ably larger and less reguiar in form than the azure dots. Two of them, for instance, were oblong, and extended from the ear-like tentacula down to the eyes, which were placed on the back of the neck, as if to keep watch against the enemies from behind, while it was busy feeding on the rich pasture afforded by the green Codium.

The membrane that acts as fins is of the same colour and substance as the body. When the fins are raised and meet above, they give it the appearance of being gibbous on the back. More generally, however, they are a little apart from each other, and in swimming they extend horizontally from the body, and show, at the base of the neck, betwixt the upper part of the fins, a whitish protuberance. At the base of each fin, and pretty close to the back, there could be seen, when the light was favourable, all along the inside, a line like the mid-rib of a leaf; and from this double mid-rib there proceeded, at intervals, veins in a slanting direction to the upper margin of each fin; so that when the two fins were expanded, it was like a green-veined leaf. To this appearance it may at times owe its safety, by deceiving the eye of prowlers.

The description of the mouth given in the quotation suited my specimens, except that in them the margin of the upper lip was black. The lower lip and part of the throat were quite white, and were the only parts that had none of the azure dots. Could I transfer to the printed page a coloured drawing of it by my daughter Margaret, a single glance would give a better idea of it than all my words; though still we would be constrained to say: "Who can paint like Nature?"

This brief quotation from the poet of the seasons suggests to us an answer to those who may be ready to say: "What trifling! Why such a fuss about a painted sea-slug?" If God painted it, should not we admire it, and adore Him by whom it was arrayed in so much beauty? He made all things for his own glory; and if this tiny mollusk, like a floating emerald, has not before attracted the gaze of any eye in Scotland, this is a reason why we should admire it the more when seen, and give glory to Him who deigned

to adorn it. Millions of them may have lived and died unnoticed by man; but as they enjoyed all the happiness of which they were susceptible, they were not created in vain. But they answer a nobler purpose, if they lead up the thoughts of even one human being to nature's wonder-working God, bringing some small tribute of glory to the benignant Creator, and exciting thoughts which may be remembered with pleasure, when the sea and all that is in it have passed away!

God's creatures are not to be despised because they may be small; for by the least of his creatures he can accomplish great and wonderful works. How small are the coral polypes! and yet, under the teaching of God, they can plant the sea with islands, and build reefy walls which ocean's proudest waves cannot demolish! Feeble are the sea-fowls that build their yearly nests on the rocky islands of the distant main; but these feathered tribes are like living clouds or winged legions. Their droppings cover the rocks. Myriads after myriads live and die; and their

489

dead bodies mix with the mass. The work of accumulation for ages goes on. At last it has been discovered that this ornithological deposit of filth and corruption has become a perfect store-house of wealth and fertility. Thousands of our hardy seamen have got employment in transferring it from the ends of the earth; and now it is giving increased productiveness to our soil, a fresher verdure to our fields, and a richer tinge to the golden wavings of our harvests.

If man attend to great operations, he is apt to be engrossed thereby, and to neglect what is small. God neglects nothing. He who made and feeds behemoth and leviathan also made and feeds this little marine beauty which we have feebly helped to describe. He who streaks the dawn with purple light—who gives the orient tints of the morning to the eastern sky, and its glorious iridescence to the covenant-bow in the clouds, deigns also to paint the sparkling dew-drop-to give its crimson blush to the fragrant rose, and to clothe in green, and azure, and gold, this delicate little denizen of the deep; and if He so clothe the green Actaon, which to-day is, and eretomorrow may pass away for ever, child of immortality, will He forget thee? If thou look to Him with faith in his Son, He will remember thee with that love which he beareth to his own-he will give thee food to eat and raiment to put on-he will seal thee with the Holy Spirit of promise-he will clothe thee with the robe of righteousness, the garment of salvation; and bringing thee at last to Immanuel's land, He will put a new song into thy mouth, and joy unspeakable and eternal into thy heart, and will bless thee with that rest that remaineth for the people of God!*

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

A WRITER in a foreign journal gives the following interesting reminiscence of our Christian poet :

"In the summer of 1838 I was on a fly-fishing excursion in the neighbourhood of Olney, and hearing from the postman, who brought letters to our party poet Montgomery was there, myself and a friend, from the post-office to our country quarters, that the who had never seen him, took a walk to Olney the next day, to call on him. We inquired for Mr Montabout; and, as a last resource, we went to the postgomery, but no one seemed to be aware of his whereoffice, where we were informed that he would most place we proceeded. It was a dwelling which Cowper likely be found at Squire Cowper's School. To this

had once tenanted, and ever since it had been used as a village school, and called by his name. There who were singing that beautiful hymn of the bard of we found Montgomery, surrounded by the children, Olney, commencing with—

'God moves in a mysterious way,

His wonders to perform.'

