Beginning. The first step towards accomplishment, which perseverance only can ensure. Behaviour. Pitch thy behaviour low, thy projects high: Cures both a fever and lethargicness.—Herbert. Belief. Were we to believe nothing but what we could perfectly comprehend, not only our stock of knowledge in all the branches of learning would be shrunk to nothing, but even the affairs of common life could not be carried on.-Tucker. -- Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door, Bending. The "first position" in the march of promotion. Benevolence. There cannot be a more glorious object in creation than a human being, replete with benevolence, meditating in what manner he might render himself most acceptable to his Creator, by doing most good to his creatures.-Fielding. Bereavement. Around my steps Floated his fame, like music, and I lived - Voice after voice hath died away, Sweet household name by name hath changed In dreams of night on each I call-- Each of the far removed And waken to my own wild cry, "Where are ye, my beloved ?"-Ibid. Sipping from the blossoms Of the perfumed breeze. Singing songs of gladness, Talking to each other In their mystic words; Tell me, don't you love them, Merry little birds? A. D. in Family Herald. The birds, great Nature's happy commoners, That haunt in woods, and meads, and flowery gardens, Birds-birds! ye are beautiful things, With your earth-treading feet and your cloud-cleaving wings; Ye have nests on the mountain, all rugged and stark, Ye build and ye brood 'neath the cottagers' eaves, And ye sleep on the sod 'mid the bonnie green leaves; Ye dive in the sweet flags that shadow the lake: Ye skim where the stream parts the orchard-decked land, Ye dance where the foam sweeps the desolate strand. Beautiful birds! ye come thickly around, When the bud's on the branch, and the snow's on the ground; Ye come when the richest of roses flush out, And ye come when the yellow leaf eddies about. Beautiful birds! how the schoolboy remembers The blackbird that whistled through flower-crowned June. That schoolboy remembers his holiday ramble, When he pulled every blossom of palm he could see, When his finger was raised as he stopped in the bramble With "Hark! there's the cuckoo; how close he must be !" Beautiful birds! we've encircled thy names With the fairest of fruits and the fiercest of flames. Till ye coo o'er its waters so sparkling and sweet; And where is the hand that would dare to divide Even Wisdom's grave self from the owl by her side? Beautiful creatures of freedom and light! Oh! where is the eye that groweth not bright Is the eloquent hymn of the beautiful bird !—Eliza Cook. Bird's-Nest. A natural egg-cup.-A cradle rocked by the wind.-A proof that luxury and expense are not required to form a comfortable home.-Small twigs turned to good account. Birth. I tell thee, then, whoe'er amidst the sons Of nature's own creating. Such have risen, - My boast is not that I deduce my birth Thomson. From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth; The son of parents passed into the skies.-Cowper. Birth-Day. "My birth-day!"-what a different sound When first our scanty years are told, Blest (The). Who are the blest? They who have kept their sympathies awake, And scattered joy for more than custom's sake; Gentle in thought, benevolent in deed, Whose looks have power to make dissension cease, |