caterpillars of nearly all of this Linnæan genus, which Latreille divides into several sub-genuses, are remarkable for the beauty of their markings; many of them are of immense size, and, by the richness of their tints, give promise of the splendid wings which in the imago state they will by and by unfold, when, with Gisborne, in his Walks in a Forest,' we see 'Moths of size and power, And motion various, flutter by with plumes Less gorgeous, not less delicate, than those Whose painted wings the noontide flowers adorn.' Of the true Moths, the largest and most beautiful of the British species is that known as the Clifden Nonpareil (Phal noct fraxani). It sometimes measures four inches across the expanded wings, the upper pair of which are light grey, variegated with undulating lines of brown, and the under pair brownish black, with a broad band of light blue across the middle, the whole of the deeply indented edges being fringed with pure white, which gives them a particularly chaste and elegant appearance. But few specimens of this truly noble fly have been obtained in England, and these in Kent, Surrey, and Suffolk, although it has been seen as far north as York. The British Moth which may rank next to this in size and elegance is the Emperor, which is by no means a very rare species; the female sometimes measures upwards of three inches across the wings, the maie seldom more than two and a half. Grey and white, here and there faintly tinged with purple, are the prevailing colours of the wings, the beauty of which consists more in the grace and delicacy of the markings, than in the richness of the tints; on the centre of each wing is a purple eye, something like the spots on the tail of the peacock, by which this species may at any time be distinguished from any other native Moth. Equal in size to the last named-indeed, sometimes exceeding it-is the Goat Moth (Phal bom cossus), so called, because the caterpillar-which is as large as that of the Death's-head, and of a dingy orange colour-diffuses a subtle and rank odour, like that emitted by the goat. There is great uniformity in the colours of this insect, both wings and body being a dull grey, with black and brown markings, interspersed at places with a little ochre yellow and white, which somewhat relieve the monotony of the whole. Although the caterpillar of this species is tolerably abundant here, being found in oaks, ashes, and poplar chiefly, yet the Moth does not occur so frequently as this circumstance would lead one to expect. wide subject, and, to be treated properly, should have a He sees a group of female forms advance, And round and round them still, in wheeling flight, A note to this passage tells us that, 'In Persian poetry, 'The Pleiades were like a Moth, the moon was the lamp.' We must now bring our chapter, and with it the series of chapters on 'Insects of the Months,' to a conclusion. The Puss Moth (Phal bomb vinulu), and the Kentish We are aware that the subject has been treated in a ramGlory (Phal bomb versicolor), may also be named as bling and desultory manner; but we trust that it has not among the largest and most elegant of our native species, as been less interesting-and may we say instructive?—to may the Red Underwing (Phal noct nuptu). The prevail- our readers on this account. The scientific entomologist, ing tint of the first-named of these is light green, and of the if he should deign to look into our papers, may possibly last light brown; in both, the wings are somewhat diapha- tell us that we ought to have said more about orders and nous, and, when extended, will occasionally measure three genera, divisions and subdivisions, and followed implicitly inches across; the last is a rare moth, which is not the case the most approved system of classification. This we could with the first. One of the distinguishing characteristics of have done, if we had seen fit to put so much method' in the last named is the beautiful blood-red hue of the under our 'madness,' and walk about the beautiful green earth wings, which are banded with black, and fringed with in fetters. But we were writing especially for the lover of pure white; the upper wings are a soft, silky brown, poetry, and the gentle, moralising student of nature, and we waved, and streaked with black. This beautiful moth, have little fear that such will blame us for idle talk about the which is a little larger than the two previously named, wonders and beauties of insect life; nay, our fear is that we occurs in nearly all the English counties, but does not ap- may have rendered our remarks somewhat distasteful to pear to have been seen in Scotland. Speaking of the rich them by the hard scientific names, and allusions to classes, crimson tint of the wings of this insect, has reminded us of and orders, and the like, which we felt it necessary to inthe Tiger Moths, of which we have four species, all of troduce; if so, we hope to be held excused: our plea of them sufficiently common to render a description unneces-justification is, that without a framework