Devil, we might be saved by REPENTANCE. And that is the whole essence and teaching of the Commination Service. If you had remained in church with a little patience, instead of rushing inconsiderately out as you did, you would have heard the whole end and object of the service to be-not the threatening or commination (for that is the meaning of the word commination) of the Law; but the mercy and grace of JESUS CHRIST in redeeming us from that threatening of the Law; not, however, so redeeming us, as to release us from punishment if we have been guilty of violating it, but releasing us from the punishment of it, if, having been guilty, WE REPENT. That is the one condition. That is the one rule; and no words, I feel sure, could more beautifully depict the mercy of GOD to the penitent sinner than those which this much-abused service sets before us : "This if we do," that is, Repent,CHRIST will deliver us from the curse of the Law, and from the extreme malediction which shall light upon them which shall be set on the left hand, and give us the gracious benediction of His Father, commanding us to take possession of His glorious kingdom, unto which He vouchsafe to bring us all for His infinite mercy. Amen." John. Then, when you speak about the discipline of the Church, and that you desire it to be restored, you don't mean the mere outward form of it, as to the "sprinkling of ashes" and making "confessions," and all that popery, but you really do mean, that you wish it for the salvation of souls. Is that it ?

แ

Vicar. For what other purpose could we wish it. The sprinkling of ashes, which gave the name of Ash-Wednesday to the first day of Lent, was not the discipline itself, but the outside form of the discipline. It was a very beautiful and significant form. They sprinkled ashes over the head of each person, both priests and people, to remind them of their sins, of their frailty, and of the degradation and curse under which God of His own mouth had pronounced them to be, as children of Adam, saying over them these words: "Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." But this was the outward form. The real discipline which we desire to be restored is not that mere form, but that which it signified, the release and the recovery of the sinner from the curse

which the sprinkling of ashes signified. And you know, John, we do this very thing, even to this day, in the burial of the dead; for when we lay the corpse in the ground we throw dust over it, and say, "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust." What is this but the very same thing, namely, to remind us of the curse of ALMIGHTY GOD, through Whose indignation against sin death came into the world, for had there been no sin, there had been no Law; and had there been no Law, there had been no Death; but dying in CHRIST, we are redeemed from the curse, for dying in CHRIST we shall also rise again with CHRIST.

John. Then the discipline, and the Penance, and the Commination, and the Reading of the Curses, mean only REPENTANCE?

Vicar. They are the means by which the Church desires to provoke men to the repentance of the Gospel. Men must be told of the terrors of the LORD, before they can be afraid of the LORD, even as the Apostle said:" Knowing the terrors of the LORD, we persuade men," and surely we ought to be so afraid, for we are told over and over again that our God is a consuming fire." So we hope that men will flee to JESUS CHRIST for refuge, and the way they must so flee is by Repentance-and the way they must shew Repentance is by fasting, praying, doing good deeds of Alms, and works of mercy, shewing by their acts that they feel what they say, even as S. John Baptist told us, "Bring forth fruits, meet for Repentance."

Let me conclude with what S. Chrysostom beautifully says:

"If you gain nothing by these continual meetings and exhortations, and by this season of fasting, to the advantage of your soul, they will not only do you no good, but be the occasion of a severer condemnation. If after so much care and pains bestowed upon you, you continue the same,-if the angry man does not become meek, and the passionate mild and gentle-if the envious does not reduce himself to a friendly temper, and the covetous man depart from his madness and fury in the pursuit of riches, and give himself to alms-deeds and feeding the poor,-if the intemperate man does not become chaste and sober, and the vainglorious learn to despise false honour, and seek for that which is true, if he that is negligent of charity to his neighbour, does not stir up himself and endeavour not only not to become behind the publicans who, love those that love them, but also to look friendly upon his very enemies,-if, in short, you do not conquer these affections, and all others which spring up from your natural corruption; though you assemble here every day, and enjoy continual preaching and teaching, and

have the assistance of fasting- -what pardon can you expect, what excuse shall you make." John. I think I was very wrong in going out of Church so hastily. Next Ash-Wednesday I will join in the Commination Service with a better spirit.

TO KEEP A TRUE LENT.

Is this a fast; to keep

The larder leane,

And cleane

From fat of veales and sheep?

Is it to quit the dish
Of flesh, yet still

To fill

The platter high with fish?

