{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8156/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8156","id":"gutenberg_8156","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8156","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Teaching & Education","Creation -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"E-text prepared by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders\n\n\n\nTWILIGHT AND DAWN\n\nOR\n\nSIMPLE TALKS ON THE SIX DAYS OF CREATION\n\nby\n\nCaroline Pridham\n\n(Mrs. L. G. Wait)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\"KNOWN UNTO GOD ARE ALL HIS WORKS FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE WORLD.\"\n\n\"THE LORD SHALL REJOICE IN HIS WORKS.\"\n\n\"HIS TENDER MERCIES ARE OVER ALL HIS WORKS.\"\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nGOD'S BOOK\n\n\"IN THE BEGINNING\": CREATION\n\nRUIN AND DARKNESS\n\nFIRST DAY. LIGHT\n\nSECOND DAY. THE OCEAN OF AIR\n\nTHIRD DAY. THE WORLD OF WATER\n\n  \"    \"   THE EARTH BENEATH\n\n  \"    \"   THE GREEN EARTH\n\nFOURTH DAY. SUN, MOON, AND STARS\n\n            STORY OF A DEAF BOY WHO HEARD THE SUN PROCLAIM THE GLORY OF GOD\n\n            THE STONE BOOK\n\nFIFTH DAY. \"THE MOVING CREATURE THAT HATH LIFE\"\n\n  \"    \"   \"FOWL OF THE AIR, AND FISH OF THE SEA\"\n\n  \"    \"   FLYING FOWL\n\n  \"    \"   CREEPING THINGS\n\nSIXTH DAY. THE ANIMAL WORLD\n\n  \"    \"   THE CROWN OF GOD'S CREATION\n\n\n\n\n  \"Everywhere, everywhere\n    A tale is told to me--\n  It is told in the sunny air,\n    It is told on the sparkling sea.\n\n  \"It is told in the forest brakes,\n    It is told on the purple hills,\n  By the silent mountain lakes,\n    By the singing and leaping rills.\n\n  \"In the meadows that stretch away\n    As a sea of golden green,\n  With hedges of sweet white may\n    And the reedy brooks between.\n\n  \"Where I wander and run and rest,\n    The tale is told to me,\n  The sweetest tale and the best\n    Of all the tales that be.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  \"The tale is the tale of Jesus;\n    It is told in heaven above,\n  On the sea and the moors and the mountains,\n    In language of all the peoples,\n         The speech of love.\n\n  \"The morning star and the dayspring,\n    The sun and the cloud and the shower,\n  The grass and the rose and the cedar,\n    His glory and love are telling\n         From hour to hour.\n\n  \"The birds in the green wood singing,\n    The sea that is wide and deep,\n  The sheep in the folds of the mountains,\n    The corn in the golden valleys,\n         And all beside.\n\n  \"All round me are glorious pictures\n    Of him who has made them fair;\n  Through the long bright day I can see Him,\n    And I fear not the silent darkness,\n         For He is there,\"\n\n--FRANCES BEVAN.\n\nTaken, by permission, from _Hymns by Ter Steegen and Others_ Second series.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY.\n\nTen years have passed since this book was first published, and in issuing a\nthird edition it seems desirable to say a few words as to the object with\nwhich it was written, and to explain why some additions and alterations\nhave been made.\n\nThe earlier chapters remain pretty much as they were, but the latter have\nbeen recast; and the writer's original endeavour to show that the Story of\nCreation is not the Story of Evolution, as set forth in many attractive but\nmisleading books for the young, has been more constantly kept in view.\n\nIt is hoped that by this means the end sought may be better reached, and\nthat the young readers may be furnished with the truth before they meet\nwith false teaching on this important point. The mind which has been\ncarefully grounded in what is true may confidently be expected to detect\nand refuse what is erroneous, however fair may be its show; and if the need\nfor early training on the lines marked out for us in Scripture was apparent\nsome years ago, how much more imperative is it now, when the authority of\nGod and of His Word is questioned on every hand?\n\nIt has been argued, with some reason, that the early chapters of these\n\"Simple Talks\" are \"too childish\" when compared with the latter part of the\nbook; but it may be said in excuse for this seeming inconsistency that the\nwish of the writer was to furnish assistance to mothers and those who train\nyoung children. She therefore began at the beginning, intending the early\nchapters to be read aloud, with additions and omissions, as the young\nlisteners were \"able to bear.\" These chapters, therefore, are full of\nrepetitions, of which the young mind does not weary, but which are\nnecessary as long as it can only receive \"here a little and there a\nlittle,\" without overstrain.\n\nThe later chapters will be found more suited to children of larger growth,\nwho will be able to enjoy reading for themselves, without needing the \"line\nupon line and precept upon precept,\" apart from which it is vain to attempt\nto teach the little ones.\n\nHow imperfectly the work is done will be manifest to those who know\nanything of the subjects, which are touched upon rather than explained. The\ndifficulty of deciding how much to tell, and how much to leave untold, has\nsometimes made the writer's task seem an almost impossible one; but she has\ntaken courage to go on by remembering a wise saying--that if we shrink from\nattempting any little work which comes in our way from the fear of making\nmistakes, it is easy to make the great mistake of doing nothing at all.\n\nIf what has been a labour of love to the writer should be of some interest\nand profit to readers, young or old, that labour will be amply repaid.\n\nThe book is now sent forth again, with prayer that He who said, \"Suffer the\nchildren to come unto Me,\" and who \"took them up in His arms, put His hands\non them, and blessed them,\" may be pleased to use it in His service and for\nHis glory.\n\nEVESHAM.\n\n\n\n\nTWILIGHT AND DAWN.\n\nGOD'S BOOK.\n\n\n\"_As the cold of snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to\nthem that send him: for he refresheth the soul of his masters._\"--PROVERBS\nxxv. 13.\n\n\"_The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried in a furnace of\nearth, purified seven times._\"--PSALM xii. 6.\n\n\nI wonder whether you are as fond of asking questions as I was long ago--so\nfond that I did not mind asking them when I well knew I could get no\nanswers, because I spoke to things, not to people who could speak to me\nagain?\n\nStill, if any mere thing could be supposed capable of answering for itself,\nI think a book might; and so perhaps as you take this book of mine into\nyour hand, and run away to some quiet place to have a look at it, you may\nbe taking it into your confidence, and asking it some such questions as\nthese:\n\n(_a_) What are you all about? Are you a lesson-book?\n\n(_b_) Have you any stories--real stories, not made-up ones?\n\n(_c_) Any pictures?\n\n(_d_) I wonder whether I shall like you? Does the person who made you like\nchildren, and know the sort of things they care for?\n\nNow before you put any more questions to my book, I will answer for it; and\nthat we may not miss any, we will call them questions (_a_), (_b_), (_c_),\n(_d_), and answer one at a time.\n\nYour first question (_a_)--the first part of it at least--is what grown\npeople as well as children have a right to ask of a book; and it would be a\npoor thing for the book to answer, \"Oh, I am about nothing in particular! I\ncan't quite tell you why I was written.\" But most books are about something\nin particular, and what that is you can best find out by reading them right\nthrough; for many people miss their way in a book by beginning at the end\nand travelling backwards, or beginning about the middle, and not knowing\nwhether to go backwards or forwards. So you see I want you to find out for\nyourself the answer to question (_a_), only I will just say that the book\nis mostly about your own dwelling-place. I do not mean your body, though\nthat is, in one sense, your dwelling-place; neither do I mean your own\nhome, nor even that part of England where you were born. By your own\ndwelling-place I mean this wonderful world which you see all around you,\nwhere God has made so much for you to see and enjoy; and learn about too,\nthat you may use and enjoy it better.\n\n[Illustration: GOOD-BYE TO THE SWALLOWS]\n\nSo you will find in this book something about the firm ground upon which\nyou trod as soon as you were old enough to run about the fields and pick\nthe daisies. Something too about the blue sky, where the lark sings and the\nswallows fly; and the great wide sea, where the fishes live; and a little\nabout what the Bible tells us of how all that you see around you came to\nbe; long, long ago, when everything was quite new and beautiful, and God\nsaid that all that He had made was \"very good.\"\n\n\"Then it is a lesson-book?\" I hear you say.\n\nYes, in one way, and yet not quite all lessons, for you will find some\nstories here too.\n\nAnd now I must answer the (_b_) question about these same stories, for I\nwant you to know, before you begin to read them, that they are all true,\nand there is no pretending or making-up about them.\n\nQuestion (_c_), about the pictures, you can soon answer for yourself; so\nnow I have only the (_d_) question to answer, and I can only say for my\nbook, that I do not know whether or not you will care for it; but I do know\nthat the person who made it loves children, and very much likes teaching\nthem and talking to them. And that you may better understand that I know\nsomething about children, I will explain that, though I am only talking\nto you just now, I shall tell you in this book the very same things which\nI told to some children who came every morning to do their lessons at my\nhouse, three or four years ago--at least, I will write down for you all I\ncan remember of the talks these children and I had together, and I will\ntell you the same true stories which I told them. I used to ask them to\ngive me their ears, and I must ask you to give me your eyes; for writing is\ndifferent from talking, is it not? You cannot look up in my face and ask me\nquestions as my children did; and when I ask you a question, I cannot hear\nyou answer, but am obliged to fancy what you would be likely to say. Still,\nI think we shall be friends, and get to know each other a little, even by\nmeans of this dumb-show talk, as I speak to you with my hand and you listen\nto me with your eyes.\n\nAnd now I want to tell you about my children. It was a beautiful morning in\nSeptember when I opened the schoolroom door, and found them, all the seven,\nsitting round the table, waiting to begin school again, for the long summer\nholidays were over. I was afraid they would think it rather hard to sit\nstill and do lessons, especially when the sun was shining brightly and it\nwas as pleasant a day as could be out of doors; but as I looked at their\nbright faces, I thought they did not seem as if they minded coming back to\nschool so very much after all.\n\nI wonder what you feel like, when the holidays are over and your little\nwork-a-day world begins again? Does it seem too bad to be true? or are you\njust a tiny bit glad to have something that you really must do, instead\nof all play and no work? Do you know--and you remember I told you I knew\nchildren pretty well--I have actually met with girls, and boys too, who\nhave sometimes, especially on a very wet day in the holidays, found this\ndelightful having nothing to do all day long harder work than the most\ndifficult of their lessons?\n\nAnd now for the names of my children. You would like to know them, would\nyou not? for they are real boys and girls, not children in a story book.\n\nMy eldest boy was Ernest, and he sat at the bottom of the table, opposite\nthe place where I always sat, and where someone had put a chair for me.\nNext in age came Charlotte, Ernest's sister; and then Chrissie, the elder\nbrother of Eustace and Dick. I put Sharley and Chrissie together, because\nthey were both ten years old and did most of their lessons out of the same\nbooks. Next came another little pair: May, Ernest's younger sister, and\nEustace. Last of all, the little ones: Ernest's youngest brother, Leslie,\nand Chrissie's youngest brother, Dick. These little boys were only six\nyears old.\n\nNow that you know the ages of my children you will be able to tell whether\nany of them were about your own age; perhaps you may be older than Chrissie\nand Sharley, or even Ernest, who was nearly twelve, but I am quite sure\nthat if you are younger than any of my elder children, you will be able to\nunderstand some of the lessons which we had from the Bible every morning.\n\nBefore the holidays we had been reading in the New Testament, and had\nfinished the Acts of the Apostles; and it was settled that when they came\nback to school we should read some of the Old Testament, and begin at the\nbeginning. The children remembered this, and were just going to open their\nBibles and find the first chapter of Genesis, when I said that I should\nlike to ask them one question before a word was read.\n\nI should like you, too, to think about it, and try to give an answer; for\nmy question--\n\n  Why is the Bible different from any other book?\n\nconcerns you as well as the children of whom I asked it.\n\nThey all said at once that the Bible is different from every other book in\nthe world because it is God's Book. Yes, that is the great difference; the\nBible is God's own Book, in which He has spoken to us His own words, and it\nis the only Book in the world which tells us all the truth.\n\nHow wonderful it is to think of this, that every child who can read, and\nhas a little Bible of his own, can learn what God has said!\n\nWill you try to remember when you open that beautiful Bible, which was\ngiven you on your birthday, that there God is speaking--speaking to you\njust as much as if you were the only person in the world?\n\nIf you think of this it will make you very still and quiet, that you may\nhear what He says to you.\n\nWhen we say that God has spoken to us, we mean that long ago He told those\nholy men whom He allowed to write His Book exactly how He would have them\nwrite. When you read in your Bible, you do not read what Moses and David\nwrote out of their own minds. God gave them His words to write for Him, so\nthat we might know for certain, not what they thought God meant them to\nsay, but what He really did say.\n\nDo you understand this?\n\nPerhaps not quite; so I will tell you a story to make it plainer.\n\nI know a boy who is very fond of running errands, and a very useful boy\nhe is. If I give him a message he is off like a shot, and back again with\nthe answer almost before I know that he has gone. So willing and quick a\nmessenger is Willie, that it is a pleasure to send him anywhere.\n\nBut there is just one thing that has sometimes hindered him from being a\nreally good messenger. Can you guess what it is? You will soon find out\nif you remember that, besides being willing and quick, a messenger must\ndeliver the exact message entrusted to him. He must give it just as it was\ngiven to him if he would deliver it faithfully.\n\nNow Willie prefers to give his messages in his own way, and so, although\nhe is willing and quick, he cannot always be relied on as a faithful\nmessenger.\n\nOne day, when his mother said \"Willie, run to the nursery and give Nurse a\nmessage for me,\" the little boy hardly waited to hear what the message was,\nbut ran upstairs as fast as his feet could carry him. Very quickly back he\ncame and went on with his play--I think he was just then building a fine\nhouse with wooden bricks. Now, as the message was an important one, his\nmother wished to be quite sure that it had been correctly delivered; so\npresently she said, \"What did Willie say to Nurse?\"\n\n\"The right thing,\" said he, going on with his building, quite unconscious\nthat this was not enough for his mother, who must know exactly what Willie\nhad told Nurse, or go upstairs to see whether she was doing what she had\ndesired her to do.\n\nYou understand now, I am sure, that we could not be quite certain that we\nhad God's message--and the Bible is a message or letter from God to us--we\ncould not be sure that we had it right, if we did not know that He had\ngiven it to us in His own way and in His own words.\n\nSo, then, our question is answered. The Bible is different from any other\nbook because it is God's Book, in which He speaks to us. Now I am going to\nask you one more question.\n\nIf it is God who is speaking, and if He speaks to you, what must you do?\n\nYou must listen, not only with your eyes, when you read the words, or with\nyour ears, when someone reads to you, but with your heart.\n\nDo you remember what we are told in the Bible about a child to whom God\nonce spoke? It was in the night that this boy heard God's voice calling\nhim by his own name--the name which his mother had given him when he was a\nbaby. Samuel had never heard the voice of God before, and he did not know\nwho was speaking to him in the quiet night.\n\nBut he did what he was told to do by one who knew that God was calling\nhim, and the next time the voice came he answered, \"Speak, for Thy servant\nheareth.\"\n\nThen, when God spoke again, he listened to the message which God gave him\nto give for Him.\n\nHow near God was to this child!\n\nYes, He was very near to Samuel as he slept; but He is as near to you, as\nyou lie in your own bed at home. He keeps you safely all through the dark\nnight: when you cannot even think about yourself He thinks about you and\ncares for you; and He speaks to you by His Holy Word just as much as if He\ncalled you by your own name.\n\nDo not forget that it is really true that when you take God's Book into\nyour hands, and open it, and listen with your heart, God is near you and\nspeaks to you, your own self. For this reason, when we read the Bible,\nas the children said, \"We must attend, or we shall not know what God has\nsaid.\"\n\nAnd for another reason, too, we must attend: that is, because it is God who\nis speaking.\n\nGod's Word is the only thing in this world that is quite sure; but it is,\nbecause it has come straight from Him, and He is the God of truth.\n\nGod's Word can never pass away; for He has said that it endures for ever.\n\nGod's Word can speak, even to a child, and can make that child \"wise unto\nsalvation, through faith which is in Christ Jesus.\"\n\nFor it is of Jesus, the Son of God, that God has spoken to us in His book.\n\nI think you will like this poem, which speaks of a time when the Bible was\nnot only a rare, but in most countries a forbidden book, bought in secret,\nand read in fear by those to whom it became all the more precious because\nit cost them so dear. We are told that at this time the actual cost of a\nBible was \u00a330, and that the wages of a labouring man were only 1-1/2d. a\nday; so that he would have to work fifteen years to pay for one copy of the\nWord of God!\n\n\n\"THE VAUDOIS TEACHER.\n\n  \"'Oh, lady fair, these silks of mine\n    Are beautiful and rare;\n  The richest web of the Indian loom,\n    Which beauty's queen might wear.\n  And my pearls are pure as thine own fair neck,\n    With whose radiant light they vie;\n  I have brought them with me a weary way--\n    Will my gentle lady buy?'\n\n  \"And the lady smiled on the worn old man\n    Through the dark and clustering curls\n  Which veiled her brow, as she bent to view\n    His silks and glittering pearls;\n  And she placed their price in the old man's hand,\n    And lightly turned away;\n  But she paused at the wanderer's earnest call--\n    'My gentle lady, stay!'\n\n  \"'Oh, lady fair, I have yet a gem\n    Which a purer lustre flings\n  Than the diamond flash of the jewelled crown\n    On the lofty brow of kings:\n  A wonderful pearl of exceeding price,\n    Whose virtue shall not decay;\n  Whose light shall be as a spell to thee,\n    And a blessing on thy way!'\n\n  \"The lady glanced at the mirroring steel,\n    Where her form of grace was seen,\n  Where her eye shone clear and her dark locks waved\n    Their clasping pearls between--\n  'Bring forth thy pearl of exceeding worth,\n    Thou traveller grey and old;\n  Then name the price of thy precious gem,\n    And my page shall count the gold.'\n\n  \"The cloud went off from the pilgrim's brow,\n    As a small and meagre book,\n  Unchased with gold or gem of cost,\n    Prom his folding robe he took;\n  'Here, lady fair, is the pearl of price:\n    May it prove as such to thee;\n  Nay, keep thy gold; I ask it not,\n    For the Word of God is free.'\n\n  \"The hoary traveller went his way,\n    But the gift he left behind\n  Hath had its pure and perfect work\n    On that high-born maiden's mind;\n  And she hath turned from the pride of sin\n    To the lowliness of truth,\n  And given her human heart to God\n    In its beautiful hour of youth.\"\n\nJ. G. WHITTIER\n\n\n\n\n\"IN THE BEGINNING\": CREATION\n\n\n\"_Thou, Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth; and\nthe heavens are the works of Thine hands: they shall perish; but Thou\nremainest._\"--HEBREWS i. 10.\n\n\nTo-day let us talk a little about the very first words which God has\nspoken to us in His Book. You would like to find them in your own Bible, I\ndaresay.\n\n\"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.\"\n\nAnd we will find one other verse, because it is the first verse of a\nchapter which also speaks of \"the beginning.\"\n\n\"Doth not wisdom cry? and understanding put forth her voice?\" (Prov. viii.\n1).\n\nNow that we have read these verses; I must tell you that Ernest and Chris\nand Charlotte and May used each to learn a verse for me every day, and say\nthem in turn; indeed, they usually said two verses, for I liked them always\nto repeat along with the new verse the one they had said the day before, in\norder that they might not forget it. I am glad to tell you that the verses\nwere generally learned so perfectly, and repeated so distinctly, that it\nwas quite a pleasure to hear them; for even little May knew that if we\nrepeat anything from God's Book we must be careful not to put in any words\nof our own. If we did, we should be like Willie, giving the message in our\nown way, should we not? Then, every one of God's words must be remembered,\nand none left out; not even a little word like \"and\" or \"the,\" which\nperhaps would not very much matter if we were repeating merely what men had\nsaid.\n\nPerhaps you may think this chapter about Wisdom was a difficult chapter for\nmy boys and girls to learn, and not so interesting as some of those which\nyou know. I will tell you the reason why I especially wished them to learn\nit; but I will first ask you to find in the New Testament three verses\nwhich also tell us of \"the beginning\"--\n\n\"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was\nGod.\n\n\"The same was in the beginning with God.\n\n\"All things were made by Him; and without Him was not anything made that\nwas made\" (John i. 1-3).\n\nThe \"Word\" is one of the names of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a beautiful\nand wonderful name. Suppose you have been playing with something that has\nmade your hands very dirty, and mother says, \"Come to me, dear, and I will\nmake them clean.\" Through mother's words you know what is in her heart; you\nknow that she loves you, and wants you to be with her, and fit to be with\nher. So it is through the Word, the One who was with God in the beginning,\nthe One by whom everything was made, that God has spoken to us so that we\nmay know His thoughts about sin, which made us unfit to be with Him, and\nHis feelings towards the men and women in the world, who are His creatures,\nand yet have tried to find happiness away from Him. But it was because the\nchapter, which my elder scholars were learning, speaks of the Lord Jesus by\nanother wonderful and beautiful name that I wished them to learn it. He is\ncalled \"Wisdom\" not only in the Old Testament, where we are told in other\nverses of the same chapter (Prov. viii.) that He was \"from the beginning\"\nwith God (vv. 22-31), but also in a letter which the apostle Paul wrote to\nsome clever people who lived in Greece long ago he speaks of Him as \"the\npower of God and the wisdom of God\" (1 Cor. i. 24).\n\nI can remember that we had a good deal of talk after we had read the verse,\n\"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth\"--those few words,\nso quickly read, in which God has told us what the wisest man of all the\nwise men who ever lived could not have found out for us; for God alone can\nspeak about what He did so very long ago, before the sun shone, or the\ngrass and the trees grew, or the birds sang in the branches, or lambs\nplayed in the fields.\n\nDid you ever think, as you watched the great sun going down behind the\ncrimson clouds, that there was a day, long, long ago, when that sun, in all\nits glory, set for the first time?\n\nI daresay you never thought of the beginning of the sun, or of the first\ntime that it set, but were just pleased to see the sky so red and glowing,\nand sorry when the beautiful sunset colours faded and the clouds became\ncold and grey.\n\nOr perhaps, as you have shaded your eyes from his noonday splendour, you\nmay have remembered that it was God in heaven who made that wonderful sun\nto light up the sky, and that he has been shining down upon this earth ever\nsince; but did you ever stop to ask such a question as this--\n\nHow long has that great sun, which is now above my head, been shining in\nthe sky? Or, again, as he passed in glory out of sight, How many beautiful\nsunsets have there been since he first began to \"rule the day\" and to rise\nin the east and set in the west?\n\nAh! so long a time that no thought of ours could measure it; so many\nsunsets that we could never count them. All we can know about it is that\nthere was a time, long, long ago, when the sun first set and a time when he\nrose upon the earth, which was then so beautiful--fresh from the hand of\nGod.\n\nThis world of ours is a very old world, but there was a time when all was\nnew; not only the sun and moon, but all that you see around you had a\nbeginning--a birthday. There was a time when no such things were, and there\nwas a time when they began to be. Now it is about this beginning that I\nwant you to think a little.\n\n[Illustration: \"HOW PLEASANT THE LIFE OF A BIRD MUST BE!\"]\n\nAs we open our eyes to-morrow morning and see the light come in at the\nwindow, let us thank God that He has made His sun to shine upon us, to send\naway the darkness and bring a new day. And as the light grows and grows,\nand we lie awake and listen to the morning songs of the thrushes and\nblackbirds and the chatter of the sparrows, do not let us forget that God\ngave its own sweet note to every one of those warblers, and that the air\nhas been full of the songs of birds ever since the day, so long ago, when\nthe first little lark flew up, up, up into the blue sky and sang its first\nsong, so full of gladness. Then, as the pleasant sound of the lambs,\nbleating after their mothers, comes to us from the fields, let us remember\nthere was a day when that sound, which you know so well, was heard for\nthe first time; and as we go for our walk and look around us at the green\nfields and the trees with their leaves and blossoms, and then far away to\nwhere the strong mountains lift their heads against the sky, let us say to\nourselves, \"All these things, which seem as if they had been there always,\nhad a beginning; there was a time when there were none of them, and then\nthere came a time when they were there, for God had made them to be.\"\n\nWhile we were talking about this, the elder children and I, the little boys\nwere very quiet; but I was afraid it was all rather difficult for them,\nso I asked Leslie and Dick to tell me what we mean when we speak of the\nbeginning of anything.\n\nI forget whether I got the answer from them or from one of the elder ones,\nbut I know I thought it a good answer when somebody said, \"The beginning of\na thing is the first of it.\"\n\nThen we spoke about the beginning of the table at which we were sitting--I\nsuppose we chose that to talk about because it was so close to us--how it\nwas made of wood, and the wood was once a tree; and if it was an oak, that\ngiant tree must have been long, long ago only a tiny acorn in its pretty\ngreen cup. Each of those children, too, as they sat round the table, had\nhad a beginning. Have you ever thought of this? There was a time, not so\nvery long ago, and yet you cannot remember it, when your life had not\nbegun. And then your birthday came, the first of all the birthdays; that\nday when your dear father and mother thanked God for giving you to them to\nlove and take care of, and everyone at home was so glad because God had\nsent a little child to the house; someone who had never been there before.\n\nJust think, you were that little child; only a tiny thing, but as you\nopened your baby eyes to the light, and stretched out your little clasping\nfingers, your first cry, and every movement of your little body, showed\nthat you were alive. Then, by-and-by, the nurse said, \"Hush, baby is\nasleep!\" and everyone moved about softly, so as not to wake the little\ncreature, who had not been there yesterday, the baby whose life had just\nbegun, the little traveller who had just started on its journey through\ntime to the great eternity beyond.\n\nBut you knew nothing about this; only your mother knew, as she watched you\nin your sleep, that one more tiny vessel had been launched upon that stream\nwhich flows on, on, till it meets the ocean which has no shore--the time\nwhich never ends.\n\nI remember, a very long time ago, how fond I used to be of making boats.\nNot far from where I lived a real ship was being built, and I used to watch\nhow it was made, and think that when I grew up I should like above all\nthings to be a shipwright, for I had heard someone say that was the name of\nthe man who was building this beautiful vessel. Of course, the boats which\nmy brother and I used to make were only toy boats--we generally made them\nof paper--but however small they were, we were very particular to give each\nof them at least three tall masts. Then, when it came to sailing them,\nwe had to be content with any water we could find, and generally these\nthree-masted vessels made very short voyages, from one side of a big tub to\nthe other; and though, by rocking the tub, we used to manage to make pretty\nstormy weather for them, they generally reached the end of their voyage in\nsafety. It was quite another thing when we set our vessels afloat upon what\nwe thought a real river, like the Thames or the Severn; but it was only a\nbrown stream, which, ran along the bottom of a meadow, and was crossed, not\nby a bridge, but by stepping-stones. Sometimes, on a lovely day in June, we\nwere allowed to go down to our river, and we used to sit for hours among\nthe flags which grew beside it, hidden by the tall reeds and the yellow\nflowers, making little green boats out of the broad leaves of the flags,\nwhile the sound of \"Cuckoo, cuckoo\" came from the orchard close by.\n\nWhen we had made as many boats as we could carry, each with a curly-whirly\nbit of a leaf for its sail, we used to balance ourselves carefully on the\nstones--for we knew that if we got wet we should not be allowed to go to\nour river again--and launch our little fleet, one by one, on the brown\nwater, and then eagerly watch each green vessel upon its course. We wanted\nthem to sail across to the other side; but I need not tell you that the\nriver water was very far from being so calm as the water in the tub, and I\ndo not think many got safely over.\n\nOne little boat would start off very straight, and then suddenly stop\nbecause it had run against some hidden rock; the greater number, in spite\nof all our efforts to steer them, would get into the current, and so be\ncarried down the stream out of our sight; while some at once turned on\ntheir sides, got filled with water, and became dismal wrecks.\n\nI can remember well how happy we were in spite of all such disasters and\nlosses!\n\nBut we should have been surprised indeed in those days if anyone had told\nus, as we launched our boats, and watched them sail away from land--to\n\"America\" or \"India,\" or any of those far-away places where we used to\npretend they were going--that we were like those boats of ours. And yet it\nwould have been true, for we too had been launched; the voyage of life had\nbegun for us; and every birthday that came found us a little farther from\nthe place from whence we had started--a little nearer to the end of the\nvoyage, the place whither we were bound. Yes, in this sense you and I and\nall the people in the world are voyagers on the stream of time. But this\nvoyage of our life--how long will it be?\n\nThat is one of the things which no one can tell. God alone knows.\n\nIn one sense the story of your life may be soon told; your little voyage\ndown the stream of time may be very short, and your boat may reach the\ngreat ocean of eternity before many birthdays have come and gone. But in\nanother sense it is a story without an end; and this is what makes your\nbeginning such a great thing to think of. It is a beginning which has no\nend; the part of you which is most really yourself, must live on always.\nYou can never stop living for one moment; for there is on board your little\nboat a wonderful passenger. God has put into you a living soul, which can\nnever die.\n\nBut how soon God may call that soul back to Himself, away from the body,\nwhere it lives now, who can tell?\n\nI am just now thinking of some young voyagers whose passage from time to\neternity was indeed short, but the story is so sad that I could not tell\nyou about it if I did not remember what the Lord Jesus once said, when He\nwas teaching His disciples. He called a little child to Him, and began\nto speak to them about such little children, and one of the things which\nHe said was this, \"The Son of man is come to save that which was lost\"\n(Matt. xviii. 11). And again He said (you will find this verse in the same\nchapter), \"It is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one\nof these little ones should perish.\"\n\nSince even the very little children have gone astray from God, so that the\nLord Jesus spoke of them as \"lost\" and \"perishing,\" how could I tell you\nthis story, if the Lord from heaven, He who called Himself the \"Son of man\"\nwhen He was here in this world, had not come to save that which was lost?\n\nThis is the sad, true story:\n\nIt was on a beautiful Monday morning, in the bright June weather, that the\nscholars belonging to a large Sunday-school in Ireland were travelling with\ntheir teachers and friends from the town where they lived to spend the day\nat a lovely place by the seaside. How proud and happy they were, all these\nboys and girls, as they marched through the town waving their flags and\nsinging, and how much they had to say about the grand time they were going\nto have! You may be sure they liked a long holiday out of doors, with games\nand races, and buns and oranges, as much as you do, and so they got into\nthe train in high glee.\n\nBut that train never reached the lovely place at the seaside. Before it\nhad gone very far on its way there was a dreadful accident; some of the\ncarriages were crushed and broken, as if they had been matchboxes, and\nmany of those bright boys and girls were killed all in a moment--the short\nvoyage of their life was over; oh, how soon! By-and-by some doctors came\nhurrying to the place where the ruined train lay, and began to look about\nto find those who might not be dead, only hurt. It was a sad sight they\nsaw, and one they can never forget. While they were busy, giving help here\nand there, someone noticed two little ones, sitting on the green bank,\nbeside the wreck of the train. A doctor went up to see if they were hurt.\nNo, they were picking the daisies which grew among the grass; they were too\nyoung to understand what a dreadful thing had happened.\n\n\"Were you in the train, my dears?\" said the kind doctor.\n\n\"Yes,\" said a little girl of six years old, \"we were in the train, and she\nwas too,\" and she pointed to where another child lay quite still upon the\ngrass; not picking daisies--no, she could not speak or move, she was dead.\n\nPut your finger on your wrist, and keep very still for a moment. Listen.\nYou feel something, do you not? Something alive, and it goes beat, beat;\none, two, three, like the ticking of a watch. As long as you live, that\ntick, tick will go on; but for this little girl it had stopped, because her\nheart had ceased to beat. When the doctor put his hand upon her wrist, he\ncould feel nothing moving there. \"She is quite dead,\" he said, as he took\nher body up from the grass that it might be carried back to her home, the\nhome which she had left that morning, so happy and gay.\n\nAt the Sunday-school these children had been taught about the \"wondrous,\nglorious Saviour,\" of whom you sometimes sing, and we may believe that the\nspirit of this dear child, redeemed to God by the precious blood of Christ,\nwent straight from that wrecked train to spend its long for ever with the\nOne who had loved her and given Himself for her; and that God, who takes\ncare of the poor little body which was laid low in the grave with many a\nsad tear, will raise it in glory, one day, when \"death is swallowed up in\nvictory.\"\n\nBut there were not only very little children in that wrecked train. We are\ntold of a boy who was terribly hurt, but lived an hour after the crash\ncame. As he lay by the wayside, a young girl with a pitiful heart came and\nknelt beside him.\n\n\"I will pray you up to heaven,\" she whispered.\n\n\"I am going there!\" said the dying boy; \"Lord Jesus take me, I am ready.\"\n\nOf another his poor mother said--\n\n\"I asked him before he started--'Well, dear, have you committed yourself\nto your heavenly Father?' 'Yes, mother, I have,' he said. So I gave him\nmy blessing and sent him off, and that was the last time I ever saw him\nalive.\"\n\nThese boys did not think as they left their homes that morning that they\nwould never return, but they had learned to know the Lord Jesus Christ as\ntheir own Saviour, and so when danger and death came, they were ready to\nleave this world and go to Him: their boats were not wrecked; they sailed\nright into port.\n\nAnd now that we are coming to the end of our lesson for to-day, let us\n\"think back,\" and see if we can remember what it is all about, and then we\nwill mark the subjects (_a_), (_b_), (_c_), (_d_), to help us to keep them\nin mind.\n\nThe subjects were--\n\n(_a_) That very far away time which God speaks of as \"the beginning.\"\n\n(_b_) It is God alone who can tell us about this time.\n\n(_c_) God, who made all that has a beginning, Himself had no beginning.\nThis means that there never was a time, no matter how long ago, when God\nwas not. If you think back, back, even to the time when there was no sky,\nno earth, no great ocean, you can never come to a time when there was no\nGod.\n\n(_d_) \"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the\nWord was God. The same was in the beginning with God.\" The \"Word\" is one of\nthe names of the Lord Jesus Christ, who came to this world that He might\nshow us how very much God His Father loves us, and who could say, \"He that\nhath seen Me hath seen the Father.\"\n\nFor He who was once born a little child in this world and laid in the\nmanger at Bethlehem, and who grew up in the home of Joseph and Mary at\nNazareth, is the Same who was \"in the beginning with God,\" for He \"was\nGod.\"\n\nThis is what God has told us about His great Eternity, when Time, with its\ndays and weeks and months and years, had not begun.\n\n\n\"TIME AND ETERNITY.\n\n  \"How long sometimes a day appears!\n    And weeks, how long are they!\n  Months move as slow as if the years\n    Would never pass away.\n\n  \"It seems a long, long time ago\n    That I was taught to read;\n  And since I was a babe, I know\n    'Tis very long indeed.\n\n  \"Days, months, and years are passing by,\n    And soon will all be gone;\n  And day by day, as minutes fly,\n    Eternity comes on.\n\n  \"Days, months and years must have an end;\n    Eternity has none.\n  'Twill always have as long to spend\n    As when it first begun.\n\n  \"Great God! no finite mind can tell\n    How much a thing can be:\n  I only pray that I may dwell\n    That long, long time _with Thee_.\"\n\nJANE TAYLOR.\n\n\n\n\nRUIN AND DARKNESS.\n\n\n\"_Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word\nof God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do\nappear._\"--HEBREWS xi. 3.\n\n\"_Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did He in heaven, and in earth, in the\nseas, and all deep places._\"--PSALM cxxxv. 6.\n\n\nThere are three words which God has used to tell us about His work which we\ncall \"The Creation.\"\n\nWe read, \"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.\"\n\n\"And God made two great lights.\"\n\n\"And the Lord God formed man.\"\n\n\"Created,\" \"made,\" \"formed,\" these are the words; and it is of the first of\nthem we shall speak a little to-day.\n\nBefore my children came, I had been thinking how I could make it plain to\nthe little ones that there is a very great difference between being able\nto create and being able to make anything. It happened that when they came\nin they were all talking so fast, of something which had greatly delighted\nthem, that it was some time before I could find out what it was all about.\nAt last Sharley told me that as they were racing along with their hoops a\nstrange dog had followed them, and rubbed his nose against their hands,\nwanting to make friends with them.\n\n\"We are quite sure it is nobody's dog,\" she said; \"or at any rate it is\na dog that has lost its master, and has no home now. So after lessons we\nare going to call it, and get it to follow us home. It is waiting for us\noutside the door this minute.\"\n\n\"And I am going to make a kennel for it,\" said Ernest, who was very fond of\nsawing and hammering away in the shed behind, the house, and wished to be\na carpenter, when he grew up; \"at least, I am going to try, and I think I\ncan.\"\n\nI may as well tell you at once that this little stray dog soon got tired of\nwaiting, outside the door. When lessons were over, and the children went to\nlook, no doggie was to be found; and as they did not know his name it was\nnot easy to call him. I have no doubt he found his own master and his own\nhome again, and was much better off there than he would have been in the\nbest kennel Ernest could have made, with seven boys and girls to take him\nfor a walk every day.\n\nHowever that may be, I tell you of this dog because it was while Ernest was\ntalking about making a house for it that I was saying to myself, \"I wonder\nwhether this plan of Ernest's about making a kennel will help them to\nunderstand, what I so much want them to learn, about the difference which\nthere is between the words make and create.\"\n\nFirst of all I had to tell them not to talk any more just then, but to\nrepeat their verses. Then we read--more than once--for Leslie and Dick\nwould not have liked to miss their turn, and there were not enough verses\nfor each to read one--what God has told us in the first five verses of His\nbook.\n\n\"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.\n\n\"And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face\nof the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.\n\n\"And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.\n\n\"And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from\nthe darkness.\n\n\"And God called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night. And the\nevening and the morning were the first day.\"\n\nWhen we had finished I asked Chrissie what it means when we read that \"God\ncreated the heaven and the earth.\" Why is the word \"created\" used? Would\nany other word have done instead of that one?\n\nChrissie said no other word would do, because to create means to make out\nof nothing. He was right, was he not?\n\nThe next question was, \"Why is create a word which can never be used except\nwhen we are speaking of God?\"\n\nI don't know who answered, but someone gave the right reason--\"Because only\nGod can make a thing be when there was nothing before it; nothing to make\nit out of.\"\n\nThis seems quite plain, does it not? But do you know there was once a boy,\nwho did not believe that he could not create things until he had tried to\nmake something out of nothing, and found that only nothing came. He was\nquite sure he could create anything if he only told it to come; so at last\nhis teacher said, \"You had better try.\"\n\nHe was only a very little boy, so he thought he would try, and up he got\nand stood as straight as he could on his chair, while he said with a loud\nvoice, \"Fishes, be!\"\n\nPerhaps it was a good thing that this boy should thus prove for himself\nthat it is only God who can create anything; only God of whom it could be\nsaid, \"He spake, and it was done.\"\n\nI did not tell this little story to the children, but I said to Leslie,\n\"You heard Ernest say just now that he was going to make a kennel for your\nstray doggie; do you think he could make one?\" Leslie thought perhaps he\nmight if he worked very hard; and then I asked them all whether, if he\nworked very hard, day and night, for a long, long time, Ernest could create\na kennel?\n\n\"No, indeed he could not. He never could, no matter how hard he worked.\"\nEverybody was sure of this; for even little Dick quite understood that if\nthe cleverest and handiest boy in the world were told that he must make\na box, he could not even begin to make the commonest box unless he had\nsomething given him to make it out of, and something too to make it with.\n\"He would need wood,\" they said, \"and nails, and a hammer and saw; and if\nit were to be a nice box, to last long, he would want paint, and a lock and\nkey, and hinges; and if he wished everyone to know that it was his own box,\nhe must mark it with his name when it was finished.\"\n\nNow I am sure you quite understand that this word \"created,\" which you find\nin the very first verse of your Bible, is a word which you must not forget\nto notice whenever it is used, because it is a wonderful word, which can be\nused only in speaking of God, the Creator, and of the Son of God, by whom\nand for whom all the things that we can see, and all that we cannot see,\nwere created; and in whose power they stand together.\n\nNow I want you to read again very carefully the verses which we have read,\nand to notice that we have only one verse to tell us what God did at the\nbeginning; this one verse explains that it was then that He created the\nheaven and the earth. This is all that God has told us, and it is just what\nwe need to know; for how could we ever have found out by what means this\nearth of ours came into being, at the very first, if God had not been\npleased to tell us that He created it?\n\nBut what a happy thing it is just to listen to the account which God\nHimself gives us, telling how the heaven and the earth came into being!\n\nOne who simply receives God's word into his heart will understand more than\nthe cleverest man who ever lived, who tries by his own mind to search into\nthe beginning of things, and to account for all that we now see around us\nby any other way. We read, \"By faith we understand that the worlds were\nframed by the word of God.\" Faith does not wait till it sees, but believes\nwhat God says, because He says it. We may say that we cannot understand\nwhat creation is, but we can find rest for our restless thoughts by saying\n\"Yes\" to all that God has told us--and the very first line of His Book\nexplains all that we need to know about, how the heaven and the earth came\ninto being, when it tells us that God created them in the beginning.\n\nWe read next, \"And the earth was without form and void.\" We are not told in\nthe verse which follows anything more about the \"heaven\"; that means the\nvast universe of which our earth is but a tiny part; but of the earth we\nread two things which are very surprising, when we think of what it is like\nnow:\n\n\"Without form and void\"--what does that mean?\n\nAfter I had explained to the elder children that these words, which are\nused to describe the earth, mean that it was waste and desolate and without\norder, we looked for a verse in the New Testament which tells us that \"God\nis not the author of confusion\" (1 Cor. xiv. 33); and then we spoke about\nhow we can be quite sure that the earth, which is part of God's creation,\nwas not in disorder, not a waste and desolate place in the beginning; and\nwe found in the Old Testament this other verse:\n\n\"For thus saith the Lord that created the heavens; God Himself that formed\nthe earth and made it; He hath established it, He created it not in vain,\nHe formed it to be inhabited; I am the Lord; and there is none else\"\n(Isaiah xlv. 18).\n\nThe reason why we found this verse was because I wanted to show Sharley and\nChris and Ernest that there the same word is used about the earth as in the\nverse in Genesis of which we had just been speaking. The words \"in vain\"\nare the same which were there translated \"without form\" by the people who\nturned the Hebrew, in which most of the Old Testament was first written,\ninto English, that we might be able to read it. So you see how very\nimportant words are, and learn that when God tells us in one part of His\nBook that He created the earth not \"without form,\" and in another part\nthat it was (or became) \"without form,\" the state of the earth as it is\ndescribed in the second verse of the first chapter of Genesis was different\nfrom its condition when God created it in the beginning. Between these two\nverses, so close together in your Bible, ages upon ages may have run their\ncourse; a distance of time may have passed so great that we cannot measure\nit by any thoughts of ours.\n\nWhat happened between the time, which God calls \"the beginning,\" the time\nof the earth's creation, and that time when what He created had become\n\"waste and desolate,\" we do not know. What this earth was like, when God\nfirst created it, we do not know. How the plants and animals, which now lie\nburied deep beneath the ground upon which we tread, and shut up within the\nrocks, lived and died, we do not know. How confusion and desolation came,\nwe do not know. And why do we not know?\n\nBecause God has not told us. People have thought a great deal about it, and\nthey say that upon the earth itself may be read, as in a book, marks of\nthe many changes which it went through during that far, far away time; but\nwhat we have to remember is that God does not tell us anything about it in\nHis Book; it is with the days and weeks and years of Time and the \"from\neverlasting to everlasting\" of His great Eternity, about which He does\nspeak to us, that we have to do.\n\nGod speaks to us, the inhabitants of the earth, of what it concerns us to\nknow--and the first thing we learn about this earth upon which we live is\nthat it was created by Him.\n\nThe next thing that we learn is that the earth which He had \"formed to be\ninhabited\" was \"without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of\nthe deep.\" This was the state of the earth which God had created, when He\nbegan the work of His wonderful \"Days,\" and brought what had become a scene\nof desolation into order and beauty, a place prepared for men to dwell in.\n\nAnd now there is one more verse to find, because it speaks about those SIX\nDAYS in which God \"made\" (not \"created\") the heaven and the earth. \"In six\ndays the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is.\"\n(Exodus xx. 11.)\n\nHow wonderful it is, is it not? that God should tell us so much about His\nwork! He might have made everything in a moment, by one word, but He was\npleased to take all these \"Days,\" and to tell us about the wonderful things\nwhich he made upon each of them, and at the end of them all we read--\n\n\"And God saw everything that He had made, and, behold it was [not waste and\ndesolate any more, but] very good.\"\n\nI wish that I could look over your shoulder as you are reading, and ask you\nwhether there is anything you want to have explained. Ah, well! I cannot,\nand, perhaps, if I could I should not explain to you nearly so well as\nfather or mother would. Only be sure you ask questions, if there is\nanything you do not understand, that you may have it made plain to you.\n\nI once told my children about a little girl I knew, who very much wanted to\nknow things, but sometimes she went on ever so long without knowing, just\nbecause she was too proud to ask; she could not bear for people to find\nout that she did not know all that she thought a child of her age ought\nto know. But children of any age cannot know things without being taught,\nand so it came to pass that this child grew to be quite a big girl without\nknowing how to tell the time. Once, when her mother said, \"Run and tell\nme what o'clock it is,\" Lucy ran off as quickly as if she knew all about\nit, and then she stood at the foot of the stairs and looked at the clock,\nand wondered why one hand was still and the other moved, and how grown-up\npeople knew what time it was by just looking at their watches for half a\nminute. Before she had found out any of these puzzling things, all at once\nLucy heard her mother's voice calling, \"Lucy, Lucy,\" and she ran back to\nher in a great hurry.\n\nWhen asked why she had been so long, this poor, proud child made some\nexcuse. And then--I am ashamed to tell it, but it only shows what becomes\nof pretending to know, instead of asking to be taught--she told her mother\nwhat she guessed would be about the right time.\n\nHer mother never thought she had been deceiving her; but Lucy went back to\nher play with a very heavy heart, and a miserable feeling of how naughty\nshe had been, and how God knew all about it; and this was not the last time\nthat the wish to be thought clever--so clever as not to need to be taught\nlike other children, but to be able to find things out for herself--brought\nher into sad trouble.\n\nAfter having heard the story of Lucy and the clock, my children knew how\nmuch I like them to ask questions, and were sure that I would answer them\nif I could; and so Sharley asked me about something which she could not\nunderstand.\n\n\"When God created the heaven and the earth, did He create the angels too?\"\nshe said. \"Were there angels in the beginning?\"\n\nNow the first part of Sharley's question I could not answer. I could only\nsay about it, \"We do not know, because God has not told us.\"\n\nRemember always, that when God does tell you a thing you must believe it,\njust because it is God who has said it; and it is only by believing what\nGod tells you that you can understand it. But when you are quite sure that\nGod has not told you about something which you would like to know, you must\nnever try to guess at it, or make up something about it out of your own\nhead. Our thoughts and fancies may seem very pretty, and please us very\nmuch; but we are quite sure to be wrong when we try to peep at what God has\nnot shown us in the wonderful glass of His word.\n\nBut there is an answer to the last part of Sharley's question, and she\nfound it in the Book of Job. When God was taking a great deal of pains to\nteach Job not to think himself wise or good--really not to think of himself\nat all--He asked him a great many questions which Job could not answer.\nThis was one of the questions: \"Where wast thou when I laid the foundations\nof the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding.... When the morning\nstars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?\" (Job\nxxxviii. 4-7).\n\nFrom this question, which the Lord asked Job, we know that at the world's\nbirthday, when its foundations were laid, angels were there, rejoicing in\nGod's works, though we do not know when these \"sons of God\" were created.\n\nAngels are happy, blessed creatures; they are God's messengers, who \"excel\nin strength and do His commandments, hearkening unto the voice of His\nword.\"\n\nAll we are told about angels is very beautiful. When the Lord Jesus was\nborn, you know it was an angel who brought to the shepherds of Bethlehem,\nas they watched their flocks, the \"good tidings of great joy,\" that to them\nwas born a Saviour, Christ the Lord. How glad he must have been to fly with\nsuch a wonderful message! And how the \"multitude of the heavenly host\" must\nhave rejoiced as they praised God, saying, \"Glory to God in the highest,\nand on earth peace, good will toward men\" (Luke ii. 14).\n\nIt is beautiful to see that angels rejoiced at the world's birthday, and\nalso at the birth of Him who is the Saviour of the world. And there is \"joy\nin the presence of the angels of God\"--the Lord Jesus Himself has told us\nof this--whenever anyone is sorry for his sins and turns to Him.\n\nAnd there is another thing very beautiful to think of about the angels.\nThey are God's ministers, or servants, who do His pleasure in serving His\nchildren here in this world; taking care of them, because they are so\nprecious to Him.\n\nI want you to find the verse which tells us about this \"ministry of\nangels,\" and then I will not ask you to look for any more references\nto-day. It is at the end of a chapter in the epistle to the Hebrews.\n\n\"Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who\nshall be heirs of salvation?\" (Hebrews i. 14).\n\nRemember that in the Bible the word \"minister\" means servant, and so to\nminister means to serve. And we must not forget that in the last book of\nthe Bible we read of a \"new song;\" which no angel can sing, for it is known\nonly by the great multitude of the redeemed; and though it will be sung\nin heaven, it is learnt on earth. Angels may join in the mighty chorus of\npraise to which every creature will add its voice--but it is those who have\nbeen redeemed by the precious blood of Christ who will lead that song and\nsay, \"Thou are worthy, for Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed to God by Thy\nblood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation.\"\n\nHow much is told us in the first three verses of God's Book? We have read\nthat this earth, now so full of beauty, was once waste and desolate; there\nwas no life there, and no light--for \"darkness was upon the face of the\ndeep.\" How long this state of ruin continued we do not know; but the next\nthing we are told is very solemn and wonderful--\"the Spirit of God moved\nupon the face of the waters.\" Then, in the next verse we read, \"and God\nsaid.\" The Spirit of God and the word of God are spoken of together here,\nwhere we read of His mighty working in the past in bringing the earth out\nof ruin and darkness into light and life and beauty; and it is by His word\nand His Spirit that the soul is turned from darkness to light, and is born\nagain--born of God--now.\n\nSo that God has given us here a picture or type from which we can learn;\nbut I hope to tell you a little more about this another time. Just now I\nshould like you to look for a very beautiful verse (Deut. xxxii. 11) which\ncompares the care of God for His chosen People to that of the eagle for her\nyoung; because the word there translated \"fluttereth\" is the same which\nin the second verse of the Bible is translated \"moved,\" as we read, \"the\nSpirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.\"\n\nIt is that Holy Spirit who alone can explain to us the meaning of such\nwords, for it is written, \"The things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit\nof God.\"\n\n  \"Songs of praise the angels sang,\n  Heaven with hallelujahs rang,\n  When Jehovah's work begun,\n  When He spake and it was done.\n\n  \"Songs of praise awoke the morn\n  When the Prince of Peace was born;\n  Songs of praise arose when He\n  Captive led captivity.\n\n  \"Heaven and earth must pass away,\n  Songs of praise shall crown that day;\n  God will make new heavens and earth;\n  Songs of praise shall hail their birth.\"\n\nJ. MONTGOMERY.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRST DAY.\n\nLIGHT.\n\n\n\"_Where is the way where light dwelleth? and as for darkness, where is the\nplace thereof?_\"--JOB xxxviii. 19.\n\n\"_He knoweth what is in the darkness, and the light dwelleth with\nhim._\"--DANIEL ii, 22.\n\n\"_God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our\nhearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face\nof Jesus Christ._\"--2 COR. iv, 6.\n\n\nI want you to notice, in the beautiful verses which speak of \"light,\" that\nGod does not at first tell us anything about Himself. He speaks to us of\nwhat He did when in the beginning He created the heaven and the earth, and\nof what He said at the time when the earth lay in darkness, buried beneath\nthe waters. In the midst of the silence and darkness a voice was heard, the\nvoice of God, \"And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.\" This\nwe read in the first page of God's Book; but it is very near its end that\nGod makes it known that the One who made the light, the One at whose word\nlight came from darkness, is Himself Light. It is His very Nature.\n\n\"God is light.\" Now we learn from God's Word that there are two kinds of\nlight, and two kinds of darkness; let us talk a little about this.\n\nWe can well understand one kind of darkness, because we can see it: and\nwe know it is caused by the absence of light. It grows dark when the sun,\nwhich makes our day, has set to us, and the night has come to wrap us\nround, as it were, in a curtain of shade that we may sleep quietly. It is\ndark too, not only by night, but all the day long in the deep caverns where\nthe miner must carry his lamp to light up those dismal places where the sun\nnever shines. This darkness, like that which rested upon the face of the\ndeep before God spoke that word which brought the light, is caused by there\nbeing no light, and as soon as the light comes the darkness goes. The other\nkind of darkness we cannot see: it has to do, not with places, but with\npeople, and we read about it very often in the Bible. It is that dreadful\nkind of darkness which has come through sin, and has settled down upon the\nheart of every one of us. This darkness God sees, and He speaks about it in\nHis Word.\n\nWe find it hard to believe that our hearts are all dark when God looks at\nthem; that He finds no love to Himself there; no bright spot anywhere; but\nGod, who is Light, as He looks straight down to the depths of those hearts,\nand sees us through and through, has told us the truth about ourselves, as\nHe sees us.\n\nYou do not like darkness better than light; the night better than the day,\ndo you?\n\nI remember how sorry I used to be when night came, and how fond I was of\nsaying to myself a verse I had learnt, as I lay awake in the early morning\nand watched the dawning light--\n\n  \"I saw the glorious sun arise\n    Far o'er yon mountain grey,\n  And as he rode upon the skies\n    The darkness went away;\n  And all around me was so bright\n  I wished it would be always light!\"\n\nYes, we naturally love the light which is so cheerful, and shows us so\nplainly all the beautiful things around us.\n\nBut that other kind of light which shines from God into our hearts, do we\nlike it?\n\nNo; one sad thing that sin has done is to make us love the dark, because we\nfeel as though there we could hide away from God. We know quite well that\nif God is looking at us He sees us right, just as we are, not as we like to\nthink we are, and this is why we try to forget that He is always looking\nat us. I know a little boy, who had done something naughty, and had been\nhiding it all day. No one saw Georgie go to the cupboard and take a piece\nof sugar. He had eaten it, and had gone back to his play as if nothing had\nhappened, before his grandmother came back into the room. All day long\nGeorgie kept in the dark; a darkness which could not be seen ruled in\nhis heart--but it was a darkness that might be felt, and which made him\nmiserable. At last when bedtime came, and he had said good-night to his\ngrandmother, upstairs in his little room his aunt knelt down beside him and\nbegan to pray. Presently something happened which showed that Georgie was\npraying really himself, while Auntie said the words. He looked up for a\nmoment and said softly, \"Tell God about that sugar.\"\n\nAnd then he went to bed, oh, so much happier than he had been all those\nlong hours before he had come into the light, and told the truth about what\nonly God and Georgie himself knew--nobody else in the world!\n\nBut while I say this I think I am forgetting what we so often forget when\nwe do wrong. Satan knew about it, and he had tried all day long to keep\nthis little boy away in the dark, hiding from God, and to make him think it\nwas not worth while to tell the truth about such a little thing as a piece\nof sugar. If any such thought as that comes into your heart when you have\ndone wrong, do not listen to it for one moment. Remember that the darkness\nand the light are both alike to God.\n\nAnd now I want to tell you about another boy, older than Georgie, who was\nmade very unhappy by the thought that he could not get away anywhere to\nhide from God. But why did Johnny want so much to hide from God? Had he\nbeen very naughty? It was not because he had done anything very naughty\njust then, but because something inside him--that voice that perhaps often\nseems to speak deep down in your heart--spoke to him and made him afraid.\nHe did not like that God, who is Light, should come close to him. When\npeople saw him crying, and said kindly, \"What is the matter, my boy?\" poor\nJohnny could only say, \"God is looking at me.\" He had just this one thought\nalways with him--God was looking at him, and God could see what no one else\ncould, the real Johnny, and all the secret things which he could not bear\nthat anyone should know.\n\nBut had God only just begun to look at this boy? No; all his life\nlong--more than twelve years, I think--the eye that never sleeps had been\nwatching him. Johnny had tried to hide himself behind his play and his\npleasures, and, as he grew older, behind his carelessness; but now he had\nlearnt that none of the things which may hide us from ourselves and from\nothers, can hide us from God. He could only feel that God was looking at\nhim, and in this way Johnny learned something of the meaning of the words\n\"God is light.\" That is what God has to teach us all, and it would be a\nlesson too terrible for anyone to learn, if that were all God has been\npleased to tell us about Himself. But there is another part of God's\nmessage to us, and it was when Johnny had learned it that he was not afraid\nor unhappy any more.\n\nIt was because God was looking for him that He allowed this boy to have\nthat dreadful feeling that there was someone, from whom he could not hide\naway, who knew him perfectly. Johnny learnt this lesson, and then God\ntaught him not only that \"God is light,\" but that he need not be afraid to\nstand, just as he was, in the light which shows everything, because of this\nother wonderful little verse which tells us that \"God is love.\"\n\nAnd so at last Johnny learned to say to God what king David said--after he\nhad told God all the truth about what he had done, and God had forgiven\nhim--\"Thou art my hiding-place.\" I have heard a very wonderful thing; but\nI believe it is true. It is said of light that \"it conceals more than it\nreveals\"; that there is no hiding-place like light, if it is only bright\nenough; and the brighter the light is, the more impossible it is to find\nwhat has been hidden there!\n\nI remember when I first saw the electric light; it was in the middle of the\nnight, as the boat on board which I had been crossing the sea which divides\nWales from Ireland, came in at the pier. All around, the whole scene was\nlighted up; the dark water shone, and the people came on shore and looked\nfor their luggage, and took their places in the tram, no one thinking of\nsuch a thing as a lamp, for all was clear as daylight.\n\nBut this light, bright as it was, lighted only a very little space; as the\ntrain moved off we left it behind us, and hurried on into the dark night.\nHow much more wonderful is the light of the sun which shines night and day,\nalways giving light to some part of the world!\n\nBut sunlight, moonlight, and electric light, all these shine upon the\noutside, upon what we can see. God, who is Light, shines upon what is\nwithin, upon that heart which is by nature so dark that there is not one\nbright spot there, so that if God did not shine into it no light could ever\ncome.\n\nHave you ever seen, when the moon has been shining over the sea, making a\nlong, broad pathway of brightness, a ship, as it sails along, suddenly come\ninto that bright track? It is a beautiful sight; just for one moment every\nmast and sail all stand out with such distinctness that you say, \"Oh, I can\nsee her now perfectly!\" Then, while you look, she has crossed the shining\npath, and you can but just trace her dim outline, and know that a ship is\nsailing there.\n\n[Illustration: CROSSING THE SHINING PATH.]\n\nWhen the Lord Jesus Christ was in this world He said, \"As long as I am in\nthe world, I am the light of the world.\" He showed people plainly that He\nknew them in a way that no one else could. Some people were glad; one poor\nwoman, who had been in the dark all her life, went and told everyone about\nHim, and said, \"Come, see a man, which told me all things that ever I did.\"\nOthers could not bear that that light should show them to themselves, so we\nread that one day those who had been with Him, \"went but one by one,\" until\nthey were all gone. Which would you rather be like--the people who went\naway into the darkness, rather than be found out by the Light, or the one\nwho stayed, and heard those words she could never forget--\"Neither do I\ncondemn thee; go and sin no more\"?\n\nThe only way not to be afraid of the light is to come to the Lord Jesus\nChrist, who has said of every one that follows Him, that he shall not\n\"abide in darkness, but shall have the light of life.\"\n\nBut hiding--hiding from God--only means getting deeper into the dark,\nfarther away from Him who is Light.\n\nNow that we have spoken of these solemn and important things--things which\nI like to speak to you about, but which God alone, who loves you so much,\ncan really teach you:--I should like to tell you a little about the light\nas we see it all around us.\n\nNow, what can we learn about it?\n\nFirst, we learn that it was called into existence by the voice of God. God\nsaid, \"Let there be light; and there was light\" on the FIRST DAY, but it\nwas not until the FOURTH DAY that those great light-bearers--the sun and\nthe moon--were made lights to the earth, and set \"for signs, and for\nseasons, and for days and years.\" But the question, \"What is light?\" is not\none easily answered.\n\nWe can all understand that light is that which makes everything visible,\nbut you will perhaps be surprised to hear that it has taken a very long\ntime even to find out how the light comes to us.\n\nIt is now generally believed that light, which is one of the strongest\npowers in the world, is caused by motion; and that it is because every\nlight-giving body is always moving very fast, that it gives out light. But\nno one can explain how this rapid movement began, nor what that \"ether\" is\nthrough which the \"vibrations\" travel until they reach a wonderful little\nscreen which we have at the back of each of our eyes, by means of which we\nare able to see.\n\nWe may think of the air around us as a vast ocean, through which waves\nconveying light and sound are constantly travelling. When a sound-wave\nstrikes the ear, we hear; when a light-wave, moving like a water-wave,\nreaches the eye, we see. Light comes chiefly from the sun: it is beautiful\nto think, is it not?--of waves of light streaming always, day and night,\nfrom that wonderful sun so far away, and coming, wave after wave, to paint\nbeautiful pictures on our eyes! For if you and I both look at the same\nlovely view, we have each a picture of it--the mountains, and sea, and\ngreen fields, and houses--all to ourselves; and so it would be if, not two\npeople, but two hundred were looking. One thing about light of which we are\nquite sure is, that it travels very quickly. It makes its noiseless journey\nall round this great earth eight times in one second--in less time than it\ntakes for my watch to give one tick; and it comes all the long, long way\nfrom the sun to the earth in less than ten minutes.\n\nI spoke just now of the light painting pictures upon our eyes. Did you know\nthat if there were no light there would be no beautiful colours? Where the\nsun shines very brightly, in those parts of the world called the tropics,\nit is not only very hot, but travellers tell us that there the green of\nthe leaves is darker than we are accustomed to see it, and the colours of\nthe flowers and of the birds' feathers are more brilliant than in our own\ncountry, where the sunlight is never so strong.\n\nThen, though the sunlight gives their lovely colours to the anemones and\nseaweeds, as it shines into their homes in the shallow places near shore,\nif you could go far down into the ocean depths, where the light can hardly\nreach, you would find the colours of any creatures, or plants, or shells\nthat might be there soft and pure, but not brilliant.\n\nBut how does the light make the colours? It seems only white, or perhaps\ngold-coloured, in itself.\n\nThis is what I should like to explain to you, for it is a very beautiful\nlesson, and not difficult to learn.\n\nWhen I asked the children if they could tell me what we mean when we say\nthat a thing reflects the light, Chrissie said he had often seen the red\nsunset reflected by the windows opposite, but he could not quite tell how\nto explain it.\n\nWe may read in books this explanation: \"The reflection of light is the\nturning back of its rays by the surface upon which they fall.\" And while we\nread this we must remember that the surface or outside of everything has\nsome peculiarity about it, which affects the light as it falls upon it.