are completely entangled. "I am just going to do this or that good work," sounds so much like "I am really doing it," that the conscience is satisfied for the moment; yet how vast is the difference between these two expressions when habit has fixed them upon the character! To the same class of persons who habitually say, "I am going," rather than "I am doing," belong those who seldom know what they really are about; who, coming into a room for a particular purpose, and finding a book there by chance, open it, and sit down to read for half an hour, or an hour, believing all the while that they are going to do the thing they first intended; or who, setting out to walk for the benefit of their health, drop in upon a pleasant acquaintance by the way, still thinking they are going to walk, until the time for doing so has expired, when they return home, with cold feet and aching heads, half fancying that they have really walked, and disappointed that exercise has produced no better effect. Now, in these two cases, there may be as little harm in reading the book as in calling upon the acquaintance, and nothing wrong in either but the habit of doing habitually what we had not intended to do, and leaving undone what we had intended, has so injurious an effect in weakening our resolutions, and impairing our capacity for making exact calculations upon time and means, that one might pronounce, without much hesitation, upon a person accustomed to this mode of action, the sentence of utter inability to fill any situation of usefulness or importance among mankind. I am inclined to think we should all be sufficiently astonished, if we would try, the experiment through a single day, of passing quickly and promptly from one occupation to another. It is, in fact, these "goings to do," which constitute so large an amount of wasted time, for which we are all accountable. Few persons deliberately intend to be idle; few will allow that they have been so from choice; yet how vast a proportion of the human race are living in a state of self-de ception, by persuading themselves they are not idle, when they are merely going to act Promptness in doing whatever it is right to do now, is one of the great secrets of living. By this means, we find our capabilities increased to an amazing amount; nor can we ever know what they really are, until this plan of conduct has been fully tried. Wisely has it been said, by the greatest of moral philosophers, that there is a time for every thing. Let it be observed, however, that he has not, among his royal maxims, spoken of a time for doing nothing; and it is fearful to think how large a portion of the season of youth is spent in this manner. Nor is it absolute idleness alone which claims our attention. The idleness of selfdelusion has already been described. But there is, besides this, a busy idleness, which operates with equal force against the right economy of time. Busy idleness arises chiefly from a restlessness of feeling, which, without any calculation as to the fitness of time or place, or the ultimate utility of what is done, hurries its possessor into a succession of tri fling or ill-timed occupations, frequently as annoying to others as they are unproductive of any beneficial result. Busy idleness is also a disease most difficult to cure, because it satisfies for the moment that thirst for occupation with which every human being is more or less affected, and which has been implanted in our nature for the wisest of purposes. It is under the influence of this propensity to busy idleness, that, with multitudes who have no extraordinary capability for receiving pleasure, amusement is made to supply the place of occupation, and childish trifling that of intellectual pursuit. It may be asked, how does the law of love operate here? I answer, precisely in this way-We are never so capable of being useful to others, as when we have learned to economize our own time; to make exact calculations as to what we are able, or not able, to do in any given period; and so to employ ourselves as to make the trifles of the moment give place to more important avocations. Without having cultivated such habits, our intentions, nay, our promises, must often fall short of what we actually perform; so that in time, and after many painful disappointments, our friends will cease to depend upon our aid, believing, what may all the while be unjust to our feelings, that we have never entertained any earnest desire to promote their interest. Above all other subjects, however, connected with the consideration of time, the law of love bears most directly upon that of punctuality. No one can fail in this point, without committing an act of injury to another. If the portion of time allotted to us in this life be aptly compared to a valuable estate, of which an enemy robs us by taking away a certain portion every day; surely it is a hard case that a friend must usurp the same power, and take away another portion, contrary to our expectations, and without any previous stipulation that it should be so. Yet, of how much of this precious property do we deprive our friends during the course of a lifetime, by our want of punctuality? and not our friends only, but all those who are in any way connected with, or dependent upon us. Our friends, indeed, might possibly forgive us the injury for the love they bear us; but there are the poor-the hardworking poor, whose time is often their wealth; and strangers, who owe us no kindness, and who consequently are not able to endure this injury without feelings of irritation or resentment. all the couriers along the road are delayed in the same proportion, and there is the loss of half an hour occasioned, not only to each of them, but to all who have depended upon their arrival at a certain time. It is true, that few of us are placed in the same relative position as this man, with regard to our fellow-creatures; yet, none of us act alone; and the mistress of a house, who detains a poor workman half an hour by her want of punctuality, may be the means of his receiving reproof, nay, even abuse, from others who have lost their time in consequence of his delay; while others still, and others yet beyond, through the wider range of a more extensive circle, may have been calculating their time and means in dependence upon the punctuality of this poor man. If on particular occasions which recur every day, we find we are generally half an hour too late, the evil to others is sometimes easily remedied by making our appointment half an hour later, and abiding by it. But such is not the plan of those who are habitually negligent of punctuality. They go on, varying from their time, one day perhaps an hour, another a quarter of an hour, and occasionally perhaps being before it, until the whole machinery of intercourse with their fellow-creatures is deranged--those of their dependents who are inclined to indolence