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i tt our prisons and our houses of correction contain
mulreds of criminals, whose tender years proclaim
, iiem fit subjects for the maternal leading strings;
t lU t who, from being children became dissipated
■ ((Ung me n, without any blessed interval of boy
iiood, that season of physical, mental and social de
velopment, which cannot be forfeited without fear
ful injury.
Jf any one is disposed to say, in reply to this, The
jj 0 f which you complain is a natural result of the
progressive spirit of the age, we must de iy the pos
ition for Nature is never untrue to herself, and just
certainly as she does not mature the fruit of the
vine or the grain of the field without the full time
m d the whole process of growth, so certainly she
does not grow men and women without the full pe
riod of intervening progress.
The fault of the age is a sad misconception of the
importance of boyhood and girlhood to the proper
maturity of men and women. Men should not be
made too hastily ; for if so, they are never well
made. N T or should girls be allowed to consider them
iVelves women at so early an age as is common, for
the consequences are ruinous to them in every as
pect. We plead for an extension of the period of
boyhood and girlhood. We plead for it by all the
considerations of present and future happiness to the
voung. What more lamentable sight is there, than
to see boys and girls burdened in their teens with
the cares, the labors, the responsibilities of men and
women, having forgone all the delight, all the joy
ousness, all the advantages of early youth'l Fatal
mistake! to send boys to College at thirteen, and to
suffer girls to “ finish their education” at fifteen or
sixteen, and then at once to enter upon the great
duty of life, which is—matrimony ! Parents, you
wrong your children by robbing them of their boy
hood. Rather should you strive to bind their young
hearts to all the charms and pleasures of that sunny
period— developing slowly and with care, every phys
ical power —every mental faculty, and, above all, the
affections of the heart.
Let us not be misunderstood. We are pleading
for a more natural growth of men and women. We
deprecate the hot-bed forcing process of the present
day. It is fatal, we say, to the happiness and use
fulness of its victims. The physical frame is weak
ened —the intellect stunted —the affections pervert
ed—the man spoiled by it.
We meant —but have not space —to speak of the
sports of boyhood, those happy, delightful recrea
tions which are now unwisely displaced by imita
tions of mature life. Our boys are little men —our
girls little women. The guilelessness, the joyous
ness, the abandon of boyhood are unknown among
us. T ( he evil is a serious one —and we have but
feebly uttered our views of it. “W ould that they
were worthier of the theme.
©ur CKosstp Column.
We have a few words to say, in a very familiar
way, to a. class that's exceedingly numerous, if in
deed they will humor ns, and since we seek only
their good, they certa’nly should! We mean, as
our title will clearly exhibit, the class of young wri
ters who scribble ad libit-mn, and not contented
■with wasting good paper, mistake for the genuine
afflatus more vapor; and instead of putting their
rhymes in the fire, to put them in print is what they
dosire. Wc doubt not all these young rhymesters
think, that they are permitted at pleasure to drink,
from the pu: e fount of Castaly, and thenceforward
hastily, their pitchers to bring, back from the
spring, to ] our out their treasure, without any mea
sure, and trustingly hope that their name will he
linked in the future to Fame. Now, we have a
strange sort of suspicion, that these writers mistake
their position, and that so far from drinking at Cas
taly’s fountain, or climbing the mountain, Parnas
sus, we fear it. is true they have never been near it.
The ays divina is not so free, that every one at will
can be a master of the tuneful string, and all around
the witchery fling of Poetry. No! no! sirree. —
Remember what old Horace writ — Pacta nascitur
non fit; and if the herd of poetasters —more fitly
Written paper icasters —are sons and daughters of
Apollo, that deity beats Malt bus hollow, for all
their tribe could not be numbered, in all the vears
teat Rip Van Winkle slumbered.
It is not poetry to roll the eyes, and cast them up
ward to the skies ■ then scratch a sheet of paper over,
with the wild d-earnings of a lover. Nor is it poe
try to cut your li,es to six by eights or seven by
tunes— assume a capital to each one, and so with
j alse show overreach one Since then the poet is
:k c h Id of Na'u e, ad few can reach his lofty stat
ttre don’t make yourselves, we wou’t say ■, by
? rasping what your power surpasses. If you must
~ cribble, stick to prose —a style that everybody
knows; for even nonsense without measure, will
fiivo some hones; readers pleasure; but done in stan
za3 > nauseous stuff, the dullest reader cries “E
----t*ou gh!” The Boston papers contain glow
ing accounts of the recent public celebration at the
production of pure water into the Tremont City.
