Year: 1877

world, but up from the valley comes n


voice, nor out of the heavens sound
Only the birds sing in the branches tina
almost touch your feet from tall tres
springing up on the nearest crags be
low. 1t is pleasant, impressive, enlarg
ing; but it is -nOt-stsying at hom
without grumbling!


To do that you must turn away from
the shifting glory of the clouds and tn
everlasting hills, and steadfastly con
template the iron chain which hang
from your fourth story window TO tn,
ground, and down which you are ex
pected to travel at midnight. hand ovel
hand, in case your hotel is burned, a
there seems every reason to suppose /
will be. A fire escape they call it
speaking with grim irony.


But ours not TO make reply,


| Not 20 ask the reason WHY


| Ours but 10 do or die;


and we shall certainly do both if we ar,
ever reduced to that chain lightning
| Observations and reflections of thii
sort make home look very welcoming
and perhaps some reflections of this sor
are necessary to give glow and zest to
home. ! fear | shall displease, perhap:
disappOint, my readers, but nothing
makes home so delightful as TO hav,
just got there. The feeling of owner,
ship, the sense of independence, the
consciousness of responsibility. the
universal and absolute sovereignty
broaden your acres and heighten your
walls. Your gate may be unhinged
and the paint taking off your roof, and
your cellar window broken, but the
dragging gate and the piebald roof and
the haggard window are your own; and
you will order up the glazier and the
cooper with a very delightful feeling
that one little superficial spot on one
little star of the great Milky Way be-
longs TO you and to no other man or
angel!


Keeping house is with most of ia q
house so much as the house keeps us.
We strain every nerve to build costly
box and fill it with costly goods and
then We spend the rest of our lives
crouching inside of it. And all the
while the bending heavens are giving
us such frescoes as no painter can imi-
tate, and the careless greensward,
| locked with daisies, mocks even an
Eastlake carpet, and every day the
birds and the bobolinks-that are more
spirits than birds-put our wood and
metal music to shame. But we have
built fine house and We must stay in
it TO keep out moth and rust and tramp.
And as we stay the little chains grow
heavy and gall us, the little annoyances
sprOut and spring and spread till they
brood over us and hide the sun. And
the reason is not that we are peevish
selfish, unreasonable, nor that life is
harder for us than for our neighbors
1t is only that we need movement-a
freshened circulation of the blood, fresh
breezes blowing through the brain, the
slight stir and stimulous of changed
surroundings.


We may talk as much as we like of
contentment, and tranquility, and the
quiet joys of home, but firmly believe
that nothing is so bad for the nerves,
nothing so narrowing to the life, as
staying too much In one place. There
are many perplexities and entangle-
ments which would be smoothed and
soothed out by only so much as brisk
little ramble up high hill holding the
mountains and the sea in sight. One
month of sight seeing to the weary
hOusekeeper who has been eleven
months looking carefully TO her cup
boards and carpets, one month of lazy
listening to the roar of the surf, one
month of lounging in hammock under
trees, or lying on the grass watching
the ant hill, would do more TO sweeten
and sanctifly the other eleven than all
the precepts of all the sages and all the
preaching of all our pages. And if you
ask, What shall we do who cannot af-
ford it, l should still say, Go and sell
all that thou hast and afford it,


The riches of Divine Grace are mex
haustible, but at least do not see how
even Divine Grace can keep people con-
stantly in the same round of small cares
and duties and yet make them serene,
large natured and constantly growing.
For Divine Grace apparently did not
intend that human beings should re-
main constantly in such circle. Even
in our rigorous climate there comes a
royal hour when the whole wide world
woos us out TO the hills, to the woods,
to the sounding shores; and there is not
any way, there ought not TO be any way,
to stay at home without grumbling. 1t
is our first duty to grumble. Grumbling
is the proper tribute to pay TO Natures
lavish beauty and lordly inviting-the
proper moan and mourning for those
violated laws which force us to decline
her bidding. A divine discomfort with
wrong is the first step towards right.
No one is wholly quenched and he sub
mits to stagnation in silence. If every
body will only grumble loud enough
and in just the right way and time,
under unnecessary or unwise priva-
tions, we shall soon have things on a
better foOting--a brisk and salubrious
activity among all the sluggish little
atoms that compose depressed human
ity, and home-staying not only without
grumbliDg but with keen, vivid and
creative enjoyment.-Christidn Union.


Steerage Diet.