oted to education.
If we could only rightly reflect, on the true end of education, this
serious waste could never be. What is it I ask? is it merely to
acquire a certain amount of rudimental information, and perhaps a
superficial acquaintance with showy accomplishments? assuredly not: it
is to learn how to think rightly, that we may by thinking rightly,
know how to act so. Rudimental instruction is necessarily the
foundation; and as such, must be duly and _fully_ appreciated; but it
is the _application_ of knowledge that education is meant to teach,
and this must be acquired by "line upon line and precept upon precept;
here a little and there a little," it is not the work of a day; nor is
it to be gained by alternate periods at school. Who know but those who
teach, half the time that is required to recover what is lost in these
frequently recurring, temporary absences. It is not only a large
portion of rudimental instruction that is lost; but those _many_
opportunities, which every conscientious teacher eagerly, and
anxiously, avails herself of, to enforce good principles. This can be
done at no stated periods, but they must be seized as circumstances
call them forth, whether suggested by the teachings of the sacred
writings, or from the ample pages of history: or even from the lesson
she may convey from the sentiment that often heads a child's simple
copy book. If these, lost and frittered away periods, be of no
account, then there is both time and money thrown away by those who
are regular in their scholastic attendance.

Most amply was Mrs. Willoughby's sedulous care in the education of her
daughter, repaid; what comforts it brought to her orphan children; and
to how many would it prove equally serviceable, and save them from
eating the bitter bread of dependence.

It was but little in consonance with the state of Helen's feelings, to
mix with strangers so soon after her beloved mother's death, and most
gladly would she have declined going back in the evening, and proposed
to send an apology, and say she would be with Mrs. Sherman early the
following day; but Mrs. Cameron, whom she consulted, and upon whose
advice she generally acted, strongly advised her to go, and take Fanny
with her, as Mrs. Sherman had requested.

"Situate as you are my dear," said she, "you owe it to yourself, and
the dear children, to make as many friends as you can. The Shermans
are kind-hearted, and I may say influential people, and may do