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Nova Zembla is temperate to this; the Alps are close stoves when compared with the roads near Wigton; for they are absolutely missed from the severity of the weather.
The reader's attention is now wound up to the highest pitch; he is all anxiety for his favourite hero. Who does not see the unfortunate driver groping in the dark, and hold. ing the reins in one hand while he blows the other to keep in almost expiring animation? Who does not see Thomson's imaginary traveller done to the life, and the hapless driver buried under mountains of accumulated snow? In this situation the author leaves his hero; forgets him altogether, disdains to subjoin a verb to the solitary nominative, and flies with the rapidity of lightning to a minor episode wheel within a wheel. While the charioteer is actually missing his road, off prance the fiery coursers to the stream, (which is no doubt called Xanthus or Scamander) and without any definite cause they plunge into the foaming deep. They are not forced or driven, nor do they fall in; but exhaling fire from their capacious nostrils they boldly plunge, like Cassius and Cæsar, side by side, into the angry flood. A second Phæton loses his path among the stars and falls into a second Po.
In the foaming deep the foaming horses were drowned. But it would be repressing the ardour of curiosity to stop here and pronounce a tedious though deserved eulogium on their respective virtues; the chaise demands attention. The chaise was dashed to pieces by the stream; and not only did the post-chaise itself contain no passengers, but every little piece, on examination held not a soul. It was dashed to pieces which (pieces) contained no passengers. There is an energy in this analytical mode of relation which the best authors often adopt. Every one will recollect Shylock's trebly strong assertion:
“ If every ducat in six thousand ducats,
Shylock limits his number; he moderately confines himself to thirty-six thousand parts, but this little chaise is dashed into pieces numberless; the imagination is left to wander without control, and in every minute part, after being cut up like Romeo into little stars, not one passenger can be found.
Now comes the end. The reader has seen the driver groping in the dark, frozen out of his senses, and finally plunging into the foaming stream. He is now to fall like Lucifer, or else “to pluck up drowning honour by the locks.” The perils of Ulysses have been passed; by land and water dangers have environed him; and after losing sight of him for a season, the story is at length wound up by his reappearance on the stage. If he had been introduced before, the conclusion had been foolishly anticipated, and all anxiety had been destroyed; but at the end a god interposes to save the suffering driver. A miracle rescues him, and he regains the shore. The god Frost (who by the by has been but lately introduced into the American mythology, and it is presumed crossed the ocean for the occasion) had essayed in vain to destroy the hero of the chaise, a more powerful engine saves him for future exploits.
Of this episode it may be said, no one can commence it without reading it through; the attention is rivetted, and unlike Homer, the writer never nods.
The moral of the tale is perfect. Virtue may suffer for a time; but the elements will war in vain to interrupt its final happiness—miracles will intervene, and the reward sooner or later will arrive.
THE SENTENTIOUS WORLD.
We call that a contrary wind which is not favourable to ourselves; forgetting that it is blowing a favourable gale for somebody else.
The sight of a distressed beggar has its use. It awakens our humanity, and makes us contented with our condition.
Use yourself to thinking, and you will find that you have more in your head than you thought of.
A man, who does not examine his own conduct, will be sure to find some good natured friends ready enough to do it for him.
In some countries, if your purse be as long as your neck, you will never be hanged.
It is observed that those men succeed well, who, leaving their original employment, take to another more agreeable to their gerius. Quintin Matsys, from a blacksmith, at Antwerp, became an eminent painter.
A secret is no where so safe, as in your own bosom,
An Alderman, after a turtle feast, does not sleep half so sound as a day labourer, after a mess of oat meal porridge.
Very young people generally dream in courtship, and wake in wedlock.
The harder you fare, when you are young, the better you will fare when you are old.
If an injury were not to be resented, you would have a demand made upon your coat, and perhaps on your waistcoat, a short time after.
If an idle man knew the value of time he would not be so desirous of killing it.
A pack of hounds is more easily managed than a pack of idle servants.
The farther a story travels, the worse it grows, till at last it becomes a downright lie.
Were the Book of Fate laid open to view, no man would enjoy a moment's peace from the day he looked into it.
We err, when we say that rambling in the woods is the state of _nature. Man is a social animal, and his natural state is civilization.
Animals only regard their young during their defenceless state.
It is the balsam, that cures all his miseries in this life.
There is a laudable virtue in wishing to leave behind us some memorial of our having lived.
A family that is disunited, seldom thrives. | Men, when sitting, have great difficulty in managing their hands. Women's difficulty lies in the management of their feet.
When you have any thing to do, let your head and hands always go together.
Intense thinking is nearly as bad for the constitution as intense labour.
It is a great accomplishment to be able to tell a story well.
When blessed with health and prosperity, cultivate a compassionate disposition.
Think of the distreses of human life ; of the solitary cottage, the dying parent,"and the weeping orphan.
If, when engaged in a literary pursuit, you find your genius begins to flag, lay your work aside till your genius returns; and do not persist in writing what you must certainly blot hereafter.
Nothing is so easy for a gentleman as to enter a lady's drawing room, and nothing is so difficult as to do it gracefully.
A suspicious man resembles a traveller in the wilderness, who sees bo objects around him but such as are dreary and uncomfortable.
Whoever considers the nature of human society, must know that, from necessity, there must be a subordination.
Equality is theoretical nonsense.
Those, who extravantly extol the superiority of the ancients, should consider that among them they had not a linen shirt or knew the benefit of a pair of spectacles.
If you are a studious man, be regular in the times of your studious employments.
A regular division of time prevents one hour from encroaching upon another.
A handsome man is often vainer than a handsome woman. When asked to dinner, either promptly accept the invitation, or give a reason for declining it; but do not make any hesitation, as if you made your acceptance a matter of favour.
In a mixed company let your conversation be very guarded, for, without intending it, you may say something, which a person present may consider as personal, and for which you may be obliged to make an apology.
Send your son into the world with good principles, and a good education, and he will find his way in the dark.
A guinea found in the street will not do a man so much good as one carned by industry.
Those bear disappointments best, who have been the most used to them.
If you were born a gentleman, take care to live and die like one. Give a man work, and he will find money.
Unless you are perfectly well informed, do not venture to give your opinion upon a work of art. It may injure the artist, and probably will occasion your judgment to be brought into question.
To attend to a long story ill told, requires more than mortal patience.
To suffer your judgment to be always regulated by other people is worse than selling it for a mess of pottage.
A fine woman ought to add annually to her accomplishments, as much as her beauty loses in the time.
A man of bright parts has generally more indiscretions to answer for than a blockhead.
A rich man often dares to do a mean thing that would be reprobated in a man of small fortune.
It is a stern rule of life to care for nobody that does not care for
When your husband desires you to do a thing, that is not of material moment, do it cheerfully and do not refuse from an ill bred and impolitic spirit of opposition. Nothing can be lost by this condescension, but something may be gained.
If you wish to have a clean crop of corn, weed the field with great care. Do the same by your mind.
As the constitution of man, both in body and mind, is constantly changing, self examination becomes a frequent and a necessary duty.
If you and your husband take a journey of pleasure, never disagree about which road you are to take, or which place to look at. Remember you are partners and must not have separate views.
No man can be a good school-master, who does not love his profession.
When we are young, we enjoy the pleasures of youth, and never think that those pleasures may bring on the mortifications of age.
Blame no man for what he cannot help. We must not expect of the dial to tell us the hour after the sun is set.
If you wish to be well with a peevish relation, cat what he eats, drink what he drinks, and let his pleasures and amusements be yours.