Transcriber's Note.

Apparent typographical errors have been corrected. The use of hyphens has been rationalised.

Engraved & Printed by Illman Brothers.

THE HOME CIRCLE.

The Golden Gems of Life.

OR,

S. C. FERGUSON
AND
E. A. ALLEN.

CENTRAL PUBLISHING HOUSE,
CINCINNATI.
1884

Preface

The design of this work is to rouse to honorable effort those who are wasting their time and energies through indifference to life's prizes. In the furtherance of this aim the authors have endeavored to gather from all possible sources the thoughts of those wise and earnest men and women who have used their pens to delineate life and its possibilities, its joys and its sorrows. They do not claim to have furnished more than the setting in which are placed these "Gems" of thought gathered thus from sources widely different.

Their hope is, that they may be able to rouse in the minds of the careless a sense of the value of existence. To those who are striving nobly for true manhood or womanhood, they would fain bring words of encouragement. They trust that many may derive from its pages inspirations which will serve to make real their hopes of success and happiness.

Cincinnati, January 1, 1880.

	Page
Life.
Life ill spent—Life's Real Value—A Triumph or a Defeat—Power over Life—What True Life Means—Prospective View of Life—The Journey Laborious—Man does not live for himself—Failure of Success—Possibilities of Life—Steady Aim Necessary—Life a Struggle—Duty of Right Living,	[21]
Home.
Thoughts of Home—We never forget Home—Power of Home Thoughts—Home Memories—Home the Fountain of Civilization—Influence of Home—Home Experiences—Home a Sensitive Place—Qualifications of Home—Home Affections—In what a Home consists—Home Happiness composed of Little Things—Home a Type of Heaven,	[29]
Home Circle.
Home Circle a Delightful Place—The Nursery of Affection—The Heart's Garden—Importance of Home Affections—Requisites of Home Love—Importance of Home Language and Habits—Home Circle the Center of Affection—Love an Important Element of Home Happiness—Children in Home Circle—Influence emanating from Home Circle—Home Circle soon broken,	[39]
Father and Mother.
Care of Parents for Children—Children should return Parents' Love—Dangers of Forgetfulness on Part of Children—Duty of writing to and visiting Parents—Children should try to make Parents Comfortable and Happy—The Love of Mother to Son—Son's Duty to a Mother—Loss of a Parent—The Grave of a Mother,	[47]
Infancy.
Infancy the Morning of Life—Parental Anxiety during Infancy—Parental Responsibility—Parental Duty—Influence of Infants—Infants the Poetry of the World—Infancy and Death—Graves of Infants,	[54]
Childhood.
Childhood the Happiest Time—Child's Soul without Character—Power of Imitation with Children—Children incited by Example—Praise of Children—Reproving Children—Parents' Duty to make Childhood Happy—Children the Ornament of Home—Fleeting Period of Childhood,	[60]
Brother and Sister.
Love between Brother and Sister Pleasing—Power of a Sister's Love—Depths of a Sister's Love—Love for a Sister a Noble Thing—Power of a Sister's Influence—Sister's Duty in this Respect—Each Necessary to the Other's Welfare—The Ideal Girl—The Ideal Boy,	[67]
Manhood.
Manhood the Isthmus between Two Extremes—Pursuits of Each Age—Early Manhood Potential for Good—Claims of Society on Young Men—Young Men's Duty in this Respect—Young Men should cultivate their Intellect—Thinking makes True Manhood,	[74]
Womanhood.
True Womanhood a Noble Thing—Error Women make—Womanly Power—Woman's Moral Influence—Source of Woman's Happiness—A Good Woman never grows old,	[80]
Home Harmonies.
An Important Theme—Parents' Duty to make Happy Homes—Influence of a Happy Home—In what a Happy Home consists—Business Man's Home—Pictures in a Home—Conversation at Home—Parents should study Children's Character,	[89]
Home Duties.
Duty ever at Hand—One Danger of Home Life—Children trained at Home—Home Language—Happiness of Children—The Domestic Seminary—Education of Children—Children's Duties to Parents,	[97]
Aim of Life.
An Aim Essential—Danger of an Aimless Life—Daily Need of Life—All can accomplish Something—All must labor—Choice of an Occupation—Must do your own deciding—A Second Profession—Manhood the Most Noble Aim,	[104]
Success or Failure.
All Desirous of Success—The Two Ends of Life—Success only won by Toil—Danger of overlooking this Fact—Earnestness the Secret of Success—Traits of Character Necessary to Success—All can accomplish Something—In what True Success consists,	[111]
Dignity of Labor.
Labor the Lot of All—Labor a Glory—Civilization the Result of Labor—Life necessarily Routine—Labor not an End of Life—Victories of Labor—All Honest Work Honorable,	[118]
Perseverance.
Value of Perseverance—One Man's Work Compared with the Total Amount—All Excellence the Result of Perseverance—Example of Gibbon—Results of Human Perseverance—Nature's Lesson—Perseverance and Genius,	[125]
Enterprise.
Enterprise distinct from Energy—Seeks for Novelty—Necessity for Enterprise—Enterprise an Inheritance—Value of Self-reliance—Demands of the Hour,	[132]
Energy.
Energy is Force of Character—Resolution and Energy—Energy and Wisdom—Man's Duty—Value of Energy—Success the Result of Energy,	[138]
Punctuality.
Value of Punctuality—Punctuality a Positive Virtue—Punctuality the Life of the Universe—The Value of Time—Punctuality gives Force to Character,	[145]
Concentration.
Necessity of Concentration—Must concentrate Energy for Success—Evil of Dissipation—Concentration not One-sidedness—You must pay the Price of Success,	[151]
Decision.
Quality of Decision—Necessity of Decision—Courageous Action necessary—Foster's Remarks on Decision—Unhappy Results of Indecision—Decision of Character a Necessity of the Present Age—Decision not Undue Haste,	[159]
Self-Confidence.
Value of Self-confidence—Difficulties a Positive Blessing—Reliance on Good Name—Great Men have been Self-reliant—We admire Self-reliant men,	[166]
Practical Talents.
What is meant by Practical Talents—Difference between Practical and Speculative Ability—Knowledge of Men Indispensable—Intellectual Knowledge—Education—Perfect Knowledge of Few Things,	[172]
Education.
Value of Intellect—Education a Development—Education covers the Whole of Life—Education Right or Wrong—A Just Appreciation of Wisdom—Importance of Exact Knowledge,	[179]
Mental Training.
Necessity of Mental Culture—Power of Trained Intellect—Mental Training Pleasant and within Reach of All—Importance of Reading—Train the Judgment—Thought,	[187]
Self-Culture.
In what Self-culture consists—Necessity of Physical Culture—Necessity of Mental Culture—Educating Influence of Every-day Life—Moral Culture—Self-culture ever pressing its Claims,	[194]
Literature.
Influence of Literature—Literature and Encouragement—Consolation of Literature—Literature the Soul of Action—How to choose Books—Influence of Reading on Personal Character—Power of the Press,	[201]
Mental Power.
Intellectual Triumphs—How shown—What Necessary for its Attainment—Best Results obtained by training All the Faculties—Obtained by Years of Exertion,	[207]
Choice of Companions.
Influence of Associates—Character shown by the Company you keep—No One can afford to associate with Bad Company—Power of Bad Associates to debase you—Persons whom Society has most to fear—Why Evil Associates debase us—Influence of Good Company—Rank in Society determined by Choice of Companions,	[211]
Friends.
Value of Friendship—Language of Friendship a Varied One—All need Friends—Test of Friendship—Friendship a Tender Sentiment—Poverty a Test of Friendship—Death of a Friendship—Old Friends,	[217]
Power of Custom.
Power of Custom—Likes and Dislikes—Creatures of Custom—Habit man's Best Friend or Worst Enemy—How Habits grow—Evil Habits must be conquered—Importance of Good Habits—How to form Good Habits,	[223]
Influence.
Nature of Influence—Influence Immortal—Solemn Thought—Every Thing exerts Influence—Examples from Nature—Influence of Great Men—Your Influence for Good or for Evil—Influence of Human Actions—Duty of exerting a Good Influence—Responsibility for our Influence,	[229]
Character.
Character a Great Motive Power—Value of Good Character—Character is Power—Difference between Character and Reputation—Character of Slow Growth—Character our Own—Character always acting—Character a Grand Thing,	[237]
Prudence.
Value of Prudence—Difficulty of defining Prudence—The Tongue of Prudence,	[244]
Temperance.
Beauty of Temperance—Danger of Impulse—Temperance and Health—Temperance dwells in the Heart—Temperance consists in Self-Control—Must be Temperate to make the Most of Life,	[247]
Frugality.
In what Frugality consists—Frugality and Liberality—Frugality necessary to Acquisition of Wealth—The Danger of going beyond the Income—Influence of Economy on the Other Emotions,	[252]
Patience.
Patience the Ballast of the Soul—Necessity of Patience—Examples of Eminent Men—Patience an Element of Home Happiness,	[259]
Self-Control.
Self-control a Form of Courage—Importance of Mental Faculties—Government and Progress—Composure Highest Form of Power—Strong Temper not always a Bad One—Man born for Dominion,	[264]
Courage.
In what Courage consists—Courage not confined to the Battlefield—Occasion for Courage in Domestic Life—Courage of Endurance for Conscience's Sake,	[270]
Charity.
Charity like Dew from Heaven—Charity a Lovable Trait—The Spirit of Charity always doing Good—Universal Charity—Death and Charity,	[275]
Kindness.
Kindness the Music of Good-will—Kindness makes Sunshine—Should never feel ashamed of Kindness—Kindness not necessarily shown in Gifts—Kindness shown in Little Things—Influence of Unnoticed Kindness—Showing Kindness a Noble Revenge—Kind Words and their influence,	[280]
Benevolence.
Doing Good a Happy Act—No Excess of Good Deeds—Benevolence necessary to a Perfect Life—Liberality not Profuseness—Benevolence during Life,	[286]
Veracity.
Truth always Consistent—Falsehood Perplexing—Strict Veracity has regard to Looks and Actions—Lying a Cowardly Trait—Danger of too close Adherence to Truth due to Lack of Caution,	[292]
Honor.
Honor a Glorious Trait of Character—Honor shown in Little Acts—Honor and Virtue not the Same,	[296]
Policy.
Policy of the Nature of Cunning—Extent of this Principle—A Characteristic Trait of the Age—Policy not Prudence or Caution—Policy not Discretion—Danger of judging from Appearance,	[299]
Egotism.
Egotism a Disagreeable Trait—Egotism, how shown—Why We dislike Egotism in Others—Danger of Self-love—The True Line between Egotism and Self-conceit,	[303]
Vanity.
Vanity requires Skill in the Management—Danger of Love of Applause—Vanity attacks Every Thing—Deception of Vanity—Vanity not wholly Bad—Vanity ever present,	[307]
Selfishness.
Nature of Selfishness—Selfishness destructive of Happiness—Selfishness a Narrow Quality—Selfishness contracts the Mind—Selfishness shows itself in Many Ways—Last Hours of a Selfish Life,	[311]
Obstinacy.
Obstinacy a Trait of Low Minds—Peculiar Property of Obstinacy—Obstinacy a Barrier to Improvement—Obstinacy not Firmness—Necessity of sometimes yielding—Be not in a Hurry to change Opinion,	[315]
Slander.
Nature of Calumny—Slander never tired—Slander loved only by the Base—Slander can not injure a Good Man—Slander easily started—Your Own Character shown in describing Another's—Speak kindly of the Absent,	[319]
Irritability.
Irritability an Unpleasant Quality—The Source of Envy and Discontent—Sin of fretting—Fretting easy to indulge—Evidence of a Moral Weakness—Evidence of Littleness of Soul,	[324]
Envy.
Envy Born of Pride—Envy a Foolish Trait—Envy destroys One's Own Happiness—Envy seeks to pull down Others—Envy Cruel in pursuit—Envy grows in All Hearts,	[328]
Discontent.
A Discontented Man wretched—Discontent at Times wicked—Universality of Discontent—Contentment Felicity—Duty to enjoy God's Blessing—Contentment abides with Little Things—Contentment not Supine Satisfaction—Folly of Discontent,	[332]
Deception.
Deceit an Obstacle to Happiness—Deceit in Friendship Most Detestable—Deceit Inimical to Society—Deception and Hypocrisy—Deception assumes Many Forms,	[338]
Intermeddling.
A Busybody disliked by All—Allied to Envy and Slander—The Source of Many Troubles—Mischief wrought by an Intermeddler—Beware of Curiosity—A Meddler not moved by the Spirit of Charity,	[342]
Anger.
Anger an Impotent Quality—Anger unmans a Man—Fit Occasions for Indignation—Anger always Terrible or Ridiculous—Strong Temper not of Necessity a Bad One,	[346]
Ambition.
Ambition a Deceptive Quality—Ambition fatal to Happiness—Ambition fatal to Friendship—Ambition a Shadowy Quality—Ambition not Aspiration—Ambition an Excessive Quality—Ambitious of True Honor a Grand Thing,	[350]
Politeness.
Importance of Politeness—Manner influences Worldly Opinion—Fascinating Manners not Politeness—Politeness does not depend on National Peculiarities—Politeness is Kindness—Description of a Gentleman—Politeness comes of Sincerity—Politeness a Noble Trait of Character—Business Value of Politeness—Good Manners can not be laid aside,	[354]
Sociability.
Mutual Intercourse necessary to Happiness—Society the Balm of Life—Duty of doing Something for Society—All Social Duties Reciprocal—Society the Spirit of Life—Anomalies of Society explained—Happy Influence of Society,	[361]
Dignity.
Dignity defined—Dignity not Dependent on Place—Dignity the Ennobling Quality of Politeness—Three Kinds of Dignity—Dignity not Conceit—Dignity not Hauteur and Pride,	[367]
Affability.
Affability an Ornament—Affability of Value—Why Affability promotes Success—Not well enough acquainted with Each Other—Duty of cultivating Affability—Whom to be Affable with,	[371]
The Toilet.
Dress denotes the Man—Duty of Dressing—Love of Beauty right—Mental Qualities shown by the Toilet—Beauty of Simplicity—The Style of Dress—Dress need not be Costly—Dress of a Gentleman—Dandies Ridiculous,	[375]
Gentleness.
Gentleness a Pleasing Quality—We do not sufficiently value Gentleness—Power of Gentleness—Gentleness belongs to Virtue—Great Power always Gentle in Expression—Power in Gentle Words—Foundation of True Gentleness,	[382]
Modesty.
Modesty a Mark of Wisdom—Modesty a Beautiful Setting to Talents—All Great Events complete themselves in Silence—Modesty not Bashfulness—Modesty Different from Reserve—Modesty Crowning Ornament of Woman,	[387]
Love.
Love a Ruling Element—Love a Need of the Heart—Power of Love—Love a Proof of Moral Excellence—Love elevates Life—Duty to study the Nature of Love—Love founded on Esteem and Respect—Love Dependent on Etiquette—Woman's Love Stronger than Man's—Love purifies the Heart,	[391]
Courtship.
Importance of the Question—Mistaken Notions as to Time—Courtship and Wedded Love—Happiness Dependent on Love—All Jest out of Place—Duty of Careful Thought on Courtship—Marriage should be made a Study—Courtship a Voyage of Discovery—The True Companion must be sought for—A Critical Point in a Woman's Life—Must be an Equal—Courtship Beautiful,	[400]
Marriage.
Marriage a Solemn Spectacle—Human Happiness ever accompanied by Sorrow—Loving Trust of Woman—Importance of the Act—Marriage the Entrance to a New World—Influence of a Wife's Moral Character—Discipline of the Affections—Marriage a Necessity—Marriage should be made a Study—Why Disappointments arise—Marriage a Real and Earnest Affair,	[408]
Single Life.
Marriage universally expected—Happiness of Single Life—Matrimony brings Cares as well as Joys—Marriage not the Chief End of Life—Marriage the More Preferable State—Jeremy Taylor's Contrast of the Two States—Early Marriages Injudicious—Why Some remain Single,	[416]
Married Life.
Marriage the Bond of Social Order—Influence of a Good Wife—Nature of the Marriage Tie—Gold can not purchase Love—Unhappy Marriages—Human to see the Good Side of Things past—Happiness found in consulting the Happiness of Others—Elevating Influence of Marriage,	[422]
Duties of Married Life.
Duty of Married Life can not be shaken off—Marriage does not change human Nature—Love not the Only Requisite of Domestic Felicity—Chance to make or mar Life—Danger from Familiarity—Patience demanded—Must expect Imperfections—Must seek the Happiness of Others—Duty of forgetting Self,	[429]
Trials of Married Life.
Trials to be expected—Death of Wedded Love—Daily Life the Test of Married Love—Domestic Happiness reached through Trials—Must learn to bear with the Faults of Each Other—Imperfections of Character make the Strongest Claims on our Love—Many Trials arise from Mistaken Notions as to Economy—Necessity of having a Home,	[436]
Husband and Wife.
True Marriage the Growth of Years—There must be a Mutual Self-sacrifice—Keep Faults to yourself—Constant Tenderness and Care necessary—Proofs of Affection should be granted—Duty of Husbands—Duty of Wives—Man desires Woman's Sympathy and Love—Wives should consult Husbands' Taste,	[443]
Jealousy.
Baseness of this Passion—Distinction between Jealousy and Envy—Jealousy preferable to Envy—Jealousy assumes Many Forms—No One willing to Acknowledge Jealousy—Jealousy a Deadly Thing—Suspicion an Enemy to Happiness,	[449]
Regret.
Regret a Sad Word—All have felt it—The Profoundest Sorrows self-wrought—Death an Occasion of Much Regret—Shadowed Lives—How to escape regret,	[454]
Memory.
Memory the Noblest Gift of Providence—Memory the Golden Cord—Treasure of a Good Memory—Memory of Past Days—Slight Things suffice to recall Past Memories—The Reminiscences of Youth—Memory sometimes Painful—Memory crowds Years into Moments,	[458]
Hope.
Hope accomplishes All Things—Moderate Hope Helpful—Sustaining Power of Hope—Should only hope for Probable Things—Hope ever with us—Hope lives in the Future—The Morality of Hope—A True Hope ever Present—Hopes and Fears—Rise above Trouble,	[465]
Prosperity.
Prosperity the Test of Character—A Degree of Prosperity to be reasonably hoped for—Continuous Prosperity not a Good Thing—How to prosper—Prosperity and Happiness not Identical—Early Adversity the Foundation of Future Prosperity—Hardships a Good Thing,	[472]
Trifles.
Details Important—Trifles make Success—No Such Thing as Trifles in Life—Trifles make the Difference between First and Second Class Work—Unhappiness of Life caused by Trifles—Trifles make an Influence,	[477]
Leisure.
Spare Moments the Gold-dust of Time—Time our Estate—What can be done in Leisure Time—Busiest Persons have always the Most Time—Time can not be recalled—Effort required to employ Time Rightly—Death teaches the Value of Time,	[482]
Happiness.
Happiness the Principal Thing—Deceitfulness of Happiness—Happiness like To-morrow—Wealth and Fame not Necessary to Happiness—Can not control our Outward Surroundings—Circumstances not essential to Happiness—Disposition to enjoy Life what is wanted—Enjoy Present Surroundings—Content is Happiness—Must seek for Happiness in the Right Way,	[488]
True Nobility.
True Nobility often counterfeited—Man not rated by his Possessions—Greatness often Obscure—Some Great in Evil—Influence of Noble Principles—True Nobility Modest in Expression—Nobility of Character Reverential—True Nobility within Reach of All,	[494]
A Good Name.
A Good Name the Richest Possession—Based on Permanent Excellence—The Result of Individual Exertion—Influence of Youth on Life—Rewards of possessing a Good Name—Evil of being devoid of it,	[501]
Meditation.
Meditation the Soul's Perspective Glass—Must learn to subdue the Impulses—Meditation the Counselor of the Mental Powers—Guard against Impure Thoughts—Duty of Thinking,	[507]
Principles.
Principles the Springs of our Actions—Danger of Loose Principles—Good Principles ever acting—False Principles,	[512]
Opportunity.
Must Rightly use Small Opportunities—Opportunity and Ability—All have a Few Opportunities—Must not wait for Opportunity,	[516]
Duty.
Duty ever Present with us—Duty based on Justice—We must will to do our Duty—Duty and Might—Duty does not fear Censure,	[520]
Trials.
Life Full of Trials—Joy and Sorrow near together—Trials sent for our Good—Wisdom won by Trials—Man like a Sword—Never meet Trouble Half Way—Sorrow should remind us of God,	[524]
Sickness.
Sickness draws us near to God—Sickness softens the Heart—Sickness renders us All Equals—The Blessings of Sickness—Sickness and Health—Discipline of a Sick-bed,	[529]
Sorrow.
Sorrows gather around Great Souls—Sorrows make the Mind Genial—Life abounds in Sorrowful Scenes—Sorrow the Noblest of Discipline—Christianity a Religion of Sorrow—Suffering must be patiently submitted to—Sorrow sometimes too Sacred to be spoken of—Must not give way to Causeless Sorrow,	[532]
Poverty.
Poverty a Valued Discipline—Evils of Poverty Imaginary—Genius a Gift of Poverty—The Advantages of struggling with Poverty—Poverty the Test of Civility—Real Wants of Mankind but Few—Misfortune of beginning Life Rich—Poverty of the Mind Most Deplorable,	[539]
Affliction.
The Elasticity of the Human Mind—Affliction a School of Virtue—Adversity the Touchstone of Character—The Uncertainty of Human Life—Suffering Divinely appointed—Thought when Death comes,	[545]
Disappointments.
Disappointments Divinely appointed—Disappointments the Lot of Man—Shadowed Lives—Many disappointed because they do not look for Happiness in the Right Way—Must meet Disappointments Bravely—Must be accepted with Resignation—Disappointments sometimes arise from Undue Expectations—Time disappoints our Cherished plans—Life a Variegated Scene,	[552]
Failure.
Ultimate Success attained through Present Failure—Failures for our Own Good—The True Hero perseveres in Spite of Failure—Do not give Way to Despair—No One succeeds in All his Undertakings—Many ruined by Early Success—How to view Past Mistakes—Sorrows of Mankind traced to Blighted Hopes—The Brave-hearted Man rises Superior to Present Difficulties,	[557]
Despondency.
Dark Hours as well as Bright Ones—Dire Effects of Despair—Influence of Hope—Duty of resisting Despondency—Despondency a Failure of Duty—To give Way to Despair not Manly—Lesson from Nature—Causeless Depression of Spirits—Human Nature to see the Dark Side,	[565]
Faith.
Faith the Prophet of the Soul—Faith a Necessity—Faith a Reasonable Thing—Faith ever with us—Difference between Morality and Faith—Faith expands the Intellect—Must not judge the Outward Manifestations of Faith—Faith and Works,	[570]
Worship.
Necessity of Prayer—Prayer arises from the Heart—Prayer and Outward Action—Prayer the Password to Heaven—Family Worship—Necessity of Daily Worship—Family Prayers knit together the Home—We often pray Improperly—What God looketh at in Prayers—The Lord's Prayer,	[575]
Religion.
Religion binds Man to God—True Religion a Noble Thing—Effect of Religion—Religion Full of Joys—Religion a Natural Thing—Religion not established by Reason—Sorrow for Sin—Three Modes of bearing Ills of Life—Surrounded by Motives to Religion—Religion a Refining Influence—Religion teaches the Dignity of Common Life—Religion enforces the doing of Common Duties,	[581]
God in Nature.
"The Heavens proclaim the Glory of God"—The Gospel written on Nature—Distinguishing Features of God's Works—Study of Nature leads to True Religion—Plan running through Nature's Works—Wondrous Natural Scenes conduce to a Proper View of God,	[588]
The Bible.
Eulogy of the Bible—The Bible the Oldest Monument Extant—The Bible Adapted to Every Condition—The Bible the Foundation of our Religious Faith—The Bible our Constant Attendant—The Bible a Tried Book—The Scriptures Adapted to All Times of Life—The Bible gives us a Sure Foundation to stand upon,	[592]
Future Life.
Importance of this Question—Changes of the Seasons proving Future Life—Men at All Times have pondered the Question of Death—Tenable Ground for the Hope of Future Life—Visions on Death-beds,	[596]
Time and Eternity.
Insignificance of Man as compared to Eternity—The Hour-glass Emblematical of the World—The Closing Year of our Life—Transitory Period of Human Life—The Vanities and Contentions of Life viewed from the Stand-point of Eternity,	[599]
The Evening of Life.
The Beauty of Age—Different Ages of Life contrasted—In the Realities of Life we lose Sight of the Dreams of Youth—Age should present the Grandest Thoughts—Age has no Terror to those who see it near—The True Man does not wish to be a Child again—Death the Transition Stage to a More Glorious and Perfect Life—In Death we are All Equal—Should Cultivate Cheerful Thoughts about Death—Poem on Death,	[602]

