How many stand
Around the death-bed of their dearest friends,
And point the parting anguish! Thought fond man
Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills,
That one incessant struggle render life--
One scene of toil, of suffering, and of fate,
Vice in its high career would stand appall'd,
And heedless, rambling impulse learn to think;
The conscious heart of Charity would warm,
And her wide wish Benevolence dilate;
The social tear would rise, the social sigh,
And into clear perfection gradual bliss,
Refining still, the social passions work.
THOMSON.
* * * * *
BRITISH TROOPS IN CANADA.
[Illustration: Letter R.]
Really winter in Canada must be felt to be imagined; and when felt can
no more be described by words, than colours to a blind man or music to a
deaf one. Even under bright sun-shine, and in a most exhilirating air,
the biting effect of the cold upon the portion of our face that is
exposed to it resembles the application of a strong acid; and the
healthy grin which the countenance assumes, requires--as I often
observed on those who for many minutes had been in a warm room waiting
to see me--a considerable time to relax.
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