IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // / |gr A* 'Pa i 1.0 1.1 liilM 12.5 LS ■■■ itt ^ 12.2 2.0 r« u 14.0 as 1^ L25 114 11.6 — A" FhoiDgrapl:)ic CCHptXBtiOQ 23 WKT MAIN STMIT Wmm.N.*'. 14M0 (7U)t7S<4IM (^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHIVI/ICIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian l.istituta for Historical IViicroreproductions / Instftut Canadian da microraproductions historiquas Tachnical and Bibliographic Notaa/Notat tacliniquaa at bibiiographiquaa Tha In^tituta haa attamptad to obtain tha baat originai copy avaiiabia for filming. Faaturaa of thia copy which may ba bibiiogrephicaiiy uniqua, which may altar any of tha imagaa in tha raproduction, or which may aignificantly changa tha uauai mathod of filming, ara chackad balow. D D D D D Colourad covara/ Couvartura da coulaur I I Covara damagad/ Couvartura andommagAa Covara raatorad and/or laminatad/ Couvartura raataurto at/ou paiiiculAa Covar titia miaaing/ La titra da couvartura manqua Colourad mapa/ Cartaa gAographiquaa an coulaur Colourad ink (i.a. othar than blua or black)/ Encra da coulaur (i.a. autra qua biaua ou noira) Colourad plataa and/or iliuatrationa/ Planchaa at/ou iliuatrationa an coulaur Bound with othar matarial/ RalM avac d'autraa documanta Tight binding may cauaa ahadowva or diatortlon along intarior margin/ La re liura aarria paut cauaar da I'ombra ou da la diatortlon la long da l« marga IntMaura Blank iaavaa addad during raatoratlon may appaar within tha taxt. Whanavar poaaibia, thaaa hava baan omittad from filming/ II aa paut qua cartalnaa pagaa blanchaa aJoutAaa lora d'una rastauration apparaisaant dana la taxta, maia, loraqua cala 6tait poaaibic, caa pagaa n'ont paa 4H* fllmAaa. Additional commanta:/ Commantairaa aupplAmantairaa: L'Inatltut a microfilm^ la maillaur axamplaira qu'll lul a 4t4 poaaibia da aa procurar. Laa dAtaila da cat axamplaira qui aont pauMitra uniquaa du point da vua bibliographlqua, qui pauvant modlfiar una imaga raproduita, ou qui pauvant axigar una modification dana la mAthoda normala da filmaga aont indiquAa ci-daaaoua. r*n Colourad pagaa/ D D El D D Thia Itam la filmad at tha reduction ratio chackad balow/ Ca document eat film* au taux da rMuctton Indiqu* d- d a aa oua. 10X 14X 18X 22X Pagaa da coulaur Pagaa damagad/ Pagaa andommagtea Pagaa reatored and/or laminated/ Pagae reatauriaa at/ou pailiculAea Pagaa diacolourad, atainad or foxed/ Pagaa dteoloriaa, tachatAea ou piquAea Pagaa detached/ Pagaa dMach^aa Th to Th po of fill Or ryj Showthrough/ Tranaparance Quality of prir Qualiti inigale de I'lmpreaaion Includea aupplamantary mntarii Comprend du matirial auppiimantaira |~n Quality of print variea/ I I Includea aupplamantary mntarial/ th« •io otf fin alo or Th< ahi Tl^ Ma diff am| bag rigli raqi I — I Only edition avaiiabia/ Seule MMon diaoonible Pagaa wholly or partially obacured by errata aiipa, tiaauea, ate., hava been ref limed to enaure the beat poaaibia imaga/ Laa pagaa totaiament ou partiallement obacurciaa par un feuillat d'arrata, una pelure, etc., ont 4H§ filmAea i nouveau de fapon A obtenir la mailleure image poaaibia. 7SK 30X 12X ItX 20X m 2«X JBX 32X tails du odiftor una mag* Tha oopy fllmad hara has baan raproducad thanka to tha ganaroaity of: University off Alberta Edmonton Tha i7 CIIAITHR XIX. CIIAPTF.R XXIV. C.ratitucie S7tt Sympathy . .101) CIIAITKR XX. Seir-Controt 3>21 CIIAPTKR XXI. Contentment 837 CHAPTKR XXII. Bndurance 849 CHAPTER XXIIL FOrglveneiia MS CIIAITICR XXV. .Siir-Surificfl 8P1 CIIAPTKR XXVI. Deciaion 403 CHAPTER XXVII. Heroism in Well-Doini; 41;^ CHAPTER XXVIII. Temperance 4a2> 37l» 8t>l 40} 41;^ 4a:- ^)^/''''-:^^J\''':':::-^''''"^^ ■■'■■'■•M,T... •"■- THE Tree's inclined. :x A^? ■^ -..U-. r«j ^;)?/- ■'J^.^. ^T \ i i I THE BEaiNNma OF HOME INFLUENOB STARTING RIGHT OR THE INFLUENCE OF HOME CHAPTTBR I. "JUST AS THE TWIQ IS BENT THE TREE'S INCLINED." NLY the right kind of a home can furnish the right start in the world. From a good seed and good soil grows a good tree, and even good seed cannot thrive well in a poor soil. Says the well-known author, J. G. Holland, "Any feeling that takes a man away from his home is a traitor to the household." Home is the first and most important school of character. It is there that every human being receives his best moral training, or his worst ; for it is there that he imbibes those principles of conduct which endure through manhood, and cease only with life. It is a common saying that " Manners make the man ; " and there is a second, that "Mind makes the man:" but truer than either is a third, that "Home makes the man." For the home-training includes not only manners and mind, but character. It is mainly in the home that the heart is opened, the habits are formed, the intellect is awakened, and character moulded for good or for evil. From that source, be it pure or impure, issue the principles and maxims that govern society. The tiniest bits of opinion sown in the minds of children in private life afterwards issue forth to the world, and become its pub- lic opinion ; for Nations are gathered out of nurseries, and they who hold the leading- strings of children are rukrs. The Star of Home. I remember the days when my spirit would turn From the fairest of scenes and the sweetest of song. When the hearth of the stranger seemed coldly to bum, And the moments of pleasure for me were too long ; For one name and one form shone in glory and light, And lured back from all that might tempt me to roam, Tbe festal was joyous, but was not so bright As the smile of a mother, the star of my home. The sharpest of pain, and the saddest of woes, The darkest, the deepest of shadows might come ; Yet each wound bad its balm, while my soul coold repose On the heart of a mother, the star of my home. E1.1ZA Cook. It is in the order of nature that domestic life should be preparatory to social, and that the mind and character should first be formed in the home. There the individuals who afterwards form society are dealt with in detail, and fashioned one by one. From the family they enter life, and advance from boy- hood to citizenship. Thus the home maybe regarded as the most influential school of civilization. For, after all, civilization mainly 17 .*■•' 18 THE INFLUENCE OF HOME. resolves itself intv, a question of individual training; and according as the respective members of society are well or ill trained in youth, so will the community which they constitute be more or less benefited and elevated. The training of any man, even the wisest, cannot fail to be powerfully influenced by the moral surroundings of his early years. He comes into the world helpless, and absolutely dependent upon those about him for nurture and culture. From the very first breath that he draws, his education begins. When a mothei once asked a clergyman when she should begin the education of her child, then four years old, he replied : " Madam, if you have not begun already, you have lost those four years. From the first smile that gleams upon an infant's cheek, your opportunity begins." An Arabian Proverb. But even in this case the education had already begun ; for the child learns by simple imitation, without eflbrt, almost through the pores of the skin. " A fig-tree looking on a fig-tree becometh fruitful," says the Arabian proverb. And so it is with the children ; their first great instructor is example. However apparently trivial the influences which contribute to form the character of the child, they endure through life. The child's character is the nucleus of the man's; all after-education is merely what is added; the form of the crystal remains the same. Thus the saying of the poet holds true in a large degree, " The child is father of the man ; " or, as Milton puts it, " The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day." Those impulses to conduct which last the longest and are rooted the deepest, always have their origin near our birth. It is then that the germs of virtues or vices, of feelings or sentiments, are first implanted which deter- mine the character for life. The child is, as it were, laid at the gate of a new world, and opens his eyes upon things all of which are full of novelty and wonder- ment. At first it is enough for him to gaze ; but by-and-by he begins to think, to observe, to compare, to learn, to store up impressions and ideas; and under wise guidance the progress which he makes is really wonderful. Lord Brougham has observed that between the ages of eighteen and thirty months, a child learns more of the material world, of his own powers, of the nature of other bodies, and even of his own mind and other minds than he acquires in all the rest of his life. The Mother's Influence. It is in childhood that the mind is most open to impressions, and ready to be kindled by the first spark that falls into it. Ideas are then caught quickly and live lastingly. Thus Scott is said to have received his first bent towards ballad literature from his mother and grandmother's recitations in his hearing long before he himself had learned to read. Childhood is like a mirror, which reflects in afler-life the images first presented to it. The first thing continues forever with the child. The first joy, the first sorrow, the first success, the first failure, the first achievement, the first misadventure, paint the foreground of his life. All this while, too, the training of the character is in progress — cf the temper, the will, and the habits — on which so much of the happiness of human beings in aiber-Iife depends. Although man is endowed with a certain self-acting, self-helping power of con- tributing to his own development, independent of surrounding circumstances, and of reacting upon the life around him, the bias given to his moral character in early life is of immense ;armg read. :ts in The :hild. fcess, the \d of the the liuch Mife tha con- Bent ing to "THE CHEERFUL HOME PRESENTS ITS SMILING FACE." Thomas CampbeU. 19 THK INFLUENCE OF HOME. importance, and goes far toward shaping his whole future course. Place even the highest-minded philosopher in the midst of daily discomfort, immorality and vileness, and he will insensibly gravitate towards brutality. Ho v much more sus- ceptible is the impressionable and helpless child amidst such surroundings ! It is not |>ossib!e to rear a kindly nature, sensitive to evil, pure in mind and heart, amidst coarse- ness, discomfort and impurity. How true it is that home is the one place we never forget ; the memory of it lives as long as we do. 'Mid pleasures and palaces though we n:ay roam. Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. A charm from the skies seems to hallow it there. Which, go through the world, you'll not meet with elsewhere. Home, home, sweet home ! There's no place like home. An exile from home, pleasure dazzles in vain ; Ah I give me my lowly thatched cottage again. The birds singing sweetly that come to my call ; Ob, give me sweet peace of mind, dearer than all ! Home, swee?; , sweet home ! There's no place like home. John Howard Paynb. There is music in the word home. To the old it brings a bewitching strain from the harp of memory; to the young it is a reminder of all that is near and dear to them. Among the many songs we are wont to listen to, there is not one more cherished than this touching melody of " Home, Sweet Home." What a Song of Home Did. Passing through the splendid thorough- fares of Paris one night was an Englishman, who had left his home and native land to view the splendors and enjoy the pleasures of a foreign country. He had beheld with delight its paintings, its sculpture, and the grand yet graceful proportions of its build* ings, and had yielded to the spell of the sweetest muse. Yet, in the midst of its keenest happiness, when he was rejoicing most over the privileges he possessed, tempta- tions assailed him. Sin was presented to him in one of its most bewitching garbs. He drank wildly and deeply of the intoxicating cup, and his draught brought madness. Reason was overwhelmed, and he rushec? out, all his scruples overcome, careless oi what he did or how deeply he became immersed in the hitherto unknown sea of guilt. He Listened Intently. The cool night air lifted the damp locks from his heated brow, and swept with sooth- ing touch over his flushed cheeks. Walking on, calmer, but no less determined, strains of music from a distance met his ear. Follow- ing in the direction the sound indicated, he at length distinguished the words and air. The song was well remembered. It was " Home, Sweet Home." Clear and sweet the voice of some English singer rose and fell on the air, in the soft cadences of that beloved melody. Motionless, the wanderer listened till the last note floated away and he could hear nothing but the ceaseless murmur of a great city. Then he turned slowly, with no feeling that his manhood was shamed by the tear which fell as a bright evidence of the power of song. The demon that dwells in the wine had fled ; and reason once more asserted her right to control. As the soft strains of " Sweet Home " had floated to his ear, mem- ory brought up before him his own " sweet home." He saw his gentle mother, and heard her speak, while honest pride beamed from her eye, of her son, in whose nobleness I till the Id hear I a great > feeling le tear power le had fcd her Mns of ,mem- ' sweet and earned lleness "JUST A3 THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE'S INCLINED. 21 and honor she could always trust ; and his heart smote him as he thought how little he deserved such confidence. He remembered her last words of love and counsel, and the tearful farewell of all those dear ones who gladdened that far-away home with their presence. Well he knew their pride in his integrity, and the tide of remorse swept over his spirit as he felt what their sorrow would be could they have seer 'lim an hour before. Subdued and repentant, he retraced his steps, and with this vow never to taste of the ter- rible draught that couid so excite him to madness was mingled a deep sense of thank- fulness for his escape from further degradation. The influence of home had protected him, though the sea rolled between. A Cheerful Home. None can tell how often the commission of crime is prevented by such memories. If, then, the spell of home is so powerful, how important it is to make it pleasant and lovable I Many a time a cheerful home and smiling face do more to make good men and women, than all the learning and eloquence that can be used. It has been said that the sweetest words in our language ^re " Mother, Home and Heaven ; " and one might almost say the word home included them all ; for who can think of home without remembering the gentle mother who sanctified it by her pres- ence ? And is not home the dearest name for heaven ? We think of that better land as a home where brightness will never end in night. Oh, then, may our homes on earth be the centers of all our joys; may they be as green spots in the desert, to which we can retire when weary of the cares and perplexities of life, and drink the clear waters of a love which we know to be sincere and always unfailing. Sweet ii the smile of home ; the mntaal look Where hearts are of each other sure ; Sweet all the joys that crowd the household nook. The haunt of all affections pure. John KsbuI. Thus homes, which are the nurseries of children who grow up into men and women, will be good or bad according to the power that governs them. Where the spirit of love and duty pervades the home — where head and heart bear rule wisely there — where the daily life is honest and virtuous — where the government is sensible, kind, and loving, then may we expect from such a home an issue of healthy, useful, and happy beings, capable, as they gain the requisite strength, of following the footsteps of their parents, of walking uprightly, governing themselves A'isely, and contributing to the welfare of those about them. Children are Imitators. On the other hand, surrounded by igno- rance, coarseness, and selfishness, they will unconsciously assume the same char- acter, and grow up to adult years rude, uncultivated, and all the more dangerous to society if placed amidst the manifold temp- tations of what is called civilized life. " Give your child to be educated by a slave," said an ancient Greek, " and, instead of one slave, you will then have two." The child cannot help imitating what he sees. Every thing is to him a model^-of manner, of gesture, of speech, of habit, of character. "For the child," says Richter, "the most important era of life is that of childhood, when he begins to color and mould himself by companionship with others. Every new educator effects less than his pre- decessor ; until at last, if we regard all life as an educational institution, a circumnaviga' tor of the world is less influenced by all the %k 'J' 22 THE INFLUENCE OF HOME. nations he has seen than by his nurse." Models are, therefore, of great importance in moulding the nature of the child ; and if we would have fine characters, we must necessarily present before them fine models. Now, the model most constantly before every child's eye is the mother. Thieves Cannot Teach Honesty. One good mother, said George Herbert, is worth a hundred school-masters. In the home she is "loadstone to all hearts, and loadstar to all eyes." Imitation of her is constant, and example is far more than pre- cept. It is instruction in action. It is teach- ing without words, often exemplifying more than tongue can teach. In the face of bad example, the best of precepts are of but little avail. The example is followed, not the precepts. Indeed, precept at variance with practice is worse than useless, inasmuch as it only serves to teach the most cowardly of vices — hypocrisy. Even children are judges of consistency, and the lessons of the parent who says one thing and does the opposite, are quickly seen through. The teaching of the friar was not worth much who preached the virtue of honesty with a stolen goose in his sleeve. By imitation of acts, the character be- comes slowly and imperceptibly, but at length decidedly formed. The several acts may seem in themselves trivial ; but so are the continuous acts of daily life. Like snow- flakes, they fall unperceived; each flake added to the pile produces no sensible change, and yet the accumulation of snow- flakes makes the avalanche. So do repeated acts, one following another, at length become consolidated in habit, determine the action of the human being for good or for evil, and, in a word, form the character. It is becati.se the mother, far more than the father, influences the action and conduct of the child, that her good example is of so much greater importance in the home. It is easy to understand how this should be so. The home is the woman's domain — her kingdom, where she exercises entire control. Her power over the little subjects she rules there is absolute. They look up to her for everything. She is the example and model constantly before their eyes, whom they unconsciously observe and imitate. Letters Cut in the Bark. Cowley, speaking of the influence of early example, and ideas early implanted in the mind, compares them to letters cut in the bark of a young tree, which grow and widen with age. The impressions then made, how- soever slight they may seem, are never effaced. The ideas then implanted in the mind are like seeds dropped into the ground, which lie there and germinate for a time, afterwards springing up in acts and thoughts and habits. Thus the mother lives again in her children. They unconsciously mould themselves after her manner, her speech, her conduct, and her method of life. Her habits become theirs ; and her character is visibly repeated in them. This maternal love is the visible provi- dence of our race. Its influence is constant and universal. It begins with the education of the human being at the outstart of life, and is prolonged by virtue of the powerful influence which every good mother exercises over her children through life. When launched into the world, each to take part in its labors, anxieties and trials, they still tarn to their mother for consolation, if not for counsel, in their time of trouble and difli- culty. The pure and good thoughts she has implanted in their minds when children con. tinue to grow up into good acts long after >< ibly rful ises hen :in Qrn for iffi- las }n< ORAFTINO THB YOtJNO TRSit 24 THK \FLUKNCE OF HOMK the is dead ; and when there is nothing but a memory of her left, her children rise up and call her blcs.sed. It is not .sa)'in({ too much to aver that the happiness or misery, the enlijjhtenmcnt or i£norance, the civilization or barbarism of the world, depends in a very hijjh degree upon the exercise of woman's power within her special kingdom of home. Indeed, Emerson says, broadly and truly, that " a sufficient measure of civilization is the influ- ence of good women." Posterity may be said to lie before us in the person of the child in the mother's lap. What that child will eventually become, mainly depends upon the training and example which he has received from his first and most influential educator. Woman, above all other educators, edu- cates through the affections. Man is the brain, but woman is the heart of humanity ; he its judgment, she its feeling; he its strength, she its grace, ornament and solace. Even the understanding of the best woman seems to work mainly through her affections. And thus, though man may direct the intel- lect, woman cultivates the feelings, which mainly determine the character. While he fills the memory, she occupies the heart. She makes us love what he can only make us believe, and it is chiefly through her that we are enabled to arrive at virtue. Boyhood of Augustine. The respective influences of the father and the mother on the training and develo|>- ment of character are remarkably illustrated in the life of St. Augustine. While Augus- tine's father, a poor freeman of Thagaste, proud of his son's abilities, endeavored to furnish his mind with the highest learning of the schools, and was extolled by his neigh- bors for the sacrifices he made for that object, " beyond the ability of his means " — his mother, Monica, on the other hand, sought to lead her son's mind in the direc- tion of the highest good, and with pious care counselled him, entreated him, advised him to chastity, and, amidst much anguish and tribulation, because of his wicked life, never ceased to pray for him until her prayers were heard and answered. Thus her love at last triumphed, and the patience and goodness of the mother were rewarded, not only by the conversion of her gifled son, but also of her husband. Later in life, and afler her husband's death, Monica, drawn by her affection, followed her son to Milan, to watch over him ; and there she died, when he was in his thirty-third year. But it was in the earlier period of his life that her example and instruction made the deepest impression upon his mind, and determined his future character. First Impressions the Most Lasting. There are many similar instances of early impressions made i.