There is no end of the whims, vagaries, and fancies in dress which men and women have run into. Whole volumes might be wrote on the subject. However, these rude notes may serve as a sketch of the former times.

Old fables tell us of one Epiminides, who after a sleep of fifty years awaked with amazement, finding a new world every where, both of men and fashion. Let this sleep go (as it well may) for a fabulous invention, the effects of it, his amazement, I am sure might have been credible enough, though the sleep had been shorter by many years. In some countries, if men should but put on those clothes which they left off but four or five years before, and use those fashions which were then in use, they would seem even to themselves ridiculous, and unto many little less than monstrous.

For the Literary Magazine.

SIR,

ON EDUCATION.

LETTER II.

To the Editor, &c.

WHEN the infant comes into the world, its mind is devoid of ideas, excepting those very few it has received in the womb, but in the course even of a few days it acquires several. Children are capable of combining and comparing ideas, and forming judgments, much sooner than is generally imagined; and as their minds possess but a small number of ideas, and almost every object is new to them, every thing strikes them with much greater force than it does a person of riper years, and fixes itself much stronger in their memories. A man whose faculties are impaired by age for gets the occurrences of the middle years of life, but hardly ever those of childhood; he often remembers them much more perfectly than the transactions of yesterday. As, then, children are so susceptible of impressions, and as these early im

pressions are so difficult to be eradicated, and frequently form leading features of their characters ever afterwards, we cannot be too careful what ideas we inculcate into their minds. The nursery-maid does as much towards forming the character of a child as the schoolmaster.

Nurses and mothers hardly ever talk sense to them. They sing them to sleep with stories that would astonish even the inhabitants of Bedlam, and, in the day, tell them tales of giants and fairies, whose tremendous actions alarm their fears, and are frequently used as threats to terrify them when disobedient; and, when taught their letters, almost the only books given them to read are histories of Cock Robin, Jack the Giant-Killer, and a parcel of rubbish; every line of which serves only to render their little understanding less. Hence the generality of children have good memories, a credulity that will swallow every thing, abundance of superstition, and reason inferior to that of the brute creation.

But how can this be remedied? By not intrusting them to the care of persons from whom they can only learn what they must afterwards unlearn. Let parents superintend their education during infancy themselves. To a feeling heart no gratification can be so exquisite. It is the first of all duties. It is far better to give them a good education with & little money, than a bad one with ever so large an estate. When the child begins to read, some books should be given it, containing, in short sentences, its duties towards God, its neighbour, and itself; little histories, relating nothing extraordinary or miraculous: the histories of children engage their attention above all others, because they are exactly suited to their capacities, and they can easily comprehend them*; and whatever they read

* I have seen some excellent little

books of this description, printed by Jacob Johnson, of this city, a gentleman who emulates the "philanthropic

should be fully explained to them; and as soon as they are able they should be made, in an hour or two afterwards, to repeat the substance of their lesson, with its explanation. Children generally have a deal of curiosity; every thing is new to them, and therefore excites their attention. This curiosity should be encouraged and increased by every possible means. If they do not ask for an explanation of every thing, we should give it them; and, by constantly keeping their minds occupied on things of importance, their understandings will enlarge, and soon outgrow trifles. To refuse to gratify their curiosity is to forbid them to learn, and damps their thirst after knowledge. But there is a still more abominable practice some parents are guilty of than merely letting their children remain in ignorance, which is, the instructing them in error, in answering their questions falsely. They think that, as the child will not know whether they tell it truth or falsehood, it is immaterial which they tell it. The asking for an explanation proves that its attention is strongly engaged; the answer therefore will be deeply engraven on its memory. This practice will inevitably make it believe wrong. The explanation will in all probability contradict its reason, or some previous instruction it has received; its little mind will be filled with doubts which it cannot solve; by receiving contradictory solutions it will discover that the truth is not always told it, and imbibe a sceptical disposition, and be forward to disbelieve instructions that are really valuable.

And this leads me to the third point, That our instructions should be always uniform. In addition to the inconveniences just stated, contradictory instructions will lead the child to lying. When chastised for a fault, it will justify itself by some precept it has received; when

chastised for another fault, it will justify itself by some other precept, directly opposite to the former. If it cannot remember a precept that will bear it out, it will soon seek, by some trifling alteration, to convert one into an excuse; and by a natural gradation, in a little time, excuse itself by an entire falsehood. In this part of education example is at least as important as verbal instructions, and is what very few parents attend to. They correct the child for ill-humour, and perhaps directly afterwards put themselves into a passion. Here are contradictory instructions, and the example coming last eradicates all that the precept and correction have taught. Those who are intrusted with the care of children cannot be too attentive to their own behaviour and conversation, for they frequently learn as much from the conversation their parents hold with third persons, as from the instructions which given immediately to themselves.

are

Many parents, from a mistaken tenderness, indulge their children in every thing that they desire; and, from a fear of rendering them unhappy, never contradict them. Of all children, none is so unhappy as one that is spoilt. It wants things which it is impossible for it to ob tain; and is as miserable, because it cannot procure them, as if it was deprived of some absolute necessary of life. It renders itself disagreeable to every body but its misguided parents. When sent to school, it is obnoxious to its schoolfellows, who will not submit to its caprices, and the harshness of the treatment it receives both from them and from the master or mistress is generally in proportion to the inordinate indulgence it has received at home.

But of all bad practices, none is equal to that of partiality. Even if parents feel a greater degree of affection for one child than another, they ought not to show it. The favourite is always spoilt and seeds of dissension are sown between the children, which sometimes can never be eradicated.

