Part 5

The gleeful laugh of happy children is the best home music, and the graceful figures of childhood are the best statuary. They are well-springs of pleasure, messengers of peace and love, resting-places for innocence, links between angels and men. Their eyes, those clear wells of undefiled thought,—what is more beautiful? Full of hope, love, and curiosity, they meet your own. In prayer, how earnest; in joy, how sparkling; in sympathy, how tender! The man or woman who never tried the companionship of a little child has carelessly passed by one of the greatest pleasures of life, as one passes a rare flower without plucking or knowing its value. A home, and no children,—it is like a lantern, and no candle; a garden, and no flowers; a vine, and no grapes; a brook, and no water gurgling and gushing in its channels.

Nature affords striking proofs of foresight and wisdom in making the bonds of parental sympathy so invincibly strong and lasting. During childhood and youth, and even afterwards, when these charming epochs of life have passed away, the ties of constancy and attachment continue to prevail. Were not the chords of love thus strengthened, they would frequently be snapped asunder; for the severest trials which the world knows are those which assail the parental heart and pierce it with the deepest sorrows.

How fleeting are the happiness and innocent guilelessness of childhood! The years as they come bring with them intelligence and experience; but they take with them, in their resistless course, the innocent pleasures of childhood's years. Then deal gently, patiently, and kindly with them. You may be nearly over the rough pathway of life yourselves; make the only time of life that they can call happy as pleasant as possible. "Our children," says Madame de Stael, "who are tenderly reared by us, are soon destined for others than ourselves. They soon stride rapidly forward in the career of life, while we fall slowly back. They soon begin to regard their parents in the light of memory and to look upon others in the light of hope."

They will not trouble you long. Children grow up; nothing on earth grows so fast as children. It was but yesterday and that lad was playing with tops, a buoyant boy. He is a man now. There is no more childhood for him or for us. Life has claimed him. When a beginning is made, it is like a raveling stocking; stitch by stitch gives way till all are gone. The house has not a child left in it; there is no more noise in the hall; no boys rush in, pell-mell; it is very orderly now. There are no more skates or sleds, bats, balls, or strings left scattered about. There are no more gleeful laughs of happy girls, or dolls left to litter the best room. There is no delay for sleeping folks; there is no longer any task before you lie down. But the mother's heart is heavy, and the father's house is lonely.

The affections that exist between the members of the same family afford a pleasing spectacle of human happiness. That which exists between brother and sister should be assiduously cultivated. It is a beautiful and lovely feeling, and seems to be wholly angelic in its thoughts and feelings. It must necessarily be a pure, spiritual love. It arises, not from a sense of gratitude, or for favors received, or from any thing save the endearing relationship of family. It rests not on any thing but a spiritual affinity of soul. It should be cultivated as one of the sweetest plants in the garden of the heart. It should be watered every morning and evening with the dews of good nature, and sunned all day with the light of kindness. It should hear nothing but loving and tender words, even the dulcet music of home; see nothing but smiles and the tokens of confidence and sympathy, and know nothing but its own spirit of tenderness and unity.

How large and cherished a place does a good sister's love always hold in the grateful memory of one who has been blessed with the benefit of this relation! How many are there who, in the changes of mature years, have found a sister's love their ready and adequate resource! With what a sense of security is confidence reposed in a good sister, and with what assurance that it will be uprightly and considerately given is her counsel sought! How intimate is the friendship of such a brother and sister not widely separated in age from one another!

What a reliance for warning, caution, and sympathy has each secured in each! How many are the brothers who, when thrown into circumstances of temptation, have found the thought of a sister's love a constant, holy presence, rebuking every wayward thought! How many brothers are there from whom death separated the sister years ago who yet feel her influence thrown around them like sweet incense from an unseen censer; who are arrested, when just about to take a downward step, by the memory of a reproving look from eyes that have long been closed; who have pursued their weary path of duty, cheered by the remembrance of a smile from lips that will never smile again!

Who can tell the thoughts that cluster around the word sister? How ready she is to forgive the foibles of a brother! She never deserts him. In adversity she clings closely to him, and in trial she cheers him. When the bitter voice of reproach is poured in his ears she is ever ready to hush its hard tones, and to turn his attention away from its painful notes. Let him move in pleasant paths, she hangs clusters of flowers about him.

