THE FADING ROSE.

TORN from thy tree-ah, there thou liest !
Thy conscious leaves indignant close,
Weaker and weaker, till thou diest,
Dull, fading rose.

What, can no art thy strength revive!
No tender care thy charms disclose ?
No! for how can'st thou ere survive-
Dull, fading rose ?

Once to have left that parent tree,
Foster'd by which thy beauties rose,
Which yielded ever health to thee,
Dull, fading rose.

Thus when my soul rebellious strays
From Him who all its weakness knows,
Like thee it sickens, droops, decays,
Dull, fading rose.

Yet, unlike thee, it needs not die;
Jehovah's strength can heal its woes ;
He is thy hope Lord, save me!' cry,
Dull, fading rose.

Portsea.

W. C.

THE progress of decay has been rapid during the past month; and with few exceptions the leaves, whose varied tints gave a peculiarly soft beauty to the landscape in October, lie in a bed beneath our feet; yet the botanist is not left without some little interesting memorials of the departing year.

The ivy-leaved toad-flax (Linaria Cymbalaria) has a procumbent stem, leaves alternate, stalked; flowers pale purple, with a yellow palate, and short-pointed spurs; it grows on old walls, and gives a picturesque appearance to many an unsightly ruin, which it speedily mantles, after once taking root. It belongs to the same tribe as the large yellow toad-flax which blossomed in June, and although admitted amongst British plants, is supposed not to be a native of the country.

The periwinkle, which bloomed in May, again puts forth its flowers in sheltered pastures in the county of Sussex. The cheerful softness of the flowers, which are blue, delicately shaded, and the rich green of the leaves, accords well with the situations in which it is found. This plant is an universal favourite throughout

Europe. Amongst the lower orders in France it is called Violette des Sourciers, because it is said to be one of the plants that assisted the sorcerers in their pretended magical operations; they also called it Pucellage, virgin's flower. The Italians call it Centocchio, hundred eyes, or Fior di Morto, death's flower, because it is used in making garlands for the dead.

The Irish rose, (Rosa Hibernia) with its pink flowers, still adds beauty to the landscape in the sister island.

The annual meadow-grass (Poa Annua) has outlived the other members of its family; the general character of the grasses is too well known to need any description here. In England they grow from a few inches to a foot, or a foot and a half high, but in tropical countries some of them attain the height of twenty feet, and the sugar cane and bamboo, forty.

Besides these in mild November we occasionally see a straggling blossom of Herb Robert, Celandine and some other hardy ones.

The paucity of flowers in the hedges may be said to be, in measure, compensated for, by the maturity of many berries which afford sustenance to the numerous feathered songsters of the grove during the inclemency of winter.

Bare are the sloe and white-thorn there,
Of leaves the eglantine is bare,
But still, 'mid destitution, glows

The bright red berry of the rose;

Still glows, on leafless stem forlorn,

With red less bright, the berried thorn;

Still, with dark violet-coloured fruit,

And deep green leaves and straggling shoot,

The fence the prickly bramble robes;
And privet, hung with purple globes,
His foliage stains with changeful hue,
Of tawny bright and glossy blue.

E. J. S.

THANKFULNESS.

LATELY reading Mr. Hamilton's delightful tract on 'Thankfulness,' I was forcibly reminded of a friend in whom this virtue is eminently great; the commonest occurrences of life fill her heart with grateful joy. The sweet perfume wafted on the summer breeze from a nosegay in the hand of a passing stranger, lifts her heart in thankfulness to the great Creator with this reflection-that although He had not created them for her, He had permitted her to see their beauty, and taste their fragrance. Beholding in the grounds of a rich neighbour a beautiful flower flourishing in an unheeded spot, she looked upon her own pretty garden below and wished it there; then suddenly recollecting the giver of all good, she exclaimed, 'I thank thee, oh Father, it flourishes where I may see it, 'tis all thou hast given, 'tis all I ask.'

Fruit, that bounteous gift of summer, she views with the same thankful spirit, and whether the produce of her own trees, purchased or presented, she receives as immediately from the hands of the Creator, believing, as she has told me, that it was created for her. The same spirit of thankfulness pervades her whole walk, she never relieves the distressed without thanking God for permitting her to distribute his bounties. One day, (nor is this a solitary instance) being told by a poor woman who had just tasted of her liberality, that God

would reward her in heaven for her goodness, meaning of course there was self merit in her deeds: she replied, 'Friend, I owe my God a deep debt of gratitude in being thus permitted to do his work': and then told her that good works without faith, are dead. Yes, reader, my friend has cordially embraced the doctrine of salvation by faith, and daily by her life puts to silence the too frequently raised objection against this heavenly doctrine, that it is dangerous to morality. If you are living under its salutary influence, I am sure you know from happy experience, how false and futile such objections are; if not, pause ere you reject it, and bear with me while I tell you affectionately you believe it not, because you understand it not. The scriptures of truth plainly tell us the "carnal mind cannot understand the things of the Spirit, they are foolishness to it," unto which number your rejection of this mighty truth manifestly declares you to belong.

LUCY.