Comfortless enough he must be, I dare say. What "What's the matter, Annie ?" said Jonathan, "You are welcome, my girl," said Jonathan, With great minuteness, and much excitement, poor Annie proceeded to relate what all Troy by this time knew (for there never was a town in which tidings of such a kind travelled faster)-how a neighbour had told Mrs. Mathewson that Bessy had actually gone to see old Nat; whereupon that lady remarked that Bessy was very forward to do the like, when his own superior relations were staying at home, and that their cousin wasn't the man to put such low people out of their senses with a legacy. This announcement just followed upon a series of faults found with Annie for wearing a handsome shawl which had been her dead mother's gift, and which happened to resemble Mrs. Mathewson's, for braiding her hair like Miss Louisa's, and for having such an unbecomingly smart bonnet. There is no doubt that, tinged as she was with vanity, fostered probably by a recollection of her former circumstances, the girl did assume more than her present position as a domestic servant would warrant; but when she heard her family termed low, her patience fairly broke down. Unlike her gentle sister, she possessed not "the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit," and had not learned the useful lesson that "a soft answer turneth away wrath." Accordingly, losing her self-command, she began to rebuke Miss Louisa with all the severity of a free-born American, and speedily brought down on herself the combined attack of both mother and daughter, who were known to be anything but genteel in their anger. Doctor Adolphus tried to make peace. Annie always alleged he was the best of them; but it wouldn't do; and at length, fairly driven off the field by superior scolding, she fled for refuge to Skim-lane. Annie wound up her narrative with a declaration that she wished to remain and work with Bessy. "Who knew, after all," she said, "that they mightn't be the better for old Norton's will ?" but the words failed on Annie's lips, as now, for the first time, Bessy's cloak and bonnet caught her eyes. "Surely it is not true what they told me, Bessy? You didn't do such a thing, to injure us all!" she cried in renewed vexation. "Yes, Annie," said Bessy, "I went to see our consin. I saw them all go away yesterday and leave the old man alone with his negro servant. The whole day it was on my mind; and last night, after our family prayer was over, I thought that, since nobody else would, it was my duty to go and see what I could do for him. I told my father this morning, and he had no objections." Do you think Nat was in earnest in what he I'm sure he was. He told me the same thing to-day; but it will interfere with no one but myself," added Bessy, as her sister stared reproachfully upon her. Never mind, Annie," said Jonathan, taking his seat at the breakfast table; "Bessy is in the right, though I don't expect you to do the same. It is well we can live without either a legacy or the Mathewsons." Annie sat down to breakfast with a very dissatisfied mind. She thought Bessy was doing a most absurd thing, and wondered her father could approve of it. Her confidence in Bessy's wisdom had been always great, but now it seemed sadly misplaced. Wasn't it the old man's wish that he should be left alone? and what right had any one to oppose his wish? So reasoned all the relatives, and so reasoned Annie. There is nothing so ingenious as human selfishness in discovering justice on its own side. At all events, the younger sister was determined to take care of her particular interest in Nat's testament. With this intent she stayed safely at home while Bessy went on her mission of mercy to Norton's house. Her morning and evening visits became longer day by day, for Nat was manifestly sinking. Perhaps the inexperience in illness to which I have alluded prevented his noticing the approach of the last enemy. He still saw tenants, received rents, and made agreements concerning the repair of houses and the reclamation of land; yet there was a dull fear in his mind, and he liked to see Bessy in his room. Nat didn't say it, but the old man's eye brightened when she came, and his words were always kind in taking leave. In the meantime, Troy was kept lively by the agitations of Nat's kindred. That it was very bold in Bessy to visit their sick cousin, the latter were all agreed, except Mrs. Woodward, who, having written to her son on the subject, when he was studying hard for an examination at our New England Cambridge, was more than astonished to find that Westland highly approved of the girl's conduct. The three old ladies, therefore, remained undecided regarding her boldness; but there was enough besides to employ their minds. The war between the concerned households touching their respective shares in the approaching legacy had become almost open. Each selfish expectant said a variety of things in contempt of the other's claim, occasionally introducing matters which had little to do with the subject. In short, what the apostle terms "the unruly member