For the Southern Literary Messenger.
THE VICTIM OF DISAPPOINTMENT.
| 'Tis vanishing!—'tis vanishing!— The last bright star that shed Its cheering light upon a path, Whence all light else had fled! 'Tis vanishing!—'tis vanishing!— As night steals on the day, And slowly wraps the glowing west, In its dark cloak of gray. So, silently, o'er me advance The shades of dark despair, And fade away the hopes that shone But yesterday, so fair! Aye! when they shone so fair, and seemed As soon to be enjoyed, And I (fond fool!) believed so, came, The blight that hath destroyed! I might have known it would be so! There is an evil sprite, That, ever present, watches me, My every joy to blight! I never grasp'd the cup of bliss, And, raising, thought to sip, But, straight, the envious demon came, And dash'd it from my lip! I never keenly strove to win What heart was set upon, But, when I thought it surely mine, And grasp'd at it—'twas gone! And now, the cherished dream, that hath So long, so deeply blessed— That gave me heart to struggle on, Hath vanished—with the rest! |
P. H.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
MR. WHITE,—Having long believed that Education was by far the most important subject on which the talents of either public or private men could be exercised, I have ever deemed that man in some degree a public benefactor, who contributed even a mite towards its promotion. To the study therefore of this subject, much more than of any other, I have devoted my time and thoughts for the last twenty or thirty years; vainly perhaps, hoping that I also might contribute something in aid of this most momentous work. How far the labor has been productive of any good, must be determined by others; but their approbation, although it would certainly gratify my feelings, has operated, I trust, only as a secondary motive. To contribute something, be it ever so little, towards the good of my fellow creatures, has been the chief purpose of my existence since I came to years of serious reflection; and the consciousness of having achieved this good in any degree, would be (could I once possess it) my highest reward in the present life.
Influenced by such sentiments and considerations, I now send you five manuscript lectures, delivered about two years ago, before the Lyceum of Fredericksburg, "On the Obstacles to Education arising from the peculiar faults of Parents, Teachers, Scholars, and those who direct and control our Schools and Colleges."
Trite as the subject of Education is, it can never cease to be deeply—nay, vitally interesting, so long as the happiness of the whole human race—both in their private and public relations—both in this world and the next, so entirely depends upon the nature of the objects embraced by it, and the manner in which it is conducted. Deep and deadly too will be the guilt of any wilful neglect, error, or perversion, on the part of all those who direct the physical and intellectual training of the youth of our country. Unless both become what they should be, neither our forms of government, nor our political nor literary institutions, can ever accomplish any of the great ends for which they were designed.