THE WORLD A PASSING SHOW. THIS world is all a fleeting show, For man's illusion given; There's nothing true but Heaven! And false the light on glory's plume, And love, and hope, and beauty's bloom, Poor wanderers of a stormy day, From wave to wave we're driven; A NEWCASTLE COAL-PIT. MOORE I WILL now describe to you our visit to one of the coalpits in the neighbourhood of Newcastle. The first cerecovered us all mony was to put on a kind of frock, that over, to prevent spoiling our clothes. We were then shown a large steam-engine at work at the mouth of the pit in order to drain off the water, and close to it a ventilator for purifying the air. Our guides now seated us on a piece of board, slung in a rope like the seat of a swing and hooked to an iron chain, which was let gently down the pit by the assistance of six horses. I must confess I did not like this mode of travelling; my spirits, however, were cheered when I reached the solid bottom, and saw my good friend Mr Franklin with a smiling face at my side. He congratulated me on my arrival, and pointed to a huge fire burning for the purpose of keeping the air in a proper temperature. Gaining courage by a near examination, my brother and I walked about the chambers with as much ease as if they had been the apartments of a dwelling-house. The coal is hollowed out in spaces of four yards wide, between which are left pillars of coal to support the roof, ten yards broad and twenty deep. A number of horses live here for years together, and seem to enjoy perfect comfort: they are employed to draw the coal through the passages to the bottom of the opening of the pit. The machine which raises the coal to the surface of the earth is worked by stout horses. The coal is brought in strong baskets made of osier; they each contain twelve hundred weight of coal, and one ascends while the other descends. A single man receives these baskets as they arrive, and places them on a dray, having hooked an empty basket on in the place of a full one, before he drives the dray to a shed at a little distance, where he empties his load. The dust passes through holes prepared to receive it, whilst the large coal roll down the declivity in heaps, where they are loaded in waggons, and carried to wharfs on the river-side, to be put on board the vessels that wait to carry them to distant ports. The waggons, very heavily laden, run without horses to the water-side, along a rail-road formed in a sloping direction, with grooves that fit the waggon-wheels to make them go more readily. WAKEFIELD'S Family Tour. SELF-DENIAL. THE clock had just struck nine, and Harry recollected that his mother had desired them not to sit up a minute after the clock struck. He reminded his elder brother of this order. "Never mind," said Frank, "here's a famous fire, and I shall stay and enjoy it."-"Yes," said Harry, "here's a famous fire, and I should like to stay and enjoy it; but that would not be self-denial, would it, Frank ?"-" Nonsense,' ," said Frank, "I shall not stir yet, I promise you."-" Then good-night to you,' said Harry. Six o'clock was the time at which the brothers were expected to rise. When it struck six the next morning, Harry started up; but the air felt so frosty that he had "But no," a strong inclination to lie down again. thought he, "here is a fine opportunity for self-denial;" and up he jumped without farther hesitation. "Frank, Frank," said he to his sleeping brother, "past six o'clock, and a fine starlight morning."-"Let me alone," cried Frank, in a cross, drowsy voice." Very well, then, a pleasant nap to you," said Harry, and down he ran as gay as the lark. After finishing his Latin exercise, he had time to take a pleasant walk before breakfast; so that he came in fresh and rosy, with a good appetite, and, what was still better, in a good humour. But poor Frank, who had just tumbled out of bed when the bell rang for prayer, came down, looking pale, and cross, and cold, and discontented.-Harry, who had some sly drollery of his own, was just beginning to rally him on his forlorn appearance, when he recollected his resolution, "Frank does not like to be laughed at, especially when he is cross," thought he, so he suppressed his joke; and it requires some self-denial even to suppress a joke. During breakfast his father promised that if the weather continued fine, Harry should ride out with him before dinner on the grey pony. Harry was much delighted with this proposal; and the thought of it occurred to him very often during the business of the morning. The sun shone cheerily in at the parlour windows, and seemed to promise fair for a fine day. About noon, however, it became rather cloudy, and Harry was somewhat startled to perceive a few large drops upon the flag-stones in the court. He equipped himself, nevertheless, in his great coat at the time appointed, and stood playing with his whip in the hall, waiting to see the horses led out. His mother now passing by, said, "My dear boy, I am afraid there can be no riding this morning: do you see that the stones are quite wet ?"-"Dear mother," said Harry, "you surely do not imagine that I am afraid of a few drops of rain; besides, it will be no more than a shower at any rate." Just then his father came in, who looked first at the clouds, then at the barometer, and then at Harry, and shook his head. "You intend to go, рара, don't you ?" said Harry." I must go, I have business to do; but I believe, Harry, it will be better for you to stay at home this morning," said his father."But, Sir," repeated Harry, " do you think it possible, now, that this little sprinkling of rain should do me the least harm in the world, with my great coat and all ?”"Yes, Harry," said his father, "I do think that even this sprinkling of rain may do you harm, as you have not been quite well: I think, too, it will be more than a sprinkling. But you shall decide on this occasion for yourself; I know you have some self-command. I shall only tell you, that your going this morning would make your mother uneasy, and that we both think it improper; -now determine." Harry again looked at the clouds, at the stones, at his boots, and last of all at his kind mother, and then he recollected himself. "This," thought he, " is the best opportunity for self-denial that I have had to-day;" and he immediately ran out to tell Roger that he need not saddle the grey pony. 66 “I should like another, I think, mother," said Frank that day at dinner, just as he had despatched a large hemisphere of mince pie. Any more for you, my dear Harry," said his mother.- "If you please ;-no, thank you, though,” said Harry, withdrawing his plate," for,” thought he, "I have had enough, and more than enough, to satisfy my hunger; and now is the time for self-denial." "Brother Harry," said his little sister after dinner, "when will you show me how to do that pretty puzzle you said you would show me a long time ago?"" I am busy now, child," said Harry, "don't tease me now; there's a good girl." She said no more, but looked disappointed, and still hung upon her brother's chair.“Come, then," said he, suddenly recollecting himself, bring me your puzzle," and laying down his book, he very good-naturedly showed his little sister how to place it. That night, when the two boys were going to bed. Harry called to mind, with some complacency, the several instances in the course of the day in which he had exercised self-denial, and he was on the very point of communicating them to his brother Frank. "But no," thought he, "this is another opportunity still for self-denial; I will not say a word about it; besides, to boast of it would spoil all." So Harry lay down quietly, making the following sage reflections:- "This has been a pleasant day to me, although I have had one great disappointment, and done several things against my will. I find that self-denial is painful for a moment, but very agreeable in the end; and, if I go on this plan every day, I shall stand a good chance of leading a happy life.” JANE TAYLOR. THE ORPHAN-BOY'S TALE. STAY, lady! stay for mercy's sake, Poor foolish child! how pleased was I The people's shouts were long and loud,- "Oh! why do tears steal down your cheek," |