Domestic virtues the glory of a country. Views taken of Home. The Spiritual one. Scripture females distinguished at home. The Filial relation. Burns’ touching description. Daughters of Milton. The Father. The Mother. Mrs. Sigourney on the “living lost.” The good Sister Wordsworth. The Teacher. Other Inmates. Domestics. Home friendly to the Virtues. Health. Industry. Order. Frugality. Noble sentiment of Lady Jane Grey. Gratitude. Disinterestedness. Elizabeth of England. Charities. Quietness. Spirituality. Piety at home the zest of Joys. It gilds the darkest cloud.

Wherein consists the true glory of a people? Their prosperity does not lie simply in outward abundance. It depends far more on the solid virtues and the Christian graces of the young in their midst. And these qualities appertain not only to our sons, in whom it is often imagined the whole strength at least of nations is concentrated. Our daughters likewise are concerned in the advancement of this high object. One of the sacred writers implores for his countrymen this blessing; “that our daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a palace.” They must be “corner stones,” lying at the very foundation of the social edifice, and therefore an essential part of its support. And to their power must be added moral beauty. They are to be “polished after the similitude of” that most splendid of structures, “a palace.”

Observe also the relation through which the sex may afford this aid to their race. It is not petitioned by the writer referred to, that our women may become all eloquent orators; or be fitted to bear the sword, or sway the sceptre; nor yet that they may rival man in physical achievements; nor even is the prayer that they may be renowned for genius and intellect alone, or supremely. But to a far less conspicuous and imposing sphere are our thoughts directed by the Psalmist. It is to home, to “our daughters,” and through them to the domestic relations in general, that we are pointed for the elements of public prosperity. “Happy is that people,” among whom these are assiduously cherished. Happy are they, because a people “whose God is the Lord.”

What views are usually taken by the youthful female of her parental home? It has various aspects. To one it appears pre-eminently as the place in which she is to find the necessaries, comforts, and, perhaps, luxuries, of life. The heads of the family are appointed to toil for her. At her feet must brothers and sisters lay the daily tribute of service. She exacts from each inmate all the attention that can be rendered to one born to command. She is, in one word, a household divinity.

Another regards her home as a scene for display. The furniture, the style, the outline, and the filling up, must be all for the eye of the visitor. If she consent to give her own hand to the work, the main motive is for fireside decorations.

A third is alive to the natural ties which bind her to one and another; but it is chiefly as a matter of sentiment, that she contemplates even the nearest and most sacred relations. Has she been absent for a season, how fervent are her salutations, on returning to her native spot. Does sickness assail a parent or a brother, and life seem exposed, what tears, what wringing of the hands, what uncontrolled wailings are heard. But the test of true love is not here. It is the personal sacrifices we make for another, the toil, self-denial, watchfulness and patient service we bestow on him, that reveal the sincerity and depth of our affection.

Still another class are those young women who esteem the great purpose of their home to be the furnishing all possible facilities for their literary instruction. If they attend school constantly and improve their time there, then they have a claim on all their connections to wait their bidding, and execute their mandates, in every interval of study. The whole being is thus absorbed in the intellect.

There remains one more view of the fireside, and that is the moral, spiritual, religious one. This I believe to be the grand figure on the canvass of domestic life. Every other should be subservient to this. It should stand forth with a commanding interest, and address us in a tone of authority. Our home may be welcome for the conveniences and comforts it affords. We may take a just pride in its external aspect. Our hearts are allowed to fix some of their affections on its objects. It is right that the young should seek earnestly the means of intellectual culture at the hands of parental care. But these are all “lesser lights.” They can only borrow and reflect. There must be in the highest heaven a “greater light,” even the Sun of Righteousness, or life sinks beneath a darkness that may be felt.

