ORIGINAL POETRY. THOUGHTS ON THE PASSING AWAY OF THE OLD YEAR. The bells with joyous pealing, Welcome the future year; The rapid flight of time. Ere ye have ceased your merry peal Say, what will that fresh year reveal? Welcome the new-born year: Will in its scenes appear? I breathe a fervent prayer: And every earthly care: And ruthless Time has mingled, The old year-with the Past. As if the presence of a single flower To wake such music now? Ah! the pure softness of her dark blue eye, And fragrant breath rejoice him with the hope That Nature is not dead, That Spring will come again, And, lavish-handed, fling o'er hill and dale O gentle bird! I would be still like thee; The flowers of life, and cloud With dark and threatening vapours all the sky; And calmly wait for that unfading Spring, PICA. RUTH. Entreat me not to leave thee, I cannot break the spel That binds our hearts together, by saying nov "Farewell!" Oh, no I will not leave thee, whate'er thy fat may be, Whither thou goest I will go,-my home shall b with thee. Thou sayest that the stranger's land is beautifu and fair, That Heaven hath pour'd its richest streams o joy and gladness there; But oh! the loveliest spot of earth would seem dreary place, If I could never hear thy voice, or see thy smiling face. Oh! no I cannot leave thee, be bright or drea your lot, I could not make a home on earth where, mother thou wert not; The fairest flowers would lose their charms, the sunniest lands their light, If thou couldst not be near to share their pleasures or delight. Oh! there may be a wealthier home with brighter THE OLD YEAR'S GRAVE. Go to the grave of the year that is past, And weep for the wasted days that have cast No light on life's stormy way; Weep for the words in thine anger sent, Weep for the hatred and discontent That swept thy pleasures away. Go to the grave of the year that has flown, Go, bury it deeply there. Come from the grave of the year that is gone, Come to the world with a loving heart, E. D. A. THE MONTHS. With us this is generally the month in which the landscape assumes its most wintry aspect, and the cold is most intense. There is deadness and desolation everywhere: all sounds are hushed, and busy trafie, if not stopped, passes along noiselessly over the snow-covered roads, like the figures in a dream, or phantasmagoria. Man and beast, one would think, move on, impelled by steam, for the condensed breath jets forth at every motion, and hangs about them in clouds "Like smoke-wreaths in the frosty air From the cottage roof up-curling." There is perhaps a leaden grey sky which hangs like a universal pall over the face of nature, and down by some heavy load of sorrow. heath it the spirits sink as though weighed Or perhaps the arch above is all clear crystaline blue, without peek or stain of any kind, except it be the crescent moon which stands out sharp and keen, and seems almost to cut the eye as you look upon steren when the sun is in the zenith you may attenuated features of some departed friend, looksee it, pale and ghost-like, reminding one of the ing sadly down from the spirit world. Then the landscape is truly glorious; the eaves of ANUARY, as the learned tell us, derives its name from the Latin Januarius, which again comes from Janus, the two-faced god, who had the happy art of looking both before and after, and was therefore chosen by NUMA, when he framed his calendar, as typical of the new year, which stands between the past and future, looking a sad farewell to the former, and smiling a welcome to the latter. May the bright anticipations with which our readers now enter upon this new era of their existence be realised, and may their memories of the past be, if not alto"A worthy leader of the changeful twelve That weave their annual garland round the sun." But nobody believes it to be any other than dreary, slushy, drizzly November, come back again like a ghost from the tomb, to make day as well as night hideous with clouds and fogs, and "ever-during dark." What a cruel disappointment is all this to boys "home for the holidays," who want to be skating, and sliding, and snow-balling, and building up snow men, and looking at frosted window panes, where branches, and leaves, and all graceful Horal shapes appear wrought in glittering silver. Oh, King Frost is a rare mimic, and worthy to be crowned monarch of the Mid-Winter. "He went to the windows of those who slept, Sometimes, however, we do get fine, bright bracing weather in January, and then it is pleasant "Where he to the open window comes the houses are fringed with icicles, and every tree, Seems to thank the inmates, with a weak but bush, and work, a bath robe powdered of dazzling whiteness sprinkled little brown wren, piping her perennial lay beneath the holly-bush; or the thrush on the leafless alder the keen east wind over the hill-tops, sweeping tree, sending out a few flute-like notes, as though the elevated roads bare of snow; and then "Tramp! tramp! a ringing sound- Houseless wretches crouch and quake. Oh! their cry of misery, Should the thoughtless thoughtful make." Sach is a genuine English January, "of the good old time" if our grandfathers tell us true. he were tuning his instrument, for the grand The spring chorus which by and by is to come. whistle of the blackbird, too, sometimes breaks suddenly forth; and the chirp of the sparrow comes from the hole in the thatch, where the titmouse is busy pulling out the straws to search for insects. Clouds of larks, linnets, fieldfares, and other gregarious birds, fly over the white fields, and settle in the hedges and about the stack-yards, and bang! sharp and short, rings out the death-shot to many of them. Such then is January, in our northern land; dreary and dull, at times, yet with bright intervals, frequently, now-a-days, we have a poor miserable when out-of-door pleasures and pursuits are postries to make us believe that he is the veritable and plays, Twelfth Night, and a host of agreeable Impostor, who comes to us under that name, and sible and pleasant. For the fireside it has sports Januarius, the primal month of the year, and games and occasions of festivity. BELLS. "Bow BELLS" are of olden celebrity: the Citizen's love of them led to persons born within their sound being called genuine "Cockneys." In 1469, by an Order of Common Council, Bow Bell was to be rung nightly at nine o'clock, and lights were to be exhibited in the steeple during the night, to direct the traveller towards the metropolis. The present Bells, bought by subscription, were first rung June 4, 1762, the birthday of George III. They are not allowed to be rung in the scientific method, but only in set changes, lest the vibr atio should cause the fall of the new spire! The twelve bells of St. Saviour's, Southwark, were not rung at the opening of New London Bridge, in 1831, on account of the alleged insecurity it would occasion to the tower. The tenor of this peal weighs 52 cwt.; that of Bow, 53 cwt. CHRISTCHURCH, Spitalfield's, BELLS are scarcely inferior to any in the kingdom; the tenor weighs 44 cwt., or 4,928 lbs. Occasionally, some fine feats of Bell-ringing are executed. On Monday evening, March 13, 1843, the Society of Cumberland rang a complete peal of Cinques on "Stedman's principle," consisting of 5,146 changes, in four hours, two minutes, at St. Bride's, Fleet Street; it being the first peal in that scientific method ever performed on the Bells. ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL has four Bells,-one in the northern, and three in the southern or clock-tower: the former is tolled for prayer three times a-day, and has a clapper; but neither of the four can be raised upon end and rung, as other church bells. In the clock-tower are hung two Bells for the quarters, and above them is hung the Great Bell, on gudgeons or axles, on which it moves when struck by the hammer of the clock. It weighs 11,474 lbs., and its diameter is nine feet. It was cast principally from the metal of the Bell in the clock-tower opposite Westminster Hall Gate, which, before the Reformation, was named "Edward," after the Royal Confessor; subsequently to the time of Henry VIII., as appears by two lines in Eccles's Glee, it was called "Great Tom," as Gough conjectures, by a corruption of "Grand Ton," from its deep, sonorous tone. On August 1, 1698, the clochard, or clock-tower, was granted by William III. to St. Margaret's parish, and was taken down; when the Bell was found to weigh 82 cwt. 2 qrs. 21 lbs., and was bought at 10d. per lb., producing 3857. 17s. 6d., for St. Paul's. While being conveyed over the boundary of Westminster, under Temple Bar, it fell from the carriage; it stood under a shed in the Cathedral Yard for some years, and was at length re-cast, with additional metal, in 1716, the inscription stating it to have been "brought from the ruins of Westminster." "The key-note (tonic) or sound of this Bell is A flat, (perhaps it was A natural, agreeably to the pitch at the time it was cast,) but the sound heard at the greatest distance is that of E flat, or a fifth above the key-note; and a musical ear, when close by, can perceive several harmonic sounds."