(Galanthus Rivalis.) WHY does the snow-drop, "the morning star of flowers," put forth its pretty blossoms amidst the chills of frost and cold weather? Not surely for the mere purpose of furnishing poets with a theme to string verses upon, or a subject for figures of speech; though many of these we must allow to be finely conceived, and elegantly introduced, such as that of M. Robinson: Where'er I find thee, gentle flower, Thou still art sweet and dear to me; Or that of Mrs. Tighe, who describes the snow-drop, as The wintry flower, VOL. III. PSYCHE. And no less pretty are the lines of another female writer, Mrs. Charlotte Smith, who describes the flower. Like pendent flakes of vegetating snow, The early herald of the infant year; Ere yet the adventurous crocus dares to blow, Beneath the orchard boughs thy buds appear. While still the cold north-east ungenial lowers, And scarce the hazle in the leafless copse Or sallows show their downy powdered flowers, The grass is spangled with thy silver drops. Yet when those pallid blossoms shall give place To countless tribes of richer hue and scent, Summer's gay blooms, and Autumn's yellow race, I shall thy inodorous bells lament. So journeying onward in life's varying track, Even while warm youth its bright illusion lends, Fond memory often with regret looks back To childhood's pleasures, and to infant friends. That the snow-drop has been destined by Providence for some more useful purpose than to be thus exhibited in poetry, can require, we think, no argument to M prove; though we may not in this, as in numberless other instances in creation, be able to point out the precise design intended by Providence in the early blooming of the snow-drop. We have just met with the following chance incident, which we conceive may throw some light on this subject. Walking in a garden, during one of the spring-like days, which were so common during the early part of 1834, we observed on a snow-drop blossom, a very uncommon insect for this season of the year-a wallwasp, (odynerus murarius,) one of the solitary species, of a dark glossy black colour, crossed with narrow bands of a pale golden yellow. The poor thing appeared to be very sluggish and languid, benumbed, no doubt, by the cold, though partially revived by the bright sunshine, which was then streaming over the opening blossoms of clumps of snow-drops and primroses, planted at intervals in the borders. We will not assert, that this feeble wall-wasp actually found any sip of honey in the snow-drop blossom ; for though such is very probable, it is always hazardous to conjecture without actual observation, respecting the actions of creatures, which are directed either mediately or immediately by Him " who worketh by means, and contrary to means,' but it led us to believe this conjecture at least plausible. And may it not be, (we went on to suppose,) that the early blowing of the snowdrop, as well as the late blowing of the ivy, and some other plants, is destined to spread a table in the wintry wilderness for such insects as may, like our poor wallwasp, have accidentally survived the general destruction of their kindred on the first setting in of cold weather; or such insects as the hive bees which may chance to be roused from their torpid sleep, by weather milder than usual, or by | an occasional day of sunshine? Many insects, in such circumstances, do certainly perish, as do summer insects by some tempests, and as cities are destroyed by earthquakes; but it is at least pleasing to reflect, that the snow-drop, and a few other flowers of its companionship, may be serviceable to prevent a few bees, wasps, and similar insects from perishing of absolute famine. Such a reflection, indeed, to our mind, throws a brighter interest around the snow-drop, than all the poetry that was ever written in its praise; and we think it will do so to the minds of all those who are accustomed even in an in | | cident so apparently trivial as seeing an insect resting on a flower, to "look through nature, up to nature's God." MELANCHOLY EFFECTS OF SUDDEN To indulge in the disposition, too prevalent among many, to excite sudden terror or alarm in the breasts of others, is highly criminal. A moment's consideration must convince us, that what may pass off as a harmless jest when practised on one of a bold spirit, may produce the most disastrous consequences when applied to another of a timorous disposition or nervous frame. Various have been the afflictions of a permanent nature, brought on the young and the fearful, by a wanton or thoughtless attempt to frighten them. Surely many who indulge in this mischievous propensity, merely through a love of frolic, would put a restraint upon themselves if they were at all aware of the possibility of entailing an infirmity on a fellow-creature, only to be relieved in the final hour, when this mortal shall put on immortality. In a new work, published on the diseases of the ear, two instances are related wherein sudden fear produced the most melancholy effects. The one was that of a child, who, being thoughtlessly frightened by an elder sister, was affected with total deafness. In the second case the conse quence was yet more fearful; for the little sufferer, terribly alarmed at being put into a dark cellar, by a servant, became not only | totally deaf, but totally blind also ! Think, reader, of the delight afforded by the view of rising and setting suns, of the varied objects of creation, and of the faces of our dearest