no security for virtue. There is no telling what is in a boy's heart; he may look as open and happy as usual, and be as kind and as attentive, when there is a great deal wrong going on within. The heart is a secret with its Maker. No one on earth can hope to get at it, or to touch it. I have a cure of souls; what do I really know of my parishioners? Nothing; their hearts are sealed books to me. And this dear boy, he comes close to me; he throws his arms around me, but his soul is as much out of my sight as if he were at the antipodes. I am not accusing him of reserve, dear fellow; his very love and reverence for me keep him in a sort of charmed solitude. I cannot expect to get at the bottom of him.
'Each in his hidden sphere of bliss or woe,
Our hermit spirits dwell.'
It is our lot here below. No one on earth can know Charles's secret thoughts. Did I guard him here at home ever so well, yet, in due time, it might be found that a serpent had crept into the Eden of his innocence. Boys do not fully know what is good and what is evil; they do wrong things at first almost innocently. Novelty hides vice from them; there is no one to warn them or give them rules; and they become slaves of sin while they are learning what sin is."
Is not this a most pathetic confession of a great shortcoming of the Protestant system which renounces all inward government and direction of the soul? It leaves all to the private judgment of the individual. And yet, what a blessing for young people to have one to whom they can securely disclose "their secret thoughts." Then this friend of their souls can "warn them and give them rules." The evil will be dis-
