elevation, and the flock, while on the wing, maintain a loud cackling, in which the voices of the two sexes may be easily distinguished. The rate at which they traverse the realms of air, is from forty to fifty miles an hour; and this velocity enables them, with ease, to reach a roosting place, far distant from the grounds which they frequent for the purpose of obtaining food: these are generally extensive open lands, sown with wheat, beans, peas, clover, etc., and they often commit extensive depredations. It has been observed, that the various flocks have each their particular haunts, to which they return, on each ensuing season. Mr. Selby states, that he has himself ascertained this to be the case in Northumberland and the northern parts of Scotland, where the same birds have been known to frequent certain localities for a continued series of years. After feeding, as the evening draws on, the wild geese leave the open grounds, and wing their way to extensive morasses, or to the sea shore, there to rest for the night, often on the water; sometimes, however, they select a ridge, or bar of sand above the water, and at some distance from the main land, where they cannot be approached unawares. Early in the morning they betake themselves to their feeding grounds; and in stormy weather fly much lower than usual, so as to be within range of gunshot. In the spring, the flocks take their departure for the wilds within the arctic circle, where they breed and rear their young. ordained by the Almighty, in the organization and progressive developement of living beings. The bernacle can never become other than it is; still, however, it undergoes in its progress to completion a remarkable metamorphosis, as has been lately demonstrated by a naturalist of high attainments. Bernacles, as we ordinarily see them, are fixed to In days not very far removed, a rocks, stones, large shells, or blocks of species of wild goose, or rather two wood, by means of a fleshy peduncle, species, the bernacle goose, (Anser ber- or wormlike stem; but in the earliest nicla, Flem.,) and the brent goose, (An- periods of their existence, after excluser brenta,) were regarded as originating sion from the egg, they are free, and enfrom the bernacle, a marine cirrhopo- dowed with locomotive organs, enabling dous animal, of which a brief notice will them to move about in the water. In this be found in the Weekly Visitor for No- stage, the young bernacle appears as a small vember 26, 1833, and which is repre- translucent animal, about the tenth of an sented in the annexed figure. How this inch in length; and when resting at the ridiculous notion arose, it is impossible bottom of a basin of sea water, it bears to say, but it prevailed over Europe; considerable resemblance to a very miand in 1636, Gerarde, a man of observ-nute mussel. The shell, covering the ation, published, in his "Herbal," a long account of the wonderful transformation of this curious animal (the Lepas anatifera, Linn. Pentalasmis vitrea, Leach) into a winged and feathered water-fowl; with a personal attestation as to its correctness, a proof of the ignorance of the age, with regard to the philosophy of nature, and to the laws | body, appears to consist of two valves, united by a hinge along the upper part; within these valves, the limbs, when the animal is at rest, are withdrawn; but when moving about, they are protruded; they consist of a large and strong anterior pair, with a sucking disc and hooks, and serve the purpose of attaching the animal to stones or rocks behind these are six pairs of oar-like limbs, which act | into it; or by picking lichens and mosses from the trees, or sides of the rocks. Of the feathered race, a few hardy species still remain in their native wilds, acquiring, in accordance with the diminution of the temperature, a denser plumage, white as the dreary expanse around them. Among these may be noticed the ptarmigan, a tenant of the hills and mountain sides, where it now associates in families, which burrow under the snow, in search of food, such as the leaves of alpine plants, and berries; and also for the sake of warmth and security. But where are the countless hosts of aquatic birds, whose incessant clang resounded among the vast morasses, now icebound and desolate ; or mingled with the noise of the sea, now becoming fixed, solid and motionless? They have all passed to the south, and left their summer haunts for more temperate latitudes; to return again, (directed by unerring Wisdom, when the proper time comes round,) and revisit their retreats; their 66 plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide; But how do the tenants of the sea, the ocean-born animals, the whales, the porpoises, and narwals pass the colder months, tenanting, as they do, the waters of the arctic circle ? Out in the deep, where the open sea bears icebergs floating on its surface, they revel in the