low, who was standing in the middle of the room, picked up a slipper, and shied it | at the kneeling boy, calling him a sniveling young shaver. Then Tom saw the whole, and the next moment the boot he had just pulled off flew straight at the head of the bully, who had just time to throw up his arm and catch it on his elbow. "Confound you, Brown; what's that for?" roared he, stamping with pain. "Never mind what I mean," said Tom, stepping on the floor, every drop of blood in his body tingling; "if any fellow wants the other boot, he knows how to get it." What would have been the result is doubtful, for at this moment the sixthform boy came in, and not another word could be said. Tom and the rest rushed into bed, and finished unrobing there, and the old verger, as punctual as the clock, had put out the candle in another minute, and toddled on to the next room, shutting the door with his usual "Good-night, genl'm'n." There were many boys in the room by whom that little scene was taken to heart before they slept. But sleep seemed to have deserted the pillow of poor Tom. For some time his excitement, and the flood of memories which chased one another through his brain, kept him from thinking or resolving. His head throbbed, his heart leaped, and he could hardly keep himself from springing out of bed and rushing about the room. Then the thought of his own mother came across him, and the promise he had made at her knee, years ago, never to forget to kneel by his bedside, and give himself up to his Father, before he laid his head on the pillow, from which it might never rise; and he lay down gently, and cried as if his heart would break. He was only fourteen years old. | think that he might just as well say his prayers in bed, and then that it didn't matter whether he was kneeling, or sitting, or lying down. And so it had come to pass with Tom, as with all who will not confess their Lord before men; and for the last year he had probably not said his prayers in earnest a dozen times. Poor Tom! the first and bitterest feeling, which was like to break his heart, was the sense of his own cowardice. The vice of all others which he loathed was brought in and burned in on his own soul. He had lied to his mother, to his conscience, to his God. How could he bear it? And then the poor little weak boy, whom he had pitied and almost scorned for his weakness, had done that which he, braggart as he was, dared not do. The first dawn of comfort came to him in saying to himself that he would stand by that boy through thick and thin, and cheer him, and help him, and bear his burdens, for the good deed done that night. Then he resolved to write home next day and tell his mother all, and what a coward her son had been. And then peace came to him as he resolved, lastly, to bear his testimony next morning. The morning would be harder than the night to begin with, but he felt that he could not afford to let one chance slip. Several times he faltered, for the devil showed him, first, all his friends calling him “Saint” and “Square-toes," and a dozen hard names, and whispered to him that his motives would be misunderstood, and he would only be left alone with the new boy; whereas it was his duty to keep all means of influence, that he might do good to the largest number. And then came the more subtle temptation, “Shall I not be showing myself braver than others by doing this? Have I any right to begin it now? Ought I not rather to pray in my own study, letting other boys know that I do so, and trying to lead them to it, while in public at least I should go on as I have done?" However, his good angel was too strong that night, and he turned on his side and slept, tired of trying to reason, but resolved to follow the impulse which had been so strong, and in which he had found peace. It was no light act of courage in those days for a little fellow to say his prayers publicly, even at Rugby. A few years later, when Arnold's manly piety had begun to leaven the school, the tables turned; before he died, in the school-house at least, and I believe in the other houses, the rule was the other way. But poor Tom had come to school in other times. The first few nights after he came, he did not kneel down because of the noise, but sat up in Next morning he was up and washed bed till the candle was out, and then stole and dressed, all but his jacket and waistout and said his prayers, in fear lest some coat, just as the ten minutes' bell began one should find him out. So did many to ring, and then in the face of the whole another poor fellow. Then he began to room he knelt down to pray. Not five words could he say-the bell mocked him; he was listening for every whisper in the room-what were they all thinking of him? He was ashamed to go on kneeling, ashamed to rise from his knees. At last, as it were from his inmost heart, a still small voice seemed to breathe forth the words of the publican, “God be merciful to me a sinner!" He repeated them over and over, clinging to them as for his life, and rose from his knees comforted and humbled, and ready to face the whole world. It was not needed: two other boys besides Arthur had already followed his example, and he went down to the great school with a glimmering of another lesson in his heart-the lesson that he who has conquered his own coward spirit has conquered the whole outward world; and that other one which the old prophet learned in the cave, in Mount Horeb, when he hid his face, and the still small voice asked, "What doest thou here, Elijah?" that, however we may fancy ourselves alone on the side of good, the King and Lord of men is nowhere without his witnesses; for in every society, however seemingly corrupt and godless, there are those who have not bowed the knee to Baal. He found, too, how greatly he had exaggerated the effect to be produced by his act. For a few nights there was a sneer or a laugh when he knelt down; but this passed off soon, and one by one all the other boys but three or four followed the lead. I fear that this was in some measure owing to the fact, that