KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



numbered with the dead. They sleep, — to 

 meet us again in this world no more. 



It is impossible to regard these things, as 

 too many do, as mere matters of course. 

 Old Time is stealing a march upon us. and 

 we find our turn approaching. We know 

 not how soon ! This increases our desire, 

 and our ardent longing, to be " useful" in 

 our day and generation ; and we will not 

 deny that we feel some little pride in know- 

 ing that many feel interested in the exten- 

 sion of our life. Long ere Christmas, our 

 earthly career was apparently at an end. Our 

 sand, it was imagined, had nearly run out. 

 Our life hung on doubt, for many days. We 

 had prepared for the great change. 



The wise Dispenser of events, however, 

 caused hope to spring up. In the hands of 

 a skilful practitioner we rallied. We con- 

 tended vigorously against the invasion of our 

 internal enemy ; and, being a man of the 

 most temperate habits, we finally vanquished 

 him. For our victory, let us thank the God 

 of all our mercies. We do so, most devoutly; 

 the more especially, as many who were at 

 the same time with ourself suffering from 

 a precisely similar malady (but who were 

 not men of temperate habits), sank under 

 their sufferings. Another forcible argument 

 this, for our favorite motto — Temperance in 

 all things. 



We have taken occasion, in former num- 

 bers of our Journal, to commend to our 

 readers' especial notice the due observance 

 of Christmas, — a season when all families 

 and their various branches should make a 

 point of assembling together, to cement the 

 bond of love. Nature, no doubt, rejoices as 

 much as we do in the various reunions that 

 take place at such a time. Many ill-feelings 

 have perhaps been suffered to exist, between 

 many parties, for many months previous to 

 this grand meeting. A kiss of love at once 

 annihilates the remembrance of these. Fresh 

 vows are exchanged ; future meetings plan- 

 ned ; many sweet promises of communicating 

 more frequently are given ; and so the New 

 Year dawns auspiciously on all. We repeat, 

 that we look upon the season of Christmas, 

 with its holly, misseltoe, and other commen- 

 dable associations, with fond delight. Nor 

 have we been wanting this season in per- 

 forming our part in what we so strongly 

 recommend to others. We feel individually 

 all the better for it ; and we will undertake 

 to say as much for the possessors of the 

 many happy, cheerful, loving, and lovely 

 countenances, with which ours has inno- 

 cently come in contact. 



Well ; we will not now dilate upon these 

 matters ; though we feel justified in hinting 

 at them, and in gently enforcing their obser- 

 vance. Let us turn to the New Year. 



It is a wise provision of Nature, to make 



certain little breaks in the routine of our too 

 regular life. She introduces a succession of 

 pleasing changes, to keep our minds in cqui- 

 librio. From to-day, we shall live in the 

 hope and pleasing expectation of seeing a 

 daily change in the aspect of our fields and 

 gardens. Hitherto stationary, there will be 

 a progressive movement in vegetation. 

 Though the year is young, there is already 

 much to delight us ; for the season, having 

 been unusually mild, many pretty little heads 

 are modestly popping up, even now, to greet 

 us as we pass from place to place. 



We must not forget, too, that the days are 

 gradually lengthening ; and that the dear, 

 bright, and glorious sun has commenced his 

 new annual course. Feeble though his rays 

 at the beginning of the month, yet is his 

 enlivening countenance shining upon us 

 brighter and brighter every day. Still, 

 Winter is upon us, and we must, for a little 

 season, amuse ourselves indoors as well as out ; 

 for the voices of the birds are not yet fully 

 heard, their "harps are hung upon the wil- 

 lows." It is a painful sight to see how some 

 of our tiny friends are benumbed with the 

 cold ; but it is more than compensated by 

 the pleasure we feel in welcoming them to 

 the hospitality of our table. The wrens, the 

 robins, " Dickey Dunnock," and the blue- 

 headed titmouse, flock around us on every 

 side ; and many a grateful song do we get, 

 by the way, in return for a few crumbs of 

 bread thrown out of the window. 



January, in its early days, is a cold, wet, 

 drizzly, unsatisfactory month — a month of 

 colds and asthma, rheumatism and lumbago. 

 All nature partakes of its blighting influ- 

 ence. Still it comes with its awakening hand, 

 and shakes grey-bearded old Winter in his 

 chilly sleep :— 



A wrinkled, crabbed man, they picture tliee, 

 Old Winter; with a rugged beard, as grey 

 As the long moss upon the apple tree. 

 Blue-lfpt, an ice-drop at thy sharp blue nose ; 

 Close muffled up, and on thy dreary way 

 Plodding alone through sleet and drifting snows. 



Rude, too, and violent, is the awakening 

 hand of January, causing the very icicles 

 which bind old Winter down, to rattle again, 

 whilst breathing into his frozen ear tidings 

 that each successive day is longer than the 

 last ; and bidding him prepare to abdicate in 

 favor of the tender, delicate snowdrops, 

 whose graceful heads are even now visible as 

 they exert their growing energies to make 

 their way through the frost-bound earth : — 

 Nature ! great parent ! whose unceasing hand 

 Rolls round the seasons of the changeful year, 

 How mighty, how majestic, arc thy works ! 

 With what a pleasing dread they swell the soul 

 That sees astonished ! and astonished sings ! 



How wearisomely would the year pass away, 

 but for these changes ! How would life hang 