The Scriptures assign this rank to the moral bearings of home. The patriarchs exhibited their fairest virtues in the private relations of life. Judaism was penetrated with a domestic spirit. The age of the wise man could furnish qualities, of which, in the book of Proverbs, we have an illustrious picture, in the character of a perfect matron and wife. Sarah, Rebecca, Ruth, Hannah, where was the scene of their glory? In home. Equally does the New Testament exalt the spiritual influence of the domestic relation. Who was the immortal Mary? The mother of Jesus. What gave Martha and the other Mary their renown in the gospel? They were sisters of Lazarus, and partly from their fidelity as such, were loved by their Master. She who cast the two mites into the treasury, among the rich the richest, was the more commended because a poor widow. Lydia, not only gave herself, by the baptismal seal, unto God, but honored the cause in her household. Thus does home blend its waters with the river of life. Fidelity to its trusts is an inseparable ingredient in the cup of salvation.

Therefore would I conjure the youthful female to value her domestic bonds as a means of moral culture, and never, under sunny skies, or beneath clouds that lower, to lose sight of this use of them. She should carry into the detail of her daily walk religious principle. Not the slightest act should she perform, which is at war with her spiritual culture. Love, duty, trust, these may enter into the very soul of her being. Let her place them before her, and pursue them steadily, and she shall become the “corner-stone” of her family, “polished” with a divine lustre.

But, to render a greater aid to her who desires and wills domestic excellence, let us now speak of the particular relations of home, and their natural, consequent claims on the young of her sex.

The filial relation is replete with moral incentives. To both parents a daughter is indebted beyond even the powers of requital usually granted her sex. From the hour of her birth up to the present moment she has been to them an object of unceasing thought, care, and solicitude. The little being, over whom, as she graced the cradle, they hung with the deepest joy, spoke to their hearts the more eloquently, by her very inability to tell of her wants, by her utter helplessness. No labor was spared, no sacrifice withheld, did they promise to advance her happiness. A few weeks pass, and she is radiant with smiles, the emanations of light and love; but they are smiles effaced often by tears, and for these, the parent cannot rest till they dry on the cheek. And soon her age exhibits character, dispositions, propensities. How anxiously is their earliest developement observed. What plans are devised, what efforts employed, what prayers nightly ascend, that she may prove an heir of grace and godliness.

“Theparent-pairtheirsecrethomagepay, AndprofferuptoHeaventhewarmrequest ThatHewhostillstheraven’sclam'rousnest, Anddecksthelilyfairinflow'rypride, Would,inthewayhiswisdomseesthebest, Forthem,andfortheirlittleonesprovide; Butchiefly,intheirheartswithgracedivinepreside.”

That father, with what meditations, and watchfulness, and alternate hopes and fears has his soul been visited, as he looked on this daughter. How has his daily toil been cheered by the anticipation that its fruits would afford means to meet her wants, to educate her well, and to furnish resources for supplying the outward and inward necessities of her responsible age.

Can she love, respect, and honor this benefactor? Can she avoid it rather, who does not ask? I know how much has been written, in romances, of the devotedness of daughters; and yet the warmest coloring of this sentiment seems never beyond parental desert. There are scenes in which this truth is strikingly illustrated. It was a severe task for the daughters of Milton to read to their blind parent, languages sealed to their own understanding; but was it not the discharge of a simple duty? We are struck with the Roman instance of filial piety, in which the life-blood was shed by tender woman to save a father. Yet when should one meet a voluntary death, if not for the redemption of a parent?

Let the daughter confide then in her father, and seek so to demean herself that his eye might dwell fondly on the very secrets of her heart. Let her refer to his opinions, consult his wishes, and conform to his tastes and habits. His reception as he returns at evening to his fireside, should not consist in ceaseless importunities, nor of aught which terminates in unreasonable regards for self. How much better were a studious concern for his wants, and the bestowal of some act of delicate attention.

