3rd to 7th inclusive.-The same, with 7 Ch between. Take a piece of thin cardboard, and make a round 10 inches wide. Cover it on both sides with green silk or twill, running the edges neatly together. Tack the mat on it, running it round at the edge of the cord first, and then by the chains of the 11th round, which should completely cover this foundation, leaving the scalloped edge of the 12th and 13th rounds as a border. The gold net-work is left quite loose. Now make 4 dark leaves, and 4 light with the crystal wool: thus, 20 Ch, take a morsel of wire 1 fingers long, and hold it in while working 1 Sc, 2 Sdc, 1 Dc in the same stitch as the last, 1 Dc, 1 Stc, 1 Te in the same, 9 Tc, 1 Te and 1 Ste in one, 1 Stc, 1 Dc, 1 Sde, 3 Sc in one at the point, 1 Sde, 1 Dc, 2 Stc, 1 Te in the same as the last, 10 Tc, 1 Stc in the last, 2 Dc, 1 Sde in the last, 1 Sc, 1 Slip. Fasten off by plaiting the end of wool with the two ends of wire. All the 8 leaves are to be done alike. THE FLOWERS. With common wool make a chain of 5, close into a round. 1st Round.-1 De in every stitch, with 1 chain between. 2nd Round.-Using a different colour. De on every stitch with one chain between. Make 16 flowers, some white, some lilac. and some crimson. Make every two leaves and four flowers into a little bouquet, and tack them down on the mat, at equal distances, as near as they can be to the outer edge of the cordwork, and under the gold net-work. Then tack down the edges of the latter, at the same place as the wool was fastened to the lining (the chain of the 11th round). Materials for this mat sent for 4s. or sample mat for Ss. 6d. post free. Money is only safe if sent by Post-office order, on Old Cavendish-street. SECRET OF COMFORT.-Though sometimes small evils, like invisible insects, inflict pains, and a single hair may stop a vast machine, yet the chief secret of comfort lies in not suffering trifles to vex one, and in prudently cultivating an undergrowth of small pleasures, since very few great ones, alas! are the common lot. HISTORY OF STOCKINGS. WE are told that Henry II. of France was the first who wore silk stockings, at his sister's wedding to the Duke of Savoy, in 1509. Howell, in his "History of the World," says, that in 1560, Queen Elizabeth was presented with a pair of black silk knit stockings, by her silk-woman, Mrs. Montague, and she never wore cloth ones any more. He also adds, that Henry VIII. wore ordinarily cloth hose, except there came from Spain, by great chance, a pair of silk stockings. His son, King Edward VI. was presented with a pair of long Spanish silk stockings by Sir Thomas Gresham. Hence, it would seem, that the invention of knit stockings originally came from Spain. Anderson tells us-others relate, that one William Rider, an apprentice on London Bridge, seeing at the house of an Italian merchant a pair of knit stockings, from Mantua, took the hint, and made a pair exactly like them, which he presented to the Earl of Pembroke, and that they were the first of that kind worn in England. There have been various opinions with respect to the original invention of the stocking-frame; but it is now generally acknowledged that it was invented in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, in the year 1589, by William Lee, M.A., of St. John's College, in Cambridge-a native of Woodborough, near Nottingham. In the "London Magazine," vol. iv. p. 337, we are told that this gentleman was expelled the University for marrying contrary to the statutes of the College. Being thus rejected and ignorant of any other means of subsistence, he was reduced to the necessity of living upon what his wife could earn by knitting of stockings, which gave a spur to his invention; and by curiously observing the working of the needles in knitting, he formed in his mind the model of the frame, which proved of such advantage to that branch of our manufactures. Mr. Lee went to France, and for want of patronage there and in this country died of a broken heart, at Paris. The Frame-work Knitters' Company was incorporated by Charles II., 1663. Ir their Hall is the portrait of Lee, pointing to one of the iron frames, and discoursing with a woman, who is knitting with needles and her fingers. THE DUTIES AND DELIGHTS OF DOMESTIC LIFE. BY THE REV. JOHN THORNTON. "Contented toil, and hospitable care, anecdote of Racine, the famous French poet, the substance of which shall be given to the reader. Having one day just returned from Versailles, where he had been on a visit, he was waited upon by a gentleman with an invitation to dine at the Hôtel de Condé. "I cannot possibly have the honour to go there," said the poet; "it is a week since I have been with my wife and children; they are overjoyed to see me again, and have provided a fine carp, so that I must dine with those dear relatives." "But, my good sir," replied the gentleman, "several of the most distinguished characters expect your company, and will be very glad to see you." Racine showed him the carp, saying having provided such a treat for me, what apology could I make for