not die, that his life remains, from how many is the priceless jewel of life, purity, honour, honesty, stolen by those into whose arms the cheerless home has driven them! In a land which we are so fond of describing as being filled with Homes, and as being especially the most homeloving in the world, is it not useless to cry, "Behold how good and how pleasant a thing it is to dwell together in unity!" The sister will be loved, honoured, and cherished; the father, having sacrificed himself for the children in giving them his time, his love, his money, will find them ready to lay down their lives for his. Was there ever a more tender story than that of the Scottish henchman who went into battle with seven tall sons, and who placed one after another before his chief to shield him, and shouted out, as each fell, "another for Hector," till the whole seven died at the behest of the loyal old man? Were they taught to shun home as a sham, or a prison, or as something unpleasant ? Did they not rather love it, though rough and rude as Lord Lovat's barbarous hold, as the abode of truth and love, kindliness, openness, and honesty, where smiles were plentiful, and tears were wiped away, and hearts were strengthened, and father, mother, brothers, and sisters, formed a sheaf of arrows, which, when bound together, could not be injured by a giant, but if single could be broken by a II. THE VERY YOUNG CHILDREN. In his amusing volumes, "From Waterloo to the Peninsula," in which with infinite spirit, curious learning, and a fidelity which is almost photographic and completely marvellous, the traveller puts before us all that he has seen; the author gives us a picture of an orange tree blossoming in the neighbourhood of the Escorial which we shall quote. And when we say that the traveller shows us "all that he has seen," we must accord to him the rarest faculty of observation, and the capacity of picking up more in ten minutes than an ordinary traveller would in ten days. Each of us has some gift. A boy we knew had the singular faculty of getting, in a wonderfully short space of time, all the meat out of the many thin legs of a lobster—a feat which drives most of us to the verge of despair; and certainly Mr. Sala has the faculty of getting more out of any given country or scene than most people. But to the picture :-"Here the oranges grow tame and the orange trees grow wild; at this instant they are flowering,—a heavenly sight to see. To behold an orange tree in full bloom, with its triple panoply of leaves, flowers, and fruit, is only equalled by that sight which is not to be seen out of England, that of a still young and beautiful woman with a little baby in her arms, and a grown-up daughter by her side. And for the life of you, you can't tell which of the three looks prettiest and comeliest." A true and pretty sentence is that, and only to be written by one who has looked upon small humanity with love; who has in his heart that fondness for children which most Englishmen have. The baby, the manikin, the homunculus, as we may choose to call it, rules the world; and yet in New York and Paris they tell us babies are going out of fashion; and in baby-loving England, too, there are certain classes who regard children as a bore. But baby rules the world for all that. He is the principal being, although the softest and the smallest. He does nothing,—cannot, for the most part, speak,—merely crows, and blows little bubbles from his tiny mouth,—an occupation in which he takes inconceivable pleasure; but yet his orders are obeyed, and his gentle tyranny most readily submitted to. Those little fists of his have never yet known how to black another's eyes, nor to beat a woman, except his mother; and yet his hand rules us, and we cannot escape from him. Neither has that hand yet been shut upon gold coin, nor has it carried a sceptre; nor has the round little head, covered with the silkiest hair, or bald as the skull two or three, lications, that young men men with a mental stoma unerring guid to be cant. assumption— kindness by miserable dilu པ, ཟླ e: what shall we say of it? Why, y goes the right way to bring up The sy," the young men smoke; on the hs; on the sly, they do worse Ta new th The old proverb says that badly." Why? Because surfeited with severe religion— on of Christ, who was himself * te um ^ nges of such severe men. In one of emon warm he begins quaintly 'ma Kired, Sybil Kindred's sire, We had de gh, and look'd six inches higher," *her of Nature shows how the sternness of the ・ ・ my dad Absalom—a fair, beautiful body whence the |