I had heard it sung hundreds of times, but never with such effect as in that room-the very place in

Natural History," an excellent and truly scientific paper on

Since I wrote the above, I have seen, in the "Annals of

the anatomy of the green Acteon, by George J. Allinau, Professor of Botany in Trinity College, Dublin.

"Montgomery received us very kindly, and we visited together some of Cowper's favourite spots. It was highly gratifying to repair to such hallowed retreats, in the company of one who has been not unaptly called the Cowper of our time. On leaving, Montgomery kindly invited me to call on him, should I ever visit Sheffield; which I gladly promised to do. "About two years afterwards I was in that busy mart, and remembering the poet's invitation, I determined to avail myself of it. I had no difficulty in finding my way to The Mount, the name of his residence, and was fortunate enough to find him at home. We had a pleasant walk together, and after dinner he accompanied me to the literary institutions of the neighbourhood; and it was quite delightful to observe with what marked attention and respect he was everywhere received. I noticed this to him, and said he must feel highly gratified by it. "I am, of course," he replied; "but I have enemies. Not long since some rascals broke into my house, one Sabbath, while I was delivering an address at a chapel in Sheffield (Mr Montgomery sometimes preaches among his own people-the Moravians), and stole, among other things, a silver inkstand which had been given me by the ladies of Sheffield. However," he added, "the loss was but for a time, and proved to be the occasion of the greatest compliment which, in my opinion, I ever had paid me. A few days after my loss, a box came directed to me, and, on opening it, lo! there was, uninjured, the missing inkstand and a note, in which the writer expressed his regret that he had entered my house and abstracted it. The thief said his mother had taught him some of my verses when he was a boy, and, on seeing my name on the inkstand, he first became aware whose house he had robbed, and was so stung with remorse, that he could not rest until he had restored my property, hoping God would forgive him."

LEGH RICHMOND.

AN INCIDENT.

(From the Boston Atlas.)

As I was one evening proceeding tow. ds a church in my native city, for the purpose of hearing the Rev. Legh Richmond preach an anniversary sermon, a gentleman accosted me, and inquired the way to the Temple Church. I told him I was going thither, and would be pleased to show him. He was upwards of fifty years of age, with a remarkably pleasant countenance, and wore spectacles. He was lame, owing to a contraction of the knee-joint, and so he took my arm, which, with a boyish freedom, I offered

him.

When we arrived at the church door, crowds were my new acquaintance; "I dare say you will see me pouring in. "I must go to the vestry," remarked again;" and we parted.

The service had been read by the regular clergyman of the place, and the psalm before the sermon was being sung, when the preacher of the evening slowly, and with some apparent difficulty, ascended the pulpit stairs. He bowed his greyish head for a moment on the cushion, and then looked on the congregation. It was the gentleman with whom I had walked to church-the author of that touching beautiful narrative, which I cannot even now read without tears" The Dairyman's Daughter.”— LEGH RICHMOND WAS BEFORE ME!

HUMILITY.

THE bird that soars on highest wing
Builds on the ground her lowly nest,
And she that doth most sweetly sing,
Sings in the shade when all things rest-
In lark and nightingale we see
What honour hath humility.

The saint that wears heaven's brightest crown,
In deepest adoration bends-

The weight of glory bows him down
The most when most his soul ascends:
Nearest the throne itself must be
The footstool of humility.

MONTGOMERY,

TRIUMPH OF FAITH.

WHEN the hand of the Lord is gone out against us, and he greatly multiplies our sorrows; when he breaks us with breach upon breach, and runs upon us like a giant; when his arrows stick fast in us, and his hand presseth us sore; when he sews sackcloth on our skin, and defiles our horn in the dust; when we are fain to eat ashes like bread, and to mingle our drink with weeping;-now, now is a time for a saint's trust to bestir itself to purpose. In this storm and tempest, wherein the waves mount up to heaven, ard go down again to the depths, faith sits at the beha, and preserves the soul from shipwreck. Faith takes this serpent by the tail, handles it, and turns it into an harmless wand, yea, into an Aaron's rod, budding with glory and immortality. Faith encounters this seeming Goliath of affliction, grapples with it, not as a match, but as a vanquished underling. Let misery dress herself like the cruellest fury, come forth guarded with all her dismal attendants-sighs, groans, tears, wants, woes-faith sets its foot on the neck of this queen of fears-exults and triumphs over her. When the heart and flesh are apt to fail, when soul and spirit are apt to sink and swoon away, faith draws forth its bottle, and administers a reviving cordial. In a word, in a sea, an ocean, a deluge of trouble, amidst all storms, winds, tempests, yea, an hurricane of sorrows and miseries, faith knows where and how to cast anchor. According to that word of our Saviour: "Let not your heart be troubled,” so troubled as a ship tossed in a tempest: "ye believe in God, believe also in me."-Johm xiv. 1. Faith is that great antidote-" healer of all diseases." This is that that makes a believer live in the midst of death.-Lye.

