I
iI
I'I
't I.,i 
.('., 
AUNT FANNY'S HOME,
AND
HER TALKS ABOUT GOD'S WORKS.
BY
THE REV. WILLIAM E. SCHENCK, D. D.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.
NO. 821 CHESTNUT STREET.
I I 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by
JAMES DUNLAP, TREAS.,
ii the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern l)trict
of Pennsylvania.
STEREOTYPED BY WILLIAM W. HARDING, PHILADELPHIA. 
PREFACE.
THE simple aim of this little book is to
afford its youthful readers some glimpses
of God's wisdom, power, and goodness, as
they may be seen in the commonest works
of nature, and thus lead to deeper feelings
of dependence on God, and gratitude towards him. In pursuing this aim the endeavour is made to cause the works of God
and his blessed word to throw light upon
each other.   That God  may bless the
1*                          5 
6
PREFACE.
humble effort to the spiritual good of the
youth who may peruse the book, and use it
for his own glory, is the earnest prayer of
the author.
PHILADELPHIA, 1863. 
AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER I.
AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
N a central part of the
State of New Jersey, a
few miles from a large
,  i   and flourishing village,
stands  a pleasant
old  family mansion.
It  was  built  near  the  summit
of a hill, so elevated that from
its windows one might take a
view over the country for miles
around. From the house the ground
7 
8    AUNT FANNY'S HOME
sloped gently down into a lovely
valley, through which, between
highly cultivated meadows with
here and there a clump of trees, a
clear and rapid stream wound its
tortuous way. Beyond this valley
arose another hill, not quite so high
as that on which the house was
built. The more elevated portions
of this opposite hill were covered
with a forest, through which a gurgling rivulet leaped and wandered
downward to the brook below. Indeed, the whole country around was
diversified charmingly with hill and
dale, with patches of wild forest and
cultivated fields, and rocks, and
streams.
Immediately around the house
were beautiful grounds, not exten. 
AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
sive, but planted with varied shrubbery, and laid off with winding and
well-gravelled walks, the whole being always kept in the neatest possible condition.   And altogether,
without any pretensions to lordliness of style, this old mansion, with
its neat, airy, and comfortable apartments, the carefully-trained vines
and rose-bushes climbing its exterior, its well-kept grounds and
shrubbery, and its lovely prospects
over the adjacent country, gave one
an idea that its owner possessed intelligence, thrift, easy resources, and
excellent taste. Yet there was nothing of costliness or showiness
about it. Thousands of such homes
may be found in every part of our
favoured land, especially in the near
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10   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
vicinities of our larger towns and
cities.
The owner and occupant of the
dwelling  we  have described was
MIiss Fanny Walton. She was a
maiden lady, somewhere in that uncertain period of life for a lady,
found between thirty and forty
years of age.  She was tall and
erect in person; easy, polite, and
vivacious in her manners; and
over her face there was always such
a flood of sunshine-she was so
lively, so gentle, and so sweet in
the expression of her countenance,
that she might easily have been
supposed to be much younger than
she was. Miss Fanny was well
known to all the poor in her vicinity, to whom in their times of 
AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
sickness, or bereavement, or trouble
of any kind, she was sure to come
as an angel of mercy. She was a
member of a Presbyterian church
in the neighbouring village, where
she was held by all in the highest
respect and affection.
1\Iiss Fanny had spent several of
her early years at a boarding-school
in the city of Philadelphia. Her
mother had died while she was yet
a child, and her father knew not
what better disposition to make of
her. She had, however, been happily placed in the hands of a pious
and most judicious teacher, by whom
her character had been, with the
blessing of God, moulded to become
such as we now find it. At the
end of a few years the little girl
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12    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
returned to the paternal roof, a refined, cultivated, intelligent, and
Christian lady. Assuming the entire charge of the father's household,
she had refused several offers of
marriage, and had with the most
filial assiduity, watched over him
for many years. A rapid decline
had hurried him to the grave, and
Miss Fanny, his only unmarried
child, was, by his will, left in sole
possession of the old homestead.
She was yet debating, at the end
of a year after his death, whether
she would continue to live thus
alone, or whether she would sell the
old mansion and farm, and go to live
in the city where she had been educated, and where she had numerous
friends  and  acquaintances.   The 
AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
struggle was a severe one.  On the
one side her life was painfully solitary where she was, and her friends
urged her earnestly to come and
reside among them in the city. On
the other hand, she was strongly
attached to the old home of her fathler, and of her childhood's happy
days. Every room, and nook, and
corner in the old house her heart
clung to. And every tree and flower
in the vicinity, every moss-grown
rock, and every bend and tiny cascacle in the babbling brook, she
loved as a friend from which she
could not resolve to separate. She
had also a keen appreciation of the
beauties of nature, and a susceptibility  which  intensely  enjoyed
them. She loved to gaze at the
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13 
14   AUNT FANNY' S HIOME.
rising and the setting sun; to watch
the pattering rains and the falling
snow; to gaze upon the beauties of
the landscape below, and of cloudland above; to note the changes of
the seasons from winter through the
opening buds and flowers of spring,
to the ripened harvests of summer,
and thence on to the bending fruittrees and brilliant forest colours of
autumn.   To  her eye all nature
was full of beauty and of joy, and
she could not bear to think of giving up all these even for the sake
of dwelling among dear friends in
a pent-up city home.
While she was yet hesitating,
Divine providence decided the matter for her. A widowed sister, who
lived in a distant town, was sud
i 
AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
denly removed by death, leaving
three orphaned sons. Their father
had left no relatives to whose care
their training could be committed.
The letter which brought to her the
news of her sister's death, brought
also an expression of that sister's
dying wish, that Miss Fanny would
take the little orphans under her
care, and train them up for usefulness in the service of God. Her
benevolent heart gave no slow or
doubtful response to this dying appeal.   Her decision was at once
made to remain in her country
home, and another week saw her
three nephews domesticated in her
dwelling.
They were fine boys-those three
nephews. Although they had al
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16   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ways lived in town, they were
strong, active, and healthy lads, accustomed to much out-door exercise.
Willie, the oldest of the three,
was about fourteen years of age,
stout in form, and manly in his
bearing.   He had  already made
considerable progress in his preparation for college, and began sometimes to assume the dignity and
lordliness of approaching manhood
in his intercourse with his younger
brothers.
Archie, the second, was a lithe
little lad about twelve years of age.
Although much younger and smaller
than his brother Willie, he was as
active as a young deer, and could
beat him in almost any sport which
did not require the exercise of mere 
AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
strength. In mental and intellectual activity, too, he was fully his
equal, if not his superior. He read
a great deal, and remembered well
and digested well what he read.
Samuel, the youngest, was between ten and eleven years of age.
He was a quiet, pensive lad, not
averse from a good romp in good
company, but much disposed ordinarily, to seek retirement, and indulge in meditation.
Their aunt Fanny soon found
that her nephews had had an admirable early training. Their mother had been a woman of devoted
piety, and had well understood how
responsible a thing it was to have
immortal souls committed to her
care by her heavenly Father.
2*
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18   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
Hence, she had put forth constant
and earnest efforts to "train them
up in the nurture and admonition
of the Lord." She had taught
them especially to love and to study
God's holy word, and had accompanied her instructions with earnest
daily prayer that God would bless
it to their salvation. Her anxiety
to have her sister Fanny assume
the guardianship of her orphan
boys, grew not mnerely or chiefly
out of her anxiety that they should
have a comfortable home and be
well provided for in the things of
this world. Her chief concern for
them was, that the religious education she had begun to give them,
should be carried forward after her
departure to another world.  And 
AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
from  what  she  knew  her sister
Fanny's character and piety to be,
she was fully satisfied that she
would have not only the intellectual qualifications for this work,
but also the disposition to undertake with alacrity its performance.
Nor was she mistaken in cherishing this reliance. No sooner
were the three boys domiciled in
their aunt Fanny's home, than her
heart began to yearn to make them
happy, and to do them good. Not
only were  suitable arrangements
made for them to receive regular
instructions in the various branches
of a liberal education, but she began
to draw forth from her own rich
stores of information, the means of
cultivating their understandings
19 
20   AUNT FANNY'S HOME
and improving their hearts. While
she led them to study largely and
carefully God's own book, she also
sought to make them see in God's
works, spread all around them, the
evidences of the Divine wisdom,
greatness,  and  goodness.   With
much skill she led them to an understanding of the uses and benefits
of the various natural objects which
were always before their eyes, never
failing at the same time to lead
their thoughts from nature up to
nature's God.
In this little volume we shall
show to our young readers a few of
the pleasant scenes occurring in
aunt Fanny's home; we will accompany her and her three nephews
in some of their pleasant rambles 
AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
over hill and valley, in the forest
and by the babbling brook; and
will try to rehearse for their benefit
some of the long and interesting
conversations they had about the
commonest things of nature, such
things as my young friends who
read this book will not be sorry,
we hope, to know more about than
heretofore.
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22   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER II.
SNOW.
IH dear!" said lit  {/~,~:, god  tie Archie, "how
-~y         black and  heavy
the clouds do look
to-day.  Now we
shall have to keep indoors all day."
Boys do not love to stay indoors.
They usually prefer much to play
in the open air. It was no wonderful thing therefore that Archie said
this in a somewhat impatient tone,
and that his remark was followed
by a fearful yawn. His words were 
SNOW.
addressed to his aunt Fanny. Now
aunt Fanny was a very kind and
gentle lady, and she had already
learned to love her little nephews
very much. She was very intelligent, too, and every day taxed her
ingenuity and drew upon her stores
of knowledge for means to make
happy the motherless little boys
left to her care. So, laying her
sewing in her lap, as she heard
Archie's remark followed by his
yawn, she looked out of the window
and exclaimed briskly:
"See, Archie, see, it isbeginning
to snow. How perfectly quiet the
air is. How gently these flakes
descend.  Faster  and faster yet
they come. Now, boys, how would
you like to have a talk about snow.
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24    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
I think I could tell you some things
about it, which would interest you
very much?"
"Oh, yes! yes! aunt Fanny, do
tell us all about the snow.  That
would be so pleasant this gloomy
day."
"Well then, to begin, let me tell
you that snow is just frozen rain.
When the temperature of the upper
air sinks below the freezing point,
then the mist or rain that is up
there, turns into snow as it descends.  I say when that is the case
in the ipper air, for sometimes the
air is much colder there than it is
down on the earth's surface. So
that sometimes snow descends when
our thermometer stands considerably above the freezing point." 
SNOW.
" Oh, yes!" said Willie, "I have
often noticed that, and never knew
how to account for its snowing at
such times."
"WVhen the mists and rain-drops
freeze,   continued  aunt  Fanny,
"they display innumerable varieties of the most beautiful forms.
Examined under a microscope they
appear to be regular crystals.
Scoresby, a celebrated Arctic voyager, examined a vast number, and
has drawn the figures of ninety-six
varieties. Here, in this little book,
are a number of the most curious
and beautiful.   See how regular
and graceful are their forms. They
will remind you of the figures you
saw the other day, when I showed
you my Kaleidescope."
3
25 
26    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
r(~AW  "
49
en ~~~e$'P
~~~~A
"Is'nt it wonderful, aunt Fanny?"
said little Samuel.  "'Why I never
dreamed the snow contained such
beautiful figures.   I shall never
handle it without thinking of its
beauty. I shall always feel sorry
to walk upon it and crush these
little crystals."
"My dear boy," said his aunt, 
SNOW.
"if you would study them attentively, you would find all the works
of God full of beauty in every part.
But to return to the snow, these
crystals are formed most beautifully
when the air is calmest, and the
cold intensest. Hence they are most
beautiful in the Arctic regions.
But did you ever see any thing,
Archie, that was whiter than snow?"
"No, never, aunt Fanny," responded Archie, "why, when I have
looked at the newly fallen snow, it
has so dazzled my eyes that I could
not afterwards clearly see any thing
else."
"Just so, and therefore the Bible
often uses snow as the emblem of
the utmost conceivable purity. In
this way it illustrates the indescrib
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28    AAUNT FANNY'S HOME.
able holiness of the Lord Jesus, as
you may see by looking at Mark ix.
3, and Rev. i. 14. There is a sweet
and blessed promise made to all
guilty sinners that if they will penitently accept God's offered mercy,
their deepest and foulest stains shall
be so completely washed away that
'though their sins be as scarlet,
they shall be white as snow.'
Isaiah i. 18.  But I ask again,
boys, did you ever read of any
thing whiter than snow?"
The boys thought a moment, and
then Archie exclaimed, "Yes! yes!
aunt Fanny, I did. It was in the
51st Psalm, which I committed to
memory a few weeks ago. The
Psalmist prayed,'wash me, and I
shall be whiter than snow."' 
sNoW.
"Right, Archie, that shews the
absolute and celestial purity which
every sinful but believing soul will
one day possess in heaven through
the cleansing power of Jesus' blood.
But now I will tell you another
wonderful thing. Did you ever,
boys, see any snow that was not
white?"
"No, indeed!" exclaimed all the
boys, laughing loudly.
"Yet we are told on good authority that in the polar regions the
snow has been seen of an orange,
of a salmon, and even of a red colour. This appearance is due to the
growth in the snow of myriads of
microscopic plants, each being in itself only a single cell. Snow storms
3*
29 
30    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
have sometimes in high latitudes
also presented a luminous appearance, so that every object has appeared to be covered with a sheet
of fire."
"I have heard somebody say,"
remarked Willie, "that snow would
make a knife rust faster than would
any thing else. Is that true, aunt
Fanny."
"Yes, Willie, I suppose it is in
a good degree true.  Snow-water
has been found when analyzed, to
hold in solution more oxygen than
any other water. If so, it would
undoubtedly be more active in rusting any metallic surface."
"But, aunt Fanny," said little
Samuel, "what good does the snow
do?" 
SNOW.
"I  am glad to hear you ask that
question, my dear boy," said his
aunt. " Well, snow is extremely
useful in a great variety of ways.
I will try to tell you some of them.
In the first place, the snow falls in
immense quantities upon the high
mountains, and thence, by its gradual melting, it steadily and quietly
feeds the springs, and through them
the streams of running water which
a heavy pour of rain would convert
into fearfully destructive torrents,
deluging whole districts of country.
In many countries the snow upon
the mountains, lasting far into the
summer, tempers the burning heats,
by cooling the breezes which pass
over them to the plains below."
"Aunt Fanny," interrupted Arch
31 
32   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ie, "I have heard a farmner say that
there had hardly been snow enough
as yet upon the grain-fields to cause
a good crop next summer. What
did he mean by that?"
"Why, Archie, the farmers, who
are often shrewd and careful observers of the operations of nature,
have found out that a good coating
of snow, spread over their grainfields in winter, protects the roots
and tender leaves of the grain from
the action of severe frosts. Throughout the temperate zones all vegetation is greatly benefited and protected thus by the snows of winter.
It has been found that hardy Alpine
plants, transferred to England,
would perish even in the mild winter of that country, for want of their 
SNOW.
33
usual snowy covering. So you see,
my dear boys, that the snow is very
useful, as well as very beautiful.
God sends it, as well as the rain
and the sunshine, on a beneficent
errand."
"That reminds me, aunt Fanny,"
said Willie, "of what I was reading
the other day in the fifty-fifth chapter of Isaiah, where it is said,'For
as the rain cometh down, and the
snow from heaven, and returneth
not thither, but watereth the earth,
and mraketh it bring forth and bud,
that it may give seed to the sower,
and bread to the eater,'-and  so
on. When I read this I wondered
what the snow had to do with producing seed and bread. But you
have made it all very plain, and I 
34    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
now understand that verse better
than before."
"Try always, my dear Willie, to
search out the meaning of all that
you read in the Bible. As God is
the Author of the Bible, you may
be sure that every verse is full of
divine wisdom, and will well repay
the most careful study. And now,
boys, perhaps you are growing
tired of this long talk. Look, the
ground is now white with snow,
and the sun is about to break
through the clouds."
"Oh no! aunt Fanny," cried the
boys, "we are not at all tired.  It
has been such a pleasant talk. We
have learned so much about the
snow, we shall always look on it
i 
SNOW.
with new interest. We are so much
obliged to you."'
