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To answer this question, it would have been necessary to open up the whole of that wonderful and benevolent scheme by which God, through the agency of death, bestows the blessings of existence upon myriads of generations, instead of upon a single one; and this scheme, like many others, can only be fully explained to her when her reasoning powers are fully developed.

There are a great many things with the existence of which most young persons become familiar, but of which Laura, as yet, knows nothing; such as wars, and fightings, crimes of various kinds, severe accidents, and awful deaths.

Not long ago, allusion was made incidentally in conversation with her, to murder and capital punishment, when she instantly asked, with much eagerness, and with an expression of horror, why a man would kill another? The explanation was painful, and probably satisfactory; but not more so than that which followed, of capital punishment. She was perplexed to know why men should kill the murderer; and her simple question amounted to asking why they try to remedy one evil deed by perpetrating a like deed; it was as forcible as if put by Beccaria himself; nor could I answer it, except by assuming the homeaepathic axiom, "that like cures like."

It may be remembered that in the Report of the year before last, mention was made of an instance where she was led by strong temptation to tell an untruth; and of the deep regret and repentance which she manifested when she found how much wrong she had done to herself, and how much grief she had caused her friends. It seems that the lesson has not been forgotten, for I find the following record in the teacher's journal: --

"At nine, talked with Laura an hour. She asked, 'Do you remember about the woollen gloves that I had two years ago? and that I hid them and told lie about them, because I did not like them?' She talked of nothing but this the whole hour; said she was sorry she did so, and that the reason was, because she preferred to wear kid gloves. She spoke of her work yesterday, and I told her she was very industrious to knit so much. She appeared very happy, and told me she would try to be very gentle all day, and not tire me, because I was very weak and sick."

We have not been so fortunate, however, as to avoid all explosions of passion, but I am constrained to say, I think that is less her fault than ours. The following record in her teacher's journal, I read with grief equalled only by surprise:

February 2d, 1844. At twelve, I was talking with her in the schoolroom, about the different kinds of coal, and the manner of making charcoal; -- we had just commenced the latter subject, when I noticed that she had left her handkerchief upon the desk. I have always objected to this, and told her to keep it in her desk. She has never refused to do it, though I have noticed frequently that she did it with great reluctance, but have never spoken to her on the subject afterwards. To-day, when I told her to put it in the desk, she hesitated as usual, and put it in her lap, saying, "I prefer to put in my lap," and then held up her hand for me to go on with the story. I said, "I told you to put it in the desk, and now I want you to do it." She sat still for about two minutes, and then lifted the lid very high, threw the handkerchief into the desk, and let it fall with such a noise as to startle all in the school-room. Her face was growing pale, and she was evidently getting into a passion. This was the moment to cease urging her, and to leave her to herself for awhile. Whenever I have seen any thing of this kind, the question, Are you angry? has always recalled her to her senses; but now she answered, "I am cross." I said to her, "I am very sorry, -- and I am sorry you shut the desk lid so hard; I want you to open it again, and take your handkerchief to put it in gently. Putting on a very firm look, she said, "I will take it out to wipe my eyes," -- meaning, but not to mind you. I told her, I wanted her first to put it in gently. After a moment's hesitation, she took it out and let the cover slam as before, and then raised it to wipe her eyes. -Here she should have been taken to her room, and left to her own reflections.- I said No, decidedly, and took her hand down gently. She sat still awhile, and then uttered the most frightful yell that I ever heard. Her face was perfectly pale, and she trembled from head to foot. I said, "You must go and sit alone." One second she clung to my dress, -here was another critical moment, which should have been improved,- and then went quietly out of the room.

At dinner time, I led her to the table, without speaking, and after that gave her a chair to sit by herself, without work. Instead of looking troubled, as she generally does after having done any thing wrong, she assumed an expression of indifference, and talked to herself a little, and then feigned sleep. When she had taken tea, I asked her if she thought she could do as I told her to do this morning, if I let her go to the school-room. She said she would. I led her in, and she did it very quietly. After this, I talked an hour with her, trying to get her to feeling as she ought. She acknowledged the wrong at once, and said she was sorry, but her countenance indicated any thing but sorrow. I left her during the hour for reading, and when I returned, she looked much more troubled, and I told her she might go to bed, hoping that her own thoughts might bring her to a right state of feeling.