-;)on , a child's mind, springing up into good acts 'ate in life, afler an intervening period of selfishness and vice. Parents may do all that they can to develop an upright and virtuous character in their children, and apparently in vain. It seems like bread cast upon the waters and lost. And yet sometimes it happens that long afler the parents have gone to their rest — it may be twenty years or more — the good precept, the good example set before their sons and daughters in childhood, at length springs up and bears fruit. , One of the most remarkable of such in- stances was that of the Rev. John Newton, of OIney, the friend of Cowper, the poet. It was long subsequent to the death of both his parents, and after leading a vicious life as a youth and as a seaman, that he became \ in- rton, }oet. "JUST AS THK TWIG IS HKNT TIIK TREE'S INCLINED. 20 suddenly awakcncJ to a aensc of his de- pravity; and then it was that the Icsiions which his mother had given him when a child sprantj up vividly in his memory. Her voice came to liim as it were from the dead, and led him gently back to virtue and good- ness. John Randolph's Mother. Another instance is that of John Randolph, our American statesman, who once said : " I should have been an atheist if it had not teen for one recollection — and that was the memory of the time when my departed mother used to take my little hand in hers, and cause me on my knees to say, 'Our Father who art in heaven ! ' " As the character is biased in early life, so it generally remains, gradually assuming its permanent form as manhood is reached. " Live as long as you may," said Southey, •" the first twenty years are the longest half of your life," and they are by far the most pregnant in consequences. The poorest dwelling, presided over by a virtuous, thrifty, cheerful, and cleanly woman, may thus be the abode of comfort, virtue, .and happiness ; it may be the scene of every ennobling relation in family life; it may be endeared to a man by many delightful asso- ciations; furnishing a sanctuary for the heart, .a refuge from the storms of life, a sweet resting-place after labor, a consolation in misfortune, a pride in prosperity, and a joy at all times. The good home is thus the best of schools, iiot only in youth. but in age. There young and old best learn cheerfulness, patience, self control, a".d the spirit of service and of duty. Izaak Walton, speaking of George Herbert's mother, says she governed her family with judicious care, not rigidly nor :sourly, "but with such a sweetness and compliance with the recreiitions and plea- sures of youth, a.4 did incline them to sprniJ much of their time in her company, which was to her great content." There it no ipot, or IiIkIi or low, Which (lari-titMW viiiu not at times; No iihelter from the rench or W4)«>, In fttrtheat Unda of fiiireit clime*. The teinpeata khake tlie itouteitt tree, Aud every flow'rct s, "Teach a boy arithmetic thoroughly, and he is a made man." And why? — Because it teaches him method, accuracy, value, proportions, relations. But how many girls are taught arithmetic well? If they are not so taught, what is the conse- quence? When the girl becomes a wife, if she knows nothing of figures, and is inno- cent of addition and multiplication, she can keep no record of income and expenditure, and there will probably be a succession of mistakes committed which may be prolific in domestic contention. The woman, not being up to her business — that is, the man- agement of her domestic affairs in conformity with the simple principles of arithmetic — will, through sheer ignorance, be apt to commit extravagances, though unintentional, which may be most injurious to her family peace and comfort. Method, which is the soul of business, is also of essential importance in the home. Work can only be got through by method. Muddle flies before it, and confusion becomes a thing unknown. Method demands punctu- ality, another eminently business quality. The unpunctual woman, like the unpunctual man, occasions dislike, because she consumes and wastes time, and provokes the reflection that we are not of sufficient importance to make her more prompt. To the business man, time is money; but to the business 84 THK INKLUKNCK OK HOME. woman, method is more — it is peace, comfort, and domestic prosperity. "We niiM Buccew," some persons state, And one cut) well see tlmJUKh it. For whi n it comes to bcinj} late They know ju8t how to do it." Prudence is another important business quality in women, as in men. Prudence is practical wisdom, and comes of tiie cuhi- viited judgment. It has reference in all things to fitness, to propriety ; judging wisely of the right thing to be done, and the right way of doing it. It calculates the means, order, time, and method of doing. Prudence learns from experience, quickened by knowledge. The Importance of Health. For these, among other reasons, habits of business are necessary to be cultivated by all women, in order to their being efficient helpers in the world's daily life and work. Furthermore, to direct the power of the home aright, women, as the nurses, trainers, and educators of children, need all the help and strength that mental culture can give them. Mere instinctive love is not sufficient. Instinct, which preserves the lower creatures, needs no training; but human intelligence, which is in constant request in a family, needs to be educated. The physical health of the rising generation is intrusted to woman by Providence; and it is in the physical nature that the moral and mental nature lies enshrined. It is only by acting in accord- ance with the natural laws, which, before she can follow, woman must mieds understand, that the blessings of health of body, and health of mind and morals, can be secured at home. Without a knowledge of such laws, the mother's love too often finds its recompense only in a child's coffin. It is a mere truism to say that the intel« lect with which woman as well as man is endowed has been given for use and exer- cise, and not " to rust in her unused." Such endowments are never conferred without a purpose. The Creator may be lavish in his gifts, but he is never wasteful. Woman was not meant to be either an unthinking drudge or the merely pretty ornament of man's leisure. She exists for herself as well as for others ; and the seri- ous and responsible duties she is called upon to perform in life require the cultivated head as well as the sympathizing heart. Her highest mission is not to be fulfilled by the mastery of fleeting accomplishments, on which so much useful time is now wasted ; for, though accomplishments may enhance the charms of youth and beauty, of thcm« selves sufficiently charming, success, after all, does not depend upon them. A Narrow View. It has been said that chemistry enough to keep the pot boiling, and geography enough to know the different rooms in her house, was science enough for any woman ; while Byron, whose sympathies for woman were of a very imperfect kind, professed that he would limit her library to a Bible and a cook- book. But this view of woman's character and culture is absurdly narrow and unin- telligent. Speaking generally, the training and disci- pline that are most suitable for the one sex in early life are also the most suitable for the other; and the education and culture that fill the mind of the man will prove equally whole- some for the woman. Indeed, all the argu- ments which have yet been advanced in favor of the higher education of men plead equally strongly in favor of the higher education of women. In all the departments of home. the Intel- is man is md cxer- d." Such Mrithoiit a ish in his either an \y pretty exists for the seri- illed upon ated head art. Her :d by the nents, on r wasted ; ' enhance , of them- cess, after ;nough to enough ler house, I ; while were of that he a cook- :haracter id unin* |nd disci- lie sex in for the : that fill ' whole- le argu- I in favor [squally ^tion of home. "THE MOTHER IS THE CHILD'S PLAYMATE." M 35 86 TIIK INFLUKNCK OK HOMK, intelligence will atld to woman's u.scfulncs.s and efficiency. It will give her thought and forethought, enable her to anticipate and provide for the contingencies of life, suggest improved methods of management, and give her strength in every way. In disciplined mental power she will find a stronger and safer protection against decep- tion and imposture than in mere innocent and unsu3pccting ignorance ; in moral and religious culture she will secure sources of influence more powerful and endunng than in physical attractions ; and in due self-reli- ance and self-dependence she will discover the truest sources of domestic comfort and happiness. Kot from his head was woman took, As made her husband to o'crlook ; Not from his feet, as one designed The footstool of the stronger kind ; But fashioned for himself, a bride, An equal, taken from his side : Her place intended to maintain. The mate and glory of the man, To rest in peace beneath his arm, Protected by her lord from harm, And never from his heart removed, One only less than God lieloved. CHARI.KS WUSLKV. The Need of Good Mothers. But while the mind and character of women ought to be cultivate >! with a view to their own well-being, they ouf' ht not the less to be educated liberally with a view to the happiness of others. Men themselves can- not be sound in mind or morals if women be the reverse ; and if, as we hold to be the cace, the moral condition of a people mainly depends upon the education of the home, then the education of women is to be regarded as a matter of national importance. Not only does the moral character but the mental strength of man find its best safe- guard and support in the moral purity and mental cultivation of woman ; but the more completely the powers of both arc deveU oped, the more harmonious and well-ordered will society be — the more safe and certain its clev.ition and advancement. When the first Napoleon .said that the great want of I'rance was mothers, he meant, in other words, that the I'Vench people needed the education of homes, presided over by good, virtuous, intelligent women. Indeed, the first French Revolution presented one of the most striking illustrations of the social mischiefs resulting from a neglect of the puri- fying influence of women. When that great national outbreak occurred, society was rotten with vicf and profligacy. Morals, religion, virtue, were swamped by sensualism. The character of woman had become depraved. Conjugal fidelity was disregarded; maternity was held in reproach ; family and home were alike corrupted. Domestic purity no longer bound society together. France was mother- less; the children broke loose; and the Revolution burst forth, " amidst the yells and the fierce violence of women." The influence of woman is the same every- where. Her condition influences the mc rals, manners, and character of the people in all countries. Where she is debased, society is debased ; where she is morally' pure and enlightened, society will be proportionately elevated. A Subject Demanding Attention. Hence, to instruct woman is to instruct mian ; to elevate her character is to raise his own ; to enlarge her mental freedom is to extend and secure that of the whole commu- nity. For nations are but the outcomes of homes, and peoples of mothers. There is, however, one special department of woman's work demanding the earnest attention of all true female reformers, though |e every- mc rals, }\c in all )cicty is ire and ionately bn. instruct |o raise pm is to lommu- imcs of }' BROKEN TIES. Irtment earnest lough >?^ \/ 't » "JUST AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREES INCLINED." 37 it is one which has hitherto been unaccount- ably I leglected. We mean the better econom- izing and preparation of human food, the waste of which at present, for want of the most ordinary culinary knowledge, is little short of scandalous. If that man is to be regarded as a benefactor of his species who makes two stalks of grain to grow where only one grew before, not less is she to be regarded as a public benefactor wlio economizes and turns to the best pr^.ctical account the food- products of hur.ian skill and labor. A Fine Field for Rrlorm. The improved use of e\cn our c^'isting supply would be equivalent to an immediate extension of the cultivable acreage of our country — not to speak of the increase in health, e'^onomy, and domestic comfort. Were our female reformers only to turn their energies in this direction with effect, they would earn the gratitude of all households, and be esteemed as among the greatest of all practical philanthropists. We cannot have the highest type of boys and girls in a home characterized by constant waste, nor, indeed, by bad cooking. Do not expert anything except a sour disposition from children fed on sour bread. Poor pastry and poor blood go together, and thin blood can never make a thick and well rounded character. Man is an animal, and must be suitably fed and nourished. It may seem singular to maintain that bad cooking and bad character go together, but it is a serious fact that the best Christians are they who have the best stomachs. To put dyspepsia into the flesh is to put petulance, sourness, despondency into the spirit. We not only want mothers who can say a prayer and tei-ch a catechism ; we want mothers who can wash a baby and make a loaf of bread. Woman has often shown her immense capabilities. We cannot forget the courage of Lady Franklin, who persevered to the last, when the hopes of all others had died out, in prosecuting the search after the Franklin Expedition to the polar world. On the occasion of the Royal Geographical Society determining to award the " Founder's Medal" to Lady Franklin, Sir Roderick Murchison observed that, in the course of a long friendship with her, he had abundant opportunities of observing and testing the sterling qualities of a woman who had proved herself worthy of the admiration of mankind. " Nothing daunted by failure after failure, through twelve long years of hope deferred, she had persevered, with a singleness of pur- pose and a sincere devotion which were truly unparalleled. And now that her one last expedition of the steamer ' Fo.x,' under the gallant M'Clintock, had realized the two great facts — that her husband had traversed wide .seas unknown to former navigators, and died in discovering a northwest passage — then, surely, the adjudication of the medal would be hailed by the nation as one of the many recompenses to which the widow of the illustrious Franklin was so eminently entitled." Illustrious Women. But that devotion to duty which marks tile heroic character has more often been exhibited by women in deeds of charity and mercy. The greater part of these are never known, for they are done in private, out of the public sight, and for the mere love of doing good. Where fame has come to them, because of the success which has attended their labors in a more general sphere, it has come unsought and unexpected, and is often felt as a burden. Who has not heard of Mrs. Fry and Miss Carpenter as prison- visitors and reformers; of Mrs. Chisholm 38 THE INFLUENCE OF HOME. I'M III 111! i, 8 1 I ■ and Miss Rye as promoters of emigration ; of Miss Nightingale, Miss Garrett and Miss Clara Barton, as apostles of hospital nursing; and Miss Frances Willard as a world- renowned advocate of temperance ? That these women should have emerged from the sphere of private and domestic life to become leaders in philanthropy, indicates no small degree of moral courage on their part ; for to women, above all others, quiet and ease and retirement are most natural and welcome. Very few women step beyond the boundaries of home in search of a larger field of usefulness. We have dwelt thus long and earnestly upon the mother's influence, for the reason that if children ever get the right start, she must be mainly instrumental in giving it. " The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rocks the world." THB CHILDREN. When the lessons and tasks are all ended. And the school for the day is dismissed, And the little ones gather around me, To bid me good-night and be kissed ; Oh, the little white amis that encircle My neck in a tender embrace I Oh, the smiles that are halos of heaven, Shedding sunshine of love on my face I And when they are gone I sit dreaming Of my childhood too lovely to last ; Of love that my heart will remember, . When it wakes to the pulse of the past. Ere the world and its wickedness made mc A partner of sorrow and sin ; When the glory of God was alx>ut me, And the glory of gladness within. Oh ! my heart grows weak as a woman's. And the fountain of feeling will flow. When I think of the paths steep and stony. Where the feet of the dear ones must go ; Of the mountains of sin hanging o'er them. Of the tempest of fate blowing wild ! Oh ! there is nothing on earth half so holy As the innocent heart of a child. They are idols of hearts and of households ■ They are angels of God in disguise ; His sunlight still sleeis in their tresses, His gloty still gleams in their eyes ; Oh I these truants from home and from heaven, They have made me more manly and mild. And I know how Jesus could liken The kingdom of God to a child. I ask not a life for the dear ones. All radiant, as others have done. But that life may have enough shadow To temper the glare of the sun ; I would pray God to ;^!ard ' ' ' i i from evil, But my prayer would co:r . ^ick to myself; Ah, a seraph may pray for a sinner. But a sinner must pray for himself. The twig is so easily bended, I have banished the rule and the rod ; I have taught them the goodness of kn.'>wledge, They have taught me the goodness of God ; My heart is a dungeon of darkness. Where I shut them for breaking, a rule ; My frown is sufficient correction ; My love is the law of the school. I shall leave the old house in the autumn. To traverse its threshold no more ; Ah, how I shall sigh for the dear ones, That meet me each morn at the door, I shall miss the "gooc'-nights" and the i. •■.■sps. And the gush of their innocent glee. The group on the green, and the flowt rs That are brought every morning to me. I shall miss them at morn and evening, Their song in the school and the street : I shall miss the low hum of their voices, And the tramp of their delicate feet. When the lessons and tasks are all ended. And death says : " The school is dismissed,' May the little ones gather around me. To bid me good-night and be kissud. Ca&RI,BS DiCLlBRSOir. CHAPTER II. THE FORCE OF EXAMPLE. 1""'1P<5,, HE mocking bird is one of the wonders of the forest. While he sings with a whole choir of birds, the ear can listen only to the mocker, and when he is in full song, a bystander might suppose that he hears all other birds in one. In his domesticated state, this bird whistles for the dog, and the dog starts up and hurries away to meet his master. The mocker screams like a hurt chicken, and the hen flutters her drooping wing and bristling feathers, eager to defend her brood. The- barking of the dog, the mewing of the cat, the tune taught by his master, the quivering notes of the canary, all are repeated by the mocker ; and so perfect is his power of imitation, that other birds are said to become mute beside their rival, as if their powers were superseded by his. Now, a similar principle of imitation operates in our homes : it is there that its most concentrated power appears. Affection and duty, precept and promise, with all that can sway a young immortal, induce or even bind a child to imitate a parent. A silent influence is thus constantly put forth, of which we may be as unconsci()us as we are of the beating of the heart, but which is not on that account less strong, and the character of a child is commonly just the accumulated result of this parental example. It is not more natural for some young animals to resort to the water, and for others to soar into the air, than for children to receive impressions through this channel. Such effects are photographed upon them, and form part of their very existence : they go with them to the grave, and pass with them into eternity, either to enhance their joy or deepen their sad regrets. Like the molten metal delivered into the mould, to come forth either an embodied symmetry or a distorted mass, the child thus receives the impress of the parent ; for so perfect is the power of home, that it as really moulds' or models us as the potter the clay upon his wheel. What Edmiind Burk'? Says. Men, young and old — out the young^ more than the old — cannot help imitating those with whom they associate. It was a saying of Georfje Herbert's mother, intended for the guidance of her sons, " that as our bodies take a nourishment suitable to the meat on which we feed, so do our souls as insensibly take in virtue or vice by the example or conversation of good or bad company." Indeed, it is impossible that association with those about us should not produce a powerful influence in the formation of character. For men are by nature imitators, and all persons are more or less impressed by the speech, the manners, the gait, the gestures, and the very habits of thinking of their companions. " Is example nothing ? " said Burke. "It is everything. Example is the school of mankind, and they will le- grow lin. earti •HAM. Rver keeping sacred order in the chambers of the heart Suffering tunes thn .sart's emotion To eternity's devotion, And awakeii a fond desire For the land where psalms are ringing, And with psalms the martyrs singing Sweetly to the harper's choir. J. Hartmann. Not only do we learn patience and forti- tude from the example of those who know how to bear their misfortunes submissively and profit by them, but in other ways we are influenced by those around us. Henry Martyn's Friend. An entirely new direction may be given to the lifvi of a young man by a happy sugges- tion, a timely hint, or the kindly advice of an honest friend. Thus the life of Henry Martyn, the Indian missionary, seems to have been singularly influenced by a friend- ship which he formed, when a boy, at Truro Grammar School. Martyn himself was of feeble frame, and of a delicate nerv is tem- perament. Wanting in animal spirits, he took but little pleasure in school sports ; and being of a somewhat petulant temper, the bigger boys took pleasure in provoking him, and some of them in bullying him. One of the bigger boys, however, conceiving a friend- ship for Martyn, took him under his protec- tion, stood between him and his persecutors, and not only fought his battles for him, but helped him with his lessons. Though Martyn was rather a backward pupil, his father was desirous that he should liave the advantage of a college education, and at the age of about fifteen he sent him to Oxford to try for a Corpus scholarship, in which he failed. He remained for two years more at the Truro Grammar School, and then went to Cambridge, where he was entered at St. John's College. Whom should he find already settl'id there as a student but his old champion of the Truro Grammar School ? Their friendship was renewed ; and the elder student from that time forward acted as the mentor of the younger one. A Patient, Hard-working Fellow. Martyn was fitful in his studies, excitable and petulant, and occasionally subject to fits of almost uncontrollable rage. His big fri'ind, on the other hand, was a