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wheat and was ordered to pay ever so much money: well, I didn't care to pay it then, but gave an engagement; and I meant to see about it but forgot: and all in a jiffy, came a thing they call an execution—and to stop the cant, I was forced to borrow money from that tame negur, the exciseman, who'd sell the sowl out of his grandmother for sixpence, (if indeed there ever was a sowl in the family,) and its a terrible case to be paying interest for it still.

But, Philip, you might give up or dispose of part of your farm. I know you could get a good sum of money for that rich meadow by the river.""

introducing my readers at once to the scene of my story, and with the same time-saving privilege I introduce my dramatis persona, a gentleman and lady promenading the deck with the slow step so natural on a summer's night, when your company is agreeable.

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The lady leaned familiarly on the arm of her companion as they walked to and fro, sometimes looking at the moon, the other, into the moonlight. She was a tall, queenly per. and sometimes at her pretty feet, as they stole out, one after son, somewhat embonpoint, but extremely graceful. Her eye was of a dark blue, shaded with lashes of remarkable length, and her features, though irregular, were expressive of great vivacity, and more than ordinary talent. She wore her hair, which was of a deep chestnut, in the Madonna style, simply parted, and her dress, throughout, had the chaste elegance of good taste-the tournure of fashion without its extravagance.

Her companion was a tall, well-formed young man, very handsome, with a frank and prepossessing expression of countenance, and the fine freedom of step and air, which characterize the well-bred gentleman. He was dressed fashionably, but plainly, and wore whiskers, in compliance with the prevailing mania. His tone was one of rare depth and melody; and as he bent slightly and gracefully to the lady's ear, its low, rich tenderness had the irresistible fascination, for which the human voice is sometimes so re

«True for ye maʼam dear—and I've been seeing about it for a long time-but some how I have no luck. Jist as ye came up, I was thinking to myself, that the gale day is passed, and all one as before, sara a pin's worth have I for the rint, and the landlord wants it as bad as I do, though it's a shame to say that of a gintleman; for jist as he was seeing about some ould custodium, or something of the sort, that had been hanging over the estate ever since he came to it, the sheriff's officers put executioners in the house; and it's very sorrowful for both of us, if I may make bould to say so; for I am sartin he'll be racking me for the money -and indeed the ould huntsman tould me as much-but I must see about it: not indeed that it's much good-for I've no luck." "Let me beg of you, Philip, not to take such an idea into your head; do not lose a moment; you will be utterly ruined if you do; why not apply to your father-markable. in-law-he is able to assist you; for at present you only suffer from temporary embarrassmnet." "True for ye that's good advice, my lady; and by the blessing of God I'll see about it." "Then go directly, Philip." "Directly ➡I can't maʼam dear-on account of the pigs: and sorra a one I have but myself to keep them out of the cabbages; for I let the woman and the grawls go to the pattern at Killaun; it's little pleasure they see, the craturs." "But

your wife did not hear the huntsman's story?" "Och, ay did she-but unless she could give me a sheaf o' banks notes, where would be the good of her staying but I'll see about it." “Immediately then, Philip, think upon the ruin that may come-nay, that must come, if you neglect this matter: your wife too; your family reduced from comfort to starvation--your home desolate"-" Asy my lady, don't be after breaking my heart intirely; thank God I have seven as fine flahulugh children as ever peeled pratee, and all under twelve years old; and sure I'd lay down my life tin times over for every one o' them; and to-morrow for sartin-no-to-morrow-the hurling: I can't to-morrow; but the day after, if I'm a living man, I'll see about it."

Poor Philip! his kindly feelings were valueless because of his unfortunate habit. Would that this were the only example I could produce of the ill effects of that dangerous little sentence-" I'll see about it!" Oh, that the sons and daughters of the fairest island that ever heaved its green bosom above the surface of the ocean, would arise and be doing what is to be done, and never again rest contented with" SEEING ABOUT IT."