His pecuniary circumstances should be thoughtfully considered. Perhaps he is destitute. Then do not press him with calls he is pained, but yet compelled, to deny you. It may be that his fortune has recently been marred. Consider this, and be willing to relinquish personal gratifications and adapt your feelings and desires to his present situation. Or he is thrown, perhaps, on the bed of sickness. Manifest now the reality of that affection you professed for him in his health. Delight to bathe his fevered brow, and to perform those unnumbered services, for which Providence has qualified your sex.

In his old age be still more devoted. Point out to his failing vision the path he would tread. Let him feel that you are striving to solace his declining years, and to requite that love which was shed upon you, the earliest moment of your consciousness. Can you do less for him, now that desire fails and the grasshopper has become a burden and he must soon go to his long home? Of you may it be said,

“Amidthegiddyroundofprosperousyears, Thebirthofnewaffections,andthejoys Thatclusterroundearth’sfavorites,therewalked Stillatherside,theimageofherSire.”

But, if all this be due to a father, how shall we describe the claims of a mother? To this parent the daughter owes her very being. These are the arms which never tired of supporting her in infancy. For her the step was light, the voice hushed, the breath almost suppressed. To minister to her wants the social visit was forborne, and home made the one thought, until the cheek grew pale, and the eye dim for sleeplessness. The sickness of her daughter poured new waters into a cup, that seemed already filled with cares. To clothe and adorn her, every personal comfort was cheerfully foregone. That she might enjoy the best mental and moral culture, this mother discharged daily those services, which the domestic walk daily demands.

In sorrow there is no bosom that consoles like a mother’s. Into her ear the child pours its every trial. When the world censures, she will soothe. Let injury, degradation, distress come upon us, let us dread the eye of others, or, through guilt, shrink timidly from them, we flee to her for refuge. This affection is bestowed on the daughter with a fulness and a permanence, which she cannot comprehend, and remain still insensible.

In view of her relation, the true daughter will always sympathize with, and aid, this her greatest earthly benefactor. It will be her study, not to throw every burden on her spirit, because she is willing to bear them. No, her point of view will be the opposite of this. “How much,” she will ask, “can I do for my mother? Is there nothing in which I can relieve her from her toils? The utmost I can render her is but a meagre compensation for her countless sacrifices for my sake.”

The daughter may not only think of those domestic duties which require manual efforts, but in the general education of her brothers or sisters, she may prove a powerful ally with their natural teacher. Having composed the infant to rest, let its childhood continue to be her care. She can aid it to lisp the first accents of its native tongue. In the rudiments of knowledge she may be an efficient instructor. For this work her age peculiarly qualifies her. As the breath of spring quickens the tender bud, so let her youthful spirit infuse vigor into these minds yet younger than her own.

For the sake of a mother’s heart and hopes she should strive for a spotless character. What joy and pride will her obedience to Jesus impart. Let her know, that the virtue of her daughter is dear to a parent as life itself. What a weight is thrown on that bosom, if she fail of goodness. Death is grievous:

“Butye,whoforthelivinglost Thatagonyinsecretbear, Whoshallwithsoothingwordsaddress Thestrengthofyourdespair?”

Weigh well the influence you exert on this parent. God has ordained that the child should re-act on the parent in his riper years, that the daughter should become in her turn the counsellor and the confidant of her mother. Let her wield this power with wisdom and in purity of conscience. Never take advantage of your influence, to secure a sanction of the wrong. But lead your mother, and aspire yourself, toward perfect integrity, and the sinlessness of heaven. Let the portraiture of a holy life be drawn on the canvass before you; then will you enjoy the sweet anticipation, as your tears bedew her grave,

“Mymother—wherethouartgone Adieusandfarewellsareasoundunknown. MayIbutmeettheeonthatpeacefulshore, Thepartingwordshallpassmylipsnomore.”

