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VARIETIES. No CJoircsALiKG.—Love, fire, and a cough cannot be hid. UsBFULNtss.—Whoever sincerely endeavours to do all the good he can will probably do much more than he imagines, or will ever know. THE POWER OF SYMPATHY.-Human sympathy, based on Christian love, has an influence and power which all the dogmas, all the creeds combined, are at least as they are taught, wholly destitute. CHARITY.—The last, best fruit which comes to late perfection, even in the kindliest soul, is tenderness to- wards the hard, forbearance towards the unforbearing, warmth of heart towards the cold, and philanthropy towards the misanthropic. The German, as a youth, submits to the yoke of a school; as a young man, to the training of the army; as a full adult, to the possible restraints of a full- grown soldier. And he carries these habits with him into the workshop. ECONOMY.—A sound economy is a sound understand- ing brought into action. It is calculation realized. It is the doctrine of proportion reduced to practice. It is foreseeing contingencies, and providing against them. It is expecting contingencies, and being pre- pared for them. To BE CULTIVATED.—Cheerfulness is an excellent wearing quality. It has been called the brighter weather of the heart. It gives harmony to the soul, and is a perpetual song without words. It is tanta- mount to repose. It enables nature to recruit strength; whereas worry and discontent debilitates it, involving constant wear and tear. THE SANCTITY OF MEMORY.—That sanctity which settles on the memory of a great man ought, upon a double motive, to be vigilantly sustained by his countrymen; first, out of gratitude to him, as one column of the national grandeur; secondly, with a practical purpose of transmitting, unimpaired, to posterity the benefit of ennobling models. High standards of excellence are among the happiest dis- tinctions by which the modern ages of the world have an advantage over earlier, and we are all in- terested by duty as well as policy in preserving them inviolate. THE SEX IN POLAND. Polish women are pro- verbially beautiful and sweet-tempered, but thev are endowed with a courage which used to make the iron- Ir handed Count Berg say that a Polish woman and a priest together could checkmate any police-office. Since these words were uttered care has been taken to break the power of the priests in Russian Poland; for almost all the Catholic churches have been closed, and such few as remain have priests who are generally in the pay of the police and use the confessional as a means for extracting information as to alleged con- spiracies. CURIOSITIES OF SLEEP.—A distinguished lawyerwas consulted upon an important and difficult case, which he studied for several days with anxious care. His wife then saw him rise in the night, and go to a desk in the bed-room. He sat down and wrote a long paper, which he carefully placed in the desk. He then re- turned to bed, and m the morning told his wife that he had dreamt of delivering a clear and luminous opinion about a case which had greatly perplexed him, and j that he wished he could remember the train of thought of his dream. She directed him to the desk, and there he found the opinion clearly copied out, which proved to be correct. THE INTERREGNUM AT THE VATICAN.—The duty of verifying the death of a Pope falls upon the Cardinal Camerlengo or Chamberlain, and he does this by visiting the chamber of death, striking the Pope on the forehead with a silver mallet, and calling upon him by name. It is not till this has been done, and till the Pope has been officially and in set form certi- fied to be truly dead, that the great bell in the Capitol II is tolled to announce to the Romans that they are Popeless, and that the supreme authority of the city has passed to the College of Cardinals and their marshal. Such of the cardinals as happen to be in Rome are at once summoned together, and notices are those at a distance. The Maestro di Camera delivers the Fisherman's ring to the Camerlengo, or Chamberlain of the Vatican, and it is formally broken before the assembled cardinals; coins are struck bear- ing the arms of the Camerlengo, sede vacante; and the Camerlengo, taking possession of the Vatican and its treasures, consigns the corpse of the Holy Father to the penitentiaries of the Vatican Basilica for inter- ment. THE INDIAN'S AMBinoN.—Civilization has many points of ambitious attainment—the rewards of letters, triumphs in the forum and legislative hall, the diplo- matic bureau, &c.—but the Indian has only one prime honour to grasp; it is triumph in the war-path, it is rushing upon his enemy, tearing the scalp reeking from his head, and then uttering his terrible war- whoop. For this crowning act he is permitted to mount the honoured feather of the war eagle-the. king of carnivorous birds. By this mark he is publicly known, and his honours recognised by all the tribe, and by the surrounding tribe whose customs assi- milate. When the scalp of an enemy has been won, very great pains are taken to exhibit it. For this pur- pose it is stretched on a hoop, and mounted on a pole, the inner part is painted red, and the hair adjusted to hang in its natural manner. If it be the scalp of a male, eagle's feathers are attached to denote the fact. If a female, a comb or scissors is hung on the frame. In this condition it is placed in the hands of an old woman, who bears it about in the scalp-dance, while opprobious epithets are uttered against the tribe from whom it is taken. FEMALE SWINDLERs.