Imatges de pàgina
PDF
EPUB

on a Sunday morning, or during a holiday, in their dirt and dishabille, deciding their contests and challenges by pugilistic combats. It was no uncommon thing, at that time, on taking a Sunday morning's walk, to see about twenty of such fights. Dog-fights and cock-fights were equally common at that time; and what were called 'free and easies,' and 'cock and hen clubs,' were very common among the working classes. These ' 'cock and hen clubs' were meetings of males and females together at a public house, where they heard songs sung; indeed, they were in some instances attended with every species of debauchery. Now they have singing, and something that may be called free and easies' at public houses; but, they are comparatively few, and these confined to the lowest classes. And in the workshop too, a great improvement has taken place among the working classes; their footings, fines, and drinking bouts are now almost done away with. The working classes have, within the period that I refer to, become to a great extent, a more reading and thinking class than they formerly were."

[ocr errors]

libraries, the proportion is diminishing and the proportion of historical and philosophical works taken out is increasing. The novels, in some libraries, are in the minority. All Bohn's series of historical works are very much read. Froissart's Chronicles is a work | in great demand, and very popular; and latterly the republication of the old Saxon Chronicles. The increase of reading is very marked indeed; there is a decrease, I think, says he, of that turbulent spirit, which I consider to be owing to ignorance; I have always found, that when the people read most they are the least open to be played upon by mere appeals to feelings. There is, it is true, a great deal of trash published in the shape of cheap tales of horror, which is read mostly by the younger and lower class of readers; but after they have learned to read and write well, they rise by degrees in the character of the books they read, and the trash sinks down to the lowest readers generally. Some of the most intelligent and bestread men in Birmingham are working men: I could produce five or six working men whom I should be happy to have examined against almost any of the middle classes in the place. They are men who have wrestled it out on Another indication of progress is the formation of scientific subjects, history, politics, and literature gene- ragged school libraries in the metropolis. One of these rally. Shakspere is known by heart almost. I could has been established in Marylebone, where there is a produce men who could be cross-examined upon any play. reading-room for the accomodation of those who choose In Manchester there is a large class of operative natu- to attend. Mr. J. Imray, the superintendent, says, that ralists, and a curious set of botanists. Of late years, in those who have attended, have read the books with the some places, popular lectures have been given on botany, greatest quietness and attention. Sometimes as many as and excursions made sometimes by working men: they go 100 persons attend, principally men between the ages out, six or seven together, with a teacher and take a day's of sixteen and thirty-five. The chief want is books, the ramble in the summer for botanical or entomological pur- | number of volumes being very limited. Possibly they poses. In the Staffordshire coal district they are setting enter the rooms at first, because of having a comfortable up libraries and institutions in every village alinost; but place to sit down in; but so soon as they have began to up to very lately they have been rather a neglected popu-read, they get interested in the books, and return for the lation. Three prizes were lately gained by three working purpose of renewing their acquaintance with them." men at Birmingham, whom I know well. The essays were Works on emigration are very much in demand in these really well written; their fault is the fault which gene-rooms. Most of the men who go there have no homes of rally those people have at first, that is, more words than thoughts; they want shaking a little, to let the words drop out." One consequence of this improved literary taste of the people is, that "the character of their amusements has changed. Bull-baiting and dogfighting in Birmingham and the neighbourhood were the public favourite sports; now the bull-baiting has gone altogether, and although the dog-fighting does exist, it is only among the most ignorant of the people. The improved taste of the people themselves has had as much to do with the discountenance of those sports as any interference by the authorities: they have died out of themselves: they have not been put down: there has been a change in the source and current of the thoughts of the people."

