BOY'S HOLIDAY BOOK. Illustrations. SHIPS (Front.") 36 QUEEN SEMIBAMIS RECEIVING PRESENTS AND HOMAGE FROM HER SUBJECTS 71 GLASS HOUSE 80 PIGHT AT SEA 177 THE MASTODON 199 THE PYRAMIDS OF EGYPT AND INUNDATION OF THE NILE. 233 HIEROGLYPHICS OX THE MONUMENT AT LTTXOR . . . 241 A FARM HOUSE AND YARD 257 10 1 Fore-top. 2 Windlass. 3 Ship's Gun. 8 Stern. 4, 4 Ship's Anchor and 9 Rudder. Cable. 6 Capstan. 6 Crosstrees. 12 Lead -line and Reel. 7 Stem. 13, 13 Sextant and Telescope. 14 Cathead. 15 Fore-topgallantmast head. 10 Compass 16 Jolly-boat. 11 Buoy. 17 Wheel. THE ROYAL HOLIDAY AND YOUNG STUDENTS' BOOK, THE HOLIDAY ^OOK FOR THE JOUNG AND THE YOUNG ^STUDENTS' J^OLIDAY BOOK COMPLETE IN NE BY WILLIAM MARTIN. LONDON : JAMES BLACKWOOD & CO., PATERNOSTER ROW. PREFACE. ANOTHER edition of the Holiday Book calls for no apology, as its success and popularity have been long ago acknowledged. It may, however, be proper to state, that the present edition has been both enlarged and improved; many statements that were correct ten years since have been found capable of modifica- tion, and it has therefore been thought better to submit the whole book to revision. It is now printed from new type, with new engravings, and on good paper. In the second series there are inserted many new subjects ; and, while the scope of the whole remains unaltered, the language has, in many places, been simplified, so as to render it more acceptable to youthful readers. If the juveniles of the present day find the Holiday Book as amusing and instructive as did their fathers and mothers, the aim of both author and publisher will be fully answered. CONTENTS, PAGE Ancient History 65 History of the Assyrians and Babylonians 66 The Second Assyrian Empire . . . 290 j, History of the Medes .... 293 Lydiang . . . .297 Bible Lessons 7,264 Boat Building 114 Butterflies 210 Different Kinds of Ships -. .41 History, Geography, and Chronology . . . .55 Time ... 56 Of the Year and its Divisions . . 58 History ... 63 History of Ancient Egypt 227 Lessons on the Lord's Prayer ...... 280 My Grandfather's Stories 46 Story of Little Dick and the Giant . . . . .51 Limby Lumpy . . . 250 The Young Babbit Fancier . 304 Geordie and the Sick Dog . . 312 Natural History The Bee 202 The Beaver 21 The Boa Constrictor .... 181 The Crocodile 286 The Dog 246 The Paper Nautilus . . . .282 The Spider 25 The Stork 270 Natural Theology Object Lesson : A Bird's Wing . . 300 Physics On Nature and its Phenomena .... 215 On Cause and Effect 217 Of Matter ; its various States and Properties . 218 The Minuteness, Divisibility, and Indestructi- bility of Atoms 220 Of the other Properties of Matter . . .223 Till CONTEXTS. Picture Lessons On Form The Farm House Building .... Poetry A Little Child's Joy A Sister in Heaven to a Brother on Earth Boy and Bird Christ the Bread of Life . . . " . Christ the Living Water Flowers ........ God the Inscrutable Invocation . . . . . . . Lore ......... Prayer The Boy and the Butterfly The Busy Bee The Lamb The Orphan Boy's Tale The Squirrel Ships Teachings from Nature ...... A Drop of Dew Clouds Sight . ... Rivers ..... The Dawn .... The Sea . . . " . The Storm .... The Woods .... Thanksgiving for Existence ..... The Birds The Flowers The Juvenile Lecturer ...... The Life, Travels, and Adventures of Reuben Ramble . The Moon The Selfish Boy The Stars The Sun The Wonders of Geology The Mastodon, Megatherium, To the Children of England, Scotland, and Ireland FAGB . 31 . 257 . 274 . 214 . 2G6 . 79 . 77 . 218 . 213 . 273 . 12 . 189 . 5 . 108 . 206 . 107 . 109 . 208 . 35 . 10 . 197 . 196 . 2fi7 . 193 . 268 . 192 . 190 . 195 . 262 19 . 17 . 80 . 1-17 . 14 . Ill . 15 . 13 etc. 199 1 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. TO THE CHILDKEN OF ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IEELAND. MY DEAE LITTLE CHILDREN, ANT of you have beard of me, I dare say ; and if you have read any of my books, you will know that I love little children, and desire to see them wise and good, cheerful and happy. I have seen many thousands of children in my time, high and low, rich and poor ; both in our own and in foreign countries. I have watched them in their studies, and joined with them in their amusements ; and the more I have known of little children, the more I have loved them ; and I do love them very dearly. I believe that little children love me, and those who do so will hearken to what I am going to say, for I must tell you what I think of a little child. A little child is a little bud not yet opened : and as in a little bud lies folded up all the blossom of the full- blown rose, so, within the mind of a little child lies B 2 TO THE CHILDREN 03? enclosed that loveliness which will grow and expand itself, until it bursts into blossom und beauty delight- ful to behold. But you know there must be a power to draw this blossom forth ; a rose-tree would not grow, nor would the bud open, unless they were watered by the rain, and cheered by the sunshine ; neither would the mind of a little child come into blossom without something to draw it forth: that something is EDUCATION. The word Education means to draw forth the facul- ties. You know, my dear children, that the rose, after it has blossomed, dies : its leaves decay, and however beautiful its blossom may be, it perishes : but behind all is the seed, and within the seed is the germ, or principle of another life. So it is with a little child ; when its body shall wither as a leaf, then shall arise the germ of its future being. It is the SOUL that shall live for ever, and blossom in eternity. Are you not glad to hear this ? But have you not sometimes seen a little worm eating the rose-bud away, and thus destroying it before it had time to blossom ? Just as that worm would destroy the bud, so would sin destroy the immortal SOUL. The end of Education, then, is to kill sin, and fit the soul for another life, more holy and bright than. this can ever be. It is to make us wise and good, and happy here, that we may be happy hereafter ; that we may be God's children children of light and glory and gladness in Heaven. Do you wish to burst forth into blossom like a EKGLA5TD, SCOTLAND, A25TD IRELAND. $ littlo flower ? Do you wish to cheer all hearts and gladden all eyes by being good ? to shine brightly in your heavenly father's sight ? Do you wish to scatter fragrance around you like a rose, in acts of kindness ? Do you wish for your happiness to consist in making others happy ? Listen to me, little children. Would you like to partake of the great banquet set before you throughout Nature? to know of the wonders of God's beautiful creation, in Earth, Air, -Sea, or Sky ? to know something of Animals, Plants, and Minerals, and all things that are, and of the laws by which they are governed and sustained by their great and good Creator ? Listen to me, my little ones. "Would you like to know of different countries ? of different nations ? to be made acquainted with their histories and their various productions ? of the great men who have lived in ages long ago, and what they have thought, said, and done ? Listen to me. Did you ever see a rose-bush which had been neglected by the gardener, with its rude and crooked shoots entangled and massed with weeds, and choked by briars, nettles, and thorns ? Alas ! such is the state of a little child without Education ; its mind is choked with evil, and the soul, the germ of its future existence, is blighted. But Education, like a gardener, comes and prunes the little tree, cuts off the straggling branches, digs about its roots, destroys the noxious weeds, trains it up into elegance of form, sustains and comforts it; and then it blossoms more beautifully, and bears more B 2 4 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. plentifully than ever. I will be your Gardener, myr dear little children. But I cannot do all ; I must look to Heaven for the sunshine and the moisture. Without the influence- of HIM who said, " My doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall distil as the dew, as the small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers upon the grass," I shall do nothing. Tour affectionate friend, "\YlLLIAM M AUXIN. PKATEE. UNEEL, my child, for God is Jiere ! Bend in love and not in fear ; Kneel before him now in prayer, Thank him for his constant care; Praise him for his bounty, shed Every moment on tliy head : Ask him to point out thy way, And to gnard thee through the clay ; Ask him still to watch and keep Thee in the silent hours of sleep ; Ask for Light, to know his word, Ask for Love, to shed abroad ; Pray for Strength, for thou art weak, And for Grace and Mercy seek. Ask for Faith to bear thce on, 'Through the might of Christ his Son 5 THE HOLIDAY BOOK; Pray for mercy in nis name, Who from heaven, to save thee, came ; Ask his Spirit still to guide thee, Through the ills that may betide thee;. Ask for Peace, to lull to rest Every tumult of thy breast ; Ask his soul-sustaining Truth, As the spring dew of thy youth ;. Ask his Promises, to bless Thee in thy age's helplessness ; Ask in aice, but not in fear ; Kneel, my child, for GOD is here ! God thy Father is,, and friend, Thy only stay, thy only trust ; He loves thee, and his wings extend To shield thee, though a child of dust.. Lave 1dm, then, for he is good; Sink before him he is ivise ; ILife and health, and rest and food, He still ordains, and still supplies. Love 7iim, for he loveth tkee, Bendeth now thy prayer to hear ; Kneel, then, in deep humility, And pray, my child, for GOD is near. BIBLE LESSONS. CHAPTEE I. "Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth. you vrere desirous of presenting your parent with a flower, you would not pluck one with its blossoms fading, nor would you gather one fully blown ; you would rather seek for one whose petals were just unfolding, whose buds were just bursting to the sun : for you would know that such would be a more acceptable offering. So, in making an offering of the heart to God, it should be made when the heart is in the bud, when its beauty is about to open to the light, when all its thoughts and its powers are fresh and delightful, as the odour and blossoms of an early flower. "When God required sacrifice and offerings from his people, he expressly declared the victim should be young a lamb or goat of a year old ; the first fruits of the earth ; the firstlings- of the flock. May not this teach us that God is anxious to receive the youthful heart ? To remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, is to give up thy heart to him ; to seek after him ; to strive to know him ; to endeavour to please him ; to fear him ; to serve him ; and to love him. " My son, give me thine heart." This is the require- ment of Almirrhtv God. But how is this heart to be 8 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. brought to him ? Not when it is old and withered ; not when it is disfigured by wicked thoughts, and blackened by evil passions, selfishness, and strife. Our first duty, therefore, is to pray to God that he will be pleased to cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the influence of his Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love him ; and that thus renewed and made holy, wo may offer ourselves now, in the time of our youth, an acceptable offering unto our heavenly Father. CHAPTER II. HOW WE SHOULD EEMEMBEE OtTE CEEATOB. We should remember that he is our CEEATOE ; that he made us for his glory ; that we are his, and not our own; that in him we live, and move, and have our being ; that life is nothing more than an opportunity given to us to prepare ourselves for enjoyment with him in heaven. We should remember that he is our REDEEMEE ; that he was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself; that he is ever willing to save us; that he hath not dealt with us after our sins, nor rewarded us according to our iniquities ; but that, while we were at enmity with him, he has shown his love to us by the death of his Son. We should remember that he is our SANCTIFIEE, and that by his Holy Spirit he illuminates our minds with truth ; that by his Spirit he will guide us, sustain us, and comfort us ; make us holy, cleanse us from our BIBLE LESSONS. 9 sins, and give us that peace which passeth all under- standing. We should remember that GOD is ever present ; that he is about our bed, and about our path, and spieth out all our ways ; that when we do evil he is angry with us ; and when we do what is right we please him. We sJiould rememler that GOD is powerful and icise ; that he only knows what is best ; and that whatever he ordains is in his infinite wisdom. "We are in his hands like clay in the hands of the potter, and he can and will do what it pleaseth him to do ; therefore, in all our trials and sufferings we must submit with a cheerful heart, and say, " Thy will be done," for thou doeth all things well. We must rememler that GOD is good and merciful, and endeavour to search out his goodness in every- thing we see ; for there is no place in which the good- ness of God does not show itself in the earth, in the .air, in the sea. His tender mercies are over all his works. We must rememler that GOD is faithful and just; that whatever he has promised he will perform ; and that, if we continue in sin, he will most assuredly punish us hereafter ; but, that, if we repent, he will forgive. We must rememler that GOD is holy and true ; that we must be pure in heart before we can see him, and sincere in all we do before him ; and, finally, in our dealings with our fellow-men, we should imitate his goodness, his justice, his faithfulness, his truth, and Ms mercy ; for so only shall we prepare ourselves for his eternal kingdom, and everlasting union with HIM. TEACHINGS FKOM XATTJEE. INTEODTTCTION. LOOK around you, little child, and tell me what you see. The world is new to you. Above you is the bright blue sky, the sun, the clouds ; at night you see the moon and stars. Around you are trees, shrubs, plants, flowers, fruit ; hills, vales, streams, rocks ; men, beasts, birds, fish, insects, and worms. You see all sorts of forms ; some round, some square, some bent, some straight, some short, some long, some thin, some thick, some sharp, some blunt, some smooth, some rough. You see things of all hues red, blue, yellow, white, black, brown, green ; some are bright, some dull. You hear the song of birds, the hum of voices, the TEACHINGS TEOM STATUTE. 11 fall of waters, the rush of winds, and the Qry of beasts ; and at times the sound of bells, and other music. Look at your own body you have eyes, ears, hands, arms, legs, feet ; a head, a face, a nose, a mouth ; teeth, tongue, lips. Tell me what you can do. Tou can eat, drink, sleep, move, run, walk, jump, breathe, laugh, cry ; you can see, hear, feel, taste, smell; and, what is more strange, can THINK and speak. Tou have a mind, and can reason, reflect, and judge. Tou not only know that there are things that you see, hear, feel, taste, and smell; but you can, learn what they are for, and how to make use of them. I shall, then, tell you of some of the things that you see and hear, and feel around you, and of what you feel within you, that you may know something about them ; and I hope you will make a good use of what I teacli. To know these things is to know nature; and to know nature is to know something of God, who is the author of nature. To know ourselves should also be our study ; for if we do not know how poor, how rich, how great, how little, how high, how low we are, and how to govern ourselves, our knowledge is vain ! 12 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. INVOCATION. LET me talk with pretty flowers, O'er the earth growing, Through the lovely meads and bowers, Everywhere blowing. Let me talk with pretty birds, Joyfully winging ; Listen to their merry words While they are singing. Let me talk with gentle lambs, Frisking and prancing, Round and round their happy dams Skipping and dancing. Let me talk with summer cloud?, Hear their gay story, Creeping to the west in crowds, Sparkling with glory. Let me talk with mid-day's light, Now proudly gleaming ; Whisper to the stars at night, When softly beaming. Let me talk with streams and floods, Winds o'er them flying ; Xet me talk with hills and woods, Echoes replying Let me kneel to Hm who lives Throughout all Nature Life and joy, and beauty gives To every creature. TEACHINGS irnoji NATURE. 13- THE SUN. THE sun gives us light and heat ; it is seen to rise in the east, and to set in the Avest. "When we first see it, then it is the morn ; when it shines brightly, it is day ; when it sinks down in the west, it is night. God made the sun, to give light upon the earth ; he also made the eye : thus the sun and the eye are made for each other. If we had no eyes we could not see ; nor could we if there were no sun. Do you not love to look on the sun, when the clouds are red and rosy with his beams ? Do you not like to feel his warmth ? The birds and beasts, and even the fish in the sea, all love the light and heat of the sun. If there Avere no sun there would be no heat, nor light ; all things would be dark and cold ; birds and beasts, and fish and trees, shrubs and plants, would die. Ought Ave not, then, to thank God for being so A-ery good to us, as to give us the sun to cheer our eyes- and our heart ; to make the seeds groAV, the buds to- bloom, and the fruit to gro\v ripe ? A little boy once said, " I should like to see God ;" and his father took him into the sun's rays, and he said, " My child, try and look at the sun." So the little boy looked up ; but the bright rays of the sun seemed to blind him, and he fell down as if he had been hurt. "My boy," said his father, "if you cannot look at the sun, how shall you look upon the great God who made the sun?" THE HOLIDAY BOOK. If you cannot see God, God can see you, for his eyes are in every place : he sees and knows all you do or say. THE MOON. THE moon is not so bright as the sun. She shines by night ; but, at times, you may see her by day. The moon has no light of her own, but shines by the light of the sun being cast on her ; just the same as a white house, when seen at a great distance. The moon is round, like the sun, and is of great use to the earth : how soft are her beams in the still time of night ; how sweet to walk by moonlight, and see her shining in the stream. The moon goes round the earth once a month; sometimes she looks very small, and then she is called a new moon ; sometimes she shows only one-half of her round body, then she is called a half moon ; when she looks large and round, she is called a full moon. "We say new moon, but it is always the same moon. If you look at the moon, you will see that some parts of her face are dark, and some bright. These dark parts are thought to be deep dells, and the bright spots are the hills ; for the moon is a little world. I do not know if there are any persons living in the moon ; but it may be that there are. I cannot think of any place, in which our good God will not show his love and goodness. Did you never hear of the man in the moon ? I dare say you have. But this is an idle tale : how could TEACHINGS TEOi NATTJHE. 15 a man get into the moon ? Some people think the dark parts of the moon are like a man, and that they can also see his dog, who, with him, was taken up thero because the man picked up sticks on a Sunday. You may learn by this, that when weak people cannot tell what is the true cause of a thing, they make up a story to suit it. This is very wrong, and has been the cause of much evil in the world. It is very wrong not to keep the Lord's day holy ; but every day is the Lord's day too ; and there is no day in which we may tell falsehoods. THE STAES. LOOK at the stars when it is night how bright they shine ; and how far and wide their light is thrown. They seem like bright sparks of fire set in the dark blue sky; but they are not so. Some of them are suns, like our sun, and give light to worlds, as our sun gives light to this world ; and some of them are worlds that have light from our sun. You cannot count the stars ; and, if you could, there are many more which you cannot see, as they are so very far off. There are some stars, which we cannot see, so far off, that their light has not had time to reach us since the world was made. And yet light will come to us in a very short time from our sun. In eight minutes, a ray of light will come all the way from the sun to you. 1G THE HOLIDAY BOOK. If you had been born -when the earth was first made, and had begun to count the stars from the first day, you would not have told them all by this time, there are so many. How great must their number be ; and when we think that they are all suns, that shine on other worlds, how grand is the thought ! But what must that Great Being be who made the stars ? "When we think of him our minds seem lost. But he is our God, and has told us what we are to do to please him; for we have something in us of more worth to him than all the host of stars. It is the soul of man ! The stars shall fade, and pass away ; but our souls will never die. "When we think of this, sun, and moon, and stars, grow dim. Let us love and serve our great and good God, that, when this life is past, we may be with him far above the stars, and dwell with him for ever. THE FLOWERS. WHEN we walk in the fields, how many flowers ice v see ; some spring from the grass, where they look like little stars ; some twine in the hedge ; some grow on each lank; and some hang from trees and. plants. How we love to look at them red and blue, and yellow and white. Some are round, like cups ; some stand up, with sun-like rays ; some hang down their heads ; but all their forms seem to please the eye. And then, while they look so bright and fair, how sweet they smell. The air is full of their sweets ; and bees sing songs round them, and sip honey from their orosy lips. They come in the first soft vunds of spring, and c 18 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. shed their pure bloom on the white bosom of the snow; they seem to look at the sun with joy, and Avatch him through the day. At night, when the sun is gone to rest, they seem sad, hang their heads, and droop. But at morn they open their leaves, and the clear dew seems like a tear of joy in their eyes, to hail the sun that lights them. Why did God make the flowers so fair, and pure, and bright, and paint them with so many hues ? Be- cause it was his wish that they should make glad our eyes. He might have made them dull, dark, ugly things, so that when we looked upon them they would have given us pain, and not joy ; but God wished to make us happy. As the sun shines upon flowers, so God smiles on us when we do what is right : when we, like him, try to shed light and joy, and peace, about us. As flowers turn toward the sun all day, and seem to follow him in his course, so should we let our hearts turn to the God who made us ; for he is our bright Sun, and without him we should fade and die. THE BTEDS. Go forth in the bright spring, and hear the song of birds ; mark how they burst from wood, or copse, or hedge ; and with what joy they spread their wings. Their songs seem hymns of praise to God ; and how sweet are those sounds to our ears ! Do you not think that when they sing they are happy ; and that they feel the sun's light; and love to skip and hop i'rom tree to tree ; or to soar up in the air ? The lark mounts up above the clouds, and sings when he is so high, he cannot be seen; the thrush thrills upon the elm-tree bough ; the dove sits cooing on the fir; and the kingfisher skims the lake in song. The robin comes to us when the snow is on the ground, and pipes a soft and touching note; the cuckoo and the swallow come to give us tidings of spring, c2 20 TIIE HOLIDAY BOOK. The nightingale sings at night ; when the moon is up, you may hear her song in some still and quiet spot, filling the dark woods with music. "With what care birds build their nests : stick by stick, straw by straw, hair by hair they take, till a nice round warm nest is made, in which they bring up their young. Then how kind they are to them; they go and search for food to feed them, and bring worms, and grain, and pulse, and seed, that they may not want. Should anything seek to hurt their young, they will rather give up their lives than leave them. They will die in defence of their young. How cruel it is to put a bird in a cage ; a cage is a prison. Who would like to pine and pine within iron bars ? God made birds free. How shall we dare to con- fine those whom he made free as the air ? Those who love to be free will never cage a bird, and who does not love to be free ? NATUEAL HISTOEY. THE BEAVER. THE beaver is something like a rat in appearance, but much larger, being nearly three feet long. Its body is covered all over with hair, of a deep chesnut brown. The hair is of two kinds : one, long and coarse ; the other, short, fine, and silky. The hind feet of the beaver has membranes between the toes. Its tail is broad and flat ; it is covered with scales, and serves as a rudder, to direct the animal's course when it swims. The beaver is really a wonderful animal, for it seems to partake of the nature both of the fish and the quad- ruped, and is adapted for either land or water. It is found in the remote parts of North America, where they live in great numbers. It may be met with also in most parts of northern Europe. The principal quality for which beavers are remark- 22 THE HOLIDA.Y BOOK. able, is the surprising skill with which they construct their habitations, which form a regular fenced and well-built town. The beavers assemble together in the months of June and July, to the number of about two hundred in a company, and generally on the margin of some lake or river, where they build a dam, or dike. This dam is a mud wall, thrown up to a certain height, so that should the river rise, through floods or the tide, it may not overflow their houses, built on the side of the river. This dam, or pier, is often a hundred feet in length, and ten or twelve feet thick at the base, and is built as firmly as one would lay the foundation of a house. It is formed of wood and clay. For wood, the little beavers cut down a little tree or two Avith their teeth, and float it to the spot. These are again cut and divided, and then driven into the ground with their fore feet, just as piles are driven in by a builder. Smaller pieces of wood are next driven in between the larger pieces ; and then the whole is overlaid with clay, that it may resist the moisture. To spread the clay on the wood, the beavers make use of their broad flat tails, instead of a trowel. They next begin to build their houses, which are of an oval form, and divided into three stories. The first apartment, or kitchen, is generally below the level of the pier, and is usually full of water, that the animals may swim to it. The second story is their diuing-parlor, drawing- room, and bed-room, in which they congregate to eat, to enjoy themselves, to sleep, and to bring up their NATURAL HISTORY. 23 young. The third apartment is kept in reserve, in case of any high flood taking place. The walls are all nicely plastered inside and out : they pluck up fine grass with their teeth, and mix it up with the mud, so that it may make it stick to- gether, and not break off in small chips ; and this they use to make their apartments weather-tight. The inside of their principal room is generally about twelve feet long, and eight or ten broad, and Avill hold six. : or eight beavers ; and sometimes three or four hundred have been found in one large house, divided into a number of apartments, communicating with each other. In the month of August or September, the beavers having finished their building, begin to lay in their stores for the winter, consisting of the branches and twigs of the plane, the birch, and other trees. The branches of these trees, which they use for food, are sometimes ten feet in length. These they steep in water, in order to soften them, and bring them in a state fit for aliment. All their winter store is laid up in as much order as the wood in a timber-yard, and exactly the quantity is stowed away likely to be consumed. The logs are laid across each other in such a manner that any quantity may be taken without disturbing the rest. This timber is again cut, before being finally used, into smaller parcels, and conveyed to one of their largest lodges ; where the whole family meet, and receive their different portions, which are shared out equally. And thus the beavers live throughout the winter 2'4> THE HOLIDAY BOOK. and so they live, from generation to generation, in. peace and harmony, unless disturbed by man, who covets their fur to make hats. The best kind of hats are covered with the fine fur of the beaver, which is combed, washed, and dyed, for that purpose ; but, in consequence of the partial extinction of these animals, the fur of hares and rabbits is now much used instead. Castoreum, so much used by the physician, is also prepared from this animaL May you not learn a lesson of industry and fore- thought from the beaver? NATUBAL niSTOBT. The Garden Spider, (Epeira Diadema.) THE SPIDER. HERE is what some cliildreu would call an ugly, black,, dirty spider, and then run away from it, as if they could not bear to look at it. But why should we hate or loathe a spider ? I once heard of a poor prisoner, who, being placed in solitary confinement for several years, would have died, had he not found a companion in a spider, which at last grew so tame, that it would come at his call, mount his back, run down his arm, and feed from hia hand. Spiders, like all other animals, have some degree of' knowledge. They see, and hear, and feel, and taste. 26 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. and smell ; they may have senses that we know not of. It is quite time, too, that they have great art, skill, and contrivance. The spider which you see in the cut hangs by what appears to be a single thread. You will scarcely believe me when I tell you, that this small thread is 7nade of above five thousand threads. Do you know how many five thousand are ? If you were to take a piece of chalk and make five thousand marks, you would cover the whole floor of the room ; and, I dare say, it would take you an hour or two. At the point where the thread begins you see five dots ; these are five little nipples, by which the spider spins, and are called spinnerets. They are all covered over with regular rows of little points, like little hairs; each of these has a little tube, called a spinnerule, from which the spider spins a thread too fine to be seen by the naked eye. Here is a cut, which shows the five spinnerets with the spiunerules on them. But as it would be quite impossi- ble to show five thousand threads in so small a space, only about fifty are represented. Each thread in the picture, therefore, stands for a hundred ; and fifty times a hundred is five thousand. But how are these five thousand little threads united ? They are said to be joined together at the distance of about one-eighth of an inch from the place where they issue forth ; but how they are brought together is not very well known. 3s'ATUT?AL niSTOEY. 27 If you ask why the Creator did not contrive to have a single thread instead of so many : the only reply to be given is, that the present plan makes the thread stronger than it would other-wise be ; for every rope- maker knows that the finer the threads are of which his rope is composed, the stronger it is ; not that I think we ought to ask such questions. "When a spider begins its cord it presses the fine spinnerules against the body to which it wishes to have the thread adhere, and the fine threads, which go to form the main thread, are thus spread over a large space, and more strongly fastened. Here is a representation of the method of beginning the thread. The upper part represents the expanded end of the cord, and the lower end all the five thousand threads cen- tred in one. According to a celebrated writer, on a young spider, not larger than a grain of sand, it would require four millions of the threads from its spinnerules to make a cord the thickness of a hair. The way spiders are made in other parts of their bodies is also curious. The fore part of the body is covered with a hard shell. Around the head are several bright eyes ; some have six, others have eight. On the front of the head are situated two rough pincers, with strong points, toothed like a saw, and 28 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. ending in claws like those of a cat. Below the point of a claw is a small hole, through which the animal emits a drop of venom, which, though innocent with regard to man, Avill destroy its prey. Watch a spider when you see one spinning its web. Observe, should any part of it be broken, how skilfully he repairs it. How he shakes the dust from it, and how quickly he puts its prey out of pain when it is caught. There are in different countries several kinds of spiders. The largest is a native of Italy, and its body is as big as a small egg. Some people are very much afraid of the Tarantula ; but it has been proved seldom to do any one any harm. There is also a spider called the bird spider (mygale avicularia). It is very large, and has, perhaps, for that reason, been supposed to catch small birds. It is now, however, ascertained that it does not spin a web ; and it is very probable that it may prey on the insects found on trees. There is a spider (mygale c&mentaria) called the mason, or trap-door spider, so named on account of the curious construction of its nest. These spiders dig in the dry and mountainous districts of the south of Europe, in New South "Wales, in Jamaica, and Corsica. They usually select a dry spot, void of green ; and here they dig a gallery a foot or two in depth, and large enough to admit of their going in and out ; this is lined with a tapestry of silk, glued to the walls. This has the lustre of satin, and is always of a dazzling whiteness. The door, which is circular, is constructed of many layers of earth, kneaded and bound together with silk. NATURAL niSTonr. 29 But the trap-door, by which the little insect lets himself in and out, is the most singular part of the construction; being composed of more than forty layers of earth and web, one within the other, like a nest of pill-boxes. The threads of this door-tapestry are brought to the upper part of the door, or trap, and formed into an excellent elastic hinge, which allows the door to open when the spider comes out, or, when pulled, to let the spider in, but always shuts again of its own accord, the same as some doors which have a spring-box behind them. There is another spider, equally wonderful, calle the water spider, which spins a cup-like web, that an- swers the purpose of a diving-bell, in which it de- scends to the bottom of the water, for the purpose of feeding on aquatic insects. In the new philosophical toy, called the Aquarium, these spiders can be kept very easily. Spiders have no wings, and yet they can manage to fly. They are not civil engineers, and yet they can construct suspension-bridges far more wonderful than any of ours, though of wrought iron. "When a spider wishes to change his situation, he sometimes shoots out a long filament from behind, and this floating in the air, is at last, from its light- ness, sufficient to support his minute body, and away he flies, as secure as a man in a balloon. Sometimes these creatures mount three or four hundred feet high, and capture gnats and other insects in their passage. SO THE HOLIDAY BOOK. At other times a spider will hang himself down by a thread, and, turning himself towards the wind, shoot out other threads from his body, which are Avafted about in the air, until they fasten on trees, walls, and other bodies. "When the spider finds that the threads hive attached themselves, which he ascertains by pulling them with his feet, he uses them as a bridge, to pass to the place where they are fixed. The thread of the spider, although so very minutely formed, does not come forth in a continuous line, but consists of a number of little globules, or viscid, sticky matter, which run one into the other, as they proceed from its body ; and yet some of the threads do not appear to be made in this way ; but, in both cases, the insect uses its hind feet, as a reel, to draw the threads from its body. Such are a few particulars about spiders; and, as they herd on every bush, in corners, and float about the air, in all directions, I would advise my young friends to look out for them, and endeavour to ascer- tain some other of their remarkable contrivances. PICTURE LESSONS. CVERT thing has form; and it is right that we should know the forms of things, and also- the names of forms themselves. Here are a number of forms, and a number of things of various forms ; let us look at them, and see what they are. Here we have two lines, they are both straight, "When a line is quite straight, it is called a right line - ; when it is arched, as in the next figure, it is called a curved line. "When lines are opposite to each other, as you see these are, they are called pare, ll"l lines. The two right lines are parallel to each other, and the two curved lines, which form a sort of arch, are also parallel to each other. The Hues which look like the bricks in the arch, are not parallel to each other. The inside of a curved line is called its concave, and the outside its convex. The next figure contains several lines ; you see none of them are parallel, or opposite to each other. AVhen lines are seen in this way, ioined to a point, they form what are called angles : when you turn the corner of a street you form an angle ; when you put your hand to your mouth, your arm forms an angle, the point of which is the elbow. 32 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. The line which goes straight up ( | ) is called a -perpendicular line ; the line which goes straight across ( ) is called a horizontal line. When a perpen- dicular line and a horizontal line meet in a point, they form a right angle. The thick lines which you see in the picture form what is called a rijht angle. "When a line falls aslant upon a horizontal line, if it comes from the right it forms an acute angle, which is less than a right angle ; if it proceeds from the left it forms an obtuse angle, which is greater than a right angle. When a curved line joins a horizontal line, it must form some part of a circle, called an arc. When three linss meet together in three points, the figure they make is called a triangle. The word tri means three ; and a triangle means a figure with three angles. When three sides of a figure are all equal, the figure is called an equilateral triangle; when only two of its sides are equal, it forms what is called an isosceles triangle; when a figure has all its three sides un- equal, it -is called a scalene tri- angle. PICTURE LESSONS. 33 When a figure has four sides, and all of them are equal, and its four angles are right angles, it is called a square. A figure of the form of an egg, is called an oval. It has one end rather more pointed than the other; but, when the ends are equal, it is called an ellipsis. When a figure is round at its lase, namely, the part on which it stands, and tapers up into a point, it is called a cone; any part cut from this, is called the frustrum of a cone. The word frus- trum means a IroJcen piece. You see, if it be cut in one direction, it forms an ellipsis ; if in another, it forms a parabola. A. pyramid is a solid figure, whose sides are tri- angles, which meet in a point above. The base may be a triangle, a square, or any other right-lined figure. This is a prism, wliich is a solid, whose ends are similar equal plane figures, and its sides parallel- ograms. This is a cylinder. Some cylinders are solid, some hollow. A line passing across the end of a cylinder is called its dia- meter ; a line passing round it, is called its circumference. \ THE HOLIDAY BOOH. This is a hexagonal cule. Its top forms a six-sided plane figure, called a hexagon. In this form are made the cells in the honeycomb of the bee. . This is a circle; the line passing across it is called its chord. If this line passed through the point in the centre, it would be called its diameter, and would form two half circles, which would be called semi-circles. Semi means half. The two lines which meet at a point in the centre of the circle are called radii : and so are all lines, reaching from the centre to the circumference of a circle. One would be called a radius. These divide the circle into any number of parts. When into four parts, each, part is called a quadrant : when into six parts, a sextant. Every circle is supposed to be divided into 3CO parts, called degrees ; 90 of these form the quadrant, and GO the sex- tant, which is an instrument used by mariners, from its marking 60 degrees of a circle. Of the use of a knowledge of these figures, and of others not yet described, and of their application, I shall tell you in another lesson. SHIPS. THE SHIP. OF THE HULL, MASTS, ASD YARDS. HEBE are some ships. The one to the left is called a brig, and has two masts ; the one in the centre is, properly, a ship, and has three masts ; that to the right has one mast, and is called a sloop. A schooner is rigged like a brig in its fore-mast, and like a sloop in its main-mast. All vessels having three masts are not called ships, except all the three masts are rigged alike. When this is not the case, a three-masted vessel is called a Lark. The body of the vessel is called the hull, which has a stem (7), that is the fore -part; and a stern (8), which is the hind-part. The bowsprit projects from the stem, and the rudder hangs on the stern. Every vessel has a deck ; some have two, and others three. The deck is that part of the ship upon which the sailors walk. The keel of a ship runs from the stem to the stern underneath, and keeps the vessel steady in the water. The ship in the centre of the cut is an Indiaman. The mast nearest the stem is the jore-mast. It con- sists of three parts the fore-mast, the Jore-topmast, and the fore-topgallant mast. That part of the mast which rises from the deck to the first cross piece is called the Jore-mast; that which rises to the next cross piece is called t\is fore- topmast; and that above is called the fore-topgallant- mast. D2 36 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. The first cross piece is called the fore-top ; the second cross piece is called the cross-trees; and the top of the mast is called the fore-topgallantmast head. The middle mast is also divided into three parts. The lower part is called the main-mast ; the part above- it, the main-topmast ; and the upper portion the rnain- topc/allantmast. The mizen-mast is divided into the mizen-mast, the wizen-topmast, and the mizen-topc/allantmast. The yard-arms, which stretch across the three masts r are named after the masts on which they are placed. OF THE LINES, BIGGIKG, BOATS, AXD FLAGS. THERE are thick ropes stretching from one mast to the other; they are called stays. On the fore-mast there is one from the fore-top to the head of the vessel ;. this is called the fore-stay. Another leads from the fore-topmast to the bowsprit ; this is called the fore- topmast stay. And the one above it, reaching from the fore-topgallantmast to the same part of the bow- sprit, is called the fore-topgallantmast stay. The use of the stays is to keep the masts firm in their places. Those belonging to the mainmast and the mizen-mast are called by the same names, only varied according to the masts to which they respec- tively belong. Attached to the mizen-mast, and projecting over the stern, is a long spar; this is called the trysail loom. The one above it is called the gaff. On these two spars a sail is spread, which is called the trysail. SHIPS. 37 The taut lines, which proceed from the extremity of the yard-arms to the masts, are called lifts. They run through blocks, and are for the purpose of lifting or lowering the sail, as may be required. The lines, which hang loosely from the extremity of the yard-arms, and ruu through a block, are called the braces ; their use is to move the yard-arm round in the direction of the wind, when required. They are called either the fore-brace, main-brace, fore-topgallant- yard-brace, &c. The sails bear the names of the yards from which they hang : the fore-sail, the fore-topsail, fore-top- gallantsail, main-sail, main-topsail, main-topgallant' sail, &c. The bowsprit, seen starting from the head of the vessel, has several parts. The first part, nearest the hull, is the boivsprit ; the spar adjoining that is called t\\QJib-loom ; the two pieces hanging downwards are called the martingale, and serve as a stay to the jib-boom ; the yard across is called the spritsail yard. The sails between the bowsprit and the fore-mast are called jibs. The rigging by which the sailors go aloft is called standing rigging, and is named according to the mast to which it is attached : the fore rigging, the main rigging, mizen rigging, &c. The boat on the deck is called the long boat it is the largest boat ; in this the skiff, or second sized boat, is placed. The third boat is called the captain's gig, which hangs on the quarter. The last boat, which hangs behind, is the jolly-boat ; it is supported by two spars, called davits. 38 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. The long flags suspended from the mast-heads are called penants ; the flag in the left-hand corner of the plate is the union jack ; that in the right-hand corner is called an ensign, containing in one corner the union jack. "When a ship is in distress, the ensign is hoisted upside down. TVINDLASS, CANNON, ANCHOE, CAPSTAN, COMPASS, ETJOT, LEAD, TELESCOPE, QUADRANT, AND CATHEAD. THE -windlass (2) is a moveahle reel, upon which the cable winds round. There are several square holes in it. Into each of these a handspike is placed, and the windlass is turned by men. The windlass is used to bring the ship to proper moorings, and to heave the anchor. The small lell, hanging in the centre, is used to ring the quarters of every hour, in large vessels. In smaller vessels, it is constantly rung in foggy weather, to prevent one vessel from running against another. No. 3 is a ship's gun, which is mounted on a wooden frame, called the stock. There are many kinds of guns, some large, some small ; those which are long are called chasers. No. 4 are a ship's anchor and cable ; the anchor is made partly of Avood, and partly of iron ; the wood part, with iron ties, is called the anchor-stock ; the iron part, between that and the bottom, is called the anclior-sliank ; the two arms, either of which will hold in the ground, are called the flulzes. A portion of chain cable is attached to the ring. SHIPS. 39 Cables are of hempen rope or iron. Those made of rope are used principally, because they are more elastic than iron ones. When a vessel has cast anchor in the open sea, where the tide does not run very strong, the rope cable is used, because it -will better stand the strains and jerks which take place when the vessel is tossed about. The chain cable is best when a vessel is moored in the tides, as the strain is then uniform, although very great. No. 5 is the capstan, which moves on a pivot placed through the deck. It is used for lading and unlading the ship, hoisting goods, and for warping the vessel to lier moorings. No. 9 is the rudder, by which the vessel is steered; the handle is called the tiller. In large vessels, a wheel is put in the place of the tiller, which, by means of a chain, moves the rudder. When the tiller is put to the right, it is called starboard ; when to the left, it is called port ; when in the centre, it is called dice. No. 10 is the compass. This is worked by a magnet, which hangs freely on a pivot in the box. The magnet always points towards the north, in whichever direc- tion the ship turns. (Tor explanation of the magnet and compass, see article Magnet.} The place in which the compass is placed is called the binnacle. No. 11 is the buoy. Buoys are of various shapes. In the cut, one is conical, and the other is a double cone, joined together at the two bases. These are attached by a long line to the anchor, and are thrown overboard with it; rising up to the surface of the water, by being light, they show the place in which the anchor lies. The buoy in the centre is a mooring 40 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. buoy ; that is, a buoy which ships may be made fast to. No. 12 are the lead line and reel. The lead is thrown into the water, and pulled up again; and the line shows how deep the water is, as it is divided into fathoms (six feet) by pieces of cloth. "When the water reaches up to any of the numbers, which are even, as four, six, eight, it is called, ly tlie mark, so many ; when it reaches to any of the number of fathoms that are odd, it is called, by tlie deep, so many. The man who throws the lead overboard stands in the fore-chains ; that is, the lower part of the outside of the fore-mast. This is called heaving the lead. Some- times a lump of grease is fixed in the bottom of the lead, to which the shells, sand, or mud, at the bottom of the sea adhere, which show what kind of bottom it has. No. 13 is the sextant and telescope. The former is an instrument for taking the sun's height in the heavens. No. 14 is called the catJiead; it projects from the bows of a ship, and consists of a stout piece of oak, having a block and hook suspended from one end, with a rope running over a sheave in its upper part. Its use is to heave up the anchor to its proper situation at the bows of the ship, when it is said to be apeak. DIFFERENT KINDS OF SHIPS. fAVING- informed my young friends of the parts of a ship, I shall give them some farther infor- mation concerning various kinds of ships, and of ship- ping in general. The first idea of a ship is supposed to have been suggested by a split reed floating upon the water ; hence the word canoe, from canna, a reed. Be this as it may, the earliest records which history affords on the subject, show the Egyptians traversing the Nile upon rafts. The Pliffiiiicians also availed them- selves of the invention ; and we are told that many islands, even the remote ones of Sicily and Corsica, were colonized with no better assistance; and it is well known that the Peruvians still make sea voyages on their raft, called a balzo, from the spongy tree from which it is made. It consists of a number of logs tightly bound together, and strengthened transversely Try beams, and they are occasionally met with in the open ocean laden with from ten to twenty tons of merchandize. The Egyptians, in improving upon the rafts and canoes which they first used, built vessels with stout joists of acanthus wood, which were mado to lap over like tiles, and were fastened with wooden pins. The seams were tight- ened by introducing the leaves of papyrus with some resinous substance; a mast of acan- thus was raised, and a sail of papyrus suspended from it 42 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. after the manner of the flying barks of the Ladrone Islands, of which a representation is here given. Coeval with the Egyptians in the use of ships were the inhabitants of China ; and it is a wonderful fact, -; " -. that the Chinese have floated down through thirty cen- turies in the same junk which now excites the ridi- cule of our seamen. In the Chinese junk of the present day, we may perhaps see what a ship was in the time of the Phffinicians. The ancient vessels of the Greeks and Romans were very much ornamented. The prow was decorated with painting and gilding, representing the forms of the gods. Its foremost extremity formed a graceful curve ; where it divided the water it was called the goose, from the image of that animal placed there, as an -omen that the vessel should never sink. The stern was sometimes carved in the figure of a shield ; upon a staff there erected, streamers were hung to show the direction of the Avind. There, too, stood the image of the god chosen as the patron of the ship, and called Tutela. Such Avas the description of ships prior to the Gothic invasion. We are told that the ships in whicli the Saxon pirates cruised in the German Ocean, and invaded Britain, were made with a wooden keel, sides and upper parts Avicker, and the exterior hides. But they gradually improved ; and, in the sixteenth cen- tury, a ship Avas built called the " Great Harry," then the wonder of the day. She was a most terrific look- ing monster. Her bow and poop were of a prodi- DIFFERENT ETSDS OF SHIPS. gious height. She had an immense beak, vdth bow and stern balconies ; six round towers at the angles of the poop, gangway, and forecastle, like the turrets of a castle; four masts with tops, literally round, in- verted cones, and abundant streamers on every spar. Modern ships are very different to ancient ones, arising from the invention of gunpowder, and the use of cannon. The word ship is a general name for all large vessels with sails, except galleys, which go with oars and smack sails ; but in more strict signification, it means a square-rigged ves- sel with three distinct masts. They are usually divided into three classes " ships of war," "merchant ships," and "com- mission ships." Ships of war arc divided into different rates, according to their num- ber of guns. A ship that carries 100 guns or more ia called a first rate ; when from 90 to 98, second rates ; when from 64 to 80, third rates ; when from 50 to GO, fourth rates. These again are divided into ships of the line and. f riff ategj the former including those above mentioned, and the latter, swift sailing ships of from 20 to GO guns. A sloop, properly so called, is a vessel with, one mast, and having her sails, her top- mast excepted, set in the plane of her length. A cut- ter differs from a sloop in. having her bowsprit horizon- tal, while that of the sloop THE HOLIDAY steeves or rises upward; and in her mast raking aftwards, or inclining towards the stern. A Irig or brigantine is a square-rigged vessel with two masts. A schooner is a two-masted vessel, with Scnooner. fore and aft sails like a sloop, having a boom to each mast. A Dutch galiot is rigged like a schooner, but of broader and more clumsy build, her bottom being Duten G-.J.ot. A't,erLae felucca. DIFFERENT KINDS OF SHIPS. 45 nearly flat. The form of an Algerine felucca is here given ; and that of a large and loat are well known. Barge. Steamer. Fire-ships are small vessels filled with combustible materials, which are sent into the midst of an enemy's fleet, where they are ignited by a fuze. If they happen to fall on board other ships, and cannot be beaten off, they are almost certain to destroy the vessel with which they come in contact, not only by setting it on fire, but by blowing it to pieces in their explosion. Many improvements have lately been made in the building of ships. Iron has, in many cases, been substituted for wood ; and much more powerful guns have been used than were ever before placed in. vessels of war. MY GEAKDFATIIEE'S STOEIES. CHAPTER I. ELL you a story, my little dears, to be sure I will;" said the old gentleman to bis group of little listeners principally his grand- children, who bad come on a visit to him during the Christmas holidays. "Tell you a story what shall it be about? what sort of story would you like, master Hichard ? for you seem eager enough for it." "Oh ! let it be something wonderful" said the little boy, who sat by the Commodore for he had been a sailor in his time "Let it be about lions, and dragons, .and tigers ; about battles, and sieges, and burning mountains, cataracts, and " "Stop, stop, master Eichard; stop, I say. The cataracts would put out the burning mountains, you know; and, as to dragons, I never saw one in my life." "Why, there is St. George and the dragon; for I caw it on the Queen's carriage the very day of her coronation. I saw St. George sticking the dragon through and through, with a long spear. I know there is a capital story about that. I am sure it must be about some noble deed or other, or the Queen would not put the picture of it on her carriage. " "Bravo, my boy; spoken like a little royalist: but still that is a fabulous story, and I never tell fabulous stories : besides, you do not want to know how to kill a dragon." " Oh, but I should like to be Irave enough to kill MY GUANDFATIIEIl's STOItTES. 47 one. If ever a dragon was to set upon me, I would give him such a cut with a sword, if I had one : I do not think lie would come at me twice. " " Would you be brave enough to kill an ERROR ?" "A what, grandpapa? What sort of an animal is it ? Is it an animal ? I think I have heard the word before. " "It is a very difficult thing to kill, I can assure you ; and it requires more courage than most of us liave. Killing a dragon is nothing to it." " How big is it ? Is it as big as a bullock ? Is it like a lion, a tiger, or a rhinoceros ? Tell me what it is like, grandfather ; do, pray do ?" " It belongs to the family of asses ; is a very shy animal, for it cannot bear to be looked at, and is astonishingly dangerous. It is a disagreable looking thing too, worse than a toad or a spider. It is very cunning and mischievous, and as artful as an old serpent. It is very swift of foot ; but, when in great danger, like a hedgehog, it sometimes rolls itself up in a bundle of rubbish, leaving only its fierce teeth and head out ; so that, when you go near it, to rouse it, yon get sometimes sorely bitten, and almost torn to pieces." "Oh, I warrant you, I could kill him when lie was rolled up. If he rolled himself up only like a hedge- hog, I would get my little axe, and go right at him at once, and chop him to pieces." "Aye, but you forget that this animal is very much beloved by mankind; and, although he is so hideous to look at in the light, yet, in the dark weather, men and women admit him to their houses, think him a perfect 43 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. beauty, and will hug him to their bosoms, and make a complete pet of him; while at the same time he is doing them all the injury he can; for these creatures, when they take hold of a person, generally multiply, till, at last, they drive him mad." "What a strange animal! I wonder I have never seen one. I should like just to get a sight of one. If I saw him in a man's bosom, I would tear him. out, and kill him." "And suppose the man, and all his acquaintances, were to rush upon you with sticks and stones, swords, bayonets, pitch-forks, scythes, and battle-axes ; what would you do then?" "Fight! though it cost me twenty lives." "What! fight against a whole house full of people; perhaps against a whole street, or a whole town, or a whole city r" "Yes." "Then you would be killed." "Xever mind. Better die in a good cause than a bad one ; we can die but once, you know, grandfather." " Spoken like a true knight-errant : and I only wish the error-killers were half as numerous as the man- killers, for we should then get on bravely." " Well, I really should like to see one of these strange things you talk about. But can't you tell me a story about one ? Then, perhaps, I shall know what sort of a thing it really is." "I forgot to tell you one of the best ways of attack- ing this creature. It is not with sword or pistol, or blunderbuss, or gun, or sabre, or hand-grenade, or con- greve-rocket, thunder-bolts, or gunpowder." II Y GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. 49 ''What then?" "Why, with a good roar of laughter; which very often puts the thing to flight, without any further trouble." " What ! you would make us all laugh, would you ? .and my aunt Sophia told me the other day, because I had a good laugh at the story about the man who tried to carry his ass, and so got drowned, that it was very wicked to laugh that I should always look serious, and that I should never read any books but religious books, and stories of good children, who seem to me to be always sick, dying, and " " There he is ; catch him, down with him ! see, :see; here, Lion, seize him, seize him!" So saying, the old gentleman leaped up the dog barked, the children scampered, and everybody fell a-laughing. "Do you see him?" said he to the children. " What ! What, grandpapa what can you raean?" "Why, that great ugly ERROR. Poor Sophia; why .did you not tell her that was an error one of those very ugly, dangerous, disagreeably agreeable, cunning, .and treacherous animals, that, like a Will-of-the-wisp, or Jack-with-the-lan thorn, lead you about in the dark, till you tumble into a ditch ?" " Oh, I think I know what you mean now, grand- papa, " exclaimed Richard. " I see it I can tell what .grandpapa means. I know I know. " " Then do you really like to see little children laugh and be merry, " said master Robert, who stood listen- ing behind. E 50 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. "And why should not little girls arid boys laugh as well as grown-up men and women ? I am sure they have not half so much to cry about. I like to see a little boy with the lightness of his heart in the bright- ness of his eyes, and always cheerful and happy. " When a little boy goes to school, I like to see his face as full of smiles as a May morning ; I like to see him run, and skip, and hop, and jump, all the way there, when he 'cons his tasks;' I like to see good temper sparkle in his eyes ; and, when he has said them, I like to see him come out of school, with a bounce, like the eork from a bottle of champaign. "Be merry and wise, is my motto. If you are wise, you will be merry I have heard say, as merry as a grig. I do not think, though, that the grig can be very merry, when the skin is pulled over his ears. Yet some boys would be merry at that ; but that is aot the merriment that will do for me. " To be merry over another's suffering is wicked ; to be merry when w r e should be serious, is also wrong; but you know, it is said, 'there is a time to be merry as well as to be sad, a time to weep and a time to laugh. ' " I have seen people laugh till they wept ; I have seen little boys and girls \veep till every body laughed at them ; and they, at last, laughed at themselves. " There were once two philosophers ; one was called 'the crying philosopher,' and the other 'the laughing philosopher.' The name of the first was Heraclitus, that of the other Democrates ; one wept over the errora of mankind, the other laughed at them. " I wish you to be little laughing philosophers, and MY GIIANDFATUER'S STOHILS. 51" Bometimes to laugh with. me. Come, now, a good one, 'Ha! ha! ha!' " What are you laughing at ? I have not begun my stories I have not finished my prosing yet. " I wish to make you laugh I wish to make you merry ; a cheerful countenance is a good inheritance ; I would rather have a good, rosy, smiling face, than all the wealth in the world. A smiling face, though, should be the heart's goodness shining through it. Do not think that such a smiling face as I like to see can ever exist with a wicked heart. " To sum up all, be good children, or your smiles will be like the light from decayed wood, which arises not from the goodness of it, but from its utter worth- lessness that is the long and short of the matter. So, next month, I will tell you the story of Limhy Lumpy, the little boy \\lio took a ride on a saddle of mutton." " But do tell us a story now., grandpapa." " Listen to one, then, about a cruel giant. But this will not be a story to laugh at it will rather make you weep." " Never mind, grandpapa ; do let us hear it." " Oh! that will be capital," said Eichard; "I like stories about giants." STOEY OF LITTLE DICK AND THE GIANT. " Poor little Dick ; what a gay blithe fellow he was. He used to go singing and whistling about nearly all day: he was always merry, and scarcely anything could make him sad. E2 52 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. " One day, little Dick thought he would have a ramble in a large forest, at some distance from his home. He had often been to the sides of it before, but it looked so dark, he was afraid to enter. " But Dick was more merry than usual on this day, for the sun shone so brightly, and the flowers looked so lovely, that he sang and whistled till he made the woods ring again. He delighted himself for some time among the trees and flowers ; and, at last, seemed quite glad to have found out such a sweet spot. " There was a clear brook ran through the wood ; and the waters looked so clear, that Dicky, being very thirsty, stooped down to drink; but, just at that moment, he was suddenly seized from behind, and found himself in the hands of a great, tall, fierce, ugly- looking giant, a hundred times as big as himself, for Dick was not much bigger than the giant's thumb. The giant looked at him with savage delight; his mouth opened wide; and he made a noise which seemed to Dick quite terrible. " Dick thought the giant would have eaten him up alive at one mouthful : he did not, however, do this, but took and put him into a large bag, and carried him off. " The poor little captive tried all he could to get out of the bag, but to no purpose the giant held him fast; he screamed, he struggled, he tried to tear a passage the giant laughed, and carried him quite away. " At last the giant came to his house a gloomy looking place, with a high wall all round it, and no trees or flowers. When he got in he shut the door, and took Dick out of the bag. MY GBASDFATIIEB'S STOHIES. 