IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) A {/ ^ 'ks 4^. /. 1.0 1.1 1.25 m 50 ^^" 25 22 ■ 2.0 1.8 if U il.6 4^. ^ 7 ^4 '/ /A XV^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Instituta for Historical Microreproductions Institut Canadian de microreproductions historlques 1980 Technical Notes / Notes techniques The institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Physical features of this copy which may alter any of the images in the reproduction are checked below. D D Coloured covers/ Couvertures de couleur Coloured maps/ Cartes giographiques en couleur L'institut a microfilm^ ie mellleur exemplaire qu'il lui a AtA possible de se procurer. Certains dAfauts susceptibles de nuire A la quaiitA de ia reproduction sont notAs ci-dessous. 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La diagramme suivant illustre la mAthoda : 1 2 3 1 a 3 4 • 6 f Si EMM ir«m m um. i I pi- '■n THE ROYAL PATH OF LIFE; OR, AIMS AND AIDS TO SUCCESS AND HAPPIlffiSS. COMPILED FKOW -nrE BEST AniHORS. AUCIENT AND MODSKy. WITH AN INI'RODUOTIO.S- BY KEY. JOHN POTTS, D.D. tAMtOVL MKrBOPOUITAM OHOtOH. Uorouto; a. M. ROSE 6c SONS. m 187? SOLD ONLY BY SUBSCRIPTION. WHEN you KNOW OF NO AGENT IN YOUR VICINITY . . ■ • • • • THIS VOLUME Will be promptly sent you, post paid, on receipt of its price, $2.00, if directed to the address at foot of the title page. No copies sold ai: less than retail price, except in lots to active agents. AGENTS WANTED, NOT FOR SALE IN BOOK STORES. I ■^1 Introduction. HIS book, designated " Thb Royal Path or Lrm," sbonld be posBeflsed of royal elimentt; to be wt>rthy of toch a dignifie .. ^'.« ■>-jS Preface. I jf :--^il I'HFi irabject matter of this book, Suooeas and Hsppinew, v||9> baa been the considenition of every eminent pen, from the days of Solouion to the present. To aay anythin^^ strictly new would be impossible ; nor woald we presume that our knowledge and experience would be as valuable as the maxims of the wise and sublime truths which have become a part of the standarfl literatura The best, therefore, that any one can expect cO do is to recombine the experience of the past, and compile such thoughts and extracts as have chimed in with the testimony of earnest and aspiring minds, and offer them in a novel and fascinating form, in the words of the poet : " We have ^tbared posim froii other men's flowwi, Nothing bnt the thread that biuUDt '^ TOOTB W HoM> <0 Family Womhu ^7 Horn ItrTLURHOI f>1 Horn AursnnorfB M To Yotwo Mm W To YoDiro Wotmr M Daoobtsb AHoButn 70 AJMOoiAm 74 InVLOBKCm M W Habit « ooicpajit '•••• '4 FOMfli or CHAAAOmk M IvraoBiTT W PooB BoT8 Aim Simmvoi 65 OoouFAnoB IW EKHiOTiaVE 104 Tbob Grbatmbsb 106 iDbBitna ...ikM Sduoatiob ill Orrovenmm 116 BrABB MOHBBTB. 118 Books m 121 Rbadibo 126 PnSBVBBAJiai 13S Plook .MMM«>««< 137 SlLf Bbuabob 140 Laboob 144 Knbbot , 100 Look abdPumb ...m PnnrufiB AjroWiu I'M) ConBAOB IflB LrrriJi Tbuw 1UiACTa 196 PBIKCtPLB AND HiSKt WO Valcx (*y KjiP9TAno* 308 Famb too AHBinoir , 107 AVABIOB 909 Oamblino M Bl TBMnn tl4 AM6BB , fU OwmtWAOT.... S3 Htpooribt 294 FBcmHo Aim OBmrauvo 227 Fault FunuNa • 232 Ektt 236 Slakdbb ^ 290 V.kNiTt 243 Ifura.... ato Vofti AKD Dabdum 20O Fashiob 203 Dbbmi 280 ChcbchDbbm 90 MAJfKBBB ^ 208 Tub Tbub Qwnuaua .JTO Wh 94 TBim J70 JUDOHBBf J79 Patibhui . •.*•.«••... .••.•»4.. OoBTBBxmyri «..»^«.>«.»««>» , via OOJUTJiXTa. I I VAOa Otaaaswumm 290 HiJ>PiVB88 295 Obatitodi 297 Hon 299 OHABirr 303 KuTDimB 306 FaaamsRST 311 '^OIIBTBHIP 315 FuB«are 319 Baohsu>bm 321 tmrLOKiaB or MATBuioirr 324 Ax>TAHTAua or Matbimokt 330 Tomro Mnr avd Matbihont 332 Tons o Ladhs amv M ATRiMoirr . . . 338 Levi 343 Matbikobt 348 TBSOoHJtTOAl RCLATIOH 364 Haaajoro axd Wtn 359 Jot 365 BlATTTT 368 liono 373 HovouB , S7< rj Onnua aitd TAiMin 380 TniHKiBS m BlNBFAOrOBS OB Hauvaotou . . .381 Tbiai^ or Lm 308 SioKinsa Mi Tbabb 187 SOBBO w J8B SoBBOwnro roB 'nn 2)B4D 405 AnvxBBiirT 408 Dkbt 431 FAILtJBI « 415 Dksfatb 417 STKPPIHO-nOinB 419 Pbatbb ..411 Tbkrb 18 A God 4K Thb Bnu 4X7 Beuoiow 4S8 lUKOBTALITT 48B DoiBo Good 487 WnxDoDM 441 OldAos M 4B1 DsAtH 4M -H # TH« EoYAL Path of Life. M |i&. ^ 'E point to two ways in life, and if tbe yoong man and maiden, whose feet are lingering in soft green meadow* and flowery paths, will consider these two ways soberly a&d earnestly, bf^fore moving onward, &nd choose the one that truth and reason tell them i«ada to honour, success, and happi- ness, theyhave wisely chosen the"RoyalPath of Life." The other way is too well known to need description. It is a sad thing,afte(r the lapse of twenty years, to find ourselves amid ruined h ipea; —to sit down with folded hands and say, " Thus far lif h has been a failure " I Yet, to how many is this the wretched sum- ming up at the end of a single score of years from the time that reason takes the helm ! Alas ! that so few who start Avrong ever succeed in finding the " Royal Path ;" life proving, even to its last burdened years, a millstone about the neck. Dear reader, life is a * Royal Path," and to you it shall be a millstone about your neck« or a diadem on your brow. Decide at once upon a noble purpose, then take it up bravely, bear it off joyfully, lay it down triumphantly. Your greatest inheri- tance is a purpoee in pursuit of which you will find employ ment and happiness, for " The bosT vorld ahorm •agrilj &side The man who stands with arms akimbo mI Until oomsioD teii* him what to do ; Aad he who waata to hare his task marked oat Shall dim tad Inva his arnad unfulfillad.* 10 LIFE. Life is not mean — it is grand. If it is mean to any, htf makes it so. Qod made it glorious. Its channel He paved with diamonds. Its banks He fringed with flowers. He over- arched it with stars. Around it He spread the glory of the physical universe — suns, moons, worlds, conatellations, sjrstemi — all that is magnificent in motion, sublime in magnitude, and grand in order and obedi mce. God would not have attended life with this broad march of grandeur, if it did not mean some- thing. He would not have descended to the blade of grass, the dew-drop, and the dust-atom, if every moment of life were not a letter to spell out some word that should bear the bur- den of a thought. How much life means, words refuse to tell, because they can not. Tho very doorway of life is hung around with flowery emblems, to indicate that it is for some purpose. The mystery of our being, the necessity of action, the relation of cause to effect, the dependence of one thing upon another, the mutual influence and affinity of all things assure us that life is for a purpose to which every outward thing doth point. The trees with leaves " like a shield or like a sword " wage vigorous warfare with the elements. They bend under the wind, make music of it, then stand up again and grow nore stalwartly straight up toward the heart of the heavens. A man is to learn of the oak, and cling to his plans as it to its leaves till pushed off by new ones ; and be as tenaciovis of life, when lopt, sending up branches straight as the old trunk, and when cut off, sending up a brood of young oaks, crowning the stump with vigorous defenders. He that floats lazily down the stream, in pursuit of something borne along by the same current, will find himself indeed movod forward ; but unless he lays his hand to the oar, and incre;ises his speed by his own labour, must bo always at the same distance from that which he is following. In oui- voyage of life we muat not drift but ateer. Every youth should form, at the outset of his career, the solemn purpose to make the most and the best of trie powers which God has f^iyen him, and to turn to the best |K>ssible ac- g| LIFB. 11 ■m ocmiit every out Nvard advantage within his reach. This pur- pose must carr}"^ with it the assent of the reason, the ap- proval of the conscience, the sober judgment of the iAtellect. It should then embody within itself whatever is vehement in desire, inspiring in hope, thrilling in enthusiasm, and intense in desperate resolve. Such & plan of life will save him from many a damaging contest with temptation. It will regulate his sports and recreations. It will go with him by day to trample under foot the allurements of pleasure. It will hold his eyes waking as he toils by the evening lamp. It will watch over his slumbers to jog him at the appointed hour, and summon him to the cheerful duties of his chosen pursuit* Those who study and labour under the inspiration of such a purpose, will soon soar out of sight of those who barely allow themselves to be carried along by the momentum of the machin- ery to which they are attached. Many pass through life without even a consciousness of where they are, and what they are, and what tht are doing. They gase on whatever lies directly before them, "in fond amusement lost." Human life is a watchtower. It is the clear purpose of God that every one — the young especially — should take their stand on this tower. Look, listen, learn, wherever you go, wherever you tarry. Sometliing is always transpiring to reward your attention. Let your eyes and ears be always open, and you will often observe, in the slightest incidents, materials of advantage and means of personal improvement. In nothing is childhood more strongly distinguished from manhood than this, that the child has no purpose, no plan of life, no will by which his energies are directed. He lives, in a great measure, to enjoy the passing scene, and to find his hap- piness in those agreeable consciousnesses which from hour to hour come to him by chanca If his life is governed by a plan, a purpose, it is the purpose of another — not hi« own. The man has his own purpose, his own plan, his own life and aim. The sorrowful experience of multitudes in this respect is that they are never men, but children all their days. Think out your ^■^ '% IS LIFB. work, then work out your thought. No one can pui-sue a wor- thy object, with all the powers of his mind, and 3'et make hik life a failure. A man may work in the dark, yet one day light shall arise upon his labour ; and though he may neVer, with his own lips, declare the victory complete, some day others will behold in his life-work the traces of a great and thinking mind. 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 tjusk of perfcming a merry part in it — as though the world had waited for your coming. Take it as though it was a grand opportunity to do and to achieve, to cany forward great and good schemes ; to help and cheer a flufFering, weary, it may be a heart-broken, brother. The fact is, life is undervalued by a gieat majority of mankind. It is not made half as much of as should be the case. Now and then a man stands aside from the crowd, labours earnestly, steadfastly, confidently, and straightway becomes famous for wisdom, intellect, skill, greatness of some sort. The world wonders, admires, idolizes; and yet it only illustrates what each may do if he takes hold of life with a purpose. One way is right to go ; the hero sees it and moves on that aim and has the world under him for foot and support. His approbation is honour, his dissent infamy. Man was sent into the world to be a growing and exhaustless force. The world was spread out around him to be seized and conquered. Realms of infinite truth burst open above him, inviting him to tread those shin- ing coasts along which Newton dropped his plummet and Her- schel sailed, — a Columbus of the skies. Some, because they • have once or twice met with rebuffs, sink in discouragement. Such should know, that our own errors may often teach us more than the grave precepts of others. We counsel the young man never to despair. If he can make nothing by a-ny vvork that presents itself now, he can at least make himself ; or what is equivalent, he can save himself from the sure death of a pus- illauimous, halting, irresolute spirit. Niver be cast down by ■f LIFB. 13 misfortunes. If a spider break his web, over and over he will mend it igain. And do not you fall beliind the very insect on vour yraXi*. If the sun is going down, look up to the stars ; if earth is dark, keep your eye on heaven. With the presence and promise of God, we can bear up under anything ; and should press on, and never falter or fear. It is my firm conviction that man has only himself to blame if his life appears to him at anytime void of interest and of pleasure. Man