1 day was exceedingly fine, and an immensecon
®°urße 01 people witnessed the advent of the long-de
@ tiasis in &ait &is & & ¥ ©as b inns*
sired blessing. The Boston Common is a noble the
atre for such a display-, and it must have been a bril
liant spectacle The worthy Mayor having inform
ed the mighty multitude that it was proposed to ad
mit the waters of Lake Cocliituate into the city-,
called upon all who were iu favor of it to say ‘ Aye.*
As may be supposed, the response was like the sound
of many waters, and immediately there gushed from
the fountain a column of pure, bright water, to the
height of seventy-five feet. Immense numbers of
school-children then raised their voices in a hyftin of
welcome, of which we have only room for the first
stanza:
“ My name is Water : I have sped
Through strange dark ways, untried before,
By pure desires of Friendship led—-
Cochituate’s ambassador ;
He sends four royal gifts by me—
Long life, health, peace aad purity!”
We heartily congratulate the good people of Bos
ton on this happy consummation of their wishes,
and earnestly hope that their beautiful city may re
alize the full enjoyment of the “four royal gifts” of
Lake Cochituate By later advices from
England, we learn that the sentence of death had
not been executed upon Smith O’Brien at the time
expected; and we think there are gratifying indica
tions of royal clemency towards the condemned. —
We trust the Government may find it consistent to
spare his life, if, for example’s sake, it must deprive
him of what is next dear —his liberty’ The
Literary JVorld gives us a racy sketch of the recent
sale of a portion of the private library of “ dear, de
lightful Elia.” Keese, that prince of Book Auc
tioneers, who is scarcely less famous than George
Robbins, of London, held the hammer, and doubt
less felt no common degree of interest m the per
formance of his extraordinary duty. The volumes
bore evidence of age and of use, and had they not
belonged to Lamb would have been consigned to
fome old book-stall to moulder or be sold for a song
As it was, dilapidated and imperfect volumes brought
prices ranging from three to twenty-five dollars,
which latter sum was paid for a black-letter copy of
Chaucer. About that book there cluster many
pleasant associations. Its beloved owner bought it
for a small sum (about seventy-five cents.) at a Lon
don stall, where it lay unnoticed by the common eye.
It was a strange freak of fortune that brought a con
siderable portion of Charles Lamb’s library to he
sold at an American Auction ! .... Letters Pat
ent were granted, on the 17th ultimo, to our towns
man, Kikby Spencer, M. D. for an improvement in
Dental Instruments. We have seen the instrument
invented by Dr Spencer, and do not hesitate to pro
nounce it both highly ingenious and valuable.
Notices to Correspondents.
J. A. S. —Your sketch wiU appear in our next is
sue.
L. F. —It is not worth while to renew the experi
ment.
Alton. —The ‘Sonnet’ shall have a place very
early.
S. E. T.—Your verses are among the “ac
cepted.”
T. S. C. —Yours are not.
Peter Schlemil, Jr —We think it will hardly
do to print your reply to Miss Jerusha. The young
ladies would be offended. We will quote four lines
of your letter, however, for justice’ sake, and then
let the matter drop :
If the ladies in wearing the jacket persist,
We shall know where their ambition reaches;
It is clear as a sunbeam, I strongly insist,
They would, if they dared, wear the— pantaloons. •
E. —Your favor came too late for attention this
week. You shall hear from us shortly.
STfje American sertotrfcal 3?rcss.
The Union Magazine, for November.
The embellishments of this issue are excellent,
and bespeak a determination on the part of the Pub
lishers to be in the front rank of illustrated maga
zines. Mrs. Kirkland, its accomplished Editor, has
returned from Europe, and is again at her post.
The Knickerbocker, for November.
The St. Leger Papers, and The Stone House on
the Susquehanna, are continued iu this number.
The miscellany is varied, and the Editor’s tabjefull
as usual.
The Southern Literary Messenger, for No
vember.
Mr. Poe continues the ‘ Rationale of Verse,’ and
is out against English hexameters without mercy,
lie thinks ‘Evangeline’ ‘very respectable prose,’
and nothing else. ‘Tis easy to find fault, wc know.
Can you do better, Mr. Poo 1
At, interesting paper on the Mormons—The Game
Fish of N. America —and the Rector’s Daughter, a
Tale —constitute the chief attractions of the num
ber. The worthy publisher promises au entirely
new dress for the Messenger next year.
The Thursday Sketchier, Somersworth, N. U.