53 " Dick now thought his time was come. "When he looked round he saw a large fire, and before it hung four victims like himself, roasting for the giant's supper. " The giant, however, did not kill Dick ; he took him by the body, and gave him such a squeeze as put him to great pain ; he then threw him into a prison which he had prepared for him. It was quite dark, and iron bars were all round it, to prevent his getting out. " Dick beat his head against the iron bars ; he dashed backwards and forwards in his dungeon, for he was almost driven mad. The giant gave him a piece of dry bread and a drop of water, and left him. "The next day the giant came and looked, and found that Dick had eaten none of his bread ; so he took him by the head, and crammed some of it down his throat, and seemed quite vexed to think he would not eat. Poor Dick wag too much frightened to eat or drink. " He was left all alone in the dark another day, and a sad day it was ; the poor creature thought of his own home, his companions, the sun-light, the trees, and the many nice things he used to get to eat ; and then he screamed, and tried to get between the iron bars, and beat his poor head and limbs sore, in trying to get out. " The giant came again, and wanted Dick to sing, the same as he sung when he was at home, and to be happy and merry. ' Sing, sing, sing ! ' said he ; but poor Dick was much too sad to sing a prison is no place to sing songs in. 54 THE HOLIDAY LOOK. " The giant now seemed quite in a rage, and toolc Dick out to make lain sing, as he said. Dick gave a loud scream, a plunge, a struggle, and sank dead in the giant's hand. " Ah ! my } r oung reader, poor Dick was a little bird, and that giant was a cruel little boy." HISTORY, GEOGRAPHY, & CHRONOLOGY. C H A P T E E I. INTEODUCTIOX. I OU have often heard the words History, Geo- graphy, and Chronology. I am now going to tell you something about these subjects, for they are very important to us ; but before I go any further, I must tell you what History, Geography, and Chronology are. History is a record of the events that have happened from the creation of the world to the present time. History cannot be understood without Chronology, which tells us the time at which such events hap- pened : so History and Chronology go together. Geography means a description of the earth, and includes an account of the products of various places, their situation, extent, and boundaries. That part of it which tells you of the places at which certain events happened, is called Historical Geography. It is this kind of Geography which I shall at first speak to you about. At the present time there are many hundred coun- tries in the world, and as many of men and womeiv few of them speaking the same languages, and many of them of quite different complexions : some are fair, some brown, some reddish, some olive colour, some tawny, some black. They have also different modes of dressing, different manners, different customs, different religions ; a great proportion are little better than savages ; very 53 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. few are Christians ; aud a large number are only half civilized. "When you look about you, you see in this country fine houses, fine coaches, ships, steam-boats, railroads, nicely paved streets, excellent roads, various trades, and all sorts of commodities ; fine clothes to weary and plenty of the best food to eat ; but it has not always been thus, nor is it so now in all countries. I shall, therefore, endeavour to tell you how it is that things are as we see them at present. I shall begin with the beginning, and tell you of the great nations that have existed, such as the Babylonians, Assyrians, Medes, Persians, Macedonians, Greeks-, and Romans; of their kings, of the battles they have fought, and of the deeds of celebrated persons ; and give you an account of the manners, customs, religion, and Avay of living of these nations. Then I shall tell you of the places at which these various occurrences happened, and of the time at which they took place. Thus I shall teach you History, Geography, and Chronology, all together. CHAPTER II. TIME. BEFOEE I go any further, I must say a few words to you concerning time, and the methods taken to mea- sure it, else you cannot understand what CHEONOLOGY moans. It is said in the Bible, that God set lights in TIME. 5T firmament, that they might be for signs, and for seasons, for days and weeks, and months and years. Accordingly, we find the earliest nations measuring their time by the changes and revolutions of the heavenly bodies, particularly the moon. It Avas almost self-evident that the sun rose in . particular part of the heavens, and set in another;, and that while he was visible we had light, and that when he wa,s invisible we had darkness ; hence arose- the first simple division of time into day and night. Very slight observation would soon teach that the moon was, at one period, like a small bright circle in the heavens ; at another she filled up a half circle ;. and at another she was perfectly round ; again she was seen to decrease, and at last was invisible. These changes were soon found to take place during a certain number of days, and these gave at once the- idea of dividing the time the moon took to go through these changes into certain portions, called weeks, the whole time being a month. After this it was, doubtless, soon found, by further observation, that the sun, although he rose every day, did not always rise in exactly the same place ; that, as he vai-ied his rising, it was sometimes warmer, sometimes colder; that his continuance above the earth was also longer at one time than another ; that when he was in one situation, certain plants sprang up ; when in another, they blossomed ; when in. another, they cast their seed ; when in another, they lost their verdure. After a certain time it was discovered that these changes occurred over and over again, and thus a> -58 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. larger division of time was iu. vented. This was called a year. During this succession of changes it was observed, that the changes of the moon took place a certain number of times ; hence arose what were, in all pro- bability, the first description of years lunar years : that is, years measured by the changes of the moon. The lunar year Consists of three hundred and fifty- four days, and is in use among the Arabians, Turks, .and Saracens, at the present day. CHAPTER III. OF THE TEAR AXD ITS DIVISIONS. year, as measured by the various changes of the moon, was soon found to be very imperfect ; but it required a great deal of study, and much observation, for many centuries, to measure the year exactly, so as to make the year perfect. At last, however, the BABYLONIAN or EGYPTIAN astronomers, by making exact observations on the course of the sun, found that this luminary took a certain number of days in its journey through the heavens. It was found, also, that the sun passed through certain clusters of stars. As it was necessary, in speaking of the sun's place iit particular times, to say he was in this cluster on such a month, or that cluster at another time, the Egyptians invented what is called the zodiac ; that is, they made those clusters of stars, through which the sun appeared to pass, to consist of twelve, to each OF TIIE YEAR, A^D ITS DIVISIONS. 59 of winch they gave a name corresponding to the time of the year in which the sun should appear in them, and thus they formed a band or zone of the sun's apparent course. These were called the twelve signs of the zodiac. This zodiac in the heavens is an imaginary belt, about sixteen degrees broad, beyond the limits of which the sun appears not to deviate, and is, as I said, emblematical of the various phenomena of the year. It does not, however, quite correspond with our seasons, but rather with the climate of Egypt, where it was first used. The names of the signs are ARIES r the Ram, TAURUS the Bull, GEMINI n the Twins, CANCEB ss the CraJ), LEO Si the Lion, VIRGO w the Virgin, LIBRA ^ the Balance, SCORPIO m the Scorpion, SAGITTARIUS f the Archer, CAPRICORNUS vr the Goat, AQUARIUS sa the Water-bearer, and PISCES K the Fislies. The first six of these are the northern and summer signs, the other six the southern and winter signs. The first three signs, the ram, the bull, and the twins, which correspond to months March, April, and May, were expressive of the fecundity of that season ; while the crab denoted the sun's retrograde motion at midsummer. The lion was emblematical of the fierce heat which generally ensues after that period in July ; the virgin, with ears of corn, signified the harvest ; the balance showed the equality of the day and nights at autumn ; the scorpion, the venomous diseases at the fall of the leaf ; the archer denoted the hunting 60 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. season ; the goat, remarkable for climbing, expressed that the sun was again mounting the zodiac ; the water-bearer represented the setting in of the wet season in those parts of the world ; and pisces, th& fishes, was emblematical of the fishing season. You see, then, that the year is divided into twelve periods ; and these are arranged into four seasons, which depend upon the inclination of the axis of the earth, which is inclined towards the plane of the ecliptic, that is, the earth's orbit, twenty-three- degrees and a half. The ecliptic is the apparent course of the sun ; but is in reality, the earth's course among the stars, or those clusters of stars which form the zodiac. In consequence of this inclination of the earth's axis towards the plane of the ecliptic, twenty-three- and a half degrees, the sun's rays extend exactly twenty-three and a half degrees beyond the north pole, and makes our summer ; while, during our winter its rays fall twenty-three and a lialf degrees short of the north pole. SPRING begins on the 21st of March, called the spring equinox, at which time the night is equal to the day hi length, being twelve hours day and twelve night. SUMMER begins on the 21st of June, which is called the summer solstice. Solstice means a point in which the sun is supposed to stop, the days being then of nearly an equal length for a short time. ATJTUMK begins on the 21st of September, which is called the autumnal equinox. WINTER begins on the 21st of December, which is called the winter solstice. OP TEE TEAK A^D ITS DIVISIONS. 61 CHAPTER IV. Tnis division of time, which I have just been explain- ing to you, forms what is called the natural or solar year, which is now found to consist of three hundred and sixty-five days, five hours, forty-eight minutes, and fifty-four seconds. The year by which we calculate is, however, not quite so long as this, because we cannot take into the calculation the odd hours and minutes. We say that the year consists of three hundred and sixty-five days, made up in this manner, which forms the common or civil year : January ... 31 February... 28 March 31 April 30 May 31 June 30 July 31 August ... 31 September 30 October ...31 November 30 December 31 You know the old verse Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November ; February hath twenty-eight alone, All the rest have thirty-one, Except in leap-year, thoii's the time When February's days are twenty-nine. Now it is plain, that as this year is shorter than the true or solar year, by five hours, forty-eight minutes, and fifty-four seconds, which is nearly six hours, it would lead to great confusion unless some- thing could be done with these odd hours and minutes. Accordingly, it was arranged that every fourth year should have one day added to it, because the six hours (or nearly so) would amount to a day in four years. This arrangement was made by JULIUS CJESAK, G2 I'ilE 1TOLIDAT BOOS. and hence the common year is often called the Julian year. The additional day he ordered to be added to the twenty-fourth of February, which was counted twice. The Latin word for twice is bis, hence we have the word bis-sextile. "We add the six odd hours every fourth year, called leap-year, to the month of February, which has then twenty-nine days. At the time this arrangement was made by Czesar, by the aid of Sosigenes, a famous mathematician called over from Egypt for this especial purpose, it was found that sixty-seven days had been lost through the bad calculations of the Pontifices. It was, therefore, necessary to fix the beginning of the year at the winter solstice. That year was then made to consist of four hundred and forty-five days, and was called annus confusionis, the year of confusion. This mode of calculating time was a great improve- ment of the ancient calendar ; but it \vas not perfect, as it made the year eleven minutes too long. This error amounts to a whole day in one hundred and thirty years ; till at last, in the year 1582, as many as ten days were gained. Pope Gregory the Thirteenth undertook to reform this error, and ordered, that after the 4th of October, ten days should be omitted; so that the day which, followed the 4th, in place of being called the 5th, was called the loth, and thus the Julian year was corrected. To prevent such variation from happening at any future time, he also ordered, that after the year 1GOO, every hundredth year, which should have been leap- year according to the Julian reckoning, should be a HISTORY. G3 common year for three successive centuries ; but that every fourth century should remain a leap-year. Thus the years 1700, 1800, 1900, and all the years up to the year 2000, will have an equal number of days, but the year 2000 is to have an additional day ; after which time we shall go on again after the same manner. This arrangement of time is called the Gregorian calendar, and was adopted first in Eoman Catholic countries. In the year 1752 it was also adopted ia England, by means of an act of parliament, which declared that the 3rd of September should be called the 14th. At the same time the 1st of January was made the first day of the year, which had before been said to begin on the 25th of March. The former mode of dividing the year is called the old style (O.S.), and the present the new style (N.S.). The people of Bussia and some other countries still follow the old style. I think, after this explanation, you will be able to understand not only the divisions of time, but some- thing of Chronology, which has been called one of the eyes of History. CHAPTEE V. HISTOBY. HISTORY is of two kinds sacred and profane. The former is to be best studied from the sacred writings ; the latter is derived from the records of nations, and of certain writers, called historians. History traces the progress of man from the savage <54 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. state, through the intermediate degrees of civilization, to the nearest approach to perfection of which social institutions are capable. It notes the effects of laws and political regulations, and records the wondrous revolutions which have been produced in states by wars, intrigues, and the bad passions of wicked men, or the heroic exertions of good ones. To study History with advantage, we should direct our attention to certain points : We should not merely consider the actions of indi- viduals forming a court or a camp, but rather those circumstances which stamp the character, and mark the destinies of a nation. "We should enquire what have been the prevailing vices of the times described, or the more prominent .and characteristic virtues. What has been the state of trade and commerce ; and what the excellencies and defects of civil or muni- cipal institutions. "We should trace the ameliorating influence of ecclesiastical institutions, with the advance of learn- ing, the progress of constitutional freedom, and the changes of the national morality. \Ve should trace the introduction of the arts, sciences, and manufactures ; and observe the changes "that have taken place in manners and the laws. History is not only the history of a state or a 'king- dom, but of the people. ANCIENT HISTOET. ANCIENT HISTOET is usually divided into periods, for the sake of reference, and these periods are generally marked by some striking event. These periods, both of sacred and profane history, readily seen in the following table. GENEBAL VIEW OF ANCIENT HISTOET. SACKED. B.C. B.C. PBOFAWK. PERIOD I. Creation .... 4004 Obscurity. PJSBIOD II. Flood 234R Flood. PERIOD III. Call of Abraham . . 1921 Fable. PERIOD IV. Exodus and Law . . 1491 PERIOD V. Hebrew Monarchy begun .... 1095 PERIOD I. Eise of Chaldean Power. PERIOD VI. Hebrew Monarchy dissolved . . . 605 7oO PERIOD II. Persian Empire. PERIOD VII. Ecturn from Cap- tivity 606 PERIOD III. Macedonian Empire. Birth of Christ . . Modern History commences. 331 31 PERIOD IV. Roman Empire. Modern History commences. GG Nimrod t'j.e 3Tghtf Hunter. HISTOET OF THE ASSYEIANS AND BABYLONIANS. CHAPTEE I. OF THE EARLY NATIONS OF ANTIQUITY. OF BABYLON AND NINEVEH. THE HANGING GABDENS. TOWEE OF BELTJS. whatever is known of the world before the flood, except from the sacred writings ; and very little indeed is known of the times immediately after that awful catastrophe. Mankind, however, increased greatly on the earth. The descendants of Shem are supposed to have in- habited that part of the earth between the Tigris and Euphrates. The descendants of Ham are thought to have peopled Africa ; while those of Japheth proceeded westward, and laid the foundations of the present OF THE ASSYRIANS AND BABYLONIANS. G7 European nations. Probably Japheth was the Jupiter of the Greeks. The people who settled near the river Euphrates were probably governed by Ashur, the grandson of Noah, who was their progenitor. So far as ancient records can be relied upon, about 2229 years before Christ, he built the city of Nineveh, and founded the Assyrian or Ashurian empire. This city is said to have been very extensive. It is stated to have been a hundred miles in circumference, its walls a hundred feet high. It had fifteen hundred towers, each two hundred feet to its top. In all probability Nimrod, the great-grandson of Noah, who was, perhaps, afterwards worshipped as a god, under the name of Belus, founded the kingdom of Babylon, and built the city of that name. The word Belus, or Baal, signifies Lord. Babylon was more famous than Nineveh. Its walls were three hundred and fifty feet high, and so thick, that eight chariots could run abreast on their top, their thickness being eighty-seven feet. The city was built in the form of a perfect square, each side of which was fifteen miles, making a circuit of sixty miles round. On the outside of these Avails was a large ditch, nearly as deep as the walls were high. On every side of this great square were twenty- five brazen gates, being one hundred altogether. Be- tween every two of these gates were three towers, and four very large ones at each corner of the city wall. From the twent-five ates on the four sides of the CS T1IE HOLIDAY BOOK. city were twenty-five streets, in straight lines, leading quite across it either way, so that the whole number of streets were fifty, crossing each other at right angles. The river Euphrates ran through the centre of the city from the north to the south side, and on each side of the river was a quay. The wall was carried along the bank of the river, and had gates of brass to connect it with the city. There was also a bridge in the centre, connecting one side of the river with the other. This was a furlong broad, and thirty feet wide. At the two ends of the bridge were two palaces, which had a communication with each other by a vault tinder the bed of the river, similar to our Thames tunnel. The old palace, which stood on the east side- of the city, was thirty furlongs in compass ; near which stood the temple of Belus, of which I shall tell you presently. The new palace, which stood on the west of the river, was seven miles in circumference, and was surrounded with three walls, one within the other. In this new palace were the celebrated hanging gardens. They were gardens formed upon terraces rising one above another, as high as the walls of the city. They were sustained upon arches, raised upon other arches. The mould laid upon these arches was deep enough for the largest trees to take root in it. The whole of these garden terraces were watered by an engine, which drew the water from the river. In the spaces between the arches were various apartments, which commanded a beautiful prospect. HISTORY OF THE ASSYRIANS AXD BABYLONIANS. 6> Another of the great works at Babylon was the temple of Belus, which stood, as I said, near the old palace. It was remarkable for a prodigious tower erected in the centre of it. It was square at the bottom, and was about half a mile round. It con- sisted of eight towers, built one above another, and is thought to have been nearly a quarter of a mile high. On the top of it was a golden or brazen image of Bel us, the height of which was forty feet. In the different stories of the towers were many large rooms ; and the ascent to the top was by a spiral line or staircase, eight times round. The top tower was devoted to the purposes of astronomy, and contained an observatory. The sciences of astronomy and astrology were favorite studies among the priests of the temple of Baal, and they made great progress in the former. CHAPTER II. OF QUEEN SEHIRAMIS AND HER WAES. THE BATTLE WITH THE KIN 3 OF INDIA. You will wonder what could have been the use of such a prodigiously large tower. It was, in fact, a magnificent temple, designed for the worship of the god Belus, or Baal, and other inferior "deities ; and there were a number of chapels in different parts of the tower. The temple was also exceedingly rich in statues, tables, censers, cups, and other sacred vessels of great value. The whole wealth of these has been estimated at twelve million pounds of our money. The city and temple of Babylon, which I have beem 70 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. describing to you, were first begun, as I hinted, by Nimrod, the "mighty hunter before the Lord," of which the Bible speaks. But various other persons contributed to its grandeur; the most celebrated of whom was a woman named Semiramis, the wife of Ninus, king of Assyria, who, when her husband died, became the sole ruler of the empire. She was a very ambitious woman, and did not care who suffered, so long as she could make herself great ; and so she determined to conquer as much of the then, known world as she could. She was also a very courageous woman ; and, one night, word being brought to her of a tumult having taken place in the city, she immediately mounted on horseback in her undress, and did not return till she had restored all the refractory to obedience. You see it is of no use for people to be ambitious, without they are very courageous, and ready to hazard their lives at all times. Soon after this she set off with a powerful army, and conquered a great part of Ethiopia. Here she visited the temple of Jupiter Ammon, and inquired of the oracle how long she had to live. You see, although she wished to subdue so much, she knew death must subdue her, and so she could not have been very happy : without, indeed, she had a hope of a future life, and a good conscience, which few great conquerors have. Her greatest and last expedition was against India ; and for the conquest of this country she raised an im- mense army from every part of her empire, and ap- pointed Bactria for the rendezvous. The India I Queen Semiramis receiving Presents and Homage from her Subjects. niSTOET OP THE ASSYEIANS AND BABYLONIANS. 71 speak of is that portion of the world now called Hindoostan, which lies to the south-east of As- syria. When the King of India had notice of her ap- proach, he immediately despatched ambassadors to inquire what right she had to molest him, who was living peaceahly in his own dominions, and who had never troubled himself about her. She is said to have replied, that when she came over to him he should know what right she had ; meaning, that she would make her might her right, as all unprincipled people do. If you look sharply among your school-fellows, you will perhaps find some, like Queen Semiramis, who want to do as they like. It is our duty to oppose wrong doing whenever we see it, whether offered to ourselves or others. The principal reliance of Semiramis was upon the great numbers of her army, and the chief thing she feared were the elephants of the Indian king, which, of course, were at that time of day very formidable in battle. To make herself equal in this point, and to inspire the Indians with terror, she ordered a large number of camels to be disguised like elephants, in hopes of deceiving her enemy ; and, at a distance, they looked very well. She had now to pass the river Indus. A number of boats were prepared, and a part of the army entered them. On the other side of the river the Indians pre- pared to oppose her, and entered their boats. Thus a fierce conflict began on the water between the two parties. Semiramis had, however, the advantage ; and after sinking a thousand of their boats, put them to 72 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. flight. She also took above one hundred thousand prisoners. Encouraged by this success, she marched the whole of her army quite into the heart of the country, leaving sixty thousand men behind, to guard a bridge of boats which she had now built over the river, that she might get back again, should she be forced to run away. It is easy to get yourself into a difficulty, but not so easy to get out of it. Eecollect this, my young friends always secure your retreat. The Indian king, however, was quite as cunning as Queen Seniiramis : he wished to draw her into the heart of his kingdom, and, no doubt, suffered himself to be beaten. He fled ; she followed, with the sham elephants in her train. "When the king thought she had got far enough for his purpose, he turned his army round and faced her ; and a second engagement ensued, far more bloody than the first. Then it was the queen had to discover the difference between a real elephant and a counterfeit, for the sham elephants could not withstand the shock of the true ones. These routed her army, tossing the soldiers about with their high trunks, goring them with their tusks, and trampling them to death beneath their feet by hundreds. The queen, finding the day against her, was nearly mad with rage, and rushed into the fight, as if she did not care whether she lived or died. The king advanced towards her, and wounded her in two places; and would either have slain or taken her prisoner, but the swiftness of her horse saved her. She, with all of her army that had not been taken. HISTORY OF THE ASSYRIANS AND BABYLONIANS. 73 prisoners or slain, immediately rushed towards the bridge, to repass the river ; but, through the disorder and confusion, many of her soldiers perished. "When she and a great part of her army got safely over, she destroyed the bridge, and left a great number behind to be slain by the Indians. She did not care for them, you see, although they had devoted themselves to her .service. The Indian king would not pursue her any further; he thought, perhaps, he might not get back again to his own dominions. It would, however, have been quite right had he followed her up to the very gates of Babylon ; which she reached in a very sad condition, quite crest fallen, and covered with confusion. Babylon was no longer a place of enjoyment for her, and her wicked design of doing evil to a peaceable person, met with its reward. During her absence, her own son was plotting against her ; and, upon her return, she was obliged to abdicate her throne, and withdrew herself to the temple, where she lived several years, dying at the age of sixty-two. After her death, divine honours were paid to her : I cannot tell what for. I am sure she had not learned to "do to others as she would that others should do unto her," CHAPTER III. OF THE OTHER EING3 OF THE ASSYRIANS. rilC DEATH 03 SABDAXAPALUS. AFTER Ninus came to the throne, he did not imitate his mother by interfering with other nations. I sup- pose he profited by the lesson he had received in tho 74 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. ill success of the Indian expedition : so he determined to amuse himself in another manner by living luxu- riously, and engaging in every species of debauchery. At last he became so hated by the people, that he shut himself up in his palace, and surrounded himself with his guards. I should think, as he had treated his mother so ill, he never could have a happy moment. How he died history does not inform us. After the reign of Ninus there was an interval of eight hundred years. It is said that there was a succession of thirty princes, who were equally indolent and depraved with Ninus. I think the probability is, that the greater number of them were quiet, peaceable men. The good they did is not so likely to be recorded as the evil. Had they been great tyrants, murderers, or conquerors, they would have left records enough behind them. The next king of whom we have any records is Pul. He appears, from the Scriptures, to have conquered the Israelites, whom he forced to pay him tribute. He is thought to be the father of Sardanapalus, the last king of the Assyrians, called, acording to the custom of the eastern nations, Sardan Pul; that is to say, Sardan, the son of Pul. Sardanapalus surpassed his predecessors in effe- minacy, luxury, and cowardice. He seldom went out of his palace, scarcely attended to public business, but spent all his time among his women and slaves. He- placed his chief glory in feasting and rioting. It is said that he was so effeminate, that he even dressed like a woman, and painted his face, that he might look more beautiful. HISTORY OF THE ASSYRIANS AND BABYLONIANS. 75 Arbaces, governor of Media, having heard of the weakness of Sardanapalus, found means to get into the royal palace, and utterly despising such a character, determined to dethrone him, as he did not consider him worthy to rule a great nation. He immediately formed a conspiracy against him. Belesis, governor of Babylon, and several others, entered into it. "When the king received intelligence of what was going on, he hid himself in the innermost recesses of his palace ; at last, however, he was dragged forth, and obliged to take the field against his enemies, with some forces which had been assembled; but was in the first skirmish defeated ; he then fled to the city of Nineveh, where he shut himself up. Nineveh, the strongest city of the empire, was well fortified, and stored with provisions for a considerable time. It had also been declared by an ancient oracle that Nineveh could never betaken, unless the river became an enemy to the city. "Weak minds are com- monly superstitious, and the poor silly king thought it quite impossible that the river could rebel against him, and considered himself safe. But, at last, while the siege was going on, the Tigris, by a violent inundation, threw down two miles and a half of the city wall, and thus opened a passage to the enemy. Sardanapalus immediately thought himself lost, and gave himself up in despair. "Wishing, perhaps, to disappoint his enemies, he ordered a pile of wood to be raised in the palace, and setting fire to it, burnt himself, his eunuchs, his women, his palace, and his treasures. After his death a statuo was erected to him, which 70 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. represented him in the posture of a dancer ; with nn inscription upon it, in which he addressed himself to the spectators in these words, "Eat, drink, and be merry every thing else is nothing." Thus ended the first Assyrian empire, and on its ruins were formed three considerable kingdoms. That of the Medes, which Arbaces restored to liberty; that of the Assyrians of 'Babylon , which was given to Belesis, governor of that city ; and that of the Assyrians of Kineveh, the first king of which took the .name of Nrsus the Younger. CUEIST THE BKEAD OF LIFE. ' I am the living bread which came down from heaven." JOHN TU ON thcc, on thee, Our souls, O Lord, must feed, Support to frail humanity, Thou art our bread indeed. True bread from heaven, Sent to sustain and to revive, Abundantly and freely given, That we may eat and live. Oh, day by day Without thee, we should waste and sink In atrophy and slow decay, And to a shadow shrink. But living still On thee, our substance, we are made More strong, and feel thy power our will, And cannot waste or fade. Whene'er we make Thee the sole motive of our deed, And love our haters for thy sake, 'Tis then on thee we feed! And when we feel Temptation into triumph turned, Oh, is not then, through woe or weal, The bread of life discerned ? 78 THE nOLTDAT BOOK. And when the sigh Exhausts us, and we kneel in prayer, And feel a heavenly solace nigh, Our bread is surely there ! "When in stern pain We linger through some fever's heat, And, full of love, will not complain, That bread in love we eat ! Thus, feeding on Our Lord, our Life, how sweet to lire; How s \veet to know when life is gone That death new life can give. How sweet to feel That Bread of Life which still prevail, And an eternity reveal, Where life can never fail! That in the Heaven Of Heavens, and by the Godhead's throne, That bread will be to angels given, Their life and strength alone. Oh LORD that name Means a Bread Giver shed, oh shed Thy love on us, on earth the same, Bo thou our DAILY BEZAD. BOY A2s T D BIRD. " LITTLE bird, upon that tree, Sing, I pray, a song to me ; Are you happy all day long, Tell me, tell me, in your song?" " I am happy, little boy, To be free is all my joy ; In the shade, or in the sun, I am still a happy one. " In the gay and merry spring, I am free to play and sing ; In the summer, free to fly Where I will, beneath the sky." y squares. Several Roman floors have been dug up in various places, and there is a very fine specimen of one in the Pantheon, Oxford- street, and in the Polytechnic Institution is a portrait of George IV., said to contain more than a million of separate pieces. In the Crystal Palace, also, are to be seen many fine specimens of mosaic. The first specimen of Roman mosaic work which has been discovered, was found at Pompeii. You know Pompeii and Herculaneum were two cities, destroyed, or rather buried, under an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, nearly two thousand year ago. About fifty years since, in digging upon the place where the City of Pompeii stood, some of the houses were discovered; upon digging farther a great por- tion of the city appeared, with every thing just as it was when the awful catastrophe took place. The skeletons of the people in their various depart- ments were found : the baker behind his counter and the money in his till, with a profusion of household THE JUVENILE LECTUHER. 99 furniture, vases, statues, and so forth. But the most valuable of the discoveries were the mosaic pavements of the houses of the wealthy. The floors of most of the principal rooms were paved with mosaic, composed of minute pieces of stone and marble in their natural colours, represent- ing in one place, a rich festoon of fruit, of flowers, and of scenic works ; in another were represented the sea-shore, with fish and shells ; again, ducks and birds were to be distinguished. A lion darting on his prey forms another subject. In one house, called the House of the Fawn, from a beautiful bronze statue of a fawn being found in it,, the floor of the dining-room was formed into a large and spirited picture, in mosaic, representing a battle between the Greeks and the Persians ; probably the battle of Platea, in Greece, or the great conflict between Alexander and Darius at Issus, in Asia ; this seems the most likely. It is a very beautiful repre- sentation. The Eastern chief is in his war chariot, drawn by four horses, his charioteers flogging his horses into speed; a young warrior, who might be Alexander, is in the act of hurling his spear; while a great number of inferior figures of soldiers, and the wounded, com- plete the picture. Mr. Digby Wyatt has reproduced a Pompeian house of great beauty at the Crystal Palace. You would now wish to know how mosaic work is produced, I dare say ; I mean this kind of mosaic work, such as is seen in the specimen before us. The materials used in composing these pictures are pieces of glass, of every shade and colour. The glass is first cast into thin cakes, which are afterwards cut into ii 2 100 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. long pieces ; these are again reduced to various sizes, according as the work intended to be performed is large or small. They are then sorted into a great variety of shades, and laid before the artist, in a case divided into a number of compartments. A paste is now prepared from calcined marble, fine sand, gum, and the white of eggs, and is spread as a ground to receive the minute portions of glass, which are laid on with such skill as faithfully to represent the object. Here is another specimen it is a Roman cameo. You will see that it consists of a white opaque figure, raised on a dark ground. This is produced by mould- ing the white mass for the figures over the other, and connecting them by means of heat. The ancients had a method of producing articles of this description of a finer kind than the moderns. They could imbed in glass, so that the picture would be perfect on either side the likeness of a bird or other animal. Many of such gems are to be seen in the British Museum ; but the art of producing them seems to be only partially known in the present day. The most celebrated specimen of cameo workman- ship is an ancient glass vase, called the Portland vase. The original was found, about three hundred years ago, enclosed in a marble sarcophagus, which was de- posited in the tomb of the Roman Emperor Alexander Severus. The body of this vase is made of a dark blue glass. The figures are beautifully cut in a white opaque glass. These figures are supposed to represent Mortal Life ,-md Immortality. The torch representing life is re- THE JUVENILE LECTURER. 101 versed, and thereby extinguished. On the other side of the vase is the supposed spirit entering the regions of Pluto, the dispenser of rewards and punishments, called Elysium by the Greeks. He is received by Immortality and Divine Love, represented by a flying child, which seems to welcome him. This vase is considered a perfect gem of ancient art, and was purchased of its Italian possessor by the Duke of Portland, and is usually in this country called the Portland Vase. It is now to be seen in the British Museum. A few years since it was mali- ciously broken by a drunken man ; but it has since been repaired so neatly that scarcely a crack can be seen in its surface. Some excellent imitations of this vase have been produced by Mr. Apsley Pellatt, the glass-maker of Blackfriars. LECTURE V. ARTIFICIAL PEAELS, LOOKING-GLASSES, ETC. AVING given you a description of most of the processes u->anect6u with the manufacture of glass, I cannot resist telling you bivv artificial pearls are made. You know that the real pearl is an excrescence found in the shell of a coarse oyster called the pearl oyster, and is said to be a disease of the fish. In Ceylon, and other places, there are pearl fisheries, in which divers go down to the bottom of the sea, where they remain for a considerable time, and bring up 102 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. \vitli them the oysters out of which the pearls are taken. Mother-of-pearl is the surface of the shell of another species of oyster, existing in the same seas. But pearls are very costly, both on account of their rarity and the difficulty of procuring them ; and, therefore, various means have been tried of imitating them, \vith what success you may yourself judge. (Here are the real pearls, and here are the imitation ones.) In the sixteenth century glass beads were con- structed at Venice, and coated with a kind of pearl- coloured varnish ; but the imitation was not very good, an I they were superseded by little balls of wax, covered with pearl, like enamel; but this enamel Avould not resist moisture, and the wax could not bear the heat, and so the pearl soon vanished. Twice or thrice in these lectures have I told you how great discoveries were accidentally made. You must not, however, suppose that it was the accident which was the sole cause of the discovery. Xo, indeed ; it was the active mind of the discoverer, who took notice of n-ltat lie saic, and who reflected on it, and thereby turned it to necount. And you must bear in mind that a great deal is yet i ; be discovered ; and those who stand the best chance of making discoveries, are those who are engaged in trade, science, art, and the various manu- facturing processes. " Work with your eyes open" is a good maxim ; " work with your thoughts about you" is a better. re was a poor bead-maker in Burgundy, called Jaquin. who happening to look into a vessel in which THE JUTENILE LECTUBEB. 103 Lad been kept some small fish (called, in Latin, the cy- prinus alburnus, or, in English, the blay, or bleak fish), he perceived at the bottom of the vessel a pearl-like powder, which had evidently come from the scales of the fish. The thought struck the man that this pearl- like powder might be employed in the manufacture of artificial pearls. So he went to work and scraped the fish. He then washed the scrapings, consisting principally of scales. He then set by the water, in which the scales had been washed, and a sediment fell to the bottom. He poured off' the water from the sediment, and the latter appeared as a thick creamy liquid, having that delicate silvery appearance which distinguishes pearls. Thinking the manufacture of artificial pearls would be a source of profit to himself, he made some small balls of plaster of Paris, and coated them with this new substance, mixed with isinglass. The close resemblance to pearls was immediately acknowledged ; but the heat of the fire, and the mois- ture from the human body, was found to injure the surface of the beads. To remedy this defect, Jaquin made some hollow beads of glass, and coated them with his pearl mixture on the inside ; and thus, at last, was produced a very good artificial pearl, and Jaquin made a fortune out of a few fish scales. The beads for the pearls are made in this way: a very fine and narrow tube of glass is 'taken ; one end is placed in the flame of a lamp, and the operator blows through it from the other end ; when the end of the tube is melted, it takes the shape of a little globe, or globule. The blower breaks it off, and then proceeds 104! THE HOLIDAY BOOK. with another, with such remarkable rapidity, that sometimes six thousand are produced in one day. The pearl essence is then heated, and a single drop is taken on the end of a small tube, and inserted into its hole. It is then shaken, either by the hand or in a machine, until the interior surface is coated with the pearl mixture. It is then left to dry. The cavity of the bead is then filled with wax, which answers two purposes, namely, to strengthen the bead, and to make its weight more near that of the real pearl. To show to what a great nicety these pearls resemble the real ones, a set of sharpers, a few years ago, made great numbers of them into various trinkets, and sold them to the jewellers in London ; and there were few who did not suffer from this wicked imposition. The trick was, however, discovered, and two of the cheats were punished. I told you that plate glass was made use of for look- ing-glasses ; and I will now tell you how looking-glasses are made. Here is a small bottle of quicksilver : you see that while in the bottle it increases in the glass its powers of reflection. Quicksilver, or mercury, is found in a fluid state in iron ore (here is a piece of the ore with the quicksilver in a pure state, exuding through it) ; it is, however, found in several other forms, and in ruddy glebes, called cinnabar. Here is a piece of it in this state (shows T r'ece of cinnabar). Its use is great in medicine, ana in the arts, particularly for silvering looking-glasses. The silvering of plate glass consists in applying a layer of tin-foil, alloyed with mercury, to its under T1IE JUVENILE LECTURER. 105 surface. To do this properly, the silverer has a large smooth marble table, with a raised edge all round it. He first takes a sheet of tin-foil, and spreads it on the table. He then pours on it a small quantity of quick- silver, which be rubs or spreads with a roll of woollen stuff, so that the tin-foil is penetrated, and apparently dissolved by the mercury. He now pours on a large quantity of quicksilver, so that it rises up on the table the depth of a crown-piece. He then removes the oxide, or scum, with a linen rag, and next applies to it, for about an inch at one end, the edge of a sheet of paper, as in the act of skimming. The plate of glass is now pushed over the sheet of mercury, immediately after the paper, so that no air can interpose between the two. The plate of glass may be said now to float upon the mercury ; the table is then sloped, so that the loose mercury can run off, by a gutter or spout, into a pan prepared to receive it. At the end of five minutes the mirror is covered with a piece of flannel, and loaded with several weights, that it may press equally on all sides, and is left in a sloped position for twenty- four hours. After this the weights are taken oft', and it is taken from the marble table, and laid on another sloped one; and being gradually raised from the horizontal towards the vertical position day by day, the loose mercury is drained from it, the coating firmly adheres, and is, at last, fit for use. Such, my little friends, are a few of the facts that I have picked up concerning the substance glass, its manufacture, and uses. There is a great deal of other matter connected with the subject, as the power of lenses, and the manufacture of microscopes, telescopes, 106 TIIE HOLIDAY BOOS. and other scientific instruments. But these matters, with the power which glass has of refracting the rays of light, I think will more properly fall under the head of Optics ; which I shall speak of perhaps on some future occasion. Before I conclude this little lecture, I should like you to notice the uses of glass. The great service it is to us in windows, I need not point out. What we should do in this country without such a substance, to keep out the cold air in the winter, it is impossible to tell. But it has still more important uses ; by its service we can increase the powers of vision to an immense extent. TELESCOPES have revealed to us new worlds, and will show us millions upon millions of stars, which the naked eye could never discover ; and MICROSCOPES will make us acquainted with millions of living animals, even in a crust of bread, or a drop of water : and by means of lenses we are enabled to take sun portraits. But remember, that the useful- ness of this sand and sea- weed has been brought about by the labour and ingenuity of man ; some of it by the observation of children like yourselves. It was the children of a spectacle-maker of Holland, who, amus- ing themselves with two spectacle lenses, discovered that, by holding them up at a short distance from each other, the church steeple was both enlarged and brought nearer to their eyes. This gave the hint for the invention of the telescope, one of the most im- portant of all human inventions. From this you will infer that even you, by walking and working, or even playing, with your eyes open, may, perhaps, stumble upon something of equal im- portance to mankind. 107 THE LAMB. H ! sweet is the life of a dear little Jamb, When skipping in love by the side of its dam ; O'er the grass it will gambol, and frisk all the noon. In the sweet buds of May or the blossoms of June; And how it rejoices, and how it will run To and fro on a bank, in the warmth of the sun ; It knows not a sorrow, it feels not a care, On valley or heath, while its mother is there. She calls it unto her when straying afar, And welcomes it back with a trot and a baa : Oh ! it runs to her fondly, and clings to her side, And when the dog barks in her bosom would hide : And there it is cossetted daily and fed, Secure, night and day, from all danger and dread. Oh ! sweet is the life of a dear little lamb, When skipping in love by the side of its dam ! And sweet is the life of an infant, when bless' d ."By the love and the warmth of a dear mother's breast ; And happy the child that can look in her face, In smiles day by day, and enjoy her embrace ; That, like a young lamb, to her bosom can fly, When evil would threaten and danger is by. Oh ! mother oh ! mother, I am your little dear, And feel myself happy when you are but near : May I, like a lamb, be all gentle and mild, With an innocent breast and a heart undefiled ; Look up to you ever by night and by day, Hear all your good counsel, and mind what you say ; And do all your bidding, and come at your call, And bear your reproof, which is better than all ; Still be gentle and meek as a dear little lamb, Whose life is so sweet by the side of its dam ! 1CS THE BOY AND THE BUTTERFLY. ONE bright summer morning, all sunny and gay, Little John took his hat, and then went out to play ; He roved o'er the meadows, now laughed, and now sung, Till the woods and the hills with his melody rung : The birds seemed to answer his songs from each tree, Oh ! how happy, how merry, how joyful was he 1 A butterfly passed him a beautiful thing, It had purple and gold on each gossamer whig ; It shone in the sun, as it journey'd along, More bright than the flowers that it flutter'd among ? The boy was delighted, and longed to pursue, So he pulled off his hat, and then after it flew. The butterfly, still, fluttered on through the vale, The little boy followed, now panting and pale ; And often he tried, with a furious blow, To smite the poor innocent butterfly low : His efforts were vain, for the bisect flew on, Until all his vigour and patience were gone. The butterfly now seemed to flag and to tire, And stopped by a ditch full of nettles and mire ; When little John sprang, like a wolf on his prey, Falling plump in the mud, while his fly flew away ; And now by the nettles all blistered and stung, No longer that silly boy capered and sung. With clothes daubed with mud, and with hands black as ink, Poor little John now took a moment to think : In his tears then he said, " I have sure been to blame, To waste all this time at so foolish a game ; To run so, and toil so, and take so much care, To catch a poor insect, because it was fan-." Just thus will the world's giddy baubles tempt all, Just thus are then- votaries likely to fall ; When the boy grows a man, then will honour or fame t Or wealth, power, and gold, set his heart in a flame : But, let him beware, lest too eager to gain, He may lose what he longs for, and get shame and pain 109 THE ORPHAN BOY'S TALE. " AlAS ! little beggar, what makes you BO poor?" Said George to a vagrant who stood at the door ; " Oh ! why do you thus all in rags like to roam ? Say, who are your parents ? and where is your homo ?" " No parents I have, no friends, and no bread, No home and no shelter, no shoes and no bed ; I once had a father and mother like you A home, and a servant to wait on me, too." " Then why now so poor, little beggar, oh ! say ? Come tell me the cause of your poverty, pray ? " "Alas! little boy, 'tis a horrible tale, And many a cheek has it made wan and pale. " One night I awoke in a very great fright, And saw at my window a terrible light ; * Fire ! jftre !' was the cry, and the windows went smash, While rafters fell down with a horrible crash. " Now the flames burst around to the windows I ran, There were cries from the people, 'Jump out if you can!' I could not I durst not my courage was spent, So back to my bed quite despairing I went. " My mother, now screaming, ' My child ! oh, my child !* Hushed to me, half frantic, distracted, and wild ; She tore off the sheets from the bed, which she bound Together by knots, till they reached to the ground. " I was tied to their end, and I swung to and fro, Till I fell in the arms of the people below ; But, oh! my dear mother fell back in the fire, For the ;'loor tumbled in, and no one could get nigh her. 110 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. " My father, too, perished ! The next day I learnt, That both their poor bodies to cinders were burnt ; Oh! that was a sight I can never forget,. Still, in spite of my sorrow, it haunteth me yet. " Thus all was destroyed that my parents possessed, And I am an outcast, or beggar, at best ; Without friend or home, clothes or food, as you see, Then say, little boy, cannot you pity me ? " But hold, little boy, for 'tis Jam to blame, It was I that did set my sire's house in a flame j For on that very night I had many a trick, And many a game with a HOT LIGHTED STICK.'* THE SELFISH BOY. )HE selfish boy is one who loves himself, and nobody else; who does not care whom he deprives of enjoyment, so that he can obtain it. Should he have any thing given him, he will keep it all to himself. If he has a cake, he will keep it in his box and eat it alone ; some- times creeping up stairs in the day-time to munch when nobody sees him, and getting out of bed at night to cram himself in the dark. The selfish boy likes playthings, but he does not like any body to touch them. "You shall not bowl my hoop, you shall not touch my bat," is constantly on his tongue. He is ever on the watch, to find out if any one has been even near anything of his. He is restless, anxious, fearful; he knows it lies at the bot- tom of his heart to rob others, because all selfish boys are covetous, and he thinks that everybody will take from him. "When he sits down to his writing, if he happen to- make a good letter he holds his hand over it, so that no one may copy it. When he has worked his sum he hugs it up to his breast, for fear any one should be benefited by knowing how it was done. He obtains knowledge, perhaps fags hard for it, but he has no desire for communicating it to others. If he should see a fine sight at the window, he calls for no one to share his delight, but feels a pleasure in being able to say, "I saw it, and you did not." The selfish boy cannot see the good of anything, 112 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. without he is to be the gainer in some way or other When his interests are concerned, you will see him quite alive, although he was ever so sluggish just before. He sees in a moment what will make to his own advantage, and is, therefore, an adept at chopping and changing, and at making bargains. He knows well enough how to disparage (to speak against) his school-fellow's article. H it be a knife, he will pre- tend the spring is bad, and find out a hundred faults ; then, when he has made a good bargain, oh ! how he chuckles over it, and rubs his hands. The selfish boy is a great cheat; when he plays marbles he takes care, when an opportunity offers of kicking his alley nearer to the ring ; when he makes a false shot he will pretend that he was not in earnest, on purpose to get another ; when the game is going against him, he will pretend he has hurt his knee or his knuckle, and can't play any more. The selfish boy is a great braggart ; he often says, " I have this, and I have that. You do not know how much money I have in my saving-box." Some- times he hints that his father is rich, and he shall have a fortune left him when the old gentleman is dead ; and he does not seem to care how soon he does die. His whole life is a sort of scramble ; if any thing is to be given away, he is the first to cry out, for fear he should lose his share, and the first to grumble when ie obtains it. If another boy happen to receive a larger slice at dinner than himself, he pines over it, and can scarcely contain himself for vexation. He always looks out for the best of every thing, and thinks he has a right to it. THE SELFISH EOT. 113 Poor boy! he thinks the world was made for him. He never thinks of others. It is no pleasure for him to see others happy ; nay, he would sooner make his dearest friends miserable than deprive himself of any- thing. He will make no self-sacrifice, I can assure you. Nay, more than this, if he does not want a thing, he cannot bear that anybody else should enjoy it. This is the last stage oi his disease ; and thus he is like the dog in the manger, and snaps at every one who comes near him. What a pretty man he will make ! BOAT BUILDING-. CHAPTEE I. HOW 3IOTHEE3 MAT TEACH. A CHUB'S TEIA13. " DEAB MOTHEB," said little William, " do give me half-a-crown to buy a boat ; only half-a-crown. I can buy a good one for two-and-sixpence, sails and all ; for I saw one in the toy-shop yesterday." " Indeed, my son, I have no two-and-sixpences to spare for boats, I can assure you." " But I only vrant one two-and-sixpence, and one boat, mamma," said William. " I am quite aware of that ; but I cannot afford to give you two-and-sixpence to buy a boat with. That sum can bo spent to much greater advantage ; you know it will buy you many things that you want. Your gloves are none of the best ; and I shall buy you a pair of worsted ones to keep your little hands warm in the winter." BOAT BUILDING. 115 " But it is not winter yet," said the little boy. " It will be a long time before winter ; it is quite warm, now ; and George Playfair has got a boat, and Harry Thomson has one too ; but I have not got one, and cannot play with them at all." " But will they not let you see theirs swim ?" said liis mother. " Yes, but then they are not mine ; and when I see their boats sailing about I wish I had one too. And, do you know, I almost wished the other day if I had not one that they had not. I felt quite vexed to think that they should have such nice boats and I not." " Then do you know, my child, that you had a very evil feeling in your breast ? Shall I tell you what it was?" " If you please, mother." " But first you must tell me, whether it made you feel comfortable or uncomfortable ? " " Oh, I felt as if I could cry once or twice ; and then I had a good mind to give Playfair's boat a tilt over, only I was afraid he would give me a beat- ing. There was, however, a bigger boy than I, who got behind the hedge, and threw over a large brick-bat splash into the water, which very nearly upset it." " And how did you feel when you saw the brick-bat splash into the water and endanger the boat ?" " Oh ! I felt quite pleased ; I wished, however, it had gone quite upon it. I think I should have been more pleased at that." "And pray have you invited Master Playfair to i2 116 THE HOLIDAY LOOK. come to your birth-day party on Tuesday even- " No, mamma ; you told me only to invite whom I liked, and I did not ask him." "Why not?" " Oh, I do not like him half so much as I used to." " Why do you not like him ?" " He seems so proud of his boat, and all that ; am*. makes such a fuss about it, and makes her sail so- beautifully ; and talks so much about his foresail, and mainsail, and jib ; and I have not got a boat at all." Here little William began to cry. "Ay," said his mother; "you are very unhappy;. a very miserable, sad, wretched, little boy." "Yes; tha tha that I am," sobbed William, "ver y, ver ver very unhappy;" and here again he wept as if he would never leave off, till his eyes were quite red and sore with weeping ; and his little pocket handkerchief was as wet as if it had been in a tub of water. "Yes, you are very wretched indeed," said his- mamma. "Yes, very, very. Do give me the half-a-crowu r there's a dear mother, and let me buy a boat." " No, my child," said his mother ; " not one farthing must you have of me. It is not the want of hah-a- crown, or a boat, that makes you wretched, it is the wicked passions you have, and which you are not able to subdue ; and all the money in the world would not make you happy, but for a moment." " What wicked passions, mamma ? I am sure I do BOAT TSUILDINO. 117 not feel any wicked passions ; I only want a boat like Playfair's." " Listen to me, "William : you were not satisfied at .seeing Playfair's boat swim, but wished for one of your own. This was natural, and perhaps reasonable ; but when you wished, because you had not a boat, that others had them not, it was the bad passion, envy, that took hold of you, and immediately you were unhappy. Then you rejoiced at the brick-bat, when it splashed the water over Playfair's boat. This, my son, was a cruel passion, it was spite or malice. Had you been big enough you would have destroyed your playfellow's toy; but, being a coward, durst not attempt it. Then you would not invite the unoffend- ing child to your party, because your bosom was full of hatred. Now then, sir, look in the mirror I have prepared for you, and see yourself." " I did not know I was all that you say, mamma. I am sure I cannot be so bad as that. Will you kiss me, mamma?" " Yes, my dear ; but you are f"'J. ~ envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness. If I were to take a serpent to my bosom it might be less dangerous than you." " Oh, mamma, do not talk so ; I am sure I did not mean it ; I could not help feeling as you say. If you had seen his boat, how nice it looked, with all the flags and sails, and little brass cannon, and brass anchors, I am sure you would have wished me to have had one." " I have no doubt these evil passions came upon you suddenly, and when you did not expect them ; 118 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. but this is the reason they have such power ; and see how wretched they have made you. You have had no peace since you first began to envy your play- fellow. Tour little breast has been in a strange fer- ment. Did you say your prayers last night ?" " Ye no, mamma ; I could not think of them, be- cause I could not help thinking about the boat." " Do you wonder that you have been wretched ? You see that those evil passions have drawn you away from God." " But I do not want any boat now, mamma. I should like Playfair to come to my party on Tuesday." " I will consider of this," said his mainma. " That will depend upon circumstances. But remember that "William is too envious, malicious, and full of hatred^ to be fit to have a party at all I must leave you, my child, to answer this question to yourself." So saying, William's mother left the room, and the little boy was alo*ie. CHAPTEE II. DISINGENtrOtrSNESS. THE TIEST FALSEHOOD. T first "William began to cry at being left alone, particularly as his mamma seemed to be so angry with him. He sobbed and sobbed a good deal, and at last began to wish he had not told his mother what he felt with regard to Playfair's boat. " I am sure," said he to himself, "I don't want his boat ; he may have two boats if he likes. I only wish I had BOAT BUILDIXQ. 119 never seen his boat at all, and then I should not have been at this trouble." He was talking in this manner to himself for some time, sometimes crying and sometimes pobbing ; at last he went to the window of the room, which looked into the garden. The sun was shining so brightly, and the birds were singing, and all the flowers seemed quite full of smiles. Presently he saw a blackbird with a long stick in its mouth, hopping about close under the window, which, at last, made a spring from the ground, took to the wing, and darted off to a holly-bush at the bottom of the garden. "Ha!" said William; "he is off to built his nest in the same place he did last year ; and now I think of it, if a bird can build a nest, why can't I make u boat ? That would be capital. I should not want any money from mamma ; and then I could say to Playfair, 'Here is my boat, all made out of my own head.' " Well, now I do think of it, I think this would be better than buying one. But let me see ; where am I to get the wood, I should want a thick piece/~o cut it out from; and then masts and sails and canr-ru. Oh ! I could not make them, I must buy them ; and then the flags oh ! I could paint them on pieces of paper." The little boy had quite forgotten all his trouble at this notion of making his own boat, Avhich he was resolved to do, but yet he thought of what his mamma had said to him ; and when he thought of that, he felt as if he could not go on till he had made peace with her, for William was very iond of his mamma. 120 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. So he ran off to look for her, to say he was a good boy, and, after a little while, found her in the garden. " Mamma," said he, " I want to be good. Do kiss rae, and make me a good boy." " But," said his mamma, " I want you to do a favour for me, before I can tell whether you are good or not : I cannot forgive you, my dear, till I think you deserve to be forgiven." " Oh, I will do any thing you wish, mamma ! only do kiss me." His mamma, without saying a word, returned into the house, and went up stairs, William following her all the way ; at last she went into the lumber room. "What are you going to do, mamma?" said he. " Oh, I know, you are going to get me something to play with." His mamma took from her girdle her large bunch of keys ; and after turning over several boxes, at last found one made of mahogany. This she opened, and taking out a smaller box, tied round with string, gave it to William, with directions to take it down stairs. William ran down stairs joyfully enough. He sup- posed that the box contained something for him to play with, instead of a boat. He heard several things rattle within it, and called to his mamma, asking her if he might cut the string. "No," said his mamma; "you must untie the knot." William looked at the box, and he looked at the knot, and he tried and tried to unpick it with his fingers, but all to no purpose ; for one knot was tied in such a manner, that when he had undone one part, the other part seemed to be mom fixed. EOA.T BUILDING. 