friends! Think of the pleasure and profit to be derived from books, especially the book of books, the Bible. Think of the delight communicated by soothing music, the singing of birds, the soft voices of affectionate friends, and the cheering cousolations of the promises of eternal life, breathed forth with heartfelt energy, by the ministers of the gospel of peace ; and then ask yourself, if the poor gratification o' a momentary pleasure, would recompense you for the stinging remorse your heart would feel in the bitter consciousness of having deprived a human being of these advantages for ever. Another melancholy instance of the sad effects of sudden fright, is that of a schoolboy, who was lifted up in bed, in the dark, by one of his companions, who, unknown to him, had crept under the bed for that purpose. The frightened boy, terrified to distraction, lost his senses, and became an incurable lunatic. Reader! Think of the immeasurable mercy that your heavenly Father has manifested towards you, in bestowing upon you faculties, whereby you may, in part, comprehend the wonders of his Providence, and his grace, and ask your own heart, whether if you had deprived a human being of these inestimable advantages, you would be satisfied in reflecting that you did it in a moment of thoughtless folly? If you have the slightest disposition to indulge in so censurable a sport, and do not endeavour to restrain it when apprized of the dreadful consequences that may attend it, you must have a weak head, and a hard heart. Many thoughtless follies of this kind are committed for want of due reflection; but after the danger has been pointed out to us, we must be wantonly cruel, to persevere therein. Who, but a monster of inhumanity, could stand over the grave of one who had been the victim of his inhuman sport, and repeat, without aggravated remorse, the words, "Here lies the dust of a fellow-being, rendered wretched by my reckless folly. Robbed of the blessings of sight and hearing, and despoiled of the still more precious gift of understanding, he lingered through the darksome days of his earthly pilgrimage, a spectacle of incurable affliction, and a memorable example of the fatal consequences of my infatuated folly ?" CONSCIENCE. WHEN the conscience is thoroughly afraid with the remembrance of sins past, and the devil assaileth thee with great violence, going about to overwhelm thee with heaps, floods, and whole seas of sins, to terrify thee, and draw thee from Christ, then arm thyself with such sentences as these: Christ, the Son of God, was given, not for the holy, the righteous, worthy, and such as were his friends; but for the wicked sinners, for the unworthy, and for his enemies. Wherefore, if Satan say, Thou art a sinner, and therefore must be damned; then answer thou, and say, Because thou sayest I am a sinner, therefore will I be righteous and be saved and if he reply, Nay, but sinners must be damned; then answer thou, and say, No; for I fly to Christ, who hath given himself for my sins; and therefore, Satan, in that thou sayest I am a sinner, thou givest me armour and weapons against thyself, that with thine own sword I may cut thy throat, and tread thee under my feet. Matt. xi. 28; Rom. v. 6, 8.-Luther. ADVANTAGE OF KNOWLEDGE. In England, a man of small fortune may cast his regards around him, and say, with truth and exultation, "I am lodged in a house that affords me conveniences and comforts, which even a king could not command some centuries ago. There are ships crossing the seas in every direction, to bring me what is useful to me from all parts of the earth. In China, men are gathering the tea-leaf for me; in America, they are planting cotton for me; in the West India Islands, they are preparing my sugar and coffee; in Italy, they are feeding silk-worms for me; in Saxony, they are shearing the sheep to make me clothing; at home, powerful steam-engines are spinning and weaving for me, and making cutlery for me, and pumping the mines, that the materials useful to me may be procured. My patrimony was small, yet I have postcoaches running day and night, on all the roads, to carry my correspondence; I have roads, and canals, and bridges, to bear the coal for my winter fire; nay, I have protecting fleets and armies around my happy country, to secure my enjoyments and repose. Then I have editors and printers, who daily send me an account of what is going on throughout the world, among all these people who serve me. And in a corner of my house, I have books! the miracle of all my possessions, for they transport me instantly, not only to all places, but to all times. By my books, I can conjure up before me, to vivid existence, all the great and good men of antiquity; and, for my individual satisfaction, I can make them act over again the most renowned of their exploits; the orators declaim for me; the historians recite; the poets sing: in a word, from the equator to the pole, and from the beginning of time until now, by my books, I can be where I please."—Dr. Arnott. WAGES OF SIN. The wages that sin bargains with the sinner are, life, pleasure, and profit; but, the wages it pays him with are, death, torment, and destruction. He that would understand the falsehood and deceit of sin, must compare its promises and its payments together.