\n\nThe light of the sun is made up of seven colours, though God has so\nperfectly blended them that we see only white light; but all these colours\nmay be traced in the seven-coloured arch, which is a token to men of His\nmercy, and a sign that while the earth remains \"seed-time and harvest, cold\nand heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.\"\n\nThe smallest portion of light which we can speak of is called a ray of\nlight. You have seen, when what you call a beam of light comes in at a\nhole, before the shutters have been opened, how the little specks of\ndust glance up and down in it, as if they were at an endless game of\npuss-in-the-corner. But have you ever seen beautiful colours, like those of\nthe rainbow, dance about the room--now on the ceiling, now on the floor?\n\nYou can best see this lovely little rainbow by darkening the room, and\nletting just one ray of light stream in through a small hole. Then take\na bit of glass, cut so that it has at least three sides--a \"drop\" of cut\nglass from the lustre on the mantelpiece will do--and hold it up between\nyou and the light. This little piece of glass, which is called a prism,\nbecause it has been sawn or cut, will do a wonderful thing, as you turn\nit about in the sunbeam. The ray of light, as it passes through the\nthree-cornered bit of glass, will be turned out of its straight path, and\nthis causes it to be split up into many colours, so that you will have a\ntiny rainbow, which can be seen beautifully if you allow it to fall upon a\nsheet of white paper; and the colours are always arranged in the same way.\nLook! in the centre of your rainbow there are green and yellow; then comes\nred, then blue, then violet. You can easily see these five colours; and two\nmore are counted; indigo, or dark blue, and orange. The only difficulty\nabout saying how many colours you can see is this. If you begin with the\nviolet, and count till you come to the red, you will find that the soft\nhues are so blended, or run into each other, that it is not easy to see\nwhere one ends and the other begins.\n\nI want you to make this little rainbow, not only because the colours which\nit paints upon the ceiling are so pure and beautiful, and it is so curious\nto see the bright band of red and blue and green dancing from place to\nplace as you turn your bit of glass, but because you can see in this way\nhow a ray of light spreads itself out when it passes through this glass\nwith three sides. The colours are separated from each other because no two\nwaves of light are of quite the same length; some move slowly and others\nfast, and the faster a wave travels the more it is turned aside out of the\nstraight road.\n\nThis is a difficult subject, but I think you will understand that if all\nrays were alike, the whole beam would be bent; but as some are more easily\nbent than others, as they pass through the prism they are spread out.\n\nLong ago, the great philosopher Newton bought a prism, and thus \"analysed\"\nor broke up the sunbeam, and discovered what is called the \"prismatic band\"\nof colours. He found that what seemed to be white light was made up of\ntints really infinite in number; for though we count only seven prismatic\ncolours, they are shaded off, one into the other, as you see.\n\nHaving thus broken up the beam of light, Newton, by means of two prisms,\nput together again the rays which he had separated, and the sunbeam was\n\"white\" as before. Perhaps you wonder why we do not always see coloured\nlight: the reason is that the waves of light, unless interfered with and\nturned out of their straight path, all travel together in their rapid,\nnoiseless course, and so remain unbroken.\n\nYou will find it very interesting to make the first of Newton's experiments\nyourself, and some day perhaps you will hear what wonderful things about\nthe sun and the stars are being learnt in our own time by means of the\nspectroscope, which is an instrument having a fine slit through which the\nray is passed before it is allowed to fall upon the prism.\n\nAnd now what do we mean when we talk of things being of different colours?\nWhen we say of snow that it is white we mean that, as the light falls upon\nthe snow, it is all sent back again. The surface of the snow reflects all\nthe light, and keeps none. The other day, when I was buying some flowers\nto plant in the garden, the woman who was selling them showed me a black\npansy. \"I am sure you would like to have this root,\" she said, \"black\npansies are so rare.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\nI did not buy the flower, for I did not think it nearly so pretty as the\npurple and yellow pansies, which seemed to look up at me with such knowing\nlittle faces; but I was interested to see it, because (and are you not glad\nthat it is so?) black flowers are very rare. But why was this pansy black?\nAh! it was quite different from the snow; it kept all the light which fell\nupon it, and gave away none. You see that God has given to some things the\npower of absorbing light and to others that of reflecting it. If it were\nnot so, our world would be very different from the beautiful world which it\nis--as different as an engraving is from a coloured picture, with fields,\ngardens, sea and sky all of varied hue. Almost all the flowers are so\nbeautiful because, while they keep some of the colours from the light which\nfalls upon them, they do not keep all.\n\nNow look at the flowers in that glass upon the table. The lovely rose keeps\npart of its ray of light, but gives us back the red; the larkspur gives\nback the blue; and those pure white lilies, which show so fair beside the\nroses, give back all the light in its bright whiteness just as it comes to\nthem, so that a poet, who loved them well, calls them \"those flowers made\nof light.\"\n\nAnd the water in the glass, why is it white?\n\nBecause water is what is called transparent; it does not drink in the\nlight, but lets the whole ray pass through it, as it passes through the\nwindow-pane.\n\nNow my lesson about colours is over, and I will tell you a story. I don't\nknow whether you have as good a memory as some of my children had, and\nwhether you remember my promise to explain to you about types. I daresay\nyou have heard this word used in more than one way, and a word which has\ntwo meanings is rather a puzzle, is it not? I know how it used to set me\nthinking, when I heard someone say of a new book that it was pleasant to\nread, because of its good type; the word was not new to me, but I had heard\nit used in quite another way, the way in which it is used when we say of\nthe serpent of brass lifted up by Moses in the wilderness, that the dying\npeople might look at it and live--that it was a type of the Lord Jesus\nChrist lifted up upon the cross, as He Himself tells us it was. I daresay,\nif I could ask you, you would tell me that \"type\" used in this sense means\na picture. That was what Chris and Sharley said, but it was because I\nwanted the little ones as well as the elder ones to understand that meaning\nof the word that I told them this story which a friend of mine once told\nme, and which I am sure you will like to hear,\n\nWe were saying just now how dark it would be in the deep mines, far\nunderground, where no daylight can come, if it were not for the lamp which\nthe miner carries with him wherever he goes. You may think you would rather\nlike to go down a mine, just for once, if you were quite sure of being\ndrawn up safely in the miners' cage, but I think you would not go down,\nif you thought you would have to stay even a whole week in such a dismal\nplace.\n\nMy story is about a boy who had never been anywhere else, for he was born\nin a mine, and all his childhood, while other children were running about\nin the fields, looking up at the sky and breathing the fresh air which\nmakes your cheeks so rosy, this little boy might turn his bright eyes this\nway and that, but no trees and houses and gay gardens were to be seen, far\nor near; for though he was five or six years old, no one had ever taken him\nup to the top of the mine and let him see the sky, and pick the daisies,\nand feel the warm sunshine. Poor boy, he was an orphan; both his parents\nhad died before he could remember, and he had no one to care for him in the\nway in which your dear father and mother have always cared for you. At last\none of the miners thought what a sad life it was for a child to be always\ndown underground, and he began to take notice of the lonely little boy,\nwho had no father and mother to love him and be good to him, and in the\nevenings, when his work was done, he coaxed the child to come on his knee,\nand used to tell him stories about that wonderful world above ground which\nhe had never seen.\n\nDo you not think it must have been very difficult for the kind miner to\ntalk about the blue sky and the birds, and the grass and trees, and all the\nbeautiful sights which most children know so well, to a child who had never\nseen any of them? It was indeed a difficult task, but you know there is an\nold saying about difficulties which tells us that \"love will find out the\nway\" to overcome them. The miner became very fond of his pet, and he found\nout a way of making the things of which he spoke seem real to him.\n\n\"He could show him pictures,\" you will say. That was what little May\nthought, and it would have been a very good way; but remember that there\nwere no beautiful picture-books such as you have, down in the mine. How\nthen could the miner teach his little friend about things above ground?\n\nThe only way in which he could do this was by means of things in the mine\nwhich the boy knew well, and had been used to all his life. So he would\ntake his lamp, and talk to him about it, and show him how its tiny flame\nlighted up the darkness, and then he would point upwards, and say that far\nabove ground there was a great lamp burning all day long, and giving light\nto the people who lived in that upper world.\n\nNow you would say that a miner's lamp was a very poor picture of the\nglorious sun; still, this child saw that in the under world, where he\nlived, it made all the difference between light and darkness whether the\nlamps were shining or not; so the lamp was like the sun, at least in that\nrespect, though it was so poor and dim, and such a tiny likeness of it.\n\nIn the same way--when his kind friend made the little boy look at the pails\nof water which were swung down into the mine, and explained to him that\nabove ground, in that new world which he had never seen, the water ran\nalong quickly in great streams called rivers, and that there was a great,\ngreat world of water called the sea--though you might say that a pail of\nwater in a mine, water which would soon be used for the miners to drink or\nfor cooking their food, would give a very poor idea indeed of the mighty\nocean with its rolling waves, where the whales spout, and the ships sail\non their long voyages; still, poor as it was, that water in the pail was a\nlikeness, a type of the rivers and seas, was it not?\n\nThe children were interested in this little boy, and they wanted to know\nhow long he lived in the mine, and what became of him afterwards; but this\nI could not tell them, for I never heard any more about him.\n\nAnd now I want you not only to be interested in this story, but to remember\nwhy I have told it to you. You understand now, I am sure, that a type is\na figure of something not present; of course, inferior to the thing it\nrepresents, as the miner's lamp was inferior to the sun, or a man's shadow\non the wall is to the man himself, but giving a true idea to a certain\ndegree.\n\nThe light given by the miner's lamp was bright when compared with that\ngiven by one little candle in a cottage window, and yet that feeble ray,\nquietly shining night after night, served to guide many a fisherman safely\npast a dangerous rock, which juts out into the sea, on the coast of one of\nthe Orkney Isles. It was a young girl, the daughter of a fisherman, who\nlighted that candle and kept it burning. Her father's boat had been wrecked\none wild dark night on \"Lonely Rock,\" and his body washed ashore near his\ncottage. The girl, in her grief, remembered other poor fishermen, and when\nnight came on she set a candle in the window, and watched it as she sat at\nher spinning wheel. She did not do this once, or twice, but through long\nyears that coast was never without the light of her little candle, by which\nthe men at sea might be warned off the neighbourhood of the terrible rock.\n\nIn order to pay for her candles, this lonely girl with a faithful heart\nspun every night an extra quantity of yarn--for she earned her own living\nby her spinning wheel--and so the tiny flame was kept alight, and she found\ncomfort in her sorrow by doing what she could, in her unselfish care, for\n\"those in peril on the sea.\"\n\nThe meanest candle is a luminary in its way, for it possesses light, while\nthe most brilliant diamond has none in itself, and can give back only what\nit receives.\n\nAnd now that our lesson about the FIRST DAY is finished, we must not forget\nwhat we have been learning.\n\nGod, the Creator, alone in creation,\n\n(_a_) \"said, Let there be light: and there was light.\" (_b_) \"saw the\nlight, that it was good.\" (_c_) \"divided the light from the darkness.\"\n(_d_) \"called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night.\"\n\n\"And the evening and the morning were the first day.\"\n\nThe astronomer Proctor, in his beautiful book, _Flowers of the Sky_, says\nthat \"light is the first of all that exists in the universe.\" And we are,\ntold that the action of light was necessary to prepare the way for all\nlife; but this is far too great a subject for us to speak of in this little\nbook. Let us remember that God saw the light, that it was good, and that\nHe made the division between light and darkness in nature which He uses as\na figure in the New Testament, where we read that the children of God are\ncalled \"children of light,\" and \"not of the night nor of darkness\"; and\nwhere \"goodness, and righteousness, and truth\" are spoken of as \"fruits of\nthe light,\" in contrast with \"unfruitful works of darkness.\"\n\nIn all that is around us in this world which God made, if we had eyes to\nsee, we should find pictures of the things which are unseen, but yet very\nreal; so in the Book which He has written, He has given us pictures. The\ndescription in verse 2 of the waste empty earth, with darkness upon the\nface of the deep, and the Spirit of God moving over the face of the waters,\nis a picture of the condition of everyone born into this world.\n\nIn verse 3 we have a picture of God as Light shining into the dark and\nempty heart.\n\nIn verse 4 we see that God separates good from evil.\n\nNow I want you to think of these things, and as we have been talking of the\nwords,\n\n  God is Light,\n  God is Love,\n\nI am going to copy for you a hymn, which speaks of them very beautifully;\nmy children know it well, and often sing it.\n\n  \"God in mercy sent His Son\n  To a world by sin undone.\n  Jesus Christ was crucified;\n  _'Twas for sinners Jesus died_.\n  Oh! the glory of the grace,\n  Shining in the Saviour's face,\n  Telling sinners from above,\n  'God is Light,' and 'God is Love.'\n\n  \"Sin and death no more shall reign,\n  Jesus died and lives again!\n  In the glory's highest height--\n  See Him God's supreme delight.\n  Oh! the glory of the grace,\n  Shining in the Saviour's face,\n  Telling sinners from above,\n  'God is Light,' and 'God is Love.'\n\n  \"All who on His name believe,\n  Everlasting life receive;\n  Lord of all is Jesus now,\n  Every knee to him must bow.\n  Oh! the glory of the grace,\n  Shining in the Saviour's face,\n  Telling sinners from above,\n  'God is Light,' and 'God is Love.'\n\n  \"Christ the Lord will come again,\n  He who suffered once will reign;\n  Every tongue at last shall own,\n  'Worthy is the Lamb' alone.\n  Oh! the glory of the grace,\n  Shining in the Saviour's face,\n  Telling sinners from above,\n  'God is Light,' and 'God is Love.'\"\n\nH. K. BURLINGHAM.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SECOND DAY.\n\nTHE OCEAN OF AIR.\n\n\n\"_Dost thou know the balancings of the clouds, the wondrous works of\nHim which is perfect in knowledge?... Hast thou with Him spread out the\nsky?_\"--JOB xxxvii. 16-18.\n\n\"_When He prepared the heavens, I was there: when He set a compass upon\nthe face of the depth: when He established the clouds above: when He\nstrengthened the fountains of the deep._\"--PROVERBS viii. 27, 28.\n\n\"_Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of His hand, and meted out\nheaven with the span?_\"--ISAIAH xl. 12.\n\n\nIn reading these beautiful verses, let us remember that in the second of\nthem it is the Lord Jesus Christ who says of that time when God prepared\nthe heavens, \"I was there.\" And now, as we are going to think about what\nGod did on the SECOND DAY of Creation, I want you not only very carefully\nto read those verses in the first chapter of Genesis which tell us about it\n(verses 6-9), but to keep your Bible open at the place, so that you may be\nable to refer to them constantly.\n\nWhen we had read them together, my children noticed that in these verses we\nfind once more three words which are used to tell us about the work of God\nupon the FIRST DAY. You see these words, do you not?\n\n\"God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters.\"\n\n\"God divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters\nwhich were above the firmament.\"\n\n\"God called the firmament Heaven.\"\n\nAnd there is one word which has not been used before: \"And God made the\nfirmament.\"\n\nIt is quite simple to see this, but I daresay you want to know, as all the\nchildren--even the elder ones--did, the meaning of one very uncommon word\nwhich we find in each of these verses. \"What does 'firmament' mean?\" they\nsaid.\n\nI told them that the word conveys the idea of something firm and strong and\nsteadfast; and then I asked Sharley, who has a reference Bible, to look in\nthe margin, and tell me what word she could find there which might be used\ninstead of this uncommon one. She found, as you will find if there are\nreferences in your Bible, that the word is there translated \"expansion.\"\nAnd what does that mean?\n\nYou can understand something spread out wide, can you not?\n\nThose who turned the Hebrew word into English long ago thought\n\"firmament\"--that which stands fast--was a better word than \"expansion,\"\nwhich simply means what is stretched or spread out--as the heaven is spread\nabove the earth \"like a curtain.\" The expanse, then, which God made on the\nSECOND DAY, is what we call, the sky, as we look up and see the\n\n  \"... tapestried tent\n  Of that marvellous curtain of blue and gold,\"\n\nwhich is high above our heads, and stretches away far, far as our eyes\ncan reach. And this tent, under whose shadow we dwell, is not firm and\nsolid, but is really a globe of vapour, which surrounds us everywhere, and\nreaches, not all the way up to what we call the blue sky, but very much\nhigher than any bird could fly or balloon float--as high as forty or fifty\nmiles above the earth. God has fixed its height; if it were less, every\nbreath we take would hurt us; if it were much greater, we should be always\ntired.\n\nBut before we speak of this atmosphere, or globe of air, which surrounds\nthe earth, I want you to remember, as you read of the work of God on the\nSix Days of creation, that each one of these Days led, in a beautiful\norder, to the next, and that in all of them God was preparing the earth,\nwhich He had created in the beginning, for the creatures which He had not\nyet formed. For each kind of creature a place was found fit for it to live\nin, whether that dwelling-place was the earth, or the great and wide sea,\nor the boundless fields of air. And each creature, as it came from God's\nhand, was fitted to live where God had placed it: for every living thing\nthe means of living was provided. Thus on the First of His Days God called\nfor the light. What would the face of all the world be without it? Then on\nthe SECOND DAY He not only provided the place in which the happy winged\ncreatures fly and utter their sweet songs, but that by which all living\nthings, whether they were plants or animals, should be kept alive. I am\nsure you know that without air you could not breathe; but perhaps you have\nnever thought that without it no plant could live, not even the smallest\nblade of grass. Every green thing lives by breathing the air, and if there\nwere no air which it could breathe, it would soon die.\n\nHow freely God has given us this great blessing! His air is all around us,\nas is His presence. When people wish to speak of what belongs to everyone\nalike they sometimes say, \"It's as free as the air you breathe\"--this\nwonderful air, which we cannot see, but which helps to make the sky so\nblue, without which no fire could burn, no robin sing to its mate, no lamb\nbleat after its mother, no merry voices of boys and girls at play be heard.\nGod has indeed made it free to us; but let us never forget that we are, as\nHis creatures, dependent upon Him for every breath we draw.\n\nNow while we speak of the way in which this world was created by God, and\nfitted to become the dwelling-place of His creatures, we may remember how\nthe Lord Jesus spoke to His disciples, after He had told them that He would\nbe only a little while with them, about the place He was going to prepare\nfor them. This reminds me of a little incident which I should like to tell\nyou, because it is so beautiful to know that the Lord of glory, who was\nallowed no place here, He who\n\n  \"Wandered as a homeless stranger,\n    In the world His hands had made,\"\n\nhas indeed gone to prepare a place for those whom He has, by His death and\nresurrection, made ready to dwell there.\n\nIn a quiet market-town in the North of England an aged Christian had\ninvited a number of those of whom our Lord says, \"whensoever ye will ye may\ndo them good,\" to take tea with him and his friends. After they had enjoyed\nwhat loving hands had made ready, their host took out God's book, and\nturning to the second verse of the fourteenth chapter of John's Gospel,\nread it, and then said, \"It comes to me in this way, dear friends: If our\nLord is preparing a place, He wants a prepared people.\"\n\nHe then went on to say that we all need preparing, that is making ready,\nto dwell in the place of which the Lord Jesus Christ spoke as \"My Father's\nhouse\"--the place which was always His own home--and then he told once\nagain the story which you have so often heard--\n\n  \"... the old, old story\n  Of Jesus and His love.\"\n\nThe Lord often spoke to His own disciples about His Father. He said, \"I\ncame forth from the Father, and am come into the world: again, I leave the\nworld, and go to the Father,\" and when He spoke of leaving them He said,\n\"If ye loved Me ye would rejoice, because I said, I go unto the Father.\"\nBut we know that those who had been with their Master for so long did not\nrejoice when He spoke of going away: their hearts were filled with sorrow.\n\nWhen He said to them, \"Whither I go ye know, and the way ye know,\" Thomas\nreplied; \"Lord, we know not whither thou goest, and how can we know the\nway?\"\n\nWhat did the Lord say?\n\nHe said that He was Himself the way to the Father--\"I am the way, and the\ntruth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father but by Me.\"\n\nBut if the Lord was going back to His Father's House--the place which was\nalways His home--He was not willing to go alone. He might have gone back at\nany time, but if He would have those who could neither cleanse nor clothe\nthemselves, who were sinful and unfit for that Home of love and light, He\nmust go by the way of death, giving up His own life, that He might make\nthem ready to dwell with Him in His Father's house; so that when He said,\n\"I go to prepare a place for you,\" He, the Son of God, in His wonderful\nlove, was going to do that which alone could make anyone fit to enter\nthere, and be at home for evermore.\n\nBut then we sometimes go on as if we were to live in this world for ever,\nand do not come to Him who says, \"I am the way.\" Or perhaps we think we can\nmake ourselves ready by trying to be good--forgetting that the One who is\nHimself the Truth said, \"The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that\nwhich was lost,\" and that if the Lord is preparing a place, He wants a\nprepared people.\n\nBut we were speaking about the way in which God, when He made this world in\nwhich we live, prepared it for the creatures to whom He would give it to\nbe their dwelling-place; and especially of the globe of air with which He\nhas surrounded the earth--that wonderful ocean of air in which we live and\nmove, just as the fish live and move in their ocean of water.\n\nLet us see if we cannot learn something more about the atmosphere. But\nfirst of all let me ask, What can you tell me about it?\n\n\"You cannot see the air; you can feel it, and often hear it.\"\n\nYes, indeed we can. How delightfully fresh it comes to us as we swing, or\nwhen we are driving fast, or sailing; and how terrible its force is when\nthe stormy wind rushes past, driving everything before it! It is then we\ncan understand that the gentle air, which yields to the slightest touch,\nmay be a very mighty power indeed.\n\nAnd now I am going to tell you something about the air which may surprise\nyou. We often say of a thing that it is \"as light as air\"; but air is not\nreally light, it is so heavy that it would press upon us and crush us, just\nas a great hammer might crush your little finger, only that this heavy\nweight of air presses quite evenly everywhere all through our body, within\nand without, upward as well as downward, and yields at once when we move,\nso that we do not feel its weight.\n\nJust think of the weight of water which lies above a little fish as it\nswims far down in the sea. Why is it not crushed by it? Just for the same\nreason; the water is all round the fish, as the air in our ocean is all\nround us; and it presses so evenly that it cannot be felt in any particular\npart.\n\nAnother very wonderful thing about the atmosphere is that what we call the\nair is made up of two airs, or gases, as different as possible from each\nother, but mixed so as to make exactly that particular sort of air which is\nfit for us to breathe.\n\nOne of these gases, named oxygen, might well be called \"life-sustainer\"; it\nforms about one-fifth of the air we breathe, and is that part of it which\nmakes our fires burn and our lamps give light, and keeps us and all the\nanimals alive. The other gas is called nitrogen; it is a dull gas, with no\nlife in it, and remains behind when all the oxygen is taken out of the air.\nBut this part of the air is very useful; it prevents the breathing of men\nand animals and the burning of fires and lamps, from going on too fast. If\nyou had only the life-sustaining part of the air to breathe, you would soon\ndie; and if the air was all made of that part which burns so well, one\nspark falling upon it would be enough to burn up the whole world, for no\none could put the fire out.\n\nThese two gases are mixed in nearly the same proportions in all climates\nso as to make the beautiful pure air which God has given us to live and\ngo about in. There is another gas, called carbonic acid, made partly\nof oxygen and partly of carbon, or burnt wood, which might be called\n\"life-destroyer,\" for it will put out light and make an end of life. It is\none of the most deadly poisons, and forms the \"choke-damp\" which too often\nsuffocates the miner; but what we call fresh air contains such a very\nsmall proportion of this dangerous gas that it is harmless. Still we must\nremember that every time anyone or any animal breathes, some of the air\nby which we live is taken away from that which surrounds us, and some of\nthis poisonous air is thrown into it. If this is the case, should we not,\nby degrees, find the air becoming less and less pure and fit for us to\nbreathe?\n\nCertainly it would be so, if God had not made a beautiful provision for\nkeeping the air fresh, which I will try to explain to you.\n\nYou may remember that the Lord Jesus, after He had made the five barley\nloaves and two small fishes prove enough for thousands of hungry men and\nwomen and little children, turned to His disciples, and said, \"Gather up\nthe fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.\" So, in the world around\nus, we may often see that God gives freely, but does not allow what He has\nfreely given to be lost or wasted.\n\nNow when you take a long breath, and breathe in the air, you presently\nbreathe it out again. But what you breathe out is not the same; the part\nof it by which you live is gone, and a poisonous air has taken its place.\nThen, if every person in the world, and even the smallest animal, is\nconstantly using up the good part of the air, and breathing out that which\nhas been spoilt for animals, and would kill them if they had nothing else\nto breathe--why are not all animals poisoned? What becomes of this air\nwhich has been spoilt for them? Is it good for anything?\n\nAh! there is a wonderful, beautiful answer to these questions going on all\nday long, surely and silently, unseen by any of us.\n\nThis air which has been used by us, and is no longer fit for our use,\nfeeds the plants and trees, the grass, and all living things which are\nnot animals; the plants, through tiny mouths at the edge of their leaves,\nbreathe it in. They grow by it; and, wonder of wonders, all day long, if\nonly the plant is where the sun can shine upon it, every green bit of it\nis busy making this same air fit for us to breathe again; using up what it\nwants, and what we do not want; every fragment, as it were, being gathered\nup, and nothing lost.\n\nI used to think, when I first learnt this beautiful lesson, that every part\nof a plant was useful in purifying the air, and also that plants are always\nbusy at this purifying work, and so I liked to keep geraniums and fuchsias\nin my room at night, for I thought that while I was asleep they would keep\nthe air fresh and sweet. But now I know--for as long as we live in this\nworld we can always be learning--that it is only in the daytime, when there\nis light, that a plant can keep the air pure, by using up what we have\nspoilt for our own use, and giving away what is good for us to breathe; and\nalso that, it is only the green part of it that has the power to take out\nof the air the carbonic acid which we are constantly breathing into it,\nusing the carbon for its own food, and giving the oxygen back into the air\nfor our use; the parts which are not green, such as the roots and flowers,\nbreathe just as animals do, and spoil the air for us instead of making it\nmore fit for us to breathe.\n\nYou never thought, did you, that you help to feed the trees, and to keep\nthem alive and green, and that the trees and grass in their turn help to\nkeep you alive?\n\nWe were saying the other day how a ray of light will come through a little\nround hole in the shutters when they are closed, or by any cranny through\nwhich it can force its way. As long as that one ray is shining into the\ndarkened room you may watch the little grains of dust, like bright specks,\ndancing up and down in it. But someone opens the shutters, the room becomes\nall light, and you no longer see those tiny specks--and yet the dust is\nstill there, not only where you saw it, but all over the room.\n\nWhy could you see the dust just where the ray of light shone, and nowhere\nelse? The light did not make the dusty specks, they were in the room\nalready, but it showed them to you.\n\nJust so there are many wonderful things going on around us in earth and sky\nand sea--in what people call Nature--which we cannot see or hear or feel;\nfor God is always working mightily and graciously, unseen and unheard by\nus, though He does allow us to know \"parts of His ways,\" and to look with\nwonder upon many more which we cannot understand.\n\nWe are apt to think that all things continue as they were from the\nbeginning of the world: but in reality the earth is never at rest; it has\npassed through many changes, and still the old story goes on; on the one\nhand there is change and decay, and on the other that constant building up\nand repair by which \"the face of the earth\" is \"renewed.\" Nothing is lost;\nnothing stands still; and things which seem to have no relation to one\nanother, yet depend upon each other and work together in ways more\nwonderful than we could ever have imagined: each is a part of the great\nwhole, and you could not take away any portion without spoiling the rest.\n\nAnd now let us read again the 7th and 8th verses of our chapter.\n\n\"And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the\nfirmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so.\nAnd God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were\nthe second day.\"\n\nWhat are the \"waters which were above\"?\n\nThey are those beautiful clouds which seem to float in the ocean of air. I\nam sure you have often wondered at their pure loveliness, as they sailed\nover the sky, soft and white against the blue, as the foam upon the sea.\nIt was such clouds as these which two little boys saw once when they were\nout driving. They were sitting close together in the back seat, and their\nfather heard them talking about the sky.\n\n\"Look,\" said one of the children, \"God lives in the blue.\"\n\n\"No, Georgie,\" said his brother, \"He lives in the white.\"\n\nThey were both right, for God is everywhere.\n\nA little child of whom I have heard used to think, because she understood\nthat brightness and glory go together, that the stars were holes in the\nfloor of God's dwelling, to let the glory through. In the book of Job the\nclouds are spoken of as \"the treasure-house of the rain and snow,\" and\nas the \"bottles of heaven,\" and these names become full of meaning when\nwe know that the water, which falls from the clouds at every shower, is\nconstantly being drawn up again to fill them once more. This is done by\nwhat is called evaporation, and very much of the water which rises to the\nclouds comes from the sea, along shore, as well as from rivers and lakes.\nHave you seen a pond dry up in summer? No? Then perhaps you have looked\ninto the ink bottle when all the ink had gone, and only some dry black dust\nwas left in it. What has happened? All the water in the ink has flown away;\nthe heat has turned it into vapour, which is lighter than air, and so it\nhas risen up through the air to form part of those snowy clouds which you\nlove to watch, when the light of the setting sun turns them to crimson and\ngold. This change of water into vapour is one of the beautiful things which\nwe cannot often see, but which is always going on. The rain from heaven\nfalls upon the thirsty land, making it bring forth and bud, that there may\nbe bread for us, and food for every living thing; and then, when its work\nis done, all that is not wanted goes back again, and is stored up in the\ntreasure-house of the clouds--nothing is lost.\n\nI remember when we were speaking of this, I asked my children what the\nearth would be like if all the rain that fell remained upon it. Chrissie\nwas the only one who had an answer ready; he said it would soon be a swamp,\nand nothing could grow well, and no one could live. We can all understand\nthat if there were no rain to \"satisfy the desolate ground,\" the earth\nwould soon be a parched desert; but it is just as true that, while the\nrain is such a blessing, if God had not provided for its returning to the\nclouds, the earth would indeed become a desolate waste of water. I must\ntell you that little Dick was very much interested about this, and he\nremembered that he had seen, in a place where the sun was shining, the\nwater going back from the earth to the clouds. \"It went up in streaks,\" he\nsaid, \"and I saw it quite plainly.\"\n\nGenerally we look up at the clouds, but I remember once looking down and\nseeing them below me. I had climbed a high mountain, and just when I got to\nthe top it happened that the peak was quite clear, but around it, a little\nlower down, a wreath of white cloud was floating. Every now and then,\nthrough a rift in the cloud, I could see the beautiful valley below, with\nits smiling fields and winding river, and far away there was the sea, with\nhundreds of green islands; all this I saw for a moment, as if through a\nsoft thin veil, and then the cloud closed again, and shut out the view.\nI can quite understand travellers saying how lovely it is when they sail\nthrough the air in balloons, to get up into a clear still height, and see\nthe \"plains of clouds\" below them. But there is one thing which makes\nvoyages in balloons dangerous. The higher people go, the more thin and\ndifficult to breathe the air becomes. One celebrated traveller, when he\nhad got as high as seven miles in his balloon, lost his senses, and his\ncompanion was nearly frozen to death by the piercing cold. This traveller\ntells us that about six or seven miles above the earth no sound can reach\nthe ear to break the perfect stillness and silence. This is because the\nair at this height is so thin. On the top of Mont Blanc a pistol-shot can\nscarcely be heard even though it is fired quite close; but if the same\npistol were to be fired off in the next field you would hear it, and put\nyour hand to your ears because the report was so loud.\n\nBut what makes the report? The pistol was fired into the air, and hit\nnothing.\n\nIt was the air which was struck, and which sent back the sound. You\nremember learning how light is turned back or reflected. Just as the\nlight-waves come back again, so do the sound-waves; very quickly if the\nreflecting surface is near; after some time if it is far off. You know what\nan echo is. There is a lovely place where some children I know used often\nto go for a picnic. What they cared for most in Coombe Dingle was a wood\nwhich they called the \"Echo wood.\" They would stand beside a gate, and call\nacross the fields, and then listen. Very soon their own words, and even\ntheir own tones, were sent back to them. The waves of air carried the\nsounds along until they reached a pine wood which shut in the field. They\nstruck the tall trees, and were reflected, or sent back again, almost as\nclearly as when first spoken.\n\nJust in this way echoes of sound are, like birds, ever on the wing: the\nwhole air is alive with them. The walls of our rooms give back the tones\nof our voices, but we hear no echo, because they are so near that the\nrepeating of the sound comes almost at the same moment as the sound itself.\nThere are echoes on all sides of us, and no sound is ever lost. How can\nthis be?\n\nIf you stand beside a quiet pool, and drop a stone into it, the stone sinks\ndown to the bottom and lies there; but from the spot where its fall broke\nthe calm surface, ring after ring ripples the water. Just so a single word\ndropped from the lips of a child into the ocean of air is carried on, wave\nafter wave; so that, as a great philosopher once said, \"the air is one vast\nlibrary, on whose pages is for ever written all that man has ever said or\neven whispered.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE \"ECHO WOOD\"]\n\nThere is a poem which you may know, that begins with this line--\n\n  \"Kind words can never die.\"\n\nThis is quite true; but we might alter the first part of it a little, and\nsay, \"No word can ever die.\" Not only the soft, loving words, but the\nrough, angry ones, which we may well wish we had never spoken, all live in\nthis \"vast library,\" and tell their own story.\n\nHow much it ought to make us think about our words, to know they can never\nbe lost!\n\n\nTHE RED, RED SKY.\n\n  \"In the early, early morning, beyond the islands green,\n  Beyond the pines and palm trees, and the purple sea between,\n  Like the glow through a crimson window the morning rises slow,\n  And the isles lie dun in the glory, and the sea is all aglow.\n\n  \"In the dim and misty evening the purple mountains stand,\n  And the glooms that hush the woodlands lie over all the land,\n  And high in dark blue heavens the red light bums and glows.\n  Like the Jasper of God's city, like the deep heart of the rose.\n\n  \"Oh, why does morning dawn, and why ends the golden day,\n  With the crimson glow and glory, while the children kneel and pray?\n  Is it thus that God would tell me before the day begins\n  Of the morn of the Day of pardon, the Blood that has washed my sins?\n\n  \"The morn of the day of gladness, the day of His love and grace,\n  When like the sun in his glory, the Lord unveiled His face,\n  And His love shone forth in beauty where all was dark before,\n  For the Blood had been shed which saved me, once and for evermore.\n\n  \"Is it thus that God would tell me the evening draweth nigh,\n  When we pass beyond the mountains, beyond the purple sky?\n  And then, in God's great glory, the golden gates I see,\n  And sing, 'The Blood of Jesus has opened them for me!'\"\n\nFRANCES BEVAN\n\nTaken, by permission, from _Hymns by Ter Steegen and Others_. Second\nseries.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THIRD DAY.\n\nTHE WORLD OF WATER.\n\n\n\"_The sea is His, and He made it._\"--PSALM xcv. 5.\n\n\"_Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of His hand?_\"--ISAIAH xl. 12.\n\n\"_Who layeth the beams of His chambers in the waters._\"--PSALM civ. 3.\n\n\"_He hath compassed the waters with bounds._\"--JOB xxvi. 10.\n\n\nWe have been learning something about the wonderful world of air, in which\nwe live and move about. To-day we shall think a little of that vast world\nof water which is the home of so many of God's creatures. I daresay you\nknow a pretty song about the ocean, beginning in this way (it is meant to\nbe sung by a sailor):\n\n  \"The sea! the sea! the open sea!\n  The blue, the fresh, the ever free!\n  Without a mark, without a bound,\n  It runneth the earth's wide regions round;\n  It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies;\n  Or like a cradled creature lies.\"\n\nThe philosophers say that if our earth were quiet and at rest, instead of\nbeing the never-resting traveller that it is, the great mass of water would\nsurround it everywhere, just as the atmosphere does. We cannot imagine such\na thing, but we can see many ways in which the two great oceans are alike.\n\nBoth have their waves. Though we cannot see those in the world of air, we\ncan hear them, as you know.\n\nBoth are colourless in themselves, yet blue in their heights and depths.\nBoth are made of two airs or gases, beautifully combined.\n\nAt first sight we might say that this is almost too strange a tale to be\na true one; for few things seem more unlike than air and water. You will\nthink it stranger still when I tell you that one of the gases which goes\nto form water is that same oxygen which gives life to the air we breathe,\nand which will burn so fast if only a tiny spark comes in contact with it;\nwhile the other is the gas called hydrogen, the \"water-maker,\" which also\nburns. And yet these two fiery gases make the water which the brave firemen\npump in streams upon a burning house to put out the flames. How wonderful\nthis is! If you were to mix them together as carefully as you could, using\nexactly the same proportion of each as is found in water, you would make\nsomething very dangerous, which might blow up with a terrible noise like\ngunpowder. It is only when they are \"combined,\" which means very closely\njoined together, that they form water.\n\nPerhaps this is rather hard to understand; but we have been taking only a\nvery little peep into that page of what is called the Book of Nature, which\ntells to those who will take the trouble to read it something about the\nchemistry of things--not so much how they are made, for that is a lesson\ntoo great for us, but what goes to the making of them.\n\nAnd now we are going to read the verses in our chapter which tell us of the\ntime when, at the word of God, \"the sea and the dry land\" were made.\n\n\"And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto\none place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so. And God called the\ndry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called He Seas:\nand God saw that it was good.\"\n\nOnce more you have read these words, \"God said,\" \"God called,\" \"God saw.\"\nThey are quickly read. But who shall say how wonderful is that of which\nthey speak? God has been pleased in these few words to tell us what no\none could ever have found out about the birthday of that mighty world of\nwaters, when it was gathered together unto the place which He had prepared\nfor it, and received its name from Him.\n\nI wonder whether you have ever seen the sea. If you have, you know it and\nlove it so well that there is no need for me to try to describe it to you.\nIf you have not, if your home has always been in the country among the\nquiet fields, far away from the sound of the waves as they break upon the\nstrand; or if you have lived all your life in the town, where the streets\nare full of noise and bustle, and busy folk hurrying to and fro--then I\nthink it would be almost as difficult for me to give you an idea of what\nthe boundless ocean is like, as it was for the kind miner to make his\nlittle friend understand all about seas and lakes and rivers, as he talked\nto him over that poor little pail of water, deep down in the dark mine.\n\nAh! you must see the great ocean-world for yourself; you must sail over the\ncrests of the waves, and learn to swim and dive. If you have never yet been\nto the seaside, there is indeed a treat in store for you some day, and I\nshould like to be with you when that day comes, and catch a sight of your\nface, so full of wonder and pleasure. I remember hearing of a little \"city\nsparrow\" of a boy who was taken with a great many town children to spend a\nlong summer's day by the seaside. When he first came in sight of the bay,\nwith its bright, dancing waters, and saw the tide rolling in, wave after\nwave, upon the yellow sands, he gave one long, satisfied look, and then\nsaid, \"How nice it is to see plenty of anything!\"\n\nPoor child, these words of his told their own touching tale; he had never,\nin his parents' home, known what plenty was, and so his first thought about\nthe \"great and wide sea\" which God had made, was that there was enough of\nit and to spare--no stint there, at any rate. To another little boy, the\nfirst sight of the sea brought this thought, \"How great God, who made it,\nmust be!\"\n\nIt is delightful to live, as I did when a child, within sight and sound\nof the sea; but I suppose it is only those who really live upon the world\nof waters, sailing away in a swift ship, day after day, for thousands\nof watery miles, and seeing nothing but the two oceans, \"the blue above\nand the blue below,\" as that same sailor-song says, who can really know\nanything of its vastness. How strange it must seem, to be neither a fish\nnor a bird, and yet to live as it were between sea and sky; each morning\nfinding yourself farther away from land, each night lying down to be\n\"rocked in the cradle of the deep,\" and to hear the wash of the waves\nas the boat cuts her way through them, and the sighing of the wind, not\nthrough the trees on the lawn, but among the sails and ropes of your\nfloating home!\n\nI have sometimes thought that the sight of \"water, water everywhere,\"\nduring a voyage of three months, must make one more ready to believe what\nwe are told by those who have done what they can in the way of weighing\nand measuring--that upon our globe \"water is the rule, and dry land the\nexception\"; and also that, although we read in geography books about the\nfive great oceans, yet the ocean is really one, for it \"embraces the whole\nearth with an uninterrupted wave.\" As we think of this wonderful wave which\nthus girdles the earth about, constantly breaking against the shore, yet\nalways flowing back again, at its appointed time, into its own place, we\nmay well remember that THIRD DAY of Creation, when \"God spake, and it\nwas done; He commanded, and it stood fast\"; when \"He gave to the sea His\ndecree, that the waters should not pass His commandment.\"\n\nIn a Psalm which has been called the \"Psalm of Creation,\" because it speaks\nof the greatness and glory of God, and of how the Lord shall rejoice in\nHis works, we find a description of what happened at this time. There is a\nbeautiful verse which speaks of God covering the earth \"with the deep as\nwith a garment\"; and of a time when it was so covered and hidden that \"the\nwaters stood above the mountains.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"WHEN SPRING-TIDES ARE LOW\"]\n\nAnd then we read how, at God's word, that waste of waters went into the\nplace prepared for it, and the dry land appeared. \"At Thy rebuke they fled;\nat the voice of Thy thunder they hasted away. The mountains ascend, the\nvalleys descend, unto the place which Thou hast founded for them\" (you will\nfind the verse reads like this in the margin of your Bible). \"Thou hast set\na bound that they may not pass over; that they turn not again to cover the\nearth\" (Psalm civ. 7-9). I was very young when I learnt this long Psalm;\nand though I understood very little of it, and certainly did not know\nthat these verses spoke about what we have been reading of in the Book\nof Genesis, I was very fond of repeating it, and I especially liked the\npart which describes the \"great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping\ninnumerable, both small and great beasts. There go the ships: there is\nthat leviathan, whom Thou hast made to play therein.\" Of course I need not\ntell you that I did not know what the leviathan was; but I liked the name\nbecause it was such a long, difficult word, and I have known other children\nwho were particularly fond of strange and hard names. As we grow older we\nlearn many things; and so--for I told you my home was by the sea--I got, in\ntime, to know the meaning of a very difficult verse; that one which speaks\nof the \"bound\" which God has set, beyond which the sea with its proud waves\n\"may not pass.\" When the tide was coming in I used to watch the long blue\nwaves with their foamy crests coming nearer and nearer, and when I heard\nthem break with a loud noise against the strong rocks I was quite sure that\nthose stern barriers were the \"bound\" which kept them back, and would not\nallow them to come any further.\n\nBut by-and-by I went to a place where the shore was quite different. There\nwere no rocky cliffs, like giants, guarding the land; only a long reach of\nsoft white sand, with which I was never tired of playing--making forts with\nmoats round them to keep off the enemy; or gardens with straight paths, and\ntrim beds in which I planted sea-daisies and poppies.\n\nIt seemed as if there was nothing about this shore strong enough to keep\nback the great waves. They rolled in upon the sand with an angry roar when\nthe wind was high, and swept away my castles and gardens in no time. Still,\neven here there was a bound, for the sea did not overflow the land; and so\nI learnt that those waves, which threaten to overwhelm everything in their\nresistless march, are kept in their place by God, who alone can say to the\nrestless ocean, \"Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall\nthy proud waves be stayed.\"\n\nAs the poet George Herbert has beautifully said,\n\n  \"Tempests are calm to Thee; they know Thy hand,\n    And hold it fast as children do their father's,\n  Which cry and follow, Thou hast made poor sand\n    Bound the proud sea, even when it swells and gathers.\"\n\nI do not mean that the waves, as they rush like an invading army upon the\nland, have no effect upon it. Look at the Map of England, and see how the\noutline of the coast on the east and south has been jagged and broken. Or\ngo and see the Needles in the Isle of Wight, and you will learn how the\nconstant dash of the ocean can hollow out not only caves, but deep coves\nand spreading bays, especially when the land against which it breaks is\nmade of chalk, or some of the softer rocks. Thus in the course of long\ncenturies, the seashore may rise or sink; peninsulas may become islands\nby the narrow neck which united them to the mainland sinking into the\nwater--but whatever the land loses in one place, it gains in another, by\nthe quantity of sand and mud cast up by the waves. Many changes are caused\nby the restless sea, but yet, even in its wildest moods, it owns the\ncurbing hand of its Maker; it may ebb and flow, but still keeps in its\nappointed place.\n\nThis ebbing and flowing, which is caused by the coming in and going out\nof the tides, was a great puzzle to me long ago. I used often to hear the\nfishermen say at what hour it would be \"full tide\"; but I saw no mark which\ncould help them to fix the time, and wondered, when I found their words\ncame true, how they could know so surely. When I was older I learnt, what\nis very interesting, that the gradual rising of the ocean, which is called\nthe \"flow,\" and the gradual going back again of the water, which is called\nthe \"ebb,\" do not happen at any chance time, for nothing is by chance in\nGod's creation, but at regular intervals, and in obedience to one of those\nwonderful rules made by God, which people call the \"laws of nature\"--rules\nwhich never change as the rules which men make so often do. And so we\nnotice that for about six hours from the time when the tide begins to rise,\nthe sea gains upon the land, either stealing on, step by step, over the\npebbly beach, and creeping tip the mouths of the rivers, or, when the winds\nare abroad, rushing over the sand, and dashing against the rocks, as if it\nwould sweep all before it. No power upon earth can stop that steady onward\nmarch of wave upon wave, until the unseen boundary is reached. Then we say,\n\"It is full tide.\" The mighty ocean seems to pause for a few minutes, then\nsome old fisherman, who has known that shore all his life, says, \"The tide\nhas turned\"; and for six hours the gradual fall goes on. At last the lowest\npoint of the \"ebb\" is reached--a few minutes' rest, and then the \"flow\"\nbegins again.\n\nTo those who have seen it all their lives there is nothing strange about\nthis, but when some brave Roman soldiers, who were accustomed to conquer\nwherever they came, saw for the first time this ebb and flow of the tide,\nthey were more frightened than they would have been if they had seen an\narmy of savage men with spears and clubs rushing upon them with their\nfierce war-cry. They were in the presence of a power which they could not\nunderstand, and in terror they besought their general to lead them against\nfoes whom they could face, or to take them back to their own land!\n\nBy-and-by you will be interested in learning more about the tides, but I\nwill only tell you now that they are caused by the sun and moon. Two pair\nof waves travel round the earth every day, the greater pair obedient to the\nmoon, which, because she is so much nearer to us, has a greater power of\ndrawing the water to herself than the sun has; the lesser pair obedient, in\nlike manner, to the attraction of the sun. This is all that I can tell you\nnow about a very difficult subject, and it is more than I told Chrissie or\nErnest when we were talking about the sea; but then you know we had not\nmuch time for matters hard to be explained. One thing which I think we did\ntalk about was the depth of the sea, and I know there were some differences\nof opinion about this as well as about its colour.\n\nFirst of all, then, How deep is the \"deep, deep sea\"?\n\nActually, in some places, five miles deep, about the height of the loftiest\nof mountain-peaks. I have heard that these far-away ocean-depths are very\nquiet and still--no rolling waves ever break their stillness, and this is\nproved in a very beautiful way. At the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, where\noverhead great billows which seem mountain-high are in ceaseless motion,\nthere lie beds of delicate shells, so small that you need a microscope to\nsee their beauty, yet these shells are unbroken; no storm ever reaches\ntheir quiet home; they are among the lovely things which the ocean hides in\nits \"treasure-caves,\" and they only come to light when the long line with a\nclip at the end, which is used for deep-sea soundings, brings them to the\nsurface from those\n\n  \"Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,\n  Where the winds are all asleep;\n  Where the spent lights quiver and gleam,\n  Where the salt weed sways in the stream.\"\n\nThese delicately \"chambered\" shells were once the homes of creatures which\nlived in the sunless depths of the ocean, for though it is totally dark at\nthe bottom of the deep, deep sea, life is now known to exist at all depths\nbelow the surface of the ocean; on the ocean-floor starfishes and their\nrelations abound, and some of those brought from a great depth are very\nbeautiful indeed--telling to those who have eyes to see, the same tale as\nthe little fern buried in the coal--that it is the glory of every created\nthing to show forth something of its Creator, even in hidden places where\nno human eye can trace its loveliness.\n\nI am sure when we speak of the treasures of the sea, you are thinking of\nplaces where pearls lie deep, hidden in the shell of the oyster--but I did\nnot know until lately that not only iron and copper, but also gold and\nsilver, are found in sea water.\n\nAnd now what can we say of the colour of the sea? I used to think that\nit was always a clear green, but that was because the sea which I knew\nappeared to be that colour, for I had seen it only near the shore, where\nthe bottom was fine white sand, and the sunset light made the water shine\nlike an emerald. And so the sea was green to me, and I was often puzzled\nand vexed to find that I could never catch this beautiful green water;\nfor you know that if you dip your bucket where the sea looks greenest\nor bluest, all the lovely colour will seem to be left behind, and your\nbucket-full will look as colourless as water drawn from a well. Where the\nsea is dark blue, you may be sure that it is deep where it looks gold and\npurple, the sun has tinged it with the glory of his rising and setting;\nwhere it is grey and sad, it takes its sorrowful hue from the rain-clouds\noverhead. These are some of the reasons why the sea is of such different\ncolours, but the water is sometimes coloured, to some extent, by myriads of\nliving things which give it a reddish tinge; in the cold Northern Ocean,\nwhere the icebergs are, travellers tell us the sea is green because there\nits tiny inhabitants are green; while those who have sailed in the South\nAmerican waters tell of countless swarms of minute creatures which make\nthem glow like fire on a dark night, lighting up the crest of every wave as\nit rolls past the ship.\n\nThe sea is also coloured by those beautiful plants which we often call by\none common name--seaweeds, but which are almost as varied in their way as\nthe land plants are.\n\nColumbus, when sailing sadly through unknown seas in search of the New\nWorld of which he had dreamed so long, came upon water so covered with long\ngreen weeds that it seemed like a floating meadow, while his vessels could\nhardly make their way through the grassy tangles of what is now known as\nthe Gulf-weed.\n\nI have seen the sea off the coast of Ireland green for miles, with long,\nribbon-like plants covering its sandy bottom, sheltering, and perhaps\nhelping to feed, the millions of crawling and running and swimming\ncreatures, many of them so small as to be nearly invisible, which find\ntheir home there. This sea-grass, or Zostera, the only flowering plant to\nbe found in the sea, is very useful to the poor people who live near the\ncoast. They gather it when the tide is low, and dry it in the sun, and it\nserves them for nice soft beds; though I should think they must always keep\na briny, fishy smell about them.\n\n[Illustration: \"O'ER BANKS OF BRIGHT SEAWEED, THE EBB-TIDE LEAVES DRY.\"]\n\nThe Irish fisher-folk also gather the common brown seaweed with pods, which\nare really air-bladders, and serve to keep it afloat. I have many a time\nwatched the women and children wading among the pools, cutting it from the\nrocks with sickles, and putting it into baskets, which they carry home\non their backs; for this precious harvest of the sea is what they depend\nupon to make their potatoes grow well and yield a plentiful crop. There is\nanother kind of seaweed, of a pretty purple colour, which they eat, and\ncall it by an Irish name which means \"leaf of the water.\"\n\nBut it is far away in the watery valleys of the great Pacific, where the\nsea is very calm, that the ocean forests grow. I have read that there giant\nleaves of the sea grow upon stems longer than those of our tallest trees,\nand spread abroad like waving palms. Though you are not likely ever to\nsee such seaweeds as these, you will find, wherever you may be, though\nmuch more abundantly on some shores than others, some of those beautiful\n\"weeds\"--green, red, or brown--which have their use as well as their\nbeauty; for they help to purify the water, just as plants do the air.\nPerhaps I should not promise more than the brown Tangle and the green Ulva,\nwith its bright lettuce-like leaves; for red seaweeds belong to deep water,\nand are not easy to find. Many an hour have I spent peering and groping\nin the little pools at low water in search of these same much-prized\nrosy-tinted \"flowers of the sea\"; and many a disappointment I have had,\neven after a fortunate find, in seeing how soon the lovely colour faded, in\nspite of all my efforts to keep it.\n\nWe often speak of the \"salt sea\" or \"the briny ocean,\" without perhaps\nthinking how it comes to be salt. I used to think it was because there were\nvast salt mines at the bottom of the sea; but that was only a guess at the\ntruth.\n\nLet us think what happens when there is a heavy shower; how quickly the\nraindrops gather force until they run down the street, making gutters on\neach side! But how unlike the muddy water in these gutters is the rain as\nit fell from the sky--how is this? It is the same water, but as it hurries\nalong each drop picks up and carries with it its own little grain of sand\nor dust. If tiny gutters are tinged by the mud which they carry with them,\nhow much more must this be the case with the great rivers which empty\nthemselves into the ocean! They carry with them not only sand and earth,\nbut the minerals and salts which are contained in them, to form the bed of\nthe ocean. The salt which is thus washed out of the soil by streams and\nrivers is not evaporated, but remains behind, for the sea has no outlet\nthrough which it can again be carried away.\n\nIf you go to Switzerland, you will be able to see for yourself how a great\nriver as it rushes along its course washes away the soil. The Rhone, when\nit enters the Lake of Geneva, is so laden with mud that its waters are\nbrown and turbid. For some distance you can trace the course of this brown\nwater as it makes its way through the deep blue of the lovely lake, not\nmingling with it--but by the time the river reaches the other end of the\nlake it has rid itself of its burden: the mud has sunk to the bottom, and\nthe Rhone flows out a clear stream. This is a strange and beautiful sight\nwhich perhaps you may see some day.\n\nHave you ever noticed how often the sea is mentioned in the New Testament?\nWe read of the Lord Jesus walking beside it, and sailing over it in the\nboat with His disciples. And I daresay you remember how He once sat in the\nboat upon the sea, while He taught the people who were upon the shore. The\nSea of Galilee must have been calm and quiet then, but it was not always\nso. Travellers tell us a great deal about the beauty of this lake, when the\nsky is clear, and the crimson bloom of the Oleanders is reflected in the\nstill water. But they speak also of the sudden and dangerous storms, which\nrush down from the mountains, and turn the glassy lake into a raging sea.\nIn the gospel by Mark we read of just such a storm of wind, when the Lord\nJesus Christ was in the little boat with His disciples crossing over to the\nother side. It was such a terrible storm, that the waves dashed into the\nboat until it was filled with water.\n\n  \"And all but One were sore afraid\n    Of sinking in the deep;\n  His head was on a pillow laid,\n    And He was fast asleep.\"\n\nYes, amid all the tumult and alarm, the Saviour who was often weary in this\nsad world, was sleeping upon the cushion of the boat. He slept on until the\ndisciples came and awoke Him with their cry, \"Master, carest Thou not that\nwe perish?\" Then the voice of the Lord was heard above the rage of wind\nand water, and their cry of terror, as He rose and rebuked the wind, and\nsaid unto the sea, \"Peace, be still.\" The proud waves obeyed that voice of\npower, the wind was hushed, \"and there was a great calm.\"\n\nDo you remember what the Lord said to His disciples, and what they said to\none another, as they \"feared exceedingly\"?\n\nPerhaps you wonder how anyone could be afraid, no matter how dreadful the\nnoise of the winds and waves might be, when the Lord Jesus was there. It\nis true that in that little boat, tossing upon the dark stormy lake, was\nthe One who upholds all things by the word of His power, the One whose word\nthose stormy winds fulfil; but the disciples, though they had been so much\nwith Him, were now to learn a little more who their Master was, and to find\nthat there was no fear of perishing when the Lord of life was with them.\nThey seem to have forgotten, too, that He had said, before they launched\nthe boat, \"Let us pass over unto the other side\"; or they might well have\nafforded to be quiet when He slept, for after He had said those words, they\nwere as sure of being there with Him as if already landed.\n\nHow kind it was of the Lord to put the disciples with Himself, and say,\n\"Let US pass over\"; and how safe and free from fear of harm are those happy\npeople who have trusted themselves, with all they are, and all they have,\nfor this life and the long life that is to come, to this mighty, gracious\nSaviour and Lord! One who knew this great happiness, once wrote these\nbeautiful verses about having Christ in the boat as he sailed over the\nocean of life, with its many storms. He said--\n\n  \"My bark is wafted from the strand\n    By breath divine;\n  And on the helm there rests a hand\n    Other than mine.\n\n  \"One who has known in storms to sail\n    I have on board;\n  Above the raging of the gale\n    I hear my Lord.\"\n\nOnce again in the same gospel by Mark we read of a tempest coming on while\nthe disciples were crossing the Sea of Galilee; but this time their Master\nwas not with them in the boat. He had told them to go to the other side\nwhile He sent away the crowds of people whom He had been feeding with the\nfive loaves and two fishes--and then He had gone into the hill-country to\npray.\n\nThe evening came on, the sky growing dark much more quickly than it does in\nour country, and Jesus had not come to them. Still the disciples rowed, and\ntried to get their boat to land, and still the storm grew louder.\n\n  \"Fierce was the wild billow,\n    Dark was the night,\n  Oars laboured heavily,\n    Foam glimmered white.\"\n\nHow they must have longed to hear again that well-known voice rebuking the\nrough wind, and saying to the angry waves, \"Peace, be still!\"\n\nBut the tired disciples rowed on; and Jesus had not come to them. They did\nnot know what we know, that their Master was watching them; He knew that\nthey could not bring their boat to land, and that they were worn out with\ntoiling at their oars, and were sad at heart too. And so, just at the\ndarkest, coldest hour of that night of fear, the Lord came to His beloved\nones. I have seen a picture of the weary men in their tossing boat, and\na shining figure which is meant for the Lord Jesus, as He came to them,\nwalking upon the white crests of the waves. But no picture can give a true\nidea of that wonderful scene.\n\nDo you remember how frightened all in the boat were before they knew that\nit was the Lord?\n\nThey cried out for fear; and in answer to their cry they heard their\nMaster's own voice talking with them, and saying, \"Be of good cheer: it is\nI; be not afraid.\" Ah, what a change was there!\n\n  \"Sorrow can never be--\n    Darkness must fly,\n  When saith the Light of light,\n    'Peace; it is I.'\"\n\nAnd now, before we come to the end of this \"world of water\" chapter, listen\nto a wonderful story of the sea, told by the only one who could tell\nit--the heroine of the tale.\n\nLook at the map of Scotland, and you will find its most northerly county,\nShetland of the Hundred Isles, lying between the Atlantic Ocean and the\nNorth Sea. Perhaps you know this part of the world mostly in connection\nwith the pretty little shaggy Shetland ponies which feed upon the young\nheather, and are brought to England for children to ride; but those who\nhave visited it can tell very interesting stories about the wild country,\nwith its warm-hearted kindly fisher-folk, and they often bring home with\nthem beautiful shawls which the women and girls knit from the soft wool of\ntheir sheep.\n\nThey tell us that of the hundred islands, about thirty are inhabited. Some\nare large, but others so small that only one or two families live upon\nthem; and others are little more than rocks--the home of sea-fowl of every\nwing.\n\nIn the largest island you will soon find Lerwick, the chief town. Now look\nto the very south for the lofty cliff called Sumburgh Head, and near it\nGrutness Harbour, where they catch the grey fish.\n\nIt was from this harbour that a small vessel, the _Columbine_, set sail on\nSaturday, January 30th, 1886, intending to make the voyage--rough at all\ntimes, but often very perilous in winter--along the coast to Lerwick.\n\nMany a boat had perished on these cruel shores, even since lighthouses have\nbeen placed to warn the seamen from the most dangerous rocks. If you had\nasked the captain of the _Columbine_ about his route, he would have told\nyou that he must steer past Cape Noness, then close to the Isle of Mousa,\nwith its ancient castle built in the time of the Picts; Bressay Island\nwould next come in sight, and then the tall lighthouse which guards Lerwick\nHarbour. He might have told you, too, that upon that January morning he was\nstarting with only one passenger on board--an elderly woman who was leaving\nher home in the south of the island to go and see a doctor at Lerwick, as\nshe had been ill for some months.\n\nThe two men who formed the crew of the _Columbine_ returned the same day as\nthey had set sail, in an open boat belonging to their vessel. They said it\nhad been blowing hard when they started, and they had not got more than\nfour miles on the way when the captain was knocked overboard by a sudden\njerk of the boom. They quickly lowered the boat, and rowed hard to save\nhim; but, sad to tell, all their efforts were in vain, and they were at\nlength obliged to give up the attempt as hopeless, and were about to return\nto the ship, when, to their dismay, they saw that she had drifted out to\nsea, and, with her helpless passenger on board, was now far beyond their\nreach.\n\nThe men pulled with all their strength; but the sea was so heavy, and\nthe _Columbine_ drifted so fast, that the distance between them rapidly\nincreased; and at last they had to turn and make for the shore, which they\nreached with difficulty in their little open boat.\n\nThey told their tale, but nothing could be done to reach the drifting\nvessel. Towards nightfall, some fishermen on the Isle of Mousa, where\nopposing currents meet, and the sea is white with foam, saw the _Columbine_\npass, driven along by the wind. She was soon out of sight, and was heard of\nno more upon the shores of Shetland.\n\nAnd what became of Elizabeth Mouat, the sick and lonely passenger, who\nshared the fate of the abandoned ship?\n\nYou must hear her story, for, wonderful to say, she lived to tell it; and\nI know those who saw her safe and sound in her Shetland home, and heard it\nfrom her own lips. But she had been to Norway meanwhile, a much longer\nvoyage than to Lerwick.\n\nBelow in the little cabin on that Saturday morning, weak from ill-health\nand very sea-sick from the rolling of the vessel, Elizabeth heard the\nalarm on deck caused by the accident to the captain, but knew not what had\nhappened. Presently she heard the boat suddenly lowered, and a terrible\nfear took possession of her mind.\n\n\"I am deserted!\" she said. \"The men have gone off and left me alone in the\nship.\"\n\nWith the strength of despair she left her berth, and tried to get on deck;\nbut just as she was about to mount the ladder, it fell to the ground. She\nhad not power to lift it and put it in its place again, though she tried\nhard and often. But although unable to get on deck, she was just tall\nenough to look out of the open hatchway; and as she looked this way and\nthat, neither captain nor crew were to be seen, only the little boat, which\nthe _Columbine_ was fast leaving behind; and she knew that her worst fears\nwere realised, and she was indeed left alone.\n\nPresently she began to consider what it was best for her to do, in her\nsolitary condition, as far removed from human aid as poor Robinson Crusoe\nupon his island.\n\nThere was plenty of food on board, but it was impossible for her to reach\nit, and she had with her in the cabin only a bottle of milk and two\nbiscuits.\n\nAs night came on, and the vessel still drifted, carried by the wind, she\nknew not where, if Elizabeth had not known how to \"cry unto the Lord\" in\nher trouble, how terrible her feelings would have been! As she stood with\nher head just above the hatchway, ever keeping her anxious watch, and\nsearching the horizon in vain for a sail, the wild seas dashing over the\nvessel often drenched her through and through. She knew that her cries\ncould reach no mortal ear; and still the masterless vessel drifted, drifted\non into the night. But Elizabeth had a strong Refuge. She quietly committed\nherself and the ship to Him, who is \"the confidence of all the ends of the\nearth, and of them that are afar off upon the sea.\" And when the long night\nwore through, and morning broke, again she searched the waste of waters\nwith eager eye, but in vain--no land was in sight, no friendly sail showed\nwhite against the red dawn. Far as eye could reach, nothing could be seen\nbut the sky above, and the heaving ocean below.