THE GOSSAMER SPIDER.

THE manner in which spiders form those long filmy lines that are frequently met crossing our path betwixt hedge-rows, and sometimes stretching across streams of considerable width, I have often puzzled myself to account for, till I chanced to make the following observation. Amusing myself in a garden some years ago, I happened to find a spider of the above description of an unusually large size, which I secured upon a twig, and stationed myself on the top of the wall, with a view to observe by what method the insect should endeavour to extricate itself. The spider, after having travelled backwards and forwards upon the twig, and finding no means of escape from his novel situation, suddenly dropped by its thread, and, at short intervals of rest and apparent consideration, gradually lowered itself to about twelve feet. Unable to reach the earth with this length of line, he ascended back to the twig I held in my hand, and remained motionless. I shortly observed, glancing in the sunbeams, another line, which was drawn out by the wind from the bowels of the spider in a horizontal direction, about three yards distance, where coming in contact with a tree it was fastened, thus forming one of those lines alluded to, and by which it would appear the spider transports itself from one object to another.

OAKS PLANTED BY SQUIRRELS.

Ir is a curious circumstance, and not generally known, that most of the oaks which are called spontaneous, are planted by the squirrels. This little animal has performed the most essential service to the British navy. A gentleman walking one day in the wood, belonging to the duke of Beaufort, near Treyhouse, in the county of Monmouth, his attention was diverted by a squirrel which sat very composedly upon the ground. He stopped to observe his motions: in a few moments the squirrel darted like lightning to the top of a tree beneath which he had been sitting. In an instant he was down with an acorn in his mouth, and began to burrow in the earth with his paws. After digging a small hole, he stooped down and deposited the acorn, then, covering it, he darted up the tree again. In a moment he was down with another, which he buried in the same manner. This he continued to do as long as the observer thought proper to watch him. The industry of this little animal is directed to the purpose of securing himself against want in winter, and as it is probable that his memory is not sufficiently retentive to enable him to remember the spots in which he deposited every acorn, the industrious little fellow no doubt loses a few every year. The few spring up, and are destined to supply the place of the parent tree. Thus is Britain in some measure indebted to the industry and bad memory of a squirrel for her Pride, her Glory, and her Existence.

PICTORIAL PAGES.

SAVING CRUMBS.

A WELL known citizen of the United States of America says-When I was a boy about twelve years of age, my father sent me on an errand to the house of a poor man. On my arrival I found he had been shelling corn, and was gathering up the few grains that lay scattered upon the ground. The curiosity and impertinence of an inquisitive boy, led me to inquire of him why he was so saving of trifles, or stingy, as I termed it. He replied in a mild and placid tone, that it was not stinginess, but carefulness that induced him to act thus savingly; he further remarked, that the philosophy of nature taught him, that saving crumbs was the way to wealth. By this plain and simple illustration, I learned my first lesson in Natural Philosophy. By arithmetical analysis he demonstrated that all bodies however large are made up of small particles of matter. The gentleness of his deportment toward the rude inquiries of a wild, thoughtless boy, made an impression on my tender mind that time has not erased. Sixteen years after this adventure I was travelling in a very beautiful and flourishing part of the young but prosperous state of Indiana. After a fatiguing ride of some hours through a new and somewhat thinly settled part of the country, I approached a handsome farm apparently well cultivated, in the midst of which was situated a neat, comfortable dwelling house, and other conveniences well arranged in every respect; immediately on this discovery, I determined to alight and rest myself an hour or two; accordingly I called at the house, and was furnished with every thing necessary to the refreshment and comfort of a weary traveller. But judge my astonishment, gentle reader, when I recognised in the possessor of the comfortable mansion and a fine farm, the very man who so long before told me that the way to wealth was in saving crumbs. Although I am still young, I have lived long enough to learn by practical examples the importance of saving every trifle.

THE CONVERTED POACHER.

A CLERGYMAN in the west of England, some time ago, informed the committee of the Religious Tract Society, that the valuable tract, entitled, Serious Thoughts on Eternity,' had, under God, been the means of awakening a careless sinner. W-L-, of U in the county of

was, for a third time, committed for poaching to jail. He had been previously living, as he has himself since told me (says this clergyman), 'having no hope, and

23

without God in the world,' not entering a place of worship for months together, sometimes from year's end to year's end, and when occasionally there, so utterly ignorant was he of every thing connected with his soul's concerns, though able both to read and write, as to come away scarcely knowing the meaning of any thing he had heard. The Gospel which fell on his car was hid from his heart. This natural man received not the things of the Spirit of God.