EARLY IMPRESSIONS.

You can hardly be aware how deep may be the impression which you may make on the mind of your child, even in a few moments of time. For one, I can truly say, I have never met with any loss so great as that of losing the care and instructions of my mother during my childhood, in consequence of her having lost her reason. But I can recollect that when a very little child, I was standing at the open window, at the close of a lovely summer's day. The large, red sun was just sinking away behind the western hills; the sky was gold and purple commingled; the winds were sleeping, and a soft, solemn stillness seemed to hang over the earth. I was watching the sun as he sent his yellow rays through the trees, and felt a kind of awe, though I knew not wherefore. Just then my mother came to me. She was raving with frenzy; for reason had long since left its throne-and her, a victim of madness. She came up to me, wild with insanity. I pointed to the glorious sun in the west, and in a moment she was calm! She took my little hands within hers, and told me that "the great God made the sun, the stars, the world-everything; that he it was that made her little boy, and gave him an immortal spirit; that yonder sun, and the green fields, and the world itself, will one day be burned up, but that the spirit of her child will then be alive, for he must live when heaven and earth are gone; that he must pray to the great God, and love and serve him for ever!"

She let go my hand-madness returned-she hurried away. I stood with my eyes filled with tears, and my little bosom heaving with emotions which I could not have described; but I can never forget the impressions which that conversation of my poor mother left upon me! Oh! what a blessing would it have been, had the inscrutable providence of God given me a mother who could have repeated these instructions, accompanied by her prayers, through all the days of my childhood! But, "even so, Father; for so it seemeth good in thy sight!"—Todd.

LUTHER'S COMPLAINT OF ABSENCE OF MIND IN PRAYER.

491

friend was astonished, and gave it as his opinion that he could fix his thoughts on his prayer without any difficulty. Bernard offered him the wager of a fine horse, on condition he should commence forthwith. The friend commenced-" Our Father," &c.; but before he had finished the first petition, it occurred to him, if he should gain the horse, whether he would also receive saddle and bridle. In short, he was so entangled in his own thoughts, that he had to quit, and give up the prize. This I state, in order to show how necessary it is to keep guard over our hearts, that they may not become distracted, but may cleave to the letter as a guide. On the other side, beware also against the danger of falling into for mality, but let the heart commence; then lips, words, and external position will naturally follow.

Fragments.

EVILS in the journey of life are like the hills which alarm travellers upon the road; they both appear great at a distance, but when we approach them we find they are far less insurmountable than we had conceived. Adam.

HAPPINESS DEPENDS ON OURSELVES.-It is in vain that a man has all the means for happiness without, if he has not the capacity for happiness within, himself.

THE HUMAN HEART.-" But while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat, and went his way."-Matt. xiii. 25. They required none of his attendance; the human heart being a soil too well disposed by nature to bring that evil to maturity which is once cast into it.-Jones.

THE earth would be still a paradise if we had the art of enjoying it, and did not turn it into a curse to ourselves by our sins and passions.—Adam.

THERE is a striking image employed by one of the old divines, to illustrate the obduracy and insensibility of the human heart. He compares a man in this condition to the blacksmith's dog, who, although lying at the foot of the anvil, is either not moved at all by the sparks which are continually falling about him, or only disturbed for an instant; while he returns again and again to his old position, and sleeps

as sound as ever.

DR F, the ordinary of Newgate, told the writer, that when a reprieve arrived for one under sentence of death, he returned a Bible and Prayer Book, which the Doctor had given him, with his thanks, observing that he had no further use for them now! So much is it beyond the power of unassisted nature to attend any longer to the requisitions of God than while the terrors of the law and the dread of wrath are impending; and so little is this state of feeling worth if that be all.

IF earth, that is provided for mortality, and is possessed by the Maker's enemies, have so much plea sure in it that worldlings think it worth the account of their heaven-such a sun to enlighten it, such a heaven to wall it about, such sweet fruits and flowers modious use of it-what must heaven needs be, that to adorn it, such variety of creatures for the comis provided for God himself and his friends? How can it be less in worth? Sure, God is above his creatures, and God's friends better than his enemies. I will not only be content, but desirous to be dissolved.

No man is transplanted into the paradise of glory but out of the nursery of grace.

THE broad seal of our sanctification must witness the privy seal of our adoption.-Burkitt.