ACCOUNT OF A CARNATION VIEWED
THROUGH A MICROSCOPE.

FROM an elegant bouquet I selected a carnation, the fragrance of which led me to enjoy it frequently and near. The sense of smelling was not the only one affected on these occasions: while that was satiated with the powerful sweet, the ear was constantly attacked by an extremely soft but agreeable murmuring sound. It was easy to know that some animal within the covert must be the musician, and that the noise must come from some little creature suited to produce it. I instantly distended the lower part of the flower, and, placing it in a full light, could discover troops of little insects frisking with wild jollity among the narrow pedestals that supported its leaves, and the little threads that occupied its centre. What a fragrant world for their habitation! What a perfect security from all annoyance in the dusky husk that surrounded the scene of action.

Adapting a microscope to take in at one view the whole of the base of the flower, I gave myself an opportunity of contemplating what they were about, and this for many days together, without giving them the least disturbance. Thus I could discover their economy, their passions, and their enjoyments. The microscope, on this occasion, had given what Nature seemed to have denied to the objects of contemplation. The base of the flower extended itself under its influence to a vast plain; the slender stems of the leaves became trunks of so many stately cedars; the threads in the middle seemed columns of massy structure, supporting at the top their several ornaments; and the narrower spaces between were enlarged into walks, parterres, and terraces. On the polished bottoms of these, brighter than Parian marble, walked in pairs, alone, or in larger companies, the winged inhabitants; these, from little dusky flies, for such only the naked eye would have shown them, were raised to glorious glittering animals, stained with living purple, and with a glossy gold, that would have made all the labours of the loom contemptible in comparison. I could at leisure, as they walked together, admire their elegant limbs, their velvet shoulders, and their silken wings; their

backs vying with the empyrean in its blue; and their eyes each formed of a thousand others, outglittering the little planes on a brilliant, above description, and almost too great for admiration. I could observe them here singling out their favourite females, courting them with the music of their buzzing wings, with little songs formed for their little organs, leading them from walk to walk among the perfumed shades, and pointing out to their taste the drop of liquid nectar just bursting from some vein within the living trunk. Here were the perfumed groves, the more than myrtle shades of the poet's fancy realized. Here the happy lovers spent their days in joyful dalliance; or, in the triumph of their little hearts, skipped after one another from stem to stem among the painted trees; or winged their short flight to the close shadow of some broader leaf, to revel undisturbed in the heights of all felicity.

Sir John Hill.

THE leaf of the mulberry tree in time becomes

satin.

HAPPINESS.

. HAPPINESS has no localities, No tones provincial, no peculiar garb; Where duty went, she went; with justice went; And went with meekness, charity, and love. Where'er a tear was dried, a wounded heart Bound up, a bruised spirit with the dew Of sympathy anointed, or a pang Of honest suffering soothed, or injury Repeated oft, as oft by love forgiven,— Where'er an evil passion was subdued, Or virtue's feeble embers fann'd-where'er A sin was heartily abjured and left,— Where'er a pious act was done, or breathed A pious prayer, or wish'd a pious wish,— There was a high and holy place, a spot Of sacred light, a most religious fane, Where Happiness descending sat and smiled.

Pollok.

EVENING.

EVENING, When the busy scenes of our existence are withdrawn, when the sun descending leaves the world to silence, and to the soothing influence of twilight,— has ever been a favourite portion of the day with the wise and good of all nations. There appears to be shed over the universal face of nature at this period a calmness and tranquillity, a peace and sanctity, as it were, which almost insensibly steals into the breast of man, and disposes him to solitude and meditation. He naturally compares the decline of light and animation with that which attaches to the lot of humanity; and the evening of day and the evening of life become deeply assimilated in his mind. It is an association from which, where vice and guilt have not hardened the heart, the most beneficial result has ever been experienced. It is one which, while it forcibly suggests to us the transient tenure of our being here, teaches us at the