MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND EAAIILY NEWSPAPER. 
OAiY ♦ 
A CHILD EMBRACING ITS MOTHER. 
BY THOMAS HOOD. 
Love thy mother, little one 1 
Kiss and clasp her neck again— 
Hereafter she may have a son 
Will kiss and clasp her neck in vain. 
Love thy mother, little one 1 
Gaze upon her living eyes, 
And mirror back her love for thee— 
Hereafter thou may’st shudder sighs 
To meet them when they cannot sec. 
Gaze upon her living eyes! 
Press her lips the while they glow 
With love that they have often told— 
Hereafter thou may’st press, in woe, 
And kiss them until thine own are cold. 
Press her lips the while they glow ! 
Pray for her at eve and morn, 
That Heaven may long the stroke defer, 
For thou may’st live the hour forlorn 
When thou wilt ask to die for her. 
Pray.for her at eve and morn 1 
OLD GEMS RE-SET.—NO. II. 
Mr. Moore: —The flowing verse,—the terse 
anti sounding diction—oi'the poet and philos¬ 
opher, Darwin, renders every subject he touch¬ 
es luminous with beauty and sublimity. His 
harmonious numbers beautifully describe the 
then recent absorbing subject of electricity, and 
Franklin’s discovery of the identity of that 
power with lightning so brilliantly, that no one 
can but admire his lines. 
The recent honors paid to Franklin’s mem¬ 
ory, by the craft, render the following extract 
peculiarly pertinent and timely: 
Nv mphs! your fine hands ethereal Hoods amass 
From the warm cushion and the whirling glass, 
Beard the bright cylinder with golden wire, 
And circumfuse the gravitating fire. 
» * * » 
You bid gold leaves in crystal lantliorns held. 
Approach, attracted, and recede, repelled— 
While paper nymphs instinct with motion rise, 
And dancing fauns the admiring sage surprise; 
Or if on wax, some fearless beauty stand, 
And touch the sparkling rod with graceful hand, 
Through her fine limbs the mimic lightnings dart, 
And liames innoxious eddy round her heart— 
O'er her fair brow the kindling lustres glare. 
Blue rays diverging from her bristling liair. 
* * * * 
You crowd in coated jars the denser tire, 
l’ieree the thin gl.uss and fuse the blazing wire, 
Bart the red llasii throughout the circling band 
Of youth and timorous damsels hand in hand. 
Starts the quick ether through the fibre trains 
Of dancing arteries and the tingling veins— 
Goads each fine nerve, with new sensations thrilled. 
Bends the reluctant limbs with power unwilled. 
st * » * 
You led your Franklin to your glazed retreats, 
Your air-built castles and your silken seals— 
Bade his bold arm invade the lowering sky, 
And seize the tip-toe lightnings ere they' tiy r — 
O’er the young sage your mystic mantle spread. 
And wreath’d tire crown electric round his head. 
The following is a beautiful tribute to his 
science and his patriotism. It was written at 
the close of the Revolutionary war, and is as 
happy and prophetic as it is creditable to the 
author, who was English, but of liberal and 
patriotic feelings: 
Led by the phosphor light, with daring tread. 
Immortal Franklin sought the fiery bed 
Where, nursed in night, incumbent tempest shrouds 
The seeds of thunder in circumfluent clouds, 
Besieged with iron points, his airy cell, 
Aud pierced the mountain in his slumbering shell. 
* * * * 
So borne on sounding pinions to the {Vest, 
Where tyrant power had built his eagle nest. 
While from his eyry shrieked his famished brood, 
Clenched their sharp claws and champed their beaks for 
blood—• 
Immortal Franklin watched the callow crew, 
And stabbed the struggling vampyres ere they flew. 
The patriot flame with quick contagion ran, 
Hill lighted hill, and man electrized man; 
Her heroes slain awhile, Coli’mhia mourned, 
Ar.d, crowned with laurels, Liberty returned. 
If you publish these extracts I shall continue, 
and consider they meet your approbation.— 
The reading and copying serve to while away 
the long, boreal evenings for the writer, and I 
trust their perusal will also for many of your 
readers. B. Manly. 
STEAM-SHIPS OF WAR. 
