was developed by age, and by health of body and of mind, I should learn as easily as others the little Greek and Latin, and figures, of which is composed that empty modicum of letters, which is called an education. What she wished was to make me a happy child, with a healthy mind, and a loving soul; a creature of God, and not a puppet of men. She had drawn her ideas upon education, at first from her own heart, and then from the works of J. J. Rousseau and Bernardin St. Pierre, those two favorite philosophers of women, because they are the philosophers of feeling. She had become acquainted with, or caught a glimpse of, both of them, in her childhood, at her mother's house. She had subsequently read them and admired them. She had heard, while still very young, their systems debated a thousand times, by Madame de Genlis, and by the skillful persons who were charged with the education of the children of the Duke of Orleans. It is generally known that this prince was the first who ventured to apply the theories of these natural philosophers to the education of his sons. My mother, brought up along with them, and almost in the same manner as they, naturally transferred these traditions of her childhood to her own children. She did so, however, carefully and with discernment. She did not confound what is suitable to be taught to princes, placed by their birth and their wealth at the summit of the social scale, with that which is suitable to be taught to the children of a poor and obscure family, placed close to the scenes of nature, in the modest condition of labor and simplicity. But what she thought was that in all conditions of life, it is necessary first to make a man, and when the man is made - that is to say, a being intelligent, sensible, and placed in just relations to himself, to other men, and to God it matters little whether he be prince or a workman, he is that which he ought to be. What he is, is good, and his mother's work is accomplished. * By permission of Harper & Brothers. MY MOTHER * BY JOSEPH PARKER And the sweet mother! So quiet, so patient, so full of hope. Seeing everything without looking, praying much, and teaching her son to pray. My wont was to sit near her with paper and pencil in hand, and to beg her to make one line of a hymn that I might try to add three lines to it. No excitement known to boys was equal to that high joy. One verse struck awe into the minds of my neighbors, and made them look at me with pride touched with reverence. That verse was shown to the minister, and he, in excess of pastoral zeal, made rash predictions concerning the rhymester. The father said nothing, but ordered it to be kept and shown to every visitor, and every visitor rose or fell in his estimation according to the view taken of that particular verse. All the neighbors heard it and one said it ought to be put in a hymn-book; another was worldly enough to "bet" that some day I would make a whole hymn; others were struck dumb with amazement, only hinting that they who lived longest would see most. Sweet mother! A sort of superstitious woman withal, and not indisposed to believe in ghosts. She was never quite comfortable without a twig of rowan tree in the house, and could never comfortably begin anything new on a Friday. How glad too, the dear soul was when she had a good "first-foot" on New Year's morning, for that "foot" mysteriously hinted at the character and fortune of the whole year. When she and I were in special perplexity she would take a Bible, pray briefly, open it, and according to the passage which was next her right-hand thumb, she would interpret the will of Heaven. This, she said, was the habit of the good John Wesley, and what Wesley did was right. I cannot despise those traits of character, for they point to something deeper than themselves, and in my mother's case they pointed to a character of extraordinary depth and religiousness. * By permission of Funk & Wagnalls, from "My Life and Teaching." CORNELIA AND HER JEWELS BY E. M. SEWALL Tiberius and Caius Gracchus were the grandsons of the first Scipio Africanus, the rival of Hannibal. Their mother, Cornelia, was his daughter. She was a very remarkable person, good and clever, as well as beautiful and elegant. Her daughter Semphronia married Scipio Emilianus. Cornelia took great pains to educate her children well, and as they grew up she became very proud of them. A lady one day came to pay her a visit, who was dressed very splendidly, and wore a great many jewels. Whilst they were talking together, she begged Cornelia to show her some of her ornaments. Cornelia sent for her sons, and when they appeared, she said, "These are my jewels, and their virtues are my ornaments." She had indeed much cause for satisfaction. Her sons were honorable, kind-hearted, handsome, and engaging. Their father had been famous for his uprightness and benevolence, and they were like him, especially Tiberius, the elder, who always took the part of oppressed persons, and was particularly desirous that the Romans should be less luxurious, and more strict in their manners and customs. His mother, we are told, thought so much of his talents and power, that she persuaded him to offer himself as a tribune of the people. "I am commonly called," she said, "by way of honor, the mother-in-law of the second Africanus. Why do they not call me the mother of the Gracchi?" She lived to have her wish fulfilled, but it brought her sorrow and desolation for the remainder of her days. THE MOTHER OF THE GRACCHI FROM PLUTARCH'S LIVES Tiberius Gracchus, the grandson of Publius Sempronius and the father of Tiberius and Caius Grac chus; who, though he was once honored with the censorship, twice with the consulate, and led up two triumphs, yet derived still greater dignity from his virtues. Hence after the death of that Scipio who conquered Hannibal, he was thought worthy to marry Cornelia, the daughter of that great man. Cicero, in his first book de Divinatione, passes the highest encomiums on his virtue and wisdom and relates this story:It is said that he once caught a pair of serpents upon his bed, and that the soothsayers, after they had considered the prodigy, advised him neither to kill them both, nor let them both go. If he killed the male serpent, they told him his death would be the consequence; if the female, that of Cornelia. Tiberius who loved his wife, and thought it more suitable for him to die first, who was much older than his wife, killed the male, and set the female at liberty. Not long after this, he died, leaving Cornelia with no fewer than twelve children. The care of the house and the children now entirely devolved on Cornelia; and she behaved with such sobriety, so much parental affection and greatness of mind, that Tiberius seems not to have judged ill, in choosing to die for so valuable a woman. For though Ptolemy, king of Egypt, paid his addresses to her, and offered her a share in his throne, she refused him. During her widowhood, she lost all her children except three, one daughter, who was married to Scipio the younger, and two sons Tiberius and Caius. Cornelia brought them up with so much care, that though they were without dispute of the noblest family, and |