and world of iniquity" was in great occupation among them, and might have kindled a fire not easy to quench, but for an unexpected settlement of the dispute. One evening, when Bessy reached old Norton's door later than usual, Cæsar admitted her with a troubled look. "Oh, Miss Betty, I'm glad you're come!" said the negro, who followed his master's example in everything; massa has been very bad. Old Hawkes has been closed up with him all day, makin' him's will or something, and he has sent a boy off for Doctor Wandsworth. Bessy knew what sending for Doctor Wandsworth meant. He was a physician of great repute and extensive practice, whose residence was some ten miles off, and being our highest medical authority, was generally called in when other doctors failed. She hastened to Nat's room, and found that a great change for the worse had passed over him. His breathing was hard, and his face blue and pallid. "You're late to-day, child, and I'm worn out with making my will. It's there in the desk: but they may have to wait a while for their legacies yet;' and Norton's eye rested with a keen, searching glance on Bessy. Often had she tried to direct his attention from the money and lands he must leave so soon, to his soul's interest in the eternal heritage; but Nat had hitherto heard every reference to that subject with the apathy of seventy years' hardening. He had served and loved the world so long, had become so expert in its traffic, and so wealthy with its gains, that there seemed no room in his mind for spiritual impressions; and the prospect of death only made him anxious to settle his affairs as he would a bargain, to his own liking. A heavy sense of that fact fell on Bessy with his look, and she said in reply, while adjusting his pillow: "I hope they don't think so much of money. It cannot buy everything in this life, and has no power in the life to come." "No, girl, it can't buy everything," said Nat, as if struck by the new idea; "it can't make one young, or well again; but it can bring doctors, and lawyers, and clergy, for that matter"Here Cæsar entered, with the intelligence that his messenger had returned, but Doctor Wandsworth was gone on a distant call, and couldn't come sooner than by noon next day. 66 Money cannot always bring doctors either; but it is useful, and my friends know it. How busy they would have been about me by this time; but I took care of that!" said Norton, in a tone of self-gratulation, as his eyes closed and he dropped into a sort of doze. Bessy moved quietly about the room, put things in their places, prepared his supper, poured out his medicine, and then, kneeling down in a corner out of sight, she prayed for conviction and light to that darkened soul. Still Nat slept, but his face had the same ghastly look. Bessy felt she should not leave him, and stealing out, the considerate girl gave widow Gray's little boy three cents to run and tell Annie that old Norton was worse, and she would sit up with him all night. Then Bessy returned to her place beside the lamp, and, taking out the pocket bible she always brought with her, tried to read, but her thoughts were sadly troubled. She had seen sickness and death before, and with far deeper sorrow, -for no one could be said to lament Nat Norton; but her mother's departure was not like this. Bessy knew not what to do; yet, as she read the sayings of Him who "spake as never man spake," peace came down upon her thoughts. The old man's sleep seemed to grow more composed. She heard the little town gradually becoming still as the night wore on. Cæsar had gone to rest by her desire, for he had little the previous night, and she was silently reading the parable of the Sower, when Nat looked up as hard and keen as ever, exclaiming, "Oh, my good girl, how you are losing your time here!" 66 My time is not lost, cousin," said Bessy; "I am reading the bible. Shall I read to you?" and, The cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches," repeated Nat, as she paused. "There was an earnest preacher whom I heard discourse on that text long ago. Bessy, I wish I had read the bible and minded religion when I was young, like you." 66 "It is not too late, cousin," said Bessy; "you know Him who is able to save to the uttermost, the Lord our righteousness." "Lord, have mercy on me!-what is this?" cried Norton. There were other words, lost in a hoarse, gurgling sound, for a great internal vessel had given way, and the dark blood was staining coverlet and pillow. Cæsar, who had spread his mattress in the other room, rushed in at Bessy's call. They tried to raise the old man, but a spasm of suffocation convulsed his features. There was a quivering of the still strong frame, a long gasp or two, and Nat Norton was gone from his riches and his relations. With great awe upon her spirit, Bessy closed his eyes, while Cæsar, scarce knowing what he did, ran for the doctor. By the time that gentleman was woke up, half our town was made aware of the event, and while Bessy knelt at the bedside, praying, "Lord, shew me the end and measure of my days," the Mathewsons broke