A writer in the National Intelligencer, in 
an article commenting on the immense sums 
wasted by the government in fruitless attempts 
to get up a steam navy, says: 
“ Misfortunes beget wisdom. We know our 
errors and can avoid their repetition. We al¬ 
so know what is wanted. We want no more 
side-wheel war steamers that a grape shot may 
destroy, each costing a million, to carry six 
guns, and the transportation of a coal mine af¬ 
ter her to keep her going; no more ‘submerged 
propellers,’ nor ‘ bomb-proof’ ships, nor patent 
‘ Lamb & Summer ’ boilers, &o., nor specula¬ 
tive steam men of war of any sort; bat a real 
down-light ship of war, be she a sloop, frigate, 
or a liiie-of-battlo’ship, with a full ship rig, of 
full sail power, backed by the simple full power 
steam engine driving a two-bladed propeller, 
capable of being lifted when out of use and 
stowed as conveniently as a bower anchor, such 
as are now in full and successful operation in 
all the modern war steamers of the British na¬ 
vy. Add to these indispensable requirements 
a fresh water ■ condensing apparatus for daily 
use connected with the cooking galley, on 
which to rely for your supply, and we have the 
war steamer lit for any service. Such is the 
modern screw war steamer of the British na¬ 
vy, as 1 have seen them. The boilers are be¬ 
low the water-line, as well as all the engine, 
except the smoke stack. A single tank of fresh 
water is the whole supply, the necessary quan¬ 
tity being made by the condenser daily, fuel 
and provisions taking the place of water tanks.” 
PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. 
Tiie enunciator of a terse axiom, sometimes 
becomes not only the benefactor of his own 
age, but of all succeeding ages. Wc were for¬ 
cibly struck with this truth, in reading the fol¬ 
lowing from the Philadelphia Ledger, on the 
“ Value of a Proverb.” The proverbs quoted 
are very neally grouped, and the lessons they 
teach worthy of consideration. Those on busi¬ 
ness are capital: 
A proverb is practical, every-day wisdom, 
condensed into its smallest space. VVliat dia¬ 
monds are to other gems, proverbs are to lan¬ 
guage. Like the diamond also, a proverb is 
the slow deposit of ages—it is the common 
sense of the people crystallized by time. 
The English tongue is full of invaluable 
proverbs. No man can realize how thor¬ 
oughly practical our British ancestors were, 
until lie has studied the sayings they had in 
common use, and compared them with those 
of other people. For social conduct, for suc¬ 
cess in life, and for moral culture, our mother 
tongue supplies the best collection of proverbs 
in the world. “Mannersoften make fortunes,” 
says one of these old proverbs, and vainly might 
we seek to express this truism more pithily.— 
“Never fall out with your bread and butter,” 
is as applicable in our day to the fools who are 
above their business, as it was generations ago, 
when the proverb was first started. “ Every 
path hath a puddle,” refutes the discontent of 
those who fancy their own lot worse than that 
of their neighbors, as summarily as it did three 
centuries back. 
In a similar manner, weakness or ignorance 
in the management of business, are aptly hit 
off by some old proverb or proverbs. “ An 
oak is not felled by a blow,” says one, a per¬ 
fect homily, in eight words, on perseverance.— 
“ Much would have more, and lost all,” is 
another; and a capital warning it is against 
excess of greed. “ Never light your candle at 
both ends,” is a third, suggestive of whole vol¬ 
umes against extravagance, and only equaled 
by a fellow proverb, “ no alchemy is equal to 
saving.” Never was the wisdom of foretho’t 
more tersely inculcated than in the saying, 
“ Provide for the worst, the best will take care 
of itself.” Every over sanguine speculator should 
remember the proverb, “ Never quit certainty 
for hope.” Even the despondent can find a 
salve in that, homely old consolation, “Patience 
and time run through the longest day.” What 
man, at the head of a business, has not felt the 
force of the remark, “The eye of the master 
does more work than both his hands.” Even 
Insurance Companies, modern institutions as 
they are, were recommended in advance, if not 
foreshadowed, by the ancient phrase, “ Venture 
not your all in one bottom.” 
