1- GIVE ME THREE GRAINS or court, MOTHER.†nf‘nms. A. m. EDMOND. BROOKLIN. , [The above words were the last words of an i Irish led to his mother, as he was dying of starvation. She found three grains in a corner of his ragged jacket and gave them to him, it was all he had, the whole family were perish- ing from famine] Give me three grains of corn, mother. - Only three grains of corn, It will keep the little life 1 have Till the coming of the mom. I am dying of hunger and cold, mother, Dying- of hunger and cold. And half the agony of such a death, My lips have never told. It has gnawed like a Wolf at my heart mother, A wolf that is ï¬erce for blood, All the liveloitg day. and the night beside, Gnawing for lack of food. I dreamed of bread in my sleep, mother, v ‘ And the sight was heaven to see ; I woke with an eagre famishing lip, But you had no bread for me, How could I look to you, mother, How could I look to you. ' For bread to give your starving boy, VVhon you are starving too ? For I read the famine in your cheek, And in your eye so wild, And I felt it in your bony hand As you laid it on your child. The Queen has land and gold, mother, The Queen has land and god, “’ltile you are forced to your empty breast A skeleton child to hold â€" _ A babe that is dying of want, mother, As I am dying now “’ith a ghastly look in in: sunken eye, And famine upon its brow. \Vhat has poor lroland done, mother, ’ \Vhat has poor Ireland done. That the World looks on and sees us starve, l’erjshing one by one ? Do the men of England care not, mother, The great men and the high, For the suffering sons of I‘Iiin’s lslo, \Vlicthor they live or die? There is many a brave heart there. mother, D} ing 01‘ Want and cold, \Vhilo only across the channel, mother, Arc many that rolled in gold. There are rich and proud men there, mother, With wondorous wealth to view, And the bread they fling to their dogs to- night, “’ould give me life and you I (Tome nearer to my side mother, mother, Come nearer to my side, And hold me fondly as you held My father when lie died. Quick, for I cannot see your mother, lily breath is almost gone, Motlrrr ! dear mother ! ere I die. Give me three grains of corn ! litt‘tlllltl‘. .“ l J ‘ll Fâ€"l warren it}. 3v 'ruu aurnon or “ASHLEY.†I. Continued. A middle-sized comfortable room in a' country house was growing dusk and dim in the Autumn twilight. The lhrgc blazingï¬rc liud faded down to r'c’d embers, having rendered the atmbsphcre unpleasantly warm, and a lady scath in a lounging chair had ' pu'Shcd it quite back, so that she was in the shade both from the light and ith‘cï¬i‘c. A look of pcrplcxity, of care,sat on her face, youngr and‘lovc- ly. thought it was. and oven “in her hands, as they lay listless on her lap,’thcre was an air of abandon- (Delft. Her thoughts were buried in a painfulretrospect; the retrospect of only“'_the two months past: they had brought grief to licrâ€"-as the Sumâ€" mer did to the unhappy girl told of carpenters, decorators: the old say- . ingo house, you never get them out,’. seemed to hold true in this instance. for here was October come, and': Kattcrlcy Lodge was as far off bcingf in thc,‘ Banks of Allen \Vatcrs.’ . You cannot have forgotten her. It was Clara Lake, and this paper Will. close her history. The world, in its .hard, matter-of-fact reality. laughs at such histories, but it has to witness such from its nooks and corners, laugh or not laugh. - Find any' one told her, the previ- ous August, when she came over to Guild Farm for a two days’ visit th but 'of months, she would have dis- believed them. Nevertheless, things had so turned out, all easily and naturally, as it seemed to look upon as it seemed to her, was tracing its events. The two days visit had passed dc- lightfully, and Mrs. Chester prosss .ed them to remain to the end of the week. tra-ry: the reader must judge) came to ‘Mr. Lake before it was over. They had contemplated making al- terations in their house at I‘Iattcrlov: _ two of the rooms were to be enlarg- ‘cd, and the whole repaired, p and embellished. Mr. Lake pro- posed that it should be set about then instead of deferred till course. sub rosa, for Mrs. Chester had a dliIlCLtliy in making both ends muchâ€"They would not be abovea expedient, for - .month about the alterations worked well, was Mr. Lake‘so on,=and his wife acquiesced, for Chester pressed it eagcrlv. » know nothing of workmen; ’ r $ ., . . , “1 formation Was true. the VlSlt would not be one of days | A happyidca for the 0011- the air struck muted Nothing very dreadful, taking in the Spring, and shrubbcry that they should remain his sisters she had guests while it was done, paying of when. AURORA V ALEX. SC OTT, Proprietor. AND RICHM v 0ND HILL ADV QCATE AND ADVERTISER. “ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us than Popular Opinion.