tive eye. It is singular that our common cattle, the aurochs or European bison, and the bison of America should each differ in the number of the ribs. The domesticated ox has but thirteen pairs, the aurochs fourteen, and the American bison fifteen pairs. These wild cattle of the New World are sometimes, though improperly, called buffaloes, but the name is of small importance, the chief fact calling for notice being the countless hosts which spread over the prairies. Some of these droves are estimated at 20,000 head of majestic cattle, many being eight feet long, and weighing nearly eighteen hundredweight each. No wonder is it that the fiercest wars between the Indians and the white races should arise from the intense desire of the red men to keep the magnificent hunting-grounds of the bison regions for themselves. If the white man should advance, as he surely will, the bison will depart or perish, for the European slaughters them by tens of thousands for the hides and tallow only. Nor will this be matter for wonder, when it is remembered that 150 pounds weight of fat are obtained from the best animals, and that the hides are so valuable as to have been called 'Californian banknotes." Then the white man is grieved at the dearness of meat in the crowded homes of civilisation, and is forming societies for preserving bison beef, and transporting it to the meat market of England. The red man has heard of this, and is gloomily pondering over the one great article of his creed, "If white man comes, bison goes." But the departure or destruction of these wonderful herds means the annihilation of the red tribes. Therefore is it that, even while we are reading these lines, the rifles are flashing along the Indian frontiers. The bison is the main cause of the contest. "Why don't the red men plough the ground? then there would be lots of food, and to spare," cries the exasperated white settler, whose house has been burnt by the savages. There is just the difficulty. The Indian will not plough; therefore he must hunt; therefore he relies on the bison; and therefore he tries, but all in vain, to stop, even with rifle and tomahawk, the white man's resistless march. Such is the importance of one member of the ox family in the far West. Every poor man in England has an interest in the matter. If the Indian would become a tiller of the soil, then science would soon find means for sending to Europe the fine bison meat now left on the prairies for the wolves and vultures. Some of the flesh has for years been imported, but its appearance does not, as hitherto presented, attract the ordinary purchaser.

Another American animal, the musk-ox (Ovibos muschatus), is remarkable for three peculiarities-the shape and size of its singular horns, the great length of the fine hair, and the fondness of the animals for the wild deserts of the North American wastes. These herds wander far within the Arctic circle, disputing for the lichens and northern herbage with their rivals, the reindeer. Often is a solitary Esquimaux tribe roused from its torpor by the appearance of a herd of musk-oxen, thirty or forty in number, which thus offer to the wild people of the Arctic shores a prospect of high feasting and jollity. Clothing, too, equal to the highest notion of an Esquimaux belle, is furnished by the beautiful hair of the musk-ox, which is twisted into many a curious form by the damsels of the frigid zone. The name given to this ox by the Cree Indians signifies "ugly bison," and this, though not complimentary, is much more suitable than the absurd name of musk-ox. The designation of "little bison," given by some Indian tribes, is much more appropriate. The scientific name, Ovibos, assumes that the animal combines the qualities of the sheep (ovis) with those of the ox.

The buffalo of South Africa (Bos Caffer) is immediately distinguished from his American relative by the absence of the shaggy mane, the large spreading horns, and the more massive form of the body. These animals resemble the bisons in two respects the tendency to associate in large herds, and their desperate courage when wounded.

We must omit any detailed description of the Abyssinian ox, having its horns hanging as it were by hooks to the head; of the zebu, or sacred bull of India, as gentle, and yet as impudent, as

a spaniel; and of various other species, simply from want of space. The above references will suffice to suggest to the reader the wide extent of the ox family.

