there?" asked, in a magisterial tone, the Beech, from his high station. "You are both equally inquisitive and foolish, and very naturally, for how can anything not quite a year old be otherwise than a baby?"

These ill-advised words were like to have brought on a serious conflict; for all the flowers felt alike insulted, and declared unanimously they would not pass it over unavenged. The Sword Lily, as commandant of the floral standing army, was summoned to his post; the light troops of Aconite put on their golden armour, and the heavy guns of the Stramonium were drawn out. The very partisans of the Foxglove and Strawberry which had called forth the whole insurrection, agreed to unite against the common enemy. Nettles and Thistles, the very reserve of the flower militia, were mustered, and even volunteers invited to join the ranks.

The Rose was the first to turn out, and make ready her sharpest thorns; not the less willingly that she was thought to have a standing grudge against the Trees, because they would not admit her as an equal, though often bearing her flow ers on a right tree-like stem. The feud had been pending from time immemorial, and all the diplomacy of Tree and Flower had been exerted to bring it to an issue-a prominent part in which had been taken by the Guelder Rose, which was fond of claiming kindred with the taller among the roses, and consequently eagerly embraced their cause. These proceedings, unfortunately, were all carried on by word of mouth; thus depriving the world of a mass of documents of inestimable value, after perusal of which it might probably have remained as wise as before.

Nor were the remaining Flowers-who had not, like the Rose, any private ground of quarrel-a whit behindhand in defence of their honour. The Anemone especially made a long speech on floral rights; and the Reed composed and recited a patriotic poem.

The May Lily filled its ample goblet, and volunteered the Suttler's office; and a great body of Flowers assembled as an auxiliary force, and spoke much, and not without enthusiasm, of dying for the general good; and already pictured to themselves in the brightest colours the brilliant part which individually they were to play in the grand floral triumph.

T'he affair meanwhile had become very serious; and if the Trees did not prepare so speedily, it was because to many the contest would be attended with peculiar inconvenience to the Pine-tree, especially, who might thus be branded with falsehood in his late account of the amicable relations between Flower and Leaf. And by degrees the military fervour of at least the greater part among the Flowers cooled down also. They inclined far rather to hear the Rock's narration; so that the efforts of the Bramble and the Whitethorn to mediate a peace found acceptance with all. The Bramble was particularly zealous-counting cousins, somewhat remotely, with the Strawberry, the cause, though the indirect one, of the strife; while the

Whitethorn, occupying a position between Trees and Flowers, was felt to be a peculiarly suitable mediator. The reconciliation, nevertheless, was not easily arranged, as no efforts could persuade the Beech entirely to retract its offensive words. At length, an expedient was fallen on, and the Beech was induced to say, that though he must continue to assert that the Trees were an older family than the Flowers, he was free to confess that the Rocks were older than either; adding at the same time his assurances, that never having intended, throughout the affair, to disparage the Flowers, for whom he had the highest respect, he did not feel as if any apology were necessary.

The Foxglove grumbled a little at this, and the smart Carnation quietly remarked, that it was conceding just nothing at all. But the Flowers generally expressed themselves satisfied, and the business terminated amid renewed assurances of amity and good will.

The Beech's admission had again drawn attention towards the Rock, and the wish to get him to speak revived; while the late tumultuous threatenings of insurrection passed from the memories of all like a fantastic dream.

In what way, however, was the dumb and little companionable Rock to be got at? The Trees would fain have deputed the Brook to ask him, who had boasted of their friendly intimacy, and had first made them aware of the Rock's extent of knowledge. The Flowers again thought they might best gain their object through the Grass, which, by means of its connexion with the Moss, could easily get their wishes communicated to the Rock. This difference of opinion might have endangered the newly-cemented alliance, had not the Brook bethought itself of a middle way.

"Beg of the Fern, which is neither a flower nor a tree, to negociate with the Rock, who will never refuse his most intimate friend, which nestles so close, and spreads itself over him in such a caressing confidential fashion."

"Fern!" asked the flowers, "wilt thou prevail on the Rock ?”