steady, piitient, hard-working fellow ; and he never ceased to watch over, to guide, and to advise for good his irritable fellow-student. He kept Martyn out of the way of evil company, advised him to work hard, " not for the praise of men, but for the glory of God;" and so successfully assisted him in his studies, that at the following Christmas examination he was the first of his year. Yet Martyn's kind friend and mentor never achieved any distinction himself; he passed away into obscurity, leading, most probably, a useful though an unknown career; his great- est wish in life having been to shape the character of his friend, to inspire his soul with the love of truth, and to prepare him for the noble work, on which he shortly after entered, of an Indian missionary. A somewhat similar incident is said to have occurred in the college career of Dr. Paley. When a student he was distinguished for his shrewdness as well as his clumsiness, and he was at the same time the favorite and the butt of his companions. Though his natural abilities were greav, he was thought- less, idle, and a spendthrift ; and at the com- mencement of his third year he had made comparatively little progress. After one of his usual night-dissipations, a friend stood by his bedside on the following morning. " Paley," said he, " I have not TO THE DEAR ONES AT HOME. 44 & i I THE INFLUKNCK OF HOMK. 4ft been al)Ie to sleep for thinking about you. I have been til ink in j; what a fool you are I / have the means of dissipations, and can afford to be idle : ^oit arc poor, and cannot afford it. / could do nothing, probably, even were I to try : you are capable of doing anything. I have lain awake all night think- ing about your folly, and I have now come solenmly to warn you. Indeed, if you per- sist in your indolence, and go on in this way, I must renounce your society alto- gether." It Was the Making of Him. It is said that Paley was so powerfully affected by this admonition, that from that moment he became an altered man. He formed an entirely new plan of life, and dili- gently persevered in it. He became one of the most industrious of students. One by one he distanced his competitors, and at the end of the year he came out ahead. What he aflerwards accomplished as an author and a divine is sufficiently well known. No one recognized more fully the influence of personal example on the young than did Dr. Arnold. It was the great lever with which he worked in striving to elevate the character of his school. He made it his principal object, first to put a right spirit into the leading boys by attracting their good and noble feelings ; and then to make them instru- mental in propagating the same spirit among the rest, by the influence of imitation, exam- ple, and admiration. He endeavored to make all feel that they were fellow-workers with himself, and sharers with him in the moral responsibility for the good gc 'emment of the place. One of the first effects of this high-minded system of management was, that it inspired the boys with strength and self-respect. They felt that they were trusted. There were, of course, wild boys, as there arc at all schools ; and these it was the master's duty to watch, to prevent their bad example con- taminating others. On one occasion he said to an assistant-master : " Do you see those two boys walking together? I never saw them together before. You should make an especial point of observing the company they keep : nothing so tells the changes in a boy's character." Young Men Could Follow Him. Dr. Arnold's own example was an inspir- ation, as is that of every great teacher. In his presence, young men learned to respect themselves, and out of the root of self- respect there grew up the manly virtues. " His very presence," says his biographer, " seemed to create a new spring of health and vigor within them, and to give to life an interest and elevation which remained with them long after they had left him ; and dwelt so habitually in their thoughts as a living image, that, when death had taken him away, the bond appeared to be still unbroken, and the sense of separation almost lost in the still deeper sense of a life and a union inde- structible." And thus it was that Dr. Arnold trained a host of manly and noble characters, who spread the influence of his example in all parts of the world. So also was it said of Dugald Stewart, that he breathed the love of virtue into whole generations of pupils. "To me," says the late Lord Cockburn, " his lectures were like the opening of the heavens. I felt that I had a soul. His noble views, unfolded in glorious sentences, elevated me into a higher world. They changed my whole nature." Character tells in all conditions of life. The man of good character in a workshop will give the tone to his fellows, and elevate their entire aspirations. Thus Franklin, while 4tt THK FORCE OF KXAMPLE. I a workman in London, is siiid to have rc- forniccl the nianncrn of an entire workshop. So the man of bad character aiul debased cner^;y will unconsciously lower and dej^rade his fellows. John Hrown, whose " body lies mouldering in the ground," once said to Emerson, that " for u .settler in a new coun- try, one good believing man is worth a hun- dred, nay, worth n thousand men without character." His example is so contagious, that all other men arc directly and bene- ficially influenced by him, and he insensibly elevates and lifts them up to his own standard of energetic activity. Character is Everything. The scale or beini; in a graduated thing ; And deeper than the vanities of power. Or the vain pomp of glory there u. writ Ciradutiun in itH hidden characttrs. The pathw..'y to the grave may be the same. And the proud man shall tr ad it, and the low. With hia bowed head, shall »,ear him roinpany. Decay will make no difTerence, and death. With his cold hand, shall make no difTerence ; And there will be no precedence of power, In waking at the coming trump of God ; nu*^ in the temper of the iiwisible mind. The godlike and undying intellect. There are distinctions that will live in heaven, When time is a forgotten circumstance I The elevated brow of kings will loM The impress of regalia, and the slave Will wear his immortality as free. Beside the crystal waters ; but the depth Of glory in the attributes of God Will measure the capacities of mind ; And as the angels differ, will the ken Of gifted spirits glorify him more. It is life's mystery. The soul of man Createth its own destiny of power ; And, as the trial is intenscr here. His being hath a nobler strength in heaven. N. P. WilAlS. The Power of Goodness. Communication with the good is invariably productive of good. The good character is difTusive in its influence. " I was common clay till roses were planted in me," says some aromatic earth in the Eastern fable. Like begets like, and good makes good. " It m astonishing," .says Canon Moselcy, " how much good goodness makes. Nothing that is good is alone, nor anything bad ; it makes others good or others bad — and that other, and .so on : like a stone thrown into a pond, which makes circles that make other wider ones, and then others, till the last reaches the shore. Almost all the good that is in the world has, I su|)pose, thus come down to us traditionally from remote times, and often unknown centres of good." So Mr. Ruskin .says, " That which is born of evil begets evil ; and that which is born of valor and honor teaches valor and honor." A Last Message. Great is the pow goodness to charm and to command. - wian inspired by it is the true king of men, drawing all hearts afler him. When General Nicholson lay wounded on his death-bed before Delhi, he dictated this last message to his equally noble and gallant friend. Sir Herbert Ed- wardes : " Tell him," said he, " I should have been a better man if I had continued to live with him, and our heavy public duties had not prevented my seeing more of him privately. I was always the better for a residence with him and his wife, however short. Give my love to them both I " There are men in whose presence we feel as if we breathed a spiritual ozone, refresh- ing and invigorating, like inhaling mountain air, or enjoying a bath of sunshine. The very sight of a great and good man is often an inspiration to the young, who cannot help admiring and loving the gentle, the brave, the truthful, the magnanimous [ Chateaubriand saw Washington only once, but it inspired him for life. After describing THK INFLUKNCK OF HOME. 47 owcver d man r, who gentle, Imous { once, cribing the interview, he says: "Washington sank into the tomb before any little celebrity had attached tu my name. I passed before him as the most unknown of beings. He was in all his glory — I in the depth of my obscur- ity. My naujc probably tlwelt nut a whole day in his memory. Happy, however, was I that his looks were cast upon me, I have felt warmed for it all tlu. rest of my life. There is a virtue even in tlie looks of a great man." " It does one good to look upon his manly, honest face," .said a poor Gern.an woman, pointing to a portrait of tlii,* great Reformer hung upon the wall of her humble dwelling. Admiration of the Good. Even the portrait of a noble or a good man, hung up in a room, is companionship afler a sort. It gives us a closer personal interest in him. Looking at the features, we feel as if we knew him better, and were more nearly related to him. It is a link that con- nects us with a higher and better nature than our own. And though we may be far from reaching the standard of our hero, we are, to a certain extent, sustained and fortified by his depicted presence constantly before us. Fox was proud to acknowledge how much he owed to the example and conversa- tion of Burke. On one occasion he said of him that " if he was to put all the political information he had gained from books, all that, he had learned from science, or that the knowledge of the world and its affairs taught him, into one scale, and the improvement he had derived from Mr. Burke's conversation and instruction into the other, the latter would preponderate." Professor Tyndall speaks of Faraday's friendship as " energy and inspiration." After spending an evening with him, he wrote : " His work excites admiration, but contact with him warms and elevates the heart Here, ajrcly, is a strong man. I love strength, but let me not forget the ex- ample of it:< union with modesty, tciuler- ness and sweetness in ih'' character of Far- aday. ' Wordsworth's Sister. F)ven the gentlest natures are powerful to influence the character of others for good. Thus Wordsworth seems to have been espe- cially impressed by the character of his sis- ter Dorothy, who exercised upon ills mind and heart a )a.sting influence. He describes her as the blessing of his boyhood as well as of his manhood. Though two years younger than himself, her tenderness and sweetness contributed greatly to mould his nature and open his mind to the influences of poetry : " She gave inc eyes, she guve uic ears, And humble cures, and delicate fears ; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears, And love, and thought, and joy." Thus the gentlesl natures are enabled, by the power of affection and intelligence, to mould the characters of men destined to influence and elevate their race through all time. Sir William Napier attributed the early direction of his character first to the impress made upon it by his mothci hen a boy, and afterwards to the noble example of his commander, Sir John Moore, when a man. Moore early detected the qualities of the young oflficer ; and he was one of those to whom the general addressed the encourage- ment, " Well done, my majors ! " at Corunna. Writing home to his mother, and describing the little court by which Moore was sur- rounded, he wrote " Where shall we find such a king? " The career of the late Dr. Marshall Hall ^ X i CA I H m O I Q e S I 48 -.^.'■^..■'l^::' iim he in lis )n ;n |e- drums. lie also iiulul^cd, though sp.ir- iiiyly, in cariciiture drawinjj. Kowcll Bux- ton also was an cminontl)' cheerful man; tikinjj speci.d pleasure ni fielil sports, in ridinj; about the country vith iiis children^ and in minglinj; in all their amusements. Horace Greeley's Cheerfulness. The great journalist, Horace Greeley, was conspicuous for his cheerful disposition. His manner was mild and his appearance con- tented, even under the heaviest labors. He could take personal abuse of the rankest kind without any irritation. He could show indij^mation, when called for, but his even frame of mind was remarkable for one who had so many occasions for resentment. In another sphere of .iction. Dr. Arnold was a noble and a cheerful worker, throwing himself into the great business of his life, the training and teaching of young men, with his whole heart and soul. It is stated in his admirable biography, that the most rcmarkaljle thing in the Laleham circle was the wontlerful healthiness of tone which pre- vailed there. It was a place where a new- comer at once felt that a great and earnest work was going forward. Every pupil was made to feel that there was a work for him to do; that his happi- ness, as well as his duty, lay in doing that work well. Hence an indescribable zest was communicated to a young man's feeling about life; a strange joy came over him on discerning that he had the means of being useful, and thus of being happy. All this was founded on the breadth and comprehensiveness of Arnold's character, as well as its striking truth and reality ; on the unfeigned regard he had for work of all kinds, and the sense he had of its value, both for the complex aggregate of society and the growth and protection of the indi- vidual. In all this there was no e,\citcment; no predilection for one class of work above another; no enthusiasm for any one-sided object; but a humble, profound and most religious consciousness that work is the appointed calling of man on earth; the end for which his various faculties were given ; the element in which his nature is ordained to develop itself, and in which his progres- sive advance toward heaven is to lie. Imitating Defects. So great is the power of example and so disposed are all persons to imitation that even vices a .../metimes followed, and peculiarities that should be avoided are adopted. I'lutarch says that among the Persians those persons were considered most beautiful who were hawk-nosed, for no other reason than that Cyrus had such a nose. In Richard the Third's court humps upon the back were the height of fashion, because Richard was built in this way. According as the various potentates who have condescended to rule mankind have lisped, or stuttered, or limped, or squinted, or .spoken through their no.ses, these infirmities have been elevated into graces and commanded the admiration of silly mortals. > There should, therefore, be great care in the home not to set an evil example. The young will imitate what is placed before them. It is more important for them to have a good example to follow than to receive words of advice and instruction. In his own pithy way Benjamin Franklin says none preach better than the ant, yet she says nothing. Many persons can talk, and can do nothing else. Their words amount to nothing. It is the spouting of the whale that puffs and blows and makes a great fuss, but the water all falls back into the sea and nobody is any the better for it. CHAPa^BR 111. THE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER. li N Iiulcpciulciicc Ilall, I'liiliulcl- phia, han^js the faiiioiiH old Liberty Ikll. Kvcry stranger who visits the Quaker City expects to take a look at tliis relic, whicli bears tli«j iiiscrii)tion, "Proclaim lil)crty tlirmii^hout the land to all the mliabitants thereof." When the Declaration of Inde- pendence was adopted by Congress, the great event was announced by rin^'int,' the bell amid the hurrahs and shouts of an excited populace. It was the one object of interest in the way of historical relics at the World's l*"air, and was constantly surrounded by crowds of curious sight-seers. The old bell met with a misfortune in 1835, having been cracked as it was tolling for Chief Justice Marshall. Since that time its iron tongue has been silent. No attempt has been made to ring it, and on all our national anniversaries it is mute. It is damaged beyond repair. The tones that were once so clear and i nspiring are not now heard. There is no music in the cracked old Liberty Bell, and, except for its history, the associations connected with it and the part it played on the first morning of our nation's independence, it would have gone for old metal and would have been melted up long ago. Such would have been the fate of any other bell with such a sorry rent in its side. The old bell cannot ring, but it can tell us something about human character. Here the flaw is equ iiiy damaging. A character 60 that is .sound, that rnigs as the perfect beh docs, is the character you nnist have if you would rank well among men and make the mov* of lile. Vou cannot conceal the flaws, and any attempt to do it will soon be detected. You must be what you seem to be and what you profess to be. Home is the place where your character is fashioned, and the material that goes into the bell must be of good quality and there must be no flaws in the casting. You are going to have heavy blows struck upon you when you get out into life, and a cracked character is a very poor possession to have on hand, l-'ur this reason you will do well to put what is here said on this very important matter into the scales and weigh it carefully. What Emerson and Luther Say. Character is one of the greatest motive powers in the world. In its noblest embodi- ments, it exemplifies human nature in its highest forms, for it exhibits man at his best. Emerson says, " Men of character are the conscience of the society to which they belong." And Martin Luther saic', "The prosperity of a country depends, ncc on the abundance of its revenues, nor on the strength of its fortifications, nor on the beai ty oi" its public buildings ; but it consists in the num- ber of its cultivated citizens, in its inen of education, enlightenment, and character ; here are to be found its true interest, its chie strength, its real power." Men of genuine excellence, in every station of life — -men of industry, of integrity, of high |»tion ligh THE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER. 61 62 THK INKLUKNCK OF llOMi:. principle, of sterling honesty of purpose — comniaml the spontaneous homage of man- kind. It is natural to believe in such men, to have confidence in them, and to imitate them. All that is good in the world is upheld by them, and without their presence in it the world would not be worth living in. Although genius always commands admi- ration, character most secures respect. The former is more the product of brain-power, the latter of heart-power ; and in the long run ic is the heart that rules in life. Common Duties. Great men are always exceptional men; and greatness itself is but comparative. Indeed, the range of most men in life is so limited, that very few have the opportunity of being great. But each man can act his part honestly and honorably, and to the best of his ability. He can use his gifts, and not abuse them. He can strive to make the best of life. He can be true, just, honest, and faithful, even in small things. In a word, he can do his duty in that sphere in which Providence has placed him. Commonplace though it may appear, this doing of one's duty embodies the highest ideal of life and character, There may be nothing heroic about it ; but the common lot of nen is not heroic. And though the abiding sense of duty upholds man in his highest attitudes, it also equally sustains him in the transaction of the ordinary affairs of every-day existence. M?n's life is " centered in the sphere of common duties." The most influential of all the virtues are those which are the most in request for daily use. They wear the best, and last the longest. Super- fine virtues, which are above the standard of common men, may only be sources of tempta- tion and danger. Burke has truly said that " the human system which rests for its basis on the heroic virtues is sure to have a super- structure of we. kne.ss or of profligacy." Thomas Sackville was lord high treasurer under Queen Elizabeth and James I. He was a man of rare virtues, an 1 when his funeral sermon was delivered, the preacher did not dwell upon his merits as a statesman, or his genius as a poet, but upon his virtues as a man in relation to the ordinary duties of life. " How many rare things were in him ! " said he. " Who more loving unto his wife? — Who more kind unto his children ? — Who more fast unto his friend ? — Who more mod- erate unto his enemy ? — Who more true to his word ? " Indeed, we can always better understand and appreciate a man's real char- acter by the manner in which he conducts himself towards those who are the most nearly related to him, and by his transaction of the seemingly commonplace details of daily duty, than by his public exhibition of himself as an author, an orator, or a statesman. The Noblest Manhood. At the same time, while duty, for the most part, applies to the conduct of affairs in common life by the average of common men, it is also a sustaining power to men of the very highest standard of character. They may not have either money, or property, or If^arning, or power; and yet they may be stroi; ; in heart and rich in spirit — honest, truth*" dutiful. And whoever strives to do his cl / faithfully is fulfilling the purpose for which he was created, and building up in himself the principles of a manly character. There are many persons of whom it may be said that they have no other possession in the world but their character, and yet they stand as firmly upon it as any crowned king. Intellectual culture has no necessary rela- tion to purity or excellence of character. In the New Testament, appeals are constantly THE BEST CAPITAL IS CHARACTER. 63 most in jmen, the hey or be nest, [o do iefor in icter. be in hey ing, •ela- In Intly made to the heart of man and to " the spirit we are of," while allusions to the intellect are of very rare occurrence. "A handful of good life," says George Herbert, " is worth a bushel of learning." Not that learning is to be despised, but that it must be alliec o good- ness. Intellectual capacity is sometimes (bund associated with the meanest moral character — with abject servility to those in high places, and arrogance to those of low estate. A man may be accomplished in art, literature, and science, and yet, in honesty, virtue, truthfulness, and the spirit of duty, be entitled to take rank after many a poor and illiterate peasant. A Great Merchant-Prince. For many years William E. Dodge was perhaps the most successful merchant in New York City. He grew rich for the reason that men knew there was never a flaw in his word any more than in the iron and steel he sold. His success was not the thing most to be admired, but the character of the man, which was always spoken of more than his wealth and large possessions. He gave away hundreds of thousands of dollars ; he gave something to the world of much greater value — ^an example, bright and pure as sun- light. There were no tricks about him. Men of this description — and our country has had thousands of them — should be your models. There is no short cut to success ; if you attempt to go across lots you will get swamped. By the noblest qualities of char- acter you will succeed and in no other way. Some men are too sharp and tricky ever to have any good luck or prosperity. When some one, in Sir Walter Scott's hearing, made a remark as to the value of literary talents and accomplishments, as if they were above all things to be esteemed and honored, he observed, " God help us I what a poor world this would be if that were the true doctrine! I have read books enough, and observed and conversed with enough of eminenc and splendidly-cultured minds, too, in my time ; but I assure you, I have heard higher sentiments from the lips of poor uneducated men and women, when exerting the spirit of severe yet gentle heroism under difficulties and afflictions, or speaking their simple thr .i^^ht^ is to circum- stances in the lot of fri:.