-South. ON THE HEART AND CIRCULATION OF | right ventricle, it effectually prevents a drop from returning upon the contraction of the ventricle; a circumstance of material importance, and beautifully provided for. The right ventricle, as we have said, is destined to receive the blood from its corresponding auricle, and transmit it to the lungs, in order that it may be subjected to the action of the atmospheric air, taken in at each inspiration, or during breathing. Now, the vessel arising from this ventricle is an artery, termed the pulmonary, at the root of which, internally, are situated three valves, (the semilunar valves, from their shape,) which allow the blood to pass during each contraction of the ventricle, but prevent its falling back, during the intervals of the contractions, as it would do, but for this exquisite piece of mechanism The nature of the valves may be easily imagined from the following sketch, which presents them first in their natural situation, a section of the artery being made just The right auricle of the heart is the immediate receptacle for the blood, which, having accomplished its course, is returned back to that organ, in order to be first sent to the lungs, whence it returns again to the heart, and is then sent out afresh on its journey through the system. Into this right auricle, the blood is brought by certain veins, vene cave, o.q. page 84,) which terminate in it; and its thin walls are strengthened by bundles of muscular fibres, disposed on its inner surface, and termed musculi pectinati, from their resemblance to the teeth of a comb. The division-wall between the two auricles is termed the septum auricularum. The right auricle communicates with the right ventricle below, by means of an opening termed ostium venosum, at the edges of which, within the ventricle, is situated a valvular apparatus, consisting of thin, firm membrane, divided into three parts, and called the tricuspid valve, from a slight resemblance to three spear heads. To the edges of this valvular apparatus small muscles (carnea columna) are attached by tendinous cords, (chorda tendinea) which prevent the membrane from being forced into the auricle. Thus, though the tricuspid valve readily admits the passage of the blood from the right auricle into the Luis le ode totheddi To foljogesh bas above them, and then as they appear when the artery is slit up longitudinally, and laid extended. The blood is returned from the lungs to the left auricle of the heart, by four pulmonary veins. The coats of this auricle are somewhat firmer and thicker than those of the right, which in other respects it closely resembles. The opening of the left auricle into the left ventricle, is also furnished with a valvular membrane, but only divided into two parts, and called, from its resemblance to a mitre, valvula mitralis. The cut on page 93, shows the left auricle and ventricle, laid open. The blood received by the left auricle from the lungs, is transmitted through the opening into the left ventricle, which, as it needs the greatest portion of strength, is characterized by the superior thickness The great artery which arises from the left ventricle, the ramifications of which (under various names, for the sake of convenience and precision) are distributed universally, is the aorta. It is thick and firm, and, like the pulmonary artery, is proIvided with three semilunar valves. All the cavities of the heart are lined with a fine smooth membrane, or coat, and externally the whole organ is closely enveloped in a similar membrane, which is a reflection of the internal lamina of the pericardium. The pericardium is a mem branous bag which contains the heart, but is not adherent to its sides. There is generally found in it a small quantity of serous fluid, which is doubtless of use in lubricating the surface of the heart. The course of the blood may be thus summarily described: passing from all parts of the body, by means of the veins to the heart, it is received by the right auricle, into which the vena cava is perpetually pouring it; the right auricle contracting, propels it through the pulmonary artery to the lungs. Now this artery ramifies most minutely over the thin tissue of which the cells of the lungs are composed, (for the lungs are composed of multitudes of cells, into which the air enters in the action of breathing,) and there acquires new characters which render it subservient to the vital operations of the body; its colour, which was dark, is now altered, and becomes bright florid red, or nearly scarlet. From the lungs it repasses to the heart, by means of veins, into which the extreme ramifications of the pulmonary artery gradually merge. These veins, named also pulmonary, terminate in the left auricle of the heart, which, receiving the blood, contracts and transmits it to the left ventricle, and this propels it through the aorta, to every part of the body, where it gradually loses its peculiar arterial properties, which seem as it were to be expended upon the system, and is again taken up by the veins, into which the extreme ramifications of the arteries insensibly merge, to be conveyed to the right auricle, and again go through the process as described. : Thus, then, the right side of the heart is always filled with dark-coloured or venous blood; the left side with bright or arterial blood the arteries carry the blood from the heart, the veins bring it back; the arteries of the system are filled with bright blood, the veins of the system with dark; while, on the contrary, the pulmonary artery takes blood of a venous character to the lungs, and the pulmonary veins bring back blood of an arterial character to the heart. M. |