not dining with my children? Neither they, nor my wife, could have any pleasure in eating a bit of it without me; then pray be so obliging as to mention my excuse to the Prince of Condé, and my other illustrious friends." The gentleman did so; and not only his Serene Highness but all the company present professed themselves more charmed with this proof of the poet's faithful tenderness as a husband and father, than they possibly could have been with his delightful conversation. "ALL the members of a family," says Dr. Dwight," are connected by the strong bonds of natural affection-bonds which unite human beings together with a power and intimacy, found in no other circumstances of life. The members of a family all dwell in the same house; are daily united in one common system of employ-" Here, sir, is our little meal; then say, ments; interchange unceasingly and habitually their kind offices; and are accustomed to rejoice and mourn, to hope and fear, to weep and smile together. No eloquence, no labour, no time, is necessary to awaken these sympathetic emotions. They are caught at once from eye to eye, and from heart to heart; and spread instantaneously with an electric influence through all the endeared and happy circle." The celebrated Sir Thomas More apologizes for not having sooner published his Utopia," by alleging that he felt obliged to devote a great part of the time he could spare from his public avocations, to free and affectionate intercourse with his wife and children, which, though some might think trifling amusements, he placed among our necessary duties. To this example from history, we shall add the testimony of a living writer of great worth. "Let me here," says Mrs. More, "be allowed the gratification of observing, that those women of real genius and extensive knowledge, whose friendship has conferred honour and happiness upon me, have been in general eminent for economy and the practice of domestic virtues; and greatly superior to the affectation of despising the duties and the knowledge of common life." When the charming delights of the domestic circle have lost their relish, there must be something radically wrong. It is not genius, or literature, or virtue, which has disenchanted the lovely scene; but avarice, unhallowed ambition, or profligacy. I was much pleased with an We meet with persons who display much vivacity and politeness in mixed company abroad, but at home they are sullen, unsociable, irritable, and captious. Their good-humour and their good manners are reserved, like their best apparel, for holiday visits, and are put away the moment they enter their own residence, as if too costly and precious for everyday use. To secure fireside comforts and homeborn happiness, something more is necessary than a neat snug mansion, surrounded with gardens and lawns, where flowers, and shrubs, and shady walks, are all kept in the nicest order. Family bickerings and strifes would turn an Eden itself into a desert. It is of little avail to furnish the house, and cultivate the ground, in the best style, if the minds of the inhabitants are vacant and uncultivated. will a few bright insulated maxims, and soft soothing sentiments, from the pages of fiction and poetry, answer the desired Nor end. The play and movement of kindly feeling must be kept up by an unremitting interchange of those little winning attentions, which are required to sweeten all human society. Yet tenderness, though full and overflowing, will not suffice, unless accompanied by a dignity and decorum which commands esteem and respect. Those who would enjoy domestic delights ought to be reminded, that they will be more likely to gain their point, by studying to pass their time usefully, than by making it over, in regularly distributed portions, to ease and pleasure. Many persons wonder that the enchantments which bards have sung, should be wanting in the retreat to which they have long fondly looked. But man cannot be happy in any situation, without an expansion of mind, a brisk flow of ideas and spirits, and a lively sense of the worth and importance of those talents which are given by the great Creator to be occupied and improved. It is evident, that where present ease and gratification are exclusively sought, the domestic circle must be first invaded by weariness and apathy, and afterward by chagrin and disgust ;-but the pursuit and communication of knowledge, the culture of friendship, the exercise of charity and faith; in a word, the assiduous and vigorous discharge of personal and relative duties, and the proper use of every advantage which Providence hath bestowed, fail not to give a wholesome currency and purity to the thoughts, and a sprightly cheerfulness to the feelings of the heart. The house which is dedicated as a temple to God, becomes the mansion of peace and concord, love and joy. Religion sheds a hallowed influence over the most endearing relations of life, corrects acerbity of temper, purifies the springs of sympathy, and enlivens the present, by the glowing prospects of futurity. Nor is the man a blank