Fern nodded a silent assent: all listened. while the Brook muttered, as if in continuation, something which no one well understood. The trees gave themselves a shake, that they might keep still afterwards, and the flowers popped up their heads above the grass; meantime the Fern had made known to the Rock the general wish, and strangely muffled by the lichens from amil which it issued, sounded his tale as follows:

"Well might the Brook say I was the elder of the forest? I know all about times far beyond those to which your memories can reach! In the stories I have overheard among you, there is a great deal of truth, though here and there corrections may be requisite. "Tis true, as the Poppies have told you, that flowers, one by one, enamelled the ground; and the Pine-tree was right when he described to you the seasons partitioning the earth. But before this, there extended a long weary period, and many a battle had to be fought ere matters were ripe for

that! At the first Creation of the universe, the earth was a huge mighty rock, barren and rugged, but fast and immovable. As it stood, cold in its loneliness, the Creator sent those three potent brethren the Elements, to warm and make fruitful. First came, in his garb of gold and purple, the elder brother Fire. Powerful and uncontrolled, he rushed through the earth, knocking here and digging there, to conquer the stubborn Rock, but in vain; for, let the Fire play on it as it might, the Rock would not give in. And wildly did the battle rage! Now and then would Fire gain a partial victory, and succeed in splitting from the solid mass larger or smaller fragments, and hurling them in token of triumph over the earth; there I and my brethren still lie, scattered without design or order, the trophies of the caprice of an unbridled conqueror. But it was not always that Fire obtained the upper hand; for in the very masses he had thus detached in his fury, the Rock sought and found means first to withstand, and then to make him prisoner, and bind him with strong fetters in his very citadel. That every stone has fire in its keeping you all well know; for when men, who love fire, and have also reduced him to bondage, strike on one with thin steel, out spring the sparks-slight isolated breathings of the great elemental captive. How he still heaves and labours in his central dungeon I will hereafter tell you.

When Fire had thus been vanquished, came forth his younger brother Water, in vest of green, turned up with silver. He was both wiser and more experienced; for not only had he profited by the example of his brothers' defeat, but this misfortune had brought him better acquainted with the character of their common foe. And seeing the Fire had made nothing of open war, he betook himself to negociation. So he laved, and leaped up upon the rocks, flattering and toying with them; now essaying entreaties, now cunning; now resorting, though more rarely, to force.

The earth began now to put on quite another appearance; for Water, occupying all the spaces his brother had already won, soon established himself in their possession. In that wide basin where now Ocean lies, he specially and speedily spread; and as the Rock had at first no objection, Water slily crept up higher and higher, and then put out his strength, and scooped out for himself the valleys, down which run mighty torrents. And while the Rock still took this in good part, and even stooped to lend banks to the new-formed rivers, the encroaching element waxed greedier still, and leaving oft his banks behind, would threaten to wash the mountain base itself away. Rock stood upon his rights at last, however, and spurned the Water back into its bed; but though discomfited, he fell upon a wile to extend and improve his domain. All the light débris, of which by fraud or force he had despoiled the rock, he buried deep within his bosom; and when, after overflowing his banks, compelled to retreat within them, he left behind a mixture of water and rock, which, as a

portion of itself, the tolerant mountain was fain to harbour. Then came the seas and rivers, rocks and plains divided; but as yet, all barren and unfruitful, because on what is grudgingly extorted there cannot rest a blessing.

"Then sent forth the Creator the Elcments' gentle sister Air, in garb of soft pale blue, to help and hallow all. She began by reconciling her brethren with the Rock; and though the latter still refused to give to Fire his liberty, Air gained permission, at her pleasure, to visit her imprisoned brother; and ever as she did so, she brought back with her somewhat of his warmth, and scattered it abroad over the earth. Then first life stirred in its bosom, seeds vegetated and struck roots: but heat alone was powerless, if not noxious: cool waters must assuage and temper it, ere buds could blossom, or vegetation deck the ground. Water was more than willing to assist, but straitened by his banks; so Air hovered caressingly over the other fettered brother, and drawing from his fraternal kisses the moisture they imparted, bore it aloft to pour it over the plains. Then first they felt mild rains, and clothed themselves in verdure; trees and flowers grew, and man and beast could find subsistence.