no structure, sary. We may, however, just enumerate them, and give their scientific designations:-the Scarlet, Cream-spot, Ruby, and Wood Tiger Moths: Phal_noct diminula; P. bomb villica; P. N. fuliginosa; P. B. plantaginis. however light and fantastic, can be erected and held son: Full nature swarms with life; one wondrous mass Waiting the vital breath, when parent Heaven In putrid streams, emits the living cloud Of pestilence. Through subterranean cells. Where searching sunbeams scarce can find a way, Earth animated heaves. The flowery leaf Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce On swelling columns heaved, the pride of art! Has swept at once the unbounded scheme of things; As with unfaltering accent to conclude That this availeth nought? Has any seen The mighty chain of beings, lessening down From infinite perfection to the brink Of dreary nothing, desolate abyss! From which astonish'd thought, recoiling turns? A season's glitter! Thus they flutter on From toy to toy, from vanity to vice; DAILY BIBLE ILLUSTRATIONS.* OUR task, respecting Dr Kitto's work, above named, is easy and pleasant. We have but to express the accordance of our suffrage with that of all the Christians in our land, which places Dr Kitto high among our spiritual instructors, and pronounces his labours of great value and importance. We venture to predict no disappointment to the expectations of readers, and no loss of toil, time, and Christian zeal to the author of the work now before us. We find much to praise in Dr Kitto's style, and in the general treatment of his subject: without any effort at eloquence, there is continual elegance and grace; there is reality, without parade of learning: we do not move in that thick atmosphere, which envelopes so many erudite volumes; we are not afflicted by continual glitter, covering a shallow stream: there is erudition, that will find it a place on the shelf, and interest, which will make it welcome by the cottage fire. There are learned books which we fear to read; so apt is one, by continual walking in chains, to lose freedom of gait: and one hardly accords to a book the honour of being learned, if it does not so impede the limbs. Dr Kitto has proved the fallacy of the idea on which this procedure founds itself: his learning is extensive, and yet his style is free, graceful, attractive. There is a Morning, and also an Evening series of the Illustrations, each consisting of four volumes, and being sufficient for a year. The volume which has especially given rise to our present remarks, is the third of the series for evening reading. Its subject is the Life and Death of our Lord.' It is adapted to serve many ends, all of them * Edinburgh: W. Oliphant & Sons. excellent. To the Sabbath-school teacher, or to any one responsibly connected with the instruction of the young, it is valuable, as containing a connected view of the gospel history, as settling, so far as is in each case practicable, the various questions of chronology or locality which are suggested by, or cast light upon, the sacred text, and as meeting objections which might naturally arise in young and inquisitive minds. All who are engaged in the study of the Scriptures, endeavouring from them, as from a fountain of life and light, to draw spiritual nourishment for their souls, will find in the work assistance and enjoyment; their doubts, if they have any, will be gently met, and perhaps removed; their taste will be gratified by the quiet yet vigorous grace of the style, and the pleasing word-pictures of various memorable scenes; while their Christian piety can scarce fail to be fanned into a brighter glow by the unostentatious, but real earnestness, which pervades the book. They tell us in high places, that Christianity is extinguished or nearly so, and point to literature as our great civilising agent; but we know well that there is enough of Christian fervour and of biblical devotion still in our land, to make such books as Dr Kitto's eagerly welcome: and, while we would deem it foul shame, sin, and cowardice, to account the assertion that Christianity is extinct worthy of an answer, we proclaim the fact, which is as true as the voice of history and the laws of nature, that a godless literature is a curse, and not a blessing to a land. For Christianity, the shield of God is over it, and we need say nothing concerning it: but, in support of our assertion touching a godless literature, we would refer our readers to the present state of literature in France, and its influence, until chained down, in keeping that country in a continual fever and delirious frenzy ; and we would beg them to ponder the remark of Chevalier Bunsen, quoted with admirable point by Samuel Warren in his late little work, that civilisation, without the hallowing and heart-reaching influence of Christianity, is an empty word, and may be, as China and Byzantium show, a caput mortuum of real life, a mummy dressed up into a semblance of living reality.' In setting before our readers two passages from the work, we confess