burst into tears, and lifting himself up in bed, he put his arms around Mr. Dalben's neck, and sobbed aloud.

"Dear child," said Mr. Dalben, "I pray that you may have been taught, from this day's experience, wherein your true happiness consists; that is, first in the presence, the affection, and instruction of me, your father, who for a while am to stand in the place of your God, for the paternal authority is from the Lord; and the child who loves, honours, and obeys his earthly father, for the sake of his God, will in consequence, there is no doubt, in after-life, be enabled to look up more directly to his heavenly Parent for his assistance and help; for, the sacred feelings of filial piety are, as it were, but the buds and blossom of those Christian principles which are the foundation of a holy and happy life."

Mr. Dalben then left Henry, having first offered a prayer by the side of his bed: and the next day, after the little boy had done his lessons, he took him out to walk with him, telling him that he was going to show him something which he hoped would make plain some part of their discourse the day before.

Mr. Dalben took little Henry into the lane of which we have formerly spoken; and, having passed along the well-known path for some way, he came to a stile, over which they climbed, and entered into a narrow path, which led them, after many turnings and windings, to a small wooden door, which formed an opening in a quick hedge, which was neatly trimmed, and was considerably higher than little Henry Milner.

Mr. Dalben pushed this door gently open, and entering through the door-way, was followed by little Henry, who was surprised to find himself in a large piece of land laid out as a nursery and flower-garden, the ground being divided into small beds, each of which was devoted to some particular kind of tree or plant. A long straight walk extended from the door at the entrance to the other end of the garden, and was terminated by a kind of alcove or wooden building, open in front and furnished with benches.

"Oh! uncle," said Henry," what a beautiful garden! I never was here before: who does it belong to ?"

"I will not say much for the beauty of this garden," said Mr. Dalben, "because it is too stiff and formal. A garden, in order to look beautiful, should, in some de

gree, partake of the wildness and irregularity of natural scenes; that is, such scenes as you saw near the ruins of Jane Crawley's cottage. But this belongs to a gardener, whose business it is to rear and sell young plants, and to whom the beauty of it is of little consequence. We will walk on to the end of this garden, and sit down to rest on that seat which you see at a distance, and then I will talk to you a little of the nature of vegetables, and tell you how they are classed, in the same manner which I have adopted in explaining the classification of animals."

Mr. Dalben and Henry then walked on to the end of the garden, and having seated themselves in the wooden building above mentioned, they entered into the following discourse.

"It is said of Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, Henry," said Mr. Dalben," that he knew every herb of the field, from the cedar which groweth in Lebanon to the hyssop on the wall. But I fear, Henry, if you were to be examined, it would be found that you scarcely are acquainted with one single subject of the vegetable kingdom."

"Oh! uncle," said Henry," why do you say so, uncle? I know a great many flowers, and trees, and vegetables. I know cabbages, and potatoes, and dandelions, and gilliflowers, and snowdrops, and snapdragons, and gooseberries, and currants."

"Stop, stop, Henry," said Mr. Dalben; "not so fast, my boy. You can tell the names of all these and many more, when you see them; but do you understand their different parts, and their natures, and their families ?"

Henry looked a little blank upon this, and said," Uncle, I don't understand you."

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Why, I only mean to say, my dear, that you at present know no more of all the trees and flowers which you have seen, than you would know of the people in Worcester, if I were to take you to walk in the streets of that city. You would know that these people were men and women, but you would not know their qualities, whether they were good or bad, or even their names or the families to which they belong. But when you have studied the history of the vegetable kingdom, you will be able to discover the name and nature of every flower and plant you see; and you will perceive that they are all arranged in order and distributed in regular classes like

the living creatures, the six orders of which I have described to you. The knowledge of the vegetable kingdom is called botany," proceeded Mr. Dalben. "When you are older, Henry, if I am spared to you and you to me, and all is well, we will study this pleasant subject. We will make ourselves first acquainted with all the trees and plants round about us; and then we will climb the hills, and descend into the valleys, and among the woods and waterfalls, to find out new varieties of these beautiful works of God. I hope we shall have many pleasant walks together, Henry," continued Mr. Dalben, "when we are studying botany; and when we meet with a flower which we have not seen before, we shall find new occasion to praise Him who has adorned these little flowers of the fields and valleys with beauties so various, so exquisite, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."

Mr. Dalben then explained to Henry Milner, that every plant consists of seven parts; viz. its root, its buds, its trunk, its leaves, its props, its inflorescence, and its fructification.

"You know what roots are, Henry," said Mr. Dalben. "O yes, uncle," said Henry; "they are the long strings which go down into the ground.'

