one foot high. The figure of it somewhat resembles that of a rat. In the months of June and July, the beavers assemble, and form a society, which generally consists of more than two hundred. They always fix their abode by the side of a lake or river; and, in order to make a dead water above and below, they erect, with incredible labour, a dam, or pier, perhaps fourscore or a hundred feet long, and ten or twelve feet thick at the base. When this dike is completed, they build their several apartments, which are divided into three stories. The first is beneath the level of the mole, and is for the most part full of water. The walls of their habitations are perpendicular, and about two feet thick. If any wood project from them, they cut it off with their teeth, which are more serviceable than saws; and by the help of their tails they plaster all their works with a kind of mortar, which they prepare of dry grass and clay mixed together. In August or September, they begin to lay up their stores of food; which consists of the wood of the birch, the plane, and of some other trees. Thus they pass the gloomy winter in ease and plenty. These two American animals, contrasted with each other, afford a most striking picture of the blessings of industry, and the penury and wretchedness of sloth.

Charlotte and Olivia.

Olivia, TELL me what story you have been reading now, Charlotte, and we'll see what we are to learn from that.

Charlotte. I was reading in the 2d book of Kings, chapter II., about the children that mocked the prophet Elisha, and how two she-bears came out of the wood and tore forty-two of them to pieces.

Olivia. That is a very remarkable story indeed : what did you think when you read it?

Charlotte. I thought they were very wicked chil

dren; and God showed how angry he was with them, by letting the bears kill them.

Olivia. That was a very good thought. You remember what they said, don't you?

Charlotte. Yes, "Go up, thou baldhead, Go up, thou baldhead."

Olivia. Well! and what made it so wicked in them to say so? for 'tis to be thought 'twas true that the prophet was bald.

Charlotte. I suppose 'twas because they spake it to deride and jeer him; did they not?

Olivia. Yes, to be sure they did. They could not think what to say to express their scorn and contempt of this holy man, and so jeered him on account of a natural defect. And sure this should be a caution to all children (who are but too prone to this evil), never to express their contempt of others, by mentioning any natural or accidental infirmity or defect.

Charlotte. I did not think of this use of the story before; but, as you say, 'tis indeed a very common thing, when we would show our anger against any, to call them crooked, hump-backed, bald-pated, oneeyed, or whatever other imperfection they may have; which this story convinceth me is very wrong.

Olivia. It is indeed; and, as my papa told me when I read it to him, I should consider that 'tis both foolish and wicked. "Tis very silly to reflect on any one for what he can't help; and 'tis very wicked, as 'tis indeed reflecting on God himself, who made us all, and, for wise reasons, permitted those defects in nature, or suffered those accidents to befall them by which they came. And the dreadful lot of those children, methinks, should be enough to check us, whenever we find any inclination so much as to entertain a thought of this nature; much rather ought we to turn our minds to thankfulness and praise to our gracious God, who has formed us so perfect, and

preserved us from being maimed or deformed by such disasters.

Profane Swearing.

Of all the vicious habits to which children are liable, in common with those of more advanced years, that of profane swearing is, at once, one of the most impious and daring the most low and degrading-the most senseless and inexcusable. Yet, in walking our streets, how often, alas! are our ears assailed with this most profane and disgusting language. How often do we hear the children of Christian parents, with the most careless levity, introducing into their ordinary conversation that great and awful name, which the Jew and the Mahometan never venture to pronounce without the most scrupulous veneration; appealing to it in testimony of the truth of the most insignificant assertions, and, whenever they are out of humour, invoking the most horrid imprecations either upon their own heads, or upon the heads of those who may have happened to give them the most trifling or imaginary ground of offence. Surely a single moment's reflection ought to be sufficient to convince even the youngest, and most thoughtless and inconsiderate offender of this description, of the heavy guilt, as well as extreme folly, of such conduct. It is a vice obviously directed against the Majesty of Heaven itself against that High and Holy Being, who hath himself given us his most positive commandment to swear not at all, neither by heaven, neither by the earth, neither by any other oath; and hath at the same time given us his most solemn warning, that he will not hold him guiltless who taketh his name in vain, and that for every idle word which we shall speak, he will call us into judgment. And, while the language in question is thus highly offensive to God, it is, at the same time, most dis

gusting to every well-regulated mind, and can give satisfaction to no human being whatever. Those even, who, themselves, are addicted to this most degrading vice, are not always the last to feel horror and disgust, when they hear the same or similar language in the lips of an associate. It is language, accordingly, which cannot now be tolerated in any polite society. It is the habitual language only of the profligate and abandoned-the language of those lawless bands who set God and man alike at defiance -the language, finally, which imagination has ever figured to itself as belonging to those degraded and unhappy spirits, whose blasphemous contempt of the authority of Heaven has consigned them to the dire mansions of despair. If such be the black character of this vice, what, on the other hand, is the temptation which it holds out to any one, to induce him to become or to continue its slave? If it be alike odious in the sight of God and man, what is the countervailing pleasure, or profit, which it yields to its degraded votary? This is a question to which it will not be easy for the most practised proficient in profanity to return any answer. It is, in truth, one of the most unaccountable circumstances connected with this once prevailing (but now, happily, every day decreasing) vice, that it is utterly destitute of temptation or inducement of any description whatever. In many it is a habit acquired from evil company in early youth, which has grown with their growth, and strengthened with their strength. Let this be an additional inducement to children to be ever upon their guard against the first inroads of this pernicious habit, which, when it has acquired the ascendency, they may not, in mature years, find it easy to shake off, even when beheld in all its hideous deformity.*

*This piece, as original, is borrowed from the National School Collection.

Derbyshire Caverns.

THE young party rose the next morning with high expectations of entertainment, from the examination of a chain of caverns that is situated at the foot of a vast range of rocks, thrown up naturally on the side of a steep mountain, upon which stands an old castle, said to have been built in the time of Edward the Black Prince. The entrance is very spacious, and forms a circular arch, opening, to the astonishment of the beholder, into a grey, sparry rock of limestone. Here they were met by the guide, who gains a livelihood by conducting strangers into the recesses of the cavern. They followed their conductor into the outer porch. At first the light was pretty strong, but every step they advanced the gloom increased. The melancholy twilight of this vast vault is enlivened by two manufactories that are carried on within the place. The busy scene, so unexpected, was very pleasing, especially to Louisa, whose little heart began to flutter as she entered these dreary regions. On one side were the young girls belonging to the inkle manufactory, turning the wheels, winding thread, and amusing their companions with cheerful songs; whilst the rope-makers opposite to them were spinning cords, and twisting cables, or forming them into coils. She was not less surprised at observing two houses in this subterranean apartment, entirely separate from the rock, with roofs, chimneys, doors, and windows, and inhabited by several families. The young girls surrounded them in groups, some offering to show them the manufactories, others presenting pieces of spar found in the cavern, in hopes they would purchase some. Mrs Middleton, after satisfying them with a little money, took each of her daughters by the hand, and kept close behind Mr Franklin and the boys, who followed the steps of the