one little shop, there is the Tobacconist to his Serene Highnesssomebody--with a very long name -living in Poland, I think.

And it is pleasant to look at the houses. There are a few new brick houses, some of a dark red colour. Then, there are the old houses with bow windows. Here and there, a house more ancient still, with carved work upon it, and an archway underneath, which leads to somewhere. There are some houses with long pantiled roofs, while some seem to have no roof at all. There are the curious houses where the first floor rooms project over the shop, far into the street; and the second floor projects over these; and the third floor projects more still. Then comes the large square private house, with steps to the door-it is called the Mansion House,-and lastly the old fashioned grammarschool-as old as the alms-houses, perhaps.

It is pleasant, also, to stop at the market-place when it is market day, and the country folk come jolting in with their carts.-Sometimes, too, there is a town hall to look at, and sometimes a county jail, if you happen to be in the capital town.

But, oh, it is pleasanter still to go out to the church, and sit in the still churchyard. It is a very good place to think pleasant thoughts, and a place to learn to sing praises. The Clock there ticks to tell you to begin. Yes! that's a curious place for the clock-why did men stick it up there? Perhaps because the tale it ticks sounds so true from the midst of the dead-for, it moves round its hands to tell children and men that they're moving on to God. But the clock's tick is seldom heard, and

the poor hands, alas! they often find that they are making dumb motions to the deaf. Yet, then is the time for a living man to think of the graves beneath, and the world where he is, and the heaven above, and to remember that he belongs to all these.

I did not see so many places at KENDAL-but I saw very much that pleased me. There was the large broad High Street, which was very well paved, and another almost as large. There was a large church with a square tower -a town-hall-a free school, and a workhouse-they have a very clean and orderly workhouse.

I saw Kendal Castle on the opposite shore of the river Ken. It has circular walls, and three towers,-and, the view of the town and river from here is very fine.

I learned, too, that the articles manufactured at this town are woollen cloths, baizes, and worsted stockings. It was famous in old times for a coarse kind of green cloth, which the Archers used to wear. How fine they must have looked, dressed up in bright green coats. I have read in some old song book about the English Archers"arrayed in Kendal green."

I spent the whole day in this town, and did not return to APPELBY, the capital, as I had intended, for I found that I should have to, travel back more than twenty miles.

In the evening I heard an account of that town from a gentleman who had lived there, which you shall have in my next letter with the notes on Westmoreland, as I promised you before.

I am, dear children,
Your faithful friend,
HENRY YOUNG.

PERSPECTIVE.

THE HORIZONTAL LINE (Continued).

THE VANISHING POINT.

P. Last week, Ion, we made a drawing of a square, in which the middle of the square was on the same level as your eye.

Now, I will put a square before you, and will place it below your eye. What do you call the line which marks the height of the eye?

Ion. The horizontal line. P. Well, then, here is the horizontal line drawn with dots, and the square is below it. Which side of the square is nearest to the horizontal line-the right hand side or the left hand side?

Ion. They are both at the same distance, because the square is in front of me. But, please, papa, turn it round.

P. I will; here it is, at the side

of you.

L. Yes, that is drawn according to the rule we made last Saturday; for now the right nand side seems to get nearer to the horizontal line-because, as that side is more distant, the space between it and the level of the eye seems to become smaller.

Ion. So that, when lines are below the level of the eye, they must run up to it.

P. Well, that is another rulesay it again.

Ion. When we make a drawing level of the eye must run up to the in perspective, the lines below the

horizontal line.

P. Now, I will

put the square up higher than your head. See, it is placed above the horizontal line.

I am going now to turn it round,

with the left hand side near to you so imagine in your mind the further side.

Ion. I have thought of it, papa. P. Which side will be nearer to the horizontal line?

Ion. Why, the further side will seem to be, as it was in the other one. The space between the square and the level of the eye must seem to get smaller, as we said at first.

P. Then, in which direction will the lines run-up, or down?

Ion. Downward, papa. They must, for the space to become smaller. So I can make another rule-may I?

P. Yes.

Ion. When we make a drawing in perspective, with lines which are above the level of the eye, they must run down to the horizontal line.

L. And I suppose that if we were to make a number of squares in a long line, as the lines would all slant to the horizontal line, the distance from the squares to the line would get smaller and smaller

just as in the long row of squares we drew last week.

P. Yes.

I will make another drawing for you. Here is a front view of a

long wall, which is below the level of the eye.

Ion. Is that the level of the eye, papa, above the wall? Then, when you drew it, you must have been looking out of a drawing-room window from some house opposite.

P. Yes, so I was. Here, again, is a side view of it. I was in a house at the end of the wall when I drew this. I could see round the corner.

You see in this picture, how the distance from the lines of the wall

to the horizontal line seems to be gradually smaller-until the wall becomes so small that it seems to vanish altogether.

L. That is because, at last, there seems to be no distance between its lines and the horizontal line, for they all meet in one point.

P. And that point where the distance from the wall to the horizontal line is so small that you can hardly see it that point which is so far from the eye that the object seems to vanish entirely,-would you like to know what it is called? |

W. Yes, please, papa.

P. It is called THE VANISHING

POINT.

W. And that is exactly the proper name for it.-Now, papa, we have learned enough, so we will make up another lesson.

Come, Lucy, and bring the slate. Lesson 7. PERSPECTIVE. 1. When we draw objects in perspective, a line should be drawn

across the picture to show the level of the eye-so that we may know which objects are above the eye, and which are below it.

