1 -.__.__~..~_._.‘-._-_ ...._ . w, _ ._va-~'â€"â€"â€" THE MORNING LAND .OF LIFE. BY SARAH T. BOLTON._ 5 I‘ dwelt in a, bright land, far away-‘â€" A beautiful morning landâ€" ,Where the winds and wild birds sung all day, And the waves, repeating their rouudoley, .‘ Danced over the golden sand. I know the paths o’er its low, green hills, ‘1 The banks where its violets grow, The osier clumps by its laughing rills, w-And the odour its every flower distills, .9. Though I left it long ago. I-ltnewwhore the sibyl Summer weaves c,..,...The charm of her sweetest spells , ’ Where the soft south-wind and tho low-voiced ‘ leaves AURoRA’ flVVVW“ I "../‘\ f\.M ALEX. SCOTT, Proprietor. v ww-‘. Av« \_ v91. Hr. No. ,‘Bul even ifyou thongiit ’you “ditching a teaching plaiut like a sprite that. fuml'c unlou’"f V‘m . belleve" i’m’ grieves 1n the heart of a rose-iipped shell. Al’know the cliff where the lichen clings, And the crimson berries grow ; VVhero the mists are woven in rainbow rings. And the cascade leaps with its snowy wings, To the shadowy pool below. ‘ But alas ! for me, its pleasant bowers, A And the radiant bloom they wore. '- The birds tn at sung, and the sunny showers ' "That kissed the lips of the fair young flowers Are never, never more ! "rt ,A‘hxno l the heart that has learned, for years. The love of sorL'ow and pain : _ I The eyes bedimmod by time and tears, _ _The lips grown pole with unspoken fears, Can never return again. Yothden home of the Eden time, When my lonely heart rebels, Thy voice come, through the rust and rime ' U! the weary world like the soothing chime 0f distant Sabbath bells. when my path in the future seems ’ \Vith clouds and darkness rife, ll wander away, iii my waking dreams, Tit the dewy bowers and sunny streams, Sweet Morning Land of Life. ‘illili‘iuliirr. 5..-- __.___..__-.- _c _-___.,., H. HENRY STUART ;' all our cherished wishes Would prove forever nothing, yet without harm you could say‘l love you.’ True love neither bolts. nor bars, nor thirty-hearted fathers can coerce. ’Tis as free as the restless winds of the ocean, and 'as boundless; and will dare iill'thiugs to bless the ob- ject of its adoriitioi'i. You can bbey your fullier‘.'und yet he. shbuid not suck to "enslave your thoughts, or bid your tongue notispcak its wislics.’ Atthis moment the tread ofhcavy feet were hoard without, and the lovers immediately sprungr from their too loving proximity, and placed a wider distance between them. ‘ Say no more at present, Davie ’ 9 urged the young girl, with her ï¬nger Upon licriip. ‘Soiiie one is «mining. \‘Vc shall meet again soon, and lilcll, may be,l’li,answm‘ aliyou usk.’ The door Opened, and unannounc- cd, Lord iIcnry Dal iilcy and Donald McDougal, whom we left at tho doo.‘. critcrcd. » ‘ Ali! is it you, sir?’ coldly spoke Mary, as she saw McDougullâ€"-foi', to say the truth, she did not like liiiiiâ€"-â€"-chcr bud likcd lilftl-‘alld shc long lllltl feared that both him and her l'.tiici' wcrc concemcd in that which \vris evil. . x/\.-V\..w ‘VVWV \mv V‘ .nchr Would give, me hopes, cf ourl l " “5‘-..w;râ€' M AND RICHOND HILL ADVOCATE AND ADVERTISER. “ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us than. Popular Opinion.†More conversation followed; and Dairirlcy, merry. jovial, heart, pleased all by his witty style iof speech, and led them to forget 'that he was, judging from his pre sent tout ensemble, but _ a poor for- mer's son, or wan leiing ploughboy. ‘ It would please me infinitely could I but really know who you are f spoke Mary in reply to some laughable speech of the king, who, as well as the two others, did ample justice to the bottle at hand. ‘i cannot but think you are other than you seem, and should not wonder if you were, CVen disguisc.’ now, in I lt‘would scarcely be a subject for deep surmise if l were, if you knew all,’ was the king’s answer, as he replen- ished lzis empty goblct. ‘l’crhaps not! hot can you not really tell me who you are l’ Diirnicy’s reply was that which had been ovcriicnrd by Elliott and McAlpine, and already recorded at the conclusion of the previous chap: for. An instant after, the two last mentioned cntcrcd. CHAPTER VLâ€"TIIE DISGUISED KING. Both McAlpinc and the landlord stir-rtrd back some steps, wlicn,upon cnlcring, they perceived him whose coming they had so long been awaiting ; and scarcely noticing Darnlcy, whose appearance showed nothing to excite particular attenâ€" tion, further than scores of others itiCiiï¬owD HILL, ' Elm light of ‘ ch, Mitry.’ was the answer of , THE KING AND THE PUBLIS. Mollouguli; ‘and l liavc brought with inc a friend to enjoy a socrui who everyday visited the inn, the latter abruptly ejaculated,~â€"- V/sOns ', notrlovc me i BY GEOR HE A BANCROFT. V.â€"-'I‘Hh‘. LOVERS. â€"'I‘III‘2 lN’I‘ERRIIPl‘lON. CHAPTER ‘Vhiie the king and Dor'iull were “approaching the inn, after their n I, , .hosmc encounter, two young Per- ‘thll, lur‘llicr‘, ii: has great iiifluuncc Pleasuuuy cunvcrsmg \3lill the highest lords and curls of with,†me Precimus of the impruom. .St'oilutitl. rind cvcn is on spoofing Om, of them wus u "Dung Smut, tcrnis \\'llil the king and quccn. \VUI‘O :ttametl Davie Lyic, of poor and humble parents, re:iding in Davie was about cightccn ...probably two years his junior. it -would have truly surmised that they duious,7 and easier deceived than ,__¢xpcricnced a more mun judjï¬â€˜umm othcrs, pcrsrstcd the maiden. . friendship for one anotherâ€"tho more , ..cspecially could they have been seen ."Cl Will do llle .‘Ol‘mé’ ml“: wrong: ‘ in their present positionâ€"the arm of Silld llt‘fvtlugall- HUI allow m0 ‘0 Davie lovingly encircling the sicri ' ‘ ' I s V s. ‘ . , " der waist of the damsel, while her slledl‘ l'†name- hand was trustingly resting upon his shoulder. .1 know, dear Mary, that you do in an easy and graceful style, ail-l -. not regard me with uvul-siun†baiu vanccd a stop or two, and took the ’the yam... Scot, us he looked up soft, white hilth hold out to him. D smilingiy and lovingly into the fun. . r . . ‘.. . . 1 - ’ in 0 "titres of the blooming Mary,’ and I once again, fair Mary, he said , “ï¬nk vou love mc_luve me even as ‘and i am happy to, make your ac- " We have met quaintuncc to-uight. "Well as Ido you. Often, and I have ever found you the ','same, and have more titan once had _ ’ reason to believe you cared for mu night as the queen, answered Dam- gfl’lieu wiry is it, Merry, that you can, icy. . I , Why will you leave recognize me in tlic garb! he added, ’ I ‘ I I I. ' ' ', l ‘ r I . .the words unspokein they are upon ll()ll(.lllg that Mary t cy es .cstLd your tongue I ‘Bccause, Dame-,1 am not yet :my own mistress,†pleasantly, and you all'i’lCilCCl to thc rcteuue of the .with a look of the kindest regard, queen- v answered the young maiden. I know my father does not like you, ently than now. ‘ You Although he occasionally hires you ' here at the inn; and} have midsmu joined the discourse, which soon be- .-he has forbidden me speaking again lxvith you. Perhaps I am dorng wrong in not obeying him. At all Levents, I will not answer now,or say let do not ' that lwillbe your wife. think I’d hate, or give you paiir.â€"â€" ~'Â¥_ou should guess my secret from 1:13; presence here. .to promise or say aught until hope looks brighter for us both, and we may be happy in sometimes “i‘h‘CCtingJ " And shall we meet 2’ ‘I trust so.’ ' Often 'l’ ‘1 cannot tell. Certainly not do- “;i‘gnedly, for I would not anger my father while he has a right to re- quire obedience. ‘I think you love me, Mury.’ ‘Think it. W'iiat do my actions say?’ ‘ That you doâ€"â€"that is if my judgment docs not err.’ ‘ Very well.’ -‘ But if you feel at liberty to meet meâ€"if there is joy in your seeing grid conversing with me-â€"â€"if you greet me always kindly, and allow , me such a reception as the present, “'why, dearest, can you not simply "tell. me that you love mo 1’ " ‘ ‘If you feel assured of it you i should rest content, nor ask rue, after what I’ve said, to tell it.’ the as she curn stiy regarded Dui‘tiic’v ,I,iieiglrborhood; and the abort-m; and ulnar-mg her words as though Mary Elliott, the fair and rosy- _ _» checked young daughter of the lllll- Selimâ€- ,keepcr. ’ . . I. ’ years of age, and the maiden was thing iii my inc, was the answer. Do not ask me- ‘ You hcre, Mchugall ’l’ bottlc. ills garb is poor, ’tis true, . . ‘ Yes, as you can see.’ but he IS a youth of moral worth for , Haw ,(mg since ‘0†came back? all that, and has learning of a high ' , asked McAipiiic, suspecting nothing Ollie“ , _ wrong. ‘ Th1†'5 (’el‘l‘a'llly “lore ’h’m. you ‘ l’kobabiy not quite an hour l’ can sriy of yourscll,’ i'clurncd M airy. . jndecd ! so gong rp exclaimed EL ‘ PL'l‘lli’tlls 5"†“ms “’3 fulï¬l" liolt. ‘ How comes it that you . came not directly to us, as you car- tiiinly knew We were waiting for you l’ ‘I did know you were waiting, but still i chose not to come,’ re- turned Mt:Dougail, ï¬rmly. ‘ Indeed l’ spoke McAipinc ; ‘ what is amiss ?’ ' Nothing that l know of. I found agreeable company on the road, and sol ncglcctcd dorng your little or" :rand. This isrtlic gentleman that I met l’â€"â€"â€"M(:Dougali intimated lhc kingu‘and, stranger though he is to me, he has led me to think better of the job I was to do, and has per- suaded me not to do it.’ ‘ What! have you betrayed us l’ said the pubiican. ‘ Yes.’ ‘ To this slrangorl’ ‘ Even so l' ‘, ‘ Where is Ainslce 'l’ ‘Safc at home by this time, for alight] know.’ ' And knows not aught of this matter 7’ ‘ Nothing! I have not seen him 1’ ‘ But what knows this man here l' asked McAipine, looking at Diirnitiy, who stood near Mary and Davie. ‘ Evcrvtiiing.’ ‘ And have you thus dared to thwart and betray us i’ he further questioned. ‘He tias l’ said Darnlcy,in a loud, ï¬rm voice, speaking for the first time. ‘ And he repents that he has ever yielded to the temptation of two such Villains as you are.’ ‘ Hal' ejaculated McAlpine turn- ing pale. ‘Daro you thus insult us. and in ‘Do you believe it?’ asked Mary, 0 so she doubth the truth UftSUCll an as- ‘I never was more sure of any- ‘ Then perhaps you are more cre. ‘ You are ill liberty to doubt, and introduce himâ€"although I cannot The young girl. in an appropriate manner, responded. and Duriiicy, 'It gives me pleasure. to see you ‘ Have you seen me before 'l' ‘ Yes, I was here upon the some ‘ But you cannot rccuiiccl or upon his present co. tume. ‘ No. I. cannot,’ said Mary. “New 'I was, and was attired far differ- ‘ Duvic Lyle, a moment after, came earnest and animatod-â€"al- though unimportant to the thread of our narrative. Diirniey at length inquircd for the inn-kccper, and Mary frankly answered that ho Was in one of the private apartments busy will) the rich gentleman, McAlpiuc. ‘Not knowing their busiiicss,Mary suspected nothing of an evil nature going on bclwccn her father and McAipinc ; although she disliked, as well as many others, the haughty, arrogant manner and bearing of the latter. The king, in his own mind, readily gave her credit for being al- together in the dark as concerned iicr parent’s dark fl’lfaCllillllIiOllSM and finally called for wine for him- self and McDougnll. ‘ I-Icrc, young man.’ said Dariilcy to Dario Lyic,,as wise was brought forward by Mary, ' here, you must join me in a ï¬mving goblet, as well as the fair Mary and Dorrnld.’ ‘ With all my liczir't,’ returned Davie, who, with Mary, was well shouted the landlord. what you say, or we’ll have you laid on your back in a twinkling.’ ‘Don’t dare to touch him, Elliott, or you, Robert McAipinel’ ï¬ercely uttered McDougall, and with so bold a front that the former involun- tarily moved a pace backward. “Here is rank mutiny, indeed !’ the publican angrily replied, an in slant after, recovering his equani- mity. ‘And, ha!’ he continued, as his eye fell on his daughter and her lover, ‘ why are you here l" to‘ thought I told you, Davie Lyle, I come here no more to talk with Mary.’ , Davic’s countenance changed to a crimson hue, but ire essayed no re- ply, for the eyes of his lady-love were upon him, their silent speech desiring him not to respond. ‘Leave the inn without delay! and be careful. that you come not back again !’ tnc landlord went on, pleased with the fair exterior and addressing Davie. ‘Aiid you, Mary pleasing address of the stranger. go to your room.’ ’ And thereupon both Davie and “i Mary at once moved away, and Donald pledged the king in full left the room by 8 door which led to bumpers oi the juice of tlic grape.)a rear apartmenL; while Davie Mary, however. refusrng to be cn-lmade his exit by the same door the king- ticcd by the inviting appearance of, others had recently entered. the red, red wine. ’ Elliott commenced in a ï¬erce and angry tone of voice, ‘whal is the meaning of all this? I would hear at once why you have returned So changed from what you was when you went away l’ ‘Listen, and I will tell you,’ be- gan Darnlcy. ‘It wilibe time for you to speak when you are questioned,’ put‘in. McAlpine, resolving to be bold in speech, as he saw his companion had no intention of ,miucing matters. ‘ But"! will speak, and now !’ sail Duriiicv, indignation lighting up his dark-blue eyes, as they flashed upon the viiianous publican; ‘and both you and your miscreant abctlor shrill listen to me! You sent McDoiigail to do a murder in the dork-40 strike to the heart, with a deadly weapon, a follow creature! You sent himâ€"look advantage of his poâ€" verty, of his degraded condition, and sent hiu‘iâ€"liircd him, because you were afraid to do the deed yourself. it is not his fault that he returned not to you with the curse of the ï¬rst born on his brow. He met me in the wot:dâ€"â€"-mistook me for his victim -â€"-and raised his dagger to strike! i was too quick for him, seized it.nnd, in short, overcame him. i spared his life, and lie willingly has become my friend ; and, as such,iic nomorc will play the assussin’s part-’ For a moment Elliott and McAiâ€" pine stood, alternately regarding the stronger and McDougali. McAi- pine was the first to break the silence. ‘lf this be true, fate fights against us,’ he said. ‘But what do you in- tend to do with the knowledge which you now possess?’ " Nothing,’ said Diirnlcy. ‘ if you give up all thoughts for the future of harm to Edward Ainslie.’ ‘ And othcrwisc :’ ‘I will denounce you to the king, and one of his ofï¬cers shall be sent to suck you out, and place you both in duruncc.’ ‘ You prate with a ready tongue for a peasant boy,’ said Elliott.’ ‘ Your language is above your slaw tion, or, at least, beyond your garb.’ ‘Porhaps so,’ was the return ; ‘but the words I utter are not idle ones l’ "They would be if we dctaincd you here, and thrust you into a convenient durigcou,’ spoke McAl- pine, Willi a malignant scowi upon his ugly features. ‘You dare not attempt such a thing,’ said Darnley. ‘ Donald and lrnyscif would be more than a match for tWO such cowardly misci'cants.’ I ‘Be not too sure,’ said Elliott; j‘you may ï¬nd yourselfin durancc, 'and McDougall also, ere you get a chance to quit the inn; especially if your tongues wag not more civilly.’ . ‘ You talk boldly because you be- lieve we are alone and friendicSS,’ said Darniev ; ‘ but, with justice on four side, as now it is, lam sure we [can prove more than a match for [you unless you call in aid! Should you do so, a minute would sufï¬ce- to bring in friends ready and eager to assist us.’ 