such a variety of form? Throughout the whole realm of nature, there never were found two things exactly alike; neither leaves, trees, flowers, fruit, stones, animals, birds, nor fishes; and what is still more striking, not two human countenances! Of all the millions that live or ever have lived upon the face of the earth, no two faces were ever seen in which there was not something different, something peculiar, which distinguished one from the other, however extraordinary the resemblance might appear."

"This fact tells of the existence of God; but to my fancy it teaches of something else also. It teaches Charity."

66

Charity! how can it teach that?"

"When I reflect upon this variety in the external world and see the same variety extending to the minds, tastes and feelings of individuals, it occurs to me that it never could have been the design of the Almighty to make all men think alike. They cannot, and they never will in this world. It is not possible for them to do so; and for this reason I think we ought not to be bigoted and positive in our own views, and angry with others, who, equally earnest and sincere in seeking for the truth may yet see things differently to ourselves."

"Do you think this accounts for the variety of religious sects all over the world?"

"I think it does, mainly; Christians, Bible Christians, who build their faith upon the same foundation, may differ upon minor points which are not so clearly explained; each taking that view of the subject which the peculiar bias of his mind leads him to regard as the right one. And I believe that all, though different, may be accepted by God,

"who judgeth not as man judgeth." "One man esteemeth one day above another: another esteemeth every day alike. Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind." I think if the spirit of that beautiful chapter, Romans xiv., were more studied than it is, there would be less misunderstanding upon the constantly recurring question-" What is truth?" Many are the silent lessons offered to us by the flowers of the fields, as Mrs. Barbauld so beautifully saysEvery leaf is an open book, every painted flower hath a lesson written on its leaves." While we were speaking of the Daisy just now, I saw Fanny pick one to pieces, and she seemed to be examining it very attentively. What were you thinking of, Fanny?"

66

"I was thinking," replied Fanny, "how neatly and prettily it was made; every little white petal tipped with rose-colour so delicately, and the dark green calyx under so nicely cut and ornamented; it looked as if such great pains had been taken to make it.”

"And what did you learn from that, Fanny?"

"I don't know, but it made me think how great God is." "So it should, my love; but there is still another lesson written on its leaves. It tells us of the perfection of God. Examine the lowliest flower that you meet with, and you find it faultless. You could not wish it otherwise, or fancy a single alteration that could improve it in its particular style, whether that style be simplicity, gaiety, modesty, gentleness, or any other that it may seem to characterise. Nothing could add to its grace. And as to fitness, what exquisite arrangements we discover to supply all its little How perfect the machinery, even when too minute

wants.

I

to be perceived without a microscope. The mind of man could never have conceived, far less have accomplished the organisation of one of these little ones. I cannot observe all this without being reminded what perfection our God, that same Maker, must require of us, His reasonable creatures. To such a Being, the very essence of harmony, purity, and benevolence, how offensive must be the spectacle of anger, malice, strivings, envyings, vanity, and pride! How these hideous sins must mar, even in the sight of angels, the order of God's creation; and how much more in His, before whom the very heavens are not clean!"

CHAPTER XIV.

WHEN round Thy wondrous works below
My searching rapturous glance I throw,
Tracing out Wisdom, Power, and Love,
In earth or sky, in stream or grove;

When with dear friends sweet talk I hold,
And all the flowers of life unfold;
Let not my heart within me burn,
Except in all I Thee discern.

CHRISTIAN YEAR.

BOTANY had now become an all-absorbing delight to the young Hamiltons. Dora's latent energies seemed to have been kindled suddenly into action, and her old malady, ennui, forgotten in the engrossing interest of the new pursuit; and she acknowledged herself to Miss Vaughan, that not one of her charming romances had ever banished the enemy so effectually, or at least for so long a period. Having once applied her mind earnestly to the subject, her naturally clear and retentive memory easily mastered the technical difficulties, which at first sight appeared formidable; and with every fresh conquest her enjoyment increased. Mary's abilities were not so great as those of her sister, but she had an abundant share of emulation, which in a great measure made up for the deficiency; and with Dora's ever ready help, she succeeded in keeping pace with her pretty equally. Even little Fanny had gained a very creditable share of scientific knowledge for so young a child. Miss Vaughan did not like her memory

to be taxed at present with the Linnæan system, but she had learned to distinguish readily nearly all the natural orders; and she could tell not only the names of most of the wild flowers she met with, but also much that was interesting concerning their habits, uses and relations to other productions of nature, etc. And all this knowledge had been acquired without the aid of books; simply by conversation. While her sisters were rambling here and there, filling their tin cases with specimens to be studied at leisure, Fanny used to bring her flowers to Miss Vaughan to hear a story about it, as she termed it. The flowers were then carefully preserved, to be taken with her when she went into the dining-room after dinner, where her privilege was to relate the said stories again to her papa. Her punishment when she had been very very naughty, was to be deprived of the flowers, before going down stairs, a punishment so great as to be very seldom inflicted. One day, Fanny's attention was attracted by a great number of small insects, which covered the stem and leaves of one of her flowers. She ran to shew it to Miss Vaughan.

"Can this be a Catchfly Campion, Miss Vaughan? I think it must belong to the genus of Campion, though the flowers are very small. The stalk is so hairy and sticky, that the poor insects which alight on it cannot get away again. Just see what a number of prisoners are caught here!"

"Ah, you have found the Silene Anglica, the English Catchfly. It is a less common species than the Bladder Campion, and, as you say, much more deserving its name, Catchfly."