The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-12-25 00:00:00

ILLUST_RATIONS OF ENGLISH
Pl?0-VERB S.

"A merry Christmas and a happy new year!"

A PROVERB this in general use just now—a greeting to be
found in every body's mouth. Well, if the lips truly had.as
close a connection with the heart as they ought to have, the
wish would be sincere, and being sincere, whether realized or
not, would bring home to the object of our professed regard
a feeling of trust and thankfulness. There is, however, in
these our days such a hypocritical assumption of the garb of
friendship, that renders it a very difficult matter to ascertain
the real meaning and expression of seemingly kind words and
offices; there exists a hollowness, a rottenness in what looks
to be the soundest heart : in a word, those about us in the
dealings of life, are not in a great measure what they appear
to be. In this respect they may be said to resemble a mirage
in the desert, which seems in the distance to be a lake of
water; but, instead of relieving the thirst of the perishing
caravan, allures with false hope, and serves only to provoke
the dying curse of those whom it deceives. Jnst as a cypress
tree, so is mere profession of esteem : it is tall and command-
ing, but where is the fruit ? Let us, then, and especially at
this festive season, seek to cultivate true sincerity of heart,
for without it all our good wishes, or even acts of so-called
kindness, are but as " sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal."
If from the world without, however, we are led to suspect
so much deceitfulness and empty show, we may, at least, look
upon the family hearth and social circle, and there indulge in
a rail and genuine reciprocity of good will. Christmas,
therefore, is a time especially calculated to teach us the com-
forts of one's own fireside,—to draw and knit together the
more sacred relationships of life in closer bonds of peace and
love. In this respect, "there is no place like home." Here;
at least, is a sanctuary amid all the losses and troubles of
life. If there be kindness anywhere, it must be found at
home ;—if obedience to every wish,—if the thousand delicate
attentions which, like the tree cast into the bitter waters of
:coder sweet,—if true sympathy, if a feeling of
security and independence, if liberty without restraint,—
where can these be found except they be found at home !
Home is the citadel in which we are to select our weapons
and gird on our armour, which shall fortify us amid thehard-
ships and struggles of this mortal life. A happy, united
home may be well compared to a perfect lightning conductor,
down which the fire of heaven will run innocuously, without
endangering the edifice. Home is as a beehive : there may be
much toil; much change, but there will always be a honeyed
sweetness. Without a home, we may be compared to the
cuckoo, which has no nest ; or the butterfly, which has no
hive. The one, is it not proverbial for selfishness and folly
and the other for levity and worldly-mindedness ? But the
domestic hearth, on the contrary, may be likened to the
parent hen or insect bee : here is affection and frugal industry
Again, home is home, be it never so " lowly ;"—it is not the
noblest mansion or the greatest luxuries of food and clothing
which constitute a happy home ! Listen to Bobby Burns:—
" At length his lowly cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree.
The expectant wee things' toddling, stagger through
To meet their dad, with fluttering noise and glee.
His clean hearth-stone, his thrifty wife's smile,
The lisping infant prattling on his knee,
Does all his weary, carking cares beguile,
And makes him quite forget his labour and his toil."
Join we, then, with hearty chorus, and around the Christmas
fireside—

"'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, wherever we rove, is not met with elsewhere.
Home! home I sweet home:
There's no place like home, there's no place like home!
Liverpool, December, 1855. G. D.