says, "The north-west part was called Cal-dun, signifying hills of hazel, with which it was covered, from which the Romans, forming an easy and pleasant sound from what was harsh to their classical ear, gave it the name of Caledonia." In the peat bogs, which are so prevalent throughout the Highlands, many hazel twigs and nuts have been found; the wood was much decayed, but the nuts, although their outer coats must have been literally tanned by the peat earth in which they had probably lain for several centuries, were in good preservation, and some of them have even vegetated.

The Corylus avellana is a native of the temperate regions of Europe and Asia. It thrives best on a calcareous, loamy soil, or on the debris of rocks, though it requires moisture. Evelyn says that it affects cold, barren, dry, sandy grounds; mountainous and even rocky soils produce these trees; they prosper where quarries of freestone lie underneath, as at Hazelbury, in Wiltshire, Hazelingfield, in Cambridgeshire, Hazelmere, in Surrey, and other places: but more plentifully if the ground be somewhat moist, dankish, and mossy, as in the fresher bottoms and sides of hills, notes and hedgerows." This tree will grow at a very considerable elevation above the sea; on the Alps, the hazel line is said to rise to three thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight feet; and in the mountainous districts in the north of England and Scotland it is found at the height of sixteen hundred feet. It rather presents the appearance of a large, bushy shrub than a tree, from the number of suckers thrown up by the root; but it has been known to grow to the height of thirty feet. Many varieties have been produced from it by cultivation; one of these, the frizzled nut, is so called from its singularly jagged and lancinated calyx. The varieties most esteemed are the cob and cluster nuts, and the red and white filberts; these last are distinguished from the former by the greater length of their calyxes. Some have thought the name filbert, or as it was formerly written, philberd, was a corruption of full beard, in allusion to the husk: but Gower has assigned a more poctical derivation.

Phillis

Was shape into a nutte tree, That all men it might see: And after Phillis, philberd The tree was ycleped."

With the troubadours, no less than with our own poets of the middle ages, this tree was a favourite subject, and furnished them with many elegant comparisons. Shakspeare thus describes one of his heroines:-"Kate, like the hazel tree, is straight and slender, brown in hue as hazel nuts, and sweeter than the kernels."

The bark of the hazel is rough and of a light colour; but on the young branches and suckers it assumes a bright russet tinge spotted with white, and is sometimes covered with hairs. The wood is tender and pliant, and of a close and even grain; but can only be used for small articles, as the tree does not afford a sufficient supply for any other purposes. The roots are sometimes beautifully veined, and are employed in veneering and inlaying. The chips purify wine, or with the twigs are bound into fagots, and much used for heating ovens. In some parts of the country, these twigs, after being steeped in ale during its fermentation, and then hung up to dry, are used as a substitute when yeast is scarce. The hazel stoles well, (that is, shoots freely after the trunk is cut down,) and these, with its suckers, being strong and straight, flexible, and often many feet in length, are used as handles for fishing rods, walking sticks, withs for fastening thatch, hoops, and many other purposes. are twisted for hurdles, wattles, crates, and fences; and sometimes, when covered with mud or plaster, form walls of outhouses and cottages. They also furnish materials for rustic seats, and fancy baskets, to be filled with flower pots, and placed on lawns. A pleasing variety in these articles is produced by using some of the rods, unpeeled, stained with logwood, intermingled with those of other trees. Some ingenious devices have been formed by arranging them in various fancy patterns. In the colliery districts, hazel coppices are extensive and valuable; the long shoots are known by the names of corves or corf rods, and manufactured into the large panniers, or baskets, in which the coal is conveyed along the mine and drawn up the shaft. The charcoal afforded by this tree is very light, and used in the manufacture of gunpowder; and the wood, when charred in iron tubes, supplies crayons for the artist.

They

It is, however, principally for the nuts that the hazel tree is cultivated. So great

is the demand for this favourite fruit, that notwithstanding the quantities afforded by our own woods and coppices, and the great extent to which the tree is cultivated for the market, (especially in Kent,) a large supply is procured from the continent. "The kernels have a mild, farinaceous, oily taste, agreeable to most palates: a kind of chocolate has been prepared from them, and they have been made into bread." "that the hazel nuts, Evelyn tells us, but the filbert especially, being full ripe and peeled in water, as they blanch almonds, make a pudding, very little, if at all inferior to that which our ladies make of almonds." Oil is sometimes extracted from them. The husks are hard and astringent; and it has been surmised, whether they might not be used in dying as substitutes for galls.

Many insects and caterpillars, besides squirrels, feed upon its nuts. Among others is the curculio nucum, which is the white, fleshy maggot, so frequently found within the kernel. The female deposits a single egg within each nut, before the shell has hardened, and thus the hole she has drilled is concealed. The larvæ is hatched in about a fortnight, it preys first upon the interior of the shell. By the time the kernel is devoured, the insect has attained its full size. The nut falls to the ground, the grub has accomplished its destiny, its allotted food is exhausted; and with its strong jaws it forces a way through the husk, and buries itself in the ground, thence to emerge a perfect beetle. Several fungi are found upon the hazel; one of which, the thlephora rugosa, is extremely minute, but when rubbed or scratched assumes a blood-red hue.