Life

We can conceive of no spectacle better calculated to lead the mind to serious reflections than that of an aged person, who has misspent a long life, and who, when standing near the end of life's journey, looks down the long vista of his years, only to recall opportunities unimproved. Now that it is all too late, he can plainly see where he passed by in heedless haste the real "gems of life" in pursuit of the glittering gewgaws of pleasure, but which, when gained, like the apples of Sodom, turned to ashes in his very grasp. What a different course would he pursue would time but turn backwards in his flight and he be allowed to commence anew to weave the "tangled web of life." But this is not vouchsafed him. Regrets are useless, save when they awaken in the minds of youth a wish to avoid errors and a desire to gather only the true "jewels of life."

Life, with its thousand voices wailing and exulting, reproving and exalting, is calling upon you. Arouse, and gird yourself for the race. Up and onward, and

"Waking,

Be awake to sleep no more."

Not alone by its ultimate destiny, but by its immediate obligations, uses, enjoyment, and advantages, must be estimated the infinite and untold value of life. It is a great mission on which you are sent. It is the choicest gift in the bounty of heaven committed to your wise and diligent keeping, and is associated with countless benefits and priceless boons which heaven alone has power to bestow. But, alas! its possibilities for woe are equal to those of weal.

It is a crowning triumph or a disastrous defeat, garlands or chains, a prison or a prize. We need the eloquence of Ulysses to plead in our behalf, the arrows of Hercules to do battle on our side. It is of the utmost importance to you to make the journey of life a successful one. To do so you must begin with right ideas. If you are mistaken in your present estimates it is best to be undeceived at the first, even though it cast a shadow on your brow. It is true, that life is not mean, but it is grand. It is also a real and earnest thing. It has homely details, painful passages, and a crown of care for every brow.

We seek to inspire you with a wish and a will to meet it with a brave spirit. We seek to point you to its nobler meanings and its higher results. The tinsel with which your imagination has invested it will all fall off of itself so soon as you have fairly entered on its experience. So we say to you, take up life's duties now, learn something of what life is before you take upon yourself its great responsibilities.

Great destinies lie shrouded in your swiftly passing hours; great responsibilities stand in the passages of every-day life; great dangers lie hidden in the by-paths of life's great highway; great uncertainty hangs over your future history. God has given you existence, with full power and opportunity to improve it and be happy; he has given you equal power to despise the gift and be wretched; which you will do is the great problem to be solved by your choice and conduct. Your bliss or misery in two worlds hangs pivoted in the balance.

With God and a wish to do right in human life it becomes essentially a noble and beautiful thing. Every youth should form at the outset of his career the solemn purpose to make the most and the best of the powers which God has given him, and to turn to the best possible account every outward advantage within his reach. This purpose must carry with it the assent of the reason, the approval of the conscience, the sober judgment of the intellect. It should thus embody within itself whatever is vehement in desire, inspiring in hope, thrilling in enthusiasm, and intense in desperate resolve. To live a life with such a purpose is a peerless privilege, no matter at what cost of transient pain or unremitting toil.

It is a thing above professions, callings, and creeds. It is a thing which brings to its nourishment all good, and appropriates to its development of power all evil. It is the greatest and best thing under the whole heavens. Place can not enhance its honor; wealth can not add to its value. Its course lies through true manhood and womanhood; through true fatherhood and motherhood; through true friendship and relationship of all legitimate kinds—of all natural sorts whatever. It lies through sorrow and pain and poverty and all earthly discipline. It lies through unswerving trust in God and man. It lies through patient and self-denying heroism. It lies through all heaven prescribed and conscientious duty; and it leads as straight to heaven's brightest gate as the path of a sunbeam leads to the bosom of a flower.

Many of you to-day are just starting on the duties of active life. The volume of the future lies unopened before you. Its covers are illuminated by the pictures of fancy, and its edges are gleaming with the golden tints of hope. Vainly you strive to loosen its wondrous clasp; 'tis a task which none but the hand of Time can accomplish. Life is before you—not earthly life alone, but life; a thread running interminably through the warp of eternity. It is a sweet as well as a great and wondrous thing. Man may make life what he pleases and give it as much worth, both for himself and others, as he has energy for.

The journey is a laborious one, and you must not expect to find the road all smooth. And whether rich or poor, high or low, you will be disappointed if you build on any other foundation. Take life like a man; take it just as though it was as it is—an earnest, vital, essential affair. Take it just as though you personally were born to the task of performing a merry part in it—as though the world had waited for your coming. Live for something, and for something worthy of life and its capabilities and opportunities, for noble deeds and achievements. Every man and every woman has his or her assignments in the duties and responsibilities of daily life. We are in the world to make the world better, to lift it up to higher levels of enjoyment and progress, to make the hearts and homes brighter and happier by devoting to our fellows our best thoughts, activities, and influences.

It is the motto of every true heart and the genius of every noble life that no man liveth to himself—lives chiefly for his own selfish good. It is a law of our intellectual and moral being that we promote our own real happiness in the exact proportions we contribute to the comfort and happiness of others. Nothing worthy the name of happiness is the experience of those who live only for themselves, all oblivious to the welfare of their fellows. That only is the true philosophy which recognizes and works out the principle in daily life that—

"Life was lent for noble deeds."

Life embraces in its comprehensiveness a just return of failure and success as the result of individual perseverance and labor. Live for something definite and practical; take hold of things with a will, and they will yield to you and become the ministers of your own happiness and that of others. Nothing within the realm of the possible can withstand the man or woman who is intelligently bent on success. Every person carries within the key that unlocks either door of success or failure. Which shall it be? All desire success; the problem of life is its winning.

Strength, bravery, dexterity, and unfaltering nerve and resolution must be the portion and attribute of those who resolve to pursue fortune along the rugged road of life. Their path will often lie amid rocks and crags, and not on lawns and among lilies. A great action is always preceded by a great purpose. History and daily life are full of examples to show us that the measure of human achievements has always been proportional to the amount of human daring and doing. Deal with questions and facts of life as they really are. What can be done, and is worth doing, do with dispatch; what can not be done, or would be worthless when done, leave for the idlers and dreamers along life's highway.

Life often presents us with a choice of evils instead of good; and if any one would get through life honorably and peacefully he must learn to bear as well as forbear, to hold the temper in subjection to the judgment, and to practice self-denial in small as well as great things. Human life is a watch-tower. It is the clear purpose of God that every one—the young especially—should take their stand on this tower, to look, listen, learn, wherever they go and wherever they tarry. Life is short, and yet for you it may be long enough to lose your character, your constitution, or your estate; or, on the other hand, by diligence you can accomplish much within its limits.

If the sculptor's chisel can make impressions on marble in a few hours which distant eyes shall read and admire, if the man of genius can create work in life that shall speak the triumph of mind a thousand years hence, then may true men and women, alive to the duty and obligations of existence, do infinitely more. Working on human hearts and destinies, it is their prerogative to do imperishable work, to build within life's fleeting hours monuments that shall last forever. If such grand possibilities lie within the reach of our personal actions in the world how important that we live for something every hour of our existence, and for something that is harmonious with the dignity of our present being and the grandeur of our future destiny!