So also, in morals, these old proverbs teach 
us all that reformers and preachers, even in 
this enlightened day, profess to impart. Has 
Neal Dow ever spoken as severely, or in so 
few words, against intemperance, as that ven¬ 
erable saying, “ Drunkenness is a pair of spec¬ 
tacles to see the devil and all his works?’’— 
Has pride of birth, or arrogance of fashion, or 
the inflation of wealth, ever been rebuked bet¬ 
ter than in the proverb, “It’s not the gay coat 
makes the gentleman?” Has the spirit of that 
Gospel, which so many profess to honor, yet so 
few really obey, ever been set forth, in scented 
sermons, mote forcibly than in “.Write injuries 
in dust, but kindnesses in marble?” Has the 
harvest to which the profligacy and wasteful¬ 
ness of the young spendthrift leads, ever been 
told as summarily as in five little words, 
“ Reckless youth makes rueful age?” Or has 
avarice ever been more sharply rebuked than 
by the stern warning, “The covetous man is 
his own tormentor?” And we might multiply 
illustrations almost without limit. 
Even in matters relating to domestic affairs, 
these old proverbs a 1*0 full of wisdom. Says 
one, “ A great dowry is a bed full of troubles,” 
a thought which we recommend to all fortune 
hunters. Says another, and this we quote for 
the sex, “ A man must ask his wife leave to 
thrive.” Says a third, “All things are soon 
prepared in a well ordered house.” Says still 
another, and a pity ’tis true, “A hungry man 
is an angry man,” but being true, all sensible 
wives will lay it to heart. Not to be prolix, 
we finish with a fifth, which we commend to all 
of either sex, who are over fond of gratifying 
their vanity, by giving expensive entertain¬ 
ments, “ Pools make feasts, and wise men eat 
them.” 
TIIE GOLD FIELDS OF THE WORLD, 
Gold abounds to a greater or less extent in 
almost every country. It has been found in 
small quantities in Spain, Portugal, Sweden, 
the Germanic States, Turkey, and even in En¬ 
gland. The produce of the Russian gold mines 
is from $1 '>, 000,000 to $ 20 , 000,000 annually.— 
Besides Australia, gold is found in Hindostan, 
China, Malacca, Japan, Borneo, New Guinea 
and New Zealand. It has also been discovered 
in considerable quantities in Lower Canada.— 
The eastern gold region of the United States is 
considered as beginning in Virginia, extending 
through North and South Carolina into Ala¬ 
bama. I 11 1843, $1,200,000 was dug from the 
mines of Virginia. The west coast of Ameri¬ 
ca is the region having the greatest number of 
gold deposits. It is found in all the South 
American States, and is also procured from va¬ 
rious parts of Africa, to the amount of about 
$2,500,000 yearly. It is estimated that the 
total yield of gold during the year 1853, was 
$250,000,000; and it is now supposed that the 
whole stock of gold and silver now in circula¬ 
tion is $2,500,000,000. —Boston Journal. 
Good Actions.—W hen we have practiced 
good actions awhile, they become easy; and 
when they are easy, we begin to take pleasure 
in them; and when they please us, we do them 
frequently; and by frequency of acts they grow 
into a habit. 
When the idea of any pleasure strikes your 
imagination, make a just computation between 
the duration of the pleasure and that of the re¬ 
pentance that is likely to follow it 
DULL CHILDREN. 
No fact can be plainer than this, it is impos¬ 
sible to judge correctly of the genius or intel¬ 
lectual ability of ihe future man by the indica¬ 
tions of childhood. Some of the most eminent 
men of all ages were remarkable only for dull¬ 
ness in their youth. Sir Isaac Newton, in his 
boyhood, was inattentive to his study, and rank¬ 
ed very low in school until the age of twelve. 
When Samuel Wythe, the Dublin schoolmas¬ 
ter, attempted to educate Richard Brinsley 
Sheridan, he pronounced the boy an “incor¬ 
rigible.” The mother of Sheridan fully con¬ 
curred in this verdict, and declared him the 
most stupid of her sons. Goldsmith was dull 
in his youth, and Shakspeare, Gibbon, Davy 
and Dryden do not appear to have exhibited 
in their childhood even the common elements 
of future success. 