Mr. W. Lovett gives equally gratifying evidence of the same kind of improvement among the people of the metropolis. He says, "I have witnessed a very decided improvement intellectually and socially, especially among the working classes of London, during the last twenty-eight years. In the first place, they are not so drunken and dissipated in their habits as they formerly were, which beneficial change I attribute principally to the great increase of coffee-houses and reading-rooms. Then, the increase of cheap books and periodical publications has been of great service. You may now go into the coffee rooms of London, and see great numbers of the working classes reading. I am told that somewhere about 500 of them have libraries connected with them: some of their libraries have as many as 2,000 volumes. The proprietors of some of these coffee-shops expend hundreds of pounds a year in the purchase of periodicals, newspapers and books. I may mention further, as regards the improvement of the working classes, that they are not so eager after brutal sports and pastimes as they were when I came to London. At that period, you might see the working classes of London flocking out into the fields

their own to go to-they are a rough, wild set, but the process of reading seems gradually to civilize them. Mr. Imray states that he has known men of from twenty to thirty, who, when they first came, smoked their pipes in the school-room, overturned the forms, and did all kinds of mischief; but, they soon became perfectly quiet and orderly, and dressed better: "instead of rags, they come with whole clothes, (though still of the poorest kind.) and they sit down in the library with the greatest quietness and decorum, and read the books. Many men, having wives and families, begin by frequenting the schools to learn to read: they see that their friends who come to the library evince the possession of information, which they themselves do not possess, and they naturally feel anxious to read: they come to the school, aud learn to read, and then they frequent the library." Another gratifying fact is mentioned by Mr. Imray, that when the people have once acquired a taste for reading good books, they do not again return to the perusal of publications of the lower class.

Popular libraries have also been making satisfactory progress in Scotland, where there is a population taught in childhood to read, to begin with; the great obstacle to reading in England being the fact of the uneducated state of the population. For instance, in the district of Wigan, in Lancashire, out of every hundred men married in the year 1846, fifty-six signed their names with a mark; and out of every hundred women, not fewer than eighty-three signed in the same way. In Scotland, however, the poorest classes have the benefit of a national system of school education; which, although imperfect, has at all events greatly facilitated the intellectual culture of the people, and created a strong public opinion in that country in favour of all methods of freely imparting knowledge. What are called Itinerating Libraries have long been established in Scotland; in some countries there are free libraries established in

applied the proverb, she accepted the fit of laughter, which made his red face grow purple, as a tribute to her wit, and quite giddy with joy, jumped in and out between the legs of the old horses that were turning the machine, with a degree of excitement which quite alarmed her inother, and made the turkey-cock chuckle more slily than ever. At last, full to the brim, and fairly worn out with her exertions, she nestled herself to sleep beside her mother's wing, rather lulled than aroused by some monotonous remarks, which the more sedate and experienced members of the flock were making on the changes of fortune, and the uncertainty of worldly affairs.

every town and village, and a free library attached to nearly every school. In many of the larger towns public libraries have been formed, which are easily accessible to all ranks of the people, the humblest apprentice being enabled to participate in their benefits. The public library of Peebles is an instance of such an institution: it contains 730 volumes, and is largely frequented by young men. Mr. Bathgate, its secretary, says, "It is impossible to estimate the benefit which will ultimately accrue to the population from the library. There are several young men, of humble parents, who are educating themselves as students of divinity, and as teachers, to whom such a repository of historical works and general literature must be of great service in prosecuting their studies privately. The establishment of a public library in a country district affords the means of self-instruction to such as are desirous to rise from the condition in which they may be originally placed. It affords the means also of encouraging a taste for reading, and thereby weaning the young men from many of the destructive pursuits in which, if left unoccupied in their leisure moments, they are too apt to be engaged. Their morals are improved, and they again re-act on their families and the society of the place generally, with a salutary effect. The young men who have acquired the habit of reading, feel the desire strengthened by exercise, and are never found My dear Sir," she would exclaim to her new friend, within the tavern, or engaged in any of its debasing" do not be led away by those romantic descriptions; concomitants which lead to illegitimacy, and often to there is no comparison between the two places: the crime." variety, the life, the plenty, of this fine farm yard, where every one may help himself and please himself without check or control; and that tiresome place we came from, where from one end of the year to the other the flail never stopped; different, indeed, from this merry

But nothing in their situation, for many a day, seemed to verify such remarks: and very irksome, stupid, and vulgar, in Miss Merrytail's opinion, were her mother's lingering regrets and allusions to their former home, where their highest enjoyment from day to day was to bask on a dunghill, or find themselves disturbed even there by the necessity of providing their own livelihood, to make up for the short allowance obtained from the scatterings of the flail; and very impatiently would shə turn away from the old hen's grateful recollections of the kind master shaking out his sieve for them in the morning after feeding his horses, and of the rosy children that watched them since they broke their shells, and wept when they were sent away.

