A MANSION OF PEACE AND CONCORD, LOVE AND JOY.

"Contented toil, and hospitable care,

And kind connubial tenderness are there;
And piety with wishes placed above,
And steady loyalty, and faithful love.

Goldsmith.

A course of rectitude and well-doing is seldom produced and promoted by dry philosophic precepts; affection must be inspired by something which engages the heart, and pure affection grows and thrives best in the quiet soil of domestic privacy. Those who are called to take a prominent part in public affairs, to traffic at the exchange, to plead at the bar, or legislate in the senate, have still important duties to discharge at home. Here the force of moral and religious obligations ought to be mutually felt by husband and wife, parents and children, master and servants; nor can we reasonably expect, where these obligations are slighted, that a consistent conduct will be maintained in commercial and professional pursuits.

The pleasures of the world are of a promiscuous and turbulent kind; but a man finds in his garden, and at his own fireside, enjoyments more simple and satisfying. He is exhilarated by the smiles of love, and the sports of juvenile gaiety. After the toils of business and the vexations of care, in the bosom of a beloved and affectionate family he seeks and finds a sweet refreshing repose. There are many, it is true, who speak with contempt of these calm domestic pleasures. They are roused into life and action abroad, but grow dull and weary at home; they have some zest at the feast which luxury prepares for the crowd, but at their own table every thing is insipid. Nor is it very uncommon for persons of both sexes to insinuate, that mediocrity only can be content with such occupations and delights as the narrow circle of domestic life supplies; while genius and spirit will always aspire to something greater. Are, then, intel'ect and energy, virtue and constancy, closely and exclusively allied to dissipation. What are we to seek for the elements of the sublime in character, only at the club and tavern? Before we come to such a conclusion, it will be necessary to obliterate the lessons which wise and good men have taught, as well as all the facts of history.

"All the members of a family," says Dr. Dwight, "are connected by the strong bonds of natural affect on-bonds which unite human

beings together with a power and intimacy found in no other circumstances of life. The members of a family all dwell in the same house; are daily united in one common system of employments; interchange unceasingly and habitually their kind offices; and are accustomed to rejoice and mourn, to hope and fear, to weep and smile, together. No eloquence, no labour, no time, is necessary to awaken these sympathetic emot ons. They

are caught at once from eye to eye, and from heart to heart; and spread instantaneously with an electric influence through all the endeared and happy circle." The celebrated Sir Thomas More apologizes for not having sooner published his "Utopia," by alleging that he felt obliged to devote a great part of the time he could spare from his public avocations to free and affectionate intercourse with his wife and children, which, though some might think trifling amusements, he placed among our necessary duties. To this example from history we shall add the testimony of a writer of great worth. "Let me here," says Mrs. More, "be allowed the gratification of observing, that those women of real genius and extensive knowledge, whose friendship has conferred honour and happiness upon me, have been in general eminent for economy and the practice of domestic virtues; and greatly superior to the affectation of despising the duties and the knowledge of common life."

When the charming delights of the domestic circle have lost their relish, there must be something radically wrong. It is not genius, or literature, or virtue, which has disenchanted the lovely scene; but avarice, unhallowed ambition, or profligacy. I was much pleased with an anecdote of Racine, the famous French poet, the substance of which shall be given to the reader. Having one day just returned from Versailles, where he had been on a visit, he was waited upon by a gentleman with an invitation to dine at the Hôtel de Condé. "I cannot possibly have the honour to go there," said the poet; "it is a week since I have been with my wife and children; they are overjoyed to see me again, and have provided a fine carp, so that I must dine with those dear relatives." 66 But, my good Sir," replied the gentleman, "several of the most distinguished characters expect your company, and will be very glad to see you." Racine showed him the carp, saying "Here, Sir, is our little meal; then say, having provided

such a treat for me, what apology could I make for not dining with my children? Neither they, nor my wife, could have any pleasure in eating a bit of it without me; then pray be so obliging as to mention my excuse to the Prince of Condé, and my other illustrious friends." The gentleman did so; and not only his Serene Highness but all the Company present professed themselves more charmed with this proof of the poet's faithful tenderness as a husband and father, than they possibly could have been with his delightful conversation.

