ce can in reality
injure true dignity of character. I would not cramp a boy's energies
by compelling him always to cut wood, or draw water; but I would teach
him not to be ashamed, should his companions happen to find him doing
either one or the other. A few days since, I asked a grocer's lad to
bring home some articles I had just purchased at his master's. The
bundle was large; he was visibly reluctant to take it; and wished very
much that I should send for it. This, however, was impossible; and he
subdued his pride; but when I asked him to take back an empty bottle
which belonged to the store, he, with a mortified look, begged me to
do it up neatly in a paper, that it might look like a small package.
Is this boy likely to be happier for cherishing a foolish pride, which
will forever be jarring against his duties? Is he in reality one
whit more respectable than the industrious lad who sweeps stores, or
carries bottles, without troubling himself with the idea that all the
world is observing his little unimportant self? For, in relation to
the rest of the world, each individual is unimportant; and he alone
is wise who forms his habits according to his own wants, his own
prospects, and his own principles.

TRAVELLING AND PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS.

There is one kind of extravagance rapidly increasing in this country,
which, in its effects on our purses and our _habits_, is one of the
worst kinds of extravagance; I mean the rage for travelling, and
for public amusements. The good old home habits of our ancestors are
breaking up--it will be well if our virtue and our freedom do not
follow them! It is easy to laugh at such prognostics,--and we are well
aware that the virtue we preach is considered almost obsolete,--but
let any reflecting mind inquire how decay has begun in all republics,
and then let them calmly ask themselves whether we are in no danger,
in departing thus rapidly from the simplicity and industry of our
forefathers.

Nations do not plunge _at once_ into ruin--governments do not change
_suddenly_--the causes which bring about the final blow, are scarcely
perceptible in the beginning; but they increase in numbers, and in
power; they press harder and harder upon the energies and virtue of a
people; and the last steps only are alarmingly hurried and irregular.
A republic without industry, economy, and integrity, is Samson
shorn of his locks. A luxurious and idle _republic_! Look at the
phrase!--The words wer