"So Air continued her alternate visits to her brethren, receiving rich gifts in nature; from Fire his light and heat, from Water fertilizing tempering clouds. And this you may observe still going on. Now Air is seen in all the brilliant hues left with her by her elder's glowing embrace; now in the mourning veil flung over her by her junior in their parting hour. The Fire you behold in morning's radiant flush and evening's ruddy glow; and when Air bids Water sorrowfully adieu, you mark the weeping Mists, and see the cloud sail trooping by. But they, as Water's offspring, cling still fondly to the earth. Air bids her slaves, the Winds, bear them aloft upon their wings; but, pining exiles, they gaze downward in mute woe upon their home, till, dissolved in tears, they reach their mother's lap once more.

"Nor are the fiery particles which Air bears off her willing captives; but when the clouds fling themselves despairingly downward, fire streams with them; the one gently weeping, the other wildly thundering. Thence comes the storm, before which man and beast instinctively quail, yet in which strangely mingle the soft influences of the weeping Cloud with the terrific lightning's glare; while, as in all else in Nature, blessing prevails over judgment, and when Water and Fire have, thus united, reached the ground, Earth teems, revived and refreshed, and all is vitality and vigour,

"What further befel-how the Seasons agreed and quarrelled-how plants arose and grewyou have already heard. We Rocks behold all blooming and smiling around us, and having witnessed the earlier reign of desolation and disorder, cannot but rejoice at the view, even though now lying unnoticed and little honoured on that earth once our unchallenged empire. And here I must observe how idle was the com

plaint of the Foxglove of our forcing ourselves between you; when it is you who daily trespass upon us, and will soon scarcely leave us the lessening space on which it is our sole ambition to lie down in peace."

The Foxglove blushed, and hung down its flower-bells ashamed. The Strawberry tittered unbecomingly behind its broad green leaves, and the Beech murmured something unintelligibly above. The Brook took fright lest the old strife should recommence, and said

"Right thankful are we, grey Elder of the Forest, for your narrative; but there is much yet behind which you have got to tell us." "What is it you would know?" inquired the Rock.

"What Fire, down below in the Earth's core, is about; and whether he submits patiently to his imprisonment?"

"By no manner of means," replied the Rock; "for though his sister's visits amuse his captivity, and console him by the share they afford him in Earth's fruitfulness, he cherishes in secret, not only hopes of liberty, but even perhaps of ultimate dominion. This, however, would be a sad misfortune, and probably bring about the end of all things. And of this both Air and Water are aware, and do their best to prevent Fire from gaining the mastery. When this threatens to be the case, Air comes and kisses her beloved brother, who beneath her caresses glows brighter, clearer, and apparently stronger than before; while the heat she in her case steals from him prevents his burning too powerfully. If alone she finds him unmanageable, she calls in Water; and after an often desperate struggle, Fire is at length overpowered. Then he sits him down, in pretended quiet, in his rocky cave, deep in the bowels of the earth, beguiling his captivity with many a sportive pastime.

"Now would he roast and then melt the rocks about him, colouring the mixture with dyes from his own glowing fiery robes, and so make gold. Then would he borrow of the Waters, dripping from their fissures their lighter hues, and paint the paler silver. From the very Rock, his jailor, he would continue to purloin some of his dusky reddish coating to lend its dingy hue to his manufacture of Iron. Now none of them, as you may suppose, proved any very great blessing. Gold and silver are proverbially deceitful things, however men in their folly crave and seek after them; and as for Iron, chiefly concocted before Rocks and Fields were on such friendly terms as now, it readily lent its aid to root up and disturb the latter; while rough, unfriendly, and discontented ever-spite of its obligations to the Rocks-it is more disinclined to pierce us to the heart. As for the fields, perhaps the damage done to them by iron, may be compensated by the greater fruitfulness that follows. But we Rocks can hardly bear to see Earth's goodly breast so cruelly maltreated; and when the iron is holding its remorseless way, we often interpose to receive the shock and turn the plough aside.

