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world, consists in their being objects of from human misfortunes, which confer happipursuit that possession takes away the ness; but that it must be successfully sought, greatest value from whatever we covet, the by a firm and unwearied course of conduct, place of which is succeeded by a fresh phantom, by reducing the scale of our expectations, and to be alike followed and disregarded-yet acting so as to find pleasure in recollection, these are deductions which men seldom make: rather than in anticipation; he would, natuon this point continual experience fails of rally and justly, be led to conclude, that the producing any conviction. man who had lived a life which he was Numbers, therefore, would think, that the willing to repeat, must have made use of man, who, at the close of a long life was every fault, as a beacon, whereby to guide willing to return to the starting place, and to his steps from a similar error; must, as he measure his course again, must have possessed lived, have grown wiser, therefore happier; what even they may at the present moment and must have enjoyed all the pleasing recoldesire; and, resting upon this assumption with lection of having, during his past life, whenas unlimited confidence as if it were incon-ever circumstances allowed him, been useful testibly proved by the fullest knowledge of to his fellow creatures. To the man who his life, would urge the chase with a speed reasoned thus, Franklin's life would be of redoubled by the idea, that the prize for inestimable value; there would he see the which they contended had, in this instance, conclusion of all his views on this subject, and conferred full happiness. Nor would they have before his eyes a forcible example, that, change their mode of reasoning, if success in not upon any series of events which man can the pursuit should show them its fallacy; and never control, but upon rational principles though, when satiated with the enjoyment of of action, firmly adopted, depends the happitheir wishes, they started again, untired, and ness of life. full of hope, in some fresh chase, they would conclude themselves mistaken: yet they would perpetuate the error by making the second object of pursuit, in its turn, the summum bonum.

But some would adopt a different opinion, who, wearied with continued endeavors, had, late in life, been, by successive disappointments, driven from all hope of success; and in despair, ceased every effort to obtain happiness, and were ready to join Amavia, when

"But if that careless Heaven (quoth she) despise
The doom of just revenge, and take delight
To see sad pageants of men's miseries,
As bound by them to live in life's despight.
Yet can they not warn death from wretched wight.
Come then, come soon, come sweetest death to me,
And take away this long lent loathed light:
Sharp be thy wounds, but sweet the medicines be
That long captived souls from weary thraldom free."

They would conclude that Franklin must
have been highly favored by fortune, and
have met with but few of the misfortunes
incident to human life.

But those who advocated the groundless opinions which we noticed above, would, although they read his life, fail to perceive the necessary connection between reason and happiness; and driven from every other hold, would stoutly maintain, that Franklin was of a particularly happy temperament, that he felt not the ills of life; for them, poor souls, "framed of tender stuff." "His they are passions and feelings," they would say, "must have been very sluggish-he must have been very cold. We are of a warmer temperature; our feelings and passions hurry us away with irresistible impulse." I do not know, whether I would, if I could, be one of those cool men. Such seem to attach ideas of energy, of mental superiority, to those who are the slaves of every present impression. But these are errors as deep as they are dangerous, In asserting and maintaining an habitual command over ourselves; in restraining, but not extinguishing, our feelings, lies the whole secret of happiness. Allowing for every difference of natural constitution, there are, to every man, allotted, in an abundant degree, the means of effecting this. No man has, I

Very different would be the inference of the man of reason, who was accustomed to act from principle, and not from impulse. Know-believe, passions or feelings so strong, that ing from experience, that it is not the enjoyment of ideal pleasures, nor any exemption

they may not, by the determined and timely use of proper means, be so far brought inte

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subjection, as is desirable, for "it is the business of reason to moderate, not to extinguish, the passions." On all, then, who read, and particularly on the young, whose dispositions are as yet ductile, and the task comparatively easy, would I wish earnestly to impress that they, and they alone, can make or mar their own happiness. To those who indulge a rational desire for that which their own efforts, rightly directed, will certainly secure, I would recommend Franklin's Journal of his own Life as a most useful work. Thence they may learn to reason, and "on reason build resolve." Let them, with Rasselas, discover that what cannot be repaired is not to be regretted; that our past errors may, if rightly managed, be of more use to us than our good actions.