enjoyment of abundance. The huge whale, his body enveloped in a dense layer of oily fat, acting both as a protector of the vital organs against the effects of cold, and also, against the pressure to which they would be subject, when he dives fathoms deep below the surface, braves the utmost severity of the cold; and engulfs myriads of the minute tenants of the waters, fitted, like himself, to sustain the same low temperature, and with which the arctic ocean is replete. Of these, one of the most remarkable, is a little mollusc, called the clio borealis. Could we visit the polar regions in May or June, and again at this season of the year, how striking would be the difference perceived, as to the animal population of those wild and dreary wastes. Now they are all lonely, all deserted, save by such as are capable of enduring the rigours of the wintry season, clad in furry garments to defend them from the severity of the cold. The white bear, the wolf, the arctic fox, the glut-This little animal, not more than an ton, the ermine, and the alpine hare, together with the reindeer, and a few more, wander over the plains and hills, on which the snows have already fallen; the carnivorous animals eager for food, and prowling in quest of prey; the others gleaning a scanty subsistence from vegetables, now only to be obtained by scratching away the snow, and by burrowing inch in length, belongs to the pteropodous (wing-limbed) section of the mollusca; it is abundant in the arctic seas, and sometimes is found near our island. In the high latitudes it dwells in shoals, so countless, so extensive, that the surface of the water, for a vast distance, seems alive with them, as they sport and gambol, heedless of their destroyer, who, while he passes through their ranks, opens his enormous jaws and takes in countless numbers at a snap. On such tiny beings is the colossal whale sustained. The clio borealis, (see the annexed figure,) is, in fact, a sort of marine slug, with a pair of winglike fins or oars, attached one to each side of the neck, by means of which the animal rows itself merrily along, and plays amidst the foaming waves, rising or descending at pleasure. These oars are made up of muscular fibres, which pass through the neck from one expanded appendage to the other; so that the organ is, in fact, single, and may be compared, as professor Jones has well remarked, to the double-paddled oar, with which the Greenlander propels and steers his kajac through the seas, which the clio itself navigates. The head the clio is enveloped in a mantle which can be retracted at pleasure, so as to expose the mouth, surrounded by three conical appendages on each side, like fleshy tentacula, which are instruments of prehension: examined by means of a microscope, each of these appendages is seen to be regularly and numerously covered with red points, which, when examined by a lens of great power, are found to be distinct transparent cylinders, sheathing about twenty minute suckers, capable of being protruded, and acting as organs for seizing and retaining prey. It has been calculated, that the total number of these prehensile suckers, upon the head of a single clio, amounts to three hundred and sixty thousand, constituting an apparatus, for prehension, as professor Jones observes, perhaps unparalleled in the creation. Besides these oval appendages, the clio can protrude from its head, even when the mantle is closed, two slender horns or feelers, in order to ascertain the presence of food; and thus informed, it prepares its prehensile in |struments. The mouth of the clio is found to be furnished with a tongue covered with sharp horny spines; and its jaws are provided with pointed horny teeth, set in a fleshy base, and so arranged as to be capable of seizing prey, and dragging it into the mouth. Cuvier regarded the oars of this animal not only as organs of locomotion, but as a respiratory apparatus: the correctness of this view is denied by Eschricht, and we are therefore in ignorance as to the laboratory in which the circulating fluid undergoes its necessary aëration. Much more, in the economy and structure of this mollusc, remains to be cleared up. But we must return from this digression, which will readily be pardoned; for in the slight sketch we have given of the clio borealis, no one can fail to behold the power of the Creator, who, in the minutest, as in the hugest of living beings, displays infinite wisdom, and overwhelms us with wonder and admiration. At this season, the hedgehog retires to hybernate; the squirrel, the little field mouse, (Mus sylvaticus,) and others, hoard up grain, nuts, and acorns, for winter use; and the mole drives its galleries deeper from the surface. The few predatory mammalia, which now inhabit our island, become bolder, as the means of the subsistence diminishes. The fox prowls at night around the barns of the farmer; and the weasel, the