121 His mamma was a considerable time before she came down stairs, during which "William had been employed in undoing the knot. He tried it first one way, and then the other ; at last he endeavoured to slip the string over the corners of the box, but was unable to do even that. "Supposing I cut it," said he to himself; "I can easily say it broke itself, as I was trying to undo it." He listened for the footsteps of his mother on the stairs, but all was silent. He then looked round for a pen-knife or a pair of scissors, for he was quite impatient to know what was within the box. The pen-knife and the scissors were both in his mother's work-box, and that was locked. " How pro- voking," said he to himself. He then went back, and tried again to get the string over the corner of the box, but it was tied too tightly : he had quite bruised the ends of his little fingers in his endeavours to get the knot undone, and to remove the string; and began to be quite feverish with impatience. He looked round and round the room, thinking something might do instead of a knife to get it asunder. There were several shells on the mantel-shelf ; one of these seemed tolerably sharp. He thought he could cut through the string with the sharp part of this shell. " Ay," said he ; " I can easily say the string broke ; but that will be a story : ay, but then it wont do anybody any harm ; there is nothing in a lie if it does no one any hurt," said he to himself. The little boy sawed and sawed away with his shell, till he had got the string in two. "There it is," said he; "I have done it." He 122 TIIE HOLIDAY BOOK. tlien hurried the cord off; but, when he came to look further, found the box still fastened ; nor could he, by any kind of examination, discern the way to open it. " There," said he ; " and I have just cut the strir.^ for nothing. I wish I could put the string on again, for I think mamma will find it out." At this moment Mrs. Sinclair came down stairs, for that was her name, and looking at the box, said imme- diately, "Why have you cut the string, William, when I told you not to do so ? " ""Why, ma," said he, "it broke, as I was trying to get it undone." Mrs. Sinclair looked at her son with the deepest concern; the colour came into her face; she spoke not, but burst into tears. " Oh ! mamma, dear mamma, do nob cry. Why do you cry, mamma ? Xow let me wipe your eyes. "Why do you cry, dear mamma ? " "Oh! my dear child," said she, "you have hurt yourself seriously. What shall I do for my dear child?" and then she wrung her hands as in great consternaton. "No, dear mother," said the little boy, " I am not hurt at all ; my fingers are only a little sore with picking at the knot. I am not hurt. There is no- thing in the box to hurt me is there, mamma ?" " You have given yourself a wound," said his mother, "which will injure you for ever." "Where, mamma ?" said AVilliam, a little alarmed, looking at his hands, to see if he had cut or bruised them by the shell. BOAT BUILDING. 123 " It is of no use to look at your hands, my child. The wound is not there it is not in your body. I would rather that you had cut your finger to the bone, than have " " "What ? dear mamma ; do tell me." " Told a falsehood^ Poor little William dropped the shell which lie had still retained in his hand during this conversation. "Yes," continued his mother, " my son is a .' r And here she again burst into tears, for the word seemed to stick in her throat. " You have injured your immortal part, that part which can never die your soulV "William turned pale at the latter part of this con- versation, and felt quite sick at heart ; his ears were of a deep glowing red, and he could scarcely draw his breath. " Do you not feel the wound ?" said his mother. " I did not do it to harm anyone, mamma : indeed I did not. I heard one of my school-fellows say, ' a lie was nothing, if it did not hurt anyone.' " " Does it not hurt me? Has it not hurt yourself? Do you feel happy now ? Am I happy ? I cannot take your word again you have deceived me. You will not be believed, though you speak the truth. But what is more awful, the word of the living God, who sees and knows all things, has said : ' Lying lips are abomination to the Lord, And the deceitful tongue shall not tarry in my sight.' " " Oh ! dear mamma, you quite frighten me, you look so awful. What shall I do ? " 124 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. " Can you undo what you have done ? The time can never again be, in which you can say, I am a child of truth. You have deceived a mother who loves you dearer than her own life ; you have set God at defiance by a falsehood." " No, mamma, I did not mean that indeed I did not. I only said so, that you might not be angry with me." " Did you not know God was looking at you, that he heard you, and that he would be angry ? No ; you forgot that." "William stood, at last, abashed and silent, while his mother kept fixed upon him a stern but sorrowful frown. " Oh ! do not punish me, mamma : I will never do so again?" " Never ! Be careful, my child." " I hope I shall not. I am sorry indeed I am." *' Why are you sorry P 11 " Because you cry so, and are angry with me." " God in heaven, who both sees and knows our thoughts, is more grieved and angry than I can be. He has given you life, which I cannot give ; He has given you a soul, to improve and to devote to His service. You do not love Him for His goodness, and will not obey Him, although He wishes you to be happy. You should be sorry that you have rebelled against so good a God." " I do wish to be sorry, indeed, mamma I do try to feel sorry. I am sorry : I will not do so again." ft Kneel down then with me, and let us ask of God to forgive you for so great a sin." BOAT BUILDING. 125 Mrs. Sinclair and her child here knelt down, and the afflicted mother clasping her son's hands together, and bending over, put up a prayer to the Father of all mercies that He would be merciful unto her son, and forgive him his sin. When they arose from their knees, Mrs. Sinclair took the box, which had been the occasion of so much evil, and placed it on the top of her piano-forte. She- then gave her child a kiss, saying, " I have forgiven you, William, may Gk>d forgive you too." William was quite unfit for play during the whole of the afternoon. He thought several times, however, of the boat he had an intention of building, but as often, as he thought of it he thought of the lie he had told ; for he was uncertain whether it would not even be wrong to build a boat unknown to his mamma, and feared something might happen which might lead him to do wrong. When he went to bed, therefore, that night, in say- ing the Lord's Prayer, as he came to that part which says, " lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil," he really and sincerely wished that God would deliver him in all danger. Thinking of this, and worn out by the trial of the day, the poor little boy fell asleep. He, however, could not help dreaming of his boat. CHAPTEE III. MAGNANIMITY. " ^ * ILLIAM did not pass a very quiet night, and in the morning found himself to have a very bad headache. He however rose, said his prayers, and came down stairs to breakfast, and felt some- what better. After breakfast Mrs. Sinclair read the account of Ananias and Sapphira, who were struck dead for lying ; and poor William was quite frightened again, .and well he might. After breakfast William went to school, where he met Playfair, who came and sat by him. After they had been a little while together, Playfair drew a boat on his slate, and said, " Here she is ! the Royal Victoria ! the best ship in the world ! Charles Play- fair commander. There you see I am standing at the helm, and away she goes before the wind. There's her flag see how it spreads out that is something like a ship. Too, Toe, heave up the jib." Then, with a dash of his pencil, he put the jib to the bow- sprit, and made little marks for the reefs. Robert Grizzle peeped over Playfair's shoulder and said, " I never saw such a ship as that in my life. Why, you have got the wind blowing one way, and the ship going another." "Suppose I have; she will go against the wind. My ship will, I know, because I tried her in the pond the other day." " Less noise in that corner," called out the master. BOAT BUILDING. 127 boy, not waiting for an answer, " here is the captain, with his telescope ; and here are little red soldiers K 130 TEE HOLIDAY EOOK. these are marines, I suppose ; and shot too, I de- clare. And, oh ! goodness, look here. Oh ! you dear mother, I do love you so. Look here ! here is a little windlass and a compass a real compass, with a load- stone in it what a little dear !" " Yes, they will be a pretty present. "Will theynot ? " "Oh! yes, dear mother a beautiful present, I think. I would rather have them than any thing I ever saw," said the enraptured boy, as he arranged all his men, sailors, ropes, and anchors, on the table. " Ah !" said he again, with a voice of delight, " here is a little midshipman: here is another. Well, I never . I must have a boat now. I do not want any money. I think I can build a boat myself, if you will let me try." " Very well : I have no objection ; but as you have harboured a very ill feeling towards Master Playfair, and he has acted very nobly to you, it is my intention to make him some amends for it ; and, therefore, this afternoon, as you go to school, I shall write a note to his mamma." " Tes, do, do ; and ask him to come to-morrow, and see my sailors, and anchors, and all these pretty things." " No, no ; I shall send him this box, with all it con- tains. It will be just the thing for him, as he has got such a pretty ship." Poor William looked at his mother in perfect asto- nishment, and the tears came into his eyes; but checking himself, he said, " Ay, but you do not mean this, mamma ; you only say so ; you do not mean it, I know!" BOAT STTILDiya. 131 "Did you ever know me to tell a falsehood?" replied she; "so pack up the bos directly, while I go into the next room to write the note." CHAPTER IV. On, what a task for poor little "William. lie looked at the little men, anchors, and cannons, for some time without speaking one word. Then the tears caoie into his eyes so freely that he could not tell whether he was putting the things into the box or out of it ; his heart was so full, and seemed as if it would break ; and at last he could contain himself no longer, but burst into a loud cry, which rang through the house. He then laid his head down on the table, and wept again and again. Presently his mamma re-entered the room, with the note for Mrs. Playfair. "What! sobbing crying; why is this, William? You told me you loved Playfair, and that by speaking the truth to his master this morning he had saved you from a flogging, taking all the blame on himself?" " So I do love Playfair, mamma ; but I thought these were for me. I do love him very well, but " " You love yourself better," said his mamma. " No," said the little boy ; " I do not love myself at all, I am so unhappy. But I should like to have these playthings." "Are you indeed unhappy very miserable very wretched?" " Oh, yes, mamma ; very, very indeed : I never was K2 132 THE HOIT^AT rooir. so unhappy before in all my life," and here the little boy wept again. " And, now, shall I tell you what makes you un- happy, so very wretched ? It is, my dear, because you are selfish." " Because I sell fish, mamma, ! I do not understand that at all." His mamma smiled at this. " Tou quite mistake me," said she ; " to be selfish is to love your own little self so much as to care for nobody else and then, as you see, when a little boy cares so much for his own amusement and gratification, and nothing for the pleasure of other people, should anything take what he enjoys so much away from him, he cannot bear it, loses his temper, and makes himself very miserable." " I am not angry. I am only very sorry, mamma," sobbed he. " Then you have lost your calmness of temper. If you had felt as much pleasure in giving another plea- sure, as you acknowledged you did when the brick-bat went into the water, you would have been now as happy in giving Playfair these toys as in possessing thfiu yourself; but you have a wicked heart, and it will show itself." "William could not help handling the toys during these observations of his mamma. He first took up the anchors, then the officers, and with the little com- pass above all things was he delighted. " Oh, mamma," said he, " this is the prettiest of all." " Yes, and the most useful set it down on the table and watch it attentively." BOAT ITCrLDIXG. 133 William did as lie was bidden, and noticed that when the compass was at rest, the needle pointed exactly one way. " Look at me," said his mamma. She then turned the compass round in a second or two the needle stopped in the same direction. She then turned it the other way, but the needle still pointed north and south. " Try what you can do," said she. " Turn it round and round every way, and see if you can get the needle to point in any other direction ;" she then rose, and went and stood at the window. "William looked at the little compass ; he shook it, then he placed it on the table ; first he turned it one way, then another, but still it would point but in the same direction. He thgn examined it attentively, yet could not discover what was the cause ol this wonder- ful property ; at last, he got quite out of patience with it, and said, " It unll turn its own icay, mamma, do what I can with it." "Ay, my child," she replied; "this is just your case ; you will turn your own ivay, do what I will with you ; and the only difference between you and the compass is, the compass will turn the riylit way, and you icill turn the wrong." " But which way shall I turn, dear mother?" " There is a little bright star in the heavens, (I will show it you some night,) which is constantly fixed alone at one point and there it steadily remains. The whole heavens seem to turn round this little star, and yet it never moves. This needle turns towards that little star, and, although various things may, from 134 THE HOLIDAY LOOK. time to time, put it away or make it deviate, yet as soon as it becomes itself, it turns to that little star again." " "Well, that is quite wonderful ! but can it be true?" " As true 'as is the needle to the pole' and then the good it does. Sailors know that this is its pro- perty, and as they can depend upon it, they are enabled to travel thousands and thousands of miles when nothing is to be seen but sky and water. Thus they find their way from one part of the world to the other ; even in the darkest night they can steer their ships by this little compass, and find the port to which they may be bound. I wish you were like that little compass." " How should I be like a little compass, mamma ?" " In this way : the compass, or needle rather, turns towards that little pole-star, as it is called, and although it may vary a little from time to time, and for certain reasons, yet it always points more or less in that direc- tion. I should wish you to have the same tendency towards God as the needle has to that bright little star so that, although you might from time to time deviate a little, yet, that upon the whole your ten- dency would be heavenwards." " Ay, I know what you mean, mamma ; you wish me to be a good boy." " Tes ; but you cannot be a good boy without you have a principle within you tending heavenwards, any more than that needle would poiut to the north were it not touched with the magnet." " Oh ! I know now : the magnet. I had some COAT uriLDnra 133 little ducks and swans which used to be made to come and go as I wished them with a magnet, I recollect it; I recollect it." " Unless your heart be touched by Divine grace, you would be as unable to move in the right direction as that needle would without the loadstone. Shall I show you now the effect that your selfishness has in drawing you from God ?" " If you please, mamma." Mrs. Sinclair now took the poker from the fire- place, and placing it within a few inches of the com- pass, the needle at first began to tremble violently, and then made a rapid move towards the poker. " Just as you see that needle drawn away from its balance and its right direction by this iron, so are you drawn from heavenly goodness by these toys. The iron of your heart the selfishness it contains, impels you in one direction, while God wills that you should move in another. You love yourself better than you do the boy who saved you from punishment this morning ; was it so with him ? " " Oh, no, dear mother, I see it now. I give them up ; I give them all up. Playfair may have them all, (here he began to place the various toys in the box,) give ine the note, dear mother. I do wish to be as good as God can make me ; there, there they are good-by playthings," but here the poor little fellow could not help dropping a few tears. " The tears wild come, mamma. Indeed, I do not wish them to come, but they will force themselves out informed me that I was wanted on the quarter-deck. I fully expected it was to hear my sentence pro- nounced. Jack told me that I had deserted the ship by throwing myself overboard ; and that going to Davy Jones was high treason against the king ; yet he bade me to keep my heart up, but not to go with it in my mouth. The captain of the Medusa was a fine gray-headed old man, with a ruddy countenance, and a small, clear- blue eye. He was tall and portly, and calm and mild in his speech. I was taken below into the cabin to him, and found him sitting alone. He looked at me 170 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. as I entered, but I did not seem afraid. There was something in his face that seemed to give me confi- dence, although I fully expected I was to receive a sentence of further punishment ; but yet I felt that there was something in the captain I could love. " My boy," said he, " why did you throw yourself overboard?" " Because, your honour, I wished to die." "Did you ever read that book which was taken from your jacket ?" This was my Bible. "When it was mentioned, it brought before me my mother, the Clergyman, the Quaker, the prison, my innocence, all my former life. I held out my hand, as if to take the book, and burst into tears. The captain looked at me. " Boy," said he, " had you read your Bible?" " Tour honour," said I, " I have always read my Bible ; and last night, after the watch was set, I read & chapter in the fore-top. There is a rope-yarn in the place now, your honour." He opened the book. ""What chapter did you read?" said he. I told him. He then questioned me on the chapter, as to its meaning. To all his questions I gave the best answers I could, and they seemed to please him. " Now, my lad, tell me, why did you wish to die ?" Now is my time, thought I ; and so, without any further preface I told the captain the history of my life, of my trial, imprisonment, and the establishment of my innocence; and, lastly, of the conversation which I had overheard between the midshipman and THE TEAVELS OP BEUBEN BAMBLE. 171 lieutenant, and how it had disheartened me. I ended by saying, that if he would forgive me this time, I would for the future behave like a British sailor, and do my duty like a man. The captain now talked to me as a father would have done ; he said I had done very wrong, and that what I told him was but a poor excuse for my conduct. He was, however, glad to find, that I knew what my duty was, both to God and man ; and, lastly, he told me to recollect, that Providence had placed me on board his ship, that I might fight for my king and country, and, above all, for my religion ; and that if I threw my life away, in a fit of ill temper, I should commit a great crime both to God and my country ; that if I was not afraid of death, I should show it in. battle, when the time came. He then gave me back my Bible, and told me to keep it, and study it, when I had leisure, and not to be afraid or ashamed of doing so ; "for,'* said he, (which part of his speech, I think, was meant for the armourer and quarter-master, who brought me in,) " a truly brave man FEABS GOD, and him only." So I put my Bible again in my bosom, and made a bow and a scrape, and left the cabin, determined, now that I was not to be considered as a thief, to do all I could to make myself useful. But yet I had a mis- giving within me: perhaps the captain would not tell the lieutenant my story, and I might again be considered a thief; so I slipped aside from the quarter- master, and went back. " Please your honour," said I, " I beg your honour's pardon, but I have a letter to prove I never was a 172 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. thief; and will your honour let me send it to the lieu- tenant, who thought I was ?" " Send it to me, send it to me," said the captain. So I went back, and sent a letter, which had been written by the Clergyman to testify my good character. The lieutenant returned it to me himself the next morning. " I am glad I was mistaken in you," said he, " and I have ordered the purser to give you a monkey." " "Well," thought I, " what can this be ?" but I was afraid to ask the lieutenant, and I puzzled myself a great deal about it. I thought, perhaps, that when we came into the warm climates, where the monkeys live, that I should have one to take home ; so, when I went below, I said to Jack Scroggins, " Jack, what is a monkey?" " Why that depends upon how you get it. If you buy the monkey, it is a rope's-end on your shoulders^ to the tune of a couple of dozen." I began to fear there was more sorrow in store for me. "But, mayhap, you mean a monkey-jacket like this ? You get them of the purser." "That is it," said I; and so then I told Jack of my good fortune. CnAPTER VII. TEE SEA FIGHT. .ts Mr OR several days after this affair, everything C^| went on pleasantly enough at sea; our ship made rapid way with a fair wind. At last, how- evor, the weather grew very hot, and, after a very scorching day, the little wind we had lulled to a perfect calm, and all was fair and bright, and serene, and quiet. When the sun went down into the ocean, as it seemed, to the far west, I cast my eyes thitherward, and thought of my native land, and when I should see it again. Yes, there she lies, thought I, perhaps never more to be seen by me ; and then 1 thought of my native town, and my poor mother, and of everybody who had been kind and good to me, and the tears came into my eyes ; I dashed them on one side with the hard sleeve of my jacket, and said to myself, Providence will take care of me, and then I put my hand upon my Bible, and looked around to see if any body could observe me, for I always made it a point to read one chapter before nightfall. So I stole up into the fore-top ; for there was, as usual a great deal of noise below, and sat myself down. There was nothing but sea and sky around me ; the former was spread out like a broad mirror, and a ray of light along its bosom from the setting sun, seemed like a pathway into heaven. I looked along the line of light, and thought of that bright and glorious place ; 1 watched and watched, till, at last, the lower 174 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. rim of the sun kissed the water, and his full round orb sank, like a dying saint, unto his rest. "While I was musing, and thinking of a thousand things, almost too great for thought, the deep boom of the gun, fired at sunset, awoke me from my reverie, I was called back to the world again but the stars now began to glimmer, and show their twinkling on the quiet sea. The ship was in the Bay of Biscay ; I had often heard of this place, and had been told many stories of it. I had supposed it to be a terrible stormy part of the ocean, where shipwrecks commonly occurred ; I had heard of wavea running mountains high, but here all was as placid and quiet as an inland lake. As the evening drew on, however, there was a per- ceptible swell from the north-west ; and, as the moon rose then in her last quarter, a dim haze surrounded her. Before morning, the clear sky was obscured by clouds, which, at day-break, wore an angry purple tint. The sun rose, but no one saw him ; the wind began to blow a stiff breeze, and, meeting the tide., soon got up a bit of a sea. The boatswain's whistle was heard loud and fre- quently, so that I was obliged to be as active and nimble as a cat. The ship was trimmed, every rope secured, every sail ready to clew up for reefing, and she scudded away bravely, meeting the bold sea ; and bursting through it like a thing of life. The wind blew stronger and stronger ; and, at last, with such fury, that sail after sail was first reefed, and then taken in, but still it continued to blow. A sud- clun squall came on at one lime, and away went thjs THE TEAVELS OF IlEUBEN EAMBLE. 175 main-topgallant-mast ; it fell with a crash the ship quivered but dashed onwards. The gale now blew so furiously, that every sail was not only taken in, but slewed away from the yard- arms we scudded under bare poles; and, the tide having turned, we were running through the sea at the rate of sixteen knots an hour. During the whole of the time that this gale wa blowing and I never had any notion that wind could blow with such violence I never saw a single person on board but seemed to enjoy it; everybody was- cheerful and merry, and flew about with such alacrity and good-will, as to banish fear even from me, young as I was, and I began to like a sailor's life more than ever. The sea now ran indeed mountains high ; and our good ship was either on the top of an immense billow, from which we could see the horizon all around us, or sunk into a deep gulf, in which we could see nothing- but the dark waters standing like walls on either side, but away we went. The captain stood near the wheel at the quarter-deck, and every time the sea broke over the frigate's bows, and carried all before it, as far as the main-chains, he would say, "Well done, old girl, dip your nose into it again;" and then the rigging would quiver, and the wind passing through it, made a noise as shrill as the boatswain's whistle. "A sail! on the larboard bow," uttered the watch, at the fore-top; and so there was, but at a great distance. The lieutenant ran up the rigging, and point- ing his telescope towards her, soon discovered the vessel to be French a large frigate and, as soon as 176 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. he came down, the word was given to clear for action. Fight in such a gale of wind as this, thought I, that is impossible ; so I said to Old Scroggins, " We are not going to fight, are we ?" " I should hope we are, my lad," said he; "and I hope we shall lick them, that is all, and get some prize-money." We were going at such a rapid rate through the water, that, in a very few minutes, we were within clear view of the vessel before us. She was a much larger ship than ours, and was endeavouring to lay-to oinder double-reefed topsails ; as the wind had not in- creased, we bent a couple of sails to enable us to veer the ship, being determined, notwithstanding the gale, to attack the enemy. At last, we came within pistol-shot, and hoisting our colours, we fired a shot ahead of her, as we rose upon the waves ; to this she replied, and immediately ran up the French flag. Before the white rag was at the mast-head, crack went four or five of our guns, as we could get them to bear ; to this she poured forth a broadside, and three or four of our men, whom I was serving with powder at one of the guns, fell, covered with blood. I should have been terribly frightened at this, I dare say, had I not been so busily employed, but I had no time to be afraid; presently, crack went another volley from the Frenchman, and several others fell around me ; among the rest, a little boy, about the same age as myself, who was wounded by a cannon shot. THE TRAVELS OP REUBEN RAMBLE. 177 Our men now seemed quite furious, for the French- men seemed getting the best of it, and fired away so rapidly, as to silence, in part, the enemy's fire ; the sea, too, lulled, although there was still a heavy swell. The battle went on, but with what success I knew not, for I could now neither hear nor see ; the noise of the cannon had stunned my ears, and the clouds of smoke kept me from seeing anything but those about me. At last, I heard a loud hurrah ; the firing ceased for a moment it went on again from the forward guns another shout then all was still for a moment; several of the crew rushed on deck, I followed, and what a sight the French ship was in flames. We had ceased firing, and stood looking at the havoc we had made; our captain had ordered the boats out, but the sea ran too high. As the smoke cleared away, we observed that the French frigate had not struck her colours, which still streamed proudly from the mast-head. The flames were bursting from the quafter-deck, and running up the mizen-rigging : the crew gathered forward, and bringing eight or nine guns to bear upon our ship, poured a volley of grape shot into us, that killed a number of our bravest fellows. "We returned this compliment with a broadside, so> well directed, that I saw the Frenchman heel as she* received it; the crew gave a wild cheer "Vive la Eepublique" in the midst of the flames; we fired again, and another cheer broke from the wretched crew. We were just preparing for another discharge, when, all in a moment, the French ship blew up with 8 178 THE HOLIDAY EOOK. a tremendous explosion, her masts, timbers, and spars firing over us, flaming and burning as they vrere; some fell in our rigging, some on our deck. As soon as we had got rid of them \ve looked again for the *!iip sJte was gone ! Yes ; and who she was, or what she was, I never knew to this day, for, after the fight, the wind rose again, and we were borne away with its violence. The Fi'snch ship we saw no more she had sunk in the depths of the sea. As soon as the fight was over, and the decks washed from the blood, and the dead thrown overboard, I took the first opportunity of opening my Bible, fceing desirous of thanking God for my safety, when, 'what was my astonishment to find it perforated by a bullet, which lay imbedded in its leaves, and thus saved r t.'-if life. After this we scudded away in the same direction, namely, towards Gibraltar, as we were bound to the Mediterranean. The weather, however, moderated, and our sails were again bent. The way the time is spent in a man-of-war is very different to the way it is spent on shore. In the evenings, especially, the sailors, between deck, sit round in circles, and many a song is sung, and many a tough yarn is related. Some of these made me laugh heartily; and the songs were the drollest, or the bravest. One of the most favourite with the sailors was " Ben Eackstay," another was the " Storm." There was one old fellow who used to sing this song with such effect, that he would silence the whole of his comrades, who THE TBATELS OF EEUBEN KAMBLE. 179 would listen to him as a young lady would to a nightingale. Some of the stories that used to be told were of the perils of the sea, giving an account of shipwrecks, bat- tles, overland expeditions, the surprisals of forts; others were of various parts of the world which the sailors had seen about earthquakes, savages, wonder- ful animals, and other extraordinary matters. Some of these stories were so outrageous that I could hardly credit them, particularly those about ghosts and hob- goblins. Tom Spanker was the strangest hand at telling a story of anybody I ever knew ; he would throw one leg over the gun-stock, and getting a group around him, with their tin tankards of three-water grog, begin, without any ceremony ; and, when the rum used to get into his fore-top, he would talk away, just like a parliamentary orator. " Ghosts," said he, knocking the ashes of his pipe on the gun-carriage, " I should think I have seen as many ghosts in my time as any chap in this ship. "There was the old admiral, who used to come as regularly every night to Bill Springall's berth to be shaved as he did when he was alive for Bill used to shave the old gentleman. ' Bill,' he would say, ' no man ever shaved like you in this mortal world.' " So Bill determined to ask the ghost, one night, if lie could give him any notion of the Trench fleet, which they were then in search of. At first the ghost would not answer the question, but only ejaculated 'Lather! lather!' " So Bill lathered the ghost again and again, and K 2 180 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. soaped him up to the eyes, still questioning him about; the French fleet. ' You must know, admiral,' said he r 'where the fleet is, seeing that a ghost knows every- thing, and can go from pole to pole in a twinkling.' " The ghost kept his mouth shut. Jack thought he might be afraid to open it because of the lather ; so he took the end of his pigtail, and twisting it round the admiral's shoulder, wiped the lather from between hia lips. " ' Now,' said Bill, ' for the honour of the service, if you do not tell me where the French fleet is I will not shave you;' so he held him by the nose. " The ghost was terribly vexed at this, and struck himself in the chest several times. Bill, who was an> interpreter of signs, understood this to mean that the- French were at Brest ; so he shaved the admiral in the regular manner. "'And now go and lather the French,' said the ghost. "And so we did for they were at Brest, sure enough ay, and we dry-shaved them, too. It was rough work, I assure you; and so Bill's dream of the story of the ghost proved true." After that I passed through many a storm and many a fight. I rose from being a poor boy to the post of a good sailor ; and here I am, you see, taut and trim to the last. NATUEAL HISTOEY. The Boa Constrictor. THESE formidable reptiles called Boas, are found only in the warmer parts of tlie world, where the vegetation is rich, and many of them living near the water, more than in the dry and open places. They are most abundant in Brazil. It has been sometimes supposed that the Boa Constrictor exists in the old continent, in the hottest parts of Asia and Africa, and there only ; but it is more probable that the large serpents found In these places are cobras, and that the true Boa Constrictor is found only in the richer parts of tropical America. 'The Boa Constrictor kills his prey by muscular 182 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. strength only. It does not sting, or inflict any wound by its teeth, but coils itself round the body of its vic- tim, and crushes it to death. As is the case with all serpents, the Boas have no means of masticating or dividing their prey ; but as a compensation, the gape is remarkably wide, and the throat and gullet capable of much dilation. The tribe, or family of Boa, comprehends all those- serpents that have their scales entire, or of one plate, extending from side to side, and which, at the same- time, have neither a rattle, nor a spinous prolongation,, at the end of the tail. It is by this series of single scales that the family of the Boa is distinguished from, other crushing serpents. The Boa Constrictor, " the roebuck serpent," one of the largest and most formidable of the species, is easily known by the markings along the back, which are very distinct. These consist of a regular succession of spots, alternately black, and in the form of irregular hexagons, and are all of a yellow colour, and broken by notches at the sides. Some of the species attain a very large size, measuring; thirty or forty feet in length, and when they are of that size they can master deer, and even buffaloes. They have a spinous hook at each side of the lower part of the body, and they are capable of holding on by a tree, or a branch, with the latter part of the tail, while the rest of the body coils round the captured animal, and sometimes draw it towards the tree, where it is crushed to death. After the prey has been thus captured, should it be too large to swallow, the reptile generally breaks the HISTORY. 183 bones, and reduces it to an oblong mass ; it then smears it all over with its glutinous saliva,, and begins to swal- low it by a very slow process, till, at last, the whole animal is entombed in the monster's capacious stomach. The slimy matter, with which the prey is covered, has been proved to be a very powerful solvent of grer.t lubricating power, which assists digestion as well r.s deglutition. The construction of the jaws of the Boa Constrictor is well adapted to enable him to swallow his prey whole : he can open them to an immense extent, as we could a purse with a steel circular snap, which will fold completely back from each other, till they are in the same plane. Indeed, this is but an approximation, for the jaws of the Boa are provided with sets of mus- cles which expand, and thus enable it to open its throat and mouth still wider. The form of the teeth, and the peculiar junction of the jaw bones, urges the prey inwards, something in the same manner as the awn or beard of a barley-corn moves up a man's sleeve when he moves his arm ; or as hairs work into a compact mass, in the operation of making a hat, or any other process of felting. After the animal has thus gorged himself with his prey, it falls into a state of inactivity and stupor, and at this time may be safely approached and easily destroyed. There are three principal species of Boa. They all attain nearly the same size, and do not differ much in their habits. They all frequent humid places, although some are more frequently found in water than the 184 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. others. They are often found hanging, by the tip of the tail, from a tree, beside a pool or stream, waiting for their victims ; and at other times they are stretched along the water, in which state they bear some resem- blance to floating sticks. The time of their greatest activity is said to be dur- ing the subsidency of the floods, after the rains, a season at which the places which are left bare are peculiarly pestilent. It is the very rankness of these places which makes them so rich. "What may be the use of such animals in the economy of nature, has not been ascer- tained, but we have reason to believe, that they per- form a work for which they are adapted, and produce good, although that good may be unknown to us. All the parts of nature act in concert with each other, and in harmony ; and it is impossible to avoid seeing, that herein is the finger of Grod, that here is wisdom of plan, and perfection of execution above all human skill and power above all human admi- ration. STOUT OF A BOA CONSTEICTOE. " It was at the latter end of the dry season, in the interminable wilds of South America," says Captain Singleton, " that we might be said to languish, as shrubs without water; but, even in this state of heat and drought, it is dangerous to remain without exercise ; so, arming our legs and feet with buskins of cork, we took our rifles, and went into the swamps, to see what we should meet with in the way of game. "All was arid desolation around us; the brick heated earth, the withered leaf, the dry reed, ready to NATURAL niSTOBY. 185 take fire spontaneously, if the wind should rustle it before the rain shall have drenched, all were silent in the stilly air, and under the burning agency of the sun ; and, to a casual observer, who sees the coming on in the extreme of one of its seasons, it seems as if deso- lation had set its seal there, never to be broken. "We wandered forth, and my friend, the major, observed tome, that a change of weather would assuredly take place by the shooting of his corns. I had no corns, but I remarked that the air on the surface of the ground became wonderfully transparent, and that objects which were not distinct, began to appear, and sounds were heard, of which the air could not at other times have taken any cognizance. " The small quantity of water which played between the earth and the nether air, seemed to have floated upward, as if the earth had been about to be deprived of even that unsatisfying draught, and the wail of the exhausted cascade came shrill and feebly through the forest, as if it were the prelude of its soon being silent for ever. But we looked round ; far beyond rose the stupendous Andes, which seemed to look down in pity from their throne of eternal snows. There was a white cloud resting on some of their lower peaks. Humidity seemed in motion upwards, escaping to another region. As the sun declined, the white cloud black- ened, and the last rays of the sun streamed on it like molten gold " Twilight faded, and all was still ; the stars were surrounded with haloes, and the southern cross resem- bled a constellation of comets, but were soon lost in the darkness. Then the v;.inds ; which had hitherto been 186 THE HOLIDAY more than usually still, began to blow ; then the signal blasts, from every point of the compass in turn ; yet the leaves were, if possible, more still than ever, and it was pitchy dark. " Now, however, there came a gleam of light, which enveloped earth and air, and then the elements seemed to burst with a violent crash. The Andes, on their eastern slope, were one blaze of lightning, and one voice of thunder, amid which the fire of the volcano was not seen, nor the sound of the earthquake heard. Then were the windows of heaven opened, and, amid the glare of the lightning and the bellowing of the thunder, the clouds, as it were, tumbled headlong, till the earth received one continued cascade from the sky. " This was the arousing of all creatures from the highest roosting birds, down to the serpents and the Boas; and the sounds of terror at the present danger, and of joy at the pleasure which this violent outbreak of nature is sure to bring, were blended together in so many notes and keys, that the creatures appeared to be as much in chaos as the elements ; and there was such a wriggling, and crowding, and burst- ing, and dashing, and flying as was both astonishing and alarming. When the drenching rains had past, every ravine had its cascade; every hollow its lake; and each of the larger rivers rolled omvards as a sea, as if they had mustered their powers to give battle to the ocean. Such was the turn of the tropical season, which raises the great serpents of America from their temporary inaction, and sends them high in the trees, or distant to their haunts, to begin the season of activity. ffATUBAL HISTOBY. 187 " Being prevented by the rains on the past evening, we took our excursion on the following day, amid an uproar of waters, and whirlpools, and fallen trees, and broken banks, such as I had never seen. The whole of the earth seemed chaotic; and in the confusion, writhed many a snake of enormous length, and many a reptile recalled to a state of activity and vigour. As we went through the swamp on such passable places as were left us, we were astonished, as we approached a large tree, to see the enormous folds of a Boa Con- strictor, one of the largest ever seen, twisted about its trunk, while its eager head was raised under its branches, as if ready to dart down upon us. "We lost no time our Mexican was at hand with his spear, and, with more courage than wisdom, made a lunge with it in the direction of the tree. He pierced the reptile's skin, who immediately dropped, and ran along the grass. The Mexican followed, but in a moment the serpent encompassed him ; we heard the breaking of his ribs and bones, by the pressure of the creature, his cry was short but piercing, we flew to- his rescue, but too late; I presented iny double- barrelled gun, and fired ; I, however, missed my aim, the major drew closer, and, just as the Boa raised his head, and opened his enormous jaws, fired at him. Slightly wounded, the monster again made for the din- gle with incredible speed, but, turning himself sharply round, came in the line of my rifle ; I immediately gave him a second shot, which told well, for he rolled him- self up, and threw himself into a number of hideous contortions, hissing and squeaking in a furious man- ner, while the blood spurted from his throat and nos- 188 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. trils. Determined not to lose him, we drew our swords, and made several slashes at such parts of his long carcass as were within our reach ; but, tenacious of life, it was some time before we could thoroughly subdue him. At last, however, he lay without motion he was dead. " "We now went to our poor Mexican, in whom life was also extinct. Upon making an examination of his body, we found his arms, shoulder-blades, and breast-bone had been crushed and pressed together with such force, that the upper part of his body was a shapeless lump ; his face was black, and the blood poured from his mouth in large quantities. Indeed, his whole body presented a spectacle too horrible to be described. " The same day we conveyed the body of the Mexi- can, and that of the Boa, on a litter, to the fort ; the former we buried in the north-west angle, engraving on one of the rampart stones the cause of his death. The latter, which was thirty-seven feet in length, I dissected, and brought home with me, and I have now presented it to the museum of my native town." 180 LOVE. LITTLE children, LOVE each othcry And in sweet affection call Every one a sister, brother, God the father is of all. So the Lord of life did teach us, Who descended from above, Living, dying, did beseech us Evermore to dwell in LOVE. Send thy Spirit, LOED, to soften These dry sterile hearts of ours, As thy rain on deserts often Giveth birth to sweetest flowers. Let our prayers like balm ascending From our blooming hearts above, So with angels' notes be blending. Father, let us dwell in LOVE. Earth and air, and all around us, Every object that we see, In a chain of LOVE hath bound us, Having origin in Thee. And thy Spirit's revelation Fell on Jesus like a dove, Showing thus to every nation Grace and holiness is LOVE. TEACHINGS FKOM NATURE. THE STOEM. How dark is the sky ; how sultry is the air ; the birds dart swiftly from tree to tree, the winds lull, the clouds hang over us like a pall ; there is no hum of insect or note of bird all is hushed, and calm, and Now the wind moans ; big drops of rain fall down from the swollen sky ; the thunder growls afar ; the clouds seem enemies, and rush asunder; the wind walks in majesty on the tops of the dark pines. Hush ! hush ! the storm comes on ; the thunder booms ; the lightnings run along the ground like fiery serpents, or leap from cloud to cloud. Again the thunders crash. Look at yon once proud oak it bites the dust. Now the rain falls, mingled with fire peal on peal goes crashing far and wide the deluge pours around. Lo, it comes from the hills, like rampant steeds, and bounds over the little rocks like frisky lambs. It sweeps along, in muddy turbulence, through the vale. Huge roots, uptorn from granite beds, dash onwards in its foam ; the thunders are still, but the hoarse voice of the wild flood yet makes fearful music. Now the earth quakes ; the winds rave over the headland peaks, and the dark sea heaves high ; it TEACHINGS rHOM NATURE. 191 seems to smite the frowning clouds with an arm of foam. The heavens glare fiercely, like an angry man ; now the sky opens, and the eye seems as it could look for a moment into heaven. Now all is dark again. The forests stoop as they would shun the gale. Hark at the cry of birds, the moan of beasts, and the loud soughing of the boughs. But now it is past, and all is still again. The blue sky appears, like a fond eye of love, opening upon the scene ; the birds chirp ; the little worm comes forth from its cell; the bees come and kiss the weeping flowers. The sun bursts forth in glory, and the thou- sand drops, pendent from blade, and bush, and bough, are turned to dia- mond drops ; while the black cloud afar, sends its smile ot many hues to greet the glorious sun. God, thou hast set thy mercy in the clouds the bow without the shaft ; under its glorious arch let the whole of nature worship thee. Thy storms, thy tempests, thy thunder?, and thy rains, are blessings all. 192 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. i THE SEA. LOOK upon the sea! it stretches far and wide from pole to pole, from shore to shore: now bound by ice-ribbed hills, now laving the hot and sandy beach. It spreads out like a great mirror ; and, when it is calm, the bright sun, the soft moon, and the glittering stars, seem to glass themselves therein. The clouds throw their dark shadows over it, and then it rises up in pride. The wind blows it dances in delight, and seems to laugh as it glitters in the sun. The " waves clap their hands," and are full of joy ; they shout out a wild hymn of praise, and seem to say, "Hallelujah God Omnipotent reigneth!" as they echo round the rocks. The nautilus comes up, and spreads her little sail, and then sinks down again; the halcyon wings ia beauty to and fro in morning's splendour; the dolphin gambols with the mid-day sun ; and the huge whale dives to the depths profound. And even there, mid crystal rocks and coral caves, where sun-light never comes, and the eye can never fathom, even in the depths of darkness, and in a land unseen, beauty dwelleth. There too is life and joy. The little worm-shell and the barnacle, the cowry, and the million million TEACHINGS FROM NATUEE. 193 things that hang to rocks, or feed on sponge and weed, all feel a joy in living. "Who is the source of all this life and joy ; whose love extends down to the darkest depths of the deep sea ? whose watchful eye guards and keeps the smallest living thing ? It is his, who made them GOD'S. "What shall we liken to the sea ? Is it not the mind of man, spread out before the gaze of heaven ? Now it is calm now it beats high in pride now it swells with tempest. Again it dances in delight. Bright thoughts, like lovely birds, pass over it. Now it flows onwards in a mighty tide, and hope and joy, as sunbeams, rest upon it then it ebbs and falls. When it is fair and bright above, dark currents run leneatli. But here the eye of God can pierce, here his love will work, his light and glory shine ! KIVERS. KIYEES have their rise in little rills, which gash from the sides of mountains. Several of these unite, and form a stream ; and these again meeting, form a rivulet ; and several rivulets form a river : which sometimes runs for many thousand miles, and makes all the country fertile through which it passes. When rivers descend from high land to that which is lower, it often falls over rocks and precipices it is then called a cascade ; or, if very large, a cataract. Some of these are so large, that the water breaks into 194 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. spray before it readies the ground, and the sound of it may be heard for several miles. Some rivers overflow their banks at certain seasons, owing to the melting of the snow on the mountain tops, or the fall of heavy rains. The river Nile over- flows it banks ; and, when the waters subside, very great crops of rice and corn immediately spring up, as food for man. There are very few parts of the earth in which rivers are not found ; and great, indeed, is their use to mankind. Shall I tell you what a river is like ? It is like the life of man small at first ; the little stream is like a little child, and plays among the flowers of a meadow ; it waters a garden, or turns a puny mill. As it flows on it gathers strength ; and, like a child in youth, it becomes turbulent and impatient as it swells along. Now, like a roaring cataract, it shoots headlong down many a rock; then it becomes a sullen and gloomy pool, buried in the bottom of a glen. Recovering breath by repose, it again dashes on, till, tired of uproar and mischief, it quits all that it has swept along, and leaves the valley, through which, it has passed, strewed with its rejected waste. Now again, it travels more slowly. It passes through the busy haunts of men, lending its service on every side, and, advancing in its course, becomes stately and grand. Now, instead of breaking over obstacles, it twines round them, and it thus passes along a more quiet course. At last it leaves the busier world, and slowly and silently travels on ; till, at the end, it enters the vast abyss of ocean, which seems spread out, like eternity, TEACHINGS TEOM ITATUEE. 195 to receive it. Yes, my child, such is tlie course of man. THE WOODS. THE woods are bursting into life, the spring sun lights them. The soft winds from the west seem to say, " Open your leaves, open your leaves," and then they kiss them again and again. The buds shine in the sun, and the warmth of his beams melt the resin which has so long kept their tender shoots from the cold. The leaves burst forth, and the woods are green. Now, again, a change comes over them they are in their full summer glory : every leaf is expanded ; the birds are hidden, and dark shadows spread them- selves ; the blossoms burst forth, and the branches wave in the southern breeze. The leaves are fading now. There is a red flush on the maple, and a brown tint upon the elm. The far off groves seem bronzed, aud the light of the autumnal sun paints them with varied hues of beauty. The fern is yellow in the dell; the hawthorn is bare, but its berries are bright and red ; the oak sheds its fruit, and the catkins of the hazel hang droopingly. The leaves are falling one by one ; the moss now clothes the rugged root ; the heath is withering ; and over the decaying wood, fungi rise a life in death. Now cometh the sharp-edged axe, and as the leaves fell, so the trees themselves now fall ; and there they lie like dead men strewn upon the battle-field. But spring shall come, and all will again be green ; o 2 196 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. and birds will sing, and bees will hum, and flies will sport among the trees ; all will be life and joy again. So do we rise and flourish, so do AVC fade and fall. The trees are emblems of our life and death they too may teach that wo shall flourish in a second spring. CLOUDS. How beautiful are the clouds at morn ; they look like ruby gems set round with gold ; and the lark mounts towards them, and sings as if he were at heaven's gate. How bright are the clouds at mid-day, when high in the sky they hang, and show their pearly whiteness- ill the azure sky. At sun-set they again are beautiful, and in the far west they take all hues and forms. Sometimes they look like towers and castles, high thrones and lofty palaces of topaz and of gold. At night, when the moon shines on them, they look air and white, and pure ; and when all is hushed and still, seem like a flock of little lambs asleep. Tet what are clouds but vapours ? soon they pass away, soon they change : now they become dark with tempest ; now they swell in storm ; but then the bow of mercy is seen, and nature, in the midst of showers, is cheered. Life is like a cloud, fleeting and changeable : to-day it is gay and bright, to-morrow it is dark and lull of gloom ; yet again the sun shines upon it, and it sinks to its rest in peace. TEACHINGS FROM NATTJHE. 197 "What gives to the clouds their brightness and their beauty ? It is the sun that lights them, gilds them with his beams, and paints them with his smiles. What gives to life its glory ? It is the smile of Him who formed the clouds to water the earth with rain, and to refresh all plants and herbs. It is He who gives to life's morning its bright joys ; who in manhood's prime exalts and sustains us ; who in the storm and darkness, like the rainbow, smiles upon us ; and who, at even time, when death would draw his curtains round us, brightens the soul with hope. A DEOP OF DEW. BEHOLD yon drop of crystal dew, which hangs pen- dent from a blade of grass. How it sparkles in the sun ; it looks like a little star in the green mead. " "Whence comest thou, little diamond-drop ? and why comest thou ? I have seen thet, is a pure gem on buds, and leaves, and flowers, making all bright and cheerful about thee. " Sometimes thou liest like a deep fond tear, in the snow-drop's bell, and one would almost think the flowers did weep, were you not so bright and they so gay." " I came from the sea, little boy; from the place of pearls, and shells, and gems; from dark rocks and Avhirling sands ; from coral caves and diamond mines, but I had no light from them. "The sun called me from the deep sea, that I might rejoice in his light. I arose at his call, and 198 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. leaving the salt and bitter ocean, became pure and clear ; and tben he threw his beams upon me to make " I came not for my own good, but that I might do good to others. I moisten the blighted plant, and it springs up again. I restore the withered flower. I call the dying unto life. " So hast thou been called from the dust, little boy, by the God who made thee. So must thou rise to welcome his light and love. So must thou shed bless- ings and comfort around thee. " Look at me again, little boy ; do you not see that, while I sparkle, the whole image of the sun is reflected in me ? " So beameth the Spirit of G-od in thine own soul ; so will his light illumine thy heart, and so will his image be reflected from thee, if thou art his child. " So wilt thou give new life and joy, and peace to all around ; comfort the stricken heart, brighten the darksome breast, and be a solace to them that droop and mourn." LJK THE WONDEKS OF GEOLOGY. THE MASTADON, THE MEGATHERIUM, ETC. LOOK at this immense skeleton. It is that of a Mas- tadon, and belongs to a family of immense animals that lived on the earth before the flood. The skeleton, of which this is a picture, is to be seen in the British Museum. Its height is about eighteen feet, and its length nearly fifteen. It is a kind of gigantic elephant, and was found on the banks of the river Missourri in North America. Another gigantic antediluvian animal is the Megathe- rium, which is found near Buenos Ayres ; it is nearly as large as the elephant, its body being nine feet long and seven feet high. Its feet were enormous, being a yard in length, and more than twelve inches wide. They were terminated by gigantic claws ; while its huge tail, which, probably, served as a means of de- fence, was larger than that of any other beast, living or extinct. The form of its teeth proved that this large animal must have lived upon vegetables ; and its claws were, probably, used for digging up the roots upon which, it is supposed to have fed. This animal has been called the Megatherium: mega (great), therion (wild beast); it is of the sloth species, and seems to have had a very thick skin, like that of the armadillo, set on in plates like a coat of armour. There are no such animals in existence now; they belong to a former state of this earth to a tune before the creation of man. There are also many other fossil animals belonging 200 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. to the ancient earth. One of them is called the Ichthyosaurus, or fish lizard. It had the teeth of a crocodile, the head of a lizard, and the fins or paddles of a whale. These fins, or paddles, were very curious, and consisted of above a hundred small bones, closely united together. This animal used to live principally at the bottoms of rivers, and devour amazing quanti- ties of fish, and other water animals, and sometimes its own species ; for an Ichthyosaurus has been dug out of the cliffs at Lyme Hegis, with part of a small one in his stomach. Another of these fossil animals is called the Plesio- saurus, a word which means like a lizard. It appears to have formed an intermediate link between the Croco- dile and the Ichthyosaurus. It is remarkable for the great length of its neck, which must have been longer than that of any living animal. At the Crystal Palace you may see a restoration of this animal, as in all probality he might have appeared when he was alive. There is another animal, called the Pterodactyle, with gigantic wings. The skull of this animal must have been very large, in proportion to the size of the skeleton, the jaws themselves being longer than its body. They were furnished with sharp hooked teeth. The orbits of the eyes are very large ; hence it is pro- bable that it was a nocturnal animal, like the bat, which, at the first sight, very much resembles it in the wings, and other particulars. The word Pterodactyle signifies wing-fingered ; and, if you observe, you will find that it had a hand of three fingers at the bend of each of its wings, by which, pro- THE WONDERS OF GEOLOGY. 201 "bably, it hung to the branches of trees. Its food seems to have been large dragon-flies, beetles, and other insects, the remains of some of which have been found close to the animal. The largest of the fossil animals which have been discovered is the Diuotherium, being of the enormous length of nineteen feet. It was a herbiverous animal, and inhabited fresh water lakes and rivers, feeding on weeds, aquatic roots, and vegetables. Its lower jaws measured four feet in length, and are terminated by two large tusks, curving downwards, like those of the upper jaw of the walrus, by which it appears to have hooked itself to the banks of rivers, as it slept in the water. A picture of the Dinotherium shows him taking hold of a tree with his trunk. The remains of these animals, and of various others, belonged, as I have already informed you, to a former condition of this earth, before man became an inhabit- ant of it NATURAL HISTOET. CHAPTER I. Ton know well what a bee is ; as, I dare say, you have often watched one buzzing about from flower to flower. Tou may not, however, know much about the structure and habits of the bee so I will tell you. If you look at a bee, you will find that it is curiously formed ; and the first remnrkable member on its body is its trunk, which is not of a tubular form, like that of most other insects, by which the juices of flowers are sucked up, but rather like a tongue, by which the honey is licked away. The bee is also furnished with teeth, which assist it in making its wax. The belly of the bee is divided into six rings, which it can contract or expand at pleasure. It is also furnished with a honey-bag, a venom-bag, and a sting. The honey-bng is transparent and as clear as crystal. It contains the honey which the bee has licked from the flowers, the greater part of which is carried to the liive, and poured into the cells of the honeycomb, the remainder serving the insect for its own nourishment j NATURAL ITISTOEY. 203 for, during the summer, ib never touches its winter hoard. The sting is composed of two small darts, each of which is armed with several points or barbs, and a sheath, Avhich, by means of its sharp point, makes the first cut in the flesh, and is immediately followed by the dart or sting. The bee is also furnished with two stomachs ; one for its honey and the other for its wax. In this latter stomach the wax is formed from that fine powder, or farina, collected from flowers, by being swallowed, digested, and concocted into real wax, and then ejected from the same passage by which it was swallowed. The bee, in preparing his wax from the flowers, rolls himself in their farina, or dust ; his body being covered with hairs, this sticks to it ; it is afterwards brushed off by the bee's hind legs, and kneaded into balls. There is a large proportion of this powder kneaded together for food in every hive, and known by the name of bee-bread. This serves the bee, in part, for winter provisions. The honey which the bee collects is taken from that part of the flower called the nectarium ; and, after passing into the honey-bag, is disgorged into one of the cells in the hive. Such is the manner in which the honey and wax are made. CHAPTER II. THE ECONOMY OP THE BEE. IP you look at a beehive, with th ^ ne various existences that sur- round us the sun, the sky, the stars ; hills, rocks, seas, trees, birds, beasts, earth, stones, water, air, and light ; these things, and others like to them, are called Natural Objects. But, observing further, we find that the sun moves from east to west, and that in the morning and even ing he looks larger than at mid-day ; that the moon changes nightly ; that the stars twinkle ; that the sea ebbs and flows ; that the clouds send down rain ; the air roars in heavy gales of wind; and that the sky sends forth thunder, storm, and lightning. These, and similar appearances, are called Natural Phenomena. The word phenomena means an appearance to our senses. But these appearances very often deceive us ; as, for instance, the sun is not larger at morning or evening, although it may appear to be so ; the sky is not blue, nor is it concave, as it seems to be ; the stars themselves do not twinkle, the twinkling appearance being caused by the aberration of light. Again, in a clear lake, other rocks or woods appear to rise, similar to those by which it is surrounded ; which appearance is produced by the reflection of the light proceeding from those objects. A stick, also, when placed in the water, seems to be bent. This appearance arises from the refraction of light, and is equally deceptive. 216 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. The senses being thus deceived, it becomes neces- sary that we should have some test by which we may discover what is false, and what is true, in regard to what we observe. The test is, to subject all the phenomena of nature to the action of our reasoning faculties, and not to depend solely iipon the evidence of our senses. The science which enables us to investigate and explain these natural phenomena, is called NATURAL PHILOSOPHY, or PHYSICS. Its objects are to ascer- tain those fixed laws relating to the UIHTEBSE, by which all things are sustained and regulated, called the LAWS OF NATTJBE. A law of Nature is a certain and fixed rule. It is a law of Nature, that water finds its own level ; and that every solid body, when left unsupported, will fall to the ground. In the study of the laws of Nature will be found much that unfolds the moral attributes of the Most High ; such as his wisdom, power, providence, and goodness : hence the study of Natural Philosophy is a religious study. By a knowledge of Nature's laws, man has been enabled to convert the barren desert, the wild waste, and the impervious wood, into a seat of comfort, and luxury, and grandeur ; to rescue himself from, a pre- carious and savage life; to clothe himself, cook his food ; to erect cities, construct bridges, dig canals, build ships ; to rise above the clouds, and descend to the depths of the sea without injury. Thus, Natural Philosophy is a useful study. 