>ds a-id neighbors, than I ever yet met wil !' out of the Bible. We shall never learn to feel and respect our real calling and destiny, unless we have taught ourselves to consider everything as moonshine, compared with the education of the heart." Still less has wealth any necessary connec- tion with elevation of character. On the contrary, it is much more frequently the cause of its corruption and degradation. Wealth and corruption, luxury and vice, have very close affinities to each other. Wealth in the hands of men of weak purpose, of deficient self-control, or of ill-regulated pas- sions, is only a temptation and a snare — the source, it may be, of infinite mischief to them- selves, and often to others. Advice of Robby Bums's Father. On the contrary, a condition of compara- tive poverty is compatible with character in its highest form. A man may possess only his industry, his frugality, his integrity, and yet stand high in the rank of true manhood. The advice which Bums's father gave him was the best : "He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne'er a farthing, For without an honest manly heart no man was worth regarding." When Luther died, he left behind him, as set forth in his will, " no ready money, no 34 THE influp:nce of home. I! treasure of coin of any description." He was so poor at one part of his life, that he was under the necessity of earning his bread by turning, gardening, and clock-making. Yet, at the very time when he was thus working with his hands, he was moulding the character of his country; and he was morally stronger, and vastly more honored and followed, than all the princes of Germany. Character is property. li is the noblest of possessions. It is an estate in the general good-will and respect of men ; and they who invest in it — though they may not become rich in this world's goods — will find their reward in esteem and reputation fairly and honorably won. And it is right that in life good qualities should tell — that industry, virtue, and goodness should rank the highest — and that the really best men should be foremost. Bound to be Honest. Simple honesty of purpose in a man goes a long way in life, if founded on a just estimate of himself and a steady obedience to the rule he knows and feels to be right. It holds a man straight, gives him strength and sustenance, and forms a mainspring of vigor- ous action. " No man," once said a well known author, " is bound to be rich or great — no, nor to be wise ; but every man is bound to be honest." But the purpose, besides being honest, must be inspired by sound principles, and pursued with undeviating adherence to truth, integrity, and uprightness. Without princi- ples, a man is like a ship without rudder or compass, left to drift hither and thither with every wind that blows. He is as one without law, or rule, or order, or government. " Moral principles," says Hume, " are social and universal. They form, in a manner, the party of humankind against vice and dis- order, its common enemy." Epictetus once received a visit from a cer- tain magnificent orator going to Rome on a lawsuit, who wished to learn from the Stoic something of his philosophy. Epictetus received his visitor coolly, not believing in his sincerity. "You will only criticise my style," said he ; " not really wishing to learn principles." — "Well, but," said the orator, " if I attend to that sort of thing, I shall be a mere pauper, like you, with no plate, nor equipage, nor land." — " I don't want such things," replied Epictetus ; " and besides, you are poorer than I am, after all. Patron or no patron, what care I ? You do care. I am richer than you. / don't care what Caesar thinks of me. / flatter no one. This is what I have, instead of your gold and silver plate. You have silver vessels, but earthenware reasons, principles, appetites. My mind to me a kingdom is, and it furnishes me with abundant and happy occupation in lieu of your restless idleness. All your pos- sessions seem small to you ; mine seem great to me. Your desire is insatiate — mine is satisfied." Epictetus lived more than eighteen hundred years ago, but there is one phrase in this quotation that has been thought of and repeated ever since, and forms the subject of a remarkable poem which we insert here. It is full of good sense, and deserves to be printed and read the world over. My Mind to Me a Kingdom Is. My mind to me a kingdom is ; Such perfect joy therein I find As far exceeds all earthly bliss That God or nature hath assigned ; Though much I want that most would have. Yet still my mind forbids to crave. Content I live ; this is my stay — I seek no more than may suffice. I 1 ■ "WORK MORN AND EVE AND THROUGH THE SULTRY NOON, AND SONGS OF JOY WILL HAIL THE HARVEST MOON." 65 6(i THK IXFLUKNCK OF llo.MK. r^ I press to bear no haughty sway ; Look, what I lack my iiiiiid supplies. Lo! thus I triumph like a king, Content with that my mind doth bring. I see how plenty surfeits oft, And hasty climbers soonest fall ; I see that such as sit aloft Mishap doth threaten most of all. These get with toil, and keep with fear; Such cares my mind could never 1)ear. No princely pomp nor wealthy store, No force to win the victory, No wily wit to salve a sore, :'o shape to win a lover's eyc^ To noi;<^ of these I yield as thrall ; For whj-, my mind e\er I will." Very different is the man of energetic character ins[)iied bv' a noble spirit, wiiose actions are governed by rectitude, and the law of whose life is dul)'. lie is just and u[)right — in his business dealings, in his public action, and in his fmn'ly life: justice being as essen'ial in the goveriuneiit of a home as of a nntion. lie will be honest in all things — in his words and in his work. He will be generous ,tnd merciful to his opi)onents, as well as to those who are weaker than himself. Cromwell's Ironsides. The man of character is conscientious. He puts his cijnscience into his work, into his worils, into his every action. When Cromwell asked the Parliament for soKIiers in lieu of the decayed serving-nien and tapsters who filled the Commonwealth's army, he required that they shoukl be men " who made some conscience of what they liid ; " and such were the men of which his celebrated regiment of " Ironsitles " was com- posed. The man of character is also re\erential. The possession of this quality marks the noblest and highest type of manhood and womanhood : reverence for things conse- crated by the homage of generations — for iiigh objects, pure; thoughts, and noble aims — for the great men of former times, and the high-minded workers among our contempo- raries. Rexerence is alike indispensable to the happiness of individuals, of families, and of nations. Without it there can be no trust, no faith, no confidence, either in man or God — neither social peace nor social pro- gress. P'or reverence is but another word for religion, which binds men to each other, and all to God, THK INKLUKNCK OI- IIOMK. 'I'hc mail of noble spirit converts all occur- rences into experience, between which experi- ence ami liis reason there is niarriajfe, and the issue are his actions. He moves by affection, not for affection ; he loves glory, scorns shame, ami governeth and obeyeth with one countenance, for it comes from one consideration. Knowinj^ reason to be no idle yift of nature, he is the steersman of his own destiny. Truth is his goddess, and he takes pains to get hor, not to look like her. Unto the society of men he is a sun, whose clear- nes.s directs their steps in a regular motion. He is the wise man's friend, the cxtimplc of the indifferent, the medicine of the vicious. The Strong Make their own Path. I'jiergy of will — self-originating fierce is the soul of every great character. Where it is, there is life ; where it is not, there is faintness, helplessness, and despondency. "The strong man and the waterfall," says the proverb, " channel their own path." The energetic leader of noble spirit not only wins a way for himself, but carries others with him. His every act has a personal sig- nificance, indicating vigor, independence, and self-reliance, and unconsciously commands respect, admiration, and homage. Such intrepidity of character characterized Luther, Cromwell, Washington, Henry Clay, Andrew Jackson, Pitt, Wellington, and all great lead- ers of men. " I am convinced," said Mr. Gladstone, in describing the qualities of Lord Palmerston in the House of Commons, shortly after his death — " I am convinced that it was the force of will, a sense of duty, ami a deter- mination not to give in, that enabled him to make himself a model for all of us who yet remain and follow him, with feeble ami unequal steps, in the discharge of our duties ; it was that force of will that in point of fact did not .so much struggle against the infirmi- ties of old age, but actually repelled them and ke;*^ them at a distance. " And one other quality there is, at least, that may be noticed without the smallest risk of .stirring in any breast a painful emotion. It is this, that Lord Palmerston had a nature incapable of enduring anger or any sentiment of wrath. This freedom from wrathful senti- ment was not the result of painful effort, but the spontaneous fruit of the mind. It was a noble gift of his original nature — a gift which beyond all others it was tlelightful to observe, delightful also to remember in connection with him who has left us, and with wliom we have no longer to do, except in endeavoring to profit by his example w herever it can lead us in the path of duty and of right, and of bestowing on him those tributes of admira- tion and affection which he deserves at our hands." "The Fair Boy." There is a contagiousness in every example of energetic conduct. The brave man is an inspiration to the weak, and compels them, as it were, to follow him. Thus Napier relates that at the combat < f Wra, when the Spanish centre was broken ami in flight, a j'oung officer, named Ilavelock, sprang for- ward, and, waving his hat, called u[)on the Si)ainards within sight to follow him. Put- ting spurs to his horse, he leaped the abattis which protected the I'rencii front, and went headlong against them. The Spainards were electrified ; in a moment they dashed after him, cheering for " El chico bianco!" (the fair boy), and with one shock thoy broke through the French ami sent them flying downhill. Napier mentions another striking illustra- tion of the influence of personal qualities in young Edward P'reer, of the same regiment. I icm, apier the it, a for- the Put- aattis went were after (the )roke lying [Stra- ps in ncnt. TIIK HKST CAPITAL IS CIIARACTKR. 71 who, wlicn he fell at the age of nineteen, at tile battle of the Nivelle, had already seen more combats and seigesthaii lie could count years. " So slight in person, and of such surpassing beauty, that the Spainards often thought him a girl disguised in man's cloth- ing, he was yet so vigorous, so acti\e, so brave, that the most daring and experienced veterans watched his looks on the field of battle, and, implicitly following where he led, would, like children, obey his slightest sign in the most difficult situations." Washington's Personal Influence. And so it is in ordinary life. The good and the great draw others after them ; they lighten ami lift up all who are within reach of their iiillucnce. They are as so many living centres of beneficent activity. Let a man of energetic and upright character be appointed to a position of trust and authority, and all who .serve under him become, as it were, conscious of an increase of power. When Chatham was appointed minister, his personal influence was at once felt through all the ramifications of office. Every sailor who served under Nelson, and knew he was in command, shared the inspiration of the hero. When Washington consented to act as commander-in-chief, it was felt as if the strength of the American forces had been more than doubled. Many years later, in 1798, when Washington, grown old, hail withdrawn from public life and was living in retirement at Mount Vernon, and when it seemed probable that France would declare v.ar against the United States, President Adams wrote to him, saying, ' vVe must ha\e your name, if you will permit us to use it; there will be more efficacy in it than in many an army." Such was the esteem in which the great President's noble characte.' and eminent abilities were held by his countrymen I An incident is related by the historian of the Peninsular War, illustrative of the per- sonal influence e.vercised by a great com- mander over his followers. The Hritish army lay at Sauroren, before which Soult was advancing, prepared to attack in force. Wel- lington was absent, and his arrival was an.xiously looked for. Suddenly a single horseman was seen riiling up the mountain alone. It was the duke, about to join his troops. One of Campbell's Portuguese bat- talions first descried him, and raised a joyful cry; then the shrill clamor, caught up by the next regimenv soon swelled as it ran along the line into 'Jiat appalling shout which the British soldier is wont to give upon the edge of battle, and which no enemy ever heard unmoved. One Ivlan may be a Host. Suddenly he stopped at a conspicuous point, for he desired both armies should know he was there, a.:d a double spy who was present pointed ov,t Soult, who was so near that his features could be distinguished. Attentively Wellington fixed his eyes on that formidable man, and, as if speaking to him- self, he said : " Yonder is a great commander ; but he is cautious, and will delay his attack to ascertain the cause of those cheers ; that will give time for the Si.xth Divison to arrive, and I shall beat him " — which he did. In some cases, personal character acts by a kind of talismanic influence, as if certain men were the organs of a sort of supernatural force. " If I but stamp on the ground in Italj'," said Ponipey, " an army will appear." At the voice of Peter the Hermit, as described by the historian, " Kurope arose, and pre- cipitated itself upon Asia." It was said of the Caliph Omar that his walking-stick struck 72 nvirc terror into those aiiotlicr man's swonl. The very names of some men arc like the sound of a trumpet. Wlun the D(,iiyhis lay mortally wounded on the field of Otlerhuni, lie orilered his name to he shouted still louder than before, saying' there was a tradi- tion in his family that a dead Douj;las should win a battle. His followers, inspired by the sound, t,''ithered fresh courajje, rallied, aiul contpiered ; and thus, in the words of the Scottish poet : "The Douglas (load, his name hath won the field." There ha\ e been some men whose greatest conquests have been achieved after they them- selves were dead. "Never," .says Michelet, " was C;esar more alive, more i)owerful, more terrible, than when his oKl and worn ut body, his withered corpse, lay pierced \\ ilh blows; he appeared then purified, redeems; — that which he had been, despite his many stains — the man of humanity." " Being Dead, they yet Sp .ak." The same ilhustration applies to all history and morals. The career of a great man remains an enduring monument of human energy. The man dies and disappears; but his thoughts and acts survive, and leave an indelible stamp upon his race. And thus the spirit of his life is prolonged and per- petuated, moulding the thought and will, and thereby contributing to form the charac- ter of the future. It is the men that advance in the highest and best directions who are the true beacons of human progress. They are as lights set upon a hill, illumining the moral atmo.sphere around them; and the light of their spirit continues to shine upon all succeeding generations. It is natural to admire and revere really great men. They hallow the nation to which TIIK INI-l.Ui:\CI': OF IIOMK. who saw it than they belong, and lift up not only all who live in their time, but those who live after them. Their great exami)le becomes the conunon heritage of their race; and their gre.it deeds aiul great thoughts are the most glorious of legacies to mankind. They coimeit the present with the past, and help on the in- creasing purpose of the future; holdin;; aloft the stantlard of principle, m.iiutaining the dignity of human character, and filling the mind with traditions and instincts of all that is mo.st worthy and noble in life. Demand for Men. The world wants men — larf;e-hearted, manly men IVIen who shall join its chorus, and jirolonjf The psalm i>( lahor, inid the psalm of love. The times want scholars — scholars who shall shape The ,'ht of song ? Ialicni'c and care, At last, that lu' hrounht his invention to Iwar. In yontli 'twas ])rojei'liil, hut yiars stole away Ami ere 'twas complete he was wrinkli'il and (^ray ; Hut success is secure, unless cniT^jy fails; Anil at length ho prcxluciil the philosopher's scales. "What were they?" you ask. Vou shall (iresently see ; These scales were not made to wtij,'h sujjar and tea. Oh no ; for such pro))erties w{ from tlie living tree Of deeply planted .sympathy ; Whose (lowers are hope, its frnits are Miss, Heiicfieeiiee its harvist is. There are some hosoms dark and drear, Wliieh an unwalcred desert are ; Yet there a curious eye may trace Some stnilinj; siM>t, some venlaiit place, Where little flowers, the weeds helween, Spend their soft frajjranee a'l unseen. Despise them not — f>)r wisdom's I'jil Has ne'er disturbed that stul)'»>rn soil : 7') [I J MAKE THE BEST OF YOURSELF. 11' ! 76 THE INFLUENCE OF HOME. 77 Yet care and culture might have l)rouj(ht The ore of truth from mines of thought ; Anfl fancy's fairest flowers had bloomed Where truth and fancy lie intombed. Insult him not — Ins blackest crime May, in his Maker's c>e sublime, In spite of all thy pride, be less Than e'en thy daily waywardness; Than many a sin and many a staia Forgotten and impressed again. There is in every human heart Some not completely barren part, Where seeds of truth and love might grow And flowers of generous virtue blow : To plant, to watch, t • water there— This, as our duty, be our care ! And sweet it is, the growth to trace, Of worth, of intellect, of grace. In bosoms where our labors first Bid the young seed of spring-time burst. And lead it on from hour to hour, To ripen into perfect power. John Bowkino. Importance of Self-Culture. The best teachers have been the readiest to recognize the importance of self-cultn and of stimulating the student to acquire knowledge by the active exercise of his own faculties. They have relied mr^re upon training than upon telling, anj sought to make their pupils themselves active parties to the work in which they were engaged ; thus making teaching something far higher than the mere passive reception of the scraps and details of knowledge. This was the spirit in which the great Dr. Arnold worked ; he .