satisfaction he enjoyed in reflecting that all which human power and skill could do to improve the condition of his pupil, had been done; but, he could not but think also, that the patience and resignation which he had witnessed in him during all his sufferings, might be traced to the instructions which he had received at the Sunday school.

The other circumstance which I would mention, occurred at the same school, and in the same class. A lad who had attended there for two or three years, on being about to leave the city with his parents, called on his teacher the day previous, to take his leave of him. After some conversation together, in which the teacher recalled to the mind of his pupil the instruction and advice he had received, and they were about to separate, the lad slowly extended his youthful hand as if with a wish to press his teacher's before leaving him, which was perceived and the feeling of affection quickly reciprocated ; and while thus hand in hand, he distinctly said, and the tear which was seen to flow at the same time, shew the feeling with which it was uttered, "I thank you, sir, for all your kind advice to me, and hope I shall never for

get it."

"Thus speaks affection, ere the youthful eye

Can look regard, or brighten in reply."

If so,

Reader-are you a Sunday school teacher? spare not your exertions-persevere faithfully in your duty-" Cast your bread upon the waters," and it shall be returned to you, and to them a thousand fold. And perhaps you may be permitted to witness results from your labors, similar to those I have mentioned, which would induce you to say with this teacher in the gratitude of your heart, "Verily I have my reward."

G.

MY EARLY DAYS. By Walter Ferguson, Esq. Boston, Bowles & Dearborn. 18mo. pp. 148.

Next to the influence of living examples, that of books is undoubtedly the strongest to which the young mind is subjected. Many there are, who if they could trace distinctly the whole of their intellectual history, would find the first wrong bias of a perverted imagination, or a continually erring judgment of men and things, to have been `received from an ill chosen book; while there are others whose dearest and most delightful recollections hover over the hours spent in reading the careful selections of a pious and judicious mother.

Those books which exert the most direct and lasting influence on the young mind are undoubtedly of the narrative kind. The reader enters into the feelings of the fictitious personages, and remembers every circumstance and scene of the story with almost a personal interest. He gives himself up with all the ingenuousness and enthusiasm of youth to the writer's power; is carried along with the current of the narrative, regards the hero as his friend, and rejoices at his happiness, or weeps at his ruin, when he closes the volume. The works which are read when the mind and heart are thus open to their influence, should be such as are written under a deep sense of the presence of that Being, who will call to a strict account, all who have taken upon themselves the solemn responsibility of authorship. Of this class is the volume under consideration. With the full conviction which we have expressed of the important influence of our early reading on the sentiments and character, we would unhesitatingly

recommend this work to the notice of all whose duty it is to select books for young persons.

It is one of the least recommendations of" My Early Days," that it is written in a masterly style, one which might safely be studied as a model of composition. Its principal charm consists in its graphic and touching delineations of those scenes of school-boy life, and fireside enjoyments which every one remembers with a smile and a sigh, which come to us in our dreams, when we have arrived at mature age, and are viewed in a softer light at our decline. No one can read this volume who has lived through the laughing days of childhood, without casting back many a pensive thought upon those happy moments, nor can any one fail to observe at the same time, the direction which his own character has received from circumstances and prejudices then almost unconsciously submitted to.

The early days of Walter Ferguson, differed in no important point from those of a thousand others, at least until he came to that event, which gave the colour to his fate; and the popularity which the work has already acquired, and which will doubtless continue to increase, is owing, in no small degree, to the circumstance that every one feels while reading it, that he is reading some passages, at least, in the history of his own mind.

But we are anticipating the story. It is a simple one. Walter is the son of a Scottish dissenting clergyman, who is settled in Ireland. His recollections commence with the tender care bestowed by his parents on his education at the fireside, and nothing can exceed the simplicity and pathos with which he describes this interesting period of his early days. The following is a beautiful picture.

"I can yet fancy that I see my beloved preceptress sitting-as many a time she did in the calm evenings, on the rustic bench, which my father's ingenuity had constructed in front of our cottage, and which, on that account, was doubly dear to her-the rosycheeked girl at her foot, plucking the tops off the daisies that grew around her, the half-smiling, half-serious, look of ill-repressed affection which I received when, with the arch cunning natural to childhood, I wilfully misunderstood my lessons, that I might have the pleasure of hearing her repeat them,-my father, at the open window, occasionally lifting his eyes from the book in which he was reading, the delighted glance of intelligence that passed between them when my boyish prattle happened on some observation uncommon at my years, and the fond kiss that followed that glance; these are among the number of those sacred recollections on which memory loves to linger to the last hour of our being."

The important period arrives when he is to be placed. at a day school, and a description of the school-house, his master and classmates, and an account of his schoolboy friendships and adventures, follow, all in a strain of exalted morality and touching pathos, which must find its way to every feeling heart. The high-minded principles which governed his conduct at this interesting season, are such as to furnish an invaluable example to a school-boy. There is no ingenuous youth who would not feel the influence of Walter's noble sentiments and conduct in several of the adventures of this period.

He leaves the school and prosecutes his classical studies under his father's care, until a young heir-apparent to a baronet, a spoiled child, becomes the companion of his studies. The former part of the volume furnished examples. Here commences the lesson of warning. Gerald Fitz Maurice is almost a personification of seductive pleasure-intellectual pleasure, too, for he has wit, fancy,

good humor, and the most fascinating manners, all without the shadow of moral principle. How many a youth has imbibed the bad principles of such a companion, while he flattered himself that he was only admiring his talents!

Walter passes a month at the splendid mansion of the Baronet, and his early habits of virtue are beginning to give way to the power of bad example, when a return to his father's house nearly restores him to his former self and to happiness. But he is invited to pay a farewell visit to Gerald on the occasion of his leaving the country for Dublin; and on his setting out to return home on the Sabbath morning, accompanied by his friend, he is persuaded to turn aside from the road and from the path of duty at the same time, and go to the sea-shore, to venture off in a boat to an island, which Gerald had been expressly forbidden by his parents to visit. On their attempting to return the boat is upset, Gerald is drowned, and Walter taken up in a state of insensibility. His mother, whose health is delicate, receives a shock on hearing the false intelligence that it was her son who was lost, which occasions her death.

The consequences to Walter are a temporary derangement, a broken constitution, and a long train of nervous sufferings. He returns to the paths of virtue, passes his days in scientific pursuits, and becomes heir to a fortune, when far advanced in life. We give the closing sentences for the sake of the admonition they contain.

"My years might have been longer in the land, had I honored my parents as I ought to have done. They would most certainly have been much happier. I have got sufficient warning to set my house in order-let me be watchful that the last hour may not have the