NUMBER XV.

TRUTHS SAID OF BOYS, WHICH BOYS WILL NE'ER BELIEVE.

OUR life is beset with perils at every step, but no period of it is, perhaps, quite so perilous as that, in which the boy is stepping into manhood. Then it is that his feeling is fervid, his hope vivid, and his self-confidence at the highest. Then it is,

that he listens with most rapture to the voice of the siren, that his heart is most susceptible to the allurements of pleasure; and it is then, that he spurns alike the trammels of restraint, and the counsels of friendship.

He

Untaught by experience, he despises the experience of others; wise in his own conceit, he scorns the monitions of age and riper judgment; full of himself, he perceives no need of direction or advice, and regards it as an insult to his understanding. feels a sentiment of indignation and disdain toward those, who should presume to teach him how to behave. His sense is deceived, "his soul is in a dream, he is fully confident that he

sees things clearly, and yet he sees them in a false mirror, exactly such as they are not."

Nor is it, always, the youth of the least promise, that are in the most danger. So far otherwise, those of forward parts, of lively imaginations, and of strong passions withal, are in peculiar hazard during those green years, in which is the critical period of transition from the condition of boys to that of men. The very qualities, that distinguish them and set them above their fellows, diminish the likelihood of their establishing a sober staidness of character, and, ofttimes, are the means of launching them into the whirlpool of dissipation, where all is lost; where reputation, morals, and whatever is estimable in human beings, are all ingulfed together.

How many instances do the perilous times, we live in, furnish-how many deplorable instances of hopeful boys, abandoned and lost ere they were out of their teens! And by how much the more their parents had doted upon them, by so much the more are their hearts wrung with anguish.

Far less is the danger, for the most part, while the immature youth remains under the parental roof, or in "the well-ordered home." There he finds it not so easy to shake off salutary restraints; there he needs must feel some respect for the opinion of the society, in whose bosom he was born and educated, some reverence of parental authority, and some regard to the feelings of near kindred. But when he leaves the haven of home, and is pushed off into the stream of life, it is more than an even chance that he will founder in the stream, if he have not previously been under the governance of moral and religious principle. In his new situation it often happens, that he finds new enticements to lead

him astray, and, at the same time, feels himself loosened from the authority and influences which had, heretofore, repressed his wayward propensities; and if vicious, but genteel and artful companions get the first hold of him, his ruin is, in all probability, sealed.

It was in clear view of these affecting circumstances, that the celestial poet, Cowper, penned the following lines :

'My boy, the unwelcome hour has come,

When thou, transplanted from thy genial home,
Must find a colder soil and bleaker air,

And trust for safety to a stranger's care."

It is hard to mourn over the death, but it is, sometimes, still harder to mourn over the life of a beloved child. When parents see the one who, they had expected, would be found the solace of their age, the honor of their family, and an ornament to society when they see him, at the instant of their highest hopes, turn to the ways of folly; no heart but a heart thus exercised, can conceive the sharpness of the pang. This is sorrow indeed; and that the best they can do to prevent it, or, rather, all they can do, is to lay themselves out, in good earnest, to train up their children in the way they should go.

Good education is the thing in the world, the most important and desirable, but it is of wider scope than most people imagine. What is called learning, is only a part of it, and so far from being the most essential part, it is but the husk. In vain will you employ your endeavors to educate your children, unless you give seed to the heart, as well as culture to the understanding; unless you make their moral frame, the subject of

your assiduous and well-directed care; unless you take, at least, as much pains to make them well-principled and of virtuous manners, as to make them shine in learning and accomplishments: for intellectual improvement, if their morals be neglected, will tend to render them wise only to do evil. If you train up your boy to a strict regard to truth, honesty, and integrity, and to a deep reverence for all that is sacred; if you train him up in habits of industry, temperance, and love of order ;—it is then, and only then, you can reasonably expect, that he will pass through the perilous crisis before him uncontaminated, and that his manhood will be crowned with honor.

THE man, who expresses or feels a general contempt of womankind, evinces thereby, either that his acquaintance has been mostly with the baser sort, or that his heart is devoid of the common sensibilities of our nature. A satire upon Woman! It is revolting; it is dastardly and brutish. Individuals are deserving of the lash of satire, but not the species. Of women, as well as of men, there are the artful and treacherous, the unfeeling and cruel, the mischievous, the disgusting, the abominable. The sex, nevertheless, is entitled to a high degree of respect, esteem and love.

Of one, in the dark ages, who was the gloomiest of bigots, and the most ruthless of persecutors, it is recorded that "he never looked in the face of a woman, or spoke to one."