-strove to teach his pupils to rely upon themselves, and develop their powers by their own active efforts, him- self merely guiding, directing, stimulating and encouraging them. " I would far rather," he said, "send a boy to Van Diemen's Land, where he must work for his bread, than send him to Oxford to live in luxury, without any desire in his mind to avail himself of his advantages. " If there be one thing on earth," ho observes on another occasion, " which is truly admirable, it is to .see God's wisdom blessing an inferiority of natural powers, when they have been honestly, truly and zealously cultivated." Speaking of a pupil of this character, he said, " I would stand to that man hat in hand." Benefits of Labor. Practical success in life depends more upon physical hcaKl; than is generally imagined. An Engl'-h officer, writing home to a friend, said, "I t'v,!ieve if I get on well in Lndia, it will be owing, physically speaking, to a sound digestion." The capacity for continuous working in any calling must necessarily depend in a grer.t measure upon this ; and hence the necessity for attending to health, even as a means of intellectual labor. It is jxirhaps to the neglect of physical exercise that we find among students so frequent a tendency toward discontent, unhappiness, ion and reverie — displaying itself in con- tempt for real life and disgust at the beaten tracks of men — a tendency which in England has been called Pyronism, and in Germany Wertherism. .Cr. Channing, of Boston, noted the same growth, which led him to make the remark, that " too many of our young men grow up in a school of despair." The only remedy for this green-sickness in youth is physical exercise — action, work and bodily occupation. The great divine, Jeremy Taylor, says, " Avoid idleness and fill up all the .spaces of thy time with severe and useful employment ; for lust easily creeps in at those emptinesses where the soul is unemployed and the body is at ease ; for no easy, healthful, idle person was ever chaste, if he could be tempted; but of all employments bodily labor is the most useful, and of the greatest benefit for driving away the »' ;vil." II''' i -X^ 7.S tHE INFLUENCE OF HOME. 7t> The use o^ early labor in self-imposed mechanical employments may be illustrated by the boyhootl of Sir Isaac Newton. Though comparatively a dull scholar, he was very assiduous in the use of his .saw, hammer and hatchet — " knocking and hanmicring in his lodging room" — making models of wind- mills, carriages and machines of all sorts ; and as he grew older, he took delight in making little tables and cupboards for his friends. ■ Smeaton, the eminent engineer, Watt, the discoverer of tiie steam engine in its present form, and Stephenson, the famous builder of light-houses, were equally handy with tools when mere bo)-s ; and but for such kind of self-culture in their youth, it is doubt- ful whether they would have accomplished so much in their manhood. Such was also the early training of the great inventors and mechanics whose contrivance and intelligence were practically trained by the constant use of their han4s iji early life. ValucL-of* Early Training. Thor.i^:. Edison, whose discoveries in electricity have given him world-wide fame, showed in youth a^ passionate fondness for science and an industr}' no less great. He was always playing with lightning. If he had been indolent, a do-nothing, instead of a hard worker, the world would never have heard from him. Even where men belonging to the manual labor class ha\e risen above it, and become more purely intellectual laborers, they have found tl/C adv'antages of their early training in their later pursuits. Elihu Burritt says he found hard labor necessary to enable him to study with effect ; and more than once he gave up school-teaching and study, and taking to his leather apron again, went back to his blacksmith's forge and anvil for hLs health of body and mind's sake. The training of young men in the use of tools would, ;it the same time that i' edu- cated them in "common things," teach theni the use of their hands and arms, familiarize them with healthy work, exercise their facul- ties upon things tangible and actual, give them some practical acquaintance with me- chanics, impart to them the ability of being useful, and implant in them the habit of persevering physical effort. What a Great Preacher Said. The success of even professional men depends in no .slight degree on their physical health ; and a public writer has gtine so far as to say that "the greatness of our great men is quite as much a bodily affair as a mental one." One of America's greatest preachers was accustomed to say he was a.s. much indebted for success to what was. below his neck as to what was above it. He meant that a strong, .sound body was something he could not dispense with, and this had been in large part the secret of hi.s. achievements A healthy breathing appa- ratus is as indispensable to the successfu.. lawyer or politician as a well-cultured intel- lect. The thorough aeration of the blood by free exposure to a large breathing surface in the lungs, is necessary to maintain that full vital power on which the vigorous work- ing of the brain in so large a measure de- pends. Though Sir Walter Scott, when at Edin- burgh College, went by the name of " The Greek Blockhead," he was, notwithstanding his lameness, a remarkably healthy Vjputh : he could spear a salmon with the best fisher on the Tweed, and ride a wildihqrse witnttny hunter in Yarrow. When dev^ilg himseli in after life to literary pursuits, Sir Walter never lost his ta.ste for field sports-, but while writing "Waverley" in the morning, he i - i 80 MAKK THE BEST OF YOURSELK t f would in the afternoon course hares. Pro- fessor Wilson was a very athlete, as great at throwing the hammer as in his flight of eloquence and poetry; and Burns, when a youth, was remarkable chiefly for his leaping and wrestling. Physical Energy. Some of the greatest divines were distin- guished in their youth for their physical energies. Isaac Barrow, when at the Charter- house School, was notorious for his pugilistic encounters, in which he got many a bloody nose ; Andrew Fuller, when working as a farmer's lad at Soham, was chiefly famous for his skill in boxing; and Adam Clarke, when a boy, was only remarkable for the strength displayed by him in " rolling large stones about" — the secret, possibly, of some of the power which he subsequently dis- played in rolling forth large thoughts in his manhood. Bishop Pliillips Brooks was a man of hnmcnse physique and strength. It is related of him that when traveling in Europe with two good-sized trunks, if he had any difficulty in procuring a cabman to transport him and his baggage a half mile or mile, he took a trunk in each hand and v/alked away as if carrying only a couple of hand-bags. The strength of his thoughts was propor- tioned to the strength of his body. The lawyer in full practice, and the Con- gressional leader in full work, are called upon to display powers of physical endur- ance and activity even more extraordinary than those of the intellect — such powers as were exhibited in so remarkable a degree by Webster, John C. Calhoun and William Wirt, of Virginia. It is astoni.slnng how much may be accomplished in .self-cuUure by the energetic and the perseveriiig, who are careful to avail themselves of opportunities, and use up the fragments of spare time which the idle per- mit to run to waste. Thus Ferguson learned astronomy from the heavens while wrapped in a sheep-skin on the highland hills. Thus Stone learned mathematics while working as a journeyman gardener; thus Drew .studied the highest philosophy in the intervals of mending shoes; thus Hugh Miller taught himself geology while working as a day- laborer in a quarry; and thus Dr. Edward Hitchcock, President of Amherst College, Mass., won his fame in science while tramp- ing over fields and climbing mountains in pursuit of health. His vast stores of in- formation and his brilliant discoveries were equalled only by his lofty character, of which humility and a devout spirit were the most conspicuous traits. The Success of Drudgery. Sir Joshua Reynolds, the renowned painter, as we have already observed, was so earnest a believer in the force of industry, that he held that all men might achieve excellence if th-y would but exerci>e the power of assiduous and patient working. He held that drudgery lay on the road to genius, and that there was no limit to the proficiency of an artist except the limit of his own painstaking. He would not believe in what is called inspi- ration, but only in study and labor. " Excel- lence," he said, " is never granted to man but as the reward of labor." " If you have great talents, industry will improve them ; if you have but moderate abilities, industry will supply the dcficienc)'. ITothing is denied to well-directed labor ; nothing is to be obtained witliout it." Sir Fowell Buxton was an equal believer in the power of study ; and he entertained the mod jst idea that he could do as well as other men if he devoted to the pursuit double the tiiac aiid laooi that they THE INFLUENCE OF HOME. 81 he do ;he ley did. He placed his great confidence in ordinary means and extraordinary applica- tion. "I have known several men in my life," says a close observer, " who may be reco^f- nizcd in days to come as men of genius, and (licy were all plodders, hard-working, intent men. Genius is known by its works ; genius withoiit works is a blind faith, a dumb oracle. But meritorious works are the result of time and labor, and cannot L accomplished by intention or by a wish. Every great work is the result of vast preparatory training. Facility comes by labor. Nothing seems easy, not even walking, that was not difficult at first. The orator whose eye ilashcs instantaneous fire, and whose lips pour out a flood of noble thoughts, .startling by their unexpectedness and elex'ating by their wisdom and truth, has learned his secret by patient repetition, and after many bitter disappoint- r.ients." The Power of Application. Thoroughness and accuracy are two prin- cipal points to be aimed at in study. Francis Horner, in laying down rules for the cultiva- tion of his mind, placed great stress upon the habit of coniinuou.; application to one subject for the sake of mastering it thoroughly ; he confined himself with this object to only a few books, and resisted with the greatest firmness " every approach to a habit of desul- tory reading." The value of knowledge to any man consists not in its quantity, but mainly in the good uses to which he can apply it. Hence a little knowledge of an exact and perfect character is always found more valuable for practical purposes than any extent of superficial learning. By spreading our efforts over too large a surface we inevitably wc"ken our force, hinder our progress, and acquire a habit of fitfulness and ineffective working. Lord St. Ix>onard.s once communicated to Sir Fowell Buxton the mode in which he had conducted his studies, and thus explained the secret of his success: "I resolved," said he, "when beginning to read law, to make everything I acquired perfectly my own, and never to [;o to a second thing till I had entirely accom- plished the first. Many of my competitors read as much in a day as I read in a week; but, at the end of twelve months, my know- ledge was as fresh as the day it was acquired, while theirs had glided away from recol- lection." Have a Definite Aim. It is not the quantity of study that one gets through, or the amount of reading, that makes a wise man ; but the advantage of the study to the purpose for which it is pursued; the concentration of the mind, for the time being, on the subject under consideration ; and the habitual discipline by which the whole .system of mental application is regu- lated. Abernethy was even of oijinion that there was a point of fulness in his own mind, and that if he took into it something more than it could hold, it only had the effect of pushing something else out. Speaking of the study of medicine, he said : " If a man has a clear idea of what he desires to do, he will seldom fail in selecting the proper means of accomplishing it." The most profitable study is that which is conducted with a definite aim and object. By thoroughly mastering any given branch of knowledge we rentlc* it more available for use at any moment. Hence it is not enough merely to have book.':, or to know where to read for information as we want it. Practical wisdom, for the purposes of life, must be carried about with us, and be ready for use at call. It is not sufficient that we have 82 MAKE THE BEST OF YOUK i:LI' a fund laid up at home, but not a nickel in the pocket ; we must cany about with us a store of the current coin of knowkdj;e ready for exch.m^e on all occasions, else we are comparatively helpless when the opportunity foi usini; it occurs. Decision and promptitude are as requisite in self-culture as in business. The growth of these qualities may be encouraged by accustoming younj^ people to rely upon their own resources, lcavin<; them to enjoy as much freedom of action in early life as is practicable. Too much guidance and re- straint hinder the formation of habits of self-help. They are like bladders tied under the arms of one who has not taught himself to swim. Want of confidence is perhaps a greater obstacle to improvement than is generally imagined. It has been said that half the failures in life arise from pulling in one's horse while he is leaping. Self-Confidence a Good Thing. Dr. Johnson was accustomed to attribute his success to confidence in his own powers. True modesty is quite compatible with a due esteem of one's own merits, and does not demand the abnegation of all merit. Though there are those who deceive themselves by putting a false figure before their ciphers, the want of confidence, the want of faith in one's self, and consequently the want of prompti- tude •■:. action, is a defect of character which is found to stand very much in the way of individual progress ; and the reason why so little is done is generally because so little is attempted. There is usually no want of desire on the part of most persons to arrive at the results of self-culture, but there is a gre.it aversion to pay the inevitable price for it, of hard work. Dr. Johnson held that " impatience of study was the mental disease of the present generation ; " and the remark is still applicable. We may not believe that there is a royal road to learning, but we seem to believe very firmly in the "popular" one. In education, we invent labor-saving proces.ses, seek short cuts to science, learn French and Latin " in twelve lessons," or " without a master." We resemble the lady of fashion, who engaged a master to teach her on condition that he did not plague her with verbs and participles. We get our smattering of science m the same way ; we learn chemistry by listening to a short course of lectures enlivened by experiments, and when we have inhaled laughing-gas, seen green water turned to red, and phos- phorus burned in o.xygen, we have got our smattering, of which the most that can be .said is, that though it may be better than nothing, it is yet good for nothing. Thus we often imagine we are being educated while we are only amused. Charles Dudley Warner makes the amus- ing suggestion that some enterprising Yan- kee will yet invent a machine whereby a young man or woman can drop a nickel in the slot and pull out an education. Shirking Hard Work. The faculty with which young people are thus induced to acquire knowledge, without study and labor, is not education. It occu- pies but does not enrich the mind. It imparts a stimulus for the time, and produces a sort of intellectual keenness and clever- ness; but without an implanted purpose and a higher object than mere pleasure, it will bring with it no solid advantage. In such cases knowledge produces but a passing impression; a sensation, but no more. Thus the best qualities of many minds, those which are evoked by vigorous effort and independent action, sleep a deep sleep, and THE INFLUENCK OF HOME H.'J Lices L'vcr- ;ind will uch ssing iriuis hose and , and arc often never called to life, except by the roii^di awakening of sudden calamity or' suffering, which, in such cases, comes as a blessip}^ if it serves to r(Jiise up a courageous spirit that, but for it, would have slept on. A^ccustomed to acquire information under the guise of anuisement, young people will soon reject that which is presented to them under the asiject of study and labor. Learn- ing their knowledge ruiil science in sjjort, they will be too apt to make sport of both; while tlie habit of intellectual dissipation, tluis engendered, cannot fail, in course of time, to produce a thoroughly emasculating effect both upon their mind and character. "Multifarious reading," said Robertson of Brighton, "weakens the mind like smoking, and is an excuse for its lying dormant. It is tile idlest of all idlenesses, and leaves more of impotency than any other." The evil is a growing one, and operates in various ways. Its least mischief 's shallow- ness ; its greatest, the aversion to steady labor which it induces, and the low and feeble tone of mind which it encourage.-,. If we would be really wise, we must diligent'y apply ourselves, antl confront the same con- tinuous application \\I;ich our fcjrcfathers did ; ffir labor is still, and ever will be, the inevit- able price set upon everything which is valuable. We must be satisfied to work with a purpose, and wait the result with patience. ShalloH^ Knowledge. A little Icaniiiij.'- is a il:uii;erous tiling ; iJrink deep, m iste ; ol llie I'ierian spring ; There shallow iliaiiglus inloxiialc- the brain, And drinking largely sobers us again. Find ftt first sight with what the Muse iiuparts, In fearless youth we teiiiiit the luiy;hls of arts, While fnnn tlic Imuiided level ot our niind Short, \ lews we take, nor see the lengths behind : But more advanced, behold the stnuige surprise. New distant sceiws of endless science rise ! So pleased at first the lowering Alps we try. Mount o'er tho vales, une4M<>fiil cri ations into foinis Am4 f#>ax*« <*( licillHc, and they coino And tempt vou \\\\\\ liewlMcriu),' j^nui to kneel, And drink nl l\lu wllil wsllers; and i)ehind Stand the strong Passions, pleading to go in ; An- stain, 'twill strengthen your prond wing; " And in the wild andiition of llie soul We drink anew, and dream like Lucifer To mouut upon our daring draught to heaven. N. \: Wiuua. The possession of the mere materials of knowledge is sometiiing very different from wisdom and understanding, which are reached through a higher kind of discipline than that of reading — which is often but a mere passive reception of other men's thoughts; there being little or no active effort of mind in the transaction. Then how much of our reading is but the indulgence of a sort of intellectual dram-drinking, imi)arting a grateful e.vcite- ment for a moment, without the slightest effect in improving and enriching the mind or building up the character. Thus many indulge th-jm.selves in the conceit that they are cultivating their minds, when they arc only employed in the humbler occui)ation of killing time, of which perhaps the best that can be .said is, that it kee[)s them from doing worse things. It is also to be borne in mind that the experience gathered from books, th(JUgh often valuable, is but of the nature of /cam ing; whereas the experience gained fronr actual life is of the nature oi icnsiioiii ; a!id a small store of the latter is worth \astl)' more than any stock of the former. Some one has truly .said that " Whatever study tends neither directly nor indirectly to make us better men and citizens, is at best but a specious and ingcliioim sort of idleness, and the kt^tiwledge we acquire by it only a creditaule kind nf ignorance — nothing more." The Grtat Charter of Liberty. Useful and iiistnicti\e though good read- ing may be, it is yet only one mode of cultivating the mind ; and is much less influ- ential than practical experience and good example in the formation of charac ter. There were wise, valiant and true-heartc d men bred in I'jigland long before the existence of a reading public. Magna Charta, that great charter of human rights, was secured by men I I ffiriMITilMitrfnyiiliaiiiii'-^-''"- -"---■ ~-^>^^:.f-.^^.t - . ,,_ 0} < < i li f I i i<' THE BEAUTIES OF AUTUMN. at IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) i.O UiBM 125 1.1 m u IM liSSl HA FhotogFapfaic ScisKes CorporaUQii '^^ 33 WKT MAM STRHT VinMTia.N.Y. t49M (71*)«72-4MS '^1^ M MAKIC THE BKST OK YOURSKLI*. who signed tlic deed with their marks. Tliougli alto^'elher unskilled in tlu; art of deciphering the literary sij^ns In- which principles were denominated upon |)aper, they yet understood and api)reciated, and boldly contended for, the thinLjs themselves. Thus the foumlations of lumlish lihcrtv were John Hunter could barely read or write when he was twenty j-ears old, though lie could make tables and chairs with any car- penter in the trade. " I never read," said tlie jrrcat physiologist when lecturing before his class, "this' — pointing to some part of the subject before him — "this is the work laid by men who, though illiterate, were | that you must study if you wish to become nevertheless of the very highest stamp of cliaracter. The Declaration of Independence. It is worth noting that, at the time of our American Revolution, eilucation was so widely diffused that those who pledged "life, liberty and sacred honor " in the immortal Declaration of Independence did it, not by making their marks, but by signing their names witli their own hands. They were intelligent, educated men. They could think, and could .see the results of their thinking and their action. They were not all eminent scholars, but they knew enough to make America free, and there was no call just then eminent in your profession." When told th.at one of his contemporaries had charged him with being ignorant of the dead lan- guages, he .said: "I would undertake to teach him concerning the human body what he never knew in any language, dead or Jiving." The True Object of Knowledge. It is not then how much a man may know, that is of importance, but tiie end and pur- pose for which he knows it. The object of knowledge should be to mature wisdom and improve character, to render us better, happier and more useful ; more benevolent, more energetic, and more cfficieit in the for any higher attainments. They had know- i pursuit of every purpose in life. When ledge enough to do what needed to be done, i people once fall into the habit of admiring wliich was far better than to have the pro- foundest learning, yet without the practical wisdom that rendered our country free and independent. It must be admitted that the chief object of culture is, not merely to fill the mind with other men's thoughts, and to be the passive and encouraging ability as such without reference to maral character — and religious and political opinions arc the concrete form of moral character — they are on the highway to all sorts of degradation. We must ourselves de and /fo, and net rest satisfied merely with reading and meditating recipient of their impressions of things, but | over what other men have been and done, to enlarge our individual intelligence, and j Our best light m t be made life, and our render us more useful ami efficient workers in the sphere of life to which we may be called. Many of the most energetic and useful workers have been but .sparing readers. Ihindley and Stephenson did not learn to best thought action. At least we ought to be able to say, as Richter did, " I have made as much out of myself as could be made of the stuff, and no man should require more;" for it is every man's duty to discipline and guide read and write until they reached manhood, ' himself, with God's help, according to his and )et they did great works and lived i responsibilities and the faculties with which manly lives. ' he has been endowed. TMIC INFLUIONJI-: OF HO.MK 87 ?5cff-disciplinc and self-control are the bc- ^inniir^s jf practical wisdom ; and these must liavc their root in self-respect. I lopc springs from it — hope, which is the compan- ion of power, and the motlier of success ; ^ for who hopes strongly has within liim the gift of miracles. The humblest may say : "To respect myself, to develo]) myself — this is my true duty in life. An integral and responsible part of the great system of .society, I owe it to .society and to its Author not to degrade or destroy either ni}' bodj', mind or instincts. On the contrary, I am boimd to the best of my power to give to those parts of my constitution the highest degree of perfection possible. I am not only to supp .'css the evil, but to evoke the good elements in my nature. And as I respect my.self, so am I equally bound to respect others, as they on tlieir part are bound to respect me." Hence mutual re- spect, justice and order, of which law becomes the written record and guarantee. Revej ence Yourself. Self-re.spect is the noblest garment with which a man may clothe himself — the most elevating feeling with which the mind can be inspired. One of Pythagoras' wisest max- ims, in his " Golden Verses," is that with ■which he enjoins the pupil to "reverence himself." Borne up by this high idea, he will not defile his body by sensualit)-, nor his mind by servile thoughts. This senti- ment carried into daily life, will be found at the root of all the virtues — cleanliness, so- briety, chastity, morality and religion. "The pious and just honoring of our- selves," said Milton, "may be thought the radical moisture and fountain-head from whence every lauilable and worthy enterprise issues forth." To think meanly of one's self, is to sink in one's own estimation as well as in the estimation jf others. And as the tiioughts arc, so will the acts be. Man cannot aspire if he looks down; if he will rise, he must look up. The very humblest may be sustained by the proper ind'ilgenco of this feeling. Poverty itself may be lifted and lighted up by self-respect; and it is truly a noble sight to see a poor man hold himself upright amid liis temptations, and refuse to demean himself by low actions. The Best Investment. One wa\- in which self-culture may be degraded is by regarding it too exclusively as a means of "getting on." Viewed in this light, it is unquestionable that education is one of the best investments of time and labor. In any line of life, intelligence will enable a man to adapt him.self more readily to circumstances, suggest improved methods