(As if one master-spring controlled them all)
Relaxed into a universal grin,

Sees not a countenance there that speaks of joy,
Half so refined and so sincere as ours."

The domestic relations of man, pressing, as they do, the most sensibly upon the heart, give charac ter to the whole tenor of his emotions. Let him undervalue the enjoyments to be found in the bosom of a beloved family-let him be, comparatively, a stranger to his own fire-side-and it is in vain that he seeks for happiness elsewhere. He may mingle with the bacchanalian throng, and join in their phrensied glee—he may visit the crowded theatre, and listen to the stale jokes and lascivious songs, and gaze upon the pasteboard grandeur and tawdry displays of the "scenic stage”—or lounge his time away at some favorite haunt, in company with "congenial spirits," relating thrice-told tales, and laughing at threadbare witticisms-but still he is a stranger to true enjoyment-an aching void is in his soul, which he has no power to fill; for the spirit of domestic love sheds not its holy influences in his heart-he overlooks, he rejects, he destroys it! But the husband who values home as he ought, finds it a fountain of the purest delights. Let his labors be multiplied and the cares of business increase, he can bear up beneath them--let the clouds and tempests which so often convulse the business world gather around they fill him not with despair, they rob him not of peace. When evening comes, in his home, he finds a little paradise to which he can retreat, and in the sunshine

of love's warm rays, and amid the fond endear ments of those most precious to his soul, forgets all the outer world, with it cares and vexations. The evening glides sweetly away, amid mutual smiles and kind attentions, and richly rewards him for all the toils of the day.

Is there a husband who is a stranger to these domestic enjoyments, and who doubts their existence? Alas, that he should doubt that which can so easily be known! Let him test the reality of the picture I have endeavored to paint. As an experiment, let him set apart one month, and resolve that he will spend each evening in the bosom of his family, unless called away by some special business. To allow the trial to be a fair one, he must cast aside all his testy, querulous, sour feelings, and commence with a determination to be pleasant, sociable, and agreeable, and with a strong desire, not only to be happy himself, but to make others happy also. If this experiment is made in a proper manner, and with a right spirit, I am confident the husband will soon look upon those evening scenes as the happiest periods of his life; and as each day rolls away, will exclaim

"Come, evening, once again, season of peace;
Return, sweet evening, and continue long!
Methinks I see thee in the streaky West,
With matron-step slow moving, while the night
Treads on thy sweeping train: one hand employed

In letting fall the curtain of repose

On bird and beast, the other charged for man

With sweet oblivion of the cares of day."

After the labors and studies of the day are ended, nothing can be more appropriate or delightful, than one, or two, or three hours of conversation-the length of the time to be determined, of course, by the length of the evening-around the domestic fire-side; the whole family, whether large or small, being together. The damp air of the evening seems to admonish us; the darkness admonishes us; the danger to health and morals admonishes us-why will we not heed the admonition ?"*

This subject is of the utmost importance to the young husband. The happiness of his life depends greatly upon the habits which he establishes in this respect. He should, therefore, seriously contemplate, and rightly value the salutary influences exerted by a strong attachment to domestic enjoyments. He should strive to cultivate the spirit of domestic love, and allow it to become a living, active principle within him, so that he can truly and feelingly join in the thrilling language of the poet Croley :

"O love of loves! to thy white hand is given

Of earthly happiness the golden key;
Thine are the joyous hours of Winter's even,

When the babes cling around their father's knee;
And thine the voice that on the midnight sea
Melts the rude mariner with thoughts of home,
Peopling the gloom with all he longs to see.
Spirit! I've built a shrine; and thou hast come,
And on its altar closed-for ever closed thy plume."

The Young Husband.

CHAPTER IX.

THE VALUE OF A GOOD REPUTATION.

"Honor and fame from no condition rise,

Act well your part, there all the honor lies."

A GOOD reputation is indispensably necessary to secure respect, prosperity, and peace. Under its shield we are effectually screened and protected from calumny and detraction, and from dishonor and contempt. It affords us the congratulation and rejoicing of well-tried friends in our prosperity, and ensures us their sympathy and aid in adversity. A virtuous name secures the respect and countenance of the reputable, the wise, and good, and is a complete coat of mail, against which the darts of envy or malice will be directed in vain. But without reputation, without the respect and confidence of our fellow-creatures, of what value is life? To feel that we are looked upon with distrust and suspicion that we are disliked, and despised, and shunned, by those whose approbation is an honor, and whose condemnation is a disgrace, and to feel conscious that we merit this disrespect on account of our vicious conduct-what can compensate for such degrading emotions?-what has earth to bestow to induce a thinking mind to adopt a course of life that would be fruitful in such results ? Con

scious innocence is a soothing balm to its possessor-it imparts strength, and vigor, and assurance, under the most trying circumstances. What

though enmity is awake against us-what though detraction is inventing its bitterest calumnies, and malice is assailing with its deadliest fangs? We can smile amid all these attempts at our ruin, when our conscience whispers that we are innocent; for we know that however successful wickedness may appear for a season, however high it may rear its hydra head and boast of its triumphs, truth will ere long destroy it, and annihilate its works, and then our innocence will shine out as the morning, and our integrity as the noon-day sun! But to feel that all those allegations which would be calumny and defamation if applied to the innocent, are just and deserved when applied to ourselves— is there any calamity more to be dreaded and avoided?

A course of uprightness and virtue is the only natural path for man to pursue. He was formed by his Creator to walk in such a path-all his capacities and endowments are peculiarly and expressly adapted for it-and hence it will develope the highest capabilities and attainments, and ensure the utmost enjoyments of his nature.

"Virtue's foundations with the world's were laid;
Heaven mixed her with our make, and twisted close

Her sacred interests with the springs of life.
Who breaks her awful mandate, shocks himself,
His better self."