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Ir is said that Napoleon, during the eleven years of his reign, sacrificed 5,490,000 men to his ambition. Such is the cost of

one military hero.

THERE is iron enough in the blood of forty-two men to make a ploughshare weighing twenty-four pounds.

WILD DUCKS are estimated to fly ninety miles an hour; swallows fly rather faster, and the swift flies above two hundred miles an hour.

WHEN men and women have attained their complete developement they weigh almost exactly twenty times as much as at their birth, while the stature is about three and a quarter times greater,

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"FORTUNE," it is said, "knocks once, at least, at every man's door" but an author describes the knock often as a runaway one."

A GENTLEMAN is a human being combining a woman's tenderness with a man's courage.

RELIGION is the best armour that a man can have; but it is the worst cloak.

HOPE.

THERE is a spell whose mystic power
Resistless sways the human breast ;
A charm which in life's darkest hour,
Can soothe the suffering soul to rest.
There is a spark of heavenly light,
No earthly gloom can wholly quell,
A ray so softly, purely bright,

It can the heaviest clouds dispel.

That charm is Hope's and her's the ray,
That sparkles oe'r our dreary way,
And bids us live when all is gone
That we had fondly leant upon.

W. H. M.

THERE are three companions with whom a man should always keep on good terms, his wife, his stomach, and his conscience.

ONE lapse from duty may counterbalance the merits of a thousand services; one moment of weakness may mar the beauty of a whole life of virtue; how important then is it for a man, under all circumstances to be true, not merely to others but to himself.-Family Library, 11, 113.

THE untutored savage, in almost every part of the world, scorns to make a traffic of hospitality.-Family Library, 151.

CHILDHOOD'S WOES.

WHAT light and little things

Are childhood's woes! they break no sleep
Like dewdrops on the skylark's wings,
While slumbering on his grassy nest,
Gone in a moment when he springs

To meet the morn with open breast,
As o'er the eastern hills her banners glow,
And veiled in mist the valley sleeps below.
Montgomery.

IF human kindness meets return,
And owns the greatful tie;
If tender thoughts within us burn
To feel a friend is nigh.

Oh! shall not warmer accents tell
The gratitude we owe

To him who died, our fear to quell,
Our more than orphan's woe!

While yet his anguish'd soul survey'd
Those pangs he would not flee;
What love his latest words display'd
Meet and remember me!

Remember Thee! thy death thy shame,
Our sinful hearts to share!

O!

memory, leave no other name;

But his recorded there!

Noel.

HUMILITY.

HUMILITY! the sweetest, loveliest flower
That bloom'd in Paradise and the first that died,
Has rarely blossomed since on mortal soil.

It is so frail, so delicate a thing,

Tis gone if it but look upon itself;
And she who ventures to esteem it hers,
Proves by that single thought she has it not.

Caroline Fry.

HOME.

HOME!

There's magic in that little word;
It is a mystic circle, which surrounds
Comforts and virtues never known
Beyond the hallowed limit.

CHARMS.

CHARMS there may be, that waken admiration
When first beheld, that have no dwelling-place
On memory's tablet; while on it we trace
Features less perfect, and less marked at first;
But made indelible by softer grace;

Too unobtrusive all at once to burst
Upon the gazer's soul.

Barton.

FRIENDSHIP is more firmly secured by lenity towards failings than by attachment to excellencies. The former is valued as a kindness which cannot be claimed, the latter is considered as the payment of a debt due to merit.

EARLY DEATH.

Ir matters little at what hour of the day
The righteous fall asleep, death cannot come
To him untimely who is fit to die;

The less of this cold world, the more of Heaven,

The briefer life, the earlier immortality.

Milman.

Petition of the letter H. to the inhabitants of Herefordshire, Worcestershire, and Shropshire.

WHEREAS by you I have been driven,

From House, from Home, from Hope, from Heaven,
And placed by your most learned society

In Exile, Anguish and Anxiety,

And charged, without one just pretence,
With Arrogance and Insolence:

I hereby ask full restitution,
And beg you'll mend your Elocution.

F

THE MAGIC OF A NAME.

BEATS there a heart which does not bound,
With a trembling thrill, at the holy sound,
Of a name beloved-which does not swell,
As it drinks a note which it loves so well?

Though years may have pass'd since we last have heard,
From stranger lips the well-known word,

Yet, pronounced by chance, it awakens the ear,
And the soul delightedly turns to hear.

That word is breathed in a softer tone,
And possesses a music not its own;

And the letters which speak that name to the eye,
Appear to combine more gracefully!

When we utter their name, the absent are near,
The beloved themselves become more dear;
And the dead, at that heart-dwelling sound will be,
In more vivid and instant memory.

Oh! a name beloved becomes a part
Of the dearest object of every heart;
And until the heart itself shall decay,
That feeling will never pass away!

ON BEING CALLED "A SAINT."

A SAINT! oh! would that I could claim
The privileged, the honoured name,
And confidently take my stand,
Though lowest in the saintly band!

Would, though it were in scorn applied,
That term the test of truth could bide!
Like kingly salutations given

In mockery to the King of Heaven.

A Saint! and what imports the name,
Thus banded in derision's game ?
Holy and separate from sin;
To good, nay, e'en to God akin."

Is such the meaning of a name,

From which a Christian shrinks with shame ?
Yes, dazzled by the glorious sight,

He owns his crown is all too bright.

And ill might son of Adam dare,
Alone such honour's weight to bear;
But fearlessly he takes the load,
United to the Son of God.

A Saint! oh! scorner give some sign,
Some seal to prove the title mine,
And warmer thanks thou shalt command,
Than bringing kingdoms in thy hand.

How shall the name of Saint be prized,
Though now neglected and despised,
When truth shall witness to the Lord,

That none but "Saints shall judge the world."

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THERE is a thought can lift the soul

Above the narrow sphere that bounds it,—

A star that sheds its mild control

Brightest, when grief's dark cloud surrounds it; And pours a soft pervading ray,

Life's ills can never chase away.

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