of working, and render him more apt, skilled and effective in all respects. He who works with his head as well as his hands, will come to look at his business with a clearer eye; and he will become con- .scious of increasing power — perhaps the most cheering consciousness the human mind can cherish. The power of self-help will gradually grow ; and in proportion to a man's self-respect, will he be armed against the temptation of low indulgences. Society and its actions will be regarded with quite a new interest, his sympathies will widen and enlarge, and he will thus be attracted to work for others as well as for himself. :.m\ ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS. CHAPTER V. THE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS. F the home, by example and pre- cept, teaches children what they ought to be, there is a reasona- ble certainty that they will succeed in after-life. All true success must be in themselves. It is not something that will come by luck or chance — not something that they can find and pick up as a boy might find a silver dollar in the street — not something that can be made for them and thrust upon them. But suppose your children do not gain an overwhelming amount of worldly success. It is better that they should be worthy in character and life than that they should rule .nations. Henry Clay once said, "I would rather be right than to be President." " Not all who seem to fail have failed indeed ; Not all who fail have therefore worked in vain ; For all our acts to many issues lead ; And out of earnest purpose, pure and plain. Enforced by honest toil of hand or brain. The Lord will fashion, in His own good time (Be this the laborer's proudly humble creed), Such ends as, to His wisdom, fitlicst chime With His vast love's eternal harmonies. There is no failure for the good and v uc : What though thy seed should fall by the wayside And the birds snatch it; — yet the birds are fed; Or they may bear it far across the tide, To give rich harvests after thou art dead." Self-culture may not end in eminence. The great majority of men, in all times, however enlightened, must necessarily be engaged in the ordinary avocations of in- dustry; and no degree of culture which can be conferred upon the community at large will ever enable them — even were it desira ble, wl-.ich it is not — to get rid of the daily work of society, which must be done. But this, we think, may also be accomplished. We can elevate the condition of labor by allying it to noble thoughts, which confer a grace upon the lowliest as well as the high- est rank. For no matter how poor or humble a man may be, the great thinker of this and other days may come in and sit down with him, and be his companion for the time, though his dwelling be the mean- est hut. Society in Yourself. It is thus that the habit of well-directed reading may become a source of the greatest pleasure and self-improvement, and exercise a gentle coercion, with the most beneficial results, over the whole tenor of a man's character and conduct. And even though self-culture may not bring wealth, it will at all events give one the companionship of elevated thoughts. A nobleman once con- temptuously asked of a sage, " What have you got by all your philosophy? " "At least I have got society in myself," was the wise man's reply. But many are apt to feel despondent, and become discouraged in the work of self- culture, because they do not " get on " in the world so fast as they think they deserve to do. Having planted their acorn, they e.xpect to see it grow into an oak at once. They have perhaps looked upon knowledge in the light of a marketable commodity, and are 89 H \^' M W) THK IXFLUKNCK OF HOMK. c()i)sc(iiu;ntly mortified Iiccausc it docs not sell as tlioy cxpcctctl it would do. To rcyard self-culture either as a means of getting past otlicrs in the world, or of intellectual dissipation and amusement, rather than as a power to elevate the character and expand the spiritual nature, is to place it on a very low level. To use the words of Bacon, "Knowledge is not a shop for profit or sale^ but a rich storehouse ft, I am growing a wiser man, which is far better. Pain, poverty, and all the other wild beasts of life which so affrighten others, J am so bold as to think I could look in the face without shrinking, without losing respect ft)r myself, faith in man's iiigh destinies, or trust in God. There is a point which it costs much mental toil anc' struggling to gain, but which, when once gained, a man can look down from, as a traveler from a lofty mount- ain, on .storms raging bel(t invariably be;^an with defeats. Moreau used to be cccomplish it. Thus diPPciilties often fall away of themselves before the determination to overcome them. "fry; Try Again." Much will be done if we do but try Nobody knows what he can do till he !ias tried ; and few try their best till they have bc-n forced to do it. " If \ could do such and such a thing," si^hs the desponding youth. But nothing will be done if he only wishes. The desire must ripen into purpose and effort; and one energetic attempt is worth a thousand aspirations. It is these thorny " ifs " — the mutterings of impotence and despair — which so often hedge round the field of possibility, and prevent anything being done or even attempted. " A diffi- culty," says a well-known author, " is a thing to be overcome ; " grapple with it at once ; facility will come with practice, and strength and fortituc ^ with i -^peated effort. Thus the mind and character may be trained to an almost perfect discipline, and enabled to act with a grace, spirit and liberty, almost incom- prehensible to those who have not passed through a similar experience. Everything that we learn is the ma.stery of a difficulty ; and the mastery of one helps to the mastery of others. Things which rnay at first sight appear comparatively valueless in education — such as the study of the dead languages, and the relations of lines and sur- faces which we call mathematics — are really of the greatest practical value, not so much because of the information which they yield, as because of the development which they compel. The mastery of these studies evokes effort, and cultivates powers of appli- cation, which otherwise might have lain dormant. Thus one thing leads to another, and so the work goes on through life — encounter with difficulty ending only when life and culture end. But indulging in the feeHng of discc uragement never helped anyone over a difficulty, and never will, D'Alembert's advice to the student who complai led to him about his want of success in mastering the first elements of mathematics was the right one, " f^o oil, sir, and faith and strength will come to you." Henry Clay's Advice to Young Men. The danseuse who turns a pirouette, the violinist who plays a sonata, ha^e acquired their dexterity by patient repetition and after many failures. Carissimi, when praised for the ease and grace of his melodies, exclaimed, " Ah I you little know with what difficulty this ease has been acquired." Sir Joshua Reynolds, when once asked how long it had taken him to paint a certain picture, replied, "All my life." When Dr. Lyman Beecher was asked how long it took him to prepare or" of his mas- terly discourses that had just electrified thousands, he promptly replied, " Forty years." Henry Clay, when giving advice to young men, said, "I owe my success in life to one circumstance, that at the age of twenty-seven I began and continued for years, the process of daily reading and speaking upon the contents of some histori- cal or scientific book. These off-hand efforts were made, sometimes in a corn-field, at others in the forest, and not unfrequently in some distant barn, with the horse and the ox for my auditors. It is to this early practice of the art of all arts that I am indebted for the primary and leading im- ' ft '■ 1' 1 I'l' :, II:' 'I |iji FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND, ,ii;'^ 98 THE influp:nce of home. pulses that stimulated me onward and have shaped and mouldec^ my whole subsequent destiny." Curran, the Irish orator, when a youth, had a strong defect in his articulation, and at school he was known as "stuttering Jack Curran." While he was engaged in the study of the law, and still struggling to over- come his defect, he was stung into eloquence by the sarcasms of a member of a debating club, who characterized him as "Orator Mum ; " for, like Cowper, when he stood up to speak on a previous occasion, Curran had not been able to "tter a word. The taunt stung him and he replied in a triumphant speech. Practice Makes Perfect. This accidental discovery in himself of the gift of eloquence encouraged him to proceed in his studies with renewed energy. He corrected his enunciation by reading aloud, emphatically and distinctly, the best passages in literature for several hours every day, studying his features before a mirror, and adopting a method of gesticulation suited to his rather awkward and ungraceful figure. He also proposed cases to himself, which he argued with us much care as if he had been addressing a jury. Curran began business with the qualifica- tion which Lord Eldon stated to be the first requisite for distinction, that is, "to be not worth a shilling." While working his way laboriously at the bar, still oppressed by the diffidence which had overcome him in his debating club, he was on one occasion pro- voked by the Judge (Robinson) into making a very severe retort. In the case under dis- cussion, Curran observed, "that he had never met the law as laid down by his lordship in any book in his library." " That may be, sir," said the judge, in a conteniptuous tone, "but I suspect that your library is very small." His lordship was notoriously a furious political parti-san, the author of several anonymous pamphlets characterized by un- usual violence and dogmatism. Curran, roused by the allusion to his straightened circumstances, replied thus : " It is very true, my lord, that I am poor, and the circumstance has certainly curtailed my library ; my books are not numerous but they are select, and I hope they have been perused with proper dispositions. I have prepared myself for this high profession by the study of a few good works, rather th^ n by the composition of a great many bad ones. I am not ashamed of my poverty; but I should be ashamed of my wealth, could I have stooped to acquire it by servility and corruption. If I rise not to rank, I shall at least be honest ; and should I ever cease to be so, many an example shows me that an ill-gained elevation, by making me the more conspicuous, would only make me the more universally and the more notoriously contemptible." Honorable Poverty. Be thou clad in russet weed. Be thou decked in silken stole. Grave these counsels on thy soul : Say man's trae, genuine estimate. The grand criterion of his fate. Is not, art thou high or low? Did thy fortune ebb or flow ? Did many talents gild the span ? Or frugal nature grudge thee one '. Tell them, and press it on their mind, As thou thyself must shortly find, The smile or frown of awful Heaven To virtue or to vice is given. Say, to the just, and kind, and wise, There solid self-enjoyment lies ; That foolish, selfish, faithless ways, Ircad to the wretched, vile, and base. RoBBRT Burns. The extremest poverty has been no ob- stacle in the way of men devoted to the duty THE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS. 09 of self-culture. Professor Alexander Murray, the linguist, learned to write by scribbling his letters on an old wool-card with the end of a burned heather stem. The only book which his father, who was a poor shepherd, possessed, was a penny Shorter Catechism ; but that, being thought too valuable for common use, was carefully preserved in a cupboard for the Sunday catechizings. Pro- fessor Moor, when a young man, being too poor to purchase Newton's " Principia," bor- rowed the book, and copied the whole of it with his own hand. Many poor students, while laboring daily for their living, have only been able to snatch an atom of knowl- edge here and there at intervals, as birds do their food in winter time when the fields are covered with snow. They have struggled on, and faith and hope have come to them. The Pleasure of Hard Work. A well-known author and publisher, Wil- liam Chambers, of Edinburgh, speaking before an assemblage of young men in that city, thus briefly described to them his humble beginnings, for their encouragement : " I stand before you," he said, " a self- educated man. My education is chat which is supplied at the humble parish schools of Scotland; and it was only when I went to Edinburgh, a poor boy, that I devoted my evenings, after the labors of the day, to the cultivation of that intellect which the Al- mighty has given me. From seven or eight in the morning till nine or ten at night was I at my business as a bookseller's apprentice, and it was only during hours after these, stolen from sleep, that I could devote myself to study. I did not read novels : my atten- tion was devoted to physical science, and other useful matters. I also taught myself French. I look back to those times with great pleasure, and am almost sorry I have not to go through the same experience again ; for I reaped more pleasure when I had not a sixpence in my pocket, studying in a garret in Edinburgh, than I now find when sitting amid all the elegancies and comforts of a parlor." Story of Elihu Burritt. The story of the "learned blacksmith" is so interesting and instructive, and points so clearly to the true sources of success that we take pleasure in inserting it here. Elihu Burritt was the third son of a shoe- maker, the youngest of ten children. He was born in New Britain, Connecticut, on the 8th of December, 1810. The parents of this distinguished man w *rc a pious and amiable couple. When about sixteen years of age, Elihu was apprenticed to a black- smith and made his home with his brother Elijah, an educated man, who had been driven from Georgia because of his anti- slavery proclivities. At one and twenty, when Elihu's apprenticeship expired, he became a student with his brother, who was the village schoolmaster. At the close of the. term he returned to the shop, determined to make up the time he had lost, which he attempted to do by performing the work of two men and getting double pay. In 1 841 Burritt made his first appearance as a public lecturer, and about that time, or shortly after, he established a weekly paper entitled " The Christian Citisen." It was a very attractive, instructive and able paper. In its columns were articles of great value, and some of them have found their way into volumes of choice selections. In 1846 he made his first visit to England, where he published " Sparks from the Anvil." During the potato famine in Ireland, his appeals to his fellow-countrymen for aid met with generous responses. In 1863 Mr. Burritt I, ''!>'» Ill ■A\m P 100 THE INFLUENCE OF HOME. made a second visit to England, and during the summer season he walked from London to John O'Groat's, the most northern point of Scotland, and afterward gave an account of his journey in a fascinating book. Left an Honored Name. ^ Two years later, President Lincoln ap- apointed him to the office of U. S. Consul at Birmingham, and for five years he filled the position with honor to his country and credit to himself. His leisure was filled with litorary labor and occasional speech-making in favor of temperance, peace, international aibitration, coperative employment, cheap Postage, etc. He was an emphatic and enthusiastic advocate of peace, writing essays and delivering addresses, and doing all that he could to help the cause along. In 1870 he returned to his native town, where he died on the 8th of March, 1879. In the words of Mr. Frederick Sherlock, in his beautiful book entitled " Illustrious Ab- stainers," " He left to his country the sweet fragrance of a name which will be ever honored as amongst the noblest of the age in which he lived, and bequeathed to the ■world a glorious example of self-culture, which, we doubt not, will be potential for good through all time." What a lesson is here in the life of this good man. The son of a poor shoemaker; a blacksmith's apprentice and student; a journeyman, mastering many languages; a lecturer, editor and author; an iconoclast reformer, swinging his battle-axe with more force than he did the hammer ; a representa- tive man at home and abroad, admired and honored for his learning and culture, and for his great ability. Above and beyond all this, he was a modest. Christian gentleman, seeking in every way to proclaim the gospel of "peace on earth and goodwill to men." Some men are not so great in their own estimation as they are in that of others. What they have done has been the result of such a gradual preparation, that they are not conscious of their own power, and their deeds have been so long before the world that they have become household names. Some never blow their own trumpet, but keep them.selves quite behind the curtain, and present their cause in a modest, yet earnest manner. Such generally succeed in their undertakings, and eventually .secure lasting fame if their cause is a worthy one. His Works Spoke for Him. Those who talk about themselves more than about their cause are sure to fail, and th'^y merit the contempt they have earned. It is easy to be courageous when there is no danger, but cowardly in times of great diffi- culty. Some spend their time in boasting in a pompous manner what they intend to do, but never commence the task while others do the work, and let it speak for itself Elihu Burritt's works spoke for him. This remarkable man, who was a living, speaking polyglott,was also an excellent mathematician. Figures tumbled from his pencil like seeds from a sack. He commanded a graphic pen, and some of his essays and sketches arc classed with the best efforts in the language. He was also a good Samaritan, a philanthro- pist and reformer, with a soft heart in his bosom. Believing that God made of one blood all the nations of the earth, he aimed to unite them by the fraternal links of brother- hood. He looked upon war as an inexcusable evil, and labored manfully for its extinction. He would dismantle the arsenal, disband the army, spike the cannon and rcforge the sword and cutlass, turning them into agricultural implements. He would take our ships of war and lade them to the water's edge with food tt m lo w; fo ca P< a aa THE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS 101 and clothing for the poor. He said the bal- last should be round clams, or the real juahaugs, heavy as cast-iron and capita! for roasting. Then he would build along up, filling every square inch with well-cured pro- provisions. He would have a hogshead of bacon mounted into every porthole, each of which should discharge fifty hams a minute when the ship was brought into action, and thrown into Keil by the besieging armies ; he would barricade the low, narrov/ streets with loaves of bread, would throw up a breastwork clear around the market-place of barrels of flour, pork and beef, and in the ' middle raise a stack of salmon and codfish as large as a Methodist meeting-house, with a steeple to it, and the bell should ring to all the city bells, and the city bells should ring THE SOLDIER S DREAM. die state-rooms should be filled with well- made garments, and the taut cordage and the long tapering spires should be festooned with boys* jackets and trowsers. Then, when there should be no more room for another codfish or herring or sprig of catnip, he would run up the white flag of peace. He would throw as many hams into a famine-stricken city in twenty-four hours as there were bomb-shells and cannon-balls to all the people to come to market and buy provisions without money and without price And white flags should everywhere wave in the breeze on the vanes of steeples, on mastheads, on flagstones along the embat- tled walls, on the ends of willow sticks borne by romping, laughing, trooping children. All the blood-colored drapery of war should bow and blush before the stainless standard of peace. ff 'iH 1 1 1 1 s- m 103 THE INFLUENCIC OF HOME. It is a notable fact that the great majority of American boys who have become famous had to struggle hard with poverty. It is related of Martin Van Buren that he used to learn his lessons in the evening by the light of a pine knot, blazinjr in the old country fireplace. This was cheaper t'lan even a tallow candle. A Poor, Barefooted Boy. Sir Walter Scott was accustomed to cite the case of his young friend John Leyden as one of the most remarkable illustrations of the power of perseverance which he had ever known. The son of a shepherd in one of the wildest valleys in Roxburgshire, he was almost entirely self-educated. Like many Scotch shepherds' sons — like Hogg, who taught himself to write by copying the letters of a printed book as he lay watching his flock on the hillside — like Cairns, who from tending sheep on the Lammermoors, raised himself by dint of application and industry to the professor's chair which he filled with honor — like Murray, Ferguson and many more, Leyden was early ins^/ired by a thirst for knowledge. When a poor barefooted boy he walked si.x or eight miles across the moors daily to learn reading at the little village schoolhouse of Kirkton ; and this was all the education he received ; the rest he acquired for himself He found his way to Edinburgh to attend the college there, setting the extremest pen- ury at defiance. He was first discovered as the frequenter of a small booksellers' shop kept by Archibald Constable, afterward so i well known as a publisher. He would pass hour after hour perched on a ladder in mid- air, with some great folio in his hand, forget- ful of the scanty meal of bread and water which awaited him at his miserable lodging. Access to books and lectures comprised all within the bounds of his wishes. Thus h* toiled and battled at the gates of science unti) his unconquerable perseverance carried every* thing before it. Before he had attained his nineteenth year he had astonished all the professors in Edin- burgh by his profound knowled'je of Greek and Latin, and the general mass of informa- tion he had acquired. Having turned his views to India, he sought employment in the civil service, but failed. He was, however, informed that a surgeon's assistant's commis- sion was open to him. But he was no surgeon, and knew no more of the profes- sion than a child. He could, however, learn. Then he was told that he must be ready to pass in six months! Nothing daunted, he took his degree with honor. Scott and a few friends helped to fit him out; and he sailed for India, after publishing his beautiful poem, " The Scenes of Infancy." In India he promised to become one of the greatest of Oriental scholars, but was unhappily cut off by fever caught by exposure, and died at an early age. A Dull Genius. The life of the late Dr. Lee, Professor of Hebrew at Cambridge, furnishes one of the most remarkable instances in modern times of the power of patient perseverance and resolute purpose in working out an honor- able career in literature. He received his. education at