and so play all. In these days, every science and every art is made a play-thing. One child is putting together dissected maps, and thereby learns geography; another is diverting himself with a musical game, very scientifick in its principles, and no doubt equally amusing and instructive; and another, is set to work upon the royal game of Goose, by way of becoming an expert arithmetician Now there is some danger, perhaps, lest the children should carry the sport too far, and when their instructers turn the things they would teach into games, the children may possibly make game of the things they should learn.

Man must work; he cannot earn physical or intellectual sustenance or wealth, but by physical or intellectual labour. All the concerns of this world must undergo a great change, and stand in very different relations to each other, before this decree will be revoked; at all events, it stands now, and is not to be evaded; and therefore, a knowledge of the elements of the sciences, that is, a superficial, indistinct, indigested knowledge of certain desultory and very general elements of a few sciences,-is hardly recompense enough for the abandonment of a habit of prompt, willing, and earnest exertion, which a boy may and should acquire while his character is growing.

But it may be asked, since children must and ought to play, why not make their amusements edifying and useful, in such measure and manner as may be possible? We have no objections to this, so long as their amusements are known and regarded as what they really are. It is only when they are considered important vehicles of instruction, that they become worse than useless by favouring the prevalent mistake, that the principal object of education is not to invigorate, but replenish the mind, and the yet more injurious notion, that a good thing may be gotten without toil.

Set your child at work upon a task, suited to his age and capacity; make him work as hard as you can, without doing him harm, and compel him to learn and feel that labour, the necessary evil of life, must be borne, and if borne patiently, diminishes, till in the end it disappears. A distinct practical conviction of this truth is worth, a hundred times over, all the musick, or geography, or history, or mathematicks, that a child ever learned from his playthings, since the fashion of this day came in.

LESSON CVIII.

Influence of Literature, and especially of the Sacred Scriptures.-WAYLAND.

Of all the books, with which, since the invention of writing, this world has been deluged, the number of those, is very small, which have produced any perceptible effect on the mass of human character. By far the greater part have been, even by their contemporaries, unnoticed and unknown. Not many an one has made its little mark upon the generation that produced it, though it sunk with that generation to utter forgetfulness. But, after the ceaseless toil of six thousand years, how few have been the works, the adamantine basis of whose reputation has stood unhurt amid the fluctuations of time, and whose impression can be traced through successive centuries on the history of our species.

When, however, such a work appears, its effects are absolutely incalculable; and such a work, you are aware, is the Iliad of Homer. Who can estimate the results produced by this incomparable effort of a single mind! Who can tell what Greece owes to this first-born of song! Her breathing marbles, her solemn temples, her unrivalled eloquence, and her matchless verse, all point us to that transcendent genius, who, by the very splendour of his own effulgence, woke the human intellect from the slumber of ages.

It was Homer, who gave laws to the artist; it was Homer, who inspired the poet; it was Homer, who thundered in the senate; and more than all, it was Homer, who was sung by the people; and, hence a nation was cast into the mould of one mighty mind, and the land of the Iliad, became the region of taste, the birthplace of the arts. Nor was this influence confined within the limits of Greece. Long after the sceptre of empire had passed westward, genius still held her court on the banks of the Ilyssus, and from the country of Homer gave laws to the world.

The light, which the blind old man of Scio had kindled in Greece, shed its radiance over Italy; and thus did he awaken a second nation to intellectual existence. And we may

form some idea of the power, which this one work has to the present day exerted over the mind of man, by remarking, that "nation after nation, and century after century, has been able to do little more than transpose his incidents, newname his characters, and paraphrase his sentiments."

But, considered simply as an intellectual production, who will compare the poems of Homer with the Holy Scriptures

of the Old and New Testament?

Where in the Iliad shall

we find simplicity and pathos, which shall vie with the narrative of Moses, or maxims of conduct to equal in wisdom the Proverbs of Solomon, or sublimity which does not fade away before the conceptions of Job, or David, of Isaiah, or St. John.

But I cannot pursue this comparison. I feel that it is doing wrong to the mind, which dictated the Iliad, and to those other mighty intellects, on whom the light of the holy oracles never shined. Who, that has read his poem, has not observed how he strove, in vain to give dignity to the mythology of his time? Who has not seen how the religion of his country, unable to support the flight of his imagination, sunk powerless beneath him?

