sources. -all fill us with mute but exquisite delight, and we revel in the luxury of mere sensation. But in the depth of winter, when nature lies despoiled of every charm, and wrapped in her shroud of sheeted snow, we turn for our gratifications to moral The dreariness and desolation of the landscape, the short gloomy days and darksome nights, while they circumscribe our wanderings, shut in our feelings also from rambling abroad, and make us more keenly disposed for the pleasure of the social circle. Our thoughts are more concentrated-our friendly sympathies more aroused. We feel more sensibly the charm of each other's society, and are brought more closely together by dependence on each other for enjoyment. HEART CALLETH UNTO HEART; and we draw our pleasures from the deep wells of loving-kindness, which lie in the quiet recesses of our bosoms; and which, when resorted to, furnish forth the pure element of domestic felicity. The pitchy gloom without MAKES THE HEART DILATE ON ENTERING THE ROOM FILLED WITH THE GLOW AND WARMTH OF THE EVENING FIRE THE RUDDY BLAZE DIFFUSES AN ARTIFICIAL SUMMER AND SUNSHINE THROUGH THE ROOM, AND LIGHTS UP EACH COUNTENANCE IN A KINDLIER WELCOME. WHERE does the honest face of hospitality expand into a broader and more cordial smile-WHERE is the shy glance of love more sweetly eloquent-THAN BY THE WINTER FIRE-SIDE? and as the hollow blast of wintry wind rushes through the hall, claps the distant door, whistles about the casement, and rumbles down the chimney, what can be more grateful than that feeling of sober and sheltered security, with which we look upon the comfortable chamber and the scene of domestic hilarity? The English, from the great prevalence of rural habits throughout every class of society, have always been fond of those festivals and holidays which agreeably interrupt the stillness of country life; and they were, in former days, particularly observant of the religious and social rites of Christinas. It is inspiring to read even the dry details which some antiquaries have given of the quaint humours, the burlesque pageants, the complete abandonment to mirth and good-fellowship, with which this festival was celebrated. It seemed to throw open every door, and unlock every heart. It brought the peasant and the peer together, and blended all ranks in one warm generous flow of joy and kindness. The old halls of castles and manor-houses resounded with the harp and the Christmas carol, and their ample boards groaned under the weight of hospitality. Even the poorest cottage welcomed the festive season with green decorations of bay and holly; the cheerful fire glanced its rays through the lattice, inviting the passengers to raise the latch, and join the gossip knot huddled round the hearth, beguiling the long evening with legendary jokes and off told Christmas tales. GOOD TEMPER. [Cheerfully and with vigour.] There's not a cheaper thing on earth, 'Tis worth more than distinguished birth, Or thousands gained a year. It maketh poverty content, A charm to banish grief away, To free the brow from care Turns tears to smiles, makes dullness gay, And yet 'tis cheap as summer's dew As ever man possessed As smiles the rainbow through the cloud As music 'mid the tempest loud As springs an arch across the tide What may this wondering spirit be, GOOD TEMPER-'tis the choicest gift VOLTAIRE, THE INFIDEL PHILOSOPHER, AND THE POOR BOBBIN WEAVER. [Earnest and vigorous.] The path to bliss abounds with many a snare; Lived long, wrote much, laughed heartily, and died. And fumed with frankincense on every side, O HAPPY PEASANT! O unhappy bard! 97 HEAVEN. THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. [Earnest and bold.] It must be so-Plato, thoú reason'st well! Or, whence this secret dread, and inward horror, 'TIS HEAVEN ITSELF, THAT POINTS OUT AN HEREAFTER, AND INTIMATES ETERNITY TO MAN. ETERNITY! thou pleasing-dreadful thought! Through what new scenes and changes must we pass ! Through all her works-he must delight in virtue ? But when? or where? This world was made for Cæsar. (Laying his hand on his sword.) Thus I am doubly armed. My death, my life, My bane and antidote are both before me. THIS in a moment brings me to an end; But THIS informs me I shall never die ! The soul, secure in her existence, smiles At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years; BUT THOU SHALL FLOURISH IN IMMORTAL YOUTH, UNHURT AMIDST THE WAR OF ELEMENTS, The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds! WHAT KIND OF PLACE IS HEAVEN? [Earnest and cheerful.] The summer-day was almost closed; The glorious sun with parting beam And flushed the clouds with golden light, A little child in mourning weeds Then drawing to her mother's knee, 66 Mamma, what kind of place is Heaven, A tear sprang to that mother's eye, AS IN GOD'S WORD YOU READ. ""Tis purer than yon spotless sky, Where our dear Willie's gone." "And are there streets and houses there?" "What do they do in Heaven, mamma 66 'They sing the songs of God; They all have robes of dazzling white, "They pluck the fruits of Paradise, They walk by Eden's stream; With angels bright their God they serve, "And is it very far away?" "How shall I ever get to heaven, As those bright angels are?' |