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It was a beautiful night. The light lay sleeping on the St. Lawrence like a white mist. The boat, on whose deck our acquaintances were promenading, was threading the serpentine channel of the "Thousand Isles," more like winding through a wilderness than following the passage of a great river. The many thousands islands clustered in this part of the St. Lawrence seem to realize the mad girl's dream when she visited the stars, and found them

Nothing can be more like fairy land than sailing among them on a summer's evening. They vary in size, from a quarter of a mile in circumference, to a spot just large from a bowshot to a gallant leap from each other. The enough for one solitary tree, and are at different distances, river, though spread into a lake by innumerable divisions, universal formation is a rock of horizontal stratum, and the is almost embowered by the luxuriant vegetation which covers them. There is everywhere sufficient depth for the boat to run directly alongside, and with the rapidity and quietness of her motion, and the near neighbourhood of the trees, which may almost be touched, the illusion of aerial carriage over land, is,'at first, almost perfect. The passage through the more intricate parts of the channel, is, if pos sible, still more beautiful. You shoot into narrow passei where you could spring on shore on either side, catching as you advance, hasty views to the right and left, through long vistas of islands; or, running round a projecting point of rock or woodland, open into an apparent lake, and dart. ing rapidly across, seem running right on shore as you enter a narrow strait in pursuit of the covert channel.

*—only green islands, sown thick in the sky,"

It is the finest ground in the world for the magic of moonlight.' The water is clear, and on the night speak of, was a perfect mirror. Every star was repeated. The foliage of the islands was softened into indistinctness, and they lay in the water, with well-defined shadows bangs and apparently as moveable. In more terrestrial compa ing darkly beneath them, as distinctly as clouds in the sky, ny than the Lady Viola's, our hero might have fancied himself in the regions of upper air; but as he leant over

the tafferel, and listened to the sweetest voice that ever melted into moonlight, and watched the shadows of the dipping trees as the approach of the boat broke them, one by one, he would have thought twice before he had said that he was sailing on a fresh water river, in the good steam boat Queenston.

Miss Viola Clay and Mr. Frank Gresham, the hero and heroine of this true story, I should have told you before, were cousins. They had met lately after a separation of many years, and as the lady had in the meantime become the proudest woman in the world, and the gentleman had heen abroad and wore wiskers, and had, besides, a cousin's carte blanche for his visits, there was reason to believe they would become very well acquainted.

Frank had been at home but a few months when he was invited to join the party with which he was now making the fashionable tour. He had seen Viola every day since his return, and had more to say to her than to all the rest of his relatives together. He would sit for hours with her in the deep recesses of the windows, telling his adventures when abroad. At least, it was so presumed, as he talked all the time, and she was profoundly attentive. It was thought, too, he must have seen some affecting sights, for now, and then his descriptions made her sigh audibly, and once the colou rwasobserved to mount to her very temples-doubtless from strong sympathy with some touching distress.

his quizzing-glass was thrown up to his eye with a grace that would have put Brummel to the blush. From the square toe of his pump to the loop of his gold chain he was a perfect wonder. Every body smiled on Mr. Erastus Van Pelt.`

This accomplished gentleman looked with an evil eye on our hero. He had the magnanimity not to cut him outright, as he was the lady's cousin ; but tolerated him on the first day with a cold civility, which he intended should amount to a cut on the second. Frank thought him thus far very amusing; but when he came frequently in the way of his attentions to his cousin, and once or twice raised his glass at his remarks, with the uncomprehending 'Sir!' he was observed to stroke his black whiskers with a very ominous impatience. Further acquaintance by no means mended the matter, and Frank's brow grew more and more cloudy. He had already alarmed Mr. Van Pelt with a glance of his eye that could not be mistaken, and anticipated his cut direct' by at least some hours, when the Lady Viola took him aside, and bound over his thumb and finger to keep the peace towards the invisible waist of his adversary.

