THE BATTALION.
sion that requires sacrifice and toil,
have indeed a splendid form of courage.
Young manhood has peculiar tempta
tions, and history presents to us men,
whose moral courage in resisting them
have made themselves the equals of
Washington, Lee and Grant.
There is also a courage of conviction
found in the man who is brave enough
to think what he ought to think. There
are great mental battles, and some of
our finest victories have been won by
those men who have fought their way
through doubt and darkness to convic
tion and light.
The world is held back by men who
are afraid to think. Thought is the
creator of civilization and progress. It
is the emancipator that frees men from
all superstition and tyranny. Every
true thought leads towards God-
Thought will never damage anything
that ought not to disappear. It will
strengthen all that is worthy and good.
It will not injure the vital elements of
established truth; although it may send
some arrogant theories into oblivion
whither all error must ultimately go.
The only danger is that men have not
the courage to think deeply enough.
The courage that does what ought to
be done, that leads a pmn to become
what he ought to be, and to think what
he ought to think, is of the highest
order. The courage of manly action,
character and thought, stands above
brute force and exalted passion. Cour
age is essential in all true life. All pro
gress is conquest, a series ot battles and
victories. Advance is won by effort
only. The true life must be fearless
and tireless, and amidst the temptations,
trials, sorrows and conflicts in life, heed
—hear the divine message that came to
David in the days of his troubles. “Be
of good cou.age.” A. M. H.
R jVIothep’s Liove.
If there is one mortal feeling free from
the impurities of earthly frailty that
tells us in its slightest breathings of its
celestial origin, it is that of a mother’s
love, a mother’s chaste, overwhelming
and everlasting love of her children.
The name of a mother is our child
hood’s talsiman, our refuge and safe
guard in all our mimic misery ; ’tis the
first half-formed word that falls from a
babbling tongue; the first idea that
draws upon the mind ; the first, the
the fondest and most lasting tie in which
affection can bind the heart of man. It
is not a feeling of yesterday or to-day ;
it is from the beginning the same and
unchangeable : it owes its being to this
world, but it is independent and self ex
istent, enduring while one pulse of life
animates the breast that fosters it ; and
if there be anything of morality which
survives the grave, surely its best and
noble passion will never perish.
’Tis not selfish passion depending for
its permanency on the reciprocation of
its advantages ; but in its sincerity it
casteth out itself and when the welfare
of that object is at stake, it putteth away
fear and knoweth not weariness.
It is not excited by form nor feature,
but rather by a happy pervision of per
ception, imbues all things with an im
aginary beauty. It watches over our
helpless infancy with the ceaseless bs-
nignty of a guardian angel, anticipates
every childish want, humors every
childish fancy, soothes every transient