LESSON LXIII.

PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

THAT is undoubtedly the wisest and best regimen, which takes the infant from the cradle, and conducts him along, through childhood and youth, up to high maturity, in such a manner as to give strength to his arm, swiftness to his feet, solidity and amplitude to his muscles, symmetry to his frame, and expansion to his vital energies. It is obvious, that this branch of education comprehends, not only food and clothing, but air, exercise, lodging, early rising, and whatever else is requisite to the full development of the physical constitution. The diet must be simple, the apparel must not be too warm, nor the bed too soft.

Let parents beware of too much restriction in the management of their darling boy. Let him, in choosing his play, follow the suggestions of nature. Let them not be discomposed at the sight of his sand hills in the road, his snow forts in February, and his mud dams in April: nor when they chance to look out in the midst of an August shower, and see him wading, and sailing, and sporting along with the water fowl. If they would make him hardy and fearless, they must let him go abroad as often as he pleases, in his early boyhood, and amuse himself by the hour together, in smoothing and twirling the hoary locks of winter. Instead of keeping him shut up all day with a stove, and graduating his sleeping room by Fahrenheit, they must let him face the keen edge of a north wind, when

the mercury is below cipher, and, instead of minding a little shivering and complaining when he returns, cheer up his spirits and send him out again. In this way, they will teach him that he was not born to live in a nursery, nor to brood over the fire; but to range abroad, as free as the snow and the air, and to gain warmth from exercise.

I love and admire the youth who turns not back from the howling wintry blast, nor withers under the blaze of summer; who never magnifies "mole-hills into mountains;" but whose daring eye, exulting, scales the eagle's airy crag, and who is ready to undertake any thing that is prudent and lawful, within the range of possibility. Who would think of planting the mountain oak in a green-house? or of rearing the cedar of Lebanon in a lady's flower-pot? Who does not know, that, in order to attain their mighty strength and majestic forms, they must freely enjoy the rain and the sunshine, and must feel the rocking of the tempest?

LESSON LXIV.

TO A SISTER, ON THE DEATH OF AN ONLY SON.

GENTLY, sister! thy beauteous child
Heeds not thy bitter weeping;
Not floods of tears, nor wailings wild,
Can move his silent sleeping:

Like passing dream his spirit came,
And ere it burned, expired the flame.

How sadly now his brilliant eye
With lifeless lid is shaded!

The death-drops on his forehead lie,
His ruddy cheek, — how faded !

But yet a smile is on thy boy,
As erst it gave his mother joy.

Thy heart alone its anguish knows,
Nor can thy grief be spoken;
That bitter moan too truly shows

That "golden bowl" is broken!
Nor would I quell affection's grief,
For 'tis the soul's most sweet relief.

Yet listen, sister! while I lave

The swelling tide of sorrow,
For rests thy babe within its grave
Ere sets the sun to-morrow;
And then, no more its form we see,
Till death shall call for thee and me.

Hast heard it told, when infants smile
In calm and tranquil slumbers,
That angels round them watch awhile,

And chant their heavenly numbers?
'Tis said, that in their sleep they hear
Soft tones, unknown to other ear.

Then, sister! hear the silent voice
Thine infant's smile is giving –
"O Mother! weep not, but rejoice;
Thy child in heaven is living:
I ne'er again can come to thee,
But soon thou'lt come from earth to me."

LESSON LXV.

A FINISHED EDUCATION.

"WELL," exclaimed a young lady, just returned from school, "my education is at last finished!-indeed, it would be strange, if, after five years' hard application, any thing were left incomplete. Happily, that is all over now; and I have nothing to do, but to exercise my various accomplishments.

"Let me see!-As to French, I am mistress of that, and speak it, if possible, with more fluency than English. Italian I can read with ease, and pronounce very well; as well, at least, as any of my friends; and that is all one need wish for in Italian. Music I have learned till I am perfectly sick of it. But, now

that we have a grand piano, it will be delightful to play when we have company; I must still continue to practise a little ;-the only thing, I think, that I need now improve myself in. And then there are my Italian songs! which every body allows I sing with taste; and as it is what so few people can pretend to, I am particularly glad that I can.

"My drawings are universally admired, — especially the shells and flowers, which are beautiful, certainly: besides this, I have a decided taste in all kinds of fancy ornaments. And then my dancing and waltzing, -in which our master himself owned that he could take me no farther;—just the figure for it, certainly; it would be unpardonable if I did not excel.

"As to common things, geography, and history, and poetry, and philosophy, thank my stars, I have got through them all! so that I may consider myself not only perfectly accomplished, but also thoroughly well informed. Well, to be sure, how much I have fagged through! -the only wonder is, that one head can contain it all!"

J