taking advantage of their delay; those who are impatient, fretting themselves into angry passions at this wanton waste of their preThe evil, too, is one which extends in its cious time; and many whose connection consequences, and widens in its influence, be- might perhaps have been highly valuable, yond all calculation. Yet, for the sake of leaving them altogether, in consequence of conveying to the youthful and inexperienced being wearied or disgusted with the uncerreader, some idea of its mode of operation, tainty which attended all their proceedings. we will suppose the case of a man carrying It is not, therefore, our own time only that letters or despatches along one of our public is wasted by our want of punctuality, but roads, and so calculating his time as to ap-hours, and days, and months, and years of point to be met at some post on the road the precious property of others, over which every hour, by this means to transmit his we had no right, and which was not intendespatches by other couriers along branch- tionally submitted to our thoughtless expenroads to distant parts of the country. The diture. person whose business it is to place these despatches in his hand at a certain time and place, is half an hour too late; consequently, It is often alleged by young persons as being of no use for them to be punctual, when others are not so, and that they only waste their own time by being ready at the appointed moment. All this may be too true; for parents and seniors in a family often have themselves to blame for the want of punctuality in the junior members. Yet is it of no importance, whether we are the causes or the subjects of injury-whether we practise injustice towards others, or only endure it ourselves? Surely no generous mind can hesitate a moment which alternative to choose, especially when such choice refers not to any single act, but to a course of conduct pursued through a whole lifetime. Of what material consequence will it appear to us on the bed of death, that certain individuals, at different times of our lives, have kept us waiting for a few hours, which might certainly have been better employed? But it will be of immense importance at the close of life, if, by our habitual want of punctuality, we have been the cause of an enormous waste of time, the property of countless individuals, to whom we can make no repayment for any single act of such unlicensed robbery. It is the principle of integrity, then, upon which our punctuality must be founded, and the law of love will render it habitual. nation never to yield to the dangerous habit of being a little too late. In this case it is not so much the absolute waste of time, as the waste of feeling, which is to be regretted; for no one can be habitually ever so little too late, without experiencing at times a degree of hurry and distraction of mind, most destructive of domestic comfort and individual peace. To be a few minutes too early, may appear to many as inconsistent with the order of the present day, when every thing is pushed to extremity, and it may consequently be considered as a useless waste of time; yet I am inclined to think that the moments in which we can say, "I am ready," are among some of the most precious of our lives, as affording us opportunity for that calm survey of human affairs, without which we should pass in a state of comparative blindness along the thickly-peopled walks of life. To be ready a little before the time, is like pausing for a moment to see the great machine of human events at work, to mark the action and the play of every part, and to observe the vast amount of feeling which depends upon every turn of the mighty wheel of time. Who that has stood still, and watched the expression of the human countenance during the last struggles of a too late preparation for pleasure, for business, or for trial, has not, in a single moment, read more plain truths on that unguarded page than years of its ordinary expression would have unfolded? Besides this, however, the great advantage we derive from being habitually too early, is the power it gives us to husband our forces, to make our calculations upon coming events, to see how to improve upon yesterday, and to resolve to do so; but, above all other means of strengthening our better resolutions, it affords us time for those mental appeals for Divine blessing and support, without which we have no right to expect either safety, assistance, or success. Fortified in this manner, it is less likely that any unexpected event should unsettle the balance of our minds, because we go forth with calmness, As there are few persons who deliberately intend to be idle; so there are perhaps still fewer who deliberately intend to waste their own time, or that of their friends. It is the lapse of years, the growth of experience, and the establishment of character on some particular basis, which tell the humiliating truth, that time has been culpably and lamentably wasted. There are other delusions, however, besides those already specified, under which this fruitless expenditure is unconsciously carried on; and none is perhaps, as a whole, more destructive to usefulness, or more fatal to domestic peace, than the habit of being always a little too late-too late to come-too late to go-too late to meet at the place of appointment-too late to be useful too late to do good-too late to repent and seek forgiveness while the gates of mercy are unclosed. All these may be the consequences of setting out in life, without a firm determi- | prepared either to enjoy with moderation and thankfulness, or to suffer with patience and angry, and sharp words pass between him resignation. Young persons are often beguiled into the dangerous habit of being a little too late, by the apparent unimportance of each particular transgression of the kind during the season of youth. If, for instance, they are a little too late for breakfast, the matron of the family commences operations without them, and they can easily gain time upon some of the senior members. At the dinner-hour it is the same. They have only to calculate upon a few impatient words, and a few angry looks; and it is not the least unfavorable feature of their case, that to such looks and words they become so accustomed as scarcely to heed them, nor is it often that they bring any more serious consequences upon themselves by their delay, because the young are generally so kindly assisted and cared for by their friends, that by a long, and patient, and oftenrepeated process of helping, urging, and entreating, they are, for the most part, got ready for every important occasion, or, in other words, are seldom left behind. It is in more advanced life that the evil begins to tell upon the happiness of all around them; and let it never be forgotten, that the more exalted their situation, the wider their sphere of influence, the more extensive are the evils