and friendships flourish. The student gains more time for meditation. Winter-knowledge strikes a deeper root; for the beautiful things of summer dissipate thought, and make the mind desultory.

Nature enjoys repose. The trees cease from the labour of putting forth leaves, and the plants, willingly lay their sweet heads in the snow-cradle. The stream stays its hurrying foot, and the cascade rests from its leaping. The furrowed earth, enjoys a sabbath, and prepares to meet with renewed vigour the season of toil.

Winter, is also the time for quickening sympathy, and benevolence. The poor, need fuel, and food. The shivering child must be clad. Go into the cold habitations of the sons and daughters of penury. See what the sick and the sorrowful need, and report their cases to those who have power to relieve them. So, shall you return to your own comfortable dwelling, with deeper gratitude, and the thought of having soothed others' pain, shall give you higher, and more sacred happiness.

Were there no winter, there would be less of prudent and provident foresight, in the world. This is a virtue, and it strengthens by exercise. The father thinks, during the mild season, what will be necessary to make his family comfortable, for approaching winter. The mother calculates

what garments will be needed to shield her little

ones.

In those cares there is comfort, because they are duties. They are such cares as quicken industry, and strengthen judgment, and deepen affection. If there was no winter, to call them into habitual exercise, the butterflies might have a longer time to flaunt, but the ants would lose their distinctive excellence, and the honey of the bee would have a slighter value.

Are there not some stores, which are laid up in autumn, to enliven the winter-evening?—the ruddy apple?-the enduring pear?-the varied nuts of the forest? So there are treasures, which may be laid up in winter, for other seasons,— kind recollections,-useful knowledge,-active sympathy. The kernels of such nuts are sweet. The essence of such fruits does not decay. Time cannot impair their flavour. Let us lay them up

in abundance.

Why should we complain so much of a season, that brings us the buds of affection,-the flowers of benevolence,-the fruits of wisdom? If winter has in it some mixture of discipline, let us receive it meekly, with a conviction that it is for our good. So, shall our winters be remembered in that world where no ice binds the sweet stream, and where there is neither storm nor tempest.

SHELL-FISHES.

We know very little of the habits of the smaller inhabitants of the deep. Naturalists divide them into a great number of classes. Some of these, are called testaceous; others crustaceous. The former have a hard, permanent shell, capable of growth: the latter have a thinner covering, which may be cast off, for a new one to grow. The oyster, is testaceous; the lobster, crusta

ceous.

You have doubtless, often admired the variety and delicacy of these exquisitely penciled shells, which ornament so many parlours and cabinets. They display His skill, who has given to the birds their brilliant plumage, and to the wild flowers of the field, their beauty.

In treatises of Conchology, you will find thousands of shells classified and arranged, according to their respective orders. We cannot here give the outlines of so extensive a science. All that will be attempted, is to give a few traits of character, of some of the tenants, of those, curious. mansions.

The Pinnæ, has the power of throwing out fine, silken threads. Hence it has been sometimes called the "silk-worm of the ocean." It adheres strongly to rocks, by a thick tuft of these threads. When broken off, and cleansed, they are capable of being made into useful articles of dress.

A manufactory of gloves and stockings, from the silk of the Pinnæ, is established at Palermo, in Sicily. The females there, sometimes steep it in a strong acid, and then press it with a warm iron, which imparts a beautiful yellow-brown colour, like the burnished gold of a beetle's wing. The Pinnæ, this industrious silk-spinner, is entirely blind. But it lodges in its own shell, a small, quick-sighted crab. This tenant, goes out to provide food, and at returning, taps gently at the door of its blind landlord, who readily opens to receive it.

But it is not satisfied with paying for its lodging in provisions. It performs a higher office, by apprizing its sightless companion, when the cuttle-fish, its mortal foe, is near, and thus often is instrumental in saving its life.

This league of friendship and defence, under the waters, did not escape the observation of the ancient naturalists. Both Pliny and Aristotle, mention that the Pinnæ, was never unattended by this faithful protector, and provider, who was literally, "eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame."

The Solen, or Razor-Sheath, who obtains this name, from a resemblance to a case for razors, has an apparatus for digging. Still, he cannot be dignified, with the name of gardener, as he merely excavates a cell for himself to hide in. If the sand is soft, he is able to dig a pit, two feet in depth, where he shuts himself up at pleasure, like a solitary student.

The Lepas, or Sea-Acorn, when the waters are boisterous, shuts its little door, and excludes them, as we do the storm. It adheres very

closely to rocks, or stones, or the bottoms of vessels. Sailors call the sea-acorns, barnacles, and count them enemies, as they are troublesome to ships. A very large, old whale, was taken in the Pacific Ocean, whose head was rough, with multitudes of these shells.

The Chiton, or Coat of Mail, has a shell, like a suit of ancient armour. Its valves, eight in number, are encased around him, in such a manner, that he can roll himself up like a ball, when he chooses. This knight of the deep sea, is often seen walking among the rocks, or attaching himself to waving wreaths of sea-weed, and coral.

The Teredo, has the power of penetrating wood, and derives its name from a Greek word, signifying to bore. It uses one pair of its valves as flood-gates, to admit the water into its dwelling, when it desires. It clings to the sides and