A steady aim, with a strong arm, willing hands, and a resolute will, are the necessary requisites to the conflict which begins anew each day and writes upon the scroll of yesterday the actions that form one mighty column wherefrom true worth is estimated. One day's work left undone causes a break in the great chain that years of toil may not be able to repair. Yesterday was ours, but it is gone; today is all we possess, for to-morrow we may never see; therefore, in the golden hour of the present the seeds are planted whereby the harvest for good or evil is to be reaped.

To endure with cheerfulness, hoping for little, asking for much, is, perhaps, the true plan. Decide at once upon a noble purpose, then take it up bravely, bear it off joyfully, lay it down triumphantly. Be industrious, be frugal, be honest, deal with kindness with all who come in your way, and if you do not prosper as rapidly as you would wish depend upon it you will be happy.

The web of life is drawn into the loom for us, but we weave it ourselves. We throw our own shuttle and work our own treadle. The warp is given us, but the woof we furnish—find our own materials, and color and figure it to suit ourselves. Every man is the architect of his own house, his own temple of fame. If he builds one great, glorious, and honorable, the merit and the bliss are his; if he rears a polluted, unsightly, vice-haunted den, to himself the shame and misery belongs.

Life is often but a bitter struggle from first to last with many who wear smiling faces and are ever ready with a cheerful word, when there is scarcely a shred left of the hopes and opportunities which for years promised happiness and content. But it is human still to strive and yearn and grope for some unknown good that shall send all unrest and troubles to the winds and settle down over one's life with a halo of peace and satisfaction. The rainbow of hope is always visible in the future. Life is like a winding lane—on either side bright flowers and tempting fruits, which we scarcely pause to admire or taste, so eager are we to pass to an opening in the distance, which we imagine will be more beautiful; but, alas! we find we have only hastened by these tempting scenes to arrive at a desert waste.

We creep into childhood, bound into youth, sober into manhood, and totter into old age. But through all let us so live that when in the evening of life the golden clouds rest sweetly and invitingly upon the golden mountains, and the light of heaven streams down through the gathering mists of death, we may have a peaceful and joyous entrance into that world of blessedness, where the great riddle of life, whose meaning we can only guess at here below, will be unfolded to us in the quick consciousness of a soul redeemed and purified.

Home

"Home is the resort

Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where,

Supporting and supported, polished friends

And dear relations mingle into bliss."

Home! That word touches every fiber of the soul, and strikes every chord of the human heart with its angelic fingers. Nothing but death can break its spell. What tender associations are linked with home! What pleasing images and deep emotions it awakens! It calls up the fondest memories of life, and opens in our nature the purest, deepest, richest gush of consecrated thought and feeling.

To the little child, home is his world—he knows no other. The father's love, the mother's smile, the sister's embrace, the brother's welcome, throw about his home a heavenly halo, and make it as attractive to him as the home of angels. Home is the spot where the child pours out all his complaint, and it is the grave of all his sorrows. Childhood has its sorrows and its grievances; but home is the place where these are soothed and banished by the sweet lullaby of a fond mother's voice.

Ask the man of mature years, whose brow is furrowed by care, whose mind is engrossed in business,—ask him what is home. He will tell you: "It is a place of rest, a haven of content, where loved ones relieve him of the burden of every-day life, too heavy to be continuously borne, from whence, refreshed and invigorated, he goes forth to do battle again."

Ask the lone wanderer as he plods his weary way, bent with the weight of years and white with the frosts of age,—ask him what is home. He will tell you: "It is a green spot in memory, an oasis in the desert, a center about which the fondest recollection of his grief-oppressed heart clings with all the tenacity of youth's first love. It was once a glorious, a happy reality; but now it rests only as an image of the mind."

Wherever the heart wanders it carries the thought of home with it. Wherever by the rivers of Babylon the heart feels its loss and loneliness, it hangs its harp upon the willows, and weeps. It prefers home to its chief joy. It will never forget it; for there swelled its first throb, there were developed its first affections. There a mother's eye looked into it, there a father's prayer blessed it, there the love of parents and brothers and sisters gave it precious entertainment. There bubbled up, from unseen fountains, life's first effervescing hopes. There life took form and consistence. From that center went out all its young ambition. Towards that focus return its concentrating memories. There it took form and fitted itself to loving natures; and it will carry that impress wherever it may go, unless it becomes polluted by sin or makes to itself another home sanctified by a new and more precious affection.

There is one vision that never fades from the soul, and that is the vision of mother and of home. No man in all his weary wanderings ever goes out beyond the overshadowing arch of home. Let him stand on the surf-beaten coast of the Atlantic, or roam over western wilds, and every dash of the wave or murmur of the breeze will whisper home, sweet home! Let him down amid the glaciers of the north, and even there thoughts of home, too warm to be chilled by the eternal frosts, will float in upon him. Let him rove through the green, waving groves and over the sunny slopes of the south, and in the smile of the soft skies, and in the kiss of the balmy breeze, home will live again. Let prosperity reward his every exertion, and wealth and affluence bring round him all the luxury of the earth, yet in his marble palace will rise unforbidden the vision of his childhood's home. Let misfortune overtake him; let poverty be his portion, and hunger press him; still in troubled dreams will his thoughts revert to his olden home.

If you wanted to gather up all tender memories, all lights and shadows of the heart, all banquetings and reunions, all filial, fraternal, paternal, conjugal affections, and had only just four letters to spell out all height and depth, and length and breadth, and magnitude and eternity of meaning, you would write it all out with the four letters that spell Home.

What beautiful and tender associations cluster thick around that word! Compared with it, wealth, mansion, palace, are cold, heartless terms. But home,—that word quickens every pulse, warms the heart, stirs the soul to its depths, makes age feel young again, rouses apathy into energy, sustains the sailor in his midnight watch, inspires the soldier with courage on the field of battle, and imparts patient endurance to the worn-out sons of toil.

The thought of it has proved a sevenfold shield to virtue; the very name of it has a spell to call back the wanderer from the path of vice; and, far away where myrtles bloom and palm-trees wave, and the ocean sleeps upon coral strands, to the exile's fond fancy it clothes the naked rock, or stormy shore, or barren moor, or wild height and mountain, with charms he weeps to think of, and longs once more to see.

Every home should be as a city set on a hill, that can not be hid. Into it should flock friends and friendship, bringing the light of the world, the stimulus and the modifying power of contact with various natures, the fresh flowers of feeling gathered from wide fields. Out of it should flow benign charities, pleasant amenities, and all those influences which are the natural offspring of a high and harmonious home-life.

The home is the fountain of civilization. Our laws are made in the home. The things said there give bias to character far more than do sermons and lectures, newspapers and books. No other audience are so susceptible and receptive as those gathered about the table and fireside; no other teachers have the acknowledged and divine right to instruct that is granted without challenge to parents. The foundation of our national life is under their hand. They can make it send forth waters bitter or sweet, for the death or the healing of the people.

The influences of home perpetuate themselves. The gentle graces of the mother live in the daughter long after her head is pillowed in the dust of death; and the fatherly kindness finds its echoes in the nobility and character of sons who come to wear his mantle and fill his place. While, on the other hand, from an unhappy, misgoverned, and ill-ordered home, go forth persons who shall make other homes miserable, and perpetuate the sorrows and sadness, the contentions and strifes, which have made their own early lives miserable. In every proper sense in which home can be considered, it is a powerful stimulant to noble actions and a high and pure morality. So valuable is this love of home that every man should cherish it as the apple of his eye. As he values his own moral worth, as he prizes his country, the peace and happiness of the world; yea, more, as he values the immortal interests of man, he should cherish and cultivate a strong and abiding love of home.

Home has voices of experience and hearts of genuine holy love, to instruct you in the way of life, and to save you from a sense of loneliness as you gradually discover the selfishness of mankind. Home has its trials, in which are imaged forth the stern struggles of your after years, that your character may gain strength and manifestation, for which purpose they are necessary; they open the portals of his heart, that the jewels otherwise concealed in its hidden depths may shine forth and shed their luster on the world. Home has its duties, to teach you how to act on your own responsibilities. Home gradually and greatly increases its burdens, so that you may acquire strength to endure without being overtasked. Home is a little world, in which the duties of the great world are daily rehearsed.

He who has no home has not the sweetest pleasures of life. He feels not the thousand endearments that cluster around that hallowed spot, to fill the void of his aching heart, and while away his leisure moments in the sweetest of life's enjoyments. Is misfortune your lot, you will find a friendly welcome from hearts beating true to your own. The chosen partner of your toil has a smile of approbation when others have deserted you, a hand of hope when all others refuse, and a heart to feel your sorrows as her own. No matter how humble that home may be, how destitute its stores, or how poorly its inmates may be clad, if true hearts dwell there, it is still a home.

Of all places on earth, home is the most delicate and sensitive. Its springs of action are subtle and secret. Its chords move with a breath. Its fires are kindled with a spark. Its flowers are bruised with the least rudeness. The influences of our homes strike so directly on our hearts that they make sharp impressions. In our intercourse with the world we are barricaded, and the arrows let fly at our hearts are warded off; but not so with us at home. Here our hearts wear no covering, no armor. Every arrow strikes them; every cold wind blows full upon them; every storm beats against them. What, in the world, we would pass by in sport, in our homes would wound us to the quick. Very little can we bear at home, for it is a sensitive place.

If we would have a true home, we must guard well our thoughts and actions. A single bitter word may disquiet the home for a whole day; but, like unexpected flowers which spring up along our path full of freshness, fragrance, and beauty, so do kind words and gentle acts and sweet disposition make glad the home where peace and blessing dwell. No matter how humble the abode, if it be thus garnished with grace and sweetened by kindness and smiles, the heart will turn lovingly towards it from all the tumults of the world, and home, "be it ever so humble," will be the dearest spot under the sun.

There is no happiness in life, there is no misery, like that growing out of the disposition which consecrates or desecrates a home. "He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace at home." Home should be made so truly home that the weary, tempted heart could turn towards it anywhere on the dusty highways of life, and receive light and strength. It should be the sacred refuge of our lives, whether rich or poor.

The affections and loves of home are graceful things, especially among the poor. The ties that bind the wealthy and proud to home may be forged on earth, but those which link the poor man to his humble hearth are of the true metal, and bear the stamp of heaven. These affections and loves constitute the poetry of human life, and so far as our present existence is concerned, with all the domestic relations, are worth more than all other social ties. They give the first throb to the heart, and unseal the deep fountains of its love. Homes are not made up of material things. It is not a fine house, rich furniture, a luxurious table, a flowery garden, and a superb carriage, that make a home. Vastly superior to this is a true home. Our ideal homes should be heart-homes, in which virtue lives and love-flowers bloom and peace-offerings are daily brought to its altars. It is made radiant within with every social virtue, and beautiful without by those simple adornments with which nature is every-where so prolific. The children born in such homes will leave them with regret, and come back to them in after life as pilgrims to a holy shrine. The towns on whose hills and in whose vales such homes are found will live forever in the hearts of its grateful children.

How easy it is to invest homes with true elegance, which resides not with the upholsterer or draper! It exists in the spirit presiding over the apartments of the dwelling. Contentment must be always most graceful; it sheds serenity over the scenes of its abode; it transforms a waste into a garden. The house lighted by those imitations of a nobler and brighter life may be wanting much which the discontented may desire, but to its inhabitants it will be a palace far outvying the Oriental in beauty.

There is music in the word Home. To the old it brings a bewitching strain from the harp of memory, to the middle-aged it brings up happy thoughts, while to the young it is a reminder of all that is near and dear to them. Our hearts turn with unchangeable love and longing to the dear old home which sheltered us in childhood. Kind friends may beckon us to newer scenes, and loving hearts may bind us fast to other pleasant homes; but we love to return to the home of our childhood. It may be old and rickety to the eyes of strangers; the windows may have been broken and patched long ago, and the floor worn through; but it is still the old home from out of which we looked at life with hearts full of hope, building castles which faded long ago. Here we watched life come and go; here we folded still, cold hands over hearts as still, that once beat full of love for us.

Even as the sunbeam is composed of millions of minute rays, the home-life must be constituted of little tendernesses, kind looks, sweet laughter, gentle words, loving counsels. It must not be like the torch blaze of natural excitement, which is easily quenched, but like the serene, chastened light, which burns as safely in the dry east wind as in the stillest atmosphere. Let each bear the other's burden the while; let each cultivate the mutual confidence which is a gift capable of increase and improvement, and soon it will be found that kindness will spring up on every side, displacing unsuitability, want of mutual knowledge, even as we have seen sweet violets and primroses dispelling the gloom of the gray sea-rocks.

The sweetest type of heaven is home. Nay, heaven itself is the home for whose acquisition we are to strive most strongly. Home in one form or another is the great object of life. It stands at the end of every day's labor, and beckons us to its bosom; and life would be cheerless and meaningless did we not discern across the river that divides it from the life beyond glimpses of the pleasant mansions prepared for us. Yes, heaven is the home towards which those who have lived aright direct their steps when wearied by the toils of life. There the members of the homes on earth, separated here, will meet again, to part no more.

Home Circle

The home circle may be, ought to be, the most delightful place on earth, the center of the purest affections and most desirable associations, as well as of the most attractive and exalted beauties to be found this side of paradise. Nothing can excel in beauty and sublimity the quietude, peace, harmony, affection, and happiness of a well-ordered family, where virtue is nurtured and every good principle fostered and sustained.

The home circle is the nursery of affection. It is the Eden of young attachments, and here should be planted and tended all the germs of love, every seed that shall ever sprout in the heart; and how carefully should they be tended! how guarded against the frosts of jealousy, anger, envy, pride, vanity, and ambition! how rooted in the best soil of the heart, and nourished and cultivated by the soul's best husbandry!

Here is the heart's garden. Its sunshine and flowers are here. All its beautiful, all its lovely things are here. And here should be expended care, toil, effort, patience, and whatever may be necessary to make them still more lovely. It is around the memories of the home circle that cluster the happiest and sometimes the saddest of the recollections of youth. There is the thought of brother and sister, perhaps now gone forever; of childish sorrow and grief; of the mother's prayer and the father's blessing. Do you wonder that these memories, both bitter and sweet, linger in the chambers of the mind long after those of the busy years of maturity have faded away before the approach of age? With what assiduity ought all who have arrived at the years of maturity strive to make their homes pleasant—and especially is this true of parents—so that its members when they go from thence will carry with them thoughts that through all the weary years that are before them will afford a pleasant retreat for them when well-nigh wearied with the care which comes with increasing years.

We can not honor with too deep a reverence the home affections; we can not cultivate them with too great a care; we can not cherish them with too much solicitude. There is the center of our present happiness, the springs of our deepest and strongest tides of joy. When the home affections are duly cultivated all others follow or grow out of them as a natural consequence. If any would have fervent and noble affections, such as give power and glory to the human heart, such as sanctify the soul and make it supremely beautiful, such as an angel might covet without shame, let him cultivate all the feelings that originate, as from a radiant point, in the home circle.

The true flower of home love requires for its development the aid of every member of the home circle. The tears of sympathy as well as the sunshine of domestic affection bring it to its glorious maturity. Ofttimes there are families the members of which are, without doubt, dear to each other. If sickness or sudden trouble fall on one all are afflicted, and make haste to help and sympathize and comfort. But in their daily life and ordinary intercourse there is not only no expression of affection, none of the pleasant and fond behavior that has, perhaps, little dignity, but which more than makes up for that in its sweetness, but there is an absolute hardness of language and actions which is shocking to every sensitive and tender feeling. Between father and mother, brother and sister, ofttimes pass rough and hasty words, and sometimes angry words, even more frequently than words of endearment. To judge from their actions they do not appear to love each other, nor does it seem to have occurred to them that it is their duty, as it should be their best pleasure, to do and say all that they possibly can for each other's good and happiness.

It is in the home circle where we form many, if not the most, of our habits, both of action and speech. These habits we carry into the world. They cling to us. The vulgarities which we use at home we shall use abroad—the coarse sayings, the low jest, the vulgar speeches, the grammatical blunders. All the lingual imperfections which go to form a part of our home conversation will enter into our conversation at all times and in all places. The home circle should be held too sacred to be polluted with the vulgarities of languages, which could have originated nowhere but in low and groveling minds. It should be dedicated to love and truth, to all that is tender in feeling and noble and pure in thought, to holiest communion of soul with soul. In order that such a communion may be enjoyed it is requisite that language should there perform its most sacred office, even the office of transmitting unimpared the most tender and sacred affections that glow in the human heart.