If the claims of a parent be such as I have described, then no defect of character, still less any outward deficiency, can justify the daughter in a disregard of father or mother. Wealth does not increase the filial obligations, neither does poverty diminish them. Honors, dress, fashion did not lay the foundation of your duty to love and respect your parents. Let them then live in obscurity, or be constrained to wear plain apparel, or have unfashionable furniture, or lack graceful manners, none the less are you solemnly bound to honor and comfort them.

There is one circumstance, especially, which leads some young ladies cruelly to neglect their parents, and yet with no reason whatever. The daughter has received a better education than they; she has spent a few months, perhaps, at a boarding school, and learnt music and French. But what are these, and all her accomplishments worth, if they have but taught her to despise or neglect her truest benefactors? Can she cast off, in their old age, those who toiled and bore unnumbered burdens, to procure for her these literary privileges? If she do this, then, woe to her; and woe to the unfortunate being, to whom she may be joined as a partner. For no sin does the curse of Heaven more surely descend on one, let it be delayed as it may, than for unkindness to parents.

Nor does their guilt dissolve the bonds of filial duty. Every offender deserves more our pity than our cruelty or wrath. Who then should be commiserated and watched over, whose evil should we seek to overcome with good, and whose heart to melt by love, if not an offending parent’s?

Another relation, happily suited to promote female virtue, is that of Brother and Sister. Here are those united, not only by nature, but by all those sacred and dear ties which belong to the associations of childhood. Theirs is not the conjunction for an evening of planets, whose orbits lie all apart; but it is a union that dates from the earliest moments of life. And it is one as pure as it is primitive, giving scope for unalterable attachment, and deep joys, for kind offices and sincere virtue.

But let it not be imagined that all these fruits spring from the soil spontaneously. Not of necessity is a sister happy in this relation; and the reason is apparent. She is not coerced into sympathy, and self-sacrifice, and devotedness to her brothers, and without these qualities no outward connection brings peace and pleasure to the heart. It must be her study to devise means, frame plans,—and to execute them faithfully,—of promoting their good. Far will it be from accomplishing this most desirable end, to make protestations of her love, when prompted by impulse. Her actions must be the still, small voice that conveys the rich tones of her heart. If she refuse to enter into the schemes and prospects of a brother, and to render him those minute services, which both indicate affection and prompt to it, she will regard this relation as a dull thing. It may be but a source of alienated feelings, of vexation and strife.

Especially must the sister guard well the avenues to moral danger, which beset her brothers. Let her strive to make home attractive in their sight. Is she competent in music, she has here a means of ever-new interest, and of affording that variety of recreation for which the young man thirsts. By pleasant conversation, and by reading occasionally a volume to a brother, she may bind him to the fireside. Does he desire to pass the evening abroad? Better join him, even at some cost of personal ease, or of taste, than leave him exposed to seek places of equivocal character. Be his confidant, his adviser, constant in demonstrations of kindness. Perhaps he is aiding your progress in the walks of intellect. How can you so well requite his care, as by a steady emanation of moral and spiritual light? A sister’s love is often an amulet to the subsequent character of a circle of brothers. She whispers to them, when on the brink of temptation. Her form is ever present. Their thoughts wander often to their childhood’s home, and in secret self-communion the sentiment re-visits the heart,

“ForI,methinks,tillIgrowold Asfairbeforemeshallbehold, AsIdonow,thecottagesmall, Thelake,thewood,thewaterfall; Andthee,theSpiritofthemall.”

The services of a sister are peculiarly to be appreciated by the other sisters. If they comprehend most fully the joys of one another, so do they those sorrows, with which no “stranger intermeddleth.” They, who have shared one mind and one heart, from their early days, can comprehend those sufferings which not even the parent, from her elder age, entirely participates. In sickness they may be true angels of mercy to each other. And in those trials, to which their condition through life subjects them, no sympathy is dearer than a sister’s.