†Vol. 11. N0. %6-. l ‘ If once you get them into a ready for their reception as over. It would have been a very'slight grievance indeed, under ordinary; circumstances; but there wins onc‘ inhabiting it with them, wro was rendering it insupportablc to Clara. Lake. It was Angeline, Lady Ellis: Young, goodâ€"lookng, exacting, living but in admiration, and nott scrupulous how she ()lJtttlllCtl it prO-. l vidcd she got it, she had cast “or; basilisk oycs, the first hour she mctl him on the careless, attractch Frch crick Lake; one of those men, wife or no wife, who are evcr ready to meet. such admiration more than half way. A flirtation Wits plunged into, prcity deep on both sidcs, and for at uho'e month it ncvcr gnvc Mrs. Lake a care or a thought. f r slic was accustomed to sec her husband’s ’ admiration givini to others, but uovcï¬r yet had a possibility crossed her mind that he could give more than admira- tion, for she believed his love was iicrs; licrs only; to bc hcrs forever. lmpcrccptibly, she could not rc~ mcmbcr when it. first nrosc a shade. of annoyance of vcxation stolc upon licr, for the flirtation (Wc have to call it that. for vtant of a hotter name) grow into scntimcnt, if not to patsSlUll; and also to concealment -â€"~a bad sign, the lattcr. And now that Uctobcr has come in. and pass- ing, Clara Lake’s wholc inward life was one scene of pain, of wild joul- ousy, prcying upon her Vcl'y licartâ€" strings. She had loved her linsband with all fcrvot‘ tho ofa doci‘dv imagin- ativc'naturc, and she had liclicvcd in him with tho pcrfcct. trusliugncs of a rz-lincd unsuspicions English girl. She sat in her chair thct‘c, drawn away from the heat of the fire; but what was that heat, compared to the heat, the inward fever that raged within her? ‘ if it could but ciid,’ l she murmured, ‘if we could but gr} to our home at Kattcrlcy 1’ Mr. Lake had gone over by the train, that aftcrimon, to Soc how it was progressing and sltc wondci‘cd he was not back; Lady Ellis had dis- appeared after dinner; Mrs. Chester was in the nursery, \Vlict‘c so had :1 drossmnkcr at work, making frocks for her children; for she had to prac- tice various littlc ins and outs 0 economy; so that Mrs Lake had the room to lichclf. A young girl came in, Funny Chester, and Mrs. Litkc roused licr- sclf. o'lad perhaps of the interruption to her thoughts. ‘ls momma in the nursery still dear 'l’ ‘ Uncle Fred is Fauny.’ ‘ Yes he is. I saw him from the window with Lady Ellis, ever so long ago. They were going towards the sliruhbcry. \Vill you please reach me one of those old news- papers up thcrc ? Mamma scnt me not back vct might open and bury her alive, rath- er than she should be seen. He was toying with one of her hands; they were closc enough to Mrs. Lake to see that in the dark; and his tones were low and tender â€"-the same tones which had been 'given to her before their marriage, and which had won her heart for over. What he was saying, she. could not in her agitation tell, but as they were passing her, going from the house, not to it. Lady Ellis-l spoke. ‘ Frederick, it is getting dark and cold.’ Frederick! And his wife listen- ing ! lt might have made no (lifIi:l'-l cncc had Lady Ellis known that. "l’hc dark won’t hurt you.’ he softly said. ‘Arc you not with me l’ ‘But it is damp also. Indeed, sinch returned from lndia,l fccl house, entered by the glass doors. The ï¬re was nearly out; it wanted . stirring and replenishing; she never saw it, never noticed it, but crept up stairs to her own room. We can- not follow her; for you may not doubt that the quarter of an hour she stopped in it, she had need to be alone, away from the prying. eyes of man. ’l‘lio'warm light came out from the open nursery door as she emerg- ed again, and she went in. Mrs. Chester was running the slate colorâ€" ed linen to the skirt of a black frock, and Miss Cooper sat at the same table, equally busy. She was the sister of the young man who had driven the train the night of the acâ€" cident inAugust; was like him,steady and well-conducted, and many ladies employed her at their houses by day. ‘ Is it you. Clara 1’ exclaimed Mrs. Chester. ‘1 shall be down in an in- both the cold and the damp very much.’ Sic spoke in a timid gentle tone: as different from her natural toncs, as different from those she used to any one but him, as can Wcll be im- agined. That she had set l]Cl‘St:ll out to gain his love, to trample upon his wife’s feelings, to outrage her affections, was a sure fact. How far Lady Ellis contemplated going. or Mr. Lake either, and what they may have anticipated would be the final upshot, how or where it Was to end, was best known to themselves; let it he with them. ‘ There’s a shawl of yours, I think Angelina, in tlic summer-house. Sit you here while I got it. He actually placed her on the bench close to where his wifc was standing: thcv touched each other within an inch or two. Clara drcw in her breath, and wrshcd the earth Would open. llc came swinging back with it; a warm, grey woolen shawl. ‘ All right, Angeline. Don‘t you rcmcm- ber throwing it off last. cvcning when we were there: I noticed that you lclt it. Now be quict.\-l’ll wrap you up.’ She had risen, and he put the shawl upon her, carrying it over her head, and making her sit down again while he ‘ ï¬xed’ it. so that only her face was visible, pinning it. under her chin: with such caroâ€"â€"ohl with such care. . ‘ You are felting as much trouldc as though we were going to stop out - till midnight,’ laughed Indy Ellis. ‘ \Vhat will yr ur wife think.†‘Shc doscn’t know I am And if she did: what then? you can’t feel the cold now" ‘ No, I don’t think I can.’ ‘ But what am I to have pains 2’ She did not answer. And Fred- erick Lake. lifting the handsome fth to his, kissed it passiotiat.cly.â€"-‘My dearest !’ lic Softly whispered. They moved away. lie with his arm round her: possibly to keep the shawl in its place. And Mrs. L'tkc buck. T he re: for m V for it: she wants to cut a pattorn.’ Giving the child the i'icwspupct‘ shc asked for, and watched her from the room, Mrs. Lake drew to the Window and loiikcd out, her heart bcatpig rebelliously. So! he was back, “over so long ago,’ and solac- ing hiinsclf wiih the sweet com- panionship of Lady Ellis! An im- pulse, a wild impulse which she Cullltl not restrain, led her to open the glass doors and step out into the dusky twilight, willing to see with llOl' own eyes whether the cliild’sin- Had she given icrsclf a moment’s time for collecâ€" tion she probably would not have gone, for she was of a highly hon- ourable nature, and the very idea of bml‘ being a spy, cvcn upon her rccrcant “0W SlW husband, is abhorrent to such. lied she ever tollowcd them before? No. Though she know there had bccn‘ stolen interview upon interview. It was a raw, foggy evening, and ‘ upon her with a clnll as she came out of the heated room. What cared she? Had she been. plunged into a bath of ice, she would not have felt it then. Well, what did she ï¬nd or sec?I abstract, but quite enough to fan the jealous indignatton of a wife. The appeared to be empty, and glided half way down it, from a cross opening, she caught the sound of advancing foot-, stops and voices. Retreat was not she must pass the , if they opening, and might encounter them pint- and she darted into an alcove, behind Mrs. the bench which rang along its front. stolc from her hiding corner and hastened to the farm; had any onc' been near. they might have heard a low wail, as ofa breaking heart,- llllll come forth and mingled with the inclement evening air. Sonic writcr remarksâ€"and I think it is Bulwcr, in his ‘Studont’â€"â€"tliat, to the vulgar there is but one infi-1 delity in love. It is perfectly true: but I think the word ‘ vulgar’ is there misplaced; unless we may apply it to all. whether inmates of the palace or the cottage, whose temperament is not ofthc ultrareï¬ncd. Ultra-rc- ftncd, mind ! they of the scllslll‘.’c,f proud, impassionatc nature, whosc inward life, its thoughts, its Workâ€" tugs, can never be betrayed to the world, any more than they them~ sclvcs can be understood by it. Thcv are hardly ï¬t to dwell on this