suration should be carried off by "a working engineer." The prize in chemistry is taken by a "worker in a chemical laboratory," and the same candidate, although completely self-educated, gains the first prize in botany. The best of the candidates, the person who gets the three first prizes, has not been at school for the last four years. The two first prizes in Descriptive and Physical Geography are awarded to a draper. The first prize in English Literature, in which the head master of Rugby examined, is taken by a bank cashier, the second by a timber merchant, and the Oh! what a thing, ye gods, is scorn or pity! Scorn is more grievous than the pains of death; sword. Home. SCOTCHMAN-Characteristics of a. third by a grocer. But the prizes in Latin are perhaps the most astonishing of all: the first prize and first certificate being carried off by a butcher! This classical butcher, however, does not stand alone. Another butcher offered himself for examination in English and French literature, and selected Shakspeare, Spenser, Racine, and Molière as the authors in which His Minerva is born in panoply. You are he desired to be tested. Prof. Creasy, the never admitted to see his ideas in their growth examiner in English History, gives his first-if, indeed, they do grow, and are not rather prize to a bookkeeper, and awards certificates to a printer, a cabinet-maker, a mason, a porter, a spinner, a wool-carder. W. Dilke. SCIENCE-Honour associated with. To me there never has been a higher source of earthly honour or distinction than that connected with advances in science. I have not possessed enough of the eagle in my character to make a direct flight to the loftiest altitudes in the social world; and I certainly never endeavoured to reach those heights by using the creeping powers of the reptile, who, in ascending, generally chooses the dirtiest path, because it is the easiest. Sir Humphrey Davy. SCIENCE-the Safeguard of Religion. Science ever has been, and ever must be, the safeguard of religion. Sir David Brewster. SCIENCES-Strength of the. The strength of all sciences, which consisteth in their harmony, each supporting the other, is as the strength of the old man's fagot in the band; for were it not better for a man in a fair room to set up one great light, or branching candlestick of lights, than to go about with a small watch-candle into every corner? put together upon principles of clock-work. You never catch his mind in an undress. He never hints or suggests anything, but unlades his stock of ideas in perfect order and completeness. He brings his total wealth into company, and gravely unpacks it. His riches are always about him. He never stoops to catch a glittering something in your presence, to share it with you before he quite knows whether it be true touch or not. You cannot cry halves to anything that he finds: he does not find, but bring. You never witness his first apprehension of a thing; his understanding is always at its meridian-you never see the first dawn, the early streaks. He has no faltering of self-suspicion. Surmises, guesses, misgivings, half-intuitions, semi-consciousnesses, partial illuminations, dim in- | stincts, embryo conceptions, have no place in his brain or vocabulary. The twilight of dubiety never falls upon him. Is he orthodox -he has no doubts. Is he an infidel-he has none either. Between the affirmative and the negative there is no border-land with him. You cannot hover with him upon the confines of truth, or wander in the maze of a probable argument. He always keeps the path: you cannot make excursions with him, for he sets you right. His taste never fluctuates, his morality never abates. He cannot compromise or understand middle actions: there can be Ah! can you bear contempt; the venom'd but a right and a wrong. His conversation is tongue Of those whom ruin pleases, the keen sneer, as a book; his affirmations have the sanctity of an oath. You must speak upon the square with him. Above all, you must beware of indirect expressions before a Caledonian. Lamb. 1 The chiselled marble is itself the echo of poetic thought. Of some of these utterances these bodiless emanations, that hang, rainbow-like, about the marble, or breathe, like Memnon's voice, at solemn minglings of light and darkness, to ears that listen-these heartspeakings, that make us feel, through the waste of years, how God has, indeed, “made of one blood all nations of the earth," I could have adventured a few words. But it is needless. It is the grossest possible mistake to call these things mere exhibitions of material beauty. It is too true that the Greek knew nothing of our Christian heaven, nor of the narrow way of self-renouncing faith that leads to it. Does it follow that we are to renounce, for the above incongruities, his marvellous grasp of all that art can give us of grandeur, grace, power, and energy?-of serene enjoyment, silent grief, lightning vigour, or majestic thought? E. Young. SEA-Beauty of the. If mere beauty of appearance is in question, the waters need not yield the palm of loveliness to the land. The deep has its butterflies as well as the air. Fire-flies fit through its billows, as their terrestrial representatives dance and gleam amidst the foliage of a tropical forest. Little living lamps are hung in the waves, and pour out their silvery radiance from vital urns, which are replenished as fast as exhausted. The transparency of some of the inhabitants of the waters gives them an appearance of fairy workmanship which is perfectly enchanting. The Globe SEA. Beroe (Cydippe pileus) resembles a little sphere of the purest ice, about the size of a nutmeg. It is furnished with two long, slender, curving tentacles, each of which bears a number of filaments, twisted in a spiral form along one of its sides. Eight bands are seen to traverse the surface of this animated orb, running from pole to pole like lines of longitude on a terrestrial globe. To these bands are attached a number of little plates, which serve the purpose of paddles; for the creature can work them so as to propel itself through the waters, and either proceed in a straight line, or, like a steam-boat, turn in any direction; or, unlike that vessel, whirl round on its axis and shoot downwards with infinite grace and facility. But, not to dwell upon the beauty of the mechanism, is there not something fascinating in the idea of crystalline creatures? Dr. Robert Vaughan SEA-& Bridegroom. The bridegroom sea SEA-a large Cemetery. Alexander Smith. All The sea is the largest of all cemeteries, and its slumberers sleep without monuments. other graveyards, in all other