may make life what he pleases and give it as much worth, both for himself and others, as he has energy for. Over his moral and intellectual being his sway is complete. The first great mistake that men fall into is that they do not use integi'ity and trutli and good sense in judging of what they are fit for. They take the things that they want, and not the things that they deserve. They aspire after things that are pleasing to their ambition, and not after things to which they are adapted by their capacity. And when a man is brought in- to a sphere of his ambition for which he has not the requisite powers, and where he is goaded on every side in the discharge of his duties, his temptatl(m is at once to make up by fraud and appearance that which he lacks in reality. Men are seen going across-lots to fortune ; and a poor business many of them make of it. Oftentimes they lose their way ; and when they do not, they find so many hills and valleys, so many swells and depressions, so many risings and fallings, so many ups and downs, that though by an air-line the distance might be shorter, in reality the distance is greater than by the lawful route ; and when they come back they are ragged and poor and mean. There is a gi'cat deal of going across-lots to make a beggar of a man's self in this \. o. !d. Whereas the old-fashioned homely law that the man who was to establish himself in life must take time to lay the foundations of reality, and gradually and steadily build thereon, holds good yet Though you slur it over and cover it up with fantasies, and find it almost impossible to believe it, it is so. B«ly not upon others ; but let there be in your own bosom 14 MAN AND WOMAN. l\ a calm, deep, decided, and all-porvading principle. Look &Kt, midst, and last to God, to aid you in the great task before you ; and then plant jour foot on the right. Let others live as they please — tainted by low tastes, debasing passions, a moral pu- trefaction. Be you the salt of the earth ; mcorrupt in your deeds, in your inmost thoughts and feelings. Nay more, in- corruptible, like virtue herself ; your manners blameless ; your views of duty, not narrow, false and destructive, but a savour of life to all around you. Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with the salt of truth, honour, manliness, and benevo- lence. Wait not for the lash of guilt to scourge you to the path of God and heaven. Be of the prudent who foresee the evil and hide themselves from it ; and not of the simple, who pass on and are punished. Life, to youth, is a fairy tale just opened ; to old age, a tale read through, ending in death. Be wise in time, that you may be happy in eternity. ! \'f iwx wxb ml0ittatY. ■$ 1^ AN is bold- -woman is beautiful. Man is courageous — woman is timid, Man labours in the field — woman at home. Man talks to persuade — woma] o please, Man has a daring heart — woman a tender loving one. Man has power — woman taste. Man has justice — womai has mercj'. Man has strength — woman love; while man combats with the enemy, struggles with the world, woman is waiting to prepare his repast and sweeten his existence. He has crosses, and the partner of his couch is there to soften them ; his days may be sad and troubled, but in the chaste arms of his wife he finds comfort and repose. Without woman, man would be rude, gross, solitary. Woman spreads around him the flowers of existence, as the creepers of the forests, which decorate the trunks of sturdy oaks with their MAN AND WOMAN, If perfumed garlands. Finally, the Christian pair live and die onited ; together they rear the fruits of their union ; in the duat they lie side by side ; and they are reunited beyond the limits of the tomb. Man has his strength and the exercise of his power ; he is busy, goes about, occupies his attention, thinks, looks forward to the future, and finds consolation in it ; but woman btays at home, remains face to face with her son-ow, from which nothing distracts her ; she descends to the very depths of the abyss it has opened, measures it, and often fills it with her vows and tears. To feel, to love, to suflfer, to devote herself, will always be the text of the life of woman. Man has a precise and dis- tinct language, the word being luminous speech. Woman pos- sesses a peculiarly musical and magical language, interspersing the words with song. Woman is affectionate and suffers ; she is constantly in need of something to lean upon, like the honey- suckle upon the tree or fence. Man is attached to the fireside, by his affection for her, and the happiness it gives him to pro- tect and support her. Superior and inferior to man, humiliated by the heavy hand of nature, but at tht same time inspired hy intuitions of a higher order than man can ever experience, she has fascinated him, innocently bewitched him forever. And man has remained enchanted by the spelL Women are gener- ally better creatures than men. Perhaps they have, taken universally, weaker appetites and weaker intellects, but they have much stronger affections. A man with a bad heart has been sometimes saved by a strong head ; but a corrupt woman is lost forever. One has well said : "We will say nothing of the manner in which that sex. usually conduct an argument ; but the intuitive Judgments of women are often more to be relied upon than the conclusions which we reach by an elaborate process of reason- ing. No man that has an intelligent wife, or who is accustomed to the society of educated women, will dispute this. Times without number, you must have known them decide questions on the instant, and with unerring accuracy, which you had ^ le MAN AND WOMAN. been poring over for hours, perhaps, with no other result than to find yourself getting deeper and deeper into the tangled ma^e of doubts and difficulties. It were hardly generous to allege that they achieve these leats less by reasoning than by a sort of sagacity which approximates to the sure instinct of ihe animal races ; and yet, there seems to be some ground for the remark of a witty French writer, that, when a man has toiled step by step up a flight of stairs, he will be sure to find a woman at the top ; but she will not be able to teli how she got there. How she got there, however, is of little moment." It is peculiar with what a degree of tact woman will deter- mine whether a man is honest or not. She cannot give you the reason for such an opinion, only that she does not like the looks of the man, and feels that he is dishonest. A servant comes for employment, she looks him in the face and says he is dis- honest. He gives good references, and you employ him ; he robs you — ^you may be quite sure he will do that. Years after, another man comes ; the same lady look", ^im in the face, and says he, too, is not honest ; she says so, again, fresh from hei mere insight ; but you, also, say he is not honest. You say, I remember I had a servant with just the same look about him, three years ago, and he robbed me. This is one great distinction of the female intellect ; it walks directly and unconsciously, by more delicate insight and a more refined and a more trusted in- tuition, to an end to which men's minds grope carefully and ploddingly along. Women have exercised a most beneficial in- fluence in softening the hard and untruthful outline which knowledge is apt to assume in the hands of direct scientific ob- servers and experiraentera ; they have prevented the casting aside of a mass of most valuable truth, which is too fine to be caught in the material sieve, and eludes the closest questioning of the microsope and the t»».st-glass , which is allied with our passions, our feelings ; and especially holds the fine boundary* line where mind and matter, sense and spirit, wave their float- ing and undistinguishabie boundaries, and exercise their com* plex action and reaction. MAN AND WOMAN. IT When a women is possessed of a high degree of taot, she sees, as hj a kind of second sic^ht, when any little emergency is like- ly to occur, or when to use a more familiar expression, things do not seem to go right. She is thus aware of any suddeii turn in conversation, and prepared for what it may lead to ; but above all, she can penetrate into the state of mind of those she is placed in contact with, so as tx) detect the gathering gloom upon another's brow, before the mental storm sh.all have reached any formidable height ; to know when the tone of voice has altered ; when any unwelcome thought shall have presented it- self, and when the pulse of feeling is beating higher or lower, in consequence of some apparently trifling circumstance which has just transpired. In such and innumerable other instances of much the same character, woman, with her tact, will notice clearly the fluctuations which constantly change the feeling of social life, and she can change the current of feeling suddenly and in such a way that no one detects her ; thus, by the power which her nature give^ Ler, she saves society the pain and an- noyance which arise very frequently from trifles or the mis- management of some one possessing less tact and social adapt- ation. Man is the creature of interest and ambition. His nature leads him forth into the struggle and bustle of the world. Love is but the embellishment of his early life, or a song piped in the intervals of the acts. He seeks for fame, for fortune, for space in the world's thought, and dominion over his fellow-men. But a woman's whole life is the history of the aflfections. The heart is her world ; it is there her ambition strives for empire ; it is there her avarice seeks for hidden treasures. She sends forth her sympathies on adventure ; she embarks her whole soul in the traflSc of aflTection ; and if shipwrecked, her case is hopeless, for it is the bankruptcy of the heart. To a man, the disappointment of love may occasion soma bitter \)&ngs ; it wounds some feehngs of tenderness ; it blasts some prospects of felicity; but he is an active being; he may dissi- pate his thoughts in the whirl of varied occupation.or may i)lunge wgj!^o«is-.J7fr'' ' -i* ■ ■ ■■^**^^ ^skfl?*'- ■■' n\i:--'' ^;/fy^;- ^.f,'».V,.»'»>" 'T^ 18 MAN AND WOMAN. into the tide of pleasure ; or, if the scene of disappointment be too full of painful associations, he can shift his abode at will, and taking, as it were, the wings of morning, can " tiy to the utter- most pa- ts of the earth, and be at rest," We find man the cap stone of the climax of paradoxes ; a com- plex budget of contradictions ; a heterogeneous compound of good and evil ; the noblest work of God bespattered by Lucifer ; an immortal being, cleaving to things not eternal ; a rational being, violating reason; an animal with discretion, glutting, instead of prudently feeding, appetite ; an original harmonious compact violating order and revelling in confusion. Man is immortal without realizing it ; rational, but often deaf to reason; an animal, transgressing the law of appetite ; a combination of noble powers, waging civil war, robbing, instead of aiding each other ; yet, like the Siamese twins, compelled to remain in the same apartment. They were created allies, lo promote their own happiness and the glory of their king ; but Beelzebub, the first rebel against heaven, has made them conspirators. Appe- tite is led astray by pleasure ; they first stupefy, then dethrone reason; immortality becomes paralyzed, and loses sight of things eternal — stupefied reason and voracious appetite run riot, and depose the soul, all these fall into the ditch togethor — the natural consequence of violating the law of common sense, reason, and revelation. The following shows the love, tenderness, and fortitude of women. The letter, which was bedimmed with tears, was written before the husband was aware that death was fixing its grasp upon the lovely companion, and laid in a book which he was wont to peruse : "When this shall reach your eyes dear G , some day when you are turning over the relics of the past, I shall have passed away forever, and the cold white stone will be keeping its lonely watch over lips you have so often pressed, and the sod will be growing green that shall hide forever from your eight the dust of one who has so often nestled close to your warm heart. For many long and sleepless nights, when all my MAN AND WOMAN. If thought-a wer* at rest, I havo wrestled with the consciousnefw of approaching death, until at iant it has forced iteelf on my mind. Although to you and to e»i.'