in with garments hastily assumed, and loud lamentations for their dear cousin. They were followed by the Weatheralls in still more demonstrative grief; in the midst of which, old Hawkes the lawyer walked quietly in, and put his seal on the deceased's desk and papers. Bessy felt that her duty was done; and after relating the particulars of the old man's departure with as much calmness as her audience would permit, she took her cloak, bonnet, and bible, and proceeded homeward through the quiet streets, followed by Cæsar as a voluntary escort. He had made no lamentation, said nothing, even when the doctor pronounced Norton quite dead; but when Bessy looked behind, she perceived the negro's tears were falling fast. "It's not for the place or the wages, Miss," said Cæsar; "but he was a good master to me, and we kept house so well together; I'll never see his like." Bessy tried to comfort the poor fellow, and spoke to him also of the shortness of life, and the necessity of preparation for that long journey which all must take; but when she reached her father's door, the girl felt thankful that there was at least one who unfeignedly regretted poor Norton. It was generally admitted in Troy, that Nat's relatives behaved with great decorum on the occasion, though some individual anxiety regarding the will oozed out at times. Nothing could be gathered from old Hawkes, who, with an immoveable countenance, assured everybody that they would see how their interests had been cared for at the proper time. The house in Homer-street could not be called one of mourning; but there was no want of black serge and crape, darkened windows, and demure looks. The funeral board-I had almost said feast -was spread, and a stone-cutter received orders to commemorate Nat's many virtues and the sorrow of survivors. The plumed hearse, fol lowed by half our district, bore its burden to the cemetery beside the Skim; ashes were given to ashes, and dust to dust; Nat Norton slept beside his father, and the most substantial of the attendant mourners, with the Mathewsons, Westlands, and Weatheralls, assembled in his front parlour to hear his will. maladies of his patients by his professional skill, a liberal portion of the wife's inheritance was benevolently employed in ameliorating the wants and woes of the distressed around her. Thus usefully living and labouring in the cause of humanity were they when I left them; and since that time, often have I thought how much was effected by the good work of one who preferred duty to gain, and expected nothing from Nat Norton's will. PILLAR. Old Hawkes did take an amazing time to open the desk and adjust his spectacles; at length these arrangements were completed, and the will was in his hand. A brief document it was; and never shall I forget the line of blank faces as he read :"I do hereby give and bequeath to Bessy Bennet, A CONVERSATION UPON THE CATEReldest daughter of Jonathan Bennet, my cousin in the third degree, the whole of my estates, real and personal, for her sole use and benefit, as the only one of my relations who cared for me more than for my property, excepting an annuity of six hundred dollars, to be paid to my faithful servant Cæsar during his life." There was a general rustle, as if all hairs in the room were rising; for some minutes nobody believed their ears, and seemed waiting for some contradiction; at length Mrs. Mathewson found breath to say, "Did ever"-and then the storm burst forth. Its equal had not been heard in Troy for many a year. The Mathewsons fell on Bessy Bennet for a designing creature. The Misses Westland gave utterance to repeated bursts of astonishment; and every Weatherall threatened to raise a separate action against the will. "Where is the heiress ?" inquired old Hawkes; but none of the Bennets were present. They had seen the turf laid over Nat, and then gone home, convinced that they had no interest in his testa ment. When the lawyer found his way to their cottage, with a volunteer train of the younger citizens and myself among them, Bessy was sewing beside her sister in one corner of the room, and Jonathan was making a tea-box in the other. Old Hawkes bid them all good morning, walked straight up to Bessy, read her the will as slowly and distinctly as he had read it in the parlour, and advised her to administer immediately.