without inconvenience, and now we do not know that

it moves. Emily.

humours?

But what further is the use of these

Mamma. They perform different offices in enabling us to see clearly; if any disease or injury happens to only a part of the eye, the sight is affected.

Emily. You said that there were muscles, and nerves, and arteries, and veins, and vessels, called absorbents, all over the body; are there any belonging to the eye?

Mamma. Yes, there is an adequate supply of each. Frank. But how exceedingly small they must be to go into such a little space.

Mamma. Yes, they are very minute, and yet as carefully and wonderfully made, and as much adapted to answer the exact purpose, for which they are intended as the larger ones which are found elsewhere.

Emily. I want to know where it is that tears come from when we cry?

Mamma. They come from what is called the lachrymal gland, which is situated within the external angle of the orbit; its office is to secrete the tears, which are conveyed to the eye by little tubes or ducts, six or eight in number; they open upon the internal surface of the upper eye-lid. The fluid which moistens the eye, and the tears which do not flow down the cheeks are conveyed by a little apparatus into the nose. There are two small orifices, one of which is seen at the extremity of each eyelid, near the inner angle or corner, which are the external commencements of two small tubes, which go towards the inner angle of the eye, and then ter

minate in a little bag, called the lachrymal sea, about the size of a horse-bean, from whence is a tube which descends into the nose, and is called the nasal duct. Between the two orifices above mentioned is a reddish oblong body, like a wart, called the lachrymal caruncle, which may be distinctly seen by looking at any eye. Tears are one of those things called secretions, and processes which form these, are constantly going on in the body, besides all the other operations about some of which I have told you, such as the circulation of the blood. Try now and remember the principal things which you have learnt about the eye.

Frank. It is placed in the best situation possible in the body—both for seeing and for safety.

Emily. And is protected by the skull, the eyebrows, eye-lashes, and eye-lids.

Frank. It has four coats: the sclerotica, the cornea, the choroid, and the retina.

Emily. And three humours: the vitreous, the crystalline, and the aqueous.

Jane. I remember about the coloured part of the eye, mamma; it is called the iris, and has a little round hole in it called the pupil.

Mamma. You are right, Jane; I am glad you remembered that.

Frank. The retina is the expansion of the optic nerve, which forms a sort of hollow cup round the eye, after having gone through a hole in the sclerotica and cornea; and the things we see are reflected upon this through the pupil.

Mamma. And where are the humours placed?

Frank. The vitreous, next to the retina; then the crystalline, which you said was called a lens,

and then the aqueous and the iris was in this hu mour. Then, mamma, after all, we do not see with our eyes?

Mamma. No, my dear, they are but the instruments or means of our seeing. You do not see with spectacles or with a magnifying-glass-yet they both serve to make objects more distinct to you. The eye, from being a living thing, though it performs the same kind of office, does it much more perfectly; and it was from observing the manner in which the eye was framed, that men learnt to make glasses or lenses for various purposes.

Frank. Then the brain and the nerves going from it, are the only things which feel.

Mamma. Exactly so. How very very thankful we should be to God, for the blessing of sight; for without this how much enjoyment we should have lost!

Frank. There are very few blind people compared with the number who can see.

Mamma. Very few indeed; and when we know the fine and delicate manner in which this beautiful organ is made, it is astonishing that a much greater number of persons are not blind. This teaches us, my dear children, what cause we have for gratitude to our gracious God, "who daily loadeth us with benefits," and who makes our bodies the means of adding to our comforts, instead of becoming sources of pain.

M.

[To be continued.]

RECOLLECTIONS OF IRELAND.

No. V.

THE OUTCAST.

By the Author of 'A Visit to my Birth-place,' &c.

As I was lately walking through the park of Versailles, after having fatigued myself by rambling in the gardens of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, I looked from side to side in search of a shady seat, where I might repose and pursue the meditations into which I had fallen. The latter part of my plan was frustrated by the following occurrence, which was the means of diverting my mind from the follies and misfortunes of the court and age of Louis XVI., to the Recollections of my own dear land. An old, and apparently poor man, holding a book in his hand, approached me; and apologising with French courtesy, offered to shew me the way, which, from my manner, he supposed I had lost. I thanked him, and after the interchange of a few words, he proceeded with me and my companion in search of the desired seat. I was surprised to find him possessed of much classical and historical information; concluding that, as a stranger, I was ignorant of the history of France, he explained many little circum

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stances connected with the scenes we saw, but amused me by evidently avoiding all allusion to the tragic events with which they were so strongly identified. My questions, however, were too numerous to be always evaded, and he was finally obliged in plain terms to inform me the French had 'assassinated Louis XVI,' prefacing the confession however, by the words, as you did in England to Charles I.' I was both pleased and amused with the simplicity of the old man; he was a staunch Bourbon. As we kept together while I remained in the park, our conversation ultimately turned on religious subjects: he shewed me a place appropriated to Sunday dances, and when I objected to the practice, exclaimed, 'Ah! vous etes Protestant;' and added, there was a Protestant or evangelical chapel close by where he had gone and been so charmed, that he had wept like an infant. He spoke in the warmest terms of the minister he had heard, as a man 'wellinformed,' whose simplicity and affection, and the earnestness of his exhortations had produced a great effect on his feelings, and declared his intention of attending his chapel while he remained in the neighbourhood.

And here, said I to myself, is a native of a Roman Catholic country, a Roman Catholic by birth and education, if not in principle, openly frequenting Protestant worship, and freely expressing his satisfaction in it. And Ireland-ah! my poor unhappy country, tenfold more deeply has the spirit of Popery spread its shades over you, and tenfold more strongly does its iron grasp enchain the minds and liberties of your children. A conversation I afterwards had with the minister of the evangelical chapel he alluded