but above all, the APOSTLE to the Hebrews, expressly defines afflictions to be the distinguishing marks of the favourites of Heaven: "For," says he, "whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth."

There is one thing, indeed, namely, the confinement necessarily attendant on bodily indisposition, which by many may be accounted a sore evil; particularly to those who like your correspondent have been accustomed to ram ble abroad in the days of health “ through the fields of nature," and converse with his God among the beauties of creation-But the contemplative man is never alone! He needs only to think to be sensible of the presence a DEITY in every situation; and "where HE vítal breathes, there must be joy."

of

There is no occasion for going into the fields in quest of an object to remind him of his Maker, or for a bean stalk to demonstrate the perfections of his bountiful preserver from-No! HE can never be at a loss for a fit subject to lecture upon, unless it were possible for him to fly beyond the bounds of creation and the region of existences. Even a common feather, which has long been esteemed as "a trifle light as air," (and become proverbial for the smallness of its value,) bears upon the wings of the wind the momentous truth; and I need go no farther than the PEN with which I now write, to furnish the TOM BRAGWELL'S of the present day with an antidote to atheism.

Such indeed is the contrivance manifested in this curious piece of organised matter, that a late popular writer* has selected it for the express purpose of pointing out the wis dom of God displayed in its wonderful mechanism; and I conceive that I cannot do better at this time than present your juvenile readers, in the words of that writer, with the WONDERS

*Dr. PALEY.

WONDERS OF A PEN.

"EVERY feather is a mechanical wonder. If we look the quill, we find properties not easily brought together,— rength and lightness. I know few things more remarkble than the strength and lightness of the very pen with hich I am writing. If we cast our eye to the upper part the stem, we see a material, made for the purpose, used I no other class of animals, and in no other part of birds; ugh, light, pliant, elastic. The pith, also, which feeds e feathers, is, amongst animal substances, neither bone, esh, membrane, nor tendon.*

"But the artificial part of a feather is the beard, or, sit is sometimes, I believe, called, the vane. The sc-" arate pieces or lamina, of which the beard is composed, re called threads, sometimes filaments, or rays. Now the rst thing which an attentive observer will remark is, how uch stronger the beard of the feather shows itself to be, hen pressed in a direction perpendicular to its plane, han when rubbed, either up or down, in the line of the tem; and he will soon discover the structure which occaons this difference, viz. that the lamina whereof these

eards are

composed, are flat, and placed with their flat ides towards each other; by which means, whilst they asily bend for the approaching of each other, as any one ay perceive by drawing his finger ever so lightly upards, they are much harder to bend out of their plane, hich is the direction in which they have to encounter the mpulse and pressure of the air, and in which their trength is wanted, and put to the trial.

inal fibres.

*The quill part of a feather is composed of circular and longituIn making a pen you must scrape off the coat of circular bres, or the quill will split in a ragged, jagged manner, making hat boys call cat's teeth.

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This is one particularity in the structure of a feather; a second is still more extraordinary. Whoever examines a feather, cannot help taking notice, that the threads or lamine of which we have been speaking, in their natural state unite; that they are not parted asunder without some degree of force; that nevertheless there is no glutinous cohesion between them; that, therefore, by some mechanical means or other, they catch or clasp among themselves, thereby giving to the beard or vane its closeness and com pactness of texture. Nor is this all: when two lamina, which have been separated by accident or force, are brought together again, they immediately reclasp: the connexion, whatever it was, is perfectly recovered, and the beard of the feather becomes as smooth and firm as if nothing had happened to it. Draw your finger down the feather, which is against the grain, and you break, probably, the junction of some of the contiguous threads; draw your finger up the feather, and you restore all things to their former state. This is no common contrivance and now for the mechanism by which it is effected.

t

:

The threads or laminæ abovementioned are interlaced with one another and the interlacing is performed by means of a vast number of fibres, or teeth, which the laminæ shoot forth on each side, and which hook and grapple together. A friend of mine counted fifty of these fibres in one twentieth of an inch. These fibres are crooked; but curved after a different manner; for those, which proceed from the thread, on the side towards the extremity of the feather, are longer, more flexible, and bent downward ; whereas those which proceed from the side towards the beginning, or quill end of the feather, are shorter, firmer, and turn upwards. The process then which takes place, is as follows: when two lamina are pressed together so that these long fibres are forced far enough over the short

ones

nes, their crooked parts fall into the cavity made by the rooked parts of the others; just as the latch that is fasened to a door, enters into the cavity of the catch fixed to he door-post, and there hooking itself, fastens the door; or it is properly in this manner, that one thread of a feather is fastened to the other."

These are facts which cannot be disputed, for the invenion of the microscope has put them beyond a doubt. Yet hese facts, wonderful as they may appear, are generally overlooked in the vortex of pleasure, and the hurry of business; for how few are there, not only amongst the thoughtless and giddy Tyro's at school, but in the number of the more considerate sons of the counting-house, who if asked what they held in their hand, would be apt to give a better answer than did JOHN CARELESS" It is only a pen!"

T

It is another great advantage, therefore, of bodily afflic tion, (and that not a small one) to those busy mortals, who toil incessantly at the oar of life, and scarcely know what leisure is, that the confinement which it occasions, produces solitude, and solitude, especially in intervals of ease, gives its sons time to reflect; to call in their wandering thoughts, and to "stand still" (if I may use the expression,)" and consider the wondrous works of God."

It was this that made one of the greatest philosopher's of Germany* exclaim, "I am indebted to my malady for having led me to make a closer scrutiny and more accurate observation on my own character;"-and the contemplative philosopher of Switzerland+ to acknowledge, that although "Health is certainly essential to happiness, there are circumstances and situations under which the privation of it may be attended with tranquillity."

PP 2

"How

* GARVE.

+ZIMMERMAN.

"How frequently," says he, "have I returned thanks to God when indisposition has prevented me from going abroad, and enabled me to recruit my weakened powers in solitude and silence!-One single day passed undisturbed at home in literary leisure affords to my mind more real pleasure than the circles of fashionable entertainment are able to bestow."

"The wisdom that teaches us to avoid the snares of the world is not to be acquired by the incessant pursuit of entertainments; by flying without reflection from one party to another; by continual conversation on low and trifling subjects. "He who would acquire true wisdom,” says a celebrated philosopher, "must learn to live in solitude.”

"It is not, alas! in the temples of pleasure, in those meetings where every one drains the cup of folly to its lowest dregs, in those coteries where vulgar gaiety resorts, in brilliant assemblies, or at luxurious boards, that the mind acquires those refined and exalted notions which restrain the sensual appetites, ennoble the pleasures of life, bring futurity to view, and banish from a short and transitory existence an inordinate fondness for the dissipations of the world. It is in solitude alone that we are capable of averting our eyes from those dangerous scenes, and casting them towards the celestial Providence which protects us.-The bright image of our Creator appears to us in solitude on every side."

The same author elsewhere observes, that "The knowledge of ourselves is in solitude more easily and effectually acquired than in any other situation, for we there live in habits of the strictest intimacy with our own bosoms. In the silence of solitude we truly discover the inward complexion of the heart; and learn not only what the characters of men are, but what, in truth they ought to be ;" and again-"How many new and useful discoveries may be

made