[ocr errors]

Next to a system of secular education which should meet the necessities of all classes of the population, we do not know of any institutions that would be productive of greater natural good than the general establishment throughout the kingdom, of city, town, and district libra-go-round. I could dance to its music!" In and out ries; and we should accordingly hail with profound gratification any act of the Legislature which would have the effect of establishing such valuable institutions.

Lessons for Little Ones.

A FEAST OR A FAMINE. "FINE times you have here! Is it always this way?" inquired a sprightly young turkey, one of a flock which, just purchased by the lady of the house, had been sent round to make themselves at home at the barn-door. Her question was addressed to a consequential-looking, middle-aged turkey-cock, with a grand aquiline nose, a raby-coloured face, and a swelling chest, who being an old occupant of the place, had set himself to do the honours to the new arrivals with a show of politeness and hospitality very unusual amongst his quarrelsome tribe. This was partly to be accounted for, by the bustle and and plenty going forward at the time; a large thrashing machine being at full work inside the barn, the noise of which silenced even those garrulous birds; while from the wide open door issued a shower of chaff, with its due proportion of grain, more than sufficient to satisfy the appetites of the party, though it had been twice as

numerous.

again she hopped between the old blind horse's legs : this time, however, one of them resenting the liberty with a half lazy kick sent her back to her companions, to her infinite mortification, as the turkey-cock turned red, blue, and almost black in the face, in his polite efforts to smother the laughter produced by her upset.

Thus swimmingly matters proceeded for a fortnight, at least, until the last stack being housed, and a great heap of corn thrashed out in this wholesale manner, the time came for shifting it into bags and sending it off to the market. Better times than ever-no chaff at all nownothing but pure grain falling, falling into their very eyes as it spilled over the mouths of the sacks, until at last fully gorged, they were fain to lie quiet, and even feel thankful to their neighbours the pigs, that now greedily removed the remains of temptation from their sight.

They had stuffed themselves so full that they literally wanted nothing for the two following days, and as the weather turned out rather wet, they thought it just as wise to remain comfortably on their perches under the shed: but the sun shining out gaily the next morning, Miss Merrytail especially thought it better to get up and look for some fun; so, incited by her example, they all sallied out. What a sight met their eyes! The late busy barn-that scene of bustle, noise, and plenty—was silent as the grave; one lingering horse and car just moving off, the last of a file engaged all the morning and the previous day in clearing away the refuse, now rendered by the rain good for nothing but the dunghill: and instead of the soft bed of chaff with its hidden treasures of grain, nothing but the cold bare pavement now reMother, mother, do come here!" cried the above-mained to receive the once again hungry flock. mentioned youngster, who, from her lively conceit, had got the name of Merrytail from her companions, "just look at this heap, with scarcely anything but corn: such plenty to be sure! It never rains but it pours." And glancing at the old turkey-cock as she thus cleverly

We may imagine what an exciting and gratifying scene it must have been to the new comers; these, accustomed to the scanty supply afforded by a quiet pair of flails in a small country barn, now fancying they had reached a land of unfailing abundance, cackled incessantly as they hopped to and fro in a whirl of delight.

[ocr errors]

It must be confessed Miss Merrytail looked rather disconcerted, though affecting to put a good face on the matter; she did not care very much to go near her mother, who might have taken the opportunity to lower her plumes; but sidling up to her old friend, the turkey

cock, she remarked, with rather an off-hand air, "Of course the master will presently come round to give us our breakfast: it is better than nothing, though not to be compared to the pleasure of picking and choosing for ourselves."

"The master, my dear," replied the old gentleman, drily, "I rather think has something to mind beside us, at least I never saw his face."

"Then who is to attend to us?" inquired the young turkey, in rather an affronted tone, "We surely cannot be expected to stay here on the stones."

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

with a toss of the head, as if she never had expected any thing else, she replied, Of course there was no risk of our not being taken care of, though my poor mother, who can never forget her old predilections, looks as woebegone as if we were still on the old farm stint."

