy the judgment is perverted, and the subject is left to say, and half believe, that there are no duties peculiar to the sabbath. In this state of delirium, the subject of sabbath sickness seeks to drive off the disorder by sweating at hard labour, or by dissipation at the place of vain recreation. We sometimes see this

class with their cradle, sickle, scythe, rake, or pitchfork, tugging, and toiling, to cure this troublesome disease, and to secure such blessings to themselves as Infinite Wisdom has overlooked, and Divine providence cannot provide. They must work on the sabbath, or die of want!

But there is a remedy for this wide-spread contagious epidemic. Let the sufferer take daily a proper dose of godly sorrow, combined with self-denial, mixed with precious faith, and exercise himself unto godliness; and in severe cases double the dose, and take it, fasting, on sabbath morning, and the cure is sure. The seventh-day ague will disappear, and the sabbath-dread no more trouble the poor invalid. The sabbath will become his delight, and his duties his meat and his drink. And soon, very soon, for ever cured of sabbath sickness, he shall enjoy that sabbath of rest which only remains to the people of God. The prescription is safe for all, within the reach of all, and the author advertises, "No cure, no pay." May all soon apply, and be healed. In the meantime, we intreat the prayers of the whole church, with those of the ministers, in behalf of the ungodly sick.

INFIDELITY AND CHRISTIANITY COMPARED IN THEIR DIFFICULTIES.-No. II.

"In which are some things hard to be understood, which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other scriptures, unto their own destruction," 2 PET. iii. 16.

Ir is a very mistaken notion which infidels have entertained, that, renouncing Christianity to embrace infidelity, they get rid of all difficulty, so that everything becomes clear as a summer's noon, when the heavens are without a cloud; whereas a worse than Egyptian night immerses them, the light of reason and of nature failing to illumine the darkness by a single gleam.

True, Christianity contains "things hard to be understood,”—indeed, which cannot be understood; but to object to Christianity on this ground is to pave the way to universal scepticism; for if we are to believe only what we can comprehend, we must believe very little or nothing at all. An infidel believes in his own personal existence; but does he, can he comprehend that existence? But to be consistent with himself, he must abandon faith in his very being ere he can object to Christianity, because there are some things in it which he cannot comprehend. Mystery, therefore, is no valid objection, but rather a presumptive proof in its favour; for a religion which contains nothing but what can be fully comprehended cannot have the incomprehensible God for its author. Nor would such a religion bear any analogy to the operations of nature, to say nothing of the arrangements of Providence, which, in many instances, elude the research of the most philosophic and scientific mind. "Hence," said