Being committed to jail, he found on entering the prison that the first month was to be spent in solitude, the other two on the treadmill. Anxious to render this first month as little irksome as possible, he eagerly sought among the prisoners in the jail any books they would lend him. A few religious tracts were alone to be had, and with these as his only companions he was shortly afterwards shut up. Among them there was that on eternity. He read it, and it carried conviction like an arrow to his inmost soul. He read it again and again. He said, he 'could not put it down.' He could not sleep under the impressions it awoke in him. He saw his awful state as a sinner, and his unpreparedness for heaven. The Spirit of God was, we hope, convincing him of sin. Thus the month passed away: the next saw him at the treadmill. His good conduct procured a mitigation of his sentence; and, during the third, he was employed in mending the I mention it as affording jail dresses. some ground of hope that already grace was bringing forth buds. Returning home he began a new course. He now frequented the house of God. Visiting the church of 0- a village adjoining U-, he heard a sermon on 1 Pet. iv. 18. And if the righteous, &c., and it pleased God to make it useful to the deepening his serious impressions. The Saviour was now more clearly manifested to him. He laid hold on the hope set before him, and believing, was justified by faith, and had peace with God through Christ. God's people now became his companions. His feet regularly trod in the track of the flock. He was regularly in his place on the Sabbath. He attended the prayer-meeting. His own soul and those of his children were his care. His Bible was studied and the Lord heard in his house the voice of prayer and praise. The man who told me, that before, when he went to the house of God, he could carry nothing away, now says, as he simply answered on being asked whether he profited under the ministry he attended, I make, sir, my Sabbath-evening family prayer from the sermons, I have heard in the day; I mean, I try to do so in my poor way.' With this man (adds the Clergyman,) so lately a notorious poacher, I knelt to-day at the table of the dear Redeemer, and believe that the angels rejoiced in heaven, as we on earth, over this repenting sinner. Before the communion, I preached from Isaiah 4th, 1st verse, Comfort ye, &c.,' and it was with mingled emotions that, both under the word and at the table, I saw the tear of penitence and love fill his eye. "The Lord of his goodness build him up, and hold him up to the end, and crown him with salvation!

THE CONVERTED MIMIC.

WHEN the Rev. George Whitfield, and John Wesley, commenced their zealous and successful labours, there was a very prevalent disposition to oppose and misrepresent them; many of the public-houses became places where their doctrines and zeal were talked of and ridiculed. Mr. Thorpe, and several other young men in Yorkshire, undertook at one of these parties to mimic the preaching of these good men. The proposition met with applause, one after another stood on a table to perform his part, and it devolved on Mr. T. to close this irreverent scene. Much elated and confident of success, he exclaimed, as he ascended the table, 'I shall beat you all.' Who would have supposed that the mercy of God was now about to be extended to this transgressor of his law? The Bible was handed to him, and by the guidance of unerring Providence it opened at Luke xiii. 3. "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." The moment he read the text his mind was impressed in a most extraordinary manner; he saw clearly the nature and importance of the subject; and, as he afterwards said, if he ever preached with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, it was at that time. His address produced a feeling of depression in his auditors, and when he had finished, he instantly retired to weep over his sins. He associated with the people of God, and died a useful minister of the New Testament, at Masborough, in 1776.

man has much to do and little time to do it while every candle of life will soon be burnt out-how many candles suddenly go out ere they be half spent, and no man can rekindle them, and if the work of life is then not done, it must remain undone for

ever.

Let us then adopt for ourselves the language of the little girl, 'I must make haste, my candle will soon be done! To this accords the language of the wisest of menWhatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might, for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave whither thou goest.' E. CORNWALL.

THE RAINBOW.

From the German.

6

A LITTLE after a thunderstorm, a beautiful rainbow bridged a portion of the sky. A little boy, called Henry, saw it from the window and cried out full of joy, such wonderful and lovely colours, I never saw before. Yonder, by the old willow on the stream, they reach from the clouds to the earth. Surely the leaves are trickling down with the beautiful colours. I will run, and fill all my colour shells in my paintbox with them.'

He ran as fast as he could to the willow-tree; but to his annoyance, the poor boy found himself standing there in the rain, and could no longer perceive a single colour. Wet through, and out of heart, he turned back, and complained of his disappointment to his father.