Under this name wc have been receiving for
months a very little, but a very pleasant paper; and
now it comes to us much increased in size, beauti
fully printed, and affording evidence of the judgment
and ability of the Messrs. Wood, its proprietors and
editors.
The Scientific American.
We had missed from our table for weeks this val
uable journal of Science and the Arts, and were
about to ask its worthy publi h rs the why and
wherefore, when Nos. 5, 6 and 7 arrived. We hope
they will send us Nos. 2,3 and 4, for we should re.
gret not to have the volume complete. It is the
cheapest and be.-t weekly paper devoted to the Me
chanic Arts in the U. States.
The American Union. Boston.
“ A ankeedom” is certainly a wonderful region—
judged only by the number of Literary and Family
Journals which rise and flourish within its borders.
We have already, on our exchange list, five largo
and excellent weekly papers from the City of Bos
ton, and we have now to add to the number a sixth,
under the above title—the first number of which is
certainly a very creditable specimen of its class. It
affords unmistakeable evidonce of taste and talent
in its handsome and well-filled pages, and we hope
it may be as progressive as the great confederacy
whose name it bears.
Literary American. New \ ork: N. J. Townsend.
1 his excellent weekly is gaining so rapidly on the
public favor, that its worthy publisher announces a
speedy increase of its size by one-half of its present
number of pages. It has our cordial wishes for its
complete success—lor, unquestionably, it deserves
it. It is edited by G. P. Quackcnboss, Esq.
The Saturday Rambler, of Boston, is one of
the best papero for the Family Circle that comes to
us from that Emporium of Literature. A good
taste and pure, evidently controls its pages—and we
like to speak in praise of such a Journal.
<Dur 3300 ft CTafcle,
| History of the French Revolution, of 1789.
By Louis Blanc Parts First and Second
Philadelphia: Lea & Blanchard.
I
Probably no event in the world’s history has giv
en rise to more books th in the famous French Revo
lution of 1789. It has been seized upon by almost
every annalist of note in France, and by writers in
other countries, and its causes, its progress and its
results, made the staple of philosophical speculation,
simple narrative, and ingenious fiction.
The work of Louis Blanc will attract no inconsid
erable degree of attention, not only from his aeknow
| ledged ability as a historian, but especially from his
j peculiar relations to the last Revolution in Paris.
One of the leading spirits of that erratic outbreak,
and a prominent member of the Provisional Govern
ment ’which succeeded the Orleans dynasty, he is
now an exile from his country, and a refugee in the
shadow of a monarchy more stable than that which
he helped to overthrow. Witli the socialism of
Louis Blanc we have little sympathy, and are not,
therefore, prepared to take for granted all his views
of the causes of the great Revolution. We must,
however, accord to him the credit of having attempt
ed, at least, to fathom, more deeply than other wri
ters, those causes, and of diligently tracing them to
their outworkings, however much he may have mis
taken the tendencies and results of that stormy pe
riod.
The work of Louis Blanc is voluminous—the two
parts before us being only two of ten volumes now
in course of publication in Paris, It is also, as we
have already hinted, a philosophical w ork, and can
not fail to interest those readers who have taste and
leisure for speculations on the past. French Revo
lutions are now so much a matter of course, that
their history is likely to become popular reading ;
since one is unwilling to remain in ignorance of the
type of those periodical events which convulse not
only France but much of the European w orld.
These volumes, to which we can do little more
than direct the attention of our readers, are full of
material for the Reviewer, and will doubt less receive
the attention they merit. The translation appears
to us to be marked by vigor and fidelity.
Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell. One
volume, 16mo. pp. 176. Philadelphia: Lea &
Blanchard.
“ Who wrote Jane Eyre 1” is a question that flew
from mouth to mouth a few months ago, when that
interesting and novel fiction made its first appear
ance. The answer then given is identical with that
which the same question would now receive Cur* j
rer Bell wrote Jane Eyre. Subsequently a triad !
of authors was announced—a regular chi me of bells — |
and the Jane Eyre of Currer Bell was followed by |
the Wuthering Heights of Ellis Bell, and the latter ‘
by the Wildfell Hall of Acton Bell. With these ’
varied and very unequal romances we have nothing j
to do at this time, and will only say that the first is
also the best. These throe Bells now claim to be j
heard of the public in tones of melody, and we have
a very pretty volume of Poems by the triple author.
Are they three in name orly, and one in fact 1 We
cannot tell, though wo incline to this opinion, in
spite of the vast dissimilarity of the novels—Jar.e
Eyre and Wuthering Height-’—unlike and yet like.
