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In such cases, the blood and the nervous influ- has not got any thing the matter with him that ence which are needed in other parts of the sys- takes the taste of this world out?'' tem, are spent on the over-acted brain.

In middle age, the organ of the thinking powers cess may, indeed, be so great as sadly to impair has a determinate structure--the consistency of the organ of the mind. Students often suffer manly development. It is then more abundantly extremely in consequence of undue application supplied with blood than any other organ in the to their books. Their minds become confused, whole body. It has a strength corresponding in and they leave their rooms in discouragement. some manner to the strength which the mind has But, after spending some time exercising their acquired. But suitable and sufficient mental oclimbs and lungs in the free air, they become pre- cupation is still indispensable to the continuance pared again for successful mental work. The of the health of this organ. The limbs of a man change of occupation gives the brain time for re- will become diseased unless he frequently uses cuperation, and the system time to provide a them; and, in respect to exercise, as with a man's fresh supply of decarbonized blood to be a stim-limbs, so with his brain. See how herqism beulus to renewed cerebral action.

came peevish, despondent, and weak on lonely St. In infancy the brain is little more than a mass Helena island, where it was doomed to remain, of pulp. It is then in a very imperfect state. The having no adequate incentives to mental exeroperations of the mind, if not precociously intense, tion! Dr. Young relates, that on one occasion, tend to give it that motion or exercise which pre-while he was taking a stroll with Dean Swift, the vents disease. It becomes, at length, the brain Dean staid behind the company, and was found of youth. It is then more solid than it was, but gazing intently at the top of a lofty elm, the head less solid than it will be. "Youth,” says Roche- of which had been blasted by a thunderbolt. “I foucault, “is continual intoxication. It is the shall be like that tree," said Swift; “I shall die fever of reason.” This beautiful fever-the re- first at the top." How many men and women sult of the mysterious connection between the have died first at the top! The indolent person growing mind and the growing brain-gradually can not have a healthy brain, nor can the prispasses away. Any thing like sad thoughtfulness oner. Who ever lived long without scope for is unfitting to a boy. We look, in boys, for light- mental activity? If Paul, instead of being senness of spirits. A melancholy lad is a spectacle tenced to decapitation, had been condemned to from which the philosopher turns off his eyes with close confinement, for the residue of his life, in a sigh. He knows that the little fellow's mind has the Mammertine at Rome, it were unphilosophic become too much for his brain. I do not like to think he would have lived a great while. When the fondness for books which is manifested by the mind either renounces vigorous employment some children, making them bright-eyed objects or is deprived of it, then the brain begins to de of special praise to their fathers and mothers. cay. Do you look for instances of extraordinary It is the sadder class of such juvenile thinkers longevity among the beggars of the world? Do that Mr. Holmes, in one of his breakfast-table you find the aristocracy that values the cushion papers, likens to “beautiful, blushing, half-grown of ease more highly than the hard seat of thought, fruit that falls before its time because its core is to be physically very tenacious of life? He that gnawed out.” A boy is not in his best health un- has a feeble mind has a feeble brain; and he less he has the fever of reason. “Here,” says that has a mighty mind, but does not exert it, is the inimitable Professor, “is a boy that loves to like the gloomy tree to which Swift pointed-he run, swim, kick foot-balls, turn somersets, make has begun to die in his head! faces, whittle, fish, tear his clothes, coast, shoot, Many persons, by abruptly and unphilosophicfirecrackers, blow squash “tooters,' cut his ally retiring from business, impair their brains name on fences, read about Robinson Crusoe and and abridge their lives. When a man goes among Sinbad the Sailor, eat the widest angled slices of the roses, saying to himself, “Long time hare I pie and untold cakes and candies, crack nuts worked; henceforth I shall rest,” then the roses with his back teeth and bite out the better part and the soft wind which caresses them become of another boy's apple with his front ones, turn unfriendly to him. He tires of nature. He lauup coppers, stick' knives, call names, throw guishes in the daylight and moans in the darkstones, knock off hats, set mouse-traps, chalk ness. Now he is fretful, and door-steps, “cut behind' any thing on wheels or

Now drooping, woeful man like one forlorn, runners, whistle through his teeth, ‘holler' fire!