* The Bennets looked at one another in silent amazement. But Bessy first recovered her composure. She thanked the lawyer for the trouble he had taken, promised to be guided by his advice, and said that though she had never hoped for such a legacy, yet she thankfully accepted it as the gift of Providence; but still, as the fortune thus singularly acquired would more than suffice to provide for herself, her father, and her sister, she felt quite willing to divide a portion of it among the old man's relations. It is needless to say that this arrangement was accepted, after all Troy advised them not to go to law; and I believe that the disinterestedness of Bessy served old Hawkes for a subject of wonder during the rest of his life. No long period elapsed after this event before our amiable heroine had become the happy wife of Dr. Woodward, and dwelt in a handsome house hard by the Misses Westland. And while the time of the husband was spent in attempting to heal or mitigate the FOR YOUNG READERS. "PAPA! papa! see what a very curious insect I have found here in the wall of our summer-house," said little Cassie to her father, as she and her younger sister and brothers were busily employed in dressing their little gardens, and training a honeysuckle, with its sweet-smelling bells and bright scarlet berries, through the branches of the golden creeper which formed the roof of their pretty bower. "Oh! let me see it," said Nannie, running up to her sister, who had hastened to her papa, who was seated upon a rustic chair just opposite to where his children were thus employed, with a book in his hand. "Why, that is a caterpillar, Cassie, which you know mamma told us will in course of time turn into one of those beautiful butterflies that flutter from flower to flower." Yes, Nannie; but this is covered with pretty little yellow balls, which are quite bright and silky; and see! it is not nearly so large or so round as the caterpillar mamma showed us, and it had none of those little yellow balls." "Oh, papa, what kind of butterfly will it produce ?' 66 My dear children," said their papa, “that unfortunate insect is destined never to become a butterfly of any kind. It has met with enemies that have destroyed its vitality; that is, its power of living longer in any state, and left it nothing but an empty skin. I shall presently endeavour to explain to you how this has been effected; but, first, let me hear whether Harry can tell me what the caterpillar comes from." "Yes, papa," said the youngest child-a little boy about eight years of age, who, from his love of asking questions, and his desire of gaining information on everything that he could at all understand, was called THE DOCTOR-" mamma told us that the butterfly lays a number of little eggs, which are hatched into little caterpillars, that are at first very small, but very soon grow as large as those caterpillars which we saw on the cabbage leaf." Papa. Quite right; these eggs are laid in some place where, as soon as they are hatched, the little caterpillar is sure to find plenty of food suited to its nature; and this he devours so greedily, that he increases in size in a wonderful manner, until the time arrives that he is about to undergo a second change; and as he was a motionless egg before he became a caterpillar, so now he again becomes almost motionless, and changes into another kind of egg, as it were, from which the future butterfly is to issue. Can any of you tell me the name by which naturalists call the caterpillar ? "Yes, papa," said James, the eldest boy, who had listened with great attention to what had been said. Naturalists, or those persons who are skilled in natural history, call the caterpillar larva, which means a mask, that is, a disguise or covering." Papa. Right, my boy; Linnæus, the most eminent amongst naturalists, invented this name larva, because the caterpillar is a kind of outward covering or disguise of the future butterfly within. It has been ascertained by curious microscopic examination, that a distinct butterfly, only undeveloped and not full grown, is contained within the body of the caterpillar; and that this latter has its own organs of digestion and respiration, etc., suited to its larva life, quite distinct from, and independent of the future butterfly which it encloses. Harry. What do you mean, papa, by microspic, or whatever you call it ? Papa. I think Cassie will be able to explain this big word microscopic to you; as she has been very lately looking through a microscope. Cassie. Oh yes; don't you remember the last day we were at Mrs. Bagot's, that Mr. Bagot showed us a very curious instrument which had a number of glasses, through which we looked, and saw the down on the wing of a moth, and the little vessels in the rose branch which carry up the sap and nourishment to the flower? This instrument, he told us, was a microscope; and microscopic examination means, looking at the larva or caterpillar through a microscope. Papa. Yes; and this shows us the little embryo or young butterfly inside of the larva; and at the same time discovers to us the lungs and stomach of the larva, by which it breathes and feeds, quite distinct and independent of this little butterfly, as I have already told you. Nannie. But I think mamma said that the butterfly comes from a chrysalis, or cocoon of silk, which the caterpillar spins before it changes into the butterfly. Papa. So it does, Nannie. The full-grown butterfly lays the egg; the egg produces the larva, or caterpillar, which, as we have seen, contains the future butterfly; and when the proper period arrives, and the life of the insect in this its first stage is to close, the caterpillar becomes what is called a pupa, inclosed in a chrysalis or cocoon (often composed of silk, as in that of the silkworm, which supplies us with that important article), and lies