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nature, and the laws of the body, which you inhabit? Were you ever taught to understand the operation of diet, air, exercise, and modes of dress upon the human frame? Have the causes which are continually operating to prevent good health, and the modes by which it might be perfected and preserved, ever been made the subject of any instruction ?"

Perhaps almost every voice would respond, “No. We have attended to almost every thing more than to this. We have been taught more concerning the structure of the earth, the laws of the heavenly bodies, the habits and forination of plants, the philosophy of language, than concerning the structure of the human frame, and the laws of health and reason.” But is it not the business, the profession of a woman, to guard the health, and form the physical habits of the young? And is not the cradle of infancy and the chamber of sickness sacred to woman alone? And ought she not to know, at least, some of the general principles of that perfect and wonderful piece of mechanism committed to her preservation and care ?

The restoration of health is the physician's profession, but the preservation of it falls to other hands; and it is believed that the time will come, when woman will be taught to understand something respecting the construction of the human frame; the philosophical results which will naturally follow from restricted exercise, unhealthy modes of dress, improper diet, and many other causes, which are continually operating to destroy the health and life of the young.

Again, let our sex be asked respecting the instruction they have received, in the course of their education, on that still more arduous and difficult department of their profession, which relates to the intellect and the moral susceptibilities. “ Have you been taught the powers and faculties of the human mind, and the laws by which it is regulated ? Have you studied how to direct its several faculties? how to restrain those that are overgrown,

and strengthen and mature those that are deficient? Have you been taught the best modes of communicating knowledge, as well as of acquiring it? Have you learned the best mode of correcting bad moral habits, and forming good ones? Have

you made it an object, to find how a selfish disposition may be made generous ? how a reserved temper may be made open and frank ? how pettishness and ill-humor may be changed to cheerfulness and kindness ?

Has any woman studied her profession in this respect!"

It is feared the same answer must be returned, if not from all, at least from most of our sex: “No. We have acquired wisdom from the observation and experience of others, on almost all other subjects; but the philosophy of the direction and control of the human mind, has not been an object of thought or study." And thus it appcar?, that, though it is woman's express business to rear the body and form the mind, there is scarcely any thing to which her aitention has been less directed.




“'Thy grandmother," said uncle Toby, addressing himself to young Laura, just from the city, and who was playing the battle of Marengo,' on the piano, “thy grandmother, child, used to play upon a much better instrument than thine.” “Indeed," said Laura, “how could it have been better? You know it is the most fashionable instrument, and is used by everybody that is anything." "Your grandmother was something, and yet she never saw a pianoforte.”

6 But what was the name of the instrument? Had it strings, and was it played by the hand ?” “ You must give me time to recollect the name: it was indeed a stringed instrument, and was played with the hand.”

“By the hands alone? How vulgar! But I should really like to see one; and papa must buy me one when I return to the city; do you think we can obtain one ?” “ No, you probably will not obtain one there, but doubtless they may be found in some of the country towns." “ How many strings had it? Must one play with both hands? And could one play the double base ?" “ I know not whether it would play the double base, as you call it; but it was played with both hands, and had two strings.”

"Two strings only ? Surely you are jesting! How could

6. What a pro

good music be produced from such an instrument, when the piano has two or three hundred ?” “Oh, the strings were very long, one of them about fourteen feet; and the other may be lengthened at pleasure, even to fifty feet or more." digious deal of room it must take up! But no matter, I will have mine in the old hall, and papa may have an addition made to it; for he says I shall never want for anything, and so does mamma. But what kind of sound did it make? Were the strings struck with little mallets like the piano; or were they snapped like a harpsichord.” 66 Like neither of those instruments, as I recollect, but it produced a soft kind of humming music, and was peculiarly agreeable to the husband and relations of the performer.”

Oh, as to pleasing one's husband or relations, you know that is altogether vulgar in fashionable society. But I am determined to have one, at any rate. Was it easily learned ? and was it taught by French and Italian masters ?" “ It was easily learned, but taught neither by Frenchmen nor Italians.” “Can you not possibly remember the name? How shall we know what to inquire for ?" Yes, I do now remember the name; and you must inquire for a Spinning Wheel.” ANONYMOUS




Home of the Percy's high-born race,

Home of their beautiful and brave,
Alike their birth and burial place,

Their cradle and their grave!
Still sternly o’er the castle gate
Their house's lion stands in state,

As in his proud departed hours ;
And warriors frown in stone on high,
And feudal banners “flout the sky,”

Above his princely towers.
A gentle hill its side inclines,

Lovely in England's fadeless green,
To meet the quiet stream which winds

Through this romantic scene,

As silently and sweetly still,
As when, at evening, on that hill,

While summer's wind blew soft and low,
Seated by gallant Hotspur's side,
His Katharine was a happy bride,

A thousand years ago.
Gaze on the abbey's ruined pile:

Does not the succoring ivy, keeping
Her watch around it, seem to smile,

As o'er a loved one sleeping ? One solitary turret gray

Still tells, in melancholy glory, The legend of the Cheviot day,

The Percy's proudest border story. That day its roof was triumph's arch ;

Then rang, from aisle to pictured dome, The light step of the soldier's march,

The music of the trump and drum:

And babe and sire, the old, the young, And the monk's hymn, and minstrel's song, And woman's pure kiss, sweet and long,

Welcomed the warrior home. Wild roses by the abbey towers

Are gay in their young bud and bloom :
They were born of a race of funeral flowers,
That garlanded, in long-gone hours,

A templar's knightly tomb.
He died, the sword in his mailed hand,
On the holiest spot of the Blessed Land,

Where the cross was damped with his dying breath;
When blood ran free as festal wine,
And the sainted air of Palestine

Was thick with the darts of death.
Wise with the lore of centuries,
What tales, if there be “ tongues in trees,”

Those giant oaks could tell,
Of beings born and buried here;
Tales of the peasant and the peer,
Tales of the bridal and the bier,

T'he welcome and farewell,
Since, on their boughs, the startled bird
First, in her twilight slumbers, heard

The Norman's curfew bell.

I wandered through the lofty halls

Trod by the Percys of old fame,
And traced, upon the chapel walls,

Each high, heroic name,
From him* who once his standard set
Where now, o'er mosque and minaret,

Glitter the sultan's crescent moons,
To him who, when a younger son,
Fought for King George at Lexington,

A major of dragoons.

That last half stanza-it has dashed

From my warm lip the sparkling cup;
The light that o'er my eye-beam flashed,

The power that bore my spirit up
Above this bank-note world—is gone ;
And Alnwick's but a market town,
And this, alas! its market day,
And beasts and borderers throng the way;
Oxen, and bleating lambs in lots,
Northumbrian boors, and plaided Scots;

Men in the coal and cattle line,
From Teviot's bard and hero land,
From royal Berwick's beach of sand,
From Wooller, Morpeth, Hexham, and


These are not the romantic times
So beautiful in Spenser's rhymes,

So dazzling to the dreaming boy:
Ours are the days of fact, not fable;
Of knights, but not of the round table;

Of Bailie Jarvie, not Rob Roy;
'T is what “our President," Munroe,

Has called “the era of good feeling :"
The Highlander, the bitterest foe
To modern laws, has felt their blow,
Consented to be taxed, and vote,
And put on pantaloons and coat,

And leave off cattle-stealing : • One of the ancestors of the Percy family was an emperor of Constantinople

+ The late duke. He commanded one of the detachments of the British army in the affair at Lexington and Concord, in 1775.

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