-They are generally irresis- tible to the sterner sex, they travel on their winning ways," and deceive the landlord before he knows it, and when they are justly punished, which is very sel- dom, fall back on the plea that their sex protects them." Not long since a lady was driven in a cab up to the ladies' entrance of one of our leading hotels, and was escorted to the ladies' parlour. She was dressed in the height of fashion, but very plainly, and seemed to be a quiet, unpretending lady. The only article of luggage she had with her was a small box, neatly wrapped up in a manilla paper, with a shawl- strap attached, by means of which it was carried. This she seemed to handle with great care, and requested that it be placed in the hands of the proprietor, and a receipt given for the same. She was a bewitching blonde, with a smile sweet enough to melt the heart of a Shylock. She entranced all the boarders; spent a pleasant week; and one bright morning started out to do a little shopping," and for all that her friends ill the house know is still shopping. After an absence of two or three days the proprietor's enepicione were at last aroused, and opening the aforesaid small box, which by the way was hermetically sealed with red sealing-wax, they found four bricks of the best manufacture. „ COURTSHIP OF BALZAC.—The circumstances attend- ing the firat meeting of Jlalzac, the French novelist, and the Princess of Hanski, their intercourse, and finally their courtship and marriage, are most peculiar and interesting. The story has been told somewhat as follows: When this celebrated man was at the height of his fame, travelling in Switzerland, he arrived at an inn just as the Prince Hanski and his wife were leaving it. Balzac was ushered into the room they had vacated, and was looking out of the window to watch their departure, when the Princess entered the apartment in seach of a book she had left there. Her face was an exceedingly fair one, and her voice one of the sweetest he had ever listened to. These charms were not lost on the susceptible novelist; and, when he found that the book she was so loth to leave behind was a pocket-edition of his own works, he was completely enchanted. This interview was the only one they had until he went to Germany to present himself as her accepted husband; but, during the interval of fifteen years, a literary correspondence was kept up between them, which ceased when the Prince died. This fact was communicated to Balzac in a letter written by the newly made widow, who in- formed him that her late lord had bequeathed to her all his domains and great wealth, and that she felt bound to requite him, in some measure, for his liber- ality by giving him a successor in the person of Balzac. The delighted author did not wait for a second sum- mons, but hastened to her chateau on the Rhine, where they were soon married. NIGHT ON THE NILE.-There was a wild gorge In the Arabian hills, where the chain drew near the shore. As we approached it I saw that it was flooded with mellow light. Soft breezes bore us slowly against the river current, and we noiselessly approached the mouth of the gorge. Oh, vale of enchantment! Fantastic crags leaped into the air and hung suspended by some mighty magic. Between the golden walls, in the bed of the valley, a grove of palms rustled their plumes in the delicious air, and just above these palms rose a splendid moon. Every leaf was lustrous in its light; every rock sparkled faintly, and out of the mouth of the valley poured a deluge of light in which we were all drowned with glory and transfigured. Our barge was silver, our sails of softest silk, and bright flames played upon the waters under us. It was one of the gates of paradise There was a bend in the river be- yond the valley, and when we had rounded it those gates were closed on us for ever and ever. The moon climbed up into heaven and did what she could to smother the stars; they are not easily outshone in these crystal skies. The cabin went to sleep in a body. I hung about the ship and burned my weed with the spirit of oneswho offers a sacrifice to some adorable but invisible object. I scented the incense of nargileh and heard the water bubbling in the shell of the cocoa- nut; 1 the hasheesh eaters were sleeping their fatal sleep (we have six of them in our crew). And very shortly one of these slaves of sleep began muttering a story to the moon in a sort of sing-song that attracted about him an audience of intent listeners. The storyteller reclined on his bed of rugs between decks, the hatch was drawn back, and a great square of moonlight brought him into strong relief. Dark .Nubians lay full length on the deck and listened as stealthily as spies. Two or three of the hasheesh eaters sat near and applauded the narration with foolish do- light chuckling to themselves continually. i Fame is an undertaker that pays but little attention the living, but bedizens the dead, furnishes out their funerals, and follows them to the grave. Prayer is very profitable; at night it is our cover- e {t is our armour. Prayer should be the key of the day and the lock of the night. DOCTRINE. NO doctrine is good for anything that does not leave behind it an ethereal furrow ready ior tne planting of seed which shall bear abundant harvest. r i^owEEA^DFRuiT—rt is not until the flower has fallen off that the fruit begins to ripen. So in life it is when the romance is past that the practical usefulness oegins. WONDER. — In wonder all philosophy began, in wonder it ends, and admiration fills up the interspace. But the first wonder is the offspring of ignorance the last is the parent of adoration. # liEi'ENTANCE.