Or crazed with care, or cross’d in hopeless lore." on slight evidence, run after soldiers, patronize an engine company, or, in his own words, 'blow There is a disease called hypochondriasis. It for tub No. 11,' or whatever it may be-is is sometimes represented as a disorder of the sennot that a pretty nice sort of a boy, though he , sibilities. That it is attended by such disorder,

no one can reasonably doubt. Its chief symptom once wrested a pistol from the hand of his own is a woeful despondence. “Sometimes,” said one bro er, while that brother was in the act of of Richard Cecil's friends, who seems to have been shooting him. He found the pistol doubly afflicted with this malady—“sometimes such deep charged with bullets. So shocked were his sendepression seizes me, that I can scarcely bear sibilities by what his eyes bad beheld, that with myself; sometimes such irritability, and at others horror and disgust he ever afterward kept himsuch terror that I feel as if my senses were self secluded from human society, not allowing going.”

even his own children to visit him. * The sufferer from hypochondriasis can not tell Every severe affliction necessarily infects the the wretchedness which all day long wastes his brain, unless it is counteracted by temperament, spirits and exhausts his desire of 1.. In Shak- by resoluteness, or by diversion. The disappointspeare's phrase, "he receives comfort like cold ed lover experiences, for a time, the misery of porridge.” No words you can say to him in the hypochondriac. But if he timely learns to respect to his experience, will afford him the suffer and be strong, his brain will not become slightest relief. By conversing with him on his sick from his disheartenment. It is well that melancholy, you feed it. Hence, it was Dr. John when our sensibilities are lacerated, we can, in a son's advice to Boswell, who, as well as the Doc- measure, prevent those swells of emotion which tor himself, suffered much from morbid dejection, would keep the wound unhealed. But, alas! how never to speak of it, either to his friends or in few sufferers from the cause jast mentioned are company.

disposed to act the part of physicians to their It is no trivial part of the misery of the hypo- own torn and bleeding hearts! There are gentle chondriac, that he thinks his own case go far from hypochondriacs, deceived young women, who, like either any match in deplorableness, or any worse Stella and Vanessa, fade, languish, and die, in instance of painsul and gloomy decline. “I have the forenoon of life. They pass out of the world, known a father," says Dr. Brigham, “in whom I softly; and people suppose the cause of their could discover no disease, regardless of the sick early decline and death to be chiefly physical. ness and approaching death of a child, constantly But 0, what pain of soul wore away the health saying that his own case was more severe and of those cheerless maidens! How, in the twialarming.”

light of the sunny day, did each one of them sit I think that the dreadful tenacity of the dis or wander, miserable and alone! And how did ease we are considering can be adequately ex each one of them sigh amid the flowers which plained only by supposing that the brain itself brought to mind the blissful beginnings of her that great center from which issue the telegraphic early but ill-fated love, her long-continued but wires of the will-has, for a considerable period misplaced confidence! of time, been diseased. This opinion corresponds I know I should speak with too much austerwith the declarations of eminent physicians. “The ity, were I to say that the fair-haired, youthful disease," says Dr. Dunglison, “is unquestionably woman who allows herself to become melanencephalic, and it is in the encephalon that we choly and sickly, in consequence of unreturned ought to look for the morbid appearances.” affection, is weak of intellect. Of what avail to

The cause of the malady may, perhaps, be many a fading maiden, deserted by the one on found in some long-nursed grief, or in some sud whom she has lavished her wealth of fond feelden shock received by the finer feelings of the ings, would be the advice to repair, by resolutesoul. But, in the greater number of instances, ness, by diversion, or by some other means, her it may undoubtedly be found in a defect of men broken heart? Of what avail to Vanessa was tal exercise. It is easy to become a hypochon- Swift's warning against her determination to sedriac. Say to yourself that you have done work clude herself from the world, and his anxious enenough, then retire from the scenes amid which deavors to persuade that sorrowing girl to seek you have for years been busy and hale, then try society and divert her mind in every way she to pasture your everlasting nature on the pleas-could? Woman's heart is not like man's. ures of eating, drinking, chatting, loitering, and

“You ne'er kept watch sleeping, and the awful malady which destroys Beside him, till the last pale star had set, the love of life will diffuse its poison through And morn, all dazzling, as in triumph broke four brain. Or, cultivate for a considerable time on your din, weary eye; not yours the face, any one of the sorrows which depress you, and Which, enrly faded through fond care for him, that sorrow will draw evil blood to the seat of Hung o'er his sleep, and duly as heaven's light your mind, and will impair the battery from which

Was there to greet his wakening! You ne'er smoothed issue the wires of your will. I find on record the instance of a generous and fine Englishman who

See Upham's Montal Philosophy.



