angels hereafter. The book contains no sentiment or thought, which a dying christian mother would not wish to have engraved deeply on the heart of her daughter.

Such is the character of the sentiments inculcated. The mode of inculcating them, is so bland, so meek, so full of the milk of human kindness, and christian love, that it would seem impossible that the author should plead in vain with the youth of her sex. There is no monitorial dictation or stoical formality. It is the going forth of the heart to meet hearts; it is the communion of an elder sister with beloved younger sisters, portraying the loveliness of knowledge and of virtue, and fondly alluring them to follow her own footsteps in the onward, upward

course.

The work is replete with classical and historical illustrations, evincing that the mind of the author is "rich with the spoils of time." The style is a fine specimen of good writing. Though buoyant with the spirit of poesy, it is nevertheless remarkable for its simplicity and precision. While it assimilates to the gracefulness of Goldsmith and the simple elegance of Addison, it presents a point and strength of diction, which we were not prepared to expect from the female pen.

But it is time we should allow the author to speak for herself. The whole introductory address eloquently enforces the importance of female education. Take for instance the following extract.

That the vocation of females is to teach, has been laid down as a position, which it is impossible to controvert. In seminaries, academies and schools, they possess peculiar facilities for coming in contact with the unfolding and unformed mind. It is true, that only a small portion are engaged in the departments of public and systematic instruction. Yet the hearing of recitations, and the routine of scholastic discipline, are but parts of education. It is in the domestic sphere, in her own native province, that woman is inevitably a teacher. There she modifies by her example, her dependants, her companions, every dweller under her own roof. Is not the infant in the cradle, her pupil? Does not her smile give the earliest lesson to its soul? Is not her prayer the first message for it in the court of heaven? Does she not enshrine her own image in the sanctuary of the young child's mind, so firmly that no revulsion can displace, no idolatry supplant it? Does she not guide the daughter, until placing her hand in that of her husband, she reaches that pedestal, from whence, in her turn, she imparts to others, the stamp and coloring which she has herself received? Might she not, even

upon her sons, engrave what they shall take unchanged through all the temptations of time, to the bar of the last judgment? Does not the influence of woman rest upon every member of her household, like the dew upon the tender herb, or the sunbeam silently educating the young flower? or as the shower, and the sleepless stream, cheer and invigorate the proudest tree of the forest?

Of what unspeakable importance then, is her education, who gives lessons before any other instructor-who pre-occupies the unwritten page of being who produces impressions which only death can obliterate and mingles with the cradle-dream what shall be read in eternity. Well may statesmen and philosophers debate how she may be best educated, who is to educate all mankind.

Nothing is more important than to impress deeply on the youthful mind, the value of time. And few things are more difficult. We think the author happy in the following brief appeal.

Suffer me, then, with the urgency of true friendship, to impress on you the importance of a just estimate of time. Consider how much is to be performed, attained, and conquered, ere you are fitted to discharge the duties which the sphere of woman comprehends. Think of the brevity of life. The most aged have compared it to a span in compass-and to a shuttle in flight. Compute its bearings upon the bliss or wo of eternity, and remember if misspent, it can never be recalled. Other errors admit of reformation. Lost wealth may be regained, by a course of industry;-the wreck of health, repaired by temperance;-forgotten knowledge, restored by study;alienated friendship, soothed into forgiveness :-even forfeited repu tation, won back by penitence and virtue. But who ever again looked upon his vanished hours?-recalled his slighted years and stamped them with wisdom?-or effaced from heaven's record, the fearful blot of a wasted life?

The amiable virtue of respect for old age, is often very feelingly alluded to in the writings of Mrs. Sigourney. Take the following touching passage as an example.

There is one virtue which I wish to recommend to your attention, my young friends, in which the present age has been pronounced deficient. I mean, respect to the aged. To "honor the hoary head, and rise up before the face of the old man," is a command of Jehovah. Those who have borne the burdens of life until strength has failed, in whose bosoms are treasures of experience to which we are strangers, whose virtues are confirmed beyond the fear of change or fluctuation, and who by the short space that divides their ripened piety from its reward, may be literally said to be "but a little lower than the angels," are surely worthy of the veneration of youth.

Even when age is seen united with infirmity of purpose, or decay of those organs, through which the mind has been accustomed to act, it is entitled to tenderness from those who must themselves tread the same path of withered and wearied energies, unless they go down to an earlier grave. The aged are soothed by the marked respect of the young, and the tribute is graceful to those who render it.

The whole letter on the subject of religion, is in the author's best manner. Indeed we know of no pen more happy in portraying the loveliness of piety. To show how indelibly the name of the Redeemer clings to the memory of the Christian, even when extreme age has obliterated every thing else, she introduces the following affecting narrative.

Among those who serve at God's altar, was one, who had faithfully discharged through a long life, the holy duties of his vocation. He lingered after his contemporaries had gone to rest. By the fireside of his only son, he sat in peaceful dignity, and the children of another generation loved his silver locks. In that quiet recess, memory was lulled to sleep. The names of even familiar things, and the images held most indelible, faded as a dream. Still he lived on -cheered by that reverence which is due to the "hoary head, when found in the way of righteousness." At length, his vigor failed. The staff could no longer support his tottering steps, and nature tended to her last repose.

