rom the restraints of home, and ceased to love the place where
parents would guide them in the path of virtue. Some years ago a
distinguished philanthropist visited a young man about twenty-eight
years of age, who was confined in prison for passing counterfeit money.
His sentence was imprisonment for life. He had become very sad and
penitent in consequence of his imprisonment, and the fact that
consumption was rapidly carrying him to the grave. The philanthropist
inquired into his history. When he spoke to the prisoner of his mother,
he observed that his chin quivered, and that tears came unbidden to his
eyes.

"Was not your mother a Christian?" inquired the visitor.

"Oh yes, sir!" he answered; "many and many a time has she warned me of
this."

"Then you had good Christian parents and wholesome instruction at home,
did you not?"

"Certainly; but it all avails me nothing now."

"Then why are you here?"

Raising himself up in bed to reply to this last inquiry, the young man
said,

"I can answer you that question in a word. I did not obey my parents
nor care for home." And he uttered these last words with a look and tone
of despair that sent a chill through the interrogator's heart.

This is but one illustration of the truth, that boys who do not love
home usually make shipwreck of their characters. Probably Sam Drake
would have laughed at Nat, or any other boy, for being homesick, and
said,

"I should like to see _myself_ tied to mother's apron strings. It will
do for babies to cry to see their mothers, but it will not do for men.
Suppose it _is_ home, there are other places in creation besides home.
I'd have folks know that there's one feller who can go away from home,
and stay too."

A great many men who are now in prison, or dishonored graves, talked
exactly so when they were young. They thought it was manly to have their
own way, and show that they cared little for home.

Nat's love of home, then, was a good omen. It was not a discredit to him
to long to get back again to his father and mother. It was the evidence
of an obedient, affectionate, amiable son.

After the conversation between the agent and Nat's father, the latter
went home to consult his wife upon the subject. He related to her the
substance of his conversation with the agent, and waited her reply.

"I hardly know what to say," said she. "Nat is only twelve years old,
and needs all the schooling he can get. His teachers have said so much