If the dialects of angels could be used on earth its fittest place would be the home circle. The language of home should be such as would not stain the purest lips nor fall harshly on the most refined ear. It should abound in words of wisdom which are at once the glory of youth and the honor of age.

The home circle, what tender associations does it recall! How deeply interwoven are its golden filaments with all the fiber of our affectionate natures, forming the glittering of the heart's golden life! Here are father, mother, child, brother, sister, companions, all the heart loves, all that makes earth lovely, all that enriches the mind with faith and the soul with hope. What language is most fitting for home use, to bear the messages of home feeling, to be freighted with the diamond treasure of home hearts? Should it be any other than the most refined and pure? any other than that breathing the sacred charity of affection?

Home is the great seeding-place of every affection that ever grows in the heart. Hence all should tend well to it, watch, prune, and cultivate with all prudence and wisdom, with all fervency of spirit. Let the music of the heart swell its notes here in one perpetual anthem of good will. Let praise and prayer and fervent good wishes and words and works hallow its sacred shrine. Let offices of love go round like smiles at a feast of joy. Let the whole soul devote its energies to making happy its home, and its rewards will be great.

If there be any tie formed in life which ought to be securely guarded from any thing which can put it in peril it is that which unites the members of a family. If there be a spot upon earth from which discord and strife should be banished it is the fireside. There center the fondest hopes and the most tender affections.

The great lever by which the heart is moved is love; it is the basis of all true excellence, of all excellent thought. How pleasing the spectacle of that home circle which is governed by the spirit of love! Each one strives to avoid giving offense, and is studiously considerate of the others' happiness. Sweet, loving dispositions are cultivated by all, and each tries to surpass the other in his efforts for the common harmony. Each heart glows with love, and the benediction of heavenly peace seems to abide upon that dwelling with such power that no storm of passion is able to rise.

There is no pleasanter sight than that of a family of young folks who are quick to perform little acts of attention towards their elders. The placing of the big arm-chair for the mother, or kindly errands done for father, and scores of little deeds, show the tender sympathy of gentle, loving hearts. Parents should show their appreciation of these kindly acts. If they do not indicate that they are appreciated the habit is soon dropped.

Little children are imitative creatures, and quickly catch the spirit surrounding them. So, if the father shows kindly attention to the mother, bright eyes will see the act, and quick minds will make a note of it. By example much more than by precept can children be taught to speak kindly to each other, to acknowledge favors, to be gentle and unselfish, to be thoughtful and considerate of the comfort of the family.

The boys, with inward pride of the father's courteous demeanor, will be chivalrous and helpful to their sisters; and the girls, imitating the mother, will be patient and gentle, even when brothers are noisy and heedless.

In the homes where true courtesy prevails it seems to meet you on the threshold. You feel the kindly welcome on entering. No angry voices are heard up stairs, no sullen children are sent from the room, no peremptory orders are given to cover the delinquencies of housekeeping or servants. A delightful atmosphere pervades the house, unmistakable, yet indescribable. Such a house, filled by the spirit of love, is a home indeed, to all who enter within its consecrated walls.

Members of the home circle lose nothing by mutual politeness; on the contrary, by maintaining not only its forms, but by inward cultivation of its spirit, they become contributors to that domestic feeling which is in itself a foretaste of heaven. The good-night and the good-morning salutation, though they may seem but trifles, have a sweet and softening influence on all its members. The little kiss and artless good-night of the smaller ones, as they retire to rest, have in them a heavenly melody.

Children are the pride and ornament of the family circle. They create sport and amusement and dissipate all sense of loneliness from the household. When intelligent and well trained they afford a spectacle which even indifferent persons contemplate with satisfaction and delight. Still these pleasurable emotions are not unalloyed with solicitude. It is an agreeable but changeable picture of human happiness. Time in advancing carries them forward, and erelong they will feel like exclaiming, with the older and more sad and serious ones around them, that their youth exists only in remembrance.

There is probably not an unpolluted man or woman living who does not feel that the sweetest consolations and best rewards of life are found in the loves and delights of home. There are very few who do not feel themselves indebted to the influence that clustered around their cradles for whatever good there may be in their character and condition. The influence preceding from the home circle is either a blessing or a curse, either for good or for evil. It can not be neutral. In either case it is mighty, commencing with our birth, going with us through life, clinging to us in death, and reaching into the eternal world. It is that unitive power which arises out of the manifold relations and associations of domestic life. The specific influence of husband and wife, of parent and child, of brother and sister, of teacher and pupil, united and harmoniously blended, constitute the home influence. From this we may infer the character of home influence. It is great, silent, irresistible, and permanent. Like the calm, deep stream, it moves on in silent but overwhelming power. It strikes root deep into the human heart, and spreads its branches wide over our whole being. Like the lily that braves the tempest, and the "Alpine flower that leans its cheek on the bosom of eternal snow," it is exerted amid the wildest scenes of life, and breathes a softening spell in our bosom, even when a heartless world is freezing up the fountains of our sympathy and love. It is governing, restraining, attracting, and traditional. It holds the empire of the heart and rules the life. It restrains the wayward passions of the child and checks the man in his mad career of ruin.

But all pictures of earthly happiness are transient in duration. Where can you find an unbroken home circle? The time must soon come, if it has not already, when you must part from those who have surrounded the same parental board, who mingled with you in the gay-hearted joys of childhood and the opening promise of youth. New cares will attend you in new situations, and the relations you form and the business you pursue may call you far from the "play-place" of your youth. In the unseen future your brothers and sisters may be sundered from you, your lives may be spent apart, and in death you may be divided; and of you it may be said:

"They grew in beauty side by side,

They filled one home with glee;

Their graves are severed far and wide,

By mount and stream and sea."

Father and Mother

How can children repay parents for their watchings, anxieties, labors, toils, trials, patience, and love? Think of the utter helplessness of the long years of infancy, of the entire dependence of succeeding childhood, of the necessities and wants of youth, of the burning solicitude of parents, and their deep and inexhaustible love; think of the long years of unwearied toil, of their deep and soul-felt devotion to the interests of their offspring, of the majesty and matchless power of their unselfish affections—and then say whether it is possible for youth to repay too much love and gratitude for all this bestowal of parental anxiety.

Oh, what thankfulness should fill every child's heart! What a glorious return of love! Every day should they give them some token of love. Every hour should their own hearts glow with gratitude and holy respect for those who have given them being, and loved them so fervently and long. Nothing will so warm and quicken all the affections of the parent's heart as such respect. Who feels like trusting an ungrateful child? Who can believe that his affection for any object can be firm and pure? The child who has loved long and well his parents has thoroughly electrified his affections, has surcharged them with the sweet spirit of an affectionate tenderness, which will pervade his entire heart, and will make him better and purer forever. The affections of such a child are to be trusted. As well may one doubt an angel as such a one.

There is always a liability, where sons and daughters have gone from the home of their childhood, and have formed homes of their own, gradually to lose the old attachments and cease to pay those attentions to parents which were so easy and natural in the olden time. New associations, new thoughts, new cares, all come in, filling the mind and heart, and, if special pains be not taken, they thrust out the old love. This ought never to be. Children should remember that the change is in them, and not with those they left behind. They have every thing that is new, much that is attractive in the present and bright in the future; but the parents' hearts cling to the past, and have most in memory. When children go away, they know not, and never will know until they experience it themselves, what it cost to give them up, nor what a vacancy they left behind.

The parents have not, if the children have, any new loves to take the place of the old. Do not, then, heartlessly deprive them of what you still can give of attention and love. If you live in the same place, let your step be—if possible, daily—a familiar one in the old home. Even when many miles away, make it your business to go to your parents. In this matter do not regard time or expense. They are well spent; and some day when the word reaches you, flashed over the wires, that your father or mother is gone, you will not regret then the many hours of travel spent in going to them while they were yet alive.

Keep up your intercourse with your parents. Do not deem it sufficient to write only when something important is to be told. Do not believe that to them "no news is good news." If it be but a few lines, write them. Write, if it be only to say, "I am well;" if it be only to send the salutation which says they are "dear," or the farewell which tells them that you are "affectionate" still. These little messages will be like caskets of jewels, and the tear that falls fondly over them will be treasures for you. Let every child, having any pretense to heart, or manliness, or piety, and who is so fortunate as to have a father or mother living, consider it a sacred duty to consult, at any reasonable personal sacrifice, the known wishes of such a parent until that parent is no more; and, our word for it, the recollections of the same through the after pilgrimage of life will sweeten every sorrow, will brighten every gladness, will sparkle every tear-drop with a joy ineffable.

There is no period of life when our parents do not claim our attention, love, and warmest affections. From youth to manhood, from middle age to riper years, if our honored parents survive, it should be our constant study how we can best promote their welfare and happiness, and smooth the pillow of their declining years.

Nothing better recommends an individual than his attentions to his parents. There are some children whose highest ambition seems to be the promotion of their parents' interest. They watch over them with unwearied care, supply all their wants, and by their devotion and kindness remove all care and sorrow from their hearts. On the contrary, there are others who seem never to bestow a thought upon their parents, and to care but little whether they are comfortably situated or not. By their conduct they increase their cares, embitter their lives, and bring their gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. Selfishness has steeled their hearts to the whispers of affection, and avarice denies to their parents those favors which would materially assist them in the down-hill of life.

Others, too, by a course of profligacy and vice, have drained to the very dregs their parents' cup of happiness, and made them anxious for death to release them from their sufferings. How bitter must be the doom of those children who have thus embittered the lives of their best earthly friends!

There can be no happier reflection than that derived from the thought of having contributed to the comfort and happiness of our parents. When called away from our presence, which sooner or later must happen, the thought will be sweet that our efforts and our care smoothed their declining years, so that they departed in comfort and peace. If we were otherwise, and we denied them what their circumstances and necessities required, and our hearts did not become like the nether millstone, our remorse must prove a thorn in our flesh, piercing us sharply, and filling our days with regret.

There is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to her son that transcends all other affections of the heart. It is neither to be chilled by selfishness, weakened by worthlessness, nor stifled by ingratitude. She will sacrifice every comfort to his convenience; she will surrender every pleasure to his enjoyment; she will glory in his fame, and exult in his prosperity. If misfortune overtake him, he will be the dearer to her from misfortune; and if disgrace settles upon his name, she will still love and cherish him in spite of his disgrace. If all the world besides cast him off, she will be all the world to him.

A father may turn his back on his child, brothers and sisters may become inveterate enemies, husbands may desert their wives, wives their husbands; but a mother's love endures through all. In good repute, in bad repute, in the face of the world's condemnation, a mother still lives on and still hopes that her child may turn from his evil ways and repent; still she remembers his infant smile that ever filled her bosom with rapture, the merry laugh, the joyful shout of his childhood, the opening promise of his youth; and thinking of these, she never can be brought to think him all unworthy.

Young man, speak kindly to your mother, and ever courteously and tenderly of her. But a little while and you shall see her no more forever. Her eye is dim, her form bent, and her shadow falls grave-ward. Others may love you when she has passed away—a kind-hearted sister, perhaps, or she whom of all the world you chose for a partner—she may love you warmly, passionately; children may love you fondly; but never again, never, while time is yours, shall the love of woman be to you as that of your old, trembling mother has been. Alas! how little do we appreciate a mother's tenderness while living! How heedless are we in youth of all her anxious tenderness! But when she is dead and gone, when the cares and coldness of the world come withering to our hearts, when we experience how hard it is to find true sympathy, how few love us for ourselves, how few will befriend us in misfortune, then it is that we think of the mother we have lost.

The loss of a parent is always felt. Even though age and infirmities may have incapacitated them from taking an active part in the cares of the family, still they are rallying points around which affection and obedience, and a thousand tender endeavors to please, concentrate. They are like the lonely star before us: neither its heat nor light are any thing to us in themselves, yet the shepherd would feel his heart sad if he missed it when he lifts his eye to the brow of the mountains over which it rises when the sun descends.

Over the grave of a friend, of a brother or a sister we would plant the primrose, emblematical of youth; but over that of a mother we would let the green grass shoot up unmolested; for there is something in the simple covering which nature spreads upon the grave which well becomes the abiding place of decaying age. Oh, a mother's grave! It is indeed a sacred spot. It may be retired from the noise of business, and unnoticed by the stranger; but to our heart how dear!

The love we should bear to a parent is not to be measured by years, nor annihilated by distance, nor forgotten when they sleep in dust. Marks of age may appear in our homes and on our persons, but the memory of a beloved parent is more enduring than that of time itself. Who has stood by the grave of a mother and not remembered her pleasant smiles, kind words, earnest prayer, and assurance expressed in a dying hour? Many years may have passed, memory may be treacherous in other things, but will reproduce with freshness the impressions once made by a mother's influence. Why may we not linger where rests all that was earthly of a beloved parent? It may have a restraining influence upon the wayward, prove a valuable incentive to increased faithfulness, encourage hope in the hour of depression, and give fresh inspiration to Christian life.

The mother's love is indeed the golden cord which binds youth to age; and he is still but a child, however time may have furrowed his cheek or silvered his brow, who can yet recall with a softened heart the fond devotion or the gentle chidings of the best friend that God ever gave us. Round the idea of mother the mind of a man clings with fond affection. It is the first deep thought stamped upon our infant heart, when yet soft and capable of receiving the most profound impressions; and the after feelings of the world are more or less light in comparison. Even in old age we look back to that feeling as the sweetest we have known through life.

Our passions and our willfulness may lead us far from the object of our filial love; we may come even to pain their heart, to oppose their wishes, to violate their commands. We may become wild, headstrong, or angry at their counsels or oppositions; but when death has stilled their monitory voices, and nothing but silent memory remains to recapitulate their virtues and deeds, affection, like a flower broken to the ground by a past storm, lifts up her head and smiles away our tears. When the early period of our loss forces memory to be silent, fancy takes her place, and twines the image of our dead parents with a garland of graces, beauties, and virtues, which we doubt not they possessed.

Infancy

Infancy, the morning of life! How beautiful it is! How filled with great responsibilities! An immortal soul commences its existence. A life, beginning in time, but capable of growing brighter when time is ended and eternity begun, commences to note the passing hours.

We welcome the infant with joy, and congratulate the parents, and we do well; but to an angel, who can clearly understand the infinite value of the life just commenced, the heights of happiness to which it may ascend, the depths of misery to which it may be brought, it must seem a moment so deeply freighted with solemn meaning as to dispel all expressions of joy, save only of a subdued and chastened kind.

Infancy has its hours of anxiety and trials for the parents, but it has also its hours of compensating joys. When sickness is in the midst, and it seems as if the cradle song would be exchanged for a dirge, what utter wretchedness of heart is the parent's portion! A mother watching the palpitating frame of her child as life ebbs slowly away evokes the sympathy of the sternest. A child dying dies but once, but the mother dies a hundred times. A mother mourning by the grave of her first-born, and strewing flowers over a coffined form instead of kisses on a warm brow, is one of the deepest spectacles of human woe. These are the dark shades, the night scenes of the parents' experience; but it has its richer, deeper, and more inspiring history, its seasons of comfort and delight, when the little child, insensibly, perhaps, draws the parents into a higher and a better life. What a sense of delicious responsibility fills the parents' hearts as they realize that in their hands and under their influence is to be molded a character, that they are the ones to carefully watch the unfolding of a human life, the development of a human soul.

How earnestly should they seek to set a watch over their lips, to guard well their thoughts and actions, to surround the child with such an air of refined, intelligent, loving kindness that its young life shall as naturally grow into a youth of beauty and a noble manhood or true womanhood as that the bud on the rose-bush expands to the gorgeous flower that excites universal admiration. Welcome to the parents the puny struggler, strong in his weakness, his little arms more irresistible than the soldier's, his lips touched with persuasion which Chatham and Pericles in manhood had not. His unaffected lamentation when he lifts up his voice on high, or, more beautiful, the sobbing child—the face all liquid grief, as he tries to swallow his vexation—soften all hearts to pity and to mirthful and clamorous compassion.

