t in
Twelve Lessons" will not teach. The receipt for making it is not a
handful of this, a cup of that and a spoonful of something else. It is
not something sweetened with ordinary condiments, or flavored with
ordinary flavors, or baked in ordinary ovens. It is the loaf of
domestic happiness; and all the ingredients come down from heaven, and
the fruits are plucked from the tree of life, and it is sweetened with
the new wine of the kingdom, and it is baked in the oven of home
trial. Solomon wrote out of his own experience. He had a wretched
home. A man cannot be happy with two wives, much less six hundred; and
he says, writing out of his own experience: "Better is a dinner of
herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith."

GLORIOUS SELF-SACRIFICE.

How great are the responsibilities of housekeepers! Sometimes an
indigestible article of food, by its effect upon a commander or king,
has defeated an army or over-thrown an empire. Housekeepers by the
food they provide, by the couches they spread, by the books they
introduce, by the influences they bring around the home, are deciding
the physical, intellectual, moral, eternal destiny of the race.

You say your life is one of sacrifice. I know it. But, my sisters,
that is the only life worth living. That was Florence Nightingale's
life; that was Payson's life; that was Christ's life. We admire it in
others, but how very hard it is for us to cultivate ourselves. When in
this city young Dr. Hutchison, having spent a whole night in a
diphtheritic room for the relief of a patient, became saturated with
the poison and died, we all felt as if we would like to put garlands
on his grave; everybody appreciates that. When in the burning hotel at
St. Louis a young man on the fifth story broke open the door of the
room where his mother was sleeping, and plunged in amid smoke and
fire, crying: "Mother! where are you?" and never came out, our hearts
applauded that young man. But how few of us have the Christ-like
spirit--a willingness to suffer for others!

A BARBAROUS PEDAGOGUE.

A rough teacher in a school called upon a poor, half-starved lad, who
had offended against the laws of the school, and said: "Take off your
coat directly, sir." The boy refused to take it off, whereupon the
teacher said again: "Take off your coat, sir," as he swung the whip
through the air. The boy refused. It was not because he was afraid of
the lash--he was used to that at home--but it