torpid for a time within this natural coffin, from which it breaks forth at the proper period as a perfect butterfly. Harry. Will you tell me, papa, what you mean by a cocoon? and what produces it? Papa. The larva or caterpillar, when about to end its larva life, appears to be conscious of this approaching state some time previously; and ac⚫cordingly we find the different kinds of caterpillars making different arrangements for their security and repose whilst in that state. Some, like that which Cassie found, retreat to a retired and secure situation, such, for instance, as the summer-house where it was discovered; others make their way underground, and there remain buried till they rise under a new form; whilst others, again, spin themselves a hiding-place of silk, which is called a cocoon, and inclosed in it, as in a natural coffin, pass this period of their existence in a state of torpidity and death-like inactivity, during which they are called pupa, till at length, if they escape the dangers to which they are liable, they emerge into renewed life, no longer to grovel on the earth, but, as beautiful winged creatures, to soar high above it, and join their companions in the air : "Where he arriving, round about doth fly From bed to bed, from one to other border, Yet none of them he rudely doth disorder, Cassie. Oh! how very wonderful. Who would suppose that an ugly creeping insect like a caterpillar could be transformed into such a beautiful creature as a butterfly? But, papa, I do not yet perfectly understand what you mean by a pupa. Papa. When the caterpillar has arrived at the close of its life as a caterpillar, it becomes, as I have just told you, motionless or torpid, that is, inactive or apparently dead. It remains for some time in this state, having previously cast off its caterpillar's skin; and the insect is then called a pupa, which is a soft, jelly-like mass, liable to be injured or completely destroyed by any violence it may meet with. But in order to protect it from everything of this kind, that great and good Being who is the Author of all life impels it to provide itself with a means of security. În some cases this is effected by a cocoon of silk, or some other material, which the insect is led to construct for its future abode; in others, its soft skin being moistened with a gummy liquid which it emits, it be comes hard and of a shell-like appearance, and thus it remains till it issues forth in its perfect state. James. But what were the enemies that you said had destroyed the caterpillar that Cassie has found in the summer-house, and will prevent it from becoming a butterfly? Papa. I was about to mention them to you, my boy, as they are associated with one of the most extraordinary circumstances, or phenomena as they are called, connected with insect life. Do you see these little silken balls, so bright and yellow, which are on this caterpillar ? James. Yes, papa; they are about the size of little grains of wheat, and something that shape. Nannie. If they were not on the caterpillar, and fastened to it, so as to appear a part of itself, from what you have told us I should have thought them little cocoons. Papa. And so they are, Nannie. But in order that you may understand how they came there, I must mention to you that there are certain wicked little flies, called ichneumon flies, which, in their caterpillar or larva state, inhabit and feed on other caterpillars; and from this circumstance are called parasitical, which means living upon others. Harry. Oh! how very strange. But, papa, how can they get into the caterpillar, so as to live there? Papa. The ichneumon fly is furnished with a long sharp sting, called an ovipositor, which means an egg-placer. Can you tell your sisters, James, what that word ovipositor is derived from? James. Yes, papa; from the Latin word ovum, an egg, and positum, placed. Papa. And from positum we get the English words, position, deposit, etc., etc. Now, the fly being possessed of this long sharp sting, or ovipositor, pierces with this the body of a caterpillar in several places, and deposits her eggs, which are there hatched, and feed as grubs or larvæ on the inward parts of their victim. But just at the period when the caterpillar is about retiring for the purpose of assuming the pupa state, from which it is to emerge a perfect insect, the ichneumon grubs, having by this time completely devoured the hidden butterfly, come forth from their lurking-places, and spin upon the outside of their late habitation their little silken cocoons, from which they are to issue as flies. Cassie. Oh! now I understand all about it, papa. These little yellow silken balls, on this caterpillar that I have found, are the cocoons of that horrid fly, which has been eating up the poor little butterfly that was contained inside of it. Papa. You are very nearly right, Cassie; it was not exactly the ichneumon fly that devoured the hidden butterfly; but it was the grub or larva, which was produced from the egg that the fly had deposited in the caterpillar, and which, having now completed its destructive