In going upon the road, in the United States, it is looked upon as a sort
of slur on one, if another pass him, going in the same direction; and this
folly prevails to as great a degree as amongst our break-neck coachmen;
and you will see an old Quaker, whom, to look at, as he sits perched in
his wagon, you would think had been cut out of stone a couple of hundred
years ago; or hewed out of a log of wood, with the axe of some of the
first settlers--if he hear a rattle behind him, you will see him gently
turn his head; if he be passing a tavern at the time he pays little
attention, and refrains from laying the whip upon the "creatures," seeing
that he is morally certain that the rattler will stop to take "a grog" at
the tavern; but if no such invitation present itself, and especially if
there be a tavern two or three miles a-head, he begins immediately to make
provision against the consequences of the impatience of his rival, who, he
is aware, will push him hard, and on they go as fast as they can scamper,
the successful driver talking of the "_glorious achievement_" for a week.--
_Cobbett_.

* * * * *


VILLAGE BELLS.


------'To the heart the solemn sweetness steals,
Like the heart's voice, unfelt by none who feels
That God is love, that man is living dust;
Unfelt by none, whom ties of brotherhood
Link to his kind; by none who puts his trust
In naught of earth that hath surviv'd the flood,