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KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



inhaling vapors even of an aqueous nature. 

 How will men of these notions be able to combat 

 the oldest practice for the preservation of health 

 — viz., early rising? The sun, first risen from 

 its bed, spreads its effulgent calorific rays over 

 the earth's surface, and causes evaporation; it is 

 this watery vapor, so often objected to by vale- 

 tudinarians, that is so conducive to the free re- 

 spiratory action ; it is this, with the genial warmth 

 of the luminary, that gives salutary influence to 

 the circulation; not by expediting the circulation, 

 but by the moisture and the electric rays equal- 

 ising and improving all the functions of life. All 

 old people have uniformly adopted the practice 

 of early rising. 



The Benevolence or Domestic Life. — As 

 great and exalted spirits undertake the pursuit 

 of hazardous actions for the good of others, at 

 the same time gratifying their passion of glory; 

 so do worthy minds in the domestic way of life 

 deny themselves many advantages, to satisfy a 

 generous benevolence which they bear to their 

 friends oppressed with distresses and calamities. 

 Such natures one may call stores of Providence, 

 which are actuated by a secret celestial influence 

 to undervalue the ordinary gratifications of 

 wealth, to give comfort to a heart loaded with 

 affliction, to save a falling family, to preserve a 

 branch of trade in their neighborhood, and give 

 work to the industrious, preserve the portion of 

 the helpless infant, and raise the head of the 

 mourning father. People whose hearts are 

 wholly bent towards pleasure, or intent upon 

 gain, never hear of the noble occurrences among 

 men of industry and humanity. 



Sleep. — There is no better description given 

 of the approach of sleep, than that in one of 

 Leigh Hunt's papers, in the Indicator : — " It is 

 a delicious movement certainly, that of being 

 well nestled in bed ; and feeling that you shall 

 drop gently to sleep. The good is to come, not 

 past; the limbs have been just tired enough to 

 render the remaining in one posture delightful; 

 the labor of the day is done. A gentle failure 

 of the perceptions comes creeping over; the spirit 

 of consciousness disengages itself more, and with 

 slow and hushing degrees, like a mother detach- 

 ing her hand from that of her sleeping child ; the 

 mind seems to have a balmy lid closing over it, 

 like the eye ; 'tis more closing — 'tis closed. The 

 mysterious spirit has gone to take its airy rounds." 



Genius. — Genius is the instinct of flight. A 

 boy came to Mozart, wishing to compose some- 

 thing, and inquiring the way to begin, Mozart 

 told him to wait. "Yon composed much earlier." 

 " But asked nothing about it," replied the musi- 

 cian. Cowper expressed the same sentiment to 

 a friend: — "Nature gives men a bias to their 

 respective pursuits, and that strong propensity, I 

 suppose, is what we mean by. genius." M. An- 

 gelo is hindered in his childish studies of art; 

 Eaffaelle grows up with pencil and colors for 

 playthings. One neglects school to copy draw- 

 ings, which he dared not to bring home; the 

 father of the other takes a journey to find his son 

 a worthier teacher. M. Angelo forces his, Eaf- 

 faelle is guided into it. But each looks for it 

 with longing eyes. In some way or other the 

 man is tracked in the little footsteps of the child. 



A Bong for January. 



By H. G. Adams. 



Fling sad memories to the wind, 



Wipe regretful tears away ; 

 Cast no ling'ring looks behind, 



Time will not his progress stay — 



Therefore now his call obey. 

 He hath turned another leaf, 



And he says, " make no delay ; 

 Write thereon "the hour is brief," 

 Quickly write " the hour is brief! " 



On the past we'll look no more, 



Unto most it is a page, 

 Sadly blurr'd and blotted o'er — 



As we pass from youth to age, 



Foolish thoughts our hearts engage; 

 And the record of our deeds 



Shames us in our moments sage. 

 Ground o'ergrown with noxious weeds, 

 Is that record of our deeds ! 



Now no more the mournful dirge 



Soundeth sadly on the ear; 

 With a bound we pass the verge 



Of the new and untried year; 



While the joy-bells ring out clear, 

 And the soul exultant springs 



Forward; and Hope hovers near, 

 Poised on outspread radiant wings ; 

 Yes, on rainbow-tinted wings. 



Fresh and fair the landscape lies, 



All o'erspread with spotless white ; 

 We have seen the young sun rise, 



Tinging it with roseate light. 



We have stepped from out the night 

 Of the tempest and the tomb, 



Into sunshine clear and bright. 

 Let us not, in love with gloom, 

 Turn again unto the tomb. 



Through a grand triumphal arch, 



Deck'd with glittering pinnacles, 

 Hath the year begun its march; 



Leaps the pulse, the bosom swells, 



As the music of the bells 

 Vibrates in the frosty air; 



And the bounding footstep tells 

 Health and youth are passing there, 

 Breathing free the cold, keen air. 



Lo! the snow-clad hills sublime, 

 Rise like pillars to the sky; 



They have, since the birth of Time, 

 Seen full many a year go by 

 With proud step and flashing eye; 



Smiling grim the while, as though 



They would say "Ah, courage high! 



Soon the lofty is brought low, 



And the quick step rendered slow !" 



London:— Published by George Berger, Holywell 

 Street, Strand (to whom' all Letters and Communica- 

 tions for the Editor, and Books for Review, are to be 

 forwarded), and Procurable, by order, of every Book- 

 seller and Newsvendor in the Kingdom. 



London : Myers & Co., Printers 22, Tavistock Street, Covent Garden. 