A morning or two after this precaution, the boat was bending in towards a small village which terminates the safe navigation above the rapids of the Split Rock. Coaches were waiting on shore to convey passengers to the next still water, and the mixed population of the little village, attracted by the arrival, was gathered in a picturesque

Frank joined the party for the tour, and had, at the time we speak of, been several weeks in their company: They had spent nearly a month among the Lakes, and were now descending by their grand outlet at Montreal.group on the landing. There was the Italian-looking CaMany a long walk had been taken, and many a romantic scene had been gazed upon during their absence, and the lady had, many a time, wandered away with her cousin, doubtless for the want of a more agreeable companion. She was indefatigable in seeing the celebrated places from every

nadian with his clear olive complexion and open neck, his hat slouched carelessly, and the indispensable red sash hanging from his waist; and the still, statue-like Indian, with the incongruous blanket and belt, hat and moccassin, costume of the border, and the tall, inquisitive-looking Ver.

he point, and made excursions which the gouty feet of montese-all mingled together like the figures of a pain

or the etiquette of a stranger's attendance would have forbidden. In these cases Frank's company was evidently a convenience; and over hill and dale, through glen and cavern, he had borne her delicate arm by the precious privilege of cousinship.

There's nothing like a cousin. It is the sweetest relation in human nature. There is no excitement in loving your sister, and courting a lady in the face of a strange family requires the nerve of a martyr; but your dear familiar cousin, with her provoking maidenly reserve, and her bewitching freedoms, and the romping frolics, and the stolen tenderness over the skein of silk that will get tangled and then the long rides which nobody talks about, and the long tête-à-têtes which are nobody's business, and the long letters of which nobody pays the postage-no, there is nothing like a cousina young, gay, beautiful witch of a consin!

Till within a few days Frank had enjoyed a monopoly of the Lady Viola's condescensions; but their party had been increased lately by a young gentleman who introduced himself to papa as the son of an old friend, and proceeded immediately to a degree of especial attention, which relieved our hero exceedingly of his duties.

Mr. Erastus Van Pelt was a tall, thin person, with an aquiline nose, and a forehead_that retreated till it was lost In the distance. It was evident at the first glance that he was high ton. The authenticity of his style, even on board a steam boat, distanced imitation immeasurably. The angle of his bow had been an indissoluble problem from his debut at the dancing school till the present moment, and

ter's study.

Miss Clay sat on the deck, surrounded by her party, Frank, at a little distance, stood looking into the water with the grave intentness of a statue, and Mr. Van Pelt levelled his glass at the horrid creatures' on shore, and expressed his elegant abhorrence of their sauvagerie in a fine spun falsetto. As its last thin tone melted, he turned and spoke to the lady with an air evidently more familiar than her dignity for the few first days seemed to have warranted. There was an expression of ill-concealed triumph in his look, and an uncompromised turning of his back on our penseroso, which indicated an advance in relative importance; and though Miss Clay went on with the destruction of her card of distances, just as if there was nobody in the world but herself, the conversation was well sustained till the last musical superlative was curtailed by the whiz of the escape valve.

As the boat touched the pier, Frank awoke from his reverie, and announced his intention of taking a boat down the rapids. Viola objected to it at first as a dangerous experiment; but when assured by him that it was perfectly safe, and that the boat, during the whole passage, would be visible from the coach, she opposed it no further. Frank then turned to Mr. Van Pelt, and to her astonishment, politely requested his company. The dandy was thunderstruck. To his comprehension it was like offering him a private interview with a bear. No sir,' said he, with a nervous twirl of his glass round his forefinger. Miss Clay, however, insisted on his acceptance of the invitation. The prospect of his company, without the restraint of Frank's

presence, and a wish to foster the good feeling from which she thought the offer proceeded, were sufficient reasons for perseverance, and on the ground that his beautiful cap was indispensable to the picturesque effect, she would take no denial. Most reluctantly his consent was at last given, and Frank sprang on shore with an accommodating readiness to find boatmen for the enterprise.