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Gold, Silver, and Iron were already made, and Fire grew quite tired of dabbling always in the same colours; so he begged Air, next time she came, to bring him some from Earth; and she collected Flowers and Grasses for him. It was but little of either she could carry; but with the Grass's green, and the fairest hues expressed from the light petals wafted to him, Fire dyed bright Gems, and hardened them in his furnace; so that in those far depths of Earth which you perhaps suppose consigned to gloom and darkness, all is splendour and brilliancy-the walls hung round with precious Stones, the Deep's gay garlands, and the Rock's bright eyes. But if it happens-as it will-in Fire's workshop, that a drop of colour overflows, or even the painter washes his pencil, dipt in hue of gold or silver, or tints more precious still, thence come treacherous Mica, deceptive Ores, fictitious Gems, to lure and mock the finder; of which, as my friend the Brook has told you, Puck weaves mimic rainbows."

"But we have never seen Air carry away any of our sisters," said the Tulip, with an incredulous shake of the head.

"Because," replied the Rock, "you did not pay attention. Just observe, for once, the evening sky, and see how it is lit up with tints which never could have belonged to itself. There glows the pink of the Rose, and the yellow of the Crocus, and the purple of the Violet, and the bright deep red of the Poppy over all-in short a thousand hues too numerous for words. Now it is not every afternoon, but only now and then, you see this wonderful com bination of distinct, yet melting tints; and then be sure it is a wreath of flowers which Air bears in her hand to her imprisoned brother.

"Distance no doubt prevents you, while you view the colours, from distinguishing your individual sisters; but if you had asked your hearts, they would have told you that it was so: for do they not draw you powerfully, though perhaps unconsciously, when you all turn your heads, in longing recognition, towards your fleeting sisterhood? Your feelings, had you listened to them, would have taught you this ere now. All you creatures of earth, however, in this resemble mankind, that you will not believe that love to be the best which you might seek in vain for ever from the understanding, but which the heart is prompt to whisper still!"

"But what does Fire do with the Flowers," inquired Forget-me-not, "when he has robbed them of their radiant hues ?"

"He stores them, colourless, but bright and undecaying, in rocky clefts-their starry foliage turned to shining crystals."

The Rock stood silent till the Oak put in his word

"Forgive me if what I fain would ask annoys you, and be sure it never could be my intention to offend or wound one so wise and deeply skilled in ancient lore. But being, as I am, next oldest in the Forest to yourself, and showing, as I do, your two good gifts of strength and durability, I may be said to have a right to

your confidence. Now all are brethren here in the wood. We have an object amid our vicissitudes; we grow, and we bloom, and we bear fruit, each after our several fashion. You Rocks, however, lie unaltered-ever the same, and on the self-same spot. Is this not (excuse me) at once monotonous and melancholy?"

"You too are just like mankind," said the Rock, half jesting, half incensed; "you look upon your doings as of first-rate importance; and on yourselves as the whole object and centre of creation. You grow, and you blow, and you bear fruit; and pray what do you make of it? You wither and die, and are forgotten. Time stretches his hand over the spot where you stood, and your every trace is blotted out. Each one of you is a mere drop in Nature's ocean, unmarked save by himself, and who knows not why he exists. Which of us can, indeed? But I at least never weary, let me remain ever so long unheeded; for under my rough outside I bear a feeling heart, and mark the changes all around. Many thousands of years have rolled over me, and no day among them like the last. Meantime, lying, as I do, with my ear to the ground, I hold converse through earth's depths with distant | Rocks, who tell me of spots on its surface of wondrous beauty, forming bright episodes in the live-long tale which Nature is for ever weaving for her playmate Earth."

Aye!" assented the Pine-tree," there are, indeed, glorious spots in the world, as my cousin has told me, who, you remember, enjoyed great opportunities while roaming as a ship's mast."