[ocr errors]

"You are fond of proverbs, Miss Merrytail," replied her companion, with a complimentary air, "did you ever hear that, the more the merrier; but the less the better fare.' Perhaps your good mother remembers that, in the midst of the lively scenes which afford you such pleasure."

Merrytail vouchsafed no answer to this hint, but walking away, amused herself for the remainder of that day, and the two or three following, in exploring the river's bank, varying her somewhat abundant meals with the blackberries which grew in profusion by the side of the stream: but when weary of this occupation, she again sought her companions, she found their number diminin the very act of seizing on two couples more, remarking at the same time to her young attendant, "The field will be soon all turned up, and between the cattle and the fowl much hasn't gone to waste; 'tis pretty bare now, so we must hasten and manage those before they fall away."

Oh, don't fear, you shall receive attention enough at the proper time," answered the old cock, and something in his tone made her fear to question him farther, though her curiosity was still more highly excited by the approach of the red-armed cook in company with a boy, both evidently making them their object as they advanced straight across the yard. As the pair eyed the flock one by one with a scrutinizing glance, Miss Merry-ished by at least a dozen, and the red-armed cook tail immediately endeavoured to attract particular notice to herself, by ruffling her feathers, dipping her head up and down, and trying to look as smart and pretty as she could. Had her mother been near, she would have prompted a different line of conduct; but the old cock chuckled so discordantly, that he quite startled her nerves; and dropping her late swelling plumes, she looked drooping and lank in a moment, which answered the purpose as well as if she had received all the cautions in the world.

"Those four will do!" exclaimed the red-armed cook, seizing the stated number, somewhat roughly, and pinioning them quickly, two under each arm-Merrytail remarked they were the very finest and fattest of the flock-herself excepted. However, as they were none of her particular friends, she did not feel much anxiety, but waited with rather keener interest to know what was to be done with herself; but apparently she was not deemed worthy of particular notice, the cook merely looking over her shoulder as she turned away, saying, carelessly, "Turn the rest out into the stubble-field." Very indignant was Miss Merrytail; though her mother came up, joyfully exclaiming, "The stubble-field! how my heart warms at the sound of the name! many a pleasant day after harvest have we spent roaming in the stubbles at home long before you were born, child, when I was just such another as yourself; ah! that was liberty, and plenty, and enjoyment indeed.”

But Merrytail was determined not to see with her mother's eyes in any way; her old-fashioned notions were quite unsuited to her: so, drawing up her wings with somewhat of the air with which a fine lady wraps her shawl, she turned away shivering, half muttering to herself, "It is long before my heart could warm to banishment like that."

Arriving at the stubble-field, however, they found it quite an animating scene; and Merrytail's conscience told her that for once her mother had been right; there was even more liveliness, and nearly as much plenty as had been at the barn-door: horses, ploughs, men, hard at work; pigs, sheep, even the donkey, regaling themselves; with the additional improvement of pretty groups of trees, and a bright running stream; though this, indeed, except as a point of scenery, was of no great value to the turkeys. But Merrytail thought on the whole nothing could be more enchanting, and glanced towards her mother every now and then, expecting to hear her ask, "Now who was right?" To her infinite surprise, however, the old lady looked more dejected than ever, and at last, as usual, unable to restrain her curiosity, Miss Merrytail drew near, requesting to know the cause.

But her purpose was frustrated by an encounter with the old turkey-cock, who came up gallantly to congratulate her on the improvement in her prospects since the morning. Immediately all the conceit returned; and

Time enough, the ploughs had advanced within a few yards of the edge of the fence, leaving the rest of the field reduced, and only fit for the crows; the pigs, sheep, and donkey, were gone, and the few remaining turkeys huddled disconsolately under the hedge, seemed as if they were only waiting for marching orders too.

"What a change! What's to come next? Where are all our friends?" enquired Merrytail, of the rest, with her usual volubility; though the depressed looks of the party somewhat startled her, and a slight quiver might have been detected in her habitually confident tones. The old turkey-cock was the only one acquainted with the ways of the place; and as he was no longer in conversational mood, she remained without any information for the present; but when returning to their usual shelter for the night, they had to pass by some of the farm buildings, he considerately drew her aside, and pausing before one door, with a resolute push, set it open, and hopped in, with an expressive look inviting his companion to follow.