the impossibility of conveying to them an idea of its variety, along with a conviction of its excellence. Our first quotation is one incorporated by Dr Kitto in the body of his work from Beldam's 'Italy and the East' it is a view of Nazareth : A few months before I had stood upon the loftiest pyramid, with the desert, the Nile, and Cairo at my feet. I had since stood upon Sinai, the majestic mountain of the Lord, and had thence petitioned Heaven itself, like a bosom friend; from the minaret at the summit of the Mount of Olives, I had viewed at once the Holy City, with Bethlehem's heights and the mountains of Samaria, the wonderful sea of Sodom, and the mountains of Moab; yet to-day I felt as a child who had yet seen nothing but his own home, and knew nothing of the world. I was thus overwhelmed by the view from Neby Ismael, which crowns the heights of Nazareth. I looked towards Tabor in the east; the lesser Hermon and Gilboa peered upwards in its vicinity, and guided me to the mountains of Samaria in the south. Thence I looked towards the west, and beheld the forelands of Carmel; and, in the blue distance, Carmel itself. Amid all these mountain heights, the broad plains of Esdraelon reposed before me, as if encircled by eternal walls. But beyond Carmel, to its left, as well as to its right, lay, like a festal day in glitterIn the ing beauty, the mirror of the Mediterranean. north a second extensive plain spread forth, with Cana, the little town of the marriage, and the Horns of Hattin,' where the army of Saladin trampled under foot all the conquests of the Crusaders. In the north-east, lastly, shone down, like a divine eye, behind desert groups of mountains, the summit of the great Hermon, enveloped in its eternal snows; and, withdrawing my gaze from those distant scenes, I looked down upon Nazareth, which clung, like a darling child, to the hill above which I stood. What were the feelings of my soul during this survey? The admiration and devotion then felt have no words to express them; but a psalm of the inspired David was rushing to the lips, to resound to the depths of the unfathomable ocean, and to ascend to the snowy summit of Hermon. What may this watch-tower have been to our Saviour? A symbol of his kingdom upon earth, of the gospel of redemption, as it embraced heaven, earth, and seas, with the arms of maternal affection; as it compressed together both the past and future in the one great hour upon Golgotha. The snow of Hermon looks like the grey head of Time-like the past; the sea, pregnant with mystery, like the future. Between both reposes the present, this dew-drop, reflecting infinitely rich images from the rays of the morning sun.' Of Dr Kitto's clear, satisfactory method of stating a question, and giving to it what answer can be rendered, we observe no better example than the following, which, we doubt not, will interest readers : 'How long ago was our Lord born? Some will smile at this question, and will answer it by another question-Does not the date of the present year answer that very plainly? Eighteen hundred and fifty-two years since, of course.' Then in what year was our Lord born? 'In the year one, of course,' some will answer. 'In the year 0, of course,' others will affirm. Then, here, to begin with, is a year's difference, seeing that some count one at the moment Christ was born, while others do not count one till the first year of his life had expired. But there is greater difference still. A marginal note at the head of our English New Testaments informs us, that Jesus was born in the fourth year before the account called Anno Domini,' by which account, therefore, it would seem that the year of our Lord which we call 1852, is really 1856, leaving us to infer that the person who first calculated the year of Christ's birth was mistaken to this extent. Nor should this surprise us, seeing that it was not done until the sixth century-a most unscientific and uncritical age. It was not until then that the usage of counting from the birth of Christ began, and it was but slowly that it acquired prevalence; so that, although, with differences, it was generally established in the eighth century, it cannot be said to have become universal in Christendom until the fifteenth. Lately the whole question has been re-examined by Continental and English scholars with much care; and, although the precise year of our Lord's birth is still uncertain, a reasonably near approximation has been attained. The safest process, indeed the only attainable one, is to find, as nearly as we may, the year of Rome in which the event occurred. For this there are certain data in the Gospels and in Josephus, which, without leading us to absolute certainty, will not allow us to go far astray. We will endeavour to state this very briefly. As a preliminary, it may be well to remind the reader that the first year of the present vulgar era coincides with the year 753 of the building of Rome (A.U.) According to Matthew ii. 1, Jesus was born in the reign of Herod the Great, and not long before