His couch; ne'er sung him to his rosy rest;

actions of life; for, if it check once with business, Caught his least whisper, when his voioe from yours it troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh men that Had learned soft utterance; pressed your lip to his,

they can no ways be true to their own ends." When fever parched it; hushed his wayward cries,

I find it meet to close, here, the present article. With patient, vigilant, never-wearied lope! No! these are woman's tasks!"

It is, surely, not without some abruptness that

this sequel is made; but I make it with the promWoman finds it the most difficult of all things to ise to finish the discussion at some future time. wean her faithful passion from its long-cherished and long-trusted object, how fickle soever or how treacherous soever that object may have proved.

TOO HOT FOR CHURCH. Ah, what fidelity is hers! What grief is that

A STORY FOR CHILDREN. with which she continues to live over the hours of the doomed attachment which once made her evenings so charming and her mornings so beau- T was a very hot morning, certainly, but any tiful!

Of course, I do not mean to include, here, un- Howard was, might have discovered a pleasant der the name of woman, those butterflies of the little breeze, whispering among the leaves of the gentler sex, who are too vain to be devotedly at- fine row of elm trees, which shaded the lane tached to any object other than self. A great through which she was passing. But as we have many women are only fashionable ladies. | before hinted, Belle was cross, and so she tugged Though they should be disappointed half a score at her bonnet-strings till she had gotten them of times in love, they would still be nothing but into a hard knot, and after dropping her books, fashionable ladies. The truth is, one that is and stooping to pick them up a few times, she merely a lady of fashion is incapable of womanly arrived at her father's gate, with a face something love. But there are women who are richly capa- the color of one of the scarlet peonies which ble of a tender and noble passion which can not grew just inside of it; and with such pouting lips easily be broken up, and which absence alone has that her brother Joe said "a fellow could almost no power to destroy. By an exquisite and inef hang his hat upon

them." fable experience of the heart, they realize the “What is the matter, my daughter?'' said Mrs. truth of Rochefoucault's admirable saying, that Howard, who, with her husband and son, was just "absence destroys small passions, and increases coming out to go to Church, "what bave you great ones; as the wind extinguishes tapers, and come home for? and with such a face too?'' kindles fires." Not many such women allow “Why, mamma!” exclaimed Belle, pettishly, “it themselves to become passionate and devoted was too hot to stay at Church, and it was hot in lovers more than once. One of this class who Sunday school; I hate them both, in summer-time, has been deserted by the object of her fond árdor, and I do n't mean to go any more till fall.” or from whom death has separated the manly “Hush, hush," said her mother, "what nonsense heart which faithfully reciprocated her feelings, you are saying about what you mean to do, but either dies in despair, or throws out her mental you are certainly not in a fit humor just now to faculties in unwonted activity. If she nurses her go into God's house; so take off your things and grief, at the expense of her health and life, who get cool, and let us have a pleasanter countecan frigidly pronounce her weak-minded? If, on nance to look upon when we return." the contrary, she sternly says to her heart, "Peace, It did not take Belle a very long time to get be still!" and with courage resolves to live down cool either in body or mind; for after bathing her her sorrow, and become happy again, who can face and smoothing her tumbled hair, she took fail to deem this the wiser course? Certainly, no her library book and seating herself on the shady philosophic counselor, who knows how large a piazza, was soon lost in the enjoyment of the number of beautiful and gentle females depart pretty story which it contained. A pleasant hour too early from the world, in consequence of dis- | had nearly passed in this way, when & cheerful appointments of the kind I am discussing, would voice at her side caused her to look up, and with do well to advise grieved lovers to let themselves an exclamation of pleasure she discovered her fade and pass away, so long as it is possible for uncle, Dr. Graham, standing beside her. them

“Well, Puss, what's the matter? too sick for " To suffer and be strong."