Let them not despair at the former, or be puffed up with the latter; but endeavor to correct what is wrong, and improve what is right. Nor are those studies which strengthen the mind andconfirm its powers to be neglected; for to those who would live happily they are of infinite importance. Such must seek their recreation in mental, and not in sensual pleasures; the former exalt, the latter debase and enervate our nature. On the exaltation of our nature, on our hopes and fears being lifted beyond this transient world, depends, after all, much of what men call happiness.

Here the candles appeared, and their light broke the train of my thoughts; so I resolved, that my next retrospect should boast a brighter character, being convinced that it depended upon myself; and under this impression I sat down to prepare this paper for the Anglo.

TO THE DYING YEAR.

Fare, fare thee well, thou dying Year!
Thy parting knell is rung,
And the tear-drop glistens on thy bier,
With cypress boughs o'erhung.

Thy birth with smiles was ushered in,
And feast, and festal rout;
And merry bells, with joyous din,

From spire and tow'r rung out.
And mirth and music blest the hour,
And many a legend wild
Bade grief resign her wonted power,
While love exulting smil'd.

And meeting hands, and sparkling eyes,
Made glad thy natal day;
And withering care, and mourning sighs,
Were banished far away!

Now at thy close, how changed the scene!
The festal rout is o'er,

And the merry bells, with joyous din,
Peal forth, alas, no more!

And the lov'd and lover both are gone,
And the mourner weeps alone;
And the green grass waves o'er many a one,
That joyous, hailed thy dawn!

And the hoary head by youth is laid,

And the smiling babe at rest,
Sleeps the last sleep, ere woe might fade,
Or rend its sinless breast!

And blessed they thus early ta'en,

The infant cherub blest, Betime snatched from a life of pain, And borne to endless rest!

Yet still will pitying Nature weep

Beside the daisied sod;

But blest, thrice blest are they who sleep In the bosom of their God!

Thou dying Year! thy sunny days,
But few and brief have been;
And Memory turns her tearful gaze
On many a fitful scene!

And blighted bopes, and broken faith,
A sad and dismal train;
All, all that fate inflicts in wrath,
Revive to wound again!

And, oh! amid remembrance drear, Scarce blooms one little flower;One brightening ray the heart to cheer In retrospection's hour!

Thou dying Year, now past away,

With time before the flood!
Thy mourning rites, and festal gay,
Thy evil, and thy good!

Thou dying year, my farewell take!
'T may be, perchance, my last;
And stranger hands the lyre may wake,
That consecrates the past.

And if decreed the coming year,

Death's messenger must be;

I will not shed one coward tear,
To die is to be free!

COUNTRY SKETCHES:-SCUGOG AND have been useless. The proprietors therefore, of two evils, chose the less, and put up with the luss.

ITS VICINITY.

BEARING in mind the old proverb, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," we propose to vary our illustrations with occasional sketches of country scenery, and have selected, as a commencement, Lake Scugog and its vicinity. We mean by our quotation that having, for eighteen months, devoted our attention exclusively to sketches of cities or towns in British North America, for the purpose of showing the rapid increase and prosperity of these Provinces, it is now expedient to show that there are nooks and scenes in the country worth visiting for pleasure alone or what is better in this utilitarian age, spots, a visit to which will combine both profit and pleasure. We begin by a short extract:-"The artist recommends parties intending pic-nics next spring to think of Lake Scugog and its vicinity. Whitby is easily reached by steamer, and Lake Scugog is only nineteen miles to the north, with a very good road." We find further that accomodation will not be found wanting, as our artist goes on to say, "I stayed at Jewett's house, and must say that I have been rarely better treated, or more moderately charged.

"Port Perry is a thriving village with several saw-mills, and the tourist will be surprised to see so flourishing a place, where he expected, most probably, to find naught save nature in her wildest garb. Lake Scugog, or the larger portion of it, as it at present exists, has been artificially made; the formation of the dam at Lyndsay, many years ago, raised the water and forced it back over the land, thus flooding a large tract of country. From this cause the Jake has not yet been properly delineated on any map, all, hitherto published, having been copied from the original plans of the surveyors. "At the time these townships were surveyed, what constitutes the southern portion of Lake Scugog was dry land. The back country being but thinly settled, it was sometime before the mischief was discovered, when legal proceedings were instituted by the owners of the property, and the dam was ordered to be lowered two feet. This checked the rise of water to some extent, but the mill was required to supply the necessities of the country, and without the dam the mill would

"The Island of Scugog is, strange to say, not mentioned by Smith, in his Canada, although it is a prominent feature in the scenery around Port Perry. It is, I should think, about one hundred feet above the level of the lake; on it there are some well-cleared farms, and it is well covered with hardwood mixed with some pine. The little steamer, Woodman, plies between Port Perry and Lyndsay, so that the tourist may visit both places, and if time permit, he should also visit the thriving little village of Prince Albert. The Indian name Scugog, or as the Indians pronounce it Scu-a-gog, implies submerged or flooded land.”

