CULTURE OF THE MEMORY.

Memory is the re-presentation of past impressions upon the mind, in the order of their occurrence. It is admitted to be one of the most useful of our varied mental faculties. Yet it is to be feared that its cultivation is too much neglected in our present modes of education. It may well be questioned whether this faculty is exhibited in as good power among our youth now as twenty or fifty years ago.

One cause of decline may be found in the greater number of studies, by which their attention is distracted, so that less real thought and effort is put forth upon any one. Subjects of thought and study are not held with firmness and persistency enough to make an abiding impression upon the mind. Most studies have been so simplified, the successive steps have been made so easy, that very little exertion is required; and what is learned easily to-day is as easily forgotten to-morrow.

Another cause of decline in the power of the memory, is to be found in the great abundance of reading matter with which we are flooded, both in the shape of newspapers, periodical literature, and cheap books. We accustom ourselves to read without intending or desiring to remember. Words and thoughts flit

across our minds like the shadows over a landscape, producing no deeper impression. This habit of careless, desultory reading, which we can hardly help acquiring save by the most rigorous total abstinence from the modern necessities of social life, the daily or at least weekly newspapers, and magazines—to say nothing of our fashionable novels and other forms of light literaature; this habit we carry into the school-room, and to those studies in which we would gladly avail ourselves of a good memory.

A third cause may be found in the practice of committing almost every thing to writing that we wish to remember, instead of endeavoring to fix it firmly in the mind; till at last our memories fully deserve the want of confidence we are disposed to place

in them.

These causes of decline we can not well do away; we must try to meet them and overcome their effects as best we can. Το enlist an interest in this matter, we shall not recall the numerous remarkable examples history offers of wonderful powers of memory of generals who have been able to recall the names of all their soldiers-of scholars who have repeated page upon page after a single reading-of men who seem never to have forgotten a single word or incident they have once known, who go about among their fellows as walking encyclopædias of all knowledge; nor do we propose to dwell on the importance of a good memory, whatever may be our place in life. It will be enough for our present purpose to offer a few practical suggestions that may be carried out in our schools.

Our first suggestion is, the thorough mastery of each topic that is studied, by careful meditation, before any attempt to commit the words by which it is expressed. Be sure that the words are understood, that the idea is clearly in the mind, and then, if the book studied is properly written, it will be found that the words of the author are often needed by the scholar to express what has been learned, and very little pains is required to fix them in the mind. The effort to remember becomes a pleasure rather than a drudgery.

In the next place, it is often best, and, in some cases, as in mathematical studies, necessary, to commit the precise language of the author. On other grounds it may be useful to have the scholar employ his own language, but for purposes of memory, and, it may be added, correct habits of thought, it is well to hold to the exact terms of the author. The vague language the scholar is apt to employ, is really too often, if not always, expressive of the misty vagueness with which the thought is held in his mind.

And finally, we would suggest-even in our common schools -the practice of committing select passages of our best authors, in both prose and verse. Too much care can not be taken in these selections, that they should be from the best authors, and of such thoughts as may at the same time refine and elevate the

mind. The best forms of expression, the most accurate use of language, will then become familiar to the pupil, and ere long his teacher may be agreeably surprised to find choice words and thoughts reproduced in his conversation, or in his written exercises. We need not go out of our own American literature for good examples of vigorous English, chaste thought and purity of sentiment, as the authors of our various reading books have well shown. And we hardly know whether select passages from Webster, Everett, and Irving, or such poems as the "Psalm of Life," of Longfellow, and the "Forest Hymn," or "Thanatopin," of Bryant to say nothing of many similar productions-would contribute more to the improvement of the memory, or the entire intellectual character and tastes of the pupil.

N. G. C.

WHAT IS TRUTH?

Truth is fine feeling; not constant ecstatic rapture. It is correct thinking; though often connected with imperfect knowing. It is faithful speaking; not telling everything we know, invariably. It is right action; not action free from imperfection.

Active truth is conduct which takes GOD as the great central sun around which to revolve. Moral, saving truth is a trusting of the whole soul in the rich merits of the Lord Jesus Christ, the manifestation of GOD, who termed Himself" the Truth."

Truth in principle is made known in the Book of truth; and can be experienced through the operation of "the SPIRIT of Truth," not resisted, but yielded to, by us; and will then be exemplified in the life of truth on earth; after which the whole subject, in all its parts and perfections, will be fully understood, developed, and enjoyed in the future world.

SILK.

One day is worth three, to him who does every thing in order. Great minds have purposes; others only have wishes. My books speak to my mind, my friend to my heart, heaven to my soul, and all the rest to my ears.-Chinese Proverbs.

"CASTING ALL YOUR CARE UPON HIM."

Teacher, toiling, faint and weary,

Worn by thine unceasing care,
Comes there not a voice so tender,
Sweetly saying "Ne'er despair?"

Think again. Are there no pleasures
Found among thy little band?
Hear'st thou not their joyous welcome,
As they take thee by the hand?

Surely, thine's a glorious mission,
And it brings a sweet reward,
Found in their deep, pure affection,
Breathing volumes in a word.

And though oft with gloom enshrouded,
And there seems no joy for thee,
Then, list to that cheering promise,
"As thy day, thy strength shall be."

Hast thou not an Elder Brother?

-Faithful, true, unchanging friend!
On Him roll thy cares and burdens,
He will to thy call attend.

Hear'st thou not His words of kindness?
-"Wisdom will I give to thee—
"Freely give, without upbraiding,

"Unto all who ask of me."

Then go forward on thy mission,
Ever seek to do His will;
And, when roll the waves of sorrow,
He will whisper-"Peace, be still."

Joy and love will thus attend thee,

Blessed peace from His dear Son,
And when all thy work is over,

May'st thou hear the glad" Well done."

A. F. E.

We ought not to judge of the merit of a man by his great

qualities, but by the use which he makes of them.

THE FAMILY.

BY A CLERGYMAN.

We find the following in the Friend of Virtue, and we would gladly re-echo its sentiments within the home of every family where the sunny smiles of childhood and buoyant hopes of youth have found a place :

There are four things which are necessary to the healthy growth of a country-School, State, Church, Family. But I am not without serious apprehension, that in the working of the Family we are in deeper dereliction than in the working of the School, the State, or the Church.

This, let it be said in the first place, is primary to the other three. It is so, not only in the order of time, but in the importance of its agency, and the permanency, for good or for evil, of its impressions. You see marks of the Family on the child in School, on the citizen in the State, on the Christian in the Church. The family does a work upon children, and that is apon every body, that nothing else can do, and that nothing else can undo. The family mark, made upon the child, he carries through life, and forever. All primary, as I said. From late planting, or early frosts, let the cotton be a poor staple,—and the growers and manufacturers know what that means, and no matter how perfect your mills, or how practiced your operatives, your sheetings and your calicos come out a failure. But be there in the cotton a prime staple, and even rickety mills and unskilled hands will hardly spoil it. It will come out, at worst, a kind of self-made fabric, in which you will still find strength and firmness of texture, however the fine finish may be wanting.

This primary institution, the family, is with us. The laws recognize it; the Church recognizes it; public opinion recognizes it. We have it. The fanatical reformers who would explode it have gone, where all their followers must go, to the "dead sea."

The Family is with us; but I tremble to see how it is worked. I fear its "staple" is running down. There is so much of late