his death. Now Herod died in the year of Rome 750, just before the passover. If, then, we make an allowance of time for the purification, the visit of the Magi, the flight into Egypt, and the remaining there till Herod was dead-for all which not less than six months can well be required, -it will follow that the birth of Christ cannot in any case be fixed later than the autumn of the year of Rome 749, being four years before the present era. Again, Luke (iii. 1, 2) says, that John the Baptist entered upon his ministry in the fifteenth year of liberius; and, further on (iii. 23), that Jesus was about thirty years of age' at the time of his baptism by John. Now if, as is quite likely, John commenced his ministry at the same age as Jesus, we may, by reckoning back thirty years, ascertain the time of John's birth, and, consequently, that of Jesus, who is known to have been six months younger. Now, reckoning from the death of Augustus, in the year of Rome 767, the fifteenth year of Tiberius, who succeeded him, commenced August 29, a.t. 781; and going back thirty years, we find that John must have been born not earlier than August 29, a.u. 751, and our Lord of course not earlier than A.U. 752— a result differing by three years from that obtained from Matthew. But Tiberius had been associated with Augustus in the empire certainly two years, and probably three, before the death of the latter; and if, as may be well presumed, Luke reckons from this the commencemeet of the reign of Tiberius, the date deduced from his statement coincides entirely with that drawn from Matthew. Further, in John ii. 20, the Jews say, 'Forty and six years was this temple in building.' Now, Herod commenced the temple in the eighteenth year of his reign, coinciding with A.U. 732; if, therefore, our Lord was-at the time of his first passover, forty-seven years after, as is probable-thirty and a half years of age, this would carry back the year of his birth to the autumn of the year of Rome 748. Moreover, a tradition, preserved by the Latin fathers, on a point wherein authentic information is easily obtainable by them, makes the death of Christ to have taken place in the consulship of C. Rubellius and C. Rufius, that is, in A.U. 782. If, therefore, the duration of our Lord's ministry was three and a half years, making his age thirty-three and a half at the time of his death, this takes us back to the same date of 748 a.u. From the concurrence of all these data, it would appear that the birth of our Lord cannot have taken place later than the year of Rome 749; but it may have been a year or two earlier, if we suppose the period of six months too short to cover the interval between the birth of Jesus and the return of the family from Egypt, on hearing of Herod's death. Some think that it could not have been less than one, two, or three years. Taking all things into account, we suppose it could not well have been less than between one and two years. The uncertainty on this point seems the sole remaining difficulty. And the result is, that the birth of our Lord cannot well have been less than four years anterior to the present era, and may have been a year or two more. Upon the whole, we do not feel satisfied with less than a year more, and this would throw back the true date five years before the present era, so that the present year of 1852 would be actually the 1857th year since the birth of our Lord.' We cannot afford farther space. We should gladly have made our own certain of the important and most interesting details connected with Buddhism, whose alleged resemblance to Christianity is discussed by Dr Kitto; but we must forbear. The book will doubtless be in the hands of most, and it is a book, of which the influence may be regarded with more or less hope, but which can excite no emotion of fear. A critic, who viewed it from a wrong stand-point, might take or make objections: but we really think that every critic, who regards it as the highest merits of a book to do, and to do well, what it professes to do, will bestow all but unqualified praise upon this one. LEATHER. THE manufacture of leather has been less advanced by the application of chemical science than any other of the arts. If Simon, the tanner of Joppa, had been able to send leather to the Exhibition, no doubt he would have carried off a medal for leather as good, and made exactly by the same process, as that of our most eminent manufacturers of the present day. And yet the science of leather production is better understood now than then; but so many physical conditions are involved in the production of good leather, that scientific processes have been unable to satisfy them all. The hides, steeped in an infusion of oak-bark, absorb tannin, and are converted into leather. Good sole leather takes about a year to tan, and even calf-skins con sume a month in the operation. Chemists have certainly indicated substitutes for bark, containing a greater amount of tannin, and these, as for instance, terra japonica, cutch, catechu, and dividivi, produce their