.ers it might now seem but the nervous imagination of a girl, yet, dear G , it is so I Many weary hours have I passed in the endeavour to reconcile myself to leaving you, whom I love so well, and this bright world of sunshine and beauty ; and hard indeed it is to strug- gle on silently and alone, with the sure conviction that 1 am about to leave forever and go down alone into the dark valley. * But I know in whom I havo trusted,' and, leaning upon His arm, ' I fear no evil.* Don't blame me for keeping even all this from 3'ou. How could I subject you, of all others, to such a sorrow as I feel at parting, when time will soon make it ap- parent to you ? I could have wished to live, if only to be at your side when your time shall come, and, pillowing your head uj)on my breast, wipe the death damps from your brow, and commend your departing spirit to its Maker's presence, em- balmed in woman's holiest prayer. But it is not to be so ; and I submit. Yours is the privilege of watching, through long and dreary nights, for the spirit's final flight, and of transferring my sinking liead from your breast to my Saviour's bosom ! And you shall share my last thought, the last faint pressure of my hand, and the last feeble kiss shall be yours ; and even when flenh and hea t shall have failed me, my eye shall rest on yours until glazed by death ; d our spirits shall hold one fast com- mimion, until gently fading from my view, the last of earth. you shall mingle with the tirst bright glimpses of the unlading ghiries of that better world, where partings are unknown. Well do I know the spot, dear G , where you will lay me ; often have we stood by the place, as we watched the mellow sunset, as it glanced its quivering flashes through the leaves, and bur- nished the grassy mounds around us with stripes of gold. Each perhaps has thought that one of us would come alone ; and, whichever it might be, your name would be on the stone. We loved the spot, and I know you'll love it none the less when yo'4 see the same quiet sunlight and gentle breezes play among MAN AND WOMAN. the grass that grows over your Mary's jjrave. 1 know you'll go often alone there, when I am laid there, and my spirit shall be with you then, and whisper among the waving brandies, 'I am not lost but gone before.' " A woman has no natural gift more bewitching than a sweet laugh. It is like the sound of Hutes upon the water. It leads from her in a clear sparkling riil ; and the heart that hears it feeJ 1 as if bathed in the cool, exhilarating spring. Have you ever pursued an unseen figure through the trees, led on by a fairy laugh, now her", now there, now lost, now found ? We have. And wo are pursuing that wandering voice to this day. Sometimes it comes to us in the midst of care and sorrow, or irksome business, and then we turn away and listen, and hear it ringing throughout the room like a silver bell, with power to scare away the evil spirits of the mincL How nmch we owe to that sweet laugh ! It turns prose to poetry ; it flings showers of sunshine over the darkness of the wood in which we are travelling. Quiucy being asked why there were more women than men, replied, " It is in confoi mity with the arrangements of natura We always see more of heaven than of earth." He cannot be an unhappy man who has the love and smile of woman to ac- company him in every department of life. The world may look dark and cheerless without — enemies may gather in his path — but when he returns to his fireside, and feels the tender love of woman, he forgets his cares and troubles, and is com- paratively a happy man-. He is but half prepared for the journey of life, who takes not with him that friend who will forsake liim in no emergency — who will divide his son'ows — increase his joys — lift the veil from his heart — and throw sun- shine amid the darkest scenes. No, that man cannot be miser- able who has such a companion, be he ever so poor, despised, and trodden upon by the world. No trait of character is more valuable in a female than the possession of a sweet temper. Home can never be made happy without it. It is like the dowers that spring up in our pathway, reviving and cheerLg MAN AND WOMAN. U as. Let a man go home at night, w varied and >»>mby the toils of the day, and how soothing is a word by a good dispo- sition I It is sunshiiio falling on his heart. Ue is happy, and the cares of iito are forgotten, Mothing can be more touching t' ".n to behold a woman who ha»l been all tenderness and de- pendence, and alive to every trivial roughness while treading the prosperous path of life, suddenly lising in mental force to be the comforter and suppoiter of her husband under misfor- tune, and abiding with unnhrinking firmness the bitterest winds of adversity. As the vine whi'^h has long twine'l its graceful foliage about the oak, and been lifted by it in sunshine, will, when the hardy plant is riven by the thunderbolt, cling round it with its caressing tendiils, and bind up its shattered boughs, so it is beautifully ordained that woman, who is the mere de- pfcndtmt, an adornment uf man in happiest hours, should be his stay and solace when smitten 1^- sudden calamity. 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 intiuence. There is a beautiful har- mony about her character thai, at once inspires a respect whicii soon warms into love. The icfluence 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 even the light and frivolous a taste for food more substantial than the frothy gossip with which they seek to recreate their minds. Thackeray says : " It is better for. you to pass an evening once or twice a week i a lady's diawing-room, even though the conversation is siovv, and you know the girl's song by heart, than in a club, a tavern, or a pit of a theatre. All amusements of youth to which virtuous women are not ad- mitted, rely on it, are deleterious in their nature. All men who avoid female society have dull perceptions, and are stupid, or have gross tastes, and revolt against what is pure. Your club gwaggerers, who are sucking the butts of billiard cues all night, call female society insipid. Poetry is uninspiring to a jockey ; 1! 1 1} 2t MAN AND WOMAN. beauty has no cliaroas for a blind man: music does not pUaa* a poor beast who does not know one tune from another ; but as a pure epicure is hardly tired of water, sauces, and brown bread and butter, I protest I can sit for a whole evening talking with a well regulated, kindly woman about her girl Fanny, or her boy Frank, and like the evening's entertainment. One of the great benefits d, man may derive from a woman's society is that he is bound to be respectful to her. The habit is of great good to your moral men, depend upon it. Our edu- cation makes us the most eminently selfish men in the world." Tom Hood, in writing to his wife, says ; " I never was any- thing till I knew you ; and I have been better, happier, and a more prosperous man ever since. Lay that truth by in lavender, and remind me of it when I fail. I am wiiting fondly and warmly ; but not without good cause. First, your own affec- tionate letter, lately received ; next, the remembrance of our dear children, pledges of our old familiar love ; then a delicious impulse to pour out the overflowings of my heart into yours ; and last, not least, the knowledge that your dear eyes will read what my hands are now writing. Perhaps there is an after- thought that, whatever may befall me, the wife of my bosom will have this acknowledgment of her tenderness, worth and excellence, of all that is wifely or womanly, from my pen." I have observed among all nations that the women ornament themselves more than the men ; that wherever found, they are the same kind, civil, obliging, humane, tender beings ; that thsy are ever inclined to be gay and cheerful, timorous and modest. They do not hesitate, like a man, to perform any hospitable or generous action ; not haughty or arrogant, or superciUous, but full of courtesy, and fond of society, industrious, economical, in- genious, more liable, in general, to err than man, but, in general, also, more virtuous, and performing more good actions than he- The gentle tendrils of woman's heart sometimes twine around a proud and sinful spirit, like roses and honeysuckles around • lightning-rod, clinging for support to what brings down upon them the blasting thunderbolt. YAN AND WOMAN. 2S The true lady is known wherever you meet her. Ten women shall g?t into the street car or omnibus, and, though we never saw them, we shall point out the true lady. She does not giggle constantly at every little thing that transpires, or does some one appear with a p^eculiar dress, it does not throw her into confusion. She wears no flowered brocade to be trodden under foot, nor ball-room jewellery, nor rose-tinted gloves ; but the lace frill round her face is scrupulously fresh, and the string, under her chin have evidently been handled only by dainty fingers. She makes no parade of a watch, if she wears one ; nor does she draw off her dark, neatly-fitting glove, to display os- tentatious rings. Still we notice, nestling in the straw beneath us, such a trim little boot, not paper-soled, but of an anti-con- sumption thickness ; the bonnet upon her head is of plain straw, simply trimmed, for your true lady never wearK a " dress hat " in an omnibus. She is quite as civil to the poorest as to the richest person who sits beside her, and equally regardful of their rights If she attracts attention, it is by the unconscious grace of her person and manner, not by the ostentation of her dress. We are quite sorry when she pulls the strap and dis- appears ; if we were a bachelor we should go home to our soli- tary den with a resolution to become a better and a — married man. The strongest man feels the influence of women's gen- tlest thoughts, as the mightiest oak quivers in the softest breeze. We confess to a great distrust of that man who persistiiigly un- derrates woman. Never did language better apply to an ad- jective than when man called the wife the " better half." We admire the ladies because of tiieir beauty, respect them be™ cause of their virtues, adore them because of their intelligence^ and love them because we can't help it. Man was made to protsct, love and cherish, not to under- value, neglect, or abase women. Treated, educated and esteem- ed, as she merits, she rises in dignity, becomes the refiner, and imparts a milder, softer tone to man. No commxmity has ever exhibited the refinements of civilization and cocial order where women were held in contempt and their rights not properly re- t ; 1 ' ■ ^ . !l. . I' \ ' 4 i * , r ' ••^ 11 '< i* 1 4 1 111 24 MAN AND WOMAN spected and preserved. Dognide woman and you degrade man more. She is the fluid of the thermometer of society, placed there by the hand of the great Creator. Man may injure the instrument, but can neither destroy nor provide a substitute for the mercury. Hor rights are as sacred as those of the male sex. Her mental powers are underrated by those only who have either not seen, or were so blinded by prejudice, that they would not see their development. Educate girls as boys : put women in the business arena designed for men, and they will acquit themselves far better than boys and men would, if they were placed in the departments designed for females. As a species, the perception of woman, especially in cases of emergency, is more acute than that of the male species ; un- questionably so designed by an all-wise Creator for the preser- vation and perpetuity of our race. Her patience and fortitude, her integrity and constancy, her piety and devotion, are naturally stronger than in the other sex. If she was first in trangi*ession, she was first in the breach. Her seed has bruised the serpent's head. She stood by the expiring Jesua, wheD boasting Peter and the other disciples had forsaken their Lord, She was the last at His tomb, embalmed His sacred body, and the first to discover that He had burst the bars of death, risen from the cleft rook, and triumphed over death and the grave. Under afiii<;tiou, especially physical, the fortitude of women is proverbial. As a nurse, one female will endure more than five men. That she is more