The Peach Bud.

On a cold morning, early in spring, I observed the old gardener busy among the bare boughs of his fruit trees. He plucked a small-twig, opened the hard scaly bud with his pen-knife, and seemed quite engrossed with what appeared to me a very insignificant object. As I knew the gentleman to be no trifler, I began to feel curious to know what he was about, so, as the quickest way to come at the matter, I ventured the question direct: "Pardon me, Uncle Jerry, but what in the world are you searching for in that scurvy, ill-looking little bud?" The old man smiled and replied: "a future harvest. There will be plenty of peaches next September, if the frosts hold off.” "I should like to see the proof of so confident a prophecy," said I. He opened another bud and showed me what he called the flower-bud, the germ of the future fruit being distinctly visible, though so minute as only to be seen on close inspection. "Sure enough," I said to myself; "here are all the rudiments of the future peach wrapped up and concealed in that diminutive bud. The incident was suggestive, and led to some reflections. Such, thought I, is the mind of the child. It contains within itself all the germs of its future life, wrapped, concealed and shielded in the hard case of infancy. What is the proper business of education? What but the most perfect development of the mind ?

God made this mysterious mind for growth, and it will as certainly develop its powers, each in season, as the bud unfolds to leaf, the leaf to flower and the flower to fruit, provided all hurtful influences be removed and the nourishment its nature requires be furnished.

The great questions for our educators seem to be: how shall we remove impediments? How much and when can we aid? and when shall we let alone? Ah! this letting alone, has, we fear, been too often forgotten by our most zealous teachers. We have been too much like the impatient boy, who would dig up his beans every morning to see how much they had grown during the night; often in his zeal to be always educating, setting them down reversed, under the impression they had by mistake come up wrong side up.

It is not amiss for teachers to reflect often on the limits of their power; no teacher living can make a mind grow. The most we can do is, to remove impediments, give freedom, and supply the proper food and stimulants. It must be by the voluntary action of the mind itself that the nourishment, thus provided, is taken in and so assimilated as to promote a true growth.

There is a power of will, a pertinacity of taste and preference, which may, and often does baffle the efforts of all helpers, and strikes out a way of its own to acquire knowledge. The mind craves knowledge as the plant does light and moisture. It is the work of a judicious teacher to select its appropriate aliment and place it within reach; but neither teachers nor gardeners are half so efficient in producing positive results as they often imagine.

How often the good effect which we gravely attribute to a well-ordered school room, has been the result of a mother's sweet "good morning," and her parting kiss, or to the fond commendation of a father, nightly bestowed. These have been the long levers which have lifted burdens for us in the distant school room and made labor a delight. Often, affection for a school-mate becomes the motive power, and the wish to out-strip a rival, has quickened the pace of many a sluggish mind, to its full speed. God made the human mind to be moved by motives, and it will not move without. Neither steam power nor brute force can make a peach tree blossom. It has laws of its own and will obey no other.

How important that teachers should acquire an accurate and thorough knowledge of the material on which they work. No knowledge can be more essential to them than that of mind and the laws which regulate its action; nor is the science so difficult as may appear at first sight. Mind is uniform in its main characteristics. It is difficult to conceive of a human mind lacking any of the great faculties of memory, reason, will, sensibility or conscience; or if so conceived, it is felt at once to be a deformed and mutilated specimen, and not a fair sample of the mind universal. If mind be thus uniform, he who has gained a knowledge of one mind, has a clue to the knowledge of all mind, allowing the usual latitude for varieties.

To gain this knowledge may require some patience and close observation-especially as we cannot depend implicitly on observations upon the workings of our own minds. We seem placed too near the object to get a fair point of view, and besides, the external disturbing force of self-love disarranges every calculation, as a large magnet will turn the best compass from its direction. For this reason, we are under the necessity of comparing notes taken from a variety of specimens; and the minds of young children, from their greater transparency and truthfulness, afford the best possible text book for this study. Surely, no thoughtful teacher can have been long in his business, without adding somewhat to his theoretical knowledge of mental science.

But this theory, like all other true theories is no farther of use to us, than as it guides to the best methods, by which mind may influence other minds. Would we strengthen the memory? Let us treat it as the philosopher does his magnet: when he wishes to increase its power, give it, little by little, more to lift. Interesting facts should be presented, not jumbled together, nor strung separately like strings of beads, but united firmly like a golden chain linked by some natural and real tie of association.

Would we influence the will? Select, from among the many worthy and noble motives possible the highest one which the child, with its present knowledge, and present conscience, can appreciate and be influenced by, and raise the standard slowly and surely at the earliest moment it can safely be done.

Would we cultivate the affections? Love the child sincerely, and show it in all your words and actions; for these little ones are very shrewd and exact in this matter, and somewhat like the Jewish sinners withal, who love those who love them."

Is the imagination to be roused? A strong excitement now and then is not amiss; a graphic sketch should cover the bare bones of Statistics; a highly colored story be the reward for a well recited lesson.

If understanding seems to loiter and unfold slowly, wait for her, clearing away carefully all rubbish and impediments. She is a late plant, when strongest, as oaks are of slow growth, while the mushroom springs up in a night. Minds, like trees, must have time to nothing is gained by hurrying the order of nature.