As these animals are classed among the Ruminants, a few remarks are necessary on the complex stomachs belonging to each quadruped of the order. Every reader is probably aware that all ruminants masticate their food a second time; or rather,

The

first swallow, and then, after some time, commence the chewing process, called "ruminating" by the learned, and "chewing the cud" by the peasant. Let us trace this process in our wellknown friend the cow. We see the tongue collecting a mouthful of grass into a small bundle, which is then nipped off by the combined action of the teeth of the lower jaw and the grasping power of the muscular lips. It will be observed that the cow does not pause to masticate the grass, but swallows, or, as some would say, "bolts" the whole. The matter, thus speedily disposed of, is deposited for awhile in the first stomach or rumen, which serves as a kind of cupboard or store-room, in which the food is kept till wanted for further operations. It consists of four small sub-divisions, and the coat is covered with thousands of little elevations, which doubtless produce some chemical change on the newly-received food. diseases of this stomach often demand the attention of the rustic "cow doctor," and even of the skilled veterinary surgeon. Here are frequently formed dangerous concretions of hardened vegetable or even mineral matters. The once famous bezoar stones, supposed to be universal remedies against poisons, were simply formed by disease in the stomach of the wild goat of Persia. These masses of phosphate of lime have been sold for five or six times their weight of gold! From this first large stomach the food descends into the second, much smaller, but exceedingly complex in structure. It is covered with multitudes of small cells, from which it is often called the honeycomb bag. The food is so acted upon in this receptacle as to take usually the form of compact and rounded masses, which are returned from this second stomach, by a peculiar muscular action, through the gullet into the mouth. Then begins the process properly called ruminating, during which the cow seems to enjoy the very perfection of animal bliss. As each portion of the food is re-masticated, it is passed from the mouth direct into the third stomach. This is accomplished by the closing of the tube which leads to the first and second stomachs. This third receptacle is very small, and is called the manyplus, from the numerous folds, arranged like the leaves of a book, of which it is composed. Between these active folds the food rests a short time, and is then passed into the fourth or true stomach, where the final processes of digestion are completed. This short description will perhaps suffice to show how exceedingly complex is the organisation by which grass is gradually changed into beef. Many other peculiarities of structure must be passed over for the present, our only reasonI being want of space to treat such topics satisfactorily.

Allusion has been already made to the gigantic horns of some ancient oxen; and many readers will doubtless recollect those famous historical drinking horns, still held as heir-looms by some old families, especially those of Aubrey and Pusey. The Borstal horn was the symbol by which Edward the Confessor conveyed a large estate to one Nigel, who killed a savage boar which had imperilled the person of royalty in the neighbourhood of the palace at Brill. From the family of Nigel the treasured horn has descended, with the Borstal estate, to that of Aubrey. The Pusey horn, above two feet long, has an inscription which declares it was delivered by that descendant of Odin, King Canute, to " Wyllyam Puyse." Such ox-horns truly deserve their honours.

We must not, however, forget the extraordinary veneration for the ox in ancient days, the solemn worship paid to his highness while living, the national mourning for him when dead. and the embalming of his venerable body, for the admiration of after ages. It was not, indeed, every ox which was thus honoured, even in Egypt. That would have been too expensive even for the Pharaohs. But the homage paid to Apis at Mem phis, and his brother Mnevis at Heliopolis,* must have shed a reflected splendour on all humble bovida. Nor must we forget the honours paid to the bull at Nineveh, where the figure of the animal was combined with the human and cherubic forms. The man-headed and winged bulls now in the British Museum attest the extraordinary veneration for the ox "that eateth hay." Even at this day India regards the white bull as a symbol of her great divinity, Siva.

In all these rude, wild, and pagan customs we may trace the feeling of great benefits flowing to mankind from the docility, strength, and labours of the ox.

* Called Beth-shemesh, and also On, in the Old Testament.

In great cities and centres of commerce the spirit of integrity is often endangered. It is so difficult to be morally whole that some part of our nature becomes unreal or untrue. If we do not adopt false weights, we are in danger often of using false advertisements; and if we escape the temptation to adulterate our goods, we may fall into the snare of unrighteously puffing them. Multitudes fall victims to the influence of association; they lose the sense of their individuality in a large company or a select directorate, and thus the balance of their judgment inclines to what the majority deem expedient and wise. The particular conscience is silenced in the general opinion, and thus very often vicious proceedings take place which never would have occurred had each man been left to the convictions of his own mind, and the light of his own judgment. Integrity is not so easy a virtue to preserve as it may seem to be; it consists greatly in the balance of moral power. The amiable man may forfeit integrity if he neglects to be angry with wrong and violence; the generous man may forfeit integrity if, whilst free and easy with all around him, he yet leaves his children uncared for, and his family overborne with anxieties and difficulties: the kind man may be other than upright, if he props up laziness, and makes the gift of his charity a premium upon indolence and vice.

