formance of their laborious task. It was much to be regretted that the eager curiosity of so many persons to see the architecture of these indefatigable birds, and the circumstance of the nest having been roughly handled by some incautious visitor, occasioned the architects to abandon their labours, and to seek for some more secure retreat, in which they could hatch their eggs, and bring up their young.

The above circumstantial account, of what I cannot but consider a curious fact in Natural History, appears to me to prove the possession by these birds of a faculty of the same kind, as that which in its higher degree we call Reason. Before this opinion is condemned, the instinctive habits of these birds should be duly considered. Their most usual places for building their nests are holes in trees, in the towers of churches or old buildings, and amongst high cliffs. They have also been known, in districts where trees are scarce, to build under ground in rabbit burrows. Now, with these habits, which are their natural and instinctive ones, the deviation from them, as in the present instance, shows a faculty of forethought, reflection, plan and contrivance, which could not have been derived from mere instinct. If this is admitted, the possession of reasoning faculties must be allowed.

(From "Scenes and Occupations of Country Life."
By permission of John Murray, Esq.)

A NIGHT SCENE.

JULY, 1830.

THE REV. HENRY ALFORD, D.D., DEAN OF CANTERBURY.

We looked into the silent sky,

We gazed upon thee, lovely Moon;
And thou wert shining clear and bright
In night's unclouded noon.

And it was sweet to stand and think,
Amidst the deep tranquillity,
How many eyes at that still hour
Were looking upon thee.

The exile on the foreign shore

Hath stood and turned his eye on thee; And he hath thought upon his days

Of hope and infancy;

And he hath said, there may be those
Gazing upon thy beauty now,
Who stamped the last, the burning kiss
Upon his parting brow.

The captive in his grated cell

Hath cast him in thy peering light; And looked on thee and almost blest The solitary night.

The infant slumbereth in his cot,
And on him is thy liquid beam;
And shapes of soft and faëry light
Have mingled in his dream.

The sick upon the sleepless bed
Scared by the dream of wild unrest,
The fond and mute companionship
Of thy sweet ray hath blest.

The mourner in thy silver beam
Hath laid his sad and wasted form,
And felt that there is quiet there
To calm his inward storm.

(By permission of the Author.)

34

THE FAIRY GIRDLE.

A TALE FOR BOYS.

ONE day, as two brothers were playing together in a garden, a beautiful little bright thing flew past them. It was not a butterfly; they could not tell what it was; so they both ran after it to see. The little thing flew and flew, till it came to a nice shady part of the garden, and there it alighted on the ground; and then they saw that it was the prettiest tiny carriage that can be imagined, not bigger than a walnut-shell, drawn by two dragon-flies, in their shining blue coats. And in this carriage sat one so small, that you would want a magnifying glass to see what she was, or what she had on. As the boys were looking, full of wonder, this mite of a personage rose from her seat, and, to their still greater astonishment, did not cease rising till she stood before them quite a tall lady. "Boys," she said, "you are both good upon the whole, or I should not have come here to try and make you better; but you have each one especial fault, very much alike, and yet very different, which you must endeavour to conquer. William continually indulges in thoughts of mischief, which, it carried into effect, would make him disliked and dreaded by every one; and Edward is too much in the habit of letting good thoughts, which should produce good deeds, die away unimproved. That you, William, may see the evil you cherish, and you, Edward, the good you lose, I will lend each, for one day, an invisible girdle, which, while worn, has the effect of making thoughts show themselves to the party in whose heart they rise in words and actions." When she had said this, the lady gradually sank down again into her little carriage, and caught up the gossamer thread which formed her rein. The dragon-flies spread their glistening wings, and all were out of sight in a moment.

The first thing the boys saw when they awoke the

next morning were two girdles, which, as soon as they had put them on, they could neither see nor feel; but they found themselves immediately talking all sorts of nonsense about the most unlikely things. One was speaking of a holiday which, owing to something that he had done, was to be given at the school; and he was making speeches of thanks to himself for the boys, and planning their play, himself at the head of all: and the other was taking the top place in the highest form, and the master was praising his industry and ability. Both were heartily ashamed of the vanity and selfishness which had seemed nothing in thought, but which, when put into words, were so absurd, that they felt how they would be laughed at if anybody else could hear them. I do not mean that they talked of nothing else; they had to think over their lessons, and a problem which had puzzled Edward very much the day before, and a doll's chair which William was contriving for his little sister, furnished useful and innocent thoughts for both. But mingling with these, constantly interrupting and running off from them in every direction, were those other silly fancies. But though there was this sameness in their general turn of thought, that self was too much the hero; there was still the difference in character the fairy had pointed out, and this was most discerned in the thoughts excited by any outward occurrence.

As they were going to school, they met a young man mounted on a fine horse. He looked rather conceited, and was teasing his horse, as very young men—and some old enough to know better-are apt to do, to make him appear spirited. "I should like just to give you a downfall," thought William, who, as is the case with most who have a very sufficient opinion of themselves, was wonderfully acute in perceiving any symptoms of vanity in others. No sooner was the thought formed, than he was flourishing his hat in the face of the startled animal, which reared, plunged, and, to his unspeakable horror, threw its rider. None can tell

William's thankfulness when he found it was but a thought, and when the young man he had imagined lying senseless on the road cantered briskly past, and was soon out of sight. You may think a fright like this was enough to keep anybody from mischievous thoughts at least for one day; but bad habits are not easily cured, and he could not even get to school without one or two more exploits, which, however he might indulge in fancying, he would have been very sorry to find real.

In school he did not act amiss for some time, although he was continually saying what he would not have had others hear for the world. The conceited speeches he made when he did anything well, the praise of his own theme, and his complaints, and fault-finding, and inpertinence when another was put before him, made his cheek burn for very shame. At last it happened that one of the masters said something which did not please him; "I feel very much inclined to send this inkstand at your head," thought William. No sooner thought than up went the inkstand, and bang, full at the master. He saw it strike his head, and then rebound upon the desk, scattering the ink in all directions, blotting books, exercises, &c. He caught the thunderstruck look of the boys as every face was turned to him, and "William, you are not well," said the master, in a kind voice, for he had noticed his change of countenance once or twice before; "better shut up your book, and take a turn in the playground."

"Thank you, sir," said William, recovering himself, his conscience smiting him sadly; "I feel better-I am quite well now." And he set to work with double diligence, resolving manfully that he never would, if possible, think such a thought again.

Edward, meanwhile, had been receiving his lesson. Many of his thoughts were, as I have told you, very like his brother's, and he was as heartily ashamed of them; but the day did not pass without something to call forth what the fairy had especially named to him. In going