\n\nBut from that time, during the seven days and nights which followed,\nElizabeth never lost hope. When she told the story of those days, she\nsimply said that she put her trust in God, and that she believed He would\nbring her safely to land. For a whole week she never slept, but every now\nand then stood up and looked around for the sail which never appeared, or\nfor the light which, shining through the darkness, should give token that\nhelp was at hand. Once indeed she saw the red light of a ship, and her\nheart beat high; but the vessel went on its way, knowing nothing of the\nlonely voyager.\n\nThe two biscuits were carefully hoarded, but at last not a crumb remained,\nand for four days she was without food. But in telling her tale, Elizabeth\nsaid that she suffered more from wet and from thirst than from hunger. To\nallay her thirst, she used to lick the drops of rain from the window panes.\nAt last, becoming too weak to keep her constant watch, she tied herself\nclose to the hatchway, fearing lest she might roll away from her post of\nobservation, and be unable to get back to it. And so, for eight days, the\n_Columbine_ and her passenger--so weak and helpless in herself, so strong\nin her trust in God--drifted over the wild waves of the North Sea.\n\nIt was on Sunday morning, February 7th, that a vessel which had lost her\nmast came ashore among the rocks near Aalesund, in sight of a crowd of\nNorwegian villagers. As she drifted in, a woman's head was distinctly seen,\nand a brave young fisherman, taking a rope with him, swam out to her,\nclimbed on board, and found Elizabeth tied to the hatchway, still alive,\nstill confident.\n\nShe was drawn ashore by the rope, and thus her long voyage to Norway ended.\nShe found herself among strangers truly, who spoke a tongue unknown to\nher, but was kindly cared for at a farm-house, until she was sufficiently\nrecovered to be sent home to Shetland, where she received a letter which\nmust have, indeed surprised and pleased her. It was from our gracious\nQueen, and contained a present for Elizabeth of twenty pounds. I am sure\nyou will like to read the letter, so here it is:\n\n\"WINDSOR CASTLE, _March 27th_, 1886.\n\n\"The Queen has been much touched by the account of the sufferings of Miss\nMouat, and was pleased to learn, by her brother's letter of the 20th, that\nshe is recovering her strength.\"\n\n[Illustration: WINDSOR CASTLE.]\n\nDo you not think Elizabeth must be very proud and pleased to show the\nQueen's letter to those who ask her about her voyage to Norway?\n\nA Norwegian gentleman, writing about the place where the dismasted,\nunpiloted vessel drifted ashore, says:\n\n\"Had not the _Columbine_ been steered by an invisible but almighty Hand,\nshe would never have got clear of the thousands of rocks. So furious was\nthe storm that all the boats not taken ashore went down at their moorings;\nand yet the _Columbine_ escaped the network of rocks and skerries, and\npicked out the only place where she could have beached!\"\n\nElizabeth did not see the Lord Jesus walking upon the waves, and drawing\nnear to her in the dark night, as the disciples did; but surely she heard\nHis voice through the storm, hushing her spirit, and saying to her, as He\ndid to them, \"It is I; be not afraid.\"\n\nI know a little girl, older than Sharley or May, who is fond of repeating\na beautiful poem about the storm on the Lake of Galilee. Perhaps you would\nlike to learn it for your next hymn. It is called\n\n  \"TO YONDER SIDE.\"\n\n  \"Behind the hills of Naphtali\n    The sun went slowly down,\n  Leaving on mountain, tower, and tree\n    A tinge of golden brown.\n\n  \"The cooling breath of evening woke\n    The waves of Galilee,\n  Till on the shore the waters broke\n    In softest melody.\n\n  \"'Now launch the bark,' the Saviour cried;\n    The chosen Twelve stood by;\n  'And let us cross to yonder side,\n    Where the hills are steep and high.'\n\n  \"Gently the bark o'er the waters creeps,\n    While the swelling sail they spread;\n  And the wearied Saviour gently sleeps,\n    With a pillow 'neath His head.\n\n  \"On downy bed the world seeks rest;\n    Sleep flies the guilty eye;\n  But he who leans on the Father's breast,\n    May sleep when storms are nigh.\n\n  \"But soon the lowering sky grew dark\n    O'er Bashan's rocky brow;\n  The storm rushed down upon the bark,\n    And waves dashed o'er the prow.\n\n  \"The pale disciples trembling spake,\n    While yawned the watery grave;\n  'We perish, Master--Master, wake;\n    Carest Thou not to save?'\n\n  \"Calmly He rose with sovereign will,\n    And hushed the storm to rest;\n  'Ye waves,' He whispered, 'Peace, be still!'\n    They calmed like a pardoned breast.\n\n  \"So have I seen a fearful storm\n    O'er wakened sinner roll,\n  Till Jesus' voice and Jesus' form\n    Said, 'Peace, thou weary soul'\n\n  \"And now He bends His gentle eye\n    His wondering followers o'er;\n  'Why raise this unbelieving cry?\n    I said, To yonder shore.'\n\n  \"When first the Saviour wakened me,\n    And showed me why He died,\n  He pointed o'er life's narrow sea,\n    And said, 'To yonder side.'\n\n  \"'I am the ark where Noah dwelt,\n    And heard the deluge roar--\n  No soul can perish that has left\n    My res--To yonder shore.'\n\n  \"Peaceful and calm the tide of life\n    When first I sailed with Thee;\n  My sins forgiven, no inward strife,\n    My breast a glassy sea.\n\n  \"But soon the storm of passion raves;\n    My soul is tempest tossed;\n  Corruptions rise, like angry waves--\n    'Help, Master, I am lost!'\n\n  \"'Peace, peace, be still, thou raging breast:\n    My fulness is for thee'--\n  The Saviour speaks, and all is rest,\n    Like the waves of Galilee.\n\n  \"And now I feel His holy eye\n    Upbraids my heart of pride--\n  'Why raise this unbelieving cry?\n    I said, To yonder side.'\"\n\nMcCHEYNE.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THIRD DAY.\n\nTHE EARTH BENEATH.\n\n\n\"_He hangeth the earth upon nothing._\"--JOB xxvi. 7.\n\n\"_The pillars of the earth are the Lord's, and he hath set the world upon\nthem._\"--1 SAM. ii. 8.\n\n\"_As for the earth, out of it cometh bread: and under it is turned up as it\nwere fire. The stones of it are the place of sapphires; and it hath dust of\ngold._\"--JOB xxviii. 5, 6.\n\n\nHave you ever noticed that some words have two meanings, both their own,\nbut giving us very different thoughts about the things of which they speak,\naccording to the way in which we use them?\n\nIt is so with our earth. We may speak of it as the firm ground upon which\nwe stand, and may think of the wonderful time of which we are going to read\nin our chapter in Genesis, when God caused it to bring forth and bud, and\nclothed all its waste places, so that it has been ever since the green\nearth which is so fair to look upon. This is the way in which we generally\nspeak of the earth, is it not?--but we may also think of it, not as it\nappears to us, but as a great globe hung up in the heavens by the mighty\nhand of God, who \"hangeth the earth upon nothing\"; for \"the pillars of the\nearth are the Lord's, and He hath set the world upon them.\"\n\nIf you could look at a star through a telescope, I think the first thing\nthat would strike you is that there is nothing by which it is upheld and\nkept in its place. You might say, as you saw it, as it were, hanging in the\ndepths of the sky, \"Why, it is hung upon _nothing_!\"\n\nIt is just so with our earth: there is nothing that we can see by which it\nis supported, no \"pillars\" for it to rest upon--but yet it is kept in its\nplace. God set it there, and God keeps it there.\n\nThe Hindu has tried to account for this in his own way: he says the earth\ndoes rest upon something; it is supported upon the backs of four great\nelephants and when he is asked, \"Where do they stand?\" he replies, \"Upon\nthe back of a huge tortoise.\" This shows the folly of men who have tried\nto explain what filled the patriarch Job with awe and wonder, even before\nGod had asked him those questions which He alone could answer. \"Where\nwast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare, if thou hast\nunderstanding. Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who\nhath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof\nfastened? or who hath laid the corner stone thereof, when the morning stars\nsang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?\"\n\nOnce in a time of great danger and trouble, Luther wrote thus to a friend:\n\"I recently saw two miracles; you listen to hear of something startling:\nsome great light burning in the heavens, some angelic visitation--some\nunusual occurrence; but you hear only this. As I was at my window, I saw\nthe stars, the sky, and that vast and glorious firmament in which the Lord\nhas placed them. I could nowhere discover the columns on which the Master\nhas supported this immense vault, and yet the heavens did not fall! And\nhere was the other miracle: I beheld clouds hanging above me like a vast\nsea--I could neither perceive ground on which they reposed, nor cords by\nwhich they were suspended, and yet they did not fall upon me.\"\n\nWe find it difficult to think of our own globe as a star; but so it is, and\nwhen you go out at night and look up at the sky, all covered with little\npoints of light, you may remember that our great earth, with its mountains\nand forests, seas and plains, and all its cities and towns alive with busy\nmen and women, is but a tiny speck in God's universe; many of those stars\nwhich seem so small, as their \"twinkle, twinkle\" comes from so far away,\nare themselves suns, larger than that mighty sun of ours which it takes the\nearth a whole year of days to travel round; and all these wonderful worlds\nbelong to Him \"for whose pleasure they are and were created.\"\n\nLooked at in this way, our earth is but one of a group of eight stars,\nwhich have been called planets, or wanderers, because, while other worlds,\nwhich are called fixed stars, keep constantly in the same position with\nregard to each other, these planets are always moving. They have two\nmovements; I think you know that our earth turns round upon itself, as your\ntop does when it spins, and that in this way the changes of day and night\ncome to us; the other movement is that by which it, along with the other\nplanets, travels round the sun.\n\nThis yearly journey round the sun which the earth takes is a long one, but\nso swiftly does it move that it may be said rather to fly than to wander.\nShut your eyes and count \"One,\" \"two,\" \"three,\" \"four,\" \"five\"; in this\nlittle moment of time the earth will have got over a hundred miles of its\njourney. You see it flies along faster than any bird; and what a noiseless\nflight it is! How is it that we do not feel it moving? Ah, you must\nremember that the earth carries _you_ along with it; you know nothing about\nthe rapid journey, and yet you are a traveller in spite of yourself--a\ntraveller round the sun.\n\nAll the planets, like our earth, move round the sun, and are kept in their\nplaces by means of a wonderful power which we cannot see, but which is one\nof those \"laws of nature,\" as the rules which God has made for His great\nuniverse are sometimes called, about which I told you that they never\nalter. It is a law, or rule, that, in the world around us, \"the same causes\nalways produce the same effects.\" If you think a little about this, it will\nbecome plain to you that it is so, and if you observe carefully you will\nsee that this rule is the same in connection with the smallest as well as\nthe greatest things; if it ever seems that it is not so, be sure that this\nis only because you do not yet know all about what you have been observing.\nAnd now learn a little about the beautiful rule by which the planets are\nkept in their places.\n\nTwo hundred years ago, Sir Isaac Newton discovered that everything in the\nuniverse attracts or draws every other thing to itself, and this power or\nattraction he called \"the force of gravitation.\" I cannot do much more than\ntell you the name of this \"law,\" but you will learn more about it one day I\nhope, and see how simple and yet how wonderful it is. An astronomer of our\nown day says, in his _Story of the Heavens_, that there are \"grounds for\nbelieving that the law of gravitation is obeyed throughout the length, the\nbreadth, the depth, and the height of the entire universe,\" and a little\nobservation and thought will enable you to see something of its working in\nthe world around us.\n\nDo you remember my telling you how fond I was of swimming boats long ago?\nWhen my brother and I used to launch our paper boats--not on the river,\nbut in that big tub in the yard--our great difficulty was to keep them\nfrom running each other down, and becoming dismal wrecks before they had\ncompleted their first voyage. We did not know why, but it seemed as if the\nvessels of our tiny fleet _would_ drift towards each other, in spite of all\nour efforts to keep them apart. Have you not found it so with your boats?\nIt certainly was with ours, but we should have been surprised if anyone\nhad told us that as they ran against each other, our paper boats were but\nobeying the \"law of gravitation,\" each little vessel drawing the other to\nitself by a power which it had of attracting it. Knowing this rule makes\nmany things plain. If you throw your ball high into the air, it is sure\nto come down again. Why? Because the earth, which is a much larger ball,\nattracts it to itself by the law of gravitation; by the same law, the drops\nof rain in a shower fall to the ground; by the same law, we and all the\npeople upon the globe are able to stand firm on it; by the same law, the\ngreat earth itself, the moon, and all the planets are kept in their places.\nBut what is the mighty magnet which has power to draw the earth to itself?\nIt is that wonderful globe the sun, which is more than a million times\nas large as the earth; and though it is so far, far away--at a distance\ngreater than we can have any idea of--yet by its mighty power of drawing\nthem to itself, makes our earth, as well as the other planets, move round\nit in the most beautiful order, and keeps them all in their places.\n\nAlthough Newton felt sure that this unseen but resistless power, of which\nhe afterwards spoke reverently as \"the finger of God,\" kept the moon going\nround the earth and the earth round the sun, yet he was at first silent\nabout his great discovery; he worked and waited for long years, until he\nhad proved that it was not merely a happy guess, but that he had really\ndiscovered the rule which governs the motion of sun, moon and stars. Then\nhe explained the reason why the moon is always moving _round_ the earth,\nand the earth and other planets _round_ the sun, instead of all moving on\nin a straight line; it is because everyone of the heavenly bodies attracts\nall the rest, and thus the smaller move round the larger, all in perfect\norder and harmony.\n\n[Illustration: SAILING THE BOAT]\n\nYou must not think that this force set them all moving; it only governs\ntheir movements, the earth pulling the moon to itself, and the sun in\nlike manner pulling all the planets with gentle but resistless power, and\nkeeping them all moving round himself--their glorious centre.\n\nYou will learn by-and-by what has been found out about the other planets.\nAll I shall tell you of them now is, that they are, like the earth, quite\ndark in themselves. The light they give is reflected light from the sun;\njust like the light which comes to us from another planet, which belongs,\nnot to the sun, but to our earth, and indeed is so near home that I am sure\nyou can find out its name for yourself. Of the seven other planets which\nbelong to the sun, the nearest in size to our earth is one which shines\nwith a lovely soft light, and is sometimes the evening, sometimes the\nmorning star. Ask someone to show you Venus; and I think you will soon\nlearn to look for her in the evening, and to love her pure, calm radiance.\nThis star is peculiarly beautiful in the early morning, when she seems to\nshine alone in the sky, and reminds us how, in the last book of the Bible,\nthe Lord Jesus speaks of Himself, and says, \"I am the ... Bright and\nMorning Star.\" What a beautiful name for us to know the Lord Jesus by!\nThere are some children who know Him by that name, and they are watching\nfor that bright star to appear.\n\nI will tell you of one. Her name is Sharley; but she is not May's sister\nSharley, and I do not think she is quite so old. This little girl had been\nobliged to go away from her home, to stay for some time in the Children's\nHospital. This is a bright, pretty place, with pictures and flowers and\ntoys. But it was not at all like home to poor little Sharley; and as she\nthought of her mother and her sisters she sobbed and cried in her little\nbed, and buried her head under the pink quilt, and refused to be comforted.\nA lady came to see her, and brought her a picture-book; but still she hid\nher face, and cried, \"Oh, do let me go home!\" The lady tried to please\nher by showing her a stuffed squirrel, and telling stories about how she\nhad seen the merry little creatures, with their bright eyes and red bushy\ntails, running about in the beech-woods, eating nuts. But no, nothing that\nshe could do or say would win a smile or a bright look. At last she noticed\na little Testament lying upon the tray across her bed, beside the toys\nwhich had been given her to play with, and she said, \"Is that your own\nTestament, Sharley? Will you find the place and read me your favourite\nverse?\"\n\nIn a moment the little girl stopped crying, and turned over the leaves of\nher Testament till she came to the very end; and she put her finger on the\nverse, \"Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.\" As she\npointed to the words the lady read them, and then asked, \"Do you want Him\nto come?\"\n\nSharley did not speak, but nodded her head.\n\n\"Why do you want to see Him? What has He done for you?\"\n\n\"He died for me,\" said the little girl. And then she asked just one\nquestion, \"If the Lord Jesus hasn't come before Monday, do you think mother\nwill come and take me home?\"\n\nI am glad to tell you that little Sharley had not long to stay in the\nhospital; she soon got well enough, to be allowed to go home. But I\ntell you about her that yon may see that she was not too young to know\nwhat the Lord Jesus had done for her, and to be looking out for Him to\ncome--watching for the \"Bright and Morning Star.\"\n\nAnd now I want you to find one more verse about the earth as it hangs in\nthe sky, a very beautiful verse in the fortieth chapter of Isaiah. \"It is\nHe that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof\nare as grasshoppers; that stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and\nspreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in.\" What is meant by the \"circle of\nthe earth\"? You have learnt that the earth is round, like the sun and moon;\nfor you see how round the globe in the schoolroom is, and you know that it\nis meant to be as like the earth in shape as it can be made. Besides, you\nhave read of sailors who have made voyages round the world, and brought\ntheir ships back again to the very place from whence they set sail. It\nseems quite plain to you, now that you have been taught so much about the\nform of the earth, that it must be round. But I wonder whether you have\never thought that, long before a geography-book was written or a globe was\nmade--at a time when no one had ever sailed round the world, but all the\nwise men thought the earth was flat (except where the mountains and hills\nwere), and that if they could only travel far enough, they would in time\nget to the world's end--God had spoken of it as round. He had spoken of\nHimself as the One who \"sitteth upon the circle\" (or \"arch\") \"of the\nearth\"; and of the inhabitants thereof--all the people who have lived and\ndied upon it--as \"grasshoppers\"; creatures of a day.\n\nWhen we learn something about other worlds, and find out that this world,\nso large in our eyes that we cannot think of anything to compare with it\nfor greatness, is yet so small that it is like a grain of sand in the vast\nuniverse which God created at the beginning, we may well ask\n\n  \"Why did the Son of God come down\n    From the bright realms of heavenly bliss,\n  And lay aside His kingly crown,\n    To visit such a world as this?\n\n  \"Why in a manger was He born,\n    Who was the Lord of earth and sky?\"\n\nThe answer to this question is to be found in the verse which you know so\nwell, where the Lord Jesus Christ Himself tells us that \"God so loved the\nworld\"--this place which is \"a little city\" indeed compared with other\nworlds; and the \"few men within it\"--all sinful people who had gone away as\nfar as they could from Him--God so loved this lost world, \"that He gave His\nonly begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but\nhave everlasting life.\" The Son of God gave up \"all that He had\" to buy\nback this lost world, for the sake of the treasure which was hidden there.\nDo you know what that treasure is?\n\nAnd now we will look again at a verse in the Book of Job, which tells us\nsomething very wonderful about the inside of this great globe of ours, upon\nthe fair outside of which we live and move. You would never have thought\nit possible that such a great ball could be weighed. But by weighing and\nmeasuring--not with scales and weights, you may be sure, but by clever ways\nwhich are known to learned philosophers--it has been found out that our\nearth is very, very heavy. The philosophers thought it could not be so\nheavy if it were made of earth and rocks all through, and they wondered\nwhat could be far down beneath the deepest mines, in those secret places\nwhich they could not reach. But long before these wise men had begun to\nweigh and measure, and to guess and wonder, God had said, \"As for the\nearth, out of it cometh bread\"--you know that in many places the surface of\nthe earth is rich with waving corn--\"and under it is turned up as it were\nfire.\"\n\nI remember well when I first heard about this fire always burning at the\nheart of the earth. I had been told that the world was round like a ball,\nand yet that people lived upon every part of it. And when I turned the\nglobe in the schoolroom round until I had found New Zealand--that land\nwhich is just opposite our own country, as you can see for yourself if you\nlook--I used to think how wonderful it was that the New Zealanders should\nbe there \"walking about under my feet,\" as I had been told they were; and a\ngreat desire came into my mind to make a way right through to them, and see\nwhat they were like. I believe I thought they were men who walked on their\nheads, for in those days I much preferred guessing at things I did not\nunderstand, to asking someone who knew how to explain them to me. So you\nsee I understood so very little, that I actually thought that by getting up\nearly and working hard it would be quite easy for me, with my little spade,\nto dig right down to the other side of this mighty globe!\n\nHowever, one day, before I had made more than an opening to my tunnel, I\nlistened to a conversation about digging deep wells and mines. I could not\nunderstand most of what was said, nor did I know the meaning of any of the\nlong words which I then heard for the first time; but there was one thing\nwhich I did understand, and this made me stop short in my work, afraid to\ndig another spadeful of earth. I had thought it would be so delightful to\nwalk through my tunnel, and come out at the other side where the strange\nNew Zealand people lived; but now my great dread was lest I should get to\nthe inside of the earth before I was aware of it, when I had dug perhaps\nonly a little hole; for those who were speaking about it, said how\nimpossible it was to get very far below the surface,--or, as they called\nit, very deep into the \"crust\" of the earth--because of the great heat,\nwhich makes the men who work in deep mines glad to throw off their clothes.\n\"The deeper the bore, the greater the heat,\" they said; and then went on to\nspeak of this crust as if it covered the earth as the shell covers an egg,\nso that I thought it might perhaps be broken just as easily. \"And how\ndreadful it would be,\" I said to myself, \"if I could get to the inside of\nthe earth and find it all on fire!\"\n\nIt was a pity that I did not ask a little about what surprised and\nfrightened me so much, and especially that I did not get someone to explain\nto me the meaning of this new word, the \"crust\" of the earth. I know now\nthat it is the name that has been given to that part of the earth which is\nknown to be firm and solid--the bed of the ocean as well as the dry land.\nBeneath this crust lies the inner part or kernel of the earth, and no one\nknows of what it consists; all that can be done is to examine the rocks\nwhich rest upon it, and whether the lowest of these layers of rock has\nyet been reached, we do not know. If you have ever been to a quarry where\nthe rocks have been blasted and cut away, you have seen a little way down\ninto this earth-crust. I remember once, when I was living in a country\nwarmer than England, seeing a beautiful sight. It was a great quarry in a\nhillside. In part of it men were busy, cutting out the stone and carrying\nit away; but all over one side, which was no longer worked, a beautiful\nvine had woven its lovely green leaves and purple clusters of grapes.\n\nYou would have thought, perhaps, that the side where the rough, hard rock\nwas hidden by the fruitful vine, was the only part of the quarry worth\nlooking at; but the other side, where the quarrymen were at work, was very\ninteresting to anyone who would take the trouble to notice how the rocks\nlay, piled one upon another, and especially to one who had learnt a little\nabout the different kinds of rock of which the earth-crust has been made.\nEven if you have never learnt much of what is called geology, by keeping\nyour eyes open and your mind awake you may see a great deal in the stones\nwhich have perhaps seemed to you most uninteresting. A block of granite\nfrom one of the Dartmoor hills, and a piece of slate from a Welsh\nquarry--how different these two kinds of stone are! We see this at once;\nbut they become much more interesting when we know that each has its own\nhistory. The granite is one of the fire-made rocks, so called because there\nare marks upon it, like letters written long ago, quite plain to those who\nhave the skill to read them; which show that though it is now so hard, it\nwas once soft, as soft as iron becomes when melted by very great heat.\nThe mountains of Devon and Cornwall, the Grampians of Scotland, even Mont\nBlanc, the \"Monarch of Mountains,\" are made of the grey or red granite\nwhich takes such a beautiful polish when cut that it is much prized for\nbuildings.\n\nThe piece of slate has quite a different history. It is one of the\nwater-made rocks, in which so many fossils have been found; while in\nthe fire-rocks there are no remains of anything which ever lived. The\nwater-rocks are so called because water has had so much to do with the\nmaking of them; for they have been very slowly formed by the gravel and\ngrains of sand which have been washed down by streams and torrents, and\nleft behind in their course. In these slate and sandstone rocks the\nwonderful fossil animals, which are to be seen in the Museum, have been\nfound. A fossil means what has been dug out of the earth; and numbers\nof animals are to be found buried deep in the rocks along the coast of\nYorkshire--huge creatures which lived on the earth long, long ago, of which\nthe hard parts, such as bones and teeth, have gradually been turned into\nstone.\n\nAll this is very wonderful to think of, and I am sure the poet, who spoke\nof finding \"sermons in stones,\" was wiser than he knew; but what will you\nsay when I tell you that one kind of rock--the chalk with which you are so\nfond of drawing upon the black-board--is made of shells, most of them very\ntiny ones, which can be seen only by a microscope? What myriads of living\nthings once made their homes in those little shells, and what sort of\nlife they lived, we cannot tell; but there the shells remain in the white\nchalk, and the microscope will show them to you, as it shows so many hidden\nwonders in this wonderful world, where the very great and the very small\nmeet on every hand.\n\nOnly the other day, May brought me a lovely branch of white coral. \"Look,\"\nshe said, \"when baby was out for a walk, a lady gave her this.\" She thought\nit very pretty, but she was surprised when I showed it to her through a\nmagnifying-glass, and told her that it had been made by a very tiny kind\nof jelly-fish; a plant-animal some people call it, of the same kind as the\nsea-anemone; and she wondered still more when we found in a book a picture\nof a coral island, and I told her that such little creatures have been busy\never since the world began, constantly building up the coral-rocks. These\nrocks, which are strong enough to resist the force of the waves, rise out\nof the sea naked and bare, but are soon covered with green, and become the\nresting-place of the sea-birds, until at last they are like that lovely\nisland, fringed with tall cocoa-palms, which we saw in the picture. If it\nwere not for the myriads of tiny jelly-fishes, who work on and on, each\nforming its own little bones from the lime it gets from the sea-water,\ndying, and leaving its skeleton behind for others to build upon, there\nwould be none of these beautiful green isles of the sea of which sailors\nlove to tell us.\n\nWe were speaking of contrasts some time ago; now for a contrast. Beside the\ncoral, with its lovely branching sprays, we will put a piece of coal. You\nthink the coal very black and ugly, not fit to be put alongside the white\ncoral; but let me tell you that there is that in the coal which was once\nfar more beautiful than the coral--which is only a bare skeleton after\nall--could ever be; for, though coal and coral are alike dead now, both\nwere once full of life.\n\nBut the coal, which is certainly more useful than beautiful at present, has\nhad a wonderful past. Besides the fossil-animals which are dug out of the\nearth's crust, there are also fossil-trees and ferns, and it is of them\nthat coal, which seems only like a black stone, is made. I have read that\nin a part of England where there are now great coal mines, for a long time\nno one knew the worth of coal except some old women, who said they could\nmake their fires burn beautifully by putting those black bits of stone upon\nthem. How strange this seems; and what should we do now if we had not these\nblack stones to burn? Coal is generally called a mineral, as all things\nwhich are dug from mines are called; but it is really a vegetable. You may\nperhaps pick up in some swampy place, a piece of wood, very black, which\nbreaks as you handle it. Look at it well, for this wood is being turned\ninto coal; but for what was once a forest to become a coal-mine takes a\nvery long time indeed, with a strange history of change and decay; yet it\nis true that the coal dug out of mines is nothing else than trees and ferns\nand mosses, long ago buried by mud and sand, and so crushed together that\nthey have become like a piece of black stone.\n\nThe other day Chrissie had what you would consider a rare treat, for his\nfather took him and his brother down a coal-mine. They put on some of the\nminers' clothes, and then got into the \"cage,\" and were let down by a\nstrong chain; down, down, until they reached the bottom of the shaft, as\nthe tunnel from the mouth of the coal-pit to the place where men are at\nwork below is called. I have never seen a mine of any kind, but if I ever\nfind myself at the bottom of a coal-pit, I think I shall use my eyes, and\nsee whether, even in such a grimy place, I cannot find something beautiful.\nI shall hold my safety-lamp high, and look carefully at the roof and sides\nof the mine, for I have been told that in all coal-mines remains of the\nplants from which the coal is made are to be found; so I should not be\nsurprised to find here and there in the dark shining walls traces of leaves\nand branches; and upon the hard clay which forms the roof, beautiful\npatterns of ferns, which lived long, long ago, and have lain buried for\nages.\n\n  \"In a valley, centuries ago,\n  Grew a little fern-plant, green and slender,\n  Veining delicate and fibres tender,\n  Waving in the wind, crept down so low;\n  Rushes tall, and moss, and grass grew round it;\n  Playful sunbeams darted in and found it;\n  Drops of dew stole down by night and crowned it;\n  But no foot of man e'er came that way,\n  Earth was young and keeping holiday.\"\n\nWe can speak of the roof and the floor of a coal-mine, because the coal\nlies in what are called seams, between layers of slate or hard clay. I\ncannot tell you much about the sedges and reeds and giant ferns, the\nremains of which have been found in these seams of coal, but I know that\nthey are of the same kind as plants which are now found in damp and warm\nplaces, though they were giants indeed compared with them. Some of these\nold-world plants would not grow in our country now, but there are great\nmare's-tails, just the same as the small ones which I have often found\nbeside a pool of black water on an Irish bog; and I have read that some\nplants with stems fifty feet long, which are found in coal, are of the same\nkind as a pretty little moss which grows upon the mountains almost all over\nEngland.\n\nYou remember the story about the boy who was brought up in a mine. Now I\nwant to tell you about a little girl who did not live in a coal-mine, but\nwas often taken there by her father. Her mother had died when she was a\nbaby, and as she grew older her father was her constant friend, and loved\nhis little daughter so much that he liked to have her always near him. And\nso, though she was only seven years old when he came to work in this mine,\nhe very often took her with him in the cage, and she had leave to stay\nunderground until his work was done and he could take her home again.\nChildren can always find ways of amusing themselves, and this child had a\nhappy time in her strange nursery, and many a merry game she played among\nthe coal. As she grew older her father allowed her to carry a lantern, as\nthe miners did, and she would go fearlessly through the dark passages by\nherself, until she knew all their windings as well as you know the paths in\nyour father's garden.\n\nBut all at once this happy life came to an end: three years had passed, and\nshe was just ten years old, when a great sorrow came to this child. As her\ndear father was going down the shaft one morning the chain broke, and the\ncage fell to the bottom of the mine. When his mates ran to the spot, they\nknew at once that he had been killed by that terrible fall, and slowly and\nsadly they took up his crushed and wounded body and carried it home. The\nfirst thing that the dear little daughter knew about the accident which had\nmade her an orphan child, was when she saw the men, who had worked with her\nfather, coming towards his cottage with their sad burden.\n\nShe at once ran to meet them, asking when father would be home; but the\nsight of their faces soon told her, young as she was, all the truth. When\nfirst she understood what had happened she cried with a bitter cry, for her\nfather was all she had in the world. Then, while the rough miners, amid\ntheir tears, tried to comfort her, she suddenly knelt down on the grass\nwhere they had laid the body and prayed as her dear father had taught her\nto pray.\n\n[Illustration: THE MINER'S LITTLE DAUGHTER.]\n\nWhat a touching thing it must have been to see the child kneeling there,\nand to hear her, in her great grief, say three times over, \"Thy will be\ndone!\"\n\nOne of the miners took her to his home, and they all tried to comfort her.\nAt first it seemed as if she could not recover from the shock, and they\nfeared she would die of grief; but by-and-by she began to try to help\nthe kind woman--who was like a mother to her--in the care of her little\nchildren, and at last she got courage to go down into the mine again, to\nthe very place where her poor father had been killed.\n\nBut she did not come now to run about and play hide-and-seek among the\nwinding ways; those days were over, and the sorrowful time, which had\npassed since then, had taught her precious lessons. Her father's Friend\nwas _her_ Friend now, and she loved to carry the Bible, which had belonged\nto her father, down into the mine, and while the miners were taking their\ndinner or their short rest, she used to sit beside them and read them\nchapters and psalms, and so became a little messenger to tell them of the\nlove of God. Do you know a hymn about shining in this world--where so \"many\nkinds of darkness\" are found--for the Lord Jesus Christ? I do not know\nwhether this child had ever heard of it, but it is very sweet to see that\nthe Lord had taught her to shine--as the hymn says--\"first of all for Him\";\nthen in her little corner in that humble cottage where she tried, in spite\nof her own sore trouble, to be a cheer and comfort to the miner's wife; and\nthen He gave her a little corner in the dark mine where she might shine\n\n  \"Like a little candle\n  Burning in the night.\"\n\nThe rough men loved this gentle child who had known sorrow so early. They\nlistened as she read to them, and used to say she was their good angel. If\nwe remember that an angel means a messenger, we shall perhaps think it not\na wrong name to give to her, since she read to them God's Book, which is\nHis message to us.\n\nWhile we were talking about the earth-crust, I daresay you were wishing to\nknow, as I did, how thick it is--how far down the layers of rocks go, and\nwhat lies underneath the lowest layer of all.\n\nThese are questions which cannot be answered; for no one has ever been able\nto search so far into the hidden parts of the earth as to tell us what lies\nbeneath those fire-rocks, which are the lowest known, although they are\nsometimes found upon the tops of mountains, cast up by a mighty heaving of\nthe crust, such as happens when there is an earthquake, or what is called\nthe \"eruption\" of a volcano.\n\nBut what power could be strong enough to heave up solid rocks, and to make\nthe firm ground upon which we tread, and upon which the houses are built,\nwaver to and fro like the restless sea, so that the strongest buildings\nbegin to totter and fall, and the bravest men run for their lives?\n\nIt is the mighty power of steam--caused by the great heat far down\nbelow--which, when it does come to any part of the earth's surface, makes\nitself known in very terrible ways.\n\nWe do not often hear of earthquakes near home; but in some of the most\nbeautiful parts of the world they are so common that the houses are built\nonly one storey high, and of wood, not stone, because low houses are less\nlikely to fall, and wooden ones are easily built up again, if overthrown. I\nthink you have heard of the boiling springs in Iceland, which burst through\nthe ground, shaking it and making it tremble; just as the steam shakes the\nlid of the teakettle; and rising almost to the clouds, with a noise like\nfireworks; and perhaps you may have seen the hot springs at Bath, from\nwhich a cloud of steam rises almost in the heart of the beautiful old city,\nand which are believed to come from a depth of nearly a mile.\n\nSuch is the force of this steam that even the bed of the sea has been\nheaved up by it into a burning mountain, from which great stones are cast\nhigh into the air; while down its sides flow melted rocks and metals,\nforming the lava which, when seen at night, looks like a stream of liquid\nfire, but quickly cools into a river of mud. All these strange things tell\nus terrible tales of the great heat which is somewhere in the heart of the\nearth, and help us to understand the verse which tells us all we really\nknow about it: \"As for the earth, out of it cometh bread: and under it is\nturned up as it were fire.\"\n\nNew Zealand is a country where there are many hot springs, and several\nmountains which were once volcanoes, but were supposed to have died out.\nOne of these, Mount Tarawera, was situated in what was called the Hot Lake\ndistrict, because there were not only boiling springs, but pools of hot\nwater there. The Hot Lakes valley was not only a lovely green spot, but\nit was noted for the wonderful Pink and White Terraces, which were so\nbeautiful as to be one of the sights which people from all countries came\nto see.\n\nImagine, if you can, basins of white and pink marble rising one above\nanother, filled with water of the deepest blue, by a warm stream which kept\nflowing over them in a constant cascade. You would have enjoyed a bath\nthere, I am sure, and would have been interested to see the country-people\ncooking their food in some of the neighbouring springs where the water came\nfrom so great a depth that it was always boiling.\n\nBut this lovely place was full of hidden dangers; for miles around these\nlakes the ground was hot and crumbling, and in many places so thin that if\nyou did not tread very carefully, you might find yourself sinking into hot\nmud.\n\nIt was in June, which you know is winter-time in New Zealand, in the year\n1885, that the people of Wairoa, a beautiful place where some missionaries\nhad settled that they might teach the Maoris, were awakened at midnight by\na heavy shock of earthquake, accompanied by a fearful roar, which made them\nrush out of their houses in terror. The sight which greeted them was grand\nbut awful. Ernest has a picture of it in his room; but I suppose it would\nnot be possible for any picture to give an idea of what the poor frightened\npeople saw. Mount Tarawera had been asleep for a hundred and twenty years,\nso that it was supposed to have burnt itself out, and to be no longer\ndangerous. But it was awake now: the fearful roar which had aroused the\nsleepers was caused by its having suddenly burst into flame; and it\ncontinued to throw high into the sky fire and mud and stones, while the\ninhabitants of the peaceful little village saved what they could carry, and\nthen fled away in their night-dresses.\n\nAs morning broke, a dense pillar of ashes rose from the burning, roaring\nmountain; the school-house, where sixty Maori boys and girls used to be\ntaught, was struck by lightning; and while burning, overwhelmed with\ntorrents of hot mud and stones. Sad to say, the schoolmaster and most of\nhis family were killed, the two eldest daughters only being rescued from\nthe buried house. How well it is to know that Mr. Hazard and the four\nchildren who were taken out dead from the ruins, were ready, quite ready\nfor whatever might happen, because they knew the Lord Jesus Christ as their\nSaviour!\n\nGod allowed them to lose their lives upon that dreadful day; but for them\nthe eruption of the volcano was only the \"chariot of fire\" by which He was\npleased to take them away in a moment, to be for ever with the Lord, who\nhad loved them and given Himself for them.\n\nThe darkness caused by the ashes which fell in a ceaseless shower for\neighteen hours, continued till noon the next day, when it was seen that not\nonly had the beautiful marble terraces vanished, but the whole valley had\nbeen blown into the air by the tremendous force of imprisoned steam. A\ntraveller describing the scene of desolation says,[Footnote: Miss Gordon\nCumming on \"The Eruption of Tarawera in 1885.\"] \"Even living birds were\ncoated with mud, while for some days after the eruption the poor bewildered\ncattle roamed about this dreary wilderness mad with hunger and thirst,\ngnawing boughs of trees or decayed wood, bellowing pitifully, and with eyes\nbloodshot and nostrils choked with greasy slate-coloured mud, which lay an\ninch thick all over their coats.\" And of the smiling valley itself, she\nsays: \"Where, but a few days previously, the wild fowl were swimming\nsecurely among the reeds and sedges which bordered the quiet lakes, there\nnow exists only a chaotic wilderness of cones and craters all in hideous\nactivity, ejecting clouds of pestilential black smoke and showers of\nstones. One large crater was in full action on the spot where the beautiful\nPink Terrace had hitherto gladdened all visitors by its loveliness, and\nanother apparently close to the White Terrace was throwing up masses of\nblack dust and steam, which rose in columns thousands of feet in height.\"\n\nThere is a verse in the hundred and fourth Psalm which tells how God\n\"touched the hills, and they smoke.\" There are many burning and smoking\nmountains in different parts of the world, besides those which have risen\nfrom the depths of the sea; some of them have destroyed whole cities by hot\nstreams of lava or showers of ashes; there are some whose high peaks are\ncovered with snow, and yet from those snowy heights the fire sometimes\nbreaks forth; and there are others which are called extinct volcanoes,\nbecause the fire no longer breaks forth from them as it once did; but Mount\nTarawera has taught us not to be too sure that a volcano which has been\nquiet for more than a hundred years is really extinct.\n\nHot springs, earthquakes, burning mountains, all tell the same tale:\nsomewhere beneath the earth's surface there is a quantity of heated\nmaterial, and these \"convulsions of nature\" which are so terrible in their\neffects come from the efforts made by it to escape from its prison. A\nfriend who had been in a South American city during an earthquake told me\nof the terror-stricken feeling which he experienced when he ran out of the\nhouse in alarm, only to see buildings reeling and falling, and to feel the\nsolid earth itself rocking beneath his feet, while from beneath came a\nrumbling noise, and a sound as of the clanking of chains. This trembling\nand rocking of the earth has led savage nations to speak of some monster\nunderground turning his huge body. Shocks of earthquakes are occasionally\nfelt in England, and in the north-west of Ireland sheets of lava show that\nvolcanoes were once nearer home than we think. The Giants' Causeway, in\nthe north of Ireland, and Fingal's Cave, in the Island of Staffa, off the\nnorth-west coast of Scotland, have been made by this lava having cooled and\nsplit up into beautifully formed columns, which look like stone pillars.\n\n\n\"BEAUTIFUL THINGS.\n\n  \"What millions of beautiful things there must be\n    In this mighty world!--who could reckon them all!\n  The tossing, the foaming, the wide flowing sea,\n    And thousands of rivers that into it fall.\n\n  \"Oh, there are the mountains, half covered with snow,\n    With tall and dark trees, like a girdle of green,\n  And waters that wind in the valleys below,\n    Or roar in the caverns too deep to be seen.\n\n  \"Vast caves in the earth, full of wonderful things,\n    The bones of strange animals, jewels and spars;\n  Or far up in Iceland, the hot boiling springs,\n    Like fountains of feathers or showers of stars!\n\n  \"Here spread the sweet meadows, with thousands of flowers;\n    Far away are old woods, that for ages remain;\n  Wild elephants sleep in the shade of their bowers,\n    Or troops of young antelopes traverse the plain.\n\n  \"Oh yes, they are glorious, all to behold,\n    And pleasant to read of, and curious to know;\n  And something of God in His wisdom we're told\n    Whatever we look at--wherever we go!\"\n\nANNE TAYLOR.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THIRD DAY.\n\nTHE GREEN EARTH.\n\n\n\"_The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof._\"--PSALM xxiv. 1.\n\n\"_Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it:... Thou preparest them corn,\nwhen Thou hast so provided for it._\"--PSALM lxv. 9.\n\n\"_Every tree is known by his own fruit._\"--LUKE vi. 44.\n\n\nI want you to read carefully verses 11, 12, 13, and then 29 and 30, of our\nchapter in Genesis; for in them God has told us of His work upon the THIRD\nDAY of Creation, when at His word the earth--no longer waste and bare, as\nwhen it came up from beneath the waters--was clothed in garments of beauty;\n\"dressed in living green,\" as the hymn says.\n\nI remember that when we began our morning lesson about the THIRD DAY, we\nnoticed that God caused the earth, which had no life in itself, to bring\nforth that which was alive; for every green thing which grows upon the\nsurface of the earth, no matter how tiny it may be, is quite different from\nthose rocks which form its crust, about which we have been learning. Rocks\nand stones are without life, but every blade of grass which you tread under\nyour feet, every blossom which scents the breeze, is alive.\n\nWe had a good deal of talk about this, for life is a very wonderful thing;\none of those \"secret things\" which belong to God, and which no one has ever\nbeen able to understand. But though we cannot know what this wonderful\nsecret is, we can understand how great a difference there is between living\nthings and those which have never had any life in them. If you were to take\na pebble and hide it in the earth, you might water it every day, and the\nsun might shine upon it, while you waited and waited till you were quite\nold; but no change would come to the pebble, If you dug for it you would\nfind it a pebble still.\n\nBut with a plant, how different! See how those weeds in your garden grow.\nYou may cut them down, or bury them underground--do anything indeed except\npull them up by the roots--and still they will force their way through the\nsoil which you pressed down so tightly over them; their leaves will push\nthemselves up into the light and air, and their roots will strike deep into\nthe earth, for every bit of them is alive; as the \"Song of the Crocus\"\nsays--\n\n  \"My leaves shall run up, and my root shall run down,\n    While the bud in my bosom is swelling.\"\n\nLong ago, when I was a child, I saw a field covered with beautiful white\nthings, smooth and rounded like the top of an egg, which seemed to rise\nhere and there from the grass. They grew out of the ground, but yet they\ndid not look like any flowers I had ever seen. I was told that the pretty\nwhite things were mushrooms, and that I might gather as many as I could in\nmy pinafore, and take them home for breakfast.\n\nYou may fancy how delightful it was to search about in the dewy grass,\nevery minute finding a mushroom finer and whiter than the rest; but what\npuzzled me was the wonder of it--how had they all come there?\n\nThey had grown up in the night, I was told, while I had been asleep in\nmy bed; and I knew it must be so, for I had been in that field only the\nevening before, and had seen nothing there but the sheep, eating the grass\nand daisies.\n\nThe thought of these beautiful white things growing up so quietly in the\nnight-time, when no one could see them, was very wonderful to me, and I\nonly wished that I might stay up all the next night in that field, and see\nthem come, and find out how they grew: I was sure I could keep awake all\nnight!\n\nBut since then I have learnt that there are many, many things about which\nwe grown people, as well as you children, may ask questions, and say, \"How\ndo they come?\" and there is no answer ready for us except that old wise\nanswer--God has made them to be.\n\nI daresay you may have a little garden of your own. Did you ever, in\nspring-time, make a hole in the soft brown earth, and drop into it a little\nblack round seed? Perhaps last March you put in a good many sweet peas, and\nthen covered each one up in its earthy bed, and left them. People told you\nnot to forget to take care of your garden, and so you often watered the\nplace where the seeds lay hidden, and at last you saw something very tiny,\nbut fresh and green and full of life, where only the dark brown earth had\nbeen the day before. You clapped your hands for pleasure, and ran to tell\neverybody: \"My sweet peas are coming up!\" You see you can tell when the\nseeds are growing, but you cannot tell how they grow; you can water the\nground where they are lying hidden from your sight, but when you have done\nall you know how to do, you must still leave them to God's care; for He\nalone can make those little dark balls spring up and grow, and blossom in\nsweetness and beauty.\n\nWhat wonderful thing it was that went on underground so quietly, while you\nwere asleep or at play, neither you nor I can tell; and this dead-like seed\ncoming to life and springing up into beauty is only one of the many things\nwhich go on in this world all around us, seen and known only by God, who\nsays of the seed of His word, sown by His servants--not in the ground, but\nin the hearts of people--that it is He who \"giveth the increase.\"\n\nWe speak of vegetable life as well as of animal life, for I am sure you\nhave not forgotten that plants breathe through their leaves--they drink in\nwater by their roots, and some plants even show that they are sensitive to\ntouch by shrinking if anything comes in contact with them; but how a daisy,\nwith its hardy little stem and its fresh green leaves and \"crimson-tipped\"\nflower, comes to grow out of the earth, we do not know at all.\n\nThe beautiful leaves, fringed with downy hairs, are the lungs of the\nplants; and just as the blood runs through the veins at the back of your\nhand, the sap: which is the life-blood of the plant, runs through some fine\nveins which you see at the back of the leaf. If this sap were to cease\nflowing up the stem, the leaves and flowers would soon droop and die.\n\n[Illustration: GREEN PASTURES.]\n\nLook at the sheep, cropping the grass so busily that they hardly lift their\nheads from the ground. Every time they breathe, they give out air which\nfeeds all the green things around them; and as the green things breathe\nthis air, by the very act they purify it, and give it back to the sheep,\nfit for them to inhale again.\n\nWe see that when God made the world, everything was prepared beforehand. He\ndid not cause the earth to bring forth living things, until all that was\nneedful to keep them alive was ready. Before the beasts of the field were\nmade, the grass, which was to be their food, covered the earth like a soft\ncarpet, and their table was furnished. This is a lesson which we have\nalready learnt, when speaking of \"The Ocean of Air\"--but it is one of which\nwe cannot be too often reminded.\n\nAnd now I want to point out to you that in the eleventh verse we read of\nthree kinds of living things which God caused the earth to bring forth. Let\nus look at them: (1) \"grass\"; (2) \"the herb yielding seed\"; (3) \"the fruit\ntree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed was in itself.\"\n\nLong ago, when I first noticed these three distinct kinds, I could not\nunderstand why there was a difference made between \"grass\" and \"the herb\nyielding seed\"; for the grass in our fields in autumn is, as little May\nsaid, \"all full of pips.\" This was her way of describing those beautiful\nseeds which hang so gracefully that we sometimes gather the long stalks and\ndry them for their beauty, that we may have a winter nosegay when there are\nno flowers to be found. I had forgotten my puzzle about this when, not long\nago, I met with a very interesting book which explained that the grass\nwhich is spoken of in Genesis as the first thing which the earth brought\nforth, was not the grass of our fields. If you look in the margin of your\nBible, you will see that it is there called \"tender grass.\" You might\nperhaps think there is not much difference; but words, which are the names\nof things, are very strong for good or evil. And especially in reading the\nBible, it is important to get the very best English word that can be found\nfor the Hebrew words which we could not understand. The verse has been more\nexactly turned from Hebrew into English in this way: \"And God said. Let the\nearth sprout forth with tender grass.\"\n\nThis word \"tender grass\" is not the same as that which is used in a Psalm\nwhich the children were just then learning, where we read that God \"causeth\nthe grass to grow for the cattle.\" It means rather \"the plant that shoots\"\nout of the ground, and would apply to any green thing just sprouting. It is\nthought that in the word are included all those plants such as mosses and\nmushrooms, whose flowers are invisible, and which multiply not by producing\nseed, but by budding, or by means of little living particles, looking like\nbrown dust, which botanists call \"spores.\"\n\nThese flowerless plants are of much simpler structure than those which have\nroot, stem, leaf and flower, and produce plants of their own kind by means\nof their seeds. If you look at the back of a common fern, you will see\nbrown specks, not bigger than silkworms' eggs, beautifully arranged upon\nit. Each of these is a collection of little cases containing spores, which\nby-and-by will split open, allowing the spores to fall into the ground.\n\n\"Then the spores are the same as seeds, after all\"--you say. No; if they\nwere seeds, each would at once grow into a fern. This is what happens, as\nfar as I can explain it to you: from the spore springs a tiny leaf, which\nroots itself, and it is from this green leaf that the young fern actually\ngrows, until it, as it were, begins life on its own account. The leaf dies\ndown, and the first frond of the new fern peeps above ground, closely\ncoiled up, as you have often seen, if you have been through the woods in\nspring-time. The earliest forms of vegetable life, then, brought forth by\nthe earth at the word of God were the plants which have no seeds: botanists\nhave divided such plants into groups--the seaweeds and lichens, the mosses,\nand the ferns.\n\nOf the seaweeds, the lowest of all groups of plants, we were speaking some\ntime ago. The lichens, though such lowly plants, are very interesting, for\nI have read that every form of lichen is composed of two distinct plants--a\nseaweed and a fungus--so closely interwoven that you cannot tell where the\none ends and the other begins. The lichens range in colour from white to\nyellow, red, green, brown--and some are as black as that rare black pansy\nof which I told you. Each kind has its own peculiar way of growing, and\nthese hardy little plants can live where no other plant can--on the hard\nblack lava, on naked rocks, and even upon the highest snow-mountain.\n\nNext time you pass an old gateway or ruined wall, and notice stains of\nyellow and brown and grey upon it, remember that there the lichens grow;\ntiny plants indeed, whose beauties are revealed only by the microscope, but\neach one of them made by God, and given the means of living by Him, just\nas much as those giants of the forest of which travellers tell us such\nwonderful tales. You may sometimes find a rock, or the trunk of a tree,\nencrusted with dry lichen, and it is interesting to know that these plants\nwhen they decay form the first mould for mosses and ferns, plants which\nbotanists think of as higher in the scale of vegetable life than the lowly\nlichens themselves are.\n\nThe great family of mosses is found not only near home, but even far away\namid the icefields and the snow, where the reindeer searches with its horns\nfor the white moss which is its food, and where Sir John Franklin and his\ndevoted men gathered the black _Tripe de Roche_ upon which they tried to\nlive during those dark months when their ship lay fast wedged between\n\n  \"... those icebergs vast,\n  With heads all crowned with snow,\n  Whose green roots sleep in the awful deep,\n  Two hundred fathoms low.\"\n\nBut prettier than these Arctic mosses are those nearer home. Talking about\nthem makes me think of a place where I wish you and I could go together\nsome beautiful afternoon in winter. It is a lovely little pine-wood near\nBournemouth, to which some boys, with whose friends I was staying during\nthe Christmas holidays, wished to take me to see their favourite walk.\n\n[Illustration: ICE-BOUND]\n\nOnce when we were starting for our run, on a bright frosty morning, and I\nwas rather hoping I should be taken to the sea, I heard them say to each\nother, \"The Pincushion Wood; that's it; do let us go there.\" I wondered\nwhat kind of place this could be but when we had scrambled through some\nheather and come to this pine-wood, I saw at once why they had given it its\nname. Overhead, with their needles against the blue sky, were the pines in\ntheir dark solemn green, but under our feet the ground was bright with moss\nwhich grew, not on stones or trunks of trees, but all by itself in round\nballs, soft and firm and cushiony. You may be sure I was delighted with the\ngreen pincushions: we gathered a quantity of them, and I took one home with\nme, but though I watered it carefully, it soon lost its beauty.\n\nThese moss-balls lay at the roots of the pines, and we could pick up as\nmany as we pleased; but generally even the most delicate mosses grasp the\nsoil, and clasp their soft tendrils round the stones so firmly that you\nneed a knife or a sharp stone to make them loose their hold. One of the\nuses of moss is to protect the rocks from the frost, and from the heavy\nrains which wash them away by degrees. The roots of trees, too, are\ncherished and warmed by the closely clinging mosses; and by holding the\nmoisture from dew and rain, they form where they grow a little bed of soft\nmould, and so prepare the way for plants of larger growth.\n\nDo you know the Trumpet-moss, with its red cups each holding its own little\ndewdrop? Perhaps not, for it is a rare treasure, and needs to be sought\nfor in its own haunts; but there are many green mosses which are very\nbeautiful, and so common that we see them upon every garden wall. There\nis the Hair-moss, the seeds of which are eaten by the birds, while its\ndelicate tendrils serve as soft lining for their nests: it grows\nplentifully beside our streams; but far away in Lapland, during the short\nsummer when the flowers all at once burst into bloom, it may be seen in\nfull beauty. The Laps cut this moss in layers and dry it in the sun, to\nform a soft rug for them to sleep under during their cold nights. Then\nthere is the velvety moss which, like the many-coloured lichen, loves to\ncreep over old buildings, and make the ruined and desolate places bright\nwith a beauty not their own.\n\nSpeaking of mosses reminds me of a story which is told us by a doctor named\nMungo Park, who was nearly lost in an African desert about a hundred years\nago. Day after day he had toiled on, under the burning sun, until he was\nalmost in despair; for he had been robbed and deserted, and felt as if\nthere was nothing left for him but to lie down and die in the wilderness,\nor become a prey to the savage animals which ranged over the country; and\nthe remembrance of those at home in Scotland who would never know what had\nbecome of him, made him sick at heart. As these sad thoughts filled the\ntraveller's mind and took away all his courage, his tired eye lighted upon\na tiny tuft of moss, showing green and fair even in the parched soil of the\ndesert. It was the Lesser Fork-moss which grows in our shady woods, and\nbeside our ponds and ditches. We should perhaps hardly notice it unless we\nwere shown its beauty by a microscope, for it is one of the smallest and\nhumblest of things that grow; but as he looked at it, tears of joy came\nto his eyes. Silently springing up in that thirsty land, the tiny moss\nspoke to the lonely exile of the care of God for the very smallest of His\ncreatures, whether the restless brown bird of which the Lord Jesus spoke\nwhen He bade His disciples not to fear, saying, \"Ye are of more value than\nmany sparrows,\" or the creeping moss which spreads from stone to stone.\n\nIn a moment all was changed for the weary traveller. He felt that he was\nnot alone in that great solitude, for God who had cared for that tuft of\nmoss, and kept it green and fresh by means of some hidden spring, surely\ncared for him, His own child, and would show him the right way out of\nthat desolate place. Thus the burden and the heat were forgotten in happy\nthoughts of the faithfulness of God; and he went on his way with new\ncourage, and soon found the path which he had lost; but he never forgot\nthe message which the little moss had brought him. Though the whole plant\nwas not larger than the tip of his finger, he managed to keep it safely\nthrough all his journeys by land and sea, and had the pleasure of seeing\nit flourish under our cold skies just as well as it had done beneath the\nburning sun of Africa. If you are fond of poetry, you may like to read some\nlines written by the poet McCheyne about this incident.\n\n  \"Sad, faint, and weary, on the sand\n  Our traveller sat him down; his hand\n    Covered his burning head;\n  Above, beneath, behind, around,\n  No resting for the eye he found--\n    All nature seemed as dead.\n\n  \"One tiny tuft of moss alone,\n  Mantling with freshest green a stone,\n    Fixed his delighted gaze;\n  Through bursting tears of joy he smiled,\n  And while he raised the tendril wild,\n    His lips o'erflowed with praise.\n\n  \"'Oh, shall not He who keeps thee green\n  Here in the waste, unknown, unseen,\n    Thy fellow-exile save?\n  He who commands the dew to feed\n  Thy gentle flower, can surely lead\n    Me from a scorching grave.'\"\n\nThe poem has many more verses, but I think these the prettiest. Moss has\nbeen spoken of by a poet as the \"nest of time\"; it has also been called\n\"nature's livery,\" because the earth is clothed with it; and I have read\nthat Mungo Park's little teacher may be found upon many a wall near London,\nand also clinging to those great stones which were once part of the walls\nof far away Jerusalem. It is nice to think that the little green plants,\nwhich we have such reason to love--because they are brightest and best in\nthe winter-time, when all our\n\n  \"Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shining,\n    Blossoms flaunting in the eye of day,\n  Tremulous leaves, with soft and silver lining,\n    Buds that open only to decay.\"\n\nhave faded--grow all the world over; even down in the mines of Sweden the\nshining Feather-moss is said to light up the darkness with a tiny glimmer\nof its own.\n\nWhen we were speaking of the fossil animals which are found hidden deep in\nthe \"crust\" of the earth, you may remember that I told you that upon the\nhard grey-coloured clay which forms the roof of coal-mines beautifully\ntraced patterns of ferns are sometimes found. I have heard that half the\nplants the remains of which are found buried in the coal-measures are\nferns, but ferns which are now known to us as but three feet in height,\nappear in those early times of our earth's history to have been grand trees\nwith trunks three feet through, and fronds of great length.\n\nIf you want to see tree-ferns growing wild now, you must go to New Zealand\nor Australia, or to the south of India: but you may perhaps some day have\nan opportunity of looking at pictures of some of the giant mare's-tails,\nand other plants with beautifully sculptured stems, of which traces have\nbeen found in our own English coal-fields; meantime, look at the vivid\nword-picture which Dr. Buckland has given of what he saw in a Bohemian\nmine. He says: \"The most elaborate imitation of living foliage upon the\npainted ceilings of Italian palaces bears no comparison with the beauteous\nproportions of extinct vegetable forms with which the galleries of these\ninstructive coal-mines are overhung.... The effect is heightened by the\ncontrast of the coal-black colour of these vegetables with the light\ngroundwork of the rock to which they are attached\"--for you must not forget\nthat it is upon the roof of the mine that the impressions of the plants\nwhich have been turned into coal are found, not upon the coal itself,\nthough even there they may be discovered by a microscope.\n\nAnd now leaving the mosses and lichens, ferns and mushrooms, we will turn\nto the \"herb yielding seed,\" and speak of the great family of grasses; and\nto begin with I will quote for you two verses which were brought to me by\nthe children when I had asked for texts about grass.\n\nThis is one: \"If God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and\nto-morrow is cast into the oven, shall He not much more clothe you, O ye of\nlittle faith?\"\n\nAnd the other is: \"The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth\naway: but the word of the Lord endureth for ever.\"\n\nWhen we were speaking about the former of these verses, I told them\nthat by \"the grass of the field\" we must understand not only grass, but\nthe wild flowers which grow upon the green slopes of Palestine in the\nspring-time, when God\n\n  \"Lets His own love-whispers creep\n  Over hills and craggies steep.\"\n\nThey bloom but for a short time--from February to April; for in May a\nburning wind from the desert sweeps over the flowery meadows, and in one\nshort day the grass has withered and its flower has faded. All \"the grace\nof the fashion of it perishes,\" and there is no more beauty in the fields\ntill the return of spring makes them bloom again.\n\nIn a country where wood is as scarce as it is in the Holy Land grass and\nflowers are all cut down together, and burnt to heat the ovens in which\nbread is baked. The flowers of the field may live but a day, and then\nwither on their stalks under the hot breath of the desert-blast; or they\nmay be cut down and \"cast into the oven.\" But the Lord spoke of them that\nHe might teach His disciples that they must not be anxious about how they\nwere to live in this world, because God their Father who \"so clothed the\ngrass,\" cared for them much more than for the birds, and all the helpless\nliving things which are never forgotten by Him.\n\nThe flowers have no care. Those crimson lilies, which shine like stars\namong the grass in Palestine in the spring-time, do nothing to make their\nown rich dress. But God has thought it worth while to clothe them, as well\nas the daisies of our English meadows, in grace and beauty; and fair and\nsweet as they are, not for themselves, but as the overflowings of God's\nbrimming cup of love, From His own word we learn to \"consider the lilies\nhow they grow,\" and receive through them the same lesson which the\nFork-moss taught the lost traveller.\n\n  \"For who but He that arched the skies,\n    And pours the day-spring's living flood,\n  Wondrous alike in all He tries,\n    Could rear the daisy's purple bud?\n\n  \"Mould its green cup, its wiry stem,\n    Its fring\u00e8d border nicely spin,\n  And cut the gold-emboss\u00e8d gem,\n    That, set in silver, gleams within?\n\n  \"Then fling it, unrestrained and free,\n    O'er hill and dale and desert sod,\n  That man where'er he walks may see,\n    In every step, the stamp of God.\"\n\nThe verse which speaks of the \"withering\" of the grass, becomes even more\nstriking if we remember that grass in Eastern lands often grows so tall as\nto reach to the saddle, as a horseman rides through it. But this tall grass\nwithers away as soon as it is smitten by the burning heat of the sun.\nThe apostle Peter speaks of all the glory of man as like grass which has\nwithered; and then, in contrast with what so quickly perishes, he reminds\nof what can never grow old or pass away--\"the word of the Lord,\" which\n\"endureth for ever.\"\n\nWhile we were speaking of the verse in Genesis which tells us that \"every\nherb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth\" was to be food\nfor man, I asked the question: \"What are the grain-bearing plants?\"\n\nEvery voice at once replied, \"Corn\"; and certainly corn is one of the most\nbeautiful, and the plant which has in a special manner given \"bread to the\neater.\" \"But,\" I continued, \"are there not other grasses whose seeds supply\nfood for us?\"\n\nThe children thought awhile, and then said, \"Barley,\" \"rye,\" \"oats\"; and\npresently, thinking of other countries besides England and Scotland,\nsomeone ventured, \"rice\"; and Chris, remembering the tall Indian corn which\ngrows so abundantly in America, suggested \"maize.\"\n\nSo we went on to notice (Genesis 1. 29, 30) that corn and grain of various\nkinds are the food specially prepared by God for man. There was the \"green\nherb\" for the animals and birds and creeping things; and for us, the \"herb\nyielding seed.\" How beautiful it is to see that at the very outset food\nwas provided for man, even before God had made him; and that all through\nthe long years which have passed from that time till now, it has never\nbeen wanting. It is true there have been terrible famine years, when the\nwheat-harvest has perished, or when the rice-crop, upon which the lives\nof thousands of people in India and China depend, has failed from want of\nwater; and the hand of God in judgment may at times be seen in these years\nof drought; but through His goodness in giving \"rain from heaven, and\nfruitful seasons,\" the earth still brings forth food, and will do so, for\nGod's own word assures us that \"while the earth remaineth, seedtime and\nharvest ... shall not cease.\" It is cheering to think of this when we pass\nthrough a corn-field, and admire the red poppies shining here and there\namong the wheat, and the full ears of corn waving in the sunshine, until\nthe field looks like a sea of gold.\n\nInteresting too it is to see, as Ernest and his friend did the other day,\nall that must be done ere those waving ears of corn become a loaf such as\nyou see on the table every morning: for in this country we do not feed on\n\"parched corn,\" as it is described in that lovely story of Ruth the Moabite\nwoman, from whose line descended our Lord Jesus Christ, \"Son of David, Son\nof Abraham.\"\n\nAs they were walking along the road, the boy noticed a large piece of bread\nwhich someone had thrown away.\n\n\"How wrong to throw away such a nice piece as that!\" he remarked to a\nfriend at his side.\n\n\"Indeed it was,\" she replied. \"Whoever threw it away never thought how much\nit cost to make that piece of bread.\" And she began to tell how the hard\nground must be broken by the plough, and smoothed by the harrow, to make\nit ready for the seed; then, after the seed has been sown and covered up,\nwater, air, and sunlight are all needful, that the roots may sink down deep\ninto the earth, and the green stalks shoot up into the light; so that where\nthere was once only the bare brown field may be seen \"first the blade, then\nthe ear, after that the full corn in the ear\"--the harvest-field in all its\nglory. As the \"Sower's Song\" says:\n\n  \"Fall gently and still, good corn;\n    Lie warm in thy earthly bed,\n  And stand so yellow some morn,\n    For man and beast must be fed.