The parent's duty commences at the birth of the child. There is importance even in the handling of infancy. If it is unchristian it will beget unchristian states and feelings. If it is gentle, even patient and loving, it prepares a mood and temper like its own. Then how careful to banish the cross word, the impatient gesture! Let kind and loving tones only fall on its ears, and only gentle hands assist it in its little wants. There is scarcely room to doubt that all most crabbed, resentful, passionate characters—all most even, lovely, firm, and true ones—are prepared in a great degree by the handling of the nursery. The biography of many persons, faithfully written, would ascribe to the training of early years the molding not only of youthful character, but the more matured forms of mental and moral development of after years. The influence thus exerted in the early days of infancy is often the almost hopeless "casting of bread upon the waters"—often not found in any of its favorable developments until after "many days." The cares of the world and the evil example of others often choke the word of a good mother, and destroy its vitality; but not unfrequently it will be found, like seed long buried in the earth, to spring up to remembrance in active life, and the counsels imparted to the "infant of days" be found to influence and control the whole destiny of the man of mature years and gray hairs.

As it is a law of our being that all, even the most feeble and insignificant, exert a reciprocal influence on all around them, then an infant exerts a great modifying influence on the elder men and women around it. It recalls them from the contemplation of the stern realities of life to its innocent phases, from disdainful, self-reliant pride to trustful confidence. Hearts that but for the smile of innocence on the prattling lips of infancy had grown callous beat once more in sympathy with the distressed around them. The feeble clasp of well-nigh helpless hands is sometimes powerful enough to turn strong men from the road to ruin. An infant in his cradle is king, and wields his power over all who come near him.

Infants are the poetry of the world; the fresh flowers of our hearts and homes; little conjurers, with the magic of their natural ways, working by their spells what delights and enriches all ranks and equalizes the different classes of society. Every infant comes into the world, like a delegated prophet, the harbinger and herald of good tidings, whose office it is to make young again hearts well-nigh wearied with the cares of years. A child warms and softens the heart by its gentle presence; it enriches the soul by new feeling, and it awakens within it what is favorable to virtue. An infant is a beam of light, a fountain of love, a teacher, whose lessons few can resist. They recall us from much that engenders and encourages selfishness, that freezes the affections, roughens the manners, and indurates the heart. They brighten the home, deepen love, invigorate exertion, infuse courage, and vivify and sustain the charities of life.

An infant finds a place in the hearts of all people. The selfish and proud open their hearts to its silent influence. The aged, who are standing near the end of the journey of life, have the scenes of their younger days called up afresh by the child's artless ways, and in its company grow young again. The disconsolate seem to catch a fresh gleam of hope when they see the confiding ways of the little child, and take heart again.

It would seem fitting that nature should exempt little children from sickness and death, but, alas! impartial fate, which,

"With equal pace,

Knocks at the palace as the cottage gate,"

is no respecter of age. What a great hush falls on the ear, like a pall, and an untold sadness settles over the heart when the little child is sick. Is it not strange that such a wee bit of a thing should have the power to change every thing, making the sunshine that but yesterday played in and out of the windows so merrily and bright seem such a mockery to-day, changing the joyous tones of the other children into funeral notes? Why is it that the soft winds, which but lately seemed burdened with joy, and came softly whispering of pleasant dells, of flowing streams, of flowery banks, to-day seem strangely sighing, to have exchanged its joy for sorrow?

But such is the spell that baby has woven, knitting itself into the very meshes of our hearts in such a quiet, subduing manner that we scarcely know how dear it is until the little form lies still and prostrate. Great as is the influence of the little child while living it has also a sweet and sacred influence when its brief life is over and the solemn "dust unto dust" and "ashes unto ashes" has been said over the little mound in the church-yard.

Sweet places for pure thought and holy meditation are these little graves. They are depositories of the mother's sweetest joy, unfolded buds of innocence, humanity nipped by the frosts of time ere yet a canker-worm of corruption has nestled among its embryo petals.

Callous, indeed, must be the heart of him who can stand by a little grave-side and not have the holiest emotions of the soul awakened to thoughts of purity and joy, which belong alone to God and heaven. The mute preacher at his feet tells of a life begun and ended without a stain; and surely if this be vouchsafed to mortality, how much more pure and holier must be the spirit-land, enlightened by the sun of infinite goodness, from whence emanated the soul of that brief sojourner among us! How swells the soul with joy when standing by the earth-beds of lost little ones, sorrowful because a sweet treasure has been taken away, joyful because that sweet jewel glitters in the diadem of the redeemed.

Such, then, is infancy. 'Tis the brief morning hour which precedes the busy day. It may be grand and beautiful, while its after life may but be dark and lowering, going out at last with wailing winds and weeping storms. Or it may be bleak and dreary, only at last to break forth into the full glory of the beauteous Summer day. But whatever its present state care and trouble and sorrow are sure to await it. So train it, then, that it shall expect them and look to the only true source for aid and assistance for the trials that lie in store for it.

Childhood

Childhood, after reason has begun her sway, seems to us the happiest season of life. It is also the critical period. At this time they receive those impressions and contract those habits which impel them towards the good and true or towards the evil and false.

The child's soul is without character. It is a rudimental existence, pure as the driven snow—beautiful as a cherub angel, spotless, guileless, and innocent. It is the chart of a man yet to be filled up with the elements of a character. These elements are first outlined by the parents. With what delicacy should they use the pencil of personal influence! The soul is soft, and the lines they make are deep and not easily erased. It is a man they form. Responsible work! It is an immortal soul they work upon, destined to survive the wreck of matter and the crush of worlds, and to show in its character forever some distant trace, at least, of their work.

Engraved & Printed by Illman Brothers.

MOTHER AND CHILD.

Never believe any thing that concerns children to be of no importance. A hasty word is of consequence. The little things that they see and hear about them mold them for eternity. Observe how very quick the child's eye is to perceive the meaning of looks, voices, and motions. It peruses all faces, colors, and sounds. Every sentiment that looks into its eye is reflected therefrom, and plays in miniature on its countenance. The tear that steals down the cheek of a mother's suppressed grief gathers the little infantile face into a sob. With a wondering silence it studies the mother in her prayers, and looks up with her in that exploring watch which signifies unspoken prayer. If the child be tended with impatience, or coolly and with a lack of motherly gentleness, it straightway shows by its action that it, too, feels the sting of just that which is felt towards it. And thus it is angered by anger, fretted by fretfulness, irritated by irritation, having impressed upon it just that kind of impatience or ill-nature which is felt towards it, and growing faithfully into the bad mold as by a fixed law.

However apparently trivial the influences which contribute to form the character of the child, they endure through life. Those impulses to conduct which last the longest and are rooted the deepest always have their origin near our birth. It is there that the germs of virtue or vice, of feeling or sentiment, are first implanted which determine the character for life. It is in childhood that the mind is most open to impression, and ready to be kindled by the first spark that flies into it. The first thing continues always with the child. The first joy, the first failure, the first achievement, the first misadventure, paint the foreground of life.

Influence is as quiet and imperceptible on the child's mind as the falling of snowflakes on the meadows. One can not tell the hour when the human mind is not in the condition of receiving impressions from exterior moral forces. In innumerable instances the most secret and unnoticed influences have been in operation for months, and even years, to break down the strongest barriers of the human heart, and work out its moral ruin while yet the fondest parents and friends have been unaware of the working of such unseen agents of evil.

Children are more easily led to be good by examples of loving kindness and tales of well-doing in others than threatened into obedience by records of sin, crime, and punishment. Then strive to impress on the child's mind sincerity, truth, honesty, benevolence, and their kindred virtues, and the welfare of your child, not only for this life, but for the life to come, will be assured. What a responsibility it is to form a creature, the frailest and feeblest that heaven has made, into the intelligent and fearless sovereign of the whole animated universe, the interpreter, adorer, and almost representative of Divinity!

There is much mistaken kindness in the management of children. The law of love is great, but it showeth not its full strength, save when united with kindness. Make your children helpful and useful, and you make them happy. Let them early form habits of neatness, and when you are weary you will not have to wait on their carelessness.

Teach them to give you courteous speech and manners, and they will live to honor you. Take pains to have the home attractions stronger than can come from outside influences. It is a sad fact that few children confide in their parents. The parents must take an interest in them, and draw them to their hearts instead of repelling them away. There is no mystery in attaching children to one's self. If you love them, they will love you. If you make much of them, they will make much of you. They can readily pick out the children's friend among many. They have a quick way of discerning who really love them and who care for them.

Parents do not think how far a word of praise will ofttimes go with children. Praise is sunshine to a child, and there is no child who does not need it. It is the high reward of one's struggle to do right. Many a sensitive child hungers for commendation. Many a child, starving for the praise which parents should give, runs off eagerly after the designing flattery of others. To withhold praise where it is due is dishonest, and, in the case of a child, such a course often leaves a stinging sense of injustice. One may as well think to rear flowers in frost as to think of educating children successfully in rebuff and constant criticism. Judicious flattery is almost one of the necessities of existence with children. Indiscriminate flattery is, of course, bad. When it becomes necessary to reprove children, use the gentlest form of address under the circumstances. Reproof must not fall like a violent storm, breaking down and making those to droop whom it is meant to cherish and refresh. It must descend as the dew upon the tender herb, or like melting flakes of snow. The softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into, the mind.

Never reprove the little ones before strangers; for children are as sensitive, if not more so, than older persons, and wish strangers to think well of them. When reproved before any one with whom they are not well acquainted, their vanity is wounded. They have self-respect, and such mortification of it is dangerous. Praise spurs a child on to earnest effort; blame, when administered before visitors, takes away the power of doing well.

It is the parents' duty to make their children's childhood full of love and childhood's proper joyousness. Not all the appliances that wealth can buy are necessary to the free and happy unfolding of childhood in body, mind, and heart. But children must have love inside the house, and fresh air and good play and companionship outside; otherwise young life runs the danger of withering and growing stunted, or, at best, prematurely old and turned inward on itself. There is something in loving dependent children, in tender care for them, which bestows upon the soul the most enriching of its experience. They make us tender and sympathetic, and a thousand times reward us for all we do for them. We are indebted to them for constant incentives to noble living; for the perpetual reminder that we do not live for ourselves alone. For their sake we are admonished to put from us the debasing appetite, the unworthy impulse; to gather into our lives every noble and heroic quality, every tender and attractive grace. We owe them gratitude for the dark hour their presence has brightened; for the helplessness and dependence which have won us from ourselves; for the faith and trust which it is evermore their mission to renew; for their kisses, wet with tears, placed on brows that, but for their caressing, had furrowed into frowns.

The gleeful laugh of happy children is the best home music, and the graceful figures of childhood are the best statuary. They are well-springs of pleasure, messengers of peace and love, resting-places for innocence, links between angels and men. Their eyes, those clear wells of undefiled thought,—what is more beautiful? Full of hope, love, and curiosity, they meet your own. In prayer, how earnest; in joy, how sparkling; in sympathy, how tender! The man or woman who never tried the companionship of a little child has carelessly passed by one of the greatest pleasures of life, as one passes a rare flower without plucking or knowing its value. A home, and no children,—it is like a lantern, and no candle; a garden, and no flowers; a vine, and no grapes; a brook, and no water gurgling and gushing in its channels.

Nature affords striking proofs of foresight and wisdom in making the bonds of parental sympathy so invincibly strong and lasting. During childhood and youth, and even afterwards, when these charming epochs of life have passed away, the ties of constancy and attachment continue to prevail. Were not the chords of love thus strengthened, they would frequently be snapped asunder; for the severest trials which the world knows are those which assail the parental heart and pierce it with the deepest sorrows.

How fleeting are the happiness and innocent guilelessness of childhood! The years as they come bring with them intelligence and experience; but they take with them, in their resistless course, the innocent pleasures of childhood's years. Then deal gently, patiently, and kindly with them. You may be nearly over the rough pathway of life yourselves; make the only time of life that they can call happy as pleasant as possible. "Our children," says Madame de Stael, "who are tenderly reared by us, are soon destined for others than ourselves. They soon stride rapidly forward in the career of life, while we fall slowly back. They soon begin to regard their parents in the light of memory and to look upon others in the light of hope."

They will not trouble you long. Children grow up; nothing on earth grows so fast as children. It was but yesterday and that lad was playing with tops, a buoyant boy. He is a man now. There is no more childhood for him or for us. Life has claimed him. When a beginning is made, it is like a raveling stocking; stitch by stitch gives way till all are gone. The house has not a child left in it; there is no more noise in the hall; no boys rush in, pell-mell; it is very orderly now. There are no more skates or sleds, bats, balls, or strings left scattered about. There are no more gleeful laughs of happy girls, or dolls left to litter the best room. There is no delay for sleeping folks; there is no longer any task before you lie down. But the mother's heart is heavy, and the father's house is lonely.

Brother and Sister

The affections that exist between the members of the same family afford a pleasing spectacle of human happiness. That which exists between brother and sister should be assiduously cultivated. It is a beautiful and lovely feeling, and seems to be wholly angelic in its thoughts and feelings. It must necessarily be a pure, spiritual love. It arises, not from a sense of gratitude, or for favors received, or from any thing save the endearing relationship of family. It rests not on any thing but a spiritual affinity of soul. It should be cultivated as one of the sweetest plants in the garden of the heart. It should be watered every morning and evening with the dews of good nature, and sunned all day with the light of kindness. It should hear nothing but loving and tender words, even the dulcet music of home; see nothing but smiles and the tokens of confidence and sympathy, and know nothing but its own spirit of tenderness and unity.

How large and cherished a place does a good sister's love always hold in the grateful memory of one who has been blessed with the benefit of this relation! How many are there who, in the changes of mature years, have found a sister's love their ready and adequate resource! With what a sense of security is confidence reposed in a good sister, and with what assurance that it will be uprightly and considerately given is her counsel sought! How intimate is the friendship of such a brother and sister not widely separated in age from one another!

What a reliance for warning, caution, and sympathy has each secured in each! How many are the brothers who, when thrown into circumstances of temptation, have found the thought of a sister's love a constant, holy presence, rebuking every wayward thought! How many brothers are there from whom death separated the sister years ago who yet feel her influence thrown around them like sweet incense from an unseen censer; who are arrested, when just about to take a downward step, by the memory of a reproving look from eyes that have long been closed; who have pursued their weary path of duty, cheered by the remembrance of a smile from lips that will never smile again!

Who can tell the thoughts that cluster around the word sister? How ready she is to forgive the foibles of a brother! She never deserts him. In adversity she clings closely to him, and in trial she cheers him. When the bitter voice of reproach is poured in his ears she is ever ready to hush its hard tones, and to turn his attention away from its painful notes. Let him move in pleasant paths, she hangs clusters of flowers about him.

In watching his favored career and listening to his eulogy she feels the purest satisfaction. The cold grave can not crush her affections for him—it outlives her tears and sighs; and hence she often wanders to the spot where he reposes with the fragrant rose-bush and creeping honeysuckle, and plants them on his tomb; and who will dare to affirm her love perishes when she passes away from earth? May it not live far off in the glorious land, increasing in fervor and intensity as the years of eternity pass away?

Affection does not beget weakness, nor is it effeminate for a brother to be firmly attached to a sister. Such a boy will make a noble and brave man. The young man who was accustomed to kiss his sweet, innocent sister night and morning as they met shows its influence upon him. He will never forget it, and when he shall take some one to his heart as his wife she shall reap the golden fruits thereof. The young man who is in the habit of giving his arm to his sister as they walk to and from church will never leave his wife to find her way as best she can. He who has been trained to see that his sister was seated before he sought his own will never mortify a neglected wife in the presence of strangers. And the young man who frequently handed his sister to her chair at the table will never have cause to blush as he sees some gentleman extend to his wife the courtesy she knows is due from him.

The intercourse of brother and sister forms an important element in the happy influence of home. A boisterous or a selfish boy may try to domineer over the weaker or more dependent girl. But generally the latter exerts a softening influence. The brother animates and heartens; the sister modifies and refines. The vine-tree and its sustaining elm are the emblems of such a relation; and by such agencies our "sons may become like plants grown up in youth, and our daughters like corner-stones polished after the similitude of a temple."

