But deep this truth impress’d my mind-- Thro’ all his works abroad, The heart benevolent and kind The most resembles God.--BURNS. The sun had set upon the last evening of a cold and bleak December, and from the frosty sky, a few stars looked down upon the crowded streets of one of the largest towns in England; a motley scene, in which the actors, both gay and sorrowful, went whirling and winding onwards, altogether unconscious of other scrutiny than from the busy eyes of their fellows. It was still early, and the whole scrambling restless world of the great town was astir, pouring out its many-tongued din over the cheerful pavements, bright with the light from its open shops and warehouses,…
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