"Well, now you can go out and
have a little fun. I won't object to
vour having a good snow balling,
if you will not make your balls too
hard, and will play with moderation and in good temper. But the
other day, when coming down the
street, I saw a sight that made me
feel very sorry.  It was a large,
strong, well-dressed boy, pelting
mercilessly a smaller, weaker, and
ragged boy with very hard balls.
He had crowded the poor fellow up
against a brick wall, and seemed to
take a malicious enjoyment in really
hurting and tormenting him. Never
do such things as that, my dear
boys. Remember that every hand
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36    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ful of snow you grasp contains wonderful evidences of the wisdom and
goodness of the Almighty Creator,
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SNOW.
and was sent to give happiness, not
to cause pain. Be afraid and be
ashamed to pervert what God has
sent in goodness, to unkind and
cruel uses. Now, go and play.
Good-bye."
NOTE TO PAGE 29.-Some of this coloured snow
was brought back from Labrador by Prof. Stephen
Alexander of the College of New Jersey, and was
exhibited for weeks in the office of I. S. Schenck,
5I. D., Professor of Chemistry in the College.
4
37 
38   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER III.
AIR.
UNT FANNY,"
said Willie one.
day,  when  the
~     boys, tired with
play, had all ta                 ken their places
in the cheerful
fi,mily sitting-room, "Aunt Fanny,
I have often thought of that nice
long talk we had a month ago about
the snow. And as long as the snow
lay on the ground, I scarcely ever
looked at it without remembering
what you told us about it." 
AIR.
"I rejoice to hear it, my dear
ooy," said his aunt;" but you must
not think that snow is the only interesting thing in nature near you.
Every thing that God has made is
full of interest to those who search
into the properties and uses of His
works.  God reveals to us not only
his power, but his wisdom, and his
goodness, and many of his other
attributes in these creations of his,
which we daily see around us. Can
you remember, Willie, any passage
of Scripture which tells us this, and
says that even the heathen might
from his works have known much
of God, if their hearts had not been
so wicked as to mislead their understandings?"
"I think you refer, aunt Fanny,"
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40   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
said Willie, "to a part of the first
chapter of Romans, from about the
eighteenth to the twenty-fifth verse,
and more especially the twentieth
verse, where it says,' For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen,
being understood by the things
that are made, even his eternal
power and Godhead; so that they
are without excuse.'"
"Yes! that is it.  So you see we
ought to regard it as a duty as well
as a pleasure to learn all of God we
can, out of nature. It is true that
God reveals himself far more
clearly and filly to us in the Bible
than in nature, yet the lessons of
the latter, especially when studied
in the light of the Bible, are very
i 
AIR.
important, and may be made highly
profitable. But now, boys, as you
were pleased with our talk about
the snow, suppose that while the
sun is sinking so brilliantly behind
those purple clouds, we walk out
upon the lawn and have a talk about
the air."
"Oh yes! oh yes!" exclaimed the
boys, eagerly seizing their hats.
"But what can you find to tell us
about so simple and common a
thing as the air?"
"We  will see," said their kind
aunt.   "I  think  we  could find
enough in the subject to spend
many hours in talking over. But
we can only select a few principal
and interesting facts about it. In
4*
41 
42   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
the first place, can you tell me what
the air is?"
The boys were much puzzled.
Thley tried various definitions, but
no one was complete and correct.
" Well, let us skip the definition,
and get at the subject by recollecting that air is a fluid transparent
substance which surrounds outr globe.
As the earth moves rapidly in its
orbit around the surn, it floats, so to
speak, in this sea of air called the
atmosphere, which moves along
with it, always surrounding it."
"Is it known," asked Archie,
"how deep is this sea of air?"
i "Not precisely, but it is supposed
to be about forty miles in depth.
It is deeper, however, or reaches
farther up from the earth at the
PI
t
k 
AIR.
equator than at the poles. This is
owing partly to the rotation of the
earth causing the centrifugal force
to pile up the atmosphere, and
partly to the greater expansion of
it caused by the sun's more perpendclicular and warmer rays."
"Has any person ever been so
high as that?" asked little Samuel.
"No, indeed, my dlear," said his
aunt,  "no  human  being  could
breathe or live at a quarter of that
elevation. For as one ascends froin
the earth's surface the air grows
more and more rare, and at the same
time colder. The highest mountains on the earth are only about
five miles high, and the only other
possible way of reaching a great
height is by a balloon. In a balloon
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44   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
the ascension is caused by filling a
large light ball, generally made of
silk, with air or gas lighter than
the lower atmosphere. When a
man ascends a mountain, the cold
becomes more and more piercing,
and the peaks of the highest mountains, such as the Hinrmmraleh mountains in Asia, or the Alps in Europe, are covered with perpetual
snow. The same increasing coldness is felt by one ascending in a
balloon. Can you tell me, Archie,
what is the colour of the air?"
The boys all laughed loudly at
this question. "Why, aunt Fanny,"
said they, "it has no colour at all."
"There you are quite mistaken,
notwithstanding your laughter,"
said she. "The air is perhaps as
II
I
i
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I
i 
AIR.
nearly colourless as any substance
we know of, yet it has a colour
which can be seen when we look
through great masses of it. Stop
now a moment and look up into
that cloudless sky overhead. Do
you see any colour there?"
"Oh! yes, it is a bright and beautiful blue," said Willie, "that is the
shade of blue generally called azure,
is it not?'
" Yes. It is one of the most
delicate and most charming of all
colours. And it is susceptible of a
countless variety of changes and
shadings by the infusion of sunshine and of vapour or clouds.
HIence the ten thousand glories of
sunrise, and of sunset, and of cloudland, ever shifting and ever pre
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46   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
senting their magnificent views for
our admiration. What a pity it is,
my dear children, that multitudes
of people so seldom look at the sky,
and thus fail to enjoy these splendid
paintings from the Creator's own
hand. This is one way in which
' the heavens declare the glory of
God, and the firmament showeth
forth his handiwork.' Can either
of you tell me what air is made
of?"
Aunt Fanny's little listeners
looked up at her as if doubting
whether she were in earnest.
"Yes, what air is made of," she
continued.   "The  air is not one
simple substance but is a mixture
of several ingredients.  Its great
bulk is composed of nitrogen and
i
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II 
AIR.
oxygen, which are significant names
given to two gases by the chemists.
There are also very minute portions
of carbonic acid and other substances,
but nearly four-fifths of the bulk of
air is nitrogen, and nearly the remaining one-fifth is oxygen. Now
it is very remarkable that while no
animal can live if deprived of air,
yet neither of these two ingredients
when separated from the other will
answer in the place of air. If anv
animal be placed in a tight vessel
containing pure nitrogen it will at
once die. It will not sustain animal
life. On the contrary, any animal
placed in a vessel of pure oxygen
will die from an exactly opposite
cause. Pure oxygen possesses too
much life-giving power, it stimu
47 
48    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
lates the vital functions excessively,
and the animal dies fromn this cause.
Natural philosophers, after making
innumerable experiments with these
gases, have reached this clear conclusion, that these gases, mixed in
precisely the proportions in which
we find them in the atmosphere,
are in the highest possible degree,
adapted to the support of animal
life. You see then that just what
human science and research have
discovered to be best for us to
breathe, God had provided for us
from the beginning in the exhaustless profusion of this atmospheric
ocean. May you never forget, my
dear nephews, as long as you live,
that every breath of air you breathe,
contains in itself a most impressive 
AIR.
proof of the power, the wisdom, and
the benevolence of your heavenly
Father."
"What you tell us is wonderful,
aunt Fanny, truly wonderful," said
Willie. "But is there no danger
that in some way the proper proportion of oxygen may be diminished
and so the whole animal world be
reduced to suffering, if not to death?"
"No, my dear boy, so vast is the
supply which God has made, and
so wise and unfailing is the system
of chemical compensations he has
put in operation to replace all that
is used up, or in other words so unfailing is his providential care of
his creatures, that we need not fear
any such catastrophe. The only
real danger I think of at present
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49 
50    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
arises when a large number of persons are breathing the air of a very
close room. The lungs of a healthy,
I 
AIR.
full-grown man, inhale a bulk of
twenty cubic inches of air at every
inspiration, and he will use no less
than fifty-seven hogsheads in twentyfour hours. About two-fifths of the
oxygen is abstracted at every breath
and sent into the blood. Hence, if
a person sit long or sleep in a small
and very tight room, he breathes
the same air over and over, the
oxygen is in a great degree exhausted, and headache and languor
follow. You see from this the importance of having a sitting-room or bedroom well ventilated.  When a large
number of people are assembled, as
in a school-room or a church, the
importance of free ventilation is
still more urgent. I will tell you
of a dreadful occurrence which will
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52    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
illustrate this necessity. An hundred
and forty-six prisoners were once confined for a night in Calcutta'in a single
room only eighteen feet square. This
room, afterwards famous as'The
Black Hole,' had no sufficient aperture for the entrance of fresh air.
There was of course scarcely oxygen
enough for the comfortable supply
of one person.   The unfortunate
prisoners soon found themselves in
a state of unheard-of suffering,
which grew worse and worse every
moment. In the morning, all were
dead but twenty-three, and some
of these afterwards died. Should
God in judgment command the
oxygen away from the surface of
the earth for a very short time, all
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animal life, including our own,
would be utterly destroyed.
"Aunt Fannie," asked Archie,
"you spoke awhile ago about putting'lighter air' in a balloon. Has
air any weight?"
"Yes, Archie, it has weight, and
its weight has been carefully ascertained. A celebrated Italian philosopher named Galileo, first discovered that air had weight.   If a
balloon be weighed when empty,
and afterwards when filled with air,
it will be found to have gained
many pounds. One hundred cubic
inches of air weigh thirty and onehalf grains, or seven hundred and
seventy cubic inches of air weigh as
much as one cubic inch of water.
This weight continually presses on
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54    AUITNT FANNY'S HOME.
every point on the globe, and it is
this which causes liquids to rise in
sucking-pumps, in siphons, and in
the barometer.  You will be astonished to hear that the weight of air
which presses upon every medium
sized person is about forty-two
thousand four hundred and forty
pounds."
"Ho!  ho! aunt  Fanny,   exclaimed the boys; "why no man
could possibly lift so many pounds,
still less carry it about all the time
on his shoulders. Why it would
crush him into powder."
"Yes, so it would if it were any
thing else than air. But here again
the goodness and wisdom of God
are manifest.  He has made the air
to be so subtle a fluid, and so elas
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AIR.
tic, that surrounding him on every
side, and being even within him,
the pressure is precisely equal in
every direction, and hence he never
even perceives it. Should you,
however, take an empty bowl, and
after turning it upside down upon
a table, succeed in pumping all the
air out of it, so as to make what is
called a vacuum, you would find
yourself not strong enough to lift
that little bowl you had so often
handled. The reason would be,
that the air having been removed
from under it, the whole weight of
the atmosphere would come upon
its outside. And could you so place
a man as to remove the whole
weight of the air from one side of
him, and to leave it on the other
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56   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
side, every bone in his body would
be crushed to atoms."
"Dear aunt," said Willie, "what
a mercy indeed it is that the air is
made so thin as to find its way to
every place, and thus brace and
sustain us at the same time it
presses upon us.   I thought the
snow was interesting and wonderful
after you told us what you did
about it. But I now think the air
a thousand times more so."
"We have but touched, my dear
Willie, upon a few of the more interesting points. When you come
to study Natural Philosophy and
Chemistry, you will learn a thousand wonderful things about the
air, which we have not time now to
speak of."
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"How glad I shall be to study
those branches," said Archie. "I
wish I could begin them right away.
But I want to ask you to explain to
us something said in the Bible.
Why, aunt Fanny, is Satan called
' the prince of the power of the air?'
He is so called in Ephesians ii. 2.
The verse is in my Sabbath-school
lesson for next Sabbath."
"I am very glad, Archie, to see
you trying to glean knowledge out
of every subject to help you to a
better understanding of the blessed
book of God. I hope you will do
so as long as you live. Many opinions have been held in regard to
that designation of Satan.   Satan
is, however, frequently spoken of ill
the Bible as the chief or prince of
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58    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
the fallen angels, having authority
and control over them. And it is
equally clear that these fallen angels
or devils move invisibly through
the atmosphere, busy in the work
of tempting and destroying human
souls. In God's inscrutable wisdom
he allows Satan and his angels thus
to have liberty to rove about through
the regions of the air, doing all the
mischief he can over the whole
earth. So that when you look
around and see no one, you ought
never to forget that even through
these wide tracts of balmy and refreshing air, Satan and his subject
hosts are always prowling about,
'seeking whom he may devour.'
There is no safety save in a loving
trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, who
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is ever near us, and whose power
is infinitely greater than that of
Satan."
"And now, dear boys, it is time
for us to go in. The sun has sunk
behind the western horizon, and
night will soon be here. But look
once more at those gorgeous clouds,
piled one upon another like vast
mountain ranges. The scene reminds me of one predicted in the
word of God, and which each one
of us will be sure one day to see.
I mean the judgment-scene. Then
Jesus, the blessed Saviour, shall
come visibly among the clouds of
heaven. Upward through this blue
air'every eye' shall be turned to
gaze upon him. And while they
who pierced him by their sins, un
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60    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
repented, shall wail because of him,
all who shall have believed upon
him will be gathered in one grand
assembly around his shining throne.
Earth will be able to afford no
plain broad enough-no arena vast
enough for that countless concourse.
Therefore, when the' dead in Christ'
shall have' first' risen, then they
' which are alive and remain shall
be caught up together with them
in the clouds, to meet the Lord in
the air.' These wide-expanded fields
of azure ought to help keep us
always mindful of that solemn scene
which shall hereafter be presented
whenii in their blue depths the
throne of judgment shall be set,
and that vast assemblage gathered
there. May you, my dear boys, so
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live lives of faith on Jesus and obedience to his will, as to be all found
gathered safely then to his right
hand."
6
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62    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER IV.
WATER.
i      s    IHROUGH the val             1  ley stretching away
to the eastward in
front of aunt Fan               ny's  house,  there
flowed a beautiful
little river.   Into this, from the
hills on the other side, descended a
rivulet, leaping over many a cascade, and singing many a sweet
gurgling song upon its way. There,
where the winding rivulet glided
along with its delicious music, under
I 
WATER.
densely overhanging trees, was a
favourite resort for aunt Fanny and
her boys. Here we find them one
bright, sunny afternoon, sitting
upon the dry grassy bank of the
brooklet. Fromni their cool retreat
they could look down into the valley and trace the course of the shining river below, far, far away
towards the point where it emptied
into the deep, broad sea.
"Did you ever think, my dear
boys," said aunt Fanny, as they
seated themselves around her on
the grass, "what  an exceedingly
important and precious gift of God
is water? How indispensable it is
to man, every day and hour of his
life!  How essential it is for the
uses of commerce, for every branch
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64   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
of manufactures, for agriculture, for
every department of human industry?  Unless we should except the
air we breathe, I think it would be
very hard to name any greater or
more important gift bestowed upon
us by our Creator in all the works
of nature."
"Yes, aunt," said Willie, "I was
trying to think of that some days
ago, when I was walking near the
river, and I meant to ask you at
some future opportunity in one of
your nice talks, to take water as
your subject."
"' I am glad to hear what you say,
Willie," said his kind aunt. " It encourages me to hope that I may
have stimulated your thoughts into
greater activity upon this class of
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subjects. Never be content, amy
dear boy, to let your aunt, or any
other person, or any book, do all
your thinking for you. Try to do
your own thinking.  Get knowledge
from persons, or books, or observation, or wherever you can, but try
to combine anew the items of
knowledge you collect, to reflect
upon them often, and to draw fresh
inferences from them for yourself.
It is only by such a process you can
become a truly intelligent man.
Without it, however great may he
your store of knowledge, you can
only be a book-worm, perhaps even
a numskull. But let us return to
our proposed subject."
"Before you begin, aunt, please
allow me to ask you one question.
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66   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
When I was thinking about water
the other day, I remembered your
telling us that air was compounded
principally of two gases, and I
wondered whether the same was
true of water.  Is it so, aunt?"
"Yes, Willie, it's just so. Water
is made up of oxygen and hydrogen, each of which alone is an invisible and impalpable gas or air.