How unnatural is a deficiency in these holy dispositions. Can it be that the one is ever an object of envy, or jealousy, or ever regarded with distrust, coldness, or still more with hostility, by the other? Let them beware of the first approach of a contentious spirit. Their manners,—as indeed those of all in a family circle,—should never be rude, or careless, but ordered with watchfulness, delicacy, and propriety. The manner between sisters may be such as of itself to enshrine and secure their mutual kindness. It may too, by negligence, become a provoker of dissension and enmity. The fairest of maidens, is not she whose cheek mantles in beauty; but she whose gentle, Christian, courteous, carriage with brother and sister, radiates a perpetual moral beauty.

The eldest of a band of sisters is by nature appointed to teach, intellectually and spiritually, those of her circle younger than herself. How can she so well fulfil all righteousness in the domestic sphere, as by cheerfully sharing with her mother this office? Her age and experience qualify her to instruct the mind and train the affections, and tempt forth the virtues, of pliant childhood. Neither sister nor brother can estimate, in this life, all they owe to such a teacher. Eternity will reveal the extent, and complete the reward, of these sacred services.

The young woman may be useful, still farther, to all the Inmates of her father’s dwelling. Not one of the number can witness her daily deportment, without receiving from it some impression of her character. And now what shall this be? Do all testify that she lives unto others, that the noble spirit of the gospel is inhaled, as the life-breath of her moral being? She has constant opportunities to deny herself for the sake of some member of the household. Does she seek, or does she shun, such opportunities?

It is not the parent alone, who has demands on her kind consideration. Nor yet is this duty restricted by the fraternal bond. Her remote relations should be sedulously regarded. Let me add that, if her situation be a favored one, her poorer relations should be objects of thought and attention. How ungrateful for her own blessings were she,—and how forgetful, that soon she also may experience the buffetings of fortune,—did she treat such a relation with negligence, or with a haughty, condescending, patronizing, which is often a heart-lacerating, attention.

Why should a visitor be despised because her age, or manners, or dress are not perfectly agreeable? Woman has been celebrated by travellers for her universal hospitality. Let it not be strangers alone, and these the learned and prosperous, who enjoy her smiles. All, who come beneath a father’s roof, should be made to feel that the daughters are Christian ladies.

Nor should Domestics fail of receiving a respectful and generous treatment from the young females of the family. They are endowed with the same nature, body and mind, as ourselves. Why then demand of them tasks, which only the mere animal can sustain? We should strive to assist ourselves, for their sake, no less than our own. Spare them in their sickness. Speak to them always in a tone of gentleness. If an overbearing manner in the head of a family be hard to meet, how must it strike a domestic, when coming from the younger members? Above all, provide something for the mental, moral, and religious, good of the domestic. Can you not lend her a volume, or read aloud to her yourself? Can you not, occasionally at least, facilitate her attendance at church? Remember you must meet this being at the common judgment-seat of Christ; and let this thought pervade your whole manner toward her.

Having contemplated a part of the duties growing out of special domestic relations, let us now advert to a few of the prominent moral virtues, for whose culture home is peculiarly congenial.

I begin with what some may regard as hardly to be dignified with the name of duty. But if Health be essential to happiness, and the basis,—as it doubtless is,—of several Christian qualities, who shall deny the sacred title of duty, to the care of the physical system? Whence proceed that morbid sensitiveness, that sickly sentimentalism, and that puny selfishness, which sometimes mark the delicate woman? They spring from ill health; and while no means are employed to remove the root of these moral evils, in vain will the branches of each month or each day of her life be pruned diligently away. If there be no muscular energy the nerves become irritable, and the temper a source of perpetual disquiet, not only to one’s self, but to every associate in the household.

It is therefore a duty of the young woman, for health’s sake, not to allow a kind mother to become her waiting maid, but to exert herself in the performance of domestic, manual services. If she permit the needle to engross those hours, a part of which should be sacredly devoted to physical exercise, then let her know that God is thereby dishonored; for laws, which he thought worthy to establish, are, by her negligence, daily and directly violated.