honest than man, our penitentiaries fully demonstrate. That she is more religiously inclined, the records of our churches will show. That she is more devotion- al, our prayer-meetings will prove. Women have exercised a most remarkable judgment in re- gard to great issues. They have prevented the casting aside of plans which led to very remarkable discoveries and inventions, Wlien Columbus In id a plan to discover the new world, he could not get a heaiing till he applied to a woman for help. Women equips man for the voyage of life. She is seldom a leader in any prospect but meets her peculiar and best altitude as helper. MOTUBE, 18 Thoagh man frAMuies a project, she fits him for it, beginning in his childhood. A man discovered America, but a woman equipped the voyage. So everywhere ; man executes the per- formancep but woman trains the man. Every effectual person, leaving his mark on the world, is but another Columbus, for whose furnishing some Isabella, in the lorra of his mother, lays uown her jewellery, her vanitiee, her comforts. -> »•«-«- lot^er. JrT is trne to nature, although it be expressed in a figurative I form, that a mother is both the morning and the evening star of life. The light of her eye is always the first to rise, and often the last to set upon man's day of trial. She wields a power more decisive far than syllogisms in argu- ment, or courts of last appeal in authority. Nay, in cases not a few, where there has been no fear of God before the eyes of the young — where His love has been unfelt and His law outraged, a mother's affection or her tremulous tend«^v<5ss has held trans- gressors by the lieart-strings, and been the means of leading them back to virtue and to God. Woman's charms are certainly many and powerful. The ex- panding rose, just bursting into beauty, has an irresistible be- witchingness ; the blooming bride, led triumphantly to the hymeneal altar, awakens admiration and interest, and the blush of her cheek fills with delight ; but the charm of maternity Lb more sublime than all these. Heaven has imprinted in the mother's face something beyond this world, something which claims kindred with the skies — the angelic smile, the tender look, the waking, watchful eye, which keeps its fond vigil over her slumbering babe. Mother I ecstatic sound so twined round our hearts that they I 1. 1 ill 1 \i S8 MOTHER. r mtisi coase to throb ere we forget it I 'tis our first love ; 'tii part of religion. Nature has set the mother upon such a pin- nacle, that our infant eyes and aims are first uplifted to it , we cling to it in manhood ; we almost worship it in old age. He who can enter an apartment and behold the tender babe feeding on its mother's beauty — nourished by the tide of life which flows through her generous veins, without a panting bosom and a grateful eye, is no man, but a monster. " Can a mother's love be supplied ? " No 1 a thousand times no 1 By the deep, earnest yearning of my spirit for a mother's love ; by the weary, aching void in my heart ; by the restless, unsatisfied wanderings of my afiections, ever seeking an object on which to rest ; by our instinctive discernment of the true maternal love from the/a^se — as we would discern between a lifeless statue and a breathing man ; by the hallowed emotions with which we cherish in the depths of our hearts the vision 'f a grass-grown mound in a quiet graveyard among the moun- tains ; by the reverence, the holy love, the feeling akin to idola- try with which our thoughts hover about an angel form among the seraphs of Heaven — by all these, we answer, no 1 Often do I sigh in my struggles with the hard, uncaring world, for the sweet, deep security I felt when, of an evening, nestling in her bosom, I listened to some quiet tale, suitable to my age, read in her tender and untiring voice. Never can I forget her sweet glance cast upon me when I appeared asleep , never her kiss of peace at night. Years have passed away since we laid her beside my father in the old church-yard; yet, still her voice whispers from the grave, and her eye watdhea over me, as I visit spots long since hallowed to the memory of my mother. Oh 1 there is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to her son that transcends all other afiections of the heart. It is neither to be chilled by selfishness, nor daunted by danger, nor weakened by worthlessness, nor stifled by ingratitude. She will sacrifice every comfort to his convenience ; she will 'turrender every pleasure to his enjoyment ; she will glory in MOTHER. 2r his fame and exult in his prosperity ; and if miflfortune over- take hiru, he will be the dearer to her from misfortune ; and if disgrace settle upon his name, she will still love and cherish him in spite of his disgrace ; and if all the world beside cast him otf, she will bo all the world to him. Alas I how little do we appreciate a mother's tenderness while living. How heedless are we in youth of all her anxieties and kindness ? 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 to love us for ourselves, how few will befriend us in misfortune, then it is that we think of the mother we have lost. Over the grave of a friend, of a brother, or a sister, I would plant the primrose, emblematical of youth; but over that of a mother, I would let the green grass shoot up unmolested, for there is something in the simple covering which nature spreads upon the grave, that well becomes the abiding place of decay- ing age. O, a mother's grave ! Earth has some sacred spots, where we feel like loosing shoes from our feet, and treading with reverence ; where common words of social converse seem rude, and friendship's hands have lingered in each other ; where vows have been plighted, prayers ofiered, and tears of parting shed. Oh ! how thoughts hover around such places, and travel back through unmeasured space to visit them I But of all spots on this green earth none is so sacred as that where rests, waiting the resurrection, those we have once loved and cherished — our brothers, or our children. Hence, in all ages, the better pai-t of mankind have chosen and loved spots of the dead, and on these spots they have loved to wander at eventide. But of all places, even among the charnel-houses of the dead, none is so sacred as a mother's grave. There sleeps the nurse of infancy, the guide of our youth, the counsellor of our riper years— our friend when others deserted us ; she whose heart was a stranger to every other feeling but love — ^there she sleeps and we love the very earth for her sake. In what Christian country can we deny the influence vhich I '^1 I S8 MOTHJe/L a mother exerts over the whole life of her children ? Th« roughest and hardest wanderer, while he is tossed on the oceAn. or while he scorches his feet on the desert sands, recurs in his loneliness and sufferings to the smiles which maternal affection shed over his infancy ; the reckless sinner, even in his hardened career, occasionally hears the whi'ij-erings of those holy pre- cepts instilled by a virtuous mother, and, although they may, in the fulness of guilt, be neglected, there are many instances of their having so stung the conscience, that they have led to a deep and lasting repentance ; the erring child of either sex will then, if a mothei yet exists, turn to her for that consola- tion which the laws of society deny, and in the jastiog purity of a mother's love will find the way to heaven. How cheerfully does a virtuous son labour for a poverty-stricken mother ! How alive is he to her honour and high standing in the world ! And should that mother be deserted — be left in " worse than widow- hood," how proudly he stands forth her comforter and protec- tor ! Indeed, the more we reflect upon the subject, the more entirely are we convince d, that no influence is so lasting, or of such wide extent, and tlie more extensively do we feel the neces- isity of guiding this aacrod atfection, and perfecting that being from whom it emanates. Science has sometinks tnea to teach us that if a pebble be cast into the sea on any shore, the efiects are felt, though not perceived by man, over the whole area of the ocean. Or, more wonderful still, science has tried to show that the efiects of all the sound.s ever uttered by man or beast, or caused by inani- mate things, are still floating in the air ; its present state is just the aggregate result of all these sounds ; and if these things bo ti'ue, they fui*nish an emblem of the eflTects produced by a mother's power — effects which stretch into eternity, and ope- rate there forever, in sorrow or in joy. The mother can take man's whole nature under her control She becomes what she has been called, " The Divinity of In- fancy." Her smile is its sunshine, her word its mildest law, until sin and the world have steeled the heart She can " '*«r»'««4«*>»piw^ra«Weg»»i< MOTHER. 1» la nhower around her the most genial of all influences, and from the time when she first lapa her little one in Elysium by clasp Log him to her bosom — " its first paradise " — to the mo)nen' when that child is independent of her aid, or perhaps, like Washington, directs the destinies of millions, her smile, he- word, her wish, is an inspiring force. A sentence of encourage ment or praise is a joy for a day. It spreads light upon ali faces, and renders a mother's power more and more charm-like, as surely as ceaseless accusing, rebuking and correcting, chafes sours and disgusts. So intense is her power that the mere re- membrance of a praying mother's hand, laid on the head in in- fancy, has held back a son from guilt when passion waxed strong. The mother is the angel-spirit of home. Her tender yearn- ings over the cradle of her infant babe, her guardian care of the child and youth, and her bosom companionship with the man of her love and choice, make her the personal centre of the in- terests, the hopes and the happiness of the family. Her love glows in her .sympathies and reigns in all her thoughts and deeds. It never cools, never tires, never dreads, never sleeps, but ever glows and burns with increasing ardour, and with sweet and holy incense upon tha altar of home-devotion. And even when she is gone to her last rest, the sainted mother in heaven sways a mightier influence over her wayward husband or child, than when slie was present. Her departed spirit stiU hovers over his affections, overshadows his path, and draws him by unseen cords to herself in heaven. But in glancing at a nxother's position in our homes, we should not overlook the sorrows to which she is often exposed. A mother mourning by tlie grave of her first-born is a rjpectacle of woe. A mother watching the palpitating frame of her child, as life ebbs slowly away, must "(^voko the sympathy of thw sternest A mother closing the dying eye of child after child till it seems as if she were to be left alone in the world again^ is one of the saddest sights of earth ; when the cradle-sonc passes into a dirge, the heart is laden indeed. ■ WWWHl^-* 1 11 ^1 i 1 1 \ \'\ M '.