a very fair character as a whole, while in reality he was the instigator of much that was not only forbidden, but absolutely wrong. Indeed, whoever acted under the guidance of this boy, could scarcely avoid doing wrong, because his plan was to deceive, so far at least as to secure his own gratification and amusement, without losing his good name and standing in the school. Charles Hetherington was not a boy of absolutely bad character, at any rate before entering Dr. Lambert's academy. He was not even now the black sheep of the flock. He would scarcely have been called a boy of bad principles-rather one of no principle at all-one who thought only of the passing moment, and how to get the greatest possible enjoyment for himself out of it at any price. He was no deep, deliberate deceiver, who could lay his plans systematically-rather, a volatile, quick-witted fellow, ever ready at subterfuge; one who, when closely pushed, would tell a falsehood with a droll grimace, making his companions laugh, while he put on a face of solemn gravity-"Only for fun," he would have said. He meant no harm to anybody, and the boys, the little boys especially, delighted in Charles Hetherington, and thought him a hero. To Harry Dunlop the companionship of such a boy was neither attractive nor agreeable. He and Charley, the favourite of the school, had not an inch of common ground to stand upon together; and they seemed to be fully aware of this fact. From the first they were mutually repelled, but had never quarrelled, partly because Charley possessed a temper that was seldom if ever ruffled. Those who care nothing about right and wrong, find indeed comparatively little to disturb themall goes well with them, so long as their own personal enjoyments are secured. Nothing could have been more incompre hensible to this youth, than why Harry Dunlop should get himself into trouble about the moral condition of the school; and he was, perhaps, never heard to laugh more heartily, than when the cause of Harry's being sent away was discussed amongst the boys, who being for the most part glad that he was going, joined in the laugh, and thoroughly enjoyed the varying, but ridiculous comments made upon the affair altogether. The It was true that Harry must go. Doctor did not feel sure of his life while he remained, and the masters declined undertaking the responsibility of such a pupil. Mr. Godwin was therefore communicated Such was this lively, pleasant, and really good-natured youth, for the first year or two of his school-life; but as no principle is apt to become bad principle, so, under the merely outside rule of Dr. Lambert's academy, Charley" as the boys called him, was growing up into a selfish, bad man-selfish, although he could freely throw away his money when it suited his fancy to do so; and bad, because he had never learned to recog-with, and Harry himself wrote immediately nise, reverence, and love what is good. In fact, the good and evil of things generally were considerations neither interesting nor familiar to him. It was "what I like ""what I mean to have, or to do "-these were the considerations which had weight with him; and they were all, or nearly so. Beyond this, Charles Hetherington had a gentlemanly manner, a handsome face, an agreeable and affable address, and he was not backward in doing little acts of kindness which gained him more good-will than they on the same subject, not sparing himself, and certainly not sparing others. His anxious fears respecting his brother Archy had been the only cause of sadness to him on quitting the establishment; and it was chiefly while pursuing his somewhat melancholy journey, that he called to mind the many dangerous and unpleasant phases of the character just described. He did not like the boy, but Archy did that was the trouble which hung upon his spirits; for Archy would always defend Charles Hetherington against his brother's contemptuous remarks, sometimes on the plea that he was kind, or amusing, or gentlemanly, and always that he was goodnatured. "If that fellow should pretend to take little Archy up," said Harry to himself, "it will be all over with him." With this thought he sank back in the carriage which was conveying him rapidly to Eastwick, and felt perhaps as miserable and depressed as he had ever done in his short life. Indeed, there was much in his present situation to make him feel so. It is true that he had a comfortable home in prospect, for Mr. Godwin had written kindly, notwithstanding a letter of grave complaint against the boy from the head master of the academy,-it is true that he was going to enjoy the calm of a well-regulated Christian household, with no small share in the parental care and affectionate interest prevailing there; but still there were considerations connected with this sudden change that were anything but gratifying to Harry's self-esteem, and the word expelled seemed to his imagination to be written not only upon his own person, but upon his portmanteau, and upon all that belonged to him. It was no small comfort to Harry, on arriving at the village nearest to Eastwick, to see the well-known figure of Mr. Godwin, who had come in his pony chaise to meet him. "It was Mrs. Godwin's doing," he said; "she would not rest until I promised her that I would come myself." But it was not altogether so. together so. His own heart had been deeply touched by the situation of the boy, left in a strange country, and coming back without either parents or home. From Harry's strongly-worded letter to himself, he thought he understood the whole state of the case as it related to his being sent away from school. Dr. Lambert's was a school which he had never liked for these boys. In their case he considered it especially unsuitable; but the matter was a delicate one to meddle in; and he had deemed it best, all things considered, to let the experiment be fairly tried. Harry Dunlop was to be Mr. Godwin's pupil now. Such had been the arrangement made before his parents