When Berzelius, the eminent Swedish chem¬ 
ist, lef, school for the university, the words 
“ Indifferent in behavior and of doubtful 
hope,” were scored against his name; and after 
he entered the university he narrowly escaped 
being turned back. U 11 one of his first visits 
to the laboratory, when nineteen years old, he 
was taunted with the inquiry whether he “ un¬ 
derstood the difference between a laboratory 
and a kitchen.” Walter Scott had the credit 
of having the “thickest skull in the school,” 
though Dr. Blair told the teacher that many 
bright rays of future glory shone through that 
same “thick skull.” Milton and Swift were 
justly celebrated for stupidity in childhood.— 
The great Isaac Barrow’s father used to say 
that, if it pleased God to take from him any of 
his children, he hoped it might be Isaac, as the 
least promising. Clavius, the great mathe¬ 
matician of his age, was so stupid in his boy¬ 
hood, that his teacher could make nothing of 
him till they tried him in geometry. Carraci, 
the celebrated painter, was so inapt in his 
youth, that his masters advised him to restrict 
his ambition to the grinding of colors. 
“One of the most popular authoresses of the 
present day,” says an English writer, “ could 
not read when she was seven. Her mother 
was rather uncomfortable about it, but said as 
everybody did learn, with opportunity, she sup- 
pored her child would do so at last. By eight¬ 
een, the apparently slow genius paid the heavy 
but inevitable debts of her father from the 
profits of her first work, aud before thirty, had 
published thirty volumes.” Dr. Scott, the com¬ 
mentator, could not compose a theme when 
twelve years old; and even at a later age Dr. 
Adam Clark, after incredible effort, failed to 
commit to memory a poem of a few stanzas 
only. At nine years of age, one who afterward 
became a chief justice in this country, was du¬ 
ring a whole winter, unable to commit to memo¬ 
ry the little poem found in one of our school 
books. 
Labor and patience are the wonder workers 
of man—the wan t by whose magic touch he 
changes dross into gold, deformity into beauty, 
the desert into a garden, and the ignorant child 
into the venerable sage. Let no youth be giv¬ 
en up as an incorrigible doit, a victim only to 
be laid upon the auar of stupidity, until labor 
and patience have struggled with him long- 
enough to ascertain whether he is a “ natural 
fool,” or whether his mind ’. merely enclosed 
in a harder shell than common, requiring only a 
little outward aid to escape into vigorous and 
symmetrical life. 
-- 
THE NEW SLED. 
“ Mother, here is my new sled,” said a rosy- 
cheeked little fellow, tugging his sled into the 
house in order to show it to his mother; “and 
the first thing it shall do is to go an errand for 
you. What do you want me to fetch you 
home from the store? Aud the next thing it 
shall do shall be to carry Alice to ride, tone’s 
a little girl, and would like a ride ou my new 
sled, I dare say. Would it not please her 
dearly, mother? After that I'll go on the hill 
and slide with the boys.” 
This is one of the best order of exercises for 
a new sled that 1 ever heard of, and I wish 
every boy to make it. First aiid foremost was 
Jamie’s sled to be used to help his mother, then 
to give delight to his little sister, aud not until 
lastly did he mean to use it for Ids own special 
amusement. I venture to say most boys would 
have begun with themselves first, would they 
not? Mother aud sister would have come last, 
or come not at all, or had perhaps only a 
grudged share in the new sled; as, for instance, 
when you came home from sliding down hid, 
your mother should have asked you to go an 
errand for her, and you would have said “ how- 
tired you were,” or asked “ if to-morrow would 
not do,” and wished “ somebody else would go on 
errands.” Or if your sister had said, “ Oh, take 
me a little ride on your new sled,” you might 
have roughly answered, “It's my sled; I shan’t 
j take girls ou it,” or some unkind answer like 
i this, which boys are too apt to make. 
But do you think this would have been the 
! best way to enjoy your sled? No, I think not. 
James had learned the true secret of taking the 
greatest amount of enjoyment with his, and 
that was not beginning with himself first.— 
There is a great sale of sleds about this time, 
and I hope every boy who reads this will try 
J ames’ way of enjoying his. 