*.. ■h fi ^ >■ ^ij^K SO MOTEJiR. Not long ago two friends were sitting together engaged m letter writing. One was a young man from India, the other a female friend part of whose family resided in that far-off land. The former was writing to his mother in India. When the lettei- was finished liis fi-iend offered to enclose it in hers, to save postage. This he politely declined, saying : " If it be sent separately, it will reach her sooner than if sent through a friend ; and, perhaps, i*: may save her a tear." His friend was touched at his tender n gard for his mother's feelings, and felt with him, that it was worth paying the postage to save his mother a tear. Would that every boy and girl, every young man and every young woman were equally »aving of a mo- ther's tears. The Christian jnother especially can deeply plant and geni- ally cherish the seeds of truth. Is her child sick ? that is a text from which to speak of the Great Physiciaa Is it the sober calm of evening, when even children grow sedate ? She can tell of the Home where there is no night. Is it morning, wheu all are buoyantly happy ? The eternal day is suggested, and its glories may be told. That is the wisdom which winn souls even more than the formal lesson, the lecture or the task. There is one suggestion more. Perhaps the saddest sentence that can fall upon the ear regarding any child ip — " He has no mother ; she is dead ! " It comes like a voice from the sepul- chre, and involves the consummation of all the sorrows that can befall the young. In that condition they are deprived of their most tender comforter, and tlieir wisest counsellor. They are left a prey to a thousand temptations or a thousand ills, and freed from the restraint of one who could curb without irritating, or guid(j without afiecting superiority. Now will mothers live with their children as if they were thus to leave them in a cold and inhospitable world ? Will they guide their little ones to Him who is pre-eminently the God of the orphan and who inspired His servant to say — " Thougii father and mo- ther forsake me, the Lord will take me up." CHILDREN. n ^ 'OE to him who pioiles not over a cradle, and weeps not over a tomb. H» who has never tried the companionship of a little chilJ j%s carelessly passed by one of the great- est pleasures o . life, as one passes a rare flower without plucking it or knowing its value. The gleeful )augh of happy children ia the best home music, end the graceful figures of childhood are the best statuary. We are all kings and queens in the cradle,an<' each babe is a new marvel, a new miracle. The perfection of the providence for childhood is easily acknowledged. The care which covers the seed of the tree under tough husks, and stony canes, provider for the human plant the mother's breast and the father's bouse. The size of the nestler is comic, and its fciny, beseeching weakness is compensated perfectly by the one happy, patronizing look of the mother, wlio is a sort of high- reposing Providence to it. Welcome to the parents the puny struggler, strong in his weakness, his little arms more irresisti- ble than the soldier's, his lips touched with persuasion which Chatham and Vericles in manhood had not. His unaffected lamentations when he lil'ts 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 small despot asks so little that all reason and all nature are on his side. His igno- rance is more charming than all knowledge, and his little sins more bewitching than any virtue. His flesh is angel's flesh, all alive. " Infancy," said Coleridge, " presents body and spirit in unity; the body is all animated." All day, between his three or four sleeps, he coos like a pigeon-house, sputters and spurs, and puts on his faces of importance, and when he fastsi the little Pharisee fails not to sound his trumpet before him' By lamplight, he delights in shadows on the wall ; by daylight ui yellow and scarlet. Carry him out of doors — he is over- ; I 82 CHILDREN. powered ty the light and by the extent of natural object*, and is silent. Then presently begins his use of his Angel's, and he studies power — the leseon of his race. Not without design has God implanted in the maternal breast that strong love of their children which is felt every- where. This lays deep and broad the foundation for the child's future education from parental hands. Nor without designs has Christ commanded, " Feed my lambs," — meaning to incul- cate upon His Church the duty of caring for the children of the chuich and the world at the earliest possible period. Nor can parents and all well-wishers to humanity be too earnest and cai'eful to fulfil the promptings of their very nature *nd the command of Christ in this matter. Influence is a* quiet a»d imperceptible on the child's mind as the falling of snowflakes on the meadow. One cannot tell the hour when the human mind is not in the condition of receiving impressions from ex- terior moral forces. In innumerable instances, the moat secret and unnoticed influences have been in operation for months and even years to break down the strongest ban'iers of the hu- man 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. Not all at once does any heart become utterly bad. The error is in this : that parents are not con- scious how early the seeds of vice are sown and take root. It is as the Gospel declares, " While men slept, the enemy came and sowed tares, and went his way." If this then is the error, how shall it be corrected, and what is the antidote to be applied ? Never scold children, but soberly and quietly reprove. Do not employ shame except in extreme cases. The suffering is acute ; it hurts self-respect in the child to reprove a child before the family ; to ridicule it, to tread down its feelings ruthlessly, is to wake in its bosom malignant f eelingH. A child is defence- less ; he is not allowed to argue. He is often tried, condemned, and executed in a second. He finds himself of little use. He is put at tilings he does not care for, and withheld from things ■■' 4 : i * CHILDREN, Le which he does like. He is made the convenience of grown-up people ; is hardl> supposed to have any rights, except in a comer, as it were ; is sent hither and thither ; made to get up or sit down for everybody's convenience but his own ; is snubbed and catechised until he learns to dodge government and jlude authority, and then bo whipped for being " such a liar that no one can believe you." They will not trouble you long. Children grow up*— no- thing on earth grows so fast as children. It was but yester- day, and that lad was playing with tops, a buoyant boy. He is a man, and gone 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 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. Things are neat enough now. There is no delay for sleepy folks ; there is no longer any task, before you lie down, of looking after anybody, and tucking up the bedclothes. There are uo disputes to settle, nobody to get off to school, no complaint, no opportunities for impossible things, no rips to mend, no fingers to tie up, no faces to be washed, or collars to be arranged. There never was such peace in the house ! It would sound like music to have some feet clatter down the front stairs ! Oh 1 for some children's noise ! What used to ail us, that we were hushing their loud laugh, checking their noisy frolic, and reproving their slamming and banging the doors ? We wish our neighbours would only lend us an urchin or two to make a little noise in these premises. A home without children ! It is like a lantern and no oandle ; a garden and no flowers ; a vine and no grapes ; a brook and no water gurgling and gushing in its channel We want to be tried, to be vexed, to be run over, to hear chiidreu at work with all itt varieties. Bishop Earle says : " A child is man in a small letter, yet the bes» copy of Adam, before he tasted of Evo or the apple ; aiMi i ( '? :< ?! '. I! t !m0^;; i • ■;/ ■ i 1 I ' < i ; 94 YOUTH. he is happy whose small prj.ctice in the world can only wriU his character. His soul is yet a white pap - 'm8cribl)le(l with observatiunH of the world, wherewith, at length, it becomes a blurred note-book. He is purely happy, because ho knows no evil, nor hath made means by sin to bo acquainted with misery. He arrives not at the mischief of being wise, nor endures evila to come, by foreseeing them. He kisses and loves all, and, when the smart of the rod is past, smiles on his beater. The older he grows, he is a stiir lower from God. He is the Christ- ian's example, and the old man's relapse ; tlie one imitates his pureneas, and the other falls into his simplicity. Could he put off his body with his little coat, lie had got eternity without a burden, and exchanged but one heaven for another." Children are more easily led to be good by examples of lov- ing kindness and tales of well-doing in others, than threatened into obedience by records of sir, crime and punishment. Then, on the infant mind imprass sincerity, truth, honesty, Isenevo- lence and their kindred virtues, and the welfare of your child will be insured not only during this life, but the life to come. Oh, what a responsibility to form a creature, the frailest and feeblest that heaven has made, into the intelligent and fearless sovereign of the whole animated creation, the interpreter and adorer and almost the representative of Divinity. ♦*•» EN glory in raising great and magnificent structures and ^ find a secret ])leasure to see sets of their own planting grow up and flourish ; but it is a greater and more glorious work to build up a man ; to see a youth of our own planting, from the small beginnings and advantages we have given him, to grow up into a considerable fortune, to take root in the world, and to shoot up into such a height, and spread its YOUTH. its bmnches so wide, tliat we who first, plant<^aek in childhood ; doubtless that joy is wronglit up into our nature as lIk sun- light of long past morninyvi is wrou;'ht up in the soft mellowness of the apricot. The time will soon oome — if it has not already — when you must part from those Mdio have sunouiided the same paternal board who mingled with you in the gay-hearted joys of child- hood, jid the opening promise of youth. New cares will at- tend you in new situations ; and the relations you form, or the business you pursue, may call you far from the " play-place" of your " early days." In the unseen future, your brothei-s and Bisters may be sundored from you ; your lives may be spent apart ; and in dea*^.h you may be divided ; and of you it may be said — " They grow in beauty, side by side, Tlioy filled oiio home witli ;^I< o ; Their graves arc severed far and wide, By mount, a»d stroam, and aea." Let your own home be the cynosure of your affections, the spot where youj- highest desires are concentrated. Do this, and you will prove, not only the hope, but the stay of your kindred and home. Your personal character will elevate the whole family. Others may become degenerate sons, and bring the gray hairs of their parents with sorrow to the grave. But you will be the pride and staff of a mother, and an honour to your sire. You will establish their house, give peace to their pillow, and be a memorial to their praise. Spend your evening hours, boys, at home. You may make them among the most agreeable and ])rofi table of your lives, and when vicious companions would tompt you away, remem- ber that God has said, " Cast not in thy lot with them ; walk thou not in their way ; refrain thy foot from tbeir path. They < i I! I 86 YOUTH. lay in wait for their own blood ; they lurk privily for their own lives. But walk thou in the way of good men, and keep the paths of the right-eous." Keep good companj'^ or none. Never be idla If your hands cannot be usefully employed, attend to the cultivation of your mind. Always speak the truth. Make few promises. Live up to your engagements. Keep your own secrets, if you have any. Wlien you speak to a person, )«ok him in the face. Good company and good conversation are the very sinews of virtue. Good character is above all things else. Your character can- not be essentially injured except by your own acta. If ^t and so expert in the pursuit of prey. It is a mis- fortune to be bom with a silver spoon in your mouth, for you have it to carry and plague you in all your days. Riches often hang like a dead weight, yea like a millstone about the necks of ambitious young men. Had Benjamin Franklin or George Law been brought up in the lap of affluence and ease, they would probably never have been heard of by the world at large. It was the making of the one that he ran away, and of the other that he was turned out of doors. Early thrown upon their own resources, they acquired the energy and skill to over- come resistance, and to grapple with the difl5culties that beset their pathway. And here I think they learned the most im- portant lesson of their livra — ^a lesson tha* develonod their manhood— forcing upon them Necessity, the most useful and ■'^HHIBBHK' ■<"»*^^M I .