—Many men pass fifty or sixtv vears in the world, and when they are just going- out of it they bethink themselves, and step back, as it were to uo something which they had all the while forgotten, to wit, the main business for which they came into the world—to repent of their sins, and reform their lives, ana make their peace with heaven, and in time prepare for eternity. A WORD FOR F ASHION.-Rail at fashion as we will, and is there a woman who has not occasionally longed *0 i-urn her back upon her and her manifold requisi- tions admit that she is a stumbling-block in the way of comfort very often, and that to follow her too eagerly is a very dangerous and demoralizing thing, still one must say one thing for her :-She has at pre- Eent an eye for beauty; and she produces prettier ob- jects than one would be apt to see if every woman made her own patterns. Each human being has a talent for something; and there are those in the world whose mission seems to be to produce new costumes, or to dig from the tombs of the past the modes which made long- perished beauty lovelier. Just now there are styles that become every one, and to look her best one has but to rely upon a conscientious modiste. VOLUNTEER LIFE BRIGADIE. The Tynemouth Volunteer Life Brigade consists of nearly 150 mem- bers, who are formed into four divisions, each under the command of a captain, elected annually by the efficient members. The Brigade is composed of all classes of society resident in the neighbourhood and includes clergymen, doctors, men of business, and those in. their employ, and a good proportion of boatmen fishermen, and men who have formerly been sailors! The dress worn at drill is a dark blue guernsey with a wide light-coloured waist-belt, having the initials of the Brigade embroidered on it. The belt is always worn at wrecks, and is necessary, particularly at night, to distinguish members from other persons present, who are sometimes apt to force themselves where they can only be in the way. There is a regular practice drill once a month, but often more frequently, when it is desired to test some proposed improvements in the apparatus.— Cornhill Magazine. JIIXPRESSION OF THE EMOTIONS.—There is nothing more wonderful in nature than the expressiveness of the human face, nor anything which excites a wider sympathy than this expression of the emotions. The whole charm of art lies in the expression, and no art is so powerful as the dramatic, in which words are interpreted by looks and gesture. Anyone who has seen a great play well acted will know that even the most powerful words convey only half their meaning without a visible embodiment. The countenance utters a thousand things which words miss or mar. In delicate natures it is as sensitive as the surface of a lake, and is ruffied or calmed by every breath of feeling. Each shade of passion, from rage to tender- ness, from love to hate, from joy to misery, has its peculiar reflection, and the slightest shades of variation axe perceptible. A glance, a blush, a smile, a tear will convey in an instant the thought which a poet would labour for hours to express, and which he would, after all, fall short of. MENDELSSOHN'S VISIT TO THE QUEEN.—Mendels- sohn gave us an account of his visit to the Queen. She had received him very graciously, and he was much pleased with her rendering of some of his songs, which he had accompanied; he had also played to the Queen and the Prince. She must have been pleased, for, when he rose to depart, she thanked him, and said, "You have given me so much pleasure; now, what can I do to give you pleasure?" Mendels- sohn deprecating, she insisted, so he candidly admitted the he had a wish that only her Majesty could fulfil. He, himself the head of a household, felt mightily interested in the Queen's domestic arrange- ments; in short, might he see the royal children in their royal nurseries ? The Queen at once entered into the spirit of his request, and, in her most winning way, conducted him herself through the nurseries, all the while comparing notes with him on the homely subjects that had a special attraction for both.—2 he Life of Moscheles. SUGAR AND WATER VERSES.