Waiving, therefore, the question, Who and what
are the authors 1 we will glance for a moment at
their poems. In the volume the pieces are arranged
in the order of the announcement of the names. Wc
have Currer, Ellis, Acton, and thus to the end of
the book. Os the three, we are half inclined to call
Currer the best poet; but it may bo that we are in
fluenced by our preference for Jane Eyre. They are
nil quite successful in verse, and thovolmne contains
some very beautiful things, to which it must be con
fessed there are others that appear to he mere foils.
r \ bus gracefully sings Currer Bell, of
LIFE.
Life, believe, is not a drenm
So dark as sagea say—
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
Sometime* there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
It the shower will make the roses blwoni
O, why lament its fa.llf
That we do not givo specimens from the verse of
Ellis and Acton Bell, is not because wc have not
pencilled gems by both of them, but because our
limits forbid. The characteristics of the poetry in
the volume before us. are chiefly naturalness and
vigor, not, however, lacking the graces of a melo
dious versification. The chiming of the “ Bells”
will fall soothingly and gratefully on the ears of
thousands of readers—and wo shall oft-times linger
well pleased, within their sound.
The Pre-adamite Earth: Contributions to Theo
logical Science, by John Harris, I). D. On©
vol. 12mo. pp. 294. Boston: Gould, Kendall &
Lincoln.
This is not a book for “an idle hour,” or to be
taken up lor that most unworthy of all purposes, “ to
kill time ’ with. It demands on the part of the rea
der deep thought and laborious study, which will
doubtless render it distasteful to him who reads to
he amused, loa informed—fascinated, not elevated.
Ihe high aim with which the author commenced
his task — commenced endy in this volumo—overlooks
altogether the purpose of gratifying an idlo curiosi
ty, or ministering to a thoughtless fancy. Lofty
principles, important truths in the science of Theol
0S3 r > are developed in its pages. The author labors,
and not vainly, to exhibit the beautiful and perfect
harmony subsisting between the laws of Natural
Science and those of Theology, and clearly demon
strates that Geology and the Bible are not antago
nists—as some would have us believe. The law*
and principles of organic nature aro unfolded, and
shown to be in unison with the revelations of The
ology. The Christian philosopher, the Bible stu
dent, and the thinking man, will bail this volume
wit h sincere pleasure. To all such it is fraught with
a deep interest, and the continuation of the “ fc’eries”
will be equally welcomo.
Picciola : Tho Prisoner of Fenestrclla, or Captivi
ty Captive. By X. B. Saint ink. Anew edition,
with illustrations. Philadelphia: Lea & Blanch
ard.
Dear, delightful Picciola! Welcome at auy
time and in any guise, but doubly welcome in the
chaste and attractive dress which Messrs. Lea &.
Uanchard have given it, is this most touching and
exquisite fiction. It deserves to be as w idely read
ns Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, for it teaches a lea
son scarcely inferior in dignity and importance to
that immortal work. If any of our readers are so
unfortunate as not to be familiar with the Picciola
of Sairitine, let us advi.-e them to obtain the book ut
once, and read a narrative as full of pathos, tender
ness, lofty sentiment, and soul-transforming truth,
as can bo found in any language. For the informa
tion of all who need it, we will add that Picciola is
the narrative of a captive—the noble Charles Vera
mont, Count de Charnay—who was incarcerated in
the fortress of Fenestrella. lie entered his prison
an insidel —he left it a believer. This transforma
tion was effected through the agency of a flower that
sprung up in the flag-paved yard of his prison. The
processes of the change are narrated with a simpli
city and grace that completely charm tho reader.
It is a book that will bear to bo read repeatedly,
and yet retain all its wonderful interest.
Wreaths of Friendship. A Gift for tho Young.
By T. S. Arthur and T. C. Woodworth. N.
York : Baker &. Scribner.
This is a very attractive volume, both in appear
ance and reality. Tho two authors aro both well
known as writers for tho young, and we are dispo
sed to think they have spared i either labor nor fast*
in the preparation of these ‘ Wreaths,’ which are
certainly graceful enough to adorn the brow of the
young, the fair, and the good The sketches are
numerous, and the illusti arioi s beautiful. It is a
rare pretty gift for the approa hing holidays. Pa
rents would do well to see it before they make all
their selections.
fHarrtrU :
At Roswell, Cobb County, Georgia, on the 19th of
October, Chas. T. Qutntard, M. P., of Macon, to
Eliza C., daughter of the late Bayard Hand, Esq.,
of Savannah.
215