"All plants," said Mr. Dalben, "excepting sea-weeds, have roots. The roots of some trees are said to be larger than the upper or visible parts of them. Buds, or bulbs, are those parts of the root which are round, or long, and solid, such as you see in tulips and potatoes." "And onions, uncle," said Henry, "are not they the same?"

"Yes, my boy," said Mr. Dalben: "and there are many other plants whose bulbs are large. But all plants have buds and bulbs, though not so plainly to be discovered as those we have mentioned. Next to the buds or bulbs of plants come the stems or stalks. There are many kinds of stems or stalks. Some are strong and firm, and branched like the trunks of trees. Some are hollow, like the stems of grasses and corn; others bear only flowers without leaves, and are soft and tender, like the primrose; and others are like that of the mushroom."

"Mushrooms, uncle," said Henry, "are mushrooms vegetables ?"

แ Yes, my boy," said Mr Dalben, "but of a nature

very different from other vegetables.-The fourth part of a plant, Henry," continued Mr. Dalben, 'is its leaves. You know what leaves are; they are the elegant clothings of our woods and forests, being for the most part of a fine green. Leaves are of endless variety with regard to their shape, and to them our woodland scenes owe all their shadowy beauties. Among these the birds make their dwelling, and they afford to the weary traveller a refreshing shade from the burning rays of the noonday sun. When Adam dwelt in Paradise, he had no other canopy than these to shelter him from the gentle dews of evening. And when the period of the millennium shall arrive, these will again become the only protection of the blessed subjects of our Lord; for in those glorious days they shall dwell quietly in the wilderness, and sleep in the woods. And now, my dear Henry," continued Mr. Dalben, "I have pointed out to you the four first parts of a plant, tell me how many more remain."

"Three, uncle," said Henry.

"True, my boy; and these are, the props, inflorescences, and fructifications. The prop is that leafy appendage which we see to some flowers and stems, such as the rose. The thorns also and bristles, or hairs, which we see in many flowers, are also called props. Can you point out to me any plants which you can recollect as having these?"

“Yes, uncle,” said Henry; "moss roses have hair upon them, and gooseberries have thorns."

"The inflorescence," continued Mr. Dalben, "is that beautiful part of a plant which is called the flower. These are of all colours and all shapes, wonderfully various, exquisitely beautiful, emitting the most delightful odours, and wanting nothing but immortality to render them fit to adorn the mansions of the blessed. But the sentence of death has passed on these beautiful works of God; and as they are the most lovely and otherwise perfect of his works in the natural world, so they are undoubtedly of all others the most perishable. -The seventh and last part of a plant,” continued Mr. Dalben, "is the fructification, which is that part which produces seed and fruit. It is from this part of the flower that persons who study these things are enabled to find out the classes of plants. Plants are divided into twenty-four classes. When you are older, my dear boy,

as I before said, I mean to explain these classes to you; but their names are now so difficult, that you could not remember them."

While Mr. Dalben was speaking to this effect, the owner of the garden appeared. He made a bow to Mr. Dalben, whom he knew very well; and looking at Henry, "Is that little Master Milner ?" he said; "I remember his dear papa at the very same age." So saying, he put his hand in his pocket, and presented him with a fine summer apple and two plums. Henry looked at Mr. Dalben for leave to take them, and having received the desired permission, he took out his pocket-knife, and dividing the apple, he gave half of it with one plum to his uncle. Mr. Dalben did not reject his little present; and as they were now sufficiently rested, they followed the gardener, who wished to show Mr. Dalben some beautiful flowers which he had in bloom, and some trees which he had lately graffed.

After having looked at these flowers, which were esteemed very precious on account of their rarity, Mr. Dalben cast his eyes on a moss rose full of buds and full-blown flowers, and after having contemplated it for a while, he said to the gardener," After all you have shown us, Mr. Baring, I still return to my original opinion, that there is no flower on earth in all respects equal to the moss rose."

"Sir," said the gardener, "I am much of the same opinion as you are. Take the rose for colouring, scent, and beauty of shape, I doubt whether it has its equal in the world."

"You know, Mr. Baring," said Mr. Dalben, "that our blessed Saviour compares himself in Solomon's Song to the rose: 'I am the rose of Sharon,' he says. Methinks I have ever loved the rose since I learnt that it has afforded a similitude to the perfections of the Saviour."

"Sir," said the gardener, "it is wonderful how many curious thoughts I have had since the time when you first began to talk to me about my trade as a gardener, showing me how honourable and distinguished a business it is, inasmuch as it was the business of the first man when in a state of innocence in Paradise. You have caused me to think better of my situation ever since, and have made me anxious that the chief glory of Eden, namely, the presence of God, should be found again in my garden.”