a charity school at Lognor, Shrewsbury, but so little distinguished him- self there, that his master pronounced, him one of the dullest boys that ever passed through his hands. He was put apprentice to a carpenter, and worked at that trade until he arrived at man- hood. To occupy his leisure hours he took to reading ; and, some of the books contain- ing Latin quotations, he became desirous of THE ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS. 108 ascertaining what they meant. He bought a Latin grammar, and proceeded to learn Latin. As Stone, tlie Duke of Argyle's gardener, said, long before, " Docs one need to know anything more than the twenty-four letters in order to learn everything else that one wishes." Lee rose early and sat up late, and sat up late, and he succeeded in mastering the Latin before his apprenticeship was out. While working one day in some place of worship, a copy of a Greek Testament fell in his way, and he was immediately filled with the desire to learn that language. He accordingly sold some of his Latin books, and purchased a Greek Grammar and Lexi- con. Taking pleasure in learning, he soon mastered the language. "The Learned Carpenter." Then he sold his Greek books, and bought Hebrew ones, and learned that language, unassisted by any instructor, without any hope of fame or reward, but simply following the bent of his genius. He next proceeded to learn the Chaldee, Syriac and Samaritan dialects. But his studies began to tell upon his health, and brought on disease in his eyes through his long night-watchings with his books. Having laid them aside for a time and recovered his health, he went on with his daily work. His character as a tradesman being excellent, his business im- proved, and his means enabled him to marry, which he did when twenty-eight years old. He determined now to devote himself to the maintenance of his family, and to re- nounce the luxury of literature; accordingly he sold all his books. He might have con- tinued a working carpenter all his life, had not the chest of tools upon which he de- pended for subsistence been destroyed by fire, and destitution stared him in the face. He was too poor to buy new tools, so he bethought him of teaching children their let- ters — a profession requiring the least possi- ble capital. But though he had mastered many languages, he was so defective in the common branches of knowledge, that at first he could not teach them. Resolute of pur- pose, however, he assiduously set to work, and taught himself arithmetic and writing to such a degree as to be able to impart the knowledge of these branches to little chil- dren. The Top Round of the Ladder. His unaffected, simple and beautiful char- acter gradually attracted friends, and the acquirements of the "learned carpenter" became bruited abroad. Dr. Scott, a neigh- boring clergyman, obtained for him the appointment of master of a charity school in Shrewsbury, and introduced him to a distinguished Oriental scholar. These friends supplied him with books, and Lee succes- sively mastered Arabic, Persic and Hin- dostanee. He continued to pursue his studies while on duty as a private in the local militia of the county; gradually acquir- ing greater proficiency in languages. At length his kind patron. Dr. Scott, enabled Lee to enter Queen's College, Cambridge; and after a course of study, in which he distinguished himself by his mathematical acquirements, a vacancy occurring in the professorship of Arabic and Hebrew, he was worthily elected to fill the honorable office. Besides ably performing his duties as a professor, he voluntarily gave much of his time to the instruction of missionaries going forth to preach the Gospel to Eastern tribes in their own tongue. He also made transla- tions of the Bible into several Asiatic dia- lects; and having mastered the New Zealand language, he arranged a grammar and 1:;: ] 1:^ 'I 1,1 '1 H i' 'ill Mi ( '! iiii. ii 104 THK INFLUKNCK OK HOME. vocabulary for two New Zealand chiefs who were then in ICnjjIancI, which books are now in ilaily use in the Now Zealand schools. Such, in brief, is the remarkable history of Dr. Samuel Lee; and it is but the counter- part of numerous similarly instructive exam- ples of the power of perseverance in self- culture, as displayed in the li\ es of many of the most distinguished of our literary and scientific men. An Iron Will and a Stout Heart. Faith, firmness, confidence, consistency — these are well allied ; Yea, let a man press on in aught, he shall not lack of honor : For such a one seemeth as superior to the native instability of creatures ; That he doeth, he doeth as a god, and men will marvel at his courage. Ftcu in crimes, a partial praise cannot t>c deuieil to daring, Ane but the frivolous or the indolent will .say, " I am too old to learn." Men who Move the World. And here we would repeat what we have said before, that it is not men of genius who move the world and take the lead in it, so much as men of steadfastness, purpose and indefatigable industry. Notwithstanding the many undeniable instances of the precocity of men of genius, it is nevertheless true that early cleverness gives no indication of the height to which the grown man will reach. Precocity is sometimes a .symptom of disease rather than of intellectual vigor. What becomes of all the "remarkably clever children?" Where are the prodigies and prize-boys? Trace them through life, and it will frequently be found that the dull boys, who were beaten at school, have shot ahead of them. The clever boys are re- warded, but the prizes which they gain by their greater quickness and facility do not always prove of use to them. What ought rather to be rewarded is the endeavor, the struggle and the obedience; for it is the youth who does his best, though endowed with an inferiority of natural powers, that ought above all others to be encouraged. An interesting chapter might be written III o h The Royal Road. One step I see litfore iiu' ; 'TU ttll I need to Bee ; The H^ht uf heaven more )>ri^htl shines Wb«n earth's illusions flee, Auu sweetly through the silence conies His loving " Follow Me." Where He may lead I'll follow, My trust in Him repose, And every hour in perfect p«ac» I'll sing, "He knows, He U»ow8." blissful lack of wisdom, 'Ti? blessed not to know ; He holds me with His own right hani* And wiU not let me go, And lulls my troubled soul to res» In Him who loves me so. So on I go, not knowing, I would not if I might ; I'd rather walk in the dark with God Than go alone in the light ; I'd rather walk by faith with Him Than go alone by sight Mary G. Brainard. :'! 1 > "i| 'I, "I . i' 1. 'I: I ■l|Pl 4^iiip^ I I I I |ii|iiiwjli..«|aiii I 100 THK ROYAL ROAD TO SUCCESS. on the subject of illustrious dunces — dull boys, but brilliant men. We have room, however, for only a few instances. Isaac Newton, when at school, stood at the bot- tom of the lowest form but one. The boy above Newton havinfj kicked him, the dunce showed his pluck by challenging him to a fight, and beat him. Then he set to work with a will, and determined also to vanquish his antagonist as a scholar, which he did, rising to the top of his class. Brilliant Dunces. Many of our greatest divines have been anything but precocious. Isaac Barrow, when a boy at the Charterhouse School, was notorious chiefly for his strong temper, pugnacious habits, and proverbial idleness as a scholar; and he caused such grief to his parents that his father used to say that, if it pleased God to take from him any of his children, he hoped it might be Isaac, the least promising of them all. Adam Clarke, when a boy, was proclaimed by his father to be "a grievous dunce;" though he could roll large stones about. The well-known Dr. Chalmers and Dr. Cook, late Professor of Moral Philosophy at St. Andrew's, were boys together at the parish school ; and they were found so .stupid and mischievous, that the maste-. irritated beyond measure, dis- missed them both as incorrigible dunces. The brilliant Sheridan showed so little capacity as a boy, that he was presented to a tutor by his mother with the complimen- tary accompaniment that he was an incor- rigible dunce. Walter ScolC was all but a ked at it; I THK INI'LUKNCK Ol" HOMK. 107 li;i\c been engaijci! in mastering tlic rccita- lion of yesterday or the tlay before.' The result was that lie jjracliiated seventeenth in a class of seventy. Tiiere was probably in the whole class not a boy to whom Jackson at the outset was not inferior in knowlcd^'e and jitt.'inments; but at the end of the race he had only sixteen before him, and had out- stripped no fewer than fifty-three. It used to be said of him by his contemporaries, that if the course had been for ten years inste.id of four, Jackson would have graduated at the head of his class." The Swift Tortoise. John Howard, the philanthropist, was another illustrious dunce, learning next to nothing during the seven years that he was at .school. The brilliant Sir Humphry Davy was no cleverer than other boys : his teacher. Dr. Cardew, once said of him: "While he was with me I could not discern the faculties by which he was so much distinguished." Indeed, Davy himself in after life considered it fortunate that he had been left: to " enjoy so n^uch idleness" at .school. Watt was a dull scholar, notwithstanding the stories told about his precocity; but he was, what was better, patient and perseverant, and it was by such qualities, and by his carefully cultivated inventiveness, that he was enabled to perfect his steam-engine. What Dr. Arnold said of boys is equally true of men — that the difference between one boy and another consists not so much in talent as in energy. Given perseverance, and energy soon becomes habitual. Provided the dunce has persistency and application, he will inevitably head the cleverer fellow without those qualities. Slow but sure wins the race. It is perseverance that cxplams how the positions of boys at school are so often reversed in real life ; and it is curious to note how some who were then so clever have since become so commonplace ; while others, dull boys, of whom nothing was expected, slow in their faculties but sure in their pace, have assumed the position of leaders of men. The tortoise in the right road will beat a racer in the wrong. It matters not, though a youth be slow, if he be but diligent. Quickness of parts may even prove a defect, inasmuch as the boy who learns readily will ofken forget as readily ; and also because he finds no need of cultivating that quality of application and perseverance which the slower youth is compelled to exercise, and which proves so valuable an element in the forma- tion of every character. Davy said, " What I am I have made myself; " :ind the same holds true universally. To conclude: the best culture is not obtained from teachers when at school or college, so much as by our own diligent self-education when we have become men. Hence parents need not be in too great haste to see their children's talents forced into bloom. Let them watch and wait patiently, letting good example and quiet training do their work, and leave the rest to Providence. Let them see to it that the youth is i)rovided, by free exercise of his bodily powers, with a full stock of physical health ; set him fairly on the road of self-culture; carefully train his habits of application and perseverance ; and as he grows older, if the right .stuff be in him, he will be enabled vigorously and effectively to cultivate himself, and make sure of success. !l| li 1, 1 108 MANUAL TRAINING SCHOOL. CHAPTER VI. THE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE. OU may go to Hchool all your life and yet be a dunce. Your head may be a library stuffed with book knowledge, yet you may not know cnoujjh to hoe a hill of beans You may lack that practical wisdom and tact which make a success of life. You may be like the man who invented a folding-bcti, [,'ot shut up in it, set to work to invent a way to get out, while his wife with hammer and saw lihcratetl him just as he was about smothering to death. You may have talents bright as the sun, yet be dependent on very ordinary people. You may be a know-everything and a do-nothing. It is well to have knowledge and be famous for learning and general information. If success camo from the knowing, you would be fortunate. The world is fidl of learned dunces. They can expound politics, foretell the weather, quote history, spin theories as long as an ocean cable, discourse on phil- osophy and religion, be reckoned as men of wonderful attainments, and live on what their wives earn by doing washing for their neighbors. You may be a very successful dreamer and theorizer, yet in practical life — bread- and-butter life — you may be a big failure — a failure even compared with the dusky boot- black around the corner who can shine a pair of shoes and do it well. This is not saying knowledge and education are of no account ; it is saying that you may lack a certain tact, a power of applying what you know, and may utterly fail in the practical work of life. Who It-Hrim niul IcuniN, but iictH not what be knows, Ii one who plough* and plough*, but never low*. The world will not start of itself and go for you. You must make it go. It will not turn round while you look on and do noth- ing. It will turn round if you are at the crank to make it turn. Antl you must know how to do the turning. Do not .stand still and look on ; you may stand and stare until the heavens roll together and be no better for it. You cannot save your linen ; it will get soiled. Never mind, but roll up your sleeves and go at it. Better soiled linen than none at all. You cannot play the gentle- man if you ever expect to accomplish any- thing of importance. Of all the big fortunes in New York, Philadelphia, Chicago and other cities, every one was made by hard work and " horny hands ; " not one would know a pair of kid gloves without an intro- duction. You Must Face the Hard Facts. We have been speaking of practical wisdom, and practical wisdom is only to be learned in the school of experience. Pre- cepts and instructions are useful so far as they go, but, without the discipline of real life, they remain of the nature of theory only. The hard facts of existence have to be faced, to give that touch of truth to character which can never be imparted by reading or tuition, but only by contact with the broad instincts of common men and women. 109 '"'I'l J i., nil 110 THE INFLUENCE OF HOME. To be worth anything, character must be capable ut standing firm upon its feet in the world of daily work, temptation, and trial; and able to bear the wear-and-tear of actual life. Cloistered virtues do not count for much. The life that rejoices in solitude may be only rejoicing in selfishness. Seclusion may indicate contempt for others; though more usually it means indolence, cowardice, or self-indulgence. To every human being belongs his fair share of manful toil and human duty ; and it cnnnot be shirked with- out loss to the individual himself, as well as to the comminicy to which he belongs. You Mujt Know Yourself. It is only by mixing in the daily life of the world, and taking part in its affairs, that practical knowledge can be acquired and wisdom learned. It is there that we find our chief sphere of duty, that we learn the discipline of work, and that we educate ourselves in that patience, dilig^ince, and endurance which shape and consolidate the character. There we encounter the diffi- culties, trials, and temptations which, accord- ing as we deal with them, give a color to our entire after-life; and there, too, we become subject to the great discipline of suffering, from which we learn far more than from the safe seclusion of the study or the cloister. Contact with others is also requisite to enable a man to know himself. It is only by mixing freely in the world that one can form a proper estimate of his own capacity. Without such experience, one is apt to be- come conceited, puffed up, and arrogant; at all events, he will remain ignorant of him- self, though he may heretofore have enjoyed no other company. Swift once said : " It is an uncontroverted truth, that no man ever made an ill-figure who understood his own talents, nor a good one who mistook them." Many persons, however, are readier to take measure of the capacity of others than of themselves. " Bring him to me," said a certain Dr. Tronchin, of Geneva, speaking of Rous- seau — "bring him to me, that I may see whether he has got anything in him!" — the probability being that Rousseau, who knew himself better, was much more likely ♦:o take measure of Tronchin than Tronchin was to take measure of him. A due amount of self-knowledge is, there- fore, necessary for those who would />c any- thing or iio anything in the world. It is also one of the first essentials to the forma- tion of distinct personal convictions. Fred- erick Perthes once said to a young friend, "Y' - ':now only too well what you can do; but till you have learned what you cannot do, you will neither accomplish anything of moment nor know inward peace." The Value uf Common Sense. Any one who would profit by experience will never be above asking help. He who thinks himself already too wise to learn of others, will never succeed in doing anything c:«^her good or great. We have to keep our minds and hearts open, and never be ashamed to learn, with the assistance of those who are wiser and more experienced than our- selves. The man made wise by experience en- deavors to judge correctly of the things which come under his observation, and form the subject of his daily life. What we call common sense is, for the most part, tut the result of common experience wisely improved. Nor is great ability necessary to acquire it, so much as patience, accuracy and watchful- ness. Hazlitt thought the most sensible people to be met with are intelligent men THE SCHOOL OF EVE! YDAY LIFE. IV •n of business and of the world, who argue from what they see and know, instead of spinning cobweb distinctions of what th'!ngs ought to be. The Tact of V/omen. For the same reason, women often display more good sense than men, having fewer pretensions, and judging of things naturally, by the involuntary impression they make on the mind. Their intuitive powers are quicker, their perceptions more acute, their sympathies more lively, and their manners more adaptive to particular ends. Hence their greater tact as displayed in the management of others, women of apparently slender intellectual powers often contriving to control and regu- late the conduct of men of even the most impracticable nature. Pope paid a high compliment to the tact and good sense of Mary, Queen of William HL when he de- scrib».d her as possessing, not a science, but (what was worth all else) prudence. The whole of life may be regarded as a great school of experience, in which men and women are the pupils. As in a school, many of the lessons learned therfe must needs be taken on trust. We may not understand them, a.id may possibly think it hard that we have to learn them, especially where the teachers ate trials, sorrows, temptations and difficulties; and yet we must not only accept their lessons, but recognize them as being divinely appointed. To what extent have the pupils profited by their experience in the school of life? What advantage hcve they taken of their opportunities for learning? What have they gained in discipline of heart and mind? — how much in growth of wisdom, courage, self-control? Have they preserved their integrity amidst prosperity, and enjoyed life ia temperance and moderation? Or, has life been with them a mere feast of selfishness, without care or thought for others? What have they h ^rned from trial and adversity? Have they learned patience, submission and trust in God? Or have they learned nothing but impatience, querulousness and discon- tent? The results of experience are, of course, only to be achieved by living; and living is a question of time. The man of experience learns to rely upon time as his helper. "Time and I against any two," was a maxim of Cardinal Mazarin. Time has been de- scribed as a beautifier and as a consoler; but it is also a teacher. It is the food of experience, the soil of wisdom. It may be the friend or the enemy of youth; and time will sit beside the old as a consoler or as a tormentor, according as it has been used or misused, and the past life has been well or ill spent Tnc Web of Time. Ceaselessly the weaver. Time, Sitteth at his mystic loom. Keeps his arrowy shuttle flying — Every thread anears our dying — And with melancholy chime, Very low and sad withal. Sings his solemn madrigal As he weaves our web of doom. " Mortals ! " thus he, weaving, sings, " Bright or dark the web shall be, As ye will it, all the tissues Blending in harmonious issues Or discordant colorings ; Time the shuttle drives, but you Give to every thread its hue, And elect your destiny." W. H. BURI.EIGH. Making the Most of To-Day. For To^ay the lists are set, and thou must l^ear thee bravely, Tilting for honor, duty, life or death without re- proach : To-day is the trial of thy fortitude, O dauntless Mandan chief! I' ^ m I > 9 "im \'l'l 112 THK INFLUKNCK OK HOME. To-day is thy watch, O sentinel ; to-day thy reprieve, O captive ; What more? To-day is the golden chance wliere- with to snatch fruition. Be glad, grateful, temperate : there are asps among the figs. For the potter's clay is in thy hands, to mould it or to mar it at thy will. Or idly to leave it in the sun, an uncouth lump to harden. bright presence of To-day, let me wrestle with thee, gracious angel ; 1 will rot let thee go except thou bless me ; bless mc, then, To-day ; sweet garden of To-day, let nie gather of thse, precious Eden ; 1 have stolen bitter knowledge, give me fruits of life To-day ; true temple of To-day, let me worship Jn thee, glorious Zion ; 1 find none other place nor time than where I am To-day, living rescue of ToKlay, let me run unto thee, ark of refuge ; 1 see none other hope nor chance, but standeth in To-day ; rich banquet of To-day, let me feast upon thee, saving manna ; 1 have none other food nor store, but daily bread To-day ! M. F. TUPPER. Hovf to Meet Discouragements. To the young, how bright the new world looks! — how full of novelty, of enjoyment, of pleasure! But as years pass, we find the world to be a place of sorrow as well as of joy. As we proceed through life, many dark vistas open upon us — of toil, suffering, difficulty, perhaps misfortune and failure. Happy they who can pass through and amidst such trials with a firm mind and pure heart, encountering trials with cheer- fulness, and standing erect beneath even the heaviest burden ! A little youthful ardor is a great help in life, and is useful as an energetic motive- power. It is gradually cooled down by time, no matter how glowing it has been. while it is trained and subdued by cxpe< ricnce. But it is a healthy and hopeful indication of character — to be encouraged in a right direction, and not to be sneered down and repressed. It is a sign of a vigorous, unseir.ih nature, as egotism is of a narrow and selfish one; and to begin life with egotism and self-sufficiency is faial to all breadth and vigor of character. Life, in such a