for his tired body, and sympathy for his disquieted and disturbed mind; or, on the contrary, it is the last place where her husband cares to go,-where bickering and contention utterly prevent that harmony and companionship which make the true home the sweetest spot on earth, so admirably described by the poet :—

"The treasures of the deep are not so precious
As are the concealed comforts of a man
Locked up in woman's love;-I scent the air
Of blessings when I come but near the house."

There ought to be a restraining influence in the avoiding of evil and idle companionships by the thought that although temptation may have been yielded to in company, the consequences must be borne alone. A modern writer has truthfully said: "Evil companions are strong to seduce, but heartless to sustain their victims. They will exhaust your means, teach you to despise the God of your fathers, lead you into every sin, go with you while you afford them any pleasure or profit; and then, when the inevitable disaster of wickedness begins to overwhelm you, they will abandon whom they have debauched. When at length death gnaws at your bones and knocks at your heart; when staggering and worn out, your courage wasted, your hope gone, your purity, and, long, long ago, your peace,—will he who first enticed your steps now serve your extremity with one office of kindness? Will he stay your head, cheer your dying agony with one word of hope, or light the way for your coward steps to the grave, or weep when you are gone, or send one pitiful scrap to your

desolate family? What reveller wears crape for a dead drunkard? what gang of gamblers ever intermitted a game for the death of a companion, or went on a kind mission of relief to a broken-down fellow-gambler ? what harlot weeps for a harlot? what debauchee mourns for a debauchee? They would carouse at your funeral and gamble on your coffin. If one flush more of pleasure were to be had by it, they would drink shame and ridicule to your memory out of your own skull, and roar in bacchanal revelry over your damnation! All the shameless atrocities of wicked men are nothing to their heartlessness toward each other when broken down. As I have seen worms writhing on a carcass, over-crawling each other, and elevating their fiery heads in petty ferocity against each other, while all were enshrined in the corruption of a common carrion, I have thought, Ah! shameful picture of wicked men tempting each other, abetting each other, until calamity overtook them, and then fighting and devouring or abandoning each other, without pity, or sorrow, or compassion, or remorse. Evil men of every degree will use you, flatter you, lead you on until you are useless; then, if the virtuous do not pity you, or God compassionate, you are without a friend in the universe."

XVI.

Manners and Conduct.

"I would that you would all read and consider well the traits of an opposite character in the biography of Sidney Smith. The love and admiration which that truly brave and loving man won from every one, rich or poor, with whom he came in contact, seem to me to have arisen from the one fact, that, without perhaps having any such conscious intention, he treated rich and poor, his own servants and the noblemen his guests, alike, and alike courteously, considerately, cheerfully, affectionately; so leaving a blessing and reaping a blessing wheresoever he went."-KINGSLEY.

OME one has said, "Manners make the man;" the converse is not less true-that without manners no one is entitled to the manly

designation. Manners not unfrequently lead to fortune, obtain introductions to the best society, secure important and valuable friendships, and are passports to positions of eminence, fame, and wealth. How success is influenced by manners, by the sweetness of deportment, is seen in daily life. Tradesmen who are civil and obliging, who have acquired the art of "manners," and to whom the art has become habit, are sure of patronage and support. The houses of other tradesmen will be passed; distance will be no hindrance, in order to be served by the tradesman who has the grace of manners, and to whom trouble is no trouble,

but, on the contrary, pleasure. Emerson well observed when writing upon the subject of manners: "When we reflect on their persuasive and cheering force, how they recommend, prepare, and draw people together; how, in all clubs, manners make the members; how manners make the fortune of the ambitious youth,-that, for the most part, his manners marry him, and, for the most part, he marries manners;-when we think what keys they are, and to what secrets; what high lessons and inspiring tokens of character they convey; and what divination is required in us for the reading of this fine telegraph, we see what range the subject has, and what relations to convenience, power, and beauty." The range is only limited by human existence. There is no state or condition of life, no position, however eminent or lowly, that is not influenced and affected by manners. Give a boy address and accomplishments," says Emerson, "and you give him the mastery of palaces and fortunes wherever he goes: he has not the trouble of earning or owning them; they solicit him to enter and possess." That was a strange saying of the accomplished American author Hawthorne: "God may forgive sins, but awkwardness has no forgiveness in heaven or earth.” He evidently meant that awkwardness was immediately rewarded with its own punishment; and forgiveness could not, as it does not, ward off results. Chesterfield wrote to his son: "You had better return a dropped fan genteelly than give a thousand pounds awkwardly; and you had better refuse a favour gracefully than grant it clumsily. All your Greek can never advance

you from secretary to envoy, or from envoy to ambassador; but your address, your air, your manner, if good, may." An instance of the advantage of manners, which is but another word for courtesy and kindness, occurred to a gentleman when in Turin. On sauntering through the city he met a regiment of infantry returning from parade, and taking a position to see it pass, a young captain, evidently desirous of making a display before the stranger, in crossing one of the numerous watercourses with which the city is intersected, missed his footing, and trying to save himself lost his hat. The spectators laughed, and looked at the Englishman, expecting him to laugh too. On the contrary, he not only retained his composure, but promptly advanced to where the hat rolled, and taking it up presented it with an air of kindness to its confused owner. The officer received it with a blush of surprise and gratitude, and hurried to rejoin his company. There was a murmur of applause, and the stranger passed on. Though the scene of a moment, and without a word spoken, it touched every heart.

On the regiment being dismissed, the captain, who was a young man of consideration, in glowing terms related the circumstance to his colonel. The colonel immediately mentioned it to the general in command; and when the Englishman returned to his hotel, he found an aid-de-camp waiting to request his company at dinner at head-quarters. In the evening he was taken to court, at that time the most brilliant court in Europe, and was received with particular attention.