This line we call the HORIZONTAL LINE.

2. When we draw objects in perspective below the horizontal line, their lines must run up to that line.

3. When we draw objects in perspective above the horizontal line, the lines of the object must run down to that line.

4. The distant point on the horizontal line, where the lines of the object meet, is called the VANISHING POINT.

P. I have never seen a line run yet, Lucy. If you make a drawing and set the lines running, they will very soon be all gone, and you will have only the blank paper again.

L. I mean, papa, they slant to the horizontal line.

P. Ah, I thought that perhaps you meant that. The word I generally use is "incline," say they incline in such a direction.

17th Week.

HONESTY.

JAMES WALTERS.

P. What did we Honesty last week?

say about

L. We said that honesty means more than speaking the truth. It means being careful not to deprive any one of that which belongs to him.

P. Then, listen to another tale. Do you know West Street?

L. I do, papa.

P. At No. 4, West Street, once lived James Walters, who was 15 years old; Emily Walters, who was 8 years old; Margaret Martin, who was 59 years old; and her grandson, Jacob Martin, who was 13 years old.

They had only two rooms in that house on the second floor; and this is the way they arranged. Margaret, who attended to all three of the children, slept in the back bedroom with Emily, and the two boys slept in the front room on a sofa which was turned down every night, and thus changed into a bed. At 6 o'clock every morning they all got up; and, when Margaret and Emily were dressed, James and Jacob went into their room to wash. When they were all ready, the two boys and Emily went for a walk across the fields, while Margaret made ready their breakfast.

They were, all of them, busy during the day-so, the best time to see them was in the eveningjust before the candles were alight, when the fire made large shadows of their heads dance on the farthest wall in the room.

Moral Lesson.

Near the fire sat a little girl whe had just laid down her knitting, on purpose to stroke her large black cat, and make him comfortable that girl was Emily.

By the side of her sat the two boys, who were busy colouring some maps, by which they each earned 7d. a-day.

The boy with light hair, and good-natured blue eyes, who was dressed in black, with a turn-down collar, and a broad black ribbon for a tie, was James. The other, who had such a broad sober face, such a brown skin, and such woolly black hair, was Jacob.

And where was Margaret Martin? There she sat-good old soul-in a grand arm-chair, which seemed too fine to be in such a small house. Indeed all the furniture was very good, except that it was a little old fashioned.

Margaret could not go on with her work, and having declared it was "blind man's holiday," there she sat in the shade just resting and thinking a little. She laid down her spectacles and some "stand-up" collars which she had been making for James, and sat watching the boys. Ah, they would keep on painting, even by the red flickering light; and as her dim eyes began to blink at them, their heads had a misty look, and seemed to grow as large as the shadows. Then she began to muse.

"Poor dear James - I have always loved him as much as my own grandson Jacob. I have nursed him ever since he was born, and his little sister too-I nursed his

mother in the West Indies when she died-I saw his grandfather die. I was head nurse in his grandfather's house three years-in his father's house eighteen years. I helped to bring the children over to England with my own grandson, and, when their poor father was ruined and died, I nursed him too.

"Now, when very few of their friends are left, and the two poor children are orphans;-when trouble has come upon them, and they are poor, God has spared me, perhaps to see them grow up. Ah, I hope that Jamie and my own boy will both be good and honest men!" "Poor Jamie," she thought again -"his father little knew, when he paid so much to send him to school, and bought him learned books, and taught him learned things, that his boy would work for 7d. a-day. Never mind!-thank God for all things. May be He'll send brighter days yet."

And, just as she rose up to brighten the room by lighting the candles, and told Emily to sweep up the hearth, the beginning of brighter days came with a double

knock at the door.

It came on-with a sound of footsteps coming up stairs. Up two flight of stairs-then, Mr. Howard, a country friend, entered the room. "Good evening, Mrs. Martin! Ah, you have managed to make your charges look happy, in spite of all the troubles. I am glad to see you all so comfortable and well. Come here, Miss Emmie, and kiss your old godfather, and then I will give you some news.

"I have been this evening with a friend of mine, who is going to publish a newspaper. He says that he shall require a clerk to keep his accounts, and another lad to attend to office business, and

run errands. Would either of you like to run errands ?"

"Yes, sir, I would," said Jacob. "And do you think, sir," said James, "that I am good enough to be a clerk?"

"Yes, you will do, if you'll get some stand-up collars."

"Margaret is making some, sir. I have learned book-keeping at school, if that will be of use-and I can read Virgil-I learned something, too, of architecture, and astronomy, and the use of the globes."

"Very good; but you will not require all these things. You need not take your globe with you— only your pen and ink; but I think they will find that for you. But stop-yes, take with you some of the principles you have learned -the principles of truth, honesty, and the fear of God which your dear mother and nurse Margaret have taught you-and all the good principles which I hope you learned at school-they will fit you for life, more than all your learningand will do more to make you a good clerk than astronomy or architecture.

"So, to-morrow I intend you to go with me to the city; and if my friend approves of you, and God should spare you, you will have to begin duty next Monday week. You had better come round to the hotel to-morrow morning, at nine o'clock. Good bye."

I cannot tell you to-day of all the joyful things that were said that night-and of all that James and Jacob said they would do when they were men. What a bright evening it was! The candles flared uproariously, but neither they, nor anything else in the room, looked half so bright as the faces of James and Jacob.

(To be continued.)