The' Extinct American Race. —Amidst 
the plains of North America, some powerful 
nation, which has disappeared, constructed cir¬ 
cular, square, and octagonal fortifications; 
walls, GOOD toises in length, tumuli, from 700 
to 800 feet in diameter, and 140 feet in height, 
sometimes round, sometimes with several sto¬ 
ries, and containing thousands of skeletons.— 
These skeletons are the remains of men less 
slender and more squat than the present inhab¬ 
itants of those countries. On a vast space of 
ground at the Lower Orinoco, as well as in the 
banks of the Casiquiare, and between the 
sources of the Essequibo and the Rio Blanco, 
there are rocks of granite covered with sym¬ 
bolic figures. These sculptures denote that 
the extinct generations belonged to nations 
different from those which now inhabit the 
same region.— Humboldt's Travels. 
a 1 ri <m \ ^ negligence of Mary’s education—for though 
J/F.OT tj♦ tlie y bad beea literally cramming her mind, 
6 from the first dawn of intelligence, and she 
could read fluently, yet with all her accmire- 
THE BRIDE’S NEW HOME. meoto * e did uot I know the multiplication 
Far from tier childhood’s sunny bowers, table.” In a fe w years it mattered not how little, 
a New Home meets the fair young Bride; or how much she knew; too frail for earth’s 
New duties claiming now the hours, rude teachings, she was transferred to that 
And stranger scenes on every side. . . . ' 
But when the twilight hour has come, school whose leacher is the brightness of that 
And Memory’s holiest depths are stirred. Father’s glory, who knows the capacities and 
Sees she not then the dear old home, wants of all his children. 
Where late her step and voice were heard ? 
Before the fourth child, also a little girl, was 
And thinks she not of childhood’s dreams, , , , , , , ,, 
That thrilled her with their witching spell; ° W en 0 U S h to be taU S ht - the parents had 
Of youth's more wild, romantic schemes learned a better course. Much like her sister 
She loved to loster all so well ? in constitution and temperament, they resolved 
Who miss the dear ones gone from them, llot t0 hun 7 ber at all > but let her take her 
With each of whom some memory blends, own course in regard to learning trom books. 
Now treasured as a priceless gem? When about six years of age, she began to 
But the deep sense of loneliness wish to read stories; she knew the alphabet, 
That weighs so heavily on the soul, which was about the extent of her school lore. 
When thoughts like these upon her press, , , , 
Yields to affection’s sweet control- A gentlemangave her the ballad of the “ Little 
That strong affection which incites Orphans, illustrated with colored plates. Her 
To almost any sacrifice, curiosity was excited, and her mother having 
Which is to those whom it unites, c ,. , ., , . , , , , ° 
An antepast to Paradise. f ° rbld bein S rCad to ber > sIie mastered it for 
herself in three weeks, without any urging.— 
The Bride's New Home! Religion there . , „ , J ~ ~ 
Should ever have her sacred shrine, At Seven 7 eai ’ s of a S e WOS Sent to School, 
And morning praise and evening prayer and at ten was in advance of her elder sister 
Be breathed for every gift divine. when at that age; and, what was better, the 
Poor human love will never wane, , . , , , 
Nor idolize its objects here, mmd was not taxed to the detriment of the 
Where Piety has reared a fane, body. 
And the heart offering is sincere. I will not here stop to argue the philosophy 
The Bride’s New Home I Peace be within, of this subject; common observation will point 
And every hallowed grace employed; out to parents or teachers those whose tem- 
A mother's prayer an answer win; , . 
a father’s blessing full enjoyed; pei ament, and activity of brain, are such as to 
a sister’s wishes realized; need a const ant curb, while those of the oppo- 
a brother’s hopes fulfilment find; site character will bear urging without injury. 
Each dear friend’s benediction prized, 0 ° o j 
And iiii with odorous thoughts the mind. ^ ^ feciw an CdS}, lymphatic person niuiile 
-pi tj -a * xt tt it* • i insane by study? I know it is hard to over- 
Her soul-entrancing measure there, come parental, or professional pride and apply 
And melancholy’s dirge ne’er break this curb, but when we consider the fact that 
<**** 
That echo but to gentle words, arri\e at maturity, come to a stand-still before 
So shall the Bride’s New Home be made they have realized the promise of their child- 
_ _ _ nood, we may well turn with more hope, and 
_ less coldness, to those children who are slower 
DON'T TEACH C HIL DREN TOO MUCH. in faniing _, ho , e p^;,, faculttes ° f 
by mrs. m. w. u. be allowed to receive and examine before they 
— respond. Where the perceptives of children 
In Twv Numbers. No. I. in the same family vary, parents are in danger 
Perhaps there is less need of this caution 0 f allowing a partiality, in outward seeming at 
now, than existed thirty years ago, when pa- Ieast> to creep in , which is destructive of hap- 
rents were thought to be very negligent, if pineas and harmony. 
