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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