Tom could probably have thrashed any boy in the room except the præpostor; at any rate, everybody knew that he would try upon very slight provocation, and didn't choose to run the risk of a hard fight because Tom Brown had taken a fancy to say his prayers. Some of the small boys of Number 4 communicated the new state of things to their chums, and in several other rooms the poor little fellows tried it on; in one instance or so, where the præpostor heard of it and interfered very decidedly, with partial success; but in the rest, after a short struggle, the confessors were bullied or laughed down, and the old state of things went on for some time longer. Before either Tom Brown or Arthur left the school, there was no room in which it had not become the regular custom. I trust it is so still, and that the old heathen state of things has gone out forever. A CHAPTER ON NATURAL HISTORY. A THE HEDGEHOG. MONG the ancient Egyptians, and in the Greek and Roman fabulists, the Hedgehog was the emblem of craft and subtlety. Elian has much to tell us about his warfare with the foxes, and Aldrorandus devotes many pages to the proverbs and symbolism connected with him. In the rural districts of our own country he is the subject of many curious superstitions, which cause him to be remorselessly killed wherever he shows himself. His old English name, urchin, was also one of the popular names of the elves, many of whose attributes were believed to resemble his. The fairies sucked cows as they slept, and so did the hedgehog, and, like them also, he took especial delight in pillaging orchards. Pliny, indeed, informs us that he climbs up the trees, and after shaking off the choicest apples and pears, tumbles himself down upon them, and runs away with his booty sticking upon his back! but this is either one of Pliny's longshots, or the idiosyncrasy of some individual Tuscan, for at any rate it is not the custom of the English species. To hear his cry when one is starting on a journey, is reckoned very unlucky. "The hedgepig thrice hath whined" is one of the dismal omens which herald in the caldron-scene in Macbeth; and Prospero's spirits, it will be remembered, turned into hedgehogs to annoy Caliban. A little animal possessing such very negative means of defense would seem to be harmless and pitiable; but, according to our rustics, he is the most astute creature in all creation, not excepting even the fox. The peasantry of Berkshire have a legend about him, in which Reynard plays but a poor figure. A fox and a hedgehog, they say, once disputed which of them was the swifter animal, and agreed to run a race of three heats between two ditches in a large field. The hedgehog, like a cunning old knave as he was, hid his wife in the ditch which was to form the goal, so that when he had made a pretense of starting she might jump out, and pretend to be himself just arrived. No sooner had the fox cried "Off!" than Mrs. Hedgehog cried "In!" and directly she had in her turn made a false start back, old Thorney-sides leaped out and said, "In again!" So after three desper ate runs, the broken-winded fox, which never perceived the ruse, was compelled to yield, and ever since that day the hedgehog has been his master. round the box while the hedgehog lay rolled up and did not appear to see the intruder. The professor then lay the hedgehog on the snake, with that part of the ball where the head and tail meet downward, and touching it. The snake proceeded to crawl; the hedgehog started, opened slightly, and seeing what was under, gave the snake a hard bite, and instantly rolled itself up again. After lying a minute it opened a second, and again a third time, repeating the bite; and by the third bite the back of the snake was by the snake's side, and passed its whole body successively through its jaws, cracking and breaking it at intervals of half an inch or more, by which operation the snake was quite finished. The hedgehog then placed itself at the tip of his fallen enemy's tail, and began to eat upward, as one would eat a raddish, slowly, but without intermission, till half of him was devoured, and next morning he ate the remainder. The hedgehog usually takes up his residence in woods or wide double hedgerows, where he can hide away beneath the underwood; but he is perhaps fondest of a little thicket of fern and bracken near a running stream. The best time to meet with him is on a summer evening soon after sunset, for he is then just roused | from his day-sleep, and walks out to look after food. You may often see him stealth-broken. This done, the hedgehog stood ily creeping along a hedge-bottom, rooting with his long snout among the herbage, and every now and then stopping to craunch, with extra gusto, some delicious bonne bouche in the shape of a savory cockroach or plump earthworm. The moment he sees you he begins to run; but his awkward legs are not meant for fleetness; and directly he sees there is no chance of escape, he tumbles upon his side, bows his head under his breast, draws in his legs and tail, and in half a second lies at your mercy, a ball of prickles. While in this position it would be as easy to tear him to pieces as to pull him open; he resists every effort, and possesses, moreover, a power of elevating and depressing his spines at will, which makes the attempt far from pleasant. So great is the strength and toughness of this covering, that Mr. Bell states he has seen a hedgehog in his possession run toward the precipitous wall of an area, and without a moment's hesitation throw itself off, contracting at the same instant into a ball, in which condition it reached the ground from a height of twelve or fourteen feet, and after a short interval it would unfold itself, and run off unhurt. For his size the hedgehog is immensely fierce. He is a great gourmand, and will face almost any danger to please his palate. They are often known to enter poultry-houses, and after driving away the hens, devour the eggs. The young of birds which build their nests near the ground, are eaten by them, and they even attack