earth to battle with its sins and its cares: for their spirit is more oxalth than is well; it may he said, more ethnic! aliscd; the gold too highly l‘Cï¬titltl,‘ remember, is not adapted for gono- ral use That the broad, vulgar idca conveyed by the world inlidcli-= ty is not their infidelity, is very ccr- taiu. It is the unfaithfulncss of the spirit, the wanderingr of the heart’s truth to another, that constitutes in- fidelity for them: and where such comes, it shatters the heart’s lifc, as .cffcctually as a blast of lightning shatters the tree it fails on. This was the inï¬delity that wrought the misery of Clara Lake: that other inï¬delity, whether it was, or was not to have place, she barely glanced at; her husband’s love had left her for another, and what mattered _ He She had not bargained to get so near builders, them, and almost hoped the earth ought else 7. She- returned, shiverinv a, to the stunt. Is tea on the table 2’ ‘ Iâ€"I don’t know. I have been in my room,’ replied Mrs. Lake, sitting in a low chair close to the ï¬re. A light quick footstep was heard on the stairs, and Frederick Lake dashed in, a gay smile on his hand- some face. ‘ Pretty housekeepers you are l the ï¬rc’s out, down stairs.’ ‘ The ï¬re out 1’ uttered Mrs. Ches- ter, in consternation. ‘ Clara, dear, what have you been thinking of? you should have rung. Where’s ' Lady Ellis 1 what will she say of my housekeepingl Fanny, run and tell ,onc of them to see to it. So you have got back Frcd,’ she added to her brother. ‘ Safe and sound,’ was his rcs- ponsc. ‘And how are you by this time, Clara l’ cried he, as, standing between her and the table, be bent down to the low chair where she sat, land kissed hct‘ forehead. It was a cold kissâ€":1 careless mat. tcr-ofâ€"coursc sort of a kiss, a to ma- trimony. She made no answering rCSponse, but the hot crimson dyed her checks, as she contrasted it with certain other kisses bestowed by him on somebody else not long before; they were passionate enough: rath- er too much 50. Had he noticed, he might have seen his wife press her hand sharply on her bosom; as ’lf she might be trying to hide its tu- yllllllllltltls throbbing. ‘And how docs the house get on Fred l’ nskcd Mrs. Chester. ‘ Slower than ever. You’ll have ' ing to the present lookâ€"out.’ ' I hope I shall ; although Clara’ â€"turning towards herâ€"‘ does seem in u fidgct 10 get back.’ Clara seemed in a ï¬dget about nothing, just then ; she was sitting l l I cast down. Frederick Lake rattled out his own fashion, beginning up- lon tho drossmakcr now. ‘ What’s that you are cutting out?’ i a pair of pantuloons for me P’ ‘ it’s a pair of sleeves, sir.’ ‘ Uh, slccvcs; I feared they'd hardly be large enough. By the way, nothing has been done yet. about your brother, one way or the I other.’ ‘ No, sir. It is very hard.’ i Lakeâ€"‘ strange there should be this contradiction about the lights. ;â€"â€"Each side is so positive.’ ’ ‘I am quite certain, sir, ; Matthew would not say what was untrue, oven to save himself: tlicrc- lforc, when he says it was only the Igreen light that was up, I know it ' was the green.’ ‘ Ricciselv the same thing that I 1tell everybody. [have unlimited faith in Coopcr.’ l ‘ And there’s Colonel West to ‘ bear out what he says, sir, you know. The colonel would not say the grc 3n light was up, if it was not.’ ‘ No. But then, again, Oliver .Iupp and the station people main- tained it was red. For my part, I think there must have been a little ; conjuring going on.-llavc you been are .P’ .out for a walk to-day, Cl l ‘ No.’ i ‘ You might have come back and taken her, put in Mrs. Chester. ‘Ludy Ellis did not have her walk Ito-day, failing you. Have you but ljnst got back? Why, no, of course not: the train must have been in more than an hour ago : and there’s no other till eight o'clock.’ ‘ Oh, they put a special on for me,’ returned Mr. Lake. ‘ Don’t be stupid, Fred.’ rctortcd Mrs. Cltcstcr.-â€"‘ You must have been back some time.‘ ‘I'Iave it your own way, Pouc- pe, and perhaps you‘ll llo RICHMOND HILL, FRIDAY, MAY 25, 1860. l l us fill Christmas, Penelope, accord- further, an unusually l l .- ‘It is very strange,’ returned Mr. "f lhc songs 0f “‘0 bll’ds- l 3."? mm A .â€"\ . »\/~c»~_.â€"\/ TERMS: $1 50 In Advance} longer.’ ‘ Uncle Fred, you know you were back a long while ago. You stop- ped in the shrubbory with Lady Ellis.