217 CHAPTER II. OP CAUSE AND EFFECT. EVERYTHING that exists must have a cause. A cause is either primary or secondary. The primary, or GREAT FIRST CAUSE of all things is GOD, the Creator, the Preserver, and Ruhr of all ; and all that is, can only be referred to eternal causation. Secondary, or proximate causes, are those which immediately relate to an effect, as the sun is the cause of light and heat. The rotation of the earth on its axis is the cause of day and night. It is of great importance to us that we should understand the cause of everything brought under our observation. By knowing the causes of certain effects, we are often enabled to avert the danger to be apprehended from them. We remove the cause, and the effect, sooner or later, ceases ; as, for instance, a child puts his finger into the flame of the candle : he gets burnt. He knows the flame to be the cause of the pain, and he takes away his finger without bid- ding ; and, more than this, he does not put it there again. He has learned experience. A knowledge of effects is also of equal consequence to us. "We should be able to calculate the effects of certain operations with precision. The marksman calculates the effect of so much powder, such a weight of ball, such an elevation of his gun, the resistance cf the air, the force of gravity : he fires, and hits the mark. Natural Philosophy is peculiarly the science of causation ; it inquires not only what, but how is this : 218 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. and its perfection consists in the detection of the nearest, or proximate cause of causes. It calculates effects both near and remote ; and thus the human mind, foreseeing and counteracting, obtains in degree the mastery over matter, and approaches, though at humble distance, the wisdom of its Creator. To ascertain the nature of causes, and their effects, the philosopher proceeds upon experience, or the induction of FACTS. The larger the number of facts pre- sent to the mind in the investigation of any truth, the greater the probability of success ; the more we know of facts, the more we shall know of causes and effects; of Nature, and of GOD. CHAPTEE in. OP MATTER ; ITS YABIOUS STATES AND PKOPERTIES. THE senses, by which we become conscious of the existence of natural phenomena, are five : seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and touching; and every- thing which thus comes under the cognizance of the five senses, bears the general name of matter : which refers only to the substance of which it is composed. But this matter, under whatever state it may exist, has certain properties belonging to it, such as form, weight, extension, density, divisibility, mobility, attrac- tion, repulsion, elasticity, and inertia. Our ideas of these properties are the result of our reflecting faculties. Matter is composed of a concentration of small particles, called ATOMS, united in regular crystallized PHYSICS. 219 forms, so as to compose a compact mass. Six primi- tive regular forms can be traced; but these form infinite varieties. These primitives are, the parallelopipedon, which includes the cube, the rhomb, and all the solids, terminated by six faces, paralleled two and two ; the tetrahedron ; the octahedron ; the hexahedral, or six- sided prism ; the dodecahedron, with equal and similar rhomboidal planes ; and the dodecahedron, with triangular planes. The power which causes these atoms or particles of matter to unite and form a body more or less solid, is called attraction. This power pervades the whole of Nature, with the exception, however, of some bodies, which appear to possess an opposite power which causes them to separate from each other. This is called repulsion ; but the atoms of all bodies sepa- rate from each other by the propulsion of heat, or caloric, ATTRACTION has received different names, as it is found acting under different circumstances. When acting at sensible distances, as in the case of the moon lifting the tides, the sun and earth attracting each other, or a stone falling to the ground, it is called the attraction of gravitation. "When attraction acts at very short distances, as in keeping the atoms of a mass together, it is called the attraction of cohesion. It is called capillary attrac- tion, when it acts between a liquid and the interior of a solid ; and chemical attraction, when acting on fluids or gases. Thus the universe, and all that it contains, that 220 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. ever has been, or ever may be made apparent to our minds, through the medium of the organs of sense, is composed of very minute indestructible atoms, called matter, which, by mutual attraction, cohere, or cling together in masses of various form and magnitude. These atoms are more or less near to each other, according to the repulsion of heat among them ; and hence they exist under three general forms, or states, solid, liquid, and aeriform, as in crystal, water, and air. Certain modifications of attraction and repulsion produce the subordinate peculiarities of state, called crystal, dense, hard, elastic, brittle, malleable, ductile, and tenacious. The states and substances to which we have referred are, generally, inorganic. But matter is also organic ; that is, disposed into organs, which perform certain functions in the animal and vegetable economy necessary to life. Man is an organized being, the eye is his organ of sight. A tree is an organized sub- stance, the leaf is the organ of respiration in the tree. The consideration of organized matter is called animal and vegetable Physics. CHAPTER IV. THE MINUTENISS, DIVISIBILITY, AND IHDESTEFCTIBIUTY OP ATOMS. THE atoms which compose the various masses of matter, with which we are acquainted, are so minute as to escape our observation ; hence matter is said to be infinitely divisible. PHYSICS. 221 Of the extreme minuteness of the atoms which constitute matter, we may judge by the following illus- trations ; which, although they by no means exhibit the atoms themselves, assist the mind in its eiforts to conceive how minute the alternate atoms of matter must be. Leeuwenhoeclc proved, by the microscope, that a grain of sand would cover one hundred and twenty- five orifices through which we daily perspire ; and gave an account of certain animalcule, so small, that three hundred thousand of them were not equal to a grain of sand ; and that a pound of them would com- prise more living creatures than there are human beings on the face of this globe. Here are the forma Animalcule. of some of them ; and it must be remarked, that tho organization of many of them is exquisitely perfect. 222 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. There is a little fungus, called the puff-ball, which emits a fine dust, so light, that it floats in the air like smoke. Every particle of this dust, which is the seed of the plant, con- tains an organized germ ; and yet the diameter of a hair would be one hun- dred and twenty-five thousand times as great as the seed of the lycopedron, or puff-ball. Musk, in the quantity of a single grain, will per- fume for years a chamber twelve feet square. Such a chamber contains more than two millions of cubic inches of air, and each cubic inch must contain many thousands of the particles of musk, and this air must have been changed many thousands of times. Who would calculate the number of the particles thus diffused and extended ! Gold-beaters, by hammering, reduce gold to leaves the thirty -thousandth part of an inch in thickness. Thus a grain of gold hammered out will cover fifty square inches. It is computed that sixteen ounces of gold might be laid over enough silver wire to circum- scribe the whole earth. A piece of silver, or any other metal, may be dis- solved in an acid, or dissipated by intense heat into vapour; yet it may be recovered from these states, and collected again, to form the original mass of silver ; and it would not be more wonderful for the particles of our own bodies to re-unite after death, and become re-organized. A pound of wool may be spun so fine as to extend ninety -five miles ; the fibres of a pound of silk will PHYSICS. 223 extend five hundred and eighty-three miles ; but the threads of the spider are still finer several thousands of them go to form a single thread and a pound of them would reach round the earth. CHAPTEE V. OF THE OTHEE PEOPEETIES OF MATTES. MATTEE has solidity or impenetrability. Two bodies cannot occupy the same place at the same time. If a glass of water be filled, and a stone be placed in it, the water will be forced over. Some kinds of matter appear to be, but are not, ex- ceptions to this rule. Salt may be added to water in considerable quan- tities, without making it run over. This arises from the particles or atoms of the water being of a glo- bular form, and the particles of salt finding their way between them. Globules. Some substances, when mixed together, take up less room than they did in separate states. A glass of water, and a glass of spirits of wine, mixed together, will not afterwards be found twice to fill the glass. Zinc and copper melted together take up less room. This arises from the closer union of the particles, and by their interstices being filled up. Some bodies when heated occupy more room than before. Hot water and hot air take up more room than when cold, because their particles move further from each other by the repulsion of heat. When 224 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. water is converted into steam, it acquires nearly two thousand times its former bulk, as the atoms of which it is composed recede from each other ; at the same time air may be compressed a hundred parts into one. Thus all bodies are more or less dense or compact, and more or less porous. The more porous are generally light, such as sponge, wood, and cork ; the less porous are heavy, such as gold, lead, or stone. DENSITY is, therefore, a property of matter, by which a certain quantity occupies a certain space. Water is the common standard to which these densi- ties are referred, and hence we have what are termed specific gravities. HABDNESS in bodies is not according to their den- sities. Flint is harder than lead, although lead is the more dense and heavy. Gold, though soft, is four times heavier than the diamond, which is the hardest body known. Hardness depends upon the force with which the atoms hold their places, or some particular arrangement. ELASTICITY in bodies is found when the atoms yield to a certain extent as force is applied ; but move back again, or regain their natural positions, on the force being withdrawn. The principle of elasticity is seen throughout the whole of the vegetable kingdom : it is great in the ash and willow, and slight in the various fungi. It is seen also in the animal and mineral departments. Most hard bodies are elastic, as steel, glass, iron ; and many soft ones, as india-rubber, silk, and a harp- etring. All aeriform bodies are elastic. PHYSICS. 225 A good steel sword may be bent until its ends meet, and, when allowed, will return to perfect straightness ; a piece of cane may be twisted round, and will recover itself ; and whalebone, from its elasticity, is applied in various articles of daily use, such as umbrellas, stays, brooms, etc. ; while of steel the finest watch-springs are made. Ivory, in its most compact state, is elastic. If an ivory ball be let fall on a marble slab, it will rebound nearly to the height from which it fell, and no mark be left on either. If the slab be wet, it shows a cir- cular surface of some extent, dried by the blow ; prov- ing, that extended parts of the ball must have come in contact with it, and recovered themselves afterwards by their elasticity. BRITTLENESS belongs to most hard bodies, and par- ticularly to those on which the cohesion of the atoms that compose them exists within narrow limits. The most brittle bodies are glass, china-ware, cast-iron, and very hard steel. MALLEABILITY in bodies arises from the willingness of their atoms to cohere in every direction. The term, malleable means that the body is capable of being reduced to thin plates by the hammer. Grold is so extremely malleable that it may be reduced to leaves so thin that one thousand eight hundred would only be as thick as the leaf on which this is printed. Silver, copper, and tin, aro also malleable to a consi- derable extent. DUCTILITY means the susceptibility of bodies to be drawn into wire, and it arises from the strong cohesion of their particles, flatina, silver, iron, copper, and Q 226 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. gold, are ductile. Dr. "Wollaston produced platinum wire finer than the thread of the spider. Melted glass can be spun into threads so fine as to be scarcely perceptible. This glass thread also proves the elasticity of the substance, for it may be made to resemble the beautiful hair of an animal or the feathers of a bird, waving in the air like the plumes of a bird of paradise. TENACITY, or toughness, is seen in a great variety of bodies in the metals, in the woods, and in many animal substances. The tendons of the animal body are exceedingly tough ; the hair and wool of animals, twisted into threads, the silkworm's thread, hempen cord, etc. This quality in bodies has been of great importance in the arts of life. The following table shows the comparative tenacity, or strength, to resist pulling of certain metals and woods upon rods, whose diameter would be one- thousandth part of a square inch : Ibs. Ibs. Cast-steel 134 Wrought-iron 70 Cast-iron 19 Copper 19 Platina 16 Silver 11 Gold . 9 Tin 5 Lead 2 Teak 13 Oak 12 Birch 12 Asli 14 Deal .. ..11 Steel-wire will support about thirty-nine thousand feet ; that is, seven and a half miles of its own length. The most splendid illustrations of the tenacity of iron are to be found in the Menai Bridge, that joins the isle of Anglesea to the mainland, in "Wales, and Hungerford Bridge, over the Thames. HISTOET OF ANCIENT EGYPT. CHAPTER L THE ANCIENT KINGS OF EGYPT. THE EXPEDITION OF THE SHEPHERD KINGS, ETC. EGYPT is bounded, north, by the Mediterranean Sea ; cast, by the Bed Sea ; south, by Nubia ; and west by the desert. The Nile runs through the midst of it, from the south to the north. This river overflows once a year, and thus fertilizes the country, for it very seldom rains in Egypt. No part of ancient history is more obscure than the early Egyptian annals ; and the only thing known, with certainty, of the remote period of Egyptian history is, that the kingdom of Egypt is among the oldest of the nations of the earth. The ancient history of Egypt comprehends two thousand one hundred and fifty-eight years, and is naturally divided into three periods. The first begins with the establishment of the Egyptian monarchy by Menes, or Misraim, the son of Ham, in the year of the world 1816, or there- abouts, and ends with the destruction of that mon- archy by Cambyses, king of Persia, in the year of the world 3479. The second period is intermixed with, the Persian and Grecian history, and extends to the death of Alexander the Great, \vhich happened in the year 3681. The third period is that in which a new monarchy was formed in Egypt by the Lagidse, or Ptolemies, descendants from Lagus, to the death of Cleopatra, the last queen of Egypt, in 3974. 228 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. PEEIOD I. According to the historians of Egypt, first gods, and afterwards demi-gods, or heroes, governed it successively through a series of several thousand years. These were succeeded by men who became rulers, or kings, in Egypt. The first king of whom any mention is made was MENES (called in Scripture Misraim), who was the son of Ham, or Cham. Herodotus informs us, that he protected, from the inundations of the Nile, the ground upon which the city of Memphis was erected. Menes is also said to have been a great general, who made warlike expeditions into foreign countries ; and he is said to have fallen a prey, at last, to the voracity of a hippopotamus. He was so great a monarch, that the people worshipped him as a god after his death. Little is known of the history of Egypt for a long time after the reign of Menes. The priests recited to Herodotus the names of three hundred and thirty sovereigns, his successors. The name of one of these kings was BUSIBIS, who built the city of Thebes. The name of another was OSYMAJTDYAS, who raised many magnificent edifices. His mausoleum displayed uncommon magnificence ; it was encompassed with a circle of gold a cubit in breadth, and three hundred and sixty-five cubits in circumference, each of which showed the rising and setting of the sun, moon, and stars. Thus, so early as this reign, the year was divided into three hundred and sixty-five days, as at present. HISTORY OF ANCIENT EGYPT. 229 UCIIOEEUS, one of the successors of Osymandyas, built the city of Memphis ; and MORRIS, another king of Egypt, made the famous lake which went by his name. Egypt was governed by its native princes for many years ; but at last an invasion was made by a pastoral people from India, who took possession of a great part of Lower Egypt, but Upper Egypt remained unconquered. These foreign princes governed for about two hundred and sixty years. Upper Egypt, otherwise called Thebias, was the most southern part. Middle Egypt, or Heptanomis, so called from the seven nomi, or districts, it con- tained. Lower Egypt comprehended the delta of the Nile, and all the country as far as the Red Sea. Under SESOSTBIS, all Egypt became one kingdom. Under these princes, called Pharaoh in Scripture, a name common to all the kings of Egypt, Abraham arrived there, with his wife Sarah, as detailed in the book of Genesis. At length the native Egyptian princes rebelled against their tyrants, and, after a tedious warfare, drove them out of the rest of Egypt, and shut them up in AVATUES, to which place they had retired with all their cattle and plunder. A treaty was afterwards concluded with them, and they departed northward, and finally settled on the borders of CANAAN, and it is supposed became the PALISTINES, or Philistines, mentioned in the Bible. In the language of western Asia, the term Pali denotes shepherds, and stan, or stahn, means land ; accordingly the compound word Pali-stan sig- nifies the country of shepherds. 230 THE nOLIDAT BOOK. The expedition of the shepherd kings into Egypt is recorded in one of the sacred books of the Hindoos ; and it is now the opinion of the ablest writers, that the shepherds who invaded Egypt had migrated from a distant country in the east. From the Hindoo records we also gather, that one of these kings, Huchma, so named from his immense wealth, which he collected by oppressing the Egyptians, built three of the pyramids, which are called " three mountains ; or, the mountain of gold, of silver, and of gems." The pyramids, it is presumed, were originally cased with yellow, white, or spotted marble. THETHMOSIS, or AHOSIS, having expelled the shep- herd kings, reigned in Lower Egypt. After this an Ethiopian woman, named NITOCEIS, became queen of this country. Her brother had been murdered by the Egyptians, and she resolved to avenge him. For this purpose Queen Xitocris built a palace under ground, and invited the murderers of her bro- ther to a banquet. The subterranean hall, where the banquet was prepared, was brilliantly illuminated with torches. The guests were the principal men in. the kingdom. The scene was magnificent, as they sat feasting in all the pomp of Egyptian grandeur ; but, suddenly, a roaring sound was heard overhead, and a deluge of water burst into the hall. Queen Nitocris> had caused a river to flow through a secret passage, and it extin- guished the torches, and drowned all the company at the banquet. HISTOET OF ANCIENT EGTPT. 231 CHAPTER II. OF SESOSTEIS, CHEOPS AKD CEPHREN, PSAMMETICHtTS, A1O) OTHER KINGS. LONG after the reign of Thethmosis, Joseph was sold as a slave into Egypt, and it was in the reign of, Sameses-J^iemnon that the deliverance of the Israelites from bondage took place. One of the most renowned inonarchs that ever governed Egypt was SESOSXEIS ; but whose son he was, or what was the time at which he lived, is not exactly known. He was, however, a mighty conqueror, and went against the Arabians, and is supposed to have subdued the Lybians. Sesostris formed the design of conquering the world, and set out from Egypt with more than half a million of foot soldiers, twenty-four thousand horse, and twenty-seven thousand chariots. With this immense army he overran and subdued a great part of Asia ; he advanced into India, and went beyond the Ganges. In various parts of Asia Minor, and, no doubt, in other places to which his expedition penetrated, he caused marble pillars to be erected, and inscriptions to be engraved on them, so that future ages might not forget his renown. The following was the inscription on most of the pillars : " SESOSTRIS, king of kings, and lord of lords, subdued this country by the power of Ids arms." These marble pillars were seen by Herodotus, but they have long since crumbled into the dust. The history of Sesostris is, after all, so very obscure, that some writers have doubted his existence. 232 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Like most other persons who become great and powerful, Sesostris was very proud, and delighted himself, when he went to the temple, in causing the tributary princes whom he had conquered to be har- nessed to his chariot, like beasts, and so made to draw it along. At last, however, the proud Sesostris became blind, and, probably, thinking life no longer valuable, and being unable to bear his miserable condition, he committed suicide, after having reigned thirty-three years. After this there were many other Egyptian kings : PHEEON succeeded Sesostris about the year 2547; after him, PEOTEUS lived, in whose reign the siege of Troy took place ; then CHEOPS and CEPHEEN, two brothers, who exhibited the most barbarous inhuma- nity, particularly in forcing their subjects to build several pyramids, to gratify a senseless ambition, in immortalizing their names. In the year of the world 3026, SESACH, or SHESHAH, lived ; it was to him that Jeroboam fled, to avoid the wrath of Solomon. This Sesach, in the fifth year of the reign of Jeroboam, marched against Jerusalem, and, having plundered it, returned. After the reign of ZEEAH, who was king of Ethiopia as well as of Egypt, of ANTSIS, who built several magnificent temples, of SETHON, who caused himself to be consecrated high priest of Vulcan, and of THAEACA the Egyptians, not being able to agree about the succession, were two years in a state of anarchy, during which there were great disorder and confusion among them. HISTOEY OF ANCIENT EGYPT. 233 At last, twelve of the principal noblemen con- spiring together, seized upon the kingdom, and divided it amongst themselves, into as many parts ; they reigned fifteen years in great harmony, and, at a common expense, built the famous labyrinth', which was a pile of building, consisting of twelve large palaces, having as many edifices under ground as appeared above it. After this, one of the twelve kings seized on the whole of the country ; his name was PSAHMETICIIUS ; he entered Palestine, but could not take it. Psamme- tichus was succeeded by PHARAOH-NECHO, who attempted to join the Nile to the Eed Sea, by cutting a canal ; but was obliged to desist, at the command of the oracle. In his reign, however, certain navigators, in order to discover the coasts of Africa, went successfully round that continent, and, the third year after their setting out, returned to Egypt through the straits of Gibraltar. Necho, marching through Judea, and defeating King Josiah, advanced to the Euphrates, where he defeated the Babylonians, took Carchemish, a large HISTORY OF AKCIEKT EUTPT. 241 place. There were three pyramids iii Egypt more famous than the rest ; these were built on a rock, having a square base cut on the outside, as so many steps, and decreasing gradually to the summit. They were built with stones of a prodigious size. The summit of the pyramid, which seemed from below to be a fine point, was a broad platform, eighteen feet square, composed of nine massy stones. The base of the second pyramid is six hundred and eighty-four feet, the height four hundred and fifty-six feet. The ruins of Luxor are almost unrivalled in gran- deur. The temple of Luxor is a beautiful object, equal to any ruin in Egypt. Its portico presents two of the most beautiful obelisks in the world, each eighty feet high, and composed of a block of the finest granite. Behind them are two colossal statues, now defaced, and deeply sunk in the sand, which must have been forty feet high. The interior of this temple is equally grand, and presents to view upwards of two hundred columns, some of them ten feet in diameter. The whole are covered with paintings and hiero- glyphics. The most curious of the Egyptian antiquities is the spliinx ; it was originally the gigantic head of a woman on the body of a lion ; it was about one hundred ana twenty-five feet long, and the elevation of its head above the sand is about eighty-five feet. The head- dress has the appearance of an old-fashioned wig. On a plain near Thebes are two enormous stone statues, somewhat like a man and woman; they are forty feet high. One of them was evidently the vocal statue of Memnou. The head of this has been brought 242 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Head of Memnon. to England by Belzoni, and is now in the British Museum. The city of Thebes appears to have been more magnificent than any other city, either in ancient or modern times. It was called the city of a hun- dred gates; and such was the immense population, that through each of these gates, in time of war, marched two hundred armed chariots, and two thousand soldiers. There was a king of Egypt, named MEMNON, supposed to be the same with Amenophis, in honour of whom a temple, with a gigantic statue, was erected, of which some remains are still to be seen at Thebes. This statue was said to utter a joyful sound at sunrise, and a mournful sound when the sun set. The cut above represents the head of this famous statue. The tombs of Thebes are in the mountains which rise behind the city for a distance of nearly six miles. They are excavated out of the solid rock. Various entrances lead into large apartments, in which are placed the sarcophagi, or stone coffins, of noble per- sons, beautifully enriched with paintings and hierogly- phics. The tombs of the kings are more remarkable and magnificent ; they are situated in a deep valley, called the Valley of the Tombs. You enter spacious apartments cut in the rock, and here behold hun- dreds of the ancient kings of Egypt lying around you, surrounded by rich paintings and sculpture. HISTORY Or ANCIENT EGYPT. 243 Thebes was ruined in the time of Cambyses, king of Persia ; yet the remains of the city are still visible, and are scattered over a space of twenty-seven miles on each side of the Nile. Sacred Hawk and Beetle. The ruins of Tentyra cover a space of half a mile in length, and those of the temple are remarkably grand the portico, above all things, inspiring astonishment. It con- sists of six columns, the capitals of which are formed by colossal heads of Isis, to whom the temple was erected. The height of the portico is sixty feet, and entirely covered over with hieroglyphics. The in- terior is still more beautiful, aud abounds in mythological figures and paintings, some of which represent the twelve signs of the zodiac. B2 24* TITE nOLTDAT 3300E. On the last page is the representation of the c?.pltnl from one of the pillars of the temple, and below w bave one of the symbols engraved on the pillar: Among the chief antiquities of Egypt are th&- obelisks, which are generally covered with hiero- glyphics. They are often above a hundred feet higb r and have been found in almost every part of the-^ ancient cities of Egypt. cr the convenience of trade there was built. near- Alexandria, in an island called Pharos, a tower, which* Lore the same name. At the top of this tower was> kept a fire, to light such ships as sailed by night near those dangerous coasts, which were full of sands and. shoals. The architecture of the Egyptians was very remark- able. No instance of an Egyptian arch has been, discovered. As regards the ornaments of their pillars, they seem to have had their origin in the lotus, os- niSTOTlY OF AXCIEST EGYPT. 245 -water-lily, and palm. Sometimes figures were used as pilasters, as here seen. Such are some of the wonders i~^ of the ancient Egyptian archi- tecture and arts. No less in- teresting "would be an account of Modern Egypt, and the disco- veries of recent travellers. Egypt was till lately a province >of Turkey. It is now an inde- pendent state, governed by a Pasha. Its inhabitants are Copts, the descendants of the .ancient Egyptians ; Arab tribes, conquered at various times by .the Turks ; and a race of Turks, the remains of the people who "were long masters of this coun- try. Very few Europeans can 'DFATIIEU'S STOHIES. another kick and a squall, and at the same time planted a blow on his mother's eye. " Dear little creature," said she, " he is in a state of high convulsions and fever he will never recover." 15ut Limby did recover, and in a few clays was run- ning about the house, and the master of it ; there wag nobody to be considered, nobody to be consulted,, nobody to be attended to, but Limby Luir.py. CHAPTER II. LIMBY grew up big and strong ; he had everything- his own way. One day, when he was at dinner with* his father and mother, perched upon a double chair, with his silver knife and fork, and silver mug to drink from, he amused himself by playing drums on his plate- with the mug. " Don't make that noise, Limby, my dear," said his father. " Dear little lamb," said his mother, " let Lim amuse himself. Limby, have some pudding?" " No ; Limby no pudding drum ! drum ! drum !" A piece of pudding was, however, put on Limby'& plate, but he kept on drumming as before. At last lie drummed the bottom of the mug into the soft pudding, to which it stuck, and by which means it was scattered all over the carpet. "Limby, my darling!" said his mother; and the servant was called to wipe Limby 's mug, and pick the pudding up from the floor. Limby would not have his mug wiped, and floundered about, and upset th& cruet-stand and the mustard on the table-cloth. '254 THE HOLIDAY TOOS. "Oh! Limby Lumpy; naughty boy," said his father. " Don't speak so cross to the child ; he is but a child," said his mother: "I do not like to hear you speak so cross to the child." " I tell you what it is," said his father, " I think the boy does as he likes ; but I do not want to interfere." Limby now sat still, resolving what to do next. lie was not hungry, having been stuffed with a large piece of plum-cake about an hour before dinner ; but he wanted something to do, and could not sit still. Presently a saddle of mutton was brought on the table. When Limby saw this he set up a crow of delight. " Limby ride," said he, " Limby ride ;" and rose up in his chair, as if to reach the dish. " Tes, my ducky, it shall have some mutton," said his mamma ; and immediately gave him a slice, cut up into small pieces. That was not it. Limby pushed ihat on to the floor, and cried out, " Limby on meat ! Limby ride on meat!" His mamma could not think what he meant. At last, however, his father recollected that he had been in the habit of giving him a ride occasionally, first on his foot, sometimes on the scroll end of the sofa, at other times on the top of the easy chair. Once he put him on a dog, and more than once on the horse's saddle ; in short, he had been in the habit of perching him on various things ; and now Limby, hearing this was a saddle of mutton, wanted to take a ride on it. " Limby on Limby ride on bone," said the child, in a whimper. 1IY ORA^DPATnEE's STORIES. 255 " Did you ever tear ?" said the father. " What an extraordinary child !" said the mother ; " how clever, too, to know it was like a saddle the little dear. 'No, no Limby grease frock, Limby." But Limby cared nothing about a greasy frock, not he he was used enough to that; and therefore roared out more lustily than ever for a ride on the mutton. " Did you ever know such a child ? "WTiat a dear, determined spirit !" " He is a child of an uncommon mind," said his mother. " Limby, dear Limby, dear silence ! silence!" The truth was, Limby made such a roaring, that neither father nor mother could get their dinners, and scarcely knew whether they were eating beef or mutton. " It is impossible to let him ride on the mutton," said his father : " quite impossible !" " "Well, but you might just put him astride the dish, just to satisfy him; you can take care his legs or clothes do not go into the gravy." "Anything for a quiet life," said the father. " "What does Limby want ? Limby ride ? " " Limby on bone ! Limby ride on meat ! " " Shall I put him across ? " said Mr. Lumpy. " Just for one moment," said his mamma : " it won't iiurt the mutton." The father rose and took Limby from his chair, and, with the greatest caution, held his son's legs astride, so that they might hang on either side of the dish without touching it, "just to satisfy him," as he 25G THE HOLIDAY BOOK. said, " that they might dine iri quiet," and was about to withdraAV him from it immediately. But Limby vras not to be cheated in that way, he wished to feel the saddle under him, and accordingly forced himself down upon it ; but feeling it rather warmer than was agreeable, started, and lost his balance, and fell down among the dishes, soused in melted butter, cauli- flower, and gravy floundering, and kicking, and screaming, to the danger of glasses, jugs, dishes, and everything else on the table. " My child! my child!" said his mamma; "oh! save my child! " She snatched him up, and pressed his greasy garments close to the body of her best silk gown. Neither father nor mother wanted any more dinner after that. As to Limby, he was as frisky afterwards as if nothing had happened ; and, about half an hour from the time of this disaster, cried for his dinner. M mil t CD 06 O rH IPICTUEE LESSON. THE FAKM. f , OOK at this picture, and tell V me what it contains : the cen- tre of it represents a FARM YABD. On the right you observe a ktm, with men thrashing : in a field adjoining, plough- ing and harrowing is going on. In the distance is a wind-mill. On the other side of the picture, we see hay- making ; and in various parts of the yard are fowls, ducks, geese, turJcies, horses, cows, pigs, &c. Around the plate are various implements of hus- bandry. In the first corner, No. 1, is the soiver ; in the opposite corner, No. 6, is the mower ; in corner No. 7 is the reaper; and, in the right-hand lower corner is the thrasher. The side plate, No. 13, represents the machinery of a wind-mill, and the opposite side plate is the picture of the large wheel of a water-mill. Besides these, we have the plough, No. 2 ; the liar- row, No. 3 ; the roller, No. 4 ; the drill, No. 5 ; the sickle, No. 8 ; the scythe, No. 9 ; \hs> flail, No. 10 ; and the ivinnowing-machine, No. 11. I will now tell you something about these things. PLOUGHING, SOWING, AND HEAPING. "When the crops are cleared off the ground, the farmer manures his land; that is, having collected large quantities of dung, mould, straw, leaves, and s 258 THE HOLIDAY BOOK:. various kinds of rubbish, it is carted into the field, and thrown down in heaps at regular distances : men then come with their broad iron forks, and spread it over the soil. The next operation is ploughing. If you look at the plough, you will see that it has pointed and cutting irons at its under part, so made and fixed, that they not only cut the soil, as they pass through it, but also turn it over. The plough is drawn by one or more horses, driven by a boy, while the ploughman guides it, as seen in the picture. After ploughing, the ground is harrowed, that is, it is raked all over ; but as it would be impossible to rake large fields in the same way as we rake a garden, a machine is made, called a harrow, which has sharp teeth, like a rake, and this is drawn over the ground by horses, as shown in the picture. Sometimes the ground requires to be rolled, in con- sequence of the clods being large. A large roller is drawn over the field, which breaks the clods, and renders the whole surface smooth and uniform. After the ground has been thus prepared for the reception of seed, the sower comes and scatters the seed with an even hand. A skilful sower throws the seed with such exactness, that it comes up with great regularity. In this task the sower commits the seed to the earth with faith in the promises of the Creator. Here is a song the sower may be supposed to sing : SOWING- SEED. Now, my seed, thy grave is made, In the silent chamber laid, Thou may'st slumber lightly ; PICTUEE LESS02T. 259 May the sun its radiance lend, And the dews of heaven descend On thy pillow nightly. So sleep on, my seedling dear, Sweetly sleep, nor dream of fear ; Soon from darkness waking, Morning sunlight, bright as gold, Shall thy blossoms all unfold, In the spring-time breaking. I, some day, shall sink like thee, Hands of love shall bury me, Heaping cold earth o'er me ; But, when GOD from yonder skies, Bids the slumbering dust arise, I shall wake to glory. CHAPTER II. SEED -SOWING, ETC. SEED is sometimes sown with a machine, called a drill, which sows it very quickly. The seed is put into a trough, or box, above, and dribbles out into the furrows from little spouts below, as it is drawn along over the ground. When the corn is up, it requires to be weeded ; and a number of women and children go out into the fields with hoes, and hoe up every weed, and even some of the corn, if it happens to grow too thickly. After this, the corn grows till the sun ripens it, then it turns yellow ; the seed in the ear becomes hard, and the harvest commences. The reaper now comes with the sickle, and the corn is cut down, and bound up in bundles, called sheaves; 2GO THE HOLIDAY BOOK. several of these bundles are placed in a row, side by side, when they form what is called a shock. After a short time, the corn thus sown, grown, and ripened by the sun, is carted away to the barn, or it piled up in large stacks, where it remains till it is wanted for sale or use. The next operation is thrashing. The corn is spread out on the floor of the barn, and beat with long rods, having a leathern joint in the middle ; these sticks or rods are called flails. If the corn was to be beaten with a stick without a joint, it could not be so easily struck, and it would be harder work for the thrasher. Sometimes corn is thrashed by a machine, called a thrashing machine. After the corn is thrashed, it has to be separated from the chaff. This operation is performed by what is called a winnowing machine, which, by raising a cur- rent of air within it, blows the chaff away, and the wheat, by its greater weight, falls to the bottom. The corn has now to be ground. It is taken to the wilier, who grinds it, and sifts it, for a certain sum per quarter. It is thus converted into flour, bran, and middlings. CHAPTEE III. OP MILLS AND GRINDING. THERE are two sorts of mills, wind-mills and water- mills. Wind-mills have been invented about six hun- dred years. Before this time corn was ground by hand, between stones, and is so in India at the pre- sent day. PICTURE LESSON. 2G1 The interior of a windmill is a very simple, primitive looking thing. The sails outside are so arranged as to move easily round and round the outside to suit the changes of the wind ; they are turned round on their axis by the force of the wind, which is ex- ceedingly strong at times ; these sails communicate motion to the upper mill-stone, inside of the box ; this stone turns on another, called the lower or nether mill-stone. The corn is placed in a bin, or box, above ; and by the motion of the mill-machinery, gradually dribbles through the trough, and enters the hole in the cen- tre of the box, where the mill-stones are. It passes through a hole in the stone also, and thus gets between the two mill-stones. As the upper stone turns with great rapidity, and as it does not quite touch the lower stone, the corn is in consequence, as it passes between the stones, bruised and broken into flour. From the circular motion of the stone, the flour is carried outside of it, and comes out at a hole; passes into the hopper, and falls into the bin. The meal, or flour, has now to be dressed or sifted ; this, the machinery of the mill performs. There are several dressers of various degrees of fineness : into these, one after another, the flour passes, and is there shaken and sifted. The fine flour comes out first; then the middlings ; and, lastly, the coarse husk of the wheat, called Iran. THANKSGIVING- FOR EXISTENCE. BLESSED be thy name, Lord! my Creator. (^ Blessed be thy name for ever and ever. Thou didst call me from nothingness, from the deep sleep of the dust, that I might breathe the air of life, and drink the light of thy glorious sun. "When I look around, what multitudes of living things salute mine eyes. The earth is full of beauty ; and the voice of delight and joyousness is heard on every side. Thou hast given me a mind, to contemplate thee ; and when I gaze on the bright sky, or the fair earth, or the deep sea, I read the wonders of thy power, thy wisdom, and thy love, and know that THOU art GOD. Thou hast given me a heart, to melt with love, and to rejoice in goodness ; thou hast given me feelings, to spring up like beauteous flowers, and blossom in thy smile ; and hopes, and joys, to live beyond the grave. Blessed be thy glorious name. "When I feel the full burst of joy in the early morn- ing when my heart is full of gaysomeness and mirth when my limbs are fresh with vigour, and rejoice in their own strength then, Lord! my Creator, let me praise and bless thy name ; for all my joy, and health, and strength, is thine. Thou providest for me daily ; the air I breathe is full of life and sweetness ; my daily bread is joyful to me ; the eye makes beauty where it looks ; and tho ear turns barren sounds to harmony. THANKSGIVING FOU EXISTENCE. 263 Thy hand is ever open to my wants, and thy bless* ings fall like the sunlight and the rain ; thine ear never faileth to listen to my prayers. Be thou the guide and comfort of my early youth. Lord, what a gift is MIND ; surely it is a shadow of thyself. Great and marvellous is its power, its glory, and its strength; but all it hath of good is thine ! Thou hast given me sense, that I may enjoy ; under- standing, that I may gather knowledge ; and reason, that I may distinguish truth from error, good from evil! Enlighten my mind, Lord ! with thy brightness, which is truth itself, that I may cleave to the good, and abhor the evil. Teach me to know thee in spirit and in truth, so that I may show forth thy glory in all my works and ways. Let me make an offering to thee, O Lord ! of the blossoms of my early youth. Ere the days come, " in which I shall say, I have no pleasure in them ;" let me praise thee in the freshness of my heart, and think of thee in all isy moments of joy. Like the early dawn of a bright day to come, let my youth be glorious ; so that, in the mid-day, I may find rest and peace, and at even time there may be light. Blessed be thy name, O God! my Creator. Let all things bless thee and magnify thee, for thy good- ness ; world without end. 23* BIBLE LESSONS. "'Children, obey your parents in the Lord." Ernrs. vi. EEMEMBBB, my dear child, that once, and not very long ago, you were a little baby ; you were weak and helpless; you could do nothing for yourself; you could neither eat, drink, run, or walk, without assis- tance. At this time, my child, you were fed from your mother's breast ; she carried you in her arms, and you often slept in them ; she danced you with delight on her knee, and with her hands ; she kissed you a hun- dred times a day, and touched your little cheeks with- her finger, and longed to see you smile. During this first stage of your existence you were' often fretful and cross, yet she was scarcely ever angry with you. "When you wept, she only kissed you the more ; when you ran into danger, she placed herself between you and the danger ; when you com- mitted faults, she made excuses for you, which no< other person would. She has sat for hours together, when you have been asleep ; and if only a little fly alighted on your cheek she seemed angry with that little fly ; she could not bear the slightest thing to hurt or annoy her darling child. When you have been sick she has sat, with tears in. her eyes, night after night, yet she never seemed tired of watching; and when the first sign of returning health has appeared, her heart has been ready to burst with the fulness of its joy. DIBLE LESSONS. 2G5 Do not forget a mother's love there is nothing so pure, so strong, or so holy, in the human heart; ifc stands alone in this earth, like some heaven-bora flower blooming in a "wilderness. The love which others bear to us have many springs, but that which a mother bears to her child has only one. Tour mother loved you for yourself alone ; her love was a divine instinct within her. How will you requite this love ? "Will you slight it will you scorn it will you try it with disobedi- ence will you thwart it by being froward will you, in return for it, give back contempt and scorn ? No ! Give, in thy blooming youth, love for love ; make thy mother's joy thy delight. Her heart con- tinually yearns for thee ; do not turn her yearnings into bitter sorrow. There is but one thing she lives for on earth ; that is, to have a loving and a dutiful child. If she finds not this, she hath no other hopes and joys except in heaven. Love her she prays for thee nightly, Love her not an hour in the day but she thinks of thee. Honour her with obedience ; speak kindly and lovingly to her ; bear her reproofs with humility ; listen to her admo- nitions ; "bear with her infirmities : so shalt thou be "beloved of God. The love thou givest to thy mother falls down in showers of plenty on thy head. 2G6 A SISTER IN HEAVEN TO A BEOTHEB ON EAETH. BROTHEK, dear brother, from this sphere I saw thee drop the silent tear, And weep for me ; While T, entranced in glory bright, Became a child of joy and light Why weep for me ? Brother, dear brother, I await Thy spirit here, from earth's estate That hour will come ; Then ever deem that here on high, Thou hast, in full eternity, A joyful home. Oh ! dearest brother, didst thou love Thy sister once, thy love now prove, This world forsake ; Flee youthful follies, guilt, and sin ; 33 e clear without, and pure within, For my dear sake. And faint not in thy soul's dark load, Here, in this fair and bright abode, A Saviour pleads For thee, and all that love his name ; And as on earth, in heaven the same, Still intercedes ! Then live, dear brother, now on earth, And pant for virtue and for worth : Thy sister's voice, From heaven, upon thee now would call, To make religion, all in all, Thy only choice ! So shalt thou come, and share with me Heaven's fadeless pure felicity, On that bright shore, Where angels shout, and seraphs sing, Glory to their eternal King, For evermore! TEACHINGS FEOM NATTJEE. NIGHT. d( T is NIGHT : look at the bright stars ; they (^5 seem like funeral torches in the temple of the sky, lit for the entombing of the departed day. How bright, how beautiful they are ; yet they are bora of darkness, rblossoms of midnight flowers. The clouds are gathering like a pall. And now the bat, in the timid flight of its cobweb wing, rouses the sleeping beetle up again. Its drony buzzings, like the sad rollings of a muffled drum, make the night melancholy. Yet, not so the stars appear again. Hark ! hear you not the nightingale ? she seems to chaunt a requiem over the slain. Tet, no : her song is far too joyous it is a song of praise for the solemn quietude of night. Now all is hushed, and calm, and still ; between the pauses of the nightingale how sweet the time. Lift up thy heart, my little child lift up thy heart, for God is very near. He comes in the soft and quiet hour. When thou art alone he is with thee ; when thy soul would rise towards him, then his guardian wings encompass thee. Is not this a time to Avalk with GOD ? Yes : in the silence, in the stillness, in the solemness of night, thy spirit will have favour given to it, if thou callest upon his name. "When the gloom thickens, and the stars hide them- selves, when the black pall of darkness hangs heavily .over the earth, then wilt thou have light about thee. 208 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Where God is, there can be no gloom his Spirit in- thy heart will make all things bright and fair. Thy heart is a little world, my child. When the Spirit of all goodness dwells therein, it turns its night to day, its darkness into light, its gloom to glory ; foul thoughts flee before it, dark fears are lost in hope*- and hope itself in faith. My little child ! know this, that, as without dark- ness, we could not see the stars ; so we can only know the glory of our God, by feeling first the natural 1 darkness of our minds. When we are sensible of this darkness, then the light appears ; the darkest hour is just before the dawn. When we feel our dark estate, then a ray of mercy comes, and the Sun of Righteousness will arisej. with healing on his wings. THE DAWN. THE night is spent. Look towards the east, how dimly burn the stars ; they seem to faint and to fade in the pale light now walking up the sky. It is the dawn the bright herald which the sun sends before him, to tell of his approach ; the stars seem to know it, and fall back, as at the coming of their lord. Now comes he on in prouder pomp : the clouds put on their gayest liveries ; they deck themselves with purple and with gold. A thousand rosy banners float on the glowing sky ; the blue zenith smiles a welcome-;. TEACHINGS FECIT NATURE. 2G9 and the clarion cock, with his shrill trumpet voice, cries out, "Make way!" The music of the woods bursts forth: the russet thrush whistles a roundelay ; the piping redbreast trills her melodious song ; then chaunt the rooks like monkish choristers their matin hymns ; while the all- joyous lark seems the sweet octave of the choir. Now, like the glittering spears of armed hosts, the rays of the bright sun dart upward ; they glitter round the mountain's brow in all the glory of a tournament, and flash their splendour through the rugged woods. The billows of the sea are sparkling ; the sunlight calls them from their sleep ; they shake their glittering pennons in the wind, and shout a rapturous welcome. All is delight and joy : the trembling leaves have gladness the hills, the floods a thousand insect forms now fill the air with rapture ; all the wide earth rejoices at the rising of the sun. So should thy heart receive the coming of the Lord, my little child, full of delight and gladness, full of unfeigned rapture, open wide its portals in the min- strelsy of song ; sing him the roundelay of welcome let him enter in the joyousness of praise. Q-od walks in Eden, in the beautiful, in the glo- rious, where all is fair and lovely, where all is glad, and full of joy : He is, himself, all glory, joy, and goodness. Thy soul is in its dawn, my little one ; pray that thy mind may be an Eden, in which God may walk. Oh ! be joyful in the Lord, while thine eye is glad, and thy heart beats happy music. Praise him, ths Ck>d of thy salvation ; seek him, and love him, and call his name. NATURAL FTSTOEY. THE STORK. THE stork is a very interesting bird, both on account of its uses, its habits, and its disposition ; for you must know there is as great a difference, even in disposition, among birds and beasts, as there is among girls and boys. Storks live mostly in marshy situations, and feed principally upon reptiles, frogs, and their spawn. They are in many countries protected by the inhabitants, from the service they perform, by the destruction of many noxious animals. They are also cherished in consequence of the familiarity of their habits. By showing confidence in man they have obtained his love, and thus they may be seen, in some countries where they abound, nestling on roofs and chimneys, in gardens, and even in the buildings of the most crowded cities. NATUKAL HISTORY. 271 The Dutch venerate the stork for its friendly offices ; the Arabs treat it with hospitality ; the Turks and eastern tribes consider it as a sacred bird ; and at Constantinople you may observe the storks building their nests in the streets. Some storks are very fond of children, and like to play with them. I saw, in Holland, a tame stork join a party of children, and run its turn when touched; it seemed also to distinguish so well the child that was to pursue the rest, as, along with the others, to be on its guard. Among the moral qualities of these birds for you must know that even birds have moral qualities can be discovered gratitude and fidelity, filial and parental affection. "With regard to gratitude, they seem thankful for kind treatment, and appear to love those who are kind to them, for they will suifer occasional insults without resentment. This proves that they are grateful. Their constancy is shown in their faithful attach- ment to each other ; they seem to live in mutual love, and never forsake each other ; they go long voyages without separating, and share what they have toge- ther, just as brothers and sisters should. The tender regard that storks have for their young has been proverbial from the most remote antiquity. The mother-bird feeds her offspring with the greatest attention, and is scarcely ever absent from them; when they begin to fly, she keeps close by their side, and, as it were, trains them to the wing at all events, she protects them from all danger. It is well attested, that at a fire, which broke out 272 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. in Delft, in Holland, a stork, which had built its nest on the burning house, returning with some food for its young, and seeing the danger to which they were exposed, the fire having almost reached her nest, made several attempts to save them ; but finding all her efforts vain, she at last spread her wings over them, and, in that endearing attitude, expired with her young in the flames. The young storks have also been known to exhibit the greatest affection for their aged and infirm parents, attending upon them, and feeding them when old. Observing this, the ancient Greeks enacted a law, to compel children to support their parents in their old age. By storks, then, we may be taught lessons of grati- tude, affection, and constancy. Children should never forget how much they owe to their parents: and although they may not be called upon to support them when old, yet they can show their affection by being very kind to them, by consulting their wishes, by at- tending to their desires. A good son or daughter has an opportunity, many times a day, in saying and doing things, to give their aged parents pleasure and satis- faction. Remember this, my dear children, that when parents grow old, the only thing which will make their later days happy is the affection and obedience of their children. "Without this, riches and honours are nothing to them ; but, with it, the lowliest cottage, and the hardest fare, would be welcome. 271 GOD, THE INSCRUTABLE. FATIIEE ETKKXAI, when I think of theo My spirit sinks ; The blaze of thy divinity, Too much for pure humanity, Makes vain thought a shade ; The mind, o'erpower'd with glory, shrinks, Shrinks in thy presence, all so bright : The soul is dazzled, and the senses fade Like darkness into light. Yet, though my spirit seems in glory lost, And though thy ways Cannot be scanned or measured, and a host Of thy perfections, and thy wisdom most Around me blaze ; Yet thy diviner love upon my heart, In full, yet gentle softness glows, As the sweet rays of evening impart Their beauty to the rose. Yes ; though my soul in glory still may blench, Yet in thy love I languish, and my ardent longings quench, Con draw a comfort and a solace thence ; And when above I soar on wings of wondering ecstasy, Oh ! there it is I sink into my rest, As the exhausted lark drops from the sky Into his native nest. PICTURE LESSON. HOUSE BUILDING. HAT a strange tiling it would be if we had no houses to live in, and were forced to sleep on the tops of trees, in caves, or among the clefts and crannies of rocks and mountains. Many ages ago, mankind, then in a savage state, were obliged to make use of such wild retreats ; they had not learned to ~build houses : and were, in this respect, not so well off as the birds, which, you know, mostly manage to build a nice warm nest, in which they bring up their young. The first houses were, in all probability, cut out of the sides of crags or banks ; after this it was found, perhaps, more advantageous to build them of branches of trees, set up on end, and leaning together in a point at the top ; movable houses were also made of the skins of beasts, stretched over a pole of a similar form. These were the earliest tents ; but how long it is ago since the eastern nations, who were the firs inhabitants of this earth, had such kinds of habita- tions, is not known. "We know that, at the present day, all savage nations have rude houses. The Icelanders build them of snow ; and the inhabitants of America, of the South Sea Islands, of the wilds of Africa, and New Holland, form their huts in the rudest manner. We know, also, that the Irish mud cabins, and the Scotch hovels, and some of the English cottages, are not a great deal better than the huts of savages. It is of interest for us to inquire how houses are PICTUEE LESSONS. 275 built, and of the materials of which they are made ; and of the different styles of architecture : for houses and temples were built of different forms in different ages, and are now very different in Asia to what they are in Europe. THE PAETS OF A HOUSE. Houses have walls, roofs, doors, chimneys, rooms, passages, stairs, floors, closets, sinks, cellars, pantries, kitchens. The roof of a house is the top of it, and is built aslant, so that when it rains the water may run off. A frame-work of wood is made, which is first covered with laths, and afterwards with tiles or slates. In hot countries, where there is little rain, the roofs of houses are flat. The ivalls of a house are made either of bricks or stones, laid one on the top of the other, and joined together by cement or mortar. The chimneys proceed from the fireplace to the top of the house, and come out through the roof, above which they are carried up several feet ; on their top is an earthen pot, called a chimney-pot. The use of a chimney is to carry off the smoke. Chimneys have not been thought of above a thousand years ; before this time the smoke used to go out at a hole in the roof. This is the case even now, in the worst of Scotch and Irish cabins ; but, in England, I never saw a house without a chimney. The doors of houses are made of deal or oak, and sometimes of mahogany ; they swing on hinges, and have locks and catches to fasten them ; their use is to T 2 276 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. keep the cold out, and to connect one room with another, or the house with the street. The rooms of houses are of various kinds. The houses of very poor people serve them for parlour and kitchen, and bed-room, which is very unhealthy. The house of a tradesmen generally consists of a shop, a back parlor, a drawing-room, and several bed-rooms, with kitchen and cellar. The houses of people who are rich consist of a greats variety of apartments : a saloon, a hall, a picture gallery, a large dining-room, drawing-room, library, dressing-rooms, breakfast-rooms, and many others. The house or dwelling of a king, a prince, or a bishop, is called a palace, which is generally very large, and contains many other apartments, fitted up in the most splendid manner. The passages in a house lead from one room to another ; the stairs lead to the bed-chambers, or other upper apartments ; the floors of the rooms are gene- rally made of deal or oak. The former are usually covered with painted canvas, called oil-cloth, and the latter with carpet. The cellar of a house is generally under ground, and is used for keeping coals, wood, beer, and wine in. Closets are for the purpose of placing clothes and linen in security; the pantry and larder are for provisions of various kinds ; and the kitchen is for the- servants to live in, and to cook our food. OF BUILDING MATEHIALS. The materials for house building are stone, lrick f wood, mortar, tile, slate, iron, lead, zinc, and glass. PICTURE LESSORS. 277 Stone is found in large mountain masses, and is dug out of pits or holes, made by the workmen, called quarries. Some of the most famous of these quarries are at the Isle of Portland and at Bath, from which the Portland -and Bath stone is procured. Bricks are made of day. The clay is first dug from the earth, then ground in a mill, then moulded into square shapes, then burnt in a brick-kiln, to make it dry and hard. Some bricks are burnt in clamps. In burning bricks they are arranged in a kind of oven, open at the top, called the kiln, and a fire is lighted underneath. When bricks are burned in clamps, they are arranged in long masses, of about a hundred thousand together, with passages between them, in which ashes, small coal, and brushwood, are placed. The burning, in this manner, generally takes several weeks. Mortar is made of lime, and lime is made of limestone, broken and burnt in a kiln ; after which process it is then called lime. This lime is then mixed with water and sand. The water causes the lime to fall to pieces, and, mixing with the sand, it thus forms a kind of paste, Avhich is spread between each layer of bricks. Slate is dug out of quarries in the same manner as stone, when it is split into thin pieces by the slate- maker's tool. The slates generally seen on the top of a house are made by hewing out a block of slate, about ft foot in diameter, by several feet long, and cutting them oft', one by one, by the slater's axe or knife. Deal, oak, and mahogany. Deal is the wood of the Norway fir, and, being cut in that country, is floated down the rivers, and then brought over in ships. Oak 278 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. is the produce of the acorn, and is so well known, I need not describe it. Mahogany is a very large, tall tree, which grows plentifully in the West Indies and South America, near the Bay of Honduras, and other places. "What is called Spanish mahogany comes from the island of Cuba, in the West Indies. This island belongs to Spain. Iron and lead are used in various ways in and about a house ; both come from mines. The iron is used for nails, cramps, ties, and bolts ; the lead for covering the edges of the roofs, for making pipes and gutters, sinks, and cisterns. Zinc is now frequently used instead of lead. As to the glass placed in the sashes of the win- dows, you know how that is obtained. HOW A HOUSE IS BUILT. First, a plan is drawn on paper of the house intended to be erected. From this plan, which is handed to the builder, a specification is drawn up, which is supposed to contain the thickness of the walls, the size, the various learns, rafters, planks, with the kinds of wood to be used, the quality of the bricks and mor- tar, the extent of the drainage, the number of layers of brick in the foundation, and every other particular. An estimate is then made from this specification, and the builder agrees to do the work in such a style, in such a manner, in such a time, and for such a sum. Should the building price be accepted, he commences the erection of the house. The foundation of the walls is first laid, and the drainage marked out. The foundation is made of bricks, laid, perhaps, seven bricks for the first layer, PICTUEE LESSORS. 279 six for the second, five for the third, four for the fourth, decreasing to the size of the "wall : which is then carried up from the foot, as it is termed, to the plate, that is, to the beam that is to support the root. The roof is framed on the ground ; every beam is cut and fitted together properly ; the pieces are then taken apart again; and, lastly, refitted and securely fastened on the top of the house, where they are to remain. The slates, or tiles, are now laid on, one over the other, like the scales of a fish ; the slates are fastened by cement, the tiles by having wooden pegs. After this the windows are fitted in, the floors are laid, the staircases made, and the house is finished, by the united aid of the glazier, the joiner, the house-paperer, and the smith. LESSOXS ON THE LOED'S PEAYEE. GOD IS OUIl ZATIIEB, BECAUSE HE FOEGITES US. HOAV often have you done things which your parents Lave told you not to do ? how often have you not only forgotten their commands, but wilfully disobeyed them ? and yet your father or mother, when the evil was over, and the punishment past, have forgiven upon your repentance. And why was it thus ? Be- cause your parents loved you ; because they reflected that you were a child; and thus they made excuses for you, and were more eager to receive you into their bosoms, than, perhaps, you were to come. Ah ! my little children, so our heavenly Father loves us, so he pities us, so he bears with, our transgressions, so he forgives. Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him; for he remembereth our frame he knoweth we are dust. But the love and goodness of God is greater than that of any parent ; for he sent his son, Jesus Christ, himself manifest in the flesh, to endure our infirmi- ties, to bear our sins for us, to suffer a painful death upon the cross, that we might not be punished for our sins. He suffered for us. God was, in Christ, recon- ciling the world unto himself, and showing us the way in which we should walk, affording us his Spirit to guide us and to comfort us. This is the way God forgives. A parent, in forgiving its child, often makes but little sacrifice; but Christ made a sacrifice of himself, and bore our sins for us on the cross. God is, indeed, our Father. Great as is shou-n his love to us in creation, in his providence, in his preservation, in his corrections; yet, in our redemption from the power of sin, and the consequences of sin, he is above LESSORS oy THE LOAD'S PHAYER. 