It must be confessed, that harmony, peace, and pleasure are not found in many families where they might naturally be expected. Various causes will account for this. Education is conducted in so preposterous a mode, that it should almost seem domestic happiness formed no part of the ultimate design. The marriage union, too, is the result of subtle intrigue, or sordid interest, rather than a virtuous attachment originating in mutual sympathy and congeniality. Sometimes the love of pomp and parade destroys the charm of domestic felicity. Addison, with his usual skill and taste, has expatiated on this topic, and presented a fine contrast in the characters of Aurelia and Fulvia.'

We meet with persons who display much vivacity and politeness in mixed company abroad, but at home they are sullen, unsociable, irritable, and captious. Their goodhumour and their good manners are reserved, like their best apparel, for holiday visits, and are put away the moment they enter their own residence, as if too costly and precious for every-day use.

To secure fireside comforts and home-born happiness, something more is necessary than a neat snug mansion, surrounded with gardens and lawns, where flowers, and shrubs, and shady walks are all kept in the nicest order. Family bickerings and strifes would turn an Ed n itself into a desert. It is of little ava 1 to furnish the house, and cultivate the ground, in the best style, if the minds of the inhabitants are vacant and uncultivated. Nor will a few bright insulated maxims, and soft soothing sentiments, from the pages of fiction and poetry, answer the desired end. The play and movement of kindly feeling must be kept up by an unremitting interchange of those little winning attentions which are

I Spectator,

required to sweeten all human society. Yet tenderness, though full and overflowing, will not suffice, unless accompanied by a dignity and decorum which commands esteem and respect Those who would enjoy domestic delights ought to be reminded, that they will be more likely to gain their point by studying to pass their time usefully, than by making it over, in regularly distributed portions, to ease and pleasure. Many persons wonder that the enchantments which bards have surg should be wanting in the retreat to which they have long fondly looked. But man cannot be happy in any situation without an expansion of mind, a brisk flow of ideas and spirits, and a lively sense of the worth and importance of those talents which are given by the great Creator to be occupied and improved. It is evident, that where present case and gratification are exclus.vely sought, the domestic circle must be first invaded by weariness and apathy, and afterward by chagrin and disgust; but the pursuit and communication of knowledge, the culture of friendship, the exercise of charity and faith; in a word, the assiduous and vigorous discharge of personal and relative duties, and the proper use of every advantage which Providence hath bestowed, fail not to give a wholesome currency and purity to the thoughts, and a sprightly cheerfulness to the feelings of the heart.

The house which is dedicated as a temple to God becomes the mansion of peace and concord, love and joy. Religion sheds a hallowed influence over the most endearing relations of life, corrects acerbity of temper, purifies the springs of sympathy, and enliver s the present by the glowing prospects of futurity. Nor is the man a blank in t world whose lot is comparatively obscure, provided virtue and piety prompt his actions, and pervade his comforts and his cares. “He,” says an able writ_r, “who praises God only on a ten-stringed instrument, whose authority extends no farther than his own family, nor his example beyond his own neighbourhood, may have as thankful a heart here, and as high a place in the celestial choir hereafter, as the greatest monarch, who praises God upon an instrument of ten thousand strings, and upon the loud-sounding organ having as many millions of pipes as there are subjects in his empire."

Rev. John Thornton

SIMPLE ACTS OF AFFECTION AT HOME.

It is this desire of the happiness of those whom we love, which gives to the emotion of love itself its principal delight, by affording to us constant means of gratification. He who truly wishes the happiness of anyone, cannot be long without discovering some mode of contributing to it. Reason itself, with all its light, is not so rapid in discoveries of this sort as simple affection, which sees means of happiness, and of important happiness, where reason scarcely could think that any happiness was to be found, and has already by many kind offices produced the happiness of hours before reason could have suspected that means so slight could have given even a moment's pleasure. Dr. Thos. Brown.

THE POOR HOME MAY STILL BE HAPPY.

Cling to thy home! If there the meanest shed

Yield thee a hearth and shelter for thy head, And some poor plot with vegetables stored Be all that heaven allots thee for thy board; Unsavoury bread, and herbs that scatter'd grow

Wild on the river-brink or mountain brow;— Yet e'en this cheerless mansion shall provide More heart's repose than all the world beside. Bland.