\"\n\nThen come the reaping and the threshing, and the winnowing and crushing of\nthe grain, and the making of the flour into bread, and its baking. All this\nmust be done before our tables can be furnished with \"our daily bread.\"\n\n[Illustration: WITH THE REAPERS.]\n\nFor the birds, which \"neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse\nnor barn,\" God makes the grass to grow of itself; but all those\nseed-bearing plants, which He has given to man, must now be cultivated.\nRice needs a great deal of water that it may grow; and corn, if no care\nis given to its cultivation, soon becomes but a poor and useless sort of\ngrass. It must be sown fresh every year in ground which has been made ready\nfor it. Did you ever pluck one of the golden ears from a field of corn, and\nsit down and count how many grains there were upon one slender stalk? And\nthen did you think that every little grain in that ear was itself a seed\nwhich, just as the egg contains the bird that is one day to fly and sing,\nwraps up within itself a young wheat-stalk with all the golden ears which\nmay wave and rustle when next year's harvest time has come? No longer then\nthe one lonely seed dropped by the hand of the sower into the good soil\nprepared for it, but many, many grains instead. So true is it that\n\n  \"A grain of corn an infant's hand\n  May plant upon an inch of land,\n  Whence twenty stalks may spring and yield,\n  Enough to stock a little field.\n\n  \"The harvest of that field may then\n  Be multiplied to ten times ten,\n  Which, sown thrice more, would furnish bread\n  Wherewith an army might be fed.\"\n\nAnd such life is there in seed, that even grains of corn which had been\nhidden away for thousands of years--wrapped up in an Egyptian tomb within\na mummy like those you saw at the Museum the other day--when sown still\nbrought forth fruit; not in Egypt where they first grew, but in England.\nBut those grains which had slept the sleep of ages would never have thus\nwakened into life and fruitfulness unless they had been sown in the earth;\nfor before we can see the \"full corn in the ear,\" the one grain from which\nso many were to come, must \"fall into the ground and die\": in darkness and\nsilence and death the plant is born, and begins to show signs of life. Did\nyou ever think of this?\n\nThe Lord Jesus once spoke of it to two of His disciples, Andrew and Philip.\nI do not know whether they understood then that He was speaking of Himself\nwhen He said the words, \"Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn\nof wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die,\nit bringeth forth much fruit.\" \"Much fruit\"--even that great multitude\nredeemed by His blood, who shall be with Him and praise Him for ever, as\nthey remember how He died that they might live.\n\nI hope that you belong to the happy company who shall sing that new song in\nheaven. If you have known and believed the love of God in giving His own\nbeloved Son to die instead of you, and the love of Christ in coming into\nthe world and laying down His life for you, you can say of the Lord Jesus\nthe very words which the great apostle Paul said, when he spoke of Him as\n\"the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me.\"\n\nHow much there is for us to learn, and how much to admire, in the wonderful\nworks of God! Far, far more than we have been speaking of to-day in the\nlichens, covering the bare rocks with \"cloth of gold,\" and in the leafy\nmosses which the birds weave into soft lining for their nests; the palms,\npines, reeds, and grasses, and the beautiful waving corn, which is God's\nspecial gift to man. But we must now turn to the third division of plants,\nwhich is described as \"the fruit tree yielding fruit after its kind, whose\nseed is in itself.\"\n\nThere is a pretty poem which Sharley learnt the other day, beginning--\n\n  \"I praised the earth, in beauty seen,\n  With garlands gay of various green.\"\n\nWhen she had repeated it to me, I asked, \"What are the 'gay garlands,'\nSharley--flowers?\"\n\nBut no, they could not be, because the flowers are not \"green\"; so Sharley\nanswered that she thought they must be beautiful trees with which the earth\nis covered; for their brightly coloured leaves, especially in autumn, are\nas gay as wreaths of flowers, with their many shades of red and brown, as\nwell as \"various green.\"\n\nThe more we notice the trees and flowers, the more we wonder at their\nloveliness; for God has \"made everything beautiful in his time,\" whether\nthe rich trees of autumn or the tender green of the spring-time, when all\nthe earth seems young again.\n\nBeautiful indeed this earth must have been; still so fair, even in its\nruins; when it came fresh from the hand of God, prepared by Him to be the\ndwelling place of His creatures; but who can tell how fair it will be when\nevery trace of sin and its sad work shall be gone for ever, and the Lord\nJesus, the Prince of Peace, shall reign over it?\n\nAnd although it is all done so quietly and secretly, and seems so natural\nto us that we hardly give it a thought, even still more wonderful than\ntheir beauty is the way in which these trees, yielding fruit after their\nkind, \"whose seed is in itself,\" go on constantly, not only living, but\nproducing other living plants, which increase and multiply, each in its\nturn again producing more and more \"after its kind.\"\n\nPerhaps you save up your pennies, as I did long ago, until you have enough\nto buy a packet of flowerseeds. As you unfold the packet, and see the\npictures of the flowers that are to be, on the little papers inside--the\nscarlet poppy, the yellow marigold, the blue lupin, and the many-coloured\nsweet peas--you almost feel as if you already saw these bright flowers\nblooming in your garden. But open the little parcels one after the other,\nand what do you find? Nothing bright or sweet or beautiful; only little\nbrown seeds, tiny as grains of March dust, or so light and feathery that\nyour breath would blow them away.\n\nDo you then throw them into the fire, and say they are no good? Not so. You\ntake the greatest care of these little grains. You prepare the earth, and\nmake a soft bed for them, then cover them up, carefully marking the spot\nwith the name of the flower whose seed you have sown there. You water that\nbare place, and wait to see green leaves push themselves up through the\ndark soil; for well you know that within each tiny brown seed the flower\nthat is to be, lies hidden.\n\nTo see your seed grow, and your plant live and bloom, does not surprise you\nat all. But how astonished you would be if, in the spot where you had sown\nwhite candytuft, you were to find yellow tulips!\n\nSuch a thing can never be; for the mother-plant from which the seed came\nmust always produce plants of its own kind. You never saw a bean grow into\na cherry-tree, or a pink change into a rose, did you? God gives the seed a\nbody \"as it hath pleased Him, and to every seed its own body.\"\n\nIt is true that what are called \"varieties\" can be produced among\ncultivated plants, as among birds and animals, by change of food and\nclimate, and by care and training. The same plant will soon look very\ndifferent if taken from a dry, sunny spot, and placed in a damp, shady\ncorner. I have heard that if plants are moved from their home on the\nseashore, and placed in a dry, hot place, their thick, fleshy leaves will\nin time quite change their character, becoming thin and hairy. In the same\nway a tree, if given room, will spread its branches wide, but will shoot\nupwards if hemmed in on all sides. It is important, however, to remember\nthat man has never been able by his skill to produce a new kind of either\nplant or animal. But we were speaking of your seeds, so tiny, yet so unlike\neach other. These differences become much more apparent if the seeds are\nlooked at through a microscope, and the varieties in their way of growing\nare endless.\n\nYou know where to look for the tiny seeds of the apple-tree; but may not\nhave noticed, that while they lie safely hidden inside the fruit, the\nstrawberry's yellow seeds are outside. Then some seeds, such as peas and\nlaburnums, grow in pods. Some, like the hips and haws, we must look for\nbetween the stalk and the flower, or in the place where the flower has\nbeen. You may have seen a hawthorn-tree in the spring all white with its\nscented blossoms. If you pass by the same place months later, when spring\nand summer are past, what a change! Where the sweet flowers had been, the\nred berries, which the birds like so well, hang in clusters. This is what\nhas happened: the wind has blown away the soft blossoms; then the parts\nbeneath them which held the seeds grew larger and turned into berries; the\nsun shone upon them and dyed them their brilliant red; and now they are\nquite ripe, and ready for the birds' winter supply; or perhaps one here and\nthere may bury itself in the ground, and become a young hawthorn.\n\nThe power of life in the seed is a very wonderful thing. I have read of a\ngrave far away in Hanover upon which a very massive stone was laid, and\nupon the stone were engraved the words, \"This grave shall never be opened.\"\nWe know that the time will come when the seal of every tomb will be broken,\nbut even now it may be seen that those proud words were written in vain.\nA seed which had fallen into the grave has grown into a tree, which has\nactually raised and pushed aside the heavy stone to make room for itself\nand force its way into the light and air.\n\nI wonder if you ever thought of the fruits which you so much enjoy, as\nseeds? Such they really are. Almonds and grapes and oranges, yes, and\nthe blackberries of the hedges, are either the seeds of plants or what\nare called their seed-vessels, because they hold the seed. But fruits\nlike apples and pears have a double use; they were made not only to\nserve as seed-holders, but God has given them to us for food. And those\nhorse-chestnuts you are so fond of gathering--next time you pick one up\njust stop and think that in the round smooth nut, which you can hide in\nyour closed hand, lies the baby plant which may one day become a spreading\ntree like those you have seen in the park. Can you believe that such a\nmighty tree, with its branches and leaves and blossoms, is folded up in one\nsmall horse-chestnut, such as that with which you were playing the other\nday, whirling it round your head at the end of a string? The life of a\nplant, could it be told, would be indeed a tale of wonder; and I should\nlike to try to tell you a little more about it, as well as something about\nhow flowers are made; but as we have had so long a chapter, we must end\nwith another story, the true story of what a flower, growing alone in a\nyard, just springing up in its green sweetness between the flagstones,\ntaught a poor man who was as lonely as itself, and also very unhappy.\n\nHe was a Frenchman, and had been in prison a long time, because the Emperor\nNapoleon considered him his enemy. One day while he was walking in the\nprison-yard, pacing backwards and forwards, up and down the narrow space\nwhich was allowed him, he noticed something green at his feet, and stooping\ndown to see what it could be, found that a busy little plant was bravely\npushing its way up between the crevices of the paving stones, to reach such\nlight and air as could be found in a prison-yard. \"How could it have come\nhere?\" the prisoner thought. A seed must have been dropped by some passing\nbird, and \"the scent of water\" from some hidden spring must have caused it\nto bud and to send down the slender fibres of its roots, with their little\nsponges, to suck up all the moisture, so that the plant should grow, and\nshoot up those fresh green leaves which had attracted his attention.\n\nIf the poor prisoner had been happy and busy, he perhaps would have thought\nno more of the little plant; but he was very sad and lonely, and he could\nnot be busy as he had no books to read, and all the occupations which he\nmost cared for had been taken from him. So this living thing was to him\nlike a country in which he was constantly discovering some new wonder\nand beauty. He loved to watch the lonely plant, which was, to his fancy,\na prisoner like himself; and when at last the buds unfolded, and the\nflowers--such sweet flowers with such gay colours--bloomed, he was filled\nwith delight; he guarded his treasure with the most anxious care, for if\na hasty foot had trodden it down, he would have lost a friend which had\ncheered for him many a sad hour.\n\nBut I have not yet told you what this prison-flower taught the lonely\nprisoner. As day by day he watched the growth of that humble little plant,\nGod spoke to him. He had spent his life without thinking much about God,\nand when he had thought about Him, he had been like that poor proud man of\nwhom God's word says that he is a \"fool,\" although men may think him very\nclever.\n\nHe had many times said in his heart, \"There is no God;\" and he used to try\nto believe that there was no one greater or wiser than a man like himself,\nand that all that he saw in the world--the mountains, and sea, and all the\nwonderful works of God--came of themselves; or, as he said, \"by chance.\" He\nhad even written these words upon the wall of his cell, \"All things come by\nchance.\"\n\nBut it was not by chance that he was allowed to see something of the work\nof God in one little flower. As day by day he watched the leaves grow, the\nbuds unfold, and then the blossoms open in all their fragrance, he knew\nthat God alone could work the miracle of life and growth which was going on\nbefore his eyes. His proud, scornful heart was bowed in the presence of a\npower at which he could but wonder, for it was past all his understanding,\nand he humbly owned that God had taught him by his pet plant lessons which\nthe wisest men in the world could not have taught.\n\nIt was by means of the flower, too, that at last the prison doors were\nopened, and a message came to tell him that Napoleon had given him leave to\ngo home.\n\nIt would take too long to tell this part of the story, but you will not be\nsurprised to hear that, like the African traveller, he could not bear to\npart with his cherished flower. He carefully dug it out from between the\nstones, carried it home with him, and never forgot the simple but great\nlesson which he had learned while in prison.\n\nWe have been able to say very little about the \"green earth,\" and the\nwonders of the work of God on the THIRD DAY of Creation, but perhaps you\nwill understand something of what a student of nature meant when he wrote,\n\"The earth may be looked at as a vast seed-plot of life, seen from the\npoint of view of the Great Sower.\"\n\nI think you will like these verses which were repeated to me by an old\nfriend who remembered having learnt them from his mother's lips, long ago.\nThey seem just fit to close our chapter about the earth in its verdure and\nbeauty.\n\n  \"All the world's a garden,\n    God hath made it fair;\n  Living trees and flowers\n    He hath planted there.\n  Rain and sunshine giving,\n    All His goodness prove;\n  There is nothing living\n    But has felt His love.\n\n  \"Every home's a garden,\n    Clustering side by side,\n  Each to others yielding,\n    Flow'rets should abide.\n  Word or thought of anger\n    Ne'er should enter there;\n  Buds of loving kindness\n    Opening everywhere.\n\n  \"Every school's a garden,\n    Hedged and fenced around;\n  Nothing vile or useless\n    Should within, be found.\n  Teachers are the gardeners,\n    Sowing precious seed,\n  Training up the tender plants,\n    Plucking every weed.\n\n  \"Every heart's a garden;\n    It should bring forth fruit;\n  But foul weeds and briars\n    In its soil have root.\n  Envy, wrath, and hatred,\n    Malice, strife, and pride,\n  Lies and disobedience,\n    And many more beside.\n\n  \"Cast them out, I pray, Lord,\n    And supply in place\n  Gentleness and goodness,\n    Lovely plants and grace;\n  Patience and longsuffering,\n    Faith and hope and love--\n  These will bear transplanting\n    To the world above.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOURTH DAY.\n\nSUN, MOON, AND STARS.\n\n\n\"_When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the\nstars, which Thou hast ordained: what is man, that Thou art mindful of him?\nand the son of man, that Thou visitest him?_\"--PSALM viii. 3, 4.\n\n\"_The day is Thine, the night also is Thine: Thou hast prepared the light\nand the sun.... Thou hast made summer and winter._\"--PSALM lxxiv. 16, 17.\n\n\"_Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to\nbehold the sun._\"--ECCLESIASTES xi. 7.\n\n\"_One star differeth from another star in glory._\"--1 CORIN. xv. 41.\n\n\nWhen we had got as far in our reading of the first chapter of Genesis as\nthe fourteenth verse, we noticed that it is very like the third; for both\nverses begin with those wonderful words which none but God could say--\"Let\nthere be.\"\n\nBut there is a great difference between the \"light\" of the third verse and\nthe \"lights\" of verses fourteen and sixteen. The sun is called \"the greater\nlight,\" and the moon, which is so very much smaller, \"the lesser light\";\nbut in the language in which this part of the Bible was first written,\nthese two lamps which give us light are called by a name which means, not\nthe light itself, but that which holds it; not, as we might say, the candle\nwhich gives light as it burns but the candlestick in which it is set.\n\nLet us read again carefully what God has told us about His work on the\nFOURTH DAY, and I think we shall see, as we noticed in the chapter on\n\"Light,\" that we are not told that it was upon that Day that the sun and\nmoon were _created_.\n\n\"And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide\nthe day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for\ndays, and years. And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven,\nto give light upon the earth: and it was so. And God made two great lights;\nthe greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night:\nHe made the stars also.\"\n\nYou remember that in the whole of this chapter which speaks of God's work\nin creation, the word \"created\" is used only on three occasions, though in\nthe verse which tells of the creation of man, it is three times repeated\n(verse 27). And now I want you to turn to the hundred and fourth Psalm, and\nnotice the verses which speak of the Days of Creation: you will see that\nlight is spoken of in the second verse, and in the nineteenth we read--\n\n\"He appointed the moon for seasons: the sun knoweth his going down.\"\n\nThose who know the Hebrew language tell us that the word \"appointed\" in\nthis verse is the very same as that which has been translated \"made\" in the\nsixteenth verse of the first chapter of Genesis--so that we may read, \"God\nappointed two great lights,\" just as in the eighth Psalm we read, \"The moon\nand the stars, which Thou hast ordained.\"\n\nWe have seen that God could give light without the sun or moon;--an old\nwriter quaintly says that before the sun was made \"the whole heaven was\nour sun\"--but He was pleased upon this Day of His creation to command the\nlight, which He had called out of the darkness, to gather round the sun,\nso that he might, as the great light-bearer in all his splendour \"rule the\nday\"; and to cause light from that glorious sun to fall upon the moon, so\nthat she, with her silvery shining, might \"rule the night\"--both sun and\nmoon thus giving \"light upon the earth.\"\n\nMay is fond of repeating a verse, which I daresay you know, about a little\ngirl who, when it was too dark for her to see any more, folded up her work\nand put away her playthings with a \"good-night, good-night\" to them; for\nthe time for working and playing had come to an end. \"But,\" the verse goes\non--\n\n  \"She did not say to the sun 'good-night,'\n  Though she saw him set like a ball of light;\n  For she knew he had God's time to keep\n  All over the world, while others sleep.\"\n\nYes; this wonderful \"ball of light\"--so bright that the brightest light\nwe know of looks dull when held up before its dazzling face--is ever,\nnight and day, sending out rays of light and heat, like streams from an\noverflowing fountain, always making daylight somewhere. When you lie down\nin your bed, and settle yourself to sleep sound till morning, your little\ncousins in Australia and New Zealand are just beginning to sit up in\ntheirs, and to rub their eyes, and think it will soon be breakfast time;\nand in the evening, when their day is done, yours will be just beginning\nagain.\n\nIf there were any part of the world upon which the sun never shone, how\ncold and dark and desolate that forsaken spot would be! If no waves of heat\nwarmed the earth, not a seed could spring up; no plant could live, no tree\nbear fruit, no flower lift up its head to the kindly light and show its\nfair colours; for do you not remember we learnt that the colours of flowers\nall come from the sunlight? Without the sun, the green earth would be\nchanged into a frozen desert, with nothing living or moving upon it.\n\nIn old times the clever Greeks, who knew nothing of the God who made this\nwonderful star--for the sun is really a star, and the thousands of stars\nwhich we see on clear nights are suns, some larger and some smaller than\nour sun--worshipped it as the god Helios; and the Grecian philosopher who\nfirst ventured to say it was not so was tried for his life at Athens for\nhis impiety; yet even he saw nothing in this wonderful light-bearer but a\nred-hot stone, half as big as his own country. If you have learnt better,\nif you know that \"to us there is but one God, the Father, of whom are all\nthings, and we in Him; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things,\nand we by Him,\" you can think how good that gracious God has been in not\nleaving the world in the dark and cold, but giving this great light to\nshine upon us, and to cheer us by his warmth. For though the sun is so very\nfar away, \"there is nothing hid from the heat thereof\"; every little leaf,\nevery tiny creature that creeps upon the ground, lives and grows in the\nlife-giving rays of the sun, and would perish without them. Have you ever\nstopped to think of what is more wonderful than this?\n\nGod, who made the sun, is Love, as the text you know so well, tells us; and\nHis love is like His sun, always shining down upon you. All the love and\nkindness which you have known from the day when you came into the world, a\nlittle helpless creature, with \"no language but a cry\"; all this love which\nsurrounds you and has made your life so happy and bright, comes from Him;\nfor \"love is of God,\" and \"God is love.\"\n\nBut it is only when God turns our hearts to Himself, so that we can say\nthat we have \"known and believed\" His love to us, that we can really thank\nHim for it. When one, who knew what it was to have had his own dark heart\nlighted up by this great love, was thinking of these things, he wrote\nsome words which I am going to write down for you, for they deserve to be\nremembered.\n\n\"The creation of the sun,\" he says, \"was a very glorious work; when God\nfirst rolled him flaming along the sky, he shed golden blessing on every\nshore. The change in spring is very wonderful; when God makes the faded\ngrass revive, the dead trees put out green leaves, and the flowers appear\non the earth. But far more glorious and wonderful is the conversion (that\nis, the turning to God) of the soul. It is the creation of a sun that is to\nshine for eternity; it is the spring of the soul that shall know no winter,\nthe planting of a tree that shall bloom with eternal beauty in the paradise\nof God.\" McCheyne wrote like this because he knew that\n\n  \"When this passing world is done,\n  When has sunk yon glaring sun,\"\n\nthe spirit, that part of man which can never come to an end of its life,\nwill still be living somewhere; and that those only who have been turned to\nGod, and are His children by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, will live with\nHim all through that great _for ever_ which will go on when sun and moon\nand all that we can see may have passed away.\n\nAnd now, before I try to tell you a very little about the sun, I should\nlike to know whether you have ever learnt any astronomy. My children\nthought it a hard name, but its meaning is beautiful, for it is only the\nGreek way of saying, \"the law of the stars.\" Astronomy is the science which\nteaches us about the heavenly bodies, as the sun, moon, and stars are\nsometimes called; and all that we can learn about them is very wonderful\nand interesting, so that the more we know, the more we want to know. But\nthe pleasantest way for you to learn would be if someone would talk to you\na little, especially about the stars, and take you out of doors on clear\nnights, and show you some of those which are best known, so that in time\nyou would learn to look for them yourself; _that_ would be a delightful way\nof beginning to learn.\n\nI remember that I had a great wish to know about the different\nconstellations, or groups of stars; I wanted to know where to find Orion,\nwith his seven brilliant stars, and those other seven stars which form the\ngroup called Charles's Wain; from an idea that they are so placed as to\ngive a rough sketch of a waggon and three horses; and the wonderful cluster\nof the Pleiades--for I had heard of all these constellations; but I did not\nlike the trouble of learning about them in difficult books. One day I met a\ngentleman who was very fond of sailing about in his yacht, and I thought he\nwould teach me all about the stars, for I had heard that sailors knew them\nwell. But, to my disappointment, I found that my new friend, though he was\nvery kind to me, was not able to answer my questions; he said he did not\nknow much about the stars, and that it was in the old times, before ships\nwere steered by the compass, that sailors learned so much from watching\nthem; though the moon considered in reference to the fixed stars is of very\ngreat importance as enabling them to ascertain their position.\n\nThough it is a long time ago, I can remember how surprised I was when I\nfirst understood that the sun was a star, and that there are other stars\nvery much like him, but most of them so very far from us that it is not\npossible to measure their distance. We do know how far our sun--the Star\nof Day, as he is sometimes called--is from us. Perhaps it may help you a\nlittle if I tell you that the astronomers say that if the sun was as far\naway from us as the nearest of these stars, he would appear but a point of\nlight; but I think you will best understand how great the distance is if I\ntell you that a train, rushing along at full speed, as you see the express\ngo by, and never resting, day or night, would take two hundred and ten\nyears to reach him.\n\nWe cannot be surprised that very little is known certainly about a star so\nvery far off, and yet nearer to us than any of the little points of light\nwhich you see so thickly sown over the sky; but we know that he is a great\nglobe, like our earth, only twelve hundred thousand times as large--as much\nlarger, I told the children when we were having our lesson in astronomy, as\nMay's curly head was larger than the little blue bead which I put upon it.\n\nBut this great globe is unlike the earth in one respect; for while _it_ is\nin itself quite dark, the sun which is used in the Bible as an emblem of\nGod Himself shines by his own glorious light, and though he is believed to\nbe made of the same materials as our earth, it is likely that they are in a\nstate of very great heat.\n\nAstronomers, who look at the sun through their wonderful telescopes, and\nso get much nearer to him than we can, tell us that we never see the sun\nhimself; but that what we look at is the bright garment of light which is\nwrapped around him. They tell us also about great holes which sometimes\nappear in this bright covering; and they believe that they have actually\nseen, through these holes, the dark globe which is the real sun. These\nholes are called spots upon the sun, and very dark they look upon his\nbright face. The astronomers have long tried to find out what makes the\nsun-spots, and some of them now think that they are caused by furious winds\nwhich make great rents in this bright garment; for they tell us that there\nare sun-storms far more terrible than any storm that ever raged on sea or\nland.\n\nIt was while patiently watching the movement of these dark spots, through\nthe little telescope which he had made and set up in Rome, that Galileo,\nnearly three hundred years ago, discovered that the sun moves round upon\nitself once during twenty-eight days, just as the earth turns round on\nherself once in twenty-four hours. But he lived in a time when it was\nbelieved that our earth was the centre of the universe, and that to say\nthat it was only one of many planets moving round the sun was to deny the\nword of God; so to save his life, he pretended to give up what he knew to\nbe true, and promised that he would never teach it again.\n\nYou remember that our earth has an atmosphere, a globe of air which wraps\nit round. We are told that the sun, too, has an atmosphere--a colour-globe,\nas it is called, because it is believed to be not air, but fiery gas. Then,\noutside this colour-globe, is something very lovely; that corona, or crown,\nof silvery light, which can be seen only during an eclipse of the sun. But\nwhat is an eclipse?\n\nWhen the moon, which has no light of her own, passes directly between the\nearth and the sun, so as to hide his face from us, we say there is a solar\neclipse, or obscuring of the sun's light. When the earth comes directly\nbetween the moon and the sun, instead of the sun's light falling upon the\nmoon, _she_ is eclipsed by the dark shadow of the earth passing over her\nface. I think you may have watched an eclipse of the moon: a solar eclipse\nis a much rarer sight, and there is something awful about it: as the\ndarkness deepens, the stars begin to shine out, and it seems so much like\nnight that the cocks and hens have been known to go to roost at midday.\nIt is then, when the bright, dazzling face of the sun is hidden, that his\nlovely crown is seen, as a ring of soft light appearing all round the dark\nface of the moon.\n\nNow let us think of some of the things that this wonderful Star of Day does\nfor us. In the first place, he is the great source of light and heat, as he\nshines, not for us alone, but upon all the other planets--those which are\nso near to him as to get more heat than we could bear, and those which are\nso far away that it seems to us as if they must be very cold indeed.\n\nBut, if we leave these distant worlds and think of our own, how wonderful\nit is to know that, as we learnt when speaking of Light itself, not from\nthe sun alone, but from every star, waves of light and heat, like tiny\nmessengers from them to us, are always speeding on their noiseless way.\nThey travel to us through space, or rather through something finer than air\nor water, which fills all the room between us and them--for no place in the\nuniverse is really empty.\n\nYou may be surprised to hear that these messengers come from the stars by\nday as well as by night; but remember that they are _always_ shining in\ntheir places in the sky. We cannot see the starlight waves while the sun's\ngreat light is shining upon us; but you know how beautifully they shine on\nclear nights, when there is neither sunlight nor moonlight to quench their\nsoft beams.\n\nBut after all, the stars are so far away that we must think specially of\nour own star, the sun, as the source of light and heat; he also makes for\nus all form and colour, and gives us the pictures drawn by his light which\nwe call photographs, and which make us know something of people we have\nnever seen, and places which we may never visit.\n\nYou remember that sunlight also helps the plants to sift the air, so that\nthey take from it the part that suits _them_, and leave behind the part\nthat suits _us_--that precious oxygen which is so necessary for all animal\nlife.\n\nThen we must not forget the work done by the heat-waves. These are called\n\"dark,\" because they cannot be seen. They not only strike upon the land,\nwaking up the hidden seed, and warming it into life, but they are the great\nwater-carriers. When we were talking about the clouds we learnt that from\nevery wet place, as well as from the seas, lakes, and rivers, water is\nconstantly being drawn up, so that we can see it again in the fleecy clouds\nwhich float across the sky, and again when it comes down in the showers\nwhich water the earth--the tiny heat-waves are the messengers which perform\nthis work of evaporation.\n\nWhen we were speaking about the world of water, we learnt that the moon is\nthe chief cause of the tides, by whose constant ebb and flow the ocean and\nrivers are purified; in like manner the sun, by causing the winds to blow,\nkeeps the air fresh and pure; but this is a subject rather beyond us. We\ncan, however, remember that one more thing which the sun does for us is to\ntell us the time. God gave him \"to rule the day ... and to divide the light\nfrom the darkness,\" and he marks how long our day is to be, \"keeping time,\"\nas May's verse says, all the world over--for he is the great clock which\ntells the hours and the days--a clock which never needs to be wound up,\nand which we can trust, for it never goes wrong. And he is a constant\nsilent witness to us of the power and the goodness of God, as \"day unto day\nuttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. There is no speech\nnor language; their voice is not heard\"--but \"the heavens declare the glory\nof God ... in them hath He set a tabernacle for the sun.\" If, as we look at\nour watches, we are certain that men must have made them, how sure is it\nthat God made this great time-keeper, light-giver, and life-sustainer--this\nmighty magnet that guides and controls the world of which it is the\nglorious centre!\n\nThe sun \"divides the light from the darkness\" by being seen by us or hidden\nfrom our sight. If you watch, after the sun has risen in the morning--and\nyou _can_ watch him in the winter, when you are often up before he is--you\nwill see that he seems to climb the sky, always mounting higher and higher,\nuntil he is shining right above your head. Then, as the day goes on, and\nit gets towards afternoon, he seems to go down, down, until he sinks into\nthe far away place where the earth and sky seem to meet, and we see him no\nmore. It is while he is hidden from sight in the far west, behind that line\nwhich we call the horizon, that night wraps us in its deep shade; for the\nsun, the day-star is, gone.\n\nI wonder whether you have ever thought of this darkness, which would be so\ndreadful did it last long, as one of the blessings which God has given us.\nThe night is the time of sleep and rest for animals and plants, as well as\nfor weary men and women, and children who can get tired even with their\nplay. God watches over you while you sleep--\"the darkness and the light are\nboth alike\" to Him--and you get up in the morning fresh, and ready for a\nnew day.\n\nIt is while we are in this world, which is a place of toil, and labour, and\nsorrow, that we need the rest and quiet which the still, dark night brings;\nbut God has said that there is a rest for His people, His Sabbath, which\ncan never be broken; and when He speaks, in the last book of the Bible, of\nthe bright, golden city, He says, \"there shall be no night there.\"\n\nNot long ago a. boy was dying. He had been ill a long time, and all through\nthe hot summer nights he could not sleep, for his weary cough kept him\nwaking. Frank had not much to cheer him, for his house was in a noisy\nstreet, where the carts were constantly rattling to and fro; and very\nlittle fresh cool air found its way to the room at the top storey, where he\nlay on his bed, often suffering and always very tired.\n\nOnce, when someone brought him some flowers, he was so delighted that he\nburied his poor pale face in them, and seemed as if he would drink in their\nsweetness.\n\n\"Oh, I do love roses!\" he said; and the flowers came as God's own gift to\nhim, in that poor place where nothing green was growing. But better than\nthe flowers was the message which came with them.\n\nThe lady who sent them from her garden was sure that Frank knew the Lord\nJesus Christ as his own Saviour, and that he was on his way to be with Him,\nand so she sent him those precious words which He spoke to His disciples at\nJerusalem, but which belong also to every one who is a child of God through\nfaith in Him--\"The Father Himself loveth you\"--this was the message which\nwas sent with the flowers; a beautiful message, was it not?\n\nBut I wanted to tell you about the last day of Frank's life in that poor\nroom in the noisy street. He was very weak and tired, and could not bear to\ntalk much; but his father sat by his bed, and read to him the last chapter\nof Revelation. When he came to the words, \"And there shall be no night\nthere; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God\ngiveth them light,\" he stopped and said as well as he could, for his heart\nwas sore at the thought of the parting which was drawing so near, \"Frank,\nmy boy, this is your last night; you are going where there is no night.\" It\nwas even so. Before morning came, Frank's redeemed spirit had gone to be\n\"present with the Lord.\"\n\nDo you know a hymn beginning\n\n  \"Oh, they've reached the sunny shore,\n  Over there!\"?\n\nOne of the verses comes to my mind when I think of those last words which\nFrank's father read to him. The hymn speaks of the \"street of shining gold\nover there,\" and then goes on--\n\n  \"Oh, they need no lamp at night,\n  Over there!\n  For their Saviour is their light,\n  And the day is always bright,\n  Over there!\"\n\nThere will be no need of the sun to measure the time when that eternal day\nhas come; but now you know that his presence or absence makes our days\nlonger or shorter. In summer, when he is sometimes above the horizon for\nsixteen hours, what beautiful long, light days we have! But in winter, when\nhe rises late and sets early, our days are sometimes not more than half the\nlength of the longest summer day.\n\nI remember we had rather a long talk upon a difficult subject, after we had\nconsidered how the sun measures the length of our days. We were speaking\nof the verse which tells us that God said, \"Let there be lights in the\nfirmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be\nfor signs, and for seasons, and for days and years.\"\n\nI am afraid I did not make this clear to the children, for it is difficult\nto understand how the sun makes one season different from another; but I\nwill just tell you a little about it, and you may learn more by-and-by.\n\nYou know that there are four seasons: the Spring, when the grass begins to\nshoot forth its fresh blades, and the trees unfold their buds; the Summer,\nwhen the roses bloom and the fruits ripen; the Autumn, when the corn and\nfruits are gathered in; and the Winter, when the earth rests, often closely\nwrapped in a soft mantle of snow.\n\nAll these changes pass before our eyes. But if we wish to understand how it\nis that the sun is the cause of one season being so different from another,\nwe must remember that as the earth takes its yearly journey round the sun\nit changes its place, getting nearer to him or farther away from him. In\nour summer-time the part of the earth where we live is turned more towards\nthe sun, and so gets more of the light and heat which have their home\nthere, than at any other time. Our winter days are so short, because at\nthat time we are turned from the sun more than at any other. And in the\nspring and autumn we are not so much turned away from him as we are in\nwinter, nor so directly in front of him as we are in summer.\n\nYou must remember also what you learnt about the motion of the earth, and\nhow things are not what they seem. You know that the earth turns round once\na day, though it _seems_ as if it stood still, and the sky, with its sun\nand moon and stars, turned round.\n\nWhen you watch the rising sun, remember that, though it seems actually to\nclimb the sky, and to mount higher and higher as the day goes on; and then,\nwhen it is setting, to go slowly down, down, behind the far away hills or\nthe shining waves--it is all seeming. Just as, when you are going along\nin a fast train, the fields and trees and sheep all seem to be in motion,\nflying past you; yet you know that _you_ are moving as the train moves, and\nflying past _them_; so it is not the sun moving across the sky which makes\nday and night, but these changes are caused by the movement of our earth,\nas she spins round upon herself like a great top.\n\nYou remember that Galileo was accused of denying the truth of the word of\nGod, because the Bible speaks in many places of the sun _\"arising\"_ and\n_\"going down.\"_ His accusers forgot that God does not teach us astronomy,\nbut speaks in His word of things as they appear to our eyes.\n\nWe have seen that our earth, with her faithful companion the moon, is not\nonly the traveller round the sun; he is the great centre, and around him\nall the moving-stars, or planets, travel in their varied paths. But the\nmoon has a little journey of her own to take besides this long one, for she\ntravels round the earth, and takes nearly thirty days on her way.\n\nYou know that the moon is always changing; you can never see it for two or\nthree nights quite the same, but it seems each night a little smaller or a\nlittle larger than when you last saw it. When you looked out of the windows\nthe other night, just before you went to bed, it was a very young moon\nindeed that you saw--not more than two days old, as we say in reckoning\nthe moon's age. How small and thin it was--just like a curving rim of pale\nlight upon the dark sky; but as you watch this crescent--or growing--moon,\nyou will see it constantly getting larger and brighter, until from being\nhalf-moon it has become full-moon, for it faces the sun, and is bright all\nover that part which is turned towards you. When we speak of the \"face of\nthe moon,\" we mean that side which is always turned towards us. But why\ndoes \"the gentle moon\" always turn the same face to us? Astronomers tell us\nthat it is because she also turns slowly round on her own axis while she is\ntravelling round the earth. _How_ this is, I don't think I can explain to\nyou: but it is true that we can see only one side of the moon, that side\nwhich catches the sunlight, and that hardly anything is known about the\nother side.\n\nNext time the beautiful moonlight nights come, remember, as you watch all\nthese changes, that this \"waxing\" and \"waning\" of the moon comes to pass,\nnot because she really changes her shape, but because, as she goes round\nthe earth, we see sometimes more, sometimes less of the bright part which\nis lit up by the sun. The moon is dark in herself, like our earth; not like\nthe sun, and those stars which shine by their own glorious light; if she\nhad light of her own, it would be full moon every night; but all that soft\nbrightness which makes everything look so beautiful in the quiet moonlight,\nreally comes from the sun. When the sun has gone down, as it were, into the\nsea, or has disappeared behind some distant mountain, how do you know that\nthere _is_ any sun? Look at the moon \"walking in brightness,\" and remember\nthat it is only as the light of the absent sun falls upon her and is\nreflected from her face (just as Chrissie said he had often seen the light\nof the setting sun thrown back from the windows) that she can shine at all.\n\n[Illustration: \"YON CRESCENT MOON, A GOLDEN BOAT, HANGS DIM BEHIND THE\nTREE, O!\"]\n\nLittle children love the moon. I have seen a baby who could hardly speak,\nclasp her tiny hands and call out, \"Have it! have it!\" as she saw it glow\nlike a lamp behind the trees; and we do not lose this love as we grow\nolder.\n\nWhen we remember that the sun is four hundred times farther away from us\nthan the moon, it makes our earth's silent companion seem very near by\ncomparison; but still you will not think the journey to the moon a short\none, when I tell you that if you could travel through the fields of air,\nrushing along in a fast train, never stopping day or night, it would be\neight months before you got to your journey's end. And when you did get\nthere you would have arrived at a more desolate country than you ever\ndreamed of--a place much like what we might imagine our earth would have\nbecome if there were no water, no air (for if there is air, it is so thin\nthat no creature like any we know could breathe it), no greenness or\nbeauty, though there might be scenery grand in its awfulness.\n\nHave you ever looked through a telescope at the moon? I have. Last summer I\nwas staying at a seaside town, and one evening I noticed a crowd gathered\non the sands. As I came nearer, I found that a man was showing the moon and\nplanets through his telescope to any who wished to see what they could see.\nHe was selling peeps through the telescope, which was a pretty good-sized\none, at a penny a peep. Now, though I had read a great deal about the moon,\nand had seen in books photographs of what are called lunar landscapes, I\nhad never once had a chance of looking at her face through anything but a\nbit of smoked glass, at the time of an eclipse.\n\nSo I paid my penny, and when my turn came I stood upon the stool and had my\npeep. I can only tell you that the moon did not look nearly so beautiful to\nme through the showman's little telescope as she did when my peep was over,\nand I saw her once more sailing through the deep blue of the sky, the queen\nof night indeed.\n\nI had read that astronomers had found that the nearer their great\ntelescopes brought them to the moon, the more like a barren rock she\nbecame, and when I had this nearer view of her than ever before, she looked\nto me just as she had been described, like \"a burnt-out cinder.\"\n\nYou know the shadowy figure which you can see, sometimes more distinctly\nthan at others, on the face of the moon (when I was a child I was told that\nit was \"the man in the moon\"!), this appearance is caused by deep valleys,\nor by the shadows of terrible mountain peaks, which were once volcanoes,\nthrowing out smoke and lava. While I was looking through his telescope, the\nshowman pointed out to me two of the highest of these peaks, and told me\ntheir names, that is the names which the astronomers had given them; for\nthese rocky heights have been marked upon maps of the moon, just as the\nWelsh mountains are marked upon the map of England and Wales. Upon these\nmaps we can find Mount Tycho, Mount Gassendi, Mount Copernicus--all of\nthem extinct volcanoes--and the name of Apennines has been given to a vast\nmountain-chain; and the heights of all these mountain peaks have been\nascertained by measuring the shadows cast by them. There are oceans and\nseas also marked upon these moon-maps, but they were named at a time when\nit was not yet known that they were great plains; for, as I told you, no\ntrace of water, cloud, or even mist has been discovered there.\n\nAre you sorry to hear that the moon which looks so lovely to our sight, is\nfound by those who can get a nearer view to be such a weird and desolate\nplace that it seemed as if only death reigned there? I know I was, when\nfirst I read about it, and saw a picture of the moon, and wondered at its\nbare mountain peaks, with their rugged craters and dreadful precipices, and\nits \"Ocean of Storms\" and \"Lake of Death,\" as two of the sea-like plains\nhave been called. I wondered how it could have become, as it were, like a\ndead earth; but this is one of the things which God has not told us about.\nWhat He _has_ told us is that He made this \"lesser light to rule the\nnight,\" and as she moves over the sky in her calm silent beauty, she speaks\nto us of His goodness in giving not only the sun to rule by day, but the\nmoon and stars to rule by night, those wonderful stars whose silent voice\nis ever making known His power, and telling of His glory; as the poet\nAddison has beautifully said--\n\n  \"For ever singing as they shine,\n  The hand that made us is Divine!\"\n\nThis is a long chapter, but we have been speaking of a vast subject, and\nbefore I close it, I want to refer to two wonderful things about the stars,\nto which God draws our attention in His word. He tells us that \"one star\ndiffereth from another star in glory,\" and astronomers have discovered\nthat there was a deeper truth than they at first imagined underlying these\nwords.\n\nBut what I specially want to speak of for a moment is the number of these\nheavenly bodies, and their distance from us.\n\nIn the hundred and thirty-seventh Psalm, two verses are placed close\ntogether, the one speaking of the power and greatness of God, the other of\nHis tenderness and compassion towards His creatures.\n\n\"He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.\"\n\n\"He telleth the number of the stars; He calleth them all by names.\"\n\nAnd in the Book of Job we read--\n\n\"Is not God in the height of heaven? And behold the height of the stars,\nhow high they are!\"\n\nThere are wonderful things to learn about the colour of the stars, some\nyellow like our own sun, others of a dazzling whiteness, and others giving\nout beautiful rainbow-coloured light. But these wonders you must study\nby-and-by; just now we will speak first of their amazing number, as they\nappear to our eyes when by the help of the telescope we peer deeper and\ndeeper into the blue depths of the sky. When alluding to the stars in a\ngeneral way we include the seven planets--one of them our own earth--which\nmove round our sun, and are as it were so near home that five of them may\nbe seen without the telescope--though not more than three are visible at\nthe same time--and also those myriads of \"fixed stars,\" all of which are\nsuns, many of them much larger than our own glorious sun, and removed from\nour ken by distances which our minds refuse to grasp.\n\nI have been told that the number of stars which can be seen with the naked\neye is five thousand, but that only half that number are visible at the\nsame time.\n\nIf you ask me how many can be seen with the help of the telescope, I cannot\ntell you, because more powerful glasses are constantly being made, only to\ndiscover worlds beyond worlds, ever new and more distant, strewn in space\nlike golden dust, while stars hitherto invisible through the most powerful\ntelescope can now be made to leave the impress of their rays upon the\nphotographic plate--so that a great astronomer of our time can show us\npictures of \"invisible stars.\"\n\nGod who made them, God who has appointed to each its own path through the\nheavens, and also guides and controls each world and system of worlds in\nits course, so that in all His universe there is no jar, no clash, no being\nbefore or after time--He alone can tell their number.\n\nAnd when we consider their height, their amazing distance from us and from,\neach other, the wonder only grows.\n\nIf we think of the worlds hung in space like our own, our nearest neighbour\namong them, the \"red planet Mars,\" is thirty-five millions of miles away,\nwhile the grand planet Saturn--the \"ringed world\"--though lighted up by our\nsun, is so distant, so \"_high_,\" that the ever-hasting traveller whom we\nimagined some time ago rushing through space at the speed of an express\ntrain, would take two thousand years on his endless journey. Yet Saturn's\nrays actually come to our eyes from this vast infinity of distance--while\nthe light of the nearest star--and you know we say \"quick as light\"--takes\nmore than four years to reach us.\n\nThese things, so far beyond our scanty thoughts to conceive, are indeed too\ngreat for us, but how simply the Bible speaks of them--\n\n\"By the word of the LORD were the heavens made; and all the host of them by\nthe breath of His mouth.\"\n\n\"By His spirit HE hath garnished the heavens.\"\n\n\"It is HE that buildeth His storeys in the heavens.\"\n\nIn the next chapter you will read a true story which I told my scholars as\na reward for their attention while we had been speaking on a very difficult\nsubject. I hope you will be as much interested in John Britt as they were.\n\nHere are some beautiful verses, speaking of the way in which \"the heavens\ndeclare the glory of God,\" and my story shows how they may \"utter forth a\nglorious voice\" to ears closed to every earthly sound.\n\n  \"The spacious firmament on high,\n  With all the blue ethereal sky,\n  The spangled heavens, a shining frame,\n  Their great original proclaim.\n  Th' unwearied sun, from day to day,\n  Doth his Creator's power display.\n  And publishes to every land\n  The work of an Almighty Hand.\n\n  \"Soon as the evening shades prevail,\n  The moon takes up the wondrous tale,\n  And nightly to the list'ning earth,\n  Repeats the story of her birth:\n  While all the stars that round her burn,\n  And all the planets in their turn,\n  Confirm the tidings as they roll,\n  And spread the truth from pole to pole.\n\n  \"What though, in solemn silence all\n  Move round this dark terrestrial ball;\n  What though no real voice nor sound\n  Amidst their radient orbs be found;\n  In reason's ear they all rejoice,\n  And utter forth a glorious voice;\n  For ever singing as they shine--\n  The hand that made us is Divine.\"\n\nADDISON\n\n\n\n\nSTORY OF A DEAF BOY WHO HEARD THE SUN PROCLAIM THE GLORY OF GOD.\n\n\nThis story is about an Irish boy who was deaf and dumb. Do you know what\nthat means? Thank God, you who cannot know. I have been in a school where\nevery scholar was deaf and dumb. These children had been patiently taught\nthe finger language, and they had also learnt to express themselves by the\nquicker language of signs, so that they could understand a great deal, and\ncould do many clever things; but it made me very sad to see so many of them\nat once, for I knew that this world was to them a silent world. They could\nsee people speak and smile, but never hear one sound; they might watch the\nfingers of anyone who was playing the piano move quickly over the keys, but\nnot one note of music could reach them. Think how sad it must be never to\nhave heard your mother's voice, never to be able to speak to those you love\nexcept by signs, which can tell so little of what you want to say, even\nif they are understood. Ah, you cannot tell _how_ sad it is! Ernest and\nSharley and May were with me when we went to the school; and when some of\nthe elder boys acted little plays, just as you might act \"dumb charades,\"\nto amuse the visitors, they were delighted with their cleverness, and\nlaughed heartily; and I daresay the boys were pleased to see them laugh,\nthough they could not hear them. These boys spoke very quickly on their\nfingers, and wrote beautifully on the black board, in answer to questions\nwhich they were asked. I do not remember what these questions and answers\nwere; but I know we all thought some of the questions too difficult, and\nwondered at the good and thoughtful answers which were given. They reminded\nme of the reply to a difficult question I once saw a deaf and dumb boy\nwrite.\n\nThe teacher of his school asked the visitors who had come to see it, to\nput any questions they liked to the boys. Some questions in history and\ngeography and arithmetic were asked and answered; and then a lady said,\n\"Ask them to tell what is the amount of the Christian's riches.\"\n\nThere was a pause; but presently a boy of fourteen stepped forward, took\nthe chalk, and wrote this text as the answer: \"Having nothing, and yet\npossessing all things.\" I think he must have known what it is to be \"rich\nunto God.\"\n\nIt is sad to think that when the ear, that \"gateway of knowledge,\" is shut,\na poor child may, for want of teaching, and often for want of love and\nsympathy, grow up almost like an animal; his friends thinking him stupid,\nbecause he cannot ask questions or tell anything that is in his mind, until\nat last he really becomes stupid, and his mind grows dull from want of use.\n\nI am glad to tell you that a way has lately been found, by which children\nwho have never heard a sound may be taught, not only to understand the\nspeech of others, but to speak themselves. It is true that their talk\nsounds strange and unnatural, and is not easy to understand, but where\nthis method is known it makes a wonderful difference in the lives of the\npoor children who have been so cut off from intercourse with others.\nBy carefully watching the lips of their teachers, those who learn this\n\"lip-reading\" can tell what is said, and I have seen them write it down,\njust as you would write a dictation lesson; and quite as correct, though\nthey only see the words, and you hear them. But before they have learned to\nunderstand in this way, and still more before they have learned to speak,\ngreat patience is needed, both in teachers and children. I have heard that\nin the schools where lip-reading is taught, the children are forbidden to\nmake signs to each other or talk on their fingers, and so some of them\nlearn this much better plan wonderfully quickly.\n\nSometimes children become deaf after a fever, sometimes from a fall or\na heavy blow, or from a fright; some are born so. I do not know how it\nhappened in the case of this boy whose story I want to tell you, because\nthe lady who has written an account of him never knew him till he was\neleven years old; but I think he must either have been born deaf, or have\nlost his hearing when he was a baby, for he had never spoken a word, and up\nto the time when his story begins he had never been taught anything. His\nname was John Britt, but everybody called him Jack; not that it mattered\nto him what, he was called, for he had never heard his own name, nor the\nshouts of the boys with whom he played, nor the crowing of the cocks, as\nthey flapped their wings in his mother's yard; all the world was dumb and\nsilent to poor Jack.\n\nWhen he first came to the house of the lady who was to be such a kind\nfriend to him, Jack looked a very stupid boy. I am sure he was shy too, for\nhe had never before been in any house but the poor little cottage where he\nwas born, or the cottages of the neighbour folk; and when this lady from\nEngland tried to make him understand that she wanted to be friends with\nhim, he kept looking round at all the fine things in her drawing-room. Some\npeople would have thought him a very rude boy, but she only watched him\nwith pitying eyes, and longed to teach him about God. But how could she\nbegin to teach him, since he could not hear a word she said?\n\nThis was what May was most anxious to know; and I could not tell her how\nthe very beginning was made, nor how Jack liked his first lesson. It must\nhave been a very difficult task, but you know what you have often heard,\n\"Where there's a will there's a way.\" Jack's lady greatly longed to do\nsomething for the poor boy; she was deaf herself, and was obliged to use\nan ear trumpet, by which the voices of those who spoke to her were brought\nnearer to her ear, and perhaps this made her pity one who had never heard\nat all, more than she might otherwise have done. But God had given her a\nfeeling of love and tenderness towards him, and a great longing and earnest\npurpose to help him, and He showed her the way to put His truth within the\nreach of this poor boy, whose life had been almost as lonely as if he had\nbeen, shut up in prison, and gave her faith and patience, and courage to\nundertake what seemed a hopeless task. One of the things she did was to\nget a box of letters, and she held Jack's hand while he copied them on a\nslate--I think this must have been his first real lesson--and when he had\ncopied the letters a great many times, without any idea of what he was\ndoing, but just to please his kind friend, she took the three letters D-O-G\nand put them together. Her pet dog was lying in his basket by the fire, and\nshe pointed to him, and then pointed to the letters, and after she had done\nthis over and over again many times, she saw that the boy was beginning to\nunderstand that the letters, in some strange way, must have something to\ndo with the dog. When this step was gained, she threw the D, O, and G back\ninto the box, and Jack had to pick the three letters out, one by one, and\nput them together again. Then, when this word was quite learnt, she taught\nhim the names of other things which he knew--all in three letters--and last\nof all showed him how to make the letters on his fingers, teaching him what\nis called the deaf and dumb alphabet.\n\nAll this seemed a pleasant game to poor Jack, and he little thought that he\nwas being taught to read, and to speak on his fingers while he was playing\nat it. As time went on, the boy became very quick at this game; he knew how\nto write a great many words, and to spell them in the finger alphabet, and\nthe more he learnt the more he wanted to know. He now began to bring all\nsorts of things to his teacher, spelling \"W-h-a-t, what,\" on his fingers\nagain and again, until she had taught him their names. She saw that his\nmind, which had been almost asleep, was fast waking up, and she prayed God\nto show her how to teach this child not only words and names, but that\n\"fear of the Lord\" which \"is the beginning of knowledge.\"\n\nJack's lady well knew that though he was so clever and quick at learning,\nhe knew nothing about the God who had made him for Himself, nor about the\nLord Jesus Christ who had paid such a price--His own precious blood--to\nredeem poor Jack, and buy him back for God. She never forgot while\nteaching him, that he had within him a priceless treasure of which he knew\nnothing--that immortal spirit which must go on living always,\nsomewhere--and so, more and more earnestly her cry went up to God: \"Teach\nme how to teach this boy about Thee!\"\n\nAt last the opportunity come. One day Jack pointed upwards at the sun, and\nshowed by signs that he wished to know who had made that great light in the\nsky--had his lady made it?\n\nShe shook her head, as he next made signs for the names of two or three\npeople, asking whether the sun had been made by them; and then she pointed\nto heaven and spelled G-O-D. She told him three things about God: He was\ngreat, He was kind, He was always looking at Jack.\n\nSoon after this the boy came again with his eager \"_What? what?_\"--and\nexplained that he could not find out how the sun was made, because it was\nso bright that he could not keep looking at it; but he said he knew all\nabout the moon. It was rolled up into a ball and then sent across the sky,\njust as he would roll a marble along the floor. And the stars--he knew all\nabout them too; someone had cut them out with a pair of scissors, and stuck\nthem into the sky.\n\nI need not tell you that the children, who had just been learning that the\nstars are suns, were much amused at this notion of Jack's.\n\nAnd now this poor boy began to search for God. He came to his lady and told\nher that she was \"bad Ma'am,\" and had told what was not true; for he said\nhe had been everywhere to look for God, he had even got up in the night to\ntry to find Him; but nowhere, in the streets or in the fields, had he seen\nanyone tall enough to reach the sky, so that he could put up his hand and\nstick the bright stars there. And so he repeated many times, \"God, _no_;\nGod, _no_,\" until she could not bear to hear him; for she knew that Satan\nwas trying to take away from him the thought of God, and make this poor boy\nlike the fool of whom the fourteenth Psalm speaks, who \"said in his heart,\nNo God.\" Jack's lady was silent, for she knew not what to say; but again\nshe prayed to God to teach her how to teach him; and then she did what the\nboy thought a very strange thing, and I am sure you will think it so too.\n\nA pair of bellows was hanging beside the fire; she took them and began to\nblow the hot coals into a ruddy flame. Then suddenly she turned to Jack\nand blew puff, puff, at his hand. He did not like the cold air, and shrank\nback. When she blew again, saying, \"What? what?\" just as he had done, he\ngot angry and said she was bad, and it made him cold. She still pretended\nto be very much surprised that he should feel anything uncomfortable, and\nlooked all over the bellows as if in search of something; then she blew\nagain, and explained that she could not see anything, repeating just as he\nhad done, \"Wind, _no_: wind, _no_.\"\n\nWith joy and wonder she saw that her lesson had been understood. Putting\ntwo fingers side by side--the only way which he could think of to express\nlikeness--Jack repeated over and over, \"God like wind; God like wind.\"\n\nAfter this he often spoke of God; once when he had been trying to look at\nthe sun, he shut his dazzled eyes and spelt on his fingers, \"God like sun.\"\nThe lightning was to him \"God's eye\"; the rainbow, \"God's smile\"; and of\nliving creatures he would say, patting them kindly, \"God made, God made.\"\n\nAbout this time, while Jack's lady was still praying for him, and asking\nGod to show her how to teach him the sweet story of the love of the Lord\nJesus Christ his Saviour, a fever came to the place, and the boy saw the\nstrange and sad sight of many funerals passing along the road, as one and\nanother of those whom he had known when they were strong and well, fell\nsick and died. One day he spoke about them, asking by signs whether they\nwould ever open their eyes again. Without answering his eager question, the\nlady took a piece of paper and began to draw, and Jack stood by looking\nat her. It was a strange picture, and she went on explaining it as she\ndrew. First Jack saw a crowd of people--men and women, boys and girls--and\nhis teacher told him to look at them well, for he, Jack, was in that\ncrowd--everybody was there. Then she drew a great pit, and out of it came\nflames; and she told him that all in that crowd were \"bad, bad,\" and that\nGod was very angry with these bad people, and said they must all go into\nthat dreadful pit.\n\nPoor Jack looked in her face with a frightened stare; he knew that he was\nin that crowd, that he was one of those bad people. \"Must I go there?\" his\nanxious look seemed to ask. Still she did not speak, but went on drawing,\nand as she drew one man, standing alone, she told Jack that He was the Son\nof God, come down from heaven--come to die instead of that crowd of bad\npeople, so that they might be saved from that dreadful pit. Then it was her\nturn to look anxiously into the boy's face. Had her poor Jack understood\nthe picture?\n\nYes, he had understood; and his next question showed that he was thinking\nearnestly of what she had told him.\n\nPointing to the crowd of people, he said they were \"_many_, very many\"; but\nthe Man who come to die instead of them was \"_One_, only One\"; and then\nagain he asked, \"What? what?\" in his eager way.\n\nHow should this question be answered? How should Jack be shown that while\nall in that crowd of people had sinned--all \"come short of the glory of\nGod\"--the Holy One who came to do God's will and to give Himself a ransom\nfor them, had glorified Him on the earth, and finished the work which His\nFather had given Him to do?\n\nHis teacher did not now draw a picture; but she made one in another way.\nThere were some dead flowers in the room; taking a pair of scissors, she\ncut them up into little bits, till they lay in a brown heap on the table.\nJack watched her do this, and then he saw her take from her finger her gold\nring, and lay it down beside the brown heap. Pointing to the dead flowers,\nshe said, \"Many\"; pointing to the ring, she said, \"One\"; and then asked,\n\"Which will you have?\"\n\nWith a laugh of delight, Jack made her see that he understood this picture\nalso. The brown heap of worthless, withered flowers was like that crowd of\npeople--\"many,\" but all bad; the ring, all of gold--only \"one\" thing, but\nso precious--was like Him who died to save them; and over and over again he\nspelt, \"One! One!\"\n\nThen presently, as the thought came to him that he, Jack, was in that\ncrowd; that he was one of the \"many\" for whom that holy One had given\nHimself, his heart was full; he burst into tears, and looking upwards he\nspelt again, \"Good One! good One!\" and ran for the box of letters that he\nmight learn His name.\n\nAnd so this boy learnt for the first time that Name which is above every\nname, the Name of Jesus.\n\nIt would take too long to tell you how Jack learnt each day something more\nabout the Lord Jesus Christ. You see he had to be taught the story of His\nwondrous birth; of His life in this world, so full of deeds of love and\npower, and words of grace and compassion; of His obedience unto death, even\nthe death of the cross; and how He was raised from the dead by the glory of\nthe Father, and ascended up to heaven. All this, which you have heard so\noften, was not the \"old, old story\" to him, but quite new; the \"good news\nof God concerning His Son\"; and he did indeed receive the truth in the love\nof it.\n\nHis teacher still found that the best way of teaching him was to give him\na picture of something which he could see; and her account of the way in\nwhich he learnt the great truth of resurrection, by her showing him how\nhyacinth-roots, which seemed dead and worthless, would put forth leaves\nin the spring-time, and \"blossom in purple and red,\" is very interesting.\nAfter he had learned this lesson, he could never stand beside a grave\nwithout asking reverently whether the one whose name was upon the headstone\n\"loved Jesus Christ.\"\n\nAbout this time there came a great change in Jack's life, for he left his\nhome and went to England. The friend who had been so kind to him was going\nback to her home, and could not bear to leave him behind, so she asked his\nparents to allow him to go with her. They did not refuse, for they were\nvery grateful to her for all that she had done for their poor boy; and his\nmother said, \"Take him; he is more your child than ours.\" So Jack went\nfirst to Dublin, where nothing he saw struck him with such wonder as the\nships in the river; and then he went on board ship and sailed over the sea,\nand up the river Avon to Clifton. In this beautiful place he lived for a\nyear. He became a good and faithful servant to his mistress, and especially\nloved to wait upon and play with \"Baby-boy,\" a little nephew of hers of\nwhom he was very fond.\n\nBut you must not think Jack was always good. He had a very angry temper,\nand would sometimes go into a passion, and cry in a very naughty way; or\nelse sulk so as to make not only himself but his kind and gentle lady\nmiserable; and sometimes he had to be punished for his bad ways. But\nwhenever he had shown this naughty temper, the time came when he was very,\nvery sorry. He would go and have what he called \"a long pray,\" and tell God\nall about it. I do not know whether it was at such a time that he spoke to\nhis mistress about the \"red hand;\" but before I tell you of this, which has\nalways seemed to me very beautiful, I must try to remember for you part of\nan address to Sunday scholars, which my children heard just at the time\nwhen I was reading to them the story of John Britt.\n\nThis address was given by an uncle of Ernest and Sharley, and they were\nboth there. He spoke about how the eye of God looks us through and through,\nsearching right down into our hearts, and seeing every bad thought there;\nand then he spoke of God's book, in which all about us is written down, and\nof God's hand, which writes all down in that book. He said that when he\nwas a child, and thought of God's book, it made him tremble all over to\nremember what must be written there about _him_; and then, speaking very\nearnestly to the little scholars, he said, \"Think of your name at the top\nof a page in that book, and then, one after another--none left out or\nforgotten--every naughty word you have spoken, every naughty thing your\nhands have ever done, all written on that page!\"\n\nWhen he had spoken for some time in this way, Ernest's uncle George said\nthat if any of the children to whom he was speaking really did think\nof this dreadful page, and did not try to hide away from God, but went\nstraight to Him about it, and said, \"O God, I am such a sinner!\" that cry\nwould be written down there too. And we must never forget that because of\nthe work Jesus \"finished\" when on earth, it is righteous for God to blot\nout the whole black list of every one who \"comes to the Father\" by Jesus.\n\nI do not know who had told Jack about God's book, but one day when he was\nalone with his lady, he began to speak to her very earnestly. He told her\nthat he knew that if he should die, like those people who had died of the\nfever, he would be put in the grave, but that he would not stay there for\never. He said that after he had lain there a good while, God would call\n\"Jack!\" and he would answer, \"Yes; me Jack.\" Then he would stand before\nGod, and in His hands would be a very large book, a \"Bible book.\" He said\nGod would turn the pages until he came to one where \"John Britt\" was\nwritten, and then He would look to see if there were any \"bads\" written\nthere; but God would find no bads, \"no no, nothing, none.\"\n\n\"No bads?\" said the lady. \"Have you never done anything wrong, Jack?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" he said quickly, \"much bads\"; and then he went on to show her\nhow the Lord Jesus Christ had taken the book and had found that very page\nwhere Jack's own name was, and where all his \"bads\" were written down; and\nHe had put His hand all down that page, so that when God looked at it, none\nof Jack's \"bads\" were there; only Jesus Christ's blood. \"Then,\" he said,\n\"God would shut the book, and Jesus Christ would say to God, '_My_ Jack!'