effects in half the time; but the leather is said not to be so durable. With sumach, light skins may be tanned in twenty-four hours, and with the aid of alum, even in one hour; but the resulting manufactures are not preferred to the old processes. Atmospheric and hydrostatic pressure have been used to hasten the absorption; the refined laws of Endosmosis and Exosmosis have been called in to accelerate the process; heavy rollers have squeezed the solution through the pores; but all these methods have had at the best but a doubtful success. Leather-manufacturers meet men of science by the well-founded assertion, that the resulting leather is too porous, too hard or too soft, or not sufficiently durable; and they revert to their old traditional modes of preparation. I allude to these failures the more especially to show that there is a wide chasm between the chemist's laboratory and the workshop-a chasm which has to be bridged over by the united aid of the philosopher and the manufacturer. One without the aid of the other does not suffice, but both, working together, may achieve great results. Yet, in bridging over this chasm, they must act on a common plan. If the manufacturer builds his half with out understanding the principles of construction employed by the other, the sides of the bridge may indeed meet, but they are not constructed to receive the binding influence of the key-stone, and the arch must give way and tumble down. Having thus shown the comparative failure of chemistry in revolutionising this important manufacture, let me take one or two instances from it to prove that, in the details of the working, it has been of use in economising time and labour, and in affording new uses to comparatively valueless objects. In removing the hair from the hides, previous to tanning, it was customary to shave it with a knife. This process was tedious and imperfect, and the following simple one is now used. Lime-water dissolves the bulbous root of the hair, when the hides are immersed in it for some time, and the hair may then be readily removed by a blunt instrument. By this simple process one man can remove the hair from a hundred kidskins in about an hour. Still the immersion requires several weeks, while the addition of red orpiment to the lime, as practised by the sheep-skin manufacturers of France, reduces the time to a few hours. When goat-skins are tanned for morocco leather, it is necessary, in order to adapt them for dyeing, to remove the lime absorbed by the last operation. A solution of album græcum cleanses the pores effectually, leaving them so spongelike, that air can readily be forced through them. Hence the process of tanning is rendered much easier, being in fact completed within twenty-four hours; while the leather is rendered fit to assume the colours so cha racteristic of morocco. About fifty persons are employed in London to collect the sweepings of dog-kennels for this purpose, and many more in applying them; and I am informed by Mr Bevington, that the sum annually paid to the collectors and workmen employed in using this apparently worthless substance, is not less than £5000 in the metropolis alone. The currier shaves leather to render it of equal thickness, and the shavings were treated as waste, scarcely fit for the manure-heap, but chemistry has shown that they contain much nitrogen, which renders them well adapted for the formation of the beautiful colour known as Prussian blue.-Lyon Playfair. A Page for the Young. THE UNFADING FLOWER. ONCE upon a time, in a far-off country, lived a little girl named Dorinda. She was an orphan, and very beautiful; but her chief loveliness consisted in an amiable, loving, and docile disposition, and a sweet humility that caused her kind governess, who loved her as if she had been her own ever to esteem others better than herself. She had a very mother, and took great pains to educate her in every virtue. One fine summer day, Madam Dorothea-for that was the name of the good governess-gave Dorinda leave to go where they amused themselves by chasing the crimson and play with her companions in a wide green meadow; butterflies, or plucking the wild flowers that grew profusely and in great variety. They had soon gathered such enormous bouquets that their little hands could scarcely grasp them; so, as it was becoming extremely hot, they all sat down under a great tree in the middle of the meadow, to weave chaplets for their hair. What shall we do next?' at length exclaimed little We have more Winifred, the youngest of the group. wreaths than there are heads to wear them.' Let us play at the queen of beauty,'' suggested Selina, a handsome girl, who hoped that she should be chosen queen, because she was the tallest and most dignified. As our youthful readers may not be acquainted with the game of the queen of beauty,' we will tell them how it is played. A number of young girls elect one among adorned her hair and dress with flowers, place her in their them, usually the prettiest, to be queen; and then, having midst; and joining