In watching his favored career and listening to his eulogy she feels the purest satisfaction. The cold grave can not crush her affections for him—it outlives her tears and sighs; and hence she often wanders to the spot where he reposes with the fragrant rose-bush and creeping honeysuckle, and plants them on his tomb; and who will dare to affirm her love perishes when she passes away from earth? May it not live far off in the glorious land, increasing in fervor and intensity as the years of eternity pass away?

Affection does not beget weakness, nor is it effeminate for a brother to be firmly attached to a sister. Such a boy will make a noble and brave man. The young man who was accustomed to kiss his sweet, innocent sister night and morning as they met shows its influence upon him. He will never forget it, and when he shall take some one to his heart as his wife she shall reap the golden fruits thereof. The young man who is in the habit of giving his arm to his sister as they walk to and from church will never leave his wife to find her way as best she can. He who has been trained to see that his sister was seated before he sought his own will never mortify a neglected wife in the presence of strangers. And the young man who frequently handed his sister to her chair at the table will never have cause to blush as he sees some gentleman extend to his wife the courtesy she knows is due from him.

The intercourse of brother and sister forms an important element in the happy influence of home. A boisterous or a selfish boy may try to domineer over the weaker or more dependent girl. But generally the latter exerts a softening influence. The brother animates and heartens; the sister modifies and refines. The vine-tree and its sustaining elm are the emblems of such a relation; and by such agencies our "sons may become like plants grown up in youth, and our daughters like corner-stones polished after the similitude of a temple."

Sisters scarcely know the influence they have over their brothers. A young man is pretty much what his sister and young lady friends choose to make him. If sisters are watchful and affectionate they may in various ways lead them along till their characters are formed, and then a high respect for ladies and a manly self-respect will keep them from mingling in low society.

Girls, especially those who are members of a large family, have a great influence at home, where brothers delight in their sisters, and where parents look fondly down on their daughters. Girls have much in their power with regard to those boys; they have in their power to make them gentler, truer, purer; to give them higher opinion of woman; to soften their manner and ways; to tone down rough places, and shape sharp, angular corners. They should interest themselves in their pursuits, and show them by every means in their power that they do not consider them and their doings beneath their notice.

But few sisters realize how much they have to do with the welfare of their brothers—how much it is in their power to win them to the right modes of thoughts and actions by little acts of sisterly attentions. If they would but spare an hour now and then from their peculiar employment to their boyish sports, and not turn contemptuously away from the books and amusements in which they delight, they would soon find how a gentle word would turn off a sharp answer; how a genial look would effectually reprove an unfitting expression; how gratefully a small kindness would be received, and how unbounded would be the power for good they would obtain by a continuance of such conduct.

Fortunate is the family that possesses such an elder sister. The mother confides in her, the father takes pride in her ability to aid and cheer the household, and the younger ones lean upon her. By her counsels, her example, her influence, she may do as much as the parents to give to the family life. She is at once companion and counselor for the younger members, since separated by only a brief interval from the sports of childhood she can sympathize easily with the little wants and little griefs that fill the child's heart to overflowing, and show it how to compass its desires and forget its sorrows. A short girlhood is usually the allotment of the oldest daughter; but this is more than made up to her in the long and delightful companionship she has with her mother, in the sense she is made to have of her own importance in the family, and the unusual capability she is obliged by the force of circumstances to acquire and display.

It is a law of our being that no improvement that takes place in either of the sexes is confined to itself; each is the universal mirror to each, and the refinements of the one will always be in reciprocal proportion to the polish of the other. The brother and sister should grow up together, be educated at the same school, engage in the same sports, and, as far as practicable, in the same labors. Their joys and sorrows, tastes and aims, should be mutual as far as possible. The same moral lessons, obligations, and duties should bear upon them. It is an error that the youths of our land are separated in so many of the most important duties of life.

Much evil is caused by mistaken opinions on this point. The girls are taught that it is not pretty to be with the boys and the boys that it is not manly to be with the girls, while at the same time the society of each is necessary for the best development of character in the other. When they do meet it is only for sport and nonsense, to cajole and deceive each other. Hence the good influence they should have upon each other is in a great measure lost. They are unacquainted with each other, know not each other's natures, and have but little interest in each other's business and duties.

We want the girls to rival the boys in all that is good, refined, and ennobling. We want them to rival the boys, as they well can, in learning, in understanding, in all noble qualities of mind and heart, but not in any of the rougher qualities and traits. We want the girls to be gentle—not weak, but gentle—and kind and affectionate. We want to be sure that wherever a girl is there should be a sweet, subduing, and harmonizing influence of purity and truth and love pervading and hallowing from center to circumference the entire circle in which she moves. It is her mission to instruct the boys in all needful lessons of neatness and order, of patience and goodness.

