reaches the end of his poetic grist. Had he not better unburden his overcharged brain in prose? I advise his friends to have an eye on him, as I do the friends of all such dreaming machinepoets, to watch over their erratic associates.

To enjoy this poem, I advise the reader to fill up the picture. A young man sitting at his table late at night, with a sheet of paper before him and pen in hand. Now and then impatiently running his bejewelled hand through his long, perfumed hair. Scratching his head as a hen scratches the turnpike in quest of grains of corn. Now pacing the room half frantically, then quickly rushing to the table as he finds the rhyming word wherewith to end the line. Then he throws himself back on a chair, his feet at least if not his genius elevated, or rather stuck aloft on the table. How he sighs for the divine afflatus, the inspiration of the muses! Strange they only and always balk in the fourth line. O, gentle reader, I charge thee pity the sorrows of this poor young man. But for the want of a word in the verse, what a Byron he might yet become! His last verse has at least truth if not poetry to commend it.

rhyme to month.)

We parted by the gates in June,

That soft and balmy month,

Beneath the sweetly beaming moon,

And (wonth-hunth-sunth-bunth-I can't find a

Years were to pass ere we should meet;

A wide and yawning gulf

Divides me from my love so sweet,

While (ulf-sulf—dulf—mulf-stuck again; I can't

get any rhyme for gulf. I'm in a gulf myself.)

to let it go at that.)

the world.)

O, how I dreaded in my soul

To part from my sweet nymph,

While years should their long seasons roll

Before (hymph-dymph--symph-I guess I'll have

Beneath my fortune's stern decree

My lonely spirits sunk,

For I a weary soul should be

And a (bunk-dunk-runk-sk-that will never do in

She buried her dear lovely face

Within her azure scarf,

She knew I'd take the wretchedness

As well as (parf-sarf-darf-harf-an'-harf.

That

won't answer either)

Ob, I had loved her many years,

not for her pelf.)

I loved her for herself;

I loved her for her tender tears,

I loved her for her (welf-nelf-helf-pelf-no, no,

say ouch!)

I took between her hands my head,
How sweet her lips did pouch!

I kissed her lovingly and said

(Bouch-mouch-louch-ouch! not a bit of it did I

I sorrowfully wrung her hand,
My tears they did escape,

My sorrow I could not command,

And I was but a (sape-dape-fape-ape-well, per

haps I did feel like an ape.)

I gave to her a fond adieu,

Sweet pupil of love's school;

I told her I would e'er be true,

And always be a (dool-sool-mool-fool! Since I

come to think of it, I was a fool, for she fell in love with another fellow before I was gone a month.)

ALL ABOUT DOCTOR WORTHINGTON HOOKER'S BOOKS.

BY PERKIOMEN.

Charles Dickens wrote a History of England for little people, a very important order of beings. In this he did well. I am sure one little girl will read and like it, if God will, though I may not urge her to read anything else he has written. It condemns in a measure, much that he had better left unsaid.

Mrs. Abby Sage Richardson, has just completed a like History of the United States. This will cover, in her case too, I trust, a multitude of faults. But I want to speak of and direct attention to, an admirable Series of Books, intended for the family and the school, embracing smaller and larger pupils, because it may not be as familiar and common to the "Guardian's many and good friends, as such an order of books should be. I am one of those parents who feel very much obliged to Doctor Worthington Hooker, Professor in Yale College, for whatever progress their offspring have made and continue to make in the Natural Sciences, without, at the same time, making little Darwins, Huxleys or Tyndals, out of them. Let all householders, that are casting about for a good Family-Library, wherewith to entertain and instruct the younger members, and themselves even, at once order the Doctor's books, and take "Perkiomen" as security against imposition or disappointment. He would almost be willing to

take them off their hands, in case they should not prove a satisfactory investment of their monies. It is because I have been practically testing their excellent worth, for some years, in the hands of a little girl, that I venture to indulge in such positive assertions. Our Family-School was opened with Hooker's "Child's Book of Nature." I can best present some idea of the book by quoting the words of a gifted mother concerning it:

"I cannot tell you, how much pleasure I have had in teaching the Child's Book of Nature to my little daughter. In giving my opinion of that work, I am also expressing the opinion of several other mothers of my acquaintances, who agree with me in pronouncing it the very best book of the kind which we have ever found. It is so plain and simple in its arrangement, that any child of common capacity, can learn it with ease and remember it well. The subjects upon which it treats, are of a kind to interest all children, and the pleasant way in which you bring them forward, is sure to awaken their powers of observation and comparison, and better still to lead them through Nature up to Nature's God."

It is without doubt, a glorious Text-Book, and can be read on the Lord's Day even, with as much aid to one's devotion, as threefourths of our Sunday-School volumes. The instructor, be he father or mother-and with a diploma lying back, indeed! will find himself pleasuring along with his ward, to their mutual

recreation.

