A

gave the brand a particular name, and in a few years became rich through an accident which he at first thought had completely ruined him. The process of whitening sugar was discovered in a curious way. hen that had gone through a clay puddle went with her muddy feet into a sugar house. She left her tracks in a pile of sugar. It was noticed that wherever her tracks were the sugar was whitened. Experiments were instituted, and the result was that wet clay came to be used in refining sugar.

The origin of the blue-tinted paper came about by a mere slip of the hand. The wife of William East, an English paper maker, accidentally let a blue bag fall into one of the vats of pulp.-Detroit Free Press.

HUMMING BIRDS.

It is not a little remarkable that humming birds are confined to the New World and its adjacent islands. Some persons will maintain, how ever, that they exist in India and Africa; and Mr. Gould states that he had once a stormy altercation with a gentleman who asserted that the humming bird was found in England, and that he had seen it fly in Devonshire. The object to which he alluded was the humming-bird moth; and the birds supposed to belong to this family in India and Africa are of a totally different group; the Nectarindæ, or Sun birds; the only points of resemblance between them and the Trochilidæ being their diminutive size and showy plumage.

But although humming birds are confined to the New World and the West Indies, their range in America is enormous. They have been found as high as the sixty-first parallel on the Pacific coast, and as low as Tierra del Fuego, flitting about in snow storms. The migration of

birds is assuredly one of the most interesting studies in natural history. We admire the grand flight of the eagle as he sweeps through the storm clouds, but we know the strength of his mighty pinions, and can comprehend how he battles successfully with the tempest; but our admiration is changed to amazement when we find the delicate and fragile humming-bird, scarcely larger than a bee, and apparently fitted only to adorn a conservatory, passing over vast zones of the globe, and flying through sunshine and storm, heat and cold, from the fiery tropics to the snow and ice of the Rocky Mountains on the north, and Cape Horn on the south.

This migratory habit of the humming-bird enables visitors to the Canadas and North America to make the acquaintance of one of the most beautiful species. This is the Trochilus Colubris, or Red-throated Humming-bird, which migrates in great numbers, in summer, from the Gulf of Mexico northward. Mr. Gould dwells lovingly on his first sight of one of these charming birds. And we, too, remember the first time we saw one of these creatures. We had landed at Halifax, at the latter end of August, and quite unprepared for the meteor-like vision; we are greatly puzzled to account for the flashes of light that darted before us in the gardens of the Government House; until suddenly remembering that we were in the summer-land of humming-birds, we were no longer at a loss to give a name to the ærial beings which, like the hues of roses steeped in liquid fire, now darted joyously from flower to flower, and now hung motionless in the air, probing in the azure blossoms with their long bills.

At a later period of the year when enjoying the hospitality of Sir John

Robinson, late chief justice of Canada, and Toronto, we had the pleasure of seeing the garden on which we looked, glittering with these birds, which darted from tree to tree and flower to flower in countless numbers; and that we may not be tho't exaggerating, here is a letter written lately to Mr. Gould, from a gentleman residing at Toronto:

"I wish you could have been with us last summer, you would have had a chance of watching your favorite humming-birds to your heart's content. I do not in the least exagger. ate when I say, that during the time the horse chestnuts were in flower, there were hundreds of these little, tiny creatures about my grounds. When sitting in my library I could hear their sharp, querulous notes as the males fought like so many little

bantam cocks with each other. On one horse chestnut tree, just at the corner of the house, they swarmed about the foliage like so many bees, and as the top branches of the trees were close to my bed-room windows, every now and then, one bird more bold than the rest would dart into the open window, and perch upon the wardrobe or the top of the bed-post."

This lovely humming bird is radiant with glory. The whole of his back, upper part of his neck, flanks, tail coverts, and two middle tail feathers are of a rich golden green; the wings and tail a purplish brown; under surface of the body, white, tinged with green; the throat ruby red, changing according to the position in which it is viewed, from deep black or fiery crimson to burning orange; while the bill, eyes, legs, and feet are black. Such is the livery of the male, for he alone wears these glorious hues. The female, unlike the daughters of Eve, is a more sober hued creature, which rule applies to all female humming birds.

The nests of humming birds are fabrics of exquisite construction. Mr. Gould dwells with pardonable enthusiasm on the wonderful beauty of these tiny cradles. Many are not larger than half a walnut shell, and these are among the neatest and most beautiful. It is also worthy of remark that many humming birds are not satisfied by making the interior of their nests alone symmetrical and comfortable, but they also bestow vast pains on the exterior, which is lavishly decorated with gaudy lichens and many hued feathers. These adornments are disposed in such a manner that the larger pieces are in the middle portion of the nest, and the smaller on that part attached to the branch or leaf. Frazer's Magazine.

