MAGNANIMITY.

Or all virtues magnanimity is the rarest.

There are a hundred

persons for one who willingly acknowledge it in another. When a man misses any thing, his first idea is that somebody has stolen it; though he ascertains, ninety-nine times in a hundred, that the loss is from his own carelessness.

WELLINGTON

IN MEMORIAM.

BURIED 18TH NOVEMBER, 1852.

Embalm the venerated clay;

Rear high the monumental stone;
The homage of a mourning land,

Let glorious obsequies enthrone.

Give dust to dust with martial pomp;
Let conquered banners be display'd;
And on the grand sarcophagus,
Victories' trophies laid.

Assemble all your proudest hosts;

Stand, Prince, and People, round the tomb;

Behold the broad effulgent ray,

That gilds its solemn gloom.

The sepulchre no shadow throws,

When the illustrious pass from sight;

Glory with living lustre glows;

The star is quench'd in light.

WE should manage our fortune like our constitution; enjoy it when good, have patience when bad, and never apply violent remedies but in cases of necessity.

VENERATE the man who regrets the anguish he gave to another, but beware of him who strives to spread discontent and uneasiness, for he who is regardless of giving pain, will not hesitate to practise other base and cruel actions.

A LEGAL gentleman who lately paid his addresses to the daughter of a tradesman, was forbidden the house, on which he sent in a bill of ninety-one pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence, for two hundred and seventy-five attendances advising on family affairs.

It is sorrow that makes our experience-we must feel deeply before we think rightly.

NOTHING is more agonising than suspense-the torturing vibration between hope and fear. The certainty-the actual infliction of the dreaded evil-is a comparative relief; even as the mortification of the frame, which, though certain death, is hailed by the sufferer as a relief from his agony.

NOTHING shows a kind heart more than sparing the feelings of those who are conscious of their inferiority.

"BEING TALKED ABOUT."

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THESE few words appear to admit of but one signification. It is quite impossible that any person can be "talked about" for any good deed or amiable conduct. No Christian virtue or Hindoo fortitude will insure the loquacious distinction—“ Have you heard how Brown's affairs are being talked about?' says Mr. Hawkins, the baker, to Mr. Giles, the butcher. It is enough; what talismanic power lies in those simple syllables; what visions immediately arise in Mr. Giles's mind of Mr. Brown's being considerably enthralled; of bills dishonoured, and The Gazette in perspective. "How shocking it is that Miss Simpson should be talked about' in the way she is," is the exclamation of some elderly matron, whose physical energies are vigorously applied to a cup of smoking Howqua" and two square inches of toast. The raw pork of the German never produced such appalling phantasies as these few words. Flirtations, dissipations, improprieties, and all the anti-modest crimes in the calendar flash on the touchpaper imagination of every feminine listener, especially if the said Miss Simpson happen to be very clever or very pretty. Curiosity and condemnation go hand in-hand as it is elicited that the young lady has been seen at the Opera in very gay company," and is positively known to kiss her fingers to a tall dashing fellow, who passes her window unnecessarily often. She has fallen from her high estate of "immaculate purity." It is of no use to urge her sweet temper, her generons sincerity, or her well-known good principles. Poor Miss Simpson is lost, for she is "talked about.' gossipping discussions are, no doubt, very interesting to narrow, envious minds; but it may be remarked that if every masculine retailer of ill news were to attend to his own ledger and his own business, rather than those of his neighbour; and if every feminine scandalizer were to look thoroughly into her own improprieties before she defamed her acquaintance, there would be much less in the world generally to be "talked about.”

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A FATAL ERROR.

Such

BISHOP WARBURTON says he saw the following epitaph in Northumberland :

Here lies, to parents, friends, and country dear,
A youth who scarce had seen his seventeenth year;
But in that time so much good sense had shown
That Death mistook seventeen for seventy-one.

EPITAPH.

THE following pithy epitaph appears in a country churchyard:

Life is a jest, and all things show it,

I thought so once, but now I know it.

*

CRITICISM.

TRUE criticism is the application of taste and good sense to the several fine arts. The object which it proposes is to distinguish what is beautiful, and what is faulty in every performance; from particular instances to ascend to general principles, and so to form rules and conclusions concerning the several kinds of beauty in works of genius.

AN AFFAIR OF IMPORTANCE. HARRIET "Oh! I am so glad you are come, Blanche! I have been so perplexed I could hardly sleep all night." Blanche"Well! what is it dear ?" Harriet-" Why, I don't know whether to have my new merino frock violet or dark blue!"

JULY.

Deep to the root

Of vegetation parch'd, the cleaving fields
And slipp'ry lawns an arid hue disclose;
Echo no more returns the cheerful sound

Of sharp'ning scythe; the mower sinking heaps
O'er him the humid hay, with flowers perfum❜d.

The animal creation seem oppressed with langour at this hot season, and either seek the recesses of woods, or resort to pools and streams to cool their bodies and quench their thirst.

On the grassy bank

Some ruminating lie; while others stand

Half in the flood, and often bending sip

The circling surface. In the middle droops

The strong laborious ox, of honest front,

Which incompos'd he shakes; and from his sides

The troublous insects lashes with his tail,

Returning still.