hands, dance around her, singing these words 'Ever cheerful, ever gay, Here we dance, and here we play. But on this occasion the young girls to whom we more particularly allude could not agree among themselves. The majority would have chosen Dorinda; but she resisted their wishes, thinking several of her companions more deserving of the honour. At length the party agreed to decide the matter in the following way. Each was to choose her favourite flower, and when all had done this, the floral contributions were to be placed in a straw hat, and thrown up into the air. The little girl whose flower rose highest was to be queen. The group accordingly separated, and roving hither and thither made their choice. Dorinda, attracted by the beauty of a cluster of wild roses, selected a half-opened bud. It was very little, and very light; it was plain that Dorinda had no anxiety to be made queen. We are sorry to say that Selina acted very differently; she not only gathered the largest and heaviest blossom she could find, but slyly fastened a small pebble to the stalk, that it might throw the easier. But her design was defeated. Just as the flowers were tossed into the air, a fresh breeze sprang up, and bore the rosebud aloft, while Selina's flower fell heavily to the ground. Ah! Dorinda, Dorinda is queen!' shouted little Winifred, clapping her hands. The merry group adorned and crowned their youthful sovereign, and were joining hands to dance around her, when they were startled by a noise that proceeded from an adjacent thicket. Immediately afterwards the trees parted, and a little old woman issued from the close verdure. She was a very strange figure, this little old woman, and perhaps, had our young readers seen her, they would have screamed, and run away, as did some of Dorinda's companions. A green robe formed her attire, which hid her feet in front, and behind trailed over the grass in a long train. Her bonnet was made of fresh-gathered rushes, adorned with a verdant wreath; and in her hand she held a green flower-pot, in which was a little plant. This old woman was a powerful fairy, and her name was Verdurina. 'My children,' said she, advancing towards those of the young party who had had the good sense to await her approach, among whom was Dorinda, 'I have unseen watched your diversions, and the modesty of Dorinda in not wishing to be queen has determined me to present her with this wonderful little plant, which possesses qualities that may be of the greatest use to its owner. It is called the Unfading Flower, and bears four blossoms and a bud. Stay a moment,' added the smiling fairy, as Dorinda blushingly advanced to receive her present; you must hear the conditions on which your plant will never fade. Know, then, that you cannot preserve it by watering, or any other usual attention. Leave it untouched in your window; but take care to examine it minutely every morning. If you ever find the petals of this carnation-coloured blossom somewhat altered in their hue, you will know that you have offended against modesty, of which this is the flower; should, on the other hand, this snow-white blossom, the Flower of Virtue, be stained or spotted in appearance, inattention to some of your duties will have caused the blemish. Hasten, then, to remove it as quickly as possible, as well as any blight upon this flower of golden hue, called the Flower of Benevolence. The pale blue blossom, the Flower of Gentleness, will be injured by any anger or passion on your part. As for the bud, that contains the Flower of Understanding, which will gradually expand as you take pains with your studies, thus marking your improvement in useful knowledge.' 'How can I thank you sufficiently?' exclaimed the delighted Dorinda. How I wish my dear governess could see you, to acknowledge your beautiful gift!' 'My child,' replied the fairy, 'you cannot better testify your gratitude than by showing me this plant, three years hence, in more than its original beauty. At the end of that period I will return; be ready to meet me here.' So saying, the fairy vanished, leaving Dorinda transfixed, with the flower-pot in her hand. The other girls rubbed their eyes, and looked at one another. Did she return into the grove?' asked little Winifred. 'I did not see her go.' She must be a fairy,' said Dorinda, still gazing upon her precious flower. However, she is very kind, and I am greatly obliged to her. I must return home now, and show my treasure to my governess.' So the little girls separated, for no more play was to be thought of; and Dorinda hastened home with all speed, to exhibit her plant, and place it in a beautiful vase. The next morning the little girl's first thought was of her new possession; and so anxious was she to see it again, that she neglected her usual ablutions, and hurried her dressing sadly. When she approached the window where the little plant was imbibing the rays of the morning sun, she found her governess already there, and minutely examining one of the blossoms. Look here, Dorinda,' she said, 'what can have caused this change in the Flower of Virtue?' Dorinda gazed anxiously upon it, and perceived a blue stain on one of the petals. 