HAPPINESS

OF

CHILDREN.

BY MRS. EMMA C. EMBURY.

HAPPINESS

the careless enjoyment of mere animal spirits is so essential to the well-being of children, that it has been wisely made a law of their nature. Early youth ought to be the season of gayety. The cares which come upon us in later life, would, if inflicted upon the heart of youth, crush out all its energies and leave it a useless wreck. The capacity for happiness, the power of finding enjoyment in every thing the eye beholds, or the hands grasp, seem wisely and mercifully given to the child, in order that all his powers may expand to vigorous life, beneath the sunshine; for it is most certain, that habitual suffering or irritation will destroy all symmetry of mind, by expanding some of the mental powers to an unnatural degree, while it depresses others. The child, who has been accustomed to the harsh rebuke, the bitter taunt, the frequent punishment, and hasty blow, will, nine cases in ten, grow up prematurely wise in worldly lore, but with an impaired moral sense; or else will have all its faculties benumbed, and become stupid, if it escapes becoming wicked. The noblest lessons of virtue are taught in the school of adversity; but it will not do to apply the lessons too early, lest in bending the twig we break the future tree.

LITERARY NOTICES.

HARPER'S ILLUMINATED BIBLE. - Published by Harper & Brothers. New York City. 1844.

Two numbers of this costly and splendid work have been issued. It is to be published in numbers, at the low price of twenty-five cents each, and embellished with SIXTEEN HUNDRED historical engravings, exclusive of an initial letter to each chapter, more than fourteen hundred of which are from original designs. It will contain Marginal References, the Apochrypha, a Concordance, Chronological Table, List of Proper Names, General Index, Table of Weights, Measures, &c., together with a Family Record and a Presentation Plate.

The mechanical execution of this superb work, is in the highest perfection of art. No adequate opinion can be formed of it from any description we can give. Of the reading matter, we can speak in the highest praise; as it is altogether the most interesting and best book which ever was published, or ever will be.

For sale at the bookstores in this city.

TEXAN SANTA FE EXPEDITION. - Harper & Brothers. New York. 1844.

This is a narrative of a tour through Texas and across the great southwestern prairies, the Camanche and Caygua hunting-grounds, with an account of the sufferings from want of food, losses from hostile Indians, and final capture of the Texans, and their march as prisoners, to the city of Mexico, by GEORGE W. KENDALL, editor of the New Orleans Picayune. It is in two volumes, and contains a number of illustrations and a map.

This is probably the most interesting book of travels which has been issued from the press for some length of time. The adventures of the author are full of novelty, and his descriptions are fraught with instructive information. His sketch of the Mexican character bears evidence of truth and faithfulness, although he was denied, as he says, the privilege of viewing aught save the darker shades of life while within the limits of that republic.

Each volume contains more than four hundred pages.

THE CYPRESS WREATH: a Book of Consolation for those who Mourn. Edited by Rev. RUFUS W. GRISWOLD. Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. 1844.

This is a beautiful little pocket volume of 128 pages, being a selection of choice pieces, in poetry and prose, from a great variety of authors, adapted ‘to the heart-broken and the desponding who linger among the tombs. Every sufferer may find in it some leaf or flower whose fragrance may calm the overflowing bursts of grief into tears of tender recollection, and haply lead his soul to drink of the 'fountain of living waters.'

THE

LADY'S FRIEND.

YOUNG LADY'S

AN AFFECTING TALE OF TRUTH.

The following touching and interesting relation is from the pen of MRS. LYDIA M. CHILD, of New York City, the same lady who took such an interest in the fate of Amelia Norman. We understand that it is a plain, unvarnished narrative of facts. ED.

In a city, which shall be nameless, there lived, long ago, a young girl, the only daughter of a widow. She came from the country, and was as ignorant of the dangers of a city, as the squirrels of her native fields. She had glossy black hair, gentle, beaming eyes, and lips like wet coral.' Of course, she knew that she was beautiful; for when she was a child, strangers often stopped as she passed, and exclaimed, 'How handsome she is!' And as she grew older, the young men gazed on her with admiration. She was poor, and removed to the city to earn her living by covering umbrellas. She was just at that susceptible age, when youth is passing into womanhood; when the soul begins to be pervaded by that restless principle, which impels poor humans to seek perfection in union.'