their children were not sent to school at three _ , , 0 , t _ 
or four years of age, and even then, they were BEAUTY 
expected to know as much as 1 think children __. 
ought to know at seven. I say there is not SO “The wind passetu over it, and it is gone.” 
much need of this caution, that I have adopted How often we hear men eager in the pursuit 
for my motto, as formerly existed, as far as it P aidnerd for life, inquire for a beautilul 
, , i ... , , , woman; and yet how brief the existence of what 
regards the knowledge obtained in schools be- they see k, and how unproductive of happiness 
cause I believe that parents entertain better is its possession. 
views on this subject; besides, facilities for im- M e know full well the satisfaction that sleeps 
TIIE BRIDE’S NEW HOME. 
Far from her childhood’s sunny bowers, 
A New Home meets the fair young Bride; 
New duties claiming now the hours, 
And stranger scenes on every side. 
But when the twilight hour has come. 
And Memory’s holiest depths are stirred, 
Sees she not then the dear old home, 
Where late her step and voice were heard ? 
And thinks she not of childhood’s dreams, 
That thrilled her with their witching spell; 
Of youth’s more wild, romantic schemes 
She loved to foster all so well ? 
And sees she not those absent friends 
Who miss the dear ones gone from them, 
With each of whom some memory blends, 
Now treasured as a priceless gem ? 
But the deep sense of loneliness 
That weighs so heavily on the soul, 
When thoughts like these upon her press, 
Yields to affection's sweet control— 
That strong affection which incites 
To almost any sacrifice, 
Which is to those whom it unites, 
An antepast to Paradise. 
The Bride's New Home! Religion there 
Should ever have her sacred shriue, 
And morning praise and evening prayer 
Be breathed for every gift divine. 
Poor human love will never wane, . 
Nor idolize its objects here. 
Where Piety has reared a fane. 
And the heart offering is sincere. 
The Bride’s New Home ! Peace be within. 
And every hallowed grace employed; 
A mother’s prayer an answer win ; 
A father’s blessing full enjoyed; 
A sister’s wishes realized ; 
A brother’s hopes fulfilment find; 
Each dear friend’s benediction prized, 
And fill with odorous thoughts the mind. 
The Bride's New Home ! Let music wake 
Her soul-entrancing measure there, 
And melancholy’s dirge ne’er break 
In darkling cadence on its air, 
Let Love's perfume its halls pervade, 
That echo hut to gentle words. 
So shall the Bride’s New Home be made 
The fairest dwelling earth affords. 
DON’T TEACH CHILDREN TOO MUCH. 
BY MRS. M. W. H. 
In Two Numbers — No. I. 
BEAUTY. 
parting instruction aud lessening the labor 
U e know full well the satisfaction that sleeps 
beneath the snow white lids of a beautiful eye; 
of learning, have increased a hundred fold in I 1 Y C .V 1 . 1 *! 1 Y'VU a U exquisite lip, in the 
. ° blush ot a rose that leaps into a budding cheek, 
the time. in |} ie g ne turn of a swan-like neck, the gentle 
Parents are beginning to understand the motions of a symmetrical form, or in the shad- 
idea, that children, especially those of delicate ow y redundance of dark aud beautiful flower 
constitutions, cannot bear to have the brain tresses. Ihe hearts of the young and passion- 
. , . , . ,. ,, ate leap gladly, and are filled with wild impul- 
too severely taxed, without re-action, on those --V® , • ... r ;■ 
, . , - . . . * ’ ses whilst gazing upon these things—but when 
physical energies requisite to a proper devei- the soul is scrutinized and found unblessed by 
opment. When a child, I frequently heard elevated thoughts and generous imaginings, 
the remark made, that it always made ehil- } vbe P the intellect is uncultured, and the imag- 
dren indolent to go to school. 1 knew that in ^ Qa, ti°n cold, the slumber ot torgettulness will 
,, - . , soon tall upon the dream ot beauty, and the 
my own case, the fact applied, but of course I flame 0 f affection be quenched with apathy and 
knew nothing ot the philosophy. There is but disgust. 