He found his errand a difficult one. The water was uncommonly low, and at such times the rapids are seldom passed, even by the most daring. The old voyageurs received his proposition with shrugs and volumes of patois, in which he could only distinguish adjectives of terror. By promises of extravagant remuneration, however, he prevailed on four athletic Canadians to row him to the Coteau du Lac. He then took them aside, and by dint of gesture and bad French, made them comprehend, that he wished to throw his companion into the river. They had no shadow of objection. For a "consideration," they would upset the bateau in a convenient place below the rapids, and insure Mr. Van Pelt's subsequent existence at the forfeiture of the reward. A simultaneous" Gardez vous!" was to be the signal for action.

The coaches had already started when Frank again stood on the pier, and were pursuing slowly the beautiful road on the bank of the river. He almost repented his rash determination for a moment, but the succeeding thought was one of pride, and he sprang lightly into the bateau at the Allons !" of the impatient boatmen.

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One mo

he was pulled down by a voyageur, and commanded im
peratively to lie still. Another and another shock followed
in quick succession, and she was, perfectly unmanageable.
The helmsman threw himself flat on the bottom. Mr.
Van Pelt hid his face in his hands, and crouched beside
him. The water dashed in, and the bateau, obeying every
impulse, whirled and flung from side to side like a feather.
It seemed as if every plunge must be the last.
ment she shivered and stood motionless, struck back by
violent blow, and the next, shot down into an abyss with
an arrowy velocity that seemed like instant destruction
Frank shook off the grasp of the voyageur, and holding on
to the side, half rose to his feet. "Gardez vous!" ex.
claimed the voyageur; and mistaking the caution for the
signal, with a sudden effort he seized Mr. Van Pelt, and,
plunging him over the side, leaped in after him. "Diable!"
muttered the helmsman, as the dandy, with a piening
skrick, sprang half out of the water, and disappeared in
stantly. But the Split Rock was right beneath the bow,
and like a shot arrow the boat sprang through the gorge,
and in a moment was gliding among the masses of form in
the smooth water.

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They put back immediately, and at à stroke or two against the current, up came the scientific brutus” of Mr. Van Pelt, quite out of curl, and crested with the foam through which he had emerged to a thinner element. There was no mistaking its identity, and it was rudely seized by the voyageur with a tolerable certainty that the ordinary sequel would follow. All reasoning upon anomalies, however, is uncertain, and, to the terror of the unlettered captor, down went un gentilhomme, leaving the envy of the world in his possession. He soon re-appeared, and with his faith in the unity of Monsieur considerably shaken, the voyageur lifted him carefully into the bateau.

My dear reader! were you ever sick? Did you have a sweet cousin, or a young aunt, or any pretty friend whe was not your sister or your mother, for a nurse? And do you remember how like an angel's fingers, her small white hand laid on your forehead, and how thrillingly her soft voice spoke low in your ear, and how inquiringly her fair face hung over your pillow? If you have not, and remem stitution, and half your uninteresting health, and half your ber no such passages, it were worth half your sound conlong life, to have had that experience. Talk of moonlight in a bower, and poetry in a boudoir there is no atmos phere for love like a sick chamber, and no poetry like the persuasion to your gruel, or the sympathy for your aching head, or your feverish forehead.

Mr. Van Pelt was already seated, and as they darted rapidly away with the first stroke of the oars, the voyageur at the helm commenced a low recitative. At every alternate line, the others joined in a loud, but not inharmonious chorus, and the strokes were light and deep as the leader indicated, by his tone, the necessity of rapidity or deliberation. In a few minutes they reached the tide, and as the boat swept violently in, the oars were shipped, and the boatmen, crossing themselves and mumbling a prayer to their saint, sat still, and looked anxiously forward. It was evidently much worse than Mr. Van Pelt had anticipated. Frank remarked upon the natural beauties of the river, but he had no eye for scenery. He sat on a low seat, grasping the sides of the boat with a tenacity as unphilosophical as it was out of character for his delicate fingers. The bateau glided like a bird round the island, which divides the river, and, steering for the middle of the stream, was in a moment hurrying with its whole velocity onward. The Split Rock was as yet far below, but the intermediate distance was a succession of rapids, and, though not much dreaded by those accustomed to the navigation, they were to a stranger sufficiently appalling. The river was tossed like a stormy sea, and the large waves, thrown up from the sunken rocks, came rolling back upon the tide, and dash-him as her lover. ing over the boat, flung her off like a tiny shell. Mr. Van Pelt was in a profuse perspiration. His knees, drawn up to his head by the acute angle of his posture, knocked violently together, and no persuasion could induce him to sit in the depressed stern for the accommodation of the voyageurs. He sat right in the centre of the bateau, and kept his eye on the waves with a manifest distrust of Providence, and an anxiety that betrayed a culpable want of resigna

tion.

