nothing can rob him of a certain dignity of mien, a composure of carriage, and an imperturbability of countenance, which the descendant of a hundred European kings might envy. Nothing moves him, nothing excites his surprise, nothing excites him to merriment. A friend told me that, travelling once in Nova Scotia, he came on an Indian village, where a chief was being installed in office. He was invited to take part in the festivities, and was regaled at a grand banquet composed of one dish. What do you think it was? Conger eel, cut into pieces about four inches long, Indian corn, and molasses; yet the manner in which the chief ladled out this horrible mess from a tin slop-pail was, according to my friend, the most dignified and imposing performance he had ever witnessed since, in days gone by, he had seen a Royal personage presiding at a public dinner. On the other hand, when Lord Aylmer was Governor-General of Canada, he had occasion to receivea deputation of Indians from some remote part of the province. His lordship was a very merry nobleman, and something exceedingly ludicrous in the costume of one of the Sachems happening to strike him, he could not repress a smile. The deputation took no verbal notice of that which they doubtless held to be an insult, but immediately and silently withdrew; nor could they, by any offers of firearms, blankets, beads, or firewater, be induced to return.

And so this Red Man stood grave and immobile, surveying the Falls. His dress was a mean and bastard compromise between the past and the present; but in port and visage he was the same Indian who, with unquivering lip and unfaltering eye, looks upon the dying Wolfe in Benjamin West's picture. There he stood, statuesque and dumb, heeding me not, heeding nothing, seemingly, but his own thoughts. Of what may he have been thinking? Perhaps in this wise: 'All this was once mine. The river and the Falls, the bank and the brake, all belonged to the Red Man. In their bark canoes my fathers shot the rapids more skilfully than the helmsmen of that black boat which puffs smoke from a pipe on its deck, and makes a noise like the whip-poor-will in pain. All this belonged to me, and now I am a vagrant and an outcast, and the white man chaffers with me for the birds I have slain.' Poor copperhued child of the wilderness! Perhaps he was listening for

the flutter of a wing, and keeping a sharp look-out for the blue bird of Canada. I went on my way, and saw him no more.

124. THE POOR RELATION.

There is a worse evil under the sun, and that is a female poor relation. You may do something with the other; you may pass him off tolerably well; but your indigent she-relative is hopeless. He is an old humourist,' you may say, ' and affects to go threadbare. His circumstances are better than folks would take them to be. You are fond of having a character at your table, and truly he is one.' But in the indications of female poverty there can be no disguise. No woman dresses below herself from caprice. The truth must out without shuffling. She is plainly related to the L——s, or what does she at their house!' she is, in all probability, your wife's cousin. Nine times out of ten, at least, this is the case. Her garb is something between a gentlewoman and a beggar, yet the former evidently predominates. She is most provokingly humble, and ostentatiously sensible to her inferiority. He may require to be repressed sometimes-but there is no raising her. You send her soup at dinner, and she begs to be helped after the gentlemen. Mr. requests the honour of taking wine with her; she hesitates between port and madeira, and chooses the former because he does. She calls the servant sir, and insists on not troubling him to hold her plate.. The housekeeper patronises her. The children's governess takes upon her to correct her when she has mistaken the piano for a harpsichord. Charles Lamb.

125. THE RICH RELATION.

What a dignity it gives an old lady, that balance at the banker's! How tenderly we look at her faults, if she is a relative (and may every reader have a score of such); what a kind, good-natured old creature we find her! How the junior partner of Hobbs and Dobbs leads her, smiling, to the carriage with the lozenge upon it, and the fat, wheezy coachman ! How, when she comes to pay us a visit, we generally find an opportunity to let our friends know her station in the world! we say (and with perfect truth) I wish I had Miss Mac Whirler's

signature to a cheque for 5,000l. She wouldn't miss it, says your wife. She is my aunt, say you, in an easy, careless way, when your friend asks if Miss Mac Whirler is any relative. Your wife is perpetually sending her little testimonies of affection; your little girls work endless worsted baskets, cushions, and footstools for her. What a good fire there is in her room when she comes to pay you a visit, although your wife laces her stays without one! The house during her stay assumes a festive, neat, warm, jovial, snug appearance, not visible at other seasons. You yourself, dear sir, forget to go to sleep after dinner, and find yourself all of a sudden (though you invariably lose) very fond of a rubber. What good dinners you havegame every day, malmsey, madeira, and no end of fish from London! Even the servants in the kitchen share in the general prosperity; and somehow during the stay of Miss Mac Whirler's fat coachman the beer is grown much stronger, and the consumption of tea and sugar in the nursery (where her maid takes her meals) is not regarded in the least. Is it so, or is it not so? I appeal to the middle classes. Oh! gracious powers; I wish you would send me an old aunt—a maiden aunt-an aunt with a lozenge on her carriage, and a front of light, coffee-coloured hair; how my children should work workbags for her, and my Julia and I would make her comfortable! Sweet-sweet vision! Foolish-foolish dream!-Thackeray, 'Vanity Fair.