\"\nPerhaps you wonder what those bad things were which this boy knew he had\ndone. I will tell you of one thing which he particularly remembered. Once,\nlong ago, when he was quite a little boy, he had stolen a halfpenny from\nhis mother; this was one of the wrong things which he thought of as written\ndown upon that page, and he knew that without the precious blood of the\nLord Jesus Christ, God's Son, even that one sin would have been always\nthere. And so he often told people about this, and would smile with\nhappiness, and say, \"Jack very much loves Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ loves\npoor Jack. Good Jesus--die--save poor bad Jack.\"\n\nThere are some things which are told us in the Bible which Jack did not\nknow. He thought that when the last day was come, all who were in their\ngraves would be raised, and all stand before God; he was not afraid when he\nthought of that great day, because he knew that \"perfect love\" which casts\nout fear, but it would have been very sweet to him to have known that the\nLord Jesus is coming for His own, and that at His call \"the dead in Christ\nshall rise first,\" and then all the living people who are \"Christ's at His\ncoming\" shall be changed, and all together be \"caught up to meet the Lord\nin the air, and so be for ever with the Lord.\"\n\nJack is one of those who have \"fallen asleep in Jesus\"; he died when he was\na little more than nineteen, and the shamrocks, which he loved because he\nwas an Irish boy, have long been growing green upon his lowly grave; but\nwhen the Lord calls His own to meet Him in the air, the deaf and dumb boy,\njust because he is _His_ Jack, will be sure to hear that awakening voice;\nalthough he never heard any voice on earth; and to answer to the call.\n\nBut I must tell you a little more about his short life. When he was\nfourteen, his mistress left Clifton and moved to a very pretty house in the\ncountry, and there Jack was given a little room over the coach-house to be\nquite his own, so that he might go there to write or draw, when his work\nwas done. And now, to his great delight, he was trusted to take charge of a\nhorse; he took such care of it, and kept it so clean and neat, that before\nlong another horse was given to his charge, and he had also to look after\nthe cow, so that he must have felt that he was quite an important person.\n\nYou will be interested about his drawings when I tell you that he worked\nso hard at them, because he had a wonderful plan in his head. You must\nnot think that he had forgotten his old home; though he was so happy in\nEngland, his great longing was to see his dear parents once more. He did\nnot wish to go back to Ireland, but he thought if he could only earn enough\nby his beautiful drawings to buy a little cottage and a cow, he would send\nfor them to come and live near him, and then his joy would be complete.\n\nHe used to pray a great deal about this, kneeling at the window, that \"God\nmight look through the stars into his heart,\" and see how very much he\nloved the Lord Jesus Christ; and he used to say that he knew God had\n\"looked at\" his prayer, just as you might say, \"God has _heard_ me praying\nto Him.\"\n\nFive years passed in that quiet home, and then the cough, which had\ntroubled him for some time, grew much worse, and he seemed to understand,\nwithout being told, that he was soon going to die.\n\nWhen he came down one morning, looking sadly pale and tired, his mistress\nasked, \"Have you slept, Jack?\"\n\n\"No,\" he said, smiling sweetly. \"Jack no sleep. Jack think good Jesus\nChrist see poor Jack. Night dark, heaven all light; soon see heaven. Cough\nmuch now, pain bad; soon no cough, no pain.\"\n\nYou can see that, when he spoke on his fingers, Jack's way was to make his\nsentences short by leaving out all the little words, much as children do\nwhen they first begin to talk.\n\nDuring the few months of life which remained after he became so ill, his\nsister Mary was with him, and his soldier-brother Pat got leave to come and\nwish him good-bye. For Jack was really going to Him whom having not seen\nhe loved, and at the last moment of his life his great comfort and joy\nwas in thinking of the love of Christ to him. He would say, over and over,\n\"Jesus Christ _loves_ poor Jack,\" and then speak of the \"red hand\" that had\nblotted out all his sins--those many sins which God would remember no more,\nbecause \"good Jesus Christ\" had given His own life for poor Jack.\n\nThe snow was falling fast when they laid the body of this dear boy in the\nquiet churchyard, far away from his Irish home. His beloved mistress and\nhis sister Mary were there. How wonderful it is to think that the first\nsound that will fall upon those ears, deaf all his life long to every human\ntone, will be \"the voice of the archangel and the trump of God,\" calling\nhim, and all those who sleep in Jesus, to rise in their bodies of glory,\n\"to meet the Lord in the air,\" and to be with Him for ever!\n\n  \"Then, when the archangel's voice\n  Calls the sleeping saints to rise,\n  Rising myriads shall proclaim\n  Blessings on the Saviour's name.\n\n  \"'This is our redeeming God!'\n  Ransomed hosts shall shout aloud\n  Praise, eternal praise, be given,\n  To the Lord of earth and heaven.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE STONE BOOK.\n\n\n\"_The heaven, even the heavens, are the Lord's: but the earth hath He given\nto the children of men._\"--PSALM cxv. 16.\n\n\"_Speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee: and the fishes of the sea\nshall declare unto thee._\"--JOB xii. 8.\n\n\"_Be still, and know that I am God._\"--PSALM xlvi. 10.\n\n\nWe have been reading a little about the story of the heavens. Now I want to\ntake you from the starry heights to the dens and caves of the earth, and to\nspeak to you a little about--not astronomy, but geology, as the science or\nstudy of the earth is called. This is a very interesting study, but one in\nwhich we may easily make serious mistakes; for we have not here the firm\nground under our feet which the Word of God gives us, and we must always\nbeware of saying, \"This thing _is_ so, therefore that other thing _must_ be\nso\"; or, \"This thing is not, therefore that other cannot be.\"\n\nWhen we first began our talks, we read that \"In the beginning God created\nthe heaven and the earth\"--all that which is meant when we speak of the\n\"Universe.\" This is just what we need to know; and how gracious of God the\nCreator to speak to us about His own works, and set at rest all the guesses\nand reasonings of our minds as to how and when this earth first came into\nexistence!\n\nThen we noticed that there is a pause, how long a pause we know not. The\nsilence of God, as it were, falls upon the scene; we hear nothing more\nabout the heavens, and nothing of the earth between the time of its\ncreation and its state as described in the next verse--a desolate, watery\nwaste, upon which darkness brooded.\n\nIt is a great thing to know how to listen when God speaks to us, and to\nbe silent when He is silent. \"By faith we understand that the worlds were\nframed by the word of God\"; this is what He has been pleased to tell us,\nand we cannot go beyond it.\n\nIn the chapter called \"Ruin and Darkness,\" we learnt a little about the\n\"crust\" of the earth; and I told you that those who have studied it believe\nthat they can read in it, as in a book, marks of the many changes which\nhave passed over it since the Creation.\n\nAs they search into its depths and bring out to the light of day remains of\nplants and animals which lie buried there, they point to these \"footprints\non the sands of time,\" and tell us that our earth is very, very old; _how_\nold they do not say; they can only guess.\n\nBut long before anyone began to lay bare the recesses of the earth and to\nponder its age, God had told us that it is older than our little minds can\nconceive, for He created it \"in the beginning.\"\n\nMen of science also when they speak of the work of God on the SIX DAYS\nof His Creation, say they could not have been actual days of twenty-four\nhours, as time is now measured. I have told you that in speaking of what\nGod does we must never say a thing _could_ not be; but rather lay our hand\nupon our mouth, or speak as Job did when he answered the Lord and said, \"I\nknow that Thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withholden\nfrom Thee.\" But we may also remember that, as God measures time, \"One day\nis with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day\";\n\"for a thousand years in Thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past,\nand as a watch in the night,\"\n\nI wonder--as we have read now four times, at the close of each of God's\nwonderful days, \"The evening and the morning were the first,\" \"the second,\"\n\"the third,\" \"the fourth day\"--whether you have stopped to think why the\nevening is always put before the morning; surely this way of reckoning time\nis very unlike ours.\n\nIs it not so reckoned because as light was made to shine perfectly upon the\nearth, when God called it out of the darkness, there was no dawning of that\nfirst day? It began when God said, \"Let light be: and light was\"; then,\nwith the gradual disappearing of the light, \"there was evening,\" nothing\nbeing told us about the \"unfurled flag\" of night, or the dawning of the\nsecond day.\n\nThis at least we know, that whether in the beginning, when the strong\nfoundations of the earth were laid, or during those periods of time when\nGod was working to bring it into order and beauty, \"no touch of man's rude\nhand\" interfered. The goodness of God was seen in storing it with mineral\ntreasures for his use; covering it with vegetation which has lived and died\nand laid up vast abundance of coal; peopling the air and the waters with\nbirds and fishes. But with all this man had nothing to do, for one of the\nvery last acts of Creative Power was that which called him into existence,\nand set him, as lord of all, in a place so carefully and wonderfully\nprepared for him.\n\nAnd as we look back over those Days of Creation of which we have been\nreading, let us remember that each successive Day led up in perfect order\nto making his dwelling-place perfectly fitted for him, the creature of\nGod apart from all others, specially formed for Himself. As has been\nbeautifully said, \"when the sea was gathered into one place and the dry\nland appeared, a secure footing was found for man; when the waters above\nthe firmament were separated from the waters below, man, the highest of all\ncreated things, could look up\"--all was done in reference to him, when as\nyet he was not.\n\nWe shall not read about the work of God on the Fifth Day in this chapter,\nbut I want you to turn to the account of it given in the first chapter\nof Genesis, and you will see that there for the first time in the Story\nof Creation the word \"life\" is used. God speaks to us no longer of only\ninanimate or lifeless things, such as the sea and the dry land, the earth\nwith its herbs and trees, and the two great lights which were made to give\nlight upon it. He tells us now of creatures which live and move and have\na being, each \"after its kind\"; each exactly fitted to enjoy life in the\nplace prepared for it.\n\nThe story of the way in which God in His mighty and gracious working\nprepared earth and sea and sky to be the home of creatures which were yet\nto be brought forth and created, is very wonderful. But when we read of\n\"the moving creature that hath life,\" and of \"every living creature that\nmoveth,\" we come to what is still more wonderful.\n\nYou remember in the history of the plagues in Egypt, that when the wise men\ntried to imitate what God was doing in sending His judgments upon the land,\nthere was a point at which they stopped, and could go no farther, \"This is\nthe finger of God,\" they said.\n\nWhat was that point? It was when they tried, by their enchantments, to\nproduce one of the meanest, as we should say, of _living_ things.\n\nAnd so it has always been: man, the highest of God's creatures, apart from\nall the rest, is still a creature, and he never has been able to usurp the\npower which belongs to God alone.\n\nIt is true that man can destroy animals, and so hunt them down as to render\nthem extinct; he can also, as we have seen, by great care and skill and\nlong patience, produce what are called \"varieties\" of both plants and\nanimals, increasing the size of leaves and blossoms twenty, thirty, even a\nhundredfold; but though he may talk of the formation of new flowers, with\nendless shades of colour, they are not really new, but only varieties of\nthose already existing. You remember, when we were speaking of the \"Green\nEarth,\" we learnt that never, from the beginning of his life on earth, has\nman produced a new _kind_, or species, of either plant or animal.\n\nWe must never forget this. God, who said to the mighty ocean, \"Hitherto\nshalt thou come, and no farther: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed\"\n(Job xxxviii. II), has also set a bound beyond which man, however great his\npowers may be, is not permitted to go. Life, in all its forms, from the\nlowest to the highest, belongs to God.\n\nBut perhaps you are asking why I said that we do not in the Story of\nCreation read anything about _life_ till we come to the work of God on the\nFifth Day. Are not the trees and plants alive? Do we not say of a blasted\ntree or withered flower, It is dead?\n\nIt is quite true that plants have a life which shows itself as we have seen\nin their growth, and even in some \"sensitive\" plants, by their shrinking\nfrom the touch. In the wheat-fields the order of the unfolding of the life\nof a plant \"whose seed is in itself,\" may be seen, as we watch \"first the\nblade, then the ear, afterwards the full corn in the ear.\" But this life is\nvery different from that of the lowliest animal which has power to feel and\nto give expression to its feelings, power to move from place to place, and\nwhich shows in its own way of living an intelligence which is not seen in\nthe very highest forms of vegetable life. At the same time it is true that\nin their lowest forms animal and vegetable life approach each other so\nnearly that it is often difficult to say where the one ends and the other\nbegins.\n\nBut without the plants and their ceaseless work, as the \"sleepless\nuniversal providers of the earth,\" as they have been called, all animal\nlife would fail and die; for they are the means by which all the\nnourishment which is contained in earth, air, and water can be made of use\nboth to themselves and to the animals.\n\nAnd is it not very beautiful to see how God has made one part of His\ncreation dependent upon another, and all dependent upon Him? Does it not\nshow us His care for His creatures, and especially for that wonderful\ncreature--the last and best of all, who was created for the earth and the\nearth for him--when we see, as we have seen so constantly, that before the\ninhabitants of earth, air, and sea came into being, He had caused the earth\nto bring forth that which should give to every living thing the means of\nsustaining life?\n\nI have called this chapter, which does not speak of the work of God on any\nspecial Day of Creation, THE STONE BOOK. A wonderful book it is for those\nwho can read it; its leaves are the successive layers of the earth's crust;\nits letters are not only the remains of plants, but the fossil-shells and\nbones of animals imprisoned there, which tell us that creatures, all in\nsome way unlike any we now know, once lived and died, and are still to be\nfound, not in their ancient forms in rushy mere of tangled jungle, but in\n\"graves of stone and monuments of marble.\"\n\nWhen we were speaking of the coal-mines I told you something about\nthe remains of giant ferns, sedges, reeds, and mare's-tails of far\nlarger growth than any now known, which have been found there. You are\nfamiliar with fossil-plants, but I do not think we have spoken much\nof fossil-animals, which are found in all except the oldest layers of\nrock--the first pages of the \"Stone Book.\"\n\nThe children had been with me to the Museum in the town in which we lived,\nand had looked with wonder at the huge creatures whose skeletons have\nbeen built up bone by bone, after being taken from their rocky tomb--for\nthis earth of ours which has seen so many changes has been rifled of her\ntreasures; not the gold and silver, coal and iron with which she is so\nrichly stored, but the wonderful specimens of God's work in bygone ages\nwhich He has allowed us to see; so that we cannot doubt that such creatures\nonce existed, though we may know nothing with certainty as to the time of\ntheir first appearance in the sea and on the dry land, and can only guess\nat the kind of life they lived.\n\nYou remember that we spoke, in the chapter about the earth's crust, of the\n\"fire-made rocks,\" which were once in a liquid state from intense heat\n(we could not expect to find any remains of plants or animals there, and\nnone _have_ been found), and of the \"water-made rocks,\" which have been\ngradually accumulated by the action of water in wearing down the land.\nThese rocks lie in layers, and fossil shells, plants, and bones of animals\nhave been found in them, as we have already seen.\n\nBut how did these fossils get into the rocks? And how is it that they have\nbeen found in all countries and at all heights above the sea?\n\nBefore I try to answer these questions, I must tell you that when\ngeologists speak of \"rock\" they mean everything which has gone to form the\ncrust of the earth, whether clay, or loose sand and gravel, or the hard\nheavy granite which some of us had seen crowning the Dartmoor tors.\n\nIt is thought that the huge creatures whose bones have been found at\ndifferent depths in the earth's _strata_ were buried there when the \"rock\"\nwhich formed the layers was soft; perhaps in the mud of lakes, or in peat\nor sand at the mouths of rivers. Then, as time went on, their softer parts\nperished, but the harder turned to stone, thus forming the \"letters\" in the\nstony pages from which those who study the earth try to read something of\nits history. Then, as sea-shells are found inland, deeply buried in the\nhills, it is thought that the land in which they were buried has been\nraised by earthquakes, or thrown out by volcanoes: or was altered in\nposition at the time when the earth's foundations were overflowed with\na Flood, and \"the waters stood above the mountains.\" As geologists read\nthe Stone Book, like the writing of Eastern lands, _backwards_--as they\nsearch deeper and deeper into the crust of the earth, they speak of its\nOld life, Middle life, and New life: but we must remember that they _do_\nread backwards, calling the older life what is really the younger. And\nwe must also bear in mind that many of the words used in what is called\nscience--especially those relating to the study of the earth--betray our\nignorance rather than prove our knowledge. The marking off stages in the\nlife-history of the earth, and speaking of its Old, Middle, and New Age has\nbeen done to help in the study of its crust. Nothing is known, however,\nwith certainty about these different periods or where one ends and another\nbegins, and no one knows whether the first, or oldest, layer has yet been\ndiscovered. One geologist says, \"I have found it,\" and presently another\npenetrates a little deeper, goes a little farther back, and finds one lower\nstill. Nor can anyone say certainly where a fossil-fern or the mummy of\nan old-world fish appeared for the first time, and though many plants and\nanimals which are found in a fossil state have long been extinct, yet\nthere are many more which appear at a very ancient date and have continued\nunchanged to the present time.\n\nThere is a famous cliff in Dorsetshire upon which may be read, almost as\nupon a map, the record of the changes which have passed over it during its\nlife-history.\n\nOn examining the strata, or layers which lie one above the other,\ngeologists find the first, or lowest of all, to be Portland stone, which\nwas formed by the accumulation of lime at the bottom of the sea.\n\nThe second layer shows that this sea-bed in time became dry land, and was\ncovered with soil--what had once been the seashore gradually giving place\nto a forest.\n\nBut how do we know that such a wonderful change was wrought in process of\ntime?\n\nWe have clear proof that it was so from the vegetable soil still remaining,\nand the numbers of trees the remains of which are embedded in the rock,\nmany of them standing upright as when growing.\n\nThe third layer seems to show, from the limestone and the fresh-water\nshells embedded in it, that the level land where the forest grew sank lower\nand lower until it formed a hollow which in time became a lake.\n\nThe fourth layer, which \"ends this strange, eventful history,\" gives\nevidence of the whole land having been again covered by the ocean, and\nagain raised above the waters!\n\nIf we were studying geology together, I should like to take you with me to\nthe Museum, and we would first look at the fossils which are believed to\nbelong to the most ancient time of life upon the earth; then we would pass\non to those belonging to the second or \"middle\" stage, and then to the\nthird, or \"new\" stage, letting these wonderful stones, taken from mountain\nheight or deep sea bottom, or from the depths of the earth itself, tell\ntheir own eloquent story.\n\nBut what I should like you to remember is that geologists of our own time\ntell us that the lowest layer of the earth's crust which has yet been\nexplored appears to be made of vegetable remains, so crushed and altered by\ntime and by the tremendous pressure of rocky layers lying above it,\nthat though it is probably of the same material as that which forms the\ncoal-measures, it resembles the blacklead of which pencils are made much\nmore than the coal which you know is what has been formed by the decay of\nburied forests and jungles.\n\nIn this layer of \"graphite,\" geologists with the help of their microscopes\nhave searched in vain for any trace of what once was living, but they think\nit may have been formed from the \"flowerless\" plants, or even from those\nstill more lowly, too minute when living to be seen by the naked eye, and\nconsisting of one tiny bag or \"cell.\"\n\nThey tell us that these \"infant\" plants were followed by those of larger\ngrowth, specimens of which are found in layers of rock and clay nearer the\nsurface, and are followed by remains of the \"herb yielding seed, and the\nfruit tree yielding fruit after its kind\"--for mummies of seed vessels and\nfruits have been found in coal-fields in many parts of the world.\n\nIt is interesting, too, to see that as far as we can tell at present, in\nthe case of fossil-fish and other living creatures, the lowest forms are\nfound _first_ (that is, _farthest back_), and are followed by remains of\ncreatures higher in the scale of life; that is to say, not so simple in\nstructure. In using the words \"higher\" or \"lower,\" we do not mean that\nthere is anything imperfect about the humbler creatures; they are exactly\nsuited to the life which has been given to them to live, but their form is\nvery simple compared with that of \"higher\" animals, just as a three-legged\nstool is much more simple in its construction, and is made of fewer parts,\nthan a watch. I may tell you a little about these lowly creatures when we\nspeak of the FIFTH DAY of Creation, and then you will see that they were\nall made according to a \"perfect goodly pattern\" or plan, and each \"after\nits kind\"; for if we read the pages of the Stone Book aright, we shall see\nplainly written there that from the first beginnings of life, as far as it\nis given us to trace them, the goodness and wisdom and power of God are\nshown in the way in which the smallest creature of His hand is suited to\nthe place appointed to it to fill, by Him who is \"good to all,\" and whose\n\"tender mercies are over all His works.\"\n\nBut there is a great difference between what we may thus glean from the\nstudy of the earth, and what is revealed to us by the clear teaching of the\nWord of God, as He tells us what He did in His wonderful work of Creation,\nand how He \"saw everything that He had made, and behold it was very good.\"\n\nWhen God speaks, all is clear and simple and true; and is to be understood\nby believing His word: when we come to the thoughts of men about what\nhappened in the far past, especially when they try to settle not only the\n_when_ but the _how_ of His mighty working, much is dark uncertainty.\n\nShould we then _not_ study the letters of the Stone Book? I did not say so;\n\"God has made everything beautiful in its time,\" and His handiwork in the\npast as well as the present is indeed worthy of our attention. But in\nreading books about geology, more perhaps than in any other study, you need\nto ask God to teach you to hold fast by His Word.\n\nThen, if you read that many geologists now believe that there has been no\nspecial creation of fish or bird or beast of the earth, but that \"all the\nmany forms of plant and animal life have been unfolded out of a few simple\nforms, just as the stem, the leaf, and the flower are evolved out of a\nsimple seed\"--you will say at once, \"That cannot be; for God has plainly\ntold us of both plants and animals that they were made each 'after its\nkind,' and therefore there can never have been such a thing as a fish\ndeveloping into a bird, or a bird into a lizard: nor, so far as I have\nseen, is any such creature to be found in a fossil state.\"\n\nI heard some time ago that a young man who was studying to become a doctor,\nsaid to his father, \"When I go to some of my lectures on biology\" (that is\nthe study of life), \"the only thing that I can do when I hear things said\nthat are quite contrary to the Bible, is to keep saying to myself, 'It's\nnot _true_, it's not _true_.'\"\n\nI think this young man was right: he had settled it in his heart that\nwhatever he might hear, he must think as God thinks. He was like one who\nwhen just starting in life, wrote these words on the flyleaf of his little\nBible--\"Man has faith in his compass, yet he cannot understand it. He takes\nit as his guide across the trackless ocean. He relies implicitly upon it,\nand well he may trust it. This Book is my compass. I have faith in it,\nthanks to God: it explains itself; I take it for my guide across the ocean\nof life--I rely upon it. Man may jeer at my faith, but my compass is vastly\nmore reliable than his--still better may I trust mine.\"\n\n\n  \"HIDDEN TREASURES.\n\n  \"The gems of earth are still within\n    Her silent unwrought mines;\n  There hide they, all unknown, unseen,\n    No sparkle upward shines.\n\n  \"The stars of heaven, how few and wan\n    Are all we see below\n  Compared with what remain unseen\n    Beyond all vision now!\n\n  \"Who knows the untold brilliance there,\n    The wealth, the beauty hid?\n  Like sparkle of a lustrous eye\n    Beneath its veiling lid.\n\n  \"So with the heaven of better stars\n    Of which these are but signs:\n  So with the stores of wisdom hid\n    In everlasting mines.\"\n\nH. BONAR.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIFTH DAY.\n\n\"THE MOVING CREATURE THAT HATH LIFE.\"\n\n\n\"_This is the finger of God._\"--EXODUS viii. 19.\n\n\"_The Lord ... in whose hand is the soul of every living thing._\"--JOB xii.\n10.\n\n\"_O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast Thou made them all:\nthe earth is full of Thy riches. So is this great and wide sea, wherein are\nthings creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts._\"--PSALM civ. 24,\n25.\n\n\nWe now come to the time when the empty water, air, and land were filled.\nThe work of God on the FIFTH DAY is spoken of in verses 20 and 21 of our\nchapter. In reading them we noticed that in respect of the \"great whales,\"\nor sea monsters, the word \"created\" is again used, as it was in the first\nverse; and then, as we read the twenty-third verse, we had a little talk\nabout the words now used for the first time in the story of Creation, \"and\nGod blessed them.\"\n\nHow beautiful it is to see that as soon as God had caused the waters to\n\"swarm with swarms of living souls\" (look at the margin of your Bible as\nyou read the twentieth verse)--as soon as we read of creatures to whom God\ngave a life different from that of a tree or a flower, a life that could\nenjoy itself in the home prepared for it--all these living things were\nblessed, that is, made happy, by Him who called them into being!\n\nGod's world was a happy world for the humblest creature of His hand; and if\nit is now a sad world, where the groan of many a suffering animal goes up\nto Him who hears the ravens when they cry--whose fault is it?\n\nDid you ever think how kind we ought to be to the creatures which, innocent\nthemselves, have shared the sorrow brought into the world by man's\ndisobedience? I heard someone say the other day, \"It is terrible to see\nanimals suffer: to see cattle overdriven, and sheep dying for want of\nwater, and defenceless creatures cruelly used. But when I see any of these\nthings, I have to feel--_I_ am to blame for that.\"\n\nWhen I asked my scholars, \"What is the meaning of _abundantly_?\" Sharley\nsaid, \"It means enough and over.\"\n\nDo you like her answer?\n\nAs the sea everywhere, even down in those depths where the sun's light\ncannot pierce through the masses of water, is peopled by millions of\ncreatures--every drop of water, as we might say, _alive_ with life--I\nthought it a good one. A great poet has spoken of the \"multitudinous seas,\"\nbut whether this was in allusion to their wealth of life, or to their\nmyriad waves, I do not know. Certainly in his time very little was known\nabout the dwellers in the deep, deep sea, compared with what we may learn\nin the present day, when the sounding-line has reached the bottom of\nthe Atlantic, and actually brought up some of the clay that forms its\nfloor--clay which is made up of the skeletons of myriads of creatures. It\nwas once thought that no life could exist in the ocean-depths, but we now\nknow that life is everywhere--in air and water, upon the earth and within\nit, in the lowest depths of the sea, and on the highest mountain peaks, in\nhot and cold climates, and in the bodies of animals: all around us--earth,\nair, and water--teems with life.\n\nNow let us read once more the simple words which tell us all we can really\nknow about what is so wonderful: \"And God said, Let the waters bring\nforth abundantly the moving creature that hath life\" (or, as it may be\ntranslated, \"Let the waters swarm with swarms of living souls\").\n\nWe will not read farther to-day, as I want to tell you in this chapter\nsomething about life in what are called its lower forms, and we shall\nfind that wherever we may look, every creature is perfect in itself, and\nperfectly suited to the life appointed to it by its Creator, and the home\nwhere He has placed it.\n\nMy children had learnt something about the two great divisions of animals,\nthose which belong to the great Backboned Family and those which have no\nbackbone. It is of the latter that we shall speak today. You know that a\nfish has a backbone, and that it is beautifully formed, for you have often\nseen it; but perhaps you have not noticed that a lobster, though called one\nof the shell-fish, is quite unlike the true Fishes: its skeleton is not\ninside, but outside; there are no bones within, but all the soft parts are\ninside, and the hard parts outside; while the body of a fish is formed on\njust the opposite plan. The fish is called a _Vertebrate_ animal, because\nit has a backbone, made up of numbers of separate bones called vertebras.\nSome of us know that this word comes from the Latin, and means _that which\nturns_, because these many small bones are so beautifully jointed together\nas to be all perfectly moveable, so that the long bone which they form is\nvery flexible. Some snakes have more than three hundred of these vertebr\u00e6,\nand you know how they can coil and twist their glittering length.\n\nThe marks of a Vertebrate animal are very easy to remember.\n\nIt must have this wonderfully jointed backbone, and also what is called the\nskeleton, which is a framework of bone.\n\nA spinal cord (from which this division of animals is sometimes called the\n\"Chordate\").\n\nFour limbs, and red blood.\n\nIn these respects all the animals which belong to this division are alike,\nthough in general appearance they may be as unlike each other as a horse is\nunlike a bird, or a crocodile unlike a herring.\n\nFew things in nature are more wonderful than the way in which this\nVertebrate plan has been fitted to animals differing from each other in all\nother respects.\n\nNow let us look at the marks of an Invertebrate or Inchordate animal.\n\nIt has _no backbone_, and instead of a bony framework _within_, to support\nthe soft parts of its body, it generally has a hard shell, or thickened\nskin _outside_, to protect the softer inner parts.\n\nIt has _no red blood_.\n\nNow, just as plants have been arranged in different classes, so animals are\nclassified according to the various plans upon which they have been\nformed. So, besides the two great divisions of the Vertebrates and the\nInvertebrates, the latter have been classed as--\n\n(a) _Radiata_, or Rayed Animals--those whose parts all radiate from a\ncommon centre--such as the starfish, red-coral, sea-anemone.\n\n(b) _Mollusca_, or Soft-bodied Animals, protected by shells--such as\nsnails, oysters, limpets. (The members of this family are numerous indeed).\n\n(c) _Annulosa_, or Ringed Animals--those whose bodies are composed of many\nparts, jointed together--such as crabs, spiders, bees, ants, centipedes,\nshrimps, and many more; for this great family has relations among all the\ninsect tribes.\n\nIt is very beautiful to see that God has formed His creatures on such\ndifferent plans, and though we shall be able to say very little about them,\nI hope you will by-and-by study Natural History, and learn more and more\nof His care in fitting each for the life it has to live. But remember that\nall these types of animals, the Radiates, Molluscs, Articulates (as the\nmembers of the \"ringed\" family are sometimes sailed), existed in the most\nancient times: they lived side by side, as it were, and were not, as some\nphilosophers would have us believe, derived from each other. Each was\n\"after its kind,\" and each species remains; animals may alter from changes\nin their way of life, but there is no passing from one _kind_ to another.\n\nNow I think you will be interested to hear that in the Stone Book, some\nof the most ancient \"letters\" are formed from creatures belonging to the\nInvertebrate Group. We were speaking just now of the white clay brought up\nfrom the depths of the Atlantic Ocean by the sounding line. The microscope\nshows that it consists of the imperishable part of creatures, tinier than\nany you can imagine, which had the power when living of extracting from the\nsea-water--as I told you is the way of the corals--the lime which formed\ntheir outer coat, or skeleton. These busy workers lived their little day,\nand then as they died, the shell-like coverings sank to the bottom of the\nsea, forming, as ages passed, thick beds of chalk, such as that of which\nthe white cliffs of Dover are built up.\n\nThen, as the sounding-line searches still deeper ocean-depths, it brings up\na red clay, and this again is shown by the microscope to be composed partly\nof very minute creatures of a reddish colour, which live near the surface\nof the ocean, but when they die sink to the bottom.\n\nSponges, too, which form the home of great numbers of little radiates, grow\nupon the ocean floor or near the bottom of the sea; their tiny tenants,\nlike minute cells, living upon still smaller creatures contained in the\nwater which is held by the sponge.\n\nAnd we are told that in some places the bottom of the sea is strewn with\nstar-fishes and their relations, some of them very beautiful in form and\ncolour, but all formed on the same plan of a central plate, from which five\narms or fingers radiate.\n\nDo we not better understand that the waters did indeed \"swarm with swarms\"\nwhen we learn even a little about these living creatures, many of them\nso small that we should not be aware of their existence if we had no\nmicroscope to reveal to us their countless myriads?\n\nThe Mollusca form a very large group of Invertebrate animals; they live\non land as well as in the water, but the aquatic species are much more\nnumerous than the terrestrial, and the deep-sea dredgings are constantly\nbringing to light new forms. Some of the shells which protect their soft\nbodies, and are formed by the animals themselves, are marvels of beauty,\nand many of them are secured from injury by a waterproof coating. A number\nof extinct animals, such as Ammonites and Belemnites, belong to this\ngroup--their shells may be seen in any good museum; those of the\nBelemnites, as their name implies, are shaped like a dart; those of the\nAmmonites, like that of the beautiful Nautilus of our times; but the\nfisherfolk of Whitby, where they are found in numbers, say they are \"snakes\nturned to stone.\"\n\nBut as we have been speaking so much of sea-creatures, I think we will\nnow leave the oysters, cockles, mussels, and razor-fish, and choose the\nfamiliar garden-snail as our specimen of the Mollusca, or Soft-bodied\nFamily. I fancy you need no introduction to that snug little householder.\nOften, however, as you have touched his soft horns, you possibly do not\nknow that the very house in which you first made his acquaintance has been\nhis habitation ever since; for young snails come from the egg with the\nshell upon their backs, and they never quit that first house for a larger\none, for as they grow, their shell-house grows too. Look at this empty\nsnail shell, and say whether God has not given a beautiful coat of mail to\nprotect a creature without a bone in its body, and so sensitive that\n\n  \"Give but his horns the slightest touch,\n  His self-collecting power is such,\n  He shrinks into his house, with much\n  Displeasure.\"\n\nBut _how_ does the house grow large so as to suit the growing tenant? Most\nshells are made from a part of the animal called the mantle, and increase\nround the rim; if the snail's house is broken, its slime will harden over\nthe injured part and repair it. Then, when the cold weather comes, and the\nsnail prepares to bury itself underground for several months, and take\nits winter nap, it makes a strong cement of earth and slime, with which\nit builds up the open part of its shell--but, wonderful to think of, the\nclever little mason leaves, as it were, one brick out of the wall, and thus\nthere is a tiny opening, too small to let in the water, but large enough to\nadmit air sufficient to keep him alive during his long sleep.\n\nNow that our snail has been good enough to put out those four horns of his,\nlet us ask what purpose they serve, and why they are placed' where they\nare. The answer is very simple; these \"feelers\" are to the snail instead of\narms and legs; and the upper pair have eyes at the end, so that the wary\nlittle traveller, as it drags itself along a broad cabbage leaf, leaving a\nslimy track behind it, can tell, both by sight and touch, what obstacles\nmay lie in its path. I don't know whether you have ever seen the eggs of\nsnails; I have not, but I have heard that they are about the size of peas,\nand are buried in the earth, as the crocodile's eggs are buried in the\nsand.\n\nOf the many families of Ringed or Jointed Animals, we will choose the Crabs\nand Lobsters first. They are encased in armour of shell, and this has given\nto them and their relations the name of Crustaceans, or Crusty creatures,\nbecause what bones they have are outside, not hidden beneath the flesh. But\nunlike the snail's house, which grows with the growth of its inmate, and\nunlike _our_ skeleton which grows as _we_ grow, this close-fitting armour\ndoes not increase in size, nor is it elastic enough to expand, but every\nyear one coat of mail is cast off, in a way not unlike the sloughing of the\nserpent, to make room for a fresh soft suit. This new suit soon hardens,\nand the creatures embrace the opportunity to make a little progress in\ngrowing, which they do by fits and starts, not continuously; for the shell,\nwhen once hardened, gives them no room to increase in size--they have to\nwait till next year! The long pointed claws of the crab and lobster are\neasily broken, and sometimes lost altogether, so that the power which they\nhave of growing new ones is a wonderful provision for their life among the\nrough rocks and tangled sea-weeds.\n\nOne of the crusty creatures you know well enough, and you can find it\nwithout going to the seaside, I mean the wood-louse, which I used to hear\ncalled a \"carpenter\" when I was a child. In damp places, you can hardly\nturn over a mossy stone, or pick off a bit of bark from a fallen tree,\nwithout disturbing a whole colony of these slate-coloured creatures, with\ntheir mailed coats, made of ten rings, or plates of armour. They seem\nto know the use of their armour well enough, for if disturbed you will\nsee them either scurry off as fast as their many little feet can carry\nthem--and they are able to run forward or backward at pleasure--or else\nroll themselves up into tight balls, so that feet and head and feelers are\nall safe, under the ringed shield which God has given them as a defence and\nprotection.\n\nMany such creatures, rolled up just as the wood-louse curls itself, in\ntight balls, have been found in a fossil state; and there is a little\npetrified crustacean with wonderful eyes, which has been found in the slate\nquarries of South Wales. It is called the Trilobite, because it is composed\nof three lobes or divisions, and is an animal of the same kind as the\nlobster. Be sure you look for it, if you are fossil-hunting in the Museum,\nfor it is a most interesting specimen, and has been found in rocks deep\ndown in the earth's crust.\n\nNow, next to this Crab and Lobster family, come that of the Spiders, and\nthen that of the Insects.\n\nPerhaps you will say, \"But what are spiders, if they are not insects?\"\nI know I used to think they were, until I found that no creature can be\nreckoned one of that large family unless it has _six legs_--not even one\nmore or one less. Now, a spider has eight legs, and it has no wings, while\nall true insects have either wings, or what seems to be the beginning of\nwings: also although some spiders have as many as eight eyes, they are all\n\"simple,\" while the eyes of insects are \"compound\"; that is, great numbers\nare massed together at each side of the head, like the \"facets,\" or little\nfaces, of a precious stone. As insects have fixed eyes, which cannot move,\nthey would be very badly off without these many points of view.\n\nI wonder whether you ever had a good look at a spider, or whether you\nlearnt when you were almost a baby to think it a \"horrid creature\"; so that\nnow, when you might be watching it at its work, your first notion is to get\nout of its way as fast as possible.\n\nSome creatures are really harmful, and it is right to keep out of their\nway, but it is never right to despise a single thing which God has made,\nand when we think that the spider is one of His creatures, one which He\ncalls \"exceeding wise,\" it does indeed seem a pity not to learn something\nabout it; and the best way to learn about spiders, as well as all the rest\nof the animals, is not only to read about them--though that is a very great\nhelp to begin with--but to observe and study their habits for ourselves.\n\nErnest is fond of repeating a poem about King Robert the Bruce; how, as he\nnoticed a spider six times fail to climb up its slender thread, but succeed\nat the seventh attempt, he took courage to make one more effort for his\nlost kingdom, and succeeded.\n\nThis was long, long ago; but Kings and Commons have yet their tugs of war;\nand for old and young it is still all honour to those who\n\n  \"Try, try, try till they win,\n  Brave with the thought that despair is a sin--\n  Who fights on God's side is sure to win.\"\n\nThere are a great many spiders, of which we cannot now learn much more than\nthe names which have been given them; but the true story of their lives,\nand the wonderful way in which they overcome all sorts of difficulties, if\nrightly read, would make us feel that many a lesson of patient toil may be\nlearnt from such busy little weavers, and engineers, and divers.\n\nHere are a few of them: The Hunters--they live in crevices of walls and\nhouses, and have their name because they wander about constantly, ready\nto steal upon any insect which may come in their way; the Vagrants, who,\nthough they will run to catch their prey when it is in sight, lie in wait\nfor it, rolled up in a leaf, or hiding at the bottom of a flower, just\nwhere the flies are sure to come for honey; the Water-spiders--they manage\nto live under water in a nest so nearly made of air, though in the midst\nof the water, that this spider has been looked upon as the inventor of the\ndiving-bell. Then there is the industrious Mason, which bores a hole in the\nearth, makes the walls of its little tunnel as smooth as if it worked with\ntrowel and mortar, and then hangs them with delicate silken curtains of its\nown spinning and weaving; the Trap-door spider, so called because the mouth\nof its burrowed nest is fitted with a cleverly hinged door, which the owner\nof the nest can shut with its claw when it leaves home; the Pirate, which\nmakes a leafy raft, and skims along the water after the insects which suit\nits taste; the Gossamer spider, which rises so high in the air, and floats\nat its ease in its own balloon--and Epeira, the Garden spider, whose\nbeautiful web, covered with dewy diamonds, we have all seen, laid like some\nfairy lacework, over the hedges, on an autumn morning, as if the little\nweaver had been early at its work, as \"wise\" people usually are; and, as\nGod has deigned to tell us, He Himself has been.\n\n[Illustration: THE GARDEN SPIDER.]\n\nAs we can only find time to study one spider, this shall be the one, for we\nhave not to go far to look for it.\n\nFirst let us consider why it makes its beautiful web, so slender and so\neasily destroyed that it is used as an emblem of the \"hypocrite's hope\"\nwhich \"shall not endure\"; and yet so strong when we think of the little\ncreature whose cunning \"hands\" have woven it. The spider lives upon flies\nand other insects, but is itself without wings, so that it would be\nimpossible for it to catch its prey if it had not been given power which\nthe animals on which it feeds do not possess--the power to lay snares; this\nis why it takes such trouble with its beautiful web, and makes the cords\nfrom which it is woven so fine, and yet so strong. The web is the snare in\nwhich the insects on which it lives are caught, and from which they have no\npower to escape, for as soon as the insect is entangled, the spider, in his\nhiding-place, knows by the shaking of the threads that his prey is secure,\npounces upon it, benumbs it by one prick of his poison-fang, binds it fast\nwith silken threads, and carries it off to his \"dismal den,\" as the verse\nabout \"the spider and the fly\" calls the place where he lies in wait for\nany winged thing which may \"come buzzing by.\"\n\nBut this subtle and beautiful snare--how is it made? Where do the threads\nwhich form the silken meshes come from? Ah! you have seen the cocoons\nwhich silkworms spin, have you not? The weaver-spiders get their threads\njust as the silkworms do, from their own bodies; each thread comes from an\nexceedingly small hole; there are four of these holes in the spider's body,\nand the threads are made of a sort of gum which is almost liquid, but which\nbecomes hard when it is exposed to the air. The spider spins and twists its\nslender threads just as a rope-maker twists his ropes, only using its feet\nfor hands--for each fine thread in the web, which you could break with one\ntouch of your finger, is made up of many finer ones, and thus rendered\nstrong. The only tools which the spider uses for his rope-walk and in his\nloom, are his own claws, which are furnished with comb-like fingers, and an\nextra claw, for winding up the thread into a ball.\n\nIf you could watch the spider at his work, you would see that he first\nmarks the outline, by passing this thread from one leaf or branch to\nanother, until the circle is as large as the web he intends to make; then\nthis circle is filled with lines, which are woven from the outside to the\ncentre, and resemble the spokes of a cart-wheel. A spider has actually been\nseen trying the strength of these cords which form the foundation of his\nweb, breaking any that are not strong, and weaving others in their stead;\nfor he has a sure instinct which tells him that if the framework is faulty,\nall will fall to pieces; and only when, by pulling each thread separately,\nhe is certain that each will hold, does he begin to work from the centre,\nand spin ring after ring, the threads which pass from one spoke to another.\nWhen all is finished, the workman rests from his labour, and may often be\nseen sitting in the place which he has left for himself in the middle of\nhis own web, watching with all his eyes for his prey.\n\nA careful little fellow too is the spider; he is not ashamed to mend as\nwell as to make, and you may see him busily repairing his broken net, and\nmay know, by means of this little barometer, what weather to expect; for he\nis too wise to waste his silken threads and busy skill in making or mending\na net for a coming storm to break.\n\n  \"When the spider works away,\n  Be pretty sure of a sunny day.\"\n\nVery soon after the little spiders leave the silky ball in which they are\nhatched, they begin to make webs of their own; but I. have heard that these\nfirst attempts look very irregular, which shows us that although God has\ngiven them the instinct by which they set about weaving snares, they learn,\nas we do, by painstaking and practice, to make their work more and more\nperfect.\n\nPerhaps one reason why God has allowed us to watch the spider lay snares\nfor his prey, is to keep us in mind of the snares of which He tells us in\nHis Book. There are many very important passages about snares to which we\ndo well to take heed.\n\nWhile I was telling you about the way the spider has of pulling each of the\ncords which form the foundation of his web, one by one, to make sure that\nthere is no weak place in any of them, I remembered something which a young\ngirl once said to her mother. Alice had always been a merry, happy child,\nthe light and joy of her home, and she loved her father and mother and\nlittle brothers and sisters, and the lambs and birds and flowers and summer\nsunshine, and games and treats, just as much as you do. But as she grew\ntall, Alice was not so strong; the child who, when she was nine years old,\nhad \"climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn\"--running on before\nall the rest, until the guide called her his mountain-goat, and actually\ngetting first to the top of the mountain--when she was about seventeen,\nbegan to fade like a flower, and to grow weaker and weaker day by\nday. [Footnote: _The Master's Home Call_. Memorials of Alice Frances\nBickersteth, by her father.]\n\nHer parents sorrowfully took her from place to place, hoping that fresh air\nmight give new life to their child, and bring back the roses to her pale\ncheeks. But nothing made her better, and at last, when they brought her\nhome again from the seaside, her father thought the time had come to tell\nAlice that the doctors all said the same thing; she might live a few months\nlonger, but she would never, never be well and strong again, for she was\nnot only very ill, but dying.\n\n[Illustration: MOUNTAIN PEAKS.]\n\nIt was lovely bright summer weather; you would have thought the sunshine\nand the soft air would have made anyone well, as Alice lay on the sofa\nwhile her dear father read to her. They had been reading the Epistle to the\nPhilippians, and when they came to the verse where the Apostle Paul says,\nthat to him \"to die is gain,\" and to that other verse which speaks of\ndeparting \"to be with Christ, which is far better,\" though he could hardly\nspeak for tears, he told her just what the doctors had said.\n\nI do not know whether Alice had ever thought of not getting better, but\nlong before her illness, when she was strong and well, she had come to\nthe Lord Jesus Christ--and now He was her Saviour and Friend, so that her\nfather was not afraid to tell her that she was going to Him. This is what\nshe said, as soon as he had told her:\n\n\"Dear father, I am not afraid to go. How I thank you for telling me.\" Then,\nwhen the tears came at the sight of his grief, she added, \"It is only\nleaving you all; but Jesus will be there. What should I do without my\nSaviour now?\"\n\nFrom this time Alice very often spoke, about dying, but she always called\nit \"going home.\" It was very soon after her father had told her, that she\nsaid to her mother those sweet words which came to my mind when we were\nspeaking of the little spider making quite sure that his threads were\nstrong, with no weak place anywhere.\n\n\"I feel just like a sailor,\" Alice said. \"When he is called to go aloft, he\ntries all the ropes to see if they are firm. I have been trying them all,\nand, mother, they are all right.\"\n\nAnother time, when someone said, \"You always looked happy, Alice,\" she\nsmiled and said, \"Yes, but I am happier now.\" And when he asked, \"Have you\nno fear whatever?\" she replied, \"None whatever.\"\n\nBut had this always been so? Ah! no. It is true that she had always been a\nloving child, and had many bright ways about her which made people fond of\nher, so that it was no trouble to her to win love from all around her; but\nAlice had a very strong will, and liked to do just as she pleased, and as\nshe grew up she often showed that she was indeed far away from God, and\none of those \"lost sheep\" whom the Lord Jesus, the Good Shepherd, came to\n\"seek and to save.\" But He had sought and found her, and now He was gently\ncarrying her home on His shoulder.\n\nThis is what Alice herself said about it: \"I used to be afraid of death;\nbut God has taken it all away. I cannot understand people calling it 'being\nin danger.' Once my sins seemed to me as a mountain-pile, but they have all\nbeen laid on Jesus, and His blood is peace. It is all done for me. I have\nnothing to do but to keep clinging to Jesus till I see Him.\"\n\nI wonder, when she spoke of having had all her sins laid on Jesus, whether\nAlice was thinking of that verse which says, \"All we, like sheep, have gone\nastray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on\nHim the iniquity of us all.\"\n\nHow well it was for her that she had learnt to know her Saviour before the\ntime of illness came; for she was then so weak and so very, very tired that\nshe could not think much; but only, as she said, \"keep clinging to Him.\"\nAnd as she grew weaker and weaker, I am sure the Good Shepherd taught her\nthat even if she could not cling to Him--and it was no longer \"the weak\nclinging to the Strong, but the Strong clinging to the weak\"--she was safe,\nfor He has said of His sheep, \"I give unto them eternal life; and they\nshall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of My hand. My\nFather, which gave them Me, is greater than all; and no man is able to\npluck them out of My Father's hand. I and My Father are one.\"\n\nAlice had near her bed, where she could always see it, a beautiful picture\nof a shepherd with a lamb upon his bosom. She was very fond of looking at\nit, and saying how it made her think of herself. \"If you see a flock of\nsheep going along the road, and one of them is very weary,\" she said--one\nday when she was very tired, and her feet were very hot, so that she felt\nas if they would never be cool again--\"you would not like to see them go on\ndriving it, but would wish to see the shepherd take it in his arms to the\nfold.\" She asked that these works, \"My Beloved is mine, and I am His,\"\nshould be put upon her gravestone, saying that it was her favourite text;\nand against her name in the family Bible she wished them to write,... \"so\nHe bringeth them unto their desired haven.\"\n\nWhen she was almost Home, her father spoke to Alice about the many she had\nto love on earth, and the many in heaven; for two little sisters, Constance\nand Eva, were already with the Lord. Looking up with a smile, as if she\nreally saw the One who had been her Friend in life, and from whose love\ndeath could not separate her, she said softly, \"Whom have I in heaven but\nThee?\"\n\nI think these were her last words; a little before, she had said, \"It seems\nstrange to be going where you can none of you come with me; but He is\nthere, and that is enough.\"\n\nIf you are like the rest of my young friends, you do not mind having the\nSpider's history interrupted, that we might think of this sweet story of\nAlice, and how she too \"tried the ropes,\" and found them \"all right.\" But\nthere was one great difference, was there not? The spider's ropes are spun\nout of his own body; they are twisted so strongly and firmly by his own\nfeet; but Alice knew that if she was to be safe in life and in death,\nnothing of her own was strong enough to hold by; she could be saved only\nbecause the Lord Jesus Christ had finished the work which God gave to Him\nto do. It was because Alice knew Whom she had believed that she could say\nshe had tried the ropes and found them all right; she knew they would bear\n_any_ strain, and so she could answer that question about being afraid, and\nreply that she had no fear whatever.\n\nI want just here to copy for you some beautiful lines, written by one who\n\"fell asleep in Jesus\" when he was quite young, not yet sixteen; they were\nfound in his pocket-book.\n\n  \"Oh! I have been at the brink of the grave,\n  And stood on the edge of its dark, deep wave;\n  And I thought, in the still calm hours of night,\n  Of those regions where all is for ever bright;\n    And I feared not the wave\n    Of the gloomy grave,\n  For I knew that Jehovah was mighty to save.\n\n  \"I have watched the solemn ebb and flow,\n  Of life's tide which was fleeting sure though slow;\n  I've stood on the shore of eternity,\n  And heard the deep roar of its rushing sea;\n    Yet I feared not the wave\n    Of the gloomy grave,\n  For I knew that Jehovah was mighty to save.\n\n  \"And I found that my only rest could be\n  In the death of the One who died for me;\n  For my rest is bought with the price of blood,\n  Which gush'd from the veins of the Son of God;\n    So I fear not the wave\n    Of the gloomy grave,\n  For I knew that Jehovah is mighty to save.\"\n\nHow happy it was for his parents to read these words in their dear boy's\nown writing, after they had laid his body to rest in the grave which had no\nterror for him!\n\nBut to return to our Spider, or Spinner, as his name means. You have not\nonly watched him coming down from the ceiling upon his own strong rope,\nspinning it longer and longer as he travels, but have seen him crawling\nalong the ceiling head downwards, and perhaps wondered that he did not\nfall. If you were to look at one of those eight feet of his through a\nmicroscope, your wonder would be turned into admiration, as you saw the\nbeautiful little brushes by which he is enabled to cling fast to the smooth\nsurface, and walk along the ceiling as securely as you do on the floor.\n\nAnd now I will leave you to read in some interesting book how prisoners\nhave tamed House-spiders, and about the Water-spider which has been known\nto spin its nest in a tumbler of water, and the great Americans, as large\nas sparrows, which catch tiny birds; for it is time to pass on to the\nInsect family. But I must first tell you a story about a Tarantula, a very\nlarge spider, which lives in the south of Europe, as well as in tropical\ncountries, and makes holes for itself about four inches deep in the ground.\n\nTwo officers from India agreed to spend their furlough together in a visit\nto Australia, the one for the sake of making researches in natural history,\nthe other for any chance interest or amusement that might offer itself in a\nnew country.\n\nThe former, Dr. Prendergast, was one day writing in his log cabin, when a\nhuge Tarantula spider gently lowered itself from the roof by its slender\ncord, and dangled in front of him. \"Ha!\" said the naturalist, making sure\nof the handsome specimen that had thus unwittingly come within his reach,\n\"I'll have you, my good fellow\"; and taking a valuable pin from his necktie\nhe made a dexterous shot, and pierced him through the body.\n\nTo his dismay, however, the spider, quite equal to the occasion, turned\nand bit him so sharply that he drew back with a cry, and before he could\nrecover himself, the Tarantula had scrambled back up its rope, bearing the\npin with it, and was again safe in its hiding place in the roof.\n\nNow as the pin contained a precious stone which Dr. Prendergast had had set\nin order to carry it about in safety, he was exceedingly annoyed at this\nloss, and he and his companion searched the roof with care in the hope\nof finding it; but all in vain, and Dr. Prendergast could only reproach\nhimself with having made such a foolish experiment.\n\nA few days later he was again writing in the same position, when he beheld\nhis enemy the spider once more descending from the roof, and to his\nsurprise and joy it carried with it the pin, still sticking through its\nbody. This time our naturalist made no vainglorious display of his power as\na marksman, but beating down the spider with the nearest object at hand,\nhe again possessed himself of the lost treasure, now doubly valuable on\naccount of its extraordinary adventure, and his mother, for whom he was\npreserving the beautiful stone, afterwards wore it, set in a small brooch.\n\nThere are six \"orders\" of Insects, arranged according to their form, and\nthe number of their wings, and one of each is chosen to represent the whole\nclass.\n\nFirst, the Beetle.\n\nSecond, the Grasshopper.\n\nThird, the Dragon-fly.\n\nFourth, the Bee, the Wasp, and the Ant.\n\nFifth, the Butterfly, and the Moth.\n\nSixth, the Fly and the Gnat.\n\nI wonder which of all these we had better discuss; for there are such\nwonderful things to tell even of the tiniest creeping and winged creature,\nthat I only wish we had time for them all--the honey-making bees and\nthe paper-making wasps, the many coloured dragon-flies, the moths, the\nbutterflies and the beetles--but as we must choose one out of this great\nfamily, it shall be the \"wise\" and busy little ant: for how are we to learn\nthe lesson which God has given her to teach us, if we do not, as He bids\nus, \"consider her ways?\"\n\nBefore we attempt to do so by noticing her \"city,\" so full of life and\nbustle, suppose we ask ourselves for a moment how it is that we see so very\nfew insects in winter. Did you ever stand very still, in the silence of\na clear frosty day in the country, and wonder what made all around so\nstrangely quiet?\n\nOne reason is, that the myriads of insects, whose hum and buzz make a good\npart of the noise and stir of a summer afternoon, are all gone. No whirring\nwings rush past; there is no sound of \"dragon-fly, or painted moth, or\nmusical winged bee\" to break the stillness; all the insect-world seems\ndead, or flown south with the swallows--though, as there are still spiders'\nwebs to be seen, each delicate thread marked in sharp outline, like the\nrigging of an icebound ship, it would seem that there must still remain\nsome unwary fly to be taken in the beautiful snare.\n\nBut _are_ they all dead and gone, those happy winged things that danced up\nand down in shady nooks, or so lately shone like jewels in the sunshine?\nWhere are the topaz-coloured butterflies that glanced from flower to\nflower, the emerald tiger-beetles, the ladybirds, and the grasshoppers?\n\nSome of them are indeed dead; their little life, bounded by a few summer\ndays, was soon lived out; they have laid their eggs, making careful\nprovision for the protection and food of the young ones which they will\nnever see--for the eggs of insects will bear the cold which so soon proves\nfatal to their mothers--and their little hour of work in this busy world\nis finished; but many more are only very fast asleep. Like the dwarfish\nEsquimaux, when _their_ long dark winter comes, and they draw their mossy\nblankets over them, they are taking their winter rest, and lie hidden\nsafely in depths of soft moss, or beneath the bark of some ivy-grown tree,\nor deep in the lap of Mother Earth herself.\n\nAnd with many of them, before they wake to life again, such changes will\nhave taken place that they will come forth from their hiding-places like\nnew creatures, fitted to enjoy a new mode of living. It is not difficult to\nsee that this winter-sleep, or torpor, is no wasted time, but a means by\nwhich God has ensured the lives of hosts of His creatures which, having no\nextra clothing to protect them from the frost, and no power of migrating to\na land of sunshine and plenty, would otherwise be liable to perish during\nthe long season of cold and dearth.\n\nSo when\n\n  \"Bright yellow, red, and orange,\n  The leaves come down in hosts,\"\n\nthose insects whose life is in \"the herb of the field\" have the instinct\n(\"that power,\" as it has been well explained, \"of doing without thinking\nwhat _we_ do by thinking\") which makes them seek out some safe shelter or\nquiet hole, and there give themselves up to sleep, awakening only when\nthe time of the singing of birds has come, and all the green things are\nsprouting and budding, and there is food for them everywhere.\n\nThose who have watched this mysterious slumber, tell us that when it begins\nthe insect is as if benumbed, and will move when touched; but that as the\ncold increases, the torpor deepens, until the little dormant creature seems\nno longer to breathe, but lies to all appearance dead, until the warmth of\nthe sun shall break the spell, and call it up to life again.\n\nWe are a long time reaching the ant-city, but it would be quite an insult\nto the Insect-family to give no thought to the most wonderful thing about\nit--the \"transformations\" by which many of its six-legged members pass\nthrough their three distinct stages of existence; so it will be well\nto turn over a few pages in the story of the Butterfly, one of the\nfamily-branch called Lepidoptera, because its wings are covered with\nthousands of tiny scales, which enclose the colouring that makes them as\nsoftly tinted as the flowers upon the nectar of which it feeds.\n\n  [Illustration:... \"Little butterfly, indeed\n  I know not if you sleep or feed.\"]\n\nWhen we, by rough handling, brush the bloom off a butterfly's wing, we have\nreally torn away these delicate scales.\n\nLet us suppose we have been so fortunate as to find a Red-admiral, the\nmost gorgeous of British butterflies--often found late in the summer near\nnettles, because its caterpillar used to like their leaves better than any\nother.\n\nWe will look at this beautiful insect and see what it _is_, and then go\nback in its history and find out what it _was_.\n\nIt has six feet, and its head bears two horns or feelers (\"antenn\u00e6,\" they\nare called), two large eyes which, when seen under a microscope, seem as if\ncut like precious stones, and a trunk like that of an elephant, which it\ncan uncurl so as to suck the honey from the very heart of the flowers. Its\nlegs are hairy, and very little used; its body, light and slender. Of the\nbroad, beautifully-marked wings, generally erect when at rest, we need not\nspeak, for it would be impossible to describe them.\n\nNow for a page or two in the early history of this brilliant creature.\nWe will go back to the time when it was a tiny egg, laid by the mother\nRed-admiral shortly before her own death; this egg soon develops into the\n\"larva,\" or caterpillar--the word, which means a _mask_, expressing that\nthe butterfly that is to be, is thus disguised in its first form.\n\nHow admirable are God's orderings--the same spring sunbeams which, as it\nwere, waken up the living creature sleeping in the egg deposited by Mrs.\nRed-admiral, also cause the green things, upon which it will feed so\nvoraciously, to appear!\n\nFor the little worm is a tremendous eater; it seems to do almost nothing\nelse during its grub existence; but eats and grows, eats and grows;\nconstantly changing its skin for a new one in order to obtain room for\nitself, while it is laying up a store against the time when it will be\nunable to take in food.\n\nAt last it really seems tired of eating, and after it has cast its skin\nfour times, the fifth one becomes thick and hard, and the caterpillar hangs\nitself by a fine silken thread of its own spinning to a twig, and passes\ninto its second stage--that of the \"pupa,\" or chrysalis, from which it will\nawaken, a thing of life and beauty, to live in the air instead of crawling.\n\n[Illustration: (A) CATERPILLAR; (B) CHRYSALIS.]\n\nThe name \"pupa\" or doll, was given to the creature in this stage, because\nlong ago people thought the way in which insects are thus enclosed was\nsomewhat like the way in which the babies used to be wrapped round in\nbandages or \"swaddling clothes\": it is also called a \"chrysalis,\" because\nsometimes dotted with gold or pearly spots. But the wonder of it is that\ninside that narrow shell lies an insect quite unlike the caterpillar which\nlay down to rest; a creature with legs and wings beautifully folded, all\nready for use when the time for its release has come.\n\nHow little we dream, as we watch a caterpillar crawling along a leaf, of\nwhat lies hidden beneath its skin! Yet I have read of a naturalist who\nproved for himself that it was actually so. Having killed a full-grown\ncaterpillar, he let it remain for a minute or two in boiling water, then\ngently drew off the outer skin, and beheld to his delight \"a perfect and\nreal butterfly.\" But though I tell you of this, I do not wish you to\ntry the experiment, as he warns us that it requires great care, for the\nlimbs of the butterfly are very tender and small, and folded in a very\ncomplicated manner. Nor should I advise you to try hatching butterflies\nlike chickens, by enclosing some chrysalides in a glass shaped like an egg,\nand placing them under a hen, though it has been done successfully!\n\nThere seems no doubt that all the while the caterpillar sleeps within its\nchrysalis, it is being made ready for the new kind of existence it is to\nenjoy; and just as, while the grub lay dormant in the egg, its food was\nbeing prepared, so while the butterfly that is to be sleeps in its dark\ntomb, the flowers upon which it is to live are slowly unfolding to the\nlight.\n\nAnd now, what words can describe the wonder of the _third_ chapter of this\nstory of life in its changes? The pupa dies and falls to pieces,\n\n  \"An inner impulse rends the veil\n    Of his old husk,\"\n\nand the butterfly comes forth, a glorious creature, \"a living flash of\nlight\" whose home is in the sunbeam!\n\nWhat a change! No wonder that it has so long been looked upon as a parable\nand type of resurrection, an image of what will come to pass when the Lord\nJesus comes, according to that promise which was a comfort to that little\ngirl in the Children's Hospital, for His own--whether they have \"fallen\nasleep in Jesus,\" or are living on this earth--and all \"they that are\nChrist's at His coming\" shall be \"changed in a moment, in the twinkling of\nan eye.\"\n\nTo both alike the Lord will give a body of glory, \"fashioned like unto His\nglorious body,\" a body which knows not, weakness or suffering or death--\"a\nspiritual body.\"\n\nYou remember--do you not?--that a type is but a very small and faint\npicture of the real thing; yet, when you see a butterfly, and think of what\nit once was and what it has become, let it preach its little sermon to you;\nsay to your own heart, \"If that wonderful moment, which is so soon coming,\nwere to come just now, should I be one of those who are Christ's at His\ncoming? Would my body be changed and made like His glorious body? Should\nI 'be caught up together with them' (those who 'sleep in Jesus') 'in the\nclouds, to meet the Lord in the air,' and so be for ever 'with the Lord'?\"\n\nAnd now as we turn from the wonderful story of the butterfly, in which we\nmay, as has been said, \"see the resurrection painted before our eyes,\"\nto the busy little ants; let us see that it is the sluggards, the lazy\npersons, who are especially told to \"consider\" their ways. To do this we\nmust visit them in their own home, which we shall find in some pine-wood,\nlike the \"pincushion-wood,\" or in some grassy thymy spot, covered with\nlittle green tufts. Each of these grassy hillocks is an ant nest, and if\nyou look inside you will find that it contains a great many tiny rooms,\nconnected by galleries. Some of the rooms are hollowed out below the\nsurface of the earth; these are the cellars where the baby-ants are kept\nwarm in cold weather, while in summer they are taken by their watchful\nnurses to the cool upper storeys.\n\nNow I have read that every ant-city has its wary sentinel, to keep watch\nand ward, and give warning of the approach of the foe. And when he does\ngive warning there is a great hurry-scurry in the town; young ants, whether\nin their larva or pupa stage, must be carried down to the cellars for\nsafety, and all the provisions which have been collected and stored with\nso much care must also be removed to a secure hiding-place. But who is to\naccomplish all this?\n\nIf you notice carefully, you will see that it is a mistake to think of\nthese insects as all of one kind, and you may have heard that they have\nbeen divided by those who have studied them, into three classes--males,\nfemales, and neuters.\n\nIt is about the neuters we will talk now, for these busy, unselfish little\ncreatures do all that has to be done; the whole work of the ant-city is\nleft to them. It is they who collect the food--and very clever hunters they\nare, carrying their prey, whether alive or dead, right home to the nest; it\nis they who build the nests with their chambers and galleries, and bring up\nthe little ones. Yet these earnest little workers have no wings, and must\ntoil along upon their feet, while the ladies and gentlemen lead much easier\nlives, and fly about at will.