Besides making up a prominent part of many a grove in the happiest manner, and tufting and fringing the sides of many a ravine, the hazel often presents us with very picturesque stems and ramifications. As an ornamental shrub it deserves a place in every plantation. The fall of its gilded leaves but reveals the treasures in store for another year. Like the snowdrop among flowers, is the hazel among our trees, the harbinger of spring, the voice of promise, and the herald of hope. While all around is drear and desolate, its pendant tassels of "downy powdered flowers" and crimson tipped buds adorn their leafless boughs. Late in the autumn, the catkins of the following spring

appear, though it is not till the following January or February that they expand their imbricated scales, beneath which, closely folded, the fertilizing anthers have concealed their golden tufts. The embryo clusters of "twin nuts," so minute as to be invisible to the naked eye, are enfolded snugly within many a sheltering scale, impenetrable even to the driving rain or wintry blast. Herein we trace the workings of a power Divine, the God of nature, who 66 never slumbereth nor sleepeth." By means of these simple blossoms, unthought of, save in winter's gloomy hours, He cheers our hearts, and imparts instruction. What season of mental depression is too dark, what day of affliction too dreary, for Him to enliven with buds of heavenly hope, or blooms of Divine consolation? Uncongenial though the clime of earth may be to them, and sterile as is the soil of the human heart, He who is their author, will perfect the work of his own hands; and He who puts into the mind good desires, will bring the same to good effect. He giveth glory where he has implanted grace.

These observations on the hazel would be incomplete, were we to omit to notice the various superstitious notions of which it is the subject, and the supernatural virtues attributed to it. Pliny mentions that torches, made of the branches, were lighted as a part of the marriage ceremony, among the ancients, and that their burning was considered to betoken luck to the young couple.

Burns describes a somewhat similar custom as practised in Scotland; nor is it uncommon in England and Ireland, on Allhallows eve, or the 31st of October, which, in some parts of the country, is vulgarly called nut-crack night. "They name a lad or a lass to each particular pair of nuts as they lay them in the fire, or on the hob, and if they crack or start, the issue of the courtship is regarded as unfortunate; and the reverse if they burn quietly side by side." Hence originated the following simple lines :—

"These glowing nuts are emblems true,
Of what in human life we view ;
The ill-matched couple fret and fume,
And thus in strife themselves consume;
Or from each other wildly start,

And with a noise for ever part.

But see the happy, happy pair,

Of genuine love and truth sincere ;

With mutual fondness while they burn,
Still to each other kindly turn:
And as the vital sparks decay,
Together gently sink away;
Till life's ordeal being past,
Their mingled ashes rest at last."

are

quieted by nameless fears, who know the thoughts of God toward them thoughts of peace, and not of evil? Or why should they seek to know, and fancy they can thus ward off future woe, to whom the promise appertains, "As thy days, so shall thy strength be?" Deut. xxxiii. 25. "Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God," Isa. 1. 10; for "He hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee," Heb. xiii. 5.

"Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence,

He hides a smiling face."

ANECDOTE OF THE REV. JOHN RYLAND. THE REV. John Ryland, of Northampton, (father of the late Dr. Ryland, of Bristol,) a man who was in advance of the age in which he lived, was accustomed to print and circulate tracts long previously to the existence of the Religious Tract Society. To help in defraying the expense of this work, he would sometimes appeal to the liberality of others. On one occasion, he called on his friend, Mr. Dupont, at the Castle and Falcon, London, and finding that a clergyman of respectability was there, asked to be introduced to him.

"Sir," said Mr. R., "I print and distribute tracts on religious subjects, at an expense above my own means, and understanding you are a clergyman, and of course that you take an interest in the improvement of the ignorant and poor, I have waited upon you to solicit a contribution."

"I know," replied the clergyman, "nothing about tracts; I take no interest in such improvements."

"Pray, sir, have you a parish ?" "To be sure I have. I am rector of a parish containing two thousand souls." Mr. R., with great promptness and devoutness, fell on his knees, in the presence of the clergyman, and poured forth a fervent prayer, that God would have mercy on the two thousand souls, whose shepherd declared he cared not for their improvement and salvation; and especially, that he would open the eyes of their shepherd. Rising, he left the room-the clergyman standing in utter

when a little recovered, "what madman was that you sent up to my room ?"

"Sir," was Mr. D.'s answer, "he is no madman; but one of the most respectable ministers of Christ in the kingdom; and if you will but go to Jewinstreet chapel this evening, and hear him preach, take my word, you will no more think him insane."

66

'Well," said the clergyman, "I will go; for I never saw or heard any thing like his conversation and prayer in my life; but I am sure he is mad!"

