observation, as yet little guided by practical experience, the influences exercised by natural objects over his organs of sense and feeling cannot but be productive of deep enjoyment to him. As in the all-wise ordinations of Providence he is a creature possessed of a mental life that is subjected to, and derives impressions from the external or physical life, so ere the stern realities of the latter have clouded the serene happiness and buoyancy of the former, he clings with yearning fondness to things so beautiful to him, and ignorantly pictures to himself in his infant imagination a paradise unsullied by cares that must sooner or later dispel such dreams; thoughtless and peaceful is he, as the butterfly that breathes out its ephemeral existence in the warm bright sunshine of the summer months. It is only when man becomes convinced of the utter inanity of those things he has been in pursuit of, and hence discovers the invaluable aid of caution in directing him along the path he has marked out for himself, that the anxieties most important for our consideration begin to develop themselves. View him now in early life, when his former collision with the mutable character and events of the world has implanted a prepossession in his mind in favour of some particular pursuit. He looks through the vista of years before him, and arguing from the analogy existent between himself and other rational creatures, sees that he must attain to a certain position in society, in order that he may reap to himself not merely the respect, but also the applause and notice of his fellow-men. Let none say such a feeling does not oft predominate in youth. We are not now speaking of the sons of affluence, but of those, who, in order that they may attain the social importance they aim at, must encounter many and great struggles. View again such a one at a more mature period of life: actuated by an ambition inherent in the nature of man, he has fixed the goal of all his hopes at an eminence in society beyond his present condition. The trials, the partial fainting of heart that must sometimes oppress him in that arduous race are disregarded; the will alone asserts its omnipotence, and prevails. Now, flattered and caressed by friends, or pushed onward by partial successes, he grows exuberant with hope; anon, jostled by adversity or disappointment that has flung a temporary blight upon those hopes, he seems ready to fall into the depths of despair. Amid this stormy tossing to and fro, this alternate conspicuity and disappearance of the beacon round which his very heartstrings cling, with the cold, apathetic world around him, and, as he fancies, no resources of his own to act like balm upon those troubled waters; who, save those that have known such "carking care" can divine the nature of his feelings? At this point but too often he flings himself, a suicide upon the ocean of Eternity, or becomes the prey of misanthropic gloom. Yet have we now so sad a picture; for he that has right views of life, and of his duties as a heir of that world of light where "the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest," will never suffer the irritations of life so far to obtain mastery over his feelings as to overcome his trusting hope in the future. For such a one there is ever flowing a calm, peace-bestowing under-current of thought, and something points his grief-worn, toiling mind onward to scenes in his imagination so fair and glowing, that each unworthy thought lies palsied in an instant, and the soul, absorbed in the contemplation of eternal love, gathers strength for future struggles. But to other considerations on the subject of prospectiveness too great importance cannot be attached. In the eyes of those well skilled in the wiliness of worldly policy, the great master of a man's destiny is his present position in society, and the wish to rise beyond this, unless in one gifted with extraordinary abilities, would be called by such, a mere chimera of the imagination. Yet, in such a case, more is to be judged of from the inward organisation of the mind than may at first sight appear possible. If, after a few battlings with impeding circumstances, the mind, forlorn and disappointed, views with chagrin, almost amounting to hatred, the various obstacles to its wishes, it is much to be feared that a careless, soulless indifference will shackle its future progress. Such feelings argue at once that the subject of them walks merely by sight. But if, emboldened by a confidence drawn from the nature of his mission, man feels that the intellectual capacities with which he is gifted are sufficient to grapple with the difficulties into the midst of which be has been thrown, he has that that will support him through every contest. Man's ultimate success in life is commensurate with the resources God has given him. We are not now speaking of those whose minds are stored with the treasures of genius, but of those who with a moderate amount of talent, unexaggerated by vanity, and a due amount of discrimination, seek their proper level in the social scale. Such is the man who walks by faith, and on him the troubles that beset his path exercise only a chastening