from the ordinary law by which Creative Wisdom seems to have been actuated in the formation of the insect, and, indeed, I may say of the whole animal world. That law is, that, while the living creature finds subsistence for itself in the vegetable kingdom, it should tend to preserve the balance among its various productions, by the destruction, or at least injury, of the plant on which it feeds. Here, however, the very reverse is the case; and a similar remark may be made with regard to the various grasses, which form the food of herbivorous quadrupeds. The grazing of these animals, though it destroys the seed-stalk, causes the plant to tiller, and thus compensates for the loss sustained in the power of propagation, by forming on the spot a firm, sweet, and luxuriant sward of herbage.

That the very same law, which keeps in check other vegetable substances, should be made subservient to the increase of those which are of essential importance to the subsistence of the higher species of animals, is a benevolent intention, which cannot be mistaken, and which it is impossible to perceive, without admiration.

ELEVENTH WEEK-SUNDAY.

SABBATH MORNING.

THERE is no season more welcome to the Christian, than the dawning of the day of rest; none that is ushered in with more reviving associations.

The sun, drawing up the soft vapors of morning, seems to shine with a more cheering light on the day that saw the rising of the Sun of Righteousness. The moist green turf, spread as a carpet over hill and dale, catches the bright reflection, and returns a grateful smile; while the clustering wild-flowers that spring from its shelter, show forth the beneficence that did not scorn to fashion their

short-lived beauty. The breezy air seems to breathe the messages of gentleness and mercy from forgiving Heaven; and the earth, once smitten with a curse for the sin of man, seems to partake in the reconciliation that was completed on the Saviour's resurrection morn. The fields and the woods send up their sweetest incense, and the trees rustle, and the waters murmur, praise. Spring, the season of Nature's hope, brings not so bright a day as this, the time of peculiar and more enduring hope to the Christian. As his eye rests on each feature of the scene, his heart becomes filled with its serenity, and he exults in the service of so gracious a Master. If he sees love in the coloring of the landscape, and the arching of the sky, how unspeakably greater does that appear which rescued him from destruction, and adorned his soul with the spotless robe of righteousness. Of the same love, the institution of the sacred day is a rich token. Like the gourd that sprung up to shelter Jonah from the scorching heat, the services of the sanctuary have been prepared for the refreshment of the heavenbound pilgrim; but not, like it, to perish in a night: For, ever, as the first day of the week returns, are these solemnities renewed, and their hallowed influence is felt to extend over each intervening day. The prospect of a day spent in the courts of God, sheds a tranquil joy through the soul, and calls forth the fervent exclamation, "How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts!" And what the heart desires, it seeks with earnestness from Him whose presence alone makes glorious the places of His rest on earth.

And shall the morning contemplation cease here? Shall the Christian, absorbed in his own joyful prospects, forget the multitudes to whom the Sabbath brings no joy? Never does their wretched state come with more energy to his mind, than in that hour of thankful peace. He mourns for the many who live like him under the shadow of the Cross, but cling not to it ;-the many who are led to the streams of Gospel privilege, but will not drink, and live. To them the Sabbath is a weariness ; they go up to the

ry with indifference, and leave

it without profit. Years are rolling on, and soon their places will be vacant; and soon again they will be filled by another generation. And where will be those who have despised the offers of pardon, and refused to hearken to the reiterated calls of mercy? As the Christian muses on these things, he is stimulated to arise and be doing, while yet it is his privilege to sojourn where a work so vast and so important lies before him. Is it a time to rest in his own happiness, or to seek his own honor, when souls are perishing? It would be greater joy to him to win one rebel back to his allegiance, than to attract the admiring gaze of nations, or to be crowned with the freshest laurels that ever bound the brows of a Cæsar.

