tutes," and "Associations." These, in the opinion of the Secretary, are aids of vital importance in awakening the enthusiasm of teachers, and promoting the healthful progress of education. During the past year six Teachers' Institutes have been held in different sections of the State. So well satisfied are the Board of Education with their favorable operation, that they propose holding twelve institutes during the ensuing year.

PRECOCITY.

[THE following extract is taken from an article that originally appeared in "Eliza Cook's Journal." It was doubtless written by an observer of "boys and girls" in London. The sentiments are, however, in our judgment peculiarly applicable to the "rising generation" of this meridian. How much certain popular notions of government and discipline, at home and in school, have conduced to this precocious development of the "juveniles," we leave it to our readers to determine. Our individual preference, we freely confess, is for the manners and morals of the children of the "old school."]

It was once said of a certain man, "that he had never been a boy." That was meant to point him out ironically as a grand exception to the common race of mortals; but what was the exception then, really seems to have become the rule now, and I am tempted to think that the race of boys is fast becoming extinct, and being replaced by a race of manikins, wanting alike in the grave power of maturity and the light-hearted wildness of childhood. I have seen upon the same apple-tree fruit unripe indeed, but full, and juicy, and promising luscious mouthfuls when the sun should have matured them; and close by, a little, half-withered, prematurely-shrivelled thing, looking as if it had forgotten to grow last year, and was not thought worth gathering; and I could not help thinking that that was to the other apples what manikins are to real boys; and as I am fond of fruit, I only hope the apple-trees will not take to extensively imitating the vagaries of us mortals. Solemnly and seriously, I cannot help wondering sometimes whether those old fairy tales are true about the mischievous sprites changing human infants in their cradles for young elves of their own species, and thinking that the race, curtailed of their old dominions of forest and greenwood, and thicket copse and barren waste, and scorning the doctrines of Malthus, are compelled to find outlets for their superabundant and unemployed population, and are exchanging with earthly mothers and fathers on an extensive scale. The suppo

sition is no doubt a most extravagant one, but how on earth else to account for the wonderful increase of manikins I do not know; and, perhaps, when one is involved in a puzzle of doubt and perplexity, without a chance of lighting upon a reasonable solution, an unreasonable one is better than none at all. When I was a boy of thirteen or fourteen, I think I was a fair specimen of boys of my time and age. My father was an old soldier, settled down after a life of hardship and warfare into a country gentleman of some standing and consideration in the village where we then lived, and moving in at least as good society as Mr. Smithson, a retired coal merchant I know, at No. 4 in our terrace; yet I do not know two more entirely different beings, than Master Smithson, now in his early teens, and what I was then. I looked, as I recollect, like a boy; there was no more of the man in me than there is of the full-blown flower in the bud; while Master Smithson is a perfect manikin- a good specimen of his class; and if you were to look at him through a powerful magnifying glass, and imagine the whiskers, you might take him for an exquisite of the first water. My short jacket, corduroy trowsers, laced shoes, and open collar, are, in my mind's eye, in decided contrast with the superb apparel of the representative of more modern boys, who endues himself in a shiny satin stock, adorned with pins and chains, a frock-coat of the smartest cut, and kerseymere trowsers of the finest texture, tightly strapped down over patent miniature Wellingtons, of the highest possible polish.

In the forest on the borders of which our snug house stood, I used to roam at freedom, birds-nesting, blackberry-gathering, cricketing with the village boys, and bathing in the deep clear pool in its quietest nooks, my face all tan and freckles, and my hands sunburnt and scratched; or sometimes I would gallop for miles round on the rough shaggy forest pony, which was my especial property; while Master Smithson wears Paris kid gloves, uses cosmetics to improve his complexion, never indulges in rougher summer exercise than a quiet walk on the shady side of the way, when he is tired calls a "Hansom" with perfect composure and self-possession, has his hair cut and curled at the Burlington Arcade, and takes his bath at the Hummuns. My father's old gold repeater, with an outer case almost large enough to fry a beef-steak, and its pendent bunch of seals, one bearing the family arms, used to seem to me the very ne plus ultra of watches, and was an object of my especial ambition; but young Smithson has a Parisian time-keeper, about the size of a half-crown, with an enamelled case, on which is represented Venus and Adonis, and it is suspended round his neck by a massive gold chain, with a smaller one from which depends a dashing brequet seal, bearing the crest of the Smithsons the said crest,

by-the-way, having been fished up a year or two ago, at some expense, by the Herald King, and emblazoned conspicuously on both doors and back of the family Brougham. Great as was the contrast between the outside of this young Englander and myself, it is scarcely so great as between the inner man or boy (I am rather puzzled which to say). I knew as much Latin as the village clergyman could get into me, was a tolerable arithmetician, knew something of mathematics, had a good smattering of history, and was tolerably acquainted with geography; while our young friend Smithson could never compass an accurate knowledge of the rule of three, is far better acquainted with the Casino than with Euclid, and has about as much knowledge of latitude and longitude as a dancing bear. But then he extends his studies in another direction he has progressed with the march of intellect- for, calling in upon the Smithsons the other morning, I found him in an embroidered Persian dressing-gown, reclining upon the sofa, and languidly perusing a translation of the last novel by the inexhaustible Alexandre Dumas. I well recollect, too, my reverence for my father, who, with his grave cheerfulness and stern old soldierlike discipline, I should almost as soon have thought of treating disrespectfully as of playing familiarly with Wombwell's largest lion. But Master Smithson calls his "guv'nor" (that's the word now), a stingy old fogy, behind his back, and laughs at him often to his face.