The bateau passed the travellers on shore as she neared the rock. Frank waved his handkerchief triumphantly, The water just ahead roared and leaped up in white masses like a thousand monsters; and, at the first violent whirl,

Three months after Frank Gresham was taken out of the St. Lawrence, he was sitting in a deep recess with the lady, who, to the astonishment of the whole world, had accepted "Miss Viola Clay," said our hero, with attend to certain responses you wot of ?" The answer was a look of profound resignation, "when will it please 'you in a low sweet tone, inaudible to all save the ear for which it was intended.

of

are making preparations for visiting Jerusalem, in the be
JEWS. A great number of religious Jews in Poland
lief that the time predicted by their prophets has nearly ar
that country. The Jews generally are, we hear, watch-
rived, in which they shall be restored to
the possession
ing the movements of the Egyptian army with great
eagerness, in the belief that some arrangements will be
this belief has led to actual associations in Poland.
made which will enable them to return to Judes; but

ON THE MORAL TRAINING OF CHILDREN.
(For the Schoolmaster.)
LETTER III.

«THAT the infant mind," observes the judicious Mrs. Hamilton, “is, at an early period, susceptible of terror, is discovery unhappily made by every ignorant nurse. This nstinct, implanted by the wise Creator as a protection to he helpless state of infancy, is an instrument in the hands if senseless ignorance, too frequently applied to the worst if purposes. It is the first, the constant engine of tyranny. in proportion as it is made to operate, the mind will be

lebased and enfeebled. Deprived of its power and energy, t will remain the willing slave of sensation. To this calmity many an innocent being is exposed by the the injuicions treatment of the nursery."

Let parents beware of this dangerous rock. Let them careful that their children be not terrified into the appression of feeling, or rather into the suppression f the external marks of feeling, by threats of any thing oming to take them away. Let the only fear, used as a ampelling motive, be the fear of doing what is wrong, of fending God, of offending their parents and instructors; nd even that fear should be applied as a motive, very selan, and very cautiously. The habit of timidity, degenating into cowardice, terminates in selfishness. The mind which this degrading disposition is prevalent, generUy becomes absorbed in anxiety for personal, individual afety

Insincerity and cunning, are also frequently the atten. ants of a fearful disposition. Timidity, in fact, opens the 907 to a numerous and mischievous train of false ideas and feelings, which naturally, and almost inevitably proJure fatal errors of conduct. If frightful objects, which have no real existence, be employed to terrify children into restraint of their feelings, or submission to authority, they will, in course of time, as their minds grow enlightened, iscover the falsehood which has been used as a means of managing them; and is it not to be feared, that such a iscovery may render the youthful ear deaf to the representations of the beauty, and propriety, and benefit of

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Let us beware of giving children the idea, that they are to engross all attention and all care; that every thing, and is often done, unintentionally and unknowingly, by illevery body, should contribute to their amusement. This judging and ill-directed fondness in parents, or by friends paying excessive and irrational court to children, in order to flatter their parents. By this most injudicious conduct towards children, the seeds of vanity, of self-will, of interestedness, are sown in the infant mind; there they too quickly take root, grow too rapidly, and soon bear pernici

ous fruits.