The proportions of these elements
in water are, one volume or bulk
of oxygen to two of hydrogen, or by
weight, eight of oxygen to one of
hydrogen. I will here mention one
curious  fact.   Hydrogen,  when
alone, is highly inflammable. If
set on fire, it combines with oxygen
from the air, and what kind of
ashes do you think it leaves? The
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result is water. Is it not singular,
that the fluid we usually regard as
the peculiar antagonist of fire,
should be formed by the action of
fire? And as water can thus be
made, so there is an easy way by
which it can be unmade. You have
only to lay a piece of iron in a vessel of water. Yery soon rust will
begin to form upon the iron, and
that rust is only the oxygen of the
water entering into combination
with the iron.   The iron  steals
away oxygen from the water and
solidifies it, and twice the bulk of
the oxygen thus stolen becomes
pure hydrogen gas, ceases to be
water, and disappears in the atmosphere. A chemist could show you
a thousand curious and instructive
,." lw
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68    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
experiments  with water  and its
components. But my object at present is not to instruct you in chemistry so much as to suggest some
things about water, adapted to show
God's goodness in this his important gift."
"I shall never forget," continued
aunt Fanny, "having once heard
Gough, the temperance lecturer,
eloquently apostrophize a glass of
pure water which he held in his
hand. It seemed like a new reve.
lation. I have never seen a glass
of pure sparkling water, from that
day to this, without thinking how
beautiful and how precious a liquid
it is. It has been both truly and
poetically called,' the wine of Eden.'
Indeed, there is no wine in the world
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to compare with a sparkling glass
of fresh spring water. And then,
boys, what a blessing it is to have
it to drink in such plenty. Were
we compelled to use any other beverage, such as wine or cider, or even
milk, as much as we do water, we
should very, very soon become most
heartily tired of it. Besides that,
it would very soon produce the
most injurious effects upon our
health, both bodily and intellectual.
But fresh water is always wholesome, never hurtful in any way.
We continue to drink it day after
day, year after year, and its only
tendency is to promote health
anrid lengthen life. We ought to
bless God every day for the re
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70   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
freshing draughts of this precious
beverage.
"And then, too, how plentifully
has God furnished to us this precious refreshment! From every
hillside and valley he has made it
to gush forth in copious springs.
In rivulets and brooks and rivers
he has caused it to flow everywhere for the free use of man and
all the lower animnals."
"Yes," said little Samuel, "even
the busy bee and the tiniest fly can
always find water. How much
water God has made for his creatures. Is it so all over the world,
aunt Fanny?"
"Yes, my dear boy, everywhere
except in those comparatively unimportant portions called deserts.
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Such as the great Desert of Sahara
in Africa, and the Arabian Desert
in Asia. Why it hath pleased God
to withhold his supplies from these
spots of our globe, we do not fully
know, but it is well for us to note
the effect of his doing so. And
when we see how the mere lack of
water can change a country into a
parched, barren, and almost impassable wilderness, where neither plant
nor animal can thrive, or even live,
it ought to make us the more deeply
thankful to God for having given to
ourselves and the whole race such
copious supplies."
"I have often wondered," said
Archie, "why it is that the rivers
and especially the springs never run
dry. There they are, their streams
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72     AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
running, running, running on, and
have been, I suppose, for thousands
of years, and yet they never get
empty. Why is that, aunt Fanny?"
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"Because, Archie, God has provided an immense reservoir, and
has so ordered the operations of nature that the fountains and the
streams are filled from that reservoir, just as fast as they flow.
Where does all the water go to,
Archie, that flows from all these
fountains and streams?"
"Sooner or later," said Archie,
"it finds its way into the ocean."
"Yes," said aunt Fanny, "and
the ocean is that mighty reservoir
to which I have referred. The
sight of even a little speck of ocean,
or a hands-breadth of it comparatively, is enough to fill one with awe
by a sense of its vastness. Oh how
well do I remember, when I was a
very little girl, to have once climbed
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with my dear old grandfather to the
top of a lofty promontory which
jutted out over the very waves.
Many were the deeply interesting
things he told me as we sat there
for hours, about the sea, and the
rocks, and the birds, and many
other things. But I could scarcely
keep my attention fixed, my soul
was so filled and oppressed with
a sense of the mightiness of the
ocean. And yet all I could see was
but a most insignificant little piece
of it.  For, do you know, boys, that
very nearly three-fourths of the
whole globe is covered by the ocean
with its bays and gulfs and seas."
"But," said little Samuel, " how
does this big ocean keep the rivers
from getting dry? How does the
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water get back again to the springs
after it has gone into the ocean? It
cannot turn around and run up hill
again."
"A very important question, my
dear little fellow. I will try to answer it.  God causes the warm sun
to shine  upon  the  ocean.   The
warmth causes the water to rise
continually as vapour from its surface. The winds and gentle breezes
sweep these vapours far away in
different directions over the land.
Sooner or later they become clouds.
Then they come in contact with cold
currents of air, or with the mountain-tops. They are condensed by
the cold into rain-drops or snowflakes, and down they come, to run
again in due time, into the springs
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76    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
and rivers, and then back to ocean.
So you see there is a continual compensation. The ocean is continually
giving back through the atmosphere
in snows and showers, what  the
land is giving to the ocean through
its rivers."
"It is truly wonderful. aunt
Fanny,"  said Willie.   "And  I
very well remember when uncle
George made us his last visit, that
he took me with him one day to the
tip-top of the mountain on the other
side of the valley yonder. While
we stood there he explained this
very thing to me, and pointed out
to me how, while the river was running towards the ocean all the time,
the clouds were that very moment
driving far in upon the land, before
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the wind.   And  I  remember  his
telling me, too, how God  in his in    7*
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78    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
finite wisdom and goodness so
ordered it, as to make just about
as much water go back upon the
land as ran out to sea. He said
that if God should send back too
much we would have destructive
floods; if he should send back too
little we would have terrible
droughts, and then the grains and
fruits of the earth would perish,
and men and animals must suffer
dreadfully. As it is, uncle George
said, God very rarely allows us to
experience either calamity severely,
only just enough now and then to
make us remember that He is the
Author of all our mercies, and how
easily he could withhold even the
commonest of them if he chose."
"I am rejoiced, Willie," said his
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good aunt, "that you have so well
remembered what your uncle George
told you. It encourages me to hope
that you will remember my words
also.  But, my  dear boys, it is
already beginning to grow late, and
we have as yet gone but a very little
way into our subject. We will now
return to the house, and if we are
not disturbed, will resume the subject in the evening. It is my fervent prayer for you all, that these
talks upon the incessant and beneficent workings of God's power and
goodness, may lead you truly to
love and to trust him. Remember,
what one of our hymns so sweetly
says,' He who fears God, has nothing else to fear.' He holds all the
powers and elements of nature
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80   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
under his supreme control, and he
has promised that he'will make
all things work together for good
to them that fear him.'"
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CHAPTER V.
WATER.
I -     CARCELY was the
tea-table cleared in
k  ~   the  evening,  when
the  boys  began to
urge their kind aunt
to resume the interesting conversation of the afternoon.
Accordingly, after attending to a
few necessary arrangements for the
household, she took her arm-chair,
and occupying her busy fingers
with a piece of knitting-work, remarked:
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82    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
"While we were taking our tea,
I observed an exemplification of a
natural law in relation to fluids,
to which I will call your attention
before passing to other matters.
While pouring out your tea, I noticed that the tea always stood at
the same level in the spout of the
teapot as in its main body. This
reminded me that it is an exceedingly important fact in regard to
water, that through whatever tight
channels, and to whatever distance
conducted, it will rise in them as
high as the fountain head. It is by
the action of this law that most
large cities are now supplied with
water.   In Philadelphia, for instance, the water with which the
city is supplied from Fairmount,
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is elevated by pumps worked by
water-power, to a reservoir on the
top of a hill. From this reservoir,
pipes pass under the ground to
every portion of the city, and to
almost every house therein. These
pipes may be carried up to the
highest stories of tall houses, and
the water flows freely through the
pipes up to any point not more
elevated than the reservoir at Fairmount. Thus water may be carried
in pipes from one mountain to another, under deep intervening valleys. And whenever it is desired,
an escape may be provided for the
water through a short branch tube,
when it will spirt high into the air,
forming a beautiful jet or fountain."
"But, aunt Fanny," cried Willie,
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WATER.
"if that is so, why did the ancients
build such vast and costly aqueducts to bring water into their
cities? I was reading very lately,
a book of travels, in which the magnificent aqueducts built to lead
water into various Grecian, Roman,
and Oriental cities were spoken of
and described. WThat was the use
of building these along mountainsides, and  across deep and wide
valleys  on  lofty arches, if they
could have led the water along the
surface of the ground through
pipes?"
"Your  question is well-timed,
my  dear  boy,"  said  his  aunt.
"There was no use whatever.  Had
they known as much about this
matter as is now known, they would
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have saved themnselves a vast
amount of labour and expense.
But in ancient times they understood very imperfectly, if at all, the
law to which I have adverted, that
water when confined will rise at
any distance to the level of the
fountain-head. You see here, boys,
a new proof of the value of natural
science. And I hope you will be
more ready than ever to be diligent
in its acquisition."
" Indeed, I shall, aunt Fanny,"
exclaimed Archie.  "And the next
time I go to Fairmount, I shall
look with more respect than ever
on the water-works, and the great
reservoir on the hill, and even on
the great ugly iron pipes. But
now, aunt Fanny, I want to ask
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you why it is that people often die
of thirst upon the ocean? I have
often read about ship-wrecked people who were in great distress for
water to drink, even while floating
upon the waves?"
"I will try to tell you, Archie,
with pleasure. The water of the
ocean is very far from being pure.
It contains a number of ingredients,
such as salt, soda, lime, magnesia,
and sulphuric and muriatic acids,
besides vast quantities of decomposed animal and vegetable matter.
These substances give to it an intensely bitter taste, and when it is
swallowed, cause it, instead of
quenching thirst, to create only a
far more intense and tormenting
thirst than before.  Yet even here
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88    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
we see God's goodness. For were
it not for the salt and other substances found in it, the vast ocean
might become a vast sheet, from
which foul and poisonous vapours
would carry pestilence and death
abroad over the earth."
"Thank you, aunt Fanny.  But
I want to ask another question,
if you please," said Archie, earnestly. "When I went with you
to the seaside, last summer, I found
it much easier to swim in the salt
water than it is in the fresh water
of our river. Why was that?"
"It was, Archie, because those
admixtures I have just spoken of,
made the salt water much heavier
than the fresh, and of course it was
correspondingly difficult for your
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body to sink into it. The water of
the Dead Sea-that monument of
wrath-contains one-fourth of its
weight of salt, iodine, bromine, and
other substances in solution, and
travellers tell us that a man can
hardly get entirely under its surface,
even when trying hard to do so."
"Oh!  aunt  Fanny,"  shouted
Samuel, "I heard Biddy say something so funny the other day. It
was washling-day, and Biddy said
to the cook, that the water in her
tub was so hard she could scarcely
wash with it. I thought at first it
must be frozen into ice, but the
weather was too warm for that.
What did Biddy mean, aunt
Fanny?"
"Well, Samuel, I suppose Biddy
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90   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
herself could not very well have
explained what she meant. But the
term hard is very often applied to
water containing some chemical
compound of lime in larger quantities than usual.  This lime decomposes the soap which is used in it,
and thus prevents it from having
any cleansing effect. But hard is a
strange word to apply to a liquid,
sure enough, my boy."
"I have often wondered," said
Willie, "how it is that a fish can
breathe in the water. Won't you
tell us, aunt Fanny?"
"I cannot go into a full explanation, Willie, for it would take a
long time. This much, however,
I can easily tell you. All water
which is long exposed to the atmos
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pllere, such as spring or river water,
absorbs a considerable quantity of
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air. The breathing apparatus of
the fish is adapted to separate this
air from the water. By the help
of its gills, after having taken in a
quantity of water through its
mouth, it can eject the water and
retain the air."
"When uncle George was here,
aunt Fanny," cried little Samuel,
"he went a fishing one day, and pulled a beautiful great fish out of the
brook. Little cousin Emma tried
to hold it, but it flounced about so,
she could not. It appeared to be
in great pain, and to grow weaker
and weaker, until at last it was
dead."
"That was because God, the Allwise Creator, had adapted its organs
to breathe in the water, and there
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only. When drawn out of the
water, there was such an excess of
air as to overpower it and destroy
its life.  Poor thing! I hope you
pitied it. And I hope, dear boys,
you will never wantonly inflict pain
on any creature of God. To catch
fish for food, I consider allowable,
but to catch them only to sport
with their sufferings, is very cruel.
"But while the fish could not
live out of the water, one of you
boys could not live in it, and for
the same general reason, because
God has formed you to live and
breathe on dry land. A few years
ago, 1 was visiting at a beautiful
town on the banks of the Susque  hanna. A poor lad had fallen from
the deck of a boat and been drowned.
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94   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
I happened to pass by just as his
body had been brought to the bank,
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WATER.
and laid on the grass under the
large trees. It was a sad, sad sight.
But you see, my dear nephews,
since sin has come into the world,
death has followed it. Now, every
one of those elements which was
created  by  infinite  benevolence,
and contains in itself so many
sources of blessing to mankind, may
easily become to him a source of
pain and death. All this has been
deserved. God now speaks to us,
you see, every where in his works,
in mingled tones of goodness and
of wrath.
"In God's blessed word, water is
used as an emblem of a variety of
sweet and precious things. Can
either of you repeat to me any delightful invitation of the Old Testa
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96    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ment, in which salvation by Christ
and its attendant blessings are offered under the image of abundant
water?"
The boys thought a moment.
"Oh, yes, yes, aunt Fanny," cried
Willie, " in Isaiah, chap. lv. 1, is
the invitation,' Ho! every one that
thirsteth, come ye to the waters."'
"Very well. Now, Archie, where
is there a similar invitation in the
New Testament?"
" In the last chapter of Revelation,' Let him that is athirst come.
And whosoever will, let him take
the water of life freely.'"
"Right. And there are many
other such. Now when you think
how abundant is the supply of
water furnished to man and beast,
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WATER.
what countless springs. and neverfailing brooks, and noble rivers,
every where give opportunity to
slake one's thirst, never forget that
just so abundant and so without price
are the blessings of salvation which
God offers in his Gospel to every poor
sinner. The worst and wretchedest
sinner on the face of the earth need
not perish. Let him accept God's
free offer, and he will live and be
happy for ever. Whenever you
see an exhaustless fountain or a
flowing river, try to remember this.
"Water is also a divinely appointed emblem of the Holy Spirit
in his sanctifying and refreshing
influences.  Under this image, the
Saviour promised the presence
and indwelling of the Holy Spirit
9
'.
ee eee.
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98    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
to his disciples. To the woman of
Samaria, at Jacob's well, he said,
' Whosoever drinketh of this water
shall thirst again but whosoever
drinketh of the water that I shall
give him shall never thirst; but
the water that I shall give him
shall be in him a well of living
water, springing up unto everlasting  life.'   John  iii. 13,  14.
'Jesus stood and cried, saying, If
any man thirst, let him comne unto
me and drink. He that believeth
on me, as the Scripture hath said,
out of his belly shall flow rivers of
living water.  But this he spake of
the Spirit, which they that believe
on him should receive.'   John vii.
37-39. Every true believer would
find this world but a dry and thirsty
!"    ""''   * 
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WATER.
desert indeed, if the Saviour did'
not fulfil this promise to his faith,
and, at the same time, refresh, and
cheer, and sanctify him by this
blessed gift of an indwelling Spirit.
In these promises, what a precious
significance has our Saviour given
to water, by thus making it an emblemn of the Divine Spirit.   Can
you tell me, Archie, what terrible
punishment God once inflicted on
this world by the agency of water?"
"You refer to the Deluge, aunt
Fanny,"  replied  Archie,  "when
God caused the whole earth, even
the tops of the highest mountains
to be overflowed, and all mankind
drowned, except eight persons whom
he saved in the Ark."
"Aunt Fanny," broke in little
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100 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
Samuel, "you were telling us this
afternoon, that the deep ocean covered three-fourths of the world,
and how much water there is besides in the rivers, and the clouds,
and everywhere. Now, if the people should get very wicked again,
would not God send another deluge
to destroy them, as he did in the
days of Noah?"
