THE EAR. cord, and communicate through it with the brain. If you were to cut those that relate to hearing, deafness must ensue, though the ear remained perfect.' 'If sound is only a movement of the air, what makes the difference betwixt a loud sound and a soft one, papa ?' asked Charlie. 'The force with which the air is disturbed. You would know that the difference betwixt a playful box on the ear and a violent one, came from the force with which it was given. When a bell is struck by its clapper, a violent motion is communicated to the air, and the disturbed particles beat with corresponding force against the drum of the ear.' ' And what is the drum of the ear like?' enquired Ethel, and she looked down her brother's ear as if she expected to see it. The drum or tympanic membrane is a thin substance which stretches across the narrow passage in the cavity of the ear leading to the brain. The outer part of the ear is not ornamental only, it is a sound-conductor. You know that a person hard of hearing will, when listening, put up the hand ro as to make an extension of the ear. Sound comes to us in very much the same way as the light. First we have a sounding body, then the air it acts upon, then the nerve which vibrates to it and tells the brain. And in light we have the luminous body, with the ether upon it, and the optic nerve, which receives what the ether brings it, and again communicates with the brain.' 'So that when a sound is made,' said Charlie, 'the air moves just as far as we hear it?' True: and it moves in waves. Think of a stone thrown into a lake and making circles to the edge. Yet the particles of ether do not change their place, they simply undulate. You see something like it in the wave-like motion of the long grass or corn when the wind is blowing over it.' 'I wonder,' said Charlie, 'that we can hear sounds as far off as we do.' 'Yes, and without needing to be in a line with the sound; but that arises from the agitation of the sound-waves all around us. If the sound moved in one direction and not in all, we should need to be in a certain position to hear it.' 47 'Is it not strange, too, papa, that except for being softer and louder, all sounds should not be pretty much alike; that we should have music, for instance?' Music is a fine adjustment of softer and louder tones, my boy, the quality of the tone being varied by that which produces it; the heavy thud of a wooden hammer differs from the ringing stroke of an iron one. If you were to sound a strong musical string in a room, it would make other strings vibrate that you had neither touched nor brought into contact with it. I must also explain that the slowness or rapidity with which the air-waves are disturbed has much to do with discordant or musical sounds in nature. You know the deep, heavy bass of the thunder or the sea. But the wings of a gnat move at the rate of fifteen thousand times a second, and produce one of the highest notes in music. There are vibrations of the atmosphere too rapid for our perception, and we cannot hear sounds above a certain pitch.' 'I wish the railway whistle was above my pitch,' said Ethel. 'Papa, why does the train sound so different when we are passing through a tunnel.' For 'Because the sound-waves do not extend far enough to carry the roar of it away. The walls confine them, and they bring it back to you, so the vibration is redoubled. that reason sound may be so loud as to be dangerous. A large organ in a small room might break the windows In a belfry there are little slits that permit the air to escape, or the ringing of the bells would disturb the stones and mortar.' 'I can't say that I understand it all,' said Charlie; but I do know a little more about sound. It is very wonderful.' 'As wonderful as beautiful,' said his father. 'I like to see you wonder and admire, my children; but my great desire is that you should reverently adore Him Who made the world and all things that are therein. "He Who planted the ear, shall He not hear?" Direct your thoughts to Him, and keep EyeGate and Ear-Gate clear of anything that would hurt the soul He cares for more than all His other works.' EASTER IN MANY LANDS. NCE more old winter has turned his back upon us, and glad young spring is giving new life to bare branch and withered bulb and hidden root. It is Nature's resurrection-time, and we cannot but rejoice with her. But not only do opening buds and springing flowers call forth our gladness by their beauty and freshness; they remind us also that one day God will give a resurrection to unfading life, to those whom He has hidden from us under the cold ground. So to all Christian nations the bright spring-time brings a double joy; and even heathen people, who have not the light of God's truth, seem to have some dim notion of the precious teaching of the springtime. More than a thousand years ago, our Saxon forefathers consecrated this season to the goddess Eastre (whose name means rising), and the early Christians took advantage of this to celebrate at this time the glorious rising of our Saviour. The old heathen word is well suited to the sacred festival which we keep with so much rejoicing. In Wales, and in some parts of England, there is a beautiful custom which perhaps you may know of. On the Sunday before Easter, which we call Palm Sunday, the inhabitants of the town or village are seen thronging to the cemetery laden with lovely spring flowers, which they arrange tastefully over the graves of their friends. "Flowering Sunday" is a high day wherever it is observed. The Germans of the Moravian Church place flowers on the graves of their dead on Easter-even; and in the gray dawn of Easter morning they repair to the churchyard, accompanied by the Pastor, who reads aloud to the assembled company the deathroll of the year. Then all eyes are turned heavenward; and when the first rosy flush which heralds the appearance of the sun is seen on the sky, a glad burst of sound issues from the