influence. They endow the crown of his eventful elevation with an added jewel; he will cherish it the more from a feeling akin to the one that animates a man who has regained his own dear fireside, after having been rescued from the fury of an ocean tempest. A few words in conclusion. We have seen that a man's powers of attaining his proper level in society lie within himself, to a certain extent. Let not the treasures of his deathless mind perish for lack of using. The dream of mere empty ambition, unsubstantiated by the possession of sufficient intellect and energy to grasp the desired object, is transient, and often, moreover, sinks into the opposite extreme, whilst experience, that test of so many earthly successes, speaks loudly now, as in former days, for the encouragement of those whose Prospectiveness is led on its way rejoicing by its two stalwart companions, Patience and Perseverance. We speak, therefore, to the intellectual warrior sacred words of encouragement and advice: “the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong," and in all thy ways acknowledge God, and He shall direct thy paths.' PEACE AT HOME. It is just as possible to keep a calm house, as a clean house, a cheerful house, an orderly house, as a furnished house, if the heads set themselves to do so. Where is the difficulty of consulting each other's weakness as well as each other's wants-each other's tempers, as each other's characters? Oh! it is by leaving the peace at home to chance, instead of pursuing it by a system, that so many houses are unhappy. It deserves notice, also, that almost any one can be courteous and patient in a neighbour's house. If anything go wrong, or be out of time, or is disagreeable there, it is made the best of, not the worst ; even efforts are made to excuse it, and to show it is not felt ; or, if felt, it is attributed to accident, not to design; and this is not only easy, but natural, in the house of a friend. We will not, therefore, believe that what is so natural in the house of another is impossible at home, but maintain, without fear, that all the courtesies of social life may be upheld in domestic societies. A husband, as willing to be pleased at home, and as anxious to please as in his neighbour's house, and a wife as intent on making things comfortable every day to her family, as on set days to her guests, could not fail to make their own home happy. Let us not evade the point of these remarks, by recurring to the maxim about allowances for temper. It is worse than folly to refer to our temper, unless we could prove that we ever gained anything good by giving way to it. Fits of humour punish us quite as much, if not more, than those they are vented upon: and it actually requires more effort, and inflicts more pain, to give them up, than would be requisite to avoid them, ORIGIN OF QUARRELS. The sweetest, the most clinging affection is often shaken by the slightest breath of unkindness, as the delicate rings and tendrils of the vine are agitated by the faintest air that blooms in summer. An unkind word from one beloved often draws blood from many a heart which would defy the battle-axe of hatred, or the keenest edge of vindictive satire. Nay, the shade, the gloom of the face familiar and dear awakens grief and pain. These, in the elegant words of the preacher Seed, are the little thorns which, though men of rougher form may make their way through them without feeling much, extremely incommode persons of a more refined turn in their journey through life, and make their travelling irksome and unpleasant. Oh, how careful ought we to be not to darken over and mutilate the sweet images of hope, and joy, and peace, that might gild the current of our own, and of our companion's life, by suffering these spots to mingle with them, these shadows of upas leaves to be reflected in the stream! Of all cruel words and deeds, the word or the deed that would darken hope is the most cruel. Upon old Latin models we see Hope delineated in the act of drawing back her garment, that her footsteps may not be impeded; and it is also worth remarking, that she is always drawn in the attitude of motion, she is always advancing. Sweet traveller! who would have the heart to stop thee, albeit, in this world thou wilt never find the garden to which thou art journeying! Go on, with thy flower in thy hand, and may the blessing of God go with thee!-Fraser's Magazine. FALSE HISTORY. The hero of the historian has been, too long, the fighting man; and, if a large portion of history might be believed, the great problems of society have all been solved by the sword. History, in the classical times, like the bard of the romantic times, was little more than the scarcely make the mistake, to-day, of ranking the hero of battle in the first class of heroes. Still, in the hour of contest for interests ill understood, and amid the artificial morality which all such contests engender, it is intelligible enough how the warlike conqueror should have so long imposed himself upon the world in gigantic dimensions. The wielding of great physical forces has the same effect upon the imagination, that the directing of great moral ones should have upon the