"He  could do so, undoubtedly,
my dear boy. His infinite power
is adequate to do it whenever he
would.   But  we  may rejoice in
knowing that he will not. He has
given us an express promise that
there shall no more be a flood to
destroy the earth. And in token
of this promise he has set the rainbow in the heavens. Gen. ix. 11-15.
."  ".'..
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WATER.
Whenever you see that brilliant
arch in the sky, remember that by
it God is saying to all mankind,
'Be not afraid.  I remnember my
promise. I will never permit another Deluge to come upon the
earth.'
"It is now growing late, and we
must get to sleep. But there is one
thing I will add which will perhaps
increase your interest hereafter in
the subject of our conversations today. It is this:-An extraordinary
number of the miracles recorded in
the Bible were wrought by the
agency of water, far more than by
any other element.   Let me just
remind you of a few of them. Moses
turned the water of Egypt into
blood. The same prophet after    9*
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102 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
wards divided the waters of the
Red Sea, and made them stand up
like walls on either side as the
Israelites marched  through.   In
the wilderness, he converted bitter
waters into sweet. He smote a
hard rock, and a stream gushed
forth and followed the host, supplying them with drink upon their
weary  march.   The  waters  of
Jordan were divided before Joshua,
as the Red Sea had been before
Moses. Elijah prayed, and God
sent fire from heaven, which licked
uip the abundant water he had
poured upon and around his altar.
Elisha cast salt into the fountain at
Jericho, and its waters were changed
from bad to good. The same prophet caused an iron axe to swim
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WATER.
upon the surface of a stream. The
first miracle of Jesus was the changing of water into wine. He commanded the stormy sea, and its
waves were immediately hushed
into a callm.  He walked upon the
water as safely as upon dry land,
and enabled the apostle Peter to do
likewise. But I have not time to
mention others. Do you remember,
Willie, any mention of water as being found in heaven?"
"Yes, aunt Fanny, there are such
mentions of it in several passages;
especially is it thus spoken of in the
book of Revelation. Here is one
which I learned in Sabbath-school
some  time  since.'They shall
hunger no more, neither thirst any
more, * * * for the Lamb which is
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104 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
in the midst of the throne shall feed
them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters.' Rev. vii.
16, 17. And here is another from
the description of the New Jerusalem.'And he showed me a pure
river of water of life, clear as
crystal, proceeding out of the throne
of God and of the Lamnb.'" Rev.
xxii. 1.
"Very well.  I am glad you have
such texts in your memory.  Water,
then, may remind us of salvation,
both as begun here on earth, and
completed hereafter in the skies.
Here, they who believe on Jesus
Christ, enjoy draughts of'living
water.'   But these are foretastes
only, yonder they may approach the
'river of the water of life' and drink
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WATER.
at will forever of its abundant flow.
Mty dear boys, may you never look
again upon a fountain or a stream
of water without remembering these
very precious truths."
105 
106 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER VI.
FIRE.
HE    evening was
chilly, and the wind
whistled shrilly
around the corners
of the house. The
Autumn was not far
advanced, but so cold had been the
afternoon that a blazing fire had
been kindled on the hearth. As
aunt Fanny and her nephews turned
away from the tea-table, they were
not sorry to cluster around the
cheerful blaze, and derived from it
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FIRE.
a feeling of unusual comfort. When
they had quietly settled themselves
in their positions, Willie remarked
with animation,
'"Aunt Fanny, you have told us
many surprising things about air
and water, but it seems to me that
fire must be one of the most interesting things with which we are
familiar.  Won't you lay aside your
book this evening, and talk to us
about fire?"
"With pleasure, my dear Willie.
I think we shall find fire one of the
most mysterious and remarkable of
the things we daily see. And I fear
that I shall be compelled to pass
over many of its most wonderful
qualities and phenomena, lest I take
you deeper into the science of
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108   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
chemistry than you are yet prepared to go. Even the most eminent chemists and natural philosophers have found themselves unable
to this day to answer many questions in regard to the exact nature
and origin of this powerful agent."
"Oh, please skip all the hard
things  which  have  puzzled  the
scholars, aunt Fanny," cried Archie, "and tell us such things as we
can easily understand."
"Very well, Master Archie," said
his aunt, tucking him good-naturedly
under the chin, "we shall try not to
overtask your youthful wits.
"Fire is probably, next to water
and food, most absolutely and universally necessary to man. He needs
it to defend himself against cold, to
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FIRE.
cook his food, to forge his utensils,
and for innumerable other uses.
Hence it is one of the first and most
important of all agencies in aiding
the advance of civilization. But
while in ten thousand ways fire acts
the part of a most useful servant, it
sometimes proves itself a terrible
master. Did you ever see a house
on fire, Willie?"
"0, yes, I remember once when
I was in New York, there was a
terrible fire in the evening. I ran
thither with ulncle George. There
was a crowd gathered around a
burning house. At an upper window appeared a poor woman, almost
crazy with fright. She was at last
safely rescued, but it was by hard
work.   The  flames  roared  and
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110    AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
crackled and whirled through and
around the house terribly."
"Persons are not seldom burned
f- -—.
(.vr. 
mI,
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FIRE.
to death. Vast quantities of valuable property also are often destroyed bv fire in large cities. Hence
the formation of fire insurance companies, by which device any loss is
divided among a large number of
persons, and is heavily felt by none.
Hence, also, the invention of the
fire-eng,ine, worked usually of late by
steam power, for the extinction of
conflagrations. The improvement
in these has in recent times been so
great that they can ordinarily very
soon extinguish even a large fire.
But in past years New York and
Philadelphia, and other large cities,
have suffered severely. In the year
1666 a great fire occurred in London,
which burned over thirteen thousand houses. The flames at one time
ill 
112  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
formed a column a mile in diameter,
and seemed to reach the clouds,
while its effect upon the sky was
visible even in Scotland. The most
terrific work performed by fire, however, is when it destroys a ship at
sea. Then, especially if the weather
is at all tempestuous, there is ordinarily no escape for crew and passengers from sudden death. Some
of the most thrilling tales of human
peril and loss of life the world has
ever read have been narratives of
ships destroyed by fire at sea."
Aunt Fanny," said Willie, " I
not long since read of a people
somewhere who worshipped fire.
Will you tell us about them?"
"Yes, Willie.  The  brightness
and beauty of fire, and its benefi
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FIRE.
cent yet terrible power, caused it to
become, at an early day in the
wcrld's history, an object of vene    10 *
113 
114 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ration and worship. The first distinct sect of fire-worshippers arose
in Persia, where they were called
Guebres, and spread through India,
where they are called Parsees. They
are a people peculiar in their habits
and customs. Their chief distinguishing characteristic is that they
worship fire, in which they find an
image of the incomprehensible God.
They offer their prayers before a
holy fire, which they maintain burning uninterruptedly on their holy
places.   This  holy fire they say
their great prophet Zoroaster kindled four thousand years ago."
"I have read of fires taking place
which no person had kindled. Do
you think such a thing is possible,
aunt Fanny?" said Archie.
N
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FIRE.
"Yes, Archie, it not seldom happens. Certain substances exposed
to the action of the atmosphere undergo chemical changes by which
they may be set on fire. Even living  persons may  be exposed  to
this danger.   There are reputed
instances in which the bodies of
drunkards have become so saturated
with alcoholic spirits as to take fire
apparently without cause and be
burned to death. Such occurrences
are called instances of spontaneous
combustion."
"I heard two men talking one
day," said little Samuel, "about a
sort of fire they called a' Jack-o'lantern.' What do you think it
was, aunt Fanny?"
"It is an appearance, my dear
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116 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
boy, said to be sometimes seen in
low grounds. It may be caused by
the spontaneous or accidental combustion of some gaseous substance
arising from decayed animal or vegetable matter. Sometimes this flame
is borne along and swayed up and
down by a breeze, so as to give it
the appearance of a lantern carried
in some person's hand. This appearance formerly was, and indeed is
even yet, a source of great terror to
ignorant and superstitious persons.
It has been variously called' Jacko'-lantern,''Will-o'-the-wisp,' and
'igtnis fatuus.' I trust, my dear
boys, you will never allow your
minds to be degraded and held in
bondage by any such superstitious
terrors." 
FIRE.
I In the history I was reading
not long since," observed Archie,
"I found that fire was used in England and Scotland for making signals at thle approach of an invading
fleet or army. Piles of dry wood
would be prepared on every conspicuous hill-top along the boundary or sea-coast, and a man stationed by each pile ready to fire it
in an instant. No sooner was one
fire kindled than that on the next
hill-top blazed up also, and then
the next, and the next, and so on
for hundreds of miles, and thus all
the people knew that the enemy
was approaching."
"That was the telegraph of those
ruder days, Archie. Those fires
were called beacon-fires. The same
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118  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
was anciently done in Palestine, on
the approach of the Feast of the
Passover. On the proper evening,
appointed persons climbed the
Mount of Olives and kindled a
great heap of faggots. This blaze
could be seen afar off. Then another and another blaze would appear, and so they would extend
from one mountain top to another,
until all the land was illuminated,
fromin Olivet to Lebanon. This was
the signal announcing that the time
for celebrating the Passover had
come."
"What is meant, aunt Fanny,"
inquired Willie, "by the expression
of passing'through the fire,' so
often used in the Scriptures? The
Jews are said in several places to
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FIRE.            1
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120   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
have made their children to pass
through the fire, and it seems to
have been some great crime of
which they were guilty."
" It was indeed an awful sin.
Jehovah is the only true God, and
he was by solemn covenant the
God of the Israelites. But they
often forsook him entirely, and
worshipped the gods of the surrounding heathen nations. Amnong
these was Moloch, a false god worshipped by the Ammonites. To
this god human beings were offered
in sacrifice, and to him the apostate Israelites offered as sacrifices
their sons and daughters. Diodorus
Siculus, and after him the Jewish
Rabbins, tell us that the iiriage of
Moloch was made of brass, and
i 
FIRE.
seated on a brazen throne.  The
head was that of a calf with a crown
upon it.  The throne and image
were made hollow, and a furious
fire was kindled beneath it. The
flames ascended into the form of the
idol, and when the body and arms
were red-hot, the poor victim was
thrown into them and thus burned
to death, while its cries were drowned by the beating of drums. Truly,
heathenism hardens the heart and
brutalizes the nature. To this day
you know how in India widows
ascend the pyres and are burned
alive with the bodies of their dead
husbands. And the sentiment of
the heathen community causes the
widow to be despised and shunned
who shrinks from such self-immola
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122   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
tlon. How true it is that the only
safety of man is in knowing the
true God, and keeping his commandments."
"Yet wicked as are those Hindoos, aunt Fanny," observed Archie, "I have never thought them
half so bad as were those professed
Christians who took good men and
women, and burned them at the
stake. I not long ago read' Fox's
Book of Martyrs,' and it is horrible
to think of such cruelties as were
practiced on good people only for
reading the Bible and worshipping
God in their own way."
"Yes, Archie, some of the most
terrible scenes in the world's history
are those connected with the Christian martyrs. The wickedness of 
FIRE.
those who inflicted such tortures
and deaths was vastly aggravated
by the knowledge of God's will they
had, or might and ought to have
drawn from his holy word. Yet the
early history of Christianity is filled
wvith records of these dreadful persecutions of the saints of God. On
one occasion, after a great conflagration in Rome, it was given out that
the Christians had set fire to the
city. Thereupon the cruel Emiperor
Nero caused large numbers of them
to be seized and smeared with pitch
and other combustible materials.
They were then tied to stakes in the
public gardens and squares and set
on fire.
" Then in later centuries came
the terrible persecutions of the true
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124  AUNT FAN.NY'S HOME.
children of God by papal authority.
MNen and women, the young and the
aged, were dragged before the tribunal of the Inquisition.  By the
application of cruel tortures, confessions- were sometimes extorted
from themselves or from other witnesses.   They were then usually
bound to a stake, faggots were piled
around them, and their bodies were
burned to ashes. Many thousands
of devoted  Christians were  thus
murdered in the times preceding
the Reformation. The world will
never forget the names of John
Huss, Jerome of'Prague, and many
other noble men who thus, died for
conscience sake, going up to heaven
as in a chariot of fire."
"Aunt Fanny," inquired little 
FIRE.
Samuel, "where does the fire in the
volcanoes come from?"
" That is not an easy question to
answer with certainty, my dear
Samuel," said his fond aunt, patting him on the head.  "The most
commonly received theory is that
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the whole interior of our globe is a
mass of liquid fire, and that the
gradual cooling and contraction of
the earth's exterior causes this liquid
fire to issue violently through the
apertures found in these volcanoes.
It is supposed the entire globe was
once a ball of fire, whirling along in
its orbit. As the outside cooled
very slowly, it formed a crust, growing thicker and thicker, upon which
vegetable and animal life were afterwards called into being. This supposition seems to be confirmed by
the fact that the deeper we descend
into the bowels of the earth, the
warmer the temperature becomes.
The existence of many warm springs,
such as the geysers of Iceland, is
also cited in support of this theory. 
FIRE.
Some men of science have ventured
the assertion that this crust is not
more than a hundred miles in thick
ness, scarcely thicker, in proportion
to the earth's diameter, than is the
shell of an egg to the egg's diameter."
"0 dreadful!" exclaimed Willie.
"Why, aunt Fanny, suppose this
crust should one day somehow be
broken or crushed in, what would
become of us and all living creatures
on the earth's surface?"
" Of course all would perish,
Willie, without some special exertion of Divine power in our behalf.
But we are always and everywhere
necessarily dependent on God, the
Almighty Creator and our Heavenly
Father. We must learn to trust
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him in all things, and he has graciously promised that all who do
trust him shall ever be safe under
his protecting care. There have
been those who supposed that the
final destruction of the world would
be brought about in some such way
as you just now supposed. Indeed,
the Bible seems to teach us plainly
that fire is to be the great agent in
accomplishing that purpose of God.
The Apostle Peter says, in his second epistle, chap. iii. 10, that' the
elements shall melt with fervent
heat, the earth also and all the
works that are therein shall be
burned up.' But, as I have said,
we ought not to be terrified by such a
contemplation, but only be incited
more earnestly to put our whole 
FIRE.
trust in Jesus Christ, our Divine
Redeemer, and to keep God's commandments."
"I have often noticed," said Archie, "when reading my Bible, that
God is said to reveal himself in fire.
It seems to make him very terrible.
Why is this so, aunt Fanny?"
"The fact is as you have stated,
Archie, and I am pleased with
every new evidence that you read
your Bible with careful attention.
Fire seems to be a most fitting emblem of the Divine justice. God's
appearing in fire is a warning to
every sinner that God is a God of
infinite justice, and that if he relies
only on that justice it will destroy
him for ever, just as fire would consume his body. Hence he appeared
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as a flame of fire to Moses in the
burning bush, and descended on
Sinai to deliver the tables of the
law, surrounded with thunderings
and lightnings. The fire which consumed the sacrificial victims upon
which sins, typically transferred,
were confessed, indicated the same
soleminn truth. And so, when the day
of repentance and of mercy to the
finally impenitent shall have passed,
we are told that even the Lord
Jesus shall appear to them in'flaming fire, taking vengeance."'
"Do you suppose, aunt Fanny,"
said Willie, " that in the eternal
world fire will really and truly be
made an instrument in punishing
the lost, or are those passages which 
FIRE.
so represent it, to be figuratively
understood?"
"Mlany of the most terrible passages in God's word represent the
lost as enduring everlasting torments caused by the fierce agency
of fire. Thus Isaiah the prophet
puts the solemn question,'Who
among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall
dwell with everlasting burnings?'
The Saviour speaks of them that go
down to hell as passing' into the
fire that never shall be quenched,'
and elsewhere as being driven from
the judgment seat' into everlasting
fire prepared for the devil and his
angels.' These words are fearfully
significant of the keenest sufferings
conceivable. Whether literal fire
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will be employed in the infliction
of eternal retribution has been a
subject of much controversy.  But
man combines in himself two natures, a corporeal and a spiritual.
Both are in this world made the
subjects of divine judgments.  Corporeal as well as mental pains are
inflicted from God in punishment
for sin. And we can see no reason
why it may not be equally the case
in the place of despair. The body
after the resurrection will no less
than the mind be made a vehicle of
anguish to the finally lost.   The
whole subject is full of solemn
warning. My earnest prayer is,
my dear boys, that you will all give
such heed to God's threatenings, as
well as to his gracious offers of par 
FIRE.
don and salvation through Jesus
Christ, as to escape that anguish
and secure a place in heavenly happiness. Meanwhile, may each of
you be able to see such significance
in these threatenings, that you shall
never look upon a flame of fire
without offering an earnest prayer
that Jesus in his infinite mercy may
pluck you, a poor hell-deserving
sinner,'as a brand from the burning.'
