'Ah, here is another," I said, peering into I admit. But we sometimes need extreme inthe book; "shall I read it?"

Of

whole weight to the obstinacy of his argument, | find an apple-tree fairly bubbling over with rapit snaps like an overtaxed rope, leaving you, asid blossoms, he would expect to find many apI may say, a prostrate victor. When he gives ples on that tree when summer came. in he does it so completely that you've nothing course he wouldn't. to say, and must just sit in silence, letting your unuttered arguments seethe within you till you cool off.

Perhaps it would be a more philosophical way to put it if I said, “How would you like your trees to pop forth early in the spring with

Surely we should regard with reverence the blossom-time of life. If we force it into premature fruitage we must expect to rear a sickly tree. And how much we lose if, in a slow, beautiful blossoming, we find not the exceeding joy that childhood brings to itself and to us.

I might have reminded him of the wonder-full-grown fruit? Wouldn't you miss blossomful boyhood of Pascal, who found mathematics time? and wouldn't apples be likely to be all in his porridge, and was forced in his infantile gone before Christmas?" pursuit of geometry to call a circle a round, and a line a bar, because his wise father peremptorily withheld all book-knowledge of the subject from the precocious little one. Or I could have opened another biography and read to him of Bossuet, "The Eagle of Meaux," as his eulogists have called him. This wonderful creature, when only eight years of age, preached with unction at the Hôtel de Rambouillet. But, as we all know, he went on preaching, growing more and more able and eloquent as the years passed by, and died at last in a green old age. So his was not a citable case, in my regard. It would have been much more to the point to dwell upon the dull boyhood of some of the world's most eminent men. Of how Corneille was called a dunce by his schoolmaster; of how Master Walter Scott was the blockhead of his class; of how the poor sickly school-boy, New-Ah, the wrongs that are committed in this way ton, was always in trouble on account of inattention; and how impossible it was to make little Danny Webster speak his "piece" at school on declamation-days-how that was the one thing he couldn't and wouldn't do, any more than Philly would learn his letters.

Yet

Dwelling on my simile to illustrate another serious phase of the subject, I might ask Theoph how he would like to have the beautiful floral wonders stripped from his trees as soon as they appeared, and hung in fantastic garlands all about the outer limits of each branch. that is precisely what those mistaken souls do who turn the simple, beautiful ways of their children into drawing-room displays; who catch at every bright little saying as soon as it leaves the infantile lips, and, in the child's presence, dangle it before the admiring ears of guests.

-the holy childish impulses that are sent back, despoiled, into the wondering childish heart, there to wither to a little wisp of vanities!--the sweet music that springs forth unconsciously at first, but in time halts into discords, because it has learned to wait for the perverted maternal echo! Mothers, fathers- all who drink in happiness in the love you bear to little children

But Theoph might then have turned about and renewed the defense. He might have quoted, as he often had before, the childhood—revere the freshness of a young nature. Don't, of Galileo, of whom some old frump has said, please don't, let your weak, doting admiration, ecstatically, that, "while other little ones of or your still weaker pride of possession, put the his age were whipping their tops, he was scien- blight of self-consciousness upon it. I'd rather tifically considering the cause of their motion." see a child of mine playing with the molassesVery likely he would have thrown Dr. Johnson jug, just after I had dressed the little one in and Lord Jeffrey at me, both of whom are said its Sunday clothes, than to hear it speak “My to have been profoundly wise even in their pet-name is Norval," never mind how charmingly. ticoats. Then there was the great Frenchman, I'd almost rather it should have the measles as Gassendi, who was only four years of age when a chronic institution, than to see it ready at all the study of astronomy began to engross him; times to display its répertoire of accomplishand Humphrey Davy delivering scientific lec-ments before strangers. Luckily little ones are tures to his nursery chairs; and Dr. Arnold, not apt to fall into this latter accommodating glad at the ripe age of three to be presented habit. They rather protest with all their charmwith Smollett's "History of England." ing might against it.

No, it was better as it was. A relapse of the argument might prove more formidable than the original attack.

"Isn't it always so!" exclaimed a mother, in despairing tones, the other day. "Can you ever get a child to show off when you wish it Dear good Theoph! What differences of to?" And there sat her obdurate toddler, outopinion could ever come seriously between him wardly serene in its enjoyment of a candy bribe, and me! And yet there is a great deal to be which had stickied its little mouth and nose in said on the subject of juvenile precocity; and a remarkable way, but all aflame with inward if ever he goes dangerously back to his old determination not to sing "Bobby Shaftoe." views about Philly I shall have to say it. I'll"It's too bad," cooed the mother; "you ought tell him how direful a thing it nearly always is, this preternatural activity of the faculties. I'll read physiological essays to him, and I'll ask him whether, if he were to go out into his Long Island orchard on some mild day in March and

to hear him do it. He really has quite an ear
for music, and his pronunciation is irresistible."
Now
66 pronunciation" and "irresistible"
might not have been quite as comprehensible
terms to that baby as to the youthful Candiac

house plan of mental culture, has grown to be such an intelligent child, such a little lady!

