the theology of his religion, the Athenian right, and all the laws of Greece, the mystery of the numbers and harmony of Pythagoras, the morals of the Stoics, the precepts of the old academy, the doctrines of Epicurus; continually referring all to his great object, eloquence. So that, after the death of Sylla, he returned to Rome with his health established, and his mind then greatly enriched. It is almost difficult to conceive how one man should come to know so many things, and each so well. But still, his great passion was eloquence, and to this he applied with even more carefulness than the rest. To the proper command of his voice, the expression of his countenance, and to suitable action, he diligently attended, often consulting the accomplished Roscius, especially in regard to pronunciation.

Cicero thus sought to know all. While Demosthenes, directing his attention to a far more limited sphere, concentrated his efforts on his one grand object, and confined himself to the diligent study of Thucydides, that he might take the very character and style of the great historian. It is not surprising that Demosthenes did this; for nothing had then appeared more accomplished than the history of this author. Herodotus, who had preceded him, had perhaps written in a more interesting manner, because of the variety of the subjects on which he treated, and the turn he chose to give them. For as he did not constrain himself to speak of things just as they were, it was more easy for him to please and attach his readers. Thucydides was far more severe. He could admit nothing which might wound the truth, and it was a sacred law with him always to speak it. Still, in seeking only to instruct, he is not the less interesting: his narrative appears simple and compact, but it is clear and natural; and his simplicity has a true grandeur which is always sustained by beauty of expression. On this model Demosthenes formed himself, and to acquire the very habit of this, he wrote, with his own hand, the whole work eight times. At the same time it is evident that he drew likewise from other sources. He had heard Plato, and must have studied the rhetoric of Isocrates and Aleidamas.

On the whole, it must be acknowledged that, in respect of

capacity, Cicero had the advantage. His natural disposition was more favourable; he had been better trained, and had given more time to general study, as well as availed himself of the numerous opportunities which had been afforded him. This capacity is the first part of personal merit; and one of the most necessary elements of the power of perseverance; for the more enlightened a man is, the more willing are his hearers to believe what he says.

(To be continued.)

ANECDOTES OF HUGH KENNEDY, PROVOST OF AYR, IN SCOTLAND.

JOHN STEWART, Provost of Ayr, told me that one night, about three o'clock in the morning, Hugh Kennedy came to him, and called him up, and took him with him to prayer; "For," said he, "my son John, and those with him that are coming home by sea, are at this instant in great peril of their lives;" and, after some hours' prayer, he said, "Now they are safe!" John Stewart wrote down the day of the month, and found, when the ship came home, that that night they struck upon a rock, and with great difficulty got off.

He told me also, that one day a man in the town had thrown into the water a hamper and sea-chest of one of the Provost's sons: the Provost meeting him said to the man, "Were it not for the awe of God, and place that I bear, I judge that you deserve that I should tread you under my feet!" The night after, about two or three o'clock in the morning, the Provost came to John Stewart, and called him up, desiring him to go with him, showing him he could not eat nor sleep because he had spoken such injurious boasting words to that man; and therefore, as he had confessed his fault to God, he behoved to go and confess it to the man. They went to the man's house. The man, hearing that it was the Provost, drew his sword, and laid it naked in the bed behind him, fearing to be assaulted. The Provost fell down on his knees before the bed, and said, "Brother, I wronged you and the office I bear, in boasting and threatening you, and I can get no rest till you forgive me;" and would not rise till the man solemnly forgave him.-Livingston's Characteristics.

SENTENCES FOR REFLECTION.

If thou too much desirest to be thought a wise man, it will hinder thee from being so; for thou wilt be more solicitous to let the world see what knowledge thou hast, than to learn what thou wantest.

Thy mind will never be raised to its true pitch and height, till thou hast, in some measure, conquered the fondness of life, and slavish fear of death, and made them subject

to reason.

If thou revilest the good, thou art unjust, because they deserve it not. If thou revilest the bad, thou art unwise, for it's likely they may be too hard for thee at that weapon.

Be but true to thyself, and obey the dictates of thy own mind, and give leave to thy conscience to counsel thee, and tell thee what thou oughtest to do, and forbear; and then thou shalt be a law to thyself.

Oftentimes, when the body complains of trouble, it is not so much the greatness of that trouble, as the littleness of thy spirit, that occasions the complaint.

Whatever sin, though never so little an one, if thou allowest thyself to live in it, and excusest and pleadest for it, be it known to thee, that it is not a mere infirmity, but a wilful transgression.

Know that if any trouble happen to thee, it is what thou hast deserved, and therefore brought upon thyself. But if any comfort come to thee, it is a gift of God, and thou didst not merit it.

It is not enough for thee that a thing be right, if it be not fit to be done; nor is it advisable for thee to do what is just, if not prudent. If thou losest by getting, thou hadst better lose than get.

