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The dyer, who by dyeing lives, a dire life maintains;

The glazier, it is known, receives—his profits for his panes.
By gardeners thyme is tied, 'tis true, when spring is in its prime,
But time and tide won't wait for you, if you are tied for time.

Then now you see, my little dears, the way to make a pun;
A trick which you, through coming years, should sedulously shun.
The fault admits of no defence; for wheresoe'er 'tis found,
You sacrifice the sound for sense-the sense is never sound.

So let your words, and actions too, one single meaning prove,
And, just in all you say and do, you'll gain esteem and love;
In mirth and play no harm you'll know, when duty's task is done;
But parents ne'er should let you go unpunish'd for a pun.

Theodore Hook.

MORAL COURAGE.

AT the desk of the treasurer of the old Bath theatre, presented herself the little Barbara S-—.

The parents of Barbara had been in good circumstances. The father had practised, I believe, as an apothecary in the town. But his practice, from various causes, was now reduced to nothing. They were, in fact, in the very teeth of starvation, when the manager, who knew and respected them in better days, took the little Barbara into his company.

Her slender earnings were the sole support of the family, including two younger sisters.

Her Saturday's pittance was the only chance of a Sunday's meal of meat.

One thing I will only mention, that in some child's part, where in her theatrical character she was to sup off a roast fowl, some comic actor, in the misguided humor of his part, threw over the dish such a quantity of salt, that when Barbara crammed a portion of it into her mouth, she was obliged sputteringly to reject it; and what with shame of her ill-acted part, and pain of real appetite at missing such a dainty, her little heart sobbed almost to breaking. At length a flood of tears, which the well-fed spectators were totally unable to understand, mercifully relieved

her. This was the little, starved, meritorious, maid who stood before old Ravenscroft, the treasurer, for her Saturday's payment. Ravenscroft was a man-I have heard many besides herself say-of all men least fitted for a treasurer. He had no head for accounts, paid away at random, kept scarce any books, and summing up at the week's end, if he found himself a pound or so short, blest himself that it was no worse.

Now, Barbara's weekly fee was a half-guinea. By mistake, he popped into her hand—a whole one.

Barbara tripped away.

She was entirely unconscious at first of the mistake; but when she had got down to the first landing-place, she became sensible of an unusual weight of metal pressing her little hand.

Now, mark the struggle!

This little maid was by nature a good child. She had no instinct to evil, but then she might be said to have no fixed principle. She had heard honesty praised, but never dreamt of its application to herself. She thought of it as something which concerned grown-up people-men and women. She had never known temptation, or thought of preparing herself against it.

Her first impulse was to go back to the old treasurer, and explain to him his blunder. He was already so confused with age, that she would have had some difficulty in making him understand it.

She saw that in an instant. And then it was such a bit of money! And then the image of a larger allowance of butcher's meat on their table next day came across her, till her little eyes glistened, and her mouth moistened. But then Mr. Ravenscroft had always been so good-natured, had stood her friend behind the scenes, and even recommended her promotion to some of her little parts. But again, the old man was reputed to be worth a world of money. He was supposed to have fifty pounds a year clear of the theatre. And then came staring to her the figures of her little stockingless and shoeless sisters. And then she looked at her own neat white cotton stockings, which her situation at the theatre had made it necessary for her mother to provide for her, with hard straining and pinching from the family stock; and thought how glad she should be to cover their poor feet with the same;

and how then they could accompany her to rehearsals, which they had hitherto been precluded from doing by reason of their unfashionable attire. With these thoughts she began to return. Now virtue support Barbara!

And that never-failing friend did step in; for at that moment a strength not her own, I have heard her say, was revealed to her. She found herself transported back to the individual desk she had just quitted, and her hand slipt into the old hand of Ravenscroft, who in silence took back the money. He had been sitting, good man, insensible to the lapse of minutes which to her were anxious ages. From that moment a deep peace fell upon Barbara's heart, and she knew the quality of honesty. Charles Lamb.

HONOR AMONG THIEVES.

