nequalities; not from
any monotony, even though it be the monotony of seeming perfection. The
beauty of the landscape depends upon contrasts, and would be lost in
one common surface of splendor. The grandeur of the waves is in the deep
hollows, as well as the culminating crests; and the bars of the sunset
glow on the background of the twilight. The very condition of a great
thing is that it must be comparatively a rare thing. We speak of summer
glories, and yet who would wish it to be always summer?--who does not
see how admirably the varied seasons are fitted to our appetite for
change? It may seem as if it would be pleasant to have it always
sunshine; and yet when fruit and plant are dying from lack of moisture,
and the earth sleeps exhausted in the torrid air, who ever saw a summer
morning more beautiful than that when the clouds muster their legions to
the sound of the thunder, and pour upon us the blessing of the rain?
We repine at toil, and yet how gladly do we turn in from the lapse of
recreation to the harness of effort! We sigh for the freedom and glory
of the country; but, in due time, just as fresh and beautiful seem to
us the brick walls and the busy streets where our lot is cast, and
our interests run. There is no condition in life of which we can say
exclusively "It is good for us to be here." Our course is appointed
through vicissitude,--our discipline is in alternations; and we can
build no abiding tabernacles along the way.

But, I observe, in the second place, that there are those who may
discard the notion of retaining any particular condition of life and yet
they would preserve unbroken some of its relations. They may not keep
the freshness of youth, or prevent the intrusion of trouble, or shut out
the claims of responsibility, or the demands for effort;--they may not
achieve anything of this kind; and they do not wish to achieve it; but
they would build a tabernacle to LOVE, and keep the objects of dear
affection safe within its enclosure. "Joy, sorrow, poverty, riches,
youth, decay, let these come as they must," say they, "in the flow of
Providence; but let the heart's sanctuaries remain unbroken, and let us
in all this chance find the presence and the ministration of those we
love." And, common as the sight is, we must always contemplate with a
fresh sadness this sundering of family bonds; this cancelling(sic) of
the dear realities of home; this stealing in of the inevitable gloom;
this vacating o