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She perceives symmetry of person, however, and is disagreeably affected by any strongly marked departure from it. On asking her if a little hump-backed girl was handsome, she said, very emphatically, "No!" Why not? said I. "Because," said she, "she is crooked;" and she imitated the motion of the child walking, and asked why she could not grow like other children. She said, a lady of her acquaintance, who is very fat and ungainly, was very ugly. Why? said I; but she could only reply that she did not know, -- that she was too large about the waist, and that "her stomach came out too quick."

I asked her who was the handsomest lady of her acquaintance, and she replied, "***** *****;" but upon my pressing her for her reason, she could only say that her hands were smooth, soft, and pretty.

A cane with knots on it was less pleasing to her than a smooth one; and an irregularly knobbed stick, than one with the prominences at regular intervals. She has thus the rudiments of the aesthetic sense, but, like that of other children, its developement must depend upon education and habit. She is not yet old enough to give any satisfactory account of her own feelings on the subject.

The subject of her dreams is a most interesting one, but like many others must be passed over hastily.

One morning she asked her teacher what she dreamed about, and said, "I sometimes dream about God." Her teacher asked, what did you dream about last night; she said, "I dreamed that I was in the entry, -- the round entry, and Lurena was rolling about in her wheel-chair to exercise, and I went into a good place where God knew I could not fall off the edge of the floor." Soon after she said, "I dreamed that God took away my breath to Heaven," accompanying it with the sign of taking something away from her mouth.

On another occasion her teacher says, "In the hour for conversation she commenced the subject of dreaming again, and asked, "Why does God give us dreams? Last night I dreamed I talked with my month, did you hear me talk?" No, I was asleep. "I talked with my mouth" -- and then she made the noise which she generally does for talking. I asked her how she talked -- "I talked as any people in dreams." To the question, what words did you dream? I could get no answer. She asked "do Spanish people dream like us? do they dream words like us?"

Site sometimes is frightened in her dreams, and awakes in great terror, and says she dreamed there were animals in the room which would hurt her. She has still much fear of animals, and can hardly be induced to touch the quiet and harmless house dog.

Aug. 19th. The last hour she asked me if she ever told me about her friends at home, and commenced an account of times when she lived there. It consisted chiefly of a history of all the animals she saw, and of which she wished me to tell her the names. She gave me a description of an animal three feet high and covered with hair curled like a sheep. I told her it was a sheep -- but she said -- "No, it was much larger and could not be.'' Then she told me how frightened she was when she first saw her mother open a hair trunk because she thought it was an animal. I asked her what she used to think about when she lived at home. She said "I could not think or talk good then. I did not know any of my friends in Pearl (1) Boston then." Asked her if she thought how kind her mother was. She said "No, I did not think she was kind for she whipped me and shook me," &c. I explained to her why she did it, and how much trouble she had caused her mother

The most important part of moral education is that of practical kindness and usefulness to others -- discipline and training in acts of love, without which, precepts, preaching and books are little worth. Laura has even more need of such training than others have, for her peculiar situation is unfavorable to the growth of the moral nature.

The idea of self is developed in children as soon as they are born; any thing which affects their bodily organization, any thing which gratifies or disappoints a desire, gives them pleasure or pain without the slightest regard to its effect upon any other human being. Afterwards the circle of self is enlarged, and embraces the family, and those who by frequently contributing to the gratification of our desires seem to belong to ourselves, and whose pleasures and pains become our pleasures and pains. As the social nature is developed the circle is still more enlarged until it embraces neighbors and countrymen, in all of whose joys and sorrows, though they live upon its outskirts, the affectionate heart vividly sympathizes. But to attain this enlargement of the affections, moral education and training of the feelings are necessary; for the circle of the untrained heart must ever be very small, and it can be very sensitive only in the central point of self. And even of the well trained and the good, how few consider this circle as their moral kingdom, and strive to extend its limits till it embraces the globe and makes of their very antipodes, neighbors and brothers!