Sisters scarcely know the influence they have over their brothers. A young man is pretty much what his sister and young lady friends choose to make him. If sisters are watchful and affectionate they may in various ways lead them along till their characters are formed, and then a high respect for ladies and a manly self-respect will keep them from mingling in low society.

Girls, especially those who are members of a large family, have a great influence at home, where brothers delight in their sisters, and where parents look fondly down on their daughters. Girls have much in their power with regard to those boys; they have in their power to make them gentler, truer, purer; to give them higher opinion of woman; to soften their manner and ways; to tone down rough places, and shape sharp, angular corners. They should interest themselves in their pursuits, and show them by every means in their power that they do not consider them and their doings beneath their notice.

But few sisters realize how much they have to do with the welfare of their brothers—how much it is in their power to win them to the right modes of thoughts and actions by little acts of sisterly attentions. If they would but spare an hour now and then from their peculiar employment to their boyish sports, and not turn contemptuously away from the books and amusements in which they delight, they would soon find how a gentle word would turn off a sharp answer; how a genial look would effectually reprove an unfitting expression; how gratefully a small kindness would be received, and how unbounded would be the power for good they would obtain by a continuance of such conduct.

Fortunate is the family that possesses such an elder sister. The mother confides in her, the father takes pride in her ability to aid and cheer the household, and the younger ones lean upon her. By her counsels, her example, her influence, she may do as much as the parents to give to the family life. She is at once companion and counselor for the younger members, since separated by only a brief interval from the sports of childhood she can sympathize easily with the little wants and little griefs that fill the child's heart to overflowing, and show it how to compass its desires and forget its sorrows. A short girlhood is usually the allotment of the oldest daughter; but this is more than made up to her in the long and delightful companionship she has with her mother, in the sense she is made to have of her own importance in the family, and the unusual capability she is obliged by the force of circumstances to acquire and display.

It is a law of our being that no improvement that takes place in either of the sexes is confined to itself; each is the universal mirror to each, and the refinements of the one will always be in reciprocal proportion to the polish of the other. The brother and sister should grow up together, be educated at the same school, engage in the same sports, and, as far as practicable, in the same labors. Their joys and sorrows, tastes and aims, should be mutual as far as possible. The same moral lessons, obligations, and duties should bear upon them. It is an error that the youths of our land are separated in so many of the most important duties of life.

Much evil is caused by mistaken opinions on this point. The girls are taught that it is not pretty to be with the boys and the boys that it is not manly to be with the girls, while at the same time the society of each is necessary for the best development of character in the other. When they do meet it is only for sport and nonsense, to cajole and deceive each other. Hence the good influence they should have upon each other is in a great measure lost. They are unacquainted with each other, know not each other's natures, and have but little interest in each other's business and duties.

We want the girls to rival the boys in all that is good, refined, and ennobling. We want them to rival the boys, as they well can, in learning, in understanding, in all noble qualities of mind and heart, but not in any of the rougher qualities and traits. We want the girls to be gentle—not weak, but gentle—and kind and affectionate. We want to be sure that wherever a girl is there should be a sweet, subduing, and harmonizing influence of purity and truth and love pervading and hallowing from center to circumference the entire circle in which she moves. It is her mission to instruct the boys in all needful lessons of neatness and order, of patience and goodness.

We want the boys to be gentle, courteous, and considerate towards their younger sisters; to be the protector and emulator of their virtues. We want to be sure that where there is a boy there will go forth the influence inspired by the courage of manly self-respect—a respect that keeps him from mingling in low society. We want him to be every whit a man, a fit friend and companion for true womanhood. We want to see them both enjoy the Spring-time of life, for this is the season of joy, of bliss, of strength, of pride; it is the treasury of life, in which nature stores up those riches which are for our future employment and profit. Youth is to age what the flower is to the fruit, the leaf to the tree, the sand to the glass. Hence we want to see them both so using the golden age of youth as to be able to reap a rich harvest in the years of maturity.

Manhood

Manhood is the isthmus between two extremes—the ripe, the fertile season of action, when alone we can hope to find the head to contrive united with the hand to execute.

Each age has its peculiar duties and privileges, pleasures and pains. When young we trust ourselves too much; when old we trust others too little. Rashness is the error of youth, timid caution of age. In youth we build castles and plan for ourselves a course of action through life. As we approach old age we see more and more plainly that we are simply carried forward by a mighty torrent, borne here and there against our will. We then perceive how little control we have had in reality over our course; that our actions, resolves, and endeavors, which seemed to give such a guiding course to our life,

"Are but eddies of the mighty stream

That rolls to its appointed end."

In childhood time goes by on leaden wings,—ten, twenty years, a life-time seems an endless period. At manhood we are surprised that time goes so rapidly; we then comprehend the fleeting period of life. In old age the years that are passed seem as a dream of the night, our life as a tale nearly told. Childhood is the season of dreams and high resolves; manhood, of plans and actions; age, of retrospection and regret.

There is certainly no age more potential for good or evil than that of early manhood. The young men have, with much propriety, been denominated the flower of a country. To be a man and seem to be one are two different things. All young men should carefully consider what is meant by manhood. It does not consist in years simply, nor in form and figure. It lies above and beyond these things. It is the product of the cultivation of every power of the soul, and of every high spiritual quality naturally inherent or graciously supplemented. It should be the great object of living to attain this true manhood. There is no higher pursuit for the youth to propose to himself. He is standing at the opening gates of active life. There he catches the first glimpse of the possibilities in store for him. There he first perceives the duties that will shortly devolve upon him. What higher aim can he propose to himself than to act his part in life as becomes a man who lives not only for time but for eternity? How earnestly should he resolve to walk worthily in all that true manhood requires!

There are certain claims, great and weighty, resting upon all young men which they can not shake off if they would. They grow out of those indissoluble relations which they sustain to society, and those invaluable interests—social, civil, and religious—with all the duties and responsibilities connected with them, which are soon to be transferred to their shoulders from the venerable fathers who have borne the burden and heat of the day. The various departments of business and trust, the pulpit and the bar, our courts of justice and halls of legislation, our civil, religious, and literary institutions, all, in short, that constitute society and go to make life useful and happy, are to be in their hands and under their control.

Society, in committing to the young her interests and privileges, imposes upon them corresponding claims, and demands that they be prepared to fill with honor and usefulness the places which they are destined to occupy. Young men can not take a rational view of the station to which they are advancing, or of the duties that are coming upon them, without feeling deeply their need of high and peculiar qualifications.

Every young man should come forward in life with a determination to do all the good he can, and to leave the world the better for his having lived in it. He should consider that he was not made for himself alone, but for society, for mankind, and for God. He should consider that he is a constituent, responsible member of the great family of man, and, while he should pay particular attention to the wants and welfare of those with whom he is immediately connected, he should accustom himself to send his thoughts abroad over the wide field of practical benevolence.

There is within the young man an uprising of lofty sentiments which contribute to his elevation, and though there are obstacles to be surmounted and difficulties to be vanquished, yet with truth for his watchword, and relying on his own noble purposes and exertions, he may crown his brow with imperishable honors. He may never wear the warrior's crimson wreath, the poet's chaplet of bays, or the statesman's laurels; though no grand, universal truth may at his bidding stand confessed to the world; though it may never be his to bring to a successful issue a great political revolution; to be the founder of a republic which shall be a distinguished star in the constellation of nations; even more, though his name may never be heard beyond the narrow limits of his own neighborhood, yet is his mission none the less a high and noble one.

In the moral and physical world not only the field of battle but also the cause of truth and virtue calls for champions, and the field for doing good is white unto the harvest. If he enlists in the ranks, and his spirits faint not, he may write his name among the stars of heaven. Beautiful lives have blossomed in the darkest places, as pure, white lilies, full of fragrance, sometimes bloom on the slimy, stagnant waters. No possession is so productive of real influence as a highly cultivated intellect. Wealth, birth, and official station may and do secure an external, superficial courtesy, but they never did and never can secure the reverence of the heart. It is only to the man of large and noble soul—to him who blends a cultivated mind with an upright heart—that men yield the tribute of deep and genuine respect. A man should never glory in that which is common to a beast; nor a wise man in that which is common to a fool; nor a good man in that which is common to a wicked man.

Since it is in the intellect that we trace the source of all that is great and noble in man it follows that if any are ambitious to possess a true manhood they will be men of reflection, men whose daily acts are controlled by their judgment, men who recognize the fact that life is a real and earnest affair, that time is fleeting, and, consequently, resolve to waste none of it in frivolities; men whose life and conversation are indicative of that serious mien and deportment which well becomes those who have great interests committed to their charge, and who are determined that in so far as in them lies life with them shall be a success, who fully realize the importance of every step they may take, and, consequently, bring to it the careful consideration of a mind trained to think with precision.

The man who thinks, reads, studies, and meditates has intelligence cut in his features, stamped on his brow, and gleaming in his eye. Thinking, not growth, makes perfect manhood. There are some who, though they are done growing, are only boys. The constitution may be fixed while the judgment is immature; the limbs may be strong while the reasoning is feeble. Many who can run and jump and bear any fatigue can not observe, can not examine, can not reason or judge, contrive or execute—they do not think. Such persons, though they may have the figure of a man and the years of a man, are not in possession of manhood; they will not acquire it until they learn to look beyond the present, and take broad and comprehensive views of their relations to society.

As we often mistake glittering tinsel for solid gold, so we often mistake specious appearances for true worth and manhood. We are too prone to take professions and words in lieu of actions; too easily impressed with good clothes and polite bearings to inquire into the character and doings of the individual. Man should be rated, not by his hoards of gold, not by the simple or temporary influence he may for a time exert, but by his unexceptionable principles relative both to character and religion. Strike out these and what is he? A savage without sympathy! Take them away, and his manship is gone; he no longer lives in the image of his Creator. No smile gladdens his lips, no look of sympathy illumes his countenance to tell of love and charity for the woes of others.

But let man go abroad with just principles, and what is he? An exhaustless fountain in a vast desert! A glorious sun, shining ever, dispelling every vestige of darkness. There is love animating his heart, sympathy breathing in every tone. Tears of pity—dew-drops of the soul—gather in his eye, and gush impetuously down his cheek. A good man is abroad, and the world knows and feels it. Beneath his smile lurks no degrading passion; within his heart there slumbers no guile. He is not exalted in mortal pride, not elevated in his own views, but honest, moral, and virtuous before the world. He stands throned on truth; his fortress is wisdom, and his dominion is the vast and limitless universe. Always upright, kind, and sympathizing; always attached to just principles, and actuated by the same, governed by the highest motives in doing good; these constitute his only true manliness.

Womanhood

It should be the highest ambition of every young woman to possess a true womanhood. Earth presents no higher object of attainment. To be a woman is the truest and best thing beneath the skies. A true woman exists independent of outward adornments. It is not wealth, or beauty of person, or connection, or station, or power of mind, or literary attainments, or variety and richness of outward accomplishments, that make the woman. These often adorn womanhood, as the ivy adorns the oak, but they should never be mistaken for the thing they adorn.

The great error of womankind is that they take the shadow for the substance, the glitter for the gold, the heraldry and trappings of the world for the priceless essence of womanly worth which exists within the mind. Every young man, as a general rule, has some purpose laid down for the grand object of his life—some plan, for the accomplishment of which all his other actions are made to serve as auxiliaries. It is to be regretted that every young woman does not also have a set purpose of life—some grand aim, grand in its character. She should, in the first place, know what she is, what power she possesses, what influences are to go out from her, what position in life she was designed to fill, what duties are resting upon her, what she is capable of being, what fields of profit and pleasure are open to her, how much joy and pleasure she may find in a true life of womanly activity.

When she has duly considered these things, she should then form the high purpose of being a true woman, and make every circumstance bend to her will for the accomplishment of this noble purpose. There can be no higher aim to set before herself. There is no nobler attainment this side of the spirit-land than lofty womanhood. There is no ambition more pure than that which craves this crown for her mortal brow. To be a genuine woman, full of womanly instincts and power, forming the intuitive genius of her penetrative soul, the subduing authority of her gentle yet resolute will, is to be a peer of earth's highest intelligence. All young women have this noble prize before them. They may all put on the glorious crown of womanhood. They may make their lives grand in womanly virtues.

A true woman has a power, something peculiarly her own, in her moral influence, which, when duly developed, makes her queen over a wide realm of spirit. But this she can possess only as her powers are cultivated. It is cultivated women that wield the scepter of authority among men. Wherever cultivated woman dwells, there is refinement, intellect, moral power, life in its highest form. To be a cultivated woman she must commence early, and make this the grand aim of her life. Whether she work or play, travel or remain at home, converse with friends or study books, gaze at flowers or toil in the kitchen, visit the pleasure party or the sanctuary of God, she keeps this object before her mind, and taxes all her powers for its attainment.

Every young woman should also determine to do something for the honor and elevation of her sex. Her powers of mind and body should be applied to a good end. Let her resolve to help with the weight of her encouragement and counsels her sisters who are striving nobly to be useful, to remove as far as possible the obstacles in their way. Let her call to her aid all the forces of character she can command to enable her to persist in being a woman of the true stamp. In every class of society the young women should awaken to their duty. They have a great work to do. It is not enough that they should be what their mothers were—they must be more. The spirit of the times calls on women for a higher order of character and life. Will they heed the call? Will they emancipate themselves from the fetters of custom and fashion, and come up, a glorious company, to the possession of a vigorous, virtuous, noble womanhood, that shall shed new light upon the world and point the way to a divine life?

Woman's influence is the chief anchor of society, and this influence is purifying the world, and the work she has already accomplished will last forever. No costly marble can build a more enduring monument to her memory than the impress she makes on her own household. The changing scenes of life may hurl the genius of man from eminence to utter ruin; for his life hangs on the fabric of public opinion. But the honest form of a true mother reigns queen in the hearts of her children forever.

Man's admirers may be greater, but woman holds her kindred by a silken cord of familiar kindness, strengthened and extended by each little courtesy of a life-time. Man may make his monument of granite or of marble, woman hers of immortality. Man may enjoy here, she will enjoy hereafter. Man may move the rough crowd by his eloquence, woman will turn his coarseness into a cheerful life. Man may make laws and control legislatures, woman will mold their minds in the school-room and be the author of their grandest achievements. Cruelty she despises, and it lessens at her bidding; purity she admires, and it grows in her presence; music she loves, and her home is full of its melody; happiness is her herald, and she infuses a world with a desire for enjoyment. Without her, cabins would be fit for dwellings, furs fit for clothing, and all the arts and improvements would be wanting in stimulus and ambition; for the world is moved and civilization is advanced by the silent influence of woman.

This influence is due not exclusively to the fascination of her charms, but to the strength, uniformity, and consistency of her virtues, maintained under so many sacrifices and with so much fortitude and heroism. Without these endowments and qualifications, external attractions are nothing; but with them, their power is irresistible. Beauty and virtue are the crowning attributes bestowed by nature upon woman, and the bounty of Heaven more than compensates for the injustice of man. The possession of these advantages secures to her universally that degree of homage and consideration which renders her independent of the effect of unequal and arbitrary laws. But it is not the incense of idol-worship which is most acceptable to the heart of woman; it is the courtesy, and just appreciation of her proper position, merit, and character. Woman surpasses man in the quickness of her perception and in the right direction of her sympathies; and thus it is justly due to her praise that the credit of her acknowledged ascendency is personal amidst the increasing degeneracy of man.

Woman is the conservator of morality and religion. Her moral worth holds man in some restraint, and preserves his ways from becoming inhumanly corrupt. Mighty is the power of woman in this respect. Every virtue in woman has its influence on the world. A brother, husband, friend, or son is touched by its sunshine. Its mild beneficence is not lost. A virtuous woman in the seclusion of her home, breathing the sweet influence of virtue into the hearts and lives of its loved ones, is an evangel of goodness to the world. She is a pillar of the external kingdom of right. She is a star, shining in the moral firmament. She is a priestess, administering at the fountain of life. Every prayer she breathes is answered, in a greater or less degree, in the hearts and lives of those she loves. Her heart is an altar-fire, where religion acquires strength to go out on its mission of mercy.

