he had the happy faculty of putting the minds of all he addressed, even to the youngest and weakest, at once into the full possession of his ideas. This, with a good understanding of human nature, and of human nature, particularly, as developed in the philosophy of the young head and the young heart, to enable him to know how, when, and where to interest, incite, check, and control, together with a temperament of his own, and a general discrimination to insure a judicious application of his other faculties, combined to make him that invaluable acquisition to society a good schoolmaster; one who, if adequately rewarded, would do his part in throwing the full light of science, within the gliding years of half a generation, over the mind of a nation.

The instruction of a teacher of the character we have just described, was a new thing to Locke Amsden. And it is needless for us to say, perhaps, how the advantages thus furnished him were improved. The first week he spent in looking up, and obtaining from his teacher, explanations and illustrations of all the knotty points which he had left unmastered in his course of mathematics. When all these were clearly understood and familiarized to his mind, he commenced, in good earnest, his onward progress. Day and night, almost unceasingly, applying every energy of his mind, he soon finished what remained yet to be studied of the ordinary course of mathematics, and thence passed on into and through physics, or natural philosophy, astronomy, and even a considerable portion of fluxions, with a rapidity and comprehension of what he passed over, which perfectly astonished his instructor; who, unwilling to check him in a career where he was accomplishing so much which was important, and which is so often neglected after the pupil is put upon more seductive studies, had thus far suffered him to bestow nearly his undivided attention to the branches we

have enumerated. But as the school drew to a close, that instructor began to direct the attention of his favorite scholar to studies which had never, or not so particularly, occupied his mind. After a course of delicate questioning, calculated, with one of his turn, to make him keenly feel his own ignorance, and, at the same time, to furnish incentives to action, the former opened to the wondering and longing view of the latter the necessity and advantage of exploring other departments in the wide field of learning. And, fired with new zeal at the prospect, our young aspirant, as he was thus made to see before him

now became doubly ambitious to mount their glittering steeps. But the close of the school, which was now at hand, precluded all opportunity, for the present at least, of entering upon this glorious field of exertion; and, with peculiar regret and sorrow, he was compelled to bid adieu to his beloved instructor, relinquish study, and return to the labors of the farm.

After the termination of this school, Locke found himself in a different situation from what he had ever been in before, at least, since he had begun the work of self-education. The books which had been presented him by the kind strangers around whose fondly-remembered images, fancy, as he grew older, was daily throwing a more romantic interest had all been studied, and their contents mastered; and, as he was unable to procure others upon those branches which he next wished to peruse, he now found himself without any food for his hungering mind, or at least such as would satisfy a mind like his, whose desires, instead of being appeased, were now tenfold increased. And from this state of unsatisfied longings, without employment for his mental energies in the present, and without hope to encourage him to look forward

with certainty to any period when his inclinations could be gratified in the future, fancy began to obtrude her illusive creations into those chambers of thought which before had been devoted to the operations of reason. He became absent, moody, and despondent, and was fast falling a prey to a morbid imagination-a malady than which, for strong and sensitive minds, nothing scarcely is more to be dreaded; for

"Woe to the youth whom Fancy gains,
Winning from Reason's hands the reins;
Pity and woe for such a mind

Is soft, contemplative, and kind."

In vain did his father attempt to rouse him from his almost continual reverie - in vain attempt to repress those secret desires which he well knew to be the leading cause of his abstraction, and awaken an interest for business. But he little understood the nature of the mind he attempted to control; for as well may we attempt to chain the lightnings of heaven, as the soul really thirsting after knowledge. Such a mind may be thwarted, chilled, ruined; but it can never be so far restrained as to be moulded to other purposes, at least till opportunity be allowed for its ruling desires to become, in some good degree, sated. The father, wholly failing, at length gave up the attempt in vexation and despair; but another, who better understood the nature of the mind thus diseased, and the only remedies which could effect its cure, now undertook the task, and was successful.

One evening, as Locke sat alone in an open window, vacantly, and in moody thoughtfulness, gazing out at the rising moon, or the stars that were fading in her overpowering beams, his mother gently approached, and took a seat by his side.

"Locke," said she, in kind and gentle tones, after sitting a moment without appearing to attract the attention of the

other, "Locke, your father complains that you are unusually inattentive to business, this summer.”

"Complains? Well, he is always complaining of me — I can do nothing right; but brother Benjamin he can do nothing wrong."

"It is possible, indeed, that you may sometimes get more censure than you should, and your brother more praise than he deserves, in the contrast which one of your father's turn would naturally draw between you. But still, Locke, I fear you have given too much cause for these complaints. I have myself often noted your neglect and heedlessness; and I now put it to your own conscience, my son, whether such a course is right, is justifiable, in you?"

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Perhaps I may sometimes do wrong, in these respects, though it is not because I am unwilling to work - to do right. But you know how anxious I am to study, and may be, I think too much about that, to be as quick and ready as some. Still, I cannot help it; I have almost every thing yet to learn, and I must know, O mother, I must know!"

"I see, Locke, that your whole heart is set on being a great scholar. But scholarship alone, my son, will never make you truly great or happy. It is not the one thing needful; it brings not the pearl of great price. It may, indeed, bring you, as I once read in the works of some poet,

"The world's applause, perhaps the prince's smile,
And flattery's pois'nous potions, smooth as oil;
The poet's laurel, or the victor's palm ;

But not one drop of Gilead's precious balm."

"I have often heard you speak of religion, mother, and I have never denied its importance; but I have never before heard you speak in this manner of learning. You surely do not hold it so lightly as one might think from what you have just said, do you?"

"I hold it lightly only, my son, when compared with the things of heaven. It would be my highest ambition to see you, as you enter life, a religious and an educated man."

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Why, then, mother, are you not willing I should be allowed an opportunity to obtain an education ? "

"I am, Locke - I am willing - even desirous; but such an education as I fear our means would be sufficient to afford you, would not, I suppose, satisfy you. And yet, seeing how much your mind is set upon it, I have lately been thinking, that something might, and perhaps should now, be done for you. If a year to a good academy would serve

"Oh! if I could go a whole year! But father would

never consent to it."

"Judge not too hastily, Locke; perhaps he will consent to it. Your brother has grown to a lusty and active boy, and you might now be much better spared; that is, after the present work-season is over. And that is as soon as I shall be able to fit you out with the necessary clothing. But suppose, Locke, I should try to intercede with your father for you, would you take hold of business as you ought, till after harvesting?"

"I would try, mother; and if you will bring father to the promise, I think — indeed, I know that neither he or you shall have reason to complain of me any more.”

"Well, then, my son, go to your rest now, and get up in the morning with a cheerful look, and go to your business like a man with his senses about him; and, within a few days, we will see what can be done.”

Locke did as his mother had advised; and, two days afterwards, his father made the glad announcement of the permis