Integrity requires thought and wisdom; only superficial people think of virtues as spontaneously springing up in the heart, and then taking care of themselves. Those who dislike trouble are seldom people of integrity; they are indifferent to claims which harass and fatigue them, and are flattered sometimes as good easy souls, when, in fact, they are most cruel to those who have righteous claims upon their energy and endea

vours.

Integrity, if it be thus difficult to cultivate, yet more than compensates its possessor by the creation of a high moral tone; the desire to be whole, or entire, keeps the mind from laxity, and acts like a tonic upon all the other powers. In time such a man's word becomes regarded as his bond, and his opinions are received with the deference which belongs to those whose characters are untainted with the suspicion of being fickle, timeserving, or false.

It is recognised integrity which makes the family solicitor trusted and respected from generation to generation-which makes the trustworthy clerk find a profitable sphere of duty in some foreign city, where he remains connected with the same commercial house at a vastly augmented salary-it is integrity which makes the merchant able to command a credit without which some of his largest enterprises would be impos

EXERCISE 11.

4. a2 — b3.

5. +1.

7. a -26.

8. a3-a". 9. a + b.

Integrity has been honoured in all ages-the word itself has synonyms in all languages. Doubtless, too, it has its root in that old Latin tongue which embodies the best epoch of the Roman people, when their matrons were renowned as most virtuous, and their stern adherence to rigid morals saved them from the dangers which had imperilled other nations. Integrity has its root, however, deeper still in the old Hebrew

תם וישר יצרוני

ESSAYS ON LIFE AND DUTY.-XVI.

INTEGRITY.

INTEGRITY comes from the Latin word integer-meaning the whole of anything, and has the two senses of uninjured and complete. Wholeness, when applied to character, is manifestly connected with the idea of wholesomeness. A life of integrity is a wholesome life, and that which distinguishes integrity from its cognate words is the idea of general completeness. There are certain pet virtues which gain prominence sometimes in human character, and their possessors are greatly lauded for beneficence, or temperance, amiability or charity; but it sometimes happens that these special virtues so overtop others that they almost wither and dry up under the shadow of these largely developed or exaggerated virtues. Who has not known very just people who have been sour and snappish? and very generous people who have been idle and slovenly? Integrity, then, is moral completeness-the manifestation of a thoroughness of character which finds a place for all the excellences.

"T

"me-preserve-shall uprightness-and-Integrity."

That is, indeed, the motto which, so far as it has been embodied in the histories of peoples, has made them honoured, and tended to the perpetuation of their power and influence. Nations, like men, perish from those permitted weaknesses which undermine the foundations of integrity and truth.

Troubles and difficulties are incidental to all lives; but the sustaining power of conscious integrity is so great that it cannot be measured. Even in the hour of mercantile failure, or even of imputed dishonour, the consciousness of rectitude takes the barb from the arrow directed at us, and we stand not only unharmed by the attack, but peaceful and hopeful amid the worst trials. It is complicity with evil and wrong that blanches the countenance, palsies the arm of energy, and undermines the arches of human endurance. Every nation has its heroes, and these are to be found amid warriors, statesmen, philanthropists, and discoverers; but let integrity be wanting, and the blot soon comes out on the escutcheon, and not all the false paint of flattery can hide the delinquency. Brilliant feats of arms, splendid oratorical efforts-these, indeed, remain the same, as monuments of genius; but the characters lose their lustre if