The insect tribe, however, are peculiarly active and vigorous in the hottest weather.

Wak'd by his warmer ray, the reptile young
Come wing'd abroad; by the light air upborn,
Lighter, and full of soul. From every chink,
And secret corner, where they slept away,
The wintry storms; or rising from their tombs
To higher life; by myriads, forth at once,
Swarming they pour; of all the varied hues
Their beauty-beaming parent can disclose.
Ten thousand forms! ten thousand different tribes!
People the blaze. To sunny waters some

By fatal instinct fly; where on the pool

They, sportive, wheel; or sailing down the stream,
Are snatch'd immediate by the quick ey'd trout
Or darting salmon. Thro' the green wood glade
Some love to stray; there lodg'd, amus'd, and fed;
In the fresh leaf. Luxurious, others make
The meads their choice, and visit every flower,
VOL. II.

G

And every latent herb: for the sweet task,
To propagate their kinds, and where to wrap,
In what soft beds, their young yet undisclos'd,
Employs their tender care. Some to the house,
The fold, and dairy, hungry, bend their flight;
Sip round the pail, or taste the curding cheese.

The luxury of cooling shades in this month is now peculiarly grateful; and, indeed, is scarcely desired in this climate longer than a few weeks at the height of summer.

Welcome ye shades! ye bowery thickets, hail!

Ye lofty pines! ye venerable oaks!

Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep!
Delicious is your shelter to the soul,
As to the hunted hart the sallying spring.

BACON'S MIND.

A SIMILE.

THE small fire mind of Labruyére had not a more delicate tact than the large intellect of Bacon. The essays contain abundant proofs that no nice feature of character, no peculiarity in the ordering of a house, a garden, or a court-masque, could escape the notice of one whose mind was capable of taking in the whole world of knowledge. His understanding resembled the tent which the fairy Paribanou gave to Prince Ahmed. Fold it; and it seemed a toy for the hand of a lady. Spread it; and the armies of powerful Sultan's might repose beneath its shade. In keenness of observation he has been equalled, though, perhaps, never surpassed. But the largeness of his mind was all his own. The glance with which he surveyed the intellectual universe resembled that which the archangel, from the golden threshold of heaven, darted down into new creation

"Round he surveyed, and well might, where he stood

So high above the circling canopy

Of nights extended shade, from eastern point

Of Libra, to the fleecy star which bears

Andromeda far off Atlantic seas

Beyond the horizon."

THE CURTAIN DRAWN ASIDE.

THE two gentlemen who had, on the previous night, enacted Hamlet and Polonius, in an obscure town in Yorkshire, were walking, arm-in-arm, to rehearsal, when a gang of youngsters was collected about them by a lad, who had witnessed the performance, shouting at the top of his voice, Dang me if here bean't t'ould chap that was killed walking wi' feller as did it."

NEW DEFINITIONS.-Rebus: to kiss again.

Omnibus: to

kiss them all. Blunderbuss: to kiss another man's wife, Sylla [y]buss: one lady kissing another.

OF RAIN.

RAIN comes from clouds driven from one point of the air to another more cold, or from vapours elevated from the lower to the middle region of the air, which is more cold. These clouds being condensed by this cold turn to water, which by its gravity falls to the earth in small parcels called drops, formed by the agitation of the air. Hence it is, that rain for most part follows, a south, but seldom a north wind; though from particular causes, it may happen, that the air is more warm sometimes in a more northern than in a more southerly place. In France, they have seldom rain when the wind is in the east, but frequently when in the west; because the sea is on that quarter, from whence a great quantity of vapours arise, which form clouds, and are brought into France by that wind. Rain is also formed from clouds elevated to the middle region of the air, which is more cold than ordinary at sometimes. Hence it is, that those vapours are hastily condensed as they rise, and before the other vapours can arrive there. Thus they form little clouds heaped one upon another, that makes the sky look as if it were curdled. This shews that vapours are rising from the earth; that the middle region is more cold than ordinary, and presages rain. When that part of the horizon where the sun rises or sets is of a pale yellowish colour, it shews, that there are many vapours in the air, and foretells bad weather. But when the same parts of the horizon are of a bright red, there are few vapours in the air, and those very subtile; the rays of the sun coming then to us horizontally, they meet the better with those few subtile vapours and exhalations, which, denotes a continuation of good weather, especially if the wind in the south or west points has not begun to blow.

OF SNOW.

SNOW comes from this, that in the winter, the regions of the air, are altogether cold, and the clouds meeting that great cold everywhere, pass very soon from that degree of condensation which is requisite to change them to rain, to that which is necessary to change them to ice, so that in winter, as soon as the clouds begin to change into rain, the small particles of water immediately freeze, and turn to snow, which touching upon one another make flakes; and having small intervals like so many pores, are therefore very light. All these flakes continuing for most part together, have still intervals betwixt one another, and together form a cloud, which though it appears thick, yet, because of those small intervals, is easily carried about; therefore those flakes take some time before they fall to the ground. The snow is not changed into a sensible body of ice during that time, because when it is once formed, the small intervals which are only filled with subtile air, hinder it to be changed into any other form. It falls when the wind divides its flakes into other smaller ones, which then fall to