Because thou seest a man in an error in those things whereof thou canst judge, thou art not therefore to believe he must be equally mistaken in those things where thou canst not judge.

Complain not of the loss of Adam's knowledge, but of his innocency we know enough to save us; and what is more than that, is, in some sort, superfluous.

NOTICES OF ANIMATED AND VEGETABLE

NATURE,

FOR JUNE, 1847.

BY MR. WILLIAM ROGERSON, of the Royal Observatory, Greenwich.

"BUT welcome, of the summer sun

Bright offspring! welcome, glorious JUNE!
How splendid is yon vaulted dome!
Far as the' excursive eye can roam,

From that deep azure overhead

To where the earth's wide girdle spread
Around us terminates the view,
With paler and yet paler blue;
No spot pollutes the pure serene,
Or if a transient spot be seen
Of scatter'd vapour here and there,
Ascending through the calm clear air,
Soon fades it from the following sight,
And melting joins the' abyss of light.

Then as the sun draws near his rest
Of glory, 'twixt the north and west,
How changed is that horizon pale!
How, from behind the filmy veil,
Looks forth the setting orb of gold!
And ere the twilight dim infold

The face of things, what tints are seen,
Of brilliant yellow, purple, green,
Flooding the sky with liquid gleams!

Thence mounting upward, how the streams
On some small cloud, if cloud appear,
Scarce moving through the concave sphere,
Cast their reflection's vivid glow:
Illumining the skirts below,

With gold and purple hues array'd,
The parts superior veil'd in shade!"

BISHOP MANT.

DURING the revolution of this brilliant month, the animated and vegetable departments of nature appear to great advantage, and lead the thoughtful mind to profitable meditations. With regard to insects, many of them are too minute to be seen without the aid of a powerful microscope; but it is in the miniature world, that the greatest variety, the greatest beauty, the most elaborate mechanism, and the most wonderful creative wisdom are to be found; for there the hand of God has fixed his seal and impressure in the strongest characters.

"The bee constructs its honey-comb on exact mathematical principles; and however far it may rove during the day to extract honey from the opening flowers, it returns with certainty to its hive. The industry and frugality of the ant is singular, even to a proverb. The case-worm, before it becomes a fly, has to pass through an intermediate state; but as it is during this state in a torpid and unconscious condition, it wonderfully constructs a portcullis at the entrance of its case, which at once excludes the

intrusion of enemies, but admits the water, which is necessary to its existence. The cabbage-butterfly is a singular insect. It never makes a mistake by placing its eggs on a wrong vegetable; for were they laid on any other than the cabbage-leaf, they would not succeed they are likewise in every case placed on the under part of the leaf, so that they may neither be destroyed by the sun or rain, and that the young, when hatched, may not be exposed to other insects, &c. The metamorphosis of this insect and others is really wonderful! The spider is a remarkable creature; for even the delicate thread which it spins is composed of many hundreds of other threads. If we examine the common house-fly, we find that a superb feather-covering graces its head; we see the minute perfection, and the elaborate finishing, of this little being, and the most wonderful mechanism in every part of the body; but let us remember that, in addition to its structure, there are its appetites and functions, its stomach, its organs of breathing, and its muscles of motion, its several senses, and perhaps its passions. Let us then examine the wing by which it makes its airy revolutions. Now the extreme tenuity of these wings is such, that many thousands of them placed one above another, would not make a pile an inch in height; yet each of them is double, and strengthened by elastic nerves or ribs. With those wings the fly can make six hundred strokes in a second, (according to the calculation of an anonymous writer in Nicholson's Journal,) which carries it a distance of five feet; but when alarmed, it can proceed at a rate of thirty feet in the same time, which is about one-third of the rate of the swiftest race-horse. Now ten millions of flies would not counterpoise the racer; but if the fly were increased to the size of the horse, and retained its present powers in the ratio of its magnitude, it might then traverse the globe with a degree of swiftness, almost comparable with the rapidity of lightning."-Saturday Magazine.

The first half of the month.-The mole, brown rat, and dormouse, often leave their runs in search of water. Tadpoles are now to be seen in great swarms in ponds and ditches. It is amusing to put a few of these in a basin or glass, and watch their transformations. When they first emerge from the frog-spawn, they appear like little fishes with large heads and long tails. Legs, after a short time, make their appearance; the tails fall off; and then the young frogs forsake the water, and leap about.

The curious little fishes called sticklebacks are found in great abundance in June. They are small, and, if put in a glass, extremely beautiful, the back being red, and the sides of a brilliant green, shading into a silvery white. The fins on each side of the head are very large, and as fine as gossamer; and are in perpetual motion. The males are very pugnacious; and if several are put together in one glass, the strongest will kill the others. When kept singly, and supplied daily with fresh water, with duck-weed or some kind of conferva, they will live a long time.

The nightingale now ceases to pour his melodious strains to the midnight breeze. The garden-warbler and blackcap continue to