in the world, whose lot is comparatively obscure, provided virtue and piety prompt his actions, and pervade his comforts and his cares. "He," says an able writer, "who praises God only on a ten-stringed instrument, whose authority extends no farther than his own family, nor his example beyond his own neighbourhood, may have as thankful a heart here, and as high a place in the celestial choir hereafter, as the greatest monarch who praises God upon an instrument of ten thousand strings, and upon the loudsounding organ, having as many millions of pipes as there are subjects in his empire." THE RIND OF FRUIT THIS fact cannot be too strongly impressed upon the public. It applies to all fruit, without exception, and includes also, the pellicle or skin of kernels and nuts of all kinds. The edible part of fruit is particularly delicate, and liable to rapid decomposition if exposed to the atmosphere; it is, therefore, a provision of Nature to place a strong and impervious coating over it, as a protection against accident, and to prevent insect enemies from destroying the seed within. The skin of all the plum tribe is wonderfully strong, compared with its substance, and resists the action of water and many solvents in a remarkable manner. If not thoroughly masticated before taken into the stomach, the rind of plums is rarely, if ever, dissolved by the gastric juice. In some cases, pieces of it adhere to the coats of the stomach, the same as wet paper clings to the bodies, causing sickness and other inconvenience. Dried raisins and currants are particularly included in these remarks, showing the best reasons for placing the fruit upon the chopping-board with the suet in making a pudding of them, for if a dried currant passes into the stomach whole, it is never digested at all. When horses eat oats or beans that have not been through a crushing-mill, much of this food is swallowed whole, and in this state, being perfectly indigestible, the husk or pellicle resisting the advents of the stomach, there is so much loss to nutrition. Birds, being destitute of teeth, are provided with the apparatus for grinding their seed, namely, with the gizzard, through which the seed passes, and is crushed prior to digestion. The peels of apples and pears should always be cast away. Oranges we need not mention, as this is always done. Orleans, greengages, damsons, and all plums, should be carefully skinned if eaten raw, and if put into tarts, they should be crushed before cooking. Nuts are as indigestible as we could desire, if the brown skin be not removed or blanched, as almonds are generally treated. STORIES FOR THE YOUNG. FLOWERS. II. THE FATE OF THE VIOLET. THE happy Lucille arose early upon her birthday morning, and hastened into the garden; there was to be a brilliant fête that evening in her honour, and she wished to gather the newly awakened flowers ere the sun had stolen their freshness, that they might be woven into garlands, and grouped in vases, to adorn the rooms. "I am to be queen of the festival," soliloquised the young girl, as she passed like a humming-bird from flower to flower," and will choose the fairest of these garden beauties to wear in ny bosom; I will adopt it for my own, and so emulate the peculiar beauty for which it is most admired, that I shall be called Lucille the rose, or the tulip, or whatever flower I may choose; the idea is so pretty! but first I must find a perfect flower." Thus communing with herself, the young girl passed among the flowers culling the fairest, and filling the broad baskets which had been placed to receive them. Though all were beautiful, none seemed as yet worthy of her especial choice; and she rested a moment against a marble basin, whence issued a little fountain, and gazed upon the beautiful profusion of flowers which surrounded her. Just at her feet, and almost concealed by the long grass, grew a tuft of deep blue violets, with the flowers embedded in soft green leaves; the tears of morning yet trembled upon their bosoms, and their breath arose like an incense of gratitude from the freshened sod. Lucille looked down upon them, and spoke : "You are winning in your gentle loveliness, sweet blossoms of the spring; and I would fain resemble you, but other flowers are fairer, and perchance as sweet; won by their superior charms, I might regret my choice, and neglected you would wither; hide yourselves, therefore, amid your leaves, and if I find none lovelier I will return." A dew-drop fell from the violet's cup like a tear of patient sorrowing; but the young Lucille bent her gaze upon the fountain, and the lovely face which its clear waters reflected seemed far too brilliant to find its fitting emblem in the humble violet. "I wish to be loved," thought the young girl, "but I must also be admired; surely there is some other flower which combines the sweetness of the violet with more brilliant charms;" and with a gay smile she passed on. Won by the gorgeous hues of a magnificent tulip, Lucille stooped to admire it. "Here is a beauty that will attract all beholders," she