of crowding cares; and darkness that now seats you despondent, in your solitary chair for days together, weaving bitter fancies, dreaming bitter dreams, would grow light and thin, and spread, and float away,-chased by that beloved smile. * * * * Then those children, rosy, fair-haired; no, they did not disturb you with their prattle now-they are yours! Toss away there on the greensward-never mind the hyacinths, the snowdrops, the violets, if so be any are there; the perfume of their healthful lips is worth all the flowers of the world. No need now to gather wild bouquets to love and cherish: flower, tree, gun, are all dead things; things livelier hold your soul. You have no need now of any cold lecture to teach thankfulness: your heart is full of it. No need now, as once, of bursting blossoms, of trees taking leaf and greenness, to turn thought kindly, and thankfully; for ever, beside you, there is bloom, and ever beside you there is fruit, for which eye, heart, and soul are full of unknown, and unspoken, because unspeakable, thankoffering. Donald G. Mitchell in Reveries of a Bachelor. RICHARD STEELE'S WIFE "It was Steele (says Mr. Thackeray, in one of the most fascinating pages of his lectures), who first began to pay a manly homage to the goodness and understanding, as well as the tenderness and beauty of women. In his comedies, the heroes do not rant and rave about the divine beauties of Floriana or Statira, as the characters were made to do in the chivalry romances and the high-flown dramas just going out of vogue; but Steele admires women's virtues, acknowledges their sense, and adores their purity and beauty with an ardor and strength which should win the good-will of all women to their hearty and respectful champion." "It is this ardor, this respect, this manliness which makes his comedies so pleasant and their heroes such fine gentlemen. He paid the finest compliment to a woman that perhaps ever was offered. Of one whom Congreve had also admired and celebrated, Steele says, 'To have known her was a liberal education.' 'How often,' he writes, dedicating a volume to his wife, 'how often has your tenderness removed pain from my sick head, how often anguish from my afflicted heart! If there are such beings as guardian angels, they are thus employed. I cannot believe one of them to be more good in inclination, or more charming in form than my wife.' His breast seems to warm and his eyes to kindle when he meets with a good and beautiful woman, and it is with his heart as well as his hat that he salutes her. About children, and all that relates to home, he is not less tender, and more than once speaks in apology of what he calls his softness; he would have been nothing without that delightful weakness." The time is past when it can be considered a weakness for a man to care greatly for home and to interest himself profoundly in its affairs. THE FIRST BOY There was a time when you thought all babies very much alike: alike? Is your boy like anything, except the wonderful fellow that he is? Was there ever a baby seen, or even read of, like that baby! Look at him: pick him up in his long, white gown: he may have an excess of color, but such a pretty color! he is a little pouty about the mouth-but such a mouth! His hair is a little scant, and he is rather wandering in the eye: but, goodness me! heavens-what an eye! There was a time, when you thought it very absurd for fathers to talk about their children; but it does not seem at all absurd now. You think, on the contrary, that your old friends, who used to sup with you at the club, would be delighted to know how your baby is getting on, and how much he measures around the calf of the leg! If they pay you a visit, you are quite sure they are in an agony to see Frank; and you hold the little squirming fellow in your arms, half conscience-smitten, for provoking them to such envy, as they must be suffering. How eagerly you watch the first tottering step of that boy: how you riot in the joy and pride, that swell in that mother's eyes, as they follow his feeble, staggering motions! Can God bless his creatures, more than he has blessed that dear Madge and you? Has heaven even richer joys, than live in that home of yours? By and by, he speaks; and minds tie together by language, as the hearts have long tied by looks. He wanders with you, feebly, and with slow, wondering paces, upon the verge of the great universe of thought. His little eye sparkles with some vague fancy that comes upon him first, by language. Madge teaches him the words of affection, and of thankfulness; and she teaches him to lisp infant prayer; and by secret pains, (how could she be so secret?) instructs him in some little phrase of endearment, that she knows will touch your heart; and then, she watches your coming; and the little fellow runs. toward you, and warbles out his lesson of love, in tones that forbid you any answer-save only those brimming eyes--turned first on her, and then on him; and poorly concealed, by the quick embrace, and the kisses which you shower in transport!-Donald G. Mitchell. Children, look into those eyes, listen to that dear voice, notice the feeling of even a single touch that is bestowed upon you by that gentle hand! Make much of it while you have that most precious of all gifts, a loving mother. Read the unfathomable love of those eyes, the deep anxiety of that tone and look, however slight your pain. In after life you may have friends-fond, dear, kind friends; but never will you have again the inexpressible love and gentleness lavished upon you which none but a mother can bestow. TEACHING THE BIBLE TO CHILDREN The teaching of the Bible to children is, of course, a matter of especial interest to those of us who have families-and, incidentally, I wish to express my profound belief in large families. Older folks often fail to realize how readily a child will grasp a little askew something they do not take the trouble to explain. We cannot be too careful in seeing that the biblical learning is not merely an affair of rote, so that the child may understand what it is being taught. And, by the way, I earnestly hope that you will never make your children learn parts of the Bible as punishment. Do you not know families where this is done? For instance: "You have been a bad child-learn