Home is a moral school for the acquisition of habits of Industry. It is a singular fact that, while every young man is trained to a regular occupation,—even the sons of the wealthiest are so,—and to have no business or calling is, with this sex, deemed a reproach, young ladies are, in some circles, not only excused in indolence, but regarded as disgraced, if they are industrious and useful. Is this a pure state of society? Are not all who thus judge, and all who thus live, sadly deluded?

God has wedded industry and happiness, and ordained that they shall never be divorced. Idleness corrodes the mental faculties, and thus causes depression and gloom. It is the disturber of conscience; for nothing makes us so miserable, as the thought that we are wasting our lives, and are drones in society. Blessed are the poor; for they know the sweets of toil. Pitiable are the rich, if their treasures generate a selfish indolence.

Equally true is it that diligence is indissolubly bound to virtue. The mind, when unoccupied by profitable topics, roams on forbidden ground. Folded arms are accompanied by a distempered imagination. The tongue of the idle often setteth a world on fire; for scandal and gossip vegetate to rankness in the garden of sloth. The degradation, therefore, is not on the side of work. Be not ashamed to labor; for it is Heaven’s decree that all should labor. Conceal not your industry. It is honorable, and honored by all good minds. In a republic especially, where the follies of caste should never enter, let woman, if she must glory, glory in being scrupulously devoted to some useful occupation. So living, she will find grace and goodness attend on her steps.

Where is the habit of order better acquired, than amid the routine of a well arranged household? In what school can a girl so well learn lessons of energy and firmness, as in that where she relieves a mother more and more, as her ability increases, of the charge of her family? Neatness is of primary importance. The care of a brother’s linen, or even so humble a teacher as the duster, may inculcate this virtue. Let her, who prizes cheerfulness aright, know that never does she sing lullaby to an infant sister, or act as a peace-maker between two contentious brothers, without making music in her own heart.

At the period of my writing no quality is more loudly commended than frugality. It should always be encouraged, for its Christian influences. She, who is prodigal of her father’s possessions, is seldom mindful of the calls of charity, or marked by propriety of dress, and the subordination of the appetites. I have elsewhere spoken of habits of industry as a preparation for reverses of fortune; but were a young lady perfectly assured of pecuniary independence through life, for the sake of her own character, she should be diligent and frugal. Let her expend freely for her mental culture, and devote large sums rather to the relief of the needy, than to selfish indulgences. She who belongs to the mass in this country, removed alike from the extremes of wealth and poverty, can never with impunity allow herself in habits of extravagance. This thought should be kept daily in mind, as she pursues the round of domestic duty. The wardrobe and the table constantly suggest it.

The duties of the fireside are friendly to Contentment. Why are females so often restless and disquieted at their own abode? Why does ennui prey on their spirits, save when some visit or visitor is in prospect? How should it be, that daughters, blest as those of America now are, should pant for the excitements of a round of public pleasures? Providence designed our institutions for the promotion of woman’s content and peace, no less than for that of man. Her hearth-stone was intended to be dear to her soul. She, who takes right views of herself and her duties, will ever find it so.

Here is an individual, who is disturbed by ambition. Her own little family circle is too narrow a sphere for her. But she mistakes the springs of content. Let her know that the wreath she wears should rest on her heart. The reply of the illustrious Lady Jane Grey, to those who informed her that her father had left her the crown of England, is worthy of her sex. “I am not so young, nor so little read in the smiles of fortune, to suffer myself to be taken by them. My liberty is better than the chain you proffer me, with what precious stones soever it may be adorned, or of what gold soever framed;—if you love me sincerely and in good earnest, you will rather wish me a secure and quiet fortune, though mean, than an exalted condition, exposed to the wind and followed by some dismal fall.” Her melancholy fate, which occurred within ten days from the utterance of this language, gave a new and sad proof of her rare sagaciousness.