2S1 nil things to be praised. Let us then, my dear little children, look up to him, not only as our Creator, but as our Redeemer, and to his forgiveness, in and through Christ, as the highest gift, as the greatest joy, as the all in all of life and immortality. "HALLOWED BE THY NAME." "Would you, my little child, feel holy reverence to- wards Almighty God, who preserves us, provides for us, and is overflowing with love for us ; would you think lightly of him, or would you rather give the glory due unto his name ? The word GOD, which is the name we give to the Divine Being, signifies good ; just as the word Lord signifies bread-giver; to have a sense of God's holi- ness upon ^ts, and to feel his goodness in us, is continu- ally to hallow the name of God, to sanctify the Lord God in our hearts. When we say, " Our Father," we approach God in the confidence of faith,. as a, parent ready to hear us. When we say, " Hallowed be thy name," we throw ourselves at his feet, as creatures of his mercy. Then it is we acknowledge God as the holiest, the highest, the only true God sole author of our crea- tion, our sanctification, our redemption. To Jtalloio the name of God is to keep his goodness constantly in our sight ; to feel that his eye is ever upon us ; to stand in awe of his presence, and feel a delight that he is near us. To hallow the name of God is also to hold God him- self in reverence ; not to dishonour his name, which, as Christians, toe bear, by an act of sin, to treat all ihat belongs to him with reverence ; and, lastly, by living to his service and glory. NATURAL HISTORY. The Nautilus (Argonauta arrjo.) THE PAPEE, NAUTILUS. HERE is a picture of what Las been named "the natural sailor of the deep ;" commonly called, from the delicate thinness of its shell, the paper nautilus. Some authors have thought it might he called, with propriety, the argonauta papyracea, as more descrip- tive of its paperlike structure. My opinion is, that the present name should be preserved, because it refers to a well-known classical taie ; namely, the celebrated expedition of JASON, in the ship AEGO, to recover the golden fleece, in which all those who accompanied him were called argonauts. To this hero of poetical fiction, which is sometimes strongly mingled with truth, the art of navigation has been attributed, which was said to have been pointed NATURAL HISTORY. 283 out in the skilful management exhibited by the instinc- tive little sailor, inhabiting the argoiiauta shell, steer- ing its frail bark through the trackless paths of the v/ide sea : " For thus to man the voice of Nature spate- Go, from the creatures thy instruction take, Learn of the little Nautilus to sail, Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale." Iii fine calm weather, when the sea is unruffled, the argoiiauta is said to have been observed gently rising, with the keel of the shell turned upwards, in order, it may be supposed, to present less opposition to its ascent through the water. How the nautilus is enabled to rise in this manner to the surface of the water, has not been explained. There may be a mechanical organization adapted to this purpose, by which the animal may eject the water from its shell; and thus, being made specifically lighter, rises to the surface. When the nautilus has risen to the top of the water, it gradually assumes a sailing position. The three tentacular appendages, in other words, the arms which you observe hanging over the sides of the shell, serve as so many oars ; while, in the centre of these, two spoon-shaped membranes are elevated, acting as sails to catch the rising breeze, and thus the pretty little boat is propelled through the water. You will hardly suppose that such a little auimal as the above would be the cause of any disputes in the world ; but it has, and sometimes not a little ill-will among naturalists. During a period of more than two thousand years, the question has not been decided, 284 TOE HOLIDAY BOOK. " Whether the animal found in the argonauta is the architect of that shell, or merely a, pirate?" Some contend, that the animal is a parasitical inhabi- tant of the argonauta's shell: others, that it was crea- ted just in the form we see it ; but really, I think, the question might be easily settled, by attentive exami- nation of the living animal. It is said by some, that on examination of the mollusca, that the parts where the oar-like appendages work on the side of the shell, are little thickenings of the skin, which serve to keep them from being cut by the edge of it ; just as you will observe pieces of leather nailed round oars, to prevent their wearing in the parts which work between the thowls. Let this be as it may, the argonauta is a very inte- resting animal. The derivation of the word ARGO has been often disputed; some derive it from Argos, the person who first prepared the expedition, and who built the first ship. The ship Argo had fifty oars, according to some authors, and a beam in her prow, cut out of the forest of TJodoua, by Minerva, which had the power of giving oracles to the argonauts. Perhaps you would like to hear a few more words concerning these argonauts. The expedition was made, according to poetic history, by JASON, accompa- nied Avith many of the young princes of Greece, to recover from Pelias the golden fleece ; or, rather, the golden ram, which had a golden fleece and wings, and was endowed with the faculty of speech. Jason and his companions sailed from place to place, and at last arrived at ^Ea, the capital of Colchis. -Etes, the king, NATURAL HISTORY. 285 is said to have enforced the following conditions upon Jason, for the recovery of this strange animal : First, he was to tame two bulls, which had brazen feet and horns, and vomited clouds and smoke, and fasten them to a plough, made of adamantine stone, with which he was to plough the earth. After this he was to soio in the plain the teeth of a dragon, from which an armed multitude were to rise up. This done, he was to kill an ever-watchful dragon, which was at the bottom of the tree upon which the golden fleece was suspended. These labours Jason performed, by the assistance of Medea, whom he had married, and thus obtained the possession of the golden fleece. Under this fiction, in all probability, is concealed the fact, that Jason, an emigrant, went from a country where the people lived by force of arms, to another where agriculture was successfully employed, and by diligently applying himself to ploughing and harrow- ing (not with dragon's teeth), and to keeping the birds ( not dragons ) from the sown corn, lie obtained the usual reward of industry wealth and competence^ We must remember, that it is not to arms, nor vio- lence, that a nation must look for wealth and pre-emi- nence, but to the sciences, the arts, the manufactures, and commerce ; and, above all, to the cultivation of the soil. The little nautilus may be taken as the symbol of all this, as well as of navigation ; and, if I were a king, I would make it my crest, as being of far more significance than winged griffins, or rampant lions, or bloody hands, or naked daggers. THE CROCODILE. THE word crocodile is Greek, and means that- which cries, yelps, or screams, along the bank of a river. It lias long been known, and there are few animals of which so many stories have been told. I need not give you a general description of this animal, as you can form a very good conception of it from the cut. There are, however, some peculiarities about the animal that a picture can give you no notion of. Tou may observe, however, that its bod/ is covered with thick, square-shaped scales. The nostrils of the crocodile are formed without, of two slits, which cross each other, thus + ; the angu- lar pieces between serve as valves, to be opened or shut, as may be required. The ear also closes, by means of fleshy valves, so as to be completely water- tight ; and the eyes have each a third eyelid. There is also, under the throat, glands, which secrete a very powerful oil, so sweetly scented, that where crocodiles NATURAL niSTOHT. 287 are abundant, they perfume the country for a con- siderable distance. The crocodile cannot very easily turn its head or body sideways ; he can, however, raise his head, till the line of it forms less than a right angle with his body. He can also stoop his head downwards with considerable facility. The mouth of the crocodile is a very formidable instrument ; but it is not true that the animal has the power of motion in both jaws. When it seizes its prey, the crocodile's mouth opens to a great extent, by the bending backwards of the head and upper jaw upon the joints of the neck, as the centre of motion, and the moving of the under jaw in the other direc- tion ; thus, by opening the mouth, there is a motion of both jaws from each other, and when they are again closed, the upper jaw does descend to meet the lower one although it has no hinge to work on, as was formerly supposed. Thus the bite is given with both jaws, and woe be to the animal that gets between them. The largest crocodiles are thirty feet long; their natural abode is the water ; they like to hang about the muddy edges, and among the reeds of sluggish streams, where they lie in wait for their prey. When in pursuit, the crocodile swims gently and silently, just on a level with the water, until it approaches the place where some animal comes to drink ; then, curving its tail, it strikes a violent blow, which is invariably in the direction of the water, and at the same time towards its own mouth. Should the animal surprised be of a large size, such 288 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. as an ox or a horse, the crocodile adopts another plan, by seizing it by the nostrils, and dragging it under water to be drowned. When a tortoise is seized, the crocodile raises its head above the water, and by the great strength of its jaws crushes the shell in pieces, just as you would bite a biscuit. The prey being drowned, it is conveyed to some hole under water, and left to putrify, before it is eaten ; it is, however, always taken again to the land to be devoured. When once a crocodile has seized his prey, there are few tools or hands that can wrench it from him. The agility of the crocodile, although considerable in the act of seizing its prey, is not very great on land. It cannot run very i'ast, and there are few animals but can get out of its reach, particularly if they " dodge him," as boys call it, that is, suddenly deviate from the straight path. The blow of the tail is chiefly to be dreaded. The female crocodile digs a cavity in the earth, in which she places her eggs in successive layers, with portions of earth between, the whole being afterwards covered up. They are then left to be hatched by the heat of the sun, but not abandoned ; as the anxious mother often revisits the spot, just before the period of hatching. The young crocodiles are soon heard yelping like puppies, the earth is scraped away, and the young brood comes forth and follows their parent to the water. Crocodiles are found in all the great rivers of Africa, and in the streams and marshes of the oriental islands, and also in the large rivers of the extreme HISTOET south of Asia. They, however, differ from the cro- codile of the Nile the Egyptian crocodile. Some .are found in the West Indies, of a different species. What are the uses of these animals ? They per- form an important part of nature's economy. During the heavy rains of many parts of the world, large numbers of animals are swept down by the rushing floods, and are wafted to those extensive lakes in the forests, in which the water stagnates with the floatage ; then it is crocodiles and alligators have their banquet. If they did not do their work, and if the vultures did not come after them, the banks of the rivers could not "be approached for miles, and rank pestilence would infect and putrefy the air. Believe me, God has made .nothing in vain. ANCIENT HISTORY. THE SECOND ASSYEIAN EMPIRE. M TOLD you of the first Assyrian empire, and that (^5 upon its ruins three kingdoms were established that of the MEDES, that of NINEVEH, and that of BABYLON. The second Assyrian empire, of which I am now about to tell you, comprehended Nineveh and Babylon, and continued two hundred and ten years. There were, during this space of time, many kings, "both of Nineveh and Babylon, but their history is very obscure. Belesis, in Scripture, is called Baladan. Tiglath-Pileser is the name given by the sacred vo- lume to the king, who is said to be the same with Ninus the Younger. lie reigned, A.M. 3257, B.C. 747. SHALMANESEB was the name of another king. In nis reign Sabacus, the Ethiopian, whom the Scriptures called So, revolted, made himself master of Egypt, and entered into an alliance with Hoshea, king of Samaria. Shalmaneser, to punish him, entered Samaria with a large army, and after besieging the city of Samaria for three years, took it, carried away Hoshea and his people captives, and destroyed (as God often threatened by his prophets) the kingdom of Israel, or the ten tribes, A.M. 3276, B.C. 728. SENNACHEBIB, who succeeded Shalmaneser, waged war against the kingdom of Judah, and sent a mighty army against King Hezekiah. He conquered all the country except the city of Jerusalem, which city seemed inevitably lost. Sennacherib sent a threatening letter to Hezekiah, blaspheming the God of heaven ; but in one night the Lord sent his destroying angel, and one- hundred and eighty-five thousand of his army perished. THE SECOND ASSYRIAN EMPIRE. 291 After this disaster the boastful king was conspired against by his two eldest sons, and slain in the temple, A.M. 3287, B.C. 717. From this time there was a succession of kings in Babylon, of which history gives us little account. Nebuchadnezzar the Second ruled Judea, and be- sieged Jerusalem ; he caused Jehoiakim to be put in chains, and carried to Babylon. Daniel, then twelve years old, was carried away among the other captives. The kingdom of Babylon at this time comprised Chaldea, Assyria, Arabia, Syria, and Palestine, A.M. 3401, B.C. 603. It was to Nebuchadnezzar that Daniel interpreted the dream, signifying the destruction of his kingdom, and foretold the kingdom of Christ. After this the king attacked Jerusalem, plundered the temple, and conveying away a great many captives, placed Zede- kiah on the throne ; but this prince, having broken his oath of fidelity, Nebuchadnezzar returned and took Jerusalem by storm, destroying vast numbers of the Jews. Zedekiah was loaded with fetters, and conveyed to Babylon, the city and temple were pil- laged and burnt, and all their fortifications demolished. Upon Nebuchadnezzar's return to Babylon, he ordered the golden statue to be set up, which Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused to worship; and, upon beholding the miracle in their favour, seems to have shown signal respect to the religion of the Jews. After this, Nebuchadnezzar nuide himself master of Tyre ; but, in the midst of his triumphs, he was suddenly deprived of reason, and, according to the prophecy of Daniel, was driven from the company of u 2 292 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. men. After the appointed time he was restored to health of body and niind, and gave thanks to Almighty God for his mercy. He soon after died, and was suc- ceeded by his son, Evil-merodach, A.M. 3441, B.C. 563. This king, who is called Darius in the Scriptures, released Jeconias, king of Judah, who had been con- fined thirty-seven years, and was the king who threw Daniel into the den of lions. He was succeeded by !Neriglissor, Laborosoarchod, and latterly by Laby- nitus. who is called in Scripture Belshazzar. In the first year of Belshazzar' s reign, Daniel had the vision of the four beasts, which represented the four great monarchies. Cyrus, king of Persia, had long determined to invade, subdue, and destroy Babylon. He had already extended his empire in all directions, and now set himself down with a numerous army before the gigantic walls of that wonderful city. His army extended quite round the city ; but the besieged, thinking themselves out of all danger, by reason of their high walls and ramparts, insulted their enemy from their tops, and laughed at his attempts. Cyrus cut a large and deep ditch quite round the fortifications. When this great work was finished, which took many months, Cyrus began to think of putting into execution his design of attack upon the city ; for, as the channel of the Euphrates ran directly through the centre of Babylon, it was the intention of the invader to draw off all the water of the river, and march to the attack over its bed. A great festival was held in Babylon at this time ; TBclshazzar was more concerned in this public rejoicing HISTOEY OP THE MEDES. 293 than any other person ; he made a great feast, and, when flushed with wine, sent for the sacred vessels which had been taken from the temple of Jerusalem; but while thus impiously carousing, in the midst of his princes and concubines, he was astonished by the sudden apparition of a hand, writing certain charac- ters upon the wall of the palace, opposite the place in which he sat. The purport of this writing, as interpreted by Daniel, the prophet, was, that his kingdom was taken from him, and given to the Medes and Persians ; and that very night, as you shall presently hear, the city was taken, and Belshazzar killed. Cyrus having intelligence of the confusion in the city, now drew off the waters from the Euphrates into the channels he had prepared for its reception, and immediately marched his soldiers along the dry bed of the river, and entering it by the various gates on its shores, Avhich were easily broken down, he soon pene- trated into the very heart of the city, of which he made himself master. Belshazzar was slain in the assault, and he thus ended the Babylonian empire, after a duration of two hundred and ten years, A.M. 31GS, B.C. 53G. HISTORY OF THE MEDES. I told you, in speaking of the destruction of the first Assyrian empire, that Arbaces, general of the Median army, was one of the chief conspirators against Sarda- napalus ; and it is supposed that, after this event, he became chief of the Medians. The nation of the Medes was divided into six tribes, and appears not to have had any common city or capi- 294 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. tal among them till the time of Dejoces, who erected the state into a monarchy. Dejoces was a man of great wisdom, and seeing the disorders which arose through the republican form of government, and the barbarous manners of the people, formed the design of making himself king. He had long been the principal person among the Medes ; and had, in the character of judge and magis- trate, behaved with great equity and moderation; indeed, the fame of his equity was so great, that all difficult cases were brought before him, and his decision was looked upon as final. Dejoces was not, however, content with the charac- ter of a judge, but aspired to be a king, and, at last, refused to act in his former capacity unless the people gave him sovereign rule ; and, as all agreed there was no one so worthy of this high office, he was elected king. When he ascended the throne, he endeavoured to convince the people that they were not mistaken in the choice they had made ; he restored order, raised a powerful army, built a palace, and then used all his endeavours to civilize and enlighten his subjects. He also soon built a city, which was encompassed about with seven distinct walls. The city itself was on the top of a hill, and the walls surrounded its base, and reached part of the way up, one within the other. The name of this city was Ecbatana. It is, however, probable that the site had been already chosen for a town of great strength by the Medes, before the time of Dejoces. Dejoces does not appear to have made war upon any of his neighbours, but to have spent his time eu- HISTORY or THE JIEDES. 295 tirely in making good laws, and improving his people. His reign "was very long. He occupied the throne fifty-three years, and died A.M. 3347, B.C. 657. Phraortes, the son of Dejocea, succeeded his father; and being of a very warlike temper, attacked the Persians, and, defeating them in a desperate battle, brought them in submission to his empire. Then, strengthened by neighbouring allies, he attacked, first, one of the nations around him, and then another, till at last he made himself master of almost all Upper Asia. Elevated with his success, he at last turned his arms against the Assyrians. Nebuchadnezzar, the king, raised a powerful army against him ; and, although he could obtain no foreign help, he met Phraortes on the plain of Eagau, where a great battle was fought, to the entire discomfiture of the Medes, who fled on all sides. Nebuchadnezzar immediately entered Media, and attacked the city of Ecbatana, which he pillaged and plundered. Phraortes was taken prisoner among the mountains of the country, and was cruelly put to death. It would have been better for him had he been of a quiet, peaceable disposition. Cyaxares the First, son of Phraortes, succeeded his father ; he was a brave and enterprising prince. He soon settled himself very firmly in Media ; he then conquered Upper Asia ; and, afterwards, made prepar- ations to attack Nineveh, that he might revenge the death of his father by the destruction of that great city. However, just as his army were taking up their positions before the city, Cyaxares received intelli- 29G THE HOLIDAY BOOK. gence that his own country was invaded by the Scyth- ians. He, therefore, immediately raised the siege of Nineveh, and marched with all his forces against tho invaders of his country. The two armies engaged, and the Medes were vanquished. The Scythians were for twenty-eight years not only masters of Media, but of the whole of Upper Asia, during which time they spread desolation wherever they came. The Medes had no way of getting rid of them but by a dangerous stratagem, and one exceed- ingly wicked. Under pretence of cultivating and strengthening the alliance they had made together, they invited tho greater part of them to a general feast, which was made in every family. Each master of the feast made his guests intoxicated, and in that condition were tho Scythians massacred. The Medes then possessed themselves of the provinces they had lost, and once more extended their empire. The remaining Scythians, who were not at the feast, having heard of the massacre of their countrymen, fled into Lydia to King Halyattes, who received them with great humanity. This occasioned a war between the two princes ; and many battles were fought during the space of five years, with equal advantage. The most remarkable battle was one in which an eclipse of the sun took place during the engagement, when the day was suddenly turned into night^ Thales, the Milesian, had foretold this eclipse, but the- Scythians were not aware of it. The Scythians and Medes, who were then in the heat of the battle, were equally terrified with the event, which they looked upon as a sign of the anger HISTOET OF THE LYDIANS. 297' of the gods, and immediately retreated on both sides, and made peace. The first care of Cyaxares, as soon as he found himself at peace, was to resume the siege of Nineveh, which the irruptions of the Scythians had obliged him, to raise. Joining himself to Nabopolassar, king of Babylon, he besieged Nineveh, took it, killed Saracus,. the king, and utterly destroyed that mighty city, A.M. 3378, B.C. 626. The two armies enriched themselves with the spoils of Nineveh ; and Cyaxares, prosecuting his victories,, made himself master of all the cities of Assyria,, except Babylon and Chaldea. After this expedition, Cyaxares died, and left his dominions to his son. Astyages. Astyages reigned thirty-five years. This prince is called in Scripture Ahasuerus. He had two children, a son and daughter; the latter was married to Cam- byses, king of Persia, who was the father of Cyrus - T the former, named after his grandfather, succeeded ta the kingdom of the Medes. Cyaxares the Second was the prince whom the Scripture called Darius the Mede. Cyrus, after having taken Babylon, united the king- dom of the Medes and Persians into one. The history of Persia will, therefore, begin with the reign of" Cyrus : but I must say a few words about the kingdom, of Lydia, because Croesus, its king, had a considerable share in the succeeding events. niSTOUY OF THE LTDIANS. The kings who first reigned over the Lydians, are,, by Herodotus, called Atyadse ; that is, descendants of 298 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Atys. These, he tells us, derived their name from Lydus, the son of Atys ; and Lydus gave the name of Lydians to that people. These Atyadre were succeeded by the Heraclidae, or descendants of Hercules, who possessed the kingdom for a space of five hundred and five years. Argo, great grandson of Alcseus, son of Hercules, was the first of the Heraelidse who reigned in Lydia, A.ir. 2781, B.C. 1223. Candaules, who was married to a very beautiful woman, lost his throne and life through her wicked- ness. Plato says, that one Gyges, who usurped the throne, wore a ring, the stone of which, when turned towards him, rendered him invisible, so that he had the advantage of seeing others without being seen himself; and that by means of this ring, and the con- currence of the queen, he deprived Candaules of his life and throne. This is, no doubt, a great untruth ; but it may signify, that Gyges was crafty and con- cealed his real designs. The murder of Candaules occasioned a civil war among the Lydians ; but the two parties, instead of fighting the matter out, agreed to refer the dispute to the Delphic oracle, which declared in favour of Gyges. The king had made large presents to the temple, which, no doubt, had an influence on the priests. Gyges reigned thirty-eight years, A.M. 3286, B.C. 718. After this there were several other kings at Lydia, the most celebrated of whom was Croesus, who lived five hundred and sixty-two years before Christ. His very name, which is become a proverb, conveys the idea of immense riches ; we say, "as rich as Croesus." His wealth appears to have arisen from some very HISTORY OF THE LTDIAKS. valuable mines ; and the presents he made to the temple of Delphi were so immense, that he soon became famous as the richest man in the world. Although Croesus was rather vain of his riches, it did not make him luxurious ; he was always ready to defend his kingdom. He had great delight in learned men, and in the arts and sciences, knowing that these, and not riches, are the great glory of a nation. Solon, one of the Grecian legislators, being intro- duced to the court of Croesus, was in no way affected by the magnificence he beheld. Being asked by the king, which of mankind, in all his travels, he had found the happiest, said, " One Tellus, who, being an honest citizen and good father, died fighting for his country." Being asked who was the next in felicity, he replied, " Two brothers, who had left behind them, a perfect pattern of fraternal affection, and of the respect due from children to their parents" Yes, my young friends, to be dutiful to our parents is greater riches, both to them and you, than all the wealth of Croesus. Solon told Croesus not to trust in his wealth, nor to put too much confidence in his power and greatness ; and the king soon found that riches were vain, and that grandeur is a dream. The death of his favourite son made him the most miserable of men. Soon after this, he entered into an alliance with the Athenians and Lacedemonians, the two most powerful states of Greece: he then turned his arms against the Persians, of whom I shall inform you in the next history. NATUKAL THEOLOGY. OBJECT LESSON. No. I. A BIRD'S \VING-. Skeleton of a Bird's Wing. LOOK at the wing of a bird how soft, and smooth, and glossy it is ; how closely it will fold up ; how widely it will spread. Wings are given to birds to enable them to fly from tree to tree, from field to field, and from shore to- shore, in search of food. The wing is composed of lone, tendon, and. feathers. The bone is a sort of frame-work ; the tendons are like little cords, to move the wing ; and the feathers cover the whole so as to fit the wing to strike the air and enable the bird to rise and move in it. The bones of birds are hollow, and contain air that they may be light ; they are, besides, much firmer in substance than the bones of land animals, that are formed to walk only. NATTTEAL THEOLOGY. 301 The sinews, or tendons, are very tough and strong you could not pull this wing to pieces with, your hand ; nay, you could scarcely pull the feathers out, so strong are they fixed in the wing. The feathers of a bird are of two kinds small fea- thers, called clothing feathers, which cover the wing on all sides ; and larger ones, called pinions, or flying- beaters, which are made long and strong, that they may strike the air. The feathers are also surrounded near the skin with doivn, which is very soft, ivarm, and light. Feathers are in some degree water-proof, and birds dress them, which is called preening or trimming their feathers. They do this for three purposes to drain the water from such feathers as get wet, to smooth the webs of those that get ruffled, and, lastly, to apply an oil to those that require such a protector. This oil is found in a small nipple, near the tail of the bird, and is used daily. If we examine one of the large feathers from a bird's wing, we shall find much to admire in it it is a mechanical wonder. First, it is strong ; next, it is light ; then it is curved. If you press it downwards it yields ; if you put your finger under the curve, in the manner in which the wind meets it, it is very strong. When the feather is ruffled it can be put straight, and all its parts fall naturally into each other. Look at this pinion how smooth it is, it seems nearly of one piece ; yet of how many filaments is it composed ! Fifty of these filaments have been counted in the tenth of an inch, in very small feathers. 302 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. You trill observe, too, that they lock into each other so nicely, that the wind can no more blow through them than it can through a door -when fast- ened by the latch. The engraving (page 300) represents the wing of the Ger Falcon. The large bone, marked a, is called the humerus, and answers to that part of your arm between the shoulder and the elbow. The portion marked b, answers to the fore arm, or cubit, that part of the arm from the elbow to the wrist. This part consists of two bones, a larger and a curved one, the radius, b, and a more slender and straighter one, called the ulna. The portion marked c, answers to the hand in man : o, is the thumb, which, in the bird, connects what is called the bastard wing. The bones which answer to the palm of the hand, extend from 2, the wrist-joint, to 3, the knuckle-joint. From the knuckle-joint, at 3, to the point, answers to the fingers in the human hand. The elbow-joint, 1, is a sort of triple hinge, and is so made, that, when the wing is stretched out, it cannot bend backwards, any more than the pump-handle could fly over the top of the pump. The wrist-joint, also, is on the same construction, and cannot be bent back beyond its proper situation without breaking the wing. The fore arm having to sustain the broadest part of the wing, is very strong. The radius, or larger bone (which the bird sweeps round in the air), has the form of a bow ; and the smaller one, the ulna, the form of a bow-string. It is formed in this manner to afford great strength. NATUKAL THEOLOGY. 303 If you take a bow, and having bent it well, place- the tips of it on the ground, and then try to bend it downwards, you will find it much stifFer and stronger than a straight stick of twice the thickness. A very portable bridge is very often made upon this principle. A thin plank is bent into the form of a bow, and its two ends fastened by a cord. "When tied in this manner, a plank, which a boy can easily carry, will enable him to cross a river or chasm ten or twelve feet wide. But the bow and the plank-bridge are strong only in one direction ; and, if their position be reversed, they are weaker than a straight stick or plank would be ; but the wing of a bird, which has to bear strains and twists in all directions, is formed on a more per- fect principle, and will be found, upon examination, to le a loio in whatever direction it is turned ; and that, in the various motions of the wings, the iilna becomes- a tie and a stretcher to the radius in all cases, as they may be required. Such is, in some slight degree, an illustration of the design and wisdom of Almighty God, who gave wings- to the bird, that he might fly above the earth. We might spend a whole life in the study of this wing r and find new proofs of his marvellous contrivance, and still it would remain, in great part, an unexplained wonder. 3IY GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. CHAPTER I. STOEY OP THE BABBIT TAXCIEB. "RABBITS tell you something about rabbits so you want to turn rabbit breeders, do you ? "Well, I kept rabbits once, and a fine plague they were to me. I had all kinds of disasters with them ; some person. told me I should feed them upon one thing, some said I should give them another ; some told me to let them run about, others that I should never sufier them to come from the hutches ; so that, with my various directors and directions, I had much ill luck with my rabbits. I had a doe, and as fine a litter as ever made a little boy glad; there were grey ones and black ones, a real double-smut, and one milk-white, with red MY GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. 303 eyes, worth a crown of anybody's money; and I thought myself somebody, I can assure you, with my stock. " But, as I said, I had much ill luck with them. Before they had long been separated from the doe, two of my young ones showed symptoms of pot-belly, and very soon died ; the dear red-eyed beauty was crushed by the door of the hutch one windy day, when I was cleaning them out ; the double-smut was destroyed by a weasel, which eat into the rabbitry ; and out of seven fine rabbits as ever eat clover, only two could be reared ; and by the time they were full-grown, I was quite tired of my rabbits. " To be a rabbit fancier now-a-days, a boy must be rather scientific on the subject: a fine, well-made, natural-looking rabbit, he must learn to sneer at, and only fancy those that are absolutely deformed ; they must have large, unsightly, lop ears, and you must pay one or two guineas each for them. Then the dew-lap must be noticed, which is an ugly excrescence hanging under the throat, so broad, that when the head repose? upon it, it is equal in size to two good-sized eggs. Did you ever see such an ugly creature ? " Then the little rabbit fancier must know the dif- ferent grades between the lop-eared rabbit and the true and perfect fancy lop. He must know, also, the beauty of the horn-lop, and the over-lop, and the real lop, which makes a rabbit resemble a great lop-eared sow; and yet these ugly, unnatural -looking animals are so be-prized, and fed, and bought, and kept at a great expense ; for what ? for no good purpose, cer- tainly ; for the only effect the cultivation, of such a x SOo THE HOLIDAY BOOK!. depraved taste can have on children, is, to destroy their love of the natural a great evil, to my think- ing. " Therefore, my dear young folks, have nothing to do with fancy dew-laps or Jwrn-lops ; but, if you must have rabbits, purchase a brood of young ones of the common kind ; and, if you must keep them for fancy sake, see that they have plenty of food, and that your great care be to make them perfectly happy. Kill them, and, eat them fatten them for the table .' Could you, my young friends, after the dear pet knew you, and fed from your hand, and frisked around you, and came at your call, and looked happy when it saw you could you, with any pleasure, see it fixed on a dish, with a skewer ran through its neck, to keep its head up could you gormandize on its haunches ? If you could, you must be a boy of a hard and obdurate heart. Then, my advice is, do not keep rabbits. But let me tell you a story about EDWIN THE YOUNG BABBIT FANCIEH. " Edwin was a very tender-hearted boy, and very eager about a thing when he took it into his head ; but his enthusiasm very often left him just at the time it ought to have remained with him. Thus he never pursued any study or amusement for any length of time, with profit to himself, and often fell into very grievous errors. " ' Oh ! dear mamma,' said he one day to his mother, ' I do wish so that I had something for a pet ; there is Charles Jones has a sweet little bird, and cousin James has a squirrel. I should so like something for a pet. Do, mamma, buy me something a Guinea pig, or a MY GRANDFATIIEE'S STOEIES. 307 couple of pigeons, or a rabbit. Oh ! I saw such a beautiful white rabbit yesterday.' "'Ay, my dear,' said his mamma, 'I am afraid you would soon grow tired of your rabbit, as you did of your gun, and bow and arrow, and ship, and rocking- horse.' " ' Oh ! but a rabbit is quite different, mamma ; you can love a rabbit, you know, and coax it, and feed it, and make it happy. I should go out early in the morning, and pick some nice clover for it, and some thistle, and dandelion, and marsh-mallows. I know how to feed rabbits I have learned all about it. I must not give them too much green stuff, but some nice bran and oats ; and then I could make a little trough for it to eat from, you know ; and and ' " ' I am sure, my dear, it would be too much trouble to you ; rabbits require a great deal of care and atten- tion, and you so soon get tired of anything you take up, that I fear it would soon suffer from neglect.' " ' I am sure I should never neglect it, mamma ; and, if you will give me a shilling, I can buy a beauty a real white French rabbit, with red eyes, and a coat like swansdown. Do, dear mamma, give me a shilling.' "'No, my dear,' said she, 'I really must refuse you.' " Now, although Edwin was a little boy, he said to himself, ' I know it is only because mamma wishes to save her money ; 'tis not because she really thinks I shall neglect the rabbit, but because she does not like to part with her money.' He thought himself very cunning, did he not ? 308 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. " So Edwin began to pout and whine, and to tense his mamma, being determined to let her have no peace. ' You know, mamma,' said he, ' I shall be so fond of it ; I will make it a house ; and then I could cut down some grass, and dry it, and make hay for it to lie upon ; and I could sow some oats for it in my garden ; I should not want anything else to amuse mo all the year round.' " Whether to humour Edwin, or to teach him a les- son, I will not say, but his mamma gave him a shilling, and off he ran, and purchased the milk-white, red-eyed rabbit. " Joyful enough was he when he brought it home : he paraded it round the house, showed it to every member of the family, housemaid, laundrymaid, foot- man, and cook ; and everybody praised the rabbit, and said it was a most beautiful creature. " The next morning Edwin rose betimes, and began to look for wood to build his rabbit-hutch. He pro- cured saw, nails, and hammer ; and at last found some old planks, and began to saw them, and cut them, and chisel and plane, till his little arms ached again. " He had soon cut two or three pieces of board up, but to no purpose ; one was too short, and another too long, a third had a knot in it, and a fourth was spoiled in splitting. Vexed with his want of success, Edwin said, ' I shall not make him a house to-night, he must be content with being fastened in the coal-hole to- night, he will have plenty of room to run about.' " So Bunny was put into the coal-hole, with a hand- ful of cabbage-leaves, and told to make himself happy till the morning ; and, as it happened to be the fifth MY GHANDFATIIEIl's STOHIES. 309 of November, Edwin went to amuse himself by letting off fireworks. " In the morning Edwin went to the coal-hole to look after Bunny. There it was, sure enough ; but, instead of its being a beautiful white rabbit, by hop- ping about among the coals, it had become almost as black as the coals themselves. '"Well, I never !' said the little boy, 'what a dirty little thing it is ; ' and so he tried to catch it ; but Bunny, not liking to be caught, led the youngster a fine dance in the coal-hole, and at last he fell over a large lump of coal, and dirtied his clean frill and white pinafore. " It was difficult to say which was the dirtiest of the two, Edwin or his rabbit. The little boy, how- ever, being quite out of patience, made no further effort, but shut the coal-hole door, and in great terror ran to the nursery-maid to put him into cleaner trim. He did not go again into the place where the rabbit was that day, and so the poor thing was kept without ibod, for Edwin totally forgot he had not fed his pet. " However, the next day he again repaired to the place, and having caught Bunny, took it into the stable-yard, and put it into an unoccupied pig-sty. The first intention of making a house was quite given up, and Edwin began to think his rabbit a great plague ; he, however, gave it some more callage leaves and left it. " The fact was, Edwin was getting tired of his rabbit ; he, however, bought it a few oats, and gave it a little hay. He went out for a few mornings and gathered a little clover, but in less than a week this was 310 TIIE HOLIDAY BOOK. thought to be a great deal of trouble ; besides which, the rabbit seemed lame, and did not look so pretty as it did at first. " At last Edwin quite forgot his rabbit for two days, and when he went to look at it he was surprised to find it lying on its side. He called, ' Bunny, Bunny.' The poor thing looked at him, and seemed pleased to see him, for its long ears moved as if it was. " Edwin took it up ; it seemed to have lost the use of its hind legs ; it squeaked when it was touched ; and so the little boy laid it down again. He felt it all over ; it was very thin, and seemed half starved. " Edwin now ran and got a saucer full of oats, and placed it beside the poor thing ; he also ran to the next field, and plucked some nice sow thistle, and gave it to eat. Bunny looked grateful, and tried to eat, but could not. " Edwin, in placing his hand down by its side, felt the beatings of its heart ; it went beat, beat, beat throb, throb, throb quicker than a watch ; and every now and then its head twitched, and the skin of its jaw drew up, as if it were in great pain. " And yet the poor animal seemed glad to have some one by its side, and rubbed its nose against Edwin's hand; and then it panted again, and its eyes grew dim : it was dying. Poor little Edwin now began to cry. " ' Oh ! my poor dear, dear, dear Bunny,' said he, ' what shall I do to make you well ? oh ! what would I give ? Oh ! I have killed you, for I know I have. Oh! my poor dear Bunny let me kiss you, dear Bunny.' Here the little fellow stooped down to kiss MY GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. 311 his rabbit. Just at that moment it gave a struggle in the next it was dead. " Edwin's eyes were full of tears, and when he could see through them, and found out what had hap- pened, he broke out into loud sobs and cries, till he roused the whole house. ' Oh ! my dear rabbit oh ! I have killed my rabbit oh ! what shall I do ? ' he uttered, in deepest grief. " ' Ay,' said his mamma, who was called to the spot by his outcries ; ' I feared it would be thus. "Who would think a house-bred rabbit could live in a damp pig-sty ? The poor thing has been destroyed by neglect? " ' Oh, yes, dear mamma, do not scold me ; I know I have been very naughty. Oh, I do love my dear rab- bit ; I love it more now it is dead than I did when it was alive ; but is it really dead, mamma ? no ; is it ? it is quite warm, and may get well again ; say it will, there's a dear, dear mother,' and then he cried again. " The rabbit was, however, dead ; and had caught its death in the way Edwin's mamma supposed, by being ill fed, and kept in a damp place, by thoughtless, if not cruel, neglect. " Edwin was overcome with grief, but it was now too late ; sad was the next night to him, for something told him he had been cruel to that he had promised to love. He got no sleep ; and, early in the morning he arose, and went to the place where his pet was laid. " He wept all the next day ; and, in the evening, he dug a grave in his own little gardeu, close by the side of a young rose tree. Then he wrapped the body in some nice hay, and laid it in its narrow cell, and placed 312 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. rose leaves upon it, and covered it gently with the earth ; and his heart was like to burst when he heaped the mould over it, and he was forced to pause in his task by the full gushing of his tears. " ' My child,' said his mamma, who watched him at . his sorrowful task, ' if you had taken half the trouble for Bunny, when alive, as you do now he is dead, he would have been alive now.' " ' Tes, yes, dear mamma I know I know ; but do tell me, pray do will not rabbits go to heaven ? Is there not some place where they can be happy ? I hope my poor dear Bunny may ; ' and here the little fellow sobbed again. " ' Give me a kiss, my dear boy,' said his mamma ; ' come leave this spot :' and so she led him. gently away from the rabbit's grave." " I will now tell you another story about GEOEDIE AND THE SICK DOG. ILLUSTEATIVE OF HUMANITY. " IT was Saturday afternoon, and had been longed for all the week by little Geordie, as he was called, for he was a very little fellow. Geordie had built himself a boat, and had promised to give it a fine sail in a pond, ot a great way from the house in which he lived, called the fen ditch. " So away he went, before he had quite eaten his dinner, with his boat in one hand, and the remains of a slice of bread and butter in the other; for his mother was a poor woman, and Geordie did not get meat every day, and never on a Saturday. " But his cheeks were rosy, and his eye was bright,. MY GHA^DFATHEn'S STORIES. 313 and his ringlets waved iu the wind, as he ran along, looking at his boat with eyes of delight all the way, and every now and then taking a huge mouthful, and then stopping for breath, for fear the dry crumbs should be blown down his chest. " There was a beautiful breeze as he called it ; for he called everything beautiful that pleased him. He had a beautiful piece of bread and butter; and a beautiful knife ; and a beautiful pair of shoes only his toes peeped through them. " He had a kind, cheerful, and tender heart, and so everything appeared beautiful to him, and few thinga had the power to make him discontented or peevish ; but just as Geordie got over the warren hills, which led to the place of his destination, he saw Harry Dyke, the groom at the great house of Lady Clover, coming over the swale, as it was called, with several of the boys of the village dancing about him, apparently in great delight. " When he came nearer he found that Harry was carrying, wrapped up in a piece of an old sack, a little dog, which Geordie recognised as being one which he had before seen, with its two fore paws leaning over the ledge of the sash-pane in Lady Clover's carriage, when she drove through the village. " One of the boys had got a couple of brick-bats, and a long piece of cord, and seemed very officious. He called out to Harry, ' Harry, let me throw him in, will you? there's a good fellow. But won't you give him a knock on the head, just one knock to dozzle him ?' " ' Why, they are going to drown that littb pet- 314 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. dog, that we children used to say lived a great deal better than we did; and, when I have been very hungry, I have often wished I was Lady Clover's lap- dog, for I heard say that she sometimes gave it rump- steak for its dinner, with oyster-sauce.' So thought little Geordie to himself; he did not, however, say anything. " ' Oh ! here is little Geordie,' said one of the boys. ' Geordie, Geordie, come and have some sport ! we are going to drown a dog in the fen ditch.' "'What are you going to drown it for?' said Geordie. " ' Oh, to have some fun, I suppose. No, it is not that; it is because my lady can't bear the nasty thing it has got the mange or some disorder. There, do not touch it. Don't you smell it ?' " The poor little dog looked at Geordie, and strug- gled to get out of the sacking, and gave a whine, as if it would be glad to get away from its enemies. " ' Lay down, you beast,' said Harry, and gave it a severe blow on the head ; ' lay down ; I'll soon settle your business.' . " By this time they had come to the fen brook, and the dog was placed on the ground, and taken from the sack-cloth in which it was wrapped. It was a de- plorable looking creature, and its hair was off in several places. It yelped woefully as it looked around, while the boys began to prepare the noose and the brick-bats. " ' Oh, do not drown him,' said Geordie ; ' pray do not drown him. What are you going to drown him for?' MT GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. 315 ' Why, because he is sick, and ill, and dirty. He is no good to anyone,' said Harry. ' My lady used to be very fond of him ; but now he looks such an object, she says he is to be destroyed.' " ' Give him to me,' said Geordie ; ' I'll have him, and keep him till he gets well ; he shall have half my dinner every day. Here, little dog, have this piece of bread and butter.' " ' Go away, and leave the dog alone,' said the boy who had the cord, ' you are not going to spoil our sport. Get out of the way with you.' And so he drew near, and fastened the cord to the dog's neck. " ' Oh ! do give him to me. Pray don't drown him,' said Geordie, ' pray do not. Oh ! do give him to me ; I will make him well indeed I will. Do let me have him there's a good Harry Dyke,' and the tears came into Geordie's eyes. " ' Go along, Mr. Dog Doctor,' said Harry ; ' go .along, Mr. Cry Baby.' " ' Here, Hany, I'll give you my boat for the little dog it is a beautiful boat ; here, put it into the water instead of the dog do, do, do ;' and so Geordie thrust the boat into Harry's hand, and, without waiting to settle the bargain, laid hold of the dog. " ' Leave go of him,' said the boy with the cord and the brick-bats, ' leave go ; I tell you, if you do not, it shall be the worse for you. Leave go, or ' " 'Ay, you may rap my knuckles,' said Geordie, * I do not mind that. Harry Dyke, Harry Dyke, am I not to have the dog, and you have the boat ? ' said he, struggling. 31G THE HOLIDAY BOOK. " 'Oil! I do not care about it,' said Harry ; 'take him, if you will have him ; the boat \vill do for my brother Tom, and I wish you joy of the bargain.' " The other boys hearing this, were much discon- certed, and would, no doubt, have molested Geordie still further ; but the little fellow no sooner heard Harry's tacit consent than he immediately set off full speed, with the dog under his arm, in the direction of" home. " "When he reached his home he was quite out of breath, and his mother was fearful something had happened to him. ' Why, Geordie, Geordie, what is the matter with you; and what have you got under- your arm ? ' " Geordie laid down the dog, and the sight of the poor creature, whose looks told the state of disease ia which it was, made the good woman quite afraid to have it in the house ; and, without hearing anything of the circumstances connected with the poor animal, or giving Geordie time to explain, she declared it should not set foot in the house, and drove Geordie and his purchase out of it together, telling the latter to take it from whence it came, and that the house was not to be converted into an hospital for sick dogs. " Geordie was more disconsolate than ever ; he went into the fields, with the dog under his arm. Now he laid it down and patted it ; then he talked to it, and, in his childish manner, tried to comfort it. The poor creature looked up to Geordie, and wagged its tail, and seemed quite glad to find somebody could feel for it. MY GRANDFATHER S STOE1ES. 317 " ' A} r , that is the way of these lady-folks,' thought Geordie to himself ; 'they like their pets, aud fondle them enough while they look pretty and frisk about, and play and juinp ; but when they get sick, and ill, or old, then they hang and drown them. 1 wonder what makes them do it.' " What to do with the dog Geordie knew not. At last, however, he bethought himself that he would take him up into a little loft, over a small stable which his father had, and there make him a bed with some nice hay, and try and make him better. " So he mounted the ladder, and got into the loft. He soon made the poor thing a bed, and then he thought he would get him something to eat; but Geordie had no money. " He had, however, a good many marbles, for Geordie was a capital hand at ring-taw, and so he took his marble bag, aud went into the green, where several boys were playing, and very soon sold his marbles. They produced four-pence, for there were more than fifty, at sixteen a penny. " He then bought some dog's-meat at the butcher's, and a halfpennyworth of milk, aud a halfpennyworth of sulphur, to mix \\ith the milk ; for somebody once said, in his hearing, that sulphur and milk were good physic for dogs. " He then washed the animal, and fed him ; and what with washing, and physicing, aud comforting, in a few days the poor dog regained his strength ; in a few days more he regained his coat ; aud it was not many days before he was as well as ever. " Geordie then ventured to bring him into his 318 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. father and mother; who, seeing the animal quite changed in appearance, and a lively, handsome, little dog, and not very old, were quite pleased with him, and no less pleased with their son's conduct, when it was all explained to them. " Some weeks after this Lady Clover came through the village in her carriage, as usual, and was astonished to behold her little dog sitting, with his fore paws out of Geordie's mother's parlour window, just as he used to sit out in her ladyship's carriage. " Lady Clover alighted, and went towards the house. The dog immediately began to bark, nor would the soft tones of the lady's voice by any means pacify him. In a few minutes she learned the whole of her former pet's history, and wished to have him again. She would give Geordie a crown for him, she said; but Geordie would not sell his dog. " ' No, I thank you, my lady.' ' Bow-wow, wow,' said the little dog. 'He might be sick again, my lady, and then he would be drowned, my lady.' ' Bow- wow, wow bow-wow, wow.' " 'Keep the plaguesome creature quiet,' said her ladyship, 'and hear me.' 'Bow-wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow,' said the little dog. " Her ladyship could not obtain a hearing, and left the cottage in high displeasure. 'I would not sell him for his weight in gold,' said Geordie, ' not to Lady Clover.' "It was some years after this that Geordie grew almost a man, and Chloe, for that was the dog's name, grew old. Geordie's father had prospered in air GRANDFATHER'S STOEIES. 319 life, and from being a poor cottager, had become a small farmer. " One night he returned from market with a con- siderable sum of money, arising from the sale of his crops, the principal part of which he had to pay away to his landlord in a few days. " Some evil-disposed fellows had obtained a know- ledge of this money being in the house, and deter- mined to break into and rob it, perhaps to murder those who might oppose them. " It was a very dark night, and all were sound asleep, when Black Bill, and two companions, ap- proached on tip-toe, to make an entrance in the back premises. " By means of a centre-bit they had soon cut a panel out of the wash-house door ; they then entered the kitchen, without making the least noise. Black Bill had a large carving-knife in one hand and a dark lantern in the other ; and supposing the money to be in the bed-room, was mounting the stairs, to take it at any hazard. " The stairs creaked with the weight of the robber, and in a moment Chloe aroused the whole house with her barking her shrill voice was heard in every room. In a moment Greordie was up, and his father's blun- derbuss at his shoulder. " 'Speak, or I will fire!' said he. No answer, but a scampering through the passage. Geordie followed he heard the robbers making their escape ; he fired the robber fell. "Lights were procured. It was found that the fellow was only slightly wounded in the leg, which 520 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. prevented liis running away. In the morning it was discovered who the robber was it was the very boy, now grown a man, who had tlie cord and the brick- bats I "Chloe did not live long after this, but died of sheer old age ; not, however, you see, till she had amply repaid the kindness which had been bestowed upon her by Greordie. Learn from this, my little readers, a lesson of humanity." LONDON t ROBERT K. B'JRT. WINE OFFICE COURT, FLEET STREET. INDEX A Drop of Pew . Algerine Felucca . A Little Child's Joy . Ancient History . Animalculee Arc. An PAGE . 197 45 . 214 . 65, 290 . 221 32 Artificial Pearls . . . .101 A Sister in Heaven to a Brother on Earth .... 268 Attraction of Gravitation . . 219 Autumnal Equinox . . 60 Beaver, The .... 21 Bee, The .... 202 Be Merry and Wise . . .50 Bible Lessons . . . 7, 26 i Birds. The 19 Boa Constrictor . . . 181 Boat Building . . . .114 Boy and Bird ... 79 Boy and Butterfly . . .103 Buoy 39 Brig, A 44 Building Materials . . 276 Busy Bee, The .... 206 Butterflies .... 210 Cannon 38 < apstan 39 Caterpillars . . . .211 Compass .... 39 Capillary Attraction . . . 219 Cathead 40 Chinese Junk .... 42 Christ, the Bread of Life . 77 Circle, A 3* Clouds ....... 190 Cone, A 33 Christ, the Living Water . 2 IS Conquest of Egypt, by Alex- ander 234 Crocodile, The . . . 286 Cutter, A 43 Cylinder, A .... 33 Cyrus, King of Persia . . 292 Danger 136 Dawn, The . . . .2(58 Death of Cleopatra . 234 Death of Sardanapalus Different Kinds of Ships Disingenupusness Dutch Galiot . Economy of the Bee . PACT: . 73 41 . 118 44 203 Egyptian Religion, Archi- tecture, Sculpture . . 237 Ellipsis, An .... 35 Equilateral Triangle . . 32 Expedition of the Shepherd Kings 227 Farm, The .... 257 Fire Ships 45 First Glass Houses . . Hi Flowers, The ... 17, 213 Form, On .... 31 Geordie and the Sick Dog . 312 Glass SO God, the Inscrutable . . .273 Gold Beaters .... 222 Good Nature .... 16 Gregorian Calendar . . 03 Heaving the Lead ... 40 Hexagonal Cube ... 34 History of Ancient Egypt . 227 History of the Assyrians and Babylonians .... 66 History, Geography, and Chro- nology .... 55 History 03 How Looking-glasses are made 101 How we should Remember our Creator .... 8 House Building . . . 274, 278 History of the Medea . . > History of the Lydians . . 2i)7 Invocation .... 12 Isosceles Triangle, An . . 32 Ivory 225 Lead Line 40 Lessons on the Lord's Prnyer 280 Life, Travels, and Adventures of Reuben Ramble . 147 Limby Lumpy . . . 250 Love 189 Magnanimity . . . 126 INDEX. PAGE Making of Cameos ... 95 Manufacture of Glass . . 85, 89 Manufacture of Mirrors . . 95 Mastodon and Megatherium 199 Mills and Grinding . . .260 Minuteness, Divisibility, and Indestructibility of Atoms 220 Moon, The .... 14 Musk 222 My Grandfather's Stories 46, 250, 304 Natural History . 21,181,202,246, 270, 282, 300 Nautilus, The . . . .282 Nebuchadnezzar . . , 291 Night 267 Object Lesson ... 300 Of Matter, its various states and properties . . . 218 Of the Year and its divisions 58 On Cause and Effect . . 217 On Nature and its Phenomena 215 Orphan Boy's Tale . . . 109 Oval, An .... 33 Parabola, A .... 33 Physics 215 Picture Lessons . 31, 257, 274 Plate Glass .... 91 Ploughing 257 Prayer 5 Prison, A 33 Puff-ball .... 222 Pyramid, A .... 33 Pyramids of Egypt . . 241 Quadrant, A .... 34 Queen Semiramis . . 69 Eadii 34, Red Lead .... 86 Retribution . . . .140 Reuben falsely accused . 158 Reuben's First Voynge . . 153 Rigging of Ships, On . 36 Rivers 193 Ruins of Luxor . . . 241 Ruins of Tentyra . . .243 Scalene Triangle, A . 32 Schooner, A .... 44 Sesostris, Cheops and Cephren 231 PAOB Sextant, A 3k Ships 35,41 Signs of the Zodiac ... 69 Sloop, A 43 Spider, The .... 25 Solon, the Great Legislator . 299 Spring Equinox ... 60 Square, A .... 33 Squirrel, The .... 208 Second Assyrian Empire . 29 > Seed Sowing . . . .259 Sennacherib .... 290 Skeleton of a Bird's Wing . 300 Stars, The .... 15 Stork, The 270 Story of a Boa Constrictor . 184 Story of Little Dick and the Giant 51 Story Related by Pliny . 83 Story of the Young Babbit Fancier 304 Summer Solstice ... 60 Sun, The 13 Teachings from Nature 10, 190, 2^7 The First Falsehood . . .118 The Lamb .... 107 The Selfish Boy . . . .111 The Si udy of History . . K-t Thrashing 260 Time 66 Thanksgiving for Existence . 2na The Ancient Kings of Egypt 227 The Dog 246 The Launch .... 140 The Sea 19.! The Sea Fight . . . 173 The Storm MO Tombs of Thebes ... 242 Triangle, A . . . 32 Wealth and Wonders of the Egyptians .... 210 Windlass .... 38 Winter Solstice .... 60 Wonders of Geology . . 199 Woods, The . . . .195 Zodiac, The .... 59 TILL] YOUNG STUDENT'S HOLIDAY BOOK. Mnsir aliens. A POTTERY ....... (/"/;,.?.) 169 THE BOUNTY IN A STO1IM 41 CYRUS PRESENTED TO HIS GRANDrATlIEH, ASTYAGES . . 1C7 SNOWDROP AND CROCUS 132 A BRIDGE IN SPAIN 115 VILLAGE CHURCH 192 ARCHITECTURE 201 LABUBNX'M . . . 2D9 THE TOUMG STUDENT'S HOLIDAY BOOK; EKING LESSONS ON ARCHITECTURE, MECHANICS, NATURAL HISTORY, PHYSICS, MANUFACTURE OF POTTERY, ETC. BY WILLIAM MARTIN. SEVENTH EDITION. ENLARGED AXD IMPROVED. "A work to amuse and instruct, to enlighten the mind, and purify the affections, " LONDON : JAMES BLACKWOOD & CO., LOVELL'S COURT, PATERNOSTER ROW. \The right of Translation is reserved.] LONDON: BOBBBT X. BT7ET, I-BINTEB, WINE OFFICE COUBT, FLEET SIBEEI. PKEPACE. IN tliis, the Second Series of the HOLIDAY BOOK, an attempt has been made to carry out the original idea of the work in a style commensurate with the pre- sumed advance of the youthful reader in all that relates to art, science, and history. Thus the present volume, while it contains much to amuse in the way of tale, anecdote, and poetry, will be found to consist of a due admixture of graver and more instructive subjects, such as the steam-engine, coal, and gas, the electric telegraph, the stereoscope, etc. The mind of a child, like its body, must be trained to simple efforts before the full exercise of its faculties can be brought into action ; and, while care must be taken that mental food of a too stimulating character be not presented, equal care is necessary that the sweets of fiction be not allowed to cloy the mental palate and injure its taste for the strong meat of truth and learning. This idea has been ever present to the Editor of the HOLIDAY BOOK ; and it is not without hesitation, therefore, that he places his little work before the parents and guardians of the youth of Great Britain. The fact, however, of many thou- IV. PBEFACE. sand copies of the book having been published, en- courages him to hope that this corrected and enlarged edition will attain the patronage and success accorded to its predecessors. It should be mentioned that the engravings in this edition of the HOLIDAY BOOK are quite new and have never before appeared. Care has also been taken to bring the references to scientific subjects up to the present state of knowledge. CONTENTS. PAGE A Clironological Epitome of the History of Architecture in England 267 Austrian Salt Mines 293 A Wild Boar Hunt 301 Bible Lessons 126, 187 Cleanliness 222 Coal and Gas 277 Conclusion ......... 310 Evening Prayer ........ 192 History of Macerlon 207 Persia 106 Lessons on Things A Bell 216 A Bridge 142 A Field Cannon 140 The Cart 221 The Horse and Harness . . . 220 Lessons on the Lord's Prayer .... 18, 129, 189 Mechanics Tlie Lever G3 The Pulley . . . . . . .73 The Inclined Plane. 76 The Wedge 78 The Screw 80 Morning Prayer 133 My Grandfather's Stories Field Teachers . . . .52 Playing at Soldiers . . . 225 The Two Friends ... 46 Natural History Bread Fruit 37 Extinct Species of Elephants . . 148 Story of the Bread Fruit . . .39 The Eagle 196 The Way in which Elephants are cap- tured 156 Whale and Whale Fifheries ... 28 Till. CONTENTS. TAGB Physics Motion 1 Gravitation, etc. ....... 5 , Central Forces 11 Inertia ........ 12 Picture Lessons Architecture 264 Poetry Beauty 24 Cheerfulness 136 Christ the Physician 15 Christ the Good Shepherd 60 Christ the Eock 185 Courage and Humanity 82 God everywhere 224 Evening Hymn 195 Hymn of Beauty 206 Praise the Lord 43 Eing out the Joy-Bells 292 The Horse 44 The Lark 59 The Laburnum Tree 299 The Lion 146 TheEainhow 139 The Snowdrop 132 The Transformation of the Caterpillar . . . 12 i The Violet 128 The Young 305 When I was Little ...... 309 Steam and the Steam-engine 86 Teachings from Nature Maternal Affection . . .25 The Glow Worm . . . .137 The Electric Telegraph 272 The Juvenile Lecturer Lect. I. Earthenware and Porcelain .... 166 Lect. II. Ancient Pottery 169 Lect. III. Porcelain Manufacture 173 Lect. IV. Preparation of Clay and Flints . . .175 Lect. V. Manufacture of Pottery 178 Lect. VI. Painting, Gilding, etc 181 The Pump . . . 261 The Stereoscope . 