a chapter of Isaiah." And the child learns it as a disagreeable task, and in his mind that splendid and lofty poem and prophecy is forever after associated with an uncomfortable feeling of disgrace. I hope you will not make your children learn the Bible in that way, for you can devise no surer method of making a child revolt against all the wonderful beauty and truth of Holy Writ. Probably there is not a mother or a school teacher here who could not, out of her own experience, give instance after instance of the queer twists that the little minds give to what seem to us perfectly simple sentences. Now, I would make a very strong plea for each of us to try and see that the child understands what the words mean. I do not think that it is ordinarily necessary to explain the simple and beautiful stories of the Bible; children understand readily the lessons taught therein; but I do think it necessary to see that they really have a clear idea of what each sentence means, what the words mean. Probably some of my hearers remember the old Madison Square Presbyterian Church in New York when it was under the ministry of Dr. Adams, and those of you who remember the Doctor will, I think, agree with me that he was one of those very rare men with whose name one instinctively tends to couple the adjective "saintly." I attended his church when I was a little boy. The good Doctor had a small grandson, and it was accidentally discovered that the little fellow felt a great terror of entering the church when it was vacant. After vain attempts to find out exactly what his reasons were, it happened late one afternoon that the Doctor went to the church with him on some errand. They walked down the aisle together, their steps echoing in the vacant building, the little boy clasping the Doctor's hand and gazing anxiously about. When they reached the pulpit he said, "Grandpa, where is the zeal?""The what?" asked Dr. Adams. "The zeal," repeated the little boy; "why, don't you know, 'the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up?'" You can imagine the Doctor's astonishment when he found that this sentence had sunk deep into his little grandson's mind as a description of some terrific monster which haunted the inside of churches.-President Roosevelt. Great men are they who see that spiritual is stronger than any material force, that thoughts rule the world.-Emerson. SOME HONEY-BEES BE CONSIDERATE No one would think of speaking harshly to a friend or a guest. Surely the members of our own family are entitled to as much consideration as our friends or guests. Yet how many times do we find fault in the home circle for little things that we would hardly notice elsewhere? Nothing is worse in the family circle than nagging. There will be no nagging where each one in the family is considerate of the feelings of others. BE PATIENT When your child asks a question be patient enough to answer him. It is the child's right to be taught, and he can learn only by asking questions. Do not worry. Too many people have an idea that it is their duty to worry. They give a mistaken meaning to "worry." Looking out for the future is not "worrying," and "worrying" is not looking out for the future. It is when all worry has been put aside that one can best prepare for the future. What friction is to the mechanical world worry is to the mental machinery. It retards motion and lessens force. Nature never worries. . BE HELPFUL Too many young people get the notion that their parents who provide the home must be the only ones to make it attractive. Every boy and every girl can be helpful at home. They can help father and mother in a host of little things, and they can help in the pleasures of home life. The boy or girl who finds the mother busily sewing for him or her can easily spend a half hour reading aloud from the mother's favorite book or paper. The daughter who has been taught to play on the piano can often smooth the wrinkles out of her tired and careworn father's brow by playing for him his favorite pieces. BE TRUTHFUL... · Let every member of your family learn that you are to be trusted. It is a painful thing when children are found questioning the things they are told by father or mother, but they learn to do so very quickly when parents get into the habit of deceiving them. There should be no secrets between husband and wife, or parent and child. "Honesty is the best policy" in the home as well as in the business world. If you cannot answer truthfully the questions put to you in the home circle, do not answer at all. "A man should never be ashamed to own that he has been in the wrong," Alexander Pope wrote. "It is but saying in other words that he is wiser to-day than he was yesterday." -From "A Swarm of Bees" in the New Century Home Book. MY DAUGHTER'S HUSBAND Every mother has not only a right but a duty in relation to a child's marriage. You often hear a man of very moderate desert say that he requires in a wife virtue, birth, breeding, beauty, good-nature, education, money, and other superlative gifts; so why shall a mother be less demanding in behalf of her daughter? It will then go without saying that this husband of a sweet and innocent and carefully reared girl shall be a satisfactory specimen of the race, manly, brave, and good to look upon. That means that he will have good health; and, having good health, he will have good nature. Unselfishness is the first positive quality that I should require. With unselfishness there will be that generosity which not only gives with an open hand, but which so regards the feelings and wishes of others as to make ill-temper and dark moods impossible. With unselfishness there will be self-restraint and sobriety and honesty and fidelity. With unselfishness, again, will be purity-the safeguard of home.— Harriet Prescott Spofford. THE OLD FISHERMAN I feel for mariners of stormy nights And feel for wives that watch ashore, Ay, ay! To speak to thee; but in the Book 'tis writ, As I hear say from others that can read, My lads are drowned; I buried my poor wife; That mostly I forget what they were like. Thou knowest, Lord; they were such little ones. Comfort them, save their honest boys, their pride, And let them hear next ebb the blessedest, Best sound-the boat keels grating on the sand.-Jean Ingelow. |