= He looked over the table at the little speaker, caught hold of her by the waist, and swung her round. ‘ That’s the way you see ghosts, is it, Miss Fanny? Take care you don’t see them when you are in bed at nigh). How could you see me in the shrubberv, ifI was not there ?’ ‘ Be quiet, uncle Fred : put me down.--Miss‘ Cooper, the tea is ready in the kitchen, and they are waiting for you. And, mamma, the ï¬re’s burning up in the parlor, and the tea’s carried in.’ In a few moments the only ocâ€" cupants of the nursery were Fred- erick Lake and his wife. He he- gan Speaking of the progress of their house ; or rather the non-pro- gressâ€"Mrs. Lakeâ€"the one dread- ful certainty giving rise to other suspicionsâ€"uy'vondcrcd whether he had bribed the men to retard it, ‘ Seriously speaking, Clara, I do think we shan’t get back before Christmas.’ She had determined upon saying something: what she hardly know. But when she tried to speak, she could not ; the violent agitation she was in impeded her utterance. She looked up at him, and opened her lips, but no words come ; her threat was heaving, her breath panting. To be Continued. TllAlTS OF SONG BIRDS. A gentleman of my acquaintance ' had an American mocking-bird in such health and vigor, that it was constantly singing, or else imitatingl the various sounds it heard. In or- der to try the powers of this bird, the owner purchased a ï¬ne sky-lurk. thu placed in the same room with the mocking-bird, the song of the former was heard to echo through the house, as if it wcue chanting ‘on fluttering wing’ its well known welcome to the rising sun. The mocking bird was silent for some time, but at last broke forth in the strains of ‘thc aerial songster,’ but louder and clearer, as if mounting and stretching its wings towards licavtsn. The lark was silent that moment. nor was a joyous notc ever heard afterward. Willing to test the powers of the mockingbird still large price was givcn for a. black bird, ecle- brated for its vocal powers. It was: placed in the some room with the mockingâ€"bird. Early on the second morning its song was resumed, and its charming notes was warblcd ! perfectly still, her face, and her oyesl forth with “all the sweetness and modalaion which may be heard in its native ‘ thorny brakes.’ Thei mockingbird listened and was silent for a time, when all at once its notes were heard to issue forth, but loud- ‘they do not trouble us in the exer- lprove no plcasurc’to her to listen to .scribos for papers, and never pays or and sweeter than those of the woodland sonsgster. The poor black bird heard them, felt that it was conquered, remained silent. droopcd, pined, and died. From the above facts, emulation would seem to be one of the exciting causes When their powers are excelled, they ap- pear to feel disgrace at being con- quered, and to loose all inclinations thatlto renew their former effortsâ€"- Jesos’ Country Life. THE MOTHER Mounns THE MAN. -â€"â€"That it is the mother who moulds the man is a sentiment beautifully illustrath by the following recorded observation of a shrewd writer :â€" Vthn I lived among the Choctaw Indians, I held a consultation with one of their principal men, in regard lto their progress in the arts of civil- izcd life: and among other things he informed me that at the start they fell into a great mistake they only sent boys to school. These boys tame homo intelligent men, but they married uneducated and uncivilizcd wives ; and the uniform result was, the children were all like their metlicrs. The father Soon lost all his interest in both Wtfc and children ; and now, said be, ‘if we would educate but one class of our children, we would chose the girls, for when they become moâ€" thers they educate their sons.’â€"â€"â€" This is the point, and it is free.â€" No nation can become fully onâ€" lightened when mothers are not in a good degree qualiï¬ed to discharge the duties of the education. DiCE.â€"-â€"’l‘he best tin-0w with the dice home work of livc lllcl is to throw them away. Whole No. ’78. GltATUlTOUS CONCERT. IMPORTANT Norton! .â€" Translated from Le Semeur Canadian 04' 11th inst. by MASTER W. G. FALCONBRIDGE , for the “York Herald.†.