258 Influence of the Female Character.

of females, at the present day, seems diametrically opposed to all that advances the happiness of domestic life. To attract admiration, and shine abroad, appears to be the principal object; as though they were destined for no higher purpose, like the ephemeral fly, they flutter awhile and are seen no more. What a lamentable circumstance, that the admirable picture drawn by Solomon should not have been more frequently imitated! All the refinements which wealth and luxury have introduced since the foundation of society, will never have power to do away the influence of those domestic virtues which the inspired penman has so beautifully delineated in the last chapter of Proverbs. One reason why the domestic virtues are so much neglected is the love of show and external parade.-When once a love of fashionable pleasure steals upon the affections it is in vain to look for the growth of those virtues which require a keeping at home. Fashion dethrones judgment, and lays her empire in the dust. When once the affections begin to entwine around the idol, the soul is fascinated with a kind of enchantment, which it seems impossible to resist, until it becomes à prey to the most violent passions; which, like a garden grown up with weeds, presents a most gloomy prospect for a future day. S. L.

INFLUENCE OF THE FEMALE CHARACTER.

Compare the condition and pursuits of the mass of men with those of women, and tell me on which side lies the inferiority. While the greater part of our sex are engaged in turning up the clods of the earth, fashioning the materials which are to supply the physical wants of our race, exchanging the products of industry of different countries, toiling amidst the perils of war or the tumults of politics, to you is committed the nobler task of moulding the infant mind; it is for you to give their character to succeeding ages; it is yours to control the stormy passions of man, to inspire him with those sentiments which subdue his ferocity, and make his heart gentle and soft; it is yours to open to him the

truest and purest sources of happiness, and prompt him to the love of virtue and religion. A wife, a mother! How sacred and venerable these names! What nobler objects can the most aspiring ambition propose to itself than to fulfil the duty which these relations imply! Instead of murmuring that your field of influence is so narrow, should you not rather tremble at the magnitude and sacredness of your responsibility? When you demand of man a higher education than has hitherto been given you, and claim to drink from the same wells of knowledge as himself, should it not be that you may be thus enabled, not to rush into that sphere which nature has marked for him, but to move more worthily and gracefully within your own!-Thatcher.

YOUNG GENTLEMEN'S DEPARTMENT.

THE VALUE OF CHARACTER.

It is ever to be kept in mind, that a good name, is in all cases the fruit of personal exertion. It is not inherited from parents, it is not created by external advantages, it is no necessary appendage of birth, or wealth, or talents, or station; but the result of one's own endeavors-the fruit and reward of good principles, manifested in a course of virtuous and honorable action. This is the more important to be remarked, because it shows the attainment of a good name, whatever be your external circumstances, is entirely within your power. No young man, however humble his birth, or obscure his condition is excluded from the invaluable boon. He has only to fix his eye upon the prize, and press towards it in a course of virtuous and useful conduct, and it is his. And it is interesting to notice how many of our worthiest and best citizens have risen to honor and usefulness by dint of their own persevering exertions. They are to be found in great numbers in each of the learned professions, and in every department of business; and they stand forth bright and animating example of what can be accomplished by resolution and effort. Indeed, my friends, in the formation

of character, personal exertion is the first, the second, and the third virtue. Nothing great or excellent can be acquired without it. A good name will not come without being sought. All the virtues of which it is composed are the result of untiring application and industry. Nothing can be more fatal to the attainment of a good character than a treacherous confidence in external advantages. These, if not seconded by your own endeavors, will "drop you mid way, or perhaps you will not have started when the diligent traveller will have won the race."

Thousands of young men have been ruined by relying for a good name on their honorable parentage, or inherited wealth or the patronage of friends.-Flattered by these distinctions they have felt as if they might live without plan and without effort, merely for their own gratification and indulgence. No mistake is more fatal. It always issues in producing an inefficient and useless character. On this account it is, that character and wealth rarely continue in the same family more than two or three generations.-The younger branches placing a deceptive confidence in an hereditary character, neglect the means of forming one of their own, and often exist in society only a reproach to the worthy ancestry whose name they bear.

NOTICE OF RECENT PUBLICATIONS.

Natural History of Insects. 12mo. pp. being No. X. of Harpers Family Library.