says

"Their height is but the gibbet of their name." Integrity, of course, applies to motives as well as to actions, or it would not be wholeness; it implies that mankind are governed by principles of righteousness, quite as much as that their conduct is outwardly honourable; it thus happens that the man of integrity is sometimes obliged to offend against the popular sentiment for the time being. He cannot, it may be, fall in with some course of procedure, which, whilst it seems to be harmless and to promise well, is not yet based upon sound principles; and just as he knows that some tiny flaw in the foundation of a building will afterwards make itself felt and seen in disjointed walls and crumbling ceilings, so the man of integrity knows that a false principle, however seemingly expedient, will in the after time manifest itself in most ungainly ways. Thus it is that the upright inherit the future; they are not eager to catch at every straw of popularity, but their lives develop in the long run, and the pedestal on which they stand is based on to sandy foundation of popular sentiment, but on the firm rock of righteousness. It will be seen in the study of history that many of the noblest men were at certain epochs of their lives at variance with their age; but on these very occasions their character shines the most brightly, as we see their motives to be true, and their actions to be right. To be whole in all the virtues is difficult indeed; but it is an effort worth the making, and nothing less than aspiration after this entireness meets the meaning of the old and expressive word, "Integrity."

15. O ja, er schmeckt mir sehr gut.

21. Ja,

16. Schmeckt Ihnen das Effen? 17. Nein, Herr Docter; es schmeckt mir Alles bitter. 18. Ich bin es, der dies spricht und gesprochen hat. 19. Er ist es, der diese Worte zu sprechen wagte. 20. Nicht wahr, Sie sind es, der gesagt hat, man möge die Gefangenen losgeben? und Sie sind es, der mir widersprochen hat. 22. Diese Worte haben unsern jungen Freund tief gekränkt. 23. Sie scheint gekränkt worden zu sein. 24. Man darf sich nicht über jede Kleinigkeit gekränkt fühlen. 25. Man darf dem Gedanken, gekränkt worden zu sein, nicht lange in dem Herzen Raum geben. 26. Haben Sie schon dieses Obst versucht? 27. Ja, ich habe es socben versucht. EXERCISE 167.

1. When did your friend meet with the accident? 2. It happened yesterday; he knows not how to get over it. 3. We will try everything to better his situation. 4. If the circumstances of those people were to be changed, everything would go well with them. 5. It has often been the case that his goodness has been abused. 6. The punishment which those idle boys received was right. 7. Happen what will, I shall trust in God. 8. What is done cannot be undone, and what has been said cannot be unsaid. 9. Do you relish your food? 10. No, doctor, I relish nothing; everything tastes bitter. 11. It was my friend who spoke these words; they might assist these poor emigrants. 12. What did your new carriage cost (you)? 13. It cost (me) fifty guineas. 14. Have you already tasted this cake? 15. Yes, I have, but I do not like it; have you any other?

66

LESSONS IN GERMAN.-XLII. SECTION LXXXVI.-IDIOMS OF VERBS. Arten, when used transitively, signifies "to test, or try by tasting;" as :-Er kostet den Wein, he tastes the wine. Bersuchen has sometimes the same signification; as :-Er facht ten Wein, he tries the wine (that is, by tasting).

1. Schmecken, to relish, denotes properly the impression made by tasting; as:-Der Wein schmedt gut, the wine tastes good. Es schmeckt miz nicht (it does not relish to me), I do not relish it. Die Ercise schmeckt nach Rauch, the food tastes of smoke (is smoky).

2. Wann ist

Er weiß nicht, wie er zu diesem Re'. genschirm gekom'men ist.

Er geht beinahe alle Tage auf's Land, und erfrischt' sich an Milch und Obst.

Das Verbrech'en dieses Mannes ist an den Tag gekom'men. Er ist lange nicht bei uns gewesen.

The father goes this afternoon

over the country.

He does not know how he came by this umbrella. He goes nearly every day into the country, and refreshes himself with milk and fruit. The crime of this man has come to light.

He has not for a long time been at our house.

Er ist nicht lange bei uns gewe’sen.

He has not been long at our house.

EXERCISE 168.