"MY CANDLE WILL SOON BE DONE." A LITTLE girl was once urgently charged to finish some needle-work that night. It must be done. She was only provided with one candle, and was told, that when that was spent, the work must cease, for she could get no more. Knowing, therefore, how much depended on her industry while the candle kept burning, she diligently plied her needle. Ever and anon she looked up to see the light, and was heard often to repeat to herself. 'I must make haste, my candle will soon be done.' Then again, some while after, while she hurried on her work, she exclaimed emphatically, I must make haste, my candle will soon be done.'

Simple as was this occurrence, it is yet most instructive. How truly may each one respond while perceiving how rapidly the candle of life is burning away. I must make haste to prepare to meet God in eternity, my time will soon expire!'

Our blessed Saviour strikingly alluded to the same principle, when he exclaimed, I must work the works of him that sent me while it is day, the night cometh (the light having expired,) when no man can work.'

Surely, then, every Christian ought to awake out of sleep to consider how much is to be done! What need of despatch, and how soon he must give an account of his stewardship! But while every

His father smiled, and said,These colours cannot be caught in any shell, they are only the rain drops, which seem so brightly painted for a little while in the rays of the sun. But so it is, my dear boy, with all the splendours of the world, though they may seem to be very beautiful, they are only an empty show.'

If outward show thy foolish heart deceive,
Instead of joy, it will be thine to grieve.

THE GAMBOGE TREE.

THE goraka, or gamboge tree, (goraka gaha,) grows to a great height, and has a very stately appearance, its small dark green leaves presenting a beautiful contrast to the light green of the other trees. The Gamboge is taken from the tree by incisions made in the bark. When thus cut, a yellow liquid, as thick as oil, runs down, and being exposed to the air, soon becomes solid. The fruit is as big as an apple, and deeply ribbed. In some trees it is yellow, in others red.

When broken open, there are two seeds, which, to the teeth, feel like leather, and are surrounded by a scarletcoloured, soft, and frothy pulp; of a pleasant flavour, but seldom eaten, as in cating it the teeth become co

vered with a substance resembling bees'-wax. An excellent jelly is made from it. The outside of the fruit is dried in the sun, and used by the natives in curries. The wood is of little service. It is white and coarse. The fruit is ripe in July.

Fruit, Leaf, and Flower, of the Gamboge Tree.

MICHAEL FARADAY.

MICHAEL Faraday was born in London in 1794. He was the son of a poor blacksmith. Little did his poor father think that he would attain to a world-wide celebrity; that Prince Albert, even, the husband of our Queen, would think himself honoured by presiding at a lecture delivered by his son. Happily, all this was concealed from the blacksmith,otherwise Michael might have been spoiled by foolish attentions; he might, in anticipation of his future greatness, have become vain and conceited, which would certainly have destroyed both him and his prospects.

When his infantile years had passed, and he had arrived at that period when he could be sent from home, he was no longer permitted to remain there. He must commence thus early the race for bread. He must assist his father, who had so far maintained him by the sweat of his brow while toiling at the forge. It was little that he could do or earn -one or two shillings at the most; but even that sum, thrown into the Saturday night's store, would be useful. It was not unreasonable, and Michael did not object. He did object, however, to the blacksmith business. It was too rough and coarse to assort acceptably with his fine and

gentle spirit. In deference, therefore, to his wishes, he was apprenticed to a bookseller and bookbinder of the name of Riebau, in Blandford Street. He worked at these callings steadily and industriously until he was twenty-two years of age.

"What!" says some fine youth, home for the holidays, who, as a special treat, has been taken to hear a lecture and witness the chemical experiments of the great Faraday, while he was surrounded by the elite of the aristocracy, "do you mean to tell me that he did not go to school in his youth, and finish his education in one of the universities?" Moderate your amazement, my young friend. How could he do this, and yet be apprenticed to one Riebau, the bookseller, whom he served faithfully and well until his twenty-second year?

This

is the moral that you had need to remember-if he, with his limited opportunities, could achieve so much, what ought you to achieve with your greater facilities?

It would be wrong, however, to say that Faraday had no education in his youth. The fact is quite the contrary. It is true he had not the opportunity of attending school, or becoming a member of any of the great seats of learning. He had an education nevertheless, but it was an educa

noon is bright, Go when the eve declineth,

Go in the hush
of night;
Go with pure
mind and feel-
ing,
Fling earthly
thoughts away,
And in thy cham-
ber kneeling,
Do thou in se-
cret pray.