Is it to faste an houre

Or ragg'd to go,
Or show

A down-cast look and soure?

No-'tis a fast to dole

Thy sheaf of wheat, And meat Unto the hungry soule.

It is to fast from strife; From old debate,

And hate;

To circumcise thy life;

To shew a heart grief-rent,

To starve thy sin,

Not bin,

And that's to keep thy Lent.

HERRICK.

THE GREAT PHYSICIAN.

(Continued from page 82.)

CUTS OR WOUNDS.

When a deep cut or wound heals on the surface, but not from the bottom; or when a thorn or piece of glass &c., gets deep into the flesh; or when from any cause the deeper parts are injured, inflamation occurs, and matter is formed; a gathering takes place. When persons come to you complaining of, and showing (say a finger) swelled, red, tight and throbbing, you may be pretty sure it will end in a gathering.

The thorn or glass or whatever it may be, irritates, teazes the soft parts around, and they, provoked at its intrusion, try to get rid of it. But the Intruder has got

*S. Chrysostom. Hom. xi. on Genesis.

too deep in, and Poor Nature has a hard battle of it. The parts above are closed over, and her enemy is shut in.

"Well, she says; I'll try and prevent you doing me much harm. I'll make your place too hot for you: I'll surround you with a firm barricade (of inflamation) and dig a hole in the centre and fill it with fluid (matter) and then open by degrees one little gap and out you shall go and

with a full tide too"-and well she does this. But the last effort is the hardest; the outer skin is tough and just there she wants a little help-the prick of a lancet or needle. How wondrous and how simple are the contrivances of the Great Power working in nature!

The irritating substance is in her tissues. They inflame and swell and so raise a ridge round it, cutting it thus off from the surrounding parts, then the inflamation relieves itself by throwing out matter, in which it floats, then this works its way and breaks through the skin, and matter and glass or thorn is cast out.

Little is left for doctor or nurse, if they will but be content to watch and lend a helping hand only when wanted.

I am of course speaking of slight cases. In all extensive injuries and deep collections of matter (especially in the palm of the hand, sole of the foot and armpit &c) recourse must be had to the Surgeon.

Now what is the treatment requiredSimply warm poultices. If the inflamation runs very high and the pain and throbbing very great, two or three leeches may be applied; then cover the whole finger with poultice; it gives present relief and probably in a few hours or a day or two the general swelling subsides; and as it does, you will see a gradual rising over the point where the thorn has entered, turning

color from red to white-The red inflamation has resulted in the deposit of whitish matter, the gathering is ripening; then it has the look of a white pearl in the centre; it is come to a head; and now is the time to open it and let out the matter. Puncture once and freely with a needle or lancet according to size of gathering. Dont prick it open by bits and so fret the edges of the opening; neither knead the sides and thus press out all the matter, for it gives much pain-just let it discharge itself;-for by forcing it all out, a cavity

is left which will not so readily heal up from the bottom as when left to empty itself gradually into the poultice. Be sure not to open it till it is quite ripe. Continue the poultice till the matter ceases to discharge; then use the water dressing till quite healed.

A little thickening and stiffness remains for a while, but with gentle friction the finger soon recovers its flexibility.

A whitlow is a very common form of gathering. It begins with heat and throbbing around the root of the nail, and a whitish transparent bladder is formed, which should be at once snipped with scissors and freely cut away; and it will soon heal and the affair be ended. But if neglected, and the matter be pent up, it will gradually undermine a considerable portion of the skin, all round the nail; and still unopened, it will break through it (ulcerate it) in one or more places; and often through one of these holes there will protrude a piece of proud raw flesh; and then what is to be done ? I tell you plainly, it requires management beyond your skill and you had better show it to a Surgeon. Öften a whitlow forms in the tip (the feeling part of the finger) the matter in this case is deep and requires at once the free use of the surgeon's lancet, and if you shrink from this you will dearly pay for your cowardice.

Take a hint from one who has felt what he is writing about. Hold out your finger bravely, clasp its wrist with all the force of your sound hand and the strong effort you make to deaden the pain will so distract your mind that you will scarcely feel the instantaneous lancing of an expert surgeon.

A boil differs from the preceding in being rather an inflamed swelling, where instead of matter forming in its cavity, the whole part dies, leaving a core.