case, woald be like a year in which there was no spring. The Spring-Time of Life. Without a generous seed-time, there will be an unflowering summer and an unpro- ductive harvent. And youth is the spring- time of life, in which, if there be not a fair share of enthusiasm, little will be attempted, and still less done. It also considerably helps the working quality, inspiring confi- dence and hope, and carrying C". through the dry details of business and tluty with cheerfulness and joy. Joseph Lancaster, when a boy only four- teen years of age, formed the resolution ot leaving his home and going out to the West Indies to teach the poor blacks to read the Bible. And he actually set out with a Bible and "Pilgrim's Progress" in his bundle, and only a few shillings in his purse. He even succeeded in reaching the West Indies, doubt- less very much at a loss how to set about his proposed work; but in the mean time his distressed parents, having discovered whither he had gone, had him speedily brought back, yet with his enthusiasm unabated; and from that time forward he unceasingly devoted himself to the truly philanthropic work of educating the desitute poor. He was only twenty years of age when he opened his first school in a spare room in his father's house, which was soon filled with the THE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE. 113 M destitute children of the neighborhood. The room was shortly found too small for the numbers seeking admission, and one place after another was hired, until at length Lan- caster had a special building erected, capable of accommodating a thousand pupils, outside of which was placed the following notice: "All that will, may send their children here and have them educated freely; and those that do not wish to have education for noth- ing may pay for it, if they please." Perseverance of Columbus. There needs all the force that enthusiasm can give to enable a man to succeed in any great enterprise of life. Without it, the ob- -struction and difficulty he has to encounter on every side might compel him to succumb ; but with courage and perseverance, inspired by enthusiasm, a man feels .strong enough to face any danger, to grapple with any diffi- culty. What an enthusiasm was that of Columbus, who, be'ieving in the existence of a new world, braved the dangers of unknown seas ; and when those about him despaired and rose up against him, threatening to cast him into the sea, still stood firm upon his hope and courage until the great new world at length rose upon the horizon ! The brave man will not be baffled, but tries and tries again until he succeeds. The tree does not fall at the first stroke, but only by repeated strokes and after great labor. We may see the visible success at which a man has arrived, but forget the toil and suffering and peril through which it has been achieved. When a friend of Marshal Lefevre was complimenting him on his possessions and good fortune, the marshal said : " You envy mc, do you? Well, you shall have these things at a better bargain than I had. Come into the field : I'll fire at you with a gun twenty times at thirty paces, and if I don't kill you, all shall be your own. What! you won't! Very well; recollect, then, that I have been shot at more than a thousand times, and much nearer, before I arrived at the state in which you now find me ! " The apprenticeship of difficulty is one which the greatest of men have had to serve. It is usually the best stimulus and discipline of character. It often evokes powers of action that, but for it, would have remained dormant, As comets are sometimes revealed by eclipses, so heroes are brought to light by sudden calamity. It seems as if, in cer- tain cases, genius, like iron .struck by the flint, needed the sharp and sudden blow of adversity to bring out the divine spark. There are natures which blossom and ripen amidst trials, which would only wither and decay in an atmosphere of ease and comfort. Difficulties are Blessings. Thus it is good for men to be roused into action and stiffened into self-reliance by difficulty, rather than to slumber away their lives in useless apathy and indolence. It is the struggle that is the condition of victory. If there were no difficulties, there would be no need of efforts ; if there were no temptations, there would be no training in self-control, and but little merit in virtue; if there were no trial and suffering, there would be no education in patience and resignation. Thus difficulty, adversity, and suffering are not all evil, but often the best source of strength, discipline, and virtue. For the same reason, it is often of advan- tage for a man to be under the necessity of having to struggle with poverty and conquer it. "He who has battled," says Carlyle, " were it only with poverty and hard toil, will be found stronger and more expert than he who could stay at home from the battle, concealed among the provision wagons, or ,1 M "d W. \ !'lt ii vU 1; '. 114 THE INFLUENCE OF HOME. even rest unwatchfully 'abiding by the stuff.'" Scholars have found poverty tolerable compared with the privation of intellectual food. Riches weigh much more "leavily upon the mind. " I cannot but say to pov- erty." said Richter, " Be welcome I so that thou come not too late in life." Poverty Makes the World Rich. The Spaniards are even said to have meanly rejoiced in the poverty of Cervantes, but for which they supposed the production af his great works might have been pre- vented. When the Archbishop of Toledo visit'-U the French ambassador at Madrid, the gentlemen in the suite of the latter expressed their high admiration of the writ- ings of the author of " Don Quixote," and !!.)timated their desire of becoming acquainted with one who had given them so much pleasure. The answer they received was, that Cervantes had borne arms in the service of his country, and was now old and poor. "What ! " exclaimed one of the Frenchmen, *' is not Senor Cervantes in good circum- stances ? Why is he not maintained, then, out of the public treasury?" "Heaven forbid!" was the reply, "that his necessities should be ever relieved, if it is those which make him write ; since it is his poverty that makes the world rich ! " It is not prosperity so much as adversity, not wealth so much as poverty, that stimu- lates the perseverance of strong and healthy natures, rouses their energy and develops their character. Burke said of himself: " I was not rocked and swaddled and dandled into a legislator. ' I strive against opposi- tion ' is the motto for a man like you." Some men only require a great difficulty set in their way to exhibit the force of their character and genius ; and that difficulty, once conquered, becomes one of the greatest incentives to their farther progress. It is a mistake to suppose that men suc- ceed through success; they much oftener succeed through failure. Soon after Dr. Stephen H. Tyng took charge of his first church in North Carolina he was to have a number of prominent men, lawyers, judges and others, ir, his congregation one Sabbath morning, and attempted, as usual, to deliver an unwritten sermon. The result was a flat failure. On the way home his wife said, "I trust you will now give up the idea of ever becoming an extempore preacher; better stick to your notes." The prompt, emphatic reply was, "I will become an extempore speaker." The early failures ended in brilliant successes, and afterward for many years, while settled in Nev/ York, Dr. Tyng was considered the most gifted and eloquent pbitform orator of his time. On every great occasion his presence was eagerly sought, and thousands hung upon his lips with delight. He was a man whom failures could not defeat. Success Through Failure. By far the best experience of men is made up of their remembered failures in dealing with others in the affairs of life. Such fail- ures, in sensible men, incite to better self- management, and greater tact and self-con- trol, as a means of avoiding them in the future. Ask the diplomatist, and he will tell you that he has learned his art through being baffled, defeated, thwarted and cir- cumvented, far more than from having suc- ceeded. Precept, study, advice and example could never have taught them so well as failure has done. It has disciplined them experimentally, and taught them what to do as well as what not to do— which is often still more important. Grandmother's Thoughts. W HAT happy thoughts are flitting (While Grandmamma sits knitting) Throughout the aged heart still true and strong ? Ah I 'tis just the same old story, She is giving Christ the glory For thr. mercies which have blessed her life so loag. " For like stitches on my needles," says 'his happy Grandma Gray, " So He multiplies my blessings and increases them each day." 115 III 11 'll;.' I I! li i i'Hf M i"i= ;'!!rtl 116 THE INFLUENCE OF HOME. Many have to make up their minds to encounter failure again and again before they succeed; but if they have pluck, the failure will only serve to rouse their courage, and (Stimulate them to renewed efforts. Talma, the greatest of actors, was hissed off the stage when he first appeared on it. Lacor- daire, one of the greatest preachers of mod- ern times, only acquired celebrity after re- peated failures. Montalembert said of his first public appearance in the Church of St. Roch : " He failed completely, and, on com- ing out, every one said, ' Though he may be a man of talent, he will never be a preacher." " Again and again he tried, until he succeeded; and only two years after his first appearance, Lacordaire was preaching in Notre Dame to audiences such as few French orators have addressed since the time of Bossuet and Massillon. Rising Above Failures. When Mr. Cobden first appeared as a speaker, at a public meeting in Manchester^ he completely broke down, and the chair- man apologized for his failure. Sir James Graham and Mr. Disraeli failed and were derided at first, and only succeeded by dint of great labor and application. At one time Sir James Graham had almost given up public speaking in despair. He said to his friend Sir Francis Baring: "I have tried it every way— extempore, from notes, and committing all to memory — and I can't do it. I don't know why it is, but I am afraid I shall never succeed." Yet, by dint of perseverance, Graham, like Disraeli, lived to become one of the most effective and im- pressive parliamentary speakers. Failures in one direction have sometimes had the effect of forcing the far-seeing stu- dent to apply himself in another. When Boileau, educated for the bar, pleaded his first cause, he broke down amidst shouts of laughter. He next tried the pulpit, and failed there too. And then he tried poetry, and succeeded. Fontenelle and Voltaire both failed at the bar. So Cowper, through his diffidence and shyness, broke down when pleading his first cau.se, though he lived to revive the poetic art in England. Montes- quieu and Bentham both failed as lawyers, and forsook the bar for more congenial pur- suits — the latter leaving behind him a treas- ury of legislative procedure for all time. Goldsmith failed in passing as a surgeon; but he wrote the "Deserted Village" and the "Vicar of Wakefield." The Blind Chaplain. Even the privation of some important bodily sense, such as sight or hearing, has not been sufficient to deter courageous men from zealously pursuing the struggle of life. Milton, when struck by blindness, "still bore up and steered right onward." His greatest works were produced during that period of his life in which he suffered most — ^when he was poor, sick, old, blind, slandered and persecuted. Rev. W. H. Milbum was blind from early childhood, yet this did not prevent him from becoming one of the most popular preachers in America. By his retentive memory he could repeat a considerable part of the Bible, and in the pulpit would repeat long chapters instead of reading them as preachers do who have eyesight. His remarkable gifts ele- vated him to the chaplaincy of the House of Representatives at Washington, and after- ward to that of the Senate. Obstacles that many persons would consider insurmountable only spur on a man of will and perseverance, and often such men achieve greater distinc- tion than they do wh.o have everything in their favor. 3 ft i I'M 1 i ^^^^H j.,JwSM|t ' .'r i"# •■^ ^^^^^^^^^^M ^^^^^^^^^H V '^^^^SB^^Ef ■ J :f),ii ■': ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^1 ^^^H ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H f-^B^S^ ' -" ^ Mi' ^^^^^^^H 1 ■ Hr:'-^/ ^^^^^^H ■ I i ] I t s V tl F si id t\ th by ini in na g" th< qu ser qu( suf life Pei to intc for yea «L THE SCHOOL OF EVERYDAY LIFE. 117 The lives of some of the greatest men have been a continuous struggle with diffi- culty and apparent defeat. Dante produced his greatest work in penury and exile. Ban- ished from his native city by the local faction to which he was opposed, his house was given up to plunder, and he was sentenced, in his absence, to be burned alive. When informed by a friend that he might return to Florence, if he would consent to ask for pardon and absolution, he replied : " No ! This is not the way that shall lead me back to my country. I will return with hasty steps if you, or any other, can open to me a way that shall not derogate from the fame or the honor of Dante ; but if by no such way Florence can be entered, then to Florence I shall never return." His enemies remaining implacable, Dante, after a banishment of twenty years, died in exile. Disastrous Adventures. Camoens also wrote his great poems mostly in banishment. Tired of solitude at Santarem, he joined an expedition against the Moors, in which he distinguished himself by his bravery. He lost an eye when board- ing an enemy's ship in a sea-fight. At Goa, in the East Indies, he witnessed with indig- nation the cruelty practised by the Portu- gue.se on the natives, and expostulated with the governor against it. He was in conse- quence banished from the settlement, and sent to China. In the course of his subse- quent adventures and misfortunes, Camoens suffered shipwreck, escaping only with his life and the manuscript of his " Lusiad." Persecution and hardship seemed everywhere to pursue him. At Macao he was thrown into prison. Escaping from it, he set sail for Lisbon, where he arrived, after sixteen years' absence, poor and friendless. His "Lusiad," which was shortly after pub- lished, brought him much fame, but no money. But for his old Indian slave Antonio, who begged for his master in the streets, Camoens must have perished. As it was he died in a public alms-house, worn out by disease and hardship. An inscription was placed over his grave : " Here lies Luis do Camoens : he excelled all the poets of his time : he lived poor and miserable ; and he died so." This record, disgraceful but truthful, has since been removed ; and a lying and pomp- ous epitaph, in honor of the great national poet of Portugal, has been substituted in its stead. Men of Spite and Meanness. Tasso, also, was the victim of almost con- tinual persecution and calumny. After lying in a mad-house for seven years, he became a wanderer over Italy ; and when on his death-bed, he wrote : " I will not complain of the malignity of fortune, because I do not choose to speak of the ingratitude of men who have succeeded in dragging me to the tomb of a mendicant." But time brings about strange revenges. The persecutors and the persecuted often changeplaces ; it is the latter who are great — the former who are infamous. Even the names of the persecutors would probably long ago have been forgotten, but for their connection with the history of the men whom they have persecuted. Thus, who would now have known of Duke Alfonso of Ferrara, but for his imprisonment of Tasso? Or, who would have heard of the existence of the Grand Duke of Wurtemburg of some hundred years back, but for his petty perse- cution of Schiller ? Science also has had its martyrs, who have fought their way to light through diffi- culty, persecution, and suffering. We need II' !! M HI |i Its THE INFLUKNCK OF HOME. not refer again to the cases of Bruno, Galileo, and otiicrs, persecuted because of the sup- posed heterodoxy of their views. But there have been other unfortunates ainon^ men of science, whose genius has been unable to save them from the fury of their enemies. Priestley's House was Burned. Thus Bailly, the celebrated French astron- omer (who had been mayor of Paris), and Lavoisier, the great chemist, were both guil-* lotincd in the first French Revolution. When the latter, after being sentenced to death by the Commune, asked for a few days' respite, to enable him to ascertain the result of some experiments he had made during his confine- ment, the tribunal refused his appeal, and ordered him for immediate execution, one of the judges saying that " the Republic had no need of philosophers." In England also, about the same time. Dr. Priestley, the fiither of modern chemistry, had his house burned over his head, and his library de- stroyed, amidst shouts of "No philosophers ! " and he fled from his native country to lay his bones in a foreign land. The work of some of the greatest discov- erers has been done in the midst of persecu- tion, difficulty and suffering. Columbus, who discovered the New World and gave it as a heritage to the Old, was in his lifetime persecuted, maligned and plundered by those whom he had enriched. Mungo Park's drowning agony in the African river he had discovered, but which he was not to live to describe; Clapperton's perishing of fever on the banks of the great lake, in the heart of the same continent, which was afterwards to be rediscovered and described by other ex- plorers; Franklin's perishing in the snow — it might be after he had solved the long- sought problem of the Northwest Passage — are among the most melancholy events in the history of enterprise and geniu.«. Sue* cess and .suffering often go together. Courageous men have often turned en- forccrd solitude to account in executing works of great pith and moment. It is in .solitude that the passion for spiritual per- fection best nurses itself The soul com- munes with itself in loneliness until its energy often becomes intense. But whether a man profits by solitude or not will mainly depend upon his own temperament, training and character. While, in a largc-natured man, solitude will make the pure heart purer, in the small-natured man it will only serve to make the hard heart still harder; for though solitude may be the nurse of great spirits, it is the torment of small ones. John Bunyan in Jail. During his thirteen years imprisonment in the Tower, Raleigh wrote his " History of the World," a project of vast extent, of which he was only able to finish the first five books. Luther occupied his prison hours in the Ca.stle of Wartburg in trans- lating the Bible, and in writing the famous tracts and treatises with which he inundated all Germany. It was to the circumstance of John Bunyan hji.ving been cast into jail that we probably owo the " Pilgrim's Progress." He was thus driven in upon himself; having no opportunity for action, his active mind found vent in earnest thinking and meditation ; and indeed, after his liberation, his life as an author virtually ceased. His "Grace Aboundi.ig" and the "Holy War" were also written in prison. Bunyan lay in Bedford Jail, with a few inter .s of pre- carious liberty, during not less than twelve years; and it was most probably to his prolonged imprisonment that we owe what THE SCHOOL OF KVKRYDAY LIFE. 119 Macaulay has characterized aa the finest allei^ory in the world. A Quaker railed on Bunyan one day with "a message from the Lord," saying he had been to half the jails of England, and was glad at last to have found him. To which Runyan replied: "If the Lord sent thee, you would not have needed to take so much trouble to find me out, for He knew that I have been in Bedford Jail these seven years past." William Penn in Prison. Charles H imprisoned Baxter, Harrington (the author of "Oceana"), William Penn, and many more. All these men solaced their prison hours with writing. Baxter Wrote some of the most remarkable pas- sages of his "Life and Times" while lying in the King's Bench Prison; and Penn wrote his " No Cross, no Crown " while imprisoned in the Tower. In the reign of Queen Anne, Matthew Prior was in confinement, on a vamped-up charge of treason, for two years, during which he wrote his "Alma, or Pro- gress of the Soul." Since then, political prisoners of eminence in England have been comparatively few in number. Among the most illustrious were De Foe, who, besides standing three times in the pillory, spent much of his time in prison, writing " Robinson Crusoe" there, and many of his best political pamphlets. There, also, he wrote his "Hymn to the Pillory," and cotrected for the press a collection of his voluminous writings. Louis Kossuth, the great Hungarian pa- triot, orator and statesman, was imprisoned two years at Buda. He got hold of a copy of Shakespeare and occupied his time in learning the English language, so that dur- ing a subsequent visit to America, where he received immense ovations from our entire people, he surprised all who heard him by his wonderful command of our language and by his amazing eloquence. I le stepped from prison to a position compared with which thrones were cheap. Men who, like these, suffer tlic penalty of law, and seem to fail, at least for a time, do not really fail. Many, who have seemed to fail utterly, have often exercised a more potent arid enduring influence upon their race than those whose career has been a course of uninterrupted success. The char- acter of a man does not depend on whethei his efforts are immediately followed by fail- ure or by success. The martyr is not a failure if the truth for which he suffered acquires a fresh lustre through his sacrifice. To Lose Life is to Save It. The patriot who lays down his life for his cause may thereby hasten its triumph ; and those who seem to throw their lives away in the van of a great movement often open a way for those who follow them, and pass over their dear! bodies to victory. The triumph of a just cause may come late ; but when it does come, it is due as much to those who failed in their first efforts as to those who succeeded in their last. The example of a great death may be an inspiration to othen , as well as the example of a good life. A great act does not perish with the life of him who performs it, but lives and grows up into like acts in those who survive the doer thereof and cherish his memory. Of some great men, it might almost be said that they have not begun to live until they have died. The names of the men who have suffered in the cause of religion, of science, and of truth, are the men, of all others, whose memories are held in the greatest esteem and reverence by mankind. They perished. m M m l» THK INFLUKNCK OF HOME. but their truth survived. They seemed to fail, and yet they eventually succeeded. Prisons may have licid them, but their thou(;hts were not to be confined by prison- walls. They have burst throu(;h, and defied the power of their persecutors. It was Love- lace, a prisoner, w!io wrote : "Stone wnllH do not u priHon make, Nur iron barH ii ca^e ; Min