There, comfortably lodged all in a row, each in his little boarded chamber, lay the friends from whom she had felt so rudely separated in the morning; heaps of the daintiest fare on wooden platters before them, and as if they had been enjoying themselves to the full, all were fast asleep. Oh, happy creatures!" exclaimed the young turkey, "why was I left behind? Did my mother stand in the way of my promotion? Did she prevent my removal?" And her eyes actually flashed with indignation at the thought.

[ocr errors]

The old turkey-cock's laugh sounded very sneering and disagreeable now, as he replied, "Hush, silly child, your mother has no influence here; follow me." And again with pompous steps he led her through the out-houses, until at last they stood beneath a grating to which she had often seen the cook resort. The place was very chill, and had much of a prison air, and Merrytail felt uncomfortable, though she could not exactly tell why: but without noticing her sensations, her companion, in a tone that seemed more sneering than ever, thus addressed her: "You are young and active, Miss Merrytail, be so kind as hop up to that grating, and tell me what you see."

Nothing loth where discovery was in question, she took a hop and a little flight, and was the next moment at the lattice; there her eyes were actually dazzled with the prospect that met their view-legs of mutton, joints of beef, pies, fish, loaves of bread-in short, all the good fare of a well-stocked Christmas larder. But what-what

is that which suddenly attracts her attention! She gave a second hurried look, and faint and dizzy, fell backwards to the ground, in the last moment of consciousness, catching the low chuckle of the turkey-cock, as with measured steps he strode by.

The sight which so much shocked her may easily be guessed; four of her late companions-relations for aught we know-hung there by the heels: their still unplucked feathers revealing their individuality at a glance as plainly as when alive. In an instant the truth flashed on poor Merrytail's heart-the reason for all the plenty, the end of all the sport; and, shocked as much by direful anticipations as by the horrid certainty before her eyes, she dropped back, as we have told, almost lifeless on the pavement.

How different did she look the next day, and many a day after, nestling close beside her mother's wing, meekly turning back to that natural shelter, as if there only lay safety from the impending fate! How precious seemed every word, every moment, when each might be the last! and how little she heeded their now diminished fare, or the loneliness that reigned through the deserted field! Again and again their numbers were thinned by four at a ❘ time; and when reduced to the last, though Merrytail was still one of the few, it would have been difficult to recognise the once sprightly, conceited creature, in the drooping, timorous bird that flew off at the sound of a footstep, or cowered close beneath the hedge.

At last the cook's voice was heard one morning as she came along her usual path at the other side of the hedge; but this time it was answered in deep manly tones, very different from those of the gruff boy, her former companion; and both Merrytail and her mother, now thoroughly of one mind, had barely time to exchange a hopeful glance, when the cook, accompanied by their former master, the farmer, entered the field.

"So the old hen is still alive: well, my dame will be right glad of that: never was there a better, according to her account: tell your mistress that she may reckon on another flock just as good next year, since she was kind enough to order the mother to be spared."

"For that matter, here's another of the brood," added the cook, 66 as one may say, she's as like as two eggs to her mother; if one is good, so ought the other; and if she don't lay she's good for nothing else, she's such a spent creature now; so you may just as well bundle her up too."

"With all my heart," replied the farmer; "two are always better than one; though, as you say, but for her likeness to her mother, this would be hardly worth the taking."

So Merrytail had reason to glory in the resemblance she would once have disdained. Instead of feeling it a mortification, it from thenceforth became her highest boast, though aware that it placed her in a secondary position. The old turkey-cock was left behind; his clain to sympathy too slight to expect much, he still looked wistfully after the parting group-literally crestfallenneither sneer nor chuckle now. It was Merrytail's turn, but her better nature prevailed. She had been too lately delivered from misery herself to feel aught but genuine compassion when the cook throwing back one of her cold-blooded glances, remarked, "He will do to make, broth."