___ There will be a gratuitous con- cert in every village of Vermont, during the summer, at the rising of the sun ; it will last about an hour. All persons, old or young. supposed capable of enjoying the amusement, are cordially invited to assist. and to give ear to the magniï¬cent concert which we propose to give them. 'All that we demand as an ack- nowledgment of our services, is that they leave us in the peaceablc possession of our premises, and that cise of our art. The little boy who threw a stone at Mr. Robin Red- breast, and came near breaking his neck, “ had better stop " at home ; we do not desire to see him at our concert. The big boy who, the other day, robbed Mrs. Linnet of her eggs and nest, had better not come, but help his mother to sweep out the kitchen ; he will only be reâ€" garded as a troublesome guest. The man who threw a stick at Mrs. Swallow, who was picking up some worms in her garden for her young ones, had better mind that his vege- tables are not destroyed by cater- pillars and worms; this will cause us more pleasure than his presence at the concert. The little girl who got into bad temper the other day, and looked sulkv at her mother bo- causc. the latter wished her to wash her face, had better be obstreperous at home ; our concert was not made to amuse her. The large girl who passes the greater part of her time in making and re-makmg dresses, for the purpose of display. ing at balls, and other pleasure- parties, while her poor sick mother wastes away her life for the sus- tenance of her family, and not to see her children scattered, may rest aSsured that herabscnce Will cause us no pain; our concert would not be suited to her nature, and it would the simple harmony of melody without art. Also, the man who spends two dollars a-week to pro- cure tobacco, rum, and other use- less articles, and neglects to pay that which he legitimately ought the odor of his fetid breath would fatigue us exceedingly, and we re- spectfully beg that he will keep at a little distance. The man who sub- for them, had better seek for music where he is able to ï¬nd it; we neither wish to sing for him, nor for gold, nor silver. The young man who tlic other day did not wish to omit: his purse strings fora poor woman, who had five little children, and a drunken husband to maintain, ’ had better stop in bed, go a-ï¬shing, or do something else which will bring him pleasure, we will not seek his company. If he is only willing to pay a little less attention to his own comfort, and a little more to the wants and sufferings of humanity, we will receive him at our concerts with the greatest joy. There will be reserved seats for those, who live in such a manner that the cries of a culpable consci- ence may not be able to disturb in them the harmony of the song.â€" The public are requested to remem- ber that the ï¬rst ray of the dawn- ing day is announced by our most melodious strains. Thc subscribers ï¬gure in the choir :-â€"â€"Mr. Red- brcast, Mrs. Linnct, Mrs. Swallow, Mr. Jav. STATISTICAL INTELLIGENCE. well grounded statistics prove that the number of persons who succumb annually to the effects of alcohol amounts in England to 50,000, in Russia 10,000; the life of those unfortunate beings is one of aggravated suffering. Spiritous liquors powerfully afv feet the glands of the mouth and of the stomach, their secretions be- coming cxceedingly abundant.â€"â€"â€" Sensibility is ï¬nally blunted, and the taste so much injured that it is a frequent occurrence, to see a man pass from the use of weak to strong drinks, and ultimately dis- tinguish no taste in pure alcohol and in bitters, Under the action of those fatal liquors, the mucous membrane har- dens, the tissues, the brain and the never system, so wonderfully ramiâ€" ï¬od over the whole body become, disorganized, and the individual .bling of the limbs, loss of vital power. impotence; the body loses, 'its erect form, the head turns grey.: and at forty all the traces of age ap-, pear. ‘Alcohol.’ says Liebig, ‘ by its action on the nerves, is like a‘ contracts a morbid habit which soon, assumes a, chronic form. At this. period all the effects of this disease become. visible; there is a trem-. note drawn on the health of the la-. bourcr, and which he must always renew in default of means to pay it. He thus inevitably brings on the bankruptcy of his health.’ One of the most ordinary re-. sults of the abuse of alcohol is: paralysis. l have somewhere road that a carpenter, enjoying excellent health and of a robust frame, but who had contracted tho irvlill habit ofdrinking; large quantities .i' brandy, was at-. tacked at i‘ o .2311: ol’thirtyâ€"ï¬vc years. with a pttl‘itl} sis of the tongue ; the words he pronounced were unin- telligible. A low months after this. ï¬rst accident he lost the use of his. right arm, and death ï¬nally fol-, lowed on paralysis of the brain. Such are the consequences of the abuse of alcoholic liquors. To. those above described, and which attack the body, are to be added in a parallel line, those which attack the mind. It is there that may be seen, and may be ï¬gured so to ex- press it. the intimate relations which unite the body to the soul, the or-. guns to, the intellect, All the faculties of the individual disappear one after another. The. memory fails, hebetude supervenes, and soon madness takes the 'place of the intellectual powers the mom had possessed. The propensity to. all crimes, to suicide becomes dcvel-t oped, and what should strike terror is this, that all the evils the indivi-. dual entails. upon himself, by the abuse of liquors, he transmits as in-. heritancc to his children, who suffer for the faults of the parent; fatal consequence, and which affords much matter for rcflcctiou.~- Cour-v ricr du Canada, How THE EYE IS Swupr AND VVASHED.â€"â€"FOI‘ us to be able to see objects clearly and distinctly, it. was necessary that the eye should be kept moist and clean. For this purpose it is furnished with a little gland, from which flows a watery fluid (tears) which is spread over the eye by the lid, and is after. wards swept off by it, and runs through a hole in the bone to the inner surface of the nose, the Worm air, passing over it. while breathing, evaporates it. It is remarkable that no such glands can be found in the eyes of ï¬sh, as the element in which they live answers the same purpose. If the eye had not been furnished with a liquid to wash it, and a lid to sweep it off things would appear as they do when we look through a dusty glass. Along the edges of the eyelid there are a great num-- ber of little tubes or glands from which flow an oily substance, which flows over the surface of the skin, and thus prevents the edges from becoming sorc 0i irritated, and it also helps to keep the tears within the lid. There are also six little muscles attached to the eye, which enables us to move it in every di~ rcction ; and when we consider the different motions they are capale of giving to the eyes, we cannot but admire the goodness of Him who formed them, and has thus saved us the trouble of turning our heads every time we wish to View an object. Although the eyes of some animals are incapable of mo. tion, as the fly, the beetle, and se- vcral other insects, yet the Creator has shown His wisdom and good- ness in furnishing their eyes with thousands of little globes, and by placing their eyes in front of their heads so that these little insects can see all around them without turning their heads. A gentleman who has examined the eyes of a fly, says that the two eyes of a common one are composed of 8.000 little globes. through every one of which it is ca~ publc of forming an object. Havr ing prepared the eye of the fly for the purpo:c, and placed it before the microsc0pc. and then looked through both, in the manner of the telescope, at a steeple which was 229 feet high, and ‘750 feet distant, he says he could plainly see through over little hemisphere. the Whole steeple inverted or turned upside down. where “ Dennis, darling, och. Dennis, What is it you’re doing?’ “ \Vhist, Billey, I’se trying an cxpcrimintl’ ‘Murtherl what: is it? “\Vhat is it, did you say? “Thy, it’s giving hot \vathcr to the chickens I am. so they’ll be after laying boiled eggs." Not Il’roncli.â€"â€"-.:X f; some time ago tool; :1 and astonished the natives Snore: En no stnan degree. In the hotel where he put up, in Boulognc, the servants were all newly im- ported cockneys, and Mr. l\'1â€"â€"-â€", who is a sterling wag mystiï¬ed them not a litle by his broad Scotch. Getting up one morning, rather earlier than usual, he called a waiting-maid, and accosted her with:â€" “ Fetch me the sheen, lassie.†“ Ah, sir, said she, “ I don’t understand French.’ ions Scotchmau WW to ,L‘ tattoo, 1‘! liltfi il‘l‘p orct‘