I was much interested, while on board the Pittsburg, as I have often been before, in noticing the vast variety in human faces and features.

Go where you will, on board steamboats, into railroad-cars, public meetings, &c., where are found assemblages of from one hundred to one thousand—or even several thousand—persons, and survey narrowly every face; and will you find any two alike?

Examine, if you please, the faces of nearest relatives—brothers, sisters, parents, children, and even twins themselves—and though you may and sometimes will find a very striking similarity, yet you will, after all, find a difference in some one or more particulars. No two, in any assembly or company, look exactly alike.

Nay, more than all this. If you were to travel the world as much as I have done, and to see, in the course of half a century, several millions of people, you would find no two, anywhere, with features exactly alike. In the eight hundred millions which now inhabit our globe there is a shade of difference, such as would enable a careful eye to distinguish every one from all others.

And how is it with the mind that shines out in these varied faces? Is that as distinguishable on a close acquaintance as the exterior—the features? Is there any reason why it should not be? I am not quite certain it is so; but did not the great Creator intend it should be?

I do not mean to say, of course, that there are not some things alike in every face. So there are some things which must be expected to be alike in our mental formation.

Every one on board this steamboat—every one in the world—resembles his fellows in the general structure and aspect of his features. Every one looks forward and upward, and not downward like the beasts that perish. Every one has the projecting brow, with the well-defended eye under it, the more prominent nose and chin, &c.

So every one thinks highly of himself, his friends, possessions, home, &c. Every one, unless by divine grace made a true Christian, is more or less selfish. Every one loves, and, in his way, seeks happiness, and hates misery. "Who will show us any good?" is the almost universal cry. If people do not say it, in so many words, they do so by their actions.

It is an old maxim that actions speak louder than words; and it is of high, very high authority, that out of the abundance of the heart (or mind) the mouth speaketh.

It is not very difficult, therefore, to guess how the various minds on board this steamer are occupied. No one is talking about the wants, the ignorance, or the means of improving the condition of his neighbor. No one is talking, unless the thought is suggested by another, about the welfare of the great Jehovah's kingdom.

But I mean not quite so much. There are a few blessed exceptions to the apparent severity of this remark. For here, just by my side, sits a woman some fifty years of age or more, who has, for more than thirty years, cared for and thought of other people as well as herself.

She is the wife of Mr. Byington, a famous missionary to the Choctaw Indians. It is, I believe, nearly thirty years since she and her husband devoted themselves to the great work of trying to instruct and improve those poor people, and make Christians of them. Such a person will care for the good of others, and the honor of God, even on board a steamboat. Those who have been philanthropists and Christians as long as Mr. and Mrs. Byington, will not soon or easily forget their former habits and become selfish like the rest of the world.

I am greatly afraid that most persons who seem to be religious at home, forget their religion when they go abroad. Indeed, I have known many who were given to prayer, watchful over their tongues, mindful of the Sabbath, and self-denying at home, who were none of these when a thousand miles from home, or even half that distance.

True, we cannot always know whether people pray or not, when they are abroad, because most of what deserves the name of prayer is offered where no eye can reach but that of God. There is an opportunity for closet prayer everywhere; and it is quite possible that they who break the Sabbath, indulge their appetites, and do not bridle their tongues, sometimes pray. Still I must say that, judging as well as I can, the fear already expressed is but too well grounded.