reason; and the pictures of events are written on the imagination at once, as by a moral Daguerreotype,-while their truths are im pressed on the reason, through the slower process of analysis and induction. Imagination is a mirror that reflects merely the figures of events-and does so instantly; while reason is a scale that measures their qualities,-and, to make no mistake in the reckoning, must do it slowly. To the imagination, then, those who have had, or thought they had, an interest in war, have been careful to appeal-surrounding the latter by all such lights and colours as make the most showy impression on that faculty. It is the " pomp and circumstance of glorious war" that, in the eyes of men, have so long "made ambition virtue." The clamour of the trumpet and the roll of the drum have stifled, many and many a time, the "still, small voices" in the misgiving heart. Like the great gong which was kept sounding in the temple of the Mexican Dagon, while the human sacrifices were performing, the shout in the train of conquerors has been sedulously excited and fed, while widows and orphans were being made, and humanity was receiving those deep wounds, from which she could not recover in many a year of peace.-Athenæum. THE CYNIC. The Cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a He is the human man, and never fails to see a bad one. owl, vigilant in darkness, and blind to light, mousing for vermin and never seeing noble game. The Cynic puts all human actions into two classes-openly bad, and secretly bad. All virtue and generosity and disinterestedness are merely the appearance of good, but selfish at the bottom. He holds that no man does a good thing except for profit. The effect of his conversation upon your feelings is to chill and sear them; to send you away sore and morose. His criticism and inuendoes fall indiscriminately upon every loving thing, like frost upon flowers. If a man is said to be pure and chaste, he will answer: Yes, will reply: Yes, on Sundays. Mr. Bin the day time. If a woman is pronounced virtuous, he has joined the church: Certainly, the elections are coming on. tinn of the city, is rebuked by the less showy, but also minister of the gospel is called an example of diligence: less equivocal service of the goose of the Capitol; and It is his trade. Such a man is generous: Of other men's Alexander the Macedonian shares his historic immortality money. This man is obliging: To lull suspicion, and retainer of the worldly great. The virtue of the Roman was valour (virtus); and the march of the world's destinies was all represented by the march of the legions. It was impossible that history so written should not be, occasionally, an unconscious satirist of itself,-though the satire, recorded in "invisible ink" for that time, remained to be read in the light of an improved intelligence; and its page is, accordingly, full of morals of the kind, which are legible enough in our day. The great and attitudinal figure of Quintus Curtius, mounted on his war-horse, clad in glittering armour, and riding, full career, before assembled Rome, into a hole in the forum, for the salva with his horse, Bucephalus. And, by the this same cheat you. The That man is upright: Because he is green. Thus his eye strains out every good quality, and takes in only the bad. To him religion is hypocrisy; honesty, a preparation for fraud; virtue, only want of opportunity; and undeniable purity, asceticism. The live-long day he will coolly sit with sneering lip, uttering sharp speeches in the quickest manner, and in polished phrase, transfixing every character which is presented: His words are softer than oil, yet they are drawn swords.-H. W, Beecher, STEAMBOAT BUILDING IN THE UNITED STATES. The annual report of commerce and navigation gives the following aggregate of the number of steamboats built in the United States since 1824, twenty-five years, in periods of five years each:-From 1824 to 1829, 194; from 1829 to 1834, 304; from 1834 to 1839, 504; from 1839 to 1844, 522; from 1844 to 1849, 969; total, 2492. Two-thirds of these are built in the west, onesixth of them in Ohio. The largest number of steamers built at one place are built in Pittsburg and its neighbourhood.-New York Paper. And end in calm, serene repose, the swiftly passing day! 66 My Lord" would never condescend to honour my poor hearth; "His Grace" would scorn a host or friend of mere plebeian And yet the lords of human kind, whom man has deified, The poet sings his deathless songs, the sage his lore repeats, The patriot tells his country's wrongs, the chief his warlike feats: Though far away may be their clay, and gone their earthly pride, Each godlike mind in books enshrined still haunts my fireside. DIAMOND DUST. HUMAN heads are like hogsheads; the emptier they are, the louder report they give of themselves. CHASTISEMENT does not always immediately follow error, but sometimes comes when least expected. resolution, and, let the result be what it may, you will LAY your designs with wisdom, carry them on with have discharged your duty. WHOEVER wishes another harm will, if the opportunity offers, endeavour to bring him down. STEEP regions cannot be surmounted save