Remember all who love thee-
All who are loved by thee;
Pray, too, for those who hate thee,
If any such there be;
Then for thyself in meekness,
A blessing humbly claim,
And link with each petition
Thy dear Redeemer's name,

Or if 'tis here denied thee
In solitude to pray
Should holy thoughts come g'er
thee,

When friends are round thy way,-
E'en then the silent breathing

Of thy spirit raised above,
Will reach His throne of glory,
Who is mercy, truth, and love,
Oh! not a joy or blessing

With this can we compare,
The power that He has given us
To lift our souls in prayer:
Whene'er thou pin'st in sadness,
Before His footstool fall;
And remember in thy gladness,
His grace who gave thee all."

THE EYE THAT SEES IN DARKNESS.

A LITTLE boy, called Jacob, was once alone in the house with his little sister, who was called Anna. Jacob said to Anna, 'Come, let us go down, and find something to eat, and let us enjoy ourselves very much.'

Anna replied, 'If you can take me to a place where no one will see us, I will go with you.'

'Well, then,' said Jacob, 'come with me into the dairy, and then we can eat up a dishful of sweet cream.'

Anna replied, "Our neighbour, who is cleaving wood in the street, can see us there.'

'Come with me, then, into the kitchen!' said Jacob, 'for there is a pot full of honey, and we will dip our bread into it, and eat it all.'

Anna said, 'Our neighbour, who sits spinning at her window, can look in there.'

'Let us go down in the cellar, then,' replied Jacob, it is quite dark there, and no one can possibly see us.'

Anna replied, 'O, my dear brother, do you really think that no one sees us there? Do you know nothing of that Eye far above, which pierces through the walls, and loo s into the darkness?'

Jacob was frightened, and said, 'You are right, dear sister, God sees us when no mortal eye can see us; we will then do evil nowhere.'

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Anna was delighted that Jacob took her words to heart, and she afterwards gave him a pretty picture-the Eye of Providence surrounded with rays, was represented above, and below was writtenBethink thee, child, that God's all-seeing eye, Can every secret work and thought descry,

THE REWARD OF DILIGENCE.

'Seest thou a man diligent in his business,' says Solomoni 'he shall stand before kings.' We have a striking illustration of this aphorism in the life of Dr. Franklin, who, quoting the sentence himself, adds, "This is true: I have stood in the presence of five kings, and once had the honour of dining with one.' All in conseqence of his having been 'diligent in business' from his earliest years. What a lesson is this for our youth, and for us

all!

'See,' answered his father, 'that little creature is the smallest of all our birds, and it can boast of no brilliant plumage, yet it is noted beyond all others for its wonderful spirit. Although it is now so cold, and the wind blows, and the snow is falling, and nothing is to be seen around but ice and leafless trees, yet he ever abideth joyous and bold. See how he has just now flown to the pinnacles of the roof, and looks around him with as blithe an air as if the whole world belonged to him, and so in fact it does, for he enjoys it as much as if it were his own land. Hark! he is beginning to sing, and his little voice sounds like the sweet, clear flute he seems as if he would say to all, How joyous is my spirit. It is not disturbed by the thoughts that the oaks are riven by the wind. It sings in the face of the storm. Now he wings his flight downwards, to the trees in the orchard. There he carefully seeks the eggs of the caterpillar, which in spring would devour the blossoms of the fruit trees, and he destroys them, that spring may not be robbed of its blooming beauty, nor the autumn of its rich harvest of laden boughs. Seest thou how he has again posted himself on the highest point of the roof, from whence his sweet warbling calls upon all to rejoice during the cold winter season; offering to them also an example of gentle courage and contented happiness.'

O, then,' exclaimed Wilhelm, 'what is the name of the dear little bird?'

'His spirit is so free and undaunted,' replied the father, 'that men have with one consent bestowed upon him an exalted name and station amongst the feathered tribe, for though so small, he has from olden times been called the "Winter King," and has been ranked next to the proud eagle, who is well owned as the sovereign of the whole winged creation. So do thou, my child, whilst thou art young, show a brave and kingly spirit, that the little bird may not shame thee. And, then, when thou art come to man's estate, a higher power shall be given thee.'

'Papa,' inquired Wilhelm, 'can kings also fly ?'

'No,' answered the father; 'in that respect, birds have the advantage. Kings are men like ourselves.'

'Oh!' thoughtfully exclaimed Wilhelm. And when they were seated by their fireside, he begged of his father to tell him more about the little wren. His father joyfully complied with the wishes of the child, and thus playfully imparted to him much earnest teaching, following thus in the steps of kind and friendly Nature.