Has any person ever seen a vulgar-looking flower ? It is customary, I know, to call weeds vulgar; but that is an idle distinction, not admissible by any florist, to say nothing of botanists ; because some of the most exquisitely elegant of the race are trodden under our feet on the heaths, and plucked by children from the way-side hedge-row. Is the daisy vulgar'{ no, that " wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower" has been sung into importance. Is the poppy ? Why, if the common single species, that waves its loose petals among our corn, were introduced as a rare exotic, crowds would press to examine and to eulogize the depth of its splendid tint, with the singular mixture of jet black, so rare among the flowers. The dandelion, scornfully expelled from our gardens, is a minature sun, with its radiating petals of bright gold : and thus through every family of every tribe may be traced the workings of a skill that cannot be ungraceful. However, I willingly admit that some flowers are pre-eminent in elegance of structure, casting many others into comparative shade ; and if I prefer, on a very uncongenial day in Febuary, to remain within doors, and solace myself with the small garden that my stand exhibits, and what I have forced into bloom before they could have reared their heads above the surface of the frozen ground, I have a proof before me, that, among the native productions of our soil (and I deal with no other in these pages,) there are some that, for beauty of form and colouring, and richness of perfume, may vie with the proudest offspring of warmer latitudes. Behold the glass that adorns my mantle-piece, and tell me where to look for a lovelier flowret than the tall, rich, double hyacinth that shoots from it in a living plume ? I have watched its progress, from the first putting forth of those delicate suckers, whereby the watery nutriment is drawn up to the roots, until every white petal had unfolded, streaked with a warmer tint of rose-colour; and the whole flower stood arrayed in the majestic grace which now clothes it.

There are few positions more favourable to a prolonged reverie than that which I rarely indulge in—a seat just opposite the fire, when a cloudy day is about to close, and prudence recommends a short season of perfect idleness, after an early dinner, to avoid the head-ache, that might, by too sudden a return to study, be induced: verifying the home saying, 'more haste than good speed.' My morning's reading, too, has been of a character that requires digestion: that paragon of memorialists, John Foxe, has spread its mighty folio to my gaze ; and in the fire that burns before me, I can fancy the forms of heroic sufferers, chained to the stake, and mouldering away amid devouring flames. I loved John Foxe dearly, before I could well support one of his ponderous volumes : and many a time my little heart has throbbed almost to bursting, when, having deposited the book in a chair, and opened its venerable leaves, I leant upon the page, to pore over the narrative of some godly martyr. Especially did I love to read of Latimer and Ridley—those twins, born into the kingdom of glory together. At the age of seven years I made acquaintance with the beloved martyrologist; and great cause have I to be thankful for the impressions then left upon my infant mind. Facts are stubborn things; and I have found the record of those facts a valuable safeguard against attempts that were made to undermine my protestantism, before I was sufficiently grounded in the faith of the gospel to oppose them with the invincible shield.

'But why dwell on such themes now ? The days of martyrdom have long since passed away, In England, at least, wTe know nothing of the kind'.

True, so far as regards the open violence that could take away a man's life, under the sanctions of civil and ecclesiastical law : but do you believe that the spirit of popery is, in our day, one whit changed from what it was, when Smithfield kindled her faggots, to send the souls of God's people in fiery chariots to heaven ? No ! it is the deep device of the papacy to wrap its thunders in a cloud that none can penetrate—watching for a season that, by the infinite mercy of God, is yet retarded, when they may again be hurled, with blighting fury, upon the land that shall lie exposed to their bolts.

I have been marvelling at the rapid change wrought since I placed that root in the glass; a shapeless, unpromising thing, now arrayed in resplendent loveliness, rewarding a thousand-fold the care bestowed upon its culture. I can find a parallel most touchingly true ; and I will narrate the story, with the strictest adherence to simple, unadorned fact: not disguising time, or place. May the tale sink deep into the hearts of my readers !

It is pretty generally known that, in the year 1830, through the blessing of God on the efforts of a few Christian friends, a chapel was opened at Seven Dials, in London, where the Liturgy of our Church is used, and the pure gospel is preached in the Irish language. Such an assault upon the enemy, in the very heart one of his strongest holds, could not but lead to great excitement ; persecution, carried to the utmost extent short of murder, was the certain lot of those poor victims of popery who dared to inquire what they should do to be saved, and join the congregation of the zealous servant of God, who had left some comfortable preferment in his native land, to assume the office of a missionary among his wretched countrymen here. Many were, however, found to encounter the worst that man could do, rather than forego the word, the sweetness of which they had once been brought to taste : and to this hour, a little flock is regularly assembling, who, having cast away the trammels of popish delusion, are able, even in the extremity of wretchedness and want, to rejoice in Christ as their only and all-sufficient Saviour. It was in the spring of 1831, that a Scripture-; reader, attached to the Irish church and school, was visited one evening by a young countryman, who requested his assistance in penning a memorial or petition, by which he hoped to obtain some employment. It appeared that he was a most extravagant and dissipated character, who had, through his own vicious conduct, forfeited every advantage that he acquired. Still, being ' a good Catholic' all was right with him ; and the sins for which, with sixpence, he could any day purchase absolution, never gave him a moment's concern.