while another standing at the top of the cliff, by means of a stick, was to help the person to scramble upward, he was to rest the feet, however, no where but with caution and gentleness. In this way, the summit of Vesuvius was again reached by each of the adventurers without accident, but in a state of exhaustion and fatigue, and covered with ashes and smoke. The six of the party who had not essayed this descent into the volcano, received their wearied friends with joy, supplying them with refreshments that were needful to them.

This excursion was made with no view more impor tant, says the Journal de Physique, than to try the possibility of reaching the centre of the crater, and to show the practicability of the philospher, the naturalist, and chemist, exploring at their leisure this great furnace of nature. The variety of matters that form the constituent elements of it afford an ample field for chemical research; from which, perhaps, might be elicited discove, ries important in art or science.

REVENGE. Banish all malignant and revengeful thoughts. A spirit of revenge is the very spirit of the devil; than which nothing makes a man more like him, and nothing can be more opposite to the temper which Christianity was designed to promote. If your revenge be not satisfied, it will give you torment now; if it be, it will give you greater hereafter. None is a greater self-tormentor, than a malicious and revengeful man, who turns the poison of his own temper in upon himself. The Christian precept in this case is, "Let not the sun, go down upon your wrath;" and this precept, Plutarch tells us, the Pythagoreans practised in a literal sense: "who, if at any time, in a passion, they broke out into opprobrious language, before sunset, gave one another their hands, and with them a discharge from all injuries; and so, with a mutual reconciliation, parted friends."Mason.

THE day had been a day of wind and storm;
The wind was laid, the storm was overpast;
And stooping from the zenith, bright and warm
Shone the great sun on the wide earth at last.
I stood upon the upland slope and cast
My eye upon a broad and beauteous scene,

Where the vast plain lay girt by mountains vast,
And hills o'er hills lifted their heads of green,

With pleasant vales scooped out and villages between.

The rain drops glistened on the trees around,

Whose shadows on the tall grass were not stirred, Save when a shower of diamonds, to the ground, Was shaken by the flight of startled bird;

For birds were warbling round, and bees were heard About the flowers; the cheerful rivulet sung

And gossiped, as he hastened ocean-ward;

To the gray oak, the squirrel, chiding clung,

And chirping from the ground the grasshopper upsprung.

And from beneath the leaves that kept them dry
Flew many a glittering insect here and there,

And darted up and down the butterfly,

That seemed a living blossom of the air.

The flocks came scattering from the thicket, where The violent rain had pent them; in the way

Strolled groups of damsels frolicksome and fair

The farmer swung the scythe or turned the hay,

And 'twixt the heavy swaths his children were at play.

It was a scene of peace-and, like a spell,

Did that serene and golden sunlight fall

Upon the motionless wood that clothed the fell,
And precipice upspringing like a wall,

And glassy river and white waterfall,

And happy living things that trod the bright

And beauteous scene; while far beyond them all,

On many a lovely valley, out of sight,

Was poured from the blue heavens the same soft golden light.

I looked, and thought the quiet of the scene
An emblem of the peace that yet shall be,
When, o'er earth's continents and isles between,
The noise of war shall cease from sea to sea,
And married nations dwell in harmony;
When millions, crouching in the dust to one,

No more shall beg their lives on bended knee,
Nor the black stake be dressed, nor in the sun

The o'er laboured captive toil, and wish his life were done,

Too long, at clash of arms amid her bowers

And pools of blood, the earth has stood aghast,
The fair earth, that should only blush with flowers
And ruddy fruits; but not for aye can last

The storm, and sweet the sunshine when 'tis past.
Lo, the clouds roll away-they break-they fly,
And like the glorious light of summer, cast

O'er the wide landscape from the embracing sky,

On all the peaceful world the smile of heaven shall lie.

Bryant,

THE BAOBAB TREE.

Adansonia Digitata

THIS superb tree is a native of the burning climate of Africa. It is supposed, by the inhabitants of a shore which abounds with gigantic shrubs, to be the largest and most majestic production of the vegetable kingdom; and, from its enormous size and noble appearance, it well merits the title of Monarch of the Forest. Its trunk, which is scarcely ever known to exceed fifteen feet in height, often measures no less than eighty in circumference. The lower branches, which are adorned with tufts of leaves, extend from its side horizontally, and bending by their great weight towards the earth, form a mass of verdure no less astonishing in size than beautiful in appearance. The circumference of a full-grown tree, measuring the circle which surrounds the branches, is said in some cases to be as much as four hundred and fifty feet; when of this size, its bulk is so enormous that, at a distance, it bears a greater resemblance to an overgrown forest than to a single tree. It is beneath the grateful shade of its spreading boughs that the wearied Negroes lie down, when scorched by the burning sun of their sultry climate; and it is the friendly shelter of its overhanging branches that the benighted traveller seeks, when overtaken or threatened with a storm. The countries of Africa which are particularly favourable to the production of this tree, and in which it chiefly flourishes, are those which lie along the coast and shores of the Niger, as far down as the kingdom of Benin,

The blossoms are as gigantic in proportion as the tree which bears them; they begin usually to appear about the month of July. The fruit ripens towards the latter end of the month of October, or in the early part of November. It differs greatly in its shape; sometimes it is found of an oblong form, pointed at both ends; at other times, it is said to be perfectly globular; and it often bears a shape in medium between these two. In its size it differs as considerably as in its shape. It is covered with a green rind or shell, which, however, as it dries, becomes of a dark fawn colour, and often assumes a deep brown. It is very prettily marked and ornamented with rays, and is suspended from the tree by a pedicle or stalk, the length of which is nearly two feet. The fruit, when broken, exhibits to the eye a spongy substance of a pale chocolate colour, containing much juice. Its seeds are brown, and in shape resemble a kidney-bean. The bark of the tree is nearly an inch in thickness, of an ash-coloured grey, greasy to the touch, and very smooth; the exterior is adorned with a description of varnish; while the inside is of a brilliant green, beautifully speckled with bright red. The wood itself is white, and very soft and penetrable, and is said to possess many very peculiar virtues, which are held in much esteem by the Negroes.

The age of this tree is not the least extraordinary part of its history. From names and dates which appear to have been carved upon some of them by Europeans, we are led to conclude that they were in existence five or six centuries ago. The leaves, when the tree is in its earliest infancy, are of an oblong shape, about four or five inches in length, having several veins running from the middle rib of a beautiful and bright green; as the plant advances in growth, and increases in height and size, the shape of the leaves alters, and they become divided into three parts; afterwards, when the tree has attained its complete growth, and become a full-sized and vigorous vegetable, these three divisions increase to five, and the leaf assumes a shape not unlike that of the human hand.