"Be courteous," said St. Peter, and he stipulated that we were to be. courteous to one another "as brethren." The character of a people, their degree of advancement in civilization and religion, can be rated by the manner in which they practice the small amenities of daily life. As the savage becomes informed, he asks: "What is the right thing for me to do?" As he advances farther, he questions: "What is the right way in which to do the right thing? Barbarians have said: "Speak the truth." It remained for the Christian apostle to command that the truth be spoken "in love." The more advanced, the more cultivated the home, the finer will be the grace with which the small courtesies of every-day life are performed; little amenities may be perpetually recurring helps and benedictions-constant reminders that

Love and faith are at our side,

And common life is glorified.

Take the cheerful breakfast room, for instance, however humble-every meal and room can be cheerful, you know-and let everybody enter it with a

hearty, ringing, loving "Good morning "-meaning just that-good morning; and does not the whole day run more smoothly for being started right?

THE MOTHER'S ROOM

The core of the house, the dearest place, the one that we all love best,
Holding it close in our heart of hearts, for its comfort and its rest,

Is never the place where strangers come, nor yet where friends are met
Is never the stately drawing-room, where our treasured things are set.
Oh, dearer far as the time recedes in a dream of colors dim,
Breathing across our stormy moods like the echo of a hymn,
Forever our own, and only ours, and pure as a rose in bloom,

Is the centre and soul of the old home nest, the mother's darling room.

We flew to its arms when we rushed from school, with a thousand things to tell; Our mother was always waiting there, had the day gone ill or well.

No other pillow was quite so cool, under an aching head,

As soft to our fevered childish cheek, as the pillow on mother's bed.

Sitting so safely at her feet, when the dewy dusk drew nigh,

We watched for the angels to light the lamps in the solemn evening sky.
Tiny hands folded, there we knelt, to lisp the nightly prayer,

Learning to cast on the Loving One early our load of care.

Whatever the world has brought us since, still pure as a rose in bloom,
Is the thought we keep of the core of the home, the mother's darling room.
We've not forgotten the fragrant sheaves of the lilacs at the door,
Nor the ladder of sunbeams lying prone on the shining morning floor.
We've not forgotten the robin's tap at the ever friendly pane,
Nor the lilt of the little brook outside, trolling its gay refrain.
How it haunts us yet, in the tender hour of the sunset's fading blush
The vesper song, so silvery clear, of the hidden hermit thrush!

All sweetest of sound and scent is blent, when, pure as a rose in bloom,
We think of the spot loved best in life, the mother's darling room.

Holding us close to the best in life, keeping us back from sin,
Folding us yet to her faithful breast, oft as a prize we win,
The mother who left us here alone to battle with care and strife
Is the guardian angel who leads us on to the fruit of the tree of life.
Her smile from the heights we hope to gain is an ever-beckoning lure;
We catch her look when our pulses faint, nerving us to endure.
Others may dwell where once she dwelt, and the home be ours no more,
But the thought of her is a sacred spell, never its magic o'er.
We're truer and stronger and braver yet, that, pure as a rose in bloom,
Back of all struggle, a heart of peace, is the mother's darling room.

HOMES OF GREAT MEN

General Washington, our first President, was a model of domestic virtues; Mrs. Washington was the ideal wife for such a man-which is saying much. Their home was an excellent pattern for the homes of their times.

The home life of our late noble President, Mr. McKinley, is one of the jewels of American history. If the American people had to set comparative values upon this and his best approved act of statesmanship, they could not give up aught of that shining record which shows how he tended and reverenced the fragile woman bearing his name. They smiled with tender pride in him when after that last speech in Buffalo he forgot their own plaudits, and turned first to her. No, they would not lightly exchange for anything you could offer, the pure, beautiful, pathetic story of the home-life of their dead ruler. Humanity precedes politics, and the domestic virtues outrank statesmanship. When Garfield was dying what absorbed the people most? Not his political record, but the devotion of his wife. What an honest, homely satisfaction the people took in the happy companionship of General and Mrs. Grant! What a paternal pride in sweet Frances Cleveland, the girlish bride who made so gracious and discreet a mistress of the White House, so perfect a wife and mother! Interest in a Chief Executive's political career has never dwarfed public interest in his hearthstone. Much, too, is expected of leaders in thought and literature, for a high mark has been set for these.