the snake. This latter fact was often doubted till Professor Buckland put it to the test by shutting up the two animals together in a large box. When first introduced it was not apparent whether the snake recognized his enemy. It did not dart away, but kept creeping gently There is another peculiarity about the hedgehog which is very little known, but, if properly investigated, seems likely to lead to valuable discoveries. No poison of any kind will act upon its system. Pallas gave one a hundred cantharides, which the animal appeared to relish amazingly; while half of one of these acrid insects given to a dog or cat would cause the most horrible torment. The home of a hedgehog is a curious little structure of moss and dried leaves, and is generally constructed with greater skill than that of any other of the nestmaking mammalia. Sometimes he builds it under the shade of a thick furze-bush, or oftener still in the little caves hollowed out by the rain "Under an oak whose antique root peeps out; and this, perhaps, is his favorite den, as it affords him the most protection from the foxes and dogs. The care he takes in rendering his dwelling wind and rain proof, has given rise to a popular notion that he is able to foresee changes in the weather, and alters the situation of his house accordingly; hence, in many parts of England, a hedgehog's nest is looked upon as a kind of Murphy's Almanac, altogether infallible. Bodenham, in his Garden of the Muses, published in 1600, alludes to this idea in the simile: "As hedgehogs. doe foresee ensuing stormes, So wise men are for fortune still prepared." Into this hibernaculum, when the nights become chilly, and his food scarce, he betakes himself for his long winter's sleep; first, however, taking care to roll himself up in such a prodigious quantity of moss and dried leaves that the severest snows will leave him warm and dry. Unlike the rest of the sleepers, he accumulates no provisions. The only store he takes with him is a goodly layer of fat about the viscera and under the skin, which is slowly absorbed, as the waste of his inactive life requires. With the first warm beams of spring he wakes up lean and hungry; and it is said that in this voracious condition he will attack almost anything, and has even been known to break his fast upon a hen. The disposition of the hedgehog may be very considerably modified by taming. James Dousa, the celebrated Dutch scholar, had a pet one which followed him about, and evinced the greatest attachment for his person. When it died, Lipsius immortalized its memory in some Latin verses, almost as rough and unpoetical as the subject. In London they are much used to destroy the black beetles which abound in the underground kitchens; and many instances are recorded of their becoming familiar with those who treat them kindly. The writer formerly had one who used to know his name, "Spot," very well, and would directly uncoil himself at the sound of his master's voice. He had so far overcome his natural timidity as to lie before the fire in company with a cat and dog. With the latter he was on very friendly terms; but the cat and he always regarded each other with mutual aversion. and then, without the slightest provocaEvery now tion, he would suddenly open and bite her leg or tail, and then instantaneously contract himself again with a Touch-me-ifyou dare kind of air, which was vastly amusing. This may have been the mere exuberance of hedgehog spirits, but it was a great deal too much like earnest to make it pleasant for pussy, who, however, never ventured to retaliate, for she had probably found that his prickles were more than a match for her claws. She contrived to kitten upon a table, in order that her young should be out of his reach; but one day, during her absence, he VOL. XI.-26 climbed up by the leg, and pushed one of after it, was proceding to drag it away by them off, and then rolling himself down the neck to his hole under the fire-place, Then ensued a battle-royal. Utterly unwhen the mother happened to return. mindful of her usual caution, the infuriated against the enemy, and was each time reparent dashed herself three separate times probably, was there such an expenditure ceived with fixed bayonets. Never, of spitting and fuming; but all to no purpose, for the hedgehog clung to his prey like a ferret. Had not the writer interfered, and caused the hedgehog to drop the kitten, it would probably have been rent in two between the combatants. The cat shoulders, and the hedgehog had some was much pricked all over her face and ugly scratches under his throat. The uses to which the hedgehog has been put are numerous. Among the peasantry on the continent, and in many parts of England, it is used as food dumpling is by no means an uncommon to a considerable extent. Hedgehogcottage-dinner in Buckinghamshire. The flesh of the young animal is very white, and not unlike rabbit. Among the Rocarding wool, and several decrees of the mans the spines were extensively used in staplers, who were in the habit of buying senate are extant against the rich woolthem all up, and thus forestalling the market. nus, the right eye of a hedgehog, fried in According to Albertus Magoil, and kept in a brass vessel, imparts a virtue to the oil, so that when used as an ointment to the eye it imparts such a wonderful clearness of vision, as to enable a person to see as well by night as by day! The fat is still believed by our countryand many a hedgehog falls a martyr to folks to be very efficacious in deafness, the delusion. hero without saying a word about his do- SCENES FROM COUNTRY LIFE. UTUMN, the favorite season of most | Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Α' poets, is thus described by Keats: SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness! Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatcheaves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd and plump the hazelshells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours. [are they? Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; |