MORAL EDUCATION OF CHILDREN

To make a child do right is one thing, to teach him to prefer right doing is another, and much more difficult task. The first can be accomplished by rewards and punishments, the latter only by calling into action his own conscience, and accustoming him to obey its requirements. Children trained under the first system are like a clock kept at the right hour by frequently moving the hands; but, as every one knows, a time-piece will only remain correct when the regulator is properly adjusted, and the same is equally true with children; they must not only be governed, but trained to govern themselves. This plain, undeniable statement, explains why so many who have been brought up with the greatest strictness, have, when removed from parental control and left to themselves, speedily run to ruin. It was like removing the brakes from an engine under a full head of steam.

It is an error to suppose that a child can be taught to love virtue by

merely telling him what is right. Some of the most graceless pests in the community have grown up in families where the Bible and the catechism were administered as regularly as the daily meals. Scoffers have pointed to such examples as proof of the worthlessness of the Holy Book, as a guide for life, but this is no more reasonable than to pronounce water of no value because those confined to it in youth, have afterwards destroyed themselves by intoxicating drink. Moral truth whether drawn from the Bible or other sources, is valuable above other teachings only in proportion as it is wrought into the life by daily practice. We may safely challenge the world to show an instance of a wicked man, who from childhood was accustomed to guide his life by the precepts of the Bible. The first requisite for right moral training of children is the living example of the parent or teacher. The greater part of education of children whether good or bad is accomplished by this agency. It is useless for a father to chide for anger, and exhibit passion himself when inflicting punishment for the child's display of temper. Every blow given under such circumstances, will confirm the combative tendency of the child. The father who talks about honesty and boasts of sharp bargains, is teaching his child the first principles which may make him an accomplished swindler. The mother who rebukes vanity, and yet indulges in displays of dress and ornament, will find that her "actions speak louder than words" in the formation of the character of her daughter. Most of the fixed habits of life, those which determine character and make or unmake the man, are the direct results of imitation while in youth, and they who would be happy in their children, must accustom them

to walk side by side with themselves in the ways of virtue.

One of the securest ways to instil and confirm a love of right-doing is to give children an experience of the pleasure of such conduct. For instance, a child is prone to selfishness. Punishment cannot drive it out, offered rewards only appeal to and strengthen the motive it is desirable to suppress.

Make such a child the

almoner of your bounty to some poor neighbor. Let him hear the grateful thanks of the widow for the present received at his hands, and witness the delight of the scantily clad child to whom he has given some article of clothing. He will participate in the pleasure, and soon be easily induced to secure similar enjoyment for himself, even at the price of self-denial, if the parent watches for and makes opportunities for him to exercise his own benevolence. Another powerful but much neglected means of confirming right principles and actions in children, is a readiness to appreciate and mark with approbation their efforts to do right. As long as the child's conduct is unexceptionable, and causes no trouble to the parent, he is too often left unnoticed, but any departure from this course is immediately marked, and perhaps visited with reproaches and punishment. The writer has known children to purposely do wrong in order to attract attention; they were uneasy at being left as mere cyphers, whom nobody cared for. The love of praise is a natural endowment, intended by the Creator to act as one of the strongest incentives to rightdoing, and the parent who fails to appeal to it is both unskillful and un

wise.

Although a child feels an inward satisfaction in good conduct, yet it loves to be appreciated, and when praise is so pleasant to bestow, it is to be wondered at that parents

are so sparing of commendation. This subject is almost an exhaustless one. Its full elucidation would require volumes, and we can only hope to here present a few leading points to elicit thought in the right direction, and thus aid parents in securing one of the most earnest desires of their lives, the welfare of their chil

dren.

THE ALPINE SCHOOLMASTER.
BY MARY H. C. BOOTH.

It is my good fortune to be spending a few days in a picturesque valpicturesque valley of the Alps (a valley six thousand feet above the level of the sea,) last summer, during the time of an Alpine festival, in honor of some heroic achievement of one of the ancestral mountaineers of the place. He flourished many centuries ago; and for what he was renowned I know not. One would suppose, however, by the account of his devoted and admiring descendants, that Helvetia could scarcely have existed save under his knightly protection. The legends they told me of him would fill a volume; but they were so mixed with the ghostly ard the supernatural, that when divested of the airy garments woven by the superstitious mountaineers, I hardly know what there would be to credit. It is of very little consequence, however, I imagine, even to the Alpine people themselves. The holiday festival is the principle thing; and that was a festival not easily to be forgotten. The very goats and the tame chamois seemed to rejoice.

