sunshine of youth, let it shine on! Let love flow out fresh and full, unchecked by any rule but what love creates, and pour itself down without stint into the young heart. Make the days of boyhood happy, for other days of labor and sorrow must come, when the blessing of those dear eyes and clasping hands and sweet caresses will, next to the love of God from whence they flow, save the man from losing faith in the human heart, help to deliver him from the curse of selfishness, and be an Eden in the evening when he is driven forth into the wilderness of life." Another writes: "The richest heritage that parents can give is a happy childhood, with tender memories of father and mother. This will brighten the coming days when the children have gone out from the sheltering home, it will be a safeguard in times of temptation and a conscious help amid the stern realities of life."

Boys on the Streets.

Don't turn your boys out to spend the night -you don't know where. There are thousands of parents in this city who think that their boys never drink, but there is not a gilded saloon with which the boys are not familiar. There are many young men who, when they return to their fathers' houses, are supposed to

have been visiting respectable friends of the family. This is a mere guise. They would not dare to tell the truth as to where and with whom they had been. Don't allow your boy to go at night to see the sights or to find pleasure in the amusements of the city unless you go with him, until he is grown to man's estate and his habits are formed.

There are many things of which ignorance is bliss and wisdom folly-things which a man cannot learn without being damaged all his life. "As an eel, if he were to wriggle across your carpet, would leave a slime which no brush can take off, so there are many things which no person can know and ever recover from the knowledge of."

The Friend of Liberty and Pleasure.

I am known, and want to be known, as the friend of liberty and pleasure. I rebuke those who would turn that young and joyous creature into the stiff and silent statue, the monklike figure, or the unsmiling devotee. It is a cold, cheerless, heartless asceticism and not Christianity that cannot see the boy's sparkling eye, his sunlit countenance, hear his elastic step, the merry note of his laughter, and the music of his cheerful voice. I believe in fun. There is fun, innocent fun, and you

don't have to go in the paths of sin to find it. I appreciate hilarity, good jokes, and fun. Hear it, boys! There is glorious fun in this world, and on the side of right, in the path of virtue. Getting up in the morning with a splitting headache, disordered liver, and shattered nerves, turned out of employment, cast down in spirits, character wrecked, father disgraced, mother's heart broken. Alas for that kind of fun! O my soul, stand back from such fun! If you want to make your boy's destruction sure, give him unwatched liberty after dark.

Henry Ward Beecher writes: "I do not believe in bringing up the young to know life, as it is said. I should just as soon think of bringing up a child by cutting some of the cords of his body and lacerating his nerves, and scarring and tattooing him, and making an Indian out of him outright as an element of beauty, as I should think of developing his manhood by bringing him up to see life-to see its abominable lusts, to see its hideous incarnations of wit, to see its infernal wickedness, to see its extravagant and degrading scenes, to see its miserable carnalities, to see its imaginations set on fire of hell, to see all those temptations and delusions which lead to perdition. Nobody gets over the sight of these

things. They who see them always carry scars. They are burned. The scar remains. And to let the young go out where evil appears, where the frequenters of dens of iniquity can come within their reach, to let them go where the young gather together to cheer with bad wit, to let them go where they will be exposed to such temptations—why, a parent is insane that will do it. To say, 'A child must be hardened; he has got to get tough somehow, and you may as well put him in the vat and let him tan-is that family education? Is that Christian nurture? Is that bringing a child up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord?"

XI.

A SUMMER DAY IN WATER STREET.

IN company with a trusty friend, one of earth's greatest blessings, I visited Water Street when the thermometer registered ninety degrees in the shade. I started early that I might gain some knowledge of the "free-ice" stations.

What blessings this charity brings to these dark places of abject poverty! To stand for an hour at any one of these stations and watch the creatures who creep there to receive the blessing of fifteen pounds of ice, to behold the eagerness with which they make approach, the anxiety with which they push forward, the glistening gladness in their eyes as they bear off the trophy, is only to comprehend in a small measure the good done by this practical philanthropy.

Here they come and crowd, men, women and children, of all kindreds and tongues, the dwarf, scurvy and scrub of humanity. Sometimes the crowd is so dense that angry com