work, issues forth and spins its little cocoons, which you see. Nannie. But, papa, does not the ichneumon fly immediately kill the caterpillar? Will not the sting, by means of which it places its eggs in the body of the caterpillar, at once cause its death; or, if it recover this injury, will not the grubs or larva of the fly devour it up? Papa. You might very naturally suppose that this should be the result; but here, my dear child, is the most wonderful circumstance in connexion with this subject. The caterpillar which has been thus attacked by the ichneumon fly goes on feeding and apparently thriving quite as well during the whole of its caterpillar life as those that have escaped. For, by a wonderful provision of instinct, the ichneumon grubs within do not injure any of the organs of the larva, but feed only on the future butterfly inclosed within it. And, consequently, it is hardly possible to distinguish a caterpillar which contains these enemies from those that are untouched. Harry. Then how are we to know the sound caterpillar from the eaten one? Papa. I have just told you that as long as it continues a caterpillar you cannot easily know the one from the other; but when the period arrives for the close of its larva life, the difference appears; then, those that have escaped their parasite enemies prepare to soar upon their beauteous wings into a new world of delights; whilst of the other unfortunate insects who have been thus attacked the skin alone remains, and even it soon melts away and entirely decays. James. Thank you, dear papa, for telling us so much about these wonderful little insects. I am sture I shall always see a caterpillar with much more interest than I have hitherto felt. Papa. I am glad to hear you say so, James. And, indeed, there is not a single object within your reach which will not afford you both delight and instruction, if you carefully examine into its nature and history. But tell me, do you remember what is the Greek word which signifies soul ?" James. I think it is psychè. Papa. Yes, James, psychè is the Greek for soul; and is it not remarkable that it is also the Greek for butterfly? Now, if you look into your Classical Dictionary under the name psychè, you will find that the butterfly was the symbol or representation of the soul; and, on that account, in old paintings, amongst the ancients, when a man had just expired, a butterfly appeared fluttering above, as if rising from the mouth of the deceased. But this subject is connected with one far more important as well as interesting to us, and which is very suitable and appropriate to what I have just been reading in the very interesting and highly instructive book that I have in my hand. Cassie. Oh! papa, what is the name of the book? Will you allow us to read it? or will you read it out to us yourself? Papa. It is a "View of the Scripture Revelations of a Future State," and gives us the information contained in the different parts of the bible relative to the occupation and state of the psychè or souls of those who, having escaped the enemies to which they were exposed on earth, are preserved and prepared for those regions of blessedness where they shall dwell for ever in the glorious bodies with which they are to be invested on arising out of the state of death, or sleep, as the scriptures call it, and which might in some sense be termed the pupa state of mankind. Now if the butterfly or psychè state be symbolical of the soul when clothed with its resurrection body, can any of you tell me to what the human body itself may be compared ? James. I think, papa, that the larva or caterpillar state very much resembles man in this life, while preparing for the great change; when, after his body has lain in the grave, just as the pupa does in the tomb of the cocoon, his soul is to mount upwards in a new body to the kingdom of heaven, Papa. Yes, my dear boy. In many parts of God's word man is called a worm; but as the worm or caterpillar changes into the butterfly, so shall those who, by the help of God's good Spirit, conquer their corrupt and carnal desires, and set their affections on things above, be changed into the likeness of the glorious body of their blessed Lord and Saviour, who has passed into the heavens before them as their forerunner. And it is not a little remarkable that the place where the Almighty is said particularly to dwell is called in scripture "his pavilion," a word taken from the Greek papilion, which also signifies a butterfly. But you must remember, my dear children, that it is in this life you are to be prepared for the enjoyment of that which is to come, in order to be capable of participating in its happiness; and it is in this life also that your soul has to contend with those secret enemies which, like the ichneumon flies, are ever seeking to destroy it. It is necessary to observe, too, that our well-being and prosperity in this life is by no means a sure proof of our being free or secure from those secret enemies. Can you tell me, Nannie, does the caterpillar which has been attacked by the ichneumon fly |