"At Emerson's home, it is always like morning," a visiting friend wrote. Perhaps the most beautiful home-life ever pictured, in truth or fiction, was Hawthorne's. In the Old Manse, which his pen has immortalized; in London, in Italy, it was the same exquisite story of married lovers, happy children, peace, harmony, hospitality (with straitened means sometimes), and simple pleasures. After her husband's death, Mrs. Hawthorne said, " Pain passed away when my husband came. Poverty was lighter than a thistle-down, with such felicity to uphold it."

Longfellow's home in Cambridge, a place of pilgrimage, breathes yet of the serene, harmonious life of the great singer, his gentle mate, and their merry children. Whittier's home is no less a shrine upon which a pure and beautiful life left its consecration. He had no wife; his sister was its mistress; and their lovely friendship and good comradeship made their dwelling a magnet which drew continually to its cheer and shelter Lucy Larcom, Celia Thaxter, the Alcotts, and other gifted spirits.

Of Lowell and his beautiful wife, Edward Everett Hale has written, "The truth is their union was made in heaven, it was a perfect marriage; they belonged together and lived one life." Even Poe-poor Poe-is almost as well known for tenderness to his wife as for genius that wrote "The Raven." To her mother he made himself as dear as if he had been her own son. So, all through the shining story of our great ones, we find this golden record of pure lives and happy married love.--Myrta Lockett Avary.

CHRISTIAN TRAINING

I have no doubt some parents have got discouraged and disheartened that they have not seen their children brought to the Saviour as early as they expected. I do not know anything that has encouraged me more in laboring for children than my experience in the inquiry room. In working there I have. found that those who had religious training, whose parents strove early to lead them to Christ, have been the easiest to lead toward him. I always feel as if I had a lever to work with when I know that a man has been taught by a godly father and mother; even if his parents died when he was young, the impression that they died praying for him has always a great effect through life. I find that such men are always much easier reached, and though we may not live to see all our prayers answered, and all our children brought into the fold, yet we should teach them diligently, and do it in love. There is where a good many make a mistake, by not teaching their children in love-by doing it coldly or harshly. Many send them off to read the Bible by themselves for punishment. Why, I would put my hand in the fire before I would try to teach them in that way. If we teach our children as we ought to do, instead of Sunday being the dreariest, dullest, most tiresome day of the week to them, it will be the brightest, happiest day of the whole seven. What we want to do is to put religious truths before our children in such an attractive form that the Bible will be the most attractive of books to them. Children want the same kind of food and truth that we do, only we must cut it up a little finer, so that they can eat it. I have great respect for a father and mother who have brought up a large family, and trained them so that they have come out on the Lord's side. Sometimes mothers are discouraged, and do not think they have so large a sphere to do good in as we have; but a mother who has brought up a large family to Christ need not consider her life a failure. I know one who has brought up ten sons, all Christians; do you think her life has been a failure? Let us teach our children diligently, in season and out of season. They may be converted so early that they can't tell when they were converted. I do not believe, as some people seem to think, that they must wander off into sin first, so that they may be brought back to Christ. Those who have been brought up in that way from their earliest childhood, do not have to spend their whole life in forgetting some old habit. Let us be encouraged to bring our children to Christ.

-D. L. Moody.

BE YOUR CHILD'S CONFIDANT

Always allow your child to tell you all that has happened to interest or annoy while absent from home. Never think anything which affects the happiness of your children too small a matter to claim your attention. Use every means in your power to win and retain their confidence. Do not rest satisfied without some account of each day's joys or sorrows. It is a source of great