■• f !: { P ♦ ■ I << ■■■? i |§ YOUTH. inexorable of masters. There is nothing like being bound out, turned out, or even kicked out, to compel a man to do for him- self. Rough handling of the last sort has often made druxiken men sober. Poor boys, though at the foot of the hill, should remember that every step they take toward the goal of wealth and honour gives them increas«d energy and power. They ha,ve a purchase^ and obtain a inomentuTn, the rich man's son never knows. The poor man's son has the furthest to go, but without knowing it he is turniog the longest lever, and that with the utmost vim and vigour. Boys, do not sigh for the capital or indulgence of the rich, but use the capUaZ you have — I mean those God-given powers which every healthy youth ot good habits has in and of himself. All a man wants in this life is a skilful hand, a well-informed mind, and a good heart. In our happy land, and in these favoiyoed time« of libraries, ly- ceums, liberty, religion and education, the humblest and poor- est can aim at the greatest usefulness, and tbe highest excel- lence, with a prospect of success that calls forth all the endurance perseverance and industry that is in man. We live in an age marked by its lack of veneration. Old institutions, however sacred, are now fearlessly, and often wan- tonly, assailed ; the aged are not treated with deference ; and fathen and mothers are addressed with rudeness. The com- mand now runs, one would think, not in the good old tenor of .he Bible, " Children obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right," but thus : Parents obey your children. Some may go 80 far as to say this is right. " Why should I, who am so much superior to my father and my mother, bow down before them I Were they equal to me ; did they appear so well in society ; and, especially, were they not in destitute circumstances, I could re- spect them. But " — my young friend, pause — God, nature, and humanity forbid you to pursue this strain. Because our pa- rents are poor, are we absolved from all obligfttions to love and reqpeot them ? Nay, if our father was in narrow drcumstances, and stUl did all that he could for us, we owe him, instead of tees regard, an hundred fold the more. If our mother, with V - P1a TOOTH. scanty meAOs, could promote our comfort and train us up aa she did, then, for the sake of reason, of right, of common com- passion, let us not despise her in her need. Let every chiVl, having any pretence to heart, or manlinees, 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 recollection 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 ine£fable. But be selfsh still, have your own way, consult your own inclinations, yield to the bent of your own desires, regardless of a parent's commands, and coun- sels, and beseechings and tears, and as the Lord liveth your life will be a failure ; because " the eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shaU pick it out, and the young eagle shall eat it." Consider, finally, that it' you live on, the polluted joys of youth cannot be the joys of old age ; though its guilt and st&ng left behind, will endure. I know well that the path of strict virtue is steep and rugged. But, for the stem discipline of temperance, the hardship of self-denial, the crushing of appe- tite and passion, there will be the blessed recompense of a cheer- ful, healthful manhood, and an honourable old age. Tea, higher and better than all temporal returns, live for purity of speech and thought; live for an incorruptible character; have the courage to begin the great race, and the energy to pursue the glorious price ; foresee your danger, arm against it, trust in. God, and jou will have nothing U> fear. I" f V i i f i i ' I 40 BOMB. fomc. 'HAT a hallowed name! How full of enchantment und how dear to the heart ! Home is the magic circle within which the weary spirit finds refuge ; it is the sacred asylum to which the care-worn heart retreats to find rest from the toils and inquietudes of life. Ask the lone wanderer as he plods his tedious way, bent with the weight of figb, and white with the frost of years, ask him what is home ? He will tell you " it is a green spot in memory ; an oasis in the desert ; a centre about which the fondest recol- lections of his grief- oppressed heart cling with all the tenacity of youth's first love. It was once a glorious, a happy reality, but now it rests only a^ an image of the mind." Home ! That name touches every fibre of the soul, and strikes every chord of the human heart with its angelic fingers. Nothing but death can break its spell. What tender associa- tions 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. Some years ago, some twenty thousand peopW <|Hthered in the old Castle Garden, New York, to hear Jennie l^nd sing, as no other songstress ever had sung, the sublime compositions of Beethoven, Handel, etc. At length the Swedish Nightingale thougiit of her home, paused, and seemed to fold her wings for a higher flight. She began with deep emotion tc pour forth " Home, Sweet Home." The audience could not stand it An uproar of applause stopped the music. Tears gushed from those thousands like rain. Beethoven and Handel were forgotten. After a moment the song came again, seemingly as from heaven, almost angelic. Home, that was the word that bound as with a spell twenty thousand souls, and Howard Payne triumphed ever the great masters of song. When we look at the brevity in as of le len. [en, ith Ht f ' i 1 .. i ^.'■ ^ ■ •1 15 H i^ i I i J ^" t 'M BOMB. 41 and simplicity of this home song, we are ready to ask, what is the charm that lies concealed in it ? Why Joes the dramatist and poet find his reputation resting on so apparently narrow a basis ? The answer is easy. Next to religion, the deepest and most ineradicable sentiment in the human soul is that of the home affections. Every heart vibrates to this thjme. Home has an influence which is stronger than death. It is law to our hearts, and binds us with a spell which neither time nor change can break ; the darkest villainies which have dis- graced humanity cannot neutralize it. Gray-haired and demon guilt will make his dismal cell the sacred urn of tears wept over the memories of home, and these will soften and melt into tears of penitence even the heart of adamant. Ask the little child what is home t You will find that to him it is the 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 attrac- tive t(3 him as the home of the angels. Home is the spot whore the child pours out all its complaints, and it is the grave of all its sorrows. Childhood has its sorrows and itiS gne vances, but home is the place where these are soothed and banished by the sweet lullaby of a fond mother's voice. Was Paradise an abode of purity and peace ? or will the New Eden above be one of unmiugled beatitude 1 Then " the Para- dise of Childhood," " the Eden of Home," are names applied to the family abode. In that paradise, all may appear as smiling and serene to childhood as the untainted garden did to unfallen man ; even the remembrance of it, amid distant scenes of woe, has soothed some of the saddest hours of life, and crowds o£ mourners have spoken of *' A home, that paradise beIo\r Of sunshine and of flowers. Where hallowed joys perennial flow By calm sequester'd bowers." There childhood nestles like a bird which has built its abod* :^'J^^ Wr-7*«:-SiTi-«;ii,*^ ■ I'll : 48 HOME. V }■ H? |l --I amon^ roses ; there the cares and the coldness of the earth am, as long as possible, averted. Flowers there bloom, or fruits ia- vite on every side, and there paradise would indeed be restored, could mortal power ward off the consequences of sin. This new garden of the Lord would then abound in beauty unsullied, and trees of the Lord's planting, bearing fruit to His glory, would be found in plenty there — it would be reality, and not mere poetry, to speak of ** My own dear qniet home, The Eden of my heart." Home of my childhood ! What words fall upon the ear with so much of music in their cadence as those which recall the scenes of innocent and happy childhood, now numbered with the memories of the past 1 How fond recollection delights to dwell upon the events which marked out our early pathway, when the unbroken home-circle presented a scene of loveliness vainly sought but in the bosom of a happy family ! Interven- ing years have not dimmed the vivid colouring with which mem- ory has adorned those joyous hours of youthful innocence. We are again borne on the wings of imagination to the place made sacred by the remembrance of a father's care, a mother's love and the cherished associations of brothers and sisters. Home ! how often we hear persons speak of the home of their childhood. Their minds seem to delight in dwelling upon the recollection of joyous days spent beneath the parental roof, when their young and happy hearts were as light and free as the birds who made the woods resound with the melody of their cheerful voices. What a blessing it is, when weary with care and burdened with sorrow, to have a home to which we can go, and there, in the midst of friends we love, forget our troubles^ and dwell in peace and quietness. There is no happiness in life, there is no misery like that growing out of the dispositions which consecrate or desecrate a home. Peace at home, that is the boon. " He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home." Home M HOME. 4f' •hould be made so truly homo that the weary tempted heart could turn toward it anywhere on the dusty highway of life and receive light and strength. 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 tiet that bind the wealthy and the 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, 80 far as our present existence ia 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 foun- tains of its love. Home is the chief school of human virtue. Its responsibilities, joys, sorrows, smiles, tears, hopes, and solici- tudes form the chief interest of human life. There is nothing in the world which is so venerable as th« character of parents ; nothing so intimate and endearing as the relation of husband and wife ; nothing so tender as that of children ; nothing so lovely as those of brothers and sisters. The little circle is made one by a singular union of the affect- ions. The only fountain in- the wilderness of life, where man drinks of water, totally unmixed with bitter ingredients, is that which gushes for him in the calm and shady recess of domestio life. Pleasure may beat the heart with artificial excitement, ambition may delude it with golden dreams, war may eradicate its fine fibres and diminish its sensitiveness, but it is only do- mestic love that can render it truly happy. 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 iorch-blaze of natural < excitement which is easily quenched, but like the serene, chastened light which burns as f-^fely in the dry east wind as in the stillest atmos- phere. Let each bear the other's burden the while — ^let each cultivate the mutual confidence which is a gift capable of in- crease and improvement — and soon it will be found that kind- %: 1 , » ' . \ >. f : r i' .■ I v : 1? 