A HUSBAND'S DUTY AT HOME. Seeing that almost the whole of the day is devoted to business abroad, and the remainder of my time to domestic duties, there is none left for myself that is, for my studies. For on returning home, I have to talk with my wife, prattle with my children, and converse with my servants. All which things I number among the duties of life since, if a man would not be a stranger in his own house, he must, by every means in his power, strive to render himself agreeable to those companions of his life whom Nature hath provided, chance thrown in his way, or that he has himself chosen. Sir Thos. More. CONSECRATION OF OUR

PURSUITS.

:

CUSTOMARY

A fund of genuine cheerfulness should be created in the mind by the heartfelt consecration of ordinary acts and circumstances to God's will and service; the habitual reference of all our customary pursuits to His good pleasure is sufficient to adorn and dignify all homes. Sheppard.

THE SETTLED BLISS OF HOME.

The romance of life gone! when with the humblest and most sordid cares of life are intimately associated the calm delights, the settled bliss of home; when upon duties, in themselves perhaps often wearisome and uninteresting, hang the prosperity and the happiness of wife and children; when there is ro mean hope, because there is no hope in which regard for others does not largely mingle; no base fear, because suffering and distress cannot affect self alone; when the suffering which turns honest industry to greed, and noble ambition to egotistical lust of power, is exorcised; when life becomes a perpetual exercise of duties which are delights, and delights which are duties. Once romance meant chivalry; and the hero of romance was one who did his knightly devoirs, and was true and loyal to God and his lady love. If with us it has come to mean the sensual fancies of nerveless boys, and the sickly reveries of girls for whose higher faculties society can find no employment, it is only another instance in which the present is not so much wiser and grander than the past as its flatterers are fond of imagining. To us it appears, that where the capacity for generous devotion, for manly courage, for steadfast faith and love, exists, there exists the main element of romance; and that where the circumstances of life are most favourab'e for the development of the qualities in action, they are romantic circumstances, whether the person displaying them be, like Alton Locke, a tailor, or, like King Arthur, a man of stalwart arm and lordly presence. Nor do we see that the giants, dragons, and other monsters of the old romance, are in themselves one whit more interesting than the obstacles that beset the modern true knight in his struggles to perform manfully the dutics of his life, and to carry out the noble spirit of that vow which he has solemnly taken at the altar to love, comfort, honour, and keep, in sickness and in heal h, the woman who has put her youth, her beauty, her life and happiness, into his hands.

George Brinsley.

When Lara's lip breathed forth the words of
home,
Those accents, as his native mountains dear,
Awoke their absent echoes in his ear.
Byron.

THE HOMELY HOUSE THAT HARBOURS QUIET REST.

Sweet are the thoughts that savour of con

tent

The quiet mind is richer than a crown ; Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent

The poor estate scorns Fortune's angry frown.

Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such bliss,

Beggars enjoy when princes oft do miss:

The homely house that harbours quiet rest,

The cottage that affords no pride nor care, The mean that 'grees with country music best,

The sweet consort of mirth's and music's fare.

Obscured life sits down a type of bliss ;
A mind content both crown and kingdom is.
Greene.

GOOD-HUMOUR AT HOME.

Persons who are always innocently cheerful and good-humoured are very useful in the world; they maintain peace and happiness, and spread a thankful temper amongst all who live around them. Miss Talbot.

A GRACEFUL HOME.

How easy it is to be neat!-to be clean! How easy to arrange the rooms with the most graceful propriety! How easy it is to invest our houses with the truest elegance! Elegance resides not with the upholsterer or the draper; it is not put up with the hangings and curtains; it is not in the mosaics, the carpetings, the rosewood, the mahogany, the candelabra, the marble ornaments: it exists in the spirit presiding over the chambers of the dwelling. Contentment must always be most graceful: it sheds serenity over the scene of its abode; it transforms a waste into a garden. The home lighted by these intimations of a nobler and brighter life may be wanting in much which the discontented may desire; but to its inhabitants it will be a palace, far outvying the Oriental in brilliancy and glory. E. Burritt.