307 T!TE HOLIDAY BOOK. PHYSICS. Centripetal force. Centrifugal force. MOTION. A GkiECiAK philosopher being once asked to define motion, began to walk, and replied, " This is motion." Motion, therefore, signifies a change of place, and it implies the necessity of time and space. We know nothing of motion, only through our observation upon the relative change of bodies in regard to their distance from each other, or from their describing a certain space in a certain time, which is called their velocity. * B 2 TEE HOLIDAY BOOK. Motion may be rapid, as in the lightning ; slow, as in the shadow of the sun-dial ; straight, or rectilineal, as in the apparent path of a bullet dropped from the hand ; bent, or curvilinear, as in the track of the same bullet fired from a gun; uniform, when the motion continues the same ; accelerated, when it increases ; and retarded, when anything tends to lessen its velocity. The quantity, or force of motion in any moving body, is called its momentum. Two bodies will move with tie same force, if their velocities be to each other inversely When two or more forces, not in the same direction, act upon a body at the same time, as it cannot move two ways at once, it holds a middle course between the two direc- tions. This is called the resolution of forces. Thus, suppose a ship at sea, driven by the wind in the right line, A B, with such force as would carry it uniformly from A to B in one hour ; then suppose the stream or current running in the direction A D, with such force as would carry the ship to, through an equal space, from A to D, in one hour. By these two forces acting together at right angles to each other, the ship will describe the line A E 0, in one hour ; which line will be the diagonal of an exact square. Instances of this law : A kite acted upon by the wind and string ; a fish striking the water with its tail ; a boat rowed across the river, where there is a current. The alteration of motion is always proportional to the moving force impressed, and in the same direction in which that force is impressed. "When in shooting at the taw, you hit it plump, as it is called, it moves forward exactly in the same line of direction in which it was struck ; but, if you hit it sideways, it will move in an oblique direction, and its course will be a line situated between the direction of its former motion, and that of the force impressed. B2 ft THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Action is always contrary, and equal to re-action or the actions of two bodies upon each other, equal and in contrary directions. If you force your hand on the table directly down- wards, the table presses upward ; when a horse draws a load, the load, from its weight, acts as if drawing him back. You must not, however, think that this illustration of the law, action and re-action being always equal, means that the table really exerts a force upwards, because you press down upon it : it simply does not yield to your pressure, and may, therefore, be said to offer resistance. The recoil of guns fired in a ship proves this law, or of a fowling piece from the shoulder. A ship in chase, by firing her bow guns, retards her motion ; by firing from the stern she quickens it. There was once a very foolish person, who thought he had found the means of obtaining always a fair wind for his pleasure-boat, so he erected an enormous pair of bellows at the stern. Just in proportion as the wind from the bellows pressed forward the sail, so did the resistance of the sail press back the bellows, so no motion was obtained. Hence, in every case of hard bodies striking each other, they may be regarded, for the sake of illustra- tion, as compressing a very small strong spring between them. When any elastic body, as a billiard-ball, strikes another larger than itself, and rebounds, it gives to that other not only all the motion which it originally possessed (this being done at the moment when it comes to rest), but an additional quantity, equal to that PHYSICS. 5 with which it recoils, owing to the equal action, in both directions, of the repulsion, or spring, which causes the recoil. When the difference of size between the bodies is very great, the returning velocity of the smaller is nearly as great as its advancing motion was, and thus it gives a momentum to the body struck, nearly double of what it originally possessed itself. This phenomena is one of the most striking in. physics, and seems to constitute the paradoxical cause of an effect being greater than its cause; and this has led persons, imperfectly acquainted with the subject, to seek from the principle a perpetual motion. ATTRACTION OF GBAVITATION, COHESION, BEPITL- SIOK, ETC. The two great forces of nature are attraction and repulsion. The attraction of gravitation, or gravity, is that force which causes all bodies near the earth to tend towards its centre, with a force proportionate to their respective quantities of matter, without any re- gard to their bulk or figure. It accordingly con- stitutes their weight. It is by this power that descending bodies, on every side, fall on lines perpendicularly to the surface, and, consequently, on opposite sides they fall in opposite directions, and towards the centre, where the force of gravity is said to be accumulated ; and by the 6 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. same attraction bodies are kept on the earth's sur- face, so that they cannot fall from it. (See cut. ) All bodies that we know of possess gravity, or weight. There is no such thing as perfect lightness. Smoke ascends, only because it is lighter than the atmosphere ; as cork swims, only because it is lighter than water. If the water be withdrawn, the cork sinks ; if the air be withdrawn, as it is possible, by the air-pump, the smoke will sink, like the cork. Sir Isaac Newton demonstrated, that the attractive force of the earth decreases above its surface, in the same proportion that the square of the distance in- creases ; and also, that the gravity of a body decreases below the earth's surface, in proportion to its distance from the centre. Thus a body, which weighs on the earth's surface one pound, will, at two thousand miles from the centre, weigh but half a pound ; at one thousand miles from the centre, but a quarter of a pound ; and so on, until at the centre it loses all its weight. The force of gravity, or general attraction, is such PHTSIC3. at the surface of the earth, that in the first second of time it gives to a body allowed to fall a velocity of Space Min. 9 sixteen feet in the first second, forty-eight in the second, and eighty in the third. Knowing this law, we can easily tell the height of any high body, such as a tower or monu- ment, by noting the time taken for a small body to fall. The annexed table shows the rate at which bodies fall ; each of the triangular portions representing six- teen feet, the figure on the sides the minutes. OF THE CENTRE OF GRAVITY. The centre of gravity in a body, is that point about which all its other parts equally balance each other. You have often balanced a stick on your finger, or upon your chin. In performing this feat, it is only necessary to keep your chin or finger exactly undar the point, which is called the centre of gravity. The method of finding the centre of gravity will depend entirely upon the form of the body. If in a cylindrical rod, it is only necessary to balance it, and the centre upon which it turns (you must here under- stand the centre of the rod itself, not the centre of its circumference) will, of course, be the centre of gravity ; if of a circular flat body, it will be the centre of the circumference ; if of a sphere, the centre of the sphere. 8 THE HOLIDAY LOOK. The centre of gravity of a cylinder will be the same as that of the balanced rod, that of the cone at the point G, which is nearer the base. Thus it will be seen that broadness of base, and low- ness of centre, are necessary to insure stability. Thus, if a line from the centre of gravity on the following block falls outside the base of the object, as in a a, the body will fall ; if it falls on the base, b b, it will totter; if within the base, as at e, it will be secure. If you wish to find the centre of gravitny i a board, for instance, of the following, or similar shape, re- presented by the figures a, e, b, d, let it be suspended from any point, as a, and the cord of a plummet, a b, be attached to the same point, the centre of gravity of the board must be somewhere in the direc- tion of the plummet, (as you may see in the cut,) and a chalk line, left on the board, must pass over the centre of gravity. PHYSICS. If the board be then suspended at another point, at d, and another chalk line, d e, be made in the same, the place c, where the two lines cut each other, will be the centre of gravity ; and the board, when supported by a cord, attached there, will be equally balanced. From want of attention to the centre of gravity, wagons and stage coaches, laden heavily on the top, will, upon coming on a road slightly inclined, immediately upset. If, as in the former case, a line from the centre falls within the edge of the wheel, which is here the ex- treme of the base, no danger need be apprehended ; if with- out it, the wagon will fall over. In rope-dancing it is neces- sary for the performer to have a long pole, loaded at its two ends. When he finds himself inclining too much in one direction, he throws out his pole in the opposite point, and thus recovers his balance, by bringing the centre of gravity vertically over' the rope. There is a building in Italy called the Leauiug 10 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Tower of Pisa, wliieli looks as if it were about to fall. It was built intentionally inclining, to perplex and surprise. With a height of one hundred and thirty feet, it overhangs its base sixteen feet ; but its centre of gravity falls considerably within the base, and therefore it is secure. The principle of the centre of gravity is also seen in the logan, or rocking stones. These are immense mounds, naturally poized, with the centre of gravity so exactly over the point which supports them, that they can be moved with a push of the finger. Some of these are held in superstitious veneration, and, not long ago, the Logan stone was wilfully displaced by the coast-guard in Cornwall, but has since been set up. But the charm has fled ; that is to] say, the per- sons were unable to place it again in exactly the same position, so that it does not rock easily. The centre of gravity in our bodies must constantly be adjusted, or we should be continually falling. "When we walk up a hill we lean forward ; when we walk down we lean backward ; when we stand on one foot we lean sideways ; in each case, that the centre of gravity may overhang the base. "When a man rises from a chair, he first bends his body consider- ably forward, and draws his feet backward. A man who carries a load on his head walks erect ; he who carries a load on his back stoops ; and he who carries it in his arms leans backward. A man standing with his heels close to a perpendi- cular wall, cannot pick up anything laid before him, because the wall prevents his throwing part of his body back, to counterbalance the head and arms, PHYSICS. 11 which must project forward. Many a wager has been won, and many a laugh raised, by setting thoughtless persons to do this. CENTBAL FOBCES. Those actions or motions of bodies, which have re- ference to a fixed point, or centre, bear the common name of central forces. These forces again bear the name of centripetal, or centrifugal. The centripetal force has a tendency to urge a body towards the centre, as in a whirlpool at sea, or a whirl- wind on land. This force is exhibited in the cut at the head of this paper. It may also be called gravity. The centrifugal force has a tendency to throw a body from the centre, as in the water from a mop, when it is trundled ; the mud that flies from a wheel when it is turning ; or water from your top, when it spins, after having been in the water. (See cut.) One of the most practical illustrations of the cen- trifugal force, is to be found in the mill-stones. The grain is, you know, introduced into the centre of the stones, while the inner stone is rapidly whirling ; the grain partakes of the motion, and is, by the centri- fugal force, thrown out in the shape of flour, at the circumference. Another practical illustration of the centrifugal force, is seen in the governor-balls, as they are called, of a steam- engine. If you take a pair of tongs, and, holding them by the knob, whirl them round, you will find the legs fly open. Mr. Watt adopted this principle in such a way, that when 12 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. the steam-engine was going too fast, the balls, open- ing by the centrifugal force, closed a valve which let in the steam, and so reduced the action. By the centrifugal force, the earth, instead of being a perfect sphere, is what is called an oblate spheroid, bulging out seventeen miles at the equator, in conse- quence of its daily rotation. In the planets Jupiter and Saturn, whose rotation is much quicker, the equator bulges out still more. The knowledge of the action of the centrifugal force is of great practical use as regards health. If a person were to be laid on a wheel, with his head to the circumference, when the whole came in motion, the blood would fly towards his head, and occasion apoplexy. Thus the roundabouts at a fair are in- jurious, while swings are comparatively innoxious. In one case the head is near, and iu the other far from the centre, which makes the difference. IKEETIA. The tendency which a body has to remain in its existing state, unless moved by some active cause, 13 called inertia. By this term we understand, that a body at rest will continue for ever at rest, unless put in motion by some external cause ; and, if in motion, would con- tinue for ever in a state of rectilineal motion, unless stopped by some external cause. When you shoot your marble from your knuckle, you find that, after rolling to a certain distance, it stops. Why ? Because the earth, being rough, affords resistance, which it cannot overcome; for a PHYSICS. 13 body once put in motion, falls immediately under the power of other influences beside that which first gave it motion. The following experiments exhibit the tendency of a body, when at rest, to remain in that state. Let a small card be placed upon one of the fingers of the left hand, and over the card, and immediately above the finger a small piece of money ; if, then, a smart blow be given to the card by the fore or middle finger of the right hand, the card will pass from under the money, which will be left upon the linger. If a thin, smooth piece of wood be laid over two vine-glasses, and immediately above the glasses two pieces of money, then, upon giving one of the ends , Jerusalem, with all such Jews as were willing to follow him thither, in order to re-establish the Jewish government and religion, and to regulate both agree- 122 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. ably to their own laws. Artaxerxes is the Ahasuerus of Scripture. After this, the Egyptians again revolted, but these Artaxerxes subdued. He also terminated the war with Athens, by granting freedom to the Greek cities of Asia, and died in peace, 425 B.C. After Artaxerxes, Xerxes the Second reigned only forty-one days, and Darius Nothus, who carried on many wars with success, under the conduct of his generals and his son Cyrus. He died 401 B.C., after a reign of nineteen years, and was succeeded by his son, Artaxerxes the Second ; who asked him, on his death bed, what had been the guide of his conduct in the management of his empire, that he might imitate him. "The dictates oi justice and of religion" re- plied the expiring monarch. Artaxerxes the Second was surnamed Memnon, by the Greeks, because of his extraordinary memory. His name was Arsases, which he changed into Arta- xerxes, on coming to the throne. The brother of Artaxerxes, named Cyrus, was of a very ambitious temper, and resolved to make him- self king, in opposition to his brother. Cyrus, who had been appointed governor of Lydia and the sea coasts, assembled a large army, under various pre- tences, and at last marched against Artaxerxes, at the head of 100,000 barbarians, and 13,000 Greeks. The king opposed him, however, with 900,000 men, and a bloouy battle was fought at Cunaza, in which Cyrus was killed, and his forces routed. The Greeks who had assisted Cyrus, although at the distance of 600 leagues from their own country, HISTOET OF PEESIA. 123 made their way through the territories of the enemy ; and nothing is more famous in the Greek history than the retreat of the ten thousand. After Artaxerxes was delivered from the attacks of his brother, he endeavoured to weaken the power of Greece, but without effect. Towards the close of his life he named his eldest son, Darius, to be his suc- cessor, who, however, conspired against his father, and was put to death ; and Ochus, one of the younger sons, made his way to the throne by causing his two elder brothers to be assassinated. It is said that Artaxerxes died of a broken heart, in consequence of his son's unnatural behaviour, in the forty-ninth year of his age, after a reign of twenty-six years, 538 B.C. Ochus, called Artaxerxes the Third, established himself on his father's throne by murdering above eighty of his nearest relations. He punished with death one of his officers who conspired against him ; and recovered Egypt, which had revolted, destroyed Sidon, and ravaged all Syria. His excessive cruelty excited his subjects against him, and Bagoas at last prevailed upon his physician to poison him, 337 B.C. Bagoas was the eunuch who held one of the highest offices in the state of Persia, and he made choice of Darius, surnamed Codomanus, to succeed Artaxerxes, in hopes that he would be subservient to his will ; but, when he saw him despise his advice, and aim at inde- pendence, he proposedto poison him. Darius discovered his perfidy, and made him drink the poison himself. The remainder of the life of Darius, with that also of Alexander the Great, who occasioned the downfall of the Persian Empire, will be found in the History of Mace don. 124 THE TKANSFOKMATION OF THE CATEEPILLAE INTO THE BUTTERFLY. SOMETHING will preach "Unto our hearts from, out the very dust, That God is faithful, and our spirits teach In Him to trust. Children hehold Behold this crawling caterpillar ! now Its way is earthy, lingering, and cold, Grovelling and low. Now it must creep, Bound to the earth by Nature's sacred ties ; Anon 'twill fall into a deathless sleep, And then arise. For, soft and bright, Within its earthy form a being lives, Purer and fairer, more a thing of light And this survives. When turned to dust, The outward husk falls off; then, then it shows Its second nature, lovelier than its first, In glory glows : Springs up, awake, A child of the bright sun, and bids adieu To earth, and of a heavenlier garb partakes, And lives anew. THE CATEEPILLAB. 125 Oh ! semblance sweet Of man's translation from this dusty sphere ; Who would not learn, and learning still, repeat A lesson here ! Oh ! know you not, Sweet innocents, that you will pass away, And that this outward form will fade and rot, In cold cold clay ? But yet, be sure, Within abides the soul, fashioned to soar, That, when the world hath perished, will endure For evermore. And, more than this "When Christ the resurrection is will rise To life eternal, and to endless blisa Beyond the skies. 126 BIBLE LESSON. " Suffer little children to come unto me and forbid them not." 4JESTJS CHEIST loved little children, lie took them (^ up in his arms and blessed them, and said, " Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid, them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." . Do you not wish you had been those children whonr Jesus took up in his arms and kissed and embraced ?' How delightful it would have been for you to have looked in your Saviour's face, and to have heard his blessing pronounced upon you. Tell me! Do you think that our blessed Saviour received little children eagerly ? Yes, he did, indeed,, and reproved those who would have kept them away from him. He took a little child and set him in the midst, and said, " of such is the kingdom of God." And why ? Because the little children who are God's children, are meek and mild, and fall of faith. They know they are helpless, and look up to their heavenly parent for help and succour. Would you, my little children, like to see your Saviour's face, and to feel his blessing upon you? Then come to him. Nothing can keep you away but evil thoughts and wicked deeds ; he still cries come. Come now. As you grow up, the world's wicked- ness, with a host of bad passions, that now you know not of, will join with your evil nature and forbid you to come. Come', that is, devote thyself to his service. BIBLE LESSON. 127 Come to Mm in prayer. Come to him in praise and thanksgiving, Come to him in gratitude. Come to him in hope. Come to him in faith. Come to him. in love. Come. Is not this a sweet word ? The bird that calls its young chickens to her when they are in danger, seems to say come. The bleat of the lamb for its young seems to utter come, and the little lamb hastens in joy to its side, and the little chickens run and nestle under their parent's wing. The sun seems to say come, when it draws the waters from the wide sea, and brings them up in showers to water the earth; he says come, when he- calls the blossom from the bud, and the full ripe grain from the ear. As the hen calls its chicken, and the ewe its lamb, as the sun would call forth the blossom from the bud so it is that Christ says come to a little child, come, that I may love i\\QQ,feed thee, and Mess thee. Come will be the welcome word of Christ to the saints into eternity. Christ will say, " Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." Hear, then, the voice of thy Saviour, little child, and come. 128 THE VIOLET. DOST thou not love the lonely glade, Where sunbeams seldom come, And though thy bed be in the shade, Put forth thy early bloom As sweetly as the proudest flower That ever graced a monarch's bower ? Though many a briar and many a thorn Thy meek-eyed bloom conceal, Yet from thy lips some charms are borne, Which more their bloom reveal Odours that no rude thorn can kill, Tliat speak of thee, though hidden stilL So many a good man treads his way, His charity obscure and lone, And hidden from the genial ray That might have made it known, From haunts obscure, with shaded mien, Would charm and bless a world unseen. So many a spirit sweet, like thee, Can bear the rude world's frown, And blossom for eternity, Unhonoured and unknown ; Yet no less heaven's own native gem Than those who wear a diadem. 129 LESSONS ON THE LOED'S PEAYER. "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us." A TRESPASS is a wrong committed against another. We commit, every day, trespasses against God. Every sin, every evil thing we do or think, is a trespass against him. On account of our trespasses, God is, therefore, justly angry with us. Our trespasses against God are more wicked than those which man commits against man. First, because they are against the Great Being who made us. It is the rebellion of the creature against its Creator, of the servant against its Lord, of the culprit against its Judge. Our trespasses against God are the more wicked also, because God not only created us, but preserves us, and provides for us, and is very good to us at all times. When we commit sin, therefore, it is like striking at the wing that would shield us, and biting at the hand stretched forth to give us food. If God had done no more than created us, and afforded us protection and preservation, it would be exceedingly wicked for us to disobey his commands, and we might justly merit condemnation. But, my little children, remember, that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. What then must our wickedness be if we transgress against God, after he, in the midst of our wickedness, sent his own Son to bear the punishment for us ! To suffer, when we ought to have suffered to give in 130 THE HOLIDAY BOOE. return for our evil a higher and a better good than any yet bestowed upon us namely, the salvation of our souls. When we commit sin, therefore, we not only defy the God who made us turn upon the God who is good to us but also spurn his highest and most glorious gift, immortality, and laugh to scorn the sacrifice of Christ made upon the cross. We, indeed, may be said to crucify him afresh. Yet we commit sin we trespass against God; but still, when we repent and are truly sorry for our misdeeds, Jesus Christ obtains forgiveness for us, and our transgressions are remembered no more. Christ, in teaching us to pray, would have us re- member all this, and therefore we are taught to say " Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us" Jesus Christ set us this ex- ample he prayed for his murderers, " Father, for- give them ; they know not what they do." But remember, my dear little child, that you not only pray when you say the Lord's Prayer for God to forgive you, but you also pray that he may not forgive you. Yes, you pray to God to forgive you your tres- passes only as you forgive others, you pray that you may have no mercy shown to you if you should be unmerciful, you pray that just as you act towards others, so you would have God act towards you. This is an awful thought but it is true. Do you know that this part of the Lord's Prayer is the only part upon which Jesus Christ offered any comment ? Jle did so that men might thoroughly understand the LESSORS ON THE LOED'S PEAYEE. 131 terms upon which alone forgiveness was offered to them ; he said, " For, if you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your heavenly Father forgive you." Think then when, on your bended knees, you offer up to the throne of grace the prayer of our Lord, that if any hatred, or malice, or uncharitableness, or revengefulness, exist in your breast, you pray in vain for forgiveness. It is the condition upon which for- giveness is offered namely, to forgive. But, it is not only when we draw near to God in prayer that we are to forgive those who trespass against us; we should endeavour to forgive even at the time the injury is committed. Christ, while expiring in agony on the cross, forgave those who were railing at him and mocking him. Forgiveness is the distinguishing mark of the Chris- tian faith; it is the key-stone that binds the whole arch together. Forgiveness was the object of God in the redemption of mankind. The highest manifestation of Divine love is to forgive the transgressor : it is the loftiest feeling of the human heart, and shows itself most fully when the heart is illuminated by Divine grace. Believe then, my child, that while you continue to harbour in your bosom any ill-will towards another, while you refuse to do a kindness because you have been wronged, while you return evil for evil, and not good, you are not a member of Christ, nor a child of God, nor an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven. 132 THE SNOWDEOR H .HOU living pearl, that to the snow ^^ Proop'st sweetly thy untainted bell, Doth not thy lovely aspect show, Doth not thy speckless blossom tell, Far more than mortal hand can trace, Of virgin chastity and grace ? When all around is chill and drear, And many a cloud obscures the sky, Thy form peeps forth, to glad and cheer The lingering heart and anxious eye Gives token of the bud and bloom That with more sunny hours will come. So Hope should cheer us, when we feel The evils of life's wint'ry day ; And throw her buds around, and steal, In blossoms, o'er our dreary way ; And yield a charm more bright than gold, Where all is sad and all is cold. So Faith within the Christian's breast Doth meekly live and blossom still, Though all around may be deprest, And many a frost may strive to kill ; Nor fails in darksome days to bring Tokens of an eternal spring. Snowdrop. Crocus. 133 H0BNING PEAYEE. Ix is morning, beautiful morning, with her ten thousand charms ; the dew-diamonds sparkle joyously in the first beams of the sun ; there is a sweet odour in the breath of the soft winds ; the clouds smile from one end of heaven to the other ; and the birds, from a gentle twitter to a full chorus, unite in the hallelujah to Heaven. A spirit of joy seems to be breathed through the earth and through the sky. And now it is we can feel and bless the Power which said, " Let there be light," which set a tabernacle for the sun in the heavens, and made him the shedder of glory to all nations of the earth. "We hear not yet the busy hum of men : the voice of the far city, which gives token of turmoil and strife, has not yet woke into discord. "Worldly cares and pleasures have not yet broken upon the joyous tran- quillity of this scene. The heart, too, arises from the calmness of sleep : it is less feverish, it is more awake to goodness than in the busy day. It seems to wish to lift itself to heaven, or it is drawn thither. It is a season for praise and prayer; and what mercies have we to be thankful for? what mercies should we implore? "We should bend, then, before the Author of all, in gratitude and supplication. But now I was in a state of exhaustion, stretched on the bed of sleep how little varied from the bed of death ! My limbs were motionless, my thoughts were suspended, or only wandered confusedly my senses 134 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Avere shut. But I arose to life and consciousness, to enjoy all I hear and all I see ; to feel myself a living thing, and triumph in existence. When I could not think, God thought of me ; when I was powerless and prostrate, God was my shield and defender; when I could not avert a peril, God kept watch over me. He continued all the vital mo- tions of the ever-beating heart; kept in their order the various functions of life ; and, in due and proper time, has again set the mind and faculties free, and endowed them with new vigour and strength. Is not this, then, a time for gratitude and praise ? Should I not employ, in thanksgiving, the tongue that he has loosed? Should I not rejoice in him in the first "beatings of that heart which he has sustained during the darkness of sleep ? Should not the breath that he has spared, rise up before him in the incense of a song ? I now go into the world ; I am about to mingle with the busy throngs of men, where too often God i forgotten ; where the present hour is alone considered; where self-aggrandisement is the ruling passion ; where things are perishable. This day I may receive impres- sions which may not be effaced even in eternity ; may meet temptations which may subdue me. I may be called upon to perform actions which will fit me for heaven or hell. Surely, existence is an awful thing; the responsibility is too great for man alone. How needful then is prayer, to the Father of all mercies ; that he, who sustained me in the lesser dan- gers of sleep, may sustain me in the greater dangers- MOBBING- PEATEB. 135 of my \vaking hours. If God thought of me when I could not think of him, will he not preserve me when I adore him, and call upon him? Thus armed, exist- ence is alone endurable ; the day is no longer uncertain in its issue ; the dangers which surround, and the trials which perplex, will not annoy me. The changes that await me need not he feared ; and, should this be my last day, I shall have hope. 136 CHEEEFTJLNESS. H, why should our eyes be less sparkling and bright? And why should we suffer the bloom Of the cheek to pass off in its swallow-like flight, When life's dreary season is come ? For that season may fling some seeds that will bring BEIGHT FLOWEETS TO BLOOM IN AN UNENDING sriuKO. And why should our pleasures grow sear on the brow? And why should their sweet blossoms fade? Though time passeth swiftly, and seemeth to throw Around us his pinions to shade; Yet each swift hour that hies, and each moment that flics, BUT BEINGS THE SOFT SPIEIT MOEE NEAB TO THE SKIES. And why should the smile be forbidden to play Round the lip, or be shut from the heart ? Though the desolate grave may yawn grim on our way, What glooms should its presence impart? 'Tis a mansion of rest to the weak and oppressed, AND THE POSTAL THAT LEADS TO THE BEALJIS OF THE BLESSED. 137 TEACHINGS FROM NATUKE. THE GLOW-WORM. Go, in the soft, sweet, quiet, summer eve, when the air is kind and warm, and not a ripple is seen upon the lake when the night throws her dim shadows round, and when the songs of the birds have ceased go and take a lesson from a little worm. Go, make the glow-worm's light a taper by which to read the works of God ; let it beam into thy heart. See, on the mossy bank it shineth, turning the dark grass into a pavilion of light. It looks like the reflection of a star, a living diamond on the grassy mead ; yet it is far more beau- tiful and glorious. The star feels not for another star, though each star may be a sun ; but this little worm lights up the lamp of affection and of love. Yes, it has some brother worm to love ; some little thing, lowly as itself, to whom it turns with joy, and whom it would light with gladness. Not in the glare of day; not in the bright and sunny hour, when all is gay and joyous ; but when the night is dim, and the shadows are upon the earth, then it is the little glow-worm shineth. Oh ! little children, have you not some one to love like this ? Have you not a mother, a brother, a sister, or a friend, upon whom your love may shine like the light of this little glow-worm, brighter when the hour is darkest ? Life, without some one to love in it, is but of little worth. Just as the sun is to the world so is affection 138 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. to the human soul its light, its joy, its life. lie- that has not some one to love is indeed wretched. When we love a brother, a sister, or a friend with a pure and holy love, we shine in our heavenly Father's sight far more brightly than this little worm shines in ours. Let not, then, the sinful darkness of this world put out the love burning in our hearts and shining in our deeds for those we ought to love ; but rather let the pure beams of our affection turn that darkness into light, that others may love us as we love. 130 THE EAINBOW. H ! beautiful arch of the sky, Like thcc, lovely HOPE still appears, Given out by some light from on high, To throw smiles in the midst of our tears ; And with beauty and brightness, in grief to illume, The depths of our sorrow, and clouds of our gloom. When the cloud-covered aspect of heaven Is more gloomy, and darksome, and drear, A double display then is given Of thy image still lovely and clear ; Like faith to the Christian's heaven-gazing eye, Increasing in brightness when perils draw nigh. And thy colours so happily blending, A type of that faith seem to be, "Which, although diverse, is still ending In one ray of LIGHT, Lord, from thee : And, like thy proud pillars, seems formed to embrace In harmonious concord the whole human race. Then, oh ! glory and light of the storm, Whene'er on thy beauty we gaze, May some token be given to warm Our bosoms to rapturous praise Unto Him whose good Spirit in mercy doth rest, In its beauty and light, on the storm-ruffled breast. IdO LESSONS OX THINGS. A Field Cannon. took their name from the French word canne, a reed. Before their invention machines were used for throwing enormous stones. These were imitated from the Arabs, and called ingenia, whence engineer. The first cannon were made of wood, wrapped in numerous folds of linen, and well secured by iron hoops. The true date of the use of metallic cannon cannot be ascertained ; it is certain, however, that they were in use about the middle of the fourteenth century. The Swedes used leaden cannons between the years 1620 and 1632. They were lined with plates of wood or copper, and secured on the outside by iron rings. The general opinion is, that cannons were fir.-t made use of in 1336 or 1338. They were certainly used by the English in 1347, at the siege of Calais ; and by the Venetians, at Chiaggia, in 13G6 ; and in their wars with the Genoese, in 1379 and 1380. The Turks employed them at the sieges of Constantinople in 1394 and 1453. In the commencement of the sixteenth century, LESSONS ON THINGS. 4 Maurice, of Switzerland, discovered a method of casting cannon whole, and boring them, so as to draw out the interior at a single piece. In 1740, cannons were made of ice at St. Petersburgh ; and balls of many pounds weight were projected, without injuring the pieces. A cannon consists of two parts, the cannon pro- per, and its carriage. "With regard to the cannon itself, the interior is called its bore; the thick solid portion behind is called the breecTi, which terminates in the lattery ; the two small handles on each side of the piece are called the dolphins; the aperture through which the fire is introduced in the bore is called the toucli-lwle, in which a small tube, containing the priming, is placed previous to firing ; the part from which the ball issues is called the muzzle. The supports, which are denominated carriages, are mounted on trucks, as in the case of ship guns or garrison guns ; or on two wheels, as in the case of field-pieces, of which an example is given. "When a field-piece is to be moved, a two-wheeled frame is fixed to the carriage, which is called a limber, and this process is called to limber up. The charge, or cartridge, is a bag filled with powder, carried near the cannon. The cannon is fired by means of the match, which is a lighted bunch of tow wound round a small stick, or a tube filled with combustible matter. On board many English ships there are cannon fired by means of percussion locks. To perform the labour required in managing cannon is called to serve the gur.s. Cannon are cast in a solid mass of metal, either of iron or brass ; they are then bored by being placed 142 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. upon a machine, which causes the whole mass to turn round very rapidly. The boring tool being pressed against the cannon thus revolving, a deep hole is made in it, called the lore. Cannons of wrought iron, and of immense size, are now being made. They are expected to prove much superior to those of cast-metal. Centering of a Bridge. A BRIDGE. A bridge is a road or path carried over a river. The first, or primitive, bridge, was, perhaps, a tree thrown over a stream, which could not be very wide. Step- ping-stones, in shallow rivers, covered with planks from stone to stone, exhibit the first rude idea of stones and arches, which science has brought to the present perfection. In deeper rivers an accumulation of stones would form a loftier pier ; and when the openings were suffi- ciently narrow, and the slabs of stone sufficiently long, they would, probably, be placed across, and thus a larger bridge would be constructed. In early times, the use of bridges over broad rivers was not thought of ships, boats, and rafts, answered LESSORS ON THINGS. 143 all purposes ; but when large numbers of people dwelt together, and formed cities, the necessity of land com- munication between the two sides of a river was felt, and bridges were constructed. The first step in building a bridge is to prepare a coffer-dam, or water-tight chamber, by driving piles in the bed of the stream, filling their interstices with clay, and pumping out the water within the enclosure. The foundation of the bridge is then laid, and the piers are erected, with their greatest length in the direction of the stream, to the height from which they are to expand into the arch ; that is, just above high- water mark. The process of centering now commences : a frame- work of wood, composed of many pieces, is made, as seen in the engraving. This is elevated by a pair of high shears, like those used for placing the mast of a vessel in the seat. After this is made quite firm and secure, the stones are formed, and laid archways over it, so as to form the arch. The weight of the immense mass of stones pressing on the wooden frame would prevent its being removed but for a clever contrivance. The base of each line of timbers rests on a series of wedges, so that every blow of the hammer, applied to the point of the wedge, loosens it ; and thus it is easily taken to pieces, leav- ing the enormous masses of stone forming the arch suspended in mid-air, and tied together, as it were, by the stone in the centre, called the key-stone. Bridges have been made of rope, stone, brick, wood, iron, and chain-work. Germany is the place for wooden bridges, as England is for iron. South Ame- 144 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. rica furnishes many instances of rope bridges, over which the natives pass to and fro, being swung in a cradle or bands, and pulled backwards and forwards by ropes. Other bridges, formed by bamboo canes, may be walked over, though the motion is not very agreeable to Europeans. It is by means of a rope bridge, of extraordinary length, which may be traversed by loaded mules, that the South Americans have succeeded, within these few years, of establishing a permanent communication between the towns of Quito and Lima. In England, suspension-bridges are made of iron. The most celebrated is that over the Menai Strait, between the isle of Anglesea and Caernarvonshire, in "Wales. It was finished in 1825. The roadway is 100 feet above the surface of water at high tide ; the opening between the points of suspension is 560 feet. The whole is suspended from four lines of strong iron cables, by perpendicular cords, 5 feet apart. The cables pass through rollers, on the top of pillars, and are fixed to the frames under ground, which are kept Menai Bridge. clown by strong masonry. The weight of the whole bridge, between the points of suspension, is 489 tons. LESSONS ON THINGS. 1-15 The great advantage of suspension bridges consists in their stability of equilibrium, in consequence of which a smaller amount of materials is necessary for their construction than for that of any other bridge. If a suspension bridge be shaken, or thrown out of its equilibrium, it returns by its own weight to its proper place. "Wooden bridges are usually supported upon piles, driven into the earth, at short distances, or upon frames of timber ; but, in deep and powerful currents, they must be supported by strong piers and abutments. The bridge, between these piers, consists of a stiff frame of carpentry, so constructed, that it may act as one piece, and may not bend or break with its own weight. The strongest wooden bridges are made with curved ribs, which rise above the abutments in the form of an arch. A remarkable suspension bridge has been erected over a rapid stream in the northern part of India ; it consists entirely of cane and iron fastenings. Upon the whole, it is lighter than a rope bridge. It is 130 feet long, and 5 wide. The canes, which are from 100 to 225 feet long, and from 1 to 2 inches in diameter, are brought from the north-eastern frontier, where they may be had for the trouble of collecting them. THE LION. IT I ONARCH of the sunny plain, With regal brow and flowing inane., There is a dignity and pride With every step of thine allied And thine eye, so full and glorious, Seems like a thing o'er fear victorious ; Thine arm, gigantic, seems to hold A slumbering thunder in its fold ; Thy firm knit foot and ponderous patv, Thy horrid teeth and iron jaw, Speak terror, as thy awful roar Swells, like the sea, upon the shore. Yet, greater than thy strength, thy mind Hath nobleness within it shrined ; Thy courage, though it well may darc r Yet oft is braver still to spare : An injury I've learn'd to brook, Thou say'st, in that immortal look Feeling that high revenge is worn Best in a smile of noble scorn. Noble lion, may I be Like thee in strength and dignity, Against all wickedness and sin, Beheld without or felt within ; Have nobleness of soul and mind To leave temptation far behind ; And know no terror in my way, And feel no fear by night or day And all that may become a man, Dare boldly through life's little span : THE LI02T. Be ever fearless as a king, Except to do an evil thing. O Thou that madest the lion, give To me such strength, that I may live, Not to myself, but unto thee, From every fear or terror free : Oh ! let my arm in joy extend, The weak and powerless to defend : And be it ever free to fight For right against the power of might. 147 I 2 NATURAL HISTORY. EXTINCT SPECIES OF ELEPHANTS. ACCORDING to the classification of Cuvier, the ele- phant is a genus of pachydermatous (thick-skinned) mammalia, belonging to the genera prolosidea, or animals which have a very long nose, a trunk, or proboscis. The elephant is a very remarkable animal on many accounts. First, in point of size and strength, it stands foremost in the whole class of land animals ; next, it is remarkable from there being only two spe- cies of it, the Asiatic and the African, although there NATUBAL HISTOEY. 4 are several varieties, apparently the result of tlie climate in which it lives. There is, however, a third species of elephant, which adds to the interest of the animal. This species is, however, now no more it is extinct ; it no longer dwells upon our earth, and is only known to have existed from its enormous remains, which have been dug up in various places. These remains are abundant in the northern parts both of Asia and Europe ; and some have been found in England, and also in North America. The fossil elephant (elephas primogenitus) appears to have been somewhat larger than those of the present race ; its body was thicker, and its frame stronger and more robust, as appears from the form and character of the bones. These bones were dug up in various places, at various times, and were sometimes supposed to have been the bones of giants ; but when one of the tusks of the animal was found, it immediately upset the theory of the giants ; for although many of them had terrible teeth, according to the legends generally believed, yet the tusks of an elephant, weighing 60 or 70lbs.,must have been rather too large a mouthful for the highest order of giants. These tusks were found in immense quantities by the inhabitants of Siberia, and formed an article of commerce, as ivory, for many years ; and the remains of the animal itself, although not entire, were so numerous in many parts of that country, that they formed large banks, and almost entire islands, in the lower parts of the great rivers, near their confluences with the Polar Ocean. It ia but recently that these 150 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. remains have been found in an entire skeleton, or that persons, sufficiently skilled in comparative anatomy, have joined them, bone to bone, in the same relative situations which they must have held during the life of the animal. The most perfect specimen of the fossil elephant is one which was cast ashore, frozen in an icy tomb, upon the north coast of Asia, about fifty years ago. A Tungusian fisherman observed a strange, shapeless mass projecting from an ice-bank, near the mouth of a river in the north of Siberia, the nature of which he did not understand, and which was so high in the bank as to be beyond his reach. The next year the fisherman observed the same object, but could not make out what it was ; but, at last, when the ice began to thaw by the hot sun, he could distinctly see that it was the frozen carcass of an enormous animal, the entire flank of which, and one of its tusks, had been disengaged from the ice. In consequence of the ice melting earlier in the year 1803, the fifth year of its discovery, the enormous carcass became clearly disengaged, and fell down from the ice -crag upon a sand-bank forming part of the coast of the Arctic Ocean. Its flesh was by no means entirely decayed. The Tungots took large quantities of it to feed their dogs, and the bears came and feasted on the remainder; yet the skeleton remained quite entire, except that one of the fore-legs was gone. The entire spine, the pelvis, one shoulder-blade, and three legs, were held together by their ligaments, and by some remains of the skin; and the other shoulder-blade was found at a short distance. The KATTJRA.L HIST011T. 151 head remained covered by a dried sldn, and the pupil of the eye was distinguishable. The brain also remained within the skull, but was much shrunken and dried up. One of the ears was in excellent pre- servation, still retaining a tuft of strong bristly hair. The skin was extremely thick and heavy, and as much of it remained as required the exertions of ten men to carry it away ; while more than thirty pounds of its hair and bristles were afterwards collected from the wet sand-bank. These bristles were of great importance in this dis- covery. They were of three kinds: one stiff and black, of more than a foot in length ; another, thinner bristles, or coarse, flexible hair, of a reddish brown colour; and the third was a reddish brown wool, which grew among the roots of the long hair. These afforded an undeniable proof that this animal belonged to a race of elephants inhabiting a cold region, which were by no means adapted for living in the torrid zone. It is also evident, that this enormous animal must have been frozen up at the moment of its death. The fossil remains of elephants have not only been 's PEATEE. 191 By temptation- comes self-denial. Our blessed Lord calls upon those who love him to take up his cross, and to deny themselves. Who, then, would be without temptation, when it affords such an opportunity of devoting ourselves to Christ, and of showing that we love him solely and supremely, and will give up every- thing for his sake ? But what are the things that tempt us? Most foolish, vain, worldly, wicked things wealth, pride, power, pleasure yet they cling to us firmly ; hence we are told by our blessed Lord to pray for deliver- ance from them, that we may not trust in our own strength. When we say, therefore, " lead us not into tempta- tion," we pray that God will keep us from falling into the pomps and vanities of this wicked world, and from being overcome by sin ; that he will be with us in temptation and in trial, and bring forth good out of apparent evil, and us out of temptation, as gold is brought purified out of the fire after it has been tried. Jesus Christ, our great example, before he entered on his ministry, endured temptation he was tempted to tempt God he was tempted also to renounce him ; but he resisted the tempter, and angels came and ministered unto him. And so, when by his might, we resist the temptations that beset us, will holy and pleasant thoughts, like ministering angels, come to us to comfort and to bless us. Let us pray, therefore, that our heavenly Father will, for the sake of His dear Son, enable us to walk in his steps, and to resist temptation ; that our evil inclinations may be made the means by which we may 192 THE HOLTDAT BOOK. exercise our spiritual powers, and obtain victory through the might of Him who loved us, that Hia may be the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen. EVENING- PBAYER IT is evening soft and quiet hour: the darkness gathers, the bustle of the day is gone, the turmoil and the struggle of business have passed away, and the earth seems to fade from our sight ; all things seem to sink to rest the bending flower will close its leaves, and the wearied brute sinks down to his repose. But shall I retire to my bed as insensible as the wearied brute ? No ; God has given me a soul, that I might think of Him, and search after Him, and find Him, and love Him, and praise Him, and pray to Him. "At even time there shall be light." Yes, when the darkness hovers, the night-star of my hope is near ; I know that God is present, that He inspires my heart, that He listens to my prayers ; and, therefore, I rejoice in the privilege to pray. Another day is gone gone, never to return ; my life is one day shorter I am one day nearer to eternity. Has this, my last day, been spent so that it will give me an assurance that this eternity will be a happy one ? What report has this day carried to heaven? Such are the solemn questions suggested to me at the close of day. EVENING PRATER. 193 What have I done? What have I forgotten to do ? What have I \vilfully neglected ? Have my waking hours been passed for the good of others, or for my own gratification ? Have I consulted the glory ol God, or the false glory of the world ? Have I made use of those means of grace which have been vouchsafed to me ? Have I endeavoured to spread the light of truth to others ? Have I encouraged the conviction that God has been ever present with me ? Has my going out and coming in been as if under his sight ? Should I not ask myself these things ? Can I look at the past day, and not find in it a thousand witnesses to God's goodness and mercy ? Is there no appeal to my gratitude ? How have I been sustained and comforted in the turmoils of busi- ness or labour ? How have I been fed, and pre- served, and kept from danger, sickness, and distress ? How have been continued to me my friends and com- mon pleasures ? God is, indeed, good to me ; and, surely a sacrifice of thanksgiving is good and meet at the close of day. I am now about to sink to repose to fall into sleep which, if not so common to me, would be con- sidered as an awful and solemn mystery, for it is a type of death. All our powers of body are laid pros- trate ; the will is suspended ; reason, man's high gift, is lost to us, and all our mental faculties con- fused, or improperly exercised ; we see not, we know not, feel not, hear not ; we are powerless, and all but lifeless. Ought we not to pray, then, that our Almighty * o 194 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Father will still be with us, to guard us, and keep us from the terrors of the night ? our bed may prove our death-bed we may never again rise to the life of day. If this be His will, while we submit calmly, we should pray that He will awaken us to an immortal life, through the sacrifice of His Son, and restore to a higher perfection all our thoughts and powers in a joyful eternity. Let us offer up praises and thanksgiving, therefore, for the blessings of the past day, nor ever forget, ere we sink to our repose, to draw near our God in prayer; that our constant dependence may be on Him, whether asleep or awake ; that, whether living or dying, we may be the Lord's. 105 EVENING HYMN. SOFTLY, when evening shades come on, From life's wild tumults let us flee, And render, Lord, before thy throne, Our bruised spirits unto thoe. When the bright sun hath passed away Unto his dim and clouded rest, Oh ! deign to send thy own bright rny, To light and warm the sinking breast. When the gloom thickens, still be near, To cheer the bosom, and to dry, With beams of love, the bitter tear That falls in silent agony. When on the pillow we sink down, And thought on thought is ebbing fast, Let one thought, though the rest be flown, Eemain still steadfast to the last A thought of Thee ; and let us pause, E'en with that sacred thought in prayer ; Till sleep, made thus all tranquil, draws The curtain o'er each worldly care. And so in death, when all shall fade, From sense, and mind, and memory, Beam on us through the dreadful shade, And let us fall to sleep in Thcc. o2 196 NATUBAL HISTOEY THE EAGLE. (AQUILA.) TUB eagle has been celebrated, both in poetry and fable, from the earliest times. By the Greeks it was called the " bird of Jove," and was elevated to the government of the sky, being considered the king of birds. It was the crest, or symbol, of the Roman armies ; and beneath its wings the armies of France, under Napoleon Bonaparte, pursued a series of con- quests, till humbled and subdued by the British lion. There are many kinds of eagles, or birds of the NATUEAL HISTOBT. 197 eagle kind. There are eagles, such as the golden eagle, which live on the high rocks and mountain peaks ; vulture eagles, which are more in the vicinity of forests ; fishing eagles, such as the osprey, which live near the margins of seas, rivers, and lakes ; and hawk eagles, which are of smaller size and of feebler powers. Golden eagle. The golden eagle, or royal eagle, is the largest of the species, and measures, from the bill to the toes, about three feet and a half: across the wings, when expanded, about eight feet. The male is somewhat less than the female. The characters of this eagle are, a strong bill, black pointed claws the hind one being about five inches in length ; the eye large; and all the tendons and muscles of the limbs very strong. The particular form of the foot and toe, as also of the beak, vary according to the different habits of the birds. If the habit be to kill the prey chiefly, or only on the ground, the outer toe is not reversible, and the under sides of the claws are grooved, so as to form two cutting edges on each claw, which tear or lacerate, while the strong muscles are drawing the toes together with great force. "When the foot is of this structure, it is the sole instrument in killing the prey, and the beak is reserved for rending it after it has been killed. If, on the other hand, the habit is chiefly, or exclu- sively a fishing one, the outer toe is reversible, and the claws want the groove, and are rounded on the under sides. If, again, some of the dispositions of the hawk are mingled, the claws are sharper at thei* points, and the bill is more arched at the base. 19S THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Eagles live in pairs, but, generally, at some dis- tance from each other. They are supposed to live to a very great age, although this fact has not been accu- rately determined. They will endure hunger for a great length of time, and this power of abstinence is wisely given to them ; for the mountain eagles can obtain but little food during the winter months, and that little is very precarious. The eagle is very much attached to its young ; the female feeds them, with great industry, and defends them ferociously, until such time as they are able to take care of and provide for themselves, when she drives them away from her, that they may obtain their own living ; which propensity, however, must not be looked upon as cruelty in the bird, but as highly pro- per conduct, for every one should be made to get his own living so soon as he has strength and ability to earn it. The eagle, therefore, affords a lesson to those indulgent fathers and mothers who keep their children in ease and indolence, while they are themselves, perhaps, labouring with great assiduity, at a time when they should be enjoying the retirement ol advanced years. I hope my young friends will take a hint from this, and never let their parents work for them when they are old enough to work for themselves. The eyrie (that is, the dwelling-place, as well as the cradle for its brood) of the golden eagle is placed upon some ledge of the rock, and rarely on a tree, unless where the tangled roots spring from the cliiT, and offer a broad space, which can be covered with sticks. The eggs are seldom more than two. The way in which the eagle kills its prey is by a NATURAL niSTOUY. 109 pounce and a clutch, both of which are truly terrible. From an immense height in the air (1,000 or 2,000 feet) the bird is able to discern its prey : from this height she swoops downward, and pounces with her whole weight upon the victim, which she not only dashes to the earth, but, plunging her claw in its body up to the toe, she often breaks the spine or skull of the animal attacked, and death is almost instanta- neous. If the pounce be not fatal, the clutch instantly follows, in the giving of which, the whole weight of the bird, in the utmost excitement, with the head elevated, and the feathers of the head erect, and the wings shivering, so as to keep the pressure on the instruments of death, is upon the claws. In no case is the prey touched with the beak until all motion in it has ceased. The imperial eagle is not so compact in form, or so strong in proportion to its size as the golden eagle. It is abundant on the Alps, and on the mountains of Turkey and Greece, and in various parts of Asia ; and, from this circumstance, it is highly probable, that this, and not the golden eagle, is the " bird of Jove," as fabled by the ancients the eagle of painters and sculptors, all over Europe. They appear to partake a little of the vulture character, and help to clear away the carcasses of animals in the death of which they have little or no concern. Besides these kinds of eagles, there is the little, or spotted eagle, not more than one-third the size of the former. It is a native of the forests of the south- ern parts of Europe, and is found distributed over the greater part of Africa. Its prey is generally of a 2CO THE HOLIDAY BOOK. humble description, such as rabbits, reptiles, and the larger species of insects. The fan-tailed eagle is another kind, which is a native of New Holland. It is supposed to feed on the emu, and the young of the kangaroo. These are the principal kinds of eagles, properly so called, that inhabit the land, and for the most part feed upon warm-blooded animals only. FISHING EAGLES. The Ash-coloured, Eagle (A. Clnerea). This species is as large as the golden eagle, and is common to many places of all the shores of Britain ; hence it has various names. Sometimes it is called the white-tailed eagle, from the colour of its tail ; in some places the bog eagle; and in the lowlands of Scotland the erne. In summer, this bird haunts and hovers over the fresh-water pools and morasses, where water-fowl breed in great numbers, and is very destructive of them. It also attacks the smaller quadrupeds ; and, as it is said, even sheep and deer, especially in tho earlier part of the season, when they are sick and weak. This is the species of which so many marvels are told by the people of the north, about its carrying away children, and an endless number of other adven- tures, which are, doubtless, great exaggerations. The fishing of this eagle is not so generally fol- lowed, neither is it performed in so grand a style as that of a smaller species ; but still it does fish, and NATURAL HISTORY. 201 among the rugged lochs and bays that run into the land may be seen, at the approach of the winter, when the wind and sea rave, and dash with increased fury, wheeling and wailing on the wing, and ever and anon dipping down to catch some of the fish thrown up in the turbulence of the waters. The white-headed eagle (aquila leucocepJiqlus) is ail American species, agreeing in its general habits with the white-tailed eagle of Europe. The celebrated cataract of Niagara is a noted place of resort for the bald eagle, as well on account of the fish procured thence, as for the numerous carcasses of squirrels, deer, bears, and other animals, which, in their attempts to cross the river above the falls, have been dragged into the current, and precipitated down that tre- mendous gulf, where, among the rocks that bound the rapids below, they furnish a rich repast for the raven, the vulture, and the bald or white-headed eagle. In procuring his prey, this eagle displays, in a very singular manner, the energy of his character, which is fierce, daring, and tyrannical. Elevated in the high dead limb of some gigantic tree that commands a wide view of the neighbouring shore and ocean, he seems calmly to contemplate the various feathered tribes that pursue their busy avocations below. The snow- white gulls, slowly winnowing the air ; the trains of ducks, streaming over the surface of the deep ; silent and watchful cranes, intent and wading; clamorous crows ; and all the winged multitudes that subsist on the bounty of nature's vast storehouse : high over all these hovers one, whose action instantly arrests his v.'hole attention. By his wide curvature of wing, and 202 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. sudden suspension in the air, he knows him to be the fish-hawk, settling over some devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at the sight, and balancing himself, with half-opened wings, .on the branch, he awaits the result. Down, rapid as an arrow from heaven, descends the distant object of his attention the roar of its wings reaching the ear, as it disappears in the deep, making the surges foam around. At this moment the eager looks of the eagle are all ardour, and, levelling his neck for flight, he sees the fish-hawk once more emerge, struggling with his prey, and mounting in the air with screams of exultation. This is the signal for our hero, who, launching in the air, instantly gives chase, and soon gains on the fish-hawk. Each displays its utmost to mount above the other, displaying in these rencounters the most elegant and sublime aerial evolutions. The unencumbered eagle rapidly advances, and is just on the point of reaching his opponent, when, with a sudden scream, probably of despair, and honest execration, the latter drops his fish. The eagle poising himself for, a moment, as if to take a more certain aim, descends like a whirlwind, snatches it in his grasp before it reaches the water, and bears his ill-gotten booty silently away to the woods. The osprey (aquila lialiccta). This is the proper fishing-eagle of the European shores, and also the fishing-hawk of America. Its length is about two feet, and the extent of its wings about five feet and a half. The beak of this bird is very powerful; it is bent at the tip, and furnished with the rudiment of a tooth. The tarsi are very short and strong, but, NATTJEAL HISTOEY. 