"Oh, to be sure!" exclaimed the Aspen, scoffingly, "regions all snow and ice, where your friend Winter keeps the earth and people on it alike imprisoned !"

"Your restless fluttering must have lost you half my story," said the Pine, leisurely, "else you would have been aware that there are spots wholly the domain of Summer; where Winter never intrudes, where trees are ever green, and flowers spread a perennial carpet; where the waters are never arrested by ice, and which snow only visits as a colder kiss than usual from the clouds."

"Ah!" exclaimed several Flowers at once, "could we but see those favoured regions!"

"I am on the way to do so," said the Brook, somewhat proudly; and leaping higher, and running faster at the very thought, I hasten to join the River, and it falls into the Sea, which surely will bear me with it to those lovely lands."

"In the meantime," said the Rock, "Ill tell you more about them, for of one at least of those privileged and renowned spots of earth I have authentic information:

"At the time when Water was concluding his treaty of peace with us Rocks, he scooped himself out a lovely Bay, and the Mountains bowed themselves in a circle like a crown around it. This Bay was the Sea's favourite retreat; and it invited Air to come thither and breathe her nchest influences over these lovely shores.

Dip thy foot in my cooling wave,' whispered Ocean to the confiding Mountain. ' And I will crown thy summit with bright garlands,' murmured Air, and spread a flowery carpet around thy knees.' And I again' (resumed Water), * when thus embellished, will hold up a mirror to thy beauties, that thou mayest behold them, and their reflected image shall adorn my bosom.' And so it was; the gently curving Shore flung its golden bow round the lovely Wave, and the Mountain looked down smiling on the scene.

Now one day that Air was visiting her brother Fire, she began to tell him about this favourite haunt of Water's, where he would dream his brightest, happiest hours away."

"Could I not manage to see it?" inquired Fire, eagerly.

"Leave me to sound the Rock about it," replied Air.

Rock was by good luck in an unwonted complying humour, and at this very spot-thanks to the civilities Air and Water had shown him— peculiarly easy to deal with, so that our argument was soon concluded. Rock consented to open, at the summit of the Mountain in which impatient Fire was imprisoned, a window, through which he might look out when so inclined, provided Water would allow a Rock to rise distinctly in the midst of it, to keep watch on his proceedings. Just over against the Bay, at the opening of its circle to admit the Water, rises a conical mount, looking down on one side on the gulf, and on the other on the open sea beyond. What I am telling you I had from this Rock itself.

"Right opposite to it, on the main land, is Fire's observatory. By day, when light sheds its clear beams over the earth, the smoke alone is visible, which he puffs forth in clouds. But when night comes, Fire thrusts up his flaming head out of his attic window, and illumines the darkness with the lightning of his eyes; while he evidently enjoys his freedom, and plays many a fantastic trick: he often nods in a familiar way to my friend the Rock, who would return the compliment, were he not so fast anchored in the sea. And ever since the opening of Fire's window, the shores of the Bay have grown more and more lovely. Fire was too much of a gentleman to enjoy the sight of its beauties without contributing something towards them, and scattered his sparks far and wide over the coast. Some of them fell on the verdant trees, kept fast hold of their shining boughs, and instead of going out, these sparks turned into golden fruit, glowing as when they left their native furnace. To this day (so the Rock tells me), do these same Trees grow red fire-apples (some call them oranges). And perennially glowing is this fiery produce; for as at every season the Trees wear alike their coat of dark, but shining green, so do these fire-born fruits adorn their twigs throughout the year."

"But do these wonderful fruits never bear blossoms?" inquired the Apple Tree.

"That do they, like a shower of soft and fragrant snow. The same branch carries fruit and

flowers, and the scent of the blossom mingles with the flavour of the fruit. But there is one spot on this favoured coast more richly fruitclad still. 'Tis when the mountains tread more closely on the strand, and raise their summits, crowned with orange groves, interwoven with a net-work of the long streaming tendrils of the Vine.