1- H i ' i; I., f; J-- 1.1 i; !: 44 HOME. lineflb will spring up on every side, displacing constitutional unsuitability, want of mutual knowledge, even as we have seen sweet violets and primroses dispelling the gloom of the gray sea- rocks. There is nothing on earth so beautiful as the household on which Christian love forever smiles, and where religion walki a counsellor and a friend. No cloud can darker it, for its twin- Btars are ©entered iu the soul. No storm can make it tremble, for it has a heavenly support and a heavenly anchor. Home is a place of refuge. Tossed day by day upon the rough and stormy ocean of life — harassed by worldly cares, and perplexed by worldly inquietude the weary spirit yearna after repose. It seeks and finds it i i the refuge which home supplies. Here the mind is at rest ; the heart's turmoil be- comes quiet, and the spirit bosks in the peaceful delights of domestic love. Yes, home is a place of rest — we feel it so when we seek and enter it after the busy cares and trials of the day are over. We may find joy elsewhere, but it is not the joy — the satisfac- tion of home. Of the former the heart may soon tire ; of the latter, never. In the former there is much of cold formality ; much heartlessness under the garb of friendsliip, but in the lat- ter it is all heart — all friendship of the purest, truest character. The road along which the man of business travels in pursuit of competence or wealth is not a Macadamized one, nor does it ordinarily lead through pleasant scenes and by well-springs of delight. On the contrary, it is a rough and 'ugged path, beset with " wait-a-bit " thorns and full of pit-falls, which can only be avoided by the watchful care of circumspection. After evjry day's journey over this worse than rough turnpike road, the wayfarer needs something more than rest; he requires solace, and he deserves it. He is weary of the dull prose of life, and athirst for the poetry. Happy is the basiness maji who can find that solace and that poetrj' at home. Warm gi-eetings from loxning hearts, fond glances from bright eyes, the welcome ghouts of children, the many thousand little arrangements for HOME. xo our comfort and enjoyment that silently tell of thoughtful and ijx{)ectant love, the gentle ministrations that disencumber us into an old and easy scat before we are aware of it ; these and like tokens of affection and sympathy constitute the poetry which reconciles us to the prose of life. Think of this, ye wives and daughters of business men ! Think of the toils, the anxi- eties, the mortification, and wear that fathers undergo to secure for you comfortable homes, and compensate them for their trials by making them happy by their own firesides. Is it not true, that much of a man's energy and suooess, as well as happiness, depends upon the character of his home ? Secure tJiere, he goes forth bravely to encounter the trials of life. It encourages him, to think of his pleasant home. It is hia point of rest. The thought of a dear wife shortens the distance of a journey, and alleviates the harassings of business. It is a reserved power to fall back upon. Home and home friends ! How dear they are to us all ! Well might we love to linger on the picture of home friends ! When all other friends prove false, home friends, removed from every bias but love, are the steadfast and sure stays of our peace of soul — are best and dearest when the hour is darkest and the danger of evil the greatest. But if one have rone to care for him at home, — if there be neglect, or love of absence, or coldness, in our home and on our hearth, then, even if we prosper without, it is dark indeed withLn ! It is not seldom that we can trace alienation and dissipation to this source. If no wife or sister care for him who returns from his toil, well may he despair of life's beet, blessings. Home is nothing but a nume without home friends. The sweetest type of heaven is home — nay, heaven itself is the home for whose acquisition we are to strive the most strongly. Home, in one form and another, is the great object of life. It stands at the end of every day's labour, and beckons us to ita bosom ; and life would be cheerless and meaningless did we not discern across the river that divides it from the life beyond, glimpses of tho pleasant mansions prepared for us. ^jm""* 46 HOME. ;» 'i Ileaven ! that land of quiet rest — toward which those, who worn down and tired with the toils of earth, direct their frail barks over the troubled waters of life, and after a long and dangerous passage, find it — safe in the haven of eternal blisa Heaven is the home that awaits us beyond the grave. There the friendships formed on earth, and which cruel death has severed, are never more to be broken ; and parted friends shall meet again, never more to bo separated. It is an inspiring hope that, when we separate here on earth at the summons of death's angel, and when a few more years have rolled over the heads of those remaining, if " faithful unto death," we shall meet again in heaven, our eternal hcyrrn, there to dwell in the presence of our Heavenly Father, «nd go no more out forever. At the best estate, my friends, we arfl only pilgrims and strangers. Hoavon is to be our eternal home. Death will never knock at the door of that mansion, and in all that land there will not be a single grave. Aged parents rejoice very much when on Christmas Day or Thanksgiving Day they have their children at home ; but there is almost always a son or a daugh- ter aosent — absent from the country, perhaps absent from the world. But Oh, how our Heavenly Father will rejoice in the long thanksgiv-ntr day of lieaven, when He has called His children with a. glory ! How glad brothers and sisters will be to dr so long a separation ! Perhaps a score of years aj ^ parted at the door of the tomb. Now they meet aga..^ at the door of immortality. Once they looked through a glass darkly. Now, face to face, corruption, incor- ruption — mortality, immortality. Where are now all their sorrows and temptations and trials 1 Overwhelmed in the Red Sea of death, while they, dry-shod, marched into glory. Gates of jasper, capstone of amethyst, thrones of dominion do not so much affect my soul as the thought of home. Once there, let earthly sorrows howl like storms and roll like seas. Home! Let thrones rot and empires wither. Home ! Let the world die in earthquake struggles and b« FAMILY WORSHIP. 47 buried ami heavenly home, and more pleasing to God, than that of a pious family kneeling with one accord around the home-altar, and uniting their supplications to their Father in heaven ! How sublime the sict of those parents who thus pray for the blessing of God upon their household ! How lovely the scene of a pious mothtsr gathering her little ones around her at the bedside, and teaching them the privilege of prayer ! And what a safeguard is this devotion against all the machinations of Satan ! It is this which makes home a tyoe of heaven, the dwelling place of God. The family altai is heaven's threshold. And happy are those children who, at that altar, have been conse- crated by a father's blessing, baptized by a mother's tears, and borne uj) to heaven upon their joint petitions, as a voluntjiry thank-offering to God. The home that has honoured God with an altar of devotion may well be called blessed. The influence of family worship is great, silent, irresistible, and permanent. Like the calm, deep stream, it moves ou in mmm : i! if I » n 1 48 FAMILY W0B8RIF, gilent, tut overwhelming power. It strikes ita roots deep int« the human heart, and spreads its branches wide over the wholt being, like the lily that bears the tempest, and the Alpine flower that leans its cheek upon the bosom of ei«mal snows — it is exerted amid the wildest storms of life, and breathes • softening spell in our bosom, en when a heartless world u drying up the foundations of sympathy and love. It affords home security and Lappiness, remo\ es family frio tion, and causes all the comphcated wheels o' the home ma chinery to move on noiselessly and smoothly. IL promotes on- ion and harmony, expunges all selfishness, allays petulant feel ings and turbuleni passions, destroys peevishnA-ii of temper and makes home inv'xjurse holy and delightful. 3 i causes thi members to reciprocate "^ech other's affections, huik 1 M FAMILY WORSHIP ■entiments refined, passion subdued, hope elevated, pursuits en- nobled, the world cast into the shade, and heaven realized as the first priase. The great want of our intellectual and moral nature is here met, and home education becomes impregnated with the spirit and elements of our preparation for eternity. Compare an irreligious home with this, and see the vast im- portance of family worship. It is a moral waste ; its members move in the putrid atmosphere of vitiated feeling and misdi- rected power. Brutal passions bocome dominant ; we hear the stem voice of parental despotisra ; we behold a scene of filial strife and insubordination ; there is throughout a heart-blank. Domestic life becomes clouded by a thousand crosses and disap- pointments ; the solemn realities c the eternal world are cast into the shade ; the home conscience and feeling become stulti- fied ; the sense of moral duty distorted, and all the true in- terests of home appear in a haze, Natural affection is debased, «nd love is prostituted to the base designs of self, and the en- tire family, with all its tender chords, ardent hopes, and pro- mised interests, become engulfed in the vortex of criminal worldliness ! It is included in the necessities of our children, and in the covenant promises of God. The penalties of its neglect, and the reward of our faithfulness to it, should prompt us to its establishment in our homes. Its absence is a curse; its pre- sence a blessing. It is a foretaste of heaven. Like manna, it wiU feed our souls, quench our thirst, sweeten the cup of life, and shed a halo of glory and of gladness around our firesides. Let yours, therefore, be the religious home ; and then be sure that God will delight to dwell therein, and His blessing will des- cend like the dews of heaven, upon it. Your children shall " not be found begging bread," but shall be like " olive plants around your table," — the " heritage of the Lord." Yours will be the home of love and harmony ; it shall have the charter of family rights and privileges, the ward of family interests, the palladiiun of family hopes and happiness. Your household piety will be the crowning attribute of your peaceful home-~ BOMB INFLUENCE. M the "crown of living stars" that shall adorn the night of its trihulation, ana the pillar of cloud and of fire in its pilgrimage to a " better conntry." It shall strew the family threshold with Uie flowers of promise, and enshrine the memory of loved ones gone before, in all the fragrance of that " blessed hope " of re- union in heaven which looms up from a dying hour. It shall give to the infant soul its " perfect flowering," and expand it in all the fulness of a' generous love and conscious blessedness, m alfiTig it " lustrous in the livery of divine knowledge." And then in the dark hour of home separation and bereavement, when the question is put to you mourning parents, " Is it well with the child ? is ii» well with thee ? " you can answer with joy,"T*i8weU!" W. \smt Snfltiena. ^UR nature demands heme. It is the first essential element of our social being. This cannot be complete without the home relations ; there would be no proper equilibrium of life and character without the home influence. The heart, when bereaved and disappointed, nat rally turns for refuge to home-life and sympathy. No spot is so attractive to the weary one ; it is the heart's moral oasis. There is a mother's watch- ful love and a father's sustaining influence ; there is a husband's protection and a wife's tender sympathy ; there is the circle of loving brothera and sisters — happy in each other's love. Oh, what is life without these ! A desolation, a painful, gloomy pilgrimage through " desert heaths and barren sands." Home influence may be estimated from the immense force of its impressions. It is the prerogative of home to make the first impression upon our nature, and to give that nature its first direction onward and upward. It uncovers the moral Kouniaun, chooses its channel, and gives the sl^ream its first im« ■*» i'.?i 5: 1 52 HOME INFLUENCE. :*- pulse. It makes the " first atamp and sets the first seal ** upon the plastic nature of the child. It gives the first tone to our desires and furnishes ingredients that will either sweeten or embitter the whole cup of life. These impressions are indelible and durable as life. Compared with them, other impressions are like those made upon sand or wax. These are like " the deep borings into the flinty rock." To erase them we must remove every strata of our being. Even the infidel lives under the holy influence of a pious mother's impressions. John Rsin- dolph could never shake ofiT the restraining influence of a little prayer his mother taught him when a child. It preserved him from the clutches of avowed infidolity. The home influence is either a blessing or a curse, either for good or for evil. It cannot be neutral. In either ease it is mighty, commencing with our birth and going out with us through life, clinging to us in death, and reaching into the eter- nal world. It is that unitive power which arises out of the manifold relations and associations of domestic life. The speci- fic influences of husband and wife, of parent and child, of bro- ther 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 its roots 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 snows," it is exerted amid the wildest storms of life and breathes a softening spell in our bosom even when a heartless world is freezing up the founf^ain of sympathy and love. It is governing, restraining, attracting and tradi- tional. It holds the empire of the heart and rules the life. It restrains the wayward passions of the child and checks him in his mad career of ruin. Oui' habits, too, are formed under the moulding power of home. The "tender twig" is there