mind. Its possession is commonly attended by the dispoThe love of power appears to be natural to the human sition to exercise it, and by contempt shown towards those who are subjected to it. This disposition evidently leads to tyranny and oppression; and therefore the greatest attention should be given to prevent its growth in the youthful mind." Never should children be permitted to tyrannize over inferiors, and to treat them with contempt. Never should servants be submitted to their caprice and humour. Sometimes, indeed, children experience the abuse of power exercised upon themselves by unnecessary control and vexatious restraint in the nursery. But how often are children trained to despise and ill-treat inferiors! They see them treated as beings of a lower class. They hear commands issued to them in harsh tones and an imperious manner. I have known boys permitted even to strike, and kick, female servants, and servants expected to bow to this infant tyranny. What can be the result of such conduct, but the production of overbearing dispositions, and the spoiling of tempers? Let children, from their earliest years, be taught that servants, and those even in the lowest stations of society, are their fellow-creatures, placed, as well as themselves, where their Heavenly Father hath pleased, in the great chain of beings; and that when they do their Firmness without anger, without even the faintest ap-duty faithfully and well, they are to be respected and treatpearance of violence; the contriving that some consequence ed kindly, as inferior friends and members of the great displeasing to the infant mind shall follow acts of resistance family of God. The welfare, happiness, and improvement and disobedience, and which shall seem to it to be their of servants, ought to be attended to, and all proper means natural results; the taking care that pleasing consequences taken to render the condition in which Providence has shall always attend submission and obedience; these mea-placed them, as comfortable as is consistent with the prosures will most probably enlist association of ideas as a per discharge of their necessary duties. powerful auxiliary on the side of duty and happiness. Let every possible means be used to check the principle of selfishness in children. Let them see their parents, their instructors, ever ready to communicate to others a share of whatever desirable objects they may possess, and prefering the comfort of those they love to their own personal gratification; let them be encouraged and incited, to share with others their food, their playthings, and what most appear to them most valuable; and let some pleasurable result follow such acts.

truth?

Selfishness is indeed the predominating or besetting sin of our nature, to which all are more or less hereditarily, or by birth, inclined, according to its predominance with parents. It is therefore an evil which cannot be too early

It is almost impossible to prevent all intercourse between children and servants; is it not, then, a fair object of inquiry, whether it be not worth the time and attention of heads of families to enlighten their servants, to give them good principles, and render them trust-worthy, for their own sakes, and the sakes of their children? If bad

masters and mistresses make bad servants, the converse of

the proposition is probably true,-good masters and mistresses make good servants.

Every appearance of insincerity, every attempt to deceive, whether made by word or action, should meet with the most marked disapprobation. Such a disposition should be repressed with anxious solicitude, and every circumstance which has any the remotest tendency to form it,

every temptation to disguisement, to fraud, to deceit, should be carefully removed.

to the happiness of others, enforced at the moment when the mind is in a proper tone for the exercise of the sympa

It has already been remarked, that fear leads to insin-thetic feelings. cerity. Let not children be punished for mere accidents; such as breaking china cups, or glasses; or for tearing and inking frocks but let them be encouraged immediately to run to their parents or guardians, and mention the misfortune which may have happened to them. The lesson of carefulness may be inculcated upon them by showing the waste occasioned by the breaking and destroying of useful things, and the good purposes to which might be applied the money necessary to replace them. If a stronger motive be found necessary, let it be the privation of some pleasure, or the obligation of making good the loss.

To establish an habitual regard to the principles of ho nesty, a child should not be permitted to pick up the smallest article, without inquiring to whom it belongs. This easy rule, and asking leave before they take any thing, even when very young, will give them a strong sense of the duty of honesty, as enjoined by God,-such, indeed, as may never be effaced. And here, I will just advert to that unjusti fiable inquisitiveness that leads to listening at doors, peeping into letters, and other mean devices to gain intelligence, which ought to be strictly prohibited. They should be taught an abhorence of all indirect means of satisfying their curiosity; and that they ought not even to look at the contents of an open letter without liberty; nor, indeed, of any other writing that does not belong to them.