'VViio are you that you speak thus boustingly, as though you thought you could frighten us like children 'i’ questioned the pubiican. ‘It matters not her need we pur- icy longcr,’ answered the king. " Promise not to molest young Ains- ,iie in the fulure,and what has passed and is known ofyou in connection thls place, beardjcss buyas you are? with him, Shdtfl‘ nevc’r be spoken to c Be careful injure er! 161‘ 0 you, ‘ Suppose we will not promise aughtl’ "I‘hen you may surmise what may be the consequence of your obsti- nacy. We are as free as air, you may be certain, to leave the inn, and soon shall depart. Consider, I therefore, what is best for your own welfare.’ 1 . ' What say yeti 1’ after a moment spoke McAipine to Elliott, glancing knowingly at him. ‘ Shall We give up all hostile thoughts 0fAinsliu,nnd even let him go l For my part, I care not. We have had nought but. iii-luck since We Worked against him. Let us forget him, and our causes for hostility.’ . "I am willing,’ said the publican. ‘I it we other work in View, and so have you; and he already has too much interfered with our more im- portant schemes! And yet I would not brook the insolcncc of this hot- hcaded youth but to spare a. dis- turbance hero in the inn.’ ‘ Nor I,’ said McAlpine, casting a look of withering hate in the’ direct; tion of McDougall and the disguised Awhile longer the four remained .Aud now, Donald McDougap’: conversrng, sometimes passronatcly, ,.,t . . ., I ,t :"-,v ». 31:1,.rrn‘?‘mï¬ï¬‚fnj‘-"~uit-}1‘Cf, a ' , . a . w. AM MW WV‘y/LVM/‘fs/V’ wmxx I x, DAY, FEB-ironies so, _fl___~ .. 3 -rr Vex/wx/x/‘A/ m/VV‘A/‘V‘J v*\/WW\/\./ ‘TERMS: $1 50 In Advance. 2861. . .Wholc No. 11?. _.J- __.._-â€" WHAT WE EAT.-â€"-Argi1mcut and ridicule seem equally powerless" to effect any radical chungein the lily-v bits of eating which prevail in this country. Some physiologists are talking of climate as affecting our natiorai 1 health, and expressing doubts, of the perpetuity of. the Anglo Saxon race on this continent; but constitutions that can withstand our diet, are proof against any .cliiâ€" mate. Mr. Higgii‘rson, who is a. NNNAAAAAAAW's/v zealous apostle in the matter of phy' sical health, says ;-â€"“ Contrast the difference of living in the Canadian citiesâ€"Montreal,- for cx:rmpic--~ , where there are tch sets of hotels-,1. English and-American. In the our ' quiet tongues again. At length Diii‘t‘ilcy and Donald departedâ€"it Fiotn the Atlantic Monthly. thrcatcningiyâ€"and then in low and DR.’ HOLMES ON WOMEN. oeiug considered hazardous by both Beware or "‘6 woman Who calm“ of them to tarry all night at the inn. Ilil’d’f’fw “Trialâ€? for all her StQImY Suitable lodgings for the nig!rt,;ll“l,€" ’lfe: ellhe" "1 Words or song! however, \Vcl‘c soon obtained twig“ long as a woman can talk, {here Donald, and, at an early hour, both I ‘5 “Olhmg 5’“? Bannohllellr- _ ll She ruumu 1,, rest. ' cannot have a companion lo‘listen to ~ you understand me reason of her woes, and has" no mt‘isicai'utter- 'mv VlUltlllllI’lO the wishes of thc’im‘ms Vocal Olllll’ll'l’lnelllalv “’61P; yiiuu'g peasant i†inuuu-jugjy spoke ifslie- is of the real womun sort. and McAlpiiic to l‘llliott, after the dcpar- has a few llcarlfu" Of Wild blOOd 1“ lure Of Dui‘iiley and McDougall. herv and you have dfme he" a} wrong ‘ Excutiumh- weâ€~ uuj vuu did -â€"douole bolt the door which she right,’ was the publicnn's response. mf‘." .Cmer 0“ “Olsleless SUPPer ill ‘lf'lc could have made trouble, had 'mdl’lglni l00k “Vine below 3'00 we not pro niscd and assured him lame 0’ any CUP Whose draught llle that. Ainslie, i‘icr‘caflcr, was safe.’ Shadow 0’ her hand ma." have ' But What Silllli we now do?’ darkened! ‘ Contrive some otlicr plan t0 3Ԡlet ller talk, and, above and“ consummate our reverigc,’ suid El- he". Cry, 01' if She is One Of the “0m C There are mums. “Grew coarser-grained tribe give her the bouts, tli:it we may hire, and such as "U" Ola“ the red ’lOl explellvcs l" {he will not have the scrupics of Donald language» and ’8‘ he" him“ he" "P5 MCDuugqu with them until she is tired. she will ‘ Very true, and it will not take us Sleep "k9 a lamb after lb and you long to ï¬nd one,’ returned McAl- “’le lake? 9‘â€) Pl COH’CC froâ€) lie" pine. s But how are we to elujc Without stirring it up to look for its the vigilance which McDougiill and sed'lmclll' , the stranger may exercise?’ S", ll 3’“? can smgv 0" Play on any . we must ï¬nd some means to do musrcal instrument, all her tricked- sczfor Edward Ainslie must be put uess will run off through her throat out of the way, or also we may bid or the tips of her ï¬ngers. How farewell to all our hopes and wishes.’ many, "aged'es ï¬nd lllell' I’Caccru’ ‘i say amen to that as eagerly as catastrophe in fierce rouiades and yourself. But ifharm comes to the Slrelluol’S bravuras- HOW many youth, will we mu be sure“, be murders are executed in double- . ' ,t. ' r . ' t . suspected, and perhaps licid ac~ qu’L“.llrâ€e.,uP°“ the l‘C‘rs Wll‘d’ Stall countable? Will not those two men “’3 3†W‘l†the dagger Slmkes 0’ give us some trouble, and probably reveal everything they know of us? ‘ lva may be sure they would do so; and, further, might succeed in placing us in durnnce,’ Said the pub- lican. ‘Thereforc, to be brief, we have a difï¬cult game to play, and will be obliged to be cautious in our movements. whatever we may rc- solve upon.’ ‘ The more cspccially,’ McAlpinc responded, ‘ as the time draws near for the consummation of our otiicr designs, which should receive no drawback by our, being involved in other troublc.’ "Frill: snough,’ spoke Elliottâ€"- lsound. \tht would our civilization be without the piano? Are not Erard and Broadwood, and Chicken ing the true humanizers ofour time? Therefore do] like to hear the all pervading tumâ€"tum jarring the walls of little purlours in the bousos with double-door plates on their portals, looking out on streets and courts which to know is to, be unknown, and where to exist is not to live, ac- cording to any true deï¬nition of liv- ing. Therefore complain I not of modern degeneracy when, even from the open window of the small unloveiy farm li0h$e,tenanted by the hardâ€"handed man of bovine flavours ‘ I‘o~morrow night, for liie'lvst time, an" “’0 ’lal Palleml’d woma“ 0f the conspirators meet at their usual rendezvous ; and the next night but two following, if uligocs well, and there are no lurking traitors like this McDougali amongst usâ€"this upstart king, th 5 Henry ofDuriiicy, shall no longer bar the path of Bolhwcii to the throne of Mary Stuart'.’ ‘Spcuk low, for the very walls may have listening cars,’ sold Mc- Alpinc. ‘One word carelessly spoken in connection with this ino- mcntous business, and before the time is fully ripe, may cause a score or two of hardy Scots to lose their bonnctsâ€"wand their heads in them.’ ‘ Even so,’ said the landlord.â€" ‘ Let us drop the subject altogether now. To-morrow we will concert some scheme regarding Margaret Drummond and her lover, Ainslie. And to-morrow night, at the mid- night hour, we will go together to meet the friends of Lord Bothwell and the sworn fees of Duriiiey. A few more unimportant scu- tcnccs, and the two separated for the nightâ€"4hr: landlord to summon his daughter to question her regarding Davie Lyle, and to inform her of a new and wealthy suitor, who de- sired her hand in marriageâ€"and McAipinu to repair to his stately mansion, which he longed to see graced by tho lovely presence of Margaret Drummond. To be continued. THE DEATH on THE SUN.