Though I am a strong advocate for gentleness, I can by no means agree with M. Rousseau, "That children should never be corrected, even when they do amiss." As little can I subscribe to Dr. Johnson's opinion, "That they should not be rewarded when they do well." They will not be at the trouble of learning without some inducement; there are but two inducements in nature, the hope of pleasure and the fear of pain. There must be a particular motive for every action; if therefore we dispense rewards alone, we must gratify them with something for every lesson they learn; and besides, by never being contradicted, they will grow self-willed and overbearing. On the other hand, if they are governed entirely by fear, they will acquire a servile disposition, the energy of their minds will be damped; and, though they may be beat into great scholars, they will never become great philosophers or legislators.

To become truly great, a strong spirit of emulation is necessary; but as this is the most important and the most difficult part of education, I shall reserve my sentiments upon it for another letter.

W. W.

For the Literary Magazine.

DESCRIPTION OF RHODE ISLAND BRIDGE.

THIS bridge connects the northeast end of the island with the main land, in Tiverton, at a place called Howland's ferry, about 11 miles from Newport. It is 1524 feet in length, from the west end on the island, to the east end on the main; and 864 feet between the former abutments of the old (wooden) bridge, where the average depth of water is 39 to 40 feet, and the greatest depth 59 to 60 feet at highwater. This bridge is building on the following plan: a sufficient quantity of stone to be thrown pro

VOL. VIII. NO. XLVIII.

miscuously into the river, in a line across, to form a base, with such declivity on each side as the stones shall rest at, and of such width, as will make a ridge levelled to 35 feet wide at low-water mark. On this base, a causeway to be raised 5 feet above high-water mark, and to be 31 feet wide on the top for the passage way; the walls of which to be built with large flat stones, the space between to be filled with stone, and the top levelled with gravel. On each side to be erected a substantial fence or wall, for the safety of passengers. The whole to be filled up and built in this manner, except a passage of 66 feet near the centre of the river, over which a drawbridge is to be thrown.

This great and novel work was undertaken the last summer, and the following is the present state of it :From the east end of the bridge to the draw, a distance of 757 feet is nearly completed; a drawbridge, on a very simple and good model, is thrown over the passage left in the river, to open 30 feet for vessels to pass, which is worked with great ease and dispatch by one from the draw westward, 184 feet is filled up to low-water mark; on the west end, 140 feet is nearly complete; and 228 feet further eastward is filled up to low-water mark; the remaining space, about 150 feet, is filled up, on an average, within 5 feet of low-water.

man;

poration, for 800 shares of 100 dollars each, which has been subscribed, and it is expected will complete this work.

This undertaking, though not so expensive as many, may be considered as the most enterprizing, considering the rapidity of the current and the very great depth of water; and that it was impossible to make a bridge that would stand, unless by filling up a passage across the river, in the manner which has been done. The quantity of stone already used, and which will be required, is immense. The success of the undertaking, and durability of the bridge, cannot be questioned, by any who examine it.

There are few works of greater public utility: it establishes a permanent communication with the main land; is the most direct, and shortest way to Boston, and the only way to New Bedford. To travel from hence to Boston, via Providence, requires two days; but a line of stages will run, on this new route, across the bridge, to and from Boston, with great ease, in one day. It will form an essential security to this island, in case of war with any European power, as it will keep open a communication from the main, which cannot be destroyed: and, by stopping up the passage, prevent ships of war from sailing round the island.

The country, where this causeway bridge is erected, has a delightful climate, affords a diversified and interesting perspective. In the season, there are plenty of curlews, plovers, and other game. The river abounds with almost every kind of fish that is brought to market; particularly the sheep'shead, striped bass, blue fish, and totague, of the largest size: and for sea bathing, no place on the continent can be preferred to it. It is expected, in a few years, that it will become a fashionable place of great resort, where invalids, bon vivants, and parties of pleasure, may benefit their healths, or agreeably pass the summer months. Newport, Aug. 16.

For the Literary Magazine.

ACCOUNT OF THE PROFIT AND

LOSS UPON A FLOCK OF SHEEP
WINTERED AT CLERMONT, IN
THE STATE OF NEW YORK, IN
1806--7.

Published, by order of the Agricul tural Society of Dutchess county, N. Y., by the proprietor, Robert R. Livingston.

THE flock consisted of six full bred Merino sheep, twenty-four three-fourths bred, thirty half bred, and seventeen common sheep of good quality. They were kept in one flock, and treated alike in every respect. The full bred were two rams and four ewes, one of the ewes died in February a lambing. She was eight years old. Two ewes lambed in March, the other was a yearling and had not taken a ram. On May 28 the five sheep were shorn, and gave 284lbs. of wool. They had not been washed, but as they were well littered in the fold, and kept out except at night, the wool was not so foul as common. 28 lbs. of wool sold to

Mr. Booth at 10s. £14 7 6 1 ram lamb sold at $100 40 0 0 1 ewe do. not sold, as I

have not yet my com-
plement

Wool from the ewe that
died 4 lbs. at 10s.

Deduct for the old ewe that died, which cost at 2 years old $80 £15 0 0 Keeping 6

sheep at 12s. 3 12

40 0 0

2 5

96 12 6

18 12 0

£78 0 6 Account of 24 three-quarter bred sheep. 24 sheep, among which there was but one yearling wether, Gave 106lbs. of wool, sold at 58.

£26 10 0 14 8 0 Clear profit on the wool £12 20

Keeping at 12s. deduct