It was attempted by the repetition of his own name, to awaken the torpor of memory. But he replied, "I know not the man." Mention was made of his only son, the idol of his early years, whose filial gratitude had taken every form and office of affection: "I have no son." The tender epithet by which he had designated his favorite grandchild was repeated: "I have no little darling." Among the group of friends who surrounded his bed, there was one who spoke of the Redeemer of man. The aged suddenly raised himself upon his pillow. His eye kindled, as when from the pulpit, in the vigor of his days, he had addressed an audience whom he loved. I remember that Saviour. Yes I do remember the Lord Jesus Christ."

The following appeal to the youth of her sex in favor of early piety, urged home by the author with maternal affection, cannot fail of doing good. The oftener it is in print and the more widely it is diffused, the better.

And now, cherished and lovely beings, just commencing to as cend the hill of life, looking around you, like timid and beautiful strangers, for the greenest paths, or the most approved guides on your devious pilgrimage, if there was a science capable of imparting VOL. IX. No. 26.

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happiness, when age a science which sur

unbounded happiness, and of continuing that disqualifies the mind for other researches mounts that grave, where all earthly glory lays down its laurel, and fixes a firm grasp on heaven, when earth recedes, how must she be pitied who neglects its acquisition. And there is such a science. And there is peril in disregarding it. Truly impressive were the words of Queen Elizabeth's secretary of state, to the bishops who surrounded his death-bed: "Ah! how great a pity, that we men should not feel for what end we are born into this world, till we are just on the point of quitting it."

If there were a book, that astonished both by its wisdom and its antiquity that delighted alike by history, oratory and poetry-in theory and illustration, equally simple and sublime, yielding to the comprehension of the unlearned, yet revealing to the critic, the finger of Deity a book which the wise have pronounced superior to all besides, and the learned retained for daily study when all others were dismissed - how anxious should we be to obtain it, how impatient to be made acquainted with its contents. And there is such a book. And for want of the knowledge of it, how many regions of the earth, are but the "habitations of cruelty."-" More wisdom, comfort, and pleasure, are to be found in retiring and turning your heart from the world, and reading with the good Spirit of God, his sacred Word, than in all the courts and all the favors of princes," said one, who had enjoyed the pomp and distinction of a court. If there were a day, when it was lawful to turn from all labor, vanity and care to take home to the heart, only those images which make it better- and to associate in spirit not only with the good of all ages, but with cherubim and seraphim around the throne

should we not hail its approach amid the weariness of life? And there is such a day. The pious greet it, as a foretaste of heaven's rest. The wise have pronounced its influence propitious, even upon their temporal concerns. "I have found," says Sir Matthew Hale, "by strict and diligent observation, that a due observance of the duties of the Sabbath, hath ever brought with it a blessing on the rest of my time, and the week so begun hath been prosperous unto me."

And

If there was a friend, whose sympathies never slumbered, whose judgment never erred, whose power had no limit -a friend acquainted with all our wants, and able to supply them with our secret sorrows, and ready to relieve them should we not be urgent to seek his presence, and grateful to express our desires? there is such a friend- such a mode of access? "Eighty-and-six years, have I served him," said the venerable Polycarp, "and he hath never done me aught but good."—"All things forsake me, except my God, my duty, and my prayers," said the noble statesman, whose long life comprehended the reign of five sovereigns of England, and whose carcer had been dignified by the honors which are coveted among men.

The excellency of that wisdom which cometh down from above, compared with the treasures of human learning, is well enforced in the ensuing extract.

We cannot but feel that we are beings of a two-fold nature that our journey to the tomb is short, and the existence beyond it immortal. Is there any attainment that we may reserve, when we lay down the body? We know, that of the gold which perishes, we may take none with us, when dust returneth to dust. Of the treasures which the mind accumulates, may we carry aught with us, to that bourne, whence no traveller returns?

We may have been delighted with the studies of nature, and penetrated into those caverns, where she perfects her chemistry in secret. Composing and decomposing-changing matter into nameless forms-pursuing the subtilest essences through the air, and resolving even that air into its original elements-what will be the gain, when we pass from material to immaterial, and this great museum and laboratory, the time-worn earth, shall dissolve in its own central fires?

We may have become adepts in the physiology of man-scanning the mechanism of the eye, till light itself unfolded its invisible laws —of the ear, till its most hidden reticulations confessed their mysterious agency with sound - of the heart, till that citadel of life re vealed its hermit-policy: but will these researches be available, in a state of being which " eye hath not seen, nor ear heard nor the heart of man conceived?"

Will he who fathoms the waters, and computes their pressure and power, have need of this skill," where there is no more sea?" Will the mathematician exercise the lore, by which he measured the heavens- or the astronomer, the science which discovered the stars, when called to go beyond their light?

Those who have penetrated most deeply into the intellectual structure of man, lifted the curtain from the birthplace of thought, traced the springs of action to their fountain, and thrown the veiled and shrinking motive into the crucible, will perceive the object of their study, taking a new form, entering disembodied an unknown state of existence, and receiving powers adapted to its laws, and modes of intercourse.

We have no proof that the sciences, to which years of labor have been devoted, will survive the tomb. But the impressions they have made the dispositions they have nurtured - the good or evil, they have helped to stamp upon the soul-will go with it into eternity. The adoring awe, the deep humility, inspired by the study of the planets and their laws- the love of truth, which he cherished, who pursued the science that demonstrates it-will find a response among angels and archangels. The praise that was learned amid the melodies of nature - or from the lyre of consecrated genius-may