At the hotel opposite, Lord HENRY STUART, an English nobleman, had at that time taken lodgings. His visit to this country is doubtless well remembered by many, for it made a great sensation at the time. He was a peer of the realm, descended from the royal line, and was, moreover, a strikingly handsome man, of right princely carriage. He was subsequently a member of the British Parliament, and is now dead.

As this distinguished stranger passed to and from his hotel, he encountered the umbrella-girl, and was impressed by her

uncommon beauty. IIe easily traced her to the opposite store, where he soon after went to purchase an umbrella. This was followed up by presents of flowers, chats by the way-side, and invitations to walk or ride; all of which were gratefully accepted by the unsuspecting rustic. He was playing a game, for temporary excitement; she, with a head full of romance, and a heart melting under the influence of love, was unconsciously endangering the happiness of her whole life.

Lord Henry invited her to visit the public gardens on the Fourth of July. In the simplicity of her heart, she believed all his flattering professions, and considered herself his bride elect; she therefore accepted the invitation, with innocent frankness. But she had no dress fit to appear on such a public occasion, with a gentleman of high rank, whom she verily supposed to be her destined husband. While these thoughts revolved in her mind, her eye was unfortunately attracted by a beautiful piece of silk, belonging to her employer. Ah, could she not take it, without being seen, and pay for it secretly, when she had earned money enough? The temptation conquered her in a moment of weakness. She concealed the silk, and conveyed it to her lodgings. It was the first thing she had ever stolen, and her remorse was painful. She would have carried it back, but she dreaded discovery. She was not sure that her repentance would be met in a spirit of forgiveness.

On the eventful Fourth of July, she came out in her new dress. Lord Henry complimented her upon her elegant appearance; but she was not happy. On their way to the gardens, he talked to her in a manner which she did not comprehend. Perceiving this he spoke more explicitly. The guileless young creature stopped, looked in his face with mournful reproach, and burst into tears. The nobleman took her hand kindly, and said, My dear, are you an innocent girl?' 'I am, I am,' replied she, with convulsive sobs. Oh, what have I ever done, or said, that you should ask me that?' Her words stirred the. deep fountains of his better nature. If you are innocent,' said he, God forbid that I should make you otherwise. But you accepted my invitations and presents so readily, that I supposed

you understood me. 'What could I understand,' said she, 'except that you intended to make me your wife?' Though reared amid the proudest distinctions of rank, he felt no inclination to smile. He blushed and was silent. The heartless conventionalities of life stood rebuked in the presence of affectionate simplicity. He conveyed her to her humble home, and bade her farewell, with a thankful consciousness that he had done no irretrievable injury to her future prospects. The remembrance of her would soon be to him as the recollection of last year's butterflies. With her, the wound was deeper. In her solitary chamber she wept, in bitterness of heart, over her ruined air castles. And that dress, which she had stolen to make an appearance befitting his bride! Oh, what if she should be discovered? And would not the heart of her poor, widowed mother break, if she should ever know that her child was a thief? Alas, her wretched forebodings were too true. The silk was traced to her; she was arrested on her way to the store, and dragged to prison. There she refused all nourishment, and wept incessantly.

On the fourth day, the keeper called upon Isaac T. Hopper, and informed him that there was a young girl in prison, who appeared to be utterly friendless, and determined to die by starvation. The kind-hearted old gentleman immediately went to her assistance. He found her lying on the floor of her cell, with her face buried in her hands, sobbing as if her heart would break. He tried to comfort her, but could obtain no answer. 'Leave us alone,' said he to the keeper. Perhaps she will speak to me, if there is none to hear.' When they were alone together, he put back the hair from her temples, laid his hand kindly on her beautiful head, and said in soothing tones, My child, consider me as thy father. Tell me all thou hast done. If thou hast taken this silk, let me know all about it. I will do for thee as I would for a daughter; and I doubt not that I can help thee out of this difficulty.'

After a long time spent in affectionate entreaty, she leaned her young head on his friendly shoulder, and sobbed out, Oh, I wish I was dead. What will my poor mother say, when she knows of my disgrace?'