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134 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER VII.
LIGHT.
T was one of the de            lights of aunt Fannfy
~  s ~ and  her  nephews to
r i s e very early, on a
bright, clear morning,
and take a ramble
over the beautiful country in the
vicinity of their pleasant home.
It is wonderful that so few persons
living in the country turn these
charming hours of early day to any
good  account.   People  in large
cities have a tolerable excuse for 
LIGHT.
lying in bed later, but in the country, where the rising sun, the green
fields, and the songs of the birds
may be made to add so much to
the pleasure of life, they who fail to
make good use of the early hours,
lose a choice portion of their existence.
One morning early, as our little
party strolled forth, the sun was
just peeping above the horizon, the
birds were already singing gaily,
the golden clouds were scattered
over the eastern sky, and the variegated lights and shadows were lying
in charming intermixture over all
the landscape.
"Did it ever occur to you, my
dear boys," said aunt Fanny, as
they walked along, "to how great
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a degree we are dependent upon
light? I think it not improbable
that, en)joyinrg it so profusely and
constantly, you have scarcely ever
inquired what light is, and how
many benefits we derive from it."
"No,"  said  Archie,  "I  don't
think I ever did. Will you not
tell us, aunt Fanny?"
"It is a question easier asked
than answered, Archie. Natural
philosophers have speculated and
written much upon the subject, but
I doubt whether they have ever
reached conclusions in regard to
the nature of light quite satisfactory
to themselves. Some have regarded
it as itself a subtle fluid; others
have regarded it as a vibration
propagated from the illuminating 
LIGHT.
body. A book on familiar science
which I lately saw, defined light as
the'rapid undulations of a fluid
called ether, made sensible to the
eye by striking on the optic nerve,
as sound is produced by undulations of air striking on the ear.'
The same book added in a note,
'This theory of light is not altogether satisfactory, but has been given
as the most plausible hitherto propounded.' I think, however, we
will not perplex ourselves just now
about the question what light is.
We will leave that for the philosophers to settle."
"Oh yes, aunt Fanny," exclaimed
little Samuel, "I cannot understand
what that book says. Please skip
that, and tell us something easy and
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interesting about light. You can
always tell us something interesting, no matter what it is we talk
about."
"Thank you, master Samuel, but
it is because every thing God has
made is full of interest, if we will
only take the requisite pains to observe and study his works. Well,
the first thing I will tell you about
it is that, like all other things we
know of, light takes time to travel."
"Why, then," asked Willie, " do
we never see it move?"
"Because, Willie, it moves so fast
that our senses cannot take note of
its motion. The ancients believed
it to be propagated from the sun
and other luminous bodies instantaneously to the vastest distances. 
LIGHT.
But modern science has not only
detected its motion, but has measured its rapidity. Now how fast
do you suppose that light travels?
You know that when a railroad car
goes fifty miles an hour we think it
is prodigiously rapid in its motion.
A ball fired from a cannon cannot be made to go faster than at the
rate of about five hundred miles per
hour. Yet light actually travels at
the rate of two hundred thousand
miles per second, or, in other words,
passes over a distance equal to eight
times around the wor]d while you
can count one. Hence it takes each
ray of light a little less than eight
minutes to reach our earth in coming from the sun."
"What  a wonderful traveller,"
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140 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
said Archie.  "I shall hereafter feel
more respect for the sunshine. I
read lately in Milton's Paradise
Lost, that the angel Uriel came from
heaven to earth riding upon a sunbeam. What a swift journey he
must have made:"
"Yes," said aunt Fanny, "that
was the very idea which the poet
desired to convey to his readers.
The riding upon the sunbeam is, of
course, only a poetic way of expressing it."
"I wish now to tell you another
wonderful thing in regard to light.
If I were to ask you the colour of
light, you would probably say it
had no colour at all.  Yet does
every ray or pencil of light combine and contain in itself every dis 
LIGHT.
tinct or original colour found in all
nature. Modern science has found
a way to dissect, so to speak, a sunbeam, and separate it into red,
orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo,
and violet. It can even tell exactly
in what proportions these several
colours enter into the composition
of each ray."
"Why, aunt Fanny," exclaimed
Willie, "those are exactly the seven
colours which we see in the rainbow.
After the shower had passed over,
a few days ago, I sat a long while
on the bank of the river, watching
the changes in the magnificent rainbow which appeared in the sky. I
tried to count the colours, and
thought I could plainly distinguish
just those seven."
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142  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
"You were right, Willie. The
rainbow is one of the most beautiful and extraordinary phenomuena
to be seen in nature. It is produced
by the sunbeams striking at a particular angle, upon the particles of
watery vapour floating in the air,
thus causing a dispersion of the 
LIGHT.
colours. God has especially appointed the rainbow to remind
mankind of a great and merciful
promise which he once made to the
human race. Can you tell me,
Archie, what that promise was?"
"Yes,"  said Archie, "after the
flood, God promised Noah that he
would never again send a deluge on
the earth to destroy mankind. We
had the story in our Sabbath-school
lesson a few weeks ago. It is in the
ninth chapter of Genesis."
"If that was the case, can you not
repeat to me the words of God's
promise?"
"I  think I can," said Archie.
"' And God said, This is the token
of the covenant which I make between me and you and every living
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144 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
creature that is with you, for perpetual generations: I do set my
bow in the cloud, and it shall be for
a token of a covenant between me
and the earth. And it shall come
to pass, when I bring a cloud over
the earth, that the bow shall be
seen in the cloud: And I will
remember my covenant which is
between me and you and every living creature of all flesh, and the
waters shall no more become a flood
to destroy all flesh.'"
"Right, Archie.  I am gratified
by your correctness in repeating.
The very words of the Bible, once
thoroughly stored in the memory,
are an invaluable treasure for one's
whole life. In the light of the Bible
how significant as well as beautiful 
LIGHT.
a sight is the rainbow. Whenever it
appears in the sky, God speaks to
us by it impressively and mercifully.
How great a pity that so many persons have their heads filled only
with silly or superstitious notions
in regard to the rainbow!"
13
145 
146  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER VIII.
LIGHT.
HE tea-things had
f  ~   8$all been cleared
I;      ~ away.  The even             ing was bright and
lovely.  Aunt Fan              ny called to her
three nephews to get their hats and
take their customary walk. They
were no sooner fairly off than little Samuel cried out, "Aunt Fanny,
when we were walking yesterday
morning you began to talk to us
about light, and were just telling us 
LIHIGT.
some  wonderful  things about it,
when you were interrupted. Will
you not go on now and tell us more
about it? Ever since you told us
how each ray of light combined all
the colours in itself, I have noticed
more the effects of light, and am
surprised to find how many beauties it is all the time producing."
"Yes, my dear boy, attention is
the great thing one needs in order
to find the world full of beautiful
things all the time. Every touch
of God's hand is productive of
beauty. It is only human sin which
has brought ugliness into the world.
But let us return to our theme.
What was I telling you when we
were interrupted?"
"You had been telling us," said
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148 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
Samuel, "about the rainbow, and
how God had made it a token of
his covenant not to drown the world
again. And you left off with saying how great a pity it was that so
many persons had their heads filled
only with silly or superstitious notions about the rainbow."
"I remember now. I have heard
of a great many such notions entertained among the ignorant and
foolish."
" Oh yes, aunt Fanny," cried
Willie, "I  remember that some
months ago I walked out one afternoon with Robert Simpson. As
we went along there appeared a
beautiful rainbow. Robert was in
a state of great excitement. He
said his old grandmother had told 
LIGHT.
him that whoever searched at the
foot of a rainbow, where it rested
on the earth, would be sure to find
there a pot of gold. He was quite
provoked when I laughed at his
nonsense, and ran off over the hill
to find the foot of the rainbow and
the pot of gold. I think he must
have run a long while before he
found  either.   Just  then  uncle
George came along, and when I
told him what Robert had gone
after, he at first laughed, but then
looked sad, and said it was very
wicked for people to put such silly
and false notions into the heads of
children."
"Your uncle George spoke the
truth.  It is very wicked to teach
children falsehoods."
13*
149 
150  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
"Will you tell us, aunt Fanny,"
said Archie, "how it is that daguer 
LIGHT.
reotypes or photographs are taken
by the simple use of light?"
"I have not time, my dear boy,
to explain the process minutely, but
can give you perhaps a general idea
of it. The light of the sun is capable of producing powerful chemical
changes  in  certain  substances.
Among the substances thus affected, is the white chloride of silver.   This  therefore  is  spread
upon a flat prepared surface which
is placed in a darkened box or
camera obscura. By suddenly removing the covering from the glass
of the box, the image to be pictured
is with the aid of sunlight cast upon
the prepared surface. The chemical action of the light rapidly causes
there such changes in the colour of
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152 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
the surface as to leave the image
pictured on it. It is a truly wonderful invention, and is every day
applied to new and more extended
uses."
"You say, aunt Fanny," inquired
Archie, " that a sunbeam contains
in itself all the colours of the rainbow, and also that it is capable of
producing chemical changes. Do
you suppose that all the colours
which adorn objects around us on
the face of the earth are derived
from the action of light?"
"I would hardly dare to assert
it, Archie," replied his aunt, " yet
Ithinkitextremelyprobable. Were
all light for a long time excluded
from our atmosphere, and then
suddenly admitted again, I have 
LIGHT.
little doubt but the colours of
animals and plants would all be
found to have disappeared. When
celery is raised in the garden, by
heaping the earth against it, it is
made white, i. e., colourless. Any
plant grown under cover without
light will be without colour. All
the beautiful flowers too, which so
beautify the face of the earth, owe
the variety and intensity of their
hues to the influence of the solar
beams.   Something of this effect
you can see every day in the sun's
power to brown or'tan,' as it is
familiarly called, the skin of a child
when exposed to the sun's rays.  A
little girl showed me the other day
a ring of white skin around one of
her fingers. The whole hand had
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154 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
been browned by exposure to the
sun's rays, except the part protected
by a gold ring. This part remained
a clear white. This tanning is the
result of a chemical effect of the
sun's rays upon the tissues of an exposed skin. A comparison between
the animals inhabiting the polar
and tropical regions of the earth,
and between the parts of their bodies
exposed and those not exposed to
the light, will shew that their colours
materially depend upon the chemical
influence of light. Thus God is continually painting our world with a
pencil of his own."
"Do you suppose, aunt Fainy,"
inquired Willie, "that light has any
connection with the health and
strength of animals?" 
LIGHT.
" Most undoubtedly, my dear
boy," she replied.  "A house or a
particular room into which the sunshine never comes is unwholesome
and its air injurious to the health.
All animals, man included, need to
be much in the bright sunlight, and
can never be equally healthy without it. And now, master Samuel,
as I have answered many questions,
I want to ask one of you. Can you
tell me where the first light came
from?"
"Yes," he replied, "in the first
chapter of Genesis it is said that
' darkness was upon the face of the
deep,' until God said,' Let there be
light, and there was light.'"
"Very well, my boy. Now I
wish you to notice that light was
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156 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
produced by an instantaneous exertion of divine power. The command which evoked it from darkness is justly regarded as the sublimest utterance on record. Observe
now that while light was created on
the first of the six days, the sun and
moon were not set as'lights in the
firmament of heaven' until the
fourth day. For three days therefore there was light upon the earth
without the agency of the sun and
moon. Then God called the present arrangement into existence,
making the sun the great source of
our supply,' to rule the day,' by his
alternate shining and disappearance.
And to relieve the darkness of the
night, he set the moon' to rule by
night,' she catching up a portion of 
LIGHT.
the sun's brilliancy, and reflecting
its beams, modified and softened
down into our darkness. Yet a few
rays come to us from vastly more
distant sources than either the sun
or moon, even from the fixed stars,
the suns of other and immensely
distant systems. And it is a very
impressive evidence of the unity
and omnipresence of the glorious
Creator, that those rays from all
these other and numerous suns are
of the same nature, and subject to
the same laws precisely, as the light
from our own sun. The same God
evidently made their light and that
of our sun. How infinitely great
and powerful a being is He, and
how worthy our profoundest rever    14
157 
158 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ence. Thus is it true as Addison
has sung:
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
*        *        *         *        X
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And uitter forth a glorious voice,
For ever sinyiny as they shine,
"The hand that made us is divine."
"My heart's earnest desire for
you all, my dear boys, is that you
may be able to love him and trust
him as you ought, and thus through
our Mediator Jesus Christ have him
evermore to be your Friend."
" How gloomy and dreadful that
chaos must have been," observed
~rchie, "when as yet there was no
light at all!" 
LIGHT.
"Yes, indeed," replied aunt Fanny,
"only there was at that time no
creature on earth to feel the blackness of that gloom. It was of God's
goodness that in the order of creation he made light before he made
any sentient creature. But if now
he should, in his wrath for human
sins, withdraw his light from the
earth, the horror of that thick darkness would become utterly insupportable. I have read of prisoners
confined in a totally dark room, but
supplied with everything else to
make them perfectly comfortable.
The Chinese sometimes inflict this
punishment upon criminals. The effect is said to be invariably that the
prisoner before long becomes insane,
and soon after if the light be not
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160   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
admitted to him, dies a horrible
death."
"I  think,  aunt  Fanny,"  said
Willie, "from what you have said,
the beauty of our world depends
more on light than on any other
thing."
"Undoubtedly th at is true, Willie,".
said his aunt. "It is light from
which the entire face of nature, its
animals, birds, trees, flowers, landscapes, skies, sun, moon, and stars,
derive all those varied and brilliant
colours which make them so charming to every cultivated eye. I was
profoundly impressed with this when
I saw the sun rise last summer on
several successive mornings, from
the ocean. You can hardly imagine,
my dear boys, what a brilliant, what 
LIGHT.
a glorious  sight that is.   And
another, which I think quite equal
to it, is the sunrise or sunset on a
prairie.   These and  a thousand
other scenes of beauty and sources
of delight are all given to us through
the agency of light. I hope that in
reading your Bibles, you have noticed
how often the term light is used in
figurative senses.  I want you hereafter to notice that it is always used
to represent something which is a
source of cheerfulness, happiness,
and safety."
"Yes, aunt Fanny," cried Samuel,
"I remember that in one of my
lessons I had a verse which said,
'Truly the light is sweet, and a
pleasant thing it is for the eyes to
behold the sun."'
14 *
161 
162  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
"True.  And now can you call
to mind some of those uses which
the Bible makes of light?"
"I remember," said Archie, "that
it says Christians are'lights.'"
"Quote   the  whole   passage,
Archie."
"It is in Matt. v. 14-16.'Ye
are the light of the world. * * *
Let your light so shine before men,
that they may see your good works,
and glorify your Father which is in
heaven.' There is a text also in
Phil. ii. 15, in which Christians are
said to'shine as lights in the
world.'"
" Very well, Archie. Many suppose there is an allusion in this
last verse to the beacon-fire or lighthouse which on dangerous parts of 
LIGHT.
the coast was kindled to warn off
endangered ships. Just so, every
Christian ought by his example and
teachings to warn men of the danger of their evil ways, and show
them the only safe path to the port
of everlasting happiness.   Even
the youngest of you, boys, may in
this way be daily doing some thing
to bless those around you."
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164 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER IX.
LIGHT.
0 M E, boys," cried
aunt Fanny, the next
evening, "let us re             sume our talk about
light.  There are yet
many things for me
to tell you on that interesting subject.   Indeed, I think we might
very pleasantly spend half a dozen
evenings in talking about it. When
we left off last evening, I believe
we had just referred to that passage
of Holy Scripture found in Phil. ii. 
LIGHT.
15, which had led us to speak
about the light-house and its uses.
It was just at that point we were
obliged to break off our conversation."
"Yes," said Archie, "that was
the subject. And this very morning,
in reading a book of ancient history,
I found reference to a remarkable
light-house of those old times, and
was thinking of what you had said."
"Well, Archie," said his kind
aunt, "I amn very glad if our talk
added any interest to what you
were reading. But now I want you
to tell us what you can remember
about that ancient light-house."