We want the boys to be gentle, courteous, and considerate towards their younger sisters; to be the protector and emulator of their virtues. We want to be sure that where there is a boy there will go forth the influence inspired by the courage of manly self-respect—a respect that keeps him from mingling in low society. We want him to be every whit a man, a fit friend and companion for true womanhood. We want to see them both enjoy the Spring-time of life, for this is the season of joy, of bliss, of strength, of pride; it is the treasury of life, in which nature stores up those riches which are for our future employment and profit. Youth is to age what the flower is to the fruit, the leaf to the tree, the sand to the glass. Hence we want to see them both so using the golden age of youth as to be able to reap a rich harvest in the years of maturity.

Manhood is the isthmus between two extremes—the ripe, the fertile season of action, when alone we can hope to find the head to contrive united with the hand to execute.

Each age has its peculiar duties and privileges, pleasures and pains. When young we trust ourselves too much; when old we trust others too little. Rashness is the error of youth, timid caution of age. In youth we build castles and plan for ourselves a course of action through life. As we approach old age we see more and more plainly that we are simply carried forward by a mighty torrent, borne here and there against our will. We then perceive how little control we have had in reality over our course; that our actions, resolves, and endeavors, which seemed to give such a guiding course to our life,

"Are but eddies of the mighty stream That rolls to its appointed end."

In childhood time goes by on leaden wings,—ten, twenty years, a life-time seems an endless period. At manhood we are surprised that time goes so rapidly; we then comprehend the fleeting period of life. In old age the years that are passed seem as a dream of the night, our life as a tale nearly told. Childhood is the season of dreams and high resolves; manhood, of plans and actions; age, of retrospection and regret.

There is certainly no age more potential for good or evil than that of early manhood. The young men have, with much propriety, been denominated the flower of a country. To be a man and seem to be one are two different things. All young men should carefully consider what is meant by manhood. It does not consist in years simply, nor in form and figure. It lies above and beyond these things. It is the product of the cultivation of every power of the soul, and of every high spiritual quality naturally inherent or graciously supplemented. It should be the great object of living to attain this true manhood. There is no higher pursuit for the youth to propose to himself. He is standing at the opening gates of active life. There he catches the first glimpse of the possibilities in store for him. There he first perceives the duties that will shortly devolve upon him. What higher aim can he propose to himself than to act his part in life as becomes a man who lives not only for time but for eternity? How earnestly should he resolve to walk worthily in all that true manhood requires!

There are certain claims, great and weighty, resting upon all young men which they can not shake off if they would. They grow out of those indissoluble relations which they sustain to society, and those invaluable interests—social, civil, and religious—with all the duties and responsibilities connected with them, which are soon to be transferred to their shoulders from the venerable fathers who have borne the burden and heat of the day. The various departments of business and trust, the pulpit and the bar, our courts of justice and halls of legislation, our civil, religious, and literary institutions, all, in short, that constitute society and go to make life useful and happy, are to be in their hands and under their control.

Society, in committing to the young her interests and privileges, imposes upon them corresponding claims, and demands that they be prepared to fill with honor and usefulness the places which they are destined to occupy. Young men can not take a rational view of the station to which they are advancing, or of the duties that are coming upon them, without feeling deeply their need of high and peculiar qualifications.

Every young man should come forward in life with a determination to do all the good he can, and to leave the world the better for his having lived in it. He should consider that he was not made for himself alone, but for society, for mankind, and for God. He should consider that he is a constituent, responsible member of the great family of man, and, while he should pay particular attention to the wants and welfare of those with whom he is immediately connected, he should accustom himself to send his thoughts abroad over the wide field of practical benevolence.

There is within the young man an uprising of lofty sentiments which contribute to his elevation, and though there are obstacles to be surmounted and difficulties to be vanquished, yet with truth for his watchword, and relying on his own noble purposes and exertions, he may crown his brow with imperishable honors. He may never wear the warrior's crimson wreath, the poet's chaplet of bays, or the statesman's laurels; though no grand, universal truth may at his bidding stand confessed to the world; though it may never be his to bring to a successful issue a great political revolution; to be the founder of a republic which shall be a distinguished star in the constellation of nations; even more, though his name may never be heard beyond the narrow limits of his own neighborhood, yet is his mission none the less a high and noble one.

