PRIVATE CHARACTER OF A LOCOMOTIVE. PEOPLE who may see a locomotive tearing up and down the land at the rate of forty miles an hour, making the earth tremble beneath its giant tread, and the heavens themselves reverberate with its fearful clatter, scaring nature with its unearthly din, and frightening all creation almost from its propriety, people who only see it in its terrible activity have no idea what eminently social virtues it is endowed with. This is its public character. Its private one is another affair. Now and then, one of these huge monsters, in whose iron bowels slumber more than a thousand giants' power, comes up and stands under our window, and smokes away as gently as the most exemplary cooking stove, its huge steam pipes singing a strain as soft and as dulcet as the most amiable teakettle, and its lungs of steel breathing as sweetly as an infant in its slumbers. But the demon of power is there. Let any one but pinch his ears, and no venerable spinster cat will spit more fiercely. Let him gripe those iron hands, and the pipes which were tuned to so soft a strain send forth a yell as if heaven and earth were coming together, and those lungs which first breathed so quietly cough like volcanos and off it goes, darkening the heavens with its volumes of smoke. LET NOT THE SUN GO DOWN UPON YOUR WRATH. "Father, forgive us!" is our daily prayer, When the worn spirits feels its helpless death; Yet in our lowly greatness do we dare To seek from heaven what we refuse on earth. Too often will the bosom, sternly proud, Bear shafts of vengeance on its graveward path; Deaf to the teaching that has cried aloud, Were this remember'd, many a human lot, Would find more blessings in our home below; The sacred counsels of the wise impart No holier words in all that language hath; "Lets not the sun go down upon its wrath." ONE day, Count Orloff, the favourite and accomplice of the Empress of Russia, in more ways than one, exhibited himself to a Samoied deputy in robes of state, refulgent with diamonds. The savage surveyed him attentively, but silently. "May I ask,” said the favourite, "what is it you admire ?" "Nothing," replied the Tartar; "I was thinking how ridiculous you are." "Ridiculous!" cried Orloff, angrily; "and pray in what?" Why, you have your beard to look young, and powder your hair to look old." EGOTISM. "IT is a hard and nice subject," says Cowley, "for a man to speak of himself; it grates his own heart to say anything of disparagement; and the readers' ease and the readers' ears to hear anything in disparagement of him. THE WORLD OF WORDS. SOFT words soften the soul. Angry words are fuel to the flame of wrath, and make its might blaze more freely. Kind words make other people good natured. Cold words freeze people, and hot words scorch them, and better words make them better, and wrathful words make them wrathful. There is such a rush of all other kind of words in our days, that it seems desirable to give kind words a chance among them. There are vain words, and idle words, and hasty words, and spiteful words, and silly words, and empty words, and profane words, and boisterous words, and warlike words. Kind words also produce their own image on mens' souls; and a beautiful image it is. They smooth and quiet, and comfort the hearer. They shame him out of his sorer, and morose, and unkind feelings. We have not yet begun to use kind words in such abundance as they ought to be used. EFFECT OF A GOOD APPETITE. "My friend," said the keeper of an hotel, to an over avaricious boarder, " you eat so much that I shall have to charge you an extra half-dollar." "An extra half-dollar !" replied his boarder, with his countenance the very picture of pain, "for goodness sake don't do that; I'm most dead now, eating three dollars' worth, and if you put on an extra half-dollar, I shall certainly burst, I shall." A LADY renowned for repartee, and a gentleman noted for tenacity to his own opinion, were overheard in deep and earnest conversation. Says Mr. M. (waxing rather warm)—" Mrs. C., 'facts are stubborn things.'" Says Mrs. C. to Mr. M.,-" Then what a fact you must be." A SOUL, like an instrument of music, should be well-tuned, to meet the various strains the hand of destiny may call from its thrilling chords. Firmly, yet sweetly, should its tones ring out, of whatever character they are. Strong, but sweet music still, should a God strengthened spirit yield, beneath the touch of sorrow or adversity, as sweet, though it may be sadder, as in its days of brightest power. A COUNTRY editor thinks that Columbus is not intitled to much credit for discovering America, as the country is so large he could not well have missed it! THE WAY TO STRENGTHEN BODY AND MIND. CHILDREN should be taught in such a manner as to be promoted unceasingly to the most vigorous exertions of their own talents. The human mind is not a mere vessel, into which knowledge is to be poured. It is better compared to a bee, fed during