And returning to her old home a wiser, though a sadder bird, where, in course of time, she became a parent, the lesson she chiefly dwelt on in instructing her young ones, coincided with what we have learned as the saying of the wisest "My son, seek not thou great things for thyself."

HOUSEHOLD DUTIES FOR YOUNG LADIES.

I AM sure that some-perhaps most-girls have a keener relish of household drudgery than of almost any

pleasure that could be offered them. They positively like making beds, making fires, laying the cloth, and washing up crockery, baking bread, preserving fruit, clearstarching, and ironing. And why in the world should they not do it? Why should not the little lady have her little ironing-box and undertake the ironing of the pocket-handkerchiefs? I used to do this; and I am sure it gave me a great deal of pleasure, and did me nothing but good. On washing and ironing days, in houses of the middle class, where all the servants are wanted in the wash-house or laundry, why should not the children do the service of the day? It will be a treat to them to lay the breakfast-cloth, and bring up the butter from the cellar, and toast the bread; and, when breakfast is over, to put everything in its place again, and wash the china, and rub and polish the trays. They may do the same again at dinner; and while the servants are at meals, they may carry on the ironing in the laundry. And afterwards, there comes that capital exercise of sense and patience, and skill-the stocking-darning, which, done properly, is a much higher exercise than many people suppose. And when visitors come, why should not the girls have the chief pleasure which "company" gives to them-the making the custards and the tarts, dishing up the fruit, and bringing out the best table-linen? And what little girl is there in a market-town who does not like going to market with her father or her mother, till she can be trusted to go by herself? Does she not like seeing the butcher's cleverness in cutting off what is wanted, and trying to guess the weight of joints by the look, and admiring the frech butter, and the array of fowls, and the heap of eggs, and the piles of vegetables and fruit? I believe it is no small treat to a girl to jump up early on the market-day morning, and reckon on the sight she is going to see. The anxiety may be great when she begins to be the family purchaser; but it is a proud office too; and when the first shyness is over, there is much variety and pleasantness in it.-Miss Martineau's Household Education.

Practice in German; adapted for Self Instruction. By FALCK LEBARN. London: Whittaker and Co. 1849. THE German language is now a fashionable study. It is rich in varied resources; and the literature of the country offers to those who acquire it an exhaustless stream of delight, of interest, and of valuable information: but the gate to this wide field has hitherto been blocked up by the clumsy looking instruction issued from the press. Mr. Falck Lebahn, in his "German in One Volume," cleared the way, smoothed the road, and, if we may speak metaphorically, bridged all the rivers of difficulty and obscurity which arrested the traveller's progress. Thus the passage was opened, and the student had nothing to do but advance. The same writer has now, however, in his

Practice in German," provided the learner with a vehicle to carry him a great way forward. By his plan, the chief obstacles to the speedy and complete acquirement of the language are removed; and we may impartially say, that whoever is at the pains to study these companion volumes with common diligence, will in a short time find himself master of no little of the German language. They are simple in their plan, admirable in their arrangement, and reflect the utmost credit on Mr. Falck Lebahn, whose talents are only equalled by his industry. They have been warmly eulogized by every portion of the press, and fully deserve the panegyric which has been bestowed on them, as being at once the best planned, and the best executed works of instruction which have been prepared for the German student. We recommend them to such of our readers as may wish to acquire a language now so widely studied, and always so valuable. They will thank us we are sure, for this brief note of introduction.

Rhymes for Young Readers.

TRY AGAIN.

King Bruce of Scotland flung himself down
In a lonely mood to think;

'Tis true he was monarch, and wore a crown,
But his heart was beginning to sink.

For he had been trying to do a great deed,
To make his people glad,

He had tried and tried, but couldn't succeed,
And so he became quite sad.

He flung himself down in low despair,

As grieved as man could be;

And after a while as he pondered there,

"I'll give it all up," said he.

Now just at the moment a spider dropp'd,

With its silken cobweb clue,

And the king in the midst of his thinking stopp'd

To see what the spider would do

'Twas a long way up to the ceiling dome,

And it hung by a rope so fine,

That how it would get to its cobweb home,
King Bruce could not divine.

It soon began to cling and crawl

Straight up with strong endeavour,
But down it came with a slippery sprawl,
As near to the ground as ever.