I asked her the other day what she liked best of all she saw in Europe.

or to Master Heinecker; but there was one | Europe. One of these, under the modern hotthing he could understand, and that was the unguarded admiration of his mother; not her appreciation and love-those would have sunk into his child-soul like nourishing dews-but the admiration that, falling too often on a young nature, blights it, or forces it to a premature and unnatural growth.

Philly knows little songs, and long ago he could say:

"Who comes here? A grenadier!" etc.;

"Oh, the art-galleries, of course," she replied, demurely; "everybody likes those best." Poor child! Remembering her, with what comfort I recall a recent morning spent with the two other little travelers.

"So you have been to Europe," I said. "Now, Hal, tell me what place did you like best of all ?"

but we have always been very careful how and when we brought forward these accomplish- "Don't know," said Hal; "guess I liked ments. He knows that he can please us im-Munich best, cos they had the most sogers mensely by an exercise of all dramatic and there."

musical gifts. Before he grew so old and "And I think I liked Venice," put in wee, wise he believed that he frightened us terri-bright-eyed May; "because it was there that bly when, in saying that thrilling nursery lyric, he roared forth, "A granny-deer!" but now he just knows we enjoy his performances as he does ours, and we always make a point of giving a fair exchange in such entertainments.

mamma bought me this sweet little doll" (taking it up caressingly); "her name's Katie; I must finish putting on her clothes; it's very late in the morning for dolly not to be all washed and dressed, I think. Ah," she continued, plaintively, as she attempted to pin dolly's skirt, "this band is too big. Katie used to just fit it, but she's real thin now; she's lost so much saw-dust!"

Happy little May! Her days are fresh and simple and beautiful, because she is allowed to be a child. Whatever training is expended upon her is so loving and wise that she grows naturally into all that can be rationally expected of a child of her age. Her goodness is the goodness of a warm-hearted, unperverted little girl, who loves the dear God already "for making father and mother and every thing," but who has no startling Sunday-school

To be sure, if Philly, instead of being the simple, everyday child that he is, had proved to be an infant Mozart, with God-given genius shining from his eyes and twitching his restless little fingers, of course we should feel in duty bound to lift him up to the piano-stool. We would do this reverently, I think, and with joyful wonder-glad, too, that the progress of science and the arts had prepared for our dear boy something better than a clavichord. We might even encourage him to put his music upon paper, if his overflowing soul required that form of expression. Or, premising that we had seen marvelous cows, elephants, and dogs chalked on the nursery doors or on Phil-predilections, suggestive of an early transplantly's one-eyed and tailless hobby-horse, or if, ing. Her politeness comes from no formal when he was six years old, another Lady Ken- schooling, but is the simple outgrowth of the yon had walked in, and our precious little one "love one another" that comes of being loved had in half an hour drawn an excellent por--not of being doted upon, but of being loved trait of her, after the manner of the six-yearold Thomas Lawrence, does any one suppose that the maternal grasp would have robbed our boy's right hand of its cunning?

But he's not a Mozart. He's not any thing in particular, though he's every thing to us. He simply represents "a large and growing class of the community," as the newspapers say, and so his case is worthy of consideration. He's the average child (ah, how it hurts my motherly heart to write that, for it doesn't believe a word of it, thongh I do!), and, being the average child, we may all learn a lesson from him for the benefit of the present race of little ones.

We can resolve that for him all precocious development is hurtful: premature ability, premature politeness, premature pleasures, premature goodness even-Heaven shield him from them all! Heaven shield him and every other child from aught that will stiffen them too soon into little men and women!

I know three little tots, five and six years old, who lately have returned from a visit to

as God intended she should be.

May's pretty ways are, in her presence, never made the subject of admiring comment; nor are her sweet, childish sayings echoed by the mountains of appreciation by which children among the comfortable classes are so apt to be surrounded. If she asks a question it is thoughtfully answered; and if she makes any of those sweet, childish blunders in speech or conduct that often are the charm of our homes, they either are apparently not noticed at all at the time, or they are gently and cheerfully corrected. But never are they met by that domestic dyke, in the form of a general laugh or an encouraging deception, which invariably sends them back upon the child in an overflow of pain or bewilderment.

The fondest of us parents often are the most cruel to our children. This comes from selfishly regarding them as an especial personal gift to ourselves-something to delight and amuse us— while at the same time we forget that if they are given to us, just as surely are we given to them.

Mothers, when in your heart rises that first blessed thought, God has given to me a child!

me to thee. He has chosen me to be thy mother!"

Then with His help shall your little one be reared; no selfish fondness or pride shall rob it of its just rights; not a tithe shall be taken from its innocent, sweet babyhood, from its growing infancy, its blithesome childhood. Sufficient unto each day shall be its daily progress. Vanity shall not warp it, nor school-books crush, nor undue stimulus wrong it of its fair and just proportions.

then and there say: "Oh child! He has given | how inadequate the weight of the lead at the end of a sounding-line must be to its task of continuing to draw down the line after the part submerged gets to be four or five miles long— for that is the depth which the water attains in some parts of the Atlantic Ocean. When the weight is first thrown over the gunwale of the boat occupied by the party who have the operation in charge the line begins to run out quite rapidly; but it goes more and more slowly as the depth, and consequently the increasing friction resulting from the increasing length of the portion submerged, grow greater, until at length, after some hours-for of course it takes hours for such a traveler as the sinking weight to make a journey of five miles—the line creeps over the gunwale so slowly that those in charge are long in uncertainty whether the weight has reached the bottom or not. A very gentle undercurrent in the water, flowing

When you say, with the woman of old, "Lo, I have given a man unto the world!" be guarded lest you cheat it and Heaven too, by not allowing that man first to be, in the fullest sense, a little child.

