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WHEN Franklin made his discovery of the identity of lightning and electricity, it was sneered at, and people asked, "Of what use is it?" To which his apt reply was, "What is the use of a child? It may become a man!" When Galvani discovered that a frog's leg twitched when placed in contact with different metals, it could scarcely have been imagined that so apparently insignificant a fact could have led to important results. Yet therein lay the germ of the Electric Telegraph, which binds the intelligence of continents together, and probably, before many years elapse, will "put a girdle round the globe." So too, little bits of stone and fossil, dug out of the earth, intelligently interpreted, have issued in the science of geology and the practical operations of mining, in which large capitals are invested, and vast numbers of persons profitably employed.

The gigantic machinery employed in pumping our mines, working our mills and manufactories, and driving our steam-ships and locomotives, in like manner depends for its supply of power upon so slight an agency as particles of water expanded by heat. The steam which we see issuing from the common tea-kettle, when pent up within an ingeniously contrived mechanism, displays a force equal to that of millions of horses, and contains a power to rebuke the waves, and to set even the hurricane at defiance. Nay, it is the same power at work within the bowels of the earth which has been the cause of many of those semi-miraculous catastrophes,-volcanoes and earthquakes,-that have played so mighty a part in the history of the globe. Smiles.


THIS world's wealth, which men so much desire,
May well be liken'd to a burning fire:

Whereof a little can do little harm,

But profit much, our bodies well to warm.
But take too much, and surely thou shalt burn;
So too much wealth to too much woe doth turn.



AM, sir, a practitioner in panegyric, or, to speak more plainly, a professor of the art of puffing, at your service. . . . I daresay, now, you conceive half the very civil paragraphs and advertisements you see to be written by the parties concerned, or their friends? No such thing: nine out of ten are manufactured by me in the way of business.

Even the auctioneers now-the auctioneers, I say-though the rogues have lately got some credit for their language—not an article of the merit theirs take them out of their pulpits, and they are as dull as catalogues! -No, sir; 'twas I enriched their style-'twas I first taught them to crowd their advertisements with panegyrical superlatives, each epithet rising above the other, like the bidders in their own auction-rooms! From me they learned to inlay their phraseology with variegated chips of exotic metaphor: by me, too, their inventive faculties were called forth :-by me they were instructed to clothe ideal walls with gratuitous fruits—to insinuate obsequious rivulets into visionary groves-to teach courteous shrubs to nod their approbation of the grateful soil; or on emergencies to raise upstart oaks, where there never had been an acorn; to create a delightful vicinage without the assistance of a neighbour; or fix the temple of Hygeia in the fens of Lincolnshire!




S lately a sage on fine ham was repasting,
(Though for breakfast too savoury, I ween,)
He exclaim'd to a friend, who sat silent and fasting,
"What a breakfast of learning is mine!"
"A breakfast of learning!" with wonder he cried,
And laugh'd, for he thought him mistaken;
"Why, what is it else?" the sage quickly replied,

"When I'm making large extracts from Bacon!"

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THE HE little republic, to which I gave laws, was regulated in the following manner by sunrise we all assembled in our common apartment, the fire being previously kindled by the servant. After we had saluted each other with proper ceremony, for I always thought fit to keep up some mechanical forms of good breeding, without which freedom ever destroys friendship, we all bent in gratitude to that Being who gave us another day. This duty being performed, my son and I went to pursue our usual industry abroad, while my wife and daughters employed themselves in providing breakfast, which was always ready at a certain time. I allowed half-an-hour for this meal, and an hour for dinner; which time was taken up in innocent mirth between my wife and daughters, and in philosophical arguments between my son and me.

As we rose with the sun, so we never pursued our labours after it was gone down, but returned home to the expecting family, where smiling looks, a neat hearth, and pleasant fire were prepared for our reception. Nor were we without guests; sometimes Farmer Flamborough, our talkative neighbour, and often the blind piper would pay us a visit, and taste our gooseberry-wine; for the making of which we had lost neither the recipe nor the reputation. These harmless people had several ways of being good company; for, while one played, the other would sing some soothing ballad-Johnny Armstrong's Last Good-night, or The Cruelty of Barbara Allan. The night was concluded in the manner we began the morning, my youngest boys being appointed to read the lessons of the day; and he that read loudest, distinctest, and best, was to have a halfpenny on Sunday to put into the poor's-box.




'HE fox says of the mulberries when he cannot get at them, "They are not good."

Loaves put awry into the oven come out crooked.

He pulls at a long rope who desires another's death.

The friendship of the great is like the shadow of a bush, soon gone.

Money borrowed is soon sorrowed.

With the help of an "If" you might put Paris in a bottle.

For over-buying there's no help but selling again.

He has a good pledge of the cat who has her skin.

It is nothing at all: only a woman drowning.

A hundred years is not much, but never is a long while.
He knocks boldly at the door who brings good news.
Never sell the bear skin tell you have killed the bear.
The beadle of the parish is always of the vicar's opinion.

Horses run for benefices, but asses get them.

One "take this" is better than two "you shall have."
Word by word big books are made.


MAID of my love, sweet Genevieve!

In Beauty's light you glide along :
Your eye is like the star of eve,
And sweet your voice as seraph's song.
Yet not your heavenly beauty gives
This heart with passion soft to glow :
Within your soul a voice there lives-
It bids you hear the tale of woe.
When sinking low the sufferer wan
Beholds no hand outstretcht to save,
Fair as the bosom of the swan
That rises graceful o'er the wave,

I've seen your breast with pity heave,

And therefore love I you, sweet Genevieve!



FOR the buyer a hundred eyes are too few: for the seller one is enough.

He dances well to whom Fortune pipes.

He who errs in the tens errs in the thousands.

There is no making pancakes without breaking eggs.

He who pays before hand is served behind hand.

He who would be long an old man must begin betimes.

Credit is dead. Bad pay killed it.

When the will is prompt the legs are nimble.

One eye of the master sees more than four eyes of his servants.

To protest and knock one's head against the wall, is what everybody can do.

The virtue of silence is a great piece of knowledge.

If the young man knew, if the old man could, there is nothing but would be done.

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