203 instead of being feathered, as in the true eagle, arc covered with reticulated scales, and thus bear some resemblance to the wading birds. Their claws are very large, but are without any ridges or grooves on their inner sides, and thus they are clutching claws, and not tearing ones. The thighs are feathered down to the articulations of the tarsi. The pervading colour of the plumage is a blackish brown ; the rest of the under part is a dull white, varying in various parts of the body. The osprey is seen in most of the countries in Eu- rope, from Sweden to Greece, and is very common in Siberia ; it is found also in Egypt and Barbary. In America, the fish-hawk is migratory, arriving on the coast of New York and New Jersey about the latter end of September. They no sooner arrive, but they wage war on the bald eagles, as on a horde of robbers and banditti, sometimes succeeding by force of num- bers and perseverance in driving them from their hauuts, but seldom or never attacking them in single combat. The flight of the fish-hawk, and his manoeuvres, when in search of fish, are particularly interesting. On leaving his nest he usually flies direct, till he conies to the sea ; then sails round in easy curving lines, turning sometimes in the air, as on a pivot, appa- rently without the least exertion ; rarely moving his wings; his legs extended in a straight line behind; and his remarkable length and curvature, or bend of wing, distinguishing him from all other hawks. The height to which he thus elegantly glides, varies from 100 to 200 feet, sometimes much higher, 204 TilE HOLIDAY BOOK. all the while calmly reconnoitring the face of the deep below. Suddenly he is seen to check his course, as if struck by a particular object, which he seems to survey for a few minutes with so much steadi- ness that he appears fixed in the air, flapping his wings. This object, however, he abandons, or, rather, the fish he had in his eye has disappeared, and he is again seen sailing as before. Now his attention is again arrested, and he descends with great rapidity ; but, ere he reaches the surface, shoots off at another course, as if ashamed that another victim had escaped -him. He now sails at a short height above the sur- face, and by a zig-zag descent, and without seeming to dip his feet in the water, seizes a fish, which, after carrying a short distance, he probably drops, or yields up to the bald eagle, and again ascends, by easy spiral circles, to the higher regions of the air, in which he glides about in all the ease and majesty of his species. At once, from this sublime and aerial height, he de- scends like a perpendicular torrent, plunging into the sea with a loud rushing sound, and with the certainty of a rifle. In a few moments he emerges, bearing in his claws his struggling prey, which he always carries head foremost, and having risen a few feet above the sur- face, shakes himself, as a water-spaniel would do, and di- rects his heavy and laborious course direct for the land. If the wind blow hard, and his nest lie in the quarter from whence it comes, it is amusing to observe with what judgment and exertion he beats to windward ; not in a direct line (that is, in the wind's eye), but making several successive tacks to gain his purpose. This will appear the more striking, when we consider NATURAL IIISTCmT. 205 the size of the fish he bears along, which often weighs from six to ten pounds. It is a singular fact, that the hawk never descends to pick up a fish which he hap- pens to drop, either on the land or on the water. Sometimes the hawk mistakes his mark, or overrates- his strength, by striking fish too large and powerful for him to manage, by which he is suddenly dragged under ; and though he sometimes succeeds in extri- cating himself, after being taken three or four times- down, yet oftener both parties perish. There are several other species of eagles. The Tiarpy eagle (liarpyia destructor], which is also a fishing eagle, and is a very large bird. A pair of these may be seen at the Zoological Gardens, Eegent's Park. There is also the Caracara eagle, a very common bird of prey in Brazil ; and the Chilian sea eagle, found in the South American continent, which is more of a scavenger than a fishing bird, haunting the shores for the purpose of clearing them of the refuse of animal matter, much in the same way as the vultures do upon land. The white African eagle is about a third smaller than the golden eagle, and of a more slender shape. It lives upon birds of various kinds. 20G HYMN OF BEAUTY. JHERE is beauty for ever, bewitchingly fair, In earth or in ocean, in sunlight, and air, That glows through all seasons, exists through all time, And multiplies joy in each far-severed clime. A beauty, a glory, a grandeur, a charm, That gives the eye brightness, and makes the heart warm ; That whispers the soul of a B eing Divine, That speaks, Lord, of thee ; it is thine, it is thine. The burst of the spring, in its blooming and budding, Like stars through the emerald meadow lands studding ; The rush of bright wings on the glimmering dawn, And the sparkle of flies on the sunlight of morn ; The diamonds of dew on the full blooming trees, The sweet song of birds, and the soft hum of bees ; And all that can beautify, all that can shine Oh ! Lord of our life ! they are thine, they are thine. Above, as the sapphire hangs gorgeous and bright, O'erspangled with worlds in the grandeur of night, Shining on, shining on, in an undying splendour, Yet still looking down on us tearful and tender, To woo our souls heavenward, and silently kiss Them unto their spheres, from the darkness of this. Oh! where is this beauty ? from whom doth it shine ? Dear Father of love, it is thine, it ia thine. The MIND, that bright temple of undying things, That gushes for ever with unfailing springs, That holds the dear germ of this beauty entire, .And hovers and glows, like the pure altar's fire, Sent down from the heavens to enlighten and movo The host of its thoughts to devotion and love Oh ! whose is this temple, so bright and divine ? Dear God of our hope ; it is thiue, it is thine. 207 HISTORY OF MACEDOK THE LIFE OF PHILIP, KING OF MACEDOF. lyHE affairs of Persia are mixed up very much with those of Greece and Mace- don. Persia eventually fell into the hands of Philip, King of Macedon, and of his son, Alexander the Great, during the time of Artaxerxes, Ochus, Arses, and Darius Codomanus. We will, be- fore we proceed to the history of the Orecian states, give an outline of the history of these two famous monarchs. The space of time in which the reigns of these monarchs are included, contains thirty-six years ; the reign of the former including twenty-four, and that of the latter twelve years, from the years of the world 3644 to 3680. The kingdom of Macedon is numbered by some historians among the states of Greece, but others consider it a separate country. Although it was founded above 500 years before this period, it had never been very powerful till Philip mounted the throne. Philip was the fourth son of Amyntas, King of Macedonia, and ascended the throne as the guardian and protector of the youthful years of his nephew. He soon, however, made himself absolute, and took possession of the kingdom in his own right. He secured this ill-gotten power by the success of his arms against the Illyrians, Pseonians, and Athenians. 208 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. The Athenians, aroused by the eloquence of De- mosthenes, sent seventeen vessels, and 2000 men to the assistance of Olynthus, which Philip had besieged, but the money of Philip prevailed over all their efforts. The greater part of the citizens suffered themselves to be bribed by the Macedonian gold, and Olynthus was surrendered to the enemy, and instantly reduced to ruins. In his attempts to make himself master of Eubcea, Philip was successful, and Phocion, who despised his gold, as well as his meanness, obliged him to evacuate an island where the inhabitants could neither be bribed nor threatened. Philip next turned his arms against the Scythians, who were not, however, to be subdued ; he then made Greece a scene of plunder and rapine. Philip advanced into Boeotia, and a general engage- ment was fought at Chseronea. The fight was long and bloody, but Philip at last gained the victory ; then getting intoxicated after his triumph, with the inhu- manity of a brute he insulted the bodies of the slain, aud exulted over the calamities of the prisoners of war. At the battle of Cha?ronea, the independence of Greece was extinguished, and Philip, unable to find new enemies in Europe, formed new enterprises, and meditated new conquests ; he was nominated general of the Greeks against the Persians, and prepared for the conquest of a country which had been so long the scene of contention. But this rapacious conqueror was stopped in the midst of his career, being stabbed by Pausanias, as he MACEDOff. 209 entered the theatre, at the celebration of the nuptials of his daughter Cleopatra. He was murdered in the forty-seventh year of his age, and the twenty-fourth of his reign, about 336 years before the Christian era. The Athenians, greatly rejoiced at the news of Philip's death, publicly voted that a golden crown should be given to Pausanias, as a reward for having murdered him. All the other states also immediately revolted from the power of Macedon. THE LIFE OF ALEXANDEB THE GREAT. Alexander, the son of Philip, succeeded at the age of twenty to the throne of Macedon, and after a few successful battles with the revolted, obtained the com- mand of Greece. On the night of his birth, the great temple of Diana, at Ephesus, one of the most wonderful edifices ever erected by human skill, was burnt to the ground by Eratostratus, who madly hoped to perpetuate his memory by the incendiary deed. The first warlike expedition of Alexander was against the barbarians to the north of his kingdom. During his engagements here a powerful confederacy was formed against him by the Grecian states ; and the Thebans, upon a false report of his death, killed all the Macedonians within the reach of their fury. Alexander speedily came against their city, took it, and utterly destroyed it : 6000 of the inhabitants were slain, and 30,000 were sold for slaves. Has dreadful example of severity spread the terror , Edwin," and praised him ; but Eushton said, " He had no business to go out of his ranks, to spoil the sport, and should not play any longer." He also called the boys to come away, and not to stop witli a drowned rat. Most of the boys obeyed this mandate, except the little boy who helped Edwin up when he was pushed MY GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. 229 backwards by Bushton. This little fellow, whose name was Alfred, was very fond of Edwin, and would uot leave him. " Take off your clothes," said he, " and we will dry them in the sun ; and then we will go into Thorney Dell, and look for lords and ladies" that is, the cuckoo-point. So the regiment of soldiers marched off like heroes, as they were not, and left Edwin and Alfred to keep each other company, and amuse themselves as they could. TAMING BIRDS. " I do not like their running away from us so," said Edwin : " it was not kind was it ?" " Never mind," said Alfred, " your clothes will soon be dry, and we shall find something to amuse us. I know a pretty place, where I made a bower last year ; and do you know that I used to go and sit in it all alone by myself, and read. At last I got so used to it, that I went almost every day ; and what do you think?" " I do not know. "What is it ? " " Why, there was a little bird that used to keep me company he had got a nest in a bush close by. It was a blackbird, and he used to hop, hop, hop, first from one twig to another, till he got quite close to me ; so I always used to save him a piece of my dinner, and he would come and be fed." " What ! did he use to eat out of your hand ?" " No : I never made him tame enough for that ; 230 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. but one day, when I went without anything to give him, he seemed quite disappointed, and hopped and chirped about as if he would say, you have forgotten me. And when I went homewards, after I had got all the way, as far as Ditchery Mead you know where that is there was my little blackbird flying from tree to tree after me." " What did you do ? " " Oh ! I ran home as fast as I could, and got a piece of bread, but when I went back to my bower he was gone ; but I laid down the bread in the hedge, where I knew he would come, and the next day the bread was gone. Shall we go and see if we can see him this year?" " Yes, oh ! yes, I should like that. Make haste and dry, Mr. Jacket," said the boy. " Here are your stockings they are quite dry put them on." It being a very warm day, little Edwin's clothes were soon dry, so he put them on, and both the boys started for the place, which he called " Rugged Moss Bower." The morning still shone as brightly as ever, and the lark sang above their heads, as they passed along so merrily, that it made them more than joyful. Away they trudged ; sometimes one had his arm over the other's shoulder, and at other times they ran and skipped along separately : they were much happier than they would have been playing soldiers. After they had passed over several fields, they came to one of those green lanes, so common in country places ; it was overhung by tall trees, which seemed to kiss each other in their topmost branches, while MY GRANDFATHER'S STOEIES. 231 their gnarled roots twined through the bank on either side in the rudest contortions. "Here are some lords and ladies," * said Alfred; " and look at the violets and primroses ! Shall we gather them now, or stop till we come back ?" " Oh ! we had better wait till we are going home, because then they will be fresh, you know. But look look at that squirrel running up the tree look at it there it goes. Now, I should like to have a squirrel : I would keep him in a cage, and feed him with nuts, and give him milk to drink." " Ay, but he would not like that so well as jumping about among the trees," said Alfred, " and being quite at liberty. I once kept a bird for a few days, but let it go again ; it seemed to be so very unhappy, and yet I gave it everything I could think of." Just as Edwin spoke this, they met two boys coming down the lane with a basket ; they were wild- looking fellows, and had several short thick sticks under their arms, the use of which one of the little travellers was unable to divine. " Mind, Mike," said one of these to the other, "you will let him out if you do not keep the lid covered. Hold fast, while I put this twig round it. There, that will do. Now, come along." " I wonder what they have got there ?" said Edwin. " Oh, I know !" said Alfred : " it is a squirrel, -and those thick sticks are what they knocked him down with. Is not that a squirrel in the basket ?" inquired he of the two boys. * Arun. 232 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. " Yes, it is. Do you want to buy one ? " said Mike. " Here, you can see it through this hole, if you put your eye down to the basket." Edwin looked and Alfred looked, and, sure enough, it was a beautiful little squirrel ; but it seemed very much frightened, and was squatted down at the bottom of the basket. "I will buy it," said Edwin: "I have got six- pence." " Sixpence will not do," said the boy. " "Well I have got another, and will go halves," said Alfred. So after a little more haggling (for the two boys wanted more), the little squirrel was handed over to them, and lodged securely in Edwin's hat, who placed his handkerchief over the top of it. " Now we have got him, come along ; come along, Alfred," said Edwin. " Yes : let us make haste into the wood, and then we can let him go." "Let him go!" said Edwin, quite confounded; " what, after we have bought and paid for him ?" " That is just what I bought him for. Do you think I should like to keep a squirrel, just for the sake of looking at him, and feeding him r" " Well, you are a strange fellow ! " " "Why did you run into the water after the lamb this morning?" " Oh, that was quite a different thing !" "Not so very different: you wished to save the poor lamb from the dog, and I wished to save the squirrel from those bad lads, who wanted to put it in a prison." "A prison!" MY GBANDFATHEIl's STOBIE8. 233 " A cage is a prison. Ay, I see how it is. You have not got such a good mother as I have. You are, as my mother once said, good from impulse, and not from principle." " I do not understand you at all," said Edwin, " you talk so funny. Impulse and principle ! I do not understand it at all." " Then I must tell you just what my mother told me. She said, ' Impulse is, when you do a thing without thinking ; and principle is, when you do a thing, because you think it is right.' There, can you understand that P" " Yes, I think I do a little." " Very well. Now look here. I think it is wrong to hurt anything. I like to do as I would be done by ; that makes me happy." " Well, but that is quite different in squirrels." " Not in the least. If I were a squirrel, I should like to have the trees to live in, and to frisk about among the nuts, and leap from bough to bough, and lay up nuts for the winter, and all that ; but I should not like to be put in a cage, and suffered to do nothing all my life but to jump backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, up and down, to and fro. Would you?" " Well, I do not think I should much. But " " It is no use of butting ; we must let the squirrel go as soon as we get into the woods." " Why, then, we have just paid sixpence each for nothing." " Have we, though ? Why, if you were to live to be an old man, and were to think of the time that you 234 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. let this squirrel go, you would be glad you did so. That is a cheap sixpenny worth, is it not ?" "An old man! Well, but I do not think there can be much harm in keeping a squirrel, for I should be very fond of him, and feed him well; he should have a nice warm bed to lie upon, and a little hole to creep into at night. Oh, I would be so kind to him you cannot think how kind I would be." " Ay, that is just what I said to my mother about the lark that I wanted to keep. I dare say you would be very kind ; but do not you see that, with all your kindness, you would make a prisoner of the squirrel, only because you would like to say this is my squirrel, and like to look at him now and then. You would have no real love for the squirrel it would only be that you loved yourself, and liked to please yourself; so, you see, your kindness ought to go for nothing. I remember this is just what my mother said to me about the lark." " Well, I think I do begin to see what you say to be right ; so corae along, let us make haste to the woods, and then we will let the squirrel go." After this the little fellows trudged on at a more rapid pace, and very soon entered the wood. When they got to a convenient place that is, among the nut-trees they began to think of the squirrel. " Do you know," said Alfred, " I think it was somewhere here that the poor little fellow was knocked down ; for you see here are a great many pieces of dried branches tipped off, and you see the bark of the trees is chipped in several places. Shall we let him out ?" " Oh ! yes," said Edwin, and began to untie the MY GBANDFATHEB'S STOEIES. 235 handkerchief; but, before he could do this, the squirrel put his little head between the folds of it. and gave Edwin such a nip on the fore finger as made him let go the hat, and roar with pain, while the blood gushed freely. " There he goes ! there he goes ! " said Alfred. " My goodness, how he does scamper ! Look at him from tree to tree. Now I have lost him ; there he is again ; now, on the ash-tree. Ah ! he seems to laugh at us now." Edwin heard nothing of this, but kept crying bit- terly, for his finger was nearly bitten in two. " De- pend upon it," said he, "I will never buy another squirrel to let loose. If I had known he would have bit me so, those fellows might have kept him ; I would not have bought him, to set him loose, I know." "You did not," said Alfred; "you bought him, to make a prisoner of him. Do you not recollect ? Be- sides, do you suppose that in everything you do that is right, you will be benefited by it ; or that doing right will not sometimes produce evil consequences ? "Why, my mother tells me, that by doing right, I may, perhaps, suffer a great deal during my life." " Well, then, your mother is very different to mine, for she told me the other day, that if I was a good boy nothing would ever hurt me ; that I should always prosper, and be a gentleman, and, perhaps, ride in my carriage ; she said I might be lord mayor of the city of London, for what she knew." " Then you will do what is right, because you hope to gain something by it." " And what do you do right for ? " said Edwin. 236 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. "Because I love God, and wish to do what I think will please him. But I do not want to preach you a sermon ; but if you will come to my mother, she will tell you all about it." So saying, the little fellow, who had all along been preaching a sermon without knowing it, led the way towards the bower. THE SHAM FIGHT. You will wonder what became of the soldiers the army of little heroes, with their drums, trumpets, flags, and guns. I will tell you. t They marched and counter-marched for some time. After leaving the meadow in which they had mus- tered their forces, they marched, first, unto a heath which lay close by. " JS"ow, then," said Eushton, as they entered upon this more extended spot, "now then, my boys, we shall have elbow-room this is the place for a battle. We will have a sham fight." I dare say you know what a heath is ; this was of considerable extent ; in one direction it reached as far as the eye could stretch; and in another, it was skirted by a thick and bristling wood, which seemed to frown on it, and looked quite terrible. The whole of the heath, in every direction, was covered with furze, or whin short, stumpy bushes, with prickles for leaves, showing a yellow blossom. In several of the hollows and moister places, patches of fern might be distinguished. The boys marched between the furze-bushes in good order, and seemed quite delighted with the wide and open space around them ; but, whether they were tired of marching, or eager for something else, I do MT GBANDFATHEB'S STOEIES. 237 not know, but Eushton found it very difficult to keep his troops together, and bawled himself hoarse in the endeavour to do so. There were a great number of rabbit-holes on the heath, which seemed to excite the attention of the regiment very much ; and several of the boys left their ranks to examine these burrows, and wished more for a rabbit-hunt than soldier playing. Eushton had, however, with considerable difficulty, got his little army together, and was haranguing them in the following manner : " Hold them heads up ; I say, Dashwood, why do not you stand still ? Now then, you with the bean-stick, stand forward march ; you, with the swords, to the right inarch. Now, who told you to march ? you have got a regular gun, you shall not play at all," said he ; " stand out ; if you do not do as I tell you, you shall not. Now, I told you so before." The little tyrant general had, as he supposed, at last succeeded in making his band obey him, and had got them in something like a straight line, when Dashwood, who was thinking more of the rabbits than anything else, said to the boy who stood next him, whose name was Wilmot, " I say, Wilmot, do you see that white thing bobbing among the bushes ? Look." " It is a rabbit ! There it is there it goes halloo! halloo!" Away ran the whole of the corps guns, bean- sticks, swords, drums, shields, and battle-axes in one wild rush, as if, indeed, they had made an onset to the enemy. Away scampered the rabbit away dashed the boys. 238 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Bunny, however, soon showed that her agility was too much for even an army of heroes, she was lost among the bushes in a few seconds. Eushton was left alone in his fury ; his whole army had deserted him ; he found all his boasted power gone in a moment ; and, after vainly calling to hio little men, and stamping and roaring, to no purpose, at last threw himself on the ground, in very rage. After some fruitless attempts to scare the rabbit from its retreat, the boys gave over the search, and seemed disposed to do anything anybody might pro- pose. Eushton, seeing their rabbit fury over, went up to them, and said, with a significant nod of the head, " Ay, Mr. Dashwood, I will be even with you some day ; you shall see if I do not." " "Will you ?" said Dashwood ; " I should think you knew better." "Do I?" said the other: "I will let you know whether I do or not, if you say much." " Much," then said Dashwood. " If you have a mind for anything, you had better try it. Who are you, I should like to know ? you have been having it all your own way since you came out. "What business had you to push young Edwin what-is-bis- name, down, and send him off home crying ? And I will tell something about you, that I know what you did in Bugsby's Wood. You are not going to do as you like with me." " That is right, Tom," said young Smith ; " if I were you, I would not stand any of his nonsense." " Nor more would I," said another ; " Nor I, neither," said a third ; " Nor I, neither," said a fourth. MY GEANDFATHER'S STOBIES. 239 Eushton by this time was boiling with rage, and, without saying another word, made a spring at Dash- wood, and struck him a blow on the eye : at the same time that he gave him a push backwards, and tumbled him into one of the furze-bushes. Dashwood roared out with the extreme pain he endured, not so much from the blow in the eye, as from the prickles of the bush into which he was thrown ; he was pricked behind and before, on right side and left side ; and, in struggling to get out had pricked both hands and face, and was bleeding in several places. "Well done, Eushton," said another of the boys, named Spanks, " I am glad you have given it to him, it served him right. I played marbles with him the other day, and when he had won above forty he would not play any more, but sneaked off, as a coward as he is." Dashwood had by this time recovered his feet, and saying, " I will coward you, Mr. Spanks, before long," doffed his coat, while Eushton did the same, and both the combatants set-to, to thump and kick, and tear each other, as much as possible. After nearly a quarter of an hour's fighting, neither seemed to obtain much advantage over the other. Eushton had been knocked down a great number of times, and Dashwood had got two black eyes and a bloody nose ; his lip, too, was swollen, so as to make his mouth appear twice its usual size, and his face was covered with scratches and bruises. Bushton waa in an equally bad condition his eyes 240 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. were nearly closed up with some severe blows ; one of his eyebrows had been cut off by the knuckle of his antagonist, and hung down over his eye ; while two of his teeth had either been knocked down his throat, or unto the ground, for they were missing. In this deplorable state the simple lads continued to fight, but to no purpose, so far as victory went, for neither would give in. The soldier-band, at last, grew tired of looking at the sport, and seeing there was not likely to be a termination to it, proposed that they should fight it out another day. To this the combatants reluc- tantly assented ; and, with their passions against each other unsubdued, put on their clothes, and pre- pared to separate some of the boys being Dashwood's side, and some taking the part of Rushton. Dashwood's party, soon after, went off in the same direction in which they had come to the spot ; while Hushton, and his backers proposed to go home by Shuckle Wood. What with the soldiering and fighting, the day had passed away without being observed; the sun was now descending westward ; and, as the days are not very long on the first of May, gave token that it would not be a great while before it would be night-fall, and they had upwards of four miles to go before they reached the town in which they all resided. They quickened their pace, therefore ; the flags were taken from the sticks, the plumes from the helmets ; shields were carried under the arm, instead of on it; and the whole party looked fagged, and weary, and MY GRANDFATHEE'S STOEIES. 241 discontented witli themselves, each other, their day's sport, and even the fight, now it was over. " "Well, I am glad you gave it to him," said Spanks, addressing Rushton ; " but, if you had hit him where I told you, you would soon have done him ; or, if you had given him a good poke, you know where that is the place to settle them." "I should think it was," said one of the party, named Hague ; " for, do you know that one of the boys at old Maribuss' school got killed in that way." " And the boy that gave him the poke was sent to prison," said another of the party. "Ay, but he was not hung," said Rushton ; "be- sides, when people fight, you have a right to hit where you like. I wish I could have given him a good blow in that place see if I would not have done it. It would have been fair enough." " Tou should' have tumbled on him when he was down," said Spanks ; " that is a good way to knock them up. Do not you remember that time, when you twisted him over with your leg that was the time for it it is all fair. I have seen the men-fighters do it. My father takes in a newspaper, which tells you all about it. I think it is a cross-buttock some- thing of that sort." "Oh! well," said Eushton, "what is the use of your telling me now ? I do not care he has got as much as will do him good, at any rate. I do not care about it." " But I will bring you the newspaper that has it all in," said Spanks, " There is a picture in it it is called the mill ; then, there is another picture, called * B 24i2 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. a case in chancery, Ay, if you had got him that way, that would have been the thing : you should h:ive iwisted your arm round his neck, and then pum- melled his face as hard as ever you could." "What is the use?" said Rushton ; "I wish you would hold your tongue, for I feel quite sick." " Why, you look as if you could not help it. What is the matter ? Do not be down-hearted ; you will be sure to beat him next time," said Spanks. The truth was, that Bushton had received a severe inward bruise; and now, that his excitement was abated, he began to feel great pain, and wished him- self at home. He knew, however, that another beating awaited him there, and this was by no means a comfortable reflection. The party had now reached the skirts of Shuckle Wood, and the sun was just setting behind it, through which it shone like a great globe of red fire. The children, depressed as they were, could not help noticing the splendid sight. " On my word," said Horton, " the sun makes the trees look as if they were on fire. I wonder if the sun is all fire. What a great fire it must be !" " Why, if it was fire, it would burn the wood," said Spanks ; " besides, I saw the sun set in the sea once, and, if it had been fire, it would have made it hiss, I should think." " Do you recollect the large Bible we have got in our school, with the pictures in?" said Horton. " Well, there is a picture in it of Moses and the burning bush, and it puts me in mind of it. It looked just like that." MY GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. 213 "I recollect it," said another little fellow, "Wilmot, who had till now been a passive spectator and silent hearer ; " and there is another picture of Moses kill- ing the Egyptian. Two of them had a fight, the same as Eushton and Dashwood had, and Moses came and killed one of them, and God was very angry with him for it. And it says, Moses looked this way and that way, so as no one should see him ; and yet God saw him and was very angry." "There do not make yourself silly," said Spanks; " we want none of that, Mr. Methodist Parson." " But I shall, if I like ; I was not talking to you, Spanks," said "VVilmot ; " and my master told me, he looked this way, and that way, hut never looked up, or else he would not have killed the Egyptian. I want to know what he meant by not looking up." By this time the boys had penetrated the wood to a considerable distance, at the same time it was grow- ing dark. Eushton was by no means improved by the quick walking, and lagged in pace very much. At last, when they got near the centre of the wood, he felt himself so ill, he said, he must sit down to rest awhile on the stump of a tree. " I cannot go any farther," said he, " I have such a pain in my side stop a bit." So the boys all made a halt. " I say," said Spanks, "I can tell you it is getting pitch dark it is of no use stopping here. Come, get up," said he, to Eushton; "let us go." The other boys betrayed also some impatience, and not a little fear. " I cannot go yet," said Eushton, who groaned again with excessive pain : " stop a little longer." 244 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. " Oh, you must come on. I will not stop, if you do not." " You will not leave me will you, Spanks ? " said Rushton. " What is the good of stopping here ? Besides, it is all your fault : if you had not begun the fight, there would not have been one would there ? Tou can walk if you like, I know." " You can tell a falsehood," said Rushton ; " and, if I had not got this pain, I would let you know it." " "Well, since you are so saucy, you may just stop by yourself, and those that like may stop with you ; for my part, I shall get home as soon as I can. I am not going to stop in a wood where the ghost was seen last winter." "A ghost!" said all the other boys, their hair standing on end, almost sufficient to knock their hats off. "Yes," said he, "with large eyes as big as tea- saucers, a long tail, a red nose, and a white sheet, and his eyes flaming fire, and long claws, to tear you to pieces with. Old Harrup saw it first, and then three old women, and lots of people." " Then I shall not stop, if you do not come along," said Wilmot ; " I had nothing at all to do with the fight, and did not like to see it." " Come along, Wilmot," said Spanks ; " do not let us stop here : those who are going, now is their time ;" and the unfeeling boy began to move in the direction of home. "Do stop! pray stop!" said Eushton, "I shall be better presently only a few minutes." And here MY GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. 245 the bruised boy endeavoured to walk, but shrieked out in great agony as soon as he attempted to move. "Ay, it is all put on," said Spanks; "if he was very bad, he could not make that noise. So come along. If we leave him, he will soon follow us. Come along ! come along !" Thus the brave soldier-band withdrew from the ill- fated lad, and left him alone in the wood. By this time it was nearly dark, and every moment grew darker and darker, for the clouds had arisen, and not a star was to be seen ; while the deep gloom of the woods, and the rushing of the rising wind upon the tops of the high trees, made it altogether a very fearful time. Rushtou was unable to move ; vainly he cried, "Stop! stop! pray stop! Spanks! Wilmot!" calling also on every other boy by name. They were, however, beyond the reach of hearing ; and the poor lad, at last, gave over, through very exhaustion, and burst into tears and wept loudly. Then did he feel the power of unkindness, and he could scarcely believe that those who had " done as he liked," in almost every case, should leave him in the moment of need. It stung him to the heart. "It serves me right," said he; and yet he vowed vengeance against them. Then he felt the terror of the night upon him, and shrieked for assistance ; but all to no purpose he was alone it was dark. He thought of the ghost got up, and tried to make his way through the bushes ; but it was of no use, and he sank, overpowered with his conflicting passions, on the earth. 240 THE HOLIDAY BOOS. THE DESEBTER. Spanks, Wilmot, and their companions, made as quickly out of the wood as their legs would carry them, and scarcely cast a thought on their fellow playmate, excepting that Spanks said once or twice, " Oh, he will soon be home, when he finds we will not come back;" trying, of course to satisfy his con- science, by making himself believe that Eushton could have walked home with them, had he been so inclined. During the time that these occurrences had taken place with the soldier-band, Alfred and Edwin had been very differently occupied ; they had wandered on and on, chatting as they went, towards the before- mentioned bower. It was in a dingle at the other extremity of the wood, in the middle of which Eushton had been deserted. As they approached the spot, Alfred, at the very top of his voice, called out, " There it is ! there it is ! that is the spot ! just beyond that ash -tree." " "Where ?" said Edwin ; " I cannot see it." " Why, by the ash-tree. Do not you know an ash- tree ? You see it is very different to an oak. All its branches have a graceful bend downwards, while the oak throws his about in the open air, as if he was afraid of nothing, and stretches himself forth in the spirit of freedom." " The what ! the spirit of freedom ! I do not know what you mean," said Edwin ; " I wish you would not talk so funny." " What do you mean by funny ? I suppose you MY GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. 217 mean, that I talk in a manner you are not used to. The last time I was out with my mamma, she told me this. There ! there is an oak ; and here is an ash ; you see how different they are. One seems to be full of hows and graces, like a fine young gentleman in a hall-room ; and the other stands up like a man, and seems to say, I am not afraid of anything." " Well, so it does, when I think of it ; but what tree is that, a little further on, with the stick part of it white?" " The stick part of it ! you should call it the trunk. It has a whitish bark. The tree is called the Lady Birch, or Lady of the "Woods. You see it is just like a young lady ; that is, it is slender, and tall, and graceful, and delicate, and all that." " Well, I never thought of all this before I never took any notice of trees ; I thought they were all very much alike." " So did I, till my mother taught me. Why, there is as much difference in trees as there is in everything else. Some are tall and straight, some are thick and stumpy ; some Jbave roundish leaves, some long ones, some have blossoms, some have not ; some grow above a hundred feet high, and others run on the ground ; some give fruit, and others are poison. I could tell you a great deal about trees, but I cannot just now." The boys had now reached the spot where the bower had been the previous year, and Alfred was sur- prised to find it completely destroyed ; all the branches that he had hung over with so much care, had been rudely cut and hacked away, while the tall ferns and rank grass completely choked the spot. 248 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. " "What, is this the beautiful spot you told me of ?" said Edwin. " "Well, if I had known it, I never would have come all this way just to see a lot of bramble bushes." " Hush, hush," said Alfred ; " I hear him, that is his chirp I know it he is afraid of you; here, creep under this bush, and look at me." Edwin did as he was told, and Alfred began to cherup : presently a little bird, on the topmost branch of a tree, answered him, and hopping from branch to branch, it at last rested on one of the lowest, close to the ground. " Sweet, sweet," said Alfred, and taking a piece of cake out of his pocket, crumbled it, and threw it towards the bird. The little thing picked it up, and fluttered about, and chirped, and seemed quite de- lighted. "It is the same bird it is my own dickey," said Alfred, rejoiced to see him again. " Ah, we will have a bower again, this year. That is the way to keep a bird, a great deal better than putting it in a cage." So the little boys set to work, and taking out their knives and some string, which Alfred had in hia pocket, began to tie the branches together ; then they got some turf and made seats within, and then some long grass to lay on them, and to twine between the sticks, and they worked away, right merrily, chatting all the time ; Alfred informing Edwin of a great many things of which he had never heard, and which was quite amusing." The sun, however, set, without their being aware JIT GEATTDFATIIEIl's STOEIES. 249 of it, and they were warned by the twilight, that it was time to think of returning home. " Well, we cannot finish it to-night, we must come next Saturday afternoon," said Alfred; "and when we have made it a very pretty place, we will ask your mother and my mother to come and see it. I will tell you what we will do. "We will have a drawing- room here, and parlour here, and another room here ;. and here I will have a little chapel." "Ha! ha! ha!" said Edwin, "that is droll. A chapel ! What do you want a chapel for ? Why, I do not like a chapel. When I went last Sunday afternoon, it was so hot, and I was so sleepy, and I had eaten such a good dinner, that I felt quite drowsy. When the minister began, I fell asleep, and then my father gave me a push in the back, and said, * Keep your eyes open,' but I could not ; then, because I could not sing, I got another push in the back ; and so it is every Sunday. I will not help to build a chapel, that I will not. There is no good in that. Let us build a play-house, and play Jackth& Giant Killer. Kobert Bounce can come up, and play the giant ; I will be Jack ; and you can be the old conjuror. Then we can play Jack and the Bean-stalk. That tall tree will make a capital bean-stalk. Will it not ? I suppose by your wanting to play at chapel, you wish to be the parson." "Now, you do not understand me a bit," said Alfred : " I do not want to play at chapel at all ; I really mean it. I should like to have a little place set quite apart by itself ; I should like to dress it with flowers and garlands, and put in it everything 250 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. that was beautiful ; and then I should like to come sometimes, and kneel down, and say my prayers there." " What ! your real prayers the same as you say of a night when you go to bed Our Father, and all that. "Why it always sends me off to sleep ; and sometimes I get a knock, if I happen to gape ; and now I think of it, it makes me do the same. It always sets me a yawning, when I think of my prayers." "Is it possible?" " "Why, do you not see it does," said he, yawning. " I hate to think about God it makes me quite dull and drowsy." " Well, it makes me quite the reverse. The more I think about God, the more it enlivens me up. Why, I think God is always close by me. Oh ! I do love him so, you do not know." " There now, that is what my mamma says I should do ; but I cannot, I am always so frightened. Oh ! it is very awful. But come, it is getting dark, let us go." " I am ready," said Alfred ; and so the little fellows prepared to depart ; Edwin finished bending down a few more hazel twigs, and the other cleared away the long grass from the bottom of the bower. " There," said he, " we may as well leave it nice and tidy. I hope it will not be wet next week," said Edwin, "and then, you know, we shall be able to finish it, and have n feast, or something." " "Well, I hope it will be wet," said Alfred. " Why do you ? That is strange." MT GRANDFATHER'S STORIES. 251 " Because I heard a farmer say that a little wet would do a great deal of good. Ay, you say you do not like to talk about God ; did you ever go out after a shower, and notice how lovely the grass looks, and the flowers, and everything ? Then what a beautiful day was to-day ; and then how happy we have been, and what nice things we have to eat apples and pears, and fruit, and everything we can think of. You know we should not have any of these, if it was not from God we might not be alive, you know. Well, I feel as if I never could thank God enough, if I should live to be a man." During this latter sentence the two boys had left their bower, and were some little distance from it, on their road homeward. They had just reached the corner of a cross-road, and whom should they meet but Spanks and his companions. " Ah, Mr. Deserter," said Spanks, " you will be late home as well as us ; have you had some good sport ?" " Pretty well," said Alfred. "But where are the other boys ?" " Oh, some are gone one way, and some another. There has been such a fight ; " and then he told him ubout the combat between llushton and Dashwood, " Then, your sham fight turned out a real one." " Yes," said Spanks ; " and we have left one wounded man in the wood." "How left him?" " Oh, he pretended to be very bad ; but I know him well enough, he is used to shamming. When he does not want to go to school, he shams, and makes 252 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. his mother "believe he is very ill, and all sorts of ways he has with him, and he shams everything ; we were not going to be taken in that way, were we ?" said he, appealing to his companions. "What! is Eushton really left in the wood?" said Alfred, " and it is almost eight o'clock it will soon be dark. Is he very much hurt ? do tell me." "Do not I tell you it is all sham? " said Spanks, peevishly ; " but, if you want to go after him, you will find him close to the dead man's tree, where the poacher shot the game-keeper, and went and hung himself on it afterwards." " And all alone, by himself," said Alfred. " Oh, do not you go," said Edwin, " do not you go ; I will not go with you ; I should be frightened out of my wits." " Go ; I should think not," said another of the boys ; " do not you remember how he knocked you backward this morning ? " " I shall go," said Alfred ; " I do not know the place, however. Is it anywhere near that beautiful group of larch trees ? " "Larch trees ?" said several of the boys, and not one of them knew what a larch tree was. " I cannot tell you any more about it," said Spanks ; " it is somewhere in the middle of the wood ; but I'll have nothing to do with him, he would always do as he liked, you all know that." " Of course," said several together, " he always would have everything his own way." " Now I think of it again, I will go with you," said Edwin ; " I was not afraid of the dog, was I ? MY GRAKDFATHEE S STOEIES. 1:^.3 A boy's life is of more value than a lamb's, is it not ?" said lie to Alfred. " Indeed it is ; I thought you would not leave me ; we will soon find him : come along, come along." Alfred and Edwin now turned in the direction of the wood, and having entered it, made towards its centre as quickly as possible. Their progress, how- ever, was but slow, owing to the thickness of the underwood, and from their having several times missed their path. It grew darker and darker every moment, and the very small quantity of light which fell was partially intercepted by the mossy foliage of the overhanging trees. But Alfred and Edwin kept close together, and groped along as well as they were able. At last, as they were pushing through some thick boughs, Edwin uttered a piercing cry. " What is the matter?" said Alfred. " Oh, I have scratched my face with a briar, right across, I can feel it wet with the blood. Oh dear, oh dear." " Do not cry for a scratch," said Alfred ; " I am all over scratches, and yet you never heard me cry out ; and, just now, a twig cut me in the eye, and made it flash fire. "What matters, if we get poor Eushton out of the wood." " Poor Eushton ! ay, he was not very poor Eush- ton when he knocked me down this morning." " In a worse condition then than he is now," said Alfred : " I will be bound he is sorry enough now for being a tyrant ; that is the very reason why I would not let him be in the wood all night, for ever so much, 254 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. if I can help it. Hark ! what is that ? We must be near the road there is the rumbling of a cart. :> " No, it is not. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! we are going to have a tempest. It was thunder I sa\v a glare of lightning in that direction just this moment, and we may be struck dead. I wish I was at home." " And suppose we were to be struck dead are we not doing what is right ? I do not mind being struck dead, if " " Ob, you wicked boy ! Oh, Alfred Daunton, I did not think you would say such a word! I shall go back." " If it shall please God that I should die by light- ning, or fever, or small-pox, or anything else, it will be his will, and his will should be my will. All I know is, that God will take my soul away at the lest time. My mother says, ' Do what is right, and leave the consequences.' It is right for us to rescue Rush- ton from the wood ; we are not to be afraid of thun- der, or lightning, or tempest, or anything else, when we are doing what is right. Do not you understand that ? You were not afraid of the dog or the water, you know." " Ay, but it is so dark here." " Where God is there can be nothing dark. Can- not you tell what is right or wrong, as well with your eyes shut as open ; as well after the candle is out as when it is alight ? Why, the darker it grows, the more bold I always get." " Oh, but it is so lonely!" " You forget God is with us we cannot be lonely, or alone. Do not you know, that it says in the Bible, MY aBANDFATIIEn's STORIES. 255 He is about our bed, and about our path. Hush ! I think we are not far from the place listen." The boys stopped awhile, and took breath; they were sorely tired, by making their way through the bushes and thick grass, and Edwin was nearly ex- hausted. " I think I hear a noise," said Alfred. " See ! there is a light among the branches. Why, I declare we are on the edge of Mossley Hole. It is a good thing we stopped as we did, or we should have been over the crag." Mossley Hole was a very deep excavation, which, many years before had been made in digging away large quantities of gravel; it was of considerable depth, and overgrown with brambles, young trees, and weeds. In some places the upper earth had shelved down, carrying some of the maple and fir- trees with it, and these large lumps of earth gave it a more hideous appearance. It was the picture of wildness and deso- lation by day ; and, to one of the young adventurers, far more dreadful by night. " Oh, Mossley Hole ! " said Edwin ; " oh, that is a terrible place." " "Why, it is the most beautiful spot in the whole wood. I used to call it my little earthquake, and the rabbits frisk about in it as merry as can be. I have stood by the hour to watch them," said Alfred. " But, what can that light be? it moves about. Do you see it there, just below ?" " Oh, it is Jack-with-the-lantern Will-with-the- wisp,'" said Edwin ; " it will lead us into the river, or ditch, or pond, or something; do not follow it." 256 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. " I do not think it is a Will-with-the-wisp," replied Alfred. " Do not you know that all about here is a dry, gravelly soil, and Will-with-the-wisps are only seen in fenny, damp places Hush! some one speaks it comes this way." " Call out to them, they will lend us their lantern," said Edwin. " Let us wait awhile, and see who they are," said Alfred ; " here, take hold of this branch, and lean over the edge of the pit." Two figures were now to be discerned by the light of their lantern, pro- ceeding cautiously among the broken crags and fallen trees. They spoke not, but came nearer and nearer, till they stood directly under the place over which the boys were now bending in anxious suspense. When they came thus near, Alfred whispered to his companion. " Do you see who that is in the rough coat ? that is Jerry Moffatt, the man who was tried for poisoning the horses." " Why, so it is ; I know him, he set his bull-dog upon our little spaniel, and almost killed it." " They are after no good," said Alfred. " Hush ! " The persons, who were now near enough to be dis- tinguished, were two vicious fellows, who got their living by poaching, robbing, and other illegal methods. They had committed numerous crimes, and, by using great caution and dexterity, had till now evaded the penalties of the law ; and, emboldened by their suc- cess, had gone on from one crime to another, till they were completely hardened, and fit for anything. " Here is the burrow," said Jerry ; " now then, unco- ver, and get the tools out, while I load the bull-dogs." MY GRANDFATHER'S STOEIES. 257 His companion did as he was ordered ; and, in a few minutes, took from an old rabbit-burrow various house- breaking implements, while Moffatt sat down very deliberately, and loaded his pistols. "There," said he, "there are a couple of boluses in each, and if the old rascal gets one of these in his paunch, he will not make any more barley-broth, or preach any more sermons." " And, what is better," said the other, " he will not send you to the tread-mill, as he Avauted to do the other day." " The old blackguard," said Moffatt, with an oath, " I should like to send these two bullets through his stupid old head, and I will not stand nice about it." " Is it agreed," said the other, " that we should crack the cellar-window, and get in that way ? " " Yes : and then we must cut through the door at the top of the stairs into the hall, and then work our way for the church plate. On Saturday night it is always taken out of the iron safe in the wall, and taken up, and put under the old rascal's bed. We must go right into his chamber. If he should happen to wake, we will soon put him to sleep again." By this time the two depredators had equipped themselves with their tools and arms ; they then both besmeared their faces with charcoal and red ochre, and turning the lantern in another direction, left the spot, while poor Alfred and Edwin were overcome with fear. " If they come back, they will murder us," said Edwin. " Oh, I wish I had never come into this place ! " " "Why, you ought to be glad," said Alfred ; " if we * s 253 THE HOLIDAY BOOK.. mind what we are about, we shall save more than one life to-night they are going to steal the church plate, and kill the rector. But, let us try once more if we can find our way to hangman's tree ; and, if we do not come to it presently, we will run home as fast as we can, and tell all we have heard, and get assist- ance." So saying, Alfred and his companion turned again into the mazes of the forest. After groping their way about, they at last came to the spot where Eushton laid they were directed to it by his groans, but he spoke not ; they tried to rouse him, but to no purpose he had sunk exhausted, from his pain, upon the earth. "What shall we do ?" said Edwin. " Have you got a top-line in your pocket ? " asked Alfred. " Here, give it me I have got another. Then, come, take out both your boot-laces I will do the same. Now, then, take off the band from your hat, and, and "Why, you are mad, I am sure," said Edwin ; ''and how the wind roars ! Oh, I wish we had never come here !" "You must do as I tell you," said Alfred, "if ever you expect to leave this place." So saying, the little fellow took out his pocket knife, and began cutting some of the long hazel rods that grew around him. These, with the aid of the top- lines, boot-laces, and hat-band, were soon tied together, in the form of a litter, and the wounded general was laid thereon. "Now, you take hold behind, and I before, and we will get out of the wood as fast as possible. Aud see there is the moon!" MY GEANDFATHEE'S STOEIES. 259 At this moment, the bright moon burst from the thick clouds in which she had been enshrouded, and threw a full light upon the little adventurers : by its aid they were soon enabled to retrace their steps, and in a very short space of time were out of the wood, and never stopped till they rested with their burden at the door of Alfred's mother's house. Alfred, after sending intelligence to Mrs. Rushton concerning her son, and getting him properly provided for, now accompanied his mother to the rector's, where he detailed in full what he had heard of the intentions of the robbers. The family had already retired to rest, but immediately got up ; and, placing confidence in Alfred's story, obtained the assistance of half a dozen strong men, who posted themselves around the premises. Here they waited till about two o'clock, when a noise was heard, and Moffatt and his companion stole on tip-toe towards the back window, which they com- menced cutting through. Presently a hole was made large enough for one to enter. At this moment two of the men servants rushed forth, and seized Moffatt : the other immediately fled; but, as the moon was shining brightly, other persons ran after him, and in a lew minutes he was secured, and the family thus saved i'rom robbery, and perhaps murder. I need not say how thankful everybody was to Alfred, nor how happy his mother was in finding her son the instrument of so much good to others ; but she had sown the good seed, and it gave forth early fruit. My young friends may also learn from this, that fighting propensities, and a love of bloodshed 82 260 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. only in sport, are not calculated to make boys or men heroes. A man may be a very great hero, and never fire a gun ; he may be brave as a Wellington without being a soldier. The highest bravery is moral bravery ; and the greatest courage is in doing what is right, in spite of all temptations and excitements to do what is wrong. 261 How many young persons know what a pump is, and are unacquainted with the manner by which water is raised by it from the earth. In early times wells were universally used, and water was drawn from them in buckets by the hand. The first improvement upon this was by means of a lever, as represented in the next page, by which the bucket is fastened to one end of the lever by a cord, while the person wishing to raise the water hauls down the other end ; but, as knowledge advanced, a better method of raising water was discovered. 2G2 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. This better method is performed by the agency of a machine called a pump, of which the larger engraving is a section. It is a hollow cylinder, with a sort of bucket, as it is called by the plumber, in the upper part, to which a rod is attached, arid another towards the bot- tom, which is fixed. These buckets are called more properly pistons, and the rod above the upper one the piston rod. The tipper piston is called the sucker or sucking piston. Both these pistons are hollow, and each has a valve or lid at the top ; when shut, these valves fit close to the hollow of the piston, so as perfectly to shut out the air ; but they are fixed on hinges which move very easily, and give way to a very light pressure : both open upwards towards the top of the pump. The lower piston or plug is, as before stated, fixed, while the upper plug moves up and down. When the barrel of the pump is empty, the space between the buckets is filled with air ; and when the upper bucket is forced down by the rod, the air between the buckets will press down the lower valve of the bucket and shut it ; at the same time its upper pressure will open the valve of the upper bucket, through which a portion of the air will escape. When this bucket begins to ascend, the valve will fall and close the piston, and prevent the air entering the THE PUMP. 263 pump from above. As it ascends, an empty space or vacuum will be left in the pump, which the external air will endeavour to rush in to fill. As the lower valve also opens upwards, it will yield to the pressure from below. The pressure of the air, therefore, will force the water through the plug into the barrel of the pump: at the next descent of the sucker the water will pass through its valve into the upper chamber, and the next motion upwards will carry it through the spout. The FOECING PUMP consists of two parts or barrels, one similar to the common pump, and the other rising by its side and connected to it near the lower valve. The water is first raised in the former part in the same way as in the common pump, excepting that the piston has no opening valve, but is solid, and the air is forced out through the side valve into the adjoining tube or barrel. Through this valve the water is also forced, and the pressure of the descending piston makes it rise and enter the ascending tube and issue out at the top. The length of the tube may be increased at pleasure. 2C4 PICTUEE LESSOR. AECHITECIURE. THE subjoined engraving represents the different orders of architecture, and their application to the purposes of building. The origin of all regular build- ings may be referred to the first wants of man ; and the first were either arched huts, as seen in the plate No. 2, or sticks conically placed together, as at No. 4. But the figures aud construction of huts were soon changed by giving them the form of a cube. Mankind still improved in the art of building, and invented methods of rendering their habitations durable and handsome, as well as convenient. They deprived the trunks of trees of their bark, raised them above the wet or humid soil by means of stones, and also covered each with a flat stone or slate to exclude the rain, as seen at No. 10. "When the rude builder began to erect stately edifices of stone, he imitated those parts which, from necessity, had com- posed the priu.itive hut. Thus the upright trees, with stones at tluir ends, were the origin of columns (figure 9), bases, and capitals, and the beams, joists, and rafters, which formed the covering, and gave rise to architraves, friezes, and cornices. The Egyptian archi- tecture is represented at a former page; and that of the Greeks may be seen in the centre of the engraving. The Greek architecture was followed by the Romans, and they carried it to the highest perfection. Two pillars of the principal orders, the Ionic and the Primitive Huts 1. South American. 2. New Zealand. ,, 3. Ireland. Architecture 4. Egyptian. 6. Greek. 6. Roman. Architecture 7. Ionic Column. 8. Corinthian Column 9. Saxon. 10. Norman. 11. SaracenicorGothic 12. Turkish. Architecture. AECHITECTUEE. 205 Corinthian, are seen in the compartments 1 and 5 ; and a temple of the latter order in the right-hand corner and back centre of the engraving. The Gothic architecture was formerly in use iu England and on the Continent, and is now again reviving in this country. It is divided into Norman, Saxon, anu. Saracenic. In the Saxon architecture may be distinguished the rounded arch, plainly orna- mented, as seen in compartment 6. In the Norman architecture, the arches were highly ornamented with the figures of angels, fruits, animals, &c. ; while sub- jects of the most serious and most comic kind were usually blended together. The walls were almost always without buttresses ; and the arches were sup- ported by solid clumsy pillars, with a regular base and capital, which were adorned with the carvings of foliage and animals. The Saracenic or Grothic archi- tecture abounds in numerous and prominent but- tresses, lofty spires and pinnacles, ornamented niches and canopies, sculptured saints and angels, and fretted roofs. This style is supposed to be Arabian, and to have been introduced into Europe by the Crusaders. The florid Gothic abounds in elaborate canopies, orna- mented pinnacles, and rich decorations of foliage, fruit, and flowers. A specimen of this kind of archi- tecture is given in the compartment No. 7 ; while the Turkish mode of building may be seen in the back centre of the engraving, to the right. At the Eeformation, and more particularly during the great Rebellion, the desolating hands of sacrilegious THE HOLIDAY BOOK. persons destroyed many of the most beautiful speci- mens of Gothic architecture, and despoiled them of their most beautiful ornaments ; and from the time of Henry VIII. Gothic architecture began to decline, and was succeeded by a style in which the Grecian and Gothic were mixed together. But a purer taste now prevails, and modern buildings display great improve- ment in this kind of architecture. 267 A CHRONOLOGICAL EPITOME OF THE HISTOET OP AECHITECTTJEE IN ENGLAND. I have here attempted to show, at one view, an approximation to the date, duration, and character- istics of the principal styles ; some examples, and the names of the most eminent architects and sculp- tors engaged on the several buildings : The Romans invaded Britain fifty-five years before Christ. Prom them we derive the Anglo-Roman style, which lasted about 300 years. The leading features of this kind of architecture were different from those employed in Italy. Various Eoman remains show frequent use of flat red bricks ; often- times alternated with stones ; circular arches some- times ornamented with them. The principal examples of this style in England are St. Martin's Church, Canterbury ; gateway at Lin- coln ; Eichborough Castle. Tacitus speaks of temples, etc. ; but of these we know little. We are not acquainted with the names of any architects of this period. The style that succeeded was the Anglo-Saxon, which lasted about 400 years. The Saxons arrived in Britain about A.D. 450, and the architecture gra- dually improved during the reigns of Egbert, Alfred, and his successors to the year 1066. The earliest buildings of this time were probably in imitation of Eoman or Byzantine structures. Circular arches on short columns, or square pillars; triangular arches occur occasionally; zig-zag and hatched mouldings. It is doubtful whether any entire Saxon building 268 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. remains. The tower of Earl's Barton Church, and that of St. Peter's, Lincolnshire, are usually admitted to be of this era. The most eminent architects who flourished during this period are Benedict Biscop (seventh century) ; Wilfrid, Enabald (eighth) ; Alcuin, Ednoth of Worcester (tenth). Then follows the Anglo-Norman style, which "came in with the Conqueror," and lasted about ninety years. This style boasted buildings of larger dimensions and greater regularity than the Saxon. Circular arches resting on massive cylindrical, square pillars, which were sometimes adorned with spiral grooves, and simple groining, are the principal features of this style- Doors deeply recessed, and presenting occasionally a series of figures enclosed in mouldings; interlaced circular arches; zig-zag, fret, and billet moulding. An instance of the pointed arch occurs in the reign of Henry I. (11001135.) During this period many castles were erected in England. The principal examples of this style we now possess are the nave of Eochester Cathedral ; St. Bartholomew's Church, Smithfield ; Barfreston Church, and Castor Church, Northamptonshire; St. Cross, Hampshire; Eochester Castle ; Clifford's Tower, York. The principal archi- tects were Lanfranc (ob. 1089) ; Walkelyn (ob. 1097) ; Gundulph of Eochester (ob. 1108). This style continued in use for some years after the in- troduction of the next, the Early Pointed Style. This is also termed the Lancet style, and the Early English Style. It lasted about 150 years, during the reigns of Stephen, Henry II., Eichard I., John, and Henry III. Its principal AECHITECTUEE. 