\n\nStill I do not think the workers are to be pitied, for they know their\nwork, and do it in a very beautiful and unselfish way; and we must not\nforget that when the earth was in all the freshness of its beauty--no\nserpent's trail, no touch of fallen ruined man to mar its perfectness--\"the\nLord God took Adam, and put him into the garden of Eden, to dress it and to\nkeep it.\" As an old writer says--\"What was man's storehouse was also man's\nworkhouse; his pleasure with his task ... if happiness had consisted in\ndoing nothing, man had not been employed.\"\n\nA child, who has been set to watch beside the cradle of a baby brother\nor sister, and wants very badly to be off to play, may learn a lesson of\npatience from the way in which these little workers take care of the\nbabies which are their special charge--for I suppose an ant's egg may be\nconsidered in its tiny way like a baby in its cradle.\n\nThese eggs are at first so small that you could scarcely see them, and\nthey would probably never become living ants if not diligently tended; but\nunder the care of their nurses they soon grow larger, and at the end of a\nfortnight the baby ants creep out, not bigger than grains of sand, but with\nhead and wings complete. The first want of every living thing is food, so\nthe nurses begin to feed their charge by placing the little open mouths to\ntheir own, and giving them the food which they have stored. Then I have\nwatched them carrying them up and down, that they may enjoy the warmth of\nthe cellars or the air and sunshine of the upper rooms, just as if they\nhad a thermometer to tell them the exact amount of heat or cold that was\nneeded. And I must not forget to tell you that part of the duty of the\nnurses is to keep their babies white and clean, and this they do not\nneglect, but wash them with their tongues, as pussy washes her kitten.\n\nEven when their nurslings are full-grown, and begin to spin a silken cocoon\nround themselves, and it would seem as if, being no longer in need of food,\nthey might be left to themselves, the untiring workers do not give up their\ncharge. We may see them carrying little oval bodies carefully about: and\nthese are the cocoons which they take to the top of the nest every morning,\nand back again at night. Most wonderful of all, they have an instinct which\ntells them when the perfect insect within the cocoon is ready to escape\nfrom its prison-house, and also that it is not strong enough to force its\nown way through. Working three or four together, very gently and patiently\nthey open the silken covering, just where the insect's head lies, cutting\nthe threads one by one until a hole is made, large enough for the young ant\nto crawl through.\n\nWhen at last released from what has been its cradle and its prison, the\ntiny creature is still wrapped in a thin covering, which the kind nurses\nremove. They carefully stretch out the wings of the males and females, and\npile the empty cocoons outside the nest ready for building; for waste and\ndisorder are unknown in an ant-city.\n\nNursery days ended, the young insects are now shown \"all over the house,\"\nconducted from one \"winding stair\" to another, taught to know friends from\nfoes, fed and petted, until they take their airy flight beyond the reach of\nthe wingless caretakers of their infant needs.\n\nBy-and-by you will read more about how the workers, by their busy toil,\n\n  \"Raise such monstrous hills along the plain\n  Larger than mountains,\"\n\nin proportion to their own small size; you will read also strange stories\nof how they collect the eggs of those little green insects which you may\nsee in such numbers upon a rosebud, and tend them with great care--because\nthese tiny aphides are their \"cows,\" and they \"milk\" them by gently\nstroking them with their antenn\u00e6, and so obtain a kind of honey--also how\nthe red and black ants occupy the positions of masters and slaves, the\nblacks doing all the hardest work, and being kept strictly indoors; and how\nit is not _all_ work, even with the workers, for they have been caught at\nplay, having high games of leap-frog and hide-and-seek!\n\nInteresting as is the mode of life among our ants at home, not less so is\nthat of those found in Southern Europe and in Syria, as well as in India.\nThey are called \"Harvesters,\" because they \"prepare their meat in the\nsummer\" by gathering the seeds of grasses, and storing them in granaries\nagainst the winter. I have watched long trains of these ants going and\nreturning with their loads, keeping their \"own side\" as carefully as if\npassengers in London streets. A naturalist who was watching such a train,\nonce strewed a number of grey and white beads about, and waited to see what\nwould happen. One unsuspicious ant seized a bead and trotted off with it\nto the nest; but not so a second time; the mistake was soon found out, and\nthe (to them) worthless beads were left untouched by the wary workers, who\nbefore they stored the seeds in their granary, took off the chaff and left\nit in heaps outside, to be blown away by the wind.\n\nIt has been thought strange that the seeds thus collected do not sprout and\ngrow, but for this moisture would be necessary, and the ants keep their\ngrain as free from it as possible, spreading it out in the sun to dry, and\nstoring it in granaries, underground like the nurseries, but quite distinct\nfrom them.\n\nIf you have ever disturbed one of their nests, you do not need to be\ntold that ants, as well as bees and wasps, have stings, with a \"poison\napparatus\" like that of a serpent.\n\nHow wonderful are these tiny creatures made by God, who has set them in\ntheir places in His creation, and given them their work to do, and the\ninstinct which enables them so faithfully to play their part in the great\nworld, that they are set as a pattern for us to imitate! How true it is\nthat\n\n  \"Each shell, each crawling insect holds a rank\n  Important in the scale of Him who framed\n  This scale of beings; holds a rank which, lost,\n  Would break the chain, and leave a gap behind\n  Which Nature's self would rue.\"\n\nAnd what may we learn from the Harvester-ant, who \"provideth her meat in\nthe summer\"?\n\nI think I can hear you answer, \"A lesson of prudence and foresight.\"\n\nSurely this is so: \"The ants are a people not strong but they prepare their\nmeat in the summer\"; on this account they have their place among the \"four\nthings which are little upon the earth, but they are exceeding wise,\" and\nwe do well to consider their ways and learn the lesson which they teach us.\n\nBefore we quite leave the ant-city, I should like to tell you that the eggs\nof ants grow while hatching, to accommodate themselves to the increasing\nsize of the tiny creature within them. There are many interesting things\nto be observed about the eggs of insects; as to their colour, they are\ngenerally of that best adapted for concealment; as to the way in which\nthey are hatched, I have heard that the mother insect--the Earwig was the\none mentioned--sometimes sits upon her eggs, and that one of the spiders\nhas been seen sitting upon the silken bag which contained its eggs, and\ncarrying it away if disturbed.\n\nI ought to have told you that there are two great divisions of the insect\nfamily--those which suck liquid food through their proboscis or trunk,\nsuch as flies and butterflies, and those--such as the beetles, bees, and\nlocusts--which bite and eat solid food with their jaws. Dearly as I should\nlike to tell you about bees, both \"solitary\" and \"social,\" \"masons\" and\n\"carpenters,\" we must not make this chapter longer, so we will speak only\nof the Locusts.\n\nIf I could let you have a peep into the box where I keep a specimen-locust,\nwhich came to me by post from his native country, you would notice his\npowerful jaws, which are so strong that they inflict a severe wound; but it\nis not on account of their bite that locusts have been used by God as His\n\"exceeding great army\" to punish those who hardened themselves against Him;\nbut because wherever they alight in their countless myriads, they devour\nevery green thing, turning a fruitful field into a barren desert in a few\nhours.\n\n[Illustration: THE LOCUST.]\n\nDid you ever _see_ as well as hear a grasshopper? The locust is an insect\nof the same kind, and I have heard that African locusts in the first stage\nof their life are as green as grasshoppers, but wingless--though they\nafterwards have very pretty wings. They are described as crowding together,\n\"standing upon each other in heaps four or five deep, or gradually\nadvancing over each other's backs, eating all before them.\"\n\nA flight of locusts is indeed a wonderful sight. An African traveller once\nsaw advancing towards him a dark cloud; the seeming storm came nearer and\nnearer; ah! it was no snow-storm or hail-storm, but a living cloud of\nlocusts. He thus describes it, as it came upon him and his companions:\n\n\"Each flake of snow was a locust; we stood with our backs to them, and\nthey struck us over the face and ears; we had to protect our eyes with our\nhands; the ground where the flight had settled was soon bare, and the trees\nleafless.\" Can you wonder that such a storm-cloud should be dreaded beyond\nany other, and that when the Egyptian sky was darkened by it--and \"before\nthem there were no such locusts as they\"--Pharaoh besought that God might\nbe entreated to take away this \"death\" from him and from his land? And they\nwere not the only creatures used by God at that time to punish the proud\nand wilful king who refused to let His people go that they might serve Him.\n\nBut we must now end this long chapter, remembering that we have spoken\nof only a few of the living creatures which belong to the vast family of\nanimals which have no body framework or skeleton; you can read in larger\nbooks the wonderful things which are told about jelly-fishes and sponges,\nbees and wasps, flies and gnats, and green tiger-beetles--for when we\nhave made a beginning in these little talks of ours together about God's\ncreatures, it will be pleasant to go on; so pleasant for some of us that,\nhaving once begun, the difficult thing will be to know where to leave off.\n\nI wish I could show you some pictures which I have seen of fossil insects.\nI believe white ants and dragon-flies, and even a butterfly, have been\nfound among the rocky strata, but those of which I speak were preserved in\namber, which is a clear yellow substance, long thought to be a mineral,\nbut now recognised as the hardened resin of ancient pine-trees. In this\ntransparent sepulchre bees and wasps, gnats, spiders, and beetles have been\nburied, some uninjured, and others with broken legs or wings. They must\nhave got into the sticky gum while it was moist, and been unable to\nescape--and so have lain for ages in their transparent tomb.\n\nI wonder whether these verses, which came to my mind while we were speaking\nof the lessons we should learn from those creatures which faithfully use\nthe wisdom given them, are new to you.\n\n  \"_Never man spake like this man_.\"\n\n  \"From everything our Saviour saw,\n  Lessons of wisdom He would draw;\n  The clouds, the colours in the sky;\n  The gently breeze that whispers by;\n  The fields, all white with waving corn;\n  The lilies that the vale adorn;\n  The reed that trembles in the wind;\n  The tree where none its fruit can find;\n  The sliding sand, the flinty rock,\n  That bears unmoved the tempest's shock;\n  The thorns that on the earth abound;\n  The tender grass that clothes the ground;\n  The little birds that fly in air;\n  The sheep that need the shepherd's care;\n  The pearls that deep in ocean lie;\n  The gold that charms the miser's eye:\n  All from His lips some truth proclaim,\n  Or learn to tell their Maker's name.\"\n\nCAROLINE FRY.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIFTH DAY.\n\n\"FOWL OF THE AIR, AND FISH OF THE SEA.\"\n\n\n\"_And God gave Solomon wisdom and understanding exceeding much.... He spake\nalso of beasts, and of fowls, and of creeping things, and of fishes._\"--I\nKINGS iv. 29-33.\n\n\"_The fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth\nthrough the paths of the seas._\"--PSALM viii. 8.\n\n\nWe have already seen that it was on the FIFTH DAY that the two great\noceans--the world of air above, and the world of water below--were peopled\nwith inhabitants; that \"God saw that it was good,\" and that all these happy\nliving things began their life blessed by Him who gave it.\n\nI wonder whether it will surprise you to hear that in some respects the\ninhabitants of these two worlds are alike.\n\nPerhaps if you think of a fish and a bird--say a herring and a sparrow--you\nwill say two creatures could hardly be less like each other; the bird has\nsoft warm feathers, and the fish has scales, overlapping each other as the\nslates on the roof of a house do, thus making a perfectly waterproof coat\nfor its whole body; the bird has legs and wings, and the fish has neither;\nthe bird can chirp and sing, while fishes generally make no noise.\n\nBut if you could look inside the feathers and the scales, you would\nsee that there is a likeness in the bony structure of these creatures,\notherwise so unlike. Both are vertebrate animals, though the backbone of\na fish is in some respects unlike that of a bird, still the _plan_ is the\nsame, and it has been truly said that \"among the many wonders of nature\nthere is nothing more wonderful than this--the adaptability of the one\nVertebrate type to the infinite variety of life to which it serves an as\norgan and a home.\" But when you said that the herring had neither legs nor\nwings, you forgot to notice the fins, by means of which it moves from place\nto place in its watery home; as the bird, on its strong wings, makes its\nway through the fields of air. Birds too, lay eggs, and so do most fishes,\nsome of them even making nests; so there are points in which they resemble\neach other, are there not?\n\nBut while we know a good deal about the ways and habits of birds, very\nlittle is known of the life of a fish; for it is much more difficult to\nwatch its way of living, and what is known about animals has been learned\nby watching them patiently.\n\nSometimes when you are in a boat sailing over very calm, clear water, you\nmay look down and see the fishes darting here and there, and you may even\nthink that if the boat would but stop you could catch one in your hand; but\nthe only way in which you can really watch fishes sufficiently to see their\nmode of life, is by studying the habits of those which have been caught and\nput into glass tanks in an aquarium, where they live and move about just as\nbirds do in their cages; only the fishes' tank must contain water as well\nas air.\n\nSome time ago I went to an aquarium; it was close to the sea, so that there\nwas no want of water to fill the tanks. At the bottom there was sand, and\nthere were bits of rock, among which brown and green seaweeds were growing,\nin order that the prisoners might forget that they were shut up in a glass\nprison-house, and feel as much at home as possible in their captivity.\n\nThere they were, big fish and little fish, flat plaice and long\nserpent-like eels--fish of all sorts, of all shapes and sizes. There were\nother creatures as well as fish; lobsters and crabs and star-fishes; and\nthe anemones, which \"blow flower-like,\" and have such lovely colours that\nthey are sometimes called \"sea-roses,\" were waving their bright fringes to\nand fro, and catching the shrimps for their dinner with those same soft\nfingers of theirs. I should like you to see an aquarium such as this was;\nbut if you cannot just now, I daresay you may have the chance of watching a\ngold-fish in a globe of water, and noticing how it uses its fins to balance\nitself and steer its way through the water, and its tail to move itself\nalong so gracefully and swiftly; how it has two pairs of fins, which serve\nfor legs and arms, besides three others, the use of which you cannot so\nwell make out; and how the boat-like shape of the fish helps it to cut its\nway so rapidly through the water. If you keep drilled those two bright eyes\nover which God has made you officer, you will notice something near the\nfish's eye which keeps opening and shutting like a little door. That little\ndoor covers the gills, and it opens and shuts every time the fish breathes.\nBut now comes a question which used to puzzle me--that is, What does a fish\nbreathe?\n\n[Illustration: A CRYSTAL-WALLED PRISON]\n\nWhen I heard, long ago, that fishes cannot breathe if they are taken out of\nthe water, I used to think that they breathed the water; for then I knew no\nbetter than the boy who, when he had at last caught a minnow, put it into a\nbottle with plenty of water, and corked it up tight, in order to keep his\nprize safely.\n\nOf course the poor little fish was dead before he got home. It died, not\nfrom want of water, but from want of air; for fishes draw in and send out\nthe air through their gills, which are to them what your lungs are to you.\n\nThose fringes which you see when the little doors open, are the gills. They\nare so red because they are filled with blood; indeed, they are made of\na great number of little blood-vessels. As the fish swims along with its\nround mouth open, it does not swallow the water, but lets it run over its\ngills, and then out it comes at the little doors; the red fringes take the\noxygen out of the water, and it goes into the fish's blood. The water is\nthe fishes' atmosphere, and it is only from it that they can get air to\nbreathe; so that if the glass globe were broken, and the pretty goldfish\nwere let fall upon the carpet, unless they were quickly put back into water\nthey would gasp and die from want of air; just as you would, if someone\nheld your head long under water.\n\nSo you see that the home of the fish is perfectly suited to it. In the\naquarium you would observe that while most of the fishes dart hither and\nthither, there are some which never rise to the surface of the water. These\nare the flat-fish; and they keep at the bottom, because for some wise\npurpose God has made them without the power of rising and sinking like\nothers.\n\nInside most fishes there is a bag filled with air, as is the india-rubber\nball which you delight to bounce so high. The fish can make this little\nballoon larger or smaller, just as it wishes to be itself lighter or\nheavier. As it swims along, it is usually about the same weight as the\nwater; but when it wants to dive, the fish squeezes its air-bag tightly\ntogether, which causes its body to become heavier than the water--for air\npressed closely together becomes heavy, and its own weight sinks it down.\nWhen it wants to rise again to the surface, it ceases to squeeze this bag,\nthe air in the little balloon expands, and the diver rises again and floats\nor swims because its body is now lighter than the water.\n\nIs not this a very perfect and beautiful plan? How true it is that God has\nprovided for the wants of all His creatures, and fitted them for the life\ndesigned for them!\n\nBut besides rising or sinking when they please, fishes can turn themselves\nabout very quickly. To understand how they do this, you must look at the\nlong bone which runs right through the body, from head to tail. You will\nsee that it is made, like your backbone, of a number of small bones which\nmove upon each other so easily that they enable the fish to turn itself\nrapidly, as you see it does. The wonderful way in which these tiny bones\nare fitted together by what is called the \"ball and socket arrangement\" may\nbest be seen in a large fish, such as the salmon; but a sardine's frame is\nmade in the same beautiful way.\n\nThe scales, overlapping each other as they do, serve to protect the fish\nin its journey through watery ways, and their smooth, polished surface\nrendered slippery by a sort of natural oil, helps it to move quickly. We\nhave imitated the scales of a fish in the way in which we arrange slates\nand tiles to keeps our houses dry. You know how the slates on the roof of\nyour house overlap each other, so closely that no rain can get between\nthem.\n\nWhen I tell you that there are said to be nine thousand different kinds\nof fish in all parts of the world, you will understand that even in a\nlarge aquarium you can see but few varieties. In England alone hundreds of\nfresh-water fishes are known, while those whose home is in the sea are much\nmore numerous still.\n\nIt has been found that if fresh-water fish is taken out of its natural\nelement and put at once into the sea, it will die. But there are some fish,\nlike the salmon, which live in the sea, but go up the rivers to lay their\neggs, and then back again to their proper home; taking \"change of air,\" as\nit were, but taking it gradually, and not plunging into a foreign country\nall at once.\n\nSome fishes are great travellers. I have heard that what is called a\n\"shoal\" of herrings consists of millions of fish, and takes up a place in\nthe sea larger than the area of London. This fish takes its name from an\nold word which means an army; and the herring-army has to come a long, long\nmarch--if we so speak of a journey through \"the paths of the seas\"--before\nit, as it were, encamps near our shores.\n\nIn winter the herrings are far away north, within the Arctic Circle, but in\nthe spring they go south, travelling in shoals, six miles in length, and\nthree or four in breadth.\n\nWhen one of these great shoals comes near our northern shores it divides,\none part travelling west, the other east. It is in September that the\nherring fishing begins, and a busy time it is for the fishermen.\n\nThe fish are always caught at night, and the darker the night the better\nchance there is of a good catch. When I was a child I used often to stand\nand watch the boats setting out about sunset, and many a time did I wish I\nmight be of the party, for I thought no treat could be greater than to be\nallowed to stay out all night and see the nets full of shining fish drawn\nin over the sides of the boat. However, the fishermen are too wise to take\nchildren with them, for any noise frightens the herrings, so the fishing is\ndone in silence, under the quiet stars. If you saw a herring-net taken in,\nyou might forget yourself so far as to scream with delight at the sight of\nthe fish flashing like silver, and bright with blue and purple hues which\nno painter could copy. But the rainbow colours, like those you see upon a\nsoap bubble, are almost as soon gone; they will have lost their brilliancy\nbefore the boats come in, and the men begin to throw the fish on shore, and\nto count them.\n\nOne fish, \"the Arrow of the Sea,\" is never so beautiful as when it is\ndying. I have read that the Romans--after they ceased to be a brave people,\nand became idle and pleasure-loving--used to have these fish brought in\nbefore dinner and shown to the guests. The gay, thoughtless ladies, as they\nclapped their hands with delight at the beauty of the quickly-changing\ncolours--white turning to sky-blue, and then to deep red--cared no more for\nthe suffering of the poor fish, gasping and dying before them, than for the\nfading petals of a rose; so hard-hearted can people become, who think only\nof their own pleasure. If poor Jack had been there, it would have made\nhim grieved and angry indeed to have seen one of the \"God-made\" creatures\ntreated so cruelly, would it not? You remember how he loved all living\nthings, and could not bear that they should be hurt.\n\nFrom the Gold-fish, with their brilliant, flashing scales, you can form\nsome idea of how brightly coloured the fish in tropical seas are; but the\nmost brilliant fishes have not always the most graceful forms, nor are they\nso good for food as those better known to us.\n\nIt is very interesting to observe that the sea-creatures which live upon\nthe surface of the ocean are bluish or quite colourless and transparent, as\nsome jelly fish, which look as if they were made of glass, and one kind of\nfish of which I have heard that its body is so transparent that the words\nof a book can be read through it. Others, not very unlike, but whose home\nis at the bottom of the sea, have opaque and mud-coloured bodies. We\nfind that many creatures are of the same colour as their dwelling-place;\nbutterflies are bright, like flowers, insects living on leaves are green,\ndesert creatures are yellow or sand-coloured, those which live among the\nsnow are white or grey, while the winter lasts, though some of them change\ntheir coats during their short summer. In this way the hunters and the\nhunted alike escape observation.\n\nFish have been divided into different classes: there are those which have\nbony plates instead of scales, as the Sharks and Rays, and many fishes\nwhich exist only as fossils; and those called the \"splendid\" fish, from the\nbrilliancy of their coats of mail, which lock together like ancient armour.\nMost of them are extinct species, but the Sturgeon is one of these armoured\nfishes. Then the Mud-fishes form another class. But by far the most\nnumerous is that to which the Bony-skeletoned fishes, with scales like\nthose of the Salmon, belong. A few species are destitute of any bony\nor scaly covering; and one of them--the Electric Eel of South American\nrivers--protects itself by giving a sharp electric shock to any creature\nthat comes in its way!\n\nThe eyes of fish are sometimes large, and they can see a long way, and\nalso hear very quickly. Turbot, plaice, and other flat-fish, which have no\nswim-bladder, lie with one side in the mud at the bottom of the sea or\nrivers--Can you guess in which side of the head their eyes are placed?\n\n\"In the uppermost, and sometimes _both_ eyes are there.\"\n\nYou are right, for there would be no use for an eye in the side turned to\nthe mud.\n\nAs far as we know, fish are not clever creatures, but I have heard that\nsome kinds, kept as pets, have learnt to know the sound of the dinner\nbell just as well as the lions and tigers at the Zoo know their bell; and\nyou have seen how _they_ rush about their cages, and roar with hungry\nimpatience when it rings. I have read that some fishes of various kinds,\nsuch as Cod and Ling, kept for the use of the owners in a pond to which the\ntide came, near a house in Scotland, and regularly fed with limpets by an\nold woman who had charge of them, knew her voice, and would put out their\nheads and crowd to the side of the pond when she came near, and even let\nher take them up and stroke their cold backs; but I doubt that you will\nfind your gold-fish so intelligent and affectionate.\n\nI must not forget to speak of the fishes which make nests, for very\nfew such have been discovered, and they are considered curiosities of\nfish-life. Perhaps when we know more of the habits of the finny-tribe, we\nshall find that some others provide for the safety of their young in a\nsimilar way, but at present I believe the Stickleback, which not only makes\na nest but takes care of his young brood until they are six days old and\ncan \"find for themselves,\" is the only one known in Europe. In Demerara, a\nfish called the Hassar makes a floating cradle of grass or leaves for its\neggs, over which it watches carefully, being ready to defend it bravely\nwhen attacked; thus in Australia, an eel called the Jew-fish was one day\nnoticed swimming round and round a clear place among the reeds, and it\nturned out that it was guarding a nest of stones which it had placed in the\nriver bed.\n\nThere are one or two strange fishes which you will not see in any shop;\nthough if you have friends who \"follow the sea,\" they may have told you\nof the Sun-fish, sometimes caught in the west of Ireland; very large and\nround it is, of a silvery-white colour, so that on dark nights, when the\nfishermen have seen it shining as it swam, just under the water, it has\nseemed to them like the sun shining behind the clouds on a showery day; and\nthey have given it this name.\n\nYou may too, have heard strange tales of another round fish, called from\nits shape the Globe-fish, and from its skin the \"Sea-hedgehog\"; it is\ncovered with sharp thorns, and has the power, by swallowing air, of so\ngreatly increasing its size (without sharing the fate of the poor toad in\n\u00c6sop's Fable) that it not only can rise to the surface of the water, but\nfloat as long as it pleases. Then there are the blue Flying-herrings, with\nlong fins, which you would see if you took a voyage to Australia. These\npoor little creatures have enemies both in birds and fishes. When the\nsharks want to make a meal of them, they leap into the air, using their\nlong fins almost as a bird uses its wings, and are able to keep up for some\ndistance; some say they can fly five hundred feet; but alas! when they are\non the fin, the sea-gulls are eager and ready to pounce upon them, and they\nhave to take refuge in the sea again. With all their beauty, they have\na hard life of it, constantly escaping away from the sea-gull, into the\nshark!\n\nAnd now, when we have time, I think both you and I shall be pleased not\nonly to observe carefully the fishes which we see every day, but to\nread about others; about the sword-fish, which has neither scales for\nits protection, nor teeth, but whose snout forms a bone, four or five\nfeet long, set with sharp pointed teeth on each side--somewhat like a\ndouble-edged saw; this bone is a most formidable weapon when used against\nlarge fish, and is so strong that it has even pierced through the planks of\na boat; about the tiny Sea-horse, with its head so curiously like that of a\nhorse, and its wing-like fins; about the Whale, which is not really a fish\nat all (and why it is not will be something for you to find out), besides\na great many monsters of the deep of which I have not time to tell you.\nWe have already had a much longer talk about fish than my children had,\nalthough it was while we were speaking about fishing, and how the night is\nthe usual time for it, that we read two accounts of great numbers of fish\nbeing caught in the sea of Galilee--not at night, but in broad daylight.\n\nOne account is given in the gospel of Luke. You know that--the disciples,\nSimon and Andrew his brother, and James and John his brother, were\nfishermen, and used to launch their boats upon the Sea of Galilee, and let\ndown their nets into the deep blue water. It was when they had been fishing\nall night, and had caught nothing, that they left their boats beside the\nsea, and were busy washing their nets.\n\n[Illustration: \"THERE IS NOT A BREATH THE BLUE WATERS TO CURL.\"]\n\nFishermen feel very downhearted and disappointed when the morning comes,\nafter they have been out all night, and finds them with only a few fish in\ntheir boats: but these fishermen had got one fish. Peter said, \"We have\ntoiled all the night, and have taken nothing.\"\n\nThe Lord Jesus knew all about that long night of toil, as He sat in Peter's\nboat, and taught the crowds of people who stood on the shore; and He knew\nhow disappointed those tired fishermen must be. Presently He spoke to\nPeter, and said, \"Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a\ndraught. And Simon answering said unto Him, Master, we have toiled all the\nnight, and have taken nothing: nevertheless at Thy word I will let down the\nnet.\"\n\nNight is the best time for fishing, and all night they had toiled in vain.\nThe empty nets were there; but in Simon's boat was the One who had made the\nfish, and He caused them to fill the nets in such numbers that the slender\ncords broke, and both the boats were overladen.\n\n\"When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, Depart from\nme; for I am a sinful man, O Lord.\"\n\nHe felt what it was to be in the presence of the Lord; how unfit he was to\nbe near Him; but yet he could not bear to let Him go; Jesus said to Peter,\n\"Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men.\"\n\n\"What does it mean?\" May asked, when she had read this verse, \"How could\nPeter catch men?\"\n\nTo find the answer to her question, we read in the second chapter of Acts\nabout the first time Peter preached at Jerusalem, and how he told the\nvery people who had taken Jesus of Nazareth, and \"by wicked hands\" had\n\"crucified and slain\" Him, that God had raised Him from the dead, and \"made\nthat same Jesus, whom ye have crucified, both Lord and Christ.\" We read\nthat while he spoke of Him three thousand people received his word gladly.\nSurely at that time there was a fulfilment of the Lord's promise to him.\nPeter had indeed become a fisher of men--rescued from the cold waters of\ndeath, caught away from the grasp of Satan, henceforth to belong to Christ\nfor ever.\n\nBut before this time there had been that other scene beside the Galilean\nlake, of which we read at the end of the gospel of John.\n\nAgain after a weary night's fishing, the disciples had taken nothing;\nagain, at the word of the Lord, the net was cast over the side of the boat,\nand drawn in \"full of great fishes.\"\n\nThe Lord Jesus, after he rose from the dead, was still the same, always\nthinking of His dear disciples, and caring for them. You remember that He\nwould not allow the crowds of people, who had come from far to hear them,\nto go back to their homes hungry and tired, but that He made them rest on\nthe green grass while He fed them with the loaves and the little fishes.\nNow He knew all about Peter and James, and John and Thomas, and those two\nothers who had gone fishing with them. They had been out all night, and\nwere very hungry, and directly they came to land they could see that their\nLord had been thinking of how they would feel; for all that they wanted was\nready--a fire of coals on the shore, and fish laid upon it, and bread--and\nthey heard the voice which was so dear to them, that well-known voice which\nhad once come to them across the stormy waves saying, \"It is I; be not\nafraid,\" now bidding them, \"Come and dine.\" And it was from those kind\nhands, which had been pierced when He suffered the cruel death of the\ncross, that they received the bread and the fish which was prepared for\nthem.\n\nWhat a wonderful time to remember! I think Peter must have been thinking of\nit when he said to Cornelius, We \"did eat and drink with Him after He rose\nfrom the dead.\" Perhaps he also thought of another time when the Lord asked\nfor some food, \"and they gave Him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an\nhoneycomb. And He took it, and did eat before them\"--to show them, while\nthey yet believed not for joy and wondered, that it was indeed Himself who\nwas standing among them, risen from the dead.\n\nYou will find that there are a good many places in the Bible where fish\nare spoken of. I hope you will have in your list one which was given me by\nSharley only; although I had expected that everybody would have found it.\nIt is mentioned in the gospel by Matthew, alone. We are not told what sort\nof fish it was in whose mouth Peter found the \"stater,\" a piece of money\nworth about three shillings, which was exactly enough to give, as the Lord\ntold him, to those who had come to ask for money to meet some expenses\nbelonging to the temple. Every Jew paid a fixed sum, and this piece of\nmoney in the fish's mouth was just twice that sum. How beautiful that the\nOne who was God, and had power over the fish of the sea, to send them into\nPeter's net, or to make even a fish bring to Him the coin which was wanted,\nshould put Himself beside Peter, and say, \"Lest we should offend them, go\nthou to the sea, and cast an hook, and take up the fish that first cometh\nup; and when thou hast opened his mouth, thou shalt find a piece of money:\nthat take, and give unto them for Me and thee\"! Ah, but we know that the\nLord Jesus Christ was \"meek and lowly in heart\" and He loved to put His\ndisciples with Himself, as children of God His Father!\n\nA writer who lived at the time when our \"King James's\" Bible was\ntranslated, speaking of the sea as \"the great pond of the world,\" says, \"We\nknow not whether to wonder at the element itself, or the guests which it\ncontains.\"\n\nAs we have been learning a little of the ways of the inhabitants of the\nocean of air, as well as those that people the world of water, let me close\nthis chapter by quoting an American poet's beautiful verses:--\n\n\"TO A WATER FOWL.\n\n       \"Whither, midst falling dew\n  While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,\n  Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue\n       Thy solitary way?\n\n       \"Vainly the fowler's eye\n  Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong,\n  As, darkly painted on the crimson sky,\n       Thy figure floats along.\n\n       \"Seek'st thou the plashy brink\n  Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,\n  Or where the rocking billows rise and sink\n       On the chafed ocean side?\n\n       \"There is a Power whose care\n  Teaches thy way along that pathless coast--\n  The desert and illimitable air--\n       Lone wandering, but not lost.\n\n       \"All day thy wings have fanned\n  At that far height the cold, thin atmosphere;\n  Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,\n       Though the dark night is near.\n\n       \"And soon that toil shall end;\n  Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest\n  And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend\n       Soon o'er thy sheltered nest.\n\n       \"Thou'rt gone; the abyss of heaven\n  Hath swallowed up thy form; yet on my heart\n  Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,\n       And shall not soon depart.\n\n       \"He who, from zone to zone,\n  Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,\n  In the long way that I must tread alone,\n       Will lead my steps aright.\"\n\nW. C. BRYANT.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIFTH DAY.\n\nFLYING FOWL.\n\n\n\"_Gavest Thou the goodly wings unto the peacocks? or wings and feathers\nunto the ostrich?_\"\n\n\"_Doth the hawk fly by Thy wisdom, and stretch her wings toward the\nsouth?_\"\n\n\"_Doth the eagle mount up at Thy command, and make her nest on high?_\"--JOB\nxxxix. 13, 26, 27.\n\n\"_The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is\ncome, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land._\"--SONG OF SOLOMON\nii. 12.\n\n\nIt was on the FIFTH DAY of Creation that the silence was broken by the\nvoice of birds. We are so accustomed to the various cries of animals,\nthe buzzing of insects, and above all to the chirping and twittering and\nsinging of birds, that we can hardly imagine what a voiceless world would\nbe like.\n\nI have heard that far away in New Zealand, travellers who try to make\ntheir way through the great tangle of trees and creepers which is called\nthe \"Bush,\" speak of the silence and loneliness of the dense forests as\ndreadful, and they particularly mention that there is no voice of bird to\nbe heard there. Very different is a place I know, where, although the trees\nin which they perch are by the roadside, and noisy carts and carriages are\ncoming and going all day long, yet the sparrows overhead keep up such a\nconstant chatter and flutter that once as I passed that way a countryman\nlooked up at the trees and smiled, and said to me, \"Plenty of company up\nthere!\"\n\nWhen I told the children this they were much amused, and I am sure they\nthought it would be very dull never to hear the crowing of a cock or the\n\"quack, quack\" of a duck--to say nothing of the soft cooing of doves in the\nwood, and the sweet, rich notes of the thrushes and blackbirds.\n\nA Frenchman, who has written a very large book all about birds, says that\nif we were not so accustomed to them we should think a bird flying through\nthe air the most wonderful thing we had ever seen--and I think he is right;\nbut before we speak of these wonderful and beautiful creatures, let us read\nonce more the verses in Genesis which tell us of their birthday, beginning\nwith, \"And God said,\" and ending with, \"And the evening and the morning\nwere the fifth day.\"\n\nWe have been speaking of the living creatures which the waters brought\nforth, and now we must think a little of the \"winged fowl,\" which were made\nto people the \"expansion,\" and are sometimes called the \"fish of the air,\"\nas the fishes are called the \"birds of the ocean.\"\n\nOf all the happy living things I think none _seem_ so full of joy as the\nbirds. Their very flight has such buoyancy and gladness in it, and their\nsongs seem always to be telling of happiness. Did you ever watch the\nsea-gulls flashing and darting about, and then floating quietly above your\nhead, or the swallows in their rapid flight, wheeling round and round, and\nthink how beautiful a thing it is just to see them on the wing, fluttering,\nsoaring, floating in that ocean of air which is their home?\n\n[Illustration: A \"WINGED FOWL.\"]\n\nBirds are marked off from all other vertebrate animals by the possession\nof feathers. How wonderful is the wing of a bird; spread wide when it is\nflying, and folded up like a fan when it is resting, perched upon the\nbranch of a tree, swaying to and fro in the sunshine. But how sad it is to\nsee such a wild, free creature as a lark, or even a thrush or a linnet,\npent up in a narrow cage, where there is no room to stretch those wings\nso strong and light, no swinging branch to rest upon; but all the little\nprisoner can do is to hop from one perch to another, and beat its wings\nagainst the \"wiry grate\" which shuts it in so hopelessly. I suppose we\ndon't think so much of captive birds as of other captives, because a bird\nin a cage is such a common sight, and when we hear it sing so sweetly it\nseems as if it could not be _un_happy; but when we say \"as happy as a\nbird,\" I doubt if it is of birds in cages we are thinking after all.\n\nThe cage may be of gilded wires, or of willow twigs; but both are alike\nprison bars which keep the birdie back from the liberty to which it was\nborn. At least this was what an English sailor felt when he met a man\ncarrying a cage full of birds. He had been a prisoner himself, away\nin France, and had many a time longed to be free; and now when he saw\nthe birds in their gilded prison, he was not happy until he had made a\nbargain and got them, cage and all, to do what he liked with. What was\nthe astonishment of the man from whom he had bought them, when he saw the\nsailor open the cage door and let them out, one by one, until all the\nlittle prisoners were free!\n\nAs you have watched the birds in their flight, I daresay you have wondered\nhow they can keep themselves up in the air. Even the little wren has some\nweight; much more the crows which make their nests in the topmost branches\nof the trees. We say \"as light as a feather\"; yet the downiest feather has\nsome weight, and will find its way to the ground if not kept up by wind or\nbreath.\n\nIt is true that the \"feathered fowl,\" as all kinds of birds are called\nin the Bible, are very much heavier than the air in which they float and\nswim, using their wings for oars, just as the fish use their fins. But\ndo you remember that little balloon inside the fish, which enables it to\nrise through the water? A bird is almost a live balloon; as it flies, it\nbreathes air into every part of its body; this air becomes heated, and is\nkept warm by the feathers; and as hot air becomes light, the bird is so\nmuch lighter than the air which surrounds it, that it can easily rise\nhigher and higher, until, like the skylark, its little quivering body seems\nalmost lost in the far blue sky, and its \"waterfall of song\" alone shows\nwhere it is.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE WHITE SEA-GULL, THE BOLD SEA-GULL, A JOYFUL BIRD IS\nHE.\"]\n\nThe bones of a bird are very strong, but they are also very light; if you\nlook at the bones of a chicken, you will see that some of them are hollow;\nwhen the bird was alive, those hollow places were all filled with air. Take\na dead bird and look at the quills at the roots of the feathers; and now\nwatch that swallow as it darts so rapidly hither and thither. The bird is\nable to fill each tiny quill with air, so that its body becomes like a\nballoon, and it rises high above the roofs of the houses; then, like the\nfish, when it wishes to sink, it can breathe out all the air again, and so\nconstantly change its weight, and fly, now high, now low, faster than any\ntrain can rush or ship sail.\n\nThere is a wonderful bird which sailors have seen a thousand miles from\nland. It is called the Frigate-bird, and has never been known to rest on\nthe sea; it lives upon sea-creatures, but makes its nest on shore. Each of\nits wings, if stretched out as when the bird is flying, measures more than\nthe height of a man; yet even such an enormous bird as this does not sink\ndown by its own weight, but flies mile after mile upon its strong wings,\nevery feather of which unites strength and lightness, never resting till\nits airy voyage is over, and it finds its nest. It is said that when storms\nsweep over the sea, this \"ocean eagle\" mounts upward until it has reached\nthe calm which lies above the storm, and so sails upon its untroubled way.\n\nThe feathers of birds are to them what its scales are to the fish, and\nhair and wool to other animals--a protection. They are not only light and\nstrong, but warm, and by their means, as a bird soars into colder regions\nof air, it is protected from the cold: while for aquatic birds there is a\nspecial provision--by pressing with their beaks an oil-gland near the tail\nthey can waterproof their feathers! Now look again at your dead bird; you\nwill see that the wings and tail are formed of quills, while the surface\nof the body is covered with short feathers--even the ear being protected\nby a little tuft--and all the spaces between are filled with the softest,\nwarmest down. Could any creature be more beautifully equipped for its\njourney through the fields of air?\n\nThen this soft, warm, light dress is renewed once or twice a year,\ngenerally so gradually that the change is imperceptible--but you may have\nseen fowls and ducks straggling about the farmyard with half their feathers\ngone--on the principle of being off with the old coat before they are on\nwith the new.\n\nThe eyes of both fishes and birds have an extra lid formed of very thin\nskin, which can be moved quickly over the surface of the eye, serving to\ncleanse it and protect it.\n\nThere are three thousand distinct kinds of birds, but it would be\nimpossible to learn about so many, they have been divided into five\ngroups--birds of Prey, Perching birds, Scratching birds, Wading birds, and\nSwimming birds.\n\nI must tell you that Chrissie and Sharley and May had learnt something\nabout these groups from a book of which they are very fond; it is called\n_The First Year of Scientific Knowledge_, and there are pictures in it of\nthe different birds, beasts, and fishes which are mentioned.\n\nNow, let us think of some of the birds in the first group. Birds of Prey\nare those which hunt for their food, and eat the flesh of other birds,\nor of small animals, such as rats, and mice, or of snakes. All these\nbirds--vultures, hawks, owls--have sharp hooked beaks, and long claws, also\nvery sharp; they fly quickly, and soon overtake their prey, whether they\nhunt by day or by night.\n\nThe two birds of prey most often mentioned in the Bible are the Raven and\nthe Eagle. You remember how, when the terrible flood, which God sent upon\nthe earth because of the violence and wickedness of men, was over, and the\nArk rested upon the mountains of Ararat, Noah opened the window of the Ark,\nand sent forth a raven. This bird of prey could find food for itself, as it\n\"went forth to and fro, until the waters were dried up from off the earth,\"\nand it never came back to Noah; unlike the gentle dove who found no rest\nfor the sole of her foot, but twice returned to her refuge, the second time\ncarrying in her bill the fresh green \"olive-leaf plucked off,\" which showed\nNoah that the waters were indeed gone. How wonderfully God, who feeds the\nyoung ravens which cry to Him, used those birds of prey to bring to Elijah\n\"bread and flesh in the morning, and bread and flesh in the evening,\"\nall the time that they were commanded to feed the prophet in his lonely\nhiding-place by the brook Cherith. The Raven is the patriarch among birds;\nit lives to be a hundred years old--beyond the age of man!\n\nThe Eagle, the king of birds, is a large and beautiful creature with very\nstrong wings, and has its home in rocky places, difficult to reach. Like\nall birds who live upon prey which they catch alive, it is bold and fierce.\nThere is a verse which speaks of it as \"hasting to the prey.\" Eagles seize\nrabbits, hares, lambs, and young deer, and have even been known to attack\na pony. They often carry off ducks and wild birds to their rocky eyrie, as\nfood for their young ones. The Sea-eagle lives upon fish which swim near\nthe surface of the waves; it sees them afar off with its keen eyes, and\ndarts down upon them.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE OWL WILL BUILD BESIDE A BARN, OR IN A HOLLOW TREE.\"]\n\nMost likely you remember the story of the Highland mother, whose baby was\ncarried away by a great eagle, and how she climbed the steep rocks until\nshe reached its nest, and rescued her child. Her strong mother-love took\naway all fear of the dreadful height which even a young sailor feared to\nclimb, and of the wild birds who flapped their great wings at her, and then\nfled screaming away; but I need not say more of this Scotch story, which\nyou may have so often heard, so I will tell you of what happened once in\nSwitzerland to a little girl about five years old.\n\nShe was playing near her mountain home, when a great eagle saw her, darted\ndown, and was just catching her curly little head in its strong talons,\nwhen a man with a gun, not far off, fired. He had been watching the eagle,\nbut did not see the child, or he would have been afraid to fire, lest he\nshould kill her. When he came to pick up the dead bird he found the little\ngirl beside it. She had been saved by the shot which killed the fierce\neagle; but I have heard that when she had grown to be a woman the scars of\ndeep wounds made by its talons upon her head could still be seen. No doubt\nshe often heard the story of how God had saved her from a double danger,\nand by-and-by she felt that she must ask Him to make her His servant all\nher life long, God heard her prayer, and allowed her to go as a missionary\nto a far-off land.\n\nThere is a beautiful verse in the thirty-second chapter of Deuteronomy, in\nwhich God compares His care for His people to the way in which the eagle\ncares for its young ones, and teaches them to fly.\n\nI do not know whether you know many of the second group, the\nPerching-birds; but I am sure you have seen parrots, and heard them too.\nThese clever, gay birds must look beautiful indeed in their forest home\nin tropical countries, as they flash and gleam in the sunshine; but their\nscreaming--you know what it is like if you have ever paid them a visit\nat the Zoo--takes something away from their charm. They have been called\n\"feathered monkeys,\" because they are so well able to climb trees. Look at\ntheir dark grey toes, and you will see that two of them are turned forward\nand two backward, so as to enable them to take a firm hold upon branch or\ntwig. They have such hard bills because they live upon nuts and seeds. You\nhave seen how Polly holds a nut, and shells it with the sharp point of her\nbeak, keeping her eye on you all the time.\n\n[Illustration: \"FEATHERED MONKEYS.\"]\n\nPerhaps you would not think it, but parrots are affectionate birds. A story\nis told of one that was very fond of a servant girl in the house where he\nlived. When she had a bad finger he would not leave her, and groaned as he\nsat beside her bed, as if he were himself in pain; and when she recovered\nhe became quite cheerful again. But I think the account which Dr. Franklin\ngives of the kindness of a parrot to its mate is more interesting still.\n\nHe says he knew two parrots who had lived together four years, when the\nfemale became so ill from gout that she could not get down from her perch\nto reach her food. For four months the male bird went on carrying the\nfood to her in his beak; and when at last she fell from her perch through\nweakness, he kept constantly near her, trying to raise her, and showing the\ngreatest care for her.\n\nWhen she could no longer eat, he tried in vain to open her beak, so as to\ngive her food, uttering sad cries; or stood with his eyes fixed on her,\nmournful and silent. From the time of her death he pined away, and died a\nfew weeks afterwards.\n\nSuch stories are very beautiful, because they show, as a lover of animals\nonce said, \"what kindness God has put into the heart of His creatures.\"\n\nOf the Scratching birds, there is none which you know so well as the hen;\nindeed this group is often called by a Latin name, which means that all\nbelonging to it are of the hen tribe.\n\nOur fowls come from India, but they have been at home in this country for\na long time, and are very common in Palestine. If you have ever seen a\nmother-hen taking care of her chicks, calling them to her when she fears\nany danger for them, and hiding them beneath her soft warm wings, you will\nbetter understand the words which the Lord Jesus spoke when He beheld\nJerusalem, the beloved city, and wept over it. Think of these words when\nyou hear the hen call her chickens, and see them all come running to her,\nand hiding away under her wings, to be kept in safety from some foe which\n_you_ cannot see, but which _she_ knows to be lurking near, or perhaps\nhovering above, ready to pounce upon a stray chick and carry it off.\n\n[Illustration: HARK!]\n\nYou may often see the Turkeys, Pheasants, Peacocks, and other birds of\nthis Hen-family, scratching up the gravel; and you know, I daresay, that\ngrain-eating birds have a little mill inside them called a gizzard, which\ngrinds their food for them. Birds of prey have no gizzards, because their\nfood does not need to be ground before they can digest it.\n\nThe Wading-birds have long bare legs because they live in marshy places,\nand long necks and beaks to catch the small animals upon which they feed.\nSnipe and Woodcock have long tapering bills which are alive to the very\npoints with what are called nerves, so that they may be able to feel for\nworms as they dig for them in the soft sand and mud, where they cannot see\nthem. Two birds of this family, the Stork and the Crane, are mentioned in\nthe Bible in connection with a wonderful power which God has given to some\nbirds, by means of which they know when the time is come for them to leave\na country where their food is over and gone, and where the winter is too\ncold for them, for a warmer land, where they may find food convenient for\nthem, and from which they will know right well how to come back again when\nspring returns, with its food and foliage. Such birds are called birds of\npassage; the Swallow is the one you know best, and it also is mentioned in\nthe verse in which so many migratory birds are grouped together, \"The stork\nin the heaven knoweth her appointed times; and the turtle and the crane and\nthe swallow observe the time of their coming.\" It is God who bids these\nbirds \"observe the time of their coming\": no one knows why they go south\nfor the winter, nor how they can tell their way over land and sea, and come\nback again to the very place from whence they took their flight.\n\nThe Stork must be to the People in Palestine just such a \"guest of summer\"\nas the swallow is with us, for it regularly arrives about the end of March,\nand flies away in the autumn.\n\nShips make their long voyages to the other end of the world and back with\nwonderful regularity, but though the helmsman has a compass to guide him,\nthey do not arrive in port so exactly at their appointed time as the little\nswallow, who has only the sense which we call \"instinct\" to guide it; only\nits own light, strong wings to carry it on its swift way, flying a mile a\nminute--for even to its little bones and feathers, every part of its body\nis filled with air, rendering it the most buoyant of winged creatures.\n\nI met with a beautiful passage about migratory birds in a book I was\nreading lately. The writer says, \"Were they planets revolving round the\nsun, their arrival could hardly be more accurately calculated by the\nastronomer.... The little birds are guided in their flight through the\nwaste, lone wilderness of the sky, and over wide seas, without a compass\nor a map or a path, by His counsel and will. And they obey that guidance\nwithout the slightest inclination to swerve from it or seek a way of their\nown....\n\n\"Migratory birds passing from Africa to Europe over the sea, often alight\non ships bound in that direction. Not unfrequently ship-captains tell us\nthat they have seen birds of prey, hawks, and owls, appearing on the masts\non such occasions in the company of swallows, goldfinches, and chaffinches;\nand yet the cruel birds never touched the innocent ones. The migratory\ninstinct seems to subdue for a season the predatory instinct.\"\n\nI want to tell you more about swallows, and especially a true but sad\nstory of a tame one; but first we will speak of one more group, the\nSwimming-birds. You may have often noticed a duck's foot, and seen how the\n\"web,\" or skin between the toes, can be folded up like a fan; or spread\nout, when the bird is swimming; Geese, Swans, Sea-gulls, the beautiful\ngreat Albatross, all these and a great many more of this family; they have\na kind of water-wing, which cleaves its way through the streams, and most\nof them can also fly, although they are heavy birds. I have seen a flock of\ngrey geese sailing on the sea, and the same flock at sunset coming home by\na quicker way, looking like dark specks against the evening sky; but it is\nonly wild geese that will fly so far.\n\nNow then, we have had five groups. Let us count them. Birds of Prey,\nPerching birds, Scratching birds, Wading birds, Swimming birds, and I think\nI must add one more; for the Passerine, or Sparrow group includes most\nof the small birds, such as blackbirds and thrushes, nightingales and\nswallows, larks and magpies, linnets and humming-birds, and I cannot tell\nhow many more \"feathered fowl.\"\n\n[Illustration: FISHING.]\n\nOur story of a tame swallow must follow. There are four kinds of\nswallows--the Swift, the Chimney-swallow, the House-martin, and the\nSand-martin; they all look much alike when on the wing, but there are\ndifferences, especially in the sort of nest which they build. The\nhouse-martin makes its nest of mud, lined with grass or feathers, against\nthe side of a house, and there lays its beautiful white eggs.\n\nA pair of martins built their cosy nest one summer beneath the eaves of\na house in the country, just under the window of one of the bedrooms.\nSwallows rear two broods every season, and one brood was reared\nsuccessfully in this nest, but the second was not so fortunate. Late in\nSeptember--and you know the swallows are off to Africa in October--a\nservant found a poor little shivering bird on the steps. It was plain that\nit had tried to fly from the nest, with its brothers and sisters, but had\nnot been strong enough. The poor birdie seemed almost dead when it was\npicked up, but in the family there was a lady who loved \"all things both\ngreat and small,\" and she fed the tiny martin, and made a bed for it in a\nwork basket lined with wool. She was delighted when she saw it tuck its\nhead under its wing, puff out its little feathers, and settle itself to\nsleep in her basket as cosily as if it had been at home in its parents'\nnest, and she began to think that she might be able to keep this little\ndeserted bird in an English home while all the other swallows had gone over\nsea for the winter.\n\nI need not tell you that the little martin gave plenty of trouble and\nanxiety in his rearing; but at last he got on so well that he was allowed\nto go out in the garden, and sit upon his mistress's hand, while he feasted\non any spider, gnat, or fly which was caught for him. It must have been a\npretty sight to see the fondness of this pet bird for the kind friend who\nhad saved its life. He could not bear to be away from her, but would sit on\nher shoulder while she was at work or writing, and sometimes nestle under\nher chin; tiresome enough in his tricksy ways of pulling at her thread and\nsnatching at her paper, but still always borne with, because he was such a\npet.\n\nOne day when his mistress was going out for a long walk, and intended to\nleave her bird behind, he insisted on going too. And go he did, perched\nupon her finger; but on the way he became so clamorously hungry that she\nhad to take him into a butcher's shop, and get some meat for his dinner.\n\nShe often wondered how long he would stay with her. The swallows had not\nyet gone; and sometimes he would look up and see crowds of them skimming\nthrough the air, and darting about overhead. He would watch them, even call\nto them and answer their wild cry, then sweep round the room in imitation\nof their rapid flight; but always came back again to his old place on her\nshoulder. At last, while there were still flies to be caught; be became\nso grown up as to begin to catch them for himself, though he had had no\nparent-bird to teach him; but still he was a tame swallow, liking to have\nhis head stroked, and enjoying his morning bath like any canary.\n\nAfter all the wild swallows were off to Africa, the little tame martin\nbegan to feel the cold. This wax what his mistress had been afraid would\nhappen, and she tried in every way to keep her pet warm. She wrapped him in\nfur, and used to pack him warmly in a little box and take him to bed with\nher; but she was soon awakened by his creeping out of the box, and nestling\nunder her chin. At sunrise he would career round and round her room, then\nfly downstairs and begin to make himself very much at home at breakfast,\npecking at the butter, and standing upon the edges of the cups; but never\nso busy as not to dart to his mistress at the sound of her voice. Indeed he\nwas so unhappy when away from her that she used even to take him railway\njourneys, because she did not like to leave him behind. This way of\ntravelling, however, did not suit the little passenger-bird, for he was\nalways in a fright, and glad to get home again. But many a country walk he\ntook with his mistress, perched on her shoulder or her wrist, much to the\nwonder of the country-folk, who used to crowd around and ask questions\nabout such a rare bird as a tame swallow. Sometimes they would shake their\nheads and say, \"Well, well; did ever anyone see the like? I'll never shoot\nanother swallow.\"\n\nAs the winter came, all these pleasant walks were over. The poor birdie\nbegan to droop; it was impossible to keep him warm, though he often crept\nunder the parlour fender, to get as close to the fire as possible; and in\nspite of all that loving care could do, before the end of the year his\nbright little life had been lived, and all his clever tricks, and airy\nflights and loving ways were over.\n\nThe lady missed her pet sorely; and next summer when the low twittering of\nthe swallows was heard again, as they came back to their old home to build\nonce more, she watched them at their work with many a thought of her lost\nbirdie.\n\nThis is why I said it was a sad story; but we must not forget that the lady\nreally saved the life of the poor bird, when it had fallen from the nest.\nIf she had stolen it away from its parents, and tried to keep it in our\ncold country when they had gone to Africa, she would have blamed herself,\nand felt that she had been the cause of its death. It is cruel to take\nyoung birds from the nest, for it is a great grief to the parent-birds to\nlose their little ones; and it is so difficult to rear them, that they are\nalmost sure to die, in spite of the great care you take of them. Some boys\nare fond of collecting birds' eggs, and know a great deal about them. A\ncollection of eggs--of all sizes and of all shades of colour, from pure\nwhite to bluish green, or speckled grey--is a pretty sight; but if you go\nnesting, be careful not to spoil the beautiful little cradle which the\nparent-birds have made with such labour and care. And if you take one, or\neven two, eggs for your collection, be sure not to touch the others, or\nit may be that the birds will desert them. I well remember the delight of\nfinding a robin's nest when I was a child; but my brothers and I were not\nallowed to touch the eggs. We were told they did not belong to us, and this\ncertainly was nothing more than the truth.\n\nIt is beautiful to see God's care for all His creatures, especially the\nhelpless ones. When He was teaching His chosen people in the olden times\nabout things which are pleasing or displeasing to Him, He told them a good\ndeal about how they were to treat the animals. You would hardly expect to\nfind anything in the Bible about bird-nesting; and perhaps you might think\nthat if a boy found a nest with eggs or young birds in it, he might take\nthe young ones or the eggs, and if he chose he might take the mother-bird\nalso.\n\nBut God said--\n\n\"Thou shalt not take the dam with the young: thou shalt in anywise let the\ndam go, and mayest take the young to thee, that it may be well with thee.\"\n\nHe who cares for the sparrow would not allow the mother-bird to suffer by\nperhaps seeing her little ones die while she was shut up in a cage, too\nfluttered and frightened to help them; and He would teach us to be merciful\nand tender-hearted towards those who cannot defend themselves or plead\ntheir own cause, \"even as our Father in heaven is merciful.\"\n\nI should like you to read in some nice book all about birds, a great deal\nabout their ways, and especially about the clever nests they build, of\nwhich I have not time to tell you now. Also, I should like you to find\nout all you can for yourself. You may at least learn to know by sight and\nby sound some of our own songsters. It is often said that English birds\nhave sober plumage; and so they have, compared with the parrots and the\nhumming-birds that \"flit about like living fires, scarce larger than a\nbee,\" and the wonderful bird of paradise, which the natives of New Guinea\ncall \"God's bird,\" because it shines with silver and gold--but still we\nhave some very gay birds.\n\nIt is true that the goldfinch and the kingfisher are not often seen except\nin picture-books; but our own little robin is a real beauty, is he not? And\nwhat can be gayer than the feathers of some of our cocks, which strut about\nso proudly? Then, the more you notice the songs of birds, the more you will\nadmire them. The sweet notes begin before daylight in the spring-time, and\nthe cock-bird seems never tired of singing to his mate as she sits on her\neggs. By and by, when they are busy with family cares, feeding the little\nones, and teaching them to fly, there is not much time for singing. It is\nsaid that every bird has a different note or call. I wonder how many you\nknow? I fancy I can guess: the cock, the rook, the swallow, the thrush, the\nblackbird, the lark; if you do not know the notes or calls of all these,\ntry to learn them.\n\nThen, with regard to the nests; have you not seen rooks and cranes carrying\nin their mouths the twigs with which they build theirs in the top of very\nhigh trees? And have you not watched these nests swinging about in the\nwind, and wondered that they did not fall? Some of our birds build in holes\nof trees, some line their nests beautifully with any soft thing they can\nfind; blackbirds and thrushes make theirs of mud. But instead of describing\nhow the nests of our English birds are made, I will copy for you, out of\nLeslie's poetry-book, a little poem, which will help you to know where to\nsearch for the nests of different birds:--\n\n  \"The skylark's nest among the grass\n    And waving corn is found;\n  The robin's in a shady bank,\n    With oak-leaves strewed around.\n\n  \"The wren builds in an ivied thorn\n    Or old and ruined wall,\n  The mossy nest so covered in\n    You scarce can see at all.\n\n  \"The martins build their nests of clay\n    In rows beneath the eaves;\n  The silvery lichens, moss, and hair\n    The chaffinch interweaves.\n\n  \"The cuckoo makes no nest at all,\n    But through the wood she strays.\n  Until she finds one snug and warm,\n    And there her eggs she lays.\n\n  \"The sparrow has a nest of hay,\n    With feathers warmly lined;\n  The ringdove's careless nest of sticks\n    On lofty trees we find.\n\n  \"Rooks build together in a wood,\n    And often disagree;\n  The owl will build beside a barn,\n    Or in a hollow tree.\n\n  \"The blackbird's nest of grass and mud\n    On bush and bank is found;\n  The lapwing's darkly-spotted eggs\n    Are laid upon the ground.\n\n  \"The magpie's nest is made with thorns,\n    In leafless tree or hedge;\n  The wild duck and the water hen\n    Build by the water's edge.\n\n  \"Birds build their nests from year to year,\n    According to their kind;\n  Some very neat and beautiful,\n    Some simpler ones we find.\n\n  \"The habits of each little bird,\n    And all its patient skill,\n  Are surely taught by God Himself,\n    And ordered by His will.\"\n\nThe other day I saw a lark's nest. It was made upon the ground; for it is\ntrue that\n\n  \"The bird which soars on highest wing,\n  Builds on the ground her lowly nest.\"\n\nand I had to move aside the grass before I could see it. The parent-birds,\nI daresay, were somewhere near, but I found only the little ones, looking\nas if they were almost all mouth, so widely did they open their yellow\nbeaks. If you find such a treasure, and are very careful not to touch, or\neven to peer and peep too much, you may have the great interest of watching\nover the rearing of the little family; seeing the parents bring them food,\nand teach them to fly; and then, when the brood has flown, the deserted\nnest will belong to you, if you choose to keep it; but I am afraid you\nwould not care for a lark's nest, for it is not beautifully finished, as\nsome birds' nests are, but really only the dry-grass lining of a hole in\nthe ground. The eggs are brown, like the bird itself, which is so beautiful\nin its song--that lovely song which you can hear even when you can hardly\nsee the tiny singer.\n\n  \"Far in the downy cloud,\"\n\nor but a speck in the deep blue; for the lark will\n\n  \"Soar up and up, quivering for very joy,\"\n\nsinging all the time, till he is out of sight--yet never forget that low\nspot, hidden with grass, where his nest is.\n\nYou know why it is said that \"the cuckoo builds no nest at all,\" don't you?\nMay has a verse which calls him \"a most conceited bird,\" because from the\ntime when he comes back from Africa we hear him constantly calling his own\nname, 'coo-coo, coo-coo!' Still, I don't think the cuckoo should be called\n\"conceited\" when it is we who have given it its name from the call which\nis natural to it; but it is a most unfaithful bird, and leaves its little\nones to be brought up by others, not taking the trouble to build a cradle\nfor them, nor will the mother sit upon her eggs. I used to think the\nreason why we saw so few cuckoos was because this bird laid only one egg;\nbut I have read that she lays eight, each one in the nest of some bird\nmuch smaller than herself. The cuckoo is grey, and about the size of a\nblackbird; but her eggs are small, not bigger than a hedge-sparrow's or a\nlark's. She lays her egg on the ground, and then lifts it with her bill\ninto the nest which she has chosen. The stranger bird is hatched first, and\nalways behaves as if the whole nest belonged to him. He grows bigger and\nbigger, until at last he throws the little sparrows over the side of the\nnest to make room for himself. When the \"woolly bears \"--the caterpillars\non which they feed--are all gone the cuckoos fly off to find them in South\nAfrica.\n\nHow different from this bird is the faithful dove, who would not desert her\nlittle one, even to save her own life! I must tell you the story of the\nparticular dove of which I am thinking.\n\nWhen the famous city of Pompeii--which had lain for eighteen hundred years\nburied beneath the ashes and mud which fell upon it during a terrible\neruption of Mount Vesuvius--was brought to light again, as the workmen were\ndigging among the ruins of what had been a beautiful house, in a niche\noverlooking the garden they found the skeleton of a dove. They were not\nsurprised that, as the sky grew darker and darker upon that dreadful day,\nand the soft, choking shower of ashes fell more thickly, many of those who\nran for their lives should have lost their way in the darkness, and fallen\nto rise no mare. The skeletons of men and women had been found, just as\nthey had fallen while trying to escape; but this dove, with her swift\nwings, why did she not flee away? Ah, as they lifted her from her nest\nthe secret was revealed: beneath her lay the egg which the timid, gentle\ncreature, so brave in her love and faithfulness, would not leave.\n\nIf you ask me about fossil-birds, I must tell you that very few have been\nfound. However, if you go to the British Museum, look out for a large stone\nslab covered with footprints of birds. It was taken from a quarry in an\nAmerican valley, and is a piece of sandstone, which was once soft enough\nto receive the impress of the feet of the giant wading-bird, probably much\nlarger than an ostrich, which once walked across it with long strides. You\nwill also trace upon it the tracks of smaller birds. In New Zealand very\nlarge bones of an extinct bird have been found, but the most remarkable\nremains have been discovered in Germany of a bird which has been given the\nname of \"Lizard-tailed,\" because it has a tail with vertebr\u00e6, from each\njoint of which feathers spring. Three claws are attached to the ends of the\nwing-bones, like the single claw of the bat. What is left of this specimen,\nwhich is thought to have been about the size of a rook, is to be seen in\nthe Natural History branch of the South Kensington Museum. I mention this\nin case you should have a chance of visiting it there.\n\nAnd now, to speak of those birds which we know best, I think there are\nnone which seem to belong to us so much as these three--the thrush, the\nblackbird, and the robin; for they are with us all the year. The thrush\nbegins to sing very early, before there are any leaves for him to hide\nhimself among, while the robin's song is heard not only in autumn, but in\nwinter when all others are silent. All these birds feed upon worms and\ninsects, not on grain and fruit like the larks and finches and starlings;\nbut they are very glad of berries in winter when they can get them.