resulting from any wrong line of conduct they may choose to pursue. The season of early youth is, therefore, the best time for correcting this tendency, before it has begun to bear with any serious effects upon the good or the happiness of others. We will suppose the case of a mistress of a family preparing for a journey. Having been a little too late with every thing which had to be done, there is a frightful accumulation of demands upon her attention during the last day, but especially the last half-hour before her departure. In this state of hurry and confusion wrong orders are given, which have to be counteracted; messengers are sent hither and thither, they scarcely know for what, and still less where to find the thing they seek. Servants grow disorderly, children teasing or frightened, the husband is and his wife. Accidents, of course, occur, for which the innocent are blamed. Timepitiless time rolls on, apparently with accelerating speed. The distant sound of carriagewheels is heard. At this crisis a string breaks. Why did it never break before? A flash of absolute passion distorts the face of the matron. All dignity is lost. The carriage is at the door-little children stretch forth their arms there is no time for tenderness. Scarcely a farewell is heard, as the mother rushes past them, leaving behind her, perhaps for months of absence, the remembrance of her angry countenance, her unjust reproaches, and the apparent want of affection with which she could hurry away from the very beings she loved best in the world. The servants in such a family as this, can scarcely be blamed if they rejoice when their mistress is gone; the husband, if he finds abundant consolation in the peace his absent partner has bequeathed him; or the children, if they fail to look with any very eager expectation to the time of their mother's return. How, then, does the law of love operate here? It operates upon the woman who is seldom too late, so that when a journey is in expectation, all things are arranged in due time, leaving the last day more especially for attention to the claims of affection, and the regulation of household affairs, upon which will depend the comfort of her family during her absence. Rising a little earlier than usual on that morning, she commends them individually and collectively to the care of the Father of all the families of earth; and this very act gives a depth, a tenderness, and a serenity to the feelings of affection with which she meets them, it may be for the last time. Kind words are then spoken, which dwell upon the memory in after years; provision is made for the feeble or the helpless; every little peculiarity of character or constitution is taken into account; last charges-those precious memorials of earthly love—are given, and treasured up. There is time even for private and confidential intercourse between the husband and the wife; there is time for CHAPTER III. CLEVERNESS-LEARNING-KNOWLEDGE. a respectful farewell to every domestic; there is time, too, for an expression of thankfulness for each one of the many kind offices rendered on that sacred day. At last the moment of separation arrives. Silent tears are seen in every eye, but they are not absolutely tears of sorrow; for who can feel sorrow, when the cup of human love is so full of sweet-knowledge. By cleverness, I would be unness? If, during the absence of such a mother, sickness or death should assail any member of her family, how will the remembrance of that day of separation soothe the absent; while the kind words then uttered, the kind thoughts then felt, the kind services then rendered, will recur to remembrance, invested with a power and a beauty, which never would have been fully known, had no such separation taken place. It is possible the natural affection of the wife and the mother, in both these cases, may have been the same; yet, how different must be the state of their own feelings, and of those of their separate families, one hour after their departure! and not during that hour only, but during weeks and months, nay, through the whole of their lives! for the specimen we have given, is but one among the many painful scenes which must perpetually occur in the experience of those who are habitually too late. It is true, I have extended the picture a little beyond the season of early youth, but this was absolutely necessary in order to point out the bearing and ultimate tendency of this dangerous habit-a habit, like many of our wrong propensities, so insidious in its nature, as scarcely to tell upon the youthful character; while, like many other plants of evil growth, its seed is sown at that period of life, though we scarcely perceive the real nature of the poisonous tree, until its bitter root has struck too deep to be eradicated. It is, therefore, the more important, in all we purpose, and in all we do, that we should look to the end, and not awake, when it is too late, to find that we have miscalculated either our time or our means. In order to speak with more precision of those attainments which youth is the season for acquiring, I must class them under three different heads-cleverness, learning, and stood to mean, dexterity and aptness in doing every thing which falls within the sphere of ordinary duty. Cleverness of the hand, is no mean attainment in a woman. It is, in fact, of almost as much value to her, as dexterity to the surgeon; for though he may have knowledge to understand what is best to be done, unless his hand be skilful to do it, his knowledge will avail him but little in any case of emergency, where the life of a fellowcreature is at stake. The cleverness of the hand, therefore, though almost entirely neglected in modern education, except as relates to practice on the keys of the piano, is a qualification which, while it takes nothing away from the charm of feminine delicacy, imparts the additional charm of perpetual cheerfulness, added to a capability of general usefulness, and a consequent readiness for action whenever occasion may require our services. To know how to do every thing which can properly come within a woman's sphere of duty, ought to be the ambition of every female mind. For my own part, I do not believe I have ever learned any thing, even down to such a trifle as a new stitch, but I have found a use for it, and that in a surprisingly short space of time; for either it has occupied what would otherwise have been idle time, it has used up what would otherwise have been wasted material, or I have taught it to others who were more in need of it than myself. Besides which, there is the grand preventive this dexterity supplies against ever being at a loss what to do; the happiness it affords, both to ourselves and others, to be perpetually employed; the calm it diffuses over a naturally restless temperament; but above all, the ability this habit affords in cases of sickness, or other emergency, to |