

AUGUST, 1853, 

WHAT DO WE ALL LIVE FOR? 
Wuat’s “Lire?” At best a wandering breath ; 
When saddest, but a passing sigh ; 
When happiest, but a summer wreath— 
A sigh of roses floating by. 
CROLY. 

HEERFULNESS, IT Is WELL- 
KNOWN, IS THE CHARACTER- 
ISTIC FEATURE OF OUR LIFE. 
We hate long faces; and where- 
ever we find them, we zealously 
set to work to reduce them to 
the shortest possible length, 
in the quickest possible time. 
We do this on the great principle,—for in 
order to be “ happy” we must be cheerful. 
The one is the natural consequence of the 
other. In all that flows from our pen, we 
try to establish this truth. 
Yet with all our cheerfulness, let it not be 
imagined that we are, or can be, indifferent 
to the scenes that are daily passing around 
us, or that we fail to sympathise largely with 
what we are necessitated to witness in the 
way of sorrow. He who is the possessor of 
“a heart,” has enough to do, if he live in 
London, to control the emotions which that 
heart must feel between sunrise and the close 
of day. 
Tt may be said, that all people have hearts. 
They have truly; but all hearts are not 
tender alike. That which causes one to 
sigh, will more frequently produce merriment 
in another. We see this, whenever we walk 
abroad; and blush for our race. 
We have headed this paper—“ What do 
we all Live for?” We are not going to say 
what we all ought to live for. Our sentiments 
on this matter are impressed upon every 
page of OUR JOURNAL. We are going to 
speak of that which ts. 
At no season of the year more appropri- 
ately than the present, could we take obser- 
vations. Every street is full of life and 
motion; all the shops are attractively set 
out; every temptation that can catch the 
eye, and draw the purse-string, is exhibited 
in the windows. Let us watch the passers- 
by. The tempter has but to tempt, and his 
victim is bagged ! 

Vou. IV.—1. 
tokens excitement. 

Just now, amusements and excursions are 
the order of the day. We see multitudes of 
people flocking in all directions; commencing 
at early dawn to meet the various steam- 
boats and railway-trains. Every face be- 
All seem bent on plea- 
sure. If they have but one five-shilling-piece 
in the world, there are many we wot of who 
would spend it to its last farthing. This is 
to carry out their “ great principle,’—for, be 
it known, there zs a great principle attaching 
to all grades of society,—but whether a bad 
or a good principle, we do not say. 
Thought, reflection, prudence, economy, 
foresight—rule very little among “ the peo- 
ple’ in August. ‘ Fun” must be had. Care 
must be banished. ‘‘ The great folk have 
gone out of town, so must we.” And away 
they go! 
Now we are not against these amusements 
of the people. Far from it. We would pro- 
mote them to the fullest extent. We love to 
see all the world “ happy.’’ It is to the view 
they take of ‘happiness’’ that WE demur. 
We want to see their joys more natural, their 
ideas more rational, their description of a 
“pleasant day’’ a little more refined. At 
present — eating, drinking, smoking, and 
romping, are their swmmum bonum of enjoy- 
ment. 
As for the devotees of fashion,—our re- 
marks can never reach them. ‘They live 
for fashion only. ‘They care for nothing 
save appearances. ‘They do not deny it. 
We note their sufferings day after day, and 
smile at the ennuz which attends them in 
their strict routine of severe duties. They 
dwell in an atmosphere of their own. They 
are not free agents, but move quite at the 
will of others. Men, women, and children, 
pass us daily, whose countenances but too 
plainly indicate how unenviable is the life 
they lead. Hypocrisy,—conventional hypo- 
crisy,—sways every action of their life. They 
have a face for everybody (etiquette demands 
this), and are, we imagine, glad to tear off 
the mask at midnight. It must be a terrible 
part to play! Downright hard work. 
Drudgery. But let us proceed. 
Whilst those of whom we have been speak- 
ee a er 
B 