bent, the spirit shaped, HOME INFLUENCE. fS piiuciples implanted, and the whole character is formed until it becomes a habit. Goodness or evil are there " resolved into necessity." Who does not feel this influence of home upon all his habits of life? The gray-haired father who wails in his second infancy, feels the traces of his childhood home in his spirit, desires and habits. Ask the strong man in the prime of life whether the most firm and relia jle principl&s of his char- acter were not the inheritance of the parental home. The most illustrious statesmen, the most distinguished war- riors, the most eloquent ministers, and the greatest benefactors of human kind, owe their greatness to the fostering influence of home. Napoleon knew and felt this when he said, " What France wants is go>, I mothera, and you may be sure then that France will have good sons." The homes of the American re- volution nade the men of the revolution. Their influence reaches yet far into the inmost frame and constitution of our glorious republic. It controls the fountains of her power, forms the character of her citizens and statesmen, and shapes our destiny as a people. Did not the Spartan mother and her home give character to the Spartan nation ? Her lessons to her child infused the iron nerve into the heart of that nation, and caused her sons, in the wild tumult of battle, " either to live behind thoir shields, or to die upon thom!" Her influence fired them with a patriotism which was stronger than death. Fad it been hallowed by the pure spirit and principles of Christianity what a power of good it would have been! But alas! the home of an Aspasia had not the heart and ornaments of the Christian family. Though " the monuments of Cornelia's virtues were the character of her children," yet these were not " the ornaments of a quiet spirit." Had the central heart of the Spartan home been that of the Christian mother, the Spartan nation would now perhaps adorn the brightest page of history. Home, in all well-constituted minds, is always associated with moral and social excellence. The higher men rise in the scale of being, the more important and interesting is home. 54 HOME INFLUENCE. i The Arab or forest men may care little for his home, but tin* Christian man of cultured heart and developed mind will love his home, and generally love it in proportion to his moral worth. He knows it is the planting-ground of every seed of morality — the garden of virtue, and the nuraery of religion. He knows that souls immortal are here trained for the skies; that private worth and public character are made in its sacred retreat. To love home with a deep and abiding interest, with a view to ita elevating influence, is to love truth and right, heaven and Qod. Our life abroad is but a reflex of what it is at home. We make ourselves in a great measure at home. This is especially true of woman. The woman who is rude, coarse and vulgar at home, cannot be expected to be amiable, chaste and refined in the world. Her home habits will stick to her. She cannot shake them off. They are woven into the web of her life. Her home language will be first on her tongue. Her home by-words will come out to mortify her just when she wants most to hide them in her heart. Her home vulgarities will show their hideous forms to shock her most when she wants to appear her best. Her home coarseness will appear most when she is in the most refined circles, and appearing there will abash her more than elsewhere. All her home habits will follow her. They have become a sort of second nature to her. It is much the same with men. It is indeed there that every man must be known by those who would make a just estimate either of his virtue or felicity ; for smiles and embroidery are alike occaaional, and the mind is often dressed for show in painted honour and fictitious benevolence. Every young woman should feel that just what she is at home she will ap- pear abroad. If she attempts to appear otherwise, everybody will soon see through the attempt. We cannot cheat the world long about our real characters. The thickest and most opaque mask we can put on will soon become transparent. This fact we should believe without a doubt. Deception most often deceives itself The deceiver is the most deceived. The liar u often the only one cheated. The young woman who pretendi :% HOME INFLVBNOE. ftl^ to what Bhe is not, believes her pretence is not understood. Other people laugh in their sleeves at her fooli ^^ pretensiona. Every young woman should early form in hei and an ideal of a true fiome. It should not be the ideal of a place, but of the chavdcter of Jvotm. Place does not constitute home. Many a gilded palace and sea of luxury is not a home. Many a flower-girt dwelling and splendid mansion lacks all the ess - tiak of home. A hovel is often more a home than a palav . If the spirit of the congenial friendship link not the hearts of the inmates of a dwelling it is not a home. If love reign not there ; if charity spread not her downy mantle over all ; if peace prevail not ; if contentment be not a meek and merry dweller therein ; if virtue rear not her beautiful children, and religion come not in her white robe of gentleness to lay her hand in benediction on every head, the home is not complete. We are all in the habit of building for ourselves ideal homes* But they are generally made up of outward things — a house, » garden, a carriage, and the ornaments and appendages of luxuiy. And if, in our lives, we do not realize our ideas, we make our- selves miserable and our friends miserable. Half the women^ in our country are unhappy because their homes are not so^ luxurious as they wish. The grand idea of home is a quiet, secluded spot, where lov- ing hearts dwell, set apart and dedicated to i/mprovm%ent — to- intellectual and moral improvement. It is not a formal school of staid solemnity and rigid discipline, where virtue is made a task and progress a sharp necessity, but a free and easy exer- cise of all our spiritual limbs, in which obedience is a pleasure, discipline a joy, improvement a self- wrought delight. All the duties and labours of home, when rightly understood, are so many means of improvement. Even the trials of home are so- many rounds in the ladder of spiritual progress, if we but make them so. It is not merely by speaking to children about spiritual things that you win them over. If that be all yoo do, it will accomplish nothing, less than nothing. It is the sentiments which they hear at home, it is the maximg whii^. 55 HOME AMUi^EMENTS. rule your daily conduct — the likings and dislikings which you express — the whole regulations of the household, in dress, and food, and furniture — the recreations you indulge — the company you keep — the style of your reading — the whole complexion of daily life — this creates the element in which your children aie either growing in grace, and preparing for an eternity of glory — or they are learning to live without God, and to die without hope. :n i 4..., I I V t \ id! ^ . ■■M '* ^TT HAVE been told by men, who have passed unharmed (^r through the temptations of youth, that they owed their escape from many dangers to the intimate companionship of aflectionate and pure-minded sisters. They have been saved from a hazardous meeting with idle company by some home en- gagement, of which their sisters were the charms ; they have re- frained from mixing with the impure, because they would not bring home thoughts and feelings which they could not share with those trusting and loving friends ; they have put aside the wine-cup, and abstained from stronger potations, becaiuia they would not profane wi^h their fumes the holy kiss, with which they were accustomed to bid their sisters good-night," A proper amount of labour, well- spiced with sunny sports, is almost absolutely necessary to the formation of a lirm, hardy, physical constitution, and a cheerful and happy mind. Let all youth not only learn to choose and enjoy proper amusements, but let them learn to invent them at home, and use them there, and thus form ideas of such homes as they shall wish to hare their own children enjoy. Not half the people know how to make a home. It is one of the greatest and most useful studies of life to learn how to make a home — such a home as men, and women, and children should dwell in. It ii> a study that should €)omi: ^muftinn^ntft. f>pp. p. f)0. 'Mbkm..^ \l ' J:! ; I. ' i'! f :^^: I 1% HOME AMUSEMENTS. 57 b« early introduced to the attention of youth. It would be well if books were written upon this most interesting subject, giv- ing many practical rules and hints, with a long chapter on Amusementa. That was a good remark of Seneca, when he said, " Oreat is he who enjoys his earthen-ware as if it were plate, and nofc less great is the man to whom all his pUte is no more than earthen-ware." Every home should be cheerful. Innocent joy should reign in every heart. There should be domestic amuse- ments, fireside pleasures, quiet and simple it may be, but such as shall make home happy, and not leave it that irksome place which 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 chancre comes over us at the change of its tones ! No delicately tuned harpstring can awaken more pleasure ; no grating discord can pierce with more pain. Let parents talk much and talk well at home. A father who IS habitually silent in his own house, may be in many respects a wise man; but he is not wise in his silence. We sometimes see parents who are the life of eveiy company which they enter, dull, silent and uninteresting at home among the chil- dren. If they have not mental activity and mental stories sufficient for both, let them first provide for their own house- hold. Ireland exports beef and wheat, and lives on potatoes- and they fare as poorly who reserve their social charms for companions abroad, and keep their ddness for home consump- tion. It IB better to instruct children and make them ha.pv at home, tnan it is to charm strangers or amuse friends. A sdent house is a dull pla for young people, a place from which they wnl escape if they can. They will talk of being "shut up there ; and the youth who does not love home is in danger. Ihe truo mother loves to see her son come home to her He may be almost as big as her house; a whiskerando, with a. II 58 HOME AMUSLMSNTS. H- much hail on his face ao would stuff her arm chair.snd she may be a mere shred of a woman ; bub he's "her boy ;" and if he grew twice as big he'd be " her boy " still ; aye, and if he take unto himself a wife, he's her boy still, for all that She does not believe a word of the old rhyme— ** Your Bon is your son till he gets him a wife ; But your daughter's your daughter all the days of her life. ** And what will bring our boys back to our homesteads but oar making those homesteads pleasant to them in their youth. Let us train p. few roses on the humble wall, and their ecent and beauty will be long remembered ; and many a lad, instead of going to a spree, will turn to his old bed, and return to his work again, strengthened, invigorated and refreshed, instead of bat- tered, weakened, and, perhaps, disgraced. Fathers, mothers, remember this : and if you would not have your children lost to you in after-life — if you would have your married daughters not forget their old home in the new one — if you would have your sons lend a hand to keep you in the old rose-covered cottage, instead of letting you go to the naked walls of a workhouse — make home happy to them when they are young. Send them out into the world in the full belief •• that there is no place like home," aye, " be it ever so homely." And even if the old home should, in the course of time, be pulled dovra, or be lost to your children, it will still live in their memories. The kind looks, and kind words, and thoughtful love of those who once inhabited it, will not pass away. Your home will be like the poet's vase — ** You may break, you may ruin, the vase if you will. But the Boeut of the roses wUl cling to it stilL" Music is an accomplishment usually valuable as a home en- joyment, as rallying round the piano the various members of a family, and harmonizing their hearts, as well as their voices particularly in devotional strains. We know no more agree- able and interesting spectacle than that of brothers and ttisten '