HOW TO SPEND A DAY.

CHAPTER 1.

THE day never broke more beautifully than on the seventeenth of April. It was one of those bright, delicious mornings which occasionally take us by surprise in the early months, the more delightful, because they stand out from the harsh and grating season like the beautiful flowers of the cactus from their unsightly trunk. I think there was not a cloud in the whole sky; and as the light cautiously stole up from the eastern horizon like the gentlest pencilings of the northern aurora, it presently spread into a wide soft blush which might remind the reader of Pope's Homer's' rosy-fingered morn.' The air was silent and motionless as if it were watching that fair phenomenon in the east; and as yet but one or two birds had opened their sweet throats to salute it. One of these, a melodious little sparrow, was seated on the branch of a tree within a few feet of David Ellington's window; so that the hearty young mechanic, who slept while he slept but knew when to be awake,—somewhat by the rule that his father taught him when a boy, "work while you work, and play while you play," was broad awake by the time the bird

had got half through the first strain of his melody. He
turned his sun-burnt face to the window, and opened his
large eye to the light; and I think the night-angels that
had watched by him must have delayed to depart from
their post, while they gazed for a time on the glowing smile
which passed over his manly countenance. "Beautiful,"
said he,
"beautiful! it looks like the very smile of God,
and that bird expresses it in his song as perfectly as if he
could speak.

"Thine is the music, Father! thine

The morning minstrel's song divine.

Dead is the sense, and dull the ear,

That cannot perceive thee everywhere."

This said, he looked for a moment on the objects of his love that were sleeping by his side, and then stole gently from his bed, dressed himself, took his bible from the table, and read; closed it, and after a little pause, knelt in prayer. It was not long, but it was hearty; not words, so much as a wakeful gratitude and a quick thought of dependence and love. It was the morning salutation of a confiding child to his parent; and not the bird that continued whistling by his window was freer from constraint, or uttered itself from a heartier impulse. And no other sound broke in upon the silence. He left his wife and children to a little longer refreshment on their pil lows, past quietly out of the chamber, not down stairs, for the house was of one story only, took his box of tools and his hat, and went out to his day's work.

It was at more than a quarter of a mile distant that the unfinished house stood, at which he was to work during the day as a journeyman carpenter. He was there before

the sun, and before his employer; and as he returned to his breakfast, he found his neighbor in the next house just opening his door, and setting his mouth almost as wide as he yawned and stretched himself on the threshold.

"Well done, Ellington," said he, stepping down to the fence to greet him as he passed; so here you are slaving yourself to death at this time of day; what's the use of turning life into a mere drudgery? You'll wear yourself to death."

It was not the first time that John Smith had showed this neighborly anxiety on account of Ellington's unseas onable industry. Indeed it was too great a contrast with his own habits, and was leading to too serious a contrast in their conditions, not to make it a matter of grave importance to him. In order to keep down some uncomfortable feelings of shame and self-reproach, he found himself obliged to exaggerate the ill tendency of his neighbor's habits; thus, like greater men, carrying the war into the enemy's country in order to be saved the trouble of a hopeless defence at home. Smith was not a bad man; but he was irresolute and shiftless, and he had no strength of principle to give vigor to his occasional wishes that he could do better. A very common case.

Why," replied Ellington, "it's very healthy being up early, and I suspect that I enjoy myself quite as well as you do."

Nobody can enjoy himself till after breakfast. It takes forever to get waked up, and one is always out of sorts till he has warmed himself with his coffee,"

"Or his bitters?" said Ellington, smiling.

"No-you know I have not touched them this twelve month."

"Yes, thank God, I know it. But then you used to think you were not half a man till you had your glass; you have found that was not true, and perhaps you would find the same true with the coffee."

"Give up coffee! not I."

"No reason that you should; but I mean, you may find out, if you try, that it is not the only thing to make a man of you. An hour's brisk occupation would be a better tonic. You would be in better tune with yourself, in better tune for your breakfast, and for your family, and for your prayers."

David did not give this last hint without deliberation. He was on such terms with his neighbor as to warrant the freedom, and indeed the matter to which it pointed had been the subject of conversation with them before. Smith perfectly understood him; but not choosing to reply, merely said, "I shall not work myself to death for any body."

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Why, do you really think I am pining away, John?" said David, with a meaning smile, and looking at his stout hand as he stretched it out. Smith could not help smilhis own puny limbs was a "Well," said he, "it may

ing too, for the contrast with little too violent for gravity. do for stout fellows like you, but you know that I could not bear it; it would kill me in a month. Ah, David, if I only had your constitution!"

"It is a blessing to be thankful for, certainly, and I hope I am devoutly sensible of it. But it is not for the sake of the work, that I am speaking; - you very well know that I do not work more hours than others, nor so many as some."

"Yes, and that s what puzzles me; what in the world

should possess you to get up every day before light, as if your life depended on it, when you could do all you do just as well, and have a comfortable morning snoose too." Why, there's no mystery about it, John. I want the leisure, that's all. I want to take life quietly, and not be driven. I want to do something besides work. I do not think that a man was created for nothing in this world but to plane boards and drive nails, and then go home and sleep. He could do that if he was made of cast iron and oak plank. But being what he is, a thinking creature, capable of knowing something, and having a soul to live on after all the iron is rusted and the oak rotted, he ought to be learning something else and doing something more. Therefore I want time to improve my mind; I am not content to be ignorant; I want to know more of this wonderful world, and the wonderful truth it is full of. I feel that I shall be the happier for it; and not only so, but shall the better serve Him who placed me here and sent his son to save me. I cannot be willing to live and die a mere axe-handle and turning-lathe; I want to be a MAN. I cannot bear to spend a whole life in doing nothing but earn money to pay for my potatoes and cotton; I want to earn something which will last me when I have done wanting food or clothing. That is the reason why I try to arrange my time so as to get leisure."

"You are ambitious," said Smith, willing to give a turn to the subject which might prevent its pressing on himself; "I thought you were more contented with your lot."

"Ambitious! contented!" said David, with a slight emotion, and speaking low and deliberately, as if not knowing exactly how to understand his neighbor's remark; "yes, I am contented; not a man in the cou..'