idea of compensation to those who never saw the wonders of science that we see, will not soon be forgotten by your friend.”

"Certainly," said Mrs. Vernon, "we've had a bundle of oddities in that letter, and if she often writes such long ones, the penny post must be no small boon to her."

"I heard a lady complain," said aunt Patty, "the penny post had annihilated letters. She explained it by saying, 'people now write merely notes, and a good old-fashioned letter is a rarity.'

"I fancy," said Etty, "that in the hurry of these railway times, long letters would not have much chance of being read. It is not all who are so fond of reading letters as aunt Anna. And as to you, aunt Patty, your favourite reading has been collections of letters."

"Yes; and I mean them to furnish me with a subject for a paper for our evenings. Your mother will come first, then Edward is preparing something suggested by Etty's remarks on chivalry, and after him I shall, I think, be ready. But I intend to treat of female letter writers especially. My sketch, to speak grandly, will be historic, and biographic, and critical!"

While the young people laughed at this lofty announcement—" Meanwhile," said Mrs. Vernon, 66 we shall all be busy letter writing, not only to India, but also to friends who will sympathise in our joy at the happier prospects before some of us.'

This remark introduced desultory conversation on family topics, with which the night concluded.

CHAPTER IX.

DOMESTIC MORALS AND SOCIAL AMENITIES.

THE family circle was not complete on the evening appointed for Mrs. Vernon's paper: and some little time elapsed waiting for absentees.

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Blow, blow, thou wintry wind!" said Etty, as she stirred the fire to a cheerful blaze, and wheeled the sofa nearer to its genial glow. "The wind," she resumed, "seems in a boisterous humour to-night, and means to shout an angry rejoinder to our subject, though the prolonged absence of Edward and Philip appears to indicate that they think domestic morals and social amenities an entirely feminine theme; and therefore, perhaps, unworthy their attention." A reply to negative this assertion shone in the eyes and hovered on the lips of Ellen and Jane, when the brothers entered the room. They had been a walk of some miles to obtain tidings of the health of the principal of the school where Philip lived, and who had recently been severely ill. They alleged the roughness of the weather as the cause of their delay, and thus gave an involuntary denial to Etty's hasty conjecture. She, however, being in a more than usually perverse humour, indulged herself, by remarking, while Mrs. Vernon arranged her papers, "Excuse me, dear mother, but I do rather wonder you have chosen this subject. Certainly no one is fitter than yourself to tell us the philosophy of those amenities, that you so constantly

practise; but, where's the use? our minds are all made up that goodness is very good, just as that sugar is very sweet. Though I, for one, think a little infirmity to the one, and a little acid to the other gives them a flavour."

"Pray don't be alarmed, Etty; there's always plenty of both in this world," said aunt Patty. "Enough acid to set one's teeth on edge," remarked Jane," and that too without wilfully seeking it."

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Well, well! acid, bitter, pungent,—anything is better than insipidity," rejoined Etty.

"I should be sorry, my child, that you ever had practically to test your own theory," said Mrs. Vernon. "My object in the remarks I have to offer you is, to point out that genuine happiness is not a head but a heart matter. That science, and literature, and intelligence, are means and not ends. That the will, the temper, the emotions, require education-that is, watchfulness, training, discipline. It seems to me, that the chief end of modern systems of education is to acquire varied attainments, to gather from numerous sources, to enrich the mind-and this is well; but to educe from the soul the faculty that uses and applies all intellectual advantages is far better. The one is knowledge, the other is wisdom. The one refers to the external life, the other regulates the inner life-nay, I may term it the true art of living, the science of happiness.

"Is it not strange, that people should with constant toil pore over the elements of science, and

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the principles of knowledge, and yet rarely meditate on life and its requirements rarely think definitely on cultivating such a spirit as shall diffuse blessings, and by a necessary consequence enjoy them? In this, as in many matters, it would be easier to do some great thing,' more gratifying to gaze abroad than look within.

"Wisdom dwells with children round her knees,'

said the reflective poet of our age.* That is, home is wisdom's first appropriate sphere; minute and constantly recurring cares her office. Home influence, who can estimate it? Within the homes of a people are the ever-welling springs that feed the great river of the nation. Their purity or pollution cleanse or corrupt the general stream. Let us then think of home as the nursery of the soul for good or evil.

"How is it that the laws which regulate the intercourse of good society, as it is called, are so carefully laid down, and so accurately studied by all who wish for the reputation of good breeding, and yet that so little attention comparatively is paid to the laws which should regulate the intercourse of inmates of the same home? There is no greater social anomaly than this-that people will be studious for the approbation of those they neither esteem nor love, and yet be often most culpably careless of the opinion of those whose affections and interests are identified with their own. Happiness, whether personal or relative, must be culti

* Wordsworth.

vated. It is not a flower indigenous to this world, it requires constant tenderness and care.

"The philosophy of trifles is the first thing to understand. Great events, like great general principles, are either arbitrarily enforced, or immediately conceded. Few persons of ordinary good sense require admonition as to how to meet or deal with them. They are comparatively few: trifles occur perpetually. There are two classes of persons who err about the constantly recurring trifles of social intercourse and home politics, those who exaggerate their importance, and those who despise them. The first will be fussy and fretful, and the last proud and selfish. Here comes in the valuable aid of intelligence, clearly to perceive and justly to estimate the real importance of the apparent trifles. The results likely to arise from the right performance of the humblest duty will be apparent to the calm clear gaze of reason; but yet, the docile will and the kind heart are wanting also, to aid the reason, and to give the all pervading charm of gentleness to the deeds that judgment dictates.

Whatever the amount of correct principle and high intelligence that dignifies a home, temper it is that makes its atmosphere pleasant or the reverse. Good temper is the great beautifier and embellisher of life. It is the sunny ray that dispels the dreary mist, that touches the dark cloud, and paints its fleecy skirts with gold,' that falls on the lowly cottage window, and turns every little cracked glass of the casement into a sparkling diamond.

"You may say, my children, for I see the