HOME MEMORIES NEVER DIE. The heart has affections that never die. The rough rubs of the world never obliterate them. They are the memories of home, only home. There is the old tree under which the light-hearted boy has swung for many a day; yonder is the river in which he learned to swim; there is the house in which he knew a parent's protection-nay, there is the room in which he romped with a brother and sister, long since laid where he too must soon be gathered, over-shadowed by yon old church, whither with a joyous troop like himself he has followed his parents to worship, and heard the good old man who ministered at the altar. Even the very school-house, associated in youthful days with the thoughts of tasks, now comes to bring pleasant remembrances of many occasions that called forth some generous exhibition of noble traits of human nature. There is where he learned to feel the first emotions. There, perchance, he first met the being who, by her love and tenderness in life, has made a home for himself happier than that which his childhood had known. There are certain feelings of humanity-and those, too, among the best-that can find no appropriate place for their exercise only at one's fireside.

Norman McLeod.

SENSIBILITY TO THE BEAUTIFUL SHOULD BE CHERISHED.

Of

Now no man receives the true culture of a man in whom the sensibility to the beautiful is not cherished; and I know of no condition in life from which it should be excluded. all luxuries, this is cheapest and the most at hand; and it seems to me to be the most important to those conditions where coarse labour tends to give a grossness to the mind. From the diffusion of the sense of beauty in ancient Greece, and of the taste for music in modern Germany, we learn that the people at large ma, partake of refined gratifications which have hitherto been thought to be necessarily restricted to a few. Channing.

THE ABODE OF NEATNESS AND ORDER.

Nature is industrious in adorning her dominions, and the man to whom this duty is addressed should feel and obey the lesson. Let him, too, be industrious in adorning his dominion-in making his home, the dwelling of his wife and children, not only convenient and comfortable, but pleasant. Let him, as far as circumstances will permit, be industrious in surrounding it with pleasing objects— in decorating it, within and without, with things that tend to make it agreeable and attractive. Let industry make it the abode of neatness and good order-a place which brings satisfaction in every inmate, and which in absence draws back the heart by the fond associations of comfort and content. Let this be done, and this sacred spot will surely become the scene of cheerfulness, kindness, and peace. Ye parents, who would have your children happy, be industrious to bring them up in the midst of a pleasant, a cheerful, and a happy home. Waste not your time in accumulating wealth for them, but fill their minds and souls, in the way proposed, with the seeds of virtue and true prosperity.

E. Burritt.

ALL THAT MY GOD CAN GIVE ME OR REMOVE.

And has the earth lost its so spacious round, And sky its blue circumference above, That in this little chamber there are found

Both earth and heaven, my universe of love, All that my God can give me or remove

Here sleeping, save myself, in mimic death? Sweet, that in this small compass I behove

To live their living and to breathe their breath!

Almost I wish that with one common sigh We might resign all mundane care and strife,

And seek together that transcendent sky, Where father, mother, children, husband, wife,

Together pant in everlasting life.

Hood.

With her fond, enliv'ning smile
The heavy hour of care beguile.
Coombe.

AT HOME MORE THAN ANYWHERE THE TEMPER SHOULD BE GOVERNED.

No wife or good man ought to account any rules of behaviour as below his regard which tend to cement the great brotherhood of mankind in comfortable union; particularly, in the course of that familiar intercourse which belongs to domestic life all the virtues of temper find an ample range. It is very unfortunate, that within that circle men too often think themselves at liberty to give unrestrained vent to the caprice of passion and humour. Whereas there, on the contrary, more than anywhere, it concerns them to attend to the government of their heart; to check what is violent in their tempers, and to soften what is harsh in their manners. For there the temper is formed: there the real character displays itself. The forms of the world disguise men when abroad; but within his own family, every man is known to be what he truly is. In all our intercourse, then, with others, particularly in that which is closest and most intimate, let us cultivate a peaceable, a candid, a gentle, and friendly temper. This is the temper to which, by repeated injunctions, our holy religion seeks to form us. This was the temper of Christ. This is the temper of Heaven. Dr. Blair.

PARADISE.

To Adam, Paradise was home to the good among his descendants, home is Paradise. Julius Hare.

HOME OF OUR CHILDHOOD. Home of our childhood! how affection clings And hovers round thee with her seraph wings! Dearer thy hills, though clad in autumn brown, Than fairest summits which the cedars crown! Sweeter the fragrance of thy summer breeze Than all Arabia breathes along the seas! The stranger's gale wafts home the exile's sigh, For the heart's temple is its own blue sky! O happiest they, whose early love unchanged, Hopes undissolved, and friendship unestranged,

Tired of their wanderings, still can deign to