It is the unseen world, where the master spirits of our race breathe freely and are at home; and it is mournful to behold the intellect of Homer striving to free itself from the conceptions of materialism, and then sinking down in hopeless despair, to weave idle fables about Jupiter and Juno, Apollo or Diana. But the difficulties, under which he laboured, are abundantly illustrated by the fact, that the light, which he poured upon the human intellect, taught other ages how unworthy was the religion of his day of the man, who was compelled to use it. "It seems to me," says Longinus, "that Homer, when he ascribes dissensions, jealousies, tears, imprisonments, and other afflictions to his deities, hath, as much as was in his power, made the men of the Iliad gods, and the gods men. To man, when afflicted, death is the termination of evils; but he hath made not only the nature but the miseries of the gods eternal."

If, then, so great results have flowed from this one effort of a single mind, what may we not expect from the combined effort of several, at least his equals in power over the human heart? If that one genius, though groping in the thick darkness of absurd idolatry, wrought so glorious a transformation in the character of his countrymen, what may we not look for from the universal dissemination of those writings, on whose authors was poured the full splendour of eternal truth? If unassisted human nature, spell-bound by a childish mythology, have done so much, what may we not hope for, from the supernatural efforts of pre-eminent genius, which spake as it was moved by the Holy Ghost?

LESSON CIX.

A Desire for Military Conquest detrimental to the National Welfare.-HOPKINSON.

THE matters in controversy, seem to me, to obtain infinite importance, from the connection they have with the character of our country. We stand in a most peculiar and responsible situation in this respect. The nations of Europe, from their contiguity, may be said to form a family, or an association, controled by, and accountable to each other. They have alliances, which all respect; ties, which all must feel; balances and checks, which all are interested to preserve, and rules of conduct, in their mutual intercourse, which all are made to obey. The American people, removed far from the rest of the civilized world, and placed beyond the control of the policy or force of Europe, have none of those means to keep them in the path of justice. They acknowledge no guide authorized to direct them, but their own consciences; and feel no responsibility, but to their God.

This, sir, is a trying and tempting situation; placing us on the highest ground of virtue, if we do not abuse it; but exposing us to infinite danger from the suggestions of pride, interest, and self-love. But, sir, let us not forget, that we belong to the family of civilized nations, and be most forward to prove our devotion to those rules of conduct, which the experience and wisdom of ages have established, as necessary for the peace and usefulness of all. Let us cherish those laws, which increase the blessings of peace, and mitigate the calamities of war.

The dangers, which our country may apprehend from the encouragement of a military spirit in our people, have been eloquently portrayed on this occasion. It is undoubtedly true, that a strong disposition of this sort, has been manifested, and was rapidly rising, in the people of the United States; and a greater evil could hardly befall us, than the consummation of its tendency. There is something so infatuating in the pomp and triumphs of war, that a young and brave people, who have known but little of its destructive miseries, may require to be guarded against falling into the snare, and led to direct their energies to other and better objects.

It is worthy of remark that, in the various ways, in which the genius and powers of men display themselves, the military course is the only one, eminently dangerous to his species.

Genius, in every other department, however dazzling and powerful, is never hurtful,-is generally a blessing to the world. The stupendous genius of Newton, elevated the dignity of man, and brought him nearer to his God; it gave him a path to walk in the firmament, and knowledge to hold converse with the stars. The erratick comet cannot elude his vigilance; nor the powerful sun disappoint his calculation. Yet this genius, so mighty in the production of good, was harmless of evil as a child. It never inflicted injury or pain, on any thing, that lives or feels. Shakspeare prepared an inexhaustible feast of instruction and delight for his own age, and the ages to come; but he brought no tears into the world, but those of fictitious woe, which the other end of his wand was always ready to cure. It is military genius alone, that must be nourished with blood, and can find employment, only in inflicting misery and death upon man.

LESSON CX.

Dialogue.-COOPER.

SCENE. An apartment of Mr. Wharton's country seat at the Locusts.--MR. WHARTON alone.

Enter MAJOR DUNWOODIE.

Major D. Mr. Wharton, in times like these, we need not stand on idle ceremony-one of my officers, I am afraid, is hurt mortally; and presuming on your hospitality, I have brought him to your door.

Mr. Wharton. I am happy, Sir, that you have done so, the necessitous are always welcome, and doubly so is he, being the friend of Major Dunwoodie.

Major D. Sir, I thank you for myself, and in behalf of him, who is unable to render you his thanks; if then you please, we will have him conducted where the surgeon may see and report upon his case without delay.

Mr. Wharton. He can be accommodated in this room. [Exit MAJOR Dunwoodie. Captain Singleton, wounded, is brought in by several dragoons. Re-enter Major Dunwoodie with Dr. Sitgreaves. Major D. Hasten-Sitgreaves-hasten, or George Single

ton will die from loss of blood.

Dr. Sitgreaves. What, Singleton! God forbid-bless