\n\nThe other day I met a little boy about seven years old carrying a basket\nwith some dozen snails in the bottom of it, and looking as if he had found\na wonderful prize.\n\n\"What are you going to do with them?\" I said.\n\n\"Give them to our thrush. He cracks the shells and eats them, he does.\"\n\n\"Does your thrush sing?\" I asked.\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" he replied. \"You can hear him all over the house.\"\n\nThe song of even a captive thrush is sweet indeed; but I would rather hear\nits voice in a choir of birds singing in the woods.\n\nThe blackbird's clear note, like the thrush's, may be heard very early in\nthe morning, and on still evenings, as it \"sings darkling\" in some leafy\nbower. Its eggs are bluish green, with dark spots, while the thrush's five\neggs are light blue. There are white blackbirds--if such a thing can be--in\nthe Alps, and occasionally in this country; with us you may know the cock\nby its being very black, while the hen is brownish-black, and I think both\nbirds are best known by the \"orange tawny\" bill. But neither the blackbird\nnor the thrush is so pretty as the \"little bird with bosom red\" of which we\nare all so fond.\n\n  \"Our thrushes now are silent,\n    Our swallows flown away;\n  But robin's here in coat of brown,\n    And scarlet breast-knot gay.\"\n\nSome time ago I was reading the account which a boy, who had always lived\nin town, gave of his first sight of a robin-redbreast. His master told him\nto write for his composition all about a holiday which the boys had had\ngiven them, so he gave an account of how he had gone for a long day in\nthe country with his father and his little sister. Of all the sights he\nsaw that day, none delighted him so much as to see a robin perched upon a\nclothes'-prop in a garden--for this bird always likes a high perch--singing\nwith all his might and \"showing all his red.\" This boy had read about\nrobins at school, and learnt verses about them; but when he actually\nsaw one, and heard it sing, he says it made him \"tremble all over with\npleasure.\"\n\nA lady, who has told many interesting stories about what she has herself\nobserved, says that one day her gardener was struck by the strange conduct\nof a robin, which the man had often fed. \"The bird fluttered about him in\nso strange a manner, now coming close, then hurrying away, always in the\nsame direction, that the gardener followed, its retreating movements. The\nrobin stopped near a flowerpot and fluttered over it in great agitation.\nIt was soon found that a nest had been formed in the pot, and contained\nseveral young. Close by was a snake, intent, doubtless, upon making a meal\nof the brood.\"\n\nThis little story seems to show that the redbreast understood that the man\nwho had been so kind was not only good enough but also strong enough to\nsave his little ones from the danger which threatened them. Can you learn\nany lesson from it?\n\nI have not time to tell you of all the feathered creatures mentioned in\nthe Bible, which were found and written down for me in those nice little\nthree-cornered notes, some of which I still have. You will not be surprised\nto hear that each contained one reference, and some many more; but the text\nabout which we had most talk was found by Chris--those words spoken by the\nLord to His disciples to show how precious they were to their Father: \"Fear\nnot therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows\"\n\nThe boys wanted to know whether these birds were the same as our sparrows,\nwhich are so common everywhere, even in the busy streets London, and so\nmischievous in the country, eating the grain, and stealing the peas, and\nnipping off the young buds of the gooseberry-bushes.\n\n[Illustration: Our little English Robin;\n               The bird that comes about our doors\n               When winter's winds are sobbing.]\n\nI could not answer this question; so we got the Bible Dictionary and read\nthere that a great many of our smaller birds, such as the starling, linnet,\ngoldfinch, blackbird, lark, wagtail, and thrush, are found in Palestine,\nand that the Tree-sparrow has been seen in great numbers on Mount Olivet;\nwhile another kind, the Rock-sparrow, is often found perched upon a large\nstone, all alone, like the solitary bird mentioned in the hundred and\nsecond Psalm.\n\nOne, of whose work among the poor of Lancashire you may some day hear,\ntells us that when he was on a visit to America in 1873, he strolled one\nmorning round a miniature park in New York, glad to find shelter from the\nhot beams of the sun. Looking up, he saw a great many boxes fastened,\nsome to the stems, some to the branches of the trees. Surprised at this,\nhe asked a gentleman on one of the seats, \"What is the meaning of those\nboxes suspended up there?\" and he was told that twelve years before, not\na single leaf was to be found upon any of those trees, now so full of\nbeautiful foliage. At that time, a small grub called the inch-worm had the\ndisagreeable habit of breeding in the bark, climbing up the boughs and\nstripping them of every leaf. Thus it was in the orchards, gardens, and\nparks in many States of the Union.\n\nAt length a thinking man who kept his eyes open, suggested a remedy--to\nimport several thousands of English sparrows, providing them with little\nwooden houses, and feeding them daily until they were settled in, and\ncontented with their new home. Thousands of beautiful little boxes were\nvolunteered and fixed in the trees, and thousands of young sparrows\nwere brought over. A State law was passed inflicting a penalty of one\ndollar--nearly five shillings--or a week's imprisonment, on any person who\nkilled one; and most happy was the result. The inch-worm was destroyed, the\ntrees became healthy and green, and now the spirited little English birds\nhop and chirp in every garden and park in the Union!\n\n[Illustration: \"ONLY A LITTLE SPARROW.\"]\n\nA restless little House-sparrow would seem an unlikely bird to become tame,\nbut I have heard of one which was rescued, having fallen from his nest, and\nlived for two years on the happiest terms with his master, who says of his\npet bird; \"He was only confined to his cage during the morning: from midday\nuntil the next morning he was free to go about the house, but was of course\nmostly kept to one room. He always slept at the foot of my bed, and as soon\nas it was daylight he would come up and creep into my arms, and nestle\nthere till I rose.... I fed him on seed and sand, but he had food with me\nbesides, such as a little potato at dinner-time, and bread and butter at\ntea-time.\"\n\nDoes this account of a tame sparrow encourage you to try to attach one\nof these little birds to yourself? I am afraid it would not be possible\nunless, as in the case of this birdie, it was one taken from the nest.\n\nThe poem about birds' nests tells only of those made by our home-birds, but\nwe can read of wonderful nests made by those in foreign countries. Perhaps\nthe most clever nest-builder is a tiny Indian bird, called the \"Tailor,\"\nbecause it actually sews leaves together, using both its bill and its\nfeet, to make a safe hiding-place for its eggs, no bigger than peas, where\nneither snake nor monkey shall find them. It first chooses a plant with\nlarge leaves, then sews a dead leaf to the side of the green and living\none, and in the space between the two, it lays its tiny eggs. It gathers\ncotton from a shrub, and with its long bill and slender little feet works\naway until it has spun a thread; then, using its bill for a needle, it\npierces holes through the leaves, and sews them securely together. Should\nyou not like to see such a wonderful nest, and still more to watch the\nlittle tailor--more like a bee than a bird in size--at his work?\n\n[Illustration: TAILOR-BIRD'S NEST]\n\nI will tell you of one more nest; it is of a very different kind, and is\nmade by a swallow which lives in the islands east of Asia, and is generally\ncalled the Java swallow. The other day I was reading how one of our princes\nwas entertained in China, and among the dishes on the table \"birds'-nest\nsoup\" was mentioned. It made me think of how, long ago (when, as I told\nyou, I was so foolish as not to like to ask questions, for fear the\ngrown-up people should think I knew nothing at all), I heard of this kind\nof soup, and thought how disagreeable it must be to meet with bits of hay\nand moss in one's soup, and what queer people the Chinese must be not to\nmind it. Now I know that these nests, which are sold in China for their\nweight in silver, are made of a clear jelly which comes from the swallow's\nmouth. The nests are built against the sides of rocky cliffs, so that it\nis very dangerous work to procure them. I do not know whether the Duke and\nDuchess of Connaught liked the soup, but it was offered them as a very\ngreat delicacy.\n\nChrissie and his brothers have a canary, and a very loud singer he is. No\ndoubt he was born in England. but his family are foreigners, as you know,\nand come from Madeira and the Cape Verde and Canary Islands. But if, as I\nhave heard, they were brought to this country so long ago as the time of\nQueen Elizabeth, we cannot be surprised that they are so much at home with\nus now, and will lay their pale blue eggs, and hatch their yellow broods,\nand live even thirty years in their pretty cages, in which they certainly\nseem to be as happy as the days are long. I hope if you have a canary\nof your own, you are very careful to give it its seed and water quite\nregularly, and to keep its little house as clean as a new pin; for how sad\nit would be to neglect the happy little creature who is entirely dependent\nupon you for everything!\n\nI once knew a little girl who had a present of a canary when she was seven\nyears old. I think she was realty too young to have the care of a bird, but\nshe was very, very fond of her Dick, and used to bring him home groundsel\nand chickweed when she went out for a walk, and often had the pleasure of\nstanding upon a high chair and putting a lump of sugar between the bars of\nthe cage as a special treat for her pet.\n\nAll went well until one morning, when she opened the cage door and saw,\ninstead of the pretty, pecking, chirping birdie hopping from his perch to\ngreet her, just a soft yellow ball of feathers lying at the bottom of the\ncage. Ah, the sad story was soon told--her pet had been starved to death,\nand she had been the cause! This was what nurse told her, when she ran\nsobbing to her with the poor dead bird in her little hand. \"It is very\ncruel of you,\" she said; \"you just went to your play, and forgot all about\nyour poor little Dick, and now he is dead; you will never hear him sing his\nsweet song again.\"\n\nThe poor child was too sorry and too frightened to say anything, and yet\nin her heart she knew she had not forgotten her birdie; she was quite sure\nthat she had filled his glass with seed and given him fresh water, only the\nday before. This was quite true; but I will tell you what she had done, and\nthen you will see why I said I thought she was too young to have the entire\ncharge of any living creature. After filling the glass with seed, she had\nput it back again, as she thought, into its place, where there was a round\nopening for the bird to come and peck at the seeds. But she had turned the\nglass round, so that the back of it was towards this hole, and the open\npart right away from her poor Dick, who might peck and peck against the\nhard glass, but could not get one seed. I think if nurse had known just\nhow it all happened, she would not have said this little girl was cruel\nfor neglecting her bird; but she was a very careless child, and this\nthoughtless act cost her pet his life, and his mistress many a bitter tear.\n\nNow for one more true story, and then we must finish our chapter about\n\"feathered fowl.\" You remember the little girl who was so nearly carried\noff by a great eagle; this story is about a man whose life was saved by an\nenormous sea-bird, whose wings when spread out measure about twelve feet\nacross. It is called the \"Wandering Albatross,\" and often follow ships in\nthe southern seas a long way, looking very beautiful and majestic as it\nseems to float in the air. One of these huge birds had been following a\nship on board of which was a regiment of soldiers, on their way home to\nEngland. Among them was one man, who, though he seemed to care for nobody,\nand always laughed at those who read the Bible, was very, very unhappy.\nGod's word says that there is no peace to the wicked, and this poor man\nnever had any rest or comfort, and was constantly disobeying the officers\nand getting into disgrace. He had no fear of God, and so one morning, when\nno one was near him, he suddenly jumped over the ship's side into the sea,\nthinking that he would put an end to his life and his misery.\n\nBut just as he sank beneath the waters, God put it into the heart of this\npoor sinner against his own soul, to cry to Him for mercy; and then in a\nmoment, in His great kindness, He sent the answer to that despairing cry.\nThe great albatross, always ready to pick up anything which was thrown\noverboard by the sailors came sweeping by. The drowning man put up his hand\nand caught it by the leg, and such was the strength of the bird that it was\nable to bear his weight until a boat from the ship came and rescued him. I\ndo not think I should like to tell you this story, which has such a dark\nand sad beginning, but for its bright ending. It was a long time before\nthis poor soldier recovered; but when he was able to walk about the deck\nagain, all was changed for him. He knew that God had not only, in this\nremarkable way, saved him from drowning, but there was great peace in that\nheart which had been so full of trouble; for he had learned to know the\nLord Jesus Christ as the blessed Saviour who had loved him and given\nHimself for him--so I think this is really a very beautiful story.\n\nYou will find many of the Flying Fowl of which we have been speaking\nmentioned in this poem, which reminds us of how God cares for the wildest\nas well as the weakest of them all.\n\n\n\"WHO PROVIDED FOR THE RAVEN HIS FOOD?\n\n  \"All the world lay still and silent in the morning grey,\n  And at once a thousand voices hail the glorious day;\n  For the great Sun, glowing crimson, rises o'er the sea--\n  'Welcome Day!' they sing together, 'Day that is to be!'\n  Oh, how glad and sweet and joyous is that morning hymn!\n  Whilst the golden day is stealing through the valleys dim--\n  Thrush and blackbird, lark and linnet, doves that coo and hum\n  Wild delight and soft rejoicing, for the day is come.\n  Not a thought, of care or wonder what the day will bring,\n  For the Father careth for them in the smallest thing.\n  There upon the pathless mountains is their table spread,\n  All by God are known and numbered, by His hands are fed.\n  Some in deep and tangled forests where the berries glow,\n  Some, where children's crumbs are scattered on the garden snow,\n  Some where, through the river sedges, Mayflies glance and play,\n  Some where mountain tarns lie gleaming in the hollows grey.\n  For the wild and hungry eagle, for the wren so small,\n  All is ready--food and gladness, free to each and all.\"\n\nFRANCES BEVAN.\n\nTaken by permission, from _Hymns by Ter Steegen and others_. Second Series.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIFTH DAY.\n\nCREEPING THINGS.\n\n\n\"_His hand hath formed the crooked serpent._\"--JOB xxvi. 13.\n\n\"_The Lord thy God ... who led thee through that great and terrible\nwilderness, wherein were fiery serpents, and scorpions._\"--DEUTERONOMY\nviii. 15.\n\n\"_The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and the lion shall eat straw\nlike the bullock: and dust shall be the serpent's meat. They shall not hurt\nnor destroy in all My holy mountain, saith the Lord._\"--ISAIAH lxv. 25.\n\n\nThe \"_creeping things_\" which God caused the earth to bring forth on the\nFifth Day are so unlike each other in many respects that we might at first\nsight wonder that they should have been grouped together; but the more we\nstudy Reptiles--so called from the Latin word _reptilis_, creeping--the\nmore we see that there are many things which this great family of\nvertebrate animals have in common.\n\nThere are four chief divisions of the Reptile family--Tortoises and\nTurtles, Crocodiles, Lizards, and Snakes.\n\nMost reptiles have a tail and two pairs of limbs, but, as you know, Snakes\nare destitute of limbs, and seem to move along by a motion from inside, so\nthat they have been said to walk on their ribs. Serpents are covered with\nhorny scales; Crocodiles and Tortoises have a bony covering.\n\nThe Tortoise--so called from its twisted feet, or its crooked way of\nwalking--has, as you know, an upper and an under shell which covers its\nbody like a coat of mail, protecting it from every enemy except man. This\nstrong shell is, like that of the snail, a house for the tortoise to live\nin; but this house is formed by arched bones, and is part of the creature\nitself. The four feet of the tortoise or turtle, and a curious mouth rather\nlike the beak of a bird--without teeth, but with jaws hard enough to make\na bite from it very painful--and a little scaly tail; these are the only\nparts of the animal not covered by the shields of its bony shells.\n\nThe Lizard has both limbs and teeth, but no shell. Lizards are wonderfully\nactive, darting away at the least alarm, so that it is not easy to catch\nthem.\n\nWe may think of the Crocodile of the African, and the Alligator of the\nNorth American rivers, as enormous lizards; though they are now placed in a\nclass by themselves, on account of their horny covering, which is so strong\nthat it is almost impossible to pierce through it, and so smooth that a\nbullet will glance off from it. Serpents have neither shell nor limbs.\nTheir vertebr\u00e6, as you will see, if you look at any skeleton of a snake in\nthe Museum, fit very beautifully one into the other; and owing to this they\nare able to glide swiftly along the ground, to coil their shining length\nround trees, and to dart their heads in every direction.\n\nIn one respect Tortoises, Lizards, and Serpents are alike--they all lay\neggs, only the shell is not made of lime and earth, but is soft like\nleather. They are also cold-blooded animals, like fish. Of tortoises, some\nlive on land, some in marshy places, some in rivers; turtles live in the\nsea, their lungs being so made as to enable them to remain under water\nwithout breathing.\n\nThe common tortoise, often kept in gardens, is found in the south of\nEurope, and is generally not more than nine inches long. Its upper shield\nis exceedingly strong. My brothers and sisters and I used often to stand\nupon the back of a pet tortoise which lived in our garden; it did not seem\nto feel our weight, but I remember finding it no easy matter to keep my\nfeet together upon its smooth back, and none of us could perform this feat\nunless the tortoise was pleased to stand still while we balanced ourselves\nupon him. I can, in imagination, see this little tortoise of ours now, not\nlarger than a crab such as you see at the fishmonger's, with its short\nlegs and feet, and its little tail, all covered with scales, sticking out\nbetween its upper and under shells. How we used to laugh, when we saw him\ndraw in his head and feet under the shelter of the shell: the only sign he\ngave of being annoyed at all our pranks! We were told that our tortoise\nmight not die for a hundred years, and I have heard that some have been\nknown to live twice that time; it is a slow sort of life, but we must not\nforget that, in the poem about the Hare and the Tortoise, it was \"slow and\nsteady\" that won the race.\n\nI cannot remember that we ever gave our tortoise anything to eat; it must\nhave catered for itself in the garden where it was so fond of burrowing\nand hiding away, that we had many a hunt for it when it was supposed to be\nlost. Mr. Wood speaks of a small one which he used to feed with bread and\nmilk. He kept it, not in a garden, but in his own room, where its favourite\nplace was the rug: for it enjoyed the heat so much, that it made many\nattempts, with its short legs and heavy shell, to climb over the fender in\norder to get nearer to the fire. I don't remember that our tortoise ever\nmade any noise; but this one, shortly before it died, went about mewing\nlike a young kitten. Far from living to be a hundred, Mr. Wood's pet died\nso soon that he had no opportunity of seeing whether it would in time get\nto know him; but a story is told of a tortoise who did take a fancy to one\nperson, and, though he would attend to no one else, would come creeping\nalong at her call, and tap the boot of his favourite with his beak, in\ntoken, we may suppose, of his regard. One lady, who had a long-standing\nacquaintance with a tortoise, having fed him for thirty years, said he\nwould come to her, and to no one else; which looked rather like \"cupboard\nlove,\" you will say.\n\nYou may have often admired the tortoise-shell of which combs are made, with\nits beautiful wavy lines and markings; it is taken from the outside of the\nshell of the turtle or sea-tortoise, which is caught not only for the sake\nof its shell, but because its flesh is so good to eat. You may perhaps have\nseen, as I have, a small turtle at the door of a shop, and wondered where\nit came from, and what brought it there. You may be quite sure that it has\ncome a long way, and that the poor creature is soon to be made into soup.\nVery awkward it looks, poor thing; for its proper home is in the water, and\nnot on the hard pavement; its feet are rather like fins, so that it may be\nable to make its way rapidly through the water, and it only comes ashore\nto make its nest in the sand, where it scoops out a great hole with its\npaddle-like feet, and then covering its eggs over safely, leaves them for\nthe sun to hatch.\n\nI have heard that as many as two hundred eggs have been found in one of\nthese sand-nests; but not all laid by one turtle; for those who hunt for\nthe eggs have watched a crowd of animals come ashore, and have seen one\nof them dig a deep pit with its broad paws, lay its eggs, and cover them\nover; then another has done the same, until there have been several layers\nof eggs: such a nest is a lucky _find_; for turtle eggs are said to be\ndelicious food, though some I tasted were very \"strong\" and nasty.\n\n[Illustration: TURTLE.]\n\nThe turtles common in Jamaica, and other islands of the West and East\nIndies, are great creatures five or six feet long, but they are not\ndifficult to capture, for when once they have been turned over on their\nbacks, the shell is so heavy that they cannot, owing to the shortness of\ntheir legs, turn themselves back again, but lie helpless on the sand.\n\nOf Lizards, the second division of the Reptile group, I doubt if you have\nseen any, except in the Reptile-house at the \"Zoo\"; for although there are\ntwo kinds of these active little creatures in our country, they do not\noften court our society. The common lizard, about six inches long, with\nvery bright eyes, has a tail which is so brittle, that if you were to catch\nhold of it, it would break right off, and its late owner would dart away to\nits hiding-place, leaving the old tail in your hand; itself growing a new\none.\n\nThe Sand-lizard, also found in England, is about twice the length of the\ncommon lizard: it lives on sandy heaths, and like the turtle, lays its eggs\nin the sand, to be hatched by the sun. But neither of our lizards is so\npretty as the little green one so common in the warmer countries of Europe.\nIt may be seen on walls, or by the wayside, basking in the sunshine, and\nnow and then darting at a fly. The whole species are, like the butterflies,\nsummer creatures, and hide themselves safely underground before winter\ncomes.\n\nIn the Reptile-house of the Zoological Gardens, I have often stood to look\nat the largest kind of lizard; for the Crocodile, that huge animal with its\ngreen glaring eyes, and its armour made of bony plates with sharp ridges,\nis but an overgrown lizard. If you wish to form some idea of what it is\nmost like, you can look at one of the beautiful little newts which live in\nsome pond or ditch near you, and fancy it magnified many, many times, and\nthen you will not have a bad notion of the crocodile, the lizard of Africa,\nor of the Cayman or Alligator, the great lizard of the New World.\n\n[Illustration: CROCODILE.]\n\nThe word crocodile means a creature which dislikes saffron; so it would be\nof no use, I suppose, for us to offer that lazy-looking animal floating\nin his tank, looking as lifeless as the trunk of a tree, with his nose\nand a little ridge of his mail-clad back alone appearing above the water,\na saffron bun--to say nothing of his being a creature whose appearance\ndoes not seem to invite us to come to close quarters, or to hold any\ncommunication with him. But we have little idea of what these enormous\nreptiles are really like, when we see them so far away from their native\nhaunts. It is thought by some that the \"_leviathan_,\" spoken of in the\nbook of Job, whose \"teeth are terrible round about,\" is the crocodile; for\nits mouth is larger than that of any other animal, and is armed with very\nsharp teeth. Dr. Smith tells [Footnote: \"Nile,\" _Dictionary of the Bible_,\np. 621.] us that crocodiles were once so plentiful in the East, that the\ngreat river of Egypt swarmed with them, and the Egyptians, who made almost\neverything into a god, worshipped them and made mummies of them, as they\ndid of birds, cats, and snakes.\n\nI have often thought that when the mother of Moses long ago laid that child\nwho was \"fair to God\" in his bulrush cradle among the reeds by the river's\nbank, her heart must almost have failed her as she remembered the terrible\ncrocodiles; but she had faith in God, and He suffered no wild beast to\nmolest that little ark. The crocodile feeds upon fish, and any animals\nwhich he can catch, when they come to the banks of the Nile and other\nAfrican rivers to drink. Though it is clumsy in its movements on land, it\nmakes its way swiftly through the water by means of its tail; sometimes it\nopens its terrible jaws, gives a great yawn, and then shuts them again with\na sound which is heard far away. Mr. Arnot, a missionary in the heart of\nAfrica, tells us that the crocodiles in the great river Zambesi drag the\ngame which they catch under water, and so drown them, and then hide them\nunder the river's banks. He says, \"I used to watch these animals come up\nwith perhaps a quarter of an antelope, and by firing at their heads I\ncompelled them to drop their supper, Which my men picked up from their\nboats.\" The crocodiles' eggs are about the size of goose-eggs, and are said\nto be good to eat.\n\nHerodotus, the \"Father of History,\" tells a curious story about the\ncrocodile and the Nile bird. He says, \"When the crocodile takes his food in\nthe Nile, the interior of its mouth is always covered with flies. All birds\nwith one exception flee from the crocodile: but this one bird, the Nile\nbird, far from avoiding it, flies towards the reptile with the greatest\neagerness, and renders it a very essential service. Every time the\ncrocodile goes on shore to sleep, and at the moment when it lies extended,\nwith open jaws, the Nile bird enters the mouth of the terrible animal and\ndelivers it from the flies that it finds there. The crocodile shows its\nrecognition of the service by never harming the bird.\"\n\nI have heard that the flies which molest the crocodile are gnats, and their\ndevourer a kind of plover.\n\nNear Karachi, in India, there is a swamp caused by hot springs, which is\ninhabited by crocodiles. There are over two hundred in the tank, which has\nbeen walled in, as they are considered sacred creatures. Buffaloes stand\nin the water unharmed, but any other animal which came within reach would\nbe instantly devoured. A rash young Englishman once made the tour of this\ntank, alive with crocodiles, by walking on their horny backs!\n\nAlligator is only the Spanish name for all lizards, so called in allusion\nto their having legs like arms. The great American lizard, known by this\nname, is not so large as the crocodile; it loves heat, and will bury itself\nin the mud in cold weather. It feeds mostly upon fish, and will drive them\nbefore it in a shoal, until they have got into some creek or narrow bend\nof the river, and then stun them by blows of its great tail. Mr. Waterton,\nwho knew the South American rivers so well, tells us that he once came\nupon what he thought a pretty sight--a number of young alligators, about a\nfoot long, playing about on the sand like so many rabbits. He also tells\na story, which might have had a sad ending, saying [Footnote: _Life of\nCharles Waterton_, p.56] that when he was anxious to secure an alligator,\nwhich he much wished to stuff, with its tough skin uninjured, he would not\nallow his men to shoot at him, but actually jumped upon his horny back and\nrode him along the sandy river-bank until the poor creature was tired out,\nand the daring rider secured his prize. I daresay yon would like to see the\npicture which one of his friends made of him, riding upon his dangerous\nsteed.\n\nWe may form some idea of this naturalist's feat from what he tells us in\nanother part of his book about his \"wanderings.\" \"One Sunday afternoon,\"\nhe says, \"when a good many people were standing about on the banks of the\nOrinoco, never dreaming of danger, a great Cayman came suddenly out of the\nriver, seized a man, and carried him off beneath the water, so that he was\nseen no more.\"\n\nHow sad it would have been had Waterton shared a similar fate, in his\neffort to get the alligator's skin! Life is a precious gift from God, and\nno one has a right to risk his life in a rash foolhardiness, which is very\ndifferent from the true courage which does not shrink from facing danger if\nthe life of one more helpless than himself is in peril.\n\nBut while we know that no one has a right to give up his life unless at\nGod's desire, and that it is wicked in His sight for anyone to risk losing\nhis life unless at God's command, we must not forget that there is no risk\nfor those who count not their lives dear to them for Christ's sake. He\nspoke some solemn words about \"loving\" and \"hating\" life, which His\nservants should ever remember.\n\nYou will be interested to know that the alligators' eggs are laid in a\nnest made of grass on the banks of a stream, and that they often travel\nfor miles across forest or prairie from one stream to another. The nest\nis raised higher and higher by a fresh layer of grass, cut with the great\nwater-lizard's sharp teeth, every time more eggs are laid, until it is as\nhigh as a cock of hay. The eggs take a month to hatch; but as soon as the\nyoung alligators are out of the shell, they are quite able to run about and\nget their own living.\n\nA gentleman who was looking after some building in a lonely part of South\nAmerica,\n\n  \"Where on the mighty river banks,\n    La Platte and Amazon,\n  The Cayman, like an old tree trunk,\n    Lies basking in the sun.\"\n\ncaught a baby-alligator, and made it so tame that it would follow him about\nthe house like a dog.\n\nIt must have been a strange sight to see this little creature, born in a\nrushy swamp, scrambling upstairs after his master; but stranger still to\nsee him lying on the rug before the fire, with his head resting upon the\ncat, of whom he had become so fond that he was restless and uncomfortable\nwhen she was not near him.\n\nHe was fed on raw meat and milk, and was shut up in cold weather, like the\ntame swallow, in a box lined with wool; but, alas! one frosty night the\npoor little pet was forgotten, and next morning found him dead, killed by\nthe cold. How often we find that the stories of pet animals, especially\nwild ones which have been made unnaturally tame, have had a sad ending!\n\nThe Blind-worm, so called from its small eyes--and yet these tiny eyes are\nbrighter than some larger ones--is a kind of lizard without legs, and is,\non that account, sometimes included in the Snake-family. We may come upon\nit in hot weather, among the furze bushes upon the common, or the stones\nof some old ruin. It feeds upon a little grey slug, and is like the common\nlizard in being so brittle that you can hardly take hold of it without\nbreaking it.\n\nThere is one more lizard which I have seen next door to the crocodile tank\nat the Zoo: a very curious little animal, almost of the same colour as the\nstick along which it walks, so slowly and silently that you may stand and\nwatch it for some time without being sure that it is moving at all; though\nits eyes, which can move in different directions at the same moment, and\nits long thin tongue, so clever at catching the insects on which it feeds,\nare constantly in motion; but for its eyes and tongue, the Chameleon looks\nas if it were as dead as the withered branch to which it clings.\n\nThe name of this lizard means \"Ground-lion,\" but it is very unlike the king\nof beasts both in appearance and disposition. The chameleon is found in\nSpain, in Sicily, and in Syria; its home is in the branches of trees. Many\nstories used to be told of the way in which it would change colour, not\nexactly by blushing like a human creature, but by becoming green, yellow,\nand even black when angry or calm, or when in sunshine or shade; but\nnaturalists who have kept a careful watch upon it do not believe that all\nthat has been said about this is true. There seems to be no doubt, however,\nthat it changes its colour according to its surroundings--a means of\nprotection given to a creature otherwise very defenceless.\n\n[Illustration: \"A lizard's body, lean and long,\n               A fish's head, a serpent's tongue.\"]\n\nSerpents--so called from a word which means that which _creeps_--are\nconstantly used in the Bible as emblems of deceit and treachery. The words,\n\"More subtle than any beast of the field,\" may well come to our minds as\nwe watch a serpent, with its limbless body, winding along with that soft,\ngliding motion to which we have given the name \"snake-like.\"\n\nIn the serpent's eyes, too, though they are often so beautiful that we\ncannot but admire them, there is some of this same dangerous subtlety--an\nuntrust--worthiness which makes us shrink from looking at them.\n\nThere are many varieties of this large family; some, like the rattlesnake,\ncannot climb or swim, but crawl along the ground, the terror of unwary\ntravellers who may tread upon them in the dim forest-paths; others are\nWater-snakes; some, like the Boa and Python, are dreaded, although not\nvenomous, because, of their enormous strength, and power of crushing their\nvictims in their close embrace; others, like the Cobra, for their deadly\nbite; while many--we might almost say most--snakes are quite harmless, for\nit has been reckoned that not more than one in ten is venomous; and none\nbut the giants of this family are dangerous, except for their poisoned\nbite. The skin of serpents is covered with what are called false scales,\nwhich do not overlap each other like those of the fishes, but only seem to\ndo so; and these scales are said to help them to move along rapidly. Most\nof them are beautifully marked and spotted, and some shine like gold in\nthe sun, while others have pale, soft tints; but these lovely colours fade\nin death, just as those of fish do; so that a snake in all its glittering\nbeauty can only be seen when alive. They often change their skins, creeping\nout of the old and appearing ready-dressed in the new. A traveller along\nthe banks of the Nile has often found these cast-off skins in the fields;\nthey are always turned inside out, for the old skin, which is very soft,\nfolds back as the snake slips out of it.\n\n[Illustration: SPOTTED SNAKES]\n\nI suppose the first thought of all of us, on finding a snake in the grass,\nwould be, Is it a venomous one? So I think you will like to know that\npoisonous snakes are rare in Europe; and Mr. Wood [Footnote: _Natural\nHistory_ p. 521.] tells us that the Viper, which is our only venomous\nserpent, is one of those least dangerous to life, although far from a\nfriend to those who shrink from pain. It may be known by dark spots down\nthe back. When we speak of venomous serpents, we mean those whose bite is\nto be dreaded, because it conveys a tiny drop of poison, which mingles with\nthe blood, and often causes intense anguish, ending in death. In poisonous\nserpents, the venom lies in a little bag at the root of a long sharp tooth,\npierced by a narrow tunnel, through which, at the moment when the bite\nis given, the poison flows into the wound. If these poison-fangs--one on\neach side--are taken out, the bite of the most dangerous serpents becomes\nharmless.\n\nThe Indian serpent-charmers of whom you have heard know this, and before\nthey allow themselves to be bitten by the deadly cobras, with which\nthey are so fond of playing their feats of jugglery, are careful to\nextract their sharp poison-fangs. Snakes seem to have a higher degree\nof intelligence than is possessed by reptiles generally, and they can\nbe trained to be as playful and friendly as kittens; as you will allow\nwhen you have heard a story which I have read, about some tame serpents\nwhich lived in a cupboard, and were allowed to crawl about a gentleman's\ndrawing-room and lie coiled up on the tables and in the arm-chairs--besides\nbeing on the most familiar terms with his children.\n\nBut we were speaking just now of the Viper, and you remember in the account\nof the Apostle Paul's stay at Malta how the people who had been so kind\nto the shipwrecked company looked at him when the viper crept out of the\nbundle of sticks which he had gathered and laid on the fire, and fastened\non his hand? They expected that he would have swollen--for that is one\nof the effects of the poison--or fallen down dead suddenly; but the Lord\nJesus, when He was on earth, said to His disciples, \"Behold, I give unto\nyou power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the\nenemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.\" And when He was going back\nto His Father, He said to those who believed on Him, \"In My name ... they\nshall take up serpents\"; so we are not surprised that His servant \"shook\noff the beast into the fire, and felt no harm.\"\n\nWe must not forget, that although God may now allow what we call a violent\ndeath to come to one of His children, whether by the bite of a serpent\nor by some accident, nothing can possibly happen to them by chance; and\nwhatever dangers He allows them to fall into or saves them from--all that\ncomes is the very best for them that could happen: because \"we know that\nall things work together for good to them that love God.\"\n\nThough you may admire the \"spotted snakes\" at a safe distance, in their\ncages, I know you will not be sorry to hear that in England we have but\ntwo kinds--the Ringed or Grass snake, which has no poison-fangs, and is\nperfectly harmless, feeding upon the frogs which it finds in the marshy\nplaces which are its home, and upon mice and young birds; and the common\nViper or Adder, which has two poison-fangs, but is not ready to use them,\nunless it is trodden on, or otherwise provoked. This snake is found in\nwoods, and is fond of basking in the sun. It hatches its young before their\nbirth; so that the viper's brood have not to make their way out of the\nshell before they can run about.\n\nIt is sad that dogs, and sometimes children, have been killed by its bite;\nbut it has not generally been fatal to men. These snakes are fond of\ncream, and will wind their way into the dairy, and skim the milk-pans, and\nsometimes visit hen-roosts, and suck the eggs.\n\nThe most terrible of the venomous snakes are the Cobra of India--called\nby a Portuguese name, which means \"hooded\"; a very grand-looking serpent,\nwhich holds its head high, and gives a loud hiss as it rises to strike its\nprey; and the Rattlesnake of South America.\n\nThe Cobra de Capello is a land-serpent, but can swim, and climb trees. It\nis treated with great respect in Egypt and India; and the people of Ceylon\nsay that it belongs to another world, but has come to pay them a visit.\nThey worship it in their temples, and their priests feed it with sugar\nand milk, and never allow it to be killed. I believe serpents are not now\nworshipped in Egypt; but they once were. They are constantly represented\nupon Egyptian monuments, which are as old as the time when the children of\nIsrael were in Egypt; and on one of them may be seen three men, who are\nbeing offered as sacrifices to a serpent which is represented coiled around\nthe seat of the sceptred king, as if protecting him.\n\nThe cobra loves music; and it is upon these serpents especially that the\nsnake-charmers like to show their skill. They take them about, coiled up in\nbaskets. When the performance is to begin, the lid of the basket is opened,\nand the charmer, seated on the ground, begins to play upon his pipe.\nInstantly the beautiful snake lifts its head, expands its hood--a loose\nskin about the neck which it makes large or small at pleasure--and creeps\nout, waving its body gracefully while the music lasts, and when it ceases,\ndropping down again into the basket.\n\nSome people have power to charm serpents; I have read a story of a man who,\nby his music cleared a house of the snakes which infested it; having got\ninto the empty rooms, and hidden themselves in the crevices in the walls.\nIt was a strange sight to see them creep from their hiding-places at the\nsound of the pipe; but sometimes serpents are deaf both to the voice and\nmusic of the charmer--\"like the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear; which\nwill not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisely\" to\nwhich David compares the wicked.\n\nSince the bite of the cobra is so deadly, it is well that travellers are\nnot likely to meet it; for in the day-time it sleeps in the depths of\nthe forest, gliding silently out at night in search of food. The bold\nnaturalist, of whose alligator-ride you have heard, says that he never saw\nany snake pursue a retreating prey; so that when a man, threading the mazes\nof a forest, sees a serpent gliding towards him, he has but to turn into a\nside path, and be safe. But if a snake is trodden upon, or otherwise roused\nto anger, it will dart forward upon its enemy, in self-defence; also, if\none of the enormous snakes comes upon a man, it may seize him before he\nhas time to run away. Waterton, however, did not know what fear was; and\ninstead of being paralysed with terror at the sight of serpents, once\n[Footnote: _Life of Charles Waterton_, p. 55.] caught a large one, the\n\"Bush master,\" and holding it by the throat so as to make it impossible\nfor it to bite, walked home with its folds coiled round him. He showed his\ncourage at another time quite as much by rescuing a little bird out of the\nvery mouth of a snake in a tree, as by the famous alligator exploit.\n\n[Illustration: RATTLESNAKE.]\n\nThe Rattlesnake of South America takes its name from its warning rattle, a\nsound made by some loose bones at the end of its tail, which knock together\nwhen it moves, and so give fair warning of such a dangerous foe being in\nthe neighbourhood. Its bite has been known to cause death in two minutes,\nand when it does not kill immediately, it produces a dreadful burning\nfeeling all over the body. Horses and dogs show very great terror if they\nsee these snakes; but the country folk are not so much afraid of them as\nyou would expect, for they know that it is the habit of the Rattlesnake to\nglide away at the sound of footsteps, and as long as the warning sound is\nheard, they feel safe. If the rattle is silent, it means danger, for the\nsnake is about to spring.\n\nA Frenchman tells us that he once disturbed a mother rattlesnake, and saw\nit coil itself up, open its mouth wide, and allow the five little ones\nwhich were lying beside it to glide in, and hide themselves there. He was\nvery much interested, and waited behind a tree to see what would happen\nnext. In about a quarter of an hour he saw the little snakes come out\nagain; but when he once more showed himself, they hid as before, and the\nmother quickly glided out of sight.\n\nThe Puff-adder of Africa, when roused, will breathe in air and puff\nitself out to an extraordinary extent. Being, like all these cold-blooded\ncreatures, very fond of warmth, it often comes at night to fires made\nby herdsmen or travellers; and so it happened that a traveller in South\nAfrica, sleeping soundly one night beside the fire, wrapped in his cloak,\nwas awakened by a weight on his chest, and found to his horror that a\npuff-adder had coiled itself up inside his shirt. His first thought was to\nseize the unwelcome visitor and throw it from him, but remembering that it\nprobably would only injure him if disturbed, he had the presence of mind to\nlet it remain in the warm nest it had found for itself, until, roused by a\nlight, it slowly uncoiled itself and crept away.\n\nOf the serpents which are dreaded--not for their bite, for they have no\npoison-fangs--but for their great strength and daring, and for the way\nin which they coil round their victims, crushing them to death in their\nterrible embrace--the most dangerous are the Python of the Old World, and\nthe Boa-constrictor of the New.\n\nIn one respect all serpents are boa-constrictors, for a very small one\nhas been seen in the act of thus crushing a bird; but the great boa which\ninhabits tropical America is a giant, which has been known to swallow even\na buffalo whole, after it has crushed it to mummy, and broken all its\nbones. Boas can swim and climb; they will catch fish as they come near the\nsurface of the water, and drag them ashore; or hang by their tails from\nsome forest tree, and thus lie in wait to seize any animal which may be\npassing. They are now very shy of men, and not much feared by them; but\nthese great snakes used to be worshipped as gods by the people of Mexico,\nand some of their serpent-idols have been found in ancient temples--showing\nhow much they were once dreaded; for it is the habit of men to worship what\nthey greatly fear.\n\nThe Python, a snake very like the boa, is an object of horror to the people\nof South Africa; yet they are unwilling to destroy it, because they believe\nit has an awful power, and say that no one has ever been known to injure a\npython, without being severely punished in some mysterious way. I have read\nan account of an adventure which a Dutchman had with one of these serpents,\nwhich I must tell you, because of the part played in it by his little dog.\nYou shall have the story in his own words:--\"I had in my cabin a large and\nstrong cage, enclosing a python of considerable size, but which appeared to\nbe dull and inanimate. We were lying off the coast of Borneo, where I was\ndetained for some days. When I came again on board, I had not taken many\nsteps before my little dog seized me by the trousers and endeavoured to\nhold me fast. I shook him off and proceeded, when the dog seized me again,\nand I again roughly forced him from me. At this juncture my attention was\ndirected to several hatchet-marks on the deck, and I instantly inquired the\nmeaning. The answer was, 'The snake, sir! the snake is loose!' And so it\nproved. The reptile had cast his slough, and assumed with renewed beauty\nall its natural energy. It had forced itself out of the cage, and after\ndoing some damage below, found its way to the deck, spreading consternation\namong the men; by whom, as it appeared, it had been slightly wounded,\nhatchets having been used for its destruction. Hence the marks on the deck,\nand hence the fear of the dog, and its anxiety to detain me from advancing\ninto danger.\n\n\"With some precaution I proceeded to the spot where the snake was said to\nhave ensconsed himself, and soon observed him lying in coils. The instant\nhe saw me, he raised up full half of his length, and glancing around as\nif uncertain whether to attack or fly, commenced a succession of violent\nundulatory movements, the head alternately towering aloft and touching the\ndeck. At last, spying an opportunity, he dashed along with inconceivable\nrapidity to the other end of the vessel, whither he was pursued; again he\ndisplayed the undulations as described, and again darted to another part\nof the deck. All felt excited, not without a misgiving that some accident\nmight take place. In this manner the chase was continued,\" the story goes\non to say, until the snake received its death-blow from a cutlass. He\nmeasured seventeen feet. \"I repented of my roughness to the dog,\" thus his\nmaster concludes, \"and he was henceforward a great favourite with the men,\nwho appreciated his fidelity and intelligence.\"\n\nWe read in the Epistle of James that \"every kind of beasts, and of birds,\nand of serpents, and of things in the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed of\nmankind\"; and I have read of some snakes kept as pets by an English family,\nwhich were not only perfectly tame, but seemed to be exceedingly fond of\nthose to whom they belonged.\n\nAn artist named Severn who visited this family says he found himself in\ncompany with a large boa-constrictor, a python, and several smaller snakes.\nHe felt a good deal alarmed when the master of the house was called out of\nthe room, and he was left with the boa--a great serpent as large round as a\nsmall tree--coiled on an arm-chair beside him. Presently two little girls\ncame in with their mother; they at once went to the boa, calling the huge\nsnake pet names, and allowing it to twine itself around them. He says, \"The\nchildren over and over again took its head in their hands and kissed its\nmouth, pushing aside its forked tongue in doing so. The animal seemed much\npleased, but kept turning its head continually towards me with a curious\ngaze, until I allowed it to nestle its head for a moment up my sleeve.\nNothing could be prettier than to see this splendid serpent coiled all\nround Mrs. Mann while she moved about the room, and when she stood to\npour out our coffee. It was long before I could make up my mind to end\nthe visit, and I returned soon after with a friend to see my snake-taming\nacquaintance again. The snakes seemed very obedient, and remained in their\ncupboard when told to do so.\" [Footnote: Romanes' _Animal Intelligence_,\npp. 260, 261.]\n\nAlthough I tell you this strange story, I do not think I should like to\nmake a pet of any serpent, however tame it might be; because it was this\ncreature, \"more subtle than any beast of the field which the Lord God had\nmade\"--which that enemy of God and of the souls of men, who is spoken of\nin the last book of the Bible as \"that old serpent, called the Devil, and\nSatan, which deceiveth the whole world,\" used as an instrument, when he\ncame to tempt Eve in the garden of Eden.\n\nThe word Eden means \"pleasure\"; and when we were talking of that delightful\nplace--that garden which God planted, and where He put the man whom He had\nformed--the little ones were asked to tell all they knew about it.\n\nLeslie's answer was, \"It was God's garden\"; and Eustace and Dick told of\nthe two trees which were there, \"the tree of life also, in the midst of the\ngarden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil.\"\n\nIt was of this tree that Sharley and Chris spoke, when they answered the\nquestion--\n\n\"There was something in the Garden of Eden to remind Adam and Eve that they\nwere God's creatures, subject to Him. What was it?\"\n\n\"It was the tree of knowledge of good and evil,\" they said; for \"the Lord\nGod commanded the man, saying. Of every tree of the garden thou mayest\nfreely eat: but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt\nnot eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely\ndie.\"\n\nAnother question which the little boys had to answer was this--\n\n\"What was the first sin?\"\n\n\"When Eve and Adam plucked the fruit.\" This was the answer given by all.\n\nI want you to think about it. Adam and Eve owed everything to God, for He\nhad created them in His own image; and had blessed them, and given them\n\"dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and\nover every living thing that moveth upon the earth,\" and had put them in\nthe beautiful garden which He had planted. How dreadful that they should\ndisobey the only command God gave them, and thus sin against Him! But had\nnot Eve sinned against God, even before she put out her hand and \"took of\nthe fruit thereof, and did eat; and gave also unto her husband with her,\nand he did eat?\"\n\nChrissie said that when the serpent asked Eve that question about what God\nhad said, she ought not to have taken any notice; and Sharley thought that\nthe first beginning of the sin was listening to the serpent at all, and\nthat the devil now puts it into our hearts to ask, \"Is there any harm in\ndoing it?\" when he wants to make us listen to him, and forget what God has\nsaid. And then we all agreed that the way to answer Satan is in Scripture\nwords.\n\nI think Sharley was right in saying that the first beginning of the sin in\nthe Garden of Eden was when Eve _listened_ to the serpent--lent her ear to\none who dared to ask such a question as \"Hath God said?\" The next step in\nthe road which led away from God, Eve took when she _answered_ that daring\nquestion; the next, when she _believed_ the lie of the serpent, instead of\nthe word of God.\n\nThe devil is a liar, and when he spoke to Eve he tried to make her think\nthat God was not so good to His creatures as He might be, for He would not\nallow them to have the very best thing in the garden--that forbidden fruit.\nThe great enemy of God envied His creatures their happy place where they\nreceived everything from Him, and were dependent upon Him for everything;\nand God allowed the man and woman whom He had made, to be proved; and, when\nweighed in the balance, they were found WANTING. And so we read in God's\nbook how \"by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so\ndeath passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.\"\n\nAs Eve gave her confidence to the serpent, she lost confidence in God, and\nwent on to believe that when _God_ had said, \"In the day that thou eatest\nthereof thou shalt surely die,\" and the _serpent_ said, \"Ye shall not\nsurely die,\" it was the serpent that spoke the truth. How dreadful it was\nfor God's creatures to look to the devil for happiness, to give up God who\ncreated them, and take Satan for their master!\n\nInstead of happiness they found only shame and misery. The serpent had said\nthat their eyes should be opened, and they should be as gods, knowing good\nand evil. We read, \"And the eyes of them both were opened;\" but God in His\nword tells us of those whose eyes \"the God of this world hath blinded.\"\nThey had no power to choose what was good; and tried to hide away from God.\n\nAnd so the first man was driven out of God's garden, and there has never\nbeen any way back to it at all! No way back to God either, for Adam or\nfor his children, except through Christ, \"the Second Man, the Lord from\nHeaven.\"\n\nIt was of this wonderful way, of Him who is \"the Way,\" that God spoke when\nHe told the serpent that the Seed of the woman should bruise his head.\n\nThe Lord Jesus Christ was \"the Seed,\" the One who loved us and gave Himself\nfor us: the One whom \"God so loved the world\" as to give, \"that whosoever\nbelieves in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life;\" the One who\n\"once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to\nGod.\"\n\nWe have been learning something of how dreadful the bites of serpents are,\nhow full of deadly poison: and we have been reading how, by listening to\nthe old serpent, the poison of sin--having our own will, and thinking hard\nthoughts of God--came into the hearts of God's creatures, bringing sorrow,\nand shame, and death with it. How beautiful that the righteous One in whom\nwas no sin, and who come to take away our sins, should tell us that \"As\nMoses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man\nbe lifted up.\" The serpent of brass was not kept in Moses's tent; it was\nlifted high, for all to see it. God, who knew His people's sin, and had\nsent those fiery serpents to bite them, had Himself told Moses to make that\nserpent of brass, and those who were bitten had only to look at it and\nlive. If they looked at their own hurt, or at each other, or at Moses--all\nwas of no avail; but \"it came to pass that if a serpent had bitten any man,\nwhen he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived.\"\n\nGod--who knew that every one of us born into this world is born away from\nHim, and with the dreadful poison of sin, like the serpent's bite, in\nus--gave His only begotten Son to be lifted up, that \"whosoever believeth\nin Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.\" And He tells us\nto look at Him and live, just as the poor sinful people, dying of the\nserpent's bite, looked at the serpent of brass, and their deadly wound was\nhealed. God has told us to look straight to His Son, dying for sin, dying\nin our stead; but it is not our looking that saves us, it is the blessed\nSaviour whose name is called Jesus, \"for He shall save His people from\ntheir sins.\"\n\nI must not forget to tell you that many of the extinct animals whose\nskeletons are to be seen in museums belonged to the class of Reptiles.\n\nWe read that \"God created great whales\"--or sea monsters--and remains have\nbeen found of enormous lizard-like creatures. One has been called the\nFish-lizard; it seems to have had a crocodile's head, with a body like that\nof a small whale.\n\nAnother had a long swan-like neck, the body and tail of a quadruped, and\npaddles like a turtle.\n\nAnother, called the Winged-lizard, had bat-like wings and dreadful jaws\narmed with numerous teeth. All these \"Saurians\" are believed to have\nfrequented the sea or rivers; but another called the Great-lizard, was a\nland-animal, as was the Forest-lizard, and a monster kind of Toad with very\ncuriously formed teeth. But no description will give you an idea of the\nsize of these creatures, though I may tell you that a party of gentlemen\ndined inside the body of one great extinct lizard at the Crystal Palace,\nwhere models, not very accurately made, of the most remarkable ancient\nanimals are to be seen. I think my first thought when I see the actual\nremains of these old-world monsters, with their terrible jaws, is that of\nthankfulness that they have passed away from sea and land. But we know that\nGod who created them \"saw that it was good,\" and in the Book of Job we may\nread His description of mighty and terrible creatures which show forth His\npower.\n\nWe were speaking of a monster toad whose fossil remains have been found;\nand I must tell you that before we had done with the \"Creeping Things,\" I\nwas asked a difficult question. \"To what class do the frogs and toads and\nnewts belong? Are they Vertebrate animals? Do they belong to the land or\nthe water?\"\n\nI said they certainly do belong to the great Backboned family, and are\nplaced in a class by themselves, as they are neither Mammalia, Birds,\nFishes, nor Reptiles, properly speaking, and are called Amphibia, because\nthey live, as it were, a double life.\n\n[Illustration: BROWN FROGS.]\n\nThey have gills, which enable them to breathe in water, to begin with,\nand lungs which enable them to breathe in air, later on. They are mostly\nwithout scales, and do not need to drink, because they imbibe moisture from\nthe air through their soft damp skin. When you see a frog hopping across\nyour path, you see a creature which has known many a change in its life,\nfor frogs are among those very interesting animals which undergo what are\ncalled _metamorphoses_. We have met with this word before, and may remember\nthat it is used to express the change from one form to another which is\nwrought in some living creatures in the course of their growth. I daresay\nyou imagine as I once did, that all young animals are like their parents,\nonly on a smaller scale; for you see that a young horse, or elephant, or\nwhale, a pup or a kitten, is at its birth in all respects just what it\nwill be when full-grown, only smaller. So it is with the reptiles and the\nbirds--the young ones, when hatched, are like the parents. But in the case\nof frogs and newts, and also most insects, the young ones do not merely\nincrease in size as they grow, but pass from one stage of growth to\nanother, each different from the former, until like the butterfly when\nit emerges from the chrysalis, they reach what is called their perfect\nstate--and these metamorphoses or changes are very curious and interesting\nindeed.\n\nWhen Master Froggie was a young tadpole, some pond or ditch was his home,\nfor he was an aquatic animal; but now that he is full-grown he has passed\ninto another way of living: he breathes, or rather swallows _air_, and\nmust, as he swims about with his beautifully webbed feet, come to the\nsurface of the water now and then, or he would die. I am sure you know the\nfrog well enough, and you may even have heard the harsh croak from which\nit has its name, as you have passed some damp meadow or weedy pond, on a\nsummer evening. But I wonder whether you know frogs' eggs when you see\nthem?\n\nMy brothers and I did not, long ago, when we used to fish with sticks in a\npond by the cross-roads for what we called \"bunches of grapes!\" The grapes\nwere little balls of jelly with a tiny black spot in each, and we never\nguessed that they were really eggs, and that the little black spot in the\nslimy covering would one day actually turn into a live, leaping, croaking\nfrog. If we had had the patience to watch, we should have seen that little\nblack dot grow and grow, until it seemed to have become a creature almost\nall tail, with the head and body still only a tiny ball. By-and-by we\nshould have seen legs and feet begin to appear, and as the legs grew\nlonger, the tail become shorter, until it quite disappeared. Meanwhile,\nother changes which we could not see would have taken place; instead of the\ngills, which made the tadpole a water-breather, Master Froggie would have\nacquired lungs, like any land animal; the aquatic would have changed into\nan a\u00ebrial, the herbivorous into a carnivorous creature, so that we may well\nsay it has lived two lives.\n\nThe beautiful little newts' life-history is much the same, only that\ntheir transformation is not quite so complete, for they never lose their\nlizard-like tails, but remain little crocodiles to the end of the chapter.\n\n\n  \"_Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father\n  who is in heaven is merciful._\"\n\n  \"Turn, turn thy hasty foot aside,\n    Nor crush that helpless worm;\n  The frame thy wayward looks deride\n    None but our God could form.\n\n  \"The common Lord of all that move,\n    From whom thy being flow'd,\n  A portion of His boundless love\n    On that poor worm bestow'd.\n\n  \"The light, the air, the dew He made\n    To all His creatures free,\n  And spreads o'er earth the grassy blade\n    For them as well as thee.\n\n  \"Let them enjoy their little day,\n    Their lowly bliss receive;\n  Oh! do not lightly take away\n    The life thou can'st not give.\"\n\nGISBORNE.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIXTH DAY.\n\nTHE ANIMAL WORLD.\n\n\n\"_Every beast of the forest is Mine, and the cattle upon a thousand\nhills._\"--PSALM l. 10.\n\n\"_... God ... who teacheth us more than the beasts of the earth, and maketh\nus wiser than the fowls of heaven._\"--JOB xxxv. 11.\n\n\"_Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the\nbeast that goeth downward to the earth?_\"--ECCLESIASTES iii. 21.\n\n\nNow that we have come to the last of those wonderful working-days of which\nGod has told us, I want you--just as we all did when we had reached the\nSIXTH DAY in our readings--to read over again all the verses in the first\nchapter of Genesis down to verse 26, and to notice carefully the _words_\nwhich God has used in speaking to us about what He created and made. And I\nwant you especially to think of those two words of which we were speaking a\nlittle while ago--God _created_, and God _made_.\n\nBefore God speaks to us of the FIRST DAY, with its evening and its morning,\nHe tells us that \"in the beginning\" He \"created the heaven and the earth.\"\n\n(_Day I_.) Then--we do not know how long after--God spoke, and commanded\nthe light to shine out of the darkness; so that where the dark had been\nthe light now was. \"And God saw the light, that it was good,\" and divided\nit from the darkness. The light God called Day. Then after the night had\npassed, the light returned, and there was morning. \"And the evening and the\nmorning were the First Day.\"\n\n(_Day II_.) Again God spoke, and that great globe of air which surrounds\nthe earth was formed--the blue sky above us, and the clouds, the\ntreasure-house for the rain. \"And God called the firmament,\" or expansion,\n\"Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the Second Day.\" Upon this\nday we do not read of anything new being made; and it is not said, \"And God\nsaw that it was good,\" as after the work of the other days.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE JOY OF HARVEST.\"]\n\n(_Day III_.) Again God spoke, and the dry land appeared'; so that upon this\nDay there were already in existence earth and sea, air and water, day and\nnight. And God Himself saw that all was good in the world which He had\nmade. Then He adorned the earth with verdure and beauty, and brought out of\nit grass, corn, fruit-trees; each \"after its kind,\" \"And God saw that it\nwas good. And the evening and the morning were the Third Day.\"\n\n(_Day IV_.) Again God spoke, and the two great lights, sun and moon, were\nset to give light--day and night--upon the earth, and to order the seasons.\n\"And God saw that it was good. And the evening and the morning were the\nFourth Day.\"\n\n(_Day V_.) Again God spoke; living creatures swarmed in the waters, and\n\"winged fowl\" flew \"in the open firmament of heaven.\" It is now, in\nconnection with air and sea being filled with living beings, to which God\ngave not only the same power to grow and multiply with which He had endowed\nthe trees and the herbage, but in addition to it, power to move from one\nplace to another at will, power to enjoy, and to go in quest of that which\nseems to them desirable, that we have again the word, \"God created,\" and\nalso a new word, never before used about day or night, earth or sea, sun or\nmoon, tree or flower--\"God blessed.\"\n\nYou remember how we noticed, when we were reading about the work of God\non the Fifth Day, that as soon as He had made, not stones or plants, but\nfishes and birds, He blessed them. God made these living creatures happy,\neach in the place suited to the kind of life He had given it. And again of\nthis Day's work we read, \"And God saw that it was good.... And the evening\nand the morning were the Fifth Day.\"\n\nNow let us read verses 24 and 25 very carefully. These verses tell us of\npart of God's work on the Sixth Day; and we notice that this Day begins,\nlike the former ones, with those three words which we have read so many\ntimes in this chapter--\"And God said.\"\n\n(_Day VI_.) I wish you to stop at the end of verse 25 because there the\naccount which God has given us of His creation of the world ends. All was\nnow complete; and all was very good in the eyes of Him who had made and\nfashioned it. The rest of the chapter speaks of a distinct part of God's\nCreation, when man, who was to be over it all, was made; a part of the\nCreation, but head and Crown of all; a being distinct from any other\ninhabitant of earth, air, or sea, because created _in the image of God_.\n\nThe old writer who speaks so quaintly about the \"great pond of the world,\"\nand the \"guests\" which it contains, exclaims with wonder when he thinks of\nthe \"tenant\" which God, when He had made the great house of the world and\nfurnished it, brought in to possess it. He says:--\n\n\"But, oh God, what a little lord hast Thou made over this great world!...\nyet none but he can see what Thou hast done; none but he can admire and\nadore Thee in what he seeth.... Other creatures Thou madest by a simple\ncommand, man not without a divine consultation; others at once, man Thou\ndidst first form, then inspire; others in several shapes, like to none but\nthemselves, man after Thine own image ... others with qualities fit for\nservice; man for dominion; other creatures grovel to their earth, and have\nall their senses upon it, this is reared up towards heaven.\"\n\nWe talked a good deal about this; for I wished that Eustace and Leslie, and\neven little Dick, should understand something of the great difference which\nGod has put between those creatures--the cleverest and best of them--who\nlive their little life in the sea or on the earth, and then pass away\naltogether, and even a little child who does not know its right hand from\nits left, and cannot take care of itself perhaps nearly so well as a bird\nor a beast, but who has within it what God has given to no bird or beast, a\nspirit which can never die, a spirit which must some time \"return unto God\nwho gave it,\" because it belongs to Him.\n\nNo beast will have to give an account of itself to God; for to these\ncreatures of a day, He has given their bodies, so wonderful and beautiful,\nand the breath by which they live; but not that deathless part, the spirit,\nbecause of which every man is responsible to God, and knows that he is,\neven though he may never have read in God's Word that \"every one of us\nshall give account of himself to God.\"\n\nLet me tell you how a missionary explained this, not long ago, to a king\nfar away in the heart of Africa.\n\nHe had been talking to him about the stars and the sun; and the king\npresently asked where God, who had made the sun, dwelt, and what He did\nwith people after they were dead.\n\nThe missionary says, \"I answered that God was not confined to one place as\nwe are; that when man's body died, the spirit of him who was a child of\nGod went above, and dwelt for ever in the presence of God, and those whom\nGod knew not here in this life were cast out into a place of sorrow and\nburning.\"\n\n\"But why does God do so?\" the king asked. \"What reason has He for putting\nman from Him?\"\n\nThe missionary explained that God is righteous, and must punish those who\nare guilty in His sight.\n\n\"But,\" said the king, \"_we_ did not know the laws of God _here_. How can He\npunish _us_ for not keeping them?\"\n\n[Illustration: KAFFIRS OF VARIOUS TRIBES.]\n\nThe missionary answered that God had put His law in their hearts, so that\nthey all knew what was right and what was wrong.\n\n\"You know,\" he said, \"when a man lies to your face and steals from you,\nthat he injures you; and call him bad and wicked. So when you tomorrow\ndo the same thing, God judges you with the same judgement with which you\njudged your fellow-creature yesterday.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the king, \"that is true; that I understand.\"\n\nWe shall think more by-and-by about the great difference which God has put\nbetween man, whom He created in His own image, and every other creature,\nbut I want you never to forget it.\n\nIn reading of the beautiful life which God gave to the fishes and the\nbirds, and to those beasts that He commanded the earth to bring forth,\nabout which we are going to speak a little today, we must always remember,\nwhile we admire the wonderful gifts and powers which they have from God,\nthat He has put the widest possible distance between us and them.\n\nWe shall see that many of these animals are much stronger than the\nstrongest man; that to some of them God has given senses keener than ours;\nand to others, in an especial degree, that great gift called instinct, by\nwhich the little swallow finds its way over sea and land, the ants \"prepare\ntheir meat in the summer,\" the beaver makes dams across the stream, and the\nlittle prairie dogs build pleasant towns, where they can all live together,\none of them always keeping watch lest any enemy should surprise the\nworkers.\n\nAll these are beautiful proofs of the kindness and faithfulness of God\ntowards the creatures He has made; and we may admire them, and learn all we\ncan from them; but never imagine for one moment, that man is only a grander\nand more wonderfully made sort of animal, as a lion is superior to a mole,\nand a mole to a worm.\n\nJust as God has told us there would be, there are now some people who think\nthey know better than to believe what His Word says about this, and who try\nto think that there never was such a \"wonderful animal\" as man has grown to\nbe, and are not ashamed to talk of his \"ape-like ancestors.\" But among all\nthe fossil-animals which the earth has kept so safely, I need hardly tell\nyou that not one specimen of an animal between a monkey and a man has\never been found. As has been well said, those who speak in this way \"have\nto convert a four-handed ape into an erect man, a screaming baboon into\nan articulating, speaking being; brutal instinct into reason, will,\nconscience; a thing that perishes into that which believes in God, and\nwhose soul is immortal.\"\n\nMr. Frank Buckland, whose interesting books I hope you may one day read,\nhad a great many strange pets; among them a remarkably clever monkey. He\nstudied the habits of this monkey very carefully and describes some of\nthe things which it did by instinct--a sense which no one can understand,\ngiven by God to guide those living creatures upon whom He has not bestowed\nreason--and he also tells most amusing stories of the way in which it\nimitated what it saw him do; but he found that this monkey never reasoned\nabout things, as even a very young child will.\n\nIt could use its own powerful head and hands to defend itself, if attacked;\nbut he never saw it make a weapon to use against its enemies. It was very\nglad to get near the good fire which its master had made, and would spread\nout its hands and warm them in the blaze; but it never made a fire for\nitself. And though Mr. Buckland laid plenty of wood close to the fire, and\nwatched to see what a creature so fond of heat would do, he found that the\nmonkey sat by the fire and allowed it to go out; for although he shivered\nwith cold, he did not understand that by putting fresh wood on, the heat\nwhich he had so enjoyed would be kept up.