"It was situate on the Island of
Pharos, which was near the city of
Alexandria, in Egypt. It was said
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166  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
to have been built three hundred
years before Christ was born, and
to have been five hundred feet high.
It became so famous as to have
given name to the light-house in
several countries. In France the
common word for light-house to this
day is' Phare."'
"And now, can you tell me which
is the most famous light-house of
modern times?" said aunt Fanny.
I think," cried Willie, "it must
be the Eddystone light-house, on a
rock in the British Channel.   I
have read of it, I think, more than
of any other."
"I suppose it is," said aunt Fanny.
"It was first built just about two
hundred years ago, and its builder,
Henry Winstanley, perished in its 
LIGHT.
ruins about seven years after. It
has since been renewed four times,
and is now perhaps the strongest
and most scientifically erected structure on this globe.  Thousands of
mariners have doubtless been saved
by its brilliant light from a watery
grave."
167 
168  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
" How far can the light of a lighthouse be seen, aunt Fanny, by a
ship at sea?" inquired Samuel.
"That will depend upon several
circumstances, my  dear boy," was
her  reply, "especially upon  the
elevation of the light, the clearness
of the atmosphere, and the intensity
of the flame. But I think I have
heard of beacon-lights having been
seen thirty miles at sea.
"Lights are so made that the
name and position of the light-house
can be distinguished by the mariner.
For this purpose lights of different
colours are used. Sometimes several lights are placed on the same
tower. And very often a slowly
and regularly revolving light is
used. Great intensity is often given 
LIGHT.
to the light by the use of large
and highly polished refractors. A
Frenchman of science, named Fresnel, has the credit of having invented the best kind of apparatus
for giving light.  Altogether, the
light-house is a most beneficent invention, a most admirable emblem
of what every Christian ought to be.
But we cannot talk longer about it
ihow. Can you remember any other
thing which in the Bible is called a
light?"
"In several places," said Willie,
"God's own word is so called. For
instance, in Psal. cxix. 105,'Thy
word is a lamp unto my feet, and a
light unto my path.' The Apostle
Peter also calls it'a light that
15
169 
170   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
shineth in a dark place."' 2 Peter
i. 19.
"That is right.   The word of
God is so called because it shows us
our danger, our duty, and the way
of salvation. For such benefits the
Bible is indeed among all the books
in the world like the bright sun
among the other heavenly bodies.
Wherever it comes it brings spiritual knowledge, comfort, and hope,
such as were never known without
it. Wherever it goes abroad into
the world this prophecy is fulfilled:
'The people which sat in darkness
saw great light; and to them which
sat in the region and shadow of
death, light is sprung up.' Matt.
iv. 16 When a church of Christ
faithfully holds and exhibits the 
LIGHT.
true doctrines of the gospel, it becomes a means of preserving and
spreading that light, and hence is
termed a candlestick, as in the first
chapter of Revelation.   Such  a
church was that of the Waldenses.
All through the long and dreary
night of the dark ages, it kept alive
in its Alpine fastnesses the pure
and blessed truth of God, transmitting it from age to age when all the
rest of Europe was involved in the
darkness of Romish superstition.
Most appropriate and striking were
its insignia. A candlestick bearing
a brightly-shining candle, surrounded by the motto,'Lux lucet in tenebris'-' The light shineth in darkness.'  See John i. 5.  Blessed be
God that in later days that heavenly
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172 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
~:'WA~;*~~~~Y~/~4
'~ ~4~m
light has spread abroad over many
lands, including our own. And
blessed, too, be God that he has
given both promise and prophecy
in his word to tell us that the day
is rapidly approaching when this
light shall shine on every land. 
LIGHT.
' Nations, now from God estranged,
Then shall see a glorious light;
Night to day shall then be changed,
Heaven shall triumph in the sight.'
But can you think of any person,
who in the Bible is called a'light?"'
"Our  divine  Redeemer,'  said
Archie, "was predicted by Isaiah
as'a light of the Gentiles.' Chap.
xlii. 6. The Evangelist John also,
chap. i. 9, declares respecting Christ:
'That was the True Light, which
lighteth every man that comleth into
the world."'
"Right, Archie. It gives me
more joy than I can tell to see you
so familiar with the language of
your Bible. Yes, the Lord Jesus
was the True Light of the world.
Many pretended lights had appeared before  him-philosophers,
15 *
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174 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
false prophets, doctors of the law,
false systems of religion-all along
throug,h the ages preceding his Advent. But they were all false lights.
They were never able to show to
fallen and guilty man a safe, practicable, wide-open path through this
weary and sin-darkened world to
another world of happiness and
glory. This Jesus did. For him
it was reserved to bring' life and
immortality to light.'   Hence he
was predicted, Mal. iv. 2, as' The
Sun of Righteousness,' for as the
shades of darkness are chased away
by the rays of the rising sun, so was
the Son of God, bv his coming, to
chase away the intellectual and
spiritual night of ignorance and sin
from our world. Every year this 
LIGHT.
process  is going forward.   This
glorious Sun of Righteousness is
rising higher and higher above the
world's horizon. His beams are
every hour spreading farther and
farther.  How precious is the promise!   Iow cheering is the prospect!  With exquisite spirit and
beauty is it described in that hymn
of our book, beginning
'Christian, see the orient morning
Breaks along the heathen sky;
Lo! the expected day is dawning,
Glorious Day-Spring from on high:
Hallelujah!
Hail, the Day-Spring from on high.'
But there is yet another Person to
whom in the Bible this title is applied.   Can  you  tell, Willie, to
whom I refer?"
175 
176 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
"I suppose, aunt Fanny," replied
Willie, "that you refer to God the
Father. I remember that in 1 John
i. 5, it is said that' God is Light,
and in him is no darkness at all.'"
"Your answer is exactly the one
I wished you to give, Willie. Now
I wish you to observe that while the
Bible is represented as' a li kt,' and
the Redeemer as' the Light of the
world,' of God only is it said that
'He is light.' God, in his own
essence, is knowledge, truth, holiness, happiness, everlasting joy, and
life. He is the source from which
all these flow. Except by his gift,
not one of them could ever for a
single moment be enjoyed by any
creature. He is light-pure light.
' In him is no darkness at all.' He 
LIGHT.
is not only holy, but he is infinitely
removed from and opposed to all
unholiness. If, therefore, we desire
to have fellowship with God-to be
his friends and enjoy his favour we
must' walk in the light,' hating sin,
loving the truth, and following after
holiness. So only may we have the
light of his countenance to shine
upon us, filling our souls with peace,
and joy, and hope. Faint and unworthy are all the cheerfulness and
beauty which external light sheds
over the outward world, when compared with that which the smile of
God can shed abroad in a renewed
and believing soul.
"Hence, of heaven, mydearboys,"
continued aunt Fanny, "whence all
sin and ignorance are forever ex
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178  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
eluded, when every soul among the
saints is perfectly and forever sanctified, and where only peace, and joy,
and holiness are found, it is said
'there is no night there, and they
need no candle, neither light of the
sun; for the Lord God giveth them
light.' Rev. xxii. 5. Without the
intervention of any secondary or
lower agencies, God himself, dwelling in the midst of his redeemed
people, shall directly and fully impart to them all that can possibly
help to fill up the measure of their
happiness for all eternity. My dear
boys, my heart's earnest desire and
daily prayer for each one of you is,
that by embracing truly the redemption there is in Christ Jesus, 
LIGHT.
you may without fail reach that
glorious place.
"You  once more see that all
nature is full of meaning and instruction, when studied in connection with the word of God. Whenever henceforth you look upon the
sun, moon, and stars, the rainbow,
the beautiful lights, and shadows,
and colours that rest upon the earth,
may you remember that God has
impressed a new meaning on them
all, and may you have both your
minds and your hearts open to
receive the lessons he would by
them teach you."
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180 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER X.
LIGHT.
ing  aunt  Fanny
~,~~  NE  bright even
and her nephews
=were tempted to
stroll farther and
later than  usual.  In returning,
they passed along the margin of an
extensive and grassy meadow. The
sun had sometime before sunk below
the horizon, and the stars were just
beginning to twinkle here and there
in the clear twilight sky above them.
They had been so earnestly engaged 
LIGHT.
in conversation as scarcely to have
noticed anything around them, when
suddenly little Samuel loudly exclaimed,
"Aunt Fanny, aunt Fanny, do
look at the meadow."
And sure enough the meadow did
present a spectacle worthy of being
looked at. All over its grassy surface thousands upon thousands of
fire-flies, or, as the children commonly call them, "lightning-bugs,"
were incessantly emitting their brilliant flashes, each in his tiny way
helping to produce a beautiful, vivid,
and ever-varying illumination. It
was a wonderful scene, and aunt
Fanny and the boys involuntarily
stood still in order to observe and
admire it.
16
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182  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
"You have told us a great many
interesting things about light, aunt
Fanny," said Willie, " but I do not
think you alluded to anything like
this. Won't you tell us how these
insects make such flashes of light?"
" I will try, my dear Willie," said
his kind aunt, "but it may not be
very easy. The fire-fly is enabled
to do this by the presence of phosphorus along the under side of the
hinder part of its body. Phosphorus
will shine only when brought into
contact with the oxygen of the atmosphere. The great and good
Creator, besides furnishing a supply
of the phosphorus to this particular
insect, has likewise given it an apparatus which can be moved at its
will, by moving which, the oxygen 
LIGHT.
is admitted suddenly to the phosphorus, thus causing the light you
see. These little creatures are particularly active and luminous after
slight showers of rain. Naturalists
say that this curious provision is
for the purpose of guiding the firefly to his mate. In the United States
these little insects abound everywhere during the summer months,
and by such brilliant illuminations
as you now see, give oftentimes great
beauty and life to the evening landscape. In Europe the fire-fly is
unknown, but there is in its place
a glow-worm, which is the wingless
female of another insect of this same
genus. But they are few in numbers and of little beauty when cornpared with our fire-fly. Europeans
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184   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
in America often go into raptures
over such a spectacle as this, which
we are so accustomed to seeing, that
we scarcely notice it."
Aunt Fanny stood silently gazing
at the light-spangled meadow for
several minutes, then raised her
eyes to the stars.
"Shall I tell you, my dear boys,"
said she quietly, "of what I have
been thinking these last minutes? It
was, that the brief flash of the firefly is like the  pleasures  of  sin,
'which are but for a season, and
then give place to the darkness of
the night of sorrow and despair.
On the other hand, the pleasures
of holiness, the delights drawn from
loving and serving CGod, are like
the calm but permanent light of 
LIGHT.
yonder stars, which shine on with
unceasing and undiminished splendour age after age.  Mlay you all
be wise enough to choose and secure
the latter as being infinitely preferable to the former."
"Are thiere any other animals," inquired Archie, "which  have the
power to give out such light?"
"Yes," said  his aunt, moving
along the path homeward.  "' There
are both plants and animals possessing this phosphorescent quality.  It
is said that in the coal mines near
Dresden there are certain mosses
growing in great abundance which
are beautifully luminous. It is also
said that certain species of fish possess the power of diffusing a radiance
around them, but I confess that I
16 *
185 
186   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
am doubtful in regard to them. The
chemical changes which take place
in the progress of decay, both of
vegetable and animal matter, very
often, under favourable circumstances, evolve a phosphorescent
lilght.  Putrescent fish are often
highly luminous. In passing through
a dark wood in the night time, I
have seen a decaying log glow as if
it were a mass of living coal. Ignorant and superstitious persons are
often greatly alarmed by this last
appearance, especially if the decaying wood happens to be in an upright  position.   Such   luminous
decaying wood is often called' foxfire,' although why, I cannot tel]."
"I have often read, aunt Fanny,"
said W illie, "in books aboutsea-voy 
LIGHT.
ages, of the fiery appearance of the
water at night, especially in tropical
regions, whilch is said to be very grand.
What causes such appearances?"
"I am glad you have reminded
me  of that fact, Willie.   Some
years ago I had an excellent opportunity to see that spectacle, and it
was as you have called it, a very
grand one. I was passing by night
in a steamboat from Mobile to New
Orleans, over a portion of the Gulf
of Mexico. The night was rather
dark, although starlight. I had
taken my place far forward on the
extreme prow of the boat, to watch
the golden sunset.   My position
was so agreeable, that I remained
there, thinking of far absent friends,
until the shades of evening had
187 
188 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
gathered over the great deep. As
soon as it became dark, the waters
of the Gulf, as they were dashed
aside by our swift steamer, became
brilliantly luminous. Do you remember, boys, our visit some
months ago to the foundry in Johnstown, and how the molten iron
poured forth into the workmen's
ladles in a stream yellow as gold?
Well, almost as yellow and brilliant
as that molten metal were the
waters of the Gulf of Mexico as
they rolled off in great far-reachingi waves from our steamer.   But
in addition to its brilliancy, the
water presented spangles and coruscations of the most splendid appearance. Here and there bright
golden lumps as large as a walnut, 
LIGHT.
as they rolled away from our vessel's side, would seem to explode
and be diffused throughout the mass
like sparks flying from red-hot iron
under the blacksmith's hammer.
I was so delighted with the scene
that I continued at my post, watching its ever-changing  splendours
until long after midnight."
" Oh, hownv I should like to have
been there with you, aunt Fanny!"
cried little Samuel.   "But what
was it made the water look so
bright?"
"The phenomenon is attributable,
my dear boy, to countless myriads
of minute marine animals, which
give out this light chiefly when
they are disturbed by a passing
vessel or other object. These little
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190   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
animals are most abundant in tropical seas, but are also seen elsewhere.
I have witnessed somewhat of this
same appearance on the water, when
sitting of a dark evening on the
seaside at Atlantic City, and watching the breakers roll up upon the
beach. But it is only in more tropical latitudes that it exhibits its
highest degree of brilliancy and
beauty. These light-givingo animalcules are so exceedingly minute
that it is calculated that over twenty-six thousand of them may be
found in a single dro(p, and over an
hundred and fifty millions in a tumbler-full of water. Yet, so wonderfuil are the researches of modern
science, that many of them have
been figured and described by na 
LIGHT.
turalists, who have studied them
by the aid of powerful microscopes.
And how glorious and wonderful a
Being, my dear boys, must be that
Omniscient and Almighty God, who
created, who knows, and who sustains in its existence every one of
this countless host of tiny creatures,
just as really and constantly as he
does a man or an angel!"
191 
192  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
CHAPTER XI.
LIGHT.
UNT FANNY
and her three
nephews we re
walking  slowly
h o m ew a r d.
Above them, the
clear bright sky was spangled with
countless stars. Around them all
was deep silence, except the chirp
of the cricket and the vigorous duet
of the katydid. They all felt the
influence of the time and scene, and
walked a long distance without ex
-4~~ 
LIGHT.
changing a word. The boys seemed
to be intently engaged in thinking
upon aunt Fanny's last remarks.
They were aroused by a quick and
earnest exclamation from Archie.
"Oh see, aunt Fanny, what is
that?"
Directly before them was rapidly
passing a falling-star. It fell in a
slantiring direction from the zenith
towvards the horizon, and was distinctly visible for ten or fifteen
seconds, when it suddenly disappeared. A feeling of awe seemed
to arise in their minds, as they
drew closer towards their aunt's
side, and waited for her reply to
Archie's inquiry.
"That was a beautiful meteor,"
said aunt Fanny. "Of what a fall    17
193 
194  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ing-star is made, it would not be
possible for me to say, probably
there are many kinds of them, containing different substances. Natural philosophers have attributed
some of them to the action of electricity,  some  to  spontaneous  or
chemical combustion of gases in the
atmosphere, and others to the falling of heated stones.   Probably
many are of the latter kind.
Whence these stones come is another interesting question.   Some
say they were shot vrery high into
the atmosphere by terrestrial volcanoes. Others say they are produced by combinations of gaseous
and more solid particles floating
above  us.  Yet  others, and  with
most probability, contend that they 
LIGHT.
were shot forth from volcanoes in
the moon, so far as to get within
the sphere of the earth's attractive
force.
"Sometimes  these  falling-stars
appear in great numbers.   I remember that when I was quite a
child, about the year 1832 or 1833,
on a clear frosty nilght in Niovember, there was a shower of fal]ingstars.  For an hour or more the
whole heavens seemed to be a scene
of confusion.   Thousands of these
brilliant meteors were at one and
the same time shooting athwart the
sky in every direction.  The ignorant were affrighted, the superstitious verily believed the end of the
world had come, and the most intelligent observer could not avoid
195 
196  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
yielding to emotions of solemnity
and awe."