ECCLESIASTICAL ARCHITECTURE

VILLAGE CHURCHES.

In no class of edifices do we find the simple poetry of Architecture better expressed than in the ancient village churches of England. There is a beauty about those venerable fabrics, not easily described, but which is recognised as well by the untutored as the most learned in architectural science. Local associations, it is true, as well as pictorial predilections, may greatly enhance the effect with the mass of admirers; but there is an intrinsic power, so to speak, in the architectural composition of most of those edifices highly calculated to produce a strong impression on the mind. The men who fabricated those ancient fanes could give an expression to the mere exterior outline of their buildings capable of striking awe and wonder into the minds of the rude and unlettered, while around and within, the walls, the roof, the pavement, and other parts spoke volumes to the learned in architectural symbolism.

There is a wide distinction to be observed in the architectural characteristics of various sized churches, each having its peculiar style of beauty. Though the majestic grandeur of the vast cathedral may be more striking than the simple dignity of the village church. We admire the former only as the sublime canon. ization of art, while the latter appears to us the spontaneous creation of nature. This

difference is not one of mere scale and propor- Plate-traceried windows, with quatrefoil pierction. The integral parts of each may seem ings, splayed mullions and hoods, indicate the identical and capable of transposition, yet it severity of the style. The grouping is admiwould be grotesque in the extreme either to rably calculated to produce that kind of archmagnify the size and proportions of an ordiitectural effect usually termed picturesque. nary village church to that of some "mighty This is not effected, however, at the exminster," or to make our village churches assume the form of miniature cathedrals.

pense of truth. We see no member of the design that could be omitted. Indeed there are some features that are often looked upon as essential to a Gothic edifice, which are in this case (with a solitary exception) dispensed with. We see enough, however, to convince us that the Architect knows the proper use of those valuable adjuncts.

We find a solitary buttress-the only one, we believe about the building, doing important duty at the south-east corner of the nave. On inquiring what it is about, we shall find that opposite this point is the great chancel arch, which, not being a lath and plaster sham, but a veritable arch, of solid masonry, requires considerable support to prevent its spreading. Hence the massive buttress which forms part of its abutment on one side; the tower giving its support on the other.

Now, in the whole range of Canadian Ecclesiology, we shall scarce find a professedly Gothic church true to the type of its class in those respects. When we do happen to meet with fair proportions and good outline from a respectably pitched roof, we are almost certain to find the details exaggerated, perhaps borrowed from another edifice ten times its size. The building which, in other respects, would be tolerable, is simply marred by incongruity of proportions. Such is the case also with every feature of the building which is unfitted by form or dimensions for its proper destination. We frequently see, for example, an erection perched on one end of the roof of a church, too large to be meant for a bellcot, and too small for a steeple; but an evident apology for the latter. The roof not Buttresses, when massive and well proporbeing a proper or secure support for a tower, tioned, add much to the effect of a Gothic edisuffers in effect from the imposition. The fice in a pictorial point of view. The light mind of the observer becomes exclusively oc- and shade which they give is a great relief to cupied by this one deformity, and receives an a blank wall. Still it would not be legitimate impression which no subordinate part, how-to construct these merely for the sake of

ever beautiful in itself, can efface.

Of a totally different character, however, is

effect.