269 characteristics are narrow, pointed, or lancet-headed windows, which soon after were built much wider, and were divided by mullions, with trefoil and quartre- foil ornaments ; vaultings pointed ; columns, etc., less massive than during the Inst period ; ordinarily divided into several shafts. In the reign of Henry III. this style was perfected. Many specimens of this style are to be seen in the present day. Among others we may mention the Temple Church, in the Temple, London ; Winchester Cathedral ; the nave of Lincoln and of Wells Cathedral ; Salisbury Cathe- dral ; Durham Cathedral, and the Choir of West- minster Abbey. The principal architects were Henry of Blois (1163); William of Sens (1175); William of England ; Bishop Hugh (ob. 1200) ; and Bishop Poore (ob. 1237). Following this we have The Pointed Style, which is called also the Pure Gothic. This style lasted about a hundred years, during the reigns of Edwards I., II., and III., that is from the year 1272 to the year 1377. In this style we notice Increased grace and elegance ; arches better proportioned ; windows divided by numerous mullions with tracery ; ribs of groining more elaborate than heretofore ; pinnacles, finials, and crockets ; spires ; ornamented flying buttresses ; rich corbels and canopies. The principal buildings we possess in this style are Exeter Cathedral ; the Crosses at Geddington, Northampton, and Waltham ; Trinity Church, Ely ; St. Stephen's Chapel, Westminster. The famous architects of the period were Henry Latomus (ob. 1319) ; Will Boyden (1326) ; Huh de Eversden (ob. 1326) ; Alan de Walsingham (1363) ; and Wm. of Wykeham (ob. 1401.)- 270 THE HOI-TDAY BOOK. The Florid Pointed Style, which is also known as tne Perpendicular and the Tudor, succeeded ; and lasted in its purity for nearly 150 years ; that is, the beginning of the reign of Bichard II., in 1307, to the accession of Henry VIII., in 1509. The principal examples of this splendid style now in England are Westminster Hall; west front Winchester Cathedral; King's College Chapel, Cambridge; St. George's Chapel, Windsor ; and Henry VII.'s Chapel, West- minster. The character of this style is well known. The windows were very large sometimes, with hori- zontal embattled transoms. The general b'nes of mullions, &c., are perpendicular. Horizontal transoms over the doorways, with ornamented spandrils, lofty turrets, and cupolas. Elaborate panelb'ng ; rich fan- like tracery to vaultings ; heraldic ornaments ; pointed arches; details overwrought. In private residences, security was less studied than during the preceding periods, and convenience more. The most celebrated architects who adopted this elegant style of building were Chichele (ob. 1443) ; Closs (ob. 1452) ; Bishop Wayneflete (ob. 1486) ; Bishop Beauchamp ( ob. 1481); Bishop Alcock (ob. 1500); Sir Eeg. Bray (ob. 1503); John Hylmer (1507); Prior Bolton (1532). The Elizabethan follows. This is sometimes called the Late Tudor. It lasted about 120 years ; that is, during the reigns of Henry VIII., Edward VI., Mary, Good Queen Bess, and the Learned James of Scotland: 1509 1625. The main points observable in the Eb'zabethan style were The perverted use of forms received from Greece and Rome; grotesque pilasters ; small columns, sometimes tapering to the ABCHITECTTJBE. 271 bottom; escutcheons, &c., in baked clay; vitrified bricks placed in squares or diagonal lines as ornaments; many private residences of great extent were built during this period. The principal buildings we now possess in this style are Longleat House, Wiltshire; Hatfield House ; Schools at Oxford ; Chimney-piece in Queen Elizabeth's Gallery, Windsor Castle; Audley End, Essex ; Northumberland House, Strand. The most eminent architects were John of Padua (1544); Holbein (1544) ; Sir E. Lea, John Thorpe, E. Adams (ob. 1595) ; T. Holte, Stickles, and Gerard Christmas. The Revival Style occupied the period from Charles I. to George IV. The Banqueting-house, Whitehall, built by Inigo Jones, who died in 1652, will show the kind of buildings that were erected during this time. The old forms of Greece and Eome were adopted, and we observe in all these buildings columns and entablatures of the established orders of architecture viz., Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite. . The Modern Gothic is the last and latest style of architecture in use in England. This is a highly- decorated form of the Gothic or Pointed Style, and is much patronised, though hardly suited to our climate. St. George's Cathedral, in Southwark, built by W. Welsby Pugin (who died in 1852), and the New Houses of Parliament, erected from the designs of Charles Barry, are the most noticeable examples of this style yet erected. Examples of all these styles may be seen and studied at the Crystal Palace at Sydenham. 272 THE ELECTEIC TELEGEAPH. ONE of the wonders of modern science is, decidedly, the electric telegraph. Our readers may not be aware that the system of telegraphic communication is old almost as old as the hilla. "We find it resorted to by the men of all countries and all ages by the rude barbarian and the polished Greek alike. For this purpose the Roman used the flag and the banner the Greek lit fires on the mountain-tops the untutored Indian ascends some neighbouring hill, where he stands as a signal or a guide, with arms uplifted to the sky. "When the Spaniards discovered Mexico, they found an extensive system of communication by means of couriers trained from childhood, whose dress was indicative of the news they bore. The history of our own country supplies us with instances of similar attempts. "When the Armada hovered on our shores, beacon-fires were lighted, and a fiery warning passed through the land. The Italian historian, Strada, is generally supposed to have given the first idea of the modern telegraph. In one of his essays he gives an account of a corre- spondence carried on by the help of a loadstone, which, if touched by two several needles, the other, at what- ever distance it might be, moved at the same time, and in the same manner. He says, " That two friends possessed of these needles made a dial plate, and fixed one in each of them, so that it could move without impediment to any of the twenty-four letters. Upon their separating, they agreed to withdraw to their THE ELECTEIC TELEGRAPH. 273 closets at a certain hour, and there to converse. To accomplish this, when some hundreds of miles asunder, each one shut himself up at the time appointed, directed the needle of his dial to every letter of the words he wished to use, making a pause at each to avoid confusion; and his friend saw his own sympathetic needle moving to every letter which that of his cor- respondent indicated." How far the Jesuit priest knew and foreshadowed the power of electricity re- mains doubtful. However, in 1684, a mode of com- : munication was mentioned to the Royal Society, by which intelligence was sent from any high place to another as quickly as it could be written. In his " Century of Inventions " the Marquis of "Worcester tells us " how at a window, as far as one can discover black from white, a man may hold discourse with his correspondent." In 1794, the French Directory established a system which is thus described : " At the first station, which was on the roof of the Louvre, M. Chappe received in writing from the Committee of Public Safety the words to be sent to Lisle, near which the French army at the time was. An upright post was erected on the Louvre. At the top of this were two transverse arms, moveable in all directions with much rapidity. The different position of these arms stood as signs for the letters of the alphabet, and these he reduced as much as possible. Having received the sentence to be conveyed, he gave a signal to the second station to prepare. At each station there was a watch tower, on which telescopes were fixed, and: the person on the watch gave the signal of preparation which he had received, and this communicated sue- 274 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. cessively through all the line, which brought them into a state of readiness. The person at the second sta- tion received, letter by letter, the sentence from the Louvre, which he repeated with his own machine, and this was again repeated from the next, with almost an inconceivable rapidity to the final station at Lisle." In 17C5, Great Britain followed the example set by France, and the Admiralty adopted a plan of a six- shutter telegraph, proposed by Lord George Murray. About this time, also, the electric spark was used. Arthur Young, speaking of a Monsieur Leonard, says "You write two or three words on a paper he takes it with him into a room, and turns a machine enclosed in a cylindrical case, at the top of which is an electrometer a small five-pith ball ; a wire con- nects with a similar cylinder and electrometer in a distant apartment, and his wife, by remarking the cor- responding motions of the ball, writes down the words they indicate, from which, it appears, he has formed an alphabet of motions. As the length of the wire makes no difference in the effect, a correspondence might be carried on at any distance." There were other forerunners who from time to time came before the public ; but their names were soon forgotten, and their plans died away. The father of the system at length arose in the person of Mr. Cooke, who, having become acquainted at Heidelberg with Professor Moenche, witnessed some experiments intended to illustrate the possi- bility of signalising by electricity. He came to London, obtained a patent with Professor Wheat- stone, and devoted himself to the extension of that THE ELECTEIC TELEGRAPH. 275 wonderful system by which time and space are annihilated, and thought made to travel with the speed of the lightning's flash. The following is the description of Mr. "Wheatstono of this wonderful application of science to practical purposes : " Here is what may be called a dial with five ver- tical magnetic needles. On this dial twenty letters of the alphabet are marked, and the various letters are indicated by the mutual convergence of two needles, when they are caused to move. If the first needle turn to the right, and the second to the left, ' h ' is indicated ; if the first needle deviates to the right, and the fourth to the left, then ' b ' is in- dicated ; if the same needles converge downwards, then ' v ' is pointed to. These magnetic needles are acted upon by electrical currents passing through coils of wire placed immediately behind them. Each coil forms a portion of a communicating wire, which may extend to any distance whatever. These wires, at their termination, are connected with an apparatus consisting of five longitudinal and two transverse metal bars in a wooden frame, the latter being united to the two poles of a voltaic battery, which ordinarily have no metallic communication with the longitudinal bars, on each of which two stops, forming two parallel rows, are placed. When a stop of the upper row is pressed down, the bar on which it is placed forms a metallic communication with the transverse bar below, which is connected with one of the poles of the battery ; and when a stop of the lower row is touched, T2 276 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. another longitudinal bar forms a metallic communica- tion with the other pole of the voltaic battery, and the current flows through the two wires connected with the longitudinal bars, to whatever distance they may- extend." COAL AXD GAS. Fern in Coal. COAL. ONE of the most wonderful as well as the most useful productions of the earth is coal. Its origin is ex- tremely curious. From geological researches made during these last few years, it is proved that all the hard black inflammable substance we call coal, has been formed from vegetable matter, such'as trees and shrubs, which, in ages yet remote and long before the earth was as it now is, were carried down by primeval rivers and deposited in the bed of the sea. These deposits, having lain at the bottom of the sea for ages, were, by some great revolution of the globe, raised so as to form dry land. Again sub- merged, other deposits of sand, clay and stone, were formed over them ; and from some convulsion or other they appear at last to have been broken up. 278 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. The following is a representation of the layers or strata, as they are also called, of a part of the Bristol coal field, the section being through the Mendip Hills. Here the stratum marked K, which rises to 9 9 the summit, is old red sandstone ; this is flanked on both sides by limestone, o. This section also ex- hibits another geological formation of frequent occur- rence. It shows that the disturbance, before spoken dt, took place a great many ages before the newer secondary strata, K, K, were deposited ; for these strata lie as it were on the turned-up ends of the coal strata. Sometimes the coal measures, as they are called that is, the strata of coals are broken right across ; but the coal, instead of going exactly in the same line, sinks down on one Bide to various depths, from a few inches to several fathoms. Sometimes these faults are mere rents, the two masses of strata re- maining close together; at other times they are very wide, and filled with frag- ments of the broken strata embedded in clay. COAL AND OAS. 279 In Montague Colliery, a part of the Newcastle coal-field, there is a dyke which is twenty- two yards wide. Some- times the dykes occur almost close to each other, as in the an- nexed diagram, repre- senting a section of the Yarrow Colliery, in the county of Durham, where there are five different dykes, D, producing changes in the position of the strata on each side of them. That coal is of vegetable origin is proved by vege- tables and parts of vegetables being discovered in it. Besides this, there are vast quantities of fossil plants found in the sandstones and shales which lie among the beds of coal. These are often in an extraordi- nary degree of preservation ; for the most delicate leaves are spread out on the stone like the dried plants on the paper of the liortus siccus of a botanist. How perfectly the forms are preserved is seen in the prefixed specimen, shown in the engraving at the head of this article. This plant belongs to the fern tribe, and is a specimen from one of the shale beds of a coal-field in Silesia, in Germany ; but others, quite as distinct in form, are common ia the coal-fields of this country. About three hundred different species of plants have been discovered in the coal measures of this and of foreign countries ; and of these nearly two-thirds have a close resemblance to feres. Among 280 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. the rest, one tribe of plants resembles very much the weed which is commonly called horse-tail, which is about a foot long ; but the plants of this kind found in the coal-shales are often twenty feet long, and as thick as a man's thigh ; and at the period at which these plants lived, there flourished, in a damp, dank, rank and luxurious growth, groves of such plants as are now tropical with us, namely, those akin to Nor- folk Island; pines, bananas, tree ferns, huge cacti, and palms ; while tall rushes, fifteen or sixteen feet high, filled all the marshes, and coverts of mighty ferns the deep and dank valleys. In England and Wales there are twelve great coal- fields, as they are called, the principal of which lie in Durham and Lancaster, and always to the north and north-west of London. The eastern and north- eastern counties are quite destitute of coal, being composed of strata below which coal has never been found. As coal lies generally deep in the earth, to procure it, it is necessary to dig a deep hole, which is called sinking a shaft. This occasionally goes to a great depth, and passes through quicksands and springs of water. The water is pumped up by steam engines. The depth of the coal varies ; sometimes it is within fifty feet of the surface, and at other times the mines are sunk to the depth of one hundred and thirty fathoms, and extend under the sea to a considerable distance. The coal mines of Whitehaven are of this kind, and are of such prodigious magnitude and ex- tent that in one of them alone a sum exceeding half a million sterling was expended in the course of a cen COAL AND GAS. 281 tury by the proprietors. Their principal entrance is by an opening at the bottom of a hill, through a long passage hewn in the rock, leading to the lowest vein of coal; the greater part of this descent being through, spacious galleries, which continually intersect other galleries, all the coal being cut away, with the excep- tion of large pillars, which, where the mine runs to a considerable depth, are nine feet in height and six feet by one at the base. Coal mines are subject to many accidents ; but the explosions of inflammable gas or fire-damp are most frequent, and by far the most calamitous in their con- sequences. This gas is produced in great quantities from the coals while the mines are working. The coals that lie very deep give out the most gas ; and as it cannot at all times readily escape, it accumu- lates in all the fissures of the strata above the coal. These fissures are sometimes very extensive, and there are occasionally long communications from one fissure to another. While the miners are working they sometimes cut into one of these fissures, and the gas rushes out with immense force. These blowers, as they are called, emit occasionally as much as 700 hogsheads of gas in a minute, and continue in a state of activity for a month together. When the mines are properly venti- lated this gas is expelled, and does no injury ; but sometimes it is accidentally set on fire, and then it produces dreadful explosions, and bursts out with great fury, killing all those who stand in its way. If there be more than one part in fourteen of the gas mixed with air, the whole becomes explosive, and 282 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. must not be approached with a naked flame ; and to ff*. prevent the recurrence of numerous awful explosions which used formerly to take place, the safety lamp of Sir Humphry Davy was invented. This celebrated chemist made the im- portant discovery that flame will not pass through a very small opening ; and, guided by this principle, be was at last led to the construction of an instrument which has saved, and will continue to save, the lives of hundreds, and is, indeed, one of the wonders of science. The construction of it is very simple. A is the lamp ; b is the cover, of a very fine wire gauze, which is fastened upon the lamp, and generally locked on, to prevent the miners from taking it off. The con- struction of the lamp depends upon the discovery that flame will not pass through very fine tubes, and that fire-damp will only explode at a very high temperature. The wire gauze may be looked upon as an assemblage of very short tubes with a very fine bore. It contains 620 fine apertures in the square inch. This, although it is coarse enough to admit light, does not allow flame to pass through it. Since the discovery and use of this lamp, accidents by explosion are of comparatively rare occurrence. GAS FOB ILLUMINATION. One of the greatest uses of coal is its application to the manufacture of gas, which is made by burning coals or coal-dust in a retort. The first retort was in shape something like a tobacco-pipe ; and, indeed, the way in -which gas is made may be shown on a small scale by this article. If some pounded coal be put in the bowl of a tobacco-pipe, and over the top of it a luting of wet clay be placed, and the bowl thus prepared be put into a fierce fire, the gas will com; out in the shape of smoke through the stem of the pipe, and, if a light be applied to it, will take Jfrre, and burn with a pale blue l PL- -A- Oven flame for some time. -, P i If Rrfortt The retorts used for making gas on a large scale are here shown ; they are placed hori- zontally in ovens, in groups of three, five, or seven, in each oven. The mouth of each retort stands out of the oven; and when the coal has been introduced, a lid or cover is screwed on, well luted with mortar to make it air-tight. Just behind the mouth a pipe is fitted, b, first issuing upwards, and then turning down to where it dips into a much larger pipe, called the hydraulic main, c. This main runs through the whole of the retort-house, just above the lines of the ovens, in a horizontal direction, and is generally half full of tar and water, produced from the gas. The pipe from the retort dips a few inches into the tar and water ; and its mouth is thus closed against the return of the gas, which might otherwise take place when the supply grew slack, and the retort cool. I>at this gas lias to be purified. This operation is 284 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. performed by admitting the gas into a square vessel or cistern filled with water, and divided by shelves, as in this figure. The gas enters the cis- tern at the point marked a, and is compelled to traverse the water several times in the direction of he arrows, and is well washed. Thus cleansed, the gas comes out of the pipe b, and the accumulated impurities are drawn off at the cock c. In large manufactories, however, a more simple arrangement is made use of, as is shown in the next figure, which consists of a series of iron tubes through which the gas flows. At each lower bend there is a tube, through which the condensed impurities, such as tar, etc., are drawn off. The gas, however, is still impure, as it contains a mix- ture of other gases, especially sulphuretted hydrogen, and a substance is wanted which will abstract it from the gas. To make this separation purifiers are em- ployed, and three of them are here represented. But it is not merely a mechanical process, for the purifiers are filled with lime-water, which exerts its influence GAS FOR ILLUMINATION. 285 on the sulphuretted hydrogen, so as to combine with it. The impure gas is forced through the lowest pipe , by which it is conveyed under the shelf d, and spread out through the lower half of the vessel, after which it escapes through the small holes in the upper part. "While the gas is passing through the vessel, it is kept in constant agitation by the agitator e, which is constantly turning round; and thus the gas, by being brought into continual contact with the lime, is purified. When it escapes out of the first vessel, A, it goes into the second, u, and then into the third, c, till it becomes quite pure. The gas now passes into a large vessel made to re- ceive it, and these are sometimes above 150 feet in circumference, and will contain above 100,000 feet of gas. This vessel is called the gasometer, or, more properly speaking, gas- holder. It is a very large cylindrical vessel, covered at the top, and open at the bottom, like a tumbler inverted in a bowl of water. It is placed in a tank or pit filled with water, just large enough to allow it to slide up and down, where it is suspended by a chain, which runs over two piil- leys, d d, and a weight, e. Two pipes, c c, enter the gasometer through the bottom of the tank, passing through the water and reaching a little above its sur- face. One of these pipes serves to convey the gaa THE HOLIDAY BOOK. from the works to the gasometer, and the other to carry it off when it is to be used. In this figure the gasometer is supposed to be full. If now the pipe which has brought in the gas be stopped, the gaso- meter, which has been forced up by the pressure of the gas entering through that medium, will rise no higher, but will remain suspended in its present posi- tion. When the gas is to be sent to the places where it is consumed, the other pipe is opened, and the gasometer immediately begins to sink, pressing the gas, in its descent, through an immense range of pipes often reaching many miles ; and it is a curious fact, that any increase or diminution of pressure is instantly felt at the most distant points connected with the gasometer the light increasing or diminishing at the same moment. Some of these gasometers are of im- mense size, and will contain 150,000 cubic feet of gas. It is by this contrivance that all the gaslights burn alike the whole night long ; and it shows the triumph over another difficulty which occurred in the distri- bution of gas to various quarters. It would be very easy if the lights .burning were always of the same number, but this is not the case. A few lamps only are used in the day, in dark passages, counting- houses, and such places. A small opening in the main pipe would be sufficient to supply them ; but when night comes a great number of lights are wanted, and the quantity which was sufficient before, is quite inadequate for the purpose. Towards midnight most of the lights are extin- guished, and the few remaining would, if the same pressure continued, be filled too full, and the flames GAS FOB ILLUMINATION. 287 would rise too high. Tbe opening in tbe main is tben partly closed, tbe gas flows with less rapidity, and each remaining lamp still receives only its proper supply. This difficulty, like all tbe others, has been over- come in tbe machinery, by a very clever contrivance called tbe governor, which I think you will easily understand if you look at this drawing: a is a tube through which the gas enters the governor, and Z> another tube by which it is carried off- You must remember that, in its passage from a to J, the gas will go through tbe hole h, through which a small wire passes, suspended from tbe in- side of the bell-shaped vessel c, and carrying a conical weight d. The bell-shaped vessel is inverted in water within- side the governor. Now, suppose a full stream of gas to be admitted into the pipe , when few lights are wanted, the burners would not consume all the gas supplied. The pipes would be too full without some contrivance to prevent this effect, and all the lights would smoke in consequence of this over- supply. But the governor prevents this. The pres- sure. exerted by too great a flow of gas will cause the bell-shaped vessel c to rise in the governor, and ifc will draw up with it the wire and weight d, and close the hole h more or les?, as the pressure is more or less strong, which will effectually prevent an over- supply to the burners. "When more lights are used, 288 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. which will be the case as it grows dark, the pipe I will carry off more gas than the pressure will diminish. The bell-shaped vessel, being no longer kept up by it, will drop, and the weight also dropping will leave the hole Ti open. "With this instrument the flow of gas will supply the burners according to the demand. Oil gas is much cheaper for small establishments, but not so cheap to supply cities with. The light afforded by oil gas is also much brighter than that produced from coal. The way of making it is very simple : a small stream of oil is projected into a red hot retort, partly filled with pieces of coke or brick, and it is imme- diately converted into gas, which passes through a pipe issu- ing from another part of the retort ; and little remains to be done but to cool it and deposit it in the gasometer. You may easily understand the way oil gas is made from the figure here sketched. A E is the retort ; c is a pipe which admits oil from the reservoir D into the retort ; p is an oil cistern. "When the oil is decomposed in the retort, it ascends by the pipe G, passes through the oil in the reservoir D, and proceeds to the gaso- meter by the pipe at the top. Of late many experi- ments have been made in order to produce gas from water, by separating the hydrogen of the water and THE OAS METEB. 289 passing it into receivers ; but no great success has yet been achieved. THE GAS-METEE. The use of gas as a means of artificial illumination in streets, warehouses, and private dwellings, soon became general in cities and large towns ; many companies were formed, therefore, in order to supply the demand of the public. At first these companies charged their customers a certain sum per year for each gas-burner in use ; but it was soon found that this plan was irregular in its operation, some persons consuming more, and others less, than they paid for. A system of check was then attempted, by the companies mak- ing their charge dependent on the number of hours the light in each shop or warehouse was kept burn- ing : but this again failed in its operation ; as, besides being inconvenient to the consumer of gas, it obliged the companies to act in some measure as spies upon, their customers. Another reason for its failure was that only one kind of burner, the argand, could be used so as to enable the companies and the public to reckon with any degree of certainty on the value of the gas consumed. Thus there arose constant dis- putes about the time during which lights were used, the fairness or otherwise of the rental charged, and so on, till the consumers of the new article, gas, and the producers of it threatened to come into serious iind disagreeable conflict. Just about this period in the history of gas about twenty years since the gas-meter, or gas-measurer, \\ as invented. The utility of this instrument was at * u 290 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. once acknowledged and adopted by both buyers and sellers. The latter could by its means ascertain the exact quantity consumed by each of their customers and regulate their charge accordingly, and the former knew they were paying for the gas they used and no more, and that they were enabled to use any kind of burner they chose. The annexed figure shows a ver- tical section of the ordinary instrument by which we are enabled to measure the quantity of gas which passes through the pipe to the burner. The apparatus is confined in a cylindrical iron case, the front plate of which has been removed in the engraving to show the works. This case is half filled with water in which is a wheel-like instrument and float, capable of being turned by the gas as it enters from the main supply pipe. At every revolution of this wheel, a certain volume of gas goes through the cylinder, and by means of toothed wheels and indexes in front of the metre, the number of cubic feet of gas consumed is accurately registered. In the figure shown, B is the pipe by which the gas enters the meter ; A the supply pipe to the house or shop, with the index beneath ; a the float ; and D F a toothed wheel which is put in action by the movement of the float inside, and which, communicating with other wheels, keeps the whole in working order. Without two or three other diagrams I could not more fully explain the action of the gas-meter, but sufficient has been said to show the utility of such an instrument for the purpose intended. Various me- ters of different construction, intended to work either with or without water, have been invented ; but the THE GAS-METEE. 291 principle in them all has been much the same, namely an enclosed chamber which only admits a certain quantity of gas within it, and an index to show how many times that chamber has been filled during a given time. The general introduction of gas as a means of arti- ficial illumination must be reckoned as one of the greatest blessings of modern civilisation, and yet it is but sparingly used in private dwellings. As regards safety, cleanliness, convenience in use, and illuminat- ing power, it is far before any oil-lamps or candles ever invented. More than thirty years ago, the celebrated Sydney Smith, writing to Lady Bennett from Lamb- ton Castle, asks " What is the use of splendour in your house if it be not lighted with gas ? What folly to have a diamond necklace or a picture by Correggio and not show them by the light of gas ! The splen- dour and glory of this house make all other houses U 2 292 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. look mean. How pitiful to submit to a farthing can- dle's existence, when science puts such intense grati- fication within your reach! Dear lady, spend all your fortune on a gas apparatus. Better eat dry bread by the splendour of gas than boiled beef with wax candles!" EING OUT THE JOT-BELLS. BY GEOKGE TEEDEKICK PAEDOJf. RING out the joy-bells ! a New Year is born ! Welcome him gladly and clothe him in white; Pile up the yule log ; blow trumpet and horn ; Hail him with music and crown him with light ! ]7;ur be his welcome and hearty his greeting ! Mirth, love, and jollity join hand in hand ; Shout and be merry while Old Time is fleeting ; King out the joy -bells all over the land! The Old Year is dead let us honour his ashes Eight merrily died he 'mid gaieties fair ; So, while laughter is loudest and wit brightly flashes, With dance and with music we'll welcome his heir. Clang go the cymbals, and brave sounds the hornl King out the Joy-bells ! a New Year is born 1 203 AUSTRIAN SALT MINES. SALZBURG, the nearest city to the principal salt- mines, is unequalled, for beauty of position, by any inland town in the world. A romantic castle, once belonging to the archbishops, and built 800 years ago, towers over the city ; in one of the dungeons of which an archbishop suffered a long confinement for having taken to himself a wife ; in other apartments many of the instruments of torture remain by which Protes- tants were worried out of life not very long ago. A better memorial of their pious lordships is a tunnel cut through the native rock more than 400 feet long, bearing the bust of its builder, Archbishop Sigis- mund, with the inscription, " The rocks tell of thee !" All the walks and gardens of the town are arranged so as to display the magnificence of surrounding nature, showing how busy the hand of taste has been ; while ruder art has carved half a street of dwellings out of the lime rock, erected two imposing castles, and a famous old riding-school, of solid stone. But we must hasten to Hallein, the salt-village, over which towers the salt mountain, Durnberg, which we have first to walk up on the outside, and then descend through its hollow heart. Fortunately for a lonely traveller, the church had availed herself of the constant necessity of ascending this lofty hill, and erected what she calls "a Calvary" along the way; and, being at the right season when the Catholic heart of Germany pours itself out with a peculiar and refreshing enthusiasm, fair village maidens, and some- 294 THE HOLIDAY HOOK. times tottering village sires, were my companions up the steep road ; and, every little while, a rude shrine stood at my side, with a crucifixion rudely carved, and some scene from the " Last Suffering" painted be- neath. And here this unsophisticated devotion gave free vent to itself in groans, and prayers, and sighs, and tears ; then passed on, refreshed and lightened, to the next lowly altar, where another picture carried the Saviour still nearer to his crucifixion-agony. And so I had company enough ; and of those who, though differing from me entirely in opinion, I could have fellowship with at the heart; not questioning their sincerity, in the joy which their religion evidently gave their child-souls. And so the four miles were soon finished, and I was in the office, asking per- mission to inspect subterranean works which were six centuries old ; and though I was alone, and my visit would require just as many attendants and nearly as much artificial light as the usual quota of twelve, I was at once robed in a miner's dress of white duck, my right hand guarded by a thick mit- ten, and my head protected by a well-wadded cap of coarsest fabric. The first process was to walk through a long, nar- row, dark, cool passage way, gently descending for 3,000 feet into the mountain's heart. As the work- men passed me on their way to dinner, we had to make the best of our poor caudle-light to get by one another in the confined path, and each said " Laub," a hasty contraction for the German " "With your leave, sir." And now came the curiosity of this underground journey. The gently-sloping path, sus- AUSTRIAN SALT MINES. 295 tained by boards and beams, and just wide and high enough for one beef-eating Englishman at a time, made a sudden dip, and the guide threw himself down, and made me do the same, slipped his right leg over a smooth wooden rail, and grasped with his right hand a cable supported on rollers ; and thus we slid down, as fast or slow as we pleased, a depth of 140 feet, at an angle of forty-one degrees. It was not very funny to see your only dependence in human shape sinking out of your sight into the bowels of the earth ; but I found the exercise delicious, and would recommend it to all good people who have mines to exhibit, or sunken caves to explore, as certain to bestow upon them an unprecedented popularity. This was succeeded by another gallery-walk, then a second descending shaft again a nearly horizontal footpath, followed by a third "coast" downwards and so on, the longest walk being the first, of about 3,000 feet, and the greatest descent at one time falling short of 200 feet. In no part was the air unpleasant ; the greater coolness was compensated by the constant exercise and the thick miner's dress. Several times we came upon large chambers, which showed with no brilliancy as our poor candles made their darkness visible, because the salt-spar is mixed up with large masses of earth, though some fine crystals are shown at a little museum in the centre of the mountain. After this succession of similar passages had begun to be mo- notonous, a number of little lights began to spring up all around me, as if in fairy-land ; and a flat boat, which an invisible Charon set in motion transported us at once across this lake of salt, which was over 300 feet 296 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. in length. Here was the secret of secrets. A chamber is excavated, wooden pipes are led to it and from it, the first of which bring the fresh water from mountain springs which gradually impregnates itself with strong brine ; then, after a period of months, the lower pipes are opened, and the manufactured little ocean runs off to some place where wood is plentiful where I had already seen ii a distance of thirty miles, boiling down into a beautiful pearly white article for commerce. I was not a little perplexed at first, and I find that other travellers have come away without ascertaining how the salt was procured, by not seeing the whole process going on at once, and from supposing that this pond was made by nature, and had no special concern with the government manufacture. But as fast as this lako is formed, and the fresh water dissolves the salt and separates it from the clay, another is prepared, where the mineral is thought to be more abundant; and only the worthless earth is seen in process of removal in little carts, while the precious salt carries itself out, silently and away from observation, in hollowed trunks of trees. The great care is to prevent the earth from falling in upon the workmen and crushing them, as has been the case repeatedly. But the most surpris- ing puzzle to an uninitiated observer is, why, in the process of six months or a year, this water does not run off through some natural outlet, by dissolving the salt in its way. These ponds must sometimes lie very near together, and directly above one another. Be- sides, as their roofs are entirely flat, frequently desti- tute of artificial support, and what rock there is crumbles to the touch, we might expect these wide AUSTRIAN SALT MINES. 29T sheets of water would sometimes break through. Accidents, however, are rare, though there are some- times forty excavations in a single mountain. How parties of pleasure feel in crossing over this death-like lake at such a funereal pace, with not a sound to break the oppressive stillness, and rarely a single crystal reflecting the feeble twinkle of the illumination for which you have paid, I cannot say ; but to a lone voyager like myself, it was one of the most solemn moments of life ; darkness seemed to rest like a tombstone upon me; none but fearful images filled my visions ; the repose of my body added to the gloom of my mind, and it was a blessed relief when I could use my own limbs on what seemed solid earth again. Still other slides came, one at an angle of fifty degrees, aiid one, the longest in all the works, of four hundred and sixty-eight feet. This brought me as far down as the four miles of winding road had carried me up ; but as there was none of its sudden changes of view, no wild forest, merry mountain-stream, knot of cherry-faced peasant-girls, laughter of happy childhood to " cheer the toil and cheer the way," I may be par- doned for wishing myself out. But now came a new vehicle. I stood alone in the very heart of this mountain of limestone, gypsum, and marl, when two wild boys mounted me between them upon a wooden horse, on a rude enough wooden rail- way, and in a moment, my steeds began to show their mettle, and I was run through a passage of a mile tunnelled in the solid stone : once only the ragged colts paused to take breath, and to let me admire the 298 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. light from the mouth, which seemed nothing else than a bright blue star. Very soon genuine daylight came to our relief; and, but slightly wearied, I bounded from the cavern mouth to take the coach on its return to Salzburg. I learnt little more of the salt-trade in Austria. It is a government affair, and six thousand men are said to be employed, some in preparing the rock crystal for the market, some in boiling or evaporating the sea water, and more in connection with mines like the Durnberg. The men did not seem very healthy ; and one part of the process must often cause the sacrifice of life. At Ebensee I found them boiling down the water brought from Hallein in thirty miles of pipes ; and I learnt that whenever the iron vat leaks, a work- man is obliged to wade through the boiling liquid to the injured place upon a kind of stilts : if his feet should slip, he would certainly boil to death ; and if not of strong lungs, he is likely to stifle a horrible \te either way. For more than a week these fires are continued day and night, eating sadly into the forest, the salt being removed as fast as it is crystallized, and fresh brine poured in. Then the fire is extinguished, the pan, which is a foot deep and sixty round, tho- roughly re-tinkered, the calcareous crust which adheres to the bottom and sides broken off, and poor plates replaced by new. So much for the great Salt Mine of central Europe, a great source of wealth to its government, and a main dependence for a prime necessary of life of Southern Germany, and the countries to the eastward upon the Mediterranean Sea. Laburnum ( Cytisus). 209 THE LABUENUM TEEE. OH, golden-tressed laburnum tree ! What grace and glory dwell with thee ! The wealth of many an Eastern mine Is surely thine. When flowery-kirtled May meets June, And bees hum out their drowsy tune, Thy boughs, bedecked with honours rare, Shine everywhere. In shrubbery-belt we see thee stand, With lilacs fair on either hand, Like lovely ladies, that do wait On queenly state. In cottage garden, there art thou To glorify the mean and low, And strew thy wealth about the door Of toilers poor. Like gilded flies, thy blossoms fair Are floating on the summer air, That, perfume-laden, scarcely stirs The sombre firs. These, and the prickly holly green, A framework, and a leafy screen, Enclose thee, like protecting arms, To guard thy charms. 00 THE nOLIDAT BOOK. The guelder-rose delights to be Companion to so fair a tree, And lifts, to share thy golden glow, Its globes of snow. The ivy, and the gadding Tine, Would fain thy lithesome form entwine, And fragrant hawthorns, pink and white, Their arms unite. Fair Alpine tree ! we bless the hand That brought thee first into our land, To add a beauty and a grace To nature's face. Another smile, another sign, Of power creative love Divine, To bid us worship, and adore Yet more and more ! 301 NATURAL HISTORY. A WILD BOAR HUNT. A PARTY left Calcutta in a boat, on a December morning, for the purpose of shooting wild ducks. They proceeded down the River Hooghly, and the tide being against them during the early part of the day, their progress was slow. On the second morning, instead of striving against the current, two of the party determined to land on the low, marshy bank of the river, to beat the cover for snipes. One of the gentlemen, however, soon got tired, and returned to the boat ; and the other, while pursuing the sport, espied a green pigeon in a bush, which overhung the long, thick grass surrounding him on every side. He fired, and the bird dropped. His single attendant ran forward to bag the game, but was arrested in his progress, when within a few yards from the tree, by perceiving that he had been anticipated by a wild boar, who, having taken up a station beneath its shade, was now making a slight repast upon the dead bird. The boy turned back, in the greatest alarm, to acquaint his master with the circumstance, who, by this time, had reloaded his gun. The report which lie brought was verified by an audible grunt from the grizzly brute himself; and the former charge being replaced by a ball, the operation was scarcely com- pleted before the hog came out from among the grass and rattans in which he had been concealed, and took up a position in a narrow path, a few yards only from the place in which the gentleman and his servant 302 THE HOLIDAY BOOH. \vere standing. To see and be off was the work of a moment with the latter. The boar grunted and foamed, but did not choose to become the aggressor; so, after eyeing his new acquaintance for some minutes, he turned about to- resume his old quarters. An opportunity like this was deemed too good to be lost ; so at that moment in which the side was fully exposed, the leaden con- tents of the gun were lodged in it, and the wounded animal tumbled over on his side, the blood flowing in a copious stream from an orifice near the shoulder. Running up to the game as it lay motionless upon the ground, the sportsman began to consider how he might best convey it to the boat, in order that the cook should, without loss of time, employ his skill upon the different joints. The current of his thoughts was, however, destined to undergo a serious change. "When within five yards of each other, the supposed lifeless boar jumped on his legs, and charged furiously at his assailant. Flight, if such an alternative were contemplated, was out of the question ; for the path being narrow, and the grass and rattans on either side extremely high, an escape could not be effected in that direction. It became necessary, therefore, to engage in a personal conflict, and, seizing the gun by the barrel, the sportsman wielded it aloft in the air, and as the bleeding monster came on, dealt a blow upon the head, by which the stock was shivered, and the barrel forced out of the hand. The shock proved sufficient to stun the boar ; and now, being without any means of defence, the assailant jumped over the body of his foe, and ran for his life. He had not A "WILD BOAS HUNT. 303 proceeded more than fifty paces before he espied the boar a second time up and in search of him. In another instant he was giving chase, and, notwith- standing the quantity of blood which had oozed away, was coming along at a fearfully rapid rate. To facili- tate his flight, by lightening himself of every encum- brance, our friend threw off his coat, and strained every nerve to keep ahead. The exertion proved un- availing ; the hog gained upon him rapidly, and a few yards alone divided the pursuer from the pursued. Human strength had yielded to the efforts made in self-preservation ; the tongue, dry and fevered, clave to the roof of the mouth, and all hope of a successful issue to the adventure seemed at an end. At that moment, a small mango tree, a few paces off the path, inspired the fainting man with new hope. The hog was not more than three yards in the rear, and, making a desperate effort to reach this place of refuge, he seized a branch, and was in the act of swinging himself into the tree, when the enemy came and caught him by the trousers. The cloth fortunately gave way, and, though pulled down, the sportsman was enabled to baffle his inveterate assailant, by jump- ing round and round the tree. After practising this manoeuvre for some time a favourable moment having presented itself, he took a leap, and gained what he considered to be a safe position among the boughs. This, however, proved only a temporary asylum. No sooner did the boar comprehend the circumstance of the case, than, with truly piggish perseverance, he resolved to have his enemy down. The tree, un- luckily, happened to be a very young one, and the hog 304 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. rushing at it, employing his head as the battering engine, it went over into the gully or ditch beside it, the hog and the man at the same time rolling pell- mell amongst its branches. Happily, the former got uppermost, and seized his grizzly antagonist by the throat. The animal struggled to free himself, but the efforts were ineffectual, the weight of his enemy's body, pressing heavily on the carcass, caused the blood to flow from the gun-shot wound, rendering the dying struggles weaker and weaker. In the course of a few- minutes a slight jerking of the limbs alone indicated the determination of the conquered boar to resist to the last, and death speedily closed the scene. The exertions made by the victor had been so des- perate, that upwards of an hour elapsed, after the destruction of the animal, before he could move from the bank on which he lay panting from fatigue. It is probable that he would have remained much longer in a recumbent attitude, had not his friends, alarmed by his absence and the report of his attendant, gone out in search of him. By their assistance he was enabled to rise and return to the boat ; and, while walking to the river, in order to revive his exhausted spirits, they paraded his late formidable antagonist before him, lashed to a bamboo, aiid carried by eight coolies. 305 THE YOUNG. BY FRANCES BROWN. THE world may believe in the wisdom time teaches, And trust in its truth as the anchor of age, But weary and cold is the winter that reaches Not only the head but the heart of the sage. There are lights on the first steps of life that awaken, Oh never again on the far journey flung ; But true to the wisdom, our years have forsaken, And bright in their wrecks are the schemes of the young. As hearthlight illumes the dark eve of December," Affection may beam through the winter of years, But will not the inuser in silence remember, Some brow that still bound with his roses appears ? Alas ! that the dust and the change may pass over The step and the tone to our mem'ry that clung ; But time hath no shadow that bright track to cover, And life hath no love like the love of the young. Remains there a mine unexplored, but believed in, Where lies the lost gold of our days at the goal ; Hath friendship a glance that she ne'er was deceived in, Oh they fall from us early those stars of the soul ; Have we trusted the light, have we toiled for the treasure, Though dimness and doubt o'er the searcher's path hung; And oh could we pour to time's truth the full measure Of trust that is found in the faith of the young ! Thou dreamer of age, there were themes of proud story And song that rose on thee like stars from the sea, Old time hath no scythe for the might of their glory ; But how hath that glory departed from thee ! X 306 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. Thy soul yields no more to the spell of their splendour, The tones it sent forth when the lyre was new strung, There are echoes still there for the brave and the tender, But none such as gush from the hearts of the young. Or say have they passed from the paths of thy journey, The miss'd among thousands, the mourned for apart, From the toil, from the tumult of life dost thou turn thee At times to revisit the tombs of the heart ? Green, green, in the leaf-fall of years will they greet ihcc, If filled by the flowers in thy home shade that sprung, And bless'd are the lessons of love that will meet thee Prom memories laid up in the graves of the young. Bright spring of the spirit so soon passing from it, Thou know'st no return, and we ask thee not back ; For who that hath reached e'en the snows of the summit, Would wish to retrace all the thorns of his track ; And thorns it may be 'mid the verdure have found us ; Deep, deep have they pierced though the pang be unsung ; But oh for the dew of that day-spring around us, Once more as it falls on the paths of the young ! 307 THE STEEEOSCOPE. BY means of this instrument, now so well known as to be almost considered a philosophical toy, the theory of binocular vision, or seeing with both eyes, has been fully demonstrated. In looking at any object, each sees its own side of it ; and, if we place ourselves right jin front of the object, we see not only the full face of 'it, but also its two sides. On the retina of the right eye there is an image of the front and right side ; and on the retina of the left eye the image of the front and left side. Two impressions are thus made upon the optic nerve, and the brain becomes conscious of the presence of solidity and form. It is the eyes that see and the brain that receives impressions from this sense. In fact, the brain can of itself receive no func- tions of perception except through the medium of the outward senses. By the single action of either eye the brain would perceive the impression of only one side of an object, and the idea of solidity would be mainly dependent on the existence of light and shade, assisted by the knowledge derived from the sense of touch and that obtained from experience and associa- tion. Thus it is that blind persons can explain the form of an object ; and it is probable that, without the sense of touch, a person with only one eye, unas- sisted by experience, would have no idea of solidity, and all that he saw would appear flat to his sight, and vary only in shape, colour, and the phenomena pro- duced by light and shade called illumination. You all know that, in looking through the eye-holes of a stereoscope each eye sees a separate picture, and 308 THE HOLIDAY BOOK. yet the two pictures in the box combine to form one, which has all the appearance of a solid object. The discovery of this curious optical phenomenon has been claimed by several persons, but the practical applica- tion of the discovery and the invention of the instru- ment now so well known under the name of the len- ticular stereoscope, is due to Professors Wheatstone and Brewster. The first stereoscope consisted of a board, on either end of which there was placed a pic- ture, while midway between each there were placed two mirrors, the face of each of which was arranged at an angle of forty-five degrees with the pictures. On applying his eye to the apex of the angular mirrors the observer was enabled to see the two pictures at the same moment ; but instead of two images he saw only one, which stood out from the paper in a very distinct manner, and looked indeed like a solid object. It is a law of optics, that an object always appears to be seen in the direction of the ray of light that last reaches the eye, and thus the rays crossing each other enable the observer to see one object with both eyes, instead of a separate object with each eye. The pic- tures sold with the stereoscope consist each one of a right eye and left eye view of the same scene or object; and by looking through the sight-holes the brain is impressed with the sense of only one object, precisely as if the eyes had looked at the real object represented. 309 WHEN I WAS LITTLE. A TIME there was of tender young affection, When I hi stature scarcely reach'd an ell : Sweet tears flow over at the recollection, And therefore on these times I often dwelL Then by my loving mother I was carried ; Then strode my father's knee a horseman bold ; Ifor knew of grief, or care, or brain o'erwearied, ' More than I knew of classic lore or gold. The earth was very small then to my dreaming, And in it there was little to condemn ; Then I beheld the stars as pin-pricks gleaming, And wish'd for wings to fly away to them. I saw the moon then towards the island sailing, And thought, " Could I now to yon isle escape, Then should I know, without a chance of failing, How large, how round, how beautiful its shape!" Then saw I, marvelling, God's sun descending Towards the west, to the sea's golden bed, And yet next morning early reascending And gilding all heaven's eastern realm with red. And thought upon the gracious God the Father, Who me created and that glorious sun, And all those pearly splendours strung together, And flung from pole to pole o'er all heaven's span. 310 CONCLUSION. With sweet devotion spake my young lips ever The words which my good mother bade me pray " O thou great God, be all my life's endeavour Wise to become, and good, and to obey!" Then prayed I for my father and my mother, And for my sister, and for all the town ; For the unknown king, yet not forgot that other, The beggar, lame, who wandered up and down. CONCLUSION. "WE have now come to the end of our HOLIDAY BOOK. If any of my explanations of natural or scientific facts or history, if any of my poetry or reflections cause my young readers to go for further information to larger and more important works, the end desired by both author and publisher will have been fully answered. FAEEWELL, INDEX. PAGB Ancient Pottery . .169 Architecture . . 264 Attraction of Gravitation 5 Austiian Salt Mines . 293 Battle between Greeks and Persians . . . 119 Beauty .... 24 Bell, A . . . . 216 Bible Lesson . . 126, 187 Bread Fruit . . . 37 Cart, The . . .221 Central Forces . . . 11 Centrifugal Force . . 1 Centre of Gravity . . 7 Centripetal Force . . 1 Character of Alexander the Great . . . .213 Cheerfulness . . . 136 China Clay of Cornwall . 174 Christ the Good Shepherd 60 Christ the Physician . 15 Christ the Rock . . . 185 Chronological Epitome of the History of Archi- tecture in England . . 267 Cleanliness . . . 222 Coal and Gas . . . 277 Cohesion .... 5 Combined Levers . . 68 Courage and Humanity . 82 Cyrus the Great . 107, 122 Darius marches into India 112 Death of Cambyses . . 108 Deserter, The . . . 246 Eagle, The . . .196 MM Earthenware and Porcelain 166 Electric Telegraph, The . 272 Evening Hymn . . 195 Evening Prayer . . . 192 Extinct Species of Elephants 148 Field Teachers . . 52 Fire Damp in Mines . . 281 Fish Hawk, The . .203 Fishing Eagle, The . . 200 Gas for Illumination . 282 Gas Metre, The . . . 289 Glow-worm . . 137, 222 God Everywhere . . 224 History of Macedon . . 207 History of Persia . . 106 Horse, The ... 44 Horse and Harness . . 220 Hymn on Beauty . . 206 Inclined Plane . . . 76 Inertia . . . .12 Juvenile Lecturer . . 166 Laburnum Tree . . 299 Lark, The . . . . 59 Leonidas and his Chosen Three Hundred . .117 Lessons on the Lord's Prayer . . 18, 129, 189 Lessons on Things . 140, 216 Lever, The ... 63 Life of Alexander the Great 209 Life and Expedition of Xerxes . . . .113 Life of Philip, King of Macedon . . . . 207 Lion, The . . .146 INDEX. PAGB Living Species of Elephants 151 Machine for Illustrating the Mechanical Powers 62 Manufacture of Pottery 178 Maternal Affection . 25 Mechanics . . 62 Menai Bridge . . 144 Morning Prayer . 133 Motion ... 1 Mutiny on Board the Bounty 41 My Grandfather's Stories 46, 225 Natural History, 28, 148, 196, 301 Osprey, The . . . 202 Painting, Gilding, and Burnishing . . . 181 Pass of Thermopylae . . 116 Philip, King of Macedon . 207 Physics . . 1 Picture Lesson . . 264 Playing at Soldiers . . 225 Porcelain Manufacture . 173 Praise the Lord . . . 43 Preparation of the Clay and Flints . . '. 175 Pulley, The . . . 73 Pump, The . . . 261 Railways . . . . 101 Rainbow, The . . .139 Receive thy Sight . . 187 Reign of Artaxerxes . 121 Repulsion . ... 6 Retreat of Xerxes . .119 Ring out the Joy Bells . 292 Rope Dancing . . . 9 Safety Lamp, The . . 282 Screw, The . . . . 80 Section of a Locomotive . 102 Sham Fight, The . . 236 Siege of Babylon . .110 Skeleton of the Whale . 32 Snowdrop, The . .132 Steam-hoats . . . 99 Steam and Steam-engine . 86 Stereoscope, The . . . 307 Stories about Elephants . 162 Taming Birds . . . 229 Taming the Elephant . 159 Teachings from Nature 25, 137 Teeth of the Elephant . 154 The First Steam-boat . . 99 The Potter's Oven . . 180 The Two Friends . . 46 Transformation of the Caterpillar into the Butterfly . . . . 124 Violet, The . . .128 Votive Urns from Etruria 170 Way in which Elephants are Captured . . 156 Wedge, The . . . 78 Wedgewood, Josiah . . 171 Whale . . . . 28 Whale Fishery . . 35 Wheel and Axle . . . 68 When I was Little . . 309 Wild Boar Hunt . . 301 Xerxes' Warlike Prepara- tions . . . .113 Young, The . . . 305 CATALOGUE OOKS PUBLISHED BY JAMES BLACKWOOD AND CO. 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Series to be continued. ILLUSTRATIONS will be inserted when suitable, and every care will be taken to render the Series worthy of the support of the leading religious denominations. James Blackwood & Co., Lovell's Court, Paternoster Row, London. CHOICE READING. BOOKS SUITABLE FOE PRESENTS, ETC. Large Foolscap 8vo. Illustrated. Extra Cloth, 3s. 6d.; or Gilt Edges and Side, 4s. each. 1. Men who have Made Themselves : whence they Started ; How they Journeyed ; What they Reached. A Book for Boys. Numerous Illustrations and Portraits. This work is issued with, the view of exciting in the young a spirit of noble emulation, and a desire for true greatness. The lives of upwards of thirty men who have distinguished themselves in Science, Commerce. Literature, and Travel are told with spirit. It will be found to be the best book of the kind ever issued. 2. The Lion of War; or, the Pirates of Loo Chow. A Tale of the Chinese Seas, for Youth, by F. C. AKMSTEON&, Esq. 3. Lucy Neville and her Schoolfellows. A Book for Girls. By MAEY and ELIZABETH EJBBY. "Do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God." 4. The Discoveries of Columbus and the English in America; including Concise Narratives of the First Settlements formed by our own Countrymen in that important Continent, taken from the most authentic sources. Edited by the E.ev. H. P. DUNSTEK. Numerous Illustrations. 5s. 5. The Life and Travels of Alexander Van Humboldt; with an Account of his Discoveries, and Notices of his Scientific Fellow-labourers and Contem- poraries. James Blackwood & Co., Lovell's Court, Paternoster Row, London. CHOICE READING continued. 6. The Military Heroes of England, from the Invasion of Julius Caesar to the prfsent time. 7. The Naval Heroes of England, from the earliest period to the present time. 8. The Wanderers by Sea and Land, with other Tales. By PETEE FABLE*. Fcap 8vo., nume- rous Illustrations. 9. The Conquest of Mexico and Peru by Fernandes Cortes and Francis Pizzaro. 10. Flowers, Grasses, and Shrubs. A Popular Book on Botany. By MABY PIBIB. Nume- rous Illustrations. 11. Illustrious Men : their Noble Deeds, Discoveries, and Attainments. Illustrated. 12. Illustr ; ous Women who have distin- guished themselves for Virtue, Piety, and Benevolence. Illustrations. 13. Mercantile Morals. A Book for Young Men entering upon the Duties of Active Life. 14. The Remarkable Scenes of the Bible; or, The Places Distinguished by Memorable Events re- corded in Scripture. By the Rev. Dr. HUGHES, Rector of St. John's, London. Cloth Extra, numerous Illus- trations. 15. Lectures on the Parables of our Sa- viour. By Rev. Dr. ZIEK. "With Preface by Pro- fessor McCsiK. Cloth. 16. The Religion of Geology and its Con- nected Sciences. By EDWABD HITCHCOCK, D.D., LL.D. "With Corrections and an additional Lecture giving a summary of the Author's present views of the whole subject, and a copious Index. Extra Cloth. (Cheap Edition, Paper Boards, 2s.) James Blackwood & Co., LovelFs Court, Paternoster Row, London. CHOICE READING continued. 17. Dogs : their Sagacity, Instinct, and Uses, with Descriptions of their several varieties. By GEORGE FREDERICK PARDON. Illustrated by HAR- RISON WEIR. 18. The Boy's Holiday Boole, being short Read- ings in History, Georrrnphy, Natural History, Theology, Physics, etc., etc. By WILLIAM MARTIN. Numerous Illustrations. 19. The Young Student's Holiday Boole, being Lessons on Architecture, Mechanics, Natural History, Physics, Manufacture of Pottery, etc., etc. By WILLIAM MARTIN. Numerous Illustrations. 20. Curiosities of Physical Geography; com- prising Avalanches, Iceberps, Trade Winds, Earth- quakes, Volcanoes, etc. Also reflections ou the con- nection between the physical condition of a country find the mpntal development of its inhabitants. By WiL- LIAM WITTICII. Illustrated. 21. The Life and Adventures of Dr. Living- stone in the interior of South Africa; comprising a description of the regions which he traversed, an ac- count of Missionary Pioneers, and Chapters ou Cotton Cultivation, Slavery, Wild Animals, etc., etc. By H. G. ADAMS. Numerous Illustrations. 22. The Earth; its physical condition and most remarkable phenomena. By W. M. HIGGINS. Numerous Illustrations. 23. Half-Hourswith our Sacred Poets. Edited, with Biographical Sketches, by ALEXANDER GRANT, M.A. Illustrations. James Blackwood & Co., Lovell's Court, Paternoster Row, London. CHOICE READING continued. 24. Popular Natural History and Character- is; ics of Animals, with Illustrative Anecdotes. By Captain THOMAS BROWN, P.L.S., M.W.K. and P.S., etc. Numerous Woodcuts. 25. Habits and Characteristics of Animals and Birds, with Illustrative Anpn