DEEP-SEA SOUNDING.

NE might suppose that it would be the in a different direction from that of the surface,

to determine or even

depth of water by letting down a heavy weight to the bottom, by means of a line, and then measuring the length of the line.

Whether it is an easy thing or not to do this depends upon the depth of the water. If the water is shallow, it is a very easy thing. If the water is deep, instead of being an easy thing it proves to be exceedingly difficult.

There are two great difficulties to be en⚫ countered. One is to get the weight down to the bottom. The second, which is still greater than the first, is to get it up again, so as to measure the line. Both these difficulties arise from the enormous magnitude which the retarding force, resulting from the friction of the line through the water, acquires when the line has a length of some miles.

We feel so little resistance when we move the hand, or any other small object, through water, that it is difficult for us to understand how vast this resistance can become when the surfaces are extended.

People who have made voyages at sea are often surprised, when the "log" is thrown, to see how many men are required, and how great is the apparent exertion which they have to make, in drawing in again the line, thin and slender as it is. Although the line used on such occasions is only a hundred fathoms or thereabout in length, and the little quadrant called the log is so far detached from its hold at the end of it as to offer the least possible resistance, it requires the united strength of several men, following each other along the deck, with the line passing over their shoulders, to overcome the simple resistance which the friction of the line, in being drawn through the water, offers to its return to the ship.

tion, would drift the line enough to cause it to continue running off the reel long after the weight was at rest on the bottom.

These difficulties for a long time prevented the making of any reliable soundings at great depths. Some advantage was gained by improvements in the manufacture of the line employed, so as to obtain the greatest strength with the least thickness, and to make the specific gravity of it as nearly as possible that of the water.

For if the specific gravity were even only a little greater than that of the water, the weight of the line, when a great length was out, might be sufficient to continue to draw it off the reel without any aid from the lead at all, and without any drift, so that the line might continue to run out long after the lead had reached the bottom.

On the other hand, if the specific gravity of the line were somewhat less than that of the water, then it would have a certain buoyancy, the amount of which might become so great, after a considerable length had run out, as to float the lead and prevent its ever reaching the bottom at all.

It was not possible under the old methods to diminish the difficulty of taking deep soundings by increasing the weight of the plummet. For although this would facilitate the work of getting the line down, it would in a still greater proportion impede that of drawing it up again.

The invention of Mr. Brooke, an officer of the American navy, very ingeniously evades this dilemma, by making the weight extremely heavy, for the purpose of securing a prompt descent, and then, when it gets to the bottom, leaving it there, and drawing up the line alone. Not entirely alone, however, for a portion of the iron which forms the descending weight is made to detach itself from the rest, and comes up with the line, bringing with it a specimen of the sand, mud, or other formation constitut

Any one who has observed this operation at sea, and has noticed how much strength it requires on the part of the seamen to draw the log-line on board again at the end of it, when the line is after all not more than a quarter of a mile in length, will not be surprised to learning the bottom.

are held firmly, by their loops, upon the lower branches. But as soon as the lower end of the bar touches bottom the line slackens, and then the weight of the ball draws the branches down and lets the loop slip off, as shown in Figure 2. The round rod is now liberated, and can be drawn out from the perforation in the ball and brought to the surface, as shown in Figure 3.

The construction and operation of the ap-right position, and the wires of the supporter paratus are shown in the engraving. The instrument consists essentially of a heavy iron ball, with a cylindrical iron bar passing loosely through the centre of it. These are shown, in the position which they occupy while descending, in the central figure-the ball marked 1, being perforated to allow the round bar A to pass through it. The ball fits loosely to the bar, but it is kept in its place during the descent by the iron supporter B, suspended by wires from above. The form of this supporter is shown more distinctly below.

At the upper end of the bar, at C, are two arms turning loosely on pivots. These arms are each divided above into two short branches -the wires which come up from the supporter of the ball being hooked upon the lower pair, while the line, made double by a division at its lower end, is attached to the upper pair.

There is a hollow in the lower end of the round bar, which is nearly filled with some soft adhesive substance, by means of which specimens of the sand or mud, and sometimes minute shells, are brought up-sufficient to give the observer some idea of the character of the bottom.

This kind of sounding apparatus has, moreover, this great advantage over the old mode, namely, that if the bar comes up without the ball it is certain that the bottom was actually reached, a fact which it was very difficult to ascertain, in case of very deep water, by a sim

The apparatus being thus arranged, the ball is kept in its place upon the round bar so long as the weight hangs upon the line, for while it so hangs the branches are kept in a nearly up-ple lead and line.