The reason of their being found more in such places, must be sought in the circumstance of the insects being more attracted there by the froth of the soap.

Next to sparrows and robins, the wagtails may be considered as living on terms of the greatest familiarity with man; as they appear to be little susceptible of fear at his approach and presence. The Wagtail is about seven inches and a half in length, from the tip of the bill to the end of the tail, and eleven inches in breadth, between the point of each extended wing: it has a sharp bill of an inch long, and a dusky colour. The circles of the eyes are brown, with a large white spot encircling each, and another or two underneath it, on each side of the throat. The top of the head, the throat, and the back, are black. Some of the tips of the quill feathers are white, forming a small white line upon the wing; the white edges of some of the rows of the under tail feathers form similar lines. The tail is about three inches in length, and is continually in motion; the outer feathers are chiefly white, the rest are black. Some naturalists have supposed that the flirting of the tail, which is particularly seen after the bird has alighted on the ground, or has just been stooping to seize some helpless insect, is needful as a sort of lever to restore its body to its proper equilibrium.

TWO LOVELY FLOWERS.

THE LILY.

EMBLEM of Him, in whom no stain
The eye of heaven could see;
In all their glory, monarchs vain
Are not arrayed like me.

THE VIOLET.

A lowly flower, in secret bower,
Invisible I dwell;

For blessing made, without parade,
Known only by my smell.

THE FALCON AND THE SERPENT.

LE VAILLANT furnishes the following account of an engagement between a secretary falcon and a serpent. The battle was obstinate, and conducted with equal address on both sides. But the serpent, at length feeling the inferiority of his strength, employed, in his attempt to regain his hole, all that cunning which is attributed to the tribe, while the bird, apparently guessing his design, stopped him on a sudden, and cut off his retreat, by placing herself before him at a single leap. On whatever side the reptile endeavoured to make his escape, his enemy still appeared before him. Then, uniting at once both bravery and cunning, the serpent boldly erected himself to intimidate the bird, and hissing dreadfully, displayed his menacing throat, inflamed eyes, and a head swollen with rage and venom. Sometimes this threatening appearance produced a momentary suspension of hostilities; but the bird soon returned to the charge, and covering her body with one of her wings as a buckler, struck her enemy with the bony part of the other. The serpent staggered and fell, the conqueror immediately sprung upon him, and with one stroke of her beak laid open his skull.

SHETLAND PONIES.

MR. HALL, in his travels through Scotland, tells us that "when the ponies come to any boggy piece of ground-whether with or without their masters, they first put their noses to it and then pat it in a peculiar way with their forefeet; and from the sound and feeling of the ground, they know whether it will bear them. They do the same with ice, and determine in a minute whether they will proceed, and that with a judgment far more unerring than that of their riders."

ONE evening Maria's mother related in her presence an anecdote of a little daughter of Dr. Doddridge, which pleased Maria extremely. When this child, about six years old, was asked, what made everybody love her? she replied, "I don't know, indeed, father, unless it is because I love everybody." The beauti

ful simplicity of this reply struck Maria forcibly. "If this is all that is necessary in order to be loved," thought Maria, "I will soon make everybody love me." Her mother mentioned a remark of John Newton, that he considered the world to be divided into two great masses-one of happiness, and the other of misery; and it was his daily business to take as much as possible from the heap of misery and add it to that of happiness. "Now," thought Maria, "I will begin to-morrow to try to make everybody happy. Instead of thinking all the time about myself, I will ask every minute what I can do for somebody else. Mother has often told me that this is the best way of being happy myself, and I am determined to try."-Pastor's Daughter.

"WE cannot let him go," the New Zealanders said, on hearing that their missionary was about to leave them. "He says he is going to return to England; the ship is here to take him away. But no, we will keep him, and make him our slave-not our slave to fetch wood and water, but our talking slave. he shall be our slave to talk and to teach us. HIM WE WILL."

'Twas night, and in his tent he lay,
Upon a heathen shore,

While wildly on his wakeful ear

The ocean billows roar.

'Twas midnight, and the war-club rang

Upon his threshold stone,

And heavy feet of savage men

Came fiercely trampling on.

Loud were their tones in fierce debate,
The chieftain and his clau:

"He shall not go, he shall not go,
That missionary man.

For him the swelling sail doth spread,
The tall ship rides the wave,

But we will chain him to our coast:
Yes, he shall be our slave.

Not from our groves the wood to bear,
Nor water from the vale,

Nor in the battle front to stand,

Where proudest foemen quail;
Not the great war canoe to guide,

Where crystal streams turn red;
But he shall be our slave to break
The soul its living bread."

Then slowly peer'd the rising moon
Above the forest height,

And bathed each cocoa's leafy craw
In tides of evening light.

To every cabin's grassy thatch

A gift of beauty gave,

Yes,

KEEP

And with a crest of silver cheer'd

Pacific's sullen wave.

But o'er that gentle scene a shout
In sudden clangor came-

"Come forth, come forth, thou man of God,

And answer to our claim :"
So down to those dark island men
He bow'd him as he spake,
"Behold, your servant will I be

For Christ my master's sake."

TO A MOTHER ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD.

OUR Saviour has said, "Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven;" and it is evident that he desires that they should come unto him. See him almost daily calling the dear little ones to himself the parents mourning the loss of a beloved child, that like a sweet bud had just begun to open its sweetness, when the hand of death plucked it from them, that it might go to Jesus, and bloom in all the radiance of his glorious presence.

The way may sometimes appear dark and mysterious, and the reason with difficulty be assigned, why the dear one should be taken, when the few flowers of earth were strewn in its path, and the first vines of affection were just springing forth, entwining their tendrils around our hearts; and just at the moment when it seemed that the whole soul was absorbed in the dear object, the first-born was snatched from your fond embrace. Suddenly rendered insensible, it lingered a few hours, and then its spirit soared far above earth's cold vanities, which would so soon have blighted its joyous affections, had not the slender thread of life been thus early severed. Were I asked for a reason, said a man of God, why the Saviour called your child, I should say, He loved her, and so he