—Words are only valuable when they express something, and silly poetry is even more worthless than silly prose, inas- much as it aims at a higher and more regular form of expression, therefore its failure is more of a dis- appointment and also for the reason that beautiful form comes by labour, and it is a pity to see labour bestowed on what is worthless when finished. You expect a drink of rich and generous wine, and you. are offered some tepid sugar and water—not even, rose-water. These eau sucree verses are often graceful, delicate, pretty, and this may seem praise enough; but when you remember that the same praise can be justly bestowed on a mould of blanc-mange, it can hardly seem sufficient. Blanc-mange is a concoction made up by the confectioner, which a spoon breaks into a shapeless mass; and these mixed and stewed concoctions, boneless, without the fibre of flesh or the pulp or juice of fruit, when seasoned and poured into a mould of imitative fruit or flowers, can never bear the critic's knife. There must be structure, even in a poem, to have it worth anything; not bony, protrud- ing structure, but something that holds the part in co. herency.-Galaxy. WREN'S DESIGN FOR ST. PAUL'S.—The great architect, Wren, was the son of a Dean of Windsor, and nephew of a bishop of Norwich, whom Cromwell had imprisoned for his Romish tendencies. From a boy Wren had shown a genius for scientific discovery. He distinguished himself in almost every branch of knowledge, and to his fruitful brain we are indebted for some fifty-two suggestive discoveries. He now hoped to build London on a magnificent scale; but it was not to be. Even in the plans for the new cathedral Wren was from the beginning thwarted and impeded. Ignorance, envy, jealousy, and selfishness met him at every line he drew. He made two designs-the first a Greek, the second a Latin cross. The Greek cross the clergy considered as.unsuitable for a cathedral. The model for it was long preserved in the Trophy Room of St. Paul's, where, either from neglect or the zeal of relic-hunters, the western portico was lost. It is now at South Kensington, and is still imperfect. The in- terior of the first design is by many considered superior to the present interior. The present recesses along the aisles of the nave, tradition says, were in- sisted on by James II., who thought they would be useful as side chapels when masses were once more introduced.-Tlwrnbury's" Old and New London." TITS DEFENCE OF THE UNITED KINGDOM.—Special instructions and superior skill may be essential in the case of sapping and mining—though it must be re- membered that a fair proficiency in even these branches of art was acquired in the Peninsula by soldiers of the line under the tuition of Sir John Burgoyne-but any man of ordinary intelligence would soon master the mystery of making gabions, fascines, spar-and- barrel bridges, batteries and field works. In short, we maintain that, except where complicated work has to be performed, a battalion of infantry ought to be quite independent of the Royal Engineers. Of course, there is little chance of any countenance being given by the latter to a scheme which would render their reduction feasible, and prove that, after all, the science of which they arc the professors is but a very simple science indeed-no military mystery, but as regards its application to the requirements of an army in the field, easily mastered. It is, however, time that the army should free itself from the dictatorship which the Ord- nance Corps, profiting by their access to Mr. Card well, have managed to found, and more than time that the country should cease to lay out large sums of money simply for the gratification of a clique. We (Iron) wiU even go as far as to say that, with few exceptions, the boasted science of the Engineers is but foolishness. The conditions of war have changed, but the Engineers refuse to recognize that fact, and decline to adrSt that many of their old maxims are no longer applicable. 11 ,ST £ 1<- lortunate is a family that possesses Skel I" lStGr- The mother confides in her, the father hold 1,1 m ter ability to aid and cheer the house- P,. a younger ones lean upon her as a mother. T1- ei~ c°unsels, her example, her influence she may a-o quite as much as the parents to give tone to the family hie. She is at once companion and counsellor tor the junior members, since, separated by only a brief interval from the sports of childhood, she can. sympathize easily with the little wants and griefs that fill the child's heart to overflowing, and show it how to compass its desires and forget its sorrows. A short girlhood is usually the allotment of the oldest daughter; but this is made up to her in the long and delightful companionship she has with her mother, in the sense she is made to have of her own importance in the family, and in the unusual capability she is obliged by the force of circumstances to acquire and display. It is in some respects unfortunate to be born an oldest daughter, to be kept at home from school on busy- days," and be compelled to take care of the baby from year's end to year's end, to see the younger daughters free and easy, at liberty to go and come as they will while she sighs in vain for like liberty. The oldest daughter is often horn and reared in comparative poverty. She grows up adding her daily mite of help to build up the family fortunes by saving servant? wages; and when ease and competence smile on the family circle, her parents are apt to forget that she should enjoy the fruits ot nor labour and share equally with the younger children in the varied p^rmMlVb- i&euva that youag ladies prize m