In the moral and physical world not only the field of battle but also the cause of truth and virtue calls for champions, and the field for doing good is white unto the harvest. If he enlists in the ranks, and his spirits faint not, he may write his name among the stars of heaven. Beautiful lives have blossomed in the darkest places, as pure, white lilies, full of fragrance, sometimes bloom on the slimy, stagnant waters. No possession is so productive of real influence as a highly cultivated intellect. Wealth, birth, and official station may and do secure an external, superficial courtesy, but they never did and never can secure the reverence of the heart. It is only to the man of large and noble soul—to him who blends a cultivated mind with an upright heart—that men yield the tribute of deep and genuine respect. A man should never glory in that which is common to a beast; nor a wise man in that which is common to a fool; nor a good man in that which is common to a wicked man.

Since it is in the intellect that we trace the source of all that is great and noble in man it follows that if any are ambitious to possess a true manhood they will be men of reflection, men whose daily acts are controlled by their judgment, men who recognize the fact that life is a real and earnest affair, that time is fleeting, and, consequently, resolve to waste none of it in frivolities; men whose life and conversation are indicative of that serious mien and deportment which well becomes those who have great interests committed to their charge, and who are determined that in so far as in them lies life with them shall be a success, who fully realize the importance of every step they may take, and, consequently, bring to it the careful consideration of a mind trained to think with precision.

The man who thinks, reads, studies, and meditates has intelligence cut in his features, stamped on his brow, and gleaming in his eye. Thinking, not growth, makes perfect manhood. There are some who, though they are done growing, are only boys. The constitution may be fixed while the judgment is immature; the limbs may be strong while the reasoning is feeble. Many who can run and jump and bear any fatigue can not observe, can not examine, can not reason or judge, contrive or execute—they do not think. Such persons, though they may have the figure of a man and the years of a man, are not in possession of manhood; they will not acquire it until they learn to look beyond the present, and take broad and comprehensive views of their relations to society.

As we often mistake glittering tinsel for solid gold, so we often mistake specious appearances for true worth and manhood. We are too prone to take professions and words in lieu of actions; too easily impressed with good clothes and polite bearings to inquire into the character and doings of the individual. Man should be rated, not by his hoards of gold, not by the simple or temporary influence he may for a time exert, but by his unexceptionable principles relative both to character and religion. Strike out these and what is he? A savage without sympathy! Take them away, and his manship is gone; he no longer lives in the image of his Creator. No smile gladdens his lips, no look of sympathy illumes his countenance to tell of love and charity for the woes of others.

But let man go abroad with just principles, and what is he? An exhaustless fountain in a vast desert! A glorious sun, shining ever, dispelling every vestige of darkness. There is love animating his heart, sympathy breathing in every tone. Tears of pity—dew-drops of the soul—gather in his eye, and gush impetuously down his cheek. A good man is abroad, and the world knows and feels it. Beneath his smile lurks no degrading passion; within his heart there slumbers no guile. He is not exalted in mortal pride, not elevated in his own views, but honest, moral, and virtuous before the world. He stands throned on truth; his fortress is wisdom, and his dominion is the vast and limitless universe. Always upright, kind, and sympathizing; always attached to just principles, and actuated by the same, governed by the highest motives in doing good; these constitute his only true manliness.

It should be the highest ambition of every young woman to possess a true womanhood. Earth presents no higher object of attainment. To be a woman is the truest and best thing beneath the skies. A true woman exists independent of outward adornments. It is not wealth, or beauty of person, or connection, or station, or power of mind, or literary attainments, or variety and richness of outward accomplishments, that make the woman. These often adorn womanhood, as the ivy adorns the oak, but they should never be mistaken for the thing they adorn.

The great error of womankind is that they take the shadow for the substance, the glitter for the gold, the heraldry and trappings of the world for the priceless essence of womanly worth which exists within the mind. Every young man, as a general rule, has some purpose laid down for the grand object of his life—some plan, for the accomplishment of which all his other actions are made to serve as auxiliaries. It is to be regretted that every young woman does not also have a set purpose of life—some grand aim, grand in its character. She should, in the first place, know what she is, what power she possesses, what influences are to go out from her, what position in life she was designed to fill, what duties are resting upon her, what she is capable of being, what fields of profit and pleasure are open to her, how much joy and pleasure she may find in a true life of womanly activity.