The strongest contrast, perhaps, is in our behavior to strangers; they used to treat me like a boy, and ask me how I did; say I looked healthy and strong; and, perhaps, (as old General Johnson did the last time my father and I met him in London,) slip a half-sovereign into my hand, saying, they dared say I knew what to do with it. I used to thank them with a bow-answer their questions, and hold my tongue; but Master Smithson remarks with great facility, that it is "a fine day" or "deuced hot," or "uncommonly wet," and thinks that he has as much, or it may be more right to an independent share in the conversation than that" old fogy," Smithson the elder; and if the old General (who assuredly would not have offered money to so fine a gentleman) had put a piece of gold into his hand, I really believe the modern youngster would have had serious thoughts of calling him out. With women, too, I remember that, like most boys of that time, I was very shy. I used to blush up to the eyes on going into our quiet parlor, and unexpectedly finding some of the neighboring ladies and their daughters, chatting with my good mild mother; but young Smithson, bless you, offers to escort his mother's friends home, and gives his arm to a dowager or a demoiselle, with all the grace and gallantry of a courtier of Charles the Second. It is not only in boys of the Smithson class that this precocity obtains. No matter how many years

ago, I used to think smoking, a manly accomplishment, (Master S. by-the-by puffs cigars at thirty-two shillings a pound, and takes an amber-tipped hookah at home,) and I was in the habit of occasionally picking from old haystacks a sort of reed, and making myself disagreeably sick by smoking it; but now ragged boys of all ages indulge openly in short pipes; and it is not many weeks ago, walking in the environs of a country town, I actually met a cheesemonger's boy, of about twelve, aproned, with his basket on his arm, smoking a pipe, with a meerschaum bowl almost the size of a half-pint pot, and a tube half as long as himself, and strutting along with the composure and gravity of a German professor taking his morning walk.

What a difference there is in girls, too, compared with what they used to be! I do think they have been changed quite as much as boys; in their hearts, perhaps, they are more as they were. But I cannot help comparing my own sisters with the modern misses I occasionally meet, and contrasting the broadbrimmed straw hats, short frocks, pinafores, and romping of the one, with the guaze bonnets, pelerines, beflounced dresses, and rainbow parasols of the latter. I verily believe if you had given my sisters, at ten years old, the finest sylpide parasol that ever was bought or sold in Regent-street, it would in a couple of hours have been converted into a machine to catch butterflies, or something of the sort, and smashed before the day was over; and thinking of this, I could not help laughing at some little ladies, whose conversation I overheard a short time ago. Two were just entering their teens, the third a little toddling thing of five or six, and they had all parasols. The two eldest carried theirs majestically upright, but the younger performed with hers some eccentric motions, for which she was gravely reprimanded by one of the dowagers, the other kindly excusing her by the plea, that she was "such a little thing, you know."

These may seem small matters; but I honestly confess that I regard them with some interest, as indications of what the future people are to be, and I am old-fashioned enough to like, in this respect at all events, what was better than what is. I should not object so much to precocity in knowledge or power, but this is a sort of precocity which seems to indicate that the heart is getting old while the brain remains young; that the sincerity of nature is fading away before artificial forms; that the fresh impulses of soul are being withered by conventional ceremony; that the gayety of youth and its wild light-heartedness are being checked. by arbitrary notions of propriety, and its simplicity being corrupted by finery and ostentation. I like men really to be men; and in order that that should come to pass, I think it necessary that children should really be children. Many may differ from me, but in my opinion, a fine manly character is better reared

up out of the enthusiasm, the wild energy and ready sympathies, and earnest, confident simplicity of true childhood, than out of the premature gravity, distrust, and decorum of the manikin tribe; and I shrink with nervous fear from that state of society in which hearts shall grow old before brains develop or forms expand, and the rising generation lose the openness and candor of youth, and acquire the duplicity and secrecy of old age, before they even enter upon the real business of life. Depend upon it, the subject is well worthy of the consideration of the mothers and fathers of England, and it will be well for all if it seriously engage their attention.

GEOGRAPHICAL AND ETHNOLOGICAL CONSIDERATIONS FROM LT. MAURY'S RECENT PAPERS ON COMMUNICATION WITH THE PACIFIC.

LONGITUDINAL RIVERS.

A RIVER that runs east or west crosses no parallels of latitude, consequently, as it flows towards the sea, it does not change its climate, and, being in the same climate, the crops that are cultivated at its mouth are grown also at its sources, and from one end to the other of it there is no variety of productions; it is all wheat and corn, or wine, or oil, or some other staple. Assorted cargoes, therefore, cannot be made up from the produce which such a river brings down to market.

On the other hand, a river that runs north or south crosses parallels of latitude; changes its climate at every turn; and as the traveller descends it, he sees, every day, new agricultural staples abounding. Such a river bears down to the sea a variety of productions, some of which some one or another of the different nations of the earth is sure to want, and for which each one will send to the markets at its mouth, or the port whence they are distributed over the world. The assortments of merchandise, afforded by such a river, are the life of commerce. They give it energy, activity, and scope. Such a river is the Mississippi, and the Mississippi is the only such river in the world.

THE INTERTROPICAL SEA.

But the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea-call them the intertropical sea of America, for they are in fact but one sea-are supported by the most magnificent system of river basins in the world, and the grandest back country on the face of the earth. The rivers which empty into this American sea drain more back country than do all the seas of Europe; and