Whoever knows and has become familiar with it, will send likewise for Hooker's "Child's Book of Common Things." Teacher and pupil will daily see more markedly how many have eyes without learning to see; or how absurd it is, to chase after wonders lying far off, and be stone-blind to a perfect sea of them, round about us.

And this book of wonders will create a desire to see, and go over Hooker's "First Book in Chemistry." This is the way by which his Primer on Chemistry came to the surface. An intelligent woman wrote to him thus: "It seems to me that an elementary book on Chemistry would be interesting to children." The Doctor acted on the suggestion at once. He found time and cherished the desire to go into the public schools of New Haven, and gather the children around himself to learn by experimenting, how far little folks, from eleven to thirteen years of age, might wish and be able to know anything about Chemistry. He was surprised and delighted to find how much of the Science lay within their capacity, and how interesting it proved to them. He jotted down results, and forth came the book-right out of the school-room, you see. Rely on it, he is a grand Professor, and will never die of dignity!

Somebody then wrote him a congratulatory letter, and asked him to march on in the good way of leading little minds onward. He obeyed, and out came Hooker's "First Book on Physiology," on a level with all that had gone before.

Now his little folks wouldn't stay little. He had set them a thinking, and they thought on and learned on. Then came requests and urgings from all quarters-"More Books-more books, Professor!" Accordingly he issued Hooker's "Science for the School and the Family." This step in the gradation brought us three books under one title, viz; Part I. Natural Philosophy; Part II. Chemistry; Part III. Mineralogy and Geology. We will only say, that those parents who would have their children to know so much of Nature, as everybody ought to know, and have them to gain such knowledge, in the most easy and attractive style, can do no better than secure Hooker's Series.

We will add, since Spring is upon us, and you will likely walk abroad upon fields and lawns, to show your children flowers, you might as well, get and carry along Hooker's "Introduction to Botany." Having this, you have all that he has published, thus far. We say, thus far!

We quote from one of his prefaces the following paragraph "Daniel Webster, in his Autobiography, speaks thus of his entering upon the study of Law: 'I was put to study in the old way that is the hardest books first, and lost much time. I read Coke on Littleton through without understanding a quarter part of it. Happening to take up Espinasse's Law of Nisi Prius, I found I could understand it; and arguing that the object of reading was to understand what was written, I laid down the venerable Coke and such, and kept company for a time, with Mr. Espinasse and others, the most plain, easy and intelligible writers. A boy of twenty, with no previous knowledge on such subjects, cannot understand Coke. It is folly to set him on such an author. Why disgust and discourage a boy, by telling him that he must break into his profession through such a wall as this? I really often despaired. I thought that I never could make myself a lawyer, and was almost going back to the business of school-keeping. Mr. Espinasse, however, helped me out of this in the way that I have mentioned, and I have always felt greatly obliged to him.""

Here we have most graphically depicted the prominent defect, in all the departments of education-from the primary school up, throughout the college and Professional institute. "The hardest books first," or Coke before Espinasse is the general rule. This is especially true of the Physical Sciences. They are postponed to the latter part of one's educational course, and then only a little

of them. Some readers will be a little angry at me, for pronouncing the mature sciences a failure in our schools and colleges. Sorry to make any one angry, indeed; but the truth ought to be spoken. They are a delightful study. Tyndal's audiences prove that the people like to know of them. Why not cure a radical wrong, and give the masses an open easy door to their domain? Yet the people know something of them, and a few materialists will not monopolize them to the detriment of society and humanity. Doctor Hooker is on the right path. Families and schools will study his science-made-easy works. I am quite sure some one will write of Hooker, as Webster wrote of Espinasse, and the rest of us will believe it all.

OUR BIRTH-DAY AND HOME FESTIVALS.

BY THE EDITOR.

"I congratulate myself that my birth was when it was: for I might have been born in Greece, and yet not in Athens; in Athens and yet not have been a Christian; in the first century I might have been born a Christian, but have lived all my life as a sand digger, at Rome, in what are now called the Catacombs. But I was born into a richer world than Milton was, or than Jeremy Taylor, or than Newton; for I was born into a world that has become the more glorious for their having felt, and thought, and spoken in it.

And next after my early baptism in the name of Jesus Christ, I thank God for my mother-tongue's having been English; for by this I was made heir to the mind of Shakespeare; owner of a key to the treasure house of Locke's thought; one acquainted with Sir Thomas Browne's worth and oddity; free of a church-sitting under Sir Isaac Barrow; a fishing companion of Isaac Walton's; and one to differ from Bishop Ken, and yet to love him." It is all just so, save what he says about the English tongue. True for him it may have seemed or been a thankworthy boon to have had the English for his mother tongue. And for many an other earnest soul it is a blessing equally precious to have the German for his mother tongue, thereby is made heir to the mind of Luther, whose words are half-battles, and Goethe, and Schleiermacher, and a long list of men whose writings and lives are the thought granary from which the nations of the earth derive the seed for their systems and theories of thinking and living.

The time and place of our birth have much to do in shaping our life and destiny. Had we been born 1873 years before instead of