stoat, and the polecat enter the henroost, intent upon their feathered victims. Amidst the fading foliage of October, how beautiful is the contrast displayed by our hardy evergreens! Of these let the holly take the first rank. There it stands, with its polished glossy leaves, and its ripening berries, prepared by a wise and bountiful Providence, as the food of so many of the feathered raee, which now find refuge in our latitudes. The ivy, too, now clothing with its luxuriant festoons the naked tree, or the crumbling wall, gives shelter to them during the chilly night; and affords a retreat from the rain and storm. The birds of the air are not left uncared for by Him, who in all his ways and all his works is wisdom and perfection. The instinct which leads some animals now to retire to their repose for the winter; others to hoard up magazines of food; which leads some to leave our shores, and others to visit us; and which teaches all where to find food and shelter,-proclaims the goodness and mercy of God, "IT'S OF NO USE TO TRY." M. "COME, Samuel," said my cousin Frank, when I was quite a little boy, "can you say your lesson? Uncle has ordered the carriage, and we are to start in twenty minutes. whose knowledge is omniscience, and be- | to his requirements, so he made another fore whom not a sparrow falls unnoticed effort to save me from disgrace and to the ground. disappointment. "I know, Samuel," he said, 66 'exactly how you feel, and I will tell you what I should do. I should first wash my hands and face, to refresh myself from past fatigue, and then give my undivided attention, for a few minutes, to the book. Come, my good fellow, try once more, and I am sure you will succeed." Such sound advice and kind encouragement, I could not resist. The refreshing element seemed to charm away my fretfulness and incapacity for application. I resumed my book with good resolution: proceeded upon Frank's well-tried plan, "first study your rule, and then apply it to the case in hand;" and so doing, I soon mastered my difficulty, and accomplished my task. Right glad was I, when the carriage was announced, and uncle inquired, whether Samuel had learned his lesson, to hear Frank reply, “Yes, uncle, he knows it perfectly.' Thinks I to myself, "It is of use to try, and it was only for want of trying that I did not succeed before." This little incident taught me a better lesson than that I learned in the Delectus, and gave me more delightful feelings than even those awakened by taking a day's pleasure with my uncle. Since that time, I have scarcely ever heard the expression made use of, and it not unfrequently proceeds from the lips of persons of a certain cast of character, but my memory has reverted to the incident of my childhood. I have, more than once, repeated it to my young friends, accompanied by some of my good uncle's remarks, offered on that, or on similar occasions. At that time, we were spending some months at my uncle's, and taking daily lessons of a clergyman in the neigh bourhood. To confess the truth, I had got into a negligent, dilatory habit, (Don't let me attempt to throw the blame from myself; but I do think the habit was fostered by the example of my nurse, Mrs. Harris,*) and I had been repeatedly blamed by my tutor for coming to him unprepared with my lessons and exercises. Frank made several kind and friendly efforts to correct these failings in me, I hope not altogether without success, though at the time I felt vexed rather than gratified by his endeavours. On the occasion just referred to, my uncle had proposed taking us for a little pleasurable excursion; but as we should not return till late in the evening, he desired us before we started to prepare our lessons and exercises for the next morning. As soon as breakfast was over, Frank sat down to his studies, and invited me to do the same. I promised to do so almost directly; but observed there was time enough yet, and away I went and amused myself, by throwing stones in the lake, and teaching the Newfoundland puppy to fetch them out. While thus engaged, time passed more rapidly than I was aware, and again I heard Frank's friendly summons, "Come, my good fellow, you had better come in, and do what uncle desired you; and, then, if any time remains, you can go back and play with Cesar." At length I yielded to his persuasions, and placed myself at the table, with my Latin Delectus before me; but I was hot and tired, and my mind was still running after the puppy; so when Frank again invited me to repeat my lesson, and I carelessly attempted to do so, I peevishly exclaimed, "I can't learn it, Frank! and it's of no use to try.' Frank knew that uncle would be firm * Visitor, 1839, p. 144. "I cannot keep awake all sermon time! I assure you, dear sir, I cannot ! and it is of no use to try," said a young female, when gently admonished by my uncle, on the impropriety of her conduct during public