I am glad you have told us,"
said Archie, "that these are not real
stars which fall. I used to think
that if one of them should fall upon
our earth, it might break it to pieces,
or at least kill a great number of
peop)le."
"You are not the only one who
has thought that, Archie," said his
aunt. "It is one of the many blessings of science, that it can dispel a
thousand fears which torment the
ignorant portion of mankind. But
it is the Bible only which can shew
us the true and perfect way of escape from fear, by teaching that'he
who fears God, has nothing else to
fear."' 
LIGHT.
" WNill you tell us, aunt Fanny,"
said WVillie, "what it is that causes
the tvwinkling of the stars?"
" It is their immense distance
from us, nmy dear boy, because of
which the fixed stars, even under
the most powerful telescope, have
no visible diameter.  Hence only
one stream of light from them can
enter the pupil of the eye, and so
vast is the distance, that the particles of ligoht composing that minute
stream, are at a considerable distance from each other.  WThen a
particle of light from a fixed star
falls upon the eye, it produces a
vivid impression, which  becomes
dimmer and dimmer, until another
particle of light reaches the eve,
when the vivid impression is re    17 *
197 
198   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
newed, and so on. This causes the
apparent twinkling of the star.
Hence in the sun, moon, and planets
of our system, you never see any
twinkling, because they are cornmparatively close by us."
" Won't you please tell us, aunt
Fanny," inquired Samuel, "why it
don't hurt my eyes to look at the
moon as it does when I try to look
at the sun?"
"Certainly, my dear boy.  But I
hope you will never try to look at
the sun, or you may very seriously
injure your eyesight. The reason
the moon does not hurt your eyes
is that its light is so much feebler
than that of the sun. The light of
the moon is said to be only equal
to the light of one candle, placed at 
LIGHT.
the distance of twelve feet from the
eye, while the light of the sun is
estimated to be equal to that of five
thousand, five hundred, and sixtythree candles at the distance of one
foot from the object.   The lunar
rays, when collected in the most
powerful convex glass, have scarcely
any effect on the thermometer,
while, as you boys know very well,
the rays of the sun, gathered through
even a small convex glass will set
on fire wood and other combustible
matter. Willie, can you tell us of
any philosopher who once did this
on a large scale?"
"Yes, aunt Fanny," said Willie,
promptly,  "it  was  Archimedes.
When Marcellus, the Roman consul, besieged Syracuse, where Ar
199 
200   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
chimedes lived, the old philosopher
prepared curved mirrors, and so
arranged them that by directing the
sun's rays upon the enemy's fleet,
the ships were set on fire."
"Very well.  Now, Archie, can
you tell me any thing about a celebrated statue in Egypt which was
said to become vocal by having the
light fall upon it?"
"Yes, I have read of it. It was
the colossal statue of Memnon, near
Thebes. It was said to utter a joyful sound every morning when the
sun's rays first reached its lips, and
a mournful sound when the sun
set. According to the heathen
mythology, Memnon was the son
of Aurora. Hence the effect of the
coming and going of her light upon 
LIGHT.
his statue. It was a sort of joyful
welcome and sorrowful farewell."
"Right, Archie," said his aunt,
"several writers, both ancient and
modern, unite in  declaring  that
they have heard this sound, and
philosophers have offered explanations of it upon very easy natural
principles. Yet the whole story is
of very doubtful credibility. But
there is a hint which I think we
may fairly draw from it. It is the
duty of every living intelligent
creature to utter God's praise in
acts of devotion when the morning's
light is poured upon the world, and
when it is withdrawn at the evening
hour.   I have sometimes thought
this story of Memnon's statue was
invented by the Egyptian priests,
201 
202   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
to teach the people that if lips of
stone gave forth a sound at those
times, much more should the lips
of living men become vocal, morning and evening, with acknowledginent of God's goodness."
"I want to ask you a question,
aunt Fanny," said little Samuel,
"about that star which guided the
wise men who came to seek Christ,
just after he was born. Where did
that star come from, and what kind
of a star was it?"
"Ah, my boy," said his aunt,
"that question has puzzled many
wiser heads than yours or mine.
That it was no common star however, is very clear.  Those'wise
men' or Magi, camne from  some
country  east of Palestine.   The 
LIGHT.
study of the heavenly bodies was
their constant occupation, as it is
now that of the professed astronomer. This' Star in the East' was
evidently placed in their view by a
direct exertion of God's omnipotence.   Somehow, probably by  a
direct revelation, God made them
understand that it had reference to
the birth of the promised Messiah
into the world.   That it was not a
newly-discovered planet or fixed star
is evident,' for it went before them,
until it came and stood over where
the young childwas.' God made it to
shine for a special object. It was, no
doubt, withdrawn again from human
view, as soon as this end was obtained.
And now let me ask you, mas
203 
204   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ter Samuel, if you can tell me where
in the Bible, the Redeemer is
spoken of as a star?"
" I think I can, aunt Fanny," said
her little nephew. "In the very
last chapter of the Bible he is called
'the bright and morning Star.'"
"That is the very passage which
I wished you to remember," said
his aunt.  "Now to-morrow morning, if you arise early, before the
sun is up, you will see that beautifuil and blessed star which is made
the emblem of our dear Saviour. It
is worth rising at any time an hour
before sunrise, just to see, admire,
and reflect upon that'bright and
morning star.' How mildly and
benignantly shine its silvery beams!
How full of promise is its gentle 
LIGHT.
light for a near and complete illumination of a dark and sleeping world!
Learn to love the morning-star, my
boys, as one of the most beautiful
objects in all nature. But love to
gaze upon it chiefly because it is
recognized by God himself as an
emblem of Him who is now shining
as the Morning-Star of the moral
and spiritual world."
Our little party were now approaching the house. The fire-flies
were more rarely visible upon the
higher and drier ground they bad
reached, while rising clouds had
almost shut out from view the twinkling stars. It had become, really,
very dark, so that it was with difficulty they groped their way along
the well-worn path.
18
205 
206 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
Our readers have long ago found
out that aunt Fanny was most affectionately anxious to seize every opportunity to turn everything to
account for the benefit of the dear
boys entrusted to her care. They
will hardly wonder therefore that
she found even in the darkness a
profitable theme for conversation.
"Can you tell me, Willie," she
inquired, " what is darkness?"
" It is the absence or privation of
light," he replied.
" Ve have already talked of light
as a source of beauty in the natural
world.  -,ow can either of you tell
me, boys, why the bountiful Creator
should have so arranged his works
that for nearly one-half of every
twenty-four hours, darkness should 
LIGHT.
cover the face of the earth, and
hide its manifold beauties from our
sight?"
"I think," said Willie, "that we
enjoy the beauty of the world far
more when we do see it by day,
from the fact that it is all hidden
from us so often and for so much
of our time."
"I think it would be very difficult for us to get our sleep if we
had  no night," said Archie.  "I
remember in reading a book of Arctic
travels, it was said that the long
day of several months' duration became exceedingly wearisome and
distressing to the travellers, because
of the difficulty of getting their sleep
soundly and regularly."
"And I think," said little Samuel,
207 
208 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
" that a great many people would
begrudge the time for sleep, both for
themselves and their servants and
horses, if they were not compelled
by the darkness to give and take a
regular rest. It seems to me very
kind in God by making it dark, to
compel people to cease from business aild go to sleep at the end of
every day."
"Your reasons are all very good,
my dear boys. Many others might
be added. God is very good to give
us light as he does, and he is equally
good when he withholds it. And it
is just so with all God's mercies.
Privations are usually disagreeable
to us, but they are often God's
choicest'blessings in disguise.' If
we are only numbered among his 
LIGHT.
children, and are earnestly trying
to walk in the path of obedience to
his commandments, he has promised that he will mnake' all things
work together for our good.' Poverty, cares, sorrows, sickness, afflictions, death itself, will be made to
accomplish gracious purposes in our
behalf. Wrhen you see that by taking away the beautiful and serviceable light, God makes its very
absence a mercy to us, learn to
believe that whenever he takes
aught else away, he can make its
absence a blessing too. God's wisdom is very wonderful, and infinitely
beyond our comprehension.
"Can you give me any instances
fromn the Bible," continued aunt
18 *
209
:..,...::. I. 
210 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
Fanny, "in which God made use
of darkness in working miracles?"
"Yes," said Willie, after a mo    ment's pause.  "He brought dark    ness over all the land of Egypt,
because Pharaoh would not let the
Israelites go."
"That seems to have been a very
wonderful  darkness,"  said their
aunt. "It was probably intensi    fied by God's power far beyond the
darkness of our blackest night. It
is described, you may remember, as
'a darkness which might be felt.'
And then again, to make all the
people as well as us know that it
was sent by a direct exertion of
God's power, while the Egyptians
were involved in this fearful dark    ness,' all the children of Israel had
..'..",:'  
LIGHT.
light in their dwellings.'  How terrible a concern must have been felt
by the pagan Egyptians during the
prevalence of this untimely and
portentous gloom! And how beautiful and impressive was the ground
for confidence and hope in their God,
afforded to the timorous Hebrews!"
"There  was  another  miracle
wrought by darkness, aunt Fanny,"
said Archie, "at the time of our
Saviour's crucifixion. You remember it is said that'from the sixth
hour there was darkness over all
the land unto the ninth hour.'"
"Yes, Archie, that was a very
astonishing miracle, and well worthy of careful study.   You  observe that those were the very hours
when the Lord Jesus was passing
211 
212 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
through his dying agonies. They
were also the middle or brightest
hours of the day, being, as we would
say, from twelve to three o'clock.
Moreover, it is certain that this
darkness could not have been caused
by an eclipse, as some infidels have
tried to insinuate. For this miracle
happened at the passover, when
the moon was always at its full, at
which time an eclipse of the sun is
impossible. No! this darkness was
a loud call from heaven to earth, to
take notice that its glorious King
was suffering an ignominious death.
It was also an expression of God's
detestation of the fearful crime of
those who, with wicked hands, crucified and slew his well-beloved Son.
The miracle should teach us to 
LIGHT.
avoid that wicked unbelief which
led his murderers to slav the Lord
of Glory, and to accept him in our
hearts as our personal Saviour from
sill and hell.
"While you will find light everywhere used in the Bible as the emblem of knowledge, happiness, and
holiness, always of some thing truly
good and desirable, you will, on the
contrary, find darkness presented
as the emblem of ignorance, misery,
and sin, in their thousand forms.
Satan is presented to us as the
Prince of Darkness. And when
the sinner, who has refused the
spotless robe of a Saviour's righteousness, shall at last stand speechless and without excuse before his
God, the order shall be given,'Take
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214  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
him away, and cast him into outer
darkness, there shall be weeping and
gnashing of teeth.' My dear boys,
whenever you look into the darkness of the night, think of the horrible and eternal darkness which is
the portion of the soul for ever lost,
and which must have been the portion of us all, had not a gracious
Redeemer died to save us.
"But here we are at home again
after our long and late walk. Look
through the windows. How bright
and cheerful every thing looks
within! May we all, through divine mercy, find a bright and happy
Home awaiting us in heaven, when
we shall have finished our several
pilgrimages through this dark world
of sin and sorrow." 
COLOURS.
CHAPTER XII.
COLOURS.
N a pleasant Sat               urday  afternoon,
aunt Fanny and
her three nephews
had gone out for
a long stroll.  After walking for
half an hour they came to a shady
hill-side, and having ascended a
considerable distance, sat down
under a spreading tree to rest themselves. From where they sat, they
had a pleasant view over the meadow below them, and the opposite
215 
216   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
hillside clothed with forest trees to
its very summit. Around them,
among the scattered clumps of trees
and bushes, wild flowers were growing in great variety and profusion.
From the cloudless sky, the sun,
yet three or four hours above the
horizon, poured down a flood of
cheerfulness and splendour over all
the scene. All nature, down to her
tiniest bird and bees seemed to feel
exhilarated.
The three boys soon left their
aunt, and engaged for a time in a
merry game of hide-and-seek among
the bushes. When they became
tired of this they strolled about
gathering tasteful bunches of wildflowers for their aunt. Soon they
seated themselves beside her on the 
COLOURS.
grass, and noticing that her eyes
were wandering thoughtfully across
the landscape, they begged her to
tell them of what she was thinking.
"I was just thinking," she replied, "of God's wonderful goodness, and especially how he has exhibited his benevolence in clothing
all creation in such beautiful and
pleasing colours. To the cultivated
taste, the eye furnishes a feast of
enjoyment wherever it wanders
over his works."
"Yes," said  Archie, "I  often
pity poor blind Tom, who lives in
the village, and think how much he
loses every day by the lack of eyesight. Do you think, aunt Fanny,
he has any notion at all of the beautiful colours we continually see?"
19
217 
218 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
"A man who has been deprived
of sight by accident or disease may
carry the memory of colours as of
other things through his weary
years of darkness," said his aunt.
"But a person who was born blind,
and who has continued so all his
days cannot have any conception at
all of colours. As this is poor
Tom's case, he cannot have any idea
of green, or blue, or red, or the difference between thenm. I remember
to have read of a gentleman who
taxed all his ingenuity to describe
to such a blind man what the red
colour was. After he had finished,
he asked the man if he had understood him.'Oh, yes,' said he,'I
think I do.  It must be just like
the sound of a fiddle."' 
COLOURS.
The boys laughed at the blind
man's idea of a red object.
"Don't you think, aunt Fanny,"
said Willie, "that it is a greater
loss to be deprived of sight than
of any other sense?"
"Yes," she answered, "I think
it is a far greater privation. I have
more than once visited the Institution for the Blind, in the City of
Philadelphia, and it filled me with
the deepest sorrow to see the scores
of poor blind youth there collected,
and to think that through all their
earthly lives they could never see
the bright and beautiful world
around us, or have any conception
of so many of its very choicest beauties.
"I  have  often thought,  aunt
219 
220 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
Fanny," remarked Archie, "of what
you told us not long ago, that every
ray of light contains all the colours
in itself. I do not see, if that is so,
how it is that different things
around us come to have different
colours."
"The theory is, my dear boy,
that most of these bodies possess
the property of fixing or absorbing
some of these colours from the light,
and of rejecting the rest. Blue silk,
for example, absorbs six of the coloured rays, and reflects only the
Dlue. You see that it is not the
colour which the object retains, but
that which it gives back to the eye
or reflects which we regard as its
colour. It is a part of this theory
also that neither white nor black is 
COLOURS.
truly a colour, inasmuch as a black
object absorbs the entire rays of
light, reflecting no part of them,
while white objects reflect the whole
and  retain  nothing.   Both  are,
therefore, theoretically colourless.
This explanation or theory of colours was first offered to the world
by the great Sir Isaac Newton, who
devoted much study to the subject."
"Please tell me, aunt Fanny,"
cried little Samuel, "why our old
rooster and our turkey gobbler are
made so angry when I shake my
red handkerchief towards them.
They don't seem to feel so when I
hold up a cloth of any other colour.
And I heard a farmer say, the other
day, that a person attempted to
19 *
221 
222   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
cross his pasture-ground who had
on a scarlet garment, and his big
bull became furious at the sight of
it. Why do these animals hate
anything red so much?"
"It is because, Master Samuel,"
said his aunt, "our eyes are created
with so much nervous sensibility
that bright red or scarlet causes a
burning sensation in them, which in
many irritable brutes or birds leads
to these angry demonstrations. Our
eyes would be greatly pained by
looking for a considerable time at
a very large object of a bright scarlet
colour."
" How disagreeable and painful
it would be, then, aunt Fanny,"
said Willie, "if God had placed as 
COLOURS.
much red as there is green around
us on all sides!"
"That is very, very true, Willie,"
said his aunt.  "The goodness of
God shines forth very conspicuously
in the selection of the colours he has
placed prominently around us. The
soft and delicate green in which he
has clad the earth, and the still
more delicate azure of the sky, never
pain the most sensitive eye. Natural
philosophers, after studying and experimenting long upon colours, have
declared that these are just the two
which are best adapted to spare and
to soothe the nervous sensibilities
of the organ of vision. You know
that if a person is afflicted with sore
or tender eyes he finds a shade of
green or pale blue always best to
223 
224 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
shield them from a glare of light.