He went to chapel, and was much struck with Mr. R.'s preaching; and on the following sabbath heard hm again at Spa Fields. God blessed the word; the clergyman wept like a child, conversed with Mr. Dupont, heard Mr. R. as often as he could, and left a sum of money for tracts; returned to his parish a different man, and became extremely useful to many of the two thousand souls for whom before he had cherished no con

cern.

This anecdote was narrated by Mr. Bound, of Cheshunt, who knew and loved both Mr. Ryland and Mr. Dupont, to a friend by whom it was lately told to a grandson of Mr. Ryland.

Another grandson, with sentiments of deep and affectionate veneration for his ancestor, communicates this anecdote to the Visitor, in the hope, that such an example of Christian fidelity and zeal may "provoke to emulation" many others, and thus produce fresh illustrations of the saying of the sacred volume, "A word spoken in due season, how good is it !" Prov. xv. 23.

J. E. R.

THE HOPE OF THE GOSPEL.

It is a fact not less extraordinary, and not less pregnant with evidence of the Divine origin of the gospel, that it never yet has had a dying penitent, I mean, any one, in the hour of dissolution, repenting of having trusted to it. I call attention to the fact. The gospel is the only system of which this can be affirmed; and the fact is without exception. I am in full recollection, when I say so, of the many believers who have passed through the valley of the shadow of death, in mental depression and gloom, and whose fears have encompassed them, even to the last. But these are not exceptions to the fact; they are confirmations of it. For whence has the gloom of these

believers arisen? What has drawn the cloud over their souls? What has engendered their fears? Has it been any apprehension, standing up within them, of the solidity of the gospel foundation of hope? any doubt of its being trustworthy? any conviction, or even any suspicion, forced upon them, in this testing time of human confidence, of its being, after all, not rock, as they had fancied, but sand-a delusion-a " refuge of lies ?" The very reverse. Their doubts have not been about it, but about themselves! The question has not been about the security of the foundation, but about the fact of their having built upon it: not about the sufficiency of Christ, but about the reality of their interest in him: not about the soundness of the hope, but about the scriptural warrant to entertain it. That is a very different matter. So far from repenting, in the end, their having trusted to the gospel, their bitter regrets, and their heart-sinking fears, are all about the reality of their trust. Their hearts misgive them,-whether under the morbid operation of physical causes, or of mystical obscurity in their views of truth,-when_they think of their past profession. They fear-they fear-that they may have been self-deceived; fancying themselves Christ's, when they were "none of his." But regrets, lamentings, anxieties, and fears springing from such sources, bear testimony, not against the gospel truth, but for it. I ask for an instance of any individual, in perfect possession of his mental powers, unaffected by any morbid hallucinations, and in the full prospect of death, expressing regret for the folly, or repentance for the sin of having believed and followed Christ; disowning the foundation on which he has rested through life, as now seen through the searching light of its closing hour, to be false and unstable. Infidelity, and every system of human framing have had their dying penitents by thousands. How comes it that the gospel has had none? If it were itself human, how should it have that extraordinary distinction from all else that is human? Many are the schemes with which men have made shift to live, but which have misgiven them when they have come to die. The last enemy is a ruthless inquisitor. Many a time has he shown what a power he possesses of detecting to the mind the sophistries by which it had flattered itself in error, and of ex

posing to the conscience the flimsiness of its favourite refuges. Even in the valley of the shadow of death, there is often a revealing light, which compels the sinner to see what he had been shutting his eyes against before, and awakens him to a late and appalling sense of his infatuation. How comes it, then, that to no one mind has death, in the hour of its dread inquisition, ever made the discovery of the insufficiency and delusiveness of the gospel? How comes it that of this foundation the hollowness, the unsoundness, the sandy instability, has never been exposed, and the fool, who has trusted to it, convinced too late of his folly? Is there not something extraordinary in this,—that of all systems this should be the only one that has stood the scrutiny of death, and the test of anticipated judgment? Let the infidel account for it. To me it appears as the seal of the God of heaven to his own truth; evincing its Divine adaptation to all our nature's consciousnesses, and to all our nature's exigencies, and peculiarly in the hour of that nature's extremity. It proves itself, in this unvarying experience, to have proceeded from Him who "knoweth what is in man."-Wardlaw.

GRACE.

GRACE is spoken of in Scripture in three points of view: either as the unmerited favour of God towards men, as it exists in himself, or as manifested in the gospel, which is called the gospel of the grace of God; or with regard to its effects, that is, in its operation in men. Every part of redemption proceeds on the footing of grace. It originates in the grace, or unmerited favour of God, and flows in its first manifestations, and in all its subsequent acts, from the same unceasing fountain, in calling, regenerating, justifying, adopting, sanctifying, strengthening, confirming grace-in one word, it is all of grace. On this account, Peter calls God," the God of all grace," which teaches that God is in himself towards his people grace; grace in his very nature; that he knows what each of them needs, and lays it up for them, and communicates it to them. The whole of the salvation of man, from the counsels of God, from eternity is planned and executed to the praise of the glory of his grace, Eph. i. 6.-R. Haldane.