trumpets held by the ministers and elders, and from mouth to mouth passes the joyous greeting, The Lord is risen!' Is it not strange that while these Christians are singing in the graveyard their Easter hymn of praise, in far-off heathen China is observed the same custom of visiting and praying among the tombs? The Chinese know nothing of the glorious promise of the resurrection of the body, yet they believe that their dead friends still live in the land of spirits. Perhaps in some vague way they gather from the sight of the Spring-time the hope that their dead, too, may one day find new life; at all events, they choose this season to pray especially for them to their gods. In all Chinese schools a three days' holiday is given, in order that the boys may celebrate the Feast of the Tombs. Each boy is required to go to the graves of his ancestors, and there burn paper which, he is told, will turn to money and clothing for their use in the dreary land of spirits. Thank God, dear children, that you are taught better things. In the Roman Catholic countries of the Continent, Easter is celebrated with great display and with foolish ceremonies. Some, however, are as harmless and pleasant as our own custom of eating hot-cross buns on Good Friday. In France, Germany, and many other countries, families are accustomed to hail the approach of Easter by sending round presents of gaily-coloured Easter eggs. No doubt the children represented in our Picture have had many consultations as to the colours of the bright gifts they are carrying from door to door. In a former Paper I have described to you the Russian ceremony of blessing the Easter cakes; perhaps you do not know that a much stranger custom prevails in that country at this spring season. Spring does not there, as here, approach gradually: Old Winter hurries away at the first sound of her light footstep, and fields, which a week or two since were withered and brown, are quickly covered with soft, green grass. Then the lean cattle, whose thin sides tell plainly the story of a hard winter, are led out to graze on the fresh herbage. But before this is permitted them, they are solemnly AFRICAN WEAVER-BIRDS. sprinkled with holy water to preserve them from harm. A strange sight must be this baptism of the cattle. But England herself has gone through ceremonies almost as curious. Do you know that the day before Good Friday is called Maundy Thursday? In olden time this day was set apart, in supposed imitation of our Saviour's washing the feet of His disciples, for the washing of beggars' feet by the rich? Many a wealthy abbot, whose work was accompanied with great display, the very basin used being sometimes of gold, forgot the spirit of our Saviour's deed of love, while careful to carry it out in the letter. The name of the day was taken from the Manday, or large flat basket, in which the benevolent supplied the poor with cakes of barley bread. Perhaps the most remarkable ceremonies of modern days are observed by a large class of people to whom Easter brings no Christian joy. You will guess that I am thinking of the Jews. Whilst we are gladly singing, 'Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us,' they are preparing to call to mind in. the Feast of the Passover the deliverance of their fathers from the Egyptian yoke. Nor do they utter one word of praise for that more glorious deliverance wrought for them and for all people by the Messiah in Whom they do not believe. The Jews, young and old, regard the Passover as the great event of the year; and for weeks before the eventful day arrives, every house is made to undergo a most careful process of cleansing. The rooms are scrubbed, painted and papered, and almost every article used in cooking is replaced by a new one. Great pains are also taken to provide a sufficient number of thin, unleavened cakes, which are pierced with many 51 holes. On the 14th of the month Nisan (answering to the middle of our April), the head of the household takes a lighted taper and peers into every nook and cranny to see that no smallest remains of leaven are to be found. the Each After service in the synagogue, family gathers round the table, covered with a spotless cloth. At the head sits the father, dressed in a long white robe, in which he will one day be buried. Before him are placed the shank-bone of a lamb, and dishes of various cakes, all unleavened. guest is also supplied with a silver wine-cup. One chair, however, stands empty, and one cup is unused. These are intended for the entertainment of the Prophet Elijah, whose appearance on this night as a herald of the Messiah, the Jews are taught to expect. The door is left ajar, and ever and again a child peers out into the darkness, looking for the venerable form of the Hebrew Seer. During the Passover meal, the children. are accustomed, in a familiar form of words, to ask their elders the meaning of these strange observances. Then the old story is again related by the father as he leans back in his comfortable chair, supplied on this night with special pillows as a contrast to the hardness of Egyptian bondage. and singing mingle with the conversation, and so the Passover evening slips away. Very early next morning before the rest of the family appear, the boys dispose of the contents of Elijah's cup, lest it should appear that provision for him is made in vain. Prayer May a nobler Guest be with you all this Eastertide a Guest for whom you cannot look in vain. Perhaps, as of old to His disciples, the Master Himself may be known to you in the breaking of bread.' AFRICAN WEAVER-BIRDS. AUNT EMILY. MOST children have seen the pretty cuplike nests our little birds make in the hedges, but I do not suppose you would ever guess that the curious things hanging to the end G. M. A. of the branch in the picture are nests also, yet such they are. They are the homes of the African weaver-bird, and are made of grass fibre. The nest is placed in the hollow at the |