by winding paths; on the plain, straight roads conduct from place to place. The earth puts forth the poetry of the season without Pumping after your THE art of poetry is to touch the passions, and its duty to lead them on the side of virtue. A WEAK mind is like a microscope, which magnifies trifling things, but cannot receive great ones. To be extolled for a quality, which a man knows himself to want, should give him no other happiness than to be mistaken for the owner of an estate, over which he chances to be travelling. As humility regulates the interior, so modesty disciplines the exterior. THE Soul finds its reflection in our behaviour, and we can read its inclination and disgust as legibly in our actions, as physicians the state of the body by the beating of the pulse. THE superficial often applaud vanity and weakness, when they fancy they are admiring and approving virtue. To scold servants at their work is not the best way to Oh! let me glance a moment through the coming crowd increase their diligence, or to get it well done. of years, Their triumphs or their failures, their sunshine or their How poor or great may be my fate, I care not what betide, Still let me hold the vision close, and closer to my sight; A mind at rest, a tranquil breast, a quiet fireside! STYLE. "To write well is at once to think well, to feel rightly, and to render properly: it is to have, at the same time, mind, soul, taste: style supposes the reunion and the exercise of all the intellectual faculties. The style is the man." Such are the last words of Buffon's Maxims. Southey speaks of the same subject in the following passage, from one of his familiar letters :-" A man with a clear head, a good heart, and an honest understanding, will always write well: it is owing either to a muddy head, an evil heart, or a sophisticated intellect that men write badly, and sin either against reason, or goodness, or sincerity. There may be secrets in painting, but there are none in style. When I have been asked the foolish question, what a young man should do who wishes to acquire a good style? my answer has been, that he should never think about it, but say what he has to say as perspicuously as he can, and as briefly as he can, and then the style will take care of itself." ALL may mend; and sympathies are healing; and reason hath its influence with the worst; and in those worst is ample hope, if only thou have charity and faith. VAGUE, injurious reports are no men's lies, but all men's carelessness. HAPPINESS-the moon for which the world is always crying. THERE is hardly any circumstance so bad that it may not be made worse by mismanagement. ALL men are better than their ebullitions of evil; but they are also worse than their outbursts of noble enthusiasm. THE present and the future are rivals; and, whoever pays court to the one must resign the other. WHEN we seem to blame ourselves, we mean only to extort praise. To decline all advice, unless the example of the giver confirms his precepts, would be about as sapient as if a traveller were to refuse to follow the directions of a fingerpost, unless it drew its one leg out of the ground, or, rather, hopped after its own finger. By reading we enjoy the dead, by conversation the living, and by contemplation ourselves. VULGARITY of manners may co-exist with a polished mind, and urbanity with a vulgar one; the union of both constitutes the gentleman, whatever may be the grade in which it is found. Printed by JoHN OWEN CLARKE, at 121, Fleet Street, London, and published by CHARLES Cook, at the Office of the Journal, 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street. THE GREAT EVENT OF THE YEAR The time shall come, when, free as sea or wind, And the new world launch forth to meet the old.-POPE. ALL the world looks forward with increasing interest to the approaching Grand Spectacle in Hyde Park-the World's Exhibition of 1851. Preparations are going forward in all directions, abroad and at home, with the view of enabling sight-seeing multitudes to visit London during the summer, and gaze on the accumulated wonders stored up in the Crystal Palace. London has before this been a centre of lively interest to millions, but never to the same extent as now. The annual "May Meetings" sink into insignificance before the world's May meeting of this year; and the visit of the Allied Sovereigns in 1814 will prove to have been paltry in comparison with the visit of the Allied Peoples in 1851. [PRICE 1d. men whom Britons have so often before met foot to foot on the field of battle, will now come as friends and allies. Poles and Russians, Austrians and Hungarians, Belgians and Hollanders, Swedes and Prussians, will be disposed to forget their feuds, and join together in friendly rivalry of skill. They will learn to respect one another; each will have something to impart, and something to acquire. The childish prejudices which keep nations asunder will be rubbed off, and some further progress be made towards the "grand federation of the world" prefigured by poets and seers. Englishmen will learn as much as their foreign visitors. They will learn to respect them more, as their competitors in the market of the