Up, up it ran, not a second it stayed,
To utter the least complaint,

Till it fell still lower, and there it laid,
A little dizzy and faint.

Its head grew steady-again it went,
And travelled a half-yard higher,
'Twas a delicate thread it had to tread,
And a road where its feet would tire.

Again it fell and swung below,

But again it quickly mounted,

Till up and down, now fast, now slow,
Nine brave attempts were counted.

"Sure," cried the King, "that foolish thing Will strive no more to climb,

When it toils so hard to reach and cling,
And tumbles every time."

But up the insect went once more,
Ali me, 'tis an anxious minute,

He's only a foot from his cobweb door,
Oh, say will he lose or win it!

Steadily, steadily, inch by inch,

Higher and higher he got,

And a bold little run at the very last pinch Put him into his native spot.

'Bravo, bravo!" the King cried out, "All honour to those who try, The spider up there defied despair,

He conquered, and why shouldn't I?”

And Bruce of Scotland braced his mind,
And gossips tell the tale,

That he tried once more as he tried before,
And that time did not fail.

Pay goodly heed, all ye who read,

And beware of saying, "I can't," 'Tis a cowardly word, and apt to lead To Idleness, Folly, and Want. Whenever you find your heart despair Of doing some goodly thing, Con over this strain, try bravely again, And remember the Spider and King! ELIZA COOK.

DIAMOND DUST.

A poem must be either music or sense; if it is neither, it possesses no interest.

THE wretched are great readers of countenances.

In the natural history of insects, the grub turns into a butterfly; but it often occurs in the natural history of man, that the butterfly turns into a grub.

Ir is good and elevating to believe that there are men who preserve in manhood the boyish bloom of their openhearted teens; but as it is a rare fortune to meet them, let us honour, cherish, and love them, in proportion to their scarcity.

SPEAK of yourself as seldom as may be. If you praise yourself, it is arrogance; if you dispraise, it is folly.

UTILITY is the truest test of excellence.

PATIENCE is power in a man, warning him to rein his spirit.

A house is no home unless it contain food and fire for the mind as well as for the body.

OFTEN from our weaknesses our strongest principles of conduct are born; and, from the acorn which a breeze has wafted, springs the oak which defics the storm. TRUE art finds beauty everywhere.

Ir is more noble to make yourself great than to be born so.

WE may safely fix our esteem on those whom we hear some people depreciate.

BENEVOLENCE is allied to few vices; selfishness to fewer virtues.

HUMILITY is the low but broad and deep foundation of every virtue.

EVERY day is a little life, and our whole life is but a day repeated.

Or all struggles, the endeavour to be just is the greatest.

WHEN we are alone, we have our thoughts to watch; in our families, our tempers; and in society, our tongues. EVERY time a man breaks a divine law, he adds a thorn to the rod which he puts into pickle for his own back.

Ir is the prerogative of genius to elevate obscure men to the higher class of society.

WISE sayings often fall to the ground, but a kind word is never thrown away.

READING is the ally, not the adversary of genius; and he who reads in a proper spirit can scarcely read too much.

CRITICISM is a study by which men grow important and formidable at very small expense.

WHEN the domestic virtues display themselves in the midst of privations, and anxieties, and sufferings, then they shine most conspicuously. They are like the snowdrops and crocuses, which unexpectedly peep out of the frost-bound soil, to diversify the depth and dreariness of winter, and give us a cheerful foretaste of the coming spring.

SUSPECT men and women who affect great softness of manner, an unruffled evenuess of temper, and an enunciation studied, slow, and deliberate. These things are all unnatural, and bespeak a degree of mental discipline into which he that has no sinister motive cannot submit to drill himself. The most successful knaves are sharp, and smooth as razors dipped in oil. They affect the innocence of the dove to hide the cunning of the serpent.

Printed and Published for the Proprietor, by Joux OWEN CLARKE, (of No. 9, Hemingford Terrace, East, in the Parish of St. Mary, Islington, in the County of Middlesex) at his Frinting Office, No. 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride, in the City of London, Saturday, January 19, 1850.

« AnteriorContinua »