the first period of its existence by the labours of others; but intended, ere long, to lift its wings in the active employment of collecting sweets from every field within its reach. To such excursions as to the accomplishment of such purposes the mind should be early and sedulously allured. This is the only way to give it energy and strength. Without the active exercise of its powers, neither body nor mind can acquire vigour. Without bodily exertion, Goliath six cubits high, would have been only a gigantic boy; without mental efforts, Newton would have been merely an infant of days. AN OLD BACHELOR'S DEATH. Groaning and moaning, Though nought is he leaving But pelf and ill-health, Himself and his wealth. He sends for a doctor to cure or to kill, Who gives him advice, and offence, and a pill, And drops him a hint about making his will. As fretful antiquity cannot be mended, SLANDER. SLANDER is a secret propensity of the mind to think ill of all men, and afterwards to utter such sentiments in scandalous expressions. CULTIVATED FIELDS. A GERMAN priest was walking in procession at the head of the parishioners over cultivated fields, in order to procure a blessing on the crops. When he came to one of unpromising appearance, he would pass on, saying, " Here prayers will avail nothing; this must have manure.' THOUGH reading and conversation may furnish us with many ideas of men and things, yet it is our own meditations that must form our judgment. JUDGE ROOKE, in going the Western Circuit, had a great stone thrown at his head, but from the circumstance of his stooping very much, it passed over him. 'You see," said he, " had I been an upright Judge, I might have been killed." 66 THE MAN THAT SEES YOU. IF the man in the moon could speak to the people on earth, how many would blush to hear him. THE IMPORTANT TRIFLES. LIKE flakes of snow that fall unperceived upon the earth, the seemingly unimportant events of life succeed one another. As the snow gathers together, so are our habits formed. No single flake that is added to the pile produces a sensible change; no single action creates, however it may exhibit, a man's character; but as the tempest hurls the avalanche down the mountain, and overwhelms the inhabitant and his habitation, so passion, acting upon the elements of mischief, which pernicious habits have brought together by imperceptible accumulations, may overthrow the edifice of truth and virtue. JANUARY. Stern winter's icy breath, intensely keen, Now chills the blood, and withers every green; Civilized nations in general now agree to begin reckoning the new year from the first of January. It is the coldest month in this part of the world; and, in England, we have seldom now much frost or snow before it. The weather is commonly either clear dry frost, or fog and snow, with rain now and then intermixed. Nothing can be more wonderful than the effect of frost. These effects are painted in a very lively manner, by Thompson, in his Seasons. An icy gale, oft shifting, o'er the pool Loud rings the frozen earth, and hard reflects A double noise, while at his evening watch The village dog deters the nightly thief; The heifer lows; the distant waterfall Swells in the breeze; and with the hasty tread It freezes on, Till morn, late rising o'er the drooping world, Lifts her pale eye unjoyous. Then appears The various labour of the silent night; Prone from the dripping eve, and dumb cascade, The pendant icicle; the frost work fair, Where transient hues and fancy'd figures rise: Water, when frozen, is expanded; that is, takes up more room than before; hence ice is lighter than water, and swims upon it. VOL. I. 2 L The beauty of a country Snow is the water of clouds frozen. all clothed in new fallen snow is very striking. The cherish'd fields Put on their winter robe of purest white. 'Tis brightness all; save where the new snow melts Is one wild dazzling waste, that buries wide, Hail stones are drops of rain suddenly congealed into a hard mass, so as to preserve their figure. Hoar frost is dew or mist frozen. Sometimes, it happens, that a sudden shower of rain falls during a frost, and immediately turns to ice. A remarkable scene is then produced, which the following lines most beautifully describe :Ere yet the clouds let fall the treasur'd snow, Or winds begun thro' hazy skies to blow, And every pointed thorn seem'd wrought in glass; In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorn's show, The thick sprung reeds the watery marshes yield, The stag, in limpid currents, with surprise, Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise. The spreading oak, the beech, and tow'ring pine, The frighted birds the rattling branches shun, The brittle forest into atoms flies; The cracking wood beneath the tempest bends, The domestic cattle now require all the care and protection of the farmer, and tended with as much care as the farmers' own children. Now, shepherds, to your helpless charge be kind, |