HINTS ON READING.
A proper and judicious system of reading is of the highest importance. Two things are necessary in perusing the mental labors of others;—namely, not to read too much, and to pay great attention to the nature of what you do read. Many persons peruse books for the express and avowed purpose of consuming time; and this class of readers forms by far the majority of what are termed the “reading public.” Others, again, read with the laudable anxiety of being made wiser; and when this object is not attained, the disappointment may generally be attributed, either to the habit of reading too much, or of paying insufficient attention to what falls under their notice.
It is recorded of Madame De Stäel Holstein, that before she was fifteen years of age, she had “devoured” 600 novels in three months, so that she must have read more than six a day, upon an average. Louis XVI, during the five months and seven days of his imprisonment immediately preceding his death, read 157 volumes, or one a day. If this species of gluttony is pardonable in circumstances like those of Louis, it is less so in those of a young lady of fourteen or fifteen. No one can have time for reflection who reads at this rapid rate; and, whatever may be thought, these devourers of books are guilty of abusing nature to an extent, as much greater than those who overcharge their stomachs, as the intellectual powers are higher than the animal propensities. Thousands of young persons spend their time in perpetual reading, or rather in devouring books. It is true, the food is light; but it occupies the mental faculties for the time in fruitless efforts, and operates to exclude food of a better quality.
The manners of a people are not to be found in the schools of learning, or the palaces of greatness, where the national character is obscured or obliterated by travel or instruction, by philosophy or vanity; nor is public happiness to be estimated by the assemblies of the gay, or the banquets of the rich. The great mass of nations is neither rich nor gay: they whose aggregate constitutes the people, are found in the streets and villages, in the shops and farms; and from them, collectively considered, must the measure of general prosperity be taken.
W. P.
SCENES IN THE LIFE OF A ROACH.
WRITTEN AFTER SEVERAL INEFFECTUAL EFFORTS TO DRIVE ROACHES AWAY.
“I left my home some prey to track,
And promised my loved ones I soon would come back;
But when I returned—alack! alack!
I looked in vain for the well-known crack.”
Thus spake a poor Roach as he wandered alone,
And sad was his face, and mournful his tone;
For he thought on the home he never should see,
On Mrs. Roach and his loved family.
He remembered with grief that their larder was bare,
And young roaches he knew could not live upon air.
Ah! do you human beings think what you’re about
When you fill up the cracks, and the old roaches out?
And poor Mrs. Roach sat sobbing at home,
Dreading that to her sposa some evil had come,
And the poor little young ones lay tumbling about,
Grieving much for their father who stayed so long out.
“At last,” quoth the eldest, “dear mother, I’ll go
And find if I can what keeps father so”—
And he started to go as he aye went before,
But gone was the crack they had used for a door!
Alas, human beings! do you know how you sin,
When you fill up the cracks, and the young roaches in?
Oh! then there was wailing within that dark hole,
For their grief was too deep to be under control,—
Said poor Mrs. Roach, “a widow I’ll be,
And who will provide for my dear family?”
Cheer up, little group! oh grieve not so sore!
If you’ll wait but a little there is comfort in store.
In the midst of their wailing a scraping they hear,
And lo! in their midst doth their sire appear.
“Cheer up, my dear wife, and ye children small,
For see, I have eaten my way through the wall!”
MORAL.
Good people, ’tis vain for you to stop up the holes,
For we roaches have instinct, if we have not got souls.
Here we’ve long been at home, and here we’ll remain,
And your phosphorus,[2] your elder,[2] and wafers,[2] are vain.
You may give up your efforts, your trouble and pother,
For when driven from one place, we will go to another:
If we weary your patience, your best plan, beyond doubt,
Will be to move off, ere we know that you’re out.
Margaret R⸺.
[2] Various means for getting rid of roaches.
THE CARTER’S HELPMATES.
AN ANECDOTE OF KING GEORGE THE FOURTH.
The minuter details of George IV’s life are not of a kind either to interest or edify young people, but here is an anecdote of his boyhood that will be certain of securing your sympathies.
The manners and appearance of George III and his family were entirely simple and unostentatious, and the early youth of the young princes and princesses was but very slightly different from that of other young people of rank throughout the kingdom. It was the frequent habit of the king to wander about the neighborhood of Windsor, altogether unattended, and accompanied only by the young Prince of Wales, who was his almost inseparable companion.
One morning they were pursuing their walk in their usual manner, when they met a farm servant driving a covered cart towards Windsor; they had passed him only by a few paces, when a sudden stoppage of the vehicle, and the outcries of the driver, caused them to look around, and they then perceived that the cart had got fast into a rut of the road, and the man was vainly urging his horses to drag it out.
The prince sprang back, and with little thought of ceremony, began applying his strength to the wheel, his majesty watching his efforts for a moment in silence, but instantly after stepping forward himself in the same service. Encouraged by this unlooked for help, the carter flogged and bawled to his horses, while the royal shoulders heaved as heartily at the wheel; and Hercules—moved no doubt by their ship-shape mode of invoking his aid—gave them strength enough to accomplish what they desired: the vehicle was extricated, and the driver, grateful to his friends, swore roundly that they must take a draught of ale with him, offering at the same time a seat in front of his cart to the next public house.
This civil offer was not accepted; the King and Prince shook the dust of their late labor from their plain clothing, and prepared to bid their friend adieu; but first his majesty presented the fortunate carter with a guinea, which the prince, holding to be no very worthy gift, instantly amended by a couple from his own purse. The carter, lost in astonishment, stood looking after these surprising helpmates (first making any thing but graceful, though very sincere acknowledgments), and it was not until they had got fairly out of his sight that he could bethink himself of once more getting on with his team.
On arriving at the public house which he had destined as the place of his rejected treat, and relating the wondrous occurrence that had taken place, he was acquainted with the quality of his assistants; but he could in no way be brought to believe the fact. Above all, he insisted that, though the prince might be the prince, yet the king could not be the king; for, he argued, why else did the first give him two guineas, when the second, whom his informants would have to be the greater, gave him only one! No, this was not “in his philosophy,” and he was convinced that his friends were wrong.
The story, and especially the man’s obstinacy, was talked of till it reached the king, whom it greatly amused. Some time after, his majesty met the same man on the road, and thus accosted him:
“So, you think, my friend, that my present was not a king’s present, though my son’s might do for a prince, hey? But remember that I must be just before I am generous; the prince has only himself to think about, but I have many who look up to me, as your children at home do to you, for all they want—do not forget that, my friend; good morning, good morning.” And the monarch once more left John Carter to his cogitations.