world. Foreigners have made immense strides in all the industrial arts of late years; they have neglected no opportunity of extending education, knowledge, and productive skill-seeing in them the foundation of the true wealth of nations; and we must expect to see no small proportion of the prizes carried off by our foreign visitors. gines, and products of industry, with which the Crystal Palace is to be filled-all will testify to the power of victorious self-help in man, the world-worker. Forty years have passed since then, how full of indus- The Exhibition will afford a thousand striking intrial progress and scientific triumphs! Forty years ago, stances of the marvellous things that man can do, anivery few working men in the manufacturing districts mated by energetic purpose and labouring with unwearied could afford either the time or the money to pay a visit industry. From the snorting fire-horse that bears onto London; now, they are preparing to visit it in thou-ward the train of sight-seers to the machines, and ensands, we might almost say in millions, and they are economizing in clubs, savings-banks, and benefit societies, for the purpose. Forty years ago, it took several days to reach London from Lancashire and Yorkshire by the fast coaches; and the cost was three times what it is now. It is railways that have made the Exhibition of 1851 accessible to the industrious producers of even the remotest districts, and brought London within reach of every part of Britain. And not only the producers of Britain, but of nearly all Europe besides. Railways and steam-boats will bring streams of population from France, from Belgium, from Germany, from Denmark, from Sweden, and even from Russia itself. For mind can conquer.me and space, Bring over ocean, face to face, Earth's ocean sever'd strands; And, on the path of iron, hear Words that shall wither in despair In all the countries we have named, commissioners nave been appointed, and they will send articles for exhibition, and hosts of visitors to London, along the great highways of Europe. Belgium has even determined to send a number of her artisans at the public expense, for the purpose of visiting the exhibition and completing their education at the best industrial schools this country can furnish. We shall all be the better for this grand rivalry of nations, and friendly competition of peoples. French Look at that steam-engine and those piles of costly fabrics which it has produced! Who could ever have dreamt of such results, when Watt first gave his discovery to the world? Did Watt himself ever contemplate such a triumph as this Crystal Palace and its ten thousand specimens of skill and contrivance afford, in almost all of which steam-power has been the principal labourer? But for steam-power that magical structure could not have been reared. In cotton, and silk, and wool, and fabrics of all kinds, steam has been the chief worker, man the contriver and inventor. Not noblemen, nor titled men; but for the most part poor men, and toiling men; for to such does the world owe all its grandest discoveries. The architect of the steam-engine, James Watt, was a mathematical instrument maker; the contriver of the spinning machine, Richard Arkwright, was a barber; the inventor of the railway locomotive, George Stephenson, was a Newcastle pit-man; and the architect of the Crystal Palace itself, Joseph Paxton, was originally a poor gardener, who commenced his industrial life under the Duke of Devonshire, at the wage of twelve shillings a week. Laborious industry, earnest perseverance, diligent self-culture, enabled these men to do what they have done; to fight battles and overcome difficulties; bequeathing their great works and their noble examples as a legacy to their race. While such will be the interest of the Exhibition, and such the concourse of the people from our own country, rience an enormous access of trade, and the consumption and from all countries to visit it, the question occurs, of apples and oranges will be prodigious. Think only of Where are we to put them all? Where stow them? the ginger beer! Country cousins will take home silks Where lodge them? One calculator estimates the visitors and gingham, for wives and sweethearts; ladies will at seven millions-two millions foreign and colonial, and want London bonnets; and little children will be clamofive millions of English, Welsh, Scotch and Irish! There rous for toys. There needs no ghost, indeed, to predict is an army of invasion! What herds of cattle, what that the Londoners will in the coming season enjoy a granaries of corn, what oceans of beer, will be required "roaring trade." for their consumption! But think of the house-room wanted! As many foreigners alone in London, as there are inhabitants in all Scotland! And as many English, Scotch, and Irish, as are equal to about one-third the population of all England. It does certainly look formidable; still the accommodation is not impracticable. London itself is no small place; occupying as it does more than 50 square miles of surface. A city some twenty miles in circumference, containing 160,000 houses, will hear a considerable addition to its population. The 5,000 