We can not overestimate the strength and power of woman's moral and religious character. The world would go to ruin without her. With all our ministers and Churches, and Bibles and sermons, man would be a prodigal without the restraint of woman's virtue and the consecration of her religion. Woman first lays her hand on our young faces; she plants the first seeds; she makes the first impressions; and all along through life she scatters the good seeds of her kindness, and sprinkles them with the dews of her piety.

A woman of true intelligence is a blessing at home, in her circle of friends, and in society. Wherever she goes she carries with her a health-giving influence. There is a beautiful harmony about her character that at once inspires a respect which soon warms into love. The influence of such a woman upon society is of the most salutary kind. She strengthens right principles in the virtuous, incites the selfish and indifferent to good actions, and gives to the light and frivolous a taste after something more substantial than the frothy gossip with which they seek to recreate themselves.

Many a woman does the work of her life without being noticed or seen by the world. The world sees a family reared to virtue, one child after another growing into Christian manhood or womanhood, and at last it sees them gathered around the grave where the mother that bore them rests from her labors. But the world has never seen the quiet woman laboring for her children, making their clothes, providing them food, teaching them their prayers, and making their homes comfortable and happy.

A woman's happiness flows to her from sources and through channels different from those that give origin and conduct to the happiness of man, and in a measure will continue to do so forever. Her faculties bend their exercise toward different issues, her social and spiritual notions demand a different aliment. Her powers are eminently practical. She has a rich store of practical good sense, an ample fund of tact, skill, shrewdness, inventiveness, and management. It is her work to form the young mind, to give it direction and instruction, to develop its love for the good and true. It is her work to make home happy, to nourish all the virtues, and instill all the sweetness which builds men up into good citizens. She is the consoler of the world, attending it in sickness; her society soothes the world after its toils, and rewards it for its perplexities. They receive the infant when it enters upon its existence, and drape the cold form of the aged when life is passed. They assuage the sorrows of childhood, and minister to the poor and distressed.

Loveliness of spirit is woman's scepter and sword; for it is both the emblem and the instrument of her conquest. Her influence flows from her sensibilities, her gentleness, and her tenderness. It is this which disarms prejudice, and awakens confidence and affection in all who come within her sphere, which makes her more powerful to accomplish what her will has resolved than if nature had endowed her with the strength of a giant. As a wife and mother, woman is seen in her most sacred and dignified aspect. As such she has great influence over the characters of individuals, over the condition of families, and over the destinies of empires.

How transitory are the days of girlhood! The time when the cheerful smile, the merry laugh, and the exulting voice were so many expressions of happiness,—how quickly it passed! How time has multiplied its scores, and accumulated its unwelcome effects against the charms and attractions of youth! But if the heart be chilled, if the cheek be more pale, and the eye less bright; if the outward adornment of the temple of love have become faded and dimmed, there may be yet inwardly preserved the shrine where is laid up the sacred treasures of loveliness and purity, gentleness and grace, the attempered qualities of tried and perfected virtues: as if the blossoms of early childhood had ripened into the mellow and precious fruits of autumnal time.

But in another and better sense a good woman never grows old. Years may pass over her head, but if benevolence and virtue dwell in her heart she is as cheerful as when the spring of life first opened to her view. When we look at a good woman we never think of her age; she looks as happy as when the rose first bloomed on her cheek. In her neighborhood she is a friend and benefactor; in the Church, the devout worshiper and exemplary Christian. Who does not love and respect the woman who has spent her days in acts of kindness and mercy, who has been the friend of sorrowing ones, whose life has been a scene of kindness and love, devotion to truth and religion. Such a woman can not grow old; she will always be fresh and beautiful in her spirits and active in her humble deeds of mercy and benevolence.

If the young lady desires to retain the bloom and beauty of youth, let her not yield to the way of fashion and folly; let her love truth and virtue; and to the close of her life will she retain those feelings which now make life appear a garden of sweets ever fresh and green.

Home Harmonies

Can there be a more important theme to claim the attention of thinking parents than that of home harmonies, how to make the home life so pleasant and full of kindly courtesy that its members will look to it as the pleasantest spot on earth, and find their highest enjoyment in advancing the innocent pleasures of home? Is it not the duty of parents to make their homes as pleasant as they possibly can for their children and their mates? Should they not strive to have them resound with the fun and frolic of childhood, and enlivened with the cheerfulness of happy social life? For too many homes are like the frame of a harp that stands without strings. In form and outline they suggest music, but no melody arises from the empty spaces; and thus it happens that home is unattractive, dreary, and dull.

And do you, fathers and mothers, you who have sons and daughters growing up around you, do you ever think of your responsibility of keeping alive the home feeling in the hearts of your children? Remember that within your means the obligation rests upon you of making their homes the pleasantest spot on earth, to make the word home to them the synonym of happiness. Go to as great length as you consistently can to provide for them those amusements, which, if not provided there, entice them elsewhere. You had better spend your money thus than in ostentation and luxury, and far better than to amass a fortune for your children to spend in the future. The richest legacy you can leave your child is a life-long, inextinguishable, and fragrant recollection of home when time and death have forever dissolved the enchantment.

Give him that, and on the strength of that will he make his way in the world; but let his recollection of home be repulsive, and the fortune you may leave him will be a poor compensation for the loss of that tenderness of heart and purity of life, which not only a pleasant home, but the memory of one would have secured. Remember, also, that while they will feel grateful to you for the money you may leave them, and will think of you when gone, they will go to your green graves and bless your very ashes for that sanctuary of quiet comfort and refinement, to which you may, if you possess the means, transform your home. The memory of the beautiful and happy homes of childhood will in after years come to the weary mind like strains of low, sweet music, and in its silent influence for good will prove of infinite more value than houses, stocks, and money.

Too frequently the effect of prosperity is to render the heart cold and selfish; but the heart will never forget the hallowed influence of happy home memories. It will be an evening enjoyment to which the lapse of years will only add new sweetness. Such a home memory is a constant inspiration for good, and as constant a restraint from evil. A constant endeavor should be made to render every home cheerful. Innocent joy should reign in every heart. There should be found domestic amusements, fireside pleasures, quiet and simple they may be, but such as shall make home happy, and not leave it that irksome place that will oblige the youthful spirit to look elsewhere for joy.

There are a thousand unobtrusive ways in which we may add to the cheerfulness of home. The very modulations of the voice will often make a wonderful difference. How many shades of feeling are expressed by the voice! What a change comes over us by a change of tones! No delicately tuned harp-string can awaken more pleasures, no grating discord can pierce with more pain. It is practicable to make home so delightful that children shall have no disposition to wander from it or prefer any other place. It is possible to make it so attractive that it shall not only firmly hold its own loved ones, but shall draw others into its cheerful circle. Let the house all day long be the scene of pleasant looks, pleasant words, kind and affectionate acts; let the table be the happy eating-place of a merry group, and not simply a dull board where the members come to eat. Let the sitting-room at evening be the place where a merry company settle themselves to books and games, till the round of good-night kisses are in order. Let there be some music in the household, not kept to show to company, but music in which all can join. Let the young companions be welcomed and made for the time a part of the group. In a word, let the home be surrounded by an air of cozy and cheerful good-will. Then children will not be exhorted to love it; you will not be able to tempt them away from it.

To the man of business home should be an earthly paradise, to the embellishment of which his leisure time and thoughts might well be devoted. Life is certainly a pleasanter thing if the inevitable daily drudgery be relieved by a little lightness, brightness, and intelligent enjoyment. The craving for amusement is a natural one, and within proper bounds it ought to be gratified. And there is surely no better entertainment for the spare hours of an intelligent man than the embellishment of his home, so that it will be an agreeable place for himself and his family to dwell in, and for his friends to visit. He may be assured that his children as they grow up will become better men and women, and more useful members of society, if they live in a home which is itself a work of art, and in which they are surrounded by objects stimulative to the intellect, the imagination, and to all the better feelings of their natures.

This making home a work of art is not a piece of sentimentalism, but it is one which ought to address itself in the strongest manner to the minds of all practical people. There is nothing better worthy of adornment than the house we live in; and a home arranged and fitted up with taste will be better cared for, it will beget habits of greater neatness, it will inspire nobler thoughts, it will exert a pleasanter influence, not only on its inmates, but on the whole neighborhood, than one fitted with the costliest objects selected with indiscrimination, without plan, and merely for the purpose of ostentatious display.

It has been said that there is sure to be contentment in a home in the windows of which can be seen birds and flowers, and it may also be said that there will be the same conditions wherever there are pictures on the walls. A room without pictures is like a room without windows. Pictures are loop-holes of escape to the soul, leading to other scenes and other spheres. They are consolers of loneliness, they are books, they are histories and sermons which we can read without turning over the leaves. The sweet influence of flowers is no less than that of paintings. At all seasons of the year they are gladly welcomed. They are emblematic of both the joys and sorrows of life, and religion has associated them with the highest spiritual verities. Faded though they may sometimes be, they have the power to wake the chords of memory and make us children again. At the sick-bed and marriage feast, on altar and cathedral walls they have a meaning, and the humblest home looks brighter where they bloom.

Many a child goes astray, not because there is a want of prayers or virtue at home, but simply because home lacks sunshine. A child needs smiles as much as flowers sunbeams. Children look little beyond the present moment. If a thing pleases them they are apt to seek it, if it displeases they are prone to avoid it. Children are great imitators, and are never so happy as when trying to do what they see other people do. Their plays consist in copying actual affairs of the older ones, and these amusements often really prepare the children for the actual business of life, so that they may sooner become helpful to their parents. They should be watched and encouraged, therefore, in their plays to habits of thoughtfulness and self-reliance. It is to be hoped that games of skill, which shall try the wit and patience of both parents and children, will become the fashion of the times, until every home in the land shall be supplied with these accessories of pleasure, until every child shall have in his father's house, be it humble or costly, such appliances and helps for his entertainment that he shall find his amusements under his father's roof and in his father's presence.

Among home amusements the best is the good old habit of conversation, the talking over the events of the day in bright and quick play of wit and fancy, the story which brings the laugh, and the speaking the good, kind, and true things which all have in their hearts. Conversation is the sunshine of the mind, an intellectual orchestra where all the instruments should bear a part. Cultivate singing in the family. The songs and hymns your childhood sung, bring them all back to your memory; and teach them to the little ones. Mix them all together, to meet the varying moods as, in after life, they come over us so mysteriously. Is it not singular what trifles sometimes serve to wake the memories of youth? And what more often than snatches of olden songs not heard for many years, but which used to come from lips now closed forever? Thus the home songs not only serve to make the present home life happy and agreeable, but the very memory of it will serve as a shield of defense in times of trial and temptation. At times, amid the crushing mishaps of business, a song of the olden time breaks in upon the weary thoughts and guides the mind into another channel—light breaks from behind the cloud in the sky, and new courage is given us.

Parents do well to study the character of the younger ones. The majority of parents do not understand their children. They are kept under restraint, and are not properly developed; they live a life of fear rather than of love, which should not be. Home should be the bright sanctuary of our hearts, the repository of all our thoughts. Have confidence in each other, and the seeds properly sown will spring forth with fruits that will bud and blossom, but never die. What is comparable to a well regulated, happy home? It is our heaven below, where each thought will vibrate in perfect unison.

In the great majority of cases it will be found that the frequenters of saloons and places of low resort have not pleasant homes. It should be the duty of all to strive to make home so happy that each evening will furnish pleasant memories to lighten the load of another day. Make it so happy that you do not tire of it, but long for the hour when your day's toil is over, and you desire to reach it as the happiest and dearest place on earth. Parents should more earnestly consider the importance of home culture, home happiness, home love. The latter should be the ruling element, for all the household is moved by the surrounding influences, and when a spirit of love broods over the household, how kind, gentle, and considerate do all its members become!

There are some persons who apparently live more for the admiration of others than for their own household, and have a smile for all but those who should be the nearest and dearest. This is almost criminally wrong; they could take no surer course to make a complete wreck of their own happiness and the home happiness. Whatever vexatious troubles parents meet in their daily life, it is their duty no less than it should be their chief pleasure to strive, as far as possible, to throw around the home an atmosphere of joy and happiness, to make home the dearest spot on earth, so that when, with the passage of years, the children go from thence to new and untried scenes, the memory of home will bring to the heart a thrill of joyful recollections, and thus give them a new courage to take up the burden of life.

Home Duties

"And say to mothers what a holy charge

Is theirs; with what a kingly power their love

Might rule the fountains of the new-born mind;

Warn them to wake at early dawn and sow

Good seed before the world has sown its tares."

—Mrs. Sigourney.

Duty embraces man's whole existence. It begins in the home, where there is the duty which children owe to their parents on the one hand, and the duty which parents owe their children on the other. There surely can be no more important duties to ponder over long and earnestly than those relating to the home, the duty of patience, of courtesy one to the other, the interest in each other's welfare, the duty of self-control, of learning to bear and forbear.

One danger of home life springs from its familiarity. Kindred hearts at a common fireside are far too apt to relax from the proprieties of social life. Careless language and careless attire are too apt to be indulged in when the eye of the world is shut off, the ear of the world can not hear. There should be no stiffness of family etiquette, no sternness of family discipline, like that which prevailed in olden times—the day for that is passed. But the day for thorough civility and courtesy among the members of a home, the day for careful propriety of dress and address, will never pass away. It is here that the truest and most faultless social life is to be lived; it is here that such a life is to be learned. A home in which true courtesy and politeness reigns is a home from which polite men and women go forth, and they go out directly from no other. It should be remembered that it is at home, in the family, and among kindred, that an every-day politeness of manner is really most to be prized; there it confers substantial benefits and brings the sweetest returns. The little attentions which members of the same household may show towards one another, day by day, belong to what is styled "good manners." There can not be any ingrained gentility which does not exhibit itself first at home.

Children should be trained to behave at home as you would have them behave abroad. It is the home life which they act out when away. If this is rude, gruff, and lacking in civility, they will be lacking in all that constitutes true refinement, and thus most painfully reflect on the home training when in the presence of strangers. In the actions of children strangers can read a history of the home life. It tells of duty undone, of turmoil and strife, of fretful women and impatient men; or, it speaks of a home of love and peace, where patience sits enthroned in the hearts of all its members, and each is mindful of his or her duty towards the other.

Let the wives and daughters of business men think of the toils, the anxieties, the mortification and wear that fathers undergo to secure for them comfortable homes. Is it not their duty to compensate them for these trials by making them happy at their own fireside? Happy is he who can find solace and comfort at home. And husbands, too, do not think enough of the thousand trials and petty, vexatious incidents of the daily home life to which wives are subject. True, they themselves feel the harassing incidents of business, which may be of more immediate importance than the cares of home. But one large worry is preferable to many small ones. Thus it is the duty of each to remember these facts, and strive to make the home life happy by mutual self-sacrifice.

Something is wrong in those homes where the little courtesies of speech are ignored in the everyday home life. When the family gather alone around the breakfast or dinner table the same courtesy should prevail as if guests were present. Reproof, complaint, unpleasant discussion, and sarcasm, no less than moody silence, should be banished. Let the conversation be genial and suited to the little folks as far as possible. Interesting incidents of the day's experience may be mentioned at the evening meal, thus arousing the social element. If resources fail sometimes little extracts read from evening or morning papers will kindle the conversation. Scolding is never allowable; reproof and criticism from parents must have their time and place, but should never intrude so far upon the social life of the family as to render the home uncomfortable. A serious word in private will generally cure a fault more easily than many public criticisms. In some families a spirit of contradiction and discussion mars the harmony; every statement is, as it were, dissected, and the absolute correctness of every word calculated. It interferes seriously with social freedom where unimportant social inaccuracies are watched for and exposed for the sake of exposure.

Never think any thing which affects the happiness of your children too small a matter to claim your attention. Use every means in your power to win and retain their confidence. Do not rest satisfied without some account of each day's joys or sorrows. It is a source of great comfort to the innocent child to tell all its troubles to mother, and the mother should haste to lend a willing ear. Soothe and quiet its little heart after the experience of the day. It has had its disappointments and trials, as well as its plays and pleasures; it is ready to throw its arms around the mother's neck, and forgetting the one live again the other. Always send the little child to bed happy. Whatever cares may trouble your mind give the little one a good-night kiss as it goes to its pillow. The memory of this in the stormy years which may be in store for it will be like Bethlehem's star to the bewildered shepherd, and the heart will receive a fresh inspiration of courage at the thrill of youthful memories.

