Southern telegraph. (Rodney, Miss.) 1834-1838, 1838-05-02
CHILDHOOD.
"Oh, give me still the memories
That hallow every scene,
Which stirred my bounding bosom,

When existence all was green"
! love children. delight to listen to
their innocent pranlc, and to take part in
their litIle amusemenis--t0 feel commu-
uty OF interest with them, in their little en-
ioymenis and recreations. There is no
thing on earth so unaffected, so open, so
frank as childhood. How the light laugh
gurgics up from their young ard unsophisii-
Gated hearts! They have not been out in
to the world-thsy have not yet learned to
disguise their cmotione-to dissemble--to
smile, when their hearts are ranking with
envy or hate, or to weep, when they Sc
cretIy rejoice. They arc as an open book,
in which one may read all that they are
all that they feel.
There are not wanting those, who have
an utter aversion to children who well
nigh hate them. For myself, | w,alt little
better evidence of a bad and ungenerous
bertrand prone as am to think kindly Of
my species, | could almost say, "Let no
such man be trusted" He can have small
enjoyment in himself, and is certainly little
calculated TO contribute to the happiness of
others, who cannot look with pure pleas.
ure upon the innocence, and srtlessness,
and hilarity Il youth. To me, the playful
sports, the laughing countenances, the
beaming eyes of children, unpracised, as
yet, in the busy world upon which they are
entering with such light heart. are a com
pleie anti'dote against cnnUi, or depression
Of spirits.
] remember, that during a residence of
one summer in the city many years ago
for, gentle reader, am declining into the
vale Of years. was, for a few of the first
weeks, exceedingly lonely. There is no
solitude like the solitude which stranger
feels in large and populous city. You
meet thousands in the thronging streets, all
passing on, intent upon their own omuse-
ments and avocations--and it is thousand
times more cherries than to be in the still
and solemn forests of the wilderness, or by
the solitary shore Of the "great and wide
sea.n You have there the communings Of
your own heart, aud the almost visible
presence of the Maker of the World. But
in the city, your thoughts are confused, -
their variety leaves you no time to reflect
and they weary you into the very depths
of gloom.
One Saturday afternoon, when despond
ency sat heavy at my heart, ! sailed out
into the streets. II WIS the holiday from
the thraldom of the schooIs--and their
young inmates, neatly dressed, and happier
than The king on his throne, were taking
thoir n,St,,oa ood r,n,bl;n1 NTH ,Ia;- ,,n
rents, or elder brothers and sisters, about
the streets. | was soon inoculated with
their visible happiness, as met them in my
lonely walk. How many bright faces
cleaned upon me! You look kindly upon
children, and how soon do they understand
you! How their young eyes will beam up
on you, and how they will turn,-especial-
Iy little girIs--ind look at you, and blush,
and smie--and pass on a little, and turn,
and smile, and blush, and look again!
know not how it is, but in gazing upon
children, | am actually invested as with a
spell. Time and space are annihilated--lI
am carried back TO the morning of life, and,
for The moment, live over again the early
days of the past.
Before had reached my room again, !
had all the familiar places of my childhood
before mo. 1t was, as if had seized the
hour glass of Time, inverted it, and rolled
back again the sands which had marked
the weary lapse of years. was again in
the meadow--in the ield--about the fire.
side hearth. My departed flther's voice
was again in my dreaming ear--my mo-
theirs hand was again upon my young
head. Again | saw my paper kite, in the
gentle south wind, cleaving the upper
! gazed upon the same ample sky
which spread over my boyhood-
And marked the passing clouds that dimmcd
its blue,
Like my own sorrows then, as aceting and as
few"
II is my earnest prayer, that as ] glide
slowly down the declivity of years, il will
please God to preserve in me that freshness
Of feeling, which enables me to look upon
and youth, with such purity of en-
Ioyment. Il beguiles life of its soInbrc spi-
rii, "aad the WEAKNESS Of the flesh, "--ahd
while il teaches us that we are recedlng
farther frmn the shore Of youth, il reminds
rs, also, that we are approaching that other
shore. whore we shall renew an existence
Of immortal youth. Let all, then, cultivate
and cherish these emotions. Let
"The bright thoughts of early days
Still gather in our memories now,
Aud not .he Inter cares, whose trace
Is stamp'd so deeply on the brow:
What though thase days return no morcl
The sweet re membrancc is not vain
For Heaven is waiting to restore
The childhood OF the soul again."
EDUcATIoS.---To ascribc mans good
ula lities IN his tu,nr IL al,out as wise ms Ia