'Any inattention to duty, the fairy told me, would injure the delicate blossom,' replied the little girl, thoughtfully. Ah, I know now, my dear governess, forgive me; in my haste to examine my treasure, I have neglected the personal neatness which you have taught me is one of our chief duties.' 'Go, then, my dear,' said Madam Dorothea, and repair your fault at once.' When Dorinda returned to the apartment, with her face freshly washed, her dress neatly arranged, and her beautiful hair as bright and smooth as brush and comb could make it, she found that the Flower of Virtue had resumed its pristine hue. She had fully determined that this first day should pass without any further damage to the unfading flower; but, unfortunately, hearing a noise in the street, just as she was going to dinner, she looked out to see what could be the matter. A number of boys were pursuing a poor idiot; and Dorinda, instead of pitying him, laughed at his odd gestures, as he picked up stones to throw at his tormentors. Madam Dorothea looked out also, to ascertain what excited her pupil's merriment; but, instead of laughing, she became very grave, and sent the servant out to speak to the boys. Then, taking Dorinda by the hand, she led her to the Unfading Flower. Alas! one whole petal of the Flower of Benevolence had turned to dusky grey. Our little, humble-minded friend was not likely to offend much against the Flower of Modesty. Yet one day she boasted of something she had done, and immediately the rich crimson blossom faded to a dull pink. The Fiower of Gentleness received an injury once or twice; but that she soon repaired, and was never guilty of the like again. All this time, the Fower of Understanding was gradually unfolding its multitudinous petals. On one of them was an exact figure of a harp; on another a piano; others exhibited beautiful maps, figures of animals, the heavenly constellations, landscapes and mimic flowers, thus marking Dorinda's progress in music, geography, astronomy, or drawing. One petal alone was blurred with confused figures; this was the arithmetical petal. Dorinda had never succeeded in committing to memory the multiplication table. At length, just before the three years had expired, she overcame this difficulty, along with a few others. No longer a little unlearned girl, but a well-informed and well-principled young woman, she had the pleasure of presenting for the approbation of her friend, the fairy Verdurina, who duly made her appearance at the appointed time, a perfect plant with five splendid blossoms. SABBATH REST. It is change of occupation that is true rest. For the la- ! borious artisan, for example, what a restful alternation to be sweetly attired, to sit at home, to open the family-classic leisurely morning and evening, to sing the immortal songs of King David and the other inspired psalmists with all his neighbours in church or chapel, to send his aspirations to heaven, winged by his brethren's prayers, to caress and teach his Sunday-dressed children, to pray down the blessed Spirit of God into his lowly home, and, this low life almost forgotten, to take the sleep of the be loved in an unwearied bed, this one dear night of the week! The student, too, possessed by the one thought of his work day after day, chased by it through his fitful day-sleep, pursued by it all the night, never without its image before him, or ready and eager to come forward in a trice, his brain and nerves thrilling all over with it, rules of health given to the winds, many natural movements of the heart bidden away, a rush into society of an evening, his one unwilling and rarely pleasing change, were surely a whole world the better of the pause, the altered circumstance, the sociality, the homeliness, the common joys, the blessed associations, the church thoughts and feelings, the pure air, the moony evening peace, the less turbid sleep, the swift, low-voiced parenthesis of his and all men's predestined Sabbath-day. Or could the great minister of state forget his greatness, and his burdens, and his dread responsibilities, and his cares, almost too heavy for a man to endure and live, commending them heartily to God for a day, as remembering that the beneficent elevation to which he is raised above his fellows does not absolve him from the unescapable necessity, imposed on every man of woman born, of living two lives, an outer and an inner, a lower and a higher (or else a lower still)-it is never to be doubted but that the sight and campanionship of wife and children, the soft extension of his allowable couch, the quiet unattended meal, the high Bible-reading, the serenity and depth of the public service, the canticle sung at home to the music of Handel, and the early hours of a Mosaic day of rest, might well be more than half the battle on the side of God and the Right; and England, with all her hands, would rise up and call him blessed.-North British Review. |