\n\nSo it is with animals generally; they do things by instinct or by imitation\nrather than through reason; though we often see them look as if \"putting\nthis and that together.\" And we know no animal able to tell its thoughts by\nspeaking, though some birds have been trained to repeat words.\n\nIn that charming book, written for French children \"The First Year of\nScientific Knowledge,\" _man_ is placed first among animals, as the most\nwonderful of them all, but the author is careful to explain that he is\nthere treating only of man's body; as, were it otherwise, it would be\nneedful to allow him a particular division all for himself. We see that\nin God's Book man is put last, and that he is not counted with the other\nliving creatures at all.\n\nYou may say that men are born, and eat, and sleep, and breathe, and grow\nold, and have bones, and a heart, and blood running through their veins;\nand so it is with beasts, and birds, and fishes. But God speaks to us of\nthe spirit of a beast--its natural life--which goes downward, in contrast\nwith the spirit of man, which goes upward, and returns \"unto God who gave\nit.\" It is because of this immortal part, that the life of a man is not to\nbe compared with, or put beside, that of a beast that perishes.\n\nPut your hand upon your heart for a moment. You can feel something there,\ngoing \"beat, beat,\" and you know that as long as that \"beat, beat\" goes on\nyou are alive. If it were to stop you would die, for no man has power to\nset it going again. Now, you can also feel the beating of the heart of a\ndog, or of a little frightened bird as you hold it in your hand; and you\nknow that when its heart ceases to move, its little hour of pleasure or\npain is over, for there is nothing in the dead body of a bird, as there is\neven in a dry seed, that will make it spring up and grow again--_all_ its\nlife has gone.\n\nEven as I am writing this for you, a sparrow, picking up crumbs of bread,\ncomes hopping close to my feet. The crumbs feed his little life, and you\nknow that he would soon die, starved to death like many a poor birdie in\nits cage, if he could get no food. You, too, would die if you had nothing\nto eat; that is, your body would, but not what has most right to be\ncalled _you_; that never-dying spirit which has lived in your body as its\nhouse--_it_ would still be alive--alive to God: \"for all live unto Him.\" So\ndifferent are you from the beasts that perish that we will turn to the Book\nfrom which alone we can know the truth, and there let us notice, first,\nthat when man was to be made, it is no longer, \"And God said, Let there be:\nand there was;\" but instead, the wondrous words are written, \"And God said,\nLet us make man in our image, after our likeness.... So God created man in\nHis own image\"; and again we read, \"The Lord God formed man of the dust\nof the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man\nbecame a living soul.\"\n\nWe are now going to study some of the wonderful works of God in the\nanimal-world, and I hope to be able to tell you some interesting stories of\nwhat creatures who have not language, and cannot reason in the way in which\nwe can, have been able to do by instinct and intelligence.\n\nIt is very pleasant to read the accounts given by other people of what they\nhave observed, but even better still to learn to use our own eyes. Try this\nplan, and you will be surprised at the many curious and beautiful things\nabout the ways of animals which you can find out for yourself.\n\nYou remember, when we were talking about fishes and birds, we found that\nthey both belong to the great group of animals called Vertebrate, from\nhaving a backbone made of many pieces beautifully fitted together.\n\nWe are now going to speak of the last class in that great group--the\nMammalia, so called because they feed their young, not as birds do, with\ninsects or grain, but with milk. They are chiefly \"four-footed beasts of\nthe earth,\" and are covered with hair or fur. In this class extremes meet;\nwe find the great elephant and the playful little squirrel, the kingly lion\nand the timid mouse which is said to have set him free when snared in the\nhunter's net.\n\nTo this class also belong the land-monsters of bygone days, whose skeletons\nyou may see in museums: such as the Mammoth, or hairy elephant, found in\nthe British Isles, and also over half the globe; the Mastodon, another\nelephantine extinct monster, whose remains are found in America; the Woolly\nRhinoceros, with two large horns on his face, dug out of the frozen soil of\nSiberia; the Great Irish Deer, whose antlers measured 9 feet from tip to\ntip; and Giant Sloths of South America, inhabitating the same region as the\nSloths of to-day.\n\nBut we must leave the \"unnumbered, unremembered tribes\" of buried creatures\nwhich once trod this earth; and speaking only of those now alive, I\nmust tell you that in the first Division of the great class, Mammalia,\nnaturalists place the Quadrumana, or four-handed creatures. This name is\ngiven to all monkeys; because their great-toes are like thumbs, so that\nthey can take hold of the branches in the forests where they spend their\nlives, quite as well with their feet as with their hands.\n\nI need not tell you what they are like, for you know something of the\nnoisy, chattering, mischievous creatures, from watching them at the \"Zoo.\"\nBut you have never seen the enormous apes which live in Africa and the\nforests of Borneo. Of these the Orang-outang--its name means \"man of the\nwoods\"--is the largest. He is as tall as a man, and very strong, with long\narms, which almost reach the ground as he stands. From the pictures I have\nseen, I certainly should not like to meet this \"man of the woods\" at home,\nseated in the sort of nest which he makes for himself in the trees. But\nthese great, fierce-looking creatures can be tamed; and I have read of one\nwho might be seen walking in the garden, arm-in-arm with his keeper; and of\nanother who would sit at table and imitate everything which he saw people\ndo. He would pour out his tea, put sugar and milk in it, and then hold his\ncup and saucer, and drink the tea, all very cleverly; for no animals are so\ngood at imitating others as monkeys are. Remember this, if you are fond of\ncopying what other people do and say, be sure that you copy only what is\nworthy of imitation.\n\n[Illustration: TOO CLEVER.]\n\nHere is an amusing traveller's tale about some monkeys which carried their\nlove of imitating very far; as you will say when you have read\n\n\"THE SAILOR AND THE MONKEYS.\n\n  \"Once, in the hope of honest gain\n    From Afric's golden store,\n  A smart young sailor crossed the main,\n    And landed on the shore.\n\n  \"And leaving soon the sultry strand\n    Where his fair vessel lay,\n  He travelled o'er the neighbouring land\n    To trade in peaceful way.\n\n  \"Full many a toy had he to sell,\n    And caps of scarlet dye;\n  And such things as he knew full well\n    Would please the native's eye.\n\n  \"But as he travelled through the woods\n    He longed to have a nap,\n  And opening there his pack of goods,\n    Took out a scarlet cap,\n\n  \"And drew it on his head, thereby\n    To shield him from the sun;\n  Then soundly slept, nor thought an eye\n    Had seen what he had done.\n\n  \"But many a monkey dwelling there,\n    Though hidden from his eyes,\n  Having well watched the whole affair,\n    Now longed to win a prize.\n\n  \"And while he slept each one did seize\n    A cap to deck his brows;\n  Then climbing up the highest trees,\n    Sat chattering on the boughs.\n\n  \"The sailor waked, his caps were gone,\n    And loud and long he grieves,\n  Till, looking up with heart forlorn,\n    He spied at once the thieves.\n\n  \"With cap of red upon each head\n    Full fifty faces grim,\n  The sailor sees amid the trees,\n    With all eyes fixed on him.\n\n  \"He brandished quick a mighty stick,\n    But could not reach their bower,\n  Nor could he stone, for every one\n    Was far beyond his power.\n\n  \"'Alas!' he thought, 'I've safely brought\n    My caps far o'er the seas;\n  But could not guess it was to dress\n    Such little rogues as these.'\n\n  \"Then quickly down he threw his own,\n    And loud in anger cried,\n  'Take this one too, you thievish crew,\n    Since you have all beside.'\n\n  \"But quick as thought the caps were thrown\n    From every monkey's crown,\n  For, like himself, each little elf\n    Threw his directly down.\n\n  \"He then with ease did gather these,\n    And in his pack did bind;\n  Then through the woods conveyed his goods,\n    And sold them to his mind.\"\n\nI daresay you could tell me the story of the monkeys who washed their hands\nand faces in pitch, and so were caught. But from all the stories which are\ntold about monkeys, I fancy that we think of them too much as clever, and\nnoisy, and mischievous, and sometimes very ill-tempered and revengeful; so\nI want to tell you something of their good and gentle ways, and especially\nof their love for their little ones.\n\nI used to watch a mother, in the monkey-house at the Gardens, nursing\nher baby--a tiny grey thing, with its hair parted down the middle, and\nthe funniest, most knowing little face of its own. She nursed it in the\ntenderest way, with such a loving expression on her face the while.\n\nThen I have read of an American monkey driving away the flies which teased\nher little one; and of another good mother who was seen washing the faces\nof her family in a stream. And they are kind not only to their own; for if\na poor little monkey is left an orphan, it is sure to be taken care of by\nsome other monkey's father or mother.\n\nA gentleman who was coming home from India tells this story: There were on\nboard two monkeys, one older than the other, but not its mother. One day\nthe little one fell overboard. The other at once jumped over the side of\nthe vessel to a part of the ship where she could stand, and holding on by\none hand, with the other she held out to the poor little drowning monkey\nthe end of the cord by which she was tied up, but which was then dangling\nfrom her waist. It was a wonderful plan for her to think of, was it not?\nBut the cord was too short, and the little monkey was saved by a sailor who\nthrew it a rope, which came near enough for it to catch at and cling to.\n\nI remember being told by a brother of mine who had once shot a young\nmonkey, that he could not forget the reproachful look which the poor mother\ngave him, and he never again would shoot one. He said the little wounded\nmonkey cried like a child.\n\nIf you have ever seen a bat, you will think it strange to class these\nwinged creatures with monkeys, and it does at first sight seem a mistake\nthat they should be among the Mammalia at all; one would expect to see\nall winged things in the Bird family. But the bat is rightly placed in\nthis division, and you will understand why it has been classed with the\nQuadrumana, when you have carefully examined those soft, fan-like wings\nwhich you can spread out with your fingers. If you could take a bat in your\nhand, and look at it from head to foot, you would notice three things very\nunlike a bird about it. In the first place, it has no feathers, but is\ncovered with very soft grey fur; it has no beak, but sharp teeth--so sharp\nthat I advise you to keep your fingers out of their way; then, look at its\nlong ears! It certainly cannot be a bird.\n\nBesides being reckoned among the four-handed creatures, a Greek name has\nbeen given to bats, from the curious way in which their fore paws, or\nhands, have been lengthened out into wings; it means \"hand-winged.\"\n\nNow, keeping this name in mind, gently unfold the wing: the small bones\nwhich you feel, over which the soft grey web is stretched, are really the\nfingers of the animal, very long fingers they are, and the web is the skin\nof the back and breast which has been drawn over them, so as to make this\nstrange hand-wing. If you cannot examine a live bat, perhaps by studying\nthis picture of one, you may understand better how this soft, dusky wing is\nmade.\n\n[Illustration: \"FLITTER-MOUSE\" ON THE WING.]\n\nThe bat is what is called a nocturnal animal, because it cannot bear the\nstrong light of day, and flies about at night in search of its food. We\nsometimes hear it said that a person is \"as blind as a bat,\" but that is\nbecause when bats are taken, contrary to their nature, into the sunlight,\nthey are so dazzled by it, that they fly blunderingly hither and thither,\nin their efforts to get away from it. They have very sharp eyes, but they\ndo not use them by day, but sleep all day long, hitched to a stone in a\nwall, or to a branch in the woods by their hind legs--always choosing a\ndark place, and folding their wings around them like a curtain.\n\nI remember being very much afraid of bats when I was a child. An old castle\nby the sea swarmed with them, and when my brothers took lighted pieces of\nwood and went into the dark, deserted ruin to rouse the sleeping bats and\nsee whether they could not catch one, the way in which the poor dazed\ncreatures flew at our faces in their blind efforts to escape frightened\nme very much, and when one was caught and put into my hand I disliked the\n\"creepy\" feel of the soft wings too much to keep it long. I knew nothing\nabout bats then, and was silly enough to think that they were \"horrid\"\nand \"frightful\" creatures--words which we should not use in speaking of\nanything that God has made. Now that I have learnt a little about them, I\nfancy I should not mind going into that old castle, and having another look\nat them; but still I do not think I should care to have one for a pet.\n\nPerhaps you think no one would; but I have read of a tame bat which knew\nits master, and loved to be stroked and petted as much as a dog would.\nIndeed it behaved very much like a dog, for it would climb up its master's\ncoat and rub its head against him--more like a cat, you will say, in\nthis--and lick his hands. When its master sat down, the bat used to hitch\nitself up to the back of his chair, and it would take flies and insects\nfrom his hand. But I have no doubt he was always a dull pet in the daytime;\nfor it really is his time for sleep, and we cannot change the nature of\nanimals, and ought not to try to do so.\n\nTalking about sleeping, I must not forget to tell you that a bat is like a\ndormouse in one respect: it does not fly away to a warm, country when the\ncold is coming, and the insects are getting scarce, but goes off to sleep\nin a barn, or belfry, or cave, and sleeps on all through the winter,\nneeding neither food nor drink. There are many different kinds of bats\nabout which you can read in Natural History books; one kind eats fruit, not\ninsects. The bat is about the size of a mouse, and feeds its young, as the\nmouse does, with milk. When we were speaking of the animals mentioned in\nthe Bible no one thought of the bat; but it is referred to among the birds\nor winged things, which might not be eaten by the Israelites; also in\nIsaiah ii. we read that in that day when the Lord alone shall be exalted,\n\"a man shall cast his idols of silver and his idols of gold ... to the\nmoles and to the bats\"--for they especially haunt waste and desolate\nplaces.\n\nNow we must leave the Four-handed family, and come to the largest class\namong the Mammalia--the Quadrupeds. As all four-footed animals, no matter\nhow unlike each other they may be in other respects, belong to this family,\nyou may imagine what a very large one it must be. Naturalists have divided\nthe Quadrupeds into different classes, and at the head of them they place\nthe Carnivora, or flesh-eaters, so called because they are beasts of prey,\ncatching birds and smaller animals alive, and eating them.\n\nThe animals of the Cat kind--lions, tigers, panthers, jaguars--are the most\nbeautiful as well as the most dangerous of this class. They have long and\nsharp teeth, and very long claws--five on the forefeet and four on the\nhinder-feet--and these claws are kept sharp by being guarded within a soft\nsheath when not wanted; so that all these cat-like creatures tread very\nsoftly.\n\nYou have often noticed how pussy can stretch out her claws when she wishes\nto climb or to scratch, but you know they are most often hidden within this\nvelvet sheath. If you have ever watched your cat creeping cautiously nearer\nand nearer to her prey, and then suddenly springing upon the poor little\nmouse or bird, you will know exactly how such great and terrible cats as\nlions and tigers spring upon their prey, whether it be a cow or a sheep, a\nman or a child.\n\nOf all of them, none is so fierce as the\n\n  \"Tiger, tiger, burning bright\n  In the forests of the night,\"\n\nwhich is found now in only one quarter of the world--in Asia, especially\nIndia--and is so bold that he will fight with a lion.\n\n[Illustration: TIGER AND CROCODILE--\"THE TUG-OF-WAR.\"]\n\nNo beast has such a beautiful skin; but you may not know that this\nwonderful coat is made for use as well as for beauty. A writer who has\nobserved very carefully says, \"However lovely nature frames or fashions a\nplant or a bird or an animal, it is never for ornament, but for some actual\npurpose or use.\" It is a good thing to bear this in mind, and to try to\nfind out the uses of the beautiful things which you see. The stripes of\nthe tiger are so very like the long grass--taller than a tall man--of the\njungle, is its home, that the hunters, mounted on their trained elephants,\ncannot see him, unless he betrays his hiding-place by some movement.\nTiger-hunting is a very dangerous sport, and many tigers are killed, not in\nthe chase, but by being taken in pitfalls by the natives.\n\nI am sure you know a great deal about the king of beasts, and I need\nnot describe him, since you have probably both seen him and heard his\nterrible voice. Still, we can have little idea, from seeing lions in this\ncountry--very likely born in captivity--how majestic the king is in his\nforest home in Africa. Those who have heard his roar echoing through the\nforest, say that it rolls along like distant thunder, and that when he is\nangry his eyes flash with a gleam almost like lightning. His strength is\nso enormous that one blow of that soft paw, which looks so harmless, will\nbreak the back of a horse, or knock down the strongest man; and he will\ncarry off a young cow as a cat carries off a mouse. Young lions are very\npretty, and as playful as kittens. I have seen a happy family all in one\ncage--a great African lion called Hannibal, with a very royal look; a\nlioness and her four cubs, playing with a retriever pup! The cribs looked\nvery much like big puppies, and had such innocent, gentle little faces,\nthat you would have liked to pat and pet them.\n\nYou will not be surprised to hear that the lion was the one chosen by all\nthe little boys, when they answered their question about animals mentioned\nin the Bible. They all found the story telling how David, when he was a\nshepherd boy, killed both a lion and a bear, when they had taken a lamb\nfrom the flock, and rescued the helpless little creature out of the very\nmouth of the lion--and how he said to King Saul, \"The Lord hath delivered\nme out of the paw of the lion\" [that strong paw which can knock a man\ndown], \"and out of the paw of the bear, He will deliver me out of the hand\nof this Philistine;\" and, strong in the Lord and in the power of His might,\nhe went to meet the boastful giant of whom everyone was afraid.\n\n[Illustration: \"THE LONELY LION LEAVES HIS LONELY LAIR.\"]\n\nI also had references given me to Daniel in the den of lions and to the sad\nstory of the prophet who disobeyed the word of the Lord, and was slain by\na lion. Will you see whether you can find the name of one against whom a\nyoung lion roared? \"And the Spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him, and\nhe rent him as he would have rent a kid, and he had nothing in his hand.\"\nAnd also the name of one of King David's mighty men, who \"went down ... and\nslew a lion in the midst of a pit, in time of snow?\" There are no lions now\nin Palestine, but they were at one time often seen there; they made their\nlair in caves among the mountains, and on the reedy banks of the Jordan.\n\n[Illustration: THE LEOPARD.]\n\nOther wild beasts--which are really great cats--are the beautifully spotted\nPanthers or Leopards of Africa and Asia, the fierce and cunning Jaguar of\nSouth America, and the Puma, sometimes called, without much reason for the\nname, the American lion.\n\nWild cats were once common in England, and it has been thought that our\nhome-cats are their descendants, only tamed; but I believe this is not\ntrue, and that our cats came from the East. It is generally thought that\nthey are not very affectionate animals, or rather that their affections are\nset upon places more than upon people; but they are certainly very fond of\ntheir own kittens, and very proud of them when they first begin to \"walk\nhigh,\" which I suppose answers to a baby's beginning to \"run away.\"\n\nMr. Wood, in _The Boy's Own Book of Natural History_, tells a pretty story\nabout a baker's cat, which was so fond of him, when he was a young man at\ncollege, that she used to come regularly morning and evening to have her\nbreakfast and tea with him. He says, \"She continued her attentions for some\ntime, but one morning she was absent from her accustomed corner, nor did\nshe return till nearly a week had passed, when she came again, but always\nseemed uneasy unless the door were open. A few days afterwards, she came\nup as usual, and jumped on to my knee, at the same time putting a little\nkitten into my hand. She refused to take it back again, so I restored it to\nits brothers and sisters myself. A few hours afterwards, on going into my\nbedroom, I found another black kitten fast asleep on the bed.\" Fancy this\nmother being so anxious to show her kittens, and so sure that her friend\nwould be pleased to find one in his bed!\n\nNext to the Cat family comes that of the Dog, and in this family Wolves,\nJackals, and Foxes are placed, as well as Dogs. I had some texts about\nwolves given me by the boys, but I do not think we shall have time to speak\nof them now. Wolves and jackals and foxes are very much like dogs run wild,\nwhile dogs in many respects are like these wild animals become tame; so\nmuch so, that it is believed that the \"friend of man\" has altered a good\ndeal in the thousands of years during which he has been his constant\ncompanion; he has become less fierce, but has also lost some of the\nindependence which once belonged to him, and is very much behind foxes and\njackals in knowing how to take care of himself and get his own living.\n\nWe ought to treat with great respect and kindness a creature which we have\nin this way made dependent upon us, and one which gives us its affection\nso freely, and is so glad even of a kind word or look from its master or\nmistress.\n\nDogs have a good deal of dignity, and their feelings are very easily hurt.\nPerhaps you think it is saying too much for a doggie to talk of its having\nfeelings that can be hurt, but I assure you dogs _have_ feelings, and very\nkeen ones too.\n\nThe master of a little Skye terrier found that a reproachful word, or a\nlook of displeasure, would make him miserable for a whole day; he never\nthought of such a thing as beating him; but once, when he was away from\nhome, his brother, who did not know the dog, kindly took him out every day\nfor a walk in the park. One day, when he wanted him to come on, he gave him\na blow with his glove. The dog, who had been playing about with a friend\nhe had met, stopped and looked up at him in surprise, as if he would have\nsaid, \"If you knew whose dog I am you would never treat me so,\"--then\nturned and ran away home. Next day he was again taken out by his master's\nbrother, but when they had gone a little way he stopped, looked in his face\nas much as to say, \"You remember what you did?\" and then trotted home; he\ncould never again be induced to go out with the person who had so offended\nhis dignity. This sensitive little Skye could not bear to see anyone hurt,\nand when driving with his master would pull his sleeve, and try to check\nhim every time he touched the horse with his whip.\n\nA little white, curly dog, whom the children knew well, had a great\nobjection to his Saturday bath, and would get out of the way when he saw\nit was coming. Tippoo submitted to be washed when he found there was no\nescape; but a little dog belonging to a lady used to make such a fuss over\nhis weekly bath that at last none of the servants would run the risk of\nbeing bitten and snapped at by him. His mistress tried threatening him,\nthen beating, then keeping him without his dinner; but all was of no use\nuntil she made up her mind to see what taking no notice of him would do.\nThe doggie found it very hard when his dear mistress came home, and he ran\nout with his joyful bark to welcome her, to see her turn her head away from\nhim just when he was longing for a pat or a kind word; and I fancy the\nlady found it hard too, constantly to disappoint all his little efforts to\nattract her attention; but she went on for more than a week, showing her\npet in this way that something was wrong, and there is no doubt at all that\nthe wise little creature knew what it was. He looked very miserable all the\ntime, and at last crept quietly to her side, and, as she says in telling\nthe story, \"gave a look which said as plainly as any spoken words could\nhave done, 'I can stand it no longer; I submit.' Then, after patiently\nbearing the washing, without snapping or fighting, he came in wagging his\ntail with a joyful bark, as much as to say, 'It's all right now'!\"\n\nI am sure you have read or heard accounts of the large Newfoundland dogs;\nof whose courage in saving children who fall into the water, many beautiful\nstories are told; and also of the dear, faithful Collies with their pointed\nnoses, who know all their master's sheep, and will drive them wherever they\nare told to go; and even, when two flocks have got mixed, will separate\nthem with the most wonderful patience and cleverness. A Scotch shepherd,\nwho loved poetry, and made some verses about the skylark, which Sharley and\nMay repeat, tells a story of one of these dogs which I am sure you will\nthink worth remembering.\n\nThe collie's name was Sirrah, and his master prized him greatly. When the\nshepherd first bought him he was scarcely a year old, \"and,\" he says, \"knew\nso little of herding that he had never turned a sheep in his life; but as\nsoon as he discovered that it was his duty to do so, and that it obliged\nme, I can never forget with what anxiety and eagerness he learned his\ndifferent evolutions. He would try every way deliberately, till he found\nout what I wanted him to do, and when I once made him understand a\ndirection he never forgot or mistook it again.\"\n\nSirrah's master once had charge of a flock of seven hundred lambs, and one\nnight the whole flock broke up into three divisions, and ran away in the\ndark, so that the shepherd could not tell where they had gone. The night\nwas so dark that he could not even see Sirrah, much less tell him how to\nfind the lost lambs; but the dog knew exactly what had happened, and had no\ndoubt at all about whose duty it was to get the flock together again. All\nnight long the shepherd sought in vain, not being able even to discover\nwhat direction either of the three flocks of truant lambs had taken; but in\nthe morning he suddenly came upon his dog, guarding the whole flock--all\nthe seven hundred brought back, and not one of them lost.\n\nI have been told that while a trained sheep-dog is so valuable to his\nmaster, and can be so trusted by him, one that has been allowed to grow\nup without any teaching or training is of little worth. The training must\nbegin while the collie is young, and an old hand at it says, \"The first\nthing to learn your pup is to mind at the word.\" From this beginning the\ndog goes on until he seems almost to read his master's thoughts in his\nface, and to watch each movement of his hand and each glance of his eye. Of\none of these dogs his master says:\n\n\"I have known him lie night and day among from ten to twenty pails full of\nmilk, and never once break the cream of one of them with the tip of his\ntongue; nor would he suffer cat, rat, nor any other creature to touch it.\"\n\nSheep-dogs become very much attached to each other, as this story shows.\nTwo Scotch collies were fast friends, going everywhere together until one\nof them died, and was buried on the top of a hill. The other watched the\nspot, and when no one was by, actually scratched at the new-made grave, and\ndug up the body of his comrade. Afterwards, when it had been buried again,\nand heavy stones laid round the place, he still kept watch there, howling\npiteously and eating nothing, until he died upon the grave of the friend he\nhad loved so well.\n\nBut while there are so many beautiful stories of the loving and faithful\nand tender and true ways of dogs, we must not forget that they sometimes\nshow cruel and revengeful tempers, as well as something of that low kind of\ncleverness which tries to deceive, and on account of which the fox has such\na bad name.\n\nOnly the other day I was told about a dog who actually killed a pretty\nlittle kitten from pure jealousy, because he could not bear to see his\nmistress pet and fondle it. _He_ had been the pet for a long time, and\nwhen this new favourite came, he showed his dislike in many ways. One day\nFlossie--the little kitten--was missing, and could nowhere be found. At\nlast, something about the dog's guilty look made his mistress sure that he\nknew better than anyone else what had become of her. So she looked at him\nvery severely, and said, \"Turk, _you_ know where little Flossie is. Show me\ndirectly.\"\n\nTurk walked straight to the waste-paper basket, which was under the table,\nand began to take the paper out, bit by bit. At the bottom of the basket\nlay the poor little furry pet, killed by the dog in a fit of jealousy! How\nsad it is to think what sin has done, how even in the animals it may be\nseen that they belong to a world where the man, whom God made head over\nthem, turned away from Him, and distrusted and disobeyed Him.\n\nBut since I have told you of Turk's cruel jealousy, I must not forget a\nvery pretty story of a dog who saved the life of a kitten which was to have\nbeen drowned. When he saw the poor little thing thrown into the pond, he\nswam after it and brought it back, laying it at the feet of the groom who\nhad thrown it into the water. The man took the helpless creature up and\nthrew it back again, and again the dog rescued it. A third time it was\nthrown into the water, and a third time saved from drowning; but now the\ndog brought it to the opposite side of the pool, carried it home in his\nmouth, and laid it beside the fire to dry. In this case which would you\nrather be like--the man or the dog?\n\nThe children often say that our Tippoo, the little white dog of which I\ntold you, does things \"just like a person\"; he will contentedly eat what\nhe does not care for, because he expects to get something he likes, as a\nreward. If he has been naughty, you can generally know it by his face, and\nhe will hide away under the sofa, until brought out from his refuge, and\nmade to show what he has been doing. He cannot bear to be laughed at;\nnothing hurts his feelings so sorely, unless indeed it be seeing a little\nchild petted: this is almost more than he can bear. But he behaves better\nthan Psyche, another little Maltese terrier of my acquaintance, who used to\nfly at anyone who dared to kiss her mistress. Poor little Psyche's was a\nsad end, for she was killed by a carriage while crossing the street to get\nto her mistress.\n\nDogs have all sorts of ways of making their wants known, but I think you\nwill admit that a little dog called Button was particularly clever in his\nway of doing it, when you hear how he managed. He used to have goat's milk\nfor breakfast, and one morning, when he thought breakfast-time had passed\nwithout any being brought to him, he made up his mind that he had been\nforgotten; so he went to the closet where the china was kept, fetched the\ncup in which his milk was always given him, carried it in his teeth, and\nlaid it down at the feet of the maid who used to milk the goat for him. I\nthink he had earned his breakfast, don't you?\n\n[Illustration: OUR GOAT--\"NAN.\"]\n\nAnother dog, who has a drinking-trough of his own, draws attention to it,\nif it is allowed to go dry by scratching at it, till someone fills it with\nfresh water.\n\nMay knows a very pretty story in verse about a little dog called Music, who\ndid all she could to save a greyhound, Dart, from drowning, when he had\ngone down beneath the ice while trying to cross a frozen river. It must\nhave been a touching thing to see her standing on the broken edge, and\nstretching out her paw, like a hand, to save him, while she as the poem\nsays,\n\n  \"... makes efforts and complainings, nor gives o'er\n  Until her fellow sank, and reappeared no more.\"\n\nFaithful, loving little Music failed to save her friend; but a Scotch dog\nwas the means of saving the life of his master, as he was crossing a river\non the ice. When the crash came, and he sank, he had the presence of mind\nto support himself by means of his gun, which lay across the broken ice.\nThe dog, after making attempts to save his master, seemed to understand\nthat the only thing he could do for him was to leave him, and go in search\nof help. So off he ran to the next village, and pulled at the coat of the\nfirst man he saw, so earnestly, that he got the man to follow him, and was\nin time to save the life of the drowning man.\n\nBut more remarkable still is the story of a strange dog who seems to have\nbeen sent by God to protect a poor miner's house in his absence.\n\nIn a very lonely place in Cornwall, the house of a miner is situated among\nthe rocks. Only he and his wife lived there, and the poor woman was often\nleft alone far into the night, as her husband's work kept him very late.\n\nOne evening a large dog came up the hill to this cottage, and began to make\nhimself at home there, and to make friends with the miner's wife. At first\nshe petted him, but when it began to grow dark, she thought he ought to be\ngoing to his own home, and used every effort to send him away. But the dog\nwould not be turned out, and at last the lonely woman allowed him to stay\nwith her. Late at night, a noise of footsteps was heard, and she ran to\nopen the door, as she thought, to her husband. But the dog sprang past her\ninto the darkness, and she heard the sound of a great struggle, and then\nthe footsteps again passing down the path. The dog presently came back to\nher, but after a time she began to be alarmed lest he should have attacked\nand frightened--perhaps injured--her husband, as he was returning home.\nLighting a lantern, she unbarred the door, and went out into the dark\nnight, still attended by the strange dog, who seemed resolved not to\nleave her. They soon met the miner on his way home, and the dog, far from\nspringing upon him, went up to him, and then--without a word, I was going\nto say--disappeared into the darkness. The miner's wife could never find\nout anything about him, but she felt quite sure that it was God who had\nsent this strange protector to take care of her in her loneliness.\n\nNow this must be nearly our last Dog-story, or we shall never have done,\nfor there is no end to the wonderful tales which are told of the sense\nand kindliness and courage and faithfulness of these creatures who are so\nrightly called the friends of man.\n\nYou remember that wolves, foxes, and jackals are placed in the Dog-family;\nand if you notice the wolves at the Zoological Gardens, you will see in\nhow many respects they resemble dogs. It is when they go about in great\nnumbers, as they do in the east of Europe and Asia, that these animals are\nsuch dreaded foes, and devour so many defenceless sheep and cattle.\n\nDo you not think this a wonderful account of a traveller and a wolf taking\nshelter together in a storm and lying down side by side? It is called\n\n  \"FATHER'S STORY.\n\n  \"'Little one, come to my knee!\n    Hark! how the rain is pouring\n  Over the roof, in the pitch-black night\n    And the wind in the woods is roaring.\n\n  \"'Hush, my darling, and listen;\n    Then pay for the story with kisses;\n  Father was lost in a pitch-black night,\n    In just such a storm as this is!\n\n  \"'High up on the lonely mountains,\n    Where the wild men watched and waited;\n  Wolves in the forest and bears in the bush,\n    And I on my path belated.\n\n  \"'The rain and the night came together\n    Came down, and the wind came after,\n  Bending the props of the pine-tree roof,\n    And snapping many a rafter.\n\n  \"'I crept along in the darkness,\n    Stunned and bruised and blinded,\n  Crept to a fir with thick set boughs,\n    And a sheltering rock behind it.\n\n  \"'There, from the blowing and raining,\n    Crouching, I sought to hide me;\n  Something rustled, two green eyes shone,\n    And a wolf lay down beside me.\n\n  \"'Little one, be not frightened;\n    I and the wolf together,\n  Side by side, through the long, long night,\n    Hid from the awful weather.\n\n  \"'His wet fur pressed against me;\n    Each of us warmed the other;\n  Each of us felt in the stormy dark,\n    That man and beast was brother.\n\n  \"'And when the falling forest\n    No longer crashed in warning,\n  Each of us went from our hiding place\n    Forth in the wild, wet morning.\n\n  \"'Now, darling, kiss me in payment,\n    And hark! how the wind is roaring;\n  Surely home is a better place,\n    When the stormy rain is pouring!'\"\n\nThe Fox, as you know, is found in most parts of England, and in many other\ncountries. He is a sly, clever hunter, living by day in the hole which\nhe hollows out for himself, and prowling about at night, stealing from\nhen-roosts, or pouncing upon some unwary hare or rabbit. The Jackal, which\nis perhaps more like a wolf than a fox, and lives in Africa and parts of\nAsia, is also a great devourer of game and poultry.\n\n[Illustration: A FOX TAKING TO THE WATER.]\n\nThe Arctic-fox, which is found in the far north, is grey during the summer,\nbut turns white as snow in winter, and its coat then becomes so thick as to\ncover even the soles of its feet. It is interesting to notice that those\ncreatures whose home is in the far north are clad in grey or white, for\nanimals which are hunted either as prey or for the sake of their fur, often\ntake the colour of the ground, whether it be covered with snow, as in the\nArctic regions, or brake and heather, as upon the moors and furzy coverts\nwhere our own hares and foxes hide.\n\nNow we come to the bears, which are found all the world over except in\nAfrica. The Brown bear, which is a peaceable creature, feeding on honey or\nfruits, is still met with in the Alps and Pyrenees, as well as in the north\nof Europe, but it has not lived in England since before the Conquest, at a\ntime when wolves were quite common with us; especially in Wales.\n\nThe Grizzly bear is a very different animal; its home is in North America,\nand it will hunt down a man with such determination that it is very much\ndreaded by the fur-hunters. The white or Polar bear belongs entirely to\nthe Arctic regions, so that I have often wondered that the great creature\nwhich looks so innocent as it dives for the bread which is thrown to it by\nvisitors at the Gardens, or plays with its ball in the water, does not die\nduring our hot summer months. I have heard that the reason why the soles\nof its feet are so hairy is because in its northern home it is constantly\ntravelling over icefields, sometimes climbing the lofty bergs--and the\nlong hair prevents it from slipping. If so, this is but one more instance\nshowing how perfectly the animals are fitted for the life which they live\nin their natural state.\n\nAnd now we must pass from this group to another great Division of the\nMammalia--the Herbivorous animals, which live, not on the flesh of birds or\nbeasts, which they hunt for themselves, but upon grass and green things.\n\nIn the first class the Gnawing creatures are placed; you can always know\nthem by their teeth. Perhaps you remember how different the front teeth of\na rabbit are from those long, sharp ones which pussy shows now and then\nwhen she yawns. By constantly gnawing their food, the teeth of squirrels,\nhares, rats, mice, dormice, and all animals called Rodents, or Gnawers,\nwould soon be worn away, but that, unlike our teeth, they never cease\ngrowing while the creature lives. The most interesting of these creatures\nis the Beaver, with its webbed hind feet and broad tail. I hope you will\nsome day read about the mud-built houses, and the clever dams which beavers\nmake across the rivers. Mr. Wood says that when they have been tamed they\nwill still go on building dams across one corner of the room in which they\nare, and collecting boots, brushes, books, all sorts of things, and putting\nthem together industriously; for they still have in captivity the same\ninstinct which teaches them to dam the stream where they build, so that\nthe entrance to their houses may always be below the surface, and never be\nbarred by the ice, during frost.\n\nThe teeth of horses are differently formed from those of the gnawing\nanimals: at the back they are massive, and act like grindstones, crushing\nthe grain which they eat. The Horse-family includes the patient Ass, and\nthe beautifully marked Zebra of South Africa. I need not tell you that all\nthese animals have only one toe, with that hard and strong toe-nail which\nis called the hoof.\n\nThe Ruminants, or animals that chew the cud, are cows, sheep, and goats,\ndeer, giraffes, and camels.\n\nYou have often noticed a Cow when lying down in the field, going on eating,\nalthough she seems to have no food before her. This is because she has\nalready eaten plenty of grass, very fast, and now that she is resting, she\nbrings what she has, as it were, laid up in store, back into her mouth, and\nchews it over again.\n\nI think there are no animals so often mentioned in the Bible as oxen,\nsheep, and lambs, goats and kids; and they are the only creatures, except\nthe turtle dove and the pigeon, which were offered as sacrifices, from the\ntime when Eve's second son brought of the firstlings of his flock, and of\nthe fat thereof, \"and the Lord had respect unto Abel and to his offering.\"\n\nAll creatures that chew the cud have two toes, or are what is called\ncloven-footed. The Camel, whose home is in the dry and thirsty desert, has\nthe power of storing up water, and bringing it back into its mouth for\nseveral days after it has drunk it. This enables it to make long journeys,\nwithout needing a brook by the way. Its feet, too, are just fitted for\nthe sandy wastes which it has to tread. The one-humped camel is found in\nAfrica, and the two-humped, or Bactrian camel, in Asia. The Llama of South\nAmerica is like the camel in some respects, but, as you know, is very much\nsmaller; I knew one which had a disagreeable habit of spitting at those who\ncame to call upon him, and I have read or others doing the same. We read\nof Abraham having camels, and of John the Baptist wearing clothes made of\ncamel's hair, and that King Solomon had deer.\n\nThe beautiful Giraffe, found only in South Africa, is like the camel in\nsome respects, and the deer in others. That long neck which it arches so\ngracefully when you offer it a bun, enables it in its forest-home to feed\nupon the leaves of trees; so you see it is for use, not only for beauty.\n\nThere could hardly be a greater contrast to the giraffe than the Elephant,\nwith its short neck and large body; but what the giraffe can do with its\nlong neck, that, and a great deal more, the elephant can do with the\nwonderful trunk which is his nose, his hand, his trumpet, and we might\nalmost say his mouth, as he could neither reach his food nor drink except\nby its help, his neck being so short.\n\nThere are only two kinds of elephants, the Asiatic and the African, the\nlatter having very large ears, and the former only being tamed; the African\nelephant is hunted merely for the sake of its ivory tusks.\n\nIn a delightful story book, called _Friends in Fur and Feathers_, we had\nall read a very interesting account of a young elephant called Kornegalle\nJack, which became exceedingly attached to his master. I wonder whether\nyou know it? If you do not, perhaps you might have the book for your next\nbirthday present, and read a great deal about elephants, as well as other\nanimals, whose names only we have time, to mention now.\n\nBut you will say, perhaps, that we have forgotten one kind of animal, for\nwe have not said a word about Pigs. Well, Piggie has not been forgotten;\nbut it seems difficult for him to find just his own place among the classes\nof Mammalia, for he is like several of the quadrupeds in some particular,\nbut unlike any one of them altogether. You cannot put him with the\nRuminants, and yet he has cloven feet; he has the same number of teeth as\nthe horse, and his snout is rather like, in a small way, the trunk of the\nelephant; then, in his wild state, he might almost be reckoned among the\nbeasts of prey, for the wild Boar, with its terrible tusks, is a most\nformidable creature to encounter.\n\nOf all the families of the Mammalia, that of Rats and Mice is the most\nnumerous. There are two kinds of rats, the black and the brown. I do not\nknow to which kind Willie's \"Ratto\" belongs, but I have heard many stories\nof his clever tricksy ways, and of how well he knew his name, and obeyed\nhis master.\n\nA rat, however clever, is not an animal which I should care to pet and\ntame; but I know a very interesting story of one which seemed to be the\nmeans of taming a poor man who was so wild and miserable that he cared for\nnobody. This man had been transported for life, for some of his wicked\ndeeds, and he was so savage that even the companions who worked with him\nwere afraid of him, and hardly dared speak to him.\n\nOnce, as he was at work in the woods near Port Philip, felling trees, with\na heavy chain around him lest he should escape, a rat, chased by some\nboys, ran towards him, and nestled inside his shirt. There the frightened\ncreature lay, in its place of refuge, close to that hard heart which cared\nfor no fellow-man; and as the poor lonely convict felt its fluttering, a\nstrange feeling came over him towards the trembling thing which had thus\ntrusted him. He asked leave to keep it as a pet, and from that time the rat\nfollowed its protector everywhere, faithful and loving as a dog; and from\ncaring for his little rescued friend, the man who had been so savage and\nhard, became more gentle, and no longer needed to be chained, and kept\nalmost as if he had been a wild beast. There is a sad ending to this story,\nfor at last the rat was killed by a bough falling upon it, and its death\ncaused such grief to its master that he never spoke again; but I do not\nknow his history to the very end, and I hope that even through seeing the\ngratitude and faithfulness of one of the creatures whom God had made, he\nmay have learnt that the God against whom he had so hardened himself was\nready to forgive and to receive him, for the sake of the Lord Jesus Christ,\nwho came \"to seek and to save that which was lost.\"\n\nWe must not forget the Toothless animals, of which the Ant-eater is the\nbest known. They live upon insects, chiefly white ants, which they catch by\ntearing open their houses with their strong claws, and then rolling their\nlong tongues among them. The tongue of the ant-eater is covered with a kind\nof gum, to which the ants stick, and when there is room for not one more,\nthe living mouthful is swallowed.\n\nPerhaps your cousins in Australia sometimes tell you about the great\nKangaroo, or \"Old man,\" as they call him in that part of the world. By\nmeans of his very long and powerful hind legs, and strong tail, he can leap\ngreat distances, so rapidly as to outstrip a greyhound. There are many\nspecies of kangaroos, but they are all much alike, and belong to the order\nof Pouched animals; so called because instead of rearing her young in a\nnest which she has made for them, the mother carries them in a bag. The\nlittle creatures at their birth are more helpless than most young animals,\nand this pouch is their home for some time, and their refuge in danger,\neven after they have grown beyond the need of her constant care.\n\nAustralia has no animals like those of other parts of the world, except\nthe dog and the bat; but only one of these pouched animals--the Opossum of\nAmerica--is not found there. This creature is very like a monkey, and the\none best known in the southern states of America is about the size of a\ncat, and very mischievous--as it sleeps during the day and prowls about at\nnight, in search of birds, eggs, and fruit. It has the power, which some\nanimals possess, of pretending to be dead, when in danger of being caught;\nand thus it often escapes.\n\nSeals and Whales must also be classed among the Mammalia, although they are\nespecially formed to live in the water.\n\nWhales, though so much like fishes that they used to be classed with them,\nhave warm blood and do not breathe through gills; so they have to come\nto the surface of the water every now and then, in order to get air.\nBy-and-by, when you read more, you will understand how it is that the\nwhale, though it breathes as you do, is able to stay under water as long as\nhalf an hour at a time.\n\nNow, at the end of this long chapter about the Mammalia, let us see what we\nhave been noticing about them.\n\nThey are put first in the Vertebrate Group, though we have spoken of the\nbirds and fishes before them, because they were made on the Fifth Day.\n\nThey are generally--for we must not forget the whale--covered with hair or\nfur, and they feed their young with milk. First of the classes into which\nthe Mammalia are divided, we place the Four-handed creatures--apes and\nmonkeys.\n\nSecond, the Hand-winged; the bats.\n\nThird, the Flesh-eaters; many of them beasts of prey of the Cat-kind and of\nthe Dog-kind.\n\nFourth, the Herbivora; animals which feed upon grasses.\n\nFifth, the Horse-tribe.\n\nSixth, the Ruminants; animals which chew the cud.\n\nSeventh, Elephants.\n\nEighth, the Pig-kind, including the Hippopotamus which is believed to be\nthe creature called Behemoth.\n\nNinth, the Pouched animals.\n\nTenth, Seals, including the Walrus.\n\nEleventh, the Whale-tribe.\n\nIn saying \"good-bye for the present\" to this wide field of interest, shall\nwe make up our minds to observe for our own selves the animals which we see\nevery day, and to notice particularly how beautifully they are formed so as\nto live in the way which is, as we say, suited to their nature; and also to\nread some of the many interesting books on Natural History, where we shall\nfind pictures of the different \"orders\" of animals, and learn all sorts of\ncurious things about their habits?\n\nGod does not tell us what we do not need to know, just how he fed the\nbeasts of prey, and all the flesh-eating creatures which, in their present\nstate, live upon birds or animals which they catch alive; but God does not\nsay either that there was any death in the Garden of Eden, or that the\ncreatures which He had just made, each \"after its kind,\" and all \"very\ngood,\" preyed upon those weaker and smaller than themselves. It has been\nfound that it is possible _now_ for those beasts whose claws are fitted for\ncatching their prey--and their long sharp teeth for tearing to pieces what\nthey have caught--to live upon green things; and we know from the chapter\nwe have been reading together that God at the first gave them \"every green\nherb for meat.\"\n\nPerhaps some of us have already read this beautiful poem in _Scattered\nSeed_, but I will copy it for others who may not know it.\n\n  \"GOD IS LOVE.\n\n  \"All the earth, about us,\n    All the world above,\n  Tell the old sweet story,\n    Whisper, 'God is Love.'\n  Every wayside blossom\n    Lifts its little voice,\n  Every bright-eyed daisy\n    Bids our heart rejoice.\n\n  \"Surging, seething torrent,\n    Bubbling, sparkling spring,\n  Hum of insect nature,\n    Birds upon the wing,\n  Evening's flush of beauty,\n    Morning's streaks of light,\n  Noonday's radiant glory,\n    All in praise unite.\n\n  \"See His kind provision\n    Waving in the grain,\n  Shining in the sunbeams,\n    Falling in the rain;\n  Parching days of summer,\n    Cool the dewy fall,\n  Hoary frost of winter,\n    Sheltering snow o'er all.\n\n  \"Swift o'er trackless region\n    Runs the lurid flash,\n  Sounds from hill to moorland,\n    Deep resounding crash,\n  Towering peak and cranny,\n    Eagles' dizzy height,\n  Dignity and splendour,\n    All reveal His might.\n\n  \"Nature's varied voices\n    Chant the sweet refrain,\n  Echo o'er the mountain,\n    Linger on the plain,\n  Thunder in the ocean,\n    Whisper in the shell,\n  Murmur in the breezes,\n    Sighing in the dell.\n\n  \"Shall our lips be silent?\n    Shall our lives be still?\n  Tune our hearts, O Father,\n    To perform Thy will;\n  Fill our souls with rapture,\n    Fill our hearts with praise,\n  Give us grace to follow\n    Gladly all our days.\"\n\nM. A. E.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SIXTH DAY\n\nTHE CROWN OF GOD'S CREATION.\n\n\n\"_The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given\nme life._\"--JOB xxxiii. 4.\n\n\"_In Him we live, and move, and have our being ... for we are also His\noffspring._\"--ACTS xvii. 28.\n\n\"_I will praise Thee: for I am fearfully and wonderfully made._\"--PSALM\ncxxxix. 14.\n\n\"_Ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body._\"--1 COR.\nvi. 20.\n\n\nBefore we speak of the last work of God upon the last of those wonderful\ndays of which we are told in the first chapter of the Bible, let us read\nthe verses about it, from the twenty-sixth to the end of that chapter, and\nto the tenth verse of the next. And then let us read the eighth Psalm,\nunless indeed you can repeat it, as my little scholars once could--and I\nhope they have not forgotten it now.\n\nI think the first thing we noticed as we read was, that after the verses\nwhich speak of the beasts and creeping things which God made on the SIXTH\nDAY, there is, as it were, a close to the history, and then a fresh\nbeginning.\n\nWe read, \"And God saw that it was good.\" There is a full stop there; and\nagain we read--now for the eighth time--the three words, \"And God said.\"\n\nBut this is not all; a very wonderful expression, which had not been used\nin connection with any part of the work of God, is employed to tell us of\nthe creation of the man who was placed by God as the head of all that He\nhad made, the one to whom He gave dominion, after He had made the earth,\nand brought it all into order.\n\nGod had said, \"Let the waters bring forth.... Let the earth bring forth\"\nliving creatures. \"And God made the beast of the earth\"; but before man was\ncreated He said, \"Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.\"\n\nOf no other creature could it be said that he was made in the likeness of\nGod, and of no other do we read that he was \"formed\" by God \"of the dust of\nthe ground,\" and that the Lord God \"breathed into his nostrils the breath\nof life\"; then, and not till then, did man become a \"living soul.\" The body\nwas made of earth, but the soul came immediately from God.\n\nThe more we learn about our own body, that wonderful and beautiful house in\nwhich we live, the more we shall see, in what God thus formed from the dust\nof the ground, to call forth our admiration; but the body of the first man,\nalthough fashioned with such perfection in all its parts, did not _live_\nuntil God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life.\n\nLet us never forget how great a difference God has put between man, about\nwhose creation He took thought, and who was made in His image, to whom\nHe has given speech, reason, and a deathless soul, and all the creatures\nconcerning which we read none of these things.\n\nAnd now let us learn just a very little about the way in which God has\nformed what His word speaks of as our \"house\" or \"tent\"--the dwelling-place\nof the soul and spirit.\n\nIt would be strange indeed if we did not care to know something about our\nown home; but our body is not only the house in which we live, it is also\nthe means, through those five senses--the eye, the ear, and the organs of\ntouch, taste, and smell--which have been so well called \"the five gateways\nof knowledge,\" by which we learn all that can be known by us of the world\noutside us.\n\nMore than this, it is the wonderfully perfect instrument, and implicitly\nobedient servant, by which all that we do is performed.\n\nBut the science that teaches us all that is known about our bodies is a\nvery difficult study, and there are many hard names to master, even at\nthe very outset. For instance, when we speak of the bony framework--that\nskeleton which, as you know, belongs to us in common with the vertebrate\nanimals--there is a great deal which you would find very difficult to\nremember.\n\nStill, as I daresay you have found out, the more we learn, even of\ndifficult sciences, the more we _can_ learn, and little May (though, to\nbe sure, she is now four years older than she was when you first made her\nacquaintance) _has_ learnt a good many of the hard words. She could show\nyou upon her own round arm, just where the bone which reaches from the\nshoulder to the elbow begins and ends, and tell you its name, and the\nnames of the two bones which reach from the elbow to the wrist, and of the\nwrist-bones, and of those which you can feel in the palm of your hand, and\nthe finger-bones.\n\nBut when you hear that you have more than two hundred bones in your body,\nyou will be inclined to agree with me that it would take both of us some\ntime to learn even their names, much more to know all about them.\n\nThe spine consists of twenty-four short bones, each with a little ring.\nThese vertebras are piled up one upon the other; for God has made our\nbodies upright; our faces, are lifted upwards, and our eyes look straight\nbefore us. These twenty-four little bones are closely and strongly bound\ntogether, and between each one and its neighbour there is something so soft\nand elastic that we can bend our heads, or move in any direction, without\nthe slightest strain or jar.\n\nThe head is most wonderfully built up, like an arch, of several bones\nbeautifully joined in a very strong and perfect way which carpenters call\n\"dove-tailing.\" We can understand why the head, which is so much exposed,\nand is almost entirely occupied by the brain, should be so carefully\nprotected; for thought, memory, will, and what we can best express as\n\"consciousness of our being,\" all depend upon it.\n\nPassing from head to foot, we find that our feet, which are not large, yet\nmust bear the weight of the body, are also made upon the arch-principle,\nwhich has been found, like the hollow bones of the bird's wing, to combine\nlightness and strength. The twenty-six bones are so fitted together that\nthis wonderful arch is quite elastic, as you can prove by moving your own\nfoot up and down.\n\nThe joints, where two bones which are to play upon each other come in\ncontact, as they do at the elbow or shoulder, are made in different ways.\nThe elbow only moves to and fro like a hinge; the hip and shoulder, like\na \"ball and socket,\" move every way. You do not need to be told that each\nkind of joint is found just where it is needed for the work it has to do;\nfor there is no mistaking or misplacing in God's workmanship, as there so\noften is in the very best of _ours_.\n\nI cannot at present tell you anything about the muscles, except that it is\nby their means that we move arms, legs, head, eyes--every part of the body,\nfor bones cannot move of themselves, but are acted on by the muscles.\n\nNor can we learn much about the nerves, because the subject is very\ndifficult to understand. They come from the brain in the head, and from\nthat part of it which runs all down the backbone, through the little bony\nrings of the vertebr\u00e6; and they are protected, because they are so very\ndelicate, and so precious to us, by a strong bony sheath. At first these\nnerves are like coarse twine, but they divide and divide until they become\nas fine as threads of white silk--almost as fine as the stronger part of a\nspider's web--and they go all over the body, reaching to the very tips of\nthe fingers.\n\nThe first pair of nerves goes to the nose, for smell; the second to the\neye, for sight; and so on for hearing and taste. These are the nerves\ncalled \"sensory,\" which carry to the brain sensations from outside the\nbody. The \"motor\" nerves are those which take orders from the brain, to be\ninstantly obeyed by the muscles.\n\nIn the hand, which has twenty-seven bones--one more than the foot--and is\na more wonderful \"tool\" than any which God has given to the lower animals,\nwonderful as _their_ tools are, the sense of touch is stronger than in any\nother part of the body.\n\nSuppose you put your fingers upon something very hot or very cold. \"Quick\nas thought,\" as we say, you draw them away again. But before you did so,\nwhat had happened?\n\nThe nerves at the tip of your finger had sent a telegram straight home to\nthe brain, \"Too hot!\" or \"Too cold!\" and the brain had telegraphed back to\nthe fingers, \"Keep out of the way of it!\" whatever the hot or cold thing\nmay have been.\n\nTo think, even for a moment, of these lightning messages running backwards\nand forwards, to and from the brain, gives us some little idea how very\nwonderful the brain itself must be, and also how God has made one part of\nthe body to depend upon another.\n\nApart from the brain, the ear would be conscious of no sound, whether the\nsoft wash of the waves along the shore, or the mighty roll of the thunder\nthrough the sky. On the other hand, none of these voices could reach the\nbrain if God had not \"planted the ear,\" and formed it so perfectly to\nreceive the waves of sound which, striking upon its delicate little \"drum,\"\ncause it to vibrate, and so are passed on by the nerve which takes messages\nto the brain. For it is the brain which takes charge of every \"impression\"\nconveyed to it by eye, ear, hand, nose, or palate; but _how_ these\nimpressions conveyed to the brain give rise to what we call \"thoughts\" and\n\"ideas\"--this is one of the secret things which belong to God, and of which\nHe has not allowed the wisest man to say, \"Oh yes, I understand all about\nit!\"\n\nAnd there is another secret thing which cannot be explained. The heart has\nbeen called \"the fountain of life,\" because by it the blood, which is the\nlife of the body, is kept in continual motion, and sent to every part. How\nlittle we think of it! But whether we are waking or sleeping, at work or at\nrest, this busy fountain still goes on playing. We may hear the throb of\nit, as it strikes against the chest, in its ceaseless working; and we may\ncount these regular \"beats,\" and find that there are about seventy-five\nof them every minute. It has been calculated that during an ordinarily\nlong life there are three thousand millions of beats without a break. But\nwhat has set this fountain at work? and what keeps it going night and day\nwithout any thought or care of ours, all our life long? Of all this it can\nonly be said, \"We do not know; we cannot find out. God in His wisdom has so\nordered it.\"\n\nMany years ago a doctor, who had observed very carefully, and thought much\nabout what he observed, found out that every time the heart beats, the\nblood rushes from it into a great curved tube called an artery, and so\npasses through tubes which, like the nerves, are constantly becoming finer\nand finer, to every part of the body.\n\nHe also discovered that the blood takes its journey back again to the heart\nby a different road: it does not return through these tubes, but through\nsofter ones, called veins. Thus far he could go, and the story of the\n\"circulation\" of the blood is very interesting; but the _cause_ of the\nheart's perpetual motion, and the blood's continuous flow, this he could\nnot discover.\n\nIs it not wonderful to think that this rapid motion of the fountain within\nus goes on so noiselessly that even a baby whose little heart has only just\nbegun to beat, is not disturbed by it, as he sleeps in his cradle?\n\nTo all the \"higher animals\" God has given both heart and brain. He has\nalso given them, in more or less degree, that mysterious sense of which we\nhave spoken before, and of which we have had so many proofs; a sense which\nis not at all dependent upon reason or intellect, but is found in a less\ndegree in men than in animals to which reason has not been given.\n\nWe have before noticed that by instinct and memory all the wants of the\nbrute creation are met; God has given them all that they need to teach them\nto live, each in its own life, after its kind, and to provide for their\nyoung ones; but He has not given to the \"beasts that perish\" the power of,\nas we sometimes say, \"putting this and that together,\" nor, as far as we\nknow, of learning by experience; although it does seem as if the spiders,\nin making their webs, improve by practice.\n\nInstinct teaches every living thing to get its own food, choosing that\nwhich is suited to itself, and rejecting that which is not. It teaches the\nbird or the insect to seek out a fit place in which to deposit its eggs, or\nto make a nest or \"homie\" for them, even before they are laid; and it can\nteach even such a free creature as a bird to leave for a time its airy\nlife, and to sit patiently upon its eggs, even carefully turning them, as\nif it knew that the life of the unfledged nursling within the shell-wall\ndepended upon its being kept warm.\n\nInstinct leads the butterfly, as we have seen, to lay its eggs upon the\nleaf of the very tree upon which the caterpillar, when hatched, will\nfeed--though its own food has been taken from flowers.\n\nInstinct guides the swallow in its flight, as it leaves us in the autumn\nfor the shores of Africa; and the redwing on its way from its summer home\nin the far North to winter in our warmer country--each arriving in its\nappointed season.\n\n[Illustration: THE SWALLOW.]\n\nAnd so, as we study the habits of birds and beasts, we see how instinct\neverywhere guides and directs them; but what this sense _is_ we cannot\ntell. It has been well remarked, that all that can rightly be said of it\nis, that it is \"a guide which God, in His care for His creatures, has given\nthem, and caused them to obey.\"\n\nWe also noticed in reading these verses that until man was formed, there\nwas no lord over the Creation, but that to Adam God gave dominion over all;\nnothing was expected, and he was owned as head, God Himself bringing the\ncreatures to him that they might receive their names from him, though Adam\nhimself was still under God, and every benefit with which the Creator\nloaded him, only left him so much more bound to own His right over him.\n\nAs God has made us for Himself, He has given to every man, even the rudest\nsavage, something within him which reminds him of One to whom he of right\nbelongs; however far he may have got away from Him, or may have tried to\nsatisfy his conscience--that \"eye of the soul\"--by seeking to please some\nidol-god which he has made for himself.\n\nGod has also given proof of His \"eternal power and Godhead\" by \"the things\nthat are made\"--His glorious works in Creation.\n\nListen to what a Red chief, far away in North America, said to a missionary\nthe other day:--\n\n\"I have long lost faith\"--this was his confession--\"in the old paganism.\nThey know I have not cared for the old religion. I have neglected it. And I\nwill tell you, missionary, why I have not believed in our old paganism for\na long time.\n\n[Illustration: NORTH-AMERICAN INDIANS.]\n\n\"I hear God in the thunder, in the tempest, and in the storm; I see His\npower in the lightning that shivers the trees into kindling-wood; I see His\ngoodness in giving us the moose, the reindeer, the beaver, and the bear;\nI see His loving-kindness in giving us, when the south winds blow, the\nducks and geese; and when the snow and ice melt away, and our lakes and\nrivers are open again, I see how He fills them with fish. I have watched\nthese things for years, and I see how every moon of the year He gives us\nsomething; and He has so arranged it that, if we are only industrious and\ncareful, we can always have something to eat.\n\n\"So, thinking about these things which I had observed, I made up my\nmind years ago that this Great Spirit--so kind and so watchful and so\nloving--did not care for the beating of the conqueror's drum, or the\nshaking of the rattle of the medicine man. So for years I have had no\nreligion.\n\n\"Missionary, what you have said to-day fills my heart, and satisfies my\nlongings. It is just what I have been expecting to hear about the Great\nSpirit. I am glad you have come with this wonderful story; stay as long as\nyou can.\" [Footnote: From _By Canoe and Dog-Train_, p. 119.]\n\nNothing more than the fact that man was made, not like even an angel or\nan archangel, but in the image of God, is needed to show how far beyond\nand above every creature he was; and, as no creature owed so much to the\nCreator, none was responsible to Him in the same way. No one had any right\nover him except the One who had made him for Himself, his Creator, without\nwhom he would not have been.\n\n\"The ox knoweth its owner, and the ass his master's crib.\" (Isa. i. 3.)\n\nGod has made the animals faithful and affectionate, and there are many true\nand touching stories of the way in which they have attached themselves to\nthose who have cared for them. A dog will devote itself to its own master,\nand even give its life for him; but no mere animal has that within him\nwhich can have to say to God and be in relationship with Him. And how sad\nit is to think that the only creature of God who could know Him is the one\nwho has turned away from Him and listened to the spoiler!\n\nAt the beginning God could say of all Creation \"_very good_\"; though\nthere is a wonderful beauty still--beauty everywhere if we have eyes to\nsee it--He cannot say \"_very good_\" where decay, pain, sorrow, death are\nall around; where we grow weak and old, and even while we are young and\nstrong, the most pleasant things tire us; where hatred and envy, shame and\nfear--all the sad feelings brought by sin--exist in the heart of the last\nand best of His creatures, to whom His voice and His presence once brought\nonly joy. \"By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin.\" And\nwho can say how terrible has been the change thus wrought?\n\nSad indeed is the wreck which Satan has made of God's fair Creation, but\na sadder wreck still is the man whom He made upright; and yet the day is\nsurely coming when round and round the throne of \"Him that liveth for ever\nand ever\" shall echo and re-echo the words, \"Thou art worthy, O Lord, to\nreceive glory and honour and power; for Thou hast created all things, and\nfor Thy pleasure they are and were created.\"\n\nGod does not mend things, but replaces what has been spoilt or marred\nby something far better. Even the poor earth, so ruined by sin and its\nconsequences, He will not mend; but He will make \"new heavens and a new\nearth\" (never more to bear the marks of the spoiler's hand) \"wherein\ndwelleth righteousness.\"\n\nBut before the new heavens and new earth are created, a great deal will\ntake place upon this earth of which we have been speaking. The Jews, now\nscattered in every land, will pass through much trouble, the lost tribes\nwill be found and restored, and the Lord will put down all His enemies, and\n\"reign in righteousness\" as King over His once again united people Israel.\nThere will be a thousand years of wonderful peace, and Jerusalem will be\nthe centre of earthly blessing; for He says of it, \"The name of the city\nfrom that day shall be 'Jehovah Shammah' (the Lord is there)\" (Ezek.\nxlviii. 35); and again, \"They shall call thee 'the city of the Lord'\"; and\n\"Thou shalt call thy walls 'Salvation,' and thy gates 'Praise'\" (Isa. lx.\n14-18).\n\nThose who know the Lord Jesus Christ as their Saviour now, will be with Him\nwhen He thus reigns over the earth, for they will be caught up to be with\nHim for ever, before the time of trouble (followed by earthly blessing)\nbegins. In those thousand years of peace even the animals which have so\nlong suffered through man's sin and oppression will share in the rest of\nthat happy time, and God's ancient people Israel, once more dwelling safely\nin their own land, will sing many of the Psalms in His Word for joy and\nhappiness.\n\nThe following hymn speaks of that good time which is surely coming:--\n\n  \"Hail to the Lord's Anointed,\n    Great David's greater Son!\n  Hail, in the time appointed,\n    His reign on earth begun!\n  He comes to break oppression,\n    To set the captive free,\n  To take away transgression,\n    And rule in equity.\n\n  \"He shall come down like showers\n    Upon the fruitful earth,\n  And love, joy, hope, like flowers,\n    Spring in His path to birth;\n  Before Him on the mountains,\n    Shall peace the herald, go,\n  And righteousness in fountains\n    From hill to valley flow.\n\n  \"Kings shall fall down before Him,\n    And gold and incense bring;\n  All nations shall adore Him,\n    His praise all people sing;\n  For He shall have dominion\n    O'er river, sea, and shore,\n  Far as the eagle's pinion\n    Or dove's light wing can soar.\n\n  \"O'er every foe victorious.\n    He on His throne shall rest;\n  From age to age more glorious,\n    All blessing and all-blest;\n  The tide of time shall never\n    His covenant remove;\n  His name shall stand for ever,\n    That name to us is Love.\"","title":"Twilight and Dawn; Or, Simple Talks on the Six Days of Creation","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":111094}