If children be deceived by others, they will too soon learn to deceive in turn. Never, therefore, let things be misrepresented to them. If it be not proper for them to receive the information which they require, it is far better But above all, particular care, should be taken that all to tell them, that it is not fit for them to know, that there- those emotions and acts which, in the remotest degree, tend fore you do not think it proper to answer their inquiry, to produce the habit of cruelty or insensibility to the suffer than to misrepresent or mistate. Never let them hear the ings of others, be most sedulously checked; and every inthing that is not, even in jest; never let a falsehood becentive to them, and every possibility of practising them, uttered in their presence. Let them feel the bad effects of be removed, as far as authority of parents and heads of falying in being treated with disgrace and contempt. If, unhappily, they are addicted to the wretched habit of lying, enjoin servants and playfellows, in their hearing, to ask them no questions, because they cannot depend upon truth in their answers; and let their assertions, upon indifferent, as well as serious subjects, make no impression. Such treatment will probably be far more efficacious than corporal punishment.

When the propensity to lying is in a child more ad

vanced, perhaps the best method to cure it is, by explaining, in a few forcible words, not only the sin, but the folly of an offence which deprives him who is guilty of it, of our confidence, and debases his character; shew him that in lying he commits a greater crime to hide a smaller one; that he has nothing to hope from telling a falsehood, nor any thing

to fear from speaking truth.

Tale-bearing is also a habit attended with degrading and injurious consequences, to which young people in general are but too much addicted, and which seldom fails to produce

censoriousness and falsehood. Children should be strictly guarded against it, both by precept and example, and early taught not to speak to the disadvantage of any person.

An early and deep-rooted sense of strict justice, is the proper soil wherein to nourish every moral virtue; and

it should therefore be the constant care of parents assiduously to instil this into the tender minds of their children. The feelings of benevolence will never be uniform nor extensive in their operation, unless they are supported by a

milies can extend.

scratch, or to any other open violence against its object, lei If passion impel them to strike, to children feel in themselves the pain occasioned by such acts be right and efficacious to follow the lex talionis, the law to the person acted upon- In such cases, perhaps, it would of retribution, and inflict stroke for stroke, and scratch for scratch; that from experience they may learn the unplessant effects of such indulgence of passion. The first move the tenderest infants, by their being taught and encouraged ment may be given to irritable feelings in the minds even of to vent their indignation against persons who control or contradict them in any respect. How often do very youne children hear the exclamation from their nurse-maids, and sometimes even from foolish mothers- Naughty brother, or

naughty sister, or cross Sally, beat him I beat her!" have seen the hand of the baby, as yet incapable of understanding the dangerous exhortation, lifted up by the nurse who was carrying the precious burden, and made to perform folly carried, that it is not uncommon, when a child has the operation of striking. Nay, so far is this mischievous hurt itself by falling, and is expressing its feeling by tatt the table, or beat the floor, or beat the chair!-naughty and cries of vexation, to hear the absurd outcry-"Beat table, floor, or chair, to hurt baby !" A more efficacious mode of teaching revenge, and of cherishing irritable emo.

tions could not be devised.

Let children requently be told what dreadful effects have strong sense of justice. Hence the necessity and propriety committed in the heat and storm of passion; which, afterflowed from ungovernable anger, and what mischief is often of setting before them, on all occasions, both by precept and wards, is followed by bitter sorrow and remorse. Let them example, the most scrupulous integrity, liberality, fair- be taught never to speak or act while the fervour of passion

dealing, and honour, consistent with the Divine rule of rages in their bosoms; to be on their guard, and to curb

doing unto others as we would that others should do to us. Far from indulging a smile, therefore, at any instance of

themselves as soon as they feel its glow beginning, selfish dexterity, they should see that we view it with debe formed, and If proper and powerful motives be used, the habit, the testation. And as opportunities of inculcating the above the most irritable temper may be calmed. And surely now rule occur, they ought never to be passed by in silence. As, is an object worthy of the closest attention, and of the most

for instance, when a child has received an act of kindness or generosity, an appeal ought instantly to be made to his feelings, and the duty of contributing, in a similar manner,

assiduous exertions of parents.—I am, &c.,

A FRIEND TO EARLY EDUCATION. Edinburgh, Jan. 17, 1833.

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