(W. Parry). The Great Bell is never usel, except for striking of the hour, and for tolling at the deaths and funerals of any of the Royal Family, the Bishop of London, the Dean of the Cathedral, and the Lord Mayor, should he die in his mayoralty. The same hammer which strikes the hours has always been used to toll the Bell, on the occasion of a demise; but the sound produced on the latter occasions is not so loud a when the hour is struck, in consequence of the heavy clock-weight not being attached when the Bell is tolled, and causing the hammer to strik with greater force than by manual strength. It was the Westminster "Great Tom" which the sentinel on duty at Windsor Castle, during the reign of William III., declared to have struck thirteen instead of twelve times at midnight, and thus cleared himself of the accusation by the relief-guard of sleeping upon his post. The story is told of St. Paul's Bell. CHIMES. The only Chimes now existing in the metropolis are those of St. Clement Danes, in the Strand; St. Giles's, Cripplegate; and St. Dionis, Fenchurch Street. The Cripplegate Chimes are the finest in London; they were constructed by a poor working man. Formerly, several churches in London, including those of St. Margaret and St. Sepulchre, had chime-hammers annexed to their bells. In each Royal Exchange, the business has been regulated by a bell: in Gresham's original edifice was a tower" containing the bell, which twice a-day summoned merchants to the spot-at twelve o'clock at noon, and at six o'clock in the evening."(Burgon's Life and Times of Sir T. Gresham, ÏÏ. 345.) The Chimes at the Royal Exchange, destroyed by fire in 1838, played, at intervals of three hours, "God save the Queen," "Life let us che rish," the old 104th Psalm (on Sundays,) and "There's nae luck about the house," which last air they played at twelve o'clock on the night of the fire, just as the flames reached the chime-loft. In the new Exchange, Chimes have not been forgotten. The airs have been arranged by Mr. E. Taylor, the Gresham Professor of Music; which Mr. Dent has applied on the Chime-barrel. The airs are: 1. A Psalm tune, by Henry Lawes, the friend of Milton; it is in the key of B flat, so as to exhibit the capability of the chimes to play in different keys. 2. God save the Queen, in E flat. 3. Rule Britannia. 4. An air selected by Professor Taylor to exhibit the power of the bells. The key in which the bells are set is E flat. There are fifteen bells, and two hammers to several, so as to play rapid passages. There are frequently three hammers striking different bells simultaneously, and sometimes five. The notes of the bells are as follow: B flat, A natural, A flat, G, F, E flat, D natural, D flat, C, B flat, A natural, A flat, G, F, and E flat. The first bell, B flat, weighs 4 cwt. 26 lbs., and its cord, 8 cwt. 2 qrs. 5 lbs. The four bells, A flat, G, F, and E flat, weigh severally, 10 cwt. 1 qr. 9 lbs., 12 cwt. 2 qrs. 27 lbs., 15 cwt. 2 qrs. 14 lbs., and 23 cwt. 2 qrs. 24 lbs. The united weight of them is 131 cwt. 1 qr. They were cast by Messrs. Mears, of Whitechapel.-Curiosities of London. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF THE COUNCIL-By your good leare, it is your President's intention to inaugurate the New Year (may it be a happy one to all of you,) by opening a new mental exercise, one which, he trusts, will prove as interesting and profitable to the Council as the De-finitions have done. Indeed, the exercise he is about to submit, properly flows out of the definitions, and will bea test whereby we may prove the true value they have been to the members. We intend to form a Council of LETTER WRITERS. Every one writes letters-every one feels and knows how worthy of careful culture that art is which is daily required in our business dealings-in our social life-in our friendly relations-and in our A poetical fable.-C. J. D. Truth in fancy dress. HELENA H., LINA, H. L. B., ADELAIDE, and FRITZ. A simile which, if "I" were not present, would give rise to a smile.-E. G. W. The shadow of truth cast by the rays of sublime thought falling upon the substance of fact.J. H. I. A metaphysical panorama.-W. Y. S. The actual and ideal so merged as to throw full meaning of life and spirit on each other.-J. T. Peter's vision of the unclean beasts.-AGNESE. A veil of fiction thrown lightly over the sublimity of truth.