thought; but as she bent towards it no breath of perfume welcomed her-the splendid flower was void of fragrance. "What avails beauty without sweetness," she murmured, and sighing sought again a perfect flower. The waving anemone, the brilliant jonquil, the drooping columbine, and stately lily, each in turn attracted her; but in each there was something which the young girl cared not to imitate, or which left her a charm to desire, and still she found not what she sought. Suddenly she paused with a cry of delight, for, bathed in the dews of morning, the graceful rose unfolded her rich petals to the sun and perfumed the air with her sighs. "Behold perfection!" exclaimed the young girl, putting forth her hand to cull the tempting flower; but as she ciasped the delicate stem, a thorn pierced her finger, and she started in disappointed surprise. 66 "These thorns would wound my heart," she cried; beautiful, yet unkind, I dare not cull you, nor choose you as my emblem flower, for I desire not to attract by loveliness and sweetness, only to wound by hidden stings,”—and again she passed on sorrowing. Wearied with her fruitless search, Lucille threw herself upon a shaded bank. and thoughtfully compared the varied charms of all the brilliant flowers that she had seen,-then she remembered the gentle violets, and eagerly sought the spot where they bloomed. The sun had mounted high in the heavens when the young girl reached the fountain, and saw the modest turf at her feet. "Fairest and sweetest," she exclaimed, "behold I have sought amid all the flowers and there are none like you. I find beauty without sweetness, elegance without gentleness, brilliance without modesty. You, in your gentle loveliness, far excel all others of your bright compeers. Come, I will wear you next my heart; your fragrance shall refresh me while your loveliness delights. Yes, I will strive to emulate your modesty and sweetness, and thus deserve at length to be called Lucille the Violet." She knelt to cull the flowers, but they were withered. Unable to bear the heat of noonday, they had drooped and faded; her choice had been too long delayed, and now they could bloom no more. A fainting breath of perfume was all that remained to tell of their wasted loveliness and decay. A SISTER'S VALUE. HAVE you a sister? Then love and cherish her with all that pure and holy friendship which renders a brother so worthy and noble. Learn to appreciate her sweet influence as portrayed in the following words : : "He who has never known a sister's kind administration, nor felt his heart warming beneath her endearing smile and love-beaming eye, has been unfortunate indeed. It is not to be wondered at if the fountains of pure feeling flow in his bosom but sluggishly, or if the gentle emotions of his nature be lost in the sterner attributes of mankind. "That man has grown up among affectionate sisters,' I once heard a lady of much observation and experience remark. "And why do you think so?' said I 666 'Because of the rich development of all the tender feelings of the heart.' "A sister's influence is felt even in manhood's riper years; and the heart of him who has grown cold in chilly contact with the world will warm and thrill with pure enjoyment as some accident awakens within him the soft tones, the glad melodies of his sister's voice; and he will turn from purposes which a warped and false philosophy had reasoned into expediency, and even weep for the gentle influences which moved him in his earlier years." SINCE old John Taylor wrote the above quaint lines, the art of embroidery has undergone many important improvements, and it is also very clear, that the present generation have lost many kinds of stitches; that is to say, they are not acquainted with the various stitches mentioned by quaint old John. However, we think that even he would be somewhat puzzled to see some of the new stitches used in embroidery at the present time, although the old saying that "there is nothing new under the sun" almost holds good in this case. Embroidery is decidedly the especial province of the fair sex, it affords them amusement and instruction in hours of ease, and comfort during affliction, and may therefore be deemed a real Family Friend. The first design we present to our readers is taken from a very elegant tablecover, exhibited (c. 19, No. 377) by Mary E. Dalrymple, of Wilton-street, Grosvenor-place, London. It consists of a central wreath of roses and other cultivated flowers, and corner-pieces to match, worked with chenille in appropriate colours, upon fawn-coloured cloth. The second design is taken from a piece of cloth embroidered with gold thread, upon a deep moreen ground, and exhibited (c. 12. No. 166) by Messrs. Holdsworth and Co., of Halifax and Bradford, Manchesters The design, which is intended for the border of a table-cover, looks very rich and effective, and was fortunate enough to gain a prize medal. Our next engraving represents the central portion of a child's bassinet cover, worked upon cambric, and exhibited (c. 19, No. 166) by Messrs. D. and J. Mac |