tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">Ambition.

The Need of a "Balance of Power" in the Mind—As a General Thing Ambition a Quality to be Curbed—Assassination of Merit by Envy—The Man Qualified to Deal with Ambition—A Picture of His Unhappy Lot, as Illustrated in Napoleon's Life—Poem.

The Republic's Anchor.

A Favorite Chapter—The Telegraph Outriding the Storms—The Farmers the Grand Conservative Forces of the Republic—Difference between Business and Farming—How the Farmers Will Settle the Communists and the Magnates—The Farmer's Sons—A Plea for Them—A Picture of the Opportunities which We are Daily Missing.

Temperance.

The Drunkard's Wife—A Drama of Horror—Why Society Looks So Calmly on Such Scenes—The Wisdom and Experience of Society—Effort of the Brother to Improve His Sister's Condition—The Result—What Society Is Doing—The Drift of Things—Views of the Future—A Better Time nearly at Hand.

A Good Name.

The Highest Type of Reputation, a Silent but Powerful Influence—Two Instances of Good Reputation—Tall Masts Needed for Great Ships—The Difference between Greatness on the Inside of a Man, and Great Appearances on the Outside.

Worship.

Paramount Importance of Family Services—The Iron Duke's Remark—Sayings of the Wisest and Best—Scenes in Burned Chicago—Newton and La Place—Their Testimony—Victor Hugo: "I believe in the Sublimity of Prayer"—Wordsworth's Apostrophe—Young's Prayer—A Sweet Supplication.

The Atheist.

The Owlet Atheism—Hammer and Tongs used to work in Fire—False Headings on News—On The Plains of Chaldæa—The Voice of Duty ever in the way of the Atheist—A Creator Demanded by Reason—The Atheist Like Falstaff, Leading a very Scrubby File of Soldiers.

The Bible.

The Bible is Authentic, Old, Beautiful—It is the Only Hope We have—It Out-dates the Chinese Empire—Everything Good and Progressive is Founded on It—Practical Value of Studying It—Its Eloquence—Its Triumphs in an Infinitude of Tests.

The Evening of Life.

Age the Outer Shore against which Dashes an Eternity—We are on a small Planet, but We Belong to a Larger Celestial Empire—The Undevout Astronomer Insane—Does the Beast Peer into the Stars?—Eternity is not a conceit of Man—Apostrophe to a Patriarch.

The Future Life.

Cato's Soliloquy—Promises of God's Word clothed in Syllables of Unsurpassable Sweetness—He that holdeth the Pleiades in His Right Hand—Blissful Forecasts—Shall God weigh out Arcturus to Stop the Unreasoning Clamor of the Fool who Hath Said in His Heart there Is No God? Conclusion.

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer,
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. —Edgar Poe.

golden censer swings in the Temple of Life, making holy its halls and grateful its corridors. This fountain of our well-being is Duty. There is little true pleasure in the world which does not flow, either directly or remotely, from its depths.

It shall be the object of this volume to point out and name a few of the balms which burn in this Unseen Censer—a few of the lines of action which render our memories sweet and forever pleasant if they be wrapt in such perfume.

THE PALACE OF THE SOUL.

When the incense of a man's good actions spreads through the palace of the soul, "the powers that wait on noble deeds" light up the edifice with radiance brought from other worlds. In the eye of a good man—in the window of the palace of his soul—we behold an occupant who fears no duty. We are fascinated, and gather about, anxious to peer in upon the fortunate possessor. Therein lies the happiness and the force of good example.

But let the Censer burn low, and flicker in final sickliness; the great bell called Conscience, hanging in the dome, strikes an alarm that rocks the building. How oft the solemn tocsin sounds! It drives us to our duty! Let us be thankful its clangor is so harsh!

THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY,

the man whose heart was torn each time his soldiers' feet did bleed—the man who stood like a rock between the despot and the down-trodden—that man, at the end of the career which glorified him, and which, with reflected glory will light the annals of all coming centuries—that kind, good man, George Washington, could not discern the separating line between Duty and human happiness. "The consideration that human happiness and moral duty," he said, "are inseparately connected, will always continue to prompt me to promote the progress of the one by inculcating the practice of the other."

LET US KEEP THE GOLDEN CENSER BURNING

with the frankincense of our highest endeavors. "Let us," as Theodore Parker once said, "do our duty in our shop, or our kitchen, the market, the street, the office, the school, the home, just as faithfully as if we stood in the front rank of some great battle, and we knew that victory for mankind depended on our bravery, strength, and skill. When we do that, the humblest of us will be serving in that great army which achieves the welfare of the world."

THE SOLDIER GOES FORTH

with his loins girded, hoping to conquer in the hard battles of life. Let the incense of Duty cling to his garments and keep him clean from selfish contagion. How lovely the picture of that old man of Goldsmith's time, swinging the Golden Censer before the hearts that throbbed in unison with him:

He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all;
And as a bird each fond endearment tries,

To tempt her new-fledged offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Our duty was created with us. It is a pleasure to live. What then should be the pleasure to think there is a place for us—a duty beneficently made that gives us rights with our fellow-creatures? What though the