in the bar-room of a tavern, would be more likely to promote the comfort and respectability of his family. Why should the labourer be debarred from sharing with the rich the great world of the past, and be able to rank amongst his best friends the distinguished men of all creeds and countries, and to feel for these dead worthies (who, thanks to the immortal art of printing, still live in their works) the warmest gratitude and admiration? The very mention of some names awaken in the mind the most lively emotion. We recall their beautiful thoughts to memory, and repeat them with as much earnestness as though the dead spake again through our lips.
Of all the heaven-inspired inventions of man, there are none to which we are so greatly indebted as to the art of printing. To it we shall yet owe the emancipation of the largerportion of mankind from a state of mental and physical slavery. What floods of light have dawned upon the world since that silent orator, the press, set at liberty the imprisoned thoughts of men, and poured the wealth of mind among the famishing sons of earth! Formerly few could read, because manuscript books, the labours of the pen, were sold at such an enormous price that only men of rank or great wealth could afford to purchase them. The peasant, and the landholder who employed him, were alike ignorant; they could not obtain books, and therefore learning to read might well be considered in those dark ages a waste of time. This profound ignorance gave rise to all those superstitions which in the present enlightened age are regarded with such astonishment by thinking minds.
“How could sensible, good men, condemn poor old women to death for being witches?” was a question once asked me by my nephew, a fine, intelligent boy, of eight years of age.
Now this boy had read a good deal, young as he was, and thought more, and was wiser in his day and generation than these same pious bigots. And why? The boy had read the works of more enlightened men, and, making a right use of his reason, he felt convinced that these men were in error (although he had been born and brought up in the backwoods of Canada) – a fact which the great Mathew Hale was taught by bitter experience.
I have said more on this subject than I at first intended, but I feel deeply impressed with the importance of it; and, though I confess myself wholly inadequate to do it the justice it deserves, I hope the observations I have made will attract the attention of my Canadian readers, and lead them to study it more profoundly for themselves. Thanks be to God! Canada is a free country; a land of plenty; a land exempt from pauperism, burdensome taxation, and all the ills which crush and finally sink in ruin older communities. While the vigour of young lifeis yet hers, and she has before her the experience of all other nations, it becomes an act of duty and real
patriotism
to give to her children the best education that lies in her power.
THE POET .
“Who can read the Poet’s dream,
Shadow forth his glorious theme,
And in written language tell
The workings of the potent spell,
Whose mysterious tones impart
Life and vigour to his heart?
‘Tis an emanation bright,
Shooting from the fount of light;
Flowing in upon the mind,
Like sudden dayspring on the blind;
Gilding with immortal dyes
Scenes unknown to common eyes;
Revealing to the mental sight
Visions of untold delight.
‘Tis the key by Fancy brought,
That opens up the world of thought;
A sense of power, a pleasing madness,
A hope in grief, a joy in sadness,
A taste for beauty unalloyed,
A love of nature never cloyed;
The upward soaring of a soul
Unfetter’d by the world’s control.
Onward, heavenward ever tending.
Its essence with the Eternal blending;
Till, from “mortal coil” shook free,
It shares the seraph’s ecstacy.”
AMUSEMENTS
“Life hath its pleasures, stern Death hath its fears,
Joy hath gay laughter, and Grief bitter tears;
Rejoice with the one, nor shrink from the other,
Of all the heaven-inspired inventions of man, there are none to which we are so greatly indebted as to the art of printing. To it we shall yet owe the emancipation of the largerportion of mankind from a state of mental and physical slavery. What floods of light have dawned upon the world since that silent orator, the press, set at liberty the imprisoned thoughts of men, and poured the wealth of mind among the famishing sons of earth! Formerly few could read, because manuscript books, the labours of the pen, were sold at such an enormous price that only men of rank or great wealth could afford to purchase them. The peasant, and the landholder who employed him, were alike ignorant; they could not obtain books, and therefore learning to read might well be considered in those dark ages a waste of time. This profound ignorance gave rise to all those superstitions which in the present enlightened age are regarded with such astonishment by thinking minds.
“How could sensible, good men, condemn poor old women to death for being witches?” was a question once asked me by my nephew, a fine, intelligent boy, of eight years of age.
Now this boy had read a good deal, young as he was, and thought more, and was wiser in his day and generation than these same pious bigots. And why? The boy had read the works of more enlightened men, and, making a right use of his reason, he felt convinced that these men were in error (although he had been born and brought up in the backwoods of Canada) – a fact which the great Mathew Hale was taught by bitter experience.
I have said more on this subject than I at first intended, but I feel deeply impressed with the importance of it; and, though I confess myself wholly inadequate to do it the justice it deserves, I hope the observations I have made will attract the attention of my Canadian readers, and lead them to study it more profoundly for themselves. Thanks be to God! Canada is a free country; a land of plenty; a land exempt from pauperism, burdensome taxation, and all the ills which crush and finally sink in ruin older communities. While the vigour of young lifeis yet hers, and she has before her the experience of all other nations, it becomes an act of duty and real
patriotism
to give to her children the best education that lies in her power.
THE POET .
“Who can read the Poet’s dream,
Shadow forth his glorious theme,
And in written language tell
The workings of the potent spell,
Whose mysterious tones impart
Life and vigour to his heart?
‘Tis an emanation bright,
Shooting from the fount of light;
Flowing in upon the mind,
Like sudden dayspring on the blind;
Gilding with immortal dyes
Scenes unknown to common eyes;
Revealing to the mental sight
Visions of untold delight.
‘Tis the key by Fancy brought,
That opens up the world of thought;
A sense of power, a pleasing madness,
A hope in grief, a joy in sadness,
A taste for beauty unalloyed,
A love of nature never cloyed;
The upward soaring of a soul
Unfetter’d by the world’s control.
Onward, heavenward ever tending.
Its essence with the Eternal blending;
Till, from “mortal coil” shook free,
It shares the seraph’s ecstacy.”
AMUSEMENTS
“Life hath its pleasures, stern Death hath its fears,
Joy hath gay laughter, and Grief bitter tears;
Rejoice with the one, nor shrink from the other,
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