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Fire, meantime, looks out from the mountain, rejoicing over his gifts. The Sea whispers its mysterious lays to the strand, and fringes its margin with the whitest and lightest of foam. The Mountain towers over the scene, and Air waves its soft mantle over all. The sweet perfume of the Orange-blossom pervades it; the Spirit of the Water reigns there, and invites Earth's denizens to bathe them in the tepid flood. Each evening, when Air paints the western sky with her parting hues, she decks the mountain too with roseate draperies, that make her look as though she were the Sea's blushing bride. Each night does Fire hang forth from his stronghold brilliant streams, gold-grounded and embroidered over with precious stones. Then do Fire's flames and Ocean's waters together hold their pastime-the red glow now hiding itself beneath the wave, now peeping forth, hither and thither, broken by the trembling of the surf. All this my friend the Rock beholds, who bears himself a crown of vine-leaves, and

bolts to keep them fast. What passes there is known only to the Elements themselves, and to my friend the Rock, who harbours them. But he is pledged to secrecy, and keeps his pledge." "That is right," said the Rose; "I like him for it. Is he, too, fond of flowers?"

"Roses at least he loves, surrounded as he is by a perpetual Spring," replied the Rock. "How lovely that must be!" sighed forth the flowery Queen.

"And all this I am bound to see!" gladly repeated the Brook.

"Then fail not to carry greetings from us to the roses on the mountain!" cried all the flowers together.

And from us to the Orange Trees on the shore," murmured the Trees.

"But how shall I know the spot?" inquired the Brook of his neighbour Rock.

"From my description," was the answer. "But Men call the Bay that of Naples, and in their language, my friend the Rock is known by the name of Capri."

"Oh, I shall find them!" cried the Brook, and ran plashing on. But it had a long way to travel, and a great while to wander in the inmensity of the Sea, ere it beheld the wonderful sights described in its neighbour Rock's story.

The narrator of this tale stood in Sorrento on

the verandah of a little villa on the shore, of

"On the Rock's outermost margin, towards the open Sea, there opens a long entrance, scarcely perceptible to man; behind it, however, expands a lofty, high-domed, ever cool cave, where, united though apart, Fire, Water, and Air, may meet together. Water fixed here a mirror for her ever restless wave; but Air's deep blue, clear as the brightest skies afford, finds access too; while the reflection of the Fire plays, brilliant and wonderful, yet lambently over all; quenched as it were by Air's soft veil, and wavering in the shimmer of the waves. Now does Air seem to monopolize the lofty dome, as Water does the depths below; but ever in motion, they give place at times to Fire, leaping and licking with his forked tongue the rocky bases of the cavern.

"So do the Elements hold their secret converse, yet granting at times to mortals the privilege of being present at the conclave: these build them skiffs, row in and behold these marvels, then sail forth beneath the bright blue sky, admire the radiance of the imprisoned fire, and bathe them in the glancing waters. But when the talk of the brotherhood grows strictly confidential, these intruders are excluded. Then Ocean closes with her heavy booming portals the narrow entrance, and Air sends the winds with their

smiled invitingly forth from the ever-green foliage. Vesuvius sent forth its smoky pillar, and the Waves told their unceasing tale. One Wave, however, leaped up kindly on the rocks with a decided homeish sound. It was that which bore from its far birth-place the message of the trees and flowers. The brook had at length fulfilled its mission; but though fraught with greetings to the children of Nature, it brought alas! to the Bard no tidings of those dear to him.

THE POWER OF SONG. (For Music.)

BY CHARLES H. HITCHINGS,

E'en as of old Amphion's tuneful string
Made walls and turrets to his verse upspring,
So in our hearts the poet's simple lays
Bulwarks of Beauty and of Truth may raise;
Whose walls, impregnable and pure, may dare
The shafts of sin-the darts of wild despair.

And e'en as Orpheus, with his silvery song,
Drew to his music stubborn brutes along,
So in our hearts the poet's power may draw
In mute obedience to harmonious law
Our passions wild-and with celestial lays
Our grovelling senses to Elysium raise.