-A. H. Wisdom made easy.-DEVIS. The picture-book from which men learned wisdom when the world was young.-A. M. H. Pleasure and profit combined.-H. D. A beautiful chain composed of alternate links from heaven and earth.-DOLL. A widow saying to an old bachelor "'tis sad to pass through life alone."-C. M. A land the poet loves to wander inM. BLUE BELL. Faith in a young lady's declaration "that & never intends to marry."-H. L. B. Paterfamilias believing the assertion that daughter's dresses contain the same number yards now as before crinoline was in fashion. DAISY. Watching the bright sparks in a candle, a believing it will prove the letter of to-morrow. M. A. B. A house built upon the sand.-FRITZ. A weed which withers when it grows on t highway of life.-A. M. H. Believing your tradesman when, upon offering settle his account, he tells you "it is not of t slightest consequence."-JOHANNES. Imagining young children amuse your guests. FANCHETTE. Fancying the income-tax will ever be repealed. GRUB. A sweet bairnie kissin' the hand whilk gies poison.-ELSPIE. Believing a maiden lady of forty when she te how many offers she has had.-G. M. B. CREDULITY. A mind without a sentinel at the door.H.C.N. Rubbing a board over with bear's grease, with the idea that hair would grow upon it.G. M. F. G. The letter-box of the mind, which receives without inquiry whatever any one throws into it.-PICA. A refractory child being quieted by the announcement that "Bogy" is coming.-RICARDO. Getting into a Chancery suit, and believing you will ever get out again.-FRANK C. Suspicion blindfolded.-A. C. M. J-LL. MISERY. The state of the mind after witnessing a to fidential friend paying his addresses to your t trothed.-G. M. F. G. Walking over a Macadamized road in tight sho with corns on the toes.-IAGO. Listening to an amusing description of t gaities and flirtations of your absent loser.-ŘICA The gambler's home.-RICARDO. Love supplanted by friendship.-CAPTAIN J. E Having to look for your nightcap on a 00 The trout greedily seizing the angler's fly. night after having put the light out.-W. H. C. M. E. T. Having faith in the assurance of your hostess that it "does not matter," or "tis of no consequence," after treading on her best carpet with dirty shoes.-MARSDEN. Implicitly following a quack's directions, and expecting physical amendment.--NORMAN. The state of the temple of the mind when the judgment has gone out and left the doors and windows open.-G. G. Baron Munchausen's audience.-F. J. P. A woman's belief in a draper's " awful sacrifice." -SOUFFRE DOULEUR and F. J. P. A young lady believing all her lover tells her. MAB. Believing a lady's account of her age.-LOUISA K. Faith in dreams.-A. S. Believing half what you hearLILLY A. A young girl's belief in the fortune-teller.M. W. M. The beasts which expected their share of the carcase when the lim was by-ALPHA. Eve listening to the tempter:ELLA E. The simple habit some too-oft display, of swallowing whatever others say.-C. W. F. The delight of a "cheap John" at a country fair.-C. J. D. Dyeing your hair at night with highly-recon mended dye in hopes of its being in the mornin a dark brown, and finding it a bright green. FRANK C. A family of twelve trying to exist on the ear ings of one.-POOR JACK. The test of friendship.-M. W. M., and A. M. H The drunkard's home.-THETA, A. S., DELT BUL-BUL, and M. E. T. To be pursued by a mad bull, to rush down lane and find it a cul-de sac.-Moss-ROSE. The feelings of Madame de la Betise on findin that she had forgotten to boil her plum-pudding i a cloth.-MARSDEN. The feelings of a young lady on hearing tha her "dear cousin" was bound for Australia.LOUEY. Cæsar discovering his "Son Brutus" in one his murderers.JULIUS CÆSAR. The British army in the Crimea during the winter of 1854.-H. L. G. D. The darkness which follows when the last ray of hope is extinguished.-G. G. Forgetting your umbrella, and having to put up with the drippings from your friend's.-Dox. A state too frequently induced by our own follies. The heiress believing her suitor to be influenced-Dox. by cupid, not cupidity.-HELENA H. The sparrow hatching the eggs of the cuckoo.— W, Y. T. An instrument played upon so easily that it requires no teaching to discover defective points.LINA. The first awakening after a heavy calamity. ELISE. A veil through which the world can see our errors, but seldom discover our virtues.-M. W. M. Seeing a beloved child in agony, and can do nothing to relieve it, CATIE. |