Church, eh? want some medicine, eh? put out your tongue, let's feel

your pulse." "They do best,” says Lord Bacon, “who, if they “O, no, no, uncle,” said Belle, blushing and can not but admit love, yet make it keep quarter, laughing together; “I believe it was only a st and sever it wholly from their serious affairs and of ill-humor; I got very warm in Sunday scheel

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bright smile of welcome was upon her own as he BY LIZZIE MACE M'FARLAND.

entered the room. EV. MOSES STONE was born in Watertown, cheerfully. “My little niece and I have come to

"Good morning, my child," said the Doctor, RE

Massachusetts, August 10, 1777. In those days the people were farmers, though living in

see if you can bear this warm weather without the shadow of Boston. Such were his father, grumbling; we find it very hard to do so.” grandfather, and great-grandfather-all of whom

“O, sir,” replied Mary, "I am sure I ought not were living till he became old enough to be des

to grumble at any thing, while you and others are ignated as Moses Fourth," it having been the

so kind to me; but I did think, when I heard the custom in his family, so far back as their gene would be to me, if I could only take my old sent

bells ringing this morning, what a blessing it alogy can be traced, to name the oldest son Mo- in Church once more; it has been almost our

The old farm included the greater part of the far-famed Mount Auburn, and Moses Fourth, this cold, hard winter, looking forward to the

only comfort, sir, mother's and mine, through when a little boy, often drove his cows to the “hill-pasture," as Mount Auburn was then called

Sunday school and Church every week.” by the family. From their proximity to Harvard Doctor, " for most persons who work hard sis

"I am glad to hear you say so, Mary,' said the to me this murhung: was inê gehutfither to the lady took a seat near her pupil. "I had days in the week, think the seventh should be good night's rest,” she continued after a pau. that enjoyment conflicts with the laws of God or

spent by them in their own enjoyment, whether “God sent his angel to take care of me throug the darkness, and no evil came near my be not; but happy are those whose pleasure consists When I awoke the bright daylight was shinir

in doing the will of their Father in heaven." into my room, and I felt refreshed in body ar

“I am sure, sir," said Mary, modestly, “mother mind after my pleasant sleep. Is not Emn

and I could not have any greater enjoyment, than glad to see me well?''

in listening to the sweet singing at Church. My cali 11, . bench when the nlond nassed a teacher says the music of heaven will be far what better use could they devote those beautiful sweeter than that-do n't you think I shall hear voices which He has given them? Is it not it soon, Doctor ?" strange that here in this pleasant garden, where The suddenness of this question quite startled the flowers are offering up the incense of their Dr. Graham. From the first he had feared a fragrant breaths, and even the young birds are fatal result to poor Mary, from the bad nature of caroling sweet hymns, that the silent voice of a her accident, but not anticipating immediate little Christian child can be found? one who will danger, he had carefully avoided any allusion to willingly yield up her place in God's sanctuary the possibility of death, and even now, when he because the weather does not suit her?”

discovered that for her death had no sting, he O, uncle,” cried Belle, "please do not speak thought it best to remove her thoughts from the of it again; I am sufficiently ashamed of my ill subject, and with some kind, soothing reply, he humor already."

rose to go. Belle lingered behind a moment to “Well then, Puss," said Dr. Graham, "get get Mary's library book, which she had promised your bonnet and come with me; I have a patient to exchange for her in the afternoon, and then to see this morning, whom it will do you no harm joined her uncle with her heart almost too full to visit even upon the Lord's day.”

for utterance. Dr. Graham wisely made no comAs they walked along, Dr. Graham briefly re ments on poor Mary's love for Church, leaving lated to his young companion the circumstances Belle to apply it to her own case as her conwhich had placed Mary Mills under his care. science might direct. They reached home just as She was a poor girl who 'worked in the factory' the Howard family returned from Church, and at the other end of the village, and had met with brother Joe could vot resist a few jokes upon the a sad accident a few days before, by having her improved appearance of his little sister's counleg broken; it was caught in some of the ma-tenance, which she bore with a good humor, which chinery and snapped in two places before it could proved the natural amiability of her disposition. be extricated. As they opened the gate in front Dinner being over, during which Belle had given of the little cottage, a sweet, faint voice was them a glowing description of poor Mary's sufferheard, singing,

ings and piety, she set off with a light heart for

Sunday school; after which, there being no afterI have been there, and still would go; 'Tis liko a little heaven below.”