Those, too, he remembers, more ignorant, but less guilty than the former, who dwell far off on the islands of the sea, or in regions of unexplored darkness, in the burning deserts of Africa, or among the tangled forests of the West. On them the morning sun may arise in his glory, but it is only to light them onward in a course of sin. Spring may spread her most luxuriant wreaths around their rude dwellings, but the desolation of unbroken winter broods on their immortal souls. The trees of the forest, or the caverns that shelter the beasts of the earth, furnish them with nutritious food: it was provided by no skill of theirs; but they know not the Hand that maintains the ready supply, they see not the traces of Him whose paths drop fatness. In their ignorance, they give thanks to dumb idols, and in their deep groves, or by their silvery streams, to them present their offerings but these cannot hear their cry in the hour of their anguish, or illumine for them the gloom of a dark, unknown eternity. The Sabbath passes and returns, but brings no rest to them. There is no early bell to call them to the house of prayer, no faithful shepherd to collect the flock, the beautiful flock, who are scattered through the wilderness, an easy prey to the "devouring lion." It is the hour of his exultation, and he deems the empire all his own; ages have mingled with eternity, and yet, mysterious dispensation! his terrible sway has not been broken down. But the day approaches; for

these benighted ones are precious in the sight of Him who feeds the ravens when they cry, and He will come in his might, to make the crooked places straight before them.

The Christian has been furnished with a powerful engine to accelerate that day; and he whose bosom glows with heavenly zeal, will never cease to use it. He will offer many prayers on the altar of the covenant, and, in due time, all shall receive an answer, even tenfold more than was sought. Taught, by a Saviour's love, to pity the perishing, he will, as He did, entreat the Father for them, and strive to excite in others a corresponding fervor, that all, uniting under the banner of the Cross, may spread the glad tidings of salvation over the length and breadth of a ransomed, but still enfettered, world.

True religion is not selfish; it expands the heart to love, and nerves the frame to action; and the Christian goes forth from the hour of Sabbath meditation, humbled under a sense of undeserved mercies; and, while he clings to them more closely than ever, resolves, in the Divine strength, to spare neither time nor exertion to diffuse them among his famishing brethren, that the sons of Adam, in every land, may rejoice at the coming of the day of rest, and may attain to the animating, the imperishable hope of "rest from their labors," in "the city that has no need of the sun nor of the moon to enlighten it." M. L. D.

ELEVENTH WEEK-MONDAY.

THE CORN-PLANTS.-BARLEY.

BARLEY is, next to wheat, the most important, in a general point of view, of all the cereal grains which are cultivated in temperate climates, though, as far as relates to England and this

as a luxury than a

it may be considered rather of life, being chiefly used

for the purpose of producing fermented liquors. It is, in one respect, indeed, more useful than wheat. It may be propagated over a wider range of climate, bearing heat and drought more patiently, growing on lighter soils, and coming so quickly to maturity that the short northern summers, which do not admit of the ripening of wheat, are yet of long enough duration for the perfection of this plant. It is the latest sown, and the earliest reaped, of all the summer grains. In warm countries, such as Spain, the farmers can gather two harvests of barley within the year, one in the spring, from winter-sown grain, and the other in autumn, from that sown in summer.

Barley, sown in June, is commonly ready for the sickle in three months after the seed has been committed to the ground; and, in very northern climates, the period necessary for its growth, as we remarked in a former paper, is of still shorter duration. Linnæus relates, in his tour in Lulean Lapland, that, on the 28th July, he observed the commencement of the barley harvest, and, although the seed had been sown only a few days before midsummer, that the grain was perfectly ripe, the whole process having thus occupied certainly not longer than six weeks.

The property of requiring little moisture, as well as of rapid growth, admirably fits barley for propagation in those northern countries, where the duration of summer is limited to a very few months in the year, and where wet is of very rare occurrence, from the time when the spring rains are over, at the end of May, or beginning of June, until the autumnal equinox, previous to which the harvest is reaped.

So hurtful is excessive moisture to the barley plants, that even heavy dews, if of frequent occurrence, are said to be injurious. Much wet is detrimental at all periods; but the mischief is exhibited in a very different manner, according as it occurs before or after the formation of the ear. If it happen during the former stage, the leaves will become yellow and sickly, and the ears will perhaps not make their appearance; whereas, if the ears have already been formed and completely filled, the grain,