little danger of injuring a child by study, who With men of genius, strong feelings and pow- 
has not an active brain, and even those who er ^ ,d passions are ever associated, and if beauty 
have are less liable to it, as schools are now ? e qUalit f S . f wil1 ’ tho ^ 
, . ’ , , , . and affection, it delicacy and virtue are not ad- 
managci., than they were, when the least devi- mirably blended with mental attractions, the 
atiou irom the text in the recitation of a les- light of love will soon be extinguished, and the 
son was regarded as a failure, and the victim of generous impulse of the bosom chilled by 
confinement to benches without backs, was vis- a P a ^ b ) and contempt _ 
-i ,... i, . , Many men ox intellect may yield a momenta- 
ited with punishment it caught making pictures ly hou ^ ge to a beautiful w ^ aU) dispossessed 
on the slate, or trying to relieve the aching 0 f other fascinations; even a village urchin 
limbs or spine by assuming some position be- will chase the gilded wings of a butterfly, but in 
sides that of right angles. I now wonder that both cases the external splendor falls upon 
children could have been even compelled to U e l r sei,sed r a ‘ ld something ol an innate charac- 
, , ... x . ter is sought tor, to sustain the regard which 
study so many hours with so little variety in beauty excited. Nothing is so flattering to 
their lessons. the feeling s of man, as the exhaustless and 
But my object is not so much to speak of c l ueu chless regard tor females, and no incense 
the injuries resulting from too much teaching so rich ? au b ®. offered u P on tbo 1 shriae of 
7 , , ° . .. . ° a womans ambition, as the avowed and en- 
at school, though that evil in some cases exists thusiastic affection of a man of genius. Beau- 
as to put in a plea lor a class of sprightly, del- ty, thou art a poor and unmeaning joy, when 
icate children who are taught too much at contrasted with depth of feeling and power of 
home. Toill ustrate this part of my subject, I - raind > and slie ' vho W0ldd aggrandize to herself 
will give instances of tl.e management of t»» I ptoo»l 
,f . . , ° , i beauty, is too imbecile m her aspirations, to 
children m the same lannly. I he eldest, a ; merit the attention of an elevated thinker. 
bright, precocious, delicate little girl, began to _ t _ 
talk very early, and was very interesting, es- A Gm _ who wrot<! the fo , !owi 
pecially to the parents, who could scarcely wait w epita b „ infant? It | 0 , be 
tor the natural development ot the taculties, beart . 
but were constantly urging some new accom- “ * Beneath thia ston6j in sweet rep0SCj 
plishment upon the little victim, Ot whom they Is laid a mother’s dearest pride; 
were sufficiently proud on finding her the A flo ' ver that ecarce Ilad waked t0 life , 
mistress of nearly all the alphabet, and able to 
repeat little verses at two years of age. In The precious boon his love had given : 
two years more they found she could not learn Alld thou s h the c;lsket moulders here, 
•i , The crom is sparkling now in heaven. 
so easily as they expected, aud the poor child s 
was often made to suffer from imputed care- Ar . 
, , . i , .. ,, , Marriage.—M arriage between persons of 
lessness, when it was only the result ot extrav- salu0 is im j lt f titution of (& 1 - Mar- 
agant expectations on the part ot the parents, nage between an old man and a young woman 
who alone were in fault. But their vanity was is an institution of man. Marriage between 
destined to receive a shock. When little I an old woman and a young man is an institu- 
Mary was five years of age, she was sent to dou ot tbe devd * 
her grand-parents, to attend schooL The j j — 
fathei and mother expected to receive some d ' HE criterion of true beauty is that it in- 
flattering compliments on the child s proficiency There ^ soniething( therefore, in true beauty 
—not so; the good old grandfather wrote to that corresponds with right reason, and is not 
his children, lecturing them severely for their merely the creation of fancy. 