lands, show some symbol of distinction between the great and small, the rich and poor; but in that ocean cemetery the king and the clown, the prince and the peasant, are alike distinguished. The same waves roll over all, the same requiem by the minstrelsy of the ocean is sung to their honour. Over their remains the same storm beats, and the same sun shines; and there, unmarked, the weak and the powerful, the plumed and the unhonoured, will sleep on until awakened by the same trump, when the sea shall give up its dead. Mantell SEA-named by God. And the gathering together of the waters called He seas, Moses SEA-Eternal Grandeur of the. The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain Sunk friend and foe, with all their wealth and A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, Unchangeable, save to thy wild wave's play; Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow,Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. Thou glorious mirror, where th' Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests, in all time, war; And on thy shores, men of a thousand tribes, Again; beyond her reach, exerting all Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm, And wonder'd more, and felt their littleness. Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime, Self-purifying, unpolluted Sea! Dark-heaving:-boundless, endless, and sub- Lover unchangeable, thy faithful breast lime, Th' image of eternity, the throne Of th' Invisible; even from out thy slime And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy here. Great Ocean! strongest of creation's sons, Loud uttering satire day and night, on each feard'st none, Indignantly, the pride of navies fell; Beyond the arm of help, unheard, unseen, For ever heaving to the lovely moon. SEA-a Type of the Infinite. roll'd; SEA. And Memnon's, too, hath lost the chord That breathed the mystic tone; SEASONS. SEAFARING-Advantages of. To be at sea, withdrawn out of the reach of And the songs at Rome's high triumphs pour'd, innumerable temptations, with opportunity Are with her eagles flown: And mute the Moorish horn, that rang and a turn of mind disposed to observe the wonders of God in the great deep, and with the two noblest objects of sight-the expanded heavens and the expanded ocean-continually in view, and where evident interpositions of Divine Providence in answer to prayer occur almost every day: these are helps to quicken and confirm the life of faith, which, in a good measure, supply to a religious sailor the want Mrs. Hemans. of those advantages which can only be enjoyed upon the shore. John Newton. But thou art swelling on, thou Deep, SEA-Sublimity of the. Sea of Almightiness itself the immense Thou paragon of elemental powers, SEASHORE-adapted for Study. Is it upon the seashore that the student of nature walks? Each rippling wave lays at his feet some tribute from the deep, and tells of wonders indescribable; brings corallines and painted shells, and thousands of grotesque beings, samples left to show that in the sea, through all its spacious realms, life still is found; that creatures there exist more numerously than on the earth itself, all perfect in their construction; and, although so diversified in shape and attributes, alike subservient to the general welfare. Professor Jones SEA-VOYAGE-Reflections on s In travelling by land, there is a continuity of scene, and a connected succession of persons and incidents, that carry on the story of life, and lessen the effect of absence and separation. We drag, it is true, "a lengthening chain" at each remove of our pilgrimage; but the chain is unbroken; we can trace it back link by link; and we feel that the last of them still grapples us to home! But a wide sea-voyage severs us at once. It makes us conscious of being cast loose from the secure anchorage of settled life, and sent adrift upon a doubtful world. It interposes a gulf, not merely ima ginary, but real, between us and our homes, a gulf subject to tempest, and fear, and uncertainty, that makes distance palpable, and return precarious. Washington Irving. SEASONS-Hymn on the. Is full of Thee. The ocean's surfy, slow, deep mellow voice, full of mystery and awe, moanin' over the dead it holds in its bosom, or lullin' them to unbroken slumbers in the chambers of its vasty depths. Haliburton. These, as they change, Almighty Father, these Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles; Examine thine own frailty; 'tis more easy Search not to find what lies too deeply hid, Nor to know things where knowledge is forbid. Denham. SECRETS-Divinely Guarded. Generally he perceived in men of devout simplicity this opinion; that the secrets of nature were the secrets of God,- part of that glory into which man is not to press too boldly. Bacon. SECRETS-Instinct of. We must regard every matter as an intrusted secret, which we believe the person concerned would wish to be considered as such. Nay, further still, we must consider all circumstances as secrets intrusted, which would bring scandal upon another if told, and which it is not our certain duty to discuss, and that in our own persons, and to his face. The divine rule of doing as we would be done by, is never better put to the test than in matters of good and evil speaking. We may sophisticate with ourselves upon the manner in which we should wish to be treated, under many circumstances; but everybody recoils instinctively from the thought of being spoken ill of in his absence. Leigh Hunt. SECRETS-Intrusting of. Trust not him with your secrets who, when left alone in your room, turns over your papers. SECRETS-Keeping of. Lavater. Constantly I see the axiom quoted, as if it were a very excellent lesson in morals, "Never expect another to keep a secret which you cannot keep yourself." The maxim is the concentrated essence of selfishness and falsehood. To receive secrets, to hold them sacredly and use them wisely in intercourse with the depositors, is the highest office of friendship. than your own is one of the surest signs of a The power to keep another's secret better noble nature. The very impulse to confide, the eagerness of the "o'er-fraught heart" to relieve itself, is a suggestion that another will keep the secret for it, and love the more, and not the less. All friendship that is worth the name, is a giving and receiving of confidences. My friend is one to whom I can show myself as I am, without reserve, sure of his sympathy and counsel. If he tells me a secret of his, I will strive to deal with it as he would have me do, if he could enter my mind and regulate my thoughts. If by insight or observation I |