Among the Sussex churches, we find many the new church about to be built at Bramp-beautiful examples without a single buttress,

ton, a sketch of which we engrave in our present Number from the designs of Mr. Hay.

unless, it may be, as in the case pointed out, where a heavy lateral thrust has to be overcome. Then we find a plain, undisguised mass of masonry of the proper form and strength to effect its object, diminished in

The whole aspect of this church is unmistakeably English. We have here no ginger bread work, no gimcrackery, no useless pinnacles to give a trumpery effect to a common-stages as the necessity for resistance becomes place erection; but a substantial looking edi- less, and having its surfaces most exposed to fice with low walls and high pitched roof, the weather, moulded to the best possible form giving a bold and fearless outline, expressive for throwing off the wet. Hence we have an at once of dignity and humility, to which the object at once beautiful from its appropriate low-roofed porch adds effect. The tower stands character and fitness. Used in this way, an as it ought, upon its own base. It is a mas-ordinary architectural feature becomes doubly sive structure, indicative of strength. The interesting from the palpable meaning it conplain broach spire by which it is surmounted, tapers gracefully to a point to which the prin- Accustomed though we are to the use of cipal lines in the picture seem to converge. buttresses in almost every new church in the The style of this building is the early mid-revived style of English architecture, we do dle pointed, or the latest phase of early Eng- not miss them in that of Brampton. Indeed lish-a style sometimes termed "transition." such a church would probably suffer in pic

veys.

turesque effect from their use in any large measure. They are expensive things, too, and sometimes difficult to keep in repair, being like all similar projections, liable to be affected by wet and frost. But while they ought not to be dispensed with in large buildings, where the walls are lofty and have to sustain great outward pressure from the roof, in a simple village church where the walls

of using stone, it is better to be content with
single perforations for the windows after the
Nothing is
manner of the early English.
more offensive to good taste than a want of
truthfulness in ecclesiastical design.

THE CHRONICLES OF DREEPDAILY.
No. XIX.

are low and strong in proportion to the size TREATING OF SUNDRY LITTLE MATTERS, calcuof the building, their absolute use is not essential.

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LATED AT ONCE TO DELECTIFY AND INSTRUCT
THE DISCREET STUDENT
UNSUR
OF THESE
PASSED RECORDS.

THOUGH I would willingly have lengthened out
my sojourn with the hospitable denizens of Peter-
head, a variety of considerations constrained me
to think seriously of retracing my steps to Dreep-
daily.

In the first place, tidings reached me that I had been summoned to attend the ensuing sederunt at Ayr of the Circuit Court of Justiciary, in the capacity of juryman. This requisition of his

The church is to accommodate 270 persons gracious Majesty I might, indeed, have eluded on and to cost £1,500.

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In this country where woodwork is comshould paratively cheap and masonry dear, we have better and cheaper fabrics by letting the wooden element enter more largely into the composition of our ecclesiastical edifices than is generally done. A steep roof is the beauty of a Gothic church. In the early English styles, the outline of the roof usually formed the two sides of an equilateral triangle. With a roof of this pitch, or even somewhat less, the walls need not be higher for rural churches than from nine to twelve feet, as the whole

the score of absence, without subjecting myself
to the pains and penalties denounced against
contumacious recusants. From my youth up-
wards, however, I had (as previously intimated
in these Chronicles) taken a deep interest in the
sayings and doings of criminals, and there was
something peculiarly juicy and appetizing in the
idea of acting as a judicial investigator of their
exploits. It was next in dignity to occupying
the bench itself, and for that matter it may be
fairly questioned whether the jury are not entitled
to be regarded as playing the first fiddle. To
quote a verse of one of Sir Alexander Boswell's
songs-

"Awa," cried the angry Judge, “awa
Wi' the knave to the gallows tree!"
But the burly jurymen said "Na!".
And jingling Jock went free!

There was another reason which made me un

space within the roof may be gained by making willing to prolong my absence from home, and the external boarding of the roof, also the ceiling of the church.

that was the unorthodox and unsavoury manner in which my representative, Job Sheepshanks, had been of late conducting himself.

While advocating the extension of the wooden element. We are not to be supposed Having met with a disappointment in love, Job as approving its application to illegitimate (as Mr. Paumie certiorated me) had transferred uses, such as the mullions and tracery of the his devotion from the shrine of Venus to that of windows of a stone or brick church. The Bacchus. In plain English, he had been upon mullions and tracery of pure ecclesiastical the "spree" for nearly three weeks, to the no edifices are essentially a portion of the wall, small peril, as may readily be imagined, of the and had their origin in thinning and perfor-throats and craniums of the lieges who put themating that part, for the purpose of admitting selves at the mercy of his professional weapons. light. When circumstances will not admit One of his misadventures the dominie communi

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