tavernkeepers, publicans, and victuallers, will doubtless do their utmost to accommodate these visitors; and large numbers of them have already greatly added to their accommodation in the prospect of an influx of customers. Then, lodgingkeepers will contrive an extension of their available room, and almost streets of houses have been taken with this view for the ensuing season. In anticipations also of the crowd, many private families are preparing to let their houses during a considerable part of the summer, and this will liberate a large portion of available space for visitors. Country cousins will find accommodation with their friends in town, and few are without such-London being in great part peopled either by country folks, or at least by those who have relatives and acquaintances out of town. But then again, numerous though the visitors may be, they will not all come in a day; they will be dispersed over a period of five months; and doubtless measures will be contrived between the commissioners and the railway companies, (who have the control of the stream of traffic in their hands,) to regulate the flow of population into London during that period. Under any circumstances, it may safely be affirmed that the streets and parks of London will be filled by a larger concourse of visitors in the approaching summer of 1851, than they have ever seen before; if indeed the world ever saw the like. Fancy the busy scene presented in Hyde Park, on a fine summer's afternoon during the period of the Exhibition. The gigantic Glass Palace, waving with its thousand streamers, its walls glittering in the sun; the green sward of the park thronged with people, and dotted all over with the snowy canvas of refreshment booths; the concourse extending westward over the delicious cool turf towards Kensington, and there wandering away among the green recesses of its wooded avenues; in all parts of Hyde Park, a countless throng of carriages and equipages, of promenaders and horsemen, of barbed foreigners and country work-people, of stylish aristocracy and humbler city folks. As for the threatened "plague," we will not think of it, believing it to be moonshine. THE HEIRESS. A TALE. "OH, Papa, I have had such a delightful day!" said "First, we went over the conservatory and flowergarden; then, Horace Cavendish rowed us on the lake, till dinner time; and, after dinner, Mrs. Cavendish showed me the house. I saw a great many children, but did not admire them, for they were all quarrelling when we entered their study. The boat excursion was the most pleasant part of the day." "Who were of the party?" "All of us: that is to say,-Mrs. Cavendish, Horace, Emma and I, with four of the children. A young lady, named Miss Sutton, was obliged to walk back alone; for all the children insisted upon going, and there was no room in the boat for her. I do not think Mrs. Cavendish wanted her to join us: I was sorry, for her conversation was very interesting: but it did not signify, for she was only a governess, and had come, I suppose, to mind the children during the walk.” "What do you mean, Rosa, by only a governess? 'Why, papa, I mean, she was not an independent lady, or a relation; indeed, I scarcely know what I meant, unless," added Rosa laughing, and kissing her father playfully, "that she was only a governess.” "But I wish you to think, and tell me. Do you mean, it did not signify because she was not rich?" "Oh, no! papa." "Because she was not sensible? I suppose not; for you say her conversation was interesting.' 23 "No, papa; I did not mean that." "Because you supposed that, after taking care of the children, whom you describe as having been so troublesome, during the whole morning, she did not require any recreation?" Certainly not, papa; I think I meant, because she must be accustomed to such disappointments: but that would have been very unfeeling; I could not have meant that." And then, such thronged streets-omnibuses covered with living loads, cabs driving hither and thither; pavements thronged more busily than London has ever been in its busiest season. Miles around the place of Exhibition will be full of bustle from morn till night. All public galleries and museums full-Westminster "No, my dear; you could only have meant, that it Abbey, St. Paul's, and the Tower, swarming like bee- did not signify, because she was not in a position to hives, the river-boats crowded, down to Greenwich, and resent the insult of being sent away, to walk home up to Richmond; the railways bearing their loads of pas-alone, when a child wished to occupy her place in the sengers in all directions. Such a ferment, and bustle, and boat.' gaiety, and sight-seeing, and endless round of life, as is almost bewildering to think of, far more will it be to look upon. And then the rich harvest there will be for the denizens of London! Everybody who comes will spend. The world and his wife must have food at least, and there will be no end of beef. Even the costermongers will expe Rosa was silent a few minutes; then going towards the door, she said "After all, papa, I do have done anything else. have walked home alone. the same thing." "Stop one moment, not think Mrs. Cavendish could |