cross it as to learning: let them not dwell too | Lord, honor and obey, love and cherish, your · long on one thing, but let their change be dear mother. agreeable and all their diversions have some little bodily labor in them. When grown big, have most care for them; for then there are more snares both within and without. When marriageable, see that they have worthy persons in their eye, of good life and good fame for piety and understanding. I need no wealth, but sufficiency. And be sure their love be dear, fervent and mutual, that it may be happy for them. I choose not they should be married to earthly covetous kindred; and of cities and towns of concourse beware the world is apt to stick close to those who have lived and got wealth there. A country life and estate I like best for my children; I prefer a decent mansion of an hundred pounds per annum before ten thousand pounds in London, or such like place, in a way of trade. TO HIS CHILDREN. Be obedient to your dear mother-a woman whose virtue and good name is an honor to you; for she hath been exceeded by none in her time for her integrity, humanity, virtue and good understanding, qualities not usual among women of her worldly condition and quality. Therefore honor and obey her, my dear children, as your mother, and your father's love and delight. Nay, love her, too, for she loved your father with a deep and upright love, choosing him before all her many suitors; and though she be of a delicate constitution and noble spirit, yet she descended to the utmost tenderness and care for you, performing the painfulest acts of service to you in your infancy, as a mother and a nurse too. I charge you, before the Next, betake yourselves to some honest, industrious course of life, and that not of sordid covetousness, but for example and to avoid idleness. And if you change your condition and marry, choose with the knowledge and consent of your mother if living, or of guardians or those that have the charge of you. Mind neither beauty nor riches, but the fear of the Lord and a sweet and amiable disposition, such as you can love above all this world, and that may make your habitations pleasant and desirable to you. And, being married, be tender, affectionate, patient and meek. Be sure to live within compass; borrow not, neither be beholden to any. Ruin not yourself by kindness to others, for that exceeds the due bounds of friendship; neither will a true friend expect it. Small matters I heed not. TO HIS ELDER BOYS. And, as for you, who are likely to be concerned in the government of Pennsylvania, I do charge you before the Lord God and his holy angels that you be lowly, diligent and tender, fearing God, loving the people and hating covetousness. Let justice have its impartial course, and the law free passage. Though to your loss, protect no man against it; for you are not above the law, but the law above you. Live, therefore, the lives yourselves you would have the people live, and then you have right and boldness to punish the transgressor. Keep upon the square, for God sees you; therefore do your duty, and be sure you see with your own eyes and hear with your own ears. Entertain no lurchers; cherish no informers for gain or revenge; use no tricks; fly to no devices to support or cover injustice; | dependent and led captain. dependent and led captain. It gives your but let your hearts be upright before the inferiors just but troublesome and improper Lord, trusting in him above the contriv- claims of equality. A joker is near akin to a ances of men, and none shall be able to buffoon, and neither of them is the least related hurt or supplant. to wit. Whoever is admitted or sought for in company upon any other account than that of his merit and manners is never respected there, but only made use of. We will have such a one, for he sings prettily; we will invite such a one to a ball, for he dances well; we will have such a one at supper, for he is always joking and laughing; we will ask another, because he plays deep at all games or because he can drink a great deal. These are all vilifying distinctions, mortifying preferences, and exclude all ideas of esteem and regard. Whoever is had, as it is called, in company for the sake of any one thing singly, is singly that thing, and will never be considered in any other light, consequently never respected, let his merits be what they may. Finally, my children, love one another with a true endeared love, and your dear relations on both sides, and take care to preserve tender affection in your children to each other, often marrying within themselves, so as to be without the bounds forbidden in God's law, that so they may not, like the forgetting unnatural world, grow out of kindred and as cold as strangers, but, as becomes a truly natural and Christian stock, you, and yours after you, may live in the pure and fervent love of God toward one another, as becometh brethren in the spiritual and natural relation. So farewell to my thrice dearly beloved wife and children! Yours, as God pleaseth, in that in which no waters can quench, no time forget nor distance wear away, but remains for ever. WILLIAM PENN. WORMINGHURST, Fourth of Sixth Month, 1682. PHILIP DORMER STANHOPE (Earl of Chesterfield). SELF-ESTIMATE. FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE. T is right that a man, when he first enters IT on life, should think highly of himself, should determine to attain many eminent distinctions and endeavor to make all things possible; but when his education has advanced to a certain point, it is advantageous for him that he learn to lose himself among a mass of men-that he learn, for the sake of others, to forget himself in an activity prescribed by duty. It is then that he first becomes acquainted with himself, for it is conduct alone that compares us with others Translation of JOHN STUART BLACKIE. THE SOLDIER'S RETURN. OW sweet it was to breathe | And guessed some infant hand had placed it And take possession of my And prized its hue, so exquisite, so rare. solid frame, Appeared the rough initials But rose at once and bursted into tears, of my name, Cut forty years before. The And thought upon the past with shame and pain; I raved at war and all its horrid cost, lost; On carnage, fire and plunder long I mused, And cursed the murdering weapons I had used. Two shadows then I saw, two voices heard: One bespoke age, and one a child's appeared. In stepped my father with convulsive start, And in an instant clasped me to his heart. Close by him stood a little blue-eyed maid, And, stooping to the child, the old man said, "Come hither, Nancy; kiss me once again; This is your uncle Charles, come home from Spain." The child approached, and with her fingers light Stroked my old eyes, almost deprived of sight. But why thus spin my tale-thus tedious be? Had been so lovely, brilliant, fresh and Happy old soldier, what's the world to me? green, ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. PART I. BRIER-ROSE. FROM ST. NICHOLAS. AID Brier-Rose's mother to my child, the Lord Al- You will not scrub the ket tles, and you will not You never sit a minute still "O Lord, what sin did I commit in youthful days, and wild, That thou hast punished me in age with such a wayward child?" Up stole the girl on tiptoe, so that none her step could hear, And, laughing, pressed an airy kiss behind And she, as e'er relenting, sighed, "Oh, at spinning-wheel or Whatever will become of you, my naughty loom." Brier-Rose." Thus grumbled in the morning, and grumbled The sun was high and summer sounds were teeming in the air late at eve, The good wife as she bustled with pot and The clank of scythes, the cricket's whir and tray and sieve; swelling wood-notes rare But Brier-Rose she laughed, and she cocked From field and copse and meadow and her dainty head; through the open door Why, I shall marry, mother dear," full Sweet, fragrant whiffs of new-mown hay the merrily she said. idle breezes bore. of thoughtful mien, "You marry, saucy Brier-Rose! The man Then Brier-Rose grew pensive, like a bird he is not found To marry such a worthless wench, these Whose little life has problems among the seven leagues around." branches green. But Brier-Rose she laughed, and she trilled She heard the river brawling where the tide a merry lay: was swift and strong, 66 Perhaps he'll come, my mother dear, from She heard the summer singing its strange eight leagues away.' alluring song, The good wife with a "Humph!" and a sigh And out she skipped the meadows o'er and forsook the battle, gazed into the sky; And flung her pots and pails about with much Her heart o'erbrimmed with gladness-she vindictive rattle: scarce herself knew why |