She who is faithful in the domestic walk, enjoys singular opportunities for the exercise of Gratitude. Not only may she, by her assiduous attentions, partially requite a mother’s services, but she can thus express her grateful sense of the superior elevation now allotted her sex. At the table and the fireside she may cause man to bear witness to, and rejoice in, the use she is making of her increased privileges. Here may she describe, in Christian colors, the much sought “line of beauty.”

Our country has done for her what Greece and Rome proudly denied her sex. It has conferred on her the blessings of education, equality of companionship with man, new means of benevolence, and the pledge of new spheres of action, so far as nature qualifies her, and the paramount claims of undeniable duty shall permit. What returns shall she make? Her country asks but one. Fresh zeal in self-tuition and in training those subject to her charge, for domestic fidelity, for true citizenship, and for immortal virtue and blessedness.

Another moral aspect of home, to be regarded by woman, is that it affords room for the practice of habitual Disinterestedness. A selfish man is an object of painful contemplation. How much more is this defect to be deplored in woman. She, whose nature, so ardent and susceptible, prompts to an almost instinctive kindness, cannot fail in this quality, without shedding a blight on her entire character.

But designate a female insulated by circumstances from the usual family connections, uninterested in domestic duties, and how often do you see one destitute of sympathy and an expansive benevolence. Elizabeth of England had no love of home; and what do we hear of her? That she had a lion-like port; but woman-like, Christian-like, humane, she certainly was not. She passed through life, it is said, without a single friend.

She who performs the domestic duties aright, will find time for, as she must have calls and incentives to, Charitable services. The Sunday school is a sphere in which her fireside virtues prepare her to instruct. Teaching in general accords beautifully with the inspirations of home. Every female should be an intellectual and moral guardian to some portion of the young around her. In bestowing of her substance, and especially of her personal attentions, on the sick and the poor, she will find all she has done of good at home an invaluable prompter and aid. For the sake, therefore, of others, as a social and responsible being, let the flame she would support on the public altar be kindled from the vestal fire of the domestic one.

Again, what purity would it infuse into her Friendships, did the young maiden love first and serve best her own kindred. Let her deep affections be developed by fireside fidelity, and how may she expend, of these heart-gathered riches, on the friends she is making of her own sex. What a pledge has she given too of constancy in every new relation she may form.

Piety at home is friendly to that Quietness which is the “work of righteousness, and its effect” also. She is the true gentlewoman, who nurtures most faithfully in herself the calm virtues of the domestic walk. Heaven is a tranquil abode; let the soul be attuned for its harmonies by the quiet measures of fireside melody.

I close by saying, that in the family we may best cultivate a Christian Spirituality. There may self-communion be enjoyed. There too can we indulge in the perusal of those writings, which invigorate our faith, and give a firmer tone to our religious sentiments and our moral principles and habits. Be frugal of your moments, and each day you will redeem the hour for this duty, which God and the future demand. Commune habitually with that Being, whose countenance beams brightly on our dwellings. It is morning; trust not yourself to the trials and temptations before you, without commending yourself to your Immortal Guardian. It is evening; enter the sanctuary of the Holiest,

“Andtakethethoughtofthiscalmvespertime, Withitslowmurmuringsoundsandsilverylight, Onthroughthedarkdaysfadingfromtheirprime, Asasweetdewtokeepyoursoulfromblight.”

To all your literary acquisitions, and to every accomplishment, as a relative and a friend, add piety at home. That shall be an ornament of grace to thy neck. If God prosper your domestic ties, piety will give fresh zest to every homefelt joy. And should He call you to those trials, disappointments, and sorrows, of which, when they come on a household, woman must drink the dregs of the cup, how will you sustain them, without the love of God in your heart? Make Him your early trust, and He will gild the darkest cloud, with a ray of that mercy, which falls never so welcome as on the stricken heart.

“Earthmayforsake—oh!happytohavegiven, Theunbrokenheart’sfirstfraganceuntoHeaven.”

---