126. PERORATION TO SHERIDAN'S SPEECH IN THE CASE OF WARREN HASTINGS.

Justice, my lords, is not the ineffective bauble of an Indian pagod; it is not the portentous phantom of despair; it is not like any fabled monster, formed in the eclipse of reason, and found in some unhallowed grove of superstitious darkness and political dismay: no, my lords, in the happy reverse of all these. I turn from this disgusting caricature to the real image. Justice I have now before me, august and pure; the abstract idea of all that would be perfect in the spirits and the aspirings of men— where the mind rises, where the heart expands-where the countenance is ever placid and benign-where her favourite attitude is to stoop to the unfortunate-to hear their cry, and to help them, to rescue and relieve, to succour and save; majestic

from its mercy; venerable for its utility; uplifted without pride; firm without obduracy; beneficent in each preference; lovely though in her frown!

On that justice I rely; deliberate and sure, abstracted from all party purpose and political speculations—not in words, but on facts. You, my lords, who hear me, I conjure by those rights it is your best privilege to preserve; by that fame it is your best pleasure to inherit; by all those feelings which refer to the first term in the series of existence, the original compact of our nature--our controlling rank in the creation. This is the call on all to administer to truth and equity, as they would satisfy the laws and satisfy themselves with the most exalted bliss possible or conceivable for our nature—the self-approving consciousness of virtue, when the condemnation we look for will be one of the most ample mercies accomplished for mankind since the creation of the world. My lords, I have done.

127. THE ANT.

When an ant discovers a store of food, it at once sets about spreading the good news among its tribe. But how? That it can communicate ideas by means of its antennæ, mysteriously rubbed against those of its companions, everyone knows; but 'rubbing noses' is, after all, a limited form of utterance, and cannot easily convey many details. How, then, is the insect Columbus to inform his friends of the geographical position of his America? He knows the route himself, and he can carry another ant to the spot. The two then return, and carry two more. The four return, and carry four. And thus in the most regular manner the emigration swells, till, at the end of the twentieth journey, a million of ants will be ready to devour the food. It is noticeable that they always employ this method of transport when they have to do each other a service. Thus Huber, one winter, being desirous of watching their habits, bethought him of attracting them to a particular part of the frame in which he kept them, which was made of glass. For this purpose he warmed that part with a candle-flame, knowing how fond they were of warmth. A few ants were on the spot at the time, and no sooner did they feel the pleasant warmth than they became very animated, brushing their heads and their antennæ

with their fore-feet, and rapidly running about the warm spot. Whenever they approached other ants they 'rubbed noses' with the greatest eagerness, and immediately separated. They seemed desirous of mounting to the second storey, but no sooner did they get beyond the region of warmth than they returned again. At last they seemed to have made up their minds. Away they started for the second storey. Huber guessed that they had departed with the intention of communicating to their companions above the pleasant news that warmth was to be had cheap below. In a few minutes his guess was verified. Two descended carrying two others. These were deposited on the warm spot, and the carriers again ascended to bring down others. The new comers, having warmed themselves, also ascended, and brought down others. This excitement continued, till at last the whole hive had collected in this place. After the spot had become cool, the ants remounted to the second storey; but at any time Huber was able to repeat this interesting experiment, and always with similar success.

In the construction of their galleries, wonderful as that is, most persons see nothing but instinct. Huber observed, however, that if ever a serious mistake was made—when one wall was raised higher than another, for example-one of the ants would destroy the whole, and rebuild it again correctly. It is their conduct towards the bee tribe, however, that most amusingly illustrates their intelligence. The little green insects, mostly wingless, found on the leaves and in the calyx of the rose in great numbers throughout the summer, secrete on the surface of their bodies a sugary fluid, of which the ants are as fond as dainty people are of turtle. The ants find out where the bees 'most do congregate,' and they cunningly wheedle them out of their sugar by the most flattering attentions. A stupid animal would kill such a food-bearing stranger, and kill the goose that laid the golden eggs; but, although their attentions are successful, the ants, thoughtful creatures! do not trust alone to the chance of finding bees: they rear them, as a slave-holder rears niggers! The ants take their eggs into their own nests, rear them with motherly care, and carry them with them in all their migrations. Not only do they rear them, but they have frequent battles with rival tribes on their account; the possession of these eggs is the trophy of conquest.—Darwin.