she has no time to keep at home; but then an education is everything, now-a-days, and I suppose I ought not to complain."

Are there not many mothers in our large towns, in the same perplexed and embarrassed position? And does it not seem as if school education was assuming an undue importance? Are not the girls of the family drawn too long and too much away from home influence, and domestic duties? Are not the wishes and the requirements of the parent made almost entirely subservient to the demands of the teacher? And are not our young girls apt to come out of this long training in school, with impaired health, weak, feeble and nervous? The study of French, Algebra, Latin, flower-making, drawing, &c., seem to comprehend in the minds of many," the getting an education," and the school and academy are regarded as the only suitable places for the accomplishment of this object. Young ladies are seldom at home, and have no time for home duties when they are. There is an influence in the family of higher authority than that of the parent, to which the parental must give way.

This, we cannot but regard as a serious and increasing evil. We fear that its results will prove greatly injurious in two ways; and first, to the neglect of a suitable domestic education for our girls. The studies of school are after all nothing but means to an end; their true object is to furnish that discipline which is to give solidity and compass to mind, and to prepare a woman to fulfill the allotments of her station with firmness and ability. If they accomplish this, their design is answered; but if, instead of the means, they become the end of youthful effort, new and unnatural obligations are imposed, and the duties of the child, the sister and the member of a family, are lost in the duties of the pupil and member of the school. Study, school study and book studies are the only things to be done; the lessons must be learned, let what will come; and this, year in and year out, one year after another, for a long series; and the consequence is, young girls know nothing of home duties, they care but little. about them, and gradually acquire the habit of regarding them as quite mean and distasteful; beside, there is none of the stimulus of competition, reward and position in the discharge of home duties, as in the school; there are not a great many looking on

with envy or admiration. But after all the improvements, acquirements and progress, which we fancy the present generation has made, it is still true, that the sphere of the female is at home; and an ignorance of her duties there, brings discredit and unhappiness to herself, and discomfort and sorrow to her family. When is the best season for learning these duties? It must be in youth; they must form a portion of every day's striving and learning; they must be nourished in our daily habits. It is the child which must be taught to take care of its chamber and its drawers, to bear and forbear with its little brother, to come in with its young energies to the help of mother, and to feel the importance of sewing in the manufacture of its own garments. Years of book knowledge cannot supply a deficiency here, when the child itself becomes a wife and mother. Teaching the little girl wisely and skilfully to do, in the minute arrangements of its little circle, is of incalculable advantage. She must in some measure know how to use her hands, as well as her head, if she would act skilfully herself, or wisely direct others.

In the second place, this over much going to school causes our girls to live too much in the masses; they become so much accustomed to the excitement and strife of numbers, that the retiredness of home is distasteful to them. "It is so dull, here," they say. An unnatural taste for society is fostered, and unless there is company, or the expectation of company, they are apt to be listless and indifferent. It is the quiet and stillness of home, which are most favorable to habits of thought and reflection. In our earlier days, two quarters a year was the extent of our school privileges; and how well do we remember the hours spent alone in the garden, the chamber, or in the sitting-room, keeping house while mother was out; and during those hours of solitude, how we digested the words and counsels dropped from our elders; how we lived over and over the historic scenes, which we had read; what opportunity we had to invent, to imitate and to perfect. It was during those hours, that the instructions already given to us produced their deep and abiding impressions, and became the germs of all we hold most valuable in thought and purpose during our later life.

No one now-a-days is supposed to undervalue the excellence and

number of our schools; but may not the question be started, Is there not too much going to school? Are the girls at home enough? Home is the place to cultivate those quiet and retiring manners, and that sweetness and simplicity of character, which most adorn a woman.

Portsmouth, N. H., Jan., 1849.

LAMENT FOR MY LITTLE BOY.

BY WM. MAGEE, GREENOCH, SCOTLAND.

OH! I have lost my lovely boy,
My only earthly treasure,
A secret source of mental joy,

A fount of sweetest pleasure;
When lulled to rest with kissing fain,
And nestling in my bosom,

I dreamed I saw myself again,
Like some fair tree in blossom.

Oh, how I fear the coming Spring,
Its flowers and all its gladness,
Aware to me 't will only bring
Reflections full of sadness.

The yorlin's notes of joy once full,
Of joy will be divested;
The buttercups he loved to pull,
Will glitter unmolested.

I long to lead him o'er the lea,

When leaves begin to rustle,

To see the butterfly and bee

Float round the blooming thistle ;
The fox-glove bells in moorland dells,
The violets by the fountain,

Were what, for him, I longed to climb
The heathy purple mountain.

The cap which graced his snowy brow

Is on the wall suspended;

His little chair is vacant now,

His little dog unfriended;

His twirling top and bouncing ball,

His picture book and rattle,

With many a smothered sigh recal

His joyous looks and prattle.

And now beneath the green sod laid,
My lovely cherub slumbers,
While o'er his cold and lowly bed

I weave these homely numbers;
But till I brook death's fatal dart,
And all my feelings perish,
Within the temple of my heart
His image I will cherish.

THE GOOD WIFE.

How much of this world's happiness and prosperity is contained in the compass of these two short words! Her influence is immense. The power of a wife, for good or evil, is altogether irresistible. Home must be the seat of happiness, or it must be forever unknown. A good wife is to a man, wisdom, courage, strength, hope and endurance. A bad one is confusion, weakness, discomfiture and despair. No condition is hopeless, when the wife possesses firmness, decision, energy, and economy. There is no outward prosperity which can counteract indolence, folly and extravagance at home. No spirit can long resist bad domestic influence. Man is strong, but his heart is not adamant. He delights in enterprise and action; but to sustain him he needs a tranquil mind and a whole heart. He expends his whole moral force in the conflicts of the world. His feelings are lacerated to the utmost point of endurance by perpetual collision, irritations and disappointment. To recover his equanimity and composure, home must be to him a place of repose, of peace, of cheerfulness, of comfort, and his soul renews its strength, and again goes forth with fresh vigor to encounter the labor and troubles of the world. But if at home he finds no rest, and there is met with bad temper, sullenness or gloom, or is assailed by discontent, complaint and reproaches, the heart breaks, the spirits are crushed, hope vanishes, and the man sinks in total despair.

WHAT you keep by you, you may change and mend;
But words once spoken cannot be recalled.

Roscommon.

SCHOOL DAYS.

FROM "THE WREATH OF SCHOOL SONGS," BY PERMISSION.