As often as, in the course of our reading, we chance to light upon volumes connected with the lower animal world, our astonishment is renewed, that the wonderful subjects of which they treat, receive so little attention from the mass of mankind. There have been, in all periods, a few persons, the chosen priests of nature, who have worshipped her with a holy enthusiasm, who have explored her mysteries through all her favorite haunts, and claimed, for her productions, the admiration to which they are so abundantly entitled. But from the days of Pliny, to the present hour, naturalists have made but a partial impression upon the minds of men, in seeking to attract them for a while from the busy paths of life, to the wilderness and the mountain, the forest and the river,-there to see not only innumerable proofs of the active superintendance and power of an Almighty Being, but also models of ingenuity, which, it' pro

perly attended to, might be turned to practical advantage in almost every branch of science and art.

Few of our readers, who have not made themselves conversant with the history of insects, will, perhaps, believe, that among them are to be found miners, masons, carpenters, and upholsterers, who were perfect in their different trades six thousand years ago! The common spider has made every body familiar with his proficiency in the art of weaving: a similar insect, who has taken up his abode in the water, might have suggested the idea of the diving bell many centuries before it was discovered: and if we had our senses about us, when wandering in the fields of a fine evening in summer, the honor of inventing the air balloon would not have belonged to the French; we might have derived the principle of it from the little spider, who lifts himself into the air upon his tiny web of gossamer, an elevation which he could not otherwise have any chance of attaining. The bees have, perhaps, been more frequently observed and watched in our gardens, than any other creature of the insect race. Yet how few have followed them into the hive, and there learned how much may be done in a given time by division of labor; how by ingenuity of contrivance, many mansions and storehouses may be erected with the greatest possible economy of space, and how, by mutual assistance and general subordination, thousands may live together in affluence and peace, Before Babylon was thought of, the social tribes of ants had constructed towers, and cities, and domes; had raised fortresses, and built covered ways, with all the art of an experienced engineer. The vulgar idea is that these insects feed upon corn. They do no such thing. They take it to their habitations, and break it up amongst the other materials of their edifices, but their food is of a much more select description. Some of the ant tribes feed chiefly upon liquor, which is yielded to them by the aphis, whole flocks of which insect, if we may use the expression, they appropriate to themselves, tend and support, as we do our flocks of sheep and our herds of cattle. But what, perhaps, is not the least surprising passage in the history of ants is this, that there are races of them which have their negro slaves: regular whites, who, reposing in indolence themselves, compel the less fortunate nation of blacks to do for them all the drudgery which they require. The wasp, who is pursued with unrelenting hostility by every body that see him,-the terror of all nurses,-is, nevertheless, a most industrious and most excellent amanufacturer of paper.

These are a few of the curiosities of history, belonging to insects, which would repay, in the way of amusement, the attention of the most careless reader. But the transformations which insects undergo, furnish materials for reflection of a still more important kind. A deformed, leaf-deveuring, loathsome looking thing crawls along our path in the spring, and if we do not extinguish the little spark of life that warms him, he sports about our garden before the summer is over, in the form of a beauteous butterfly, decorated with a pair of wings so tastefully painted, that no artist can rival the splenJor of their coloring. There is in the South of Europe an insect called the ant-lion, which, though apparently the most helpless of

all creatures, has a most formidable appearance. It contrives, by laying pit-falls, to live the life of a murderer for two years, during which period it resembles a wood-louse. This, however, is but its state of probation, as a larva. When the appointed time arrives, it repents of all its former habits, and retires into the earth, where it surrounds itself with a case, the inside of which it ornaments with a pearl-colored satin, of the most exquisite delicacy and beauty, the produce of its own silk and loom. In this elegant hermitage the penitent remains about two months, when not only his form, but his nature, is completely metamorphosed; he puts on four wings, and re-visits the world, a creature of purity, innocence, and gaiety, as a fly of a very brilliant description. Assuredly there are, in these changes, a pledge and a warning for man, of that great transformation that awaits him when his appointed moment arrives. If it be said that this death and burial and resurrection, under another form, of insects, be necessary to the propagation of their race, we must only therefore the more admire the goodness of Him who has ordained such a law, from which man cannot fail to derive the hope that he, also, after descending to the earth, may rise a newly-formed and purified creature, and destined for higher worlds than that from which, in his larva state, he now draws his support. We have only room here to say that this work is of the most interesting character, and ought to be universally read.

POETRY.

(For the Repository.)

"TIME'S BUT THE PASSAGE TO A BETTER WORLD."