The domestic fireside is a seminary of infinite importance. It is important because it is universal, and because the education it bestows, woven with the woof of childhood, gives color to the whole texture of life. Early impressions are not easily erased; the virgin wax is faithful to the signet, and subsequent impressions serve rather to indent the former one. There are but few who can receive the honors of a college education, but all are graduates of the heart. The learning of the university may fade from recollection, its classic lore may be lost from the halls of memory; but the simple lessons of home, enameled upon the heart of childhood, defy the rust of years, and outlive the more mature but less vivid pictures of after days. So deep, so lasting are the impressions of early life that you often see a man in the imbecility of age holding fresh in his recollection the events of childhood, while all the wide space between that and the present hour is a forgotten waste.

Those parents act most wisely who have forethought enough to provide not only for the youth, but for the age of their offspring; who teach them usefulness, and not to expect too much from the world; to become early familiarized with the stern and actual realities of life, and never to be apes of fashion nor parasites of greatness. Parents, then, should educate their children not merely in scholastic acquirements, but in a knowledge of the respective positions they are to occupy when they become men and women. Educate them to the duties that the world will require of them when they arrive at that long looked for period when they will have reached maturity, and enter into the game that every person must play during his existence in the world. Educate the girl to the intricate duties that will be required of her as a wife and mother, and to the position she is to occupy in society, and that it rests with herself whether it shall be exalted or whether it shall be debased and lowly. Educate the boy to a knowledge of what the busy world will require of him; teach him self-reliance and all manly attributes.

A knowledge of the world is more than necessary to enable us to live in it wisely, and this knowledge should commence in the nursery. It must be remembered that the largest and most important part of the education of children, whether for good or evil, is carried on at home, often unconsciously in their amusements, and under the daily influence of what they see and hear about them. It is there that subtle brains and lissome fingers find scope and learn to promote the well-being of the community. One can not tell what duties their children may be called to perform in after life. They must teach them to cultivate their faculties, and to exercise all their senses to choose the good and refuse the evil.

Above all things, teach children what life is. It is not simply breathing and moving. Life is a battle, and all thoughtful people see it so,—a battle between good and evil from childhood. Good influence drawing us up toward the divine, bad influence drawing us down to the brute. Teach children that they lead two lives, the life without and the life within; that the inside must be pure in the sight of God, as well as the outside in the sight of man. Educate them, then, to love the good and true, and remember that every word spoken within the hearing of little children tends toward the formation of character. Teach little children to love the beautiful. If you are able, give them a corner in the garden for flowers, allow them to have their favorite trees. Teach them to wander in the prettiest woodlets, show them where they best can view the sunset. Buy them pictures, and encourage them to deck their rooms in their childish way. Thus may the mother weave into the life of her children thoughts and feelings, rich, beautiful, grand, and noble, which will make all after life brighter and better.

The duties of children to parents are far too little considered. As the children grow up the parents lean on them much earlier than either imagine. In the passage of years the children gain experience and strength. But with the parents! The cares of a long life bow the form, and the strong are again made weak. It is now that the duties of children assume their grandest forms. It is not sufficient to simply give them a home to make their declining years comfortable. While supplying their physical wants, their hearts may be famishing for some expression of love from you. If you think they have outgrown these desires, you are mistaken. Every little attention you can show your mother—your escort to Church or concert, or for a quiet walk—brings back the youth of her heart; her cheeks glow with pleasure, and she feels happy for such a dutiful son. The father, occupied and absorbed as he may be, is not wholly indifferent to the filial expressions of devoted love. He may pretend to care but very little for them; but, having faith in their sincerity, it would give him pain were they entirely withheld. Fathers need their sons quite as much as the sons need the fathers; but in how many deplorable instances do they fail to find in them a staff for their declining years!

You may disappoint the ambition of your parents, you may be unable to distinguish yourself as you fondly hoped; but let this not swerve you from a determination to be a son of whose moral character they need never be ashamed. Begin early to cultivate a habit of thoughtfulness and consideration for others, especially for those you are commanded to honor. Can you begrudge a few extra steps for the mother who never stopped to number those you demanded during your helpless infancy? Have you the heart to slight her requests or treat her remarks with indifference, when you can not begin to measure the patient devotion with which she bore your peculiarities? Anticipate her wants, invite her confidence, be prompt to offer assistance, express your affections as heartily as you did when a child, that the mother may never have occasion to grieve in secret for the child she has lost.

Aim of Life

It is the aim that makes the man, and without this he is nothing as far as the utter destitution of force, weight, and even individuality among men can reduce him to nonentity. The strong gusts and currents of the world sweep him this way and that, without steam or sail to impel, or helm to guide him. If he be not speedily wrecked or run aground, it is more his good fortune than good management. We have never heard a more touching confession of utter weakness and misery than these words from one singularly blessed with the endowments of nature and of Providence: "My life is aimless."

Take heed, young man, of an aimless life. Take heed, too, of a low and sordid aim. A well-ascertained and generous purpose gives vigor, direction, and perseverance to all man's efforts. Its concomitants are a well-disciplined intellect, character, influence, tranquillity, and cheerfulness within—success and honor without. Whatever a man's talents and advantages may be, with no aim, or a low one, he is weak and despicable; and he can not be otherwise than respectable and influential with a high one. Without some definite object before us, some standard which we are earnestly striving to reach, we can not expect to attain to any great height, either mentally or morally. Placing for ourselves high standards, and wishing to reach them without any further effort on our part, is not enough to elevate us in any very great degree.

Some one has said, "Nature holds for each of us all that we need to make us useful and happy; but she requires us to labor for all that we get." God gives nothing of value unto man unmatched by need of labor; and we can expect to overcome difficulties only by strong and determined efforts. Here is a great and noble work lying just before us, just as the blue ocean lies out beyond the rocks which line the shore. In our strivings for "something better than we have known" we should work for others' good rather than our own pleasure. Those whose object in life is their own happiness find at last that their lives are sad failures.

We need to do something each day that shall help us to a larger life of soul; and every word or deed which brings joy or gladness to other hearts lifts us nearer a perfect life; for a noble deed is a step toward God. To live for something worthy of life involves the necessity of an intelligent and definite plan of action. More than splendid dreamings or magnificent resolves is necessary to success in the objects and ambitions of life. Men come to the best results in every department of effort only as they thoughtfully plan and earnestly toil in given directions. Purposes without work is dead. It were vain to hope for good results from mere plans. Random or spasmodic efforts, like aimless shoots, are generally no better than wasted time or strength. The purposes of shrewd men in the business of this life are always followed by careful plans, enforced by work. Whether the object is learning, honor, or wealth, the ways and means are always laid out according to the best rules and methods. The mariner has his chart, the architect his plans, the sculptor his model, and all as a means and condition of success. Inventive genius, or even what is called inspiration, can do little in any department of the theoretic or practical science except as it works by a well-formed plan; then every step is an advance towards the accomplishment of its object. Every tack of the ship made in accordance with nautical law keeps her steadily nearing the port. Each stroke of the chisel brings the marble into a clearer likeness to the model. No effort or time is lost; for nothing is done rashly or at random.

Thus, in the grand aim of life, if some worthy purpose be kept constantly in view, and for its accomplishment every effort be made every day of your life, you will, unconsciously, perhaps, approach the goal of your ambition. There can be no question among the philosophic observers of men and events that fixedness of purpose is a grand element of human success. When a man has formed in his mind a great sovereign purpose, it governs his conduct as the laws of nature govern the operation of physical things.

Every one should have a mark in view, and pursue it steadily. He should not be turned from his course by other objects ever so attractive. Life is not long enough for any one man to accomplish every thing. Indeed, but few can at best accomplish more than one thing well. Many—alas! very many—accomplish nothing. Yet there is not a man, endowed with ordinary intellect or accomplishments, but can accomplish at least one useful, important, worthy purpose. It was not without reason that some of the greatest of men were trained from their youth to choose some definite object in life, to which they were required to direct their thoughts and to devote all their energies. It became, therefore, a sole and ruling purpose of their hearts, and was almost certainly the means of their future advancement and happiness in the world.

Of the thousands of men who are annually coming upon the stage of life there are few who escape the necessity of adopting some profession or calling; and there are fewer still who, if they knew the miseries of idleness—tenfold keener and more numerous than those of the most laborious profession—would ever desire such an escape. First of all, a choice of business or occupation should be made, and made early, with a wise reference to capacity and taste. The youth should be educated for it and, as far as possible, in it; and when this is done it should be pursued with industry, energy, and enthusiasm, which will warrant success.

This choice of an occupation depends partly upon the individual preference and partly upon circumstances. It may be that you are debarred from entering upon that business for which you are best adapted. In that case make the best choice in your power, apply yourself faithfully and earnestly to whatever you undertake, and you can not well help achieving a success. Patient application sometimes leads to great results. No man should be discouraged because he does not get on rapidly in his calling from the start. In the more intellectual professions especially it should be remembered that a solid character is not the growth of a day, that the mental faculties are not matured except by long and laborious culture.

To refine the taste, to fortify the reasoning faculty with its appropriate discipline, to store the cells of memory with varied and useful learning, to train all the powers of the mind systematically, is the work of calm and studious years. A young man's education has been of but little use to him if it has not taught him to check the fretful impatience, the eager haste to drink the cup of life, the desire to exhaust the intoxicating draught of ambition. He should set his aim so high that it will require patient years of toil to reach it. If he can reach it at a bound it is unworthy of him. It should be of such a nature that he feels the necessity of husbanding his resources.

You will receive all sorts of the most excellent advice, but you must do your own deciding. You have to take care of yourself in this world, and you may as well take your own way of doing it. But if a change of business is desired be sure the fault is with the business and not the individual. For running hither and thither generally makes sorry work, and brings to poverty ere the sands of life are half run. The North, South, East, and West furnish vast fields for enterprise; but of what avail for the seeker to visit the four corners of the world if he still is dissatisfied, and returns home with empty pockets and idle hands, thinking that the world is wrong and that he himself is a misused and shamefully imposed-on creature? The world, smiling at the rebuff, moves on, while he lags behind, groaning over misusage, without sufficient energy to roll up his sleeves and fight his way through.

A second profession seldom succeeds, not because a man may not make himself fully equal to its duties, but because the world will not readily believe he is so. The world argues thus: he that has failed in his first profession, to which he dedicated the morning of his life and the Spring-time of his exertion, is not the most likely person to master a second. To this it might be replied that a man's first profession is often chosen for him by others; his second he usually decides upon for himself; therefore, his failure in his first profession may, for what he knows, be mainly owing to the sincere but mistaken attention he was constantly paying to his second.

Ever remember that it is not your trade or profession that makes you respectable. Manhood and profession or handicraft are entirely different things. An occupation is never an end of life. It is an instrument put into our hands by which to gain for the body the means of living until sickness or old age robs it of life, and we pass on to the world for which this is a preparation. The great purpose of living is twofold in character. The one should never change from the time reason takes the helm; it is to live a life of manliness, of purity and honor. To live such a life that, whether rich or poor, your neighbors will honor and respect you as a man of sterling principles. The other is to have some business, in the due performance of which you are to put forth all your exertions. It matters not so much what it is as whether it be honorable, and it may change to suit the varying change of circumstances. When these two objects—character and a high aim—are fairly before a youth, what then? He must strive to attain those objects. He must work as well as dream, labor as well as pray. His hand must be as stout as his heart, his arm as strong as his head. Purpose must be followed by action. Then is he living and acting worthily, as becomes a human being with great destinies in store for him.

Success or Failure

Mankind every-where are desirous of achieving a success, of making the most of life. At times, it is true, they act as if they little cared what was the outcome of their exertions. But even in the lives of the most abandoned and reckless there are moments when their good angel points out to them the heights to which they might ascend, that a wish arises for

"Something better than they have known."

But, alas! they have not the will to make the necessary exertions.

We are confronted with two ends—success or failure. To win the former it requires of us labor and perseverance. We must remember that those who start for glory must imitate the mettled hounds of Acton, and must pursue the game not only where there is a path, but where there is none. They must be able to simulate and to dissimulate; to leap and to creep; to conquer the earth like Cæsar; to fall down and kiss it like Brutus; to throw their sword, like Brennus, into the trembling scale; or, like Nelson, to snatch the laurels from the doubtful hand of victory while she is hesitating where to bestow them. He that would win success in life must make Perseverance his bosom friend, Experience his wise counselor, Caution his elder brother, and Hope his guardian genius. He must not repine because the fates are sometimes against him, but when he trips or falls let him, like Cæsar when he stumbled on shore, stumble forward, and, by escaping the omen, change its nature and meaning. Remembering that those very circumstances which are apt to be abused as the palliatives of failure are the true tests of merit, let him gird up his loins for whatever in the mysterious economy of the future may await him. Thus will he rise superior to ill-fortune, and becoming daily more and more impassive to its attacks, will learn to force his way in spite of it, till, at last, he will be able to fashion his luck to his will.

"Life is too short," says a shrewd thinker, "for us to waste one moment in deploring our lot. We must go after success, since it will not come to us, and we have no time to spare." If you wish to succeed, you must do as you would to get in through a crowd to a gate all are anxious to reach—hold your ground and push hard; to stand still is to give up the battle. Give your energies to the highest employment of which your nature is capable. Be alive, be patient, work hard, watch opportunities, be rigidly honest, hope for the best; and if you are not able to reach the goal of your ambition, which is possible in spite of your utmost efforts, you will die with the consciousness of having done your best, which is after all the truest success to which man can aspire.

As manhood dawns and the young man catches its first lights, the pinnacles of realized dreams, the golden domes of high possibilities, and the purpling hills of great delights, and then looks down upon the narrow, sinuous, long, and dusty paths by which others have reached them, he is apt to be disgusted with the passage, and to seek for success through broader channels and by quicker means. To begin at the foot of the hills and work slowly to the top seems a very discouraging process, and here it is that thousands of young men have made shipwreck of their lives. There is no royal road to success. The path lies through troubles and discouragements. It lies through fields of earnest, patient labor. It calls on the young man to put forth energy and determination. It bids him build well his foundation, but it promises in reward of this a crowning triumph.

There never was a time in the world's history when high success in any profession or calling demanded harder or more earnest labor than now. It is impossible to succeed in a hurry. Men can no longer go at a single leap into eminent positions. As those articles are most highly prized to attain which requires the greatest amount of labor, so the road that leads to success is long and rugged. What matter if a round does break or a foot slip; such things must be expected, and being expected, they must be overcome. Rome was not built in a day; but proofs of her magnificent temples are still to be seen. We each prepare a temple to last through all eternity. A structure to last so long, can it take but a day to build it? The days of a life-time are necessary to build the monument mightier than Rome and more enduring than adamant. It is hard, earnest work, step by step, that secures success; and while energy and perseverance are securing the prize for steady workers, others, sitting down by the wayside, are wondering why they, too, can not be successful. They surely forget that the true key is labor, and that nothing but a strong, resolute will can turn it.

The secret of one's success or failure is usually contained in answer to the question, "How earnest is he?" Success is the child of confidence and perseverance. The talent of success is simply doing what you can do well, and doing well whatever you do, without a thought of fame. Success is the best test of capacity, and materially confirms us in a favorable opinion of ourselves. Success in life is the proper and harmonious development of those faculties which God has given us. Whatever you try to do in life, try with all your heart to do it well; whatever you devote yourself to, devote yourself to it completely. Never believe it possible that any natural ability can claim immunity from companionship of the steady, plain, hard-working qualities, and hope to gain its end. There can be no such fulfillment on this earth. Some happy talent and some fortunate opportunity may form the sides of the ladder on which some men mount; but the rounds of the ladder must be made of material to stand wear and tear, and there is no substitute for thorough-going, ardent, sincere earnestness. Never put your hand on any thing into which you can not throw your whole self; never affect depreciation of your own work, whatever it is.

The Golden Gems of Life; Or, Gathered Jewels for the Home Circle