If God had caused the vegetation
of the world to be bright red or
yellow, or even white or black, our
eyes would be to us a source of
constant  agony.   And  that the
colours he has given to the earth
and sky are far more beautiful than
any others would have been, no
person of cultivated taste will ever
deny."
After a moment, Archie said:
"I never noticed it before, but just
look how many shades of blue there
are in different parts of the sky.
Up yonder is a large patch of bright
azure, that feather-bed cloud off
yonder is of quite a different tint,
that western sky under the declining sun is different from both, and 
COLOURS.
that heavy bank of clouds to the
southward is of a fourth shade. I
could count a dozen shades of blue
in different parts of the sky."
"Doubtless you could, Archie,"
said his aunt," at almost any time.
WVhile the general colour of the sky
is blue, it is yet never wearisome
through sameness, but presents an
ever-changing panorama of colours
and cloud-forms. It always makes
me sorrowful when I think how
very few persons love to contemplate and do truly admire this
grand blue vault of heaven. I am
persuaded that if they would oftener
lift their eyes to admire the lovely
canopy which God has spread above
their heads, they would more fre.
quently be led to loving and ador
225 
226 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ing thoughts of the beneficent Creator. But the same varieties of
shades of colour may be seen on the
green earth. Look across at yvn
hillside, and at those grain-fields
down the valley, and observe how
every tree and shrub and plant has
its own peculiar shade of green.
How dark is that of the pines and
hemlocks yonder, how yellowish
that of the chestnut and the sassafras,
how silvery the tinge of the brookmaple and the aspen-poplars! So of
the other trees, and so of the wheat,
the rye, the oats, the corn. An experienced farmer can distinguish their
shades of green when miles away.
How wonderfully God mingles
pleasing variety with beneficent
uniformity over all his works!" 
COLOURS.
"I was noticing, the other day,"
said Willie, "when you were engaged upon your worsted work,
what an endless variety of shades
of the same colour you made use of,
and I wondered how it was ever
possible to make them. But now
I see that we are looking at far
more numerous shades of blue and
green every day in nature, than ever
I saw in your basket of zephyrworsteds.  And I see that as you
used them to give variety and beauty
to the piece of work on which you
were engaged, just so God uses them
to impart variety and beauty to his
creation."
"Very true, Willie. And then
in order to impart still greater variety and brightness to his works,
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228   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
God has added brilliant colours,
abundantly enough to please us
without paining our eyes.   Thus
he gives us splendid sunsets, autumnal forests, gay butterflies, and
above all, the beautiful flowers."
"But come, boys," continued
aunt Fanny, rising, "let us go.
We will continue this subject on
some other day." 
COLOURS.
CHIAPTER XIII.
COLOURS.
a i   m    EN  days or more
-~:'"/~'passed before the
boys and their kind
aunt found an op              portunity to take
another walk over
the hill. When they did, a marvellous change had come over the
whole scene. The forest displayed,
on every side, the effects of a recent
severe frost. Many of its trees, so
lately covered with green, now exhibited foliage of other and most
20
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230  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
splendid colours.  The hickory and
sassafras leaves were bright yellow;
the dogwood deep purple; the oak
russet brown; the maple light red;
the gum and the sumac bright
scarlet. Indeed each species of tree
and shrub had now taken a new
colour of its own. Only the evergreens retained their former green.
When our party reached the spot
occupied during the preceding conversation, a gorgeous spectacle was
spread out before them.
"Do you remember my remark,
boys," said aunt Fanny, "that God
had thrown in the brighter colours,
sufficiently to give variety to the more
subdued and chaster ones which prevail?  Here you have a fine illustration of my remark. You are now 
COLOURS.
enjoying a sight of which Europeans
know almost nothing."
"Do  not the forests in Europe
change colour like ours, aunt
Fanny?" asked one of the boys.
"To a very limited extent," she
replied. "WThen the gorgeous sp]endour which covers our Amierican hillsides and woodlands in autumn is
first seen by Europeans they are
filled with admiration. I have heard
that many ladies in England dress
their hair with the bright autumnal
leaves they receive from America.
It is even said that the selection,
preparation, and exportation of
these leaves, of varied tints and
beautiful figures, is becoming a
means of obtaining a livelihood in
certain portions of New England.
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232  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
The ingenious ladies of our own
country are also making more and
more use of themn every year in forming articles of taste and fancy for the
parlour and the boudoir. But what,
Archie, makes you look so grave?"
"I was thinking, aunt Fanny,"
said Archie, "of a text in one
of our Sabbath-school lessons.   I
think it is in Isaiah, and it says,
' We all do fade as a leaf.'"
"Those few words convey to us
a very solemn truth," said aunt
Fanny.   "Only a few days  ago,
these leaves were green and fresh,
and looked as if they might continue so for months or years. But
the frosts of a single night have
smitten them, and these brilliant
colours, like the hectic on a fevered 
COLOURS.
cheek, indicate that death and decay
have already begun to work upon
themn. Presently when the winds
blow, they will be found loosened
from  the  branches,  and will be
swept away to rot upon the earth.
Just so it is with our mortal lives.
We are here to-day apparently in
full health and strength; to-morrow
we are cut off and laid in the silent
tomb.   How  infinitely important
that we should be ready, through
faith in the divine Redeemer, to
give up our lives, however suddenly
called to do so!"
They all sat gazing at the splendid
scene for some time. Then the boys
strolled off in search of flowers, and
soon returned with a large and
varied bouquet.
2,0*
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234   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
"How  is it, aunt Fanny," inquired Samuel, "that the same sort of
flower always has the same colour?"
"Ah! my  dear boy, you have
asked me a very hard question,"
said his aunt. "The distribution
and perpetuation of colours, in the
vegetable and iri the animal world,
is a great secret of nature. We cannot give a cause, except by referring
to the great First Cause. Each of
these plants is descended by a regular succession from a first plant of its
kind, which sprang forth at the
direct command of the Creator.
Each plant has been like its predecessor in colour as well as in
formn and other particulars. Why
this is so we cannot tell, except that
God wills it to be so. At creation 
COLOURS.
God said,'Let the earth bring
forth grass, the herb yielding seed,
and the fruit tree yielding fruit
(after his kind.' This law divine
power impressed on every plant in
the vegetable world, and it continues
to operate until the present day,
causing each to reproduce both
flower and fruit of its own kind.
"So we see the same plant extracting from the earth, and air, and
sunshine, often half a dozen or more
colours, and arranging them with
wonderful precision after the pattern
of its species. Here, among the flowers you have gathered for me, is a
coreopsis. It not only has different
colours, but that half of every petal
in its corolla, which is nearest to
the flower stem, is a deep purple,
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236 AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
while the outer half of each petal
is a bright yellow. In some flowers,
as in the pinks and sweet-williams
you may see distinct lines and patterns upon the corolla.  Now how
the purple and yellow are made to
appear on the same petal of the coreopsis, side by side, distinctly
separated by the finest line only, is
a complete mystery to us. But the
works of God are full of mysteries.
"But  I heard old David, our
gardener, the other day talking
about changing the colours of certair flowers," observed Willie.
"Yes," said aunt Fanny, " skilful gardeners have learned to do so
by the application of chemical agencies to the soil about the roots of
flowers.   They  can  thus  change 
COLOURS.
the ordinary course of nature and
bring forth the flower in new colours. I have seen blue and green
roses produced by a skilful gardener.
The hydrangea, the columbine, the
violet, the pink, the larkspur, and
many others are capable of an easy
change of colour."
"But plants are not always uniform in their colours, aunt Fanny,"
said Archie.  "You remember the
little patch of striped grass in the
corner of our dooryard. I have
searched for hours to find two leaves
alike, but never could. It is wonderful how diversified in breadth, numbers, and arrangement are the white
stripes running through the leaf."
"And I never heard, Archie, of
any one who had succeeded in find
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238  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ing two leaves alike. The stripedgrass, or ribbon-grass, as it is often
called, is a very peculiar plant. It
always seemed to tell me that God
is not constrained to employ uniformiity, but can, whenever he pleases,
work just as easily by diversities.
There is no limit to his skill and
wisdom."
"I have noticed, aunt Fanny,"
said Willie, "that  in  the Bible
almost every colour is used to represent some idea. Is it not so?"
"Yes, it is so not only in the
Bible, but in the general language
and literature of mankind. And it
has been so from a very early period.
Can you tell me, Willie, what ideas
are connected in the Bible with
white?" 
COLOURS.
"I think the principal one is that
of purity," answered Willie.
"Right,  Willie, can you mention some instances?"
"On solemn occasions," said Willie, "the priests were commanded
to be clothed in white, to signify
that purity was required in the service of God.  God will appear in
judgment seated on a white throne,
to signify the purity of his government. The redeemed will appear
in Heaven in' robes made white in
the blood of the Lamb,' to teach us
how absolutely free from sin they
shall be made by redeeming grace."
" Now, Archie, what is usually
signified by black?"
"I think," said Archie, "it is
oftenest significant of wrath, or of
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240  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
the terror caused by it. The prophet Jeremiah said of a time when
God would be angry' the heavens
shall be black;' of a time of great
fear it is two or three times said' all
faces shall gather blackness;' and the
place of the lost is called' the blackness of darkness.'"
"And what can you say of blue,
Willie?"
" Not much is said about it in the
Bible, aunt Fanny. But blue was
used in the curtains of the tabernacle, and the robe of the ephod was
of blue. Our minister said one day
that it was emblematic of truth."
"No doubt that was the significance of it.  What, Archie, about
green?"
"I suppose it signifies prosperity. 
COLOURS.
The wicked are said to flourish like
'the green bay-tree,' meaning that
they seem to flourish. The Prophet
Hosea likens the man whose trust is
in the Lord to a tree whose' leaf shall
be green,' to teach that he shall prosper."
"Once more, Willie, what of red,
crimson, and scarlet?"
"I think they signify violence,
bloodshed, and crime. A red horse
is often used in prophesying coming war. The Messiah is predicted
as coming from Bozrah' red in his
apparel,' to indicate that he comes
to inflict vengeance on his enemies.
God promises pardon and cleansing
to the believing, although their sins
'be as scarlet' or' red like crimson,'
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242   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
that is, the most heinous sins, such
as murder."
"Very well, boys," said aunt
Fanny.  "Now it is time for us to
move homeward. You love to look
at beautiful paintings. The Infinite
Artist of the universe has placed all
around you more exquisite specimens by far than any which man
ever made. The most admirable
paintings ever produced, are only
feeble imitations of God's handiwork.
The poorest of mankind is not shut
out from the cultivation of his taste,
or the enjoyment of the highest style
of beauty, because he cannot afford
to visit costly picture-galleries. Let
him open his eyes and behold the
works of God with admiration and
praise."
I 
CONCLUSION.
CHAPTER XIV.
CONCLUSION.
UCH  were the conversations of aunt
Fanny with the three
lads entrusted to her
guardian care.  Al            most every day there
was a pleasant walk by the little
brook, or a ramble through the
woods or over the hills, or a nice
little expedition to gather flowers, or
nuts, or berries. And when the
weather was too wet or too cold for
these pleasant strolls, they gathered
21 *
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244  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
in the family sitting-room.   But
whethler in the house or abroad, their
kind aunt lost no favourable opportunity to converse upon such topics
as were adapted to interest her nephews, leading them to think upon
the glorious Creator, and directing
their thoughts from God's works to
his blessed book of revelation.
And she had the pleasure of seeing her efforts crowned with a noble
success. Her nephews were good
and well-trained boys when they
came under her instructions. Yet
they were much like all other boys,
having depraved hearts in their bosoms.  They were not without many
faults, and at times needed to be restrained, rebuked, and even severely
disciplined. But she had unspeak 
CONCLUSION.
able delight in soon being able to perceive that their characters were receiving a powerful moulding influence from her wise instructions and
her loving counsels.
We have given but a few specimens of her conversations. As weeks
and months sped on, she was delighted to find their minds awakened
more and more to perceive not only
manifold beauties in the works
of God, but abounding evidences of
the divineskill and goodness. Every
day they would suggest to her new
topics for conversation, while their
questions and remarks grew more
and more intelligent.
But she was far from being satisfied with this. Morning and evening she entreated her Heavenly Fa
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246   AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
ther to send his Holy Spirit to regenerate and  sanctify them, and
thus fit them for heaven. Every
day she felt that the trust committe(l to her by her dying sister was
not fulfilled until she had been
enabled to lead the orphan boys to
reconciliation with their Father in
heaven, through acceptance of Jesus
Christ as their Saviour.
One day, after she had been conversing with the boys she was exceeding,ly pleased to hear Archie remark, as soon as his two brothers
were gone:
"Aunt Fanny, I have been thinkingr, lately that if we, with our darkened understandings and limited
powers, can see so much of God in
his wvorks, how much more must the 
CONCLUSION.
Aints in heaven and the angels see!
Lnd if this little world of ours which
Las been marred by sin affords so
many proofs of God's glory, how
much more impressive must be the
exhibitions of that glory to those
who are close around his throne!"
"Yes, mny dear boy, the glories of
those heavenlv mansions, if revealed
to us, would be far beyond our
present powers of comprehension.
But when God takes a redeemed soul
to dwell with him in glory he no
doubt prepares him for its enjoyment by giving him enlarged faculties and a clearer understanding
than he ever had on earth.  I saw,
some time ago, some beautiful lines
on this subject which I will repeat
to you.
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248  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
Since o'er thy footstool here below,
Such radiant gems are strewn,
Oh! what magnificence must glow,
My God! about thy throne!
So brilliant here those drops of lightWhere the full ocean rolls, how bright!
If night's blue curtain of the sky
With thousand stars iniwrought,
Hung like a royal canopy
With glittering diamonds fraughtBe, Lord, thy temple's outer veil,
What splendor at the shrine must dwell!
The dazzling sun at noontide hour,
Forth from his flaming vase,
Flinging o'er earth the golden shower
Till vale and mountain blazeBut shows, 0 Lord! one beam of TiiNE:
What, then, the day where thou dost shine!
Ah! how shall these dim eyes endure
That noon of living rays,
Or how my spirit, so impure,
Upon thy glory gaze?
Anoint, 0 Lord! anoint my sight,
And robe me for that world of light.
" ly dear aunt," said Archie, "I 
COLOURS.
have been trying to give my heart
to the Lord Jesus, and asking him
to pardon all my sins, and prepare
me for his service."
"I am rejoiced to hear it, my
dear boy," said his aunt, "more
than tongue can tell. And has the
Lord Jesus heard your prayers?"
" I do hope so," he replied.  "I
feel that I have a love to God and
to the Saviour which I had not before. I sometimes enjoy a sweet
peace when thinking of God and of
his way of salvation through Christ.
And oh! aunt Fanny, when I think
of how much he did and suffered
for our salvation, I want to give my
whole life and strength to his service.
I want to tell everybody what a
glorious Saviour he is."
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250  AUNT FANNY'S HOME.
" I thank God," exclaimed his
aunt, "for his goodness and mercy.
And now, dear Archie, we must give
him no rest intil your brothers are
both brought to look to him as their
Saviour."
Norwas it long before aunt Fanny
had reason to hope that her prayer
was fully answered. Willie was
naturally a far more thoughtless
and less impressible boy than Archie. But before that year closed,
he too seemed to have been reached
by the influences of God's Spirit,
and avowed to his aunt that he had
chosen " the good part."
Dear little Samuel also, in his
childish way, expressed his desire
to be a child of God like his namesake of old and like good King 
CONCLUSION.
Josiah, and gave many sweet little
evidences that renewing grace was
working upon his heart.
And now we must say good-bye
to aunt Fanny and her nephews.
Feeling that she has the Almighty
God to be her helper in the work,
she has braced herself up with renewed courage and zeal to train the
orphan boys for the Redeemner's service.
Archie has devoted himself to
that noblest of all professions, the
ministry of the Gospel, and looks
forward hopefully to the day when
he can proclaim to his dying fellowmen the glad news of salvation
through Jesus Christ.
What his brothers will do or become, is not certain. But under the
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guidance of God's blessed Spirit, and
the judicious instructions of aunt
Fanny, they will, we may hope, do
well whatever they undertake, and
live for God's glory and the good
of mankind.