â€"â€"Muny theories have been propoundcd as to the source of solar light and heat; but whichever we adopt, it is none the less certain that his energy must be gradually,- but surely, dissipated; a fact, I believe, first eXpiiciliy stated by Tomson. If the whole mass bollot, the heat will gradually be radiated into space ; if it. is in- tense combustion in his atmosphere which produces his light and heat, the gaseous materials will some day be exhausted ; iftlie fall of motor- oric masses on his surface keeps it at a while heat. the supply ofthese must in time fail; and on any of these suppositious the sun, ceasing to give full "heat, light, and other natural forces, ceases to support vegetation and animal life on the globe ; and can finally produce, as far as we yet know, the steady rela- tion in their orbitsof the cold and desolate planets. This prospect, happily a very distant one, though hardly to be Contemplalod ' without. also healthy summer follows a good ‘ old fashioned’ 'winler, and we believe the rule is based on well-attested ertpericncc. ‘ fore, we think part to promote the’ happiness and broken~down countenance, iSSue‘ the some familiar sounds. For who knows that Almira, but for these keys, which throb away her wild impulses in harmless discards, would not have been flouting dead, in the brown slroam \vhiclr runs through the meadows by her father’s door, or» living, with that other current which runs beneath the gasligirt over the slimy-pavements, choking with wretched :weCds that were once in spotless flower? 'riin WINTER AND THE CROPS. It is conceded among Agricultur: ists that tiic’charactor of the wrntcr has much to do with the crops.-â€"-â€"- Certain it is, that 'an' open Winter with frequent changes from Warm to cold weather, sunshine and sleet alternately with each other, is fol- lowed by a short crop if not an en- tire faiiur‘e. _ The present winter time far has given promise ofanothcr abundant harvest. From the com- mencement, the ï¬elds have been promote i, by the snow, and should it. remain a few weeks longer, old Winter will certainly have done his share to ï¬ll t0 ovcr’lowing the gra- nerics cf the husbandman. Not only does the snow protect-the roots oftlie winter crops, but the ammonia which it brings down from the at- mosphere and transmits to the soil is, a most important fertiliser, and helps to stimulate and protect the coming crop- It may be that many other elements lic hid in the thick mantle of snow which make our fieldsfru'ilfui and help to bless the land. with abundance. Good sleighing also enables far- mers to market ' their crops and to provide fencing, fuel and other sup- plies†for the ensuing season. Thus far: we have not had any re- ports in regard tothe effects of the cold upon the fruit ;’ but if we mis- take not, the temperature has not been low enough to cause any fears among orchardists. also shields the rootsof the trees, and is otherwise an advantage to the orchard and the nursery. It is generally understood that a In every respect there- VV'inter is doing his shudder, appears to be inevitable-mlprosperity of the “rest-«Chicago Professor Tull. Tribune. 9* As the snow protects the Winter Cereals, so it i l i you find English customs-hobo!»- dance of Water, towels of the di-‘ merisions of tire mainsail of a mint-- of-war, admirable beef and bread which are eaten moderately ; in'tiie other you ï¬nd pint pitchers of writer, pockct-handkcrcliieftowels, and‘yow breakfast on bad cofl'ce, fricd rhino- ceros, flap-jacks, and flap-dish "pics. Here is one example of American disease, without climate. Somebody has saidâ€"J Tell me the food of a nation,and I". will tell you its. chur- actcr.’ In the Canadian schoblis’you can at once distinguish the Ameri’-â€" can from the English children; than school mistress will toll you that the former are smarter than the other, but they stay at home cht‘y utlrcr day bccaose they are sick. You know that an average American child curries to school for dinner 'or luncheon a piece of mince pie, very white and indigestiblc at the top, very moist and indigestiblc at the bottom, and with untold horrors in the middle, a pound cake, two dough- nuts, a piece ofchecse, a pickle, and a cold sausage. , Tqu of Pandora's box l the modern Pandora’s box is an affectiOnatc 'niotlicr’s luncheon basket, and it does not have [repeat the bottom. But what does 'the English (-biid carry to sclroOl for dinner? Bread and meat, or bread and butter, or broad and uppies-â€"- nothing more ; and the bread is English bread, not such as is seen in these regions,whare housekeepers signify ° Money dowu,’ lay in their supplies for a year, a pound of salcratus to a pound of flour.†W BE Ckcsimun.â€"-â€"Thal’s it, friend, he Cheerful! Timely mirth is better than all the medicines ever compounded by Gulch. Don’t brood over misfortunes; ’lwrli do no good. Turn from the cloud and watch for the s‘llulight. ’Twill burst crc‘io'ng. and look iovclicr for the preceding durltncss. The basis on winch true cheerfuinoss is built is a fii‘m'rejli- mice on the Almighty ; a firm belief that His promises are sure. Is there something you covet and pray for? Why do you deny the wishes and prayers of your loved children 3â€"- Bocausc, to indulge them would’b'o to fatally injure them, mdraiiy or physically. So it is with What God withholds from us. VVheu one vrsienvanisbcs you may close your eyes and dream again; but when one i'caii‘y parishes, you must arise and toil for some good, some great good unaccomplished yet. Are there obstacles, rough barriers in the way, to impede your progress? Such barriers as forbid all thought of ever removing them? Then juSt commence with caution ; work carefully, and you will ï¬nd that you will be enabled, eventuallv, to walk over them. With a cheerful heart and a ï¬rm reliance in Him whojs our friend, the humblest,hardestldt in life may be made endurablc ; nay, more, pleaSaul ; and in the end much good attained. "(W W The following is an epitaph follnd in an Irish graveyard :â€"= “ I'Icre’ lies the body of John Mound, Lost at sea‘ and never found.†, . Still the above is not equal to the good Old Irish epitaph, we can remember ever so long ago, as no doubt, many of our readers“ will do as Wellâ€"[Elk S. A. J. “ Here I lies and my spirit at alas is, Willi the point of my nose, And the tips of my toes, ’ Turned up to the roots of the’daisss.†A SENSIBLE QbEsTrON.â€"-A Scot and an Irishman, threshing for a Dutch farmer in Fisliliiil, the former observed to‘ the lat- ter, who was fresh from the bugs or Kil‘-' larncy, that in the course of a long resid- ence in this country, he had remarked the uncommon docility of their horses; that among the many instancés of their tracts. bility, he had actually seen them employed? in threshing out wheat. ‘ Arralr, jewel,’ cried Pat, ‘ Mr. Murphy, I an: liaif-a-dozen years too ripe to belave that.†The Scot insisted that what he said was true. And Pat, staggered at lentrth‘ b o l I D .‘ his serious and repeated assertions, exâ€"‘ claimed in tones of wonder .‘-â€"‘ And how’ do they houid the flails ‘1’ Joint; nor A Touscco-CunW‘cmuA preacher" whose text led him to speak of the prophet†Jonah, remarked incidently. . - . “ I am of opintou Jonah was not on old msn,‘ neither smoking or chewing, from the fact that" the fish retained him so long in his storï¬ch.‘ If the ï¬sh had swallowed the house we are: worshipping in, he would no doubt, have pulledl himself to death.†Cameosâ€"D. E. B. T. are, the initial lettero’ of ‘ Done Every Body Twice.’ C. R; E. D. I. T.‘ are the initial letters of ‘Call Rogu’lsrly‘Every' Dayâ€"I’ll Trust.’ What means of conveyance by land.‘ and what by sea, are the ladies fondest of .‘â€"‘-’§ttuo‘d and smacks. some malicious person “Sorts that the letter! M.D.,which are placed after physicians’ names.