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Especially, let us not neglect the cultivation of the conscience-the highest and royal faculty of the soul. Never is education really progressing aright till conscience is seated on the throne, and the eternal principles of Right, Duty and Worship are interwoven into the very fibres of the soul. Then, with or without a human teacher, the soul is in the way of true Wisdom. Any view of education, which leaves this grand aim out of sight, is defective indeed. Nature is but one great open text-book, from which to learn of God, and we cannot begin too young to engraft in the mind a holy reverence for the Creator.

I was roused from my reflections, by passing a beautiful fruit-garden, whose gate stood open, showing long vistas of trees in blossom, whose fragrance loaded the air. A garden plat, thought I, for fruit, and a happy home for the child cannot be dispensed with. Let it be hedged in with parental authority, sisterly affection and brotherly watchfulness. Be it a green, a flowery hedge, but strong withal, and not to be broken

through. Let in sunshine and cheerfulness; keep out frost and unkindness. Give showers of genuine sorrow, when needed to prevent the soil from hardening; for tears, like rain, have their uses, and life would be imperfect without them. Let the sunshine of joy soon follow, for what is sweeter than the joy of a child. Then, with a wise and prudent hand, both dig and prune, giving the very stimulant the plant requires. Keep down weeds with a careful diligence, but be cautious not to bruise roots, and do not dig up a principle for the sake of destroying a fault. Finally, though you prune ever so wisely, do not prune always, but give long intervals of silence and repose; for plants must have time to grow, and a judicious gardener will feel it to be just as important to let alone his plants when they are doing well, as to dig and prune when occasion requires. And do not be discouraged because you fail to accomplish impossibilities; for, after all possible culture, it will be found that a crab-apple tree will bear nothing but crab-apples, as truly as the grafted and well educated peach, yields us the delicious rare-ripe. CLEVELAND, June 1st, 1854.

H. VAIL.

The Pet Scholar and the Cosset Lamb.

We are first to speak of the resemblance between the two. The cosset lamb is never content to go with the flock, but ever seeks the presence of the hand that has nursed it. The pet scholar is not content to go with the other scholars, but ever seeks to ingratiate himself into the favor and secure the partiality of his teacher. The cosset lamb is found in the morning and evening at the gate-way, ever ready to intrude at each opening, and annoy each in-comer and out-goer frequenting the premises. The pet scholar is ever found at the teacher's desk, to the great annoyance of those who would fain seek his counsel in their studies. The cosset lamb, from a kind of animal instinct, seeks out and follows, during the live long day, the kine whose milk has nourished it, and is ever found near the tinkling of the cow-bell. The pet scholar, accustomed to receive a large share of the "milk of human kindness" from his teacher, lingers around the fount that has flowed so profusely for him, and is ever found contiguous to the tinkling of the school bell. The cosset lamb ever finds ready access to the best pastures of the farm; the pet scholar to the best seat in the school room. The cosset lamb is often dallied with by those whose time should be

employed in the common affairs of the household; the pet scholar is often fondled and carressed by him or her whose time belongs to the regular business of the school room. Both accustomed to receive an unusual share of attention, are out of their element whenever it is not bestowed upon them.

Without stopping for the present to trace this resemblance further, let us look for a moment to the non-resemblance between the two. The cosset lamb is generally one that has lost his natural protector, and is found parentless, friendless and helpless. The pet scholar usually belongs to a favorite family, not unfrequently an influential family, and is not parentless, friendless or helpless. The cosset lamb is most usually one that has been found, perhaps about the "ides of March," in a cold and icy world, struggling amid the snow, and rain, and hail, without love or sustenance to sustain it. The pet scholar is generally one that fares "sumptuously every day," amid the indulgence of affluence or fortune. When the cosset lamb is caressed, and especial favors are meted out to him, no other eyes may see it, no other hearts may be grieved by it, and not a murmuring bleat of disapprobation be heard from the valleys, or echo from the hills where the less favored of the flock are grazing. When the pet scholar is carressed and especial favors bestowed on him, there are other eyes that see the wrong, other hearts that feel the wrong, and other tongues that speak of the wrong, until it finds an echo beyond the walls of the school room, in every home of the district. The cosset lamb is useful both in its life and after its death; while living it affords us its yearly fleece, to keep us warm by night and by day; and when dead, mutton chops for our dinners and taper lights for our evening meditations. The pet scholar, accustomed to expect every thing from the world, seldom bestows any thing upon the world, leaves but a scanty fleece of mental clothing, few "chops" of mind, mere rush lights of science, and a name that oblivion hastens to cover.

Leaving now the parallel altogether, and asking pardon for having introduced so homely an illustration, it may be remarked in the first place, that partiality and favoritism, shown to a few in a school, seldom fail to injure the teacher. They may, and frequently do give him a transient popularity. In the beginning, the praises of a few individuals whose children have found him very, very kind to them, may introduce him to general favor. But the general favor thus obtained, will prove evanescent as the morning dew, and there will be but a short day, between the morning and the evening sun of his popularity. The tide of his popularity may be quick and rapid, but let him remember it