Call him not a noble man,

Such existence is a shame;

span,

Soon will die his empty name. All things labour for our good, He who made us never sleeps; He who tills the ground for food, For his pains a harvest reaps. None who work need feel ashamed, While they do what good they can; 'Tis an honour to be named, As we toil," a working man."

EARLY RISING.

IR THOMAS MORE remarks, in the preface to his 66 Utopia," that he completed the work by stealing time from his sleep and meals. He made it his invariable practice to rise at four. The celebrated Dr. Doddridge mentions, in his "Family Expositor," that to his habit of early rising the world is indebted for nearly the whole of his works.

The well-known Bishop Burnet was an habitual early riser. When at college, his father aroused him to his studies every morning at four o'clock, and he continued the practice during the remainder of his life.

"I spent," says Dr. Paley, when giving an account of the

stantly in society, where we were not immoral, but idle and expensive. At the commencement of the third year, after having left the usual party at a late hour, I was awakened at five in the morning by one of my companions, who stood at my bedside, and said, 'Paley, I have been thinking what a fool you are. I could do nothing, probably, if I were to try; and I could afford the indolent life. you lead. You could do everything, and cannot afford it. I have had no sleep during the whole night on account of these reflections, and am now come solemnly to inform you that if you persist in your indolence, I must renounce your society.' I was so struck,' says Paley, "with the visit and the visitor, that I lay in bed great part of the day, and formed my plan. I ordered my bed-maker to lay my fire every evening, in order that it might be lighted by myself. I arose at five, read during the whole day, took supper at nine, went to bed, and have continued the practice up to this hour."

A

(LL night long sleet had fallen, covering everything with a coating of ice, and in the morning a light snow had succeeded, which seemed to make the roads even more slippery. Walking was almost impossible, and yet it appeared the safest mode of moving about after all, for the carriages slipped and swung from side to side in a way which was uncomfortable, not to say dangerous.

Just as the great churchclock struck eleven, two young girls came to the door of a large school, and commenced the rather perilous task of descending the high stone steps. After many slips and much laughter, they reached the pavement in safety, and walked away, clinging fast to each other. They were pretty, bright - looking girls, evidently the best of friends; and as they kept on

as young people usually do.

Why did you get excused this morning ?" asked the one whom her companion called Nannie.

"The hour for my musiclesson is changed," said the other, whose name was Lilie; "how did you get off?"

"I asked Miss V- to let me go home, as we are expecting an aunt of mother's, whom she hasn't seen since I was a baby; I suspect she is here now, for I heard the train some time ago."

"O, Nannie!" cried Lilie, suddenly, "just look at that old woman; did you ever see anything so funny?"

Going along a little distance before them was an elderly lady who really presented a most peculiar appearance. She was wrapped in an old-fashioned blue cloak, made with several capes, and her head was completely enveloped in a large green veil. She made many efforts to maintain her footing, throwing out her arms occasionally, in a fashion that seemed most ludicrous to the two girls behind her.

Suddenly Nannie's face grew sober; “ Lil," said she, "it's a shame to laugh at the old

poor

creature; suppose she were to fall."

Just here the old lady made another slip, and Lilie's muff went up to her mouth to smother her laugh, which nevertheless reached the lady's quick ear. "For shame, Lil!" said Nannie, indignantly, "she almost fell; I'm going to help her."

“Nannie Blake, you'll do nothing of the kind," said Lilie, grasping her arm; "a pretty figure you'd cut; and here come the Beverleys, too!"

"I don't care for all the Beverleys in the world," said Nannie, warmly; "only suppose that was my dear old grandmother, I'd want folks to be kind to her; so I'll do all I can for other people's grandmothers."

"Pardon me,” said a pleasant girlish voice beside the old lady, "but if you will take my arm, I think you will find that two are better than one on such a day as this."

"Thank you," ," said the lady, while a pair of bright eyes looked sharply through the old green veil ; "but perhaps we are not going the same way; I am going to Cedar-street."

'So am I," said Nannie; "I can take you there."

Then she linked the feeble old arm in her own, so young and strong; and they walked on together, talking pleasantly, paying no attention to the looks of surprise and amusement which were shown by some who passed them.

At last they came to a plain yet substantial house, at which Nannie paused.

"I am sure you must be tired," she said, "do come in and rest, and then I will take you home after that. I know my mother will be glad to see you."

A smile crossed the face hidden by the convenient green veil, while the old lady quietly said,

"Thank you, I will go in, for I am tired and cold."

O, my aunt has come!" cried Nannie, joyfully, stumbling over a large trunk, as she led her charge into the sitting

room.

"Mother," she began, in a half apologetic tone; but just then the old lady threw aside her veil; and, at the sight of the handsome, kindly face which appeared, Mrs. Blake gave a cry, and threw her arms around the stranger's neck. Stranger! No, indeed; not a stranger, but the dear aunt whom Mrs. Blake was accustomed to call her "other mother," and who was

"O, no!" said Nannie, springing gladly to her side, "but it all seems so strange."

"Well," said the old lady, “I saw a carriage waiting at the station that I thought was yours, but they all swung about so that I was afraid to trust myself in one. I therefore had my trunk put in a waggon, and started off on foot. I am heartily glad that I did so; for, Mary, I have learned that your daughter is worthy of her mother and grandmother.'

Then she told the whole story; and Mrs. Blake was very proud and thankful to find that her daughter had sacrificed her own pleasure and convenience for a seemingly friendless and forlorn old woman.

"What made you wear this?" asked Mrs. Blake, lifting the blue cloak which had fallen from her aunt's shoulders.

sure protection against pickpockets: but I think in future I shall value it more than any article I own; for it has given me a glimpse of my niece's character which but for it I might never have had."

THE STEAM-ENGINE: ITS HISTORY.

HAT wonderful triumph of human ingenuity, the steam engine, has reached its present state of perfection by slow and almost insensible steps. The first idea of employing steam as a source of motion, seems to have occurred to Heron, a philosopher of Alexandria, who flourished about forty years before the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. He introduced steam into a hollow globe, turning on an axis, and having two tubes standing out from its sides, through which the steam escaped into the surrounding air with such force that the resistance, or reaction, as it is called, made the globe turn round. One thousand six hundred years after Heron had made his experiments, Bianca, an Italian. published an account of another form of steam-engine, in which