left the country, that if anything occurred to render the stay of the boys at the academy unsuitable, they should finish their education under Mr. Godwin's care; or be otherwise disposed of according to the best of his judgment. OF MARRIAGE. EEK a good wife of thy God, for she is the best gift of His providence ; thereunto; And leave thy petition to His mercy, assured that He will deal well with thee. Youth longeth for a kindred spirit, and yearneth for a heart that can commune with his own; He meditateth night and day, doting on the image of his fancy. Take heed that what charmeth thee is real, nor springeth of thine own imagination; And suffer not trifles to win thy love, for a wife is thine unto death. The harp and the voice may thrill thee, and sound may enchant thine ear, But consider thou, the hand will wither, and the sweet notes turn to discord: Where the golden chain of godliness is entwined with the roses of love: But beware thou seem not to be holy to win favour in the eyes of a creature, Let her be a child of God, that she bring with her a blessing to thy house- Let her be an heir of Heaven; so shall she help thee on thy way: Take heed lest she love thee before God-that she be not an idolater: Observe her deportment with others, when she thinketh not that thou art nigh Hath she learning? it is good, so that modesty go with it; Hath she wisdom? it is precious, but beware that thou exceed; For woman must be subject, and the true mastery is of the mind. Be joined to thine equal in rank, or the foot of pride will kick at thee; And look not only for riches, lest thou be mated with misery; Marry not without means, for so shouldst thou tempt Providence ; But wait not for more than enough, for marriage is the duty of most men: Grievous, indeed, must be the burden that shall outweigh innocence and health, And a well-assorted marriage hath not many cares. In the day of thy joy consider the poor: thou shalt reap a rich harvest of blessing; For these be the pensioners of One who filleth thy cup with pleasures: In the day of thy joy be thankful-He hath well deserved thy praise; Mean and selfish is the heart that seeketh Him only in sorrow. For her sake, who leaneth on thine arm, court not the notice of the world, And remember that sober privacy is comelier than public display. If thou marriest, thou art allied unto strangers; see they be not such as shame thee: Bride and bridegroom, pilgrims of life, henceforward to travel together: And at eventide kneel ye together, that your joy be not unhallowed: And reverence well becometh the symbol of dignity and glory. Keep thy heart pure, lest thou do dishonour to thy state. Selfishness is base and hateful; but love considereth not itself. The wicked turneth good into evil, for his mind is warped within him; But the heart of the righteous is chaste-his conscience casteth off sin. If thou wilt be loved, render implicit confidence; If thou wouldst not suspect, receive full confidence in turn; Hide not your grief nor your gladness; be open, one with the other. Let bitterness be strange unto your tongues, but sympathy a dweller in your hearts : TUPPER. PROVERBS. NE man's wit and all men's wisdom," a definition extemporised by Lord John Russell, at Sir James Mackintosh's breakfast-table, is the best description of a proverb with which we are acquainted. As terse as the "Celebre dictum, scità quassiam novitate insigne" of Erasmus, or the "Much matter decocted into few words," of Thomas Fuller, it comes more within our modern limits than Ray's "Short sentence or phrase in common use, containing some trope, figure, homonymy, rhyme, or other novelty of expression;" whilst, over and above, it gives the rationale of this universal literature-the origin and rise of the popular adage. For the gift of utterance does not always accompany the gift of understanding. Although there may be exceptional instances, like the Merry Monarch, "Who never said a foolish thing, And never did a wise one;" we have no doubt that most people have got more wisdom in their heads than they have ever been able to put into their words. There are many who pass through life judiciously, usefully, honourably, who have never uttered one memorable saying. Mute sages, dumb philosophers, saints dwelling in silence, they let their light shine, and they manage their affairs with discretion, but they give forth no oracles. Hereafter they will be remembered, not for the good things they have said, but for the right deeds they have done. It will be their "works," not their words, which will "follow them." Such practical men, however, are often quick in recognizing their own principles of action when enunciated by others; and, whether it be a forcible observation in a sermon, a pithy sentence in a book, or a happy hit in the harangue of a public speaker, they hail with delight a maxim in which their own minds are so vividly reflected, and which exhibits so well the rationale of their own procedure. "That man speaks sense," is their instant response to the saying which gives a key to so many of their own actions, and the truth of which a lifetime's experience enables them to countersign. "It is just what I myself have always thought;" and, not without a certain selfcomplacency, they treasure up the dictum, and produce from time to time its portable and much-comprehending philosophy. Nevertheless, a maxim does not necessarily become a proverb. Many grubs never grow to butterflies; and a maxim is only a proverb in its caterpillar stage-a candidate for a wider sphere and longer flight than most are destined to attain. And, in order to secure universal currency, it must meet a general want, and it must suit the popular taste. Hence, in every community, it is with "poor Richard," and his brethren among the people, that most proverbs have originated; and, in as far as any of them may have had a literary source, we should look for their first promulgation not to Hooker, and Milton, and Sir Thomas Brown, and the souls sublime who were