They skipped and danced lustily about, each garlanded with wreaths of gentirn, and white wind-flowers. The children wore garlands of soft, pink-colored buds, and the maidens. of Alpine roses. All the huntersfor every man of the mountains is a hunter-wore a bunch of Alpine

roses in the bosom of his frock, one in his hat, and another in his mouth old men and young, all the same.

Farther up the mountain, in a wide-eaved, moss-covered cottage that seemed to have grown with the very hills themselves, so perfectly in harmony it appeared with its charming surroundings, an old man lay dead. He had been the schoolmaster of the mountain valley for sixty years. The very same things and from the very same half-dozen books he had taught the little garlanded grand-children I then saw, their parents, and even many of the grandparents. For in youth he was a wonderful prodigy of learning, and remained the same until the day of his death, taking care, as all good mountaineers are bound to do, not to receive the learned vagaries of travelers who have seen cities and sailed over seas. The old man pitied them; but he was not interested in their tales of telegraph, steam-engines, and the like; they were but. the useless devices of man, he would not have seen them for the world.. The works of his Maker were enough for him; and the innocent old man died as he had lived, up in the valley there always nearer to Heaven than we are; and all the people, and the little children loved him as a father and patriarch, and there were tears shed on that festival day, which was also the day of his funeral. At three o'clock in the afternoon the: mountaineers assembled around the old man's cottage. His coffin was placed outside the door upon the ground. It was encircled with a garland of flowers, tied above the head, with long streaming white ribbons. His hat, and ferule, and Bible and other insignia of his profession, were laid upon the coffin, above the feet. After a short burial survice by the spiritual shepherd of the little

Do

flock, six chamois hunters lifted the coffin upon their shoulders, and moved on, followed by all the happy, garlanded mountaineers, who evidently felt no emotion of saddness that their friend and companion had gone up a little higher-only out of their sight. They knew they should meet him in the land where there are no more snows, and wherefore tears? As they slowly descended the hills, for the dead are laid down to await the trumpet of the resurrection in the valleys, the chamois hunters lowered the coffin from their shoulders to carry it more comfortably between them lower down.

A mother, one of the younger daughters of the schoolmaster, was carrying a great, uneasy kicking boy of a year and a half in her arms. The coffin offered a comfortable place for a ride, so upon the coffin she set him, greatly to the delight of the youngster, who sat there playing with the flowers, and laughing with delight until the grave was reached. Strange picture of life and deaththe youngster glorying beside the powerless ferule.

The mountaineers placed all their garlands upon the new-made grave; and the youngster carried home the old ferule in his dimpled hands. May be the mourners, who had all been scholars of the old man, thought, as they looked on the familiar monitor, that all their simple virtues were owing to its faithful power.

THE LORD'S PRAYER.

An anecdote is told of Booth, the tragedian, which we do not recollect to have seen in print. It occurred in the palmy days of his fame, before the sparkle of his great black eye had been dimmed by that bane of genius, strong drink. Mr. Booth and several friends had been invited to dine with an old gentleman in

Baltimore, of distinguished kindness, urbanity, and piety. The host, though disapproving of theatres and theatre going, had heard so much of Booth's remarkable powers, that curiosity to see the man had, in this case, overcome all scruples and prejudices. After the entertainment was over, lamps lighted, and the company reseated in the drawing room, some one requested Booth, as a particular favor, and one which all present would doubtless appreciate, to read aloud the Lord's Prayer.

He

Booth expressed his ready willingness to afford this gratification, and all eyes were turned expectantly upon him. Booth rose slowly and reverently from his chair. It was wonderful to watch the play of emotions that convulsed his countenance. became deathly pale, and his eyes turned tremblingly upwards, were wet with tears As yet he had not spoken. The silence could be felt. It became absolutely painful, until at last the spell was broken as if ty an exectric shock, as his rich-toned voice, from white lips, syllabeled forth, "Our Father who art in heaven," etc., with a pathos and fervid solemnity that thrilled all hearts. He finished. The silence continued. Not a voice was heard or muscle moved in his rapt audience, until from a remote corner of the room a subdued sob was heard, and the old gentleman (their host), stepped forward with streaming eyes and tottering frame, and seized Booth by the hand.

"Sir," said he in a broken accent, "you have afforded me a pleasure for which my whole future life will feel grateful. I am an old man, and every day from my boyhood to the present time, thought I had repeated the Lord's Prayer, but I have never heard it before, never!"

"You are right," replied Booth,