worship. "How is it," asked my uncle, "that you keep awake on other days? I have often heard you at the pianoforte for a much longer time than that of public worship; and you seldom discover indications of drowsiness when the afternoon is spent in cheerful conversation or interesting reading." "Well, sir, I really do not know the reason; but I always am sleepy during sermon time, and I cannot shake it off, try how I will." "My dear young friend, let me not offend you, if I question the sincerity of your efforts. I really think, if you went to the house of God with the full expectation of hearing truths, the most important and interesting, and in which your own personal and everlasting welfare is deeply involved, you would find no more difficulty in keeping up a wakeful attention, than you would in reading a letter from a beloved friend, or in any other pursuit fully congenial to your feelings. It is easy to keep the attention to that upon which the heart is fixed." Similar remarks my uncle made to persons who complained of a bad memory, and said they could not help it; it was of no use for them to try to remember what they heard in the house of God. "Can you not," he would say, "recollect an engagement of pleasure? Then your memory is quite capable of retaining recollections of the engagements of duty. Do you forget, as soon as you have heard the particulars of an entertaining story, or the circumstances of a remarkable adventure through which you have passed? It is only to bring home to your own business and bosom the instructions of the sanctuary, or the contents of the sacred volume, and they will be remembered, as they justly claim to be, with as much distinctness and delight.' 66 "I cannot give satisfaction to my employers; it is of no use to try: I am always blamed, do what I will." Such are the frequent complaints of persons in subordinate stations. "Have you learned to obey ?" my uncle would inquire. 'Among all the methods of pleasing, which you say you have tried in vain, have you ever tried this, or if at all, have you tried perseveringly and habitually to do what you are desired, and when you are desired, and as you are desired? If not, do not charge your employers with unreasonableness and caprice, though they are not pleased with you." The footman who usually waited at table, had gone to see his friends, and, in consequence, one of the housemaids was employed to remove the breakfast things. She placed a tray of china, half on and half off a table, near the door, and returned for a pile of plates. These she placed on the outer side of the tray, already almost on balance. 66 This additional weight overset the whole concern with a tremendous dash, which quickly brought Mrs. Rogers and a posse more to see what was the matter. 'Oh, you careless, careless girl!" exclaimed Mrs. Rogers, "how could I think of trusting you with the china?" clucking with her tongue against the roof of her mouth, or groaning forth her unavailing lamentations, as she picked up piece by piece of the broken china, and arrested the flowing stream from the cream pot, which disfigured a yard or more of a handsome new carpet. The author of the mischief stood overwhelmed at the destruction she had occasioned. At length, with sobs that rendered her words almost inarticulate, she replied, "Indeed, ma'am, I was not careless, I minded it all the time; but let me try how I will, I cannot help doing mischief; I am sure I am fated to it; and it is of no use to try." My uncle not fully entering into Mrs. Rogers's distresses and lamentations, though of course not pleased at the waste and destruction of his property, took occasion to correct the foolish notion of the poor girl, and endeavoured to convince her that her misfortunes resulted, not from any fatality, but from her own frequent transgressions of the laws of common sense. "If," said my uncle, 66 you were to stand on one foot at the edge of a precipice, it is more than probable you would fall over, especially if you attempted to hold in your hands a heavy weight: and how could you expect the teaboard to stand when you placed it in just as dangerous a situation ? A heavy body will always weigh down a light one. You know it is so with a pair of scales. For that reason, whenever you set any thing out of your hand, take care that you set it on something solid enough to bear it. If the stand or table is not large enough to take the whole size of the article you wish to place upon it, put the middle of one to the middle of the other, so that the tray, or whatever else it may be, shall project half a foot on each side, rather than a foot on one side. If the tray also is loaded, see that the heaviest part of its load is on the middle. Now mind;" (here my uncle goodnaturedly showed her what he meant ;) "if you had thus placed the tray straight on the middle of the stand, instead of putting it on cornerwise, with one large |