Boils are very troublesome, not individually, but because they are frequently the effect of general ill health, of weakness and want of care; or the reverse, too great exuberance and high living; and as one is cured another follows, and so on. A physician should be consulted. Locally the treatment is poultice, and as soon as the core is quite formed, the surgeon will freely open them and the core will gradually come away.

If, in these cases or any others, such as cuts or scratches, a scab remains,-let it come off itself; never pick it off-you only keep up the wound; a scab is really nature's best protection and plaister.

SKETCHES OF NATURAL HISTORY.

No. IV.

THE ANT.

In judging of the works of man, we are apt to estimate them according to their magnitude, or to the time and labour which has been expended in bringing them to perfection, but in viewing the works of Him by "Whose word the heavens were made, and all the host of them by the breath of His mouth," who can say "this is more wonderful than that?" From the majestic eagle measuring eleven feet from wing to wing, whose life endures beyond a century, to the minutest of the winged atoms which flit about in the bright sun-beam for a few hours and disappear, all are endued with organs and instincts fitting them for their appointed stations in the great household of nature; and all are "fearfully and wonderfully made."

In the preceding numbers we have considered the wild ass and the skylark each roaming in their glorious freedom in the sandy desert or in the azure fields of the heavens, and we have spoken of the mysterious bat loving to sleep away its life in darksome caverns or crumbling ruins. We will now say a few words about a very different race, one, of which millions are hourly trodden under foot,-the busy restless Ant.

This insect is so very common that a particular description of its outward appearance is hardly needful. There are numerous varieties of Ants which perhaps, to the common observer seem so much alike in their general formation, that those only are distinguished which possess a marked difference of size and colour, as the large black hill ant or emmet, measuring from five to six lines in length, and the diminutive red ant scarcely half that size.

But the eye of the naturalist discovers many minute distinctions in the various species, in the length of the antennæ, or of the mandibles, the position and texture of the wings, and many other slight variations. In their habits they all partake of the same wonderful instinct which shews itself differently according to their different circumstances.

The ant is a gregarious insect, living in colonies consisting, like those of bees, of males, females, and workers: of these the two first only are provided with wings. The males live but a very short time and the females do not often survive the winter, but the workers remain busily engaged in providing for the young thus left to their care.

The dwelling of the ant consists of a nest formed either under ground or in the trunks of trees as the great black ant, or under stones and rubbish as the red ant &c. But in all cases the nest is formed of passages and compartments, constructed of various materials according to the habits of the peculiar species.

When the females lay their eggs they leave them to the care of the workers, who carry them to the apartments destined to receive them. From these eggs are hatched the larvae which are whitish maggots without legs, of a thick conical form.

The larvæ of the common black ant are considered by gamekeepers to afford excellent nourishment to young pheasants and partridges, and are erroneously called by them ant's or emmet's eggs. As soon as these maggots have attained their full growth, they enclose themselves in a smooth, oval, silken web, in which they await their last transformation. This is the general rule, but there are some kinds of larvæ which do not spin.

There are so many curious particulars relating to the ant, both as regards its skill as a builder, its social habits, its wars with varieties of its own race, that it seems difficult to bring this sketch within the prescribed limits without omitting much that is interesting. We will endeavour therefore to select such facts as appear best fitted to give a general idea of the wonderful sagacity with which these little creatures are endowed.

And first we will speak of the inhabitants of the mounds which are so common in our woods. These ants are of a large size, though not equal to the great black ant, they are of a reddish brown colour, the workers measure from three to four lines, and are armed with very strong mandibles or fangs, which are serrated and terminate in a hook. They are able to widen them out and use them not only to attack their enemies and tear their food,

but also to carry burdens, and for all the labours required of them in the formation of their dwellings.

These ants, as well as another variety of the same species (which differ only in being of a brighter red on the back, and making their habitation in hedgerows and meadows instead of woods,) collect around their nests bits of straw, chips, twigs, leaves, grains of wheat, oats or barley, and even small stones and fragments of shells. At first sight these hillocks would seem but a confused heap, but on closer investigation it will present an ingenious contrivance to defend the interior from the injuries of the air, to exclude water and to regulate the heat of the sun. Although composed of such a variety of materials the mound is always in the shape of a dome, of which the base, often covered with earth and small pebbles, forms as it were a girdle, from whence springs the more fibrous or woody part of the edifice in the shape of a sugar loaf.