DURING my stay on a mountain near Cullera, to the north of the mouth of the river Xucar, I once conceived the project of estab lishing a station on the high mountains which are in front of it. I went to see them. The alcaid of one of the neighbouring villages warned me of the danger to which I was about to expose myself. "These mountains," said he to me, "form the resort of a band of highway robbers." I asked for the national guard, as I had the power to do so. My escort was supposed by the robbers to be an expedition directed against them, and they dispersed themselves at once over the rich plain which is watered by the Xucar. On my return I found them engaged in combat with the authorities of Cullera. Wounds had been given on both sides, and, if I recollect right, one alguazil was left dead on the plain.

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The next morning I regained my station. The following night was a horrible one; the rain fell in a deluge. Towards night there was a knocking at my cabin door. To the question, "Who is there?" the answer was, A custom-house guard, who asks of you a shelter for some hours." My servant having opened the door to him, I saw a magnificent man enter, armed to the teeth. He laid himself down on the earth, and went to sleep. In the morning, as I was chatting with him at the door of my cabin, his eyes flashed on seeing two persons on the slope of the mountain, the alcaid of Cullera and his principal alguazil, who

were coming to pay me a visit. "Sir," cried he, "nothing less than the gratitude which I owe to you, on account of the service which you have rendered to me this night, could prevent my seizing this occasion for ridding myself, by one shot of this carbine, of my most cruel enemy. Adieu, sir!" And he departed, springing from rock to rock as light as a gazelle.

On reaching the cabin, the alcaid and his alguazil recognised in the fugitive the chief all the brigands in the country.

Some days afterwards, the weather having again become very bad, I received a second visit from the pretended custom-house guard, who went soundly to sleep in my cabin. I saw that my servant, an old soldier, who had heard a recital of the deeds and behaviour of this man, was preparing to kill him. I jumped down from my camp bed, and, seizing my servant by the throat,― "Are you mad ?" said I to him; "are we to discharge the duties of police in this country? Do you not see, moreover, that this would expose us to the resentment of all those who obey the orders of this redoubted chief? And we should thus render it impossible for us to terminate our operations."*

Next morning, when the sun rose, I had a conversation with my guest, which I will try to reproduce faithfully.

"Your situation is perfectly known to me; I know that you are not a custom-house guard; I have learnt from certain information that you are the chief of the robbers of the country. Tell me whether I have anything to fear from your confederates?"

"The idea of robbing you did occur to us; but we concluded that all your funds would be in the neighbouring towns; that you would carry no money to the summits of mountains, where you would not know what to do with it, and that our expedition against you could have no fruitful result. Moreover, we cannot pretend to be as strong as the King of Spain. The King's troops leave us quietly enough to exercise our industry; but on the day that we molested an envoy from the Emperor of the French, they would direct against us several regiments, and we should soon have to succumb. Allow me to add, that the gratitude which I owe to you is your surest guarantee."

*The author, M. Arago, was engaged making surveys for the French government.

"Very well, I will trust in your words; I shall regulate my conduct by your answer. Tell me if I can travel at night? It is fatiguing to me to move from one station to another in the day, under the burning influence of the sun."

"You can do so, sir. I have already given my orders to this purpose; they will not be infringed."

Some days afterwards I left for Denia. It was midnight, when some horsemen rode up to me, and addressed these words to me

"Stop there, señor; times are hard: those who have something must aid those who have nothing. Give us the keys of your trunks; we will only take your superfluities."

I had already obeyed their orders, when it came into my head to call out "But I have been told that I could travel without risk."

"What is your name, sir?"

"Don Francisco Arago."

"God be with you!

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And our cavaliers, spurring away from us, rapidly lost themselves in an adjoining wood.

Arago.

HUMILITY.

It has been deemed a great paradox in christianity, that it makes humility the avenue to glory. Yet what other avenue is there to wisdom? or even to knowledge? Would you pick up precious truths, you must bend down and look for them. Everywhere the pearl of great price lies bedded in a shell which has no form of comeliness.

It is so in physical science. Bacon has declared it: "Nature may only be conquered by obeying her;" and the triumphs of science since his days have proved how willing nature is to be conquered by those who will obey her. It is so in moral speculation. Wordsworth has told us the law of his own mind, the fulfilment of which has enabled him to reveal a new world of poetry:

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"Natura non nisi parendo vincatur."

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