more cosmopolite than British, but to Latimer, and Shakspeare, and Bunyan, who never spoke to hearts of oak unless with an English tongue. Fine speeches may be quoted; but they are only the standing homely saws of Anglo-Saxon parentage, which keep their ground, and are transmitted from age to age. As far as we are acquainted with the proverbs of any modern nation, the bulk of them is older than its printed literature; and the number, we suspect, is very small which can be traced up to a definite authorship. But, at this moment, there are many which are work. ing their way into general currency; and after they have been somewhat shortened or new-shapen, we shall find among our everyday axioms "The evil that men do, lives after them; "The rank is but the guinea stamp, A man's a man for a' that" as well as Gray's "Full many a gem," and Pope's "Ruling passion strong in death," and Beattie's "Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb!" And we may add that, as we become more cultivated, and as a finer sense diffuses itself throughout the community, many a choice saying, now locked up in printed books, or only current amongst the well-informed, will pass into proverbial frequency; such as the remark of Coleridge, "To most men, experience is like the stern lights of a ship, which illumine only the track it has passed;" and many of those vivid sentences in which, like sparks from a thunderbolt, Napoleon flashed out his own intensity: "The heart may be torn to pieces, whilst the soul stands unshaken;" "It is the good cause, not the stake, which makes the martyr;" "Usually the truest wisdom is a resolute determination;" "On unity of action depends the success of means;" The man who least of all belongs to himself, is the man whom the events of Providence call to the government of nations;" "Every hour of time lost is a chance of misfortune for the future;" "There are calumnies by which innocence itself is confounded." 66 Occasionally the proverb carries something in gremio, which, so far, fixes its date. The Spanish proverb, "A great lance-thrust to a dead Moor," sends us back to the conflicts betwixt Christian and Saracen, and is evidently contemporary with, "The Jew ruins himself with passovers, the Moor with wedding feasts, and the Christian with lawsuits." Such sayings as "Big churches, little saints;" "God's friend, the priest's foe;" "Monks and mice seldom take leave without mischief;" "Touch a friar, and all cowls flutter as far as Rome;" and others, in which the German vocabulary abounds, would point to the dawn of the Refor. mation, when people were beginning to espy rents in the rochet and rust on the mitre. Eng. lish history has told us the origin of the adage which is read on the scroll of the Garter; and of more than one proverb, that great record of inventions and antiquities-the Bible-has preserved to us the age and the first occasion. "Is Saul also among the prophets ?" is, of course, older than the days of Solomon; and David quotes as already a time-honoured say. ing-" a proverb of the ancients,"-" Wickedness proceedeth from the wicked.” As far back as the age of Moses, it had become proverbial to compare a "mighty hunter" to Nimrod; and a proverb corresponding to "Man's extremity is God's opportunity," is immortalised in connection with Mount Moriah, and the crowning act of Abraham's faith (1 Sam. x. 12; xxiv. 13: Gen. xxii. 14; x. 9). Like primeval poems, the first proverbs would be abundantly simple. A certain trimness of terseness distinguished some saying, as in the case of the above-quoted, "Wickedness proceedeth from the wicked," and coming neatly through the lips and falling nicely on the ear, it grew into a favourite phrase, and was so oft reiterated, that at last it could not be forgotten. But as by and by men grew more ingenious or refined, mere neatness was not pleasing enough. The pillar required to be fluted, the rectangular plinth was exchanged for a florid capital, the single verse was replaced by an elaborate stanza, and the proverb suggested improvement. A humorist stuck a feather in its cap, or added a sting to its tail, by way of making it more arresting or more emphatic; or a poet turned it into metaphor, and fitted it with metre, so as to make it more convenient to the memory. "Know thyself," was the Heaven-descended simplicity of that oracle which faced the devotee as he approached the Delphic shrine; and it may be accepted as the fundamental precept of the old Greek ethics. But "Know thyself" grew trite; and from Æsop, with his fault-basket slung behind the back, visible to all save the owner, down to the Ayrshire bard Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us, To see oursel's as others see us!"moralists have striven to furbish up the old familiar maxim, and bring out its meaning anew. MИòèy ayav; "Ne quid nimis;" "Exceed in nothing," is an advice so good, that it is quite a controversy who first gave it. Diogenes Laertius claims it for Pythagoras, Aristotle assigns it to Bias, and something very like it can be detected in Homer and Hesiod, not to say Euripides. But plain undir ayar began to lose its force; so Alpheus turned it into a punning epigram, and said, "How exceedingly delighted he was with this caveat against exceeding "— Τὸ μηδὲν γὰρ ἄγαν, ἄγαν με τέρπει: And Horace needs must say 66 "Est modus in rebus: Virtus est medium vitioram utrumque redactum." And so on it went, till now every nation has its own way of saying, "Stop in time." Too keen an edge does not cut," say the French; "Too fine a point does not pierce." "Too many sacks are the death of the ass," cry the Germans; and, "Too much wax burns the church," re-echo the Portuguese. "Too many sailors sink the ship," shout the boatmen on the Nile; whilst the English captain translates it, "Too many cooks spoil the broth;" and the Scotch steward or stoker replies, "O'er mony greeves but hinder the wark." But by this time our Scotch readers are exclaiming, "O'er meikle water drooned the miller;" |