So much for the outward covering, but the nest extends beneath it far below the surface of the ground. Numerous pas sages and galleries wind down from the summit to the lower extremity, some wide, some narrow, differing in extent according to the size of the colony, on which also depends the size of the entrance. The principal opening is often found at the top. Often too there are a number of openings of equal size, and when this is the case, they are surrounded by narrow passages arranged in symmetrical order winding down to the base. These openings are required to allow free egress to the multitude of workers, whose labours continually call them outside their dwellings; and besides this, this species, unlike most other kinds of ants which constantly remain in their nests to escape from the sun, prefer to be in the open air.

In the nests of every other European species of ant the openings are very small, and at the base, and the dome is covered and closed in on all sides with earth, so as to be defended not only from rain but also from any insects or small reptiles which might creep in. These brown ants however, being all the day in myriads outside their nest, have no reason to fear this, but then how are they protected at night, when retired into the very centre of their habitation they cannot be aware of any

dangers from without, and how is it that they are not destroyed by the first hard rain penetrating through so many openings? This question occurred to the celebrated Swiss naturalist Mr. Huber, to whose researches we are indebted for the solution of the difficulty.

On closely watching a nest of these ants for a long time, he perceived that the appearance of the hill altered from hour to hour.

The diameter of the spacious galleries where at midday so many ants could meet and pass one another without difficulty, gradually diminished towards evening. At last the openings disappeared entirely, and the ants were all hid in the interior of their dwelling. With this first clue Mr. Huber continued his investigations, for it was now clear to him that the apparent restless way of these ants, continually going to and fro on the surface of the hill laden with various materials, was the result of a fixed purpose. They first brought little pieces of wood which they placed above the openings of their galleries ramming them in to the surface of straw. Then they fetched fresh beams which they laid cross-wise upon the first, lastly they covered all up with dead leaves and other softer materials, widening them out beyond the size of the opening. The ants retired into the interior as they concluded their several tasks, one or two remaining outside until the last entrance was ready to be closed.

Ac

Having watched all these proceedings Mr. Huber was most anxious to see what would be done the following day. cordingly at an early hour he recommenced his observations. At first he found the ant-hill just as he had left it: a few ants were wandering outside, but soon some appeared creeping from under the projecting eaves which they had constructed the previous day, and very soon they attempted to remove the barricades. In this they easily succeeded, and in the course of some hours every passage was free and open as when he had first noticed them, and the various materials scattered about over the hill. Every day during the fine weather this work of alternate construction and demolition goes on, excepting on wet days, when the entrances remain closed. And indeed the ants appear to watch the weather, for if the morning is cloudy they

only partly open their doors and quickly close them up again when the threatened rain begins.

In the original formation of their nest the ants commence their operations on a cavity in the ground, and whilst some are engaged in fetching and collecting the various materials required for the upper part, others are employed in bringing up the earth which they excavate below, and which they mix with the little bits of wood, thatch, leaves, &c., so as to give the edifice some degree of consistency. Thus they build story upon story, the rain serving to combine the earth with the other materials, and the sun hardening them all together.

The largest chamber is in the centre of the nest, all the galleries open into it and the ants are generally collected there in the greatest numbers. In the subterranean part of the dwelling the walls and pillars of the chambers and galleries are composed entirely of earth, worked up when moist, and in this the species of which we have hitherto been speaking follow the same method as most other ants.

Mr. Huber has given a very curious account of the proceedings of a very small brown ant which seems to excel all other species in the delicacy of its masonry.

Unlike the large ants we have noticed, these little creatures dread the heat of the sun and either remain shut up in their chambers during the day, or only come out by subterranean galleries opening into the meadow beneath the shelter of the grass.

The ant-hill which was selected by Mr. Huber for his investigation, was situated in a meadow close to the edge of a path. He soon perceived that when the dew began to fall the ants appeared, working out little openings in the top of their hill, a few only at first, which after putting out their heads and waving their feelers about, emerged at last and went on their several missions.

Mr. Huber on ascertaining this, proceeded to watch them during the night, and found that from the setting of the sun they were in full activity on the roof of their nest. A few days after this he again visited the same ant-hill during a soft penetrating rain, and had an opportunity of seeing them display their powers of building.