noon service, Joe accompanied her to Mrs. Mills's

cottage, that Mary might enjoy her new library Bit at that moment, through the open window, book as soon as possible. And now I might go Is vry caught sight of the Doctor's face, and a on and tell you of the daily visits which Belle



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paid after school to Mary's cottage, and of the actions of life; for, if it check once with business, flowers and little delicacies which her kind mother it troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh men that prepared for her to take to her sick friend, but they can no ways be true to their own ends." time fails me, and I can only tell you that as

I find it meet to close, here, the present article. Mary ripened for heaven, so did our little Belle

It is, surely, not without some abruptness that seem to grow in grace, and drink deep draughts this sequel is made; but I make it with the promfrom the same fountain of love and wisdom which ise to finish the discussion at some future time. cheered the path of the dying girl. Another hot, Sunday, so hot that the very leaves had ceased to rustle; but Belle Howard thought not of the

TOO HOT FOR CHURCH. weather-she was hastening with Mary's library, book to read beside her bed; but just beneath the shade of an old elm-tree she met her uncle, who, tenderly putting his arm around her, said, “Come back, dear Puss, for Mary's name is en

T was a very hot morning, certainly, but any IT

one not in such a fretful mood as little Belle tered on the Book of Life."

Howard was, might have discovered a pleasant Belle sank upon the bench, and a gush of warm

little breeze, whispering among the leaves of the tears came to her relief, then looking up she said,

fine row of elm trees, which shaded the lane “Now, uncle, tell me when she died.”

through which she was passing. But as we have " This morning, as the bells were ringing for

before hinted, Belle was cross, and so she tugred the service she loved so much," replied Dr. Gra

at her bonnet-strings till she had gotten them ham. “Her mother told me when they ceased she

into a hard knot, and after dropping her books, lay quite still, apparently listening, then with

and stooping to pick them up a few times, she great energy she exclaimed, “Hark! I hear them;

arrived at her father's gate, with a face something O, how sweet! Her mother thought she fancied

the color of one of the scarlet peonies which she heard the singing at Church, and said, 'O,

grew just inside of it: ' my daughter, you can not hear them so far off.' But one glance at Mary's face told the be

LITTLE ISADORE reaved mother that her child did hear them, that choir of angels which she had gone to join. And now, Belle," continued Dr. Graham, “we SWEET as bird-notes in the spring-time have here another instance of how even the hum

When the winter's o'er, blest of God's creatures can glorify him in their

Was the voice of one we cherished

Little Isadore.
lives; and you and I will cherish among our ho-
liest memories the recollection of Mary Mills, the In her soul was that mild beauty
poor factory girl."

Angels might adore,
And she smiled so sweetly on us

Lovely Isadore.

But her brow grew pale and paler,

And we saw no more

On her cheek its blooming beauty,

Fading Isadore.
The summer winds, over the hill-tops sweeping;

Then she talked to us so sweetly The low murmur of the little stream,

Of a sun-bright shore, Where, 'mid the rocks, its shallow waters creeping

Where the angels waited for her-
Make pleasant music, 'neath the sun's glad gleam;

Happy Inndore.
The lazy waving of the misty shadows
That hover o’er the outspread grass;

Then there came an icy coldness

She ne'er felt before,
The blushing clover nodding in the meadows;
The swift, white clouds that o'or the blue sky pass;

And we knew that she was going

Dying Isadore. The silvery outline of the far-off river;

Flowers now are brightly blooming, The willow-trees, bowing in the silent air;

Brightly blooming o'er The stately woodland, where the bird's notes quiver,

The lone grave where calmly restoth All these dreamy days, so wondrously fair

Sleeping Isadore. Have filled my soul with music filled to overflowing,

Crowned my life with beauty, all the summer long, She has gone, but o'er the river And out toward its Maker my happy spirit going

On that better shore “ Praise Him! praise Him ever!" is the burden of By the throne of God sbe dwellothits song.

Angel Isadore.


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