Wreaths of Friendship | Page 5

of that. I can stop talking, if I try."
"So you can, and you can do more. You can get into the habit of
finding 'the south or sunny side of things,' as Jean Paul says, and if you
do, you will not be likely to have a snow-storm in your heart very often.
Besides, you ought to remember, that all these disappointments and
crosses are a part of your education for heaven, and you should
endeavor to improve them as such, so that their good effect will not be
lost. And another thing, my child: you ought to ask God to assist you in
this self-government--to make you his child--to give you a new
heart--to teach you to love Christ, and to be like him. Then you will
seldom feel cross and fretful, because things go wrong. You will be
cheerful and good-natured. You will make others happy--and you will
very soon forget the old story, that nobody loves you."

Now, many little boys and girls--possibly some who read this
story--would have thought this task too hard. They would have
regarded it as a pretty severe penance. Perhaps they would have
concluded, after having put all these difficult things into one scale, and
the thing to be gained by them into the other, that the reward was not
worth so great a sacrifice. So thought not Angeline, however. She
began the work in earnest, that very day. She went over to her uncle's,
with an unusual amount of sunshine in her countenance, and made it all
right with Jeannette. In the evening, she told her little brother James
what she intended to do, and invited him to help her; and before they
retired to rest that night, they knelt down together and offered up a
prayer, that God, for Christ's sake, would help them in governing
themselves.
One day--perhaps some six weeks after this--Mrs Standish said,
smilingly, to her daughter,
"Well, my dear, does Lucy Wallace love you any better?"
"Oh, mother," said Angeline, as a tear of joy stood in her eye, "every
body loves me now!"

A NOBLE ACT.
"What have you there, boys?" asked Captain Bland.
"A ship," replied one of the lads who were passing the captain's neat
cottage.
"A ship! Let me see;" and the captain took the little vessel, and
examined it with as much fondness as a child does a pretty toy. "Very
fair, indeed; who made it?"
"I did," replied one of the boys.
"You, indeed! Do you mean to be a sailor, Harry?"

"I don't know. I want father to get me into the navy."
"As a midshipman?"
"Yes, sir."
Captain Bland shook his head.
"Better be a farmer, a physician, or a merchant."
"Why so, captain?" asked Harry;
"All these are engaged in the doing of things directly useful to society."
"But I am sure, captain, that those who defend us against our enemies,
and protect all who are engaged in commerce from wicked pirates, are
doing what is useful to society."
"Their use, my lad," replied Captain Bland, "is certainly a most
important one; but we may call it rather negative than positive. The
civilian is engaged in building up and sustaining society in doing good,
through his active employment, to his fellow-man. But military and
naval officers do not produce any thing; they only protect and defend."
"But if they did not protect and defend, captain, evil men would destroy
society. It would be of no use for the civilian to endeavor to build up, if
there were none to fight against the enemies of the state."
"Very true, my lad. The brave defender of his country cannot be
dispensed with, and we give him all honor. Still, the use of defence and
protection is not so high as the use of building up and sustaining. The
thorn that wounds the hand stretched forth to pluck the flower, is not so
much esteemed, nor of so much worth, as the blossom it was meant to
guard. Still, the thorn performs a great use. Precisely a similar use does
the soldier or naval officer perform to society; and it will be for you,
my lad, to decide as to which position you would rather fill."
"I never thought of that, captain," said one of the lads. "But I can see
clearly how it is. And yet I think those men who risk their lives for us

in war, deserve great honor. They leave